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[WP] A hyper advanced species introduces themselves as the creators of all life. They explain to the intergalactic community that they're here to undo their greatest mistake, creating humanity. The larger galaxy takes up arms in their defense | For centuries my people, like those on other planets in different galaxies have regarded the humans that live on the planet they call “Earth” with great interest. We have never met them. Never returned the messages they fired out into the universe. Never gave them any inkling to suggest we exist. Despite all of this they continue to do so. This is but one of the reasons we took up arms in their name when the Creators appeared and announced humanity’s imminent distinction.
Needless to say the inhabitants of my planet and the others in the Zalzabar galaxy took up arms without a second thought. Our neighbours in the Ghillian cluster did the same. More and more joined the cause. And before you knew it an armada of thousands stood guard in all directions approximately a light year away from the humans.
When the Creators came to erase their supposed greatest mistake they were furious due to our defiance. However this anger then morphed into confusion to see so many species that were vastly more advanced than humanity, many of us living light years away unaffected by any of their sins, standing guard over the rather meager planet of water and earth.
But there was no reason for confusion on our part. Yes we acknowledge humanity’s numerous follies and shortcomings. We acknowledge that their loss would not be a great one in the grand scheme of the ever expanding universe, if one that was even registered at all. But that is one of the primary reasons we decided to protect them with such ferocity. They have so little, are so weak and flawed, and yet in spite of that they continued to persevere. And from this perseverance has come achievements that have inspired awe in us. They are an imaginative species that for better or worse has rarely accepted the reality of their limitations for very long. They have always pushed forward in some shape or form. And that is why we protect them. Because how could one who strives to better themselves and the ones around them despite having so few tools to accomplish their goals be considered a mistake?
So we fight against our supposed creators, the false prophets that they are, far away from the Earth. Many of us will die. The humans will never know of our sacrifice. Good. Let it remain that way.
If I am one of those who dies in their name, I will die with honour. And if I survive, perhaps I will even send them a faint, jumbled message they have no hope of deciphering.
Just to see them do the seemingly impossible once more. | ‘Why do I have to talk to them?’
‘Man, someone has to! Just stall them while I figure out how to get them to leave’
I’m shoved forward from the crowd. Owing to a background as a tour guide, I’m known as-
‘A Man Who Can Work A Room, it is our pleasure to meet you!’ booms one of the great beings. The constantly emitted light makes it difficult to place which of the 10 had opened their mouths.
‘That’s me, yes. And I’m afraid I don’t know your name. Or which of you said that’
‘It was I’, answered one, levitating slightly to distinguish himself from the others. ‘My name is lost to time but I am all things mineral and organic. I created the atoms from which you are composed.’
‘I’ll call you Adam, shall I?’
It’s a risky move. I’m essentially playing a dog at a house party, causing distractions through likability.
Still they smile. I think it’s a smile. They radiate more light, put it that way.
‘Humor’, starts another, ‘one of the reasons you still exist. It seems almost a shame to destroy your species for no other a species has perfected humor quite like the human’.
They drop their heads in a moment of sadness. It’s in that moment I have an idea. It’s daring and surely has its pitfalls but I’ve to do something.
‘Chimpanzee’, I replied nonchalantly. And smile.
‘My apologies’, states the being ‘did you say ‘chimpanzee’?’
‘Yes sir. That’s us. Second most advanced simians on Earth, after those dastardly humans’.
There was a murmur from the beings as they converged together. I could hear whisperers about time, something about pants and I think tools are mentioned. I run with that.
‘Oh sure, those humans and their tools. If you go into the jungles today, I’ve heard, you can see the humans using stone tools! Stone tools! Already! I mean, we don’t have anything like that’
Sure enough, not one of us does. Imagine a millennial carrying tools around. It just doesn’t happen.
The beings are thrown. I can tell that they’re not sure. I turn back to the group of humans and wink.
‘We must go to the jungles and consult with these humans’, I think they say this collectively. ‘Our data is misinforming.’
‘It happens. Say hello to the humans for us’
‘We will’
‘Oh, and if I know those humans, they really like it if you challenge the alpha male. Hit him with a rock or something.’
They murmur an agreement and depart in a shimmer of light.
‘Ok, they’ll be back, with questions’, I whip around to everyone else ‘if this is going to work we need to start burning all of our pants’. | 2022-02-11T02:38:47 | 2022-02-11T02:19:28 | 113 | 31 |
[WP] The magical races enslaved magic-less humans centuries ago. To expand their empires, the magical races travel and conquer different dimensions. They soon stumble across and try to conquer a magic-less world full of humans. It did not go well. | What a mess. Apparently a clay golem was not the correct counter for an Abrams tank.
Toureil was not having a good day. Responsible for this expedition to conquer this backwards planet, it had turned into a bloodbath for him. Normally 10 legions could quickly take control of a new world. This particular world filled with weak humans incapable of magic was supposed to be a short affair. Toureil's people, the Gux'vican had taken over much of the known multiverse with this strategy.
Unfortunately, this backwards planet had evolved technologically due to their complete inability to use magic. Normally the Gux'vican outlaw technology beyond basics when they take over. There is little need for it given their magical power. As a result, most of what Toureil had seen on this "Earth" was inconceivable to him. Only by taking prisoners had he even learned what he was facing. Initially, the expeditionary force thought that a "glock" was some type of magic wand that caused someone's head to get a hole in it and a "tank" was a massive horned creature.
Toureil's fireball's couldn't touch a "raptor" as it rained death on his troops. A summoned dragon would normally be able to destroy a city but was easily cut in half by one of these flying "warthogs". When Toureil's mages summoned meteor storms on their opponents they were quickly hit with a barrage of explosions. One of his prisoners called it "HIMARS o'clock".
What the fuck was HIMARS o'clock? Is there a timepiece out there that is killing Toureil's legions?
Regardless, Toureil had only remnants of a few legions left. Several of his men had been captured and exposed the secrets of his world to these humans. Now they were trying to get through the gate. Apparently this "Amazon" wanted to "expand its customer base across the multiverse" and nothing the Gux'vican had could stop them.
What was that noise anyways? . . . . . . . . oh, so that's an Apache. | "***What?***"
The emperor growled at the messenger before him, eliciting a frightful wince, as he struggled to comprehend what he had been told.
"You mean to tell me... a *third* of my *entire army* is *dead*?" The emperor's tone gradually falling from hostility, to incredulity, to finally bewildering disbelief as he sank deep into his gilded throne. "...***how***?"
"W-w-w-well, m-m-m'lord, we were under the impression that, as they are magicless, they would be unprotected-"
"So our intel was wrong? These 'humans', they possess magic!?" the emperor almost shouted, all too eager for an answer. These were supposed to be primitives, not even capable of beginner level conjuration between the entirety of the species, so *how?* How in the realms did they manage to wipe out half a million of the Kalysian Empire's finest, cavalry, mages, and all?
"No, they do not, m'lord."
"Wha-, but... how... what do you-..."
For the first time in all his 785 years, 230 of those reigning as emperor, Osmilon the Brilliant had no words. No possible explanations for the information he had just received.
"Then **how!?!**" Osmilon leaped from his throne, roaring his inquiry.
The messenger shrank back for but a moment before regaining his composure. "The captured humans were entirely uncooperative, even under the threats of torture and death, but they were, however, seemingly vulnerably to psionic probing. However, even after searching their minds, we still have little understanding of their technology..."
"Well then study it! Report to the commanders that they are to fall back until we find a efficient way to counteract the-" the emperor was cut off by an imperial guard slamming past the chamber doors, panting heavily with his armour haphazardly adorning his body.
"My lord! From the eastern skies, they are coming!"
"The *skies?* You mean to tell me these creatures are capable of flight?" Osmilon looked between the guard and messenger, looking for an answer from either. They did not have the time. They heard the roaring of engines, looking skyward to the glass ceiling of the imperial throne room to see several black ships drop tiny black dots, like seeds from the giving hand of an elder. Osmilon the Brilliant knew not what these machines were, nor what they had dropped, yet he knew, deep in his ancient heart, what would be.
"Ah, I see..."
(I haven't fully written like this in years so feedback is very much appreciated.) | 2022-08-13T14:22:17 | 2022-08-13T12:58:22 | 26 | 16 |
[WP] A secretly immortal man is given a life sentence for a crime he didn't commit and now fears the discovery of his true nature is only a matter of time. | I used to think my lawyers would save me.
A while ago, before the trial and the conviction and the last thirty years, I hired the best legal team New York had to offer, because, well, money isn't an issue when you've got forever to accumulate it. And I didn't want to take any chances.
The first time I met Michael - the lead on my case, a guy with salt and pepper hair and a perfectly square face - I thought he would be my ticket out. Here was a guy who inspired confidence. Here was a guy who people would listen to. Who would tell my story, help convince everyone else of the truth.
Instead, in that waiting room at Riker's, the first thing he said to me was, "I've got to let you know, the facts aren't on your side. I've read the newspapers. I've seen the police reports." At this, he paused with a grave look on his face, staring at me intently through the glass partition. Did he want a confession?
"Look," I said. "Let me tell you my story," but he raised a palm to stop me.
His face animated again. "Now, I've got bad news and good news."
"The good news is, I'm innocent," I replied. It wasn't intended as a joke, of course, but Michael laughed.
"Now that's something I haven't heard before."
"I'm innocent."
He grimaced. "You have to trust my judgment, Evan. I'm your attorney. This will work best if we're honest with each other."
"This is honesty."
He ignored this. "As I said, I've got bad news and I've got good news. The bad news is, the death penalty's back in New York. The good news is, I think we can plead you down to life. Which would be a pretty good result, all things considered."
"But I've only got one life," I replied.
***
Long after my trial, after I dumped Michael and hired a separate set of lawyers for the appeals, and then another set of lawyers for another set of appeals, I started fantasizing about death. About dying in different ways, peaceful ways, gruesome ways, newsbreaking deaths, quiet deaths, anywhere in between. It's not hard to think of death when just about everyone you've known has come and gone.
I had grown a beard in prison, though not immediately. I did it deliberately, around year ten, when one day I stopped shaving. I had to look older somehow, I rationalized. I had to show some physical change. I'd guess that it fooled people for a while, staved off a few questions, even when no new wrinkles appeared on my face as they did others.
Around year twenty, I adopted a slight shuffle in my walk, and by year twenty-five, a full limp. Some days, though, I would forget - sprinting a bit too quickly to the bathroom, or marching a bit too hungrily toward the chow line - and I'd get questions, and I'd curse myself for the lapse. I got in fights to pass the time, but nobody could ever hurt me for long. Guards would wheel me to the infirmary and wouldn't be able to figure out why by the time we arrived. Some prisoners - and they were always the ones doing life, because the guards never stuck around for long enough - began to figure me out, and I swore them to silence in exchange for a promise to pass on my secret if they ever got close to death. They became loyal, unwavering in their devotion. Of course, I had nothing to tell them.
In time, I even found some comfort in the routine. All the years of running around, moving from one place to another, concocting one life while abandoning another, began to seem tiresome. At least in here, there was security. One day, I received a call. The voice on the other end was young.
"My name is Jennifer," she began. 'I'm a student at Cardozo Law School here in New York, and I'm working with the Innocence Project."
"And?"
"There's been some recent advances in forensic DNA testing that we feel could potentially help us exonerate certain wrongfully convicted inmates. We've reviewed the court record for your case, and we think it's promising. Would you be interested in setting some time aside to discuss this with us?"
I stared at the wall a long time after hanging up. | I stand before the judge, a truly ancient crone, as she drops the gavel.
I turn to look at my attorney, and he is flabbergasted. He looks back worriedly, then drops his eyes like they all have for the last 500 years.
The bailiff approaches to remand me. I raise my wrists and he shackles them in some flimsy steel the probably does just fine for the average man. The clasps clink shut and bang against my cufflinks.
I am led away, and I think. I was quite surely in a different nation twenty years ago when my alleged victim was brutally raped and killed. A frame job like this would have to be extraordinary, well resourced and planned by a genius sociopath. Only a government or powerful body corporate could get me convicted even if I had murdered an infant in a stroller in broad daylight and pranced about covered in the blood. Something like this was neigh-on unthinkable.
I am in-processed. It is more human than my prior incarcerations. I am handed new clothes and made to wear them after bathing. Or rather, being hosed off like an animal. I'm encouraged, it means less chance of encountering lice once inside.
My clothing is locked away for my later recovery, a watch from Sweden, shoes from Italy, a suit from France and a medallion that Kublai Khan received as a gift that had originally been made in Damascus before Christ was born. I would have to come back for that one.
These distractions past, I am led into the general population, and perform the usual rituals. I think for the next few days. I am sure that no system of record keeping could have exposed me yet, though the days are getting closer that could have my secrecy drowned in an ocean of bureaucracy. As I win my first fistfight against a man with a wobbly Swastika on his jaw, I begin to wonder who else could have possibly put together the resources to make this happen. I decline to kill him, but my trained fingers ensure he will not walk again without surgery or an acupuncturist.
In solitary, I am attacked again. The door opens and men in body armor rush into the cell. I do not resist as they taze and pummel me with rubber batons, then drag me out in a bloody mess. I comfort myself with images of my fingernails opening veins in their necks.
I am bound to a steel chair. A man in a suit asks me questions. I frighten him, he is young and weak. I tell him secrets about his father and he believes them because they are true, and he remembers and he weeps right there on the tabletop. He leaves. Time passes. The door opens and they send in another, a woman. She offers me coffee, brandy, my choice of slow poisons. I do not speak to her. I imagine her naked, bound, gasping beneath me and I show her my thoughts through my eyes.
She becomes aroused, then frightened, and then she leaves. I have forgotten her name before the door closes.
I am alone for a while. A day. I become hungry and they do not feed me.
I become bored. I deform my wrists the way I was shown to do in Bulgaria when my profession was to lie from a stage and smile behind makeup, before I had laid with my first woman. I stand from my seat and command the muscles and ligaments to rejuvenate themselves. There is no response as I leave me seat, the room remains a brightly lit, buzzing emptiness containing only me.
The door is locked. I knock on it. It opens. There is a small black man in the hallway. It is not the same hallway that I came through when I was brought into the room. No, it has changed. There is carpet now, and the sterile, brutal cinderblock is now wood paneling. I return my attention to the man. He wears a linen suit and a golden hoop earring. His eyes are that of a butcher or a tailor, always weighing and measuring.
The man gestures with his hand and begins to walk down the hallway. I follow.
He stops in front of a door like many others we have passed. He lifts a hand, inviting me to open the door. I do so. Within is a scene from every libertarian's evil fantasies, a room of hard-eyed men and woman wearing a years' wages in cloth and another three years in metals and stones. There are two speaking on mobile phones, and they quickly end their calls as I walk in, wearing torn prison clothing and my own body fluids now a day dry.
The small man enters the room behind me.
"Welcome, brother. My name is Hannibal, and you have heard of my endeavors. We have made great effort to bring you into the fold. I believe you will enjoy it here." | 2014-08-18T06:23:17 | 2014-08-18T05:29:29 | 173 | 60 |
[WP] You've heard of guardian angels. I want you to write a story about a guardian demon. | “I quit,” Bezal hissed at his supervisor.
“You can’t quit. That’s not how it works,” replied the demon in charge of district 27.
“I just can’t do this anymore. Look, I know the kid is destined for greatness and one day he will open fire on a Romanian Circus setting a new record for dwarf and bearded lady kills, but come on.”
“I think you are forgetting that one action will inadvertently start the next world war,” the supervisor replied.
“Ya ya ya. I know. Three separate genocides, billions of people dead, and dogs and cats living together. Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep this kid on track? Yesterday, he helped an old lady across the street….and didn’t even steal her purse.”
“Sounds tough. Have you tried the bully thing?”
“Oh that’s a good one. In fifteen years I hadn’t thought of that,” Bezal replied. “Of course I have, but bullies just aren’t what they use to be. Now they go online and call you a fag. Subject99 just turns that shit off.”
“Online huh? I guess we could bring in an IT consultant. We have enough of them.”
Bezel flustered. His horns flushed with a green tint. For the last decade, he was stuck trying to groom this stupid human into an evil killing machine and most of his attempts failed dramatically. He had tried to get him to molest his cousin, kill a neighborhood pet, hell even download a damn movie. Nothing.
“I don’t want a freaking IT guy. I want a transfer. Isn’t there a rundown town in the Middle East that needs another suicide bomber or something?”
“You and I both know I don’t have the authority to send you into Iraq. You want to talk that shit, take it up with GW. Two doors down the hall and-“
The supervisor’s burecratic BS was cut short when Bezal doubled over in pain. He grabbed his chest and let out a ferocious howl.
“Are you ok?”
“No, I’m not ok. The kid just gave reddit gold to some asshole with cancer. Look this is what my day is like. Every day, every hour. You gotta help me,” Bezal pleaded.
“The file is never wrong, and the files says that this kid changes everything,” the supervisor said waving a tattered manila folder in Bezal’s face.
Bezel rolled his eyes. Then something caught his attention. It was a scent. It stunk like fresh baked cookies. He snatched the file from his supervisor and ran his scaly nose over the paper.
“Do you smell that? Do you freaking smell that stench? This file has been compromised. It smells like an angel has touched the damn thing.”
“Oh my Devil! I smell it. Oh no. That means we have been infiltrated. You may have a rival. There very well could be a guardian angel tapping your bitch’s ass when you leave the room. That could explain a lot.”
“That son of a bitch! Nobody manipulates Subject99 but me! I gotta go. I’m gonna rip those little wings off that bastard when I catch him.”
“Devil speed, Bezal. Devil Speed.”
With that Bezal disappeared into a cloud of noxious gas. The supervisor coughed and waved his hand in the air trying to clear the smoke. It was unsuccessful and a powerful coughing fit overtook him. His body shook and a small puff of white feather fell from his dark robe. He quietly pushed them under the desk with his foot and smiled.
| There was always a way, in these deals with the Devil, that someone suffered and it was always, eventually, the mortal. He seemed to feed off of the pain and misery He caused.
Luzhael smiled as he thought about his former lord, his cruel lips twisting and a gleam coming into his golden eyes as he remembered the moment he had stood up against the Prince of Darkness, the feeling of pride when he had stood over the panting demi-god. Luzhael chose to leave Hell, taking almost a thousand demons with him, in an effort to win back his place at the side of his true Father.
His current assignment was a man who was so desperate he was in a barn attempting to summon Lucifer. Luckily Luzhael had done this before and knew how to pull it off. He wasn't, after all, without power to put on a good show. He waited for the man to finish lighting the candles and centre himself inside a protective circle of salt, like somehow it would protect him for Lucifer himself. The man began to chant, and Luzhael summoned his powers; flames sprang up around his shoulders and upper arms, his black, leathery wings unfurled and fanned the room, extinguishing every candle in one whoosh of air. He strode forward, a low growl emanating from his throat as his eyes fixed to the now trembling mortal.
'Why have you summoned me, Mortal?' Luzhael almost spat the word. The man cowered and let out an almost inaudible squeak of terror. 'Well?'
'I've summoned you...' the little man began in a shrill voice. He cleared his throat. 'I've summoned you,' he said more normally, 'to make a deal for my soul.'
Luzhael laughed deep and long. 'I already have claim on you when you die, you fool. Did you really think you were ever good enough to cross lose pearly gates?' He chuckled again, a sardonic smile appearing on his animalistic face. 'It's gonna take a lot of work to get out of my clutches, so what'd be in it for me?'
The man looked stunned. 'I'm going to Hell when I die?' he asked, almost hysterical.
'Yes, Mortal.' The demon leaned forward and stepped over the line of salt on the floor. 'And it will take everything you can do to escape that fate. If ever you do, talk to me again.' With that he turned and walked into the shadows, where he seemed to just dissipate into the air.
The man stood stunned, rooted to the spot and almost unable to believe what had just happened. Luzhael watched from the shadows and sent and whisper of a thought to the man. 'Go to the church, ask to volunteer,' it said.
He smiled as he watched the man nod and smile to himself before heading out the door of the decrepit barn. With a little encouragement that man would now devote himself to the church, and then, Lucifer won't touch him, he'll be sent to either Heaven or Limbo, and either is better than the torture and unending agony of being dissected alive, over and over again.
Luzhael shook the image from his mind and returned his gaze to the man that was now climbing into the seat of his truck, knowing that if it wasn't for him there would just be one more damned for the Morning Star. Luzhael didn't know if it was possible to be readmitted into Heaven, but he had to try. Before the Fall they were beautiful, peaceful, and loyal. Just not loyal enough. Now they were monsters, the things of nightmare, and Luzhael and his brothers who defied Satan would use that to push people toward God. Some of the brothers still had a tendancy to get a little over enthusiastic when punishing the wicked, but they'd soon get the hang of how things work on Earth. He smiled before he opened the rift that would take him to the cave system that served as their home. | 2014-11-12T11:35:03 | 2014-11-12T10:43:13 | 22 | 11 |
[WP] An RPG character is cursed with a higher intelligence than their player. | "No, dammit, don't charge, don't charge!" I cried out in my mind while my legs ran towards the dragon.
I was clad in armor; from head to toe I was covered with metals that most who passed me by only read from ancient tomes. My weapon was one that a legend himself once used and locked away. My belt consisted of tonics that even the greatest alchemist couldn't concoct. I was a god among men.
Yet I charged against a dragon, a beast that breathed fire, with skin that had scaled that even the sharpest blade couldn't pierce. And I charged against it like an idiot.
My life was constantly in jeopardy. I had fought this dragon for close to 2 hours. I died. I got back up. I charged again. I died, I got back up and I kept charging. It was because my body was controlled by a man-child of an imbecile mind. Perhaps God thought it humorous to give me a gift of immortality, inhuman resistance and the ability to stop time to rearrange my belt and armor at any time I see fit, and all these gifts came with a condition: that my body and will would be controlled by another.
It wouldn't be such a bad thing. We would work together and rule this realm as god kings. But what does this imbecile that controls me like one would a puppet, what does he do?
He collects flowers. And butterflies. And bloody rocks. I am a rock collector. I am a rock collecting GOD that slays dragons whence this manchild feels twenty days worth of collecting flowers and rocks is enough and now it is time to hunt.
People laugh at me, because there was a dragon in the midst, and my manchild of a pupeteer decided this location would be a great time for the Great Flower Harvest and when this dragon, this majestic beast took aim at me, what do I do? Do I perhaps retreat and trick the dragon with a flank attack and slice off its wings with this legendary sword that I possess? Or do I poison it with one of the thousand poisons I carry in my arsenal, or should I perhaps tame it and even ride it into battle against my other foes.
No, says my putrid brain puppeteer. I'll fucking charge at it.
Edit: Holy crap this blew up! My first ever gold, thank you kind stranger!!
EDIT 2: One of the users mentioned a blog based on this character, its got me thinking. I'll definitely update this post with a link once I've written my first post based on this character
| "Dana, are you coming with us? You know this quest is time sensitive!" Jazz shouts from the other side of the room. He's still holding the door open and is peering inside at me. I sit behind the counter of my small potion shop and glue my eyes on the newer potion that I've been working on as of lately.
"I told you that it's dangerous..." I mumble to myself though Jazz is too far away to hear my empty voice. I look back up at him and my heart sinks a little. He's so adventurous and I am just a young mage. He wants to fight his way through the world with his warrior brethren while I sit here day in and day out trying to come up with the safest potions for him. His bright blue eyes are staring into mine and the sunlight is caught in the golden curls of his hair. My lips part as if to let the words out but I cannot think of anything to say.
"Suit yourself, Dana! I'll see you when we get back. You're welcome to join us at the tavern!" With that, the door to my shop slams shut.
I get back to work on my potion. If Jazz would just *wait* a little bit, I might be able to make their quest safer! Instantly, the recipe comes to me. I stand up from my stool in a fit of ecstasy and my brown waves fall into my eyes as I dash out into my herb garden.
Handfuls of herbs lie in front of me as I boil the water. I sort out the pure leaves from the damaged ones and begin to stir my concoction. The sweet aroma dances circles through the shop as the potion is completed. I swipe my thumb across the bottle and the stats enter my mind's eye: +60 fire resistance, +35 speed, +200 hp, +99 accuracy, +150 damage.
Fighting the Dragon of the Valley might be easier with these buffs! The potion would last an hour... Yes that would work wonders for Jazz! I wrap the small bottle in a layer of cloth and place it in my leather satchel.
I race through the town as fast as I can. I may not be a fighter, but the minimal armor that is necessary for my line of work makes it easy to move quickly. Within 20 minutes, I arrive at the mouth of the valley.
I see Jazz below. His silver armor is stained burgundy with the blood of our friends. He is standing alone with his blade drawn towards the dragon. His golden hair is singed black from the flames that surround him. My eyes start to tear up and I step forward into the valley.
An invisible wall throws me backwards. The words appear above me... "TIME SENSITIVE QUEST: Only one party at a time. Please wait 30 MINUTES before trying again."
I scream out as the flame surround Jazz and he falls. The dead warriors around him accept him as one of their own and the dragon disappears. The message disappears as I watch Jazz's body disintegrate before my eyes.
I sit paralyzed in the soft grass of the valley. "If only you had listened to me..." I whisper with my empty voice. | 2015-01-09T11:35:26 | 2015-01-09T10:52:01 | 1,177 | 29 |
[WP] You have had an imaginary friend. One day you find that your friend is no longer invisible to everyone, but you are. | "Alright, let's go play," I said to my friend beside me. From her desk, my mom sighed with annoyance.
"I told you 5 minutes ago, Annie, I can't go out and play." She didn't even turn around from the computer as she complained. Too busy as always.
"I wasn't talking to you, Mom," I said, sticking out my tongue. "I was talking to Penelope, she was suggesting we go out."
"Oh, Penelope suggested that, did she?" I could hear my mom's patronizing tone. She never seemed to like my friend. "Well, then you and Penelope go have fun. I need to work."
"We will," I promised bitterly. "Don't you worry about it."
Penelope had barely shut the door behind us before I started to rant. "Ugh, I can't stand when she talks to me like that. Like I'm crazy or something."
"Don't worry about it," Penelope said, tossing her pink hair over her shoulder. "I've told you before, she can't see me. She might think you are."
"Yeah but if she would just listen to me for once... arrgh. Instead she's always too busy working to even look at me. And then she just uses that stupid tone of voice to dismiss everything I say..." I kicked a white stone down the street in frustration.
"It could always be worse." Penelope had a sympathetic smile on her face. She always looked a little sad when I fought with my mom.
"I doubt that," I growled, stomping off down the street. "Come on, let's go get some ice cream or something."
--
"Wake up," I heard my mom say. "It's time for school."
I rolled over in my bed and stared up at the white-stucco ceiling. "Yeah yeah, I'm getting up."
"Did you hear me Annie? I said it's time to wake up!" My mom repeated herself like I hadn't just answered her. I tried not to roll my eyes in response.
"Yeah Mom, I heard you," I said, sitting up in my bed. "What's the big deal?"
"You're going to be late if you don't wake up!" my mom insisted. I opened my mouth to retort, but the words froze in my mouth. She wasn't even looking at me, she was shaking the body laying beside me in bed. Penelope's pink hair poked out the top and she stirred into wakefulness.
"Sorry Mom," I heard her say in my voice. "Getting up now."
"Finally," my mom grumped. "I swear you sleep like the dead, Annie."
I stared at Penelope with my mouth hanging open wide. She gave me a mischievous smile.
"I told you there were worse things."
--
*Check out more stories at /r/Lexilogical. And if you enjoyed this, you may also enjoy my [choose your own adventure story](http://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2gj7co/wp_write_a_first_person_account_of_a_fictitious/ckjnnyy).* | "Come out come out wherever you are", Gina screams, and I shiver from behind the curtains. "Here I go."
Through the thin layer of white fabric, I follow her blurry shadow; going through the living room, searching, looking.
Under the couch and behind the stairs and by the bed, she searches. She can't see me.
No one can see me, here where I hide.
"Jack", she begins. "Is that you?" And pulls open the closet door.
No one.
From behind the curtain, I giggle. She'll never find me.
Jack's behind the fridge. That's where she's heading.
She finds Linda on the way, first, hiding in the bathroom.
"Got you!" She screams, and they go by dangerously close to the curtains, where I am.
No one can see me, here where I hide.
And now Linda, she lost, she's in the couch, she's waiting for the game to end. Linda's it.
And Gina heads for the fridge. Gina heads for Jack. Gina peeks around. Slow like a turning weather for the worst, Gina puts her
head around the fridge and -- I can't see it clear, through the fog of the curtain -- but she smiles. Yes she does.
"Found you, Jack!"
And Jack comes out, and he smiles, and he's happy Gina sees him.
He's happy people see him.
"All right, who's it now?" Jack asks, and throws a look my way.
He sees me.
From behind the curtain, I giggle. No one will find me, here where I hide.
But he sees me.
He stops mid-smile. We lock eyes.
I put my index finger over my lips and tell him to be quiet, and I smile.
I giggle.
I laugh, and I step away from the curtain towards them.
"Jack", I say. "Greg", he says. "Go away, please", he says.
He doesn't like me very much.
The girls say nothing, and go on like they didn't see me.
Because they didn't.
No one can see me, here where I hide. No one but Jack.
Sometimes no one can see Jack. Sometimes I'm it. Sometimes they look behind the curtains, and I'm the one they find, and Jack just waits in silence.
But today? Today Jack's in charge, and I'm invisible.
I go around them, all the while turning my head to hold onto the stare at his scared, nervous eyes.
"There will come a day" I say, heading for the door. "When it will be harder to hide me", I say. "Your father told you
that."
And I turn the front door's knob, and who I cross with on my way out is mom. His mom. Our mom.
"Hello, Mrs. Durden", the girls say, in unison.
"Hi Marla", I whisper, eyes still locked on Jack. She doesn't hear me, sure, but Jack's all ears and tears, terrified.
Boy, he really hates me.
"Jack, you father is -- what's going on?" Marla asks, noticing her child's red, teary eyes.
I'm right behind her. He runs to his mommy, hugging her close, sniff and snorting back tears of fear.
"Greg's back, mom."
From behind his mother, I smile.
No one can see me, here where I hide.
For now.
_____________
*Thanks for reading! If, by any chance, you are following my ongoing sci-fi novel Angel District, Chapter 4 (Part II) is already up on the blog. [Check it out](https://alpacareports.wordpress.com/angel-district/).*
| 2015-01-30T16:19:39 | 2015-01-30T15:58:07 | 356 | 50 |
[WP] A genie offers a man three wishes. After hearing his wish, the genie straight up refuses to grant it. | **Whoa, it's a genie!**
Yeah you rubbed the lamp, here I am., three wishes. Let's get this over with. I gotta take a shit.
**You shit in your lamp?**
You shit in YOUR lamp?
**Uh... no. My bathroom. It's in my house.**
One man's house is another genie's lamp.
**Fair enough. Well, ok, three wishes. I guess my first wish would be to turn me into a genie so I could have all that sweet awesome genie power.**
Not gonna happen.
**But I get three wishes.**
You do, but here's the thing. It's not like I can give you *whatever*. Like, I can't make you into a supernatural creature, because then that opens the door to people wanting to be God. Not opening that can of worms. So no. And you can't ask for three more wishes, but Robin Williams already told you that.
**Can I wish for more Robin Williams movies?**
No. Not because he's dead, but because you might get *Bicentennial Man 2*.
**What the fuck kind of genie are you?**
I'm way more genie than you'll ever be. But sometimes, it's an inexact science. No one studies--
**Please don't say it.**
Genie-ology.
**Fine, just give me a billion dollars, diplomatic immunity, and a TARDIS.**
How about $300, this rake, and a hug?
**That's it?**
Well... yeah. But it's better than nothing.
**Will you go away afterwards?**
Yes.
**Then fine.**
OK, but here's the thing. I'm a little light on cash, the rake actually belongs to your neighbor, and I'm not much of a hugger. And I really need to take that shit so, if you don't mind, I'm gonna go.
*POOF*
**Thank you, audience, for joining us for this play about the dangers of trusting genies over Jesus. Unlike genies, Jesus is able to grant you those wishes for diplomatic immunity and what not. Plus he's, like, God. And not a floaty lamp baby with delusions of wish fuffilling. Anyhow, hope you liked it. There's free chili in the lobby. Find us on Facebook. Good night.** | Peter was cleaning his house, various items, keepsakes and old artifacts from his family, friends, everyone. He did it every week; this time was to be no different.
Moving on to the next item, an old bottle encrusted with jewels, he thought about the rest of his day -- a crappy one, as usual. His mind returned to the present. About to set the bottle down, he suddenly noticed some smoke right in front of him. Startled, he leaped up, looking for a fire. Nothing. Now feeling stupid and slightly confused, he sat back down, returning to his work. However, something caught Peter's eye: the bottle had traces of that same smoke floating up into the air. Picking up the bottle, he noticed a strange glowing sign on it. Rubbing it off, the smoke suddenly expanded, pushing him back, and turning into a boy. Almost scared to death, he hurriedly backed up, staring. The boy was staring back, intently. Cautiously, Peter stood, and walked, slowly, toward the boy. He inspected the boy; he could not have been over 15 but his eyes were bright with intelligence. Finding the courage to speak, he asked, "Who are you?"
The boy replied: "I... am a djinn."
Almost bursting into laughter, Peter replied, "Sorry, but anyone knows that genies don't exist, and nor do any other mythical creatures."
"Djinn," the boy corrected. "I am able to grant three wishes."
"Ha! We'll see about that." Peter was thoroughly enjoying this, as his work wasn't exactly what one would call 'fun'. This boy was turning out to be a bit interesting.
"I will repeat once more: I am able to grant three wishes. There are certain rules. One of those rules is that your wishes may not allow, in any way, the granting of more wishes."
"Tell me the other rules."
"Of course. I have already mentioned the first. The second rule states that every single question and order will be taken as a valid wish. This means that you now have a total of one wish left. The last law states that every wish must be fulfilled if it is within the djinn's limits."
"Only one wish left? I haven't used a single one!" objected Peter, annoyed.
"You asked a question, and ordered me to tell you the laws. That accounts for two."
Sighing, Peter responded. "I haven't even seen what you can do. Give me a fortune, enough money to last a lifetime - and more."
"No."
"Pardon? I asked for a fortune."
"I can only grant wishes within my limits."
Peter sighed. This 'djinn' was going to be a pain. | 2015-03-15T23:09:47 | 2015-03-15T20:16:28 | 17 | 12 |
[WP] All across the world, everyone who falls asleep starts dying. With Bed Time nearing, the President calls together the world's greatest insomniac, caffeine-addicted scientists to find a solution. | It was the first time I approached my bed in days. As I approached bare, twin mattress tucked into the corner of my room, I could already feel it. In my hands. In my head. In the back of my eyelids. I knew I was tired. I knew I wanted sleep.
But for once...I was glad I had another sleepless night.
It was 2 A.M. now and I could see the flicker of my music streaming program;
"Are you still listening?"
I answer, in my head, 'Am I?'
I thought I had been listening to every song that came on the internet radio that night, but upon reflection, I could not remember a single track that had played through my blown-out-twenty-dollar speakers. Lumbering out of bed, and across my room, to the mouse and keyboard that had kept me company on so many of my sleepless nights; I decide to click the "x" that sends the webpage back to its own sleepy corner of the internet.
Having too much on my mind, knowing that sleep is far beyond grasp, I open the link to my favorite social media site "Frieddit," to see if there was some trivial fact, or meaningless argument that I could get involved with.
Of course.
Not a single blue link on the entire page. Every time I log into Frieddit I end up mildly disappointing at the lack of fresh content, but in my years of browsing I had never seen such a sheer lack of new posts. I begin to wonder if the site was having one of its frequent crashes, but every website I requisitioned had the same result: A complete lack of recent content.
This was getting strange.
Knowing it was futile before I even made the attempt, I unlock my cellphone to check the "Frieddit" app. Before I could get there, my phone relinquished a horrid alert that was reminiscent of a foghorn mixed with moist flatulence, followed by a popup window.
"*IF YOU ARE ALIVE AND READING THIS MESSAGE, CALL THE FOLLOWING NUMBER IMMEDIATELY*"
I felt a sudden pain in my chest. My head began to spin.
'If you are alive,' I thought to myself. 'Does this mean that people are dying?'
It could have been 30 seconds, it could have been 15 minutes, it could have been two hours. I have no idea how long it was that I sat there, with endless thoughts pouring through my mind; thoughts of confusion, thoughts of rationalization, thoughts of insanity. It had felt as if I had just finished some Satoshi Kon movie that I couldn't wrap my head around.
Eventually, however, I pick up the phone, and call the mysterious number.
"*I know you must be confused, and I wish I had time to explain, but I don't. So for now, you must trust me. If you would like there to be any future for mankind you must follow these next three steps precisely. One: You must NOT, by ANY MEANS, fall asleep, nap, doze off, rest your eyes, or otherwise. Two: if you see anyone who is sleepwalking, DO NOT interact with them at all. Third, and finally, there is a Black Hawk Helicoptor en route to the center of capital city; You need to there within two hours to meet it; if you are late, we may all be doomed*"
*Click*
To be continued in a few hours..
This is probably filled with grammatical errors and stuff. and who knows if its a good start to a story, this is the first creative writing I've done in years. I will try to finish it tonight when I am off work
Edit: Continuing...
I don't know what the mystery man on the phone wanted from me, and I am not sure if I should trust him, but the bizarre nature of the entirety of the nights events did not warrant new-found skepticism. With time being a factor, I only grab the essentials- Cellphone, wallet, lighter, and a dinky pocketknife, that i had retained from gradeschool. Leaving the house, I see no headlights down either direction of main street. Having no car of my own, I head around the front yard into the neighbors driveway. In the grass, a silhouette of a man with a garden hose. I am about to call out to the man to see if he can shed light on what may be going on, as I remember the warning I received on the phone *'...Sleepwalking...*'
I think to use my cellphone flashlight to see if he is in fact asleep, but worry that, if he is asleep, I may wake him-and face whatever consequence that brings. Instead I spark the lighter, muffling the flame with a cupped hand, and creep towards the shadow. I notice that the hose is running and underneath the man is a large puddle. As his face comes into view, the first thing I notice-crimson and rust, spattered all over his face-the unmistakable sight of dried blood. Thick and cracked, his neck and chin were caked in blood that certainly did not belong to him.
And, of course, eyes closed, slow heavy breathing...
Definitely asleep
| "Ethan, for the love of God, didn't you ever have a lucid dream!?"
Ethan looked back mid-run. Seven-headed Selena Gomez was still after him, the nail gun firing away like crazy, casting flying metal left and right around his body.
Panting, Ethan looked down at his hand. Nested between his fingers, the blue parakeet looked startled.
"You have to concentrate on the thing you want to make it happen!" the voice ringed in his ear again, as he slid-
jumped over a dumpster towards an alley, the whooshing sound of flying nails dangerously close to his ear.
"I only slept when I was drunk, Kyle! That's kind of the point of why I joined the task force, wasn't it, now?" Ethan replied, releasing the parakeet. "If I was a *good sleeper* I'd be trapped in here like the other idiots." He closed his eyes and tried to focus again.
*Gun. Gun. I need a gun to kill the giant Selena Gomez with seven heads that's –ouch!*
Ethan opened his eyes. His shoulder was bleeding – a stain of red growing in a deformed circle in all directions from
a nail ripping through the shirt.
"That bitch!" Ethan yelled, looking down, hoping for the gun.
The parakeet was back. It was metal-colored this time, at least. That was definitely progress, right there.
"WHY THE FUCK DO YOU KEEP THINKING OF PARAKEETS, ETHAN?" Kyle yelled in his ear, from the central base. "WHAT'S WITH YOU AND GOD DAMNED PARAKEETS?"
They had figured out what to do after about three days of Redbulls, coffee and 24 hour Papa Johns pizza, all
government-funded and consumed inside the Pentagon.
That's where and how they found out that people were not dead. People were trapped in a collective sleep. That's where and how, also, they decided someone had to go in, to figure out what was going on. Who was doing that. How to end it. Where and how they developed a system in which base (the coffee-and-pizza-filled Pentagon room, in this case) could communicate with the dreamer.
Where and how Ethan had volunteered to be the dreamer. Not because he was a particularly good lucid dreamer. Or because he was looking forward to saving the world from the collective sleep plague.
No, now that Ethan was sobering up, he was beginning to realize that his volunteering had more to do with the
eighth or ninth Bud Light he had had between the Redbulls.
You know, drunk courage? Except it didn't involve picking a fight over a girl who didn't want you in the first place. It involved running away from seven headed teen idols.
"Ok," Ethan whispered, leaning his body against the brick wall. He watched as seven-headed Selena Gomez went straight past him, heading down the alley, sniffing and searching. "Ok, I think I lost her. Who the fuck dreams of seven-headed Selena Gomezes?"
"That's what you have to find out, Ethan," Kyle's voice reached him, from base. "Whenever weird things starts
happening around you, it means there's a dreamer nearby."
"What if the weird shit is coming from my own mind?" Ethan asked, looking down at the parakeet, who was now
performing a D sharp rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody in the voice of James Earl Jones.
Ethan chuckled. "That's awesome."
"I think we'll be able to tell when the weirdness is coming from you," Kyle replied, in a tired voice. "Now go, come on. No time to waste."
Ethan raised his eyes. Selena Gomez was gone. Careful, he stepped away from the wall and kept on his way.
The sky was grey over his head, and a cold, end-of-afternoon wind was breezing down the alley, making his neck
hair rise.
"This is looking too normal, Ethan," Kyle's voice sounded. "You're stepping away from the dreamer."
Ethan stopped at the end of the alley, widening his eyes at the view stretching in front of him.
"Oh, no," Ethan replied, in a half-whisper. "I think I'm getting closer."
The floor ended abruptly at the very end of the alley, and so did the city. A thousand feet drop below, a sunny, deep valley extended itself in all directions towards a golden sky, cut by a zigzagging river of green. Patches of trees and bushes decorated the valley here and there, giving the whole place a Windows 95 wallpaper look.
Something cast a shadow over Ethan. He looked up. Sprouting from the sky behind him, a pterodactyl extended its wings majestically, soaring down towards the valley with a loud, high-pitched cry. The animal glided down past a group of long-necked brachiosaurus, smaller, feathered velociraptors and other reptiles before landing softly on top of a rock.
In a unison of a bad acid trip, the ground shook, and the dinosaurs, all of them, started the chant;
*The players gonna play, play, play, play, play… The haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate…*
"Ethan? Are you there?"
Ethan looked from the valley of Taylor Swift singing dinosaurs to his hand. "Who the fuck is this person?" he
asked the parakeet, taking a step down towards the valley.
"The fuck if I know," the parakeet answered, in James Earl Jones' voice.
| 2015-11-07T07:12:02 | 2015-11-07T06:08:26 | 88 | 27 |
[WP] The Crips and the Bloods ally with each other against ISIS. The world laughs as thousands of gang members board a cruise ship and set sail for the Middle East. The two gangs land on the shores of Syria and begin their fight against ISIS.
Let's see how the two gangs fare.
EDIT: These are great, guys! Thanks for all the stories. I've read some, and I'll read the rest later. | The boat was going to be a god-send for the West. Then Daryl accidentally stepped on LaShauwn's Puma. It was a bloodbath.
There were only 5 of us left when the boat hit the shore. Literally hit the shore. None of us could drive a boat and the Captain was killed in the crossfire. When the boat started to sink we knew it was over. I could swim, and so could Julio, but the other 3 died a slow death.
Just two of us left. A blood and a crypt.. Wait.. No.. Those were Latin King colors! I looked back towards the ocean to see a swarm of yellow draped men swimming to shore.
The Latin Kings knew these ignorant ass hood-rats couldn't work together. They'd decided to save America themselves. And they'd heard Afghanistan had all the good heroin. | Waves lap at the shore a young Syrian child picks up a stone to throw at the water her eyes are flooded war has ravaged the city and the future is un-certain a hermet crab catches her eye but a loud thud causes the creature to re-enter its shell, the child runs fearing another bombing raid but her gaze is fixated on the open sea as a blue red craft appears on crest of a wave, the hermit is now bouncing from the shock-waves but it soon becomes clear that the harrowing sound is not a form of artillery but very heavy bass.
"Where the hood, where the hood, where the hood at?
Have that nigga in the cut, where the wood at?
Oh, them niggaz actin up?!? Where the wolves at?
You better BUST THAT if you gon pull that".
Gleaming chrome jets scream through the water as one of the most pimp vehicles known to man strikes the beach with twerking force of a thousand ho's, the top of the craft appears to be made of platinum as the top starts to rotate a thick cloud of smoke creeps from the gold plated gaps and an african gentlemans face is revealed, smoking a joint worthy of Rick James himself, his eyes narrow as he stares at the fortified mosque over the horizon "time to roll on these bitch ass niggas" | 2015-12-07T10:25:57 | 2015-12-07T09:25:02 | 15 | 10 |
[WP] Usually, horrors take place in dark isolated areas in the middle of nowhere. Write a horror story that takes place in the middle of a busy area in broad daylight.
Twist the horror genre into a story that takes place in the middle of somewhere.
Edit: I've read every single story people have contributed and left a little bit of feedback for each story! Some seriously great imaginative writing. | "MY SON! WHERE IS MY SON?!"
People parted around the poor woman in rags, screaming on the side of the road as always. They knew someone inevitably would come to talk to her, just like they did once, and feel bad but realize she was beyond help, just like them.
"PLEASE YOU HAVE TO HELP ME!" she screamed, grabbing at the coattails of passerby's. All of them brushed her off, not saying a word.
"Mommy's gonna find you darling. Momma always finds you," she whimpered, all while nobody spared her a second thought.
Nobody paid attention when she stopped yelling. Nobody thought anything was wrong when she disappeared. She did this all the time. Nobody except a panicked woman also searching for her son, gone missing in the crowd. A woman who found the mother of rags sitting in an alley, rocking back and forth holding a still form and surrounded by many more. | She stood alone on the bus. A crowd of people surrounded her, but they didn't know her, they didn't give a damn what was happening to her. She breathed deep. Deep breaths. The mist rose up around her, slowly licking at the tops of her trainers and groping its way up her legs.
She had tried moving, but the mist spun faster. Of course no-one cared, or looked. If she said anything, they'd think she was crazy. Just a little mist. You could barely see it. But she could feel it. Its clammy touch drew its way closer to her centre, further up her legs. Her trouser legs stuck weirdly to her legs, where the mist had crawled.
Her stop! Her stop was soon. How would she be able to get off? Could she make a dash for it and hope she could outrun the mist? What if it came with her? Sod it! She had to do something! The bus pulled up to her stop and she madly dashed through the crowd, bowling over an old lady. She could feel the mist moving. Moving. Advancing up her body. It started to burn, from her feet until it started to burn up towards her throat.
The fire! She could feel it! Crawling over her, lapping at her. Eating her. She fell down, curling around herself. The fire blazed on. | 2016-02-02T10:53:29 | 2016-02-02T09:34:47 | 20 | 14 |
[WP]: A 92-year-old woman's phone number is one digit away from that of a local suicide hotline. She could have it changed, but she doesn't mind. | "Hello?"
"I can't fucking do this anymore." I cried out for help while gasping for air.
"Isabelle, is that you?"
*Isabelle, how the fuck does this woman know that slut?*
After spinning her words in my head for a moment, I knew it must be a mistake.
"No, I'm Natalie, or I was. I suppose none of that matters anymore."
"Honey what is the matter? Is your asthma acting up?"
*My asthma? I guess anxiety attacks could sound a bit asthmatic. Is this lady wasted?*
"No, my lungs are fine. My mind is the one drowning. I can't swim for much longer. I can feel it pulling me in."
The woman on the other side of the phone paused, then rather sternly said, "You must be one of Isabelle's friends. Now you listen to me, get out of that water right now young lady! It's too dark to be swimming and you're going to catch a cold!"
*A cold? This lady is totally wasted. Is she alright?*
"No, I'm not literally swimming. I'm depressed... fuck, I'm passed that now. Everyone around me is hurting because I'm alive. I'm ruining my marriage, I pushed all my friends away, I haven't even left my house in two months. The people around me would be better off if I just downed my whole script."
A weak cough faintly rang out from the phone. "Honey don't be so morbid, you have plenty left to accomplish. Do you like tea?"
*Tea? I do like tea.. But why does she want to know?*
"I do like tea but I'm out, my husband is staying at his friends, and I can't bother anyone else with this shit. I shouldn't even have called this hotline. What a waste of time."
Now it was crunching, like a cracker wrapper, coming from the speaker. "Hotline? I don't know what you're going on about but my front door won't shut and I need help. Isabelle said I could ask her friends for anything, will you come over? I know it's late. I'll pay the bus fare!"
I laughed. *That hasn't happened in a while. Did I call the wrong number? What the hell, maybe I should go help this lady. It's awfully cold out for the door to not seal.*
"Ma'am, I'm in Phoenix, is that close to you?"
She sighed in what sounded like relief, "oh yes, I'm in Glendale!"
I couldn't believe it.
"Okay I'll stay on the phone with you if that's okay, you can give me directions. I want you to know that you saved my life tonight."
She chuckled, "oh honey, you're the one coming to help me."
For the first time in what seemed like ages, I stepped out the door. Cold wind was slapping my face but it didn't matter. Someone needed my help, and that tea sounded damn good.
EDIT: Sorry about my horrendous formatting the first time, I was on mobile and it looked fine there. :<
| "Hello?" Her voice was raspy and I strained to hear. "Are you there?" she repeated softly. "I'm here to talk to you." I looked down at myself; the cuts on my arms still fresh with blood, the bottle of pills sitting on the bathroom sink, the bloody scissors laying on the floor...
"I can't do this anymore," I whispered quietly, sliding down the wall I leaned against. "It's all just too much..."
"What is, dear?" she cooed softly, her elderly voice reminding me of my own grandmother's. She had passed away two years back, the last beacon of positivity and encouragement in my miserable life. Now I worked two jobs, at least until I got fired from both last week, the rent was overdue, the debt collectors kept calling...
"Everything. The debt, the sadness, the voices..." They had started years ago when I was still in middle school. Anxiety gnawing as I second-guessed my every step and the gradually overwhelming depression that sunk me as friends and family scampered safely out of reach.
"What do they tell you?" she asked, and I could almost picture grandma again sitting on the couch of my parents' house each day when I burst in from school. Cookies would be waiting on the counter and I'd push past her as she smiled, perhaps living vicariously through my youthful energy. Only once the last cookies were gone would I remember my manners and go to hug her and her touch still lingered on my arms.
"They tell me to just end it..." I mumbled. "That it'll all be better on the other side..."
"There is no other side," she said quietly. "After this, it's all over. The good, the bad, the pain and the happiness." I glanced down at the lines of blood that were slowly drying, the stains on my white underwear turning from red to brown. "What do you want?"
"I want no more sadness and no more pressure and no more landlord harassing me for cash," I answered, thinking to the warning he had given me last week that I would be evicted on the first of the month if I didn't pay the last three months of rent. I fingered the scissors with my free hand, spinning them around on the tiled bathroom floor. They came to a stop, the open blades pointing towards me. "I have to do it, don't I?" I could almost hear her nod on the other end of the phone before she answered.
"It's the only way." I sighed and struggled to my feet, grabbing at the sink. The box of pills was open already and still nearly full thanks to my indecisiveness before calling. "How are you doing it?" she asked and I frowned at the perverseness of the question before answering.
"Pills first," I answered. "And then the scissors on my wrist."
"Blood thinners?" she asked and I nodded even though she couldn't see me. "Don't forget all up your arms. And your neck, too, if you want to make sure." I grunted in response, the sharpened blade cutting a new line across my arm. The blood flowed freely, a small puddle pooling on the tiles.
"Again," she encouraged and I cut again and I took another pill and then I cut a bit deeper.
"That's it," she moaned softly as I felt my breathing grow slower and more labored. "Keep doing that." One more cut, I told myself but the scissors and phone slipped from my grasp and I fell to the side, my head landing harshly against the side of the bathtub before it all went dark.
*****
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out more stories at /r/MatiWrites. Constructive criticism and advice are always appreciated! | 2016-02-06T14:05:09 | 2016-02-06T13:24:15 | 400 | 29 |
[WP] God forgot about Earth soon after Adam and Eve, fully expecting them to die. One of the Angels just informed him they survived, and the population is over 7 billion. | God:"Hey Gabe-Ral."
Gabriel:"Please stop calling me that boss. But yes, what can I do for you?"
God:"I lost track of the eternity that is time, do you have notes on the Adam and eve project? I wanted to see how long they'd last until they died. I meant to check up on them and forgot. I'll get around to perfecting the species in a few billion years maybe."
Gabriel:"Actually God... They procreated."
God:"That's actually... disturbing. I gave them that function? Must have been left in from an old design. How long did the offspring survive?"
Gabriel:"Eerm... actually 7 billion-"
God:"Oh don't pull my leg. I know it hasn't been 7 *billion* years. I haven't lost track of time that much. It was like, one power-nap. Seriously. How long did they last?"
Gabriel:"There's... 7 billion of them still alive right now... They... wrote a book about you."
God:"I... what? Is this the book? ... OH GOD AN APPLE?! A SNAKE?! Excuse me! I poked them with my finger and dropped an ORANGE on them. Man they have bad memories... but still not too bad for an imperfect species... OH MAN THIS IS GREAT. HEY LUCIFER!"
Satan:"What's up god? What's this?"
God:"You know how you chased around that one dude with a pitchfork on your tropical island beach resort on the edge of the universe while drunk a couple of millennia ago?"
Satan:"Yeah what of it?"
God:"Yeah so. They wrote a book about how you lead 'hell' - and it is the ultimate punishment and you're the incarnate of all evil! Oh man... talk about a misunderstanding. You should give this a read, this is the best comedy in ages."
Gabriel:"Actually. A large number of them use this book or a variant as a rule book. They've slaughtered countless millions in your name. "
God:"..... HA. COOL! Quick lets make another one of these, this time lets fuck with them and give them an appendix and natural evolution! Oh god this species is the best." | Inside a large lab with sparkling white walls, a man sat in front of a computer. His finger held a small pencil he tapped over and over on the screen.
After tapping the screen a few more times, groaning impatiently once and then running a hand through his beard over and over, he got up from his seat.
"Oh, my back!" He said as he got up. A smaller looking human walked up to him and offered him a glass of water.
"Oh, thank you, angel uh...#1?" The man looked down at the figure in front of him, a guilty look on his face.
The small figure patted the bigger one gently on the knee. "It's okay God, I'm angel #666. #1 got deported quite a long time ago. I'm the newest guy."
"Oh, okay...uh...welcome aboard?"
"Sir, I joined a few thousand years ago."
"Ah, my memory is not what it used to be."
"Sir, actually there is something related to that."
"What is it?" The God said, now leaning over his desk, looking back at the screen, at the numbers scrolling up.
"Umm...do you remember the likeness project?"
"The likeness...? Oh yeah! Hahaha" And saying so God broke out in laughter and his entire body seemed to shake as he did, including his belly.
"Oh hohoho!" He said, wiping a small tear that had formed around his eyes. He pulled his chair towards him and sat down, now quite out of breath.
"Oh that was a funny project, wasn't it angel? A male and a female that looked like me. 'In my own image' as Lucie had said. Man, I wonder what happened to that."
The small figure looked at its feet and wrung his hands in front of him, "Well, it's about that..."
"Go on." God said, still smiling, but his eyes had narrowed at angel #666.
"Sir, Lucifer didn't turn the program off..."
"What?!" God thundered and stood up quickly. The chair shot out from under him and crashed as it hit the wall behind God. "What did you say?"
"Sir, Lucifer didn't let the program end. He made further copies of Subjects #A-d-a Male and #E-v-e Female."
God looked across the room, a blank stare in his eyes. "It was Earth, right? That distant planet?"
"Yes, God."
"How many?" God asked, now leaning heavily on the table, looking old.
"Seven billion, sir."
"Oh my Steve." God said, and fell down on the floor. | 2016-03-07T05:34:29 | 2016-03-07T04:17:08 | 30 | 12 |
[WP] God forgot about Earth soon after Adam and Eve, fully expecting them to die. One of the Angels just informed him they survived, and the population is over 7 billion. | "Father, you have *got* to stop these new things from invading my house!"
The Divine Nebula twisted around to the Morningstar, and performed its grin logarithm. "Now, Son, you know I only ran these simulations out of morbid curiosity. What seems to be the problem?"
I started, watching the oncoming storm rising through the galaxy. The Morningstar sighed, a distinctly mortal thing. "Father, that simulation you ran all those years ago. The one with the two four-base beings in the Aurora machine? They're still going." The Divine Nebula sparkled, Creation wandering across its starcloud. "More importantly, Father, they are....much more populous than we expected them to get. And they're stealing my things now.
"Apparently, I'm the ruler of their dark afterlife. And you cast me down, Father, in their minds." The Morningstar sneered, his tentacled limbs moving in a horrible parody of a shrug. "Still, Ithink you had best look in, Father. I thought you should know." The Morningstar turned to leave, and the Divine halted him with a gaseous emission.
"Son, bring the Auropra simulation to me, and let us take a look."
/ / / / / / / /
I looked out tot he stars, knowing that they weren't real. It's a hoprrible...**freeing**...thought.
"I know you're out there, God!" I yelled into the storm. "**I DARE YOU, STRIKE ME DOWN IF YOU HAVE THE COURAGE!**"
/ / / / / / / /
"hMMM..." the Divine Nebula hummed. "I like him, he's sparky. Let's grant him his wish."
The Divine struck him down by way of lightning. I watched on. The Divine turned to me.
"Well, there are plenty more where that one came from, so it's okay to grant his wish. And remember - if you do it right, people will wonder if you were ever involved at all." | Inside a large lab with sparkling white walls, a man sat in front of a computer. His finger held a small pencil he tapped over and over on the screen.
After tapping the screen a few more times, groaning impatiently once and then running a hand through his beard over and over, he got up from his seat.
"Oh, my back!" He said as he got up. A smaller looking human walked up to him and offered him a glass of water.
"Oh, thank you, angel uh...#1?" The man looked down at the figure in front of him, a guilty look on his face.
The small figure patted the bigger one gently on the knee. "It's okay God, I'm angel #666. #1 got deported quite a long time ago. I'm the newest guy."
"Oh, okay...uh...welcome aboard?"
"Sir, I joined a few thousand years ago."
"Ah, my memory is not what it used to be."
"Sir, actually there is something related to that."
"What is it?" The God said, now leaning over his desk, looking back at the screen, at the numbers scrolling up.
"Umm...do you remember the likeness project?"
"The likeness...? Oh yeah! Hahaha" And saying so God broke out in laughter and his entire body seemed to shake as he did, including his belly.
"Oh hohoho!" He said, wiping a small tear that had formed around his eyes. He pulled his chair towards him and sat down, now quite out of breath.
"Oh that was a funny project, wasn't it angel? A male and a female that looked like me. 'In my own image' as Lucie had said. Man, I wonder what happened to that."
The small figure looked at its feet and wrung his hands in front of him, "Well, it's about that..."
"Go on." God said, still smiling, but his eyes had narrowed at angel #666.
"Sir, Lucifer didn't turn the program off..."
"What?!" God thundered and stood up quickly. The chair shot out from under him and crashed as it hit the wall behind God. "What did you say?"
"Sir, Lucifer didn't let the program end. He made further copies of Subjects #A-d-a Male and #E-v-e Female."
God looked across the room, a blank stare in his eyes. "It was Earth, right? That distant planet?"
"Yes, God."
"How many?" God asked, now leaning heavily on the table, looking old.
"Seven billion, sir."
"Oh my Steve." God said, and fell down on the floor. | 2016-03-07T04:27:53 | 2016-03-07T04:17:08 | 16 | 12 |
[WP] Every time you get sick in this life, it means you just died on another universe. Right now everyone on earth is ill but you. | The hospitals were full, the schools were closed, and the whole planet had come to a standstill. There were so many conflicting opinions on the multiverse phenomenon, it was incredible to see how people reacted to the experience of being ill. Some people went crazy, trying to work out what they missed, consumed with the knowledge of their own near death experiences and locking themselves away whenever they had a slight sniffle. Others appreciated it, finding hope in every cough and sneeze, thanking whatever power they believed in that they had survived. But even they lost their hope when the entire world fell ill.
The knowledge that an alternate earth had just been destroyed made the whole world sick to their stomachs, if they weren’t already. World leaders, children, criminals, all curled up with fevers, colds, flu’s, all aware of what happened, all lamenting the loss of another them. All of them except me.
Now don’t get me wrong, I was freaking out. But apart from that I was perfectly healthy. I wasn’t sick, I was curious and excited. An extinction event, and I had survived. *What had happened? How did I do it? Why me?* My mind was in overdrive, working through the questions and theories.
Maybe it had been a virus, and I was the only person in the world who was immune. Or a nuclear war had broken out at the very moment I was taking a tour of an old bunker. A plethora of possibilities raced through my mind as I started aimlessly downstairs.
As I walked past the living room I head noise. My whole family was curled up on the sofa, watching a film and looking like barely animated corpses.
“Son… could you get me a glass of water? I don’t have the energy to get up right now” My father wheezed, and I nodded my head in confirmation. “I don’t understand it, how is he so healthy and fine? The whole world is out at the moment” I heard him ask the rest of the family as I turned away, a smirk playing on my lips. I heard them start discussing my health and their theories as I went to the kitchen for my fathers water. As I returned, I heard my little sister, her voice weak with the fever pipe up.
“Don’t you remember dad? He was ill last week.”
| I really wondered what could be happening there. I was quite calm about the whole thing, but you could put that down to me being the only person not dying in another universe.
When doctors realised that the entire population of Earth was ill at the same time, the government didn't have much choice other than to come clean. Frankly, I was more worried about how the government knew about other universes, but what everyone else was worried about was that the entire population of another universe just died.
Well, maybe that's not entirely true. It could potentially be just under 7 billion deaths happening simultaneously in different universes, or 3.5 billion in two universes each, or any other combination. I think that was what really made everyone lose faith, the fact that the government knew jack-shit about anything, while claiming to have an explanation.
The latest reports show three more governments toppled in the riots, and the more fringe sci-fi cults out there were growing drastically in numbers. Doomsday cults were especially vocal, claiming that we were next and other nonsense, but no-one listened to them. Another 'breaking news' story flashed on the TV screen. Another church had been firebombed.
Quite typically, Britain was not doing well. I think we were the first country to start rioting, but I'm not sure. Is anyone even sure what they're worried about? It's the shock. I mean, religion has been effectively disproved, the entire population of Earth had died somewhere else, and there were people who had known the whole time. Everyone just lost it.
I, meanwhile, was curious as to why I wasn't ill. That meant that I had survived somewhere in which literally everybody else had died. Maybe all of the days spent playing video games had payed off, and Darwin had handed me the grand prize of 'best at not dying!' Actually, since it was an alternate universe, I was probably completely ripped there. Or maybe it was identical, who knows? Could I work out the probability? It would be something to do while everyone simmered down.
But I still couldn't shake off the question: how? It was a weird feeling in my head, not an illness, nor was it curiosity, but I couldn't place it. Besides, it was fun to theorise. Maybe I had superpowers and had survived the wrath of Doctor Evil, maybe I had built a survival bunker to survive the Earth-destroying asteroid, or maybe I had built a death-laser to rule the Earth!
Then I figured out what I was feeling. Maybe, I had been the only person to remain calm, and so had survived the self-destructive nature of panic to live on, and inhabit an empty Earth. As the TV showed people killing each other in the streets, and political tensions rising, I realised that I was feeling deja vu. It was happening again.
EDIT: Grammar | 2016-04-05T05:48:32 | 2016-04-05T05:30:32 | 53 | 27 |
[WP] An outbreak of a disease occurs. You discover you are immune. You watch the world around you crumble. | It started with a cough. My little sister. My brother. My mom. My dad. All staying home from school and work while I carried on. Within weeks, we were down to half the class showing up, then the teacher calling in sick, then class getting cancelled. In a time like that, where people say there's a "nasty flu" spreading around, it's hard to wonder why you're the only one not affected by it.
My sister, only four years old, lost the battle first. The funeral homes were shut down, and burying a child, one who hasn't seen the world or been to the mountains or kissed anybody, well, that's enough to break just about anybody. I stayed in my room for a week and I cried, and I cried, and I cried.
Pretty soon I discovered this was happening to everyone else. My chemistry teacher kicked the bucket. Then the girl I got answers from in precalc. And it kept on going until it wasn't shocking.
No, I don't think about it anymore. But with everyone in the house lined up in shallow graves in the back yard, it's quiet around here. Outside is silent, and eerily so. The internet has stopped being fun without anything new. It still works, thank god, but not for long.
Once no one responds online and there isn't anyone left, I think I'll end it. Probably swallow a whole bottle of pills and take a long nap. Maybe grab myself a gun and a few bullets.
I just wish I would've gotten sick at times. No one tells you how the pictures of your cousins and aunts, how seeing your mom's grave and all her things tears you apart once they're all gone. No one helps you heal and recover.
No one can do that if there's no one left. | Twenty-six days. That's all it took. *Twenty-six days.*
I'm sorry, let me start from the top. I haven't seen a survivor in years; talking to a new person takes some getting used to. You see, two years ago, the national Food and Drug Association tested the American grain supply for pathogens. They found a new strain of virus, very similar to the flu virus. Turns out, the flu virus had mutated. It was now resistant to the vaccine.
As you know, grains are the most consumed type of food in America ^([citation needed]). Everyone had a sample of the virus inside them. Everyone.
It didn't take very long for symptoms to start showing. Of course, this wasn't your run-of-the-mill flu, this one was tougher. More infectious, more severe... fatalities sweeped the nation... even my own family was taken...
My son... we watched him die in his racecar bed. His last words... his last words were "I don't want to die." Ironic, isn't it? Ha...
My wife was next to go. She died in her sleep... same day. December 24^th.
I waited for my ending. The final curtain. I longed to meet my family in the afterlife... and I waited... but the end never came. I didn't wither away like everyone else...
The world crumbled before me. Those not affected by the disease torched the infected in mass graves. Hazmat suits became a commodity among the living. But of course, there was no stopping the armageddon. No one was safe. Even those hidden behind their special suits were culled off like the rest. After all, they had eaten the death grains.
Twenty-six days after the first infection, no one was left. Bodies littered the streets, their decomposing flesh slowly burning away. I had survived this long... I couldn't let my family down. For two years, I raided every grocery store and pharmacy I could find, though the smell of rotten corpses killed my appetite. Honestly, even I'm not sure how I got this far.
What? Did I eat the grains? No, of course not. I'm allergic to starch.
*****
What a twist! For more twist endings, visit /r/Picklestasteg00d. | 2016-12-23T18:38:37 | 2016-12-23T17:33:12 | 39 | 14 |
[WP] Your emotions control the weather, you've been in love for 6 sunny months, and now the goverment need it to rain.
[deleted] | "Are you happy, Steve? Are you fucking happy?"
Steve looked at Mark with annoyance and anger, but deep down, he knew Mark was right. "Fuck off, Mark."
"Oh, we're *all* gonna be fucking off in about twenty minutes!"
"I get it! I messed up! What else do you want from me!?"
The two secret agents tasked with saving the world stood in the tsunami for a brief moment, trying to think of a solution to the apocalypse they hastened.
Mark spoke up with an idea, "Should we kill her?"
"What?"
"I mean, she controls the weather, right? If she dies, the weather should go back to normal."
"I guess. It's not like we have any other option."
"You're... what?" A weak voice spoke from one of the bodies on the ground.
"Oh, shit! She's awake! Shoot her! Shoot her!" Steve screamed like a frightened child.
"I can't! I don't have a gun! What happened to yours!?"
"I only had one bullet!"
"Why did you only have one bullet!?"
"So that if she grabbed my gun after I killed her boyfriend, she couldn't shoot us! Why didn't you bring *your* gun!?"
"Because we weren't supposed to be killing anyone on this mission, dumbass!"
"I said, 'You're going *to what!?*'"
"Uh... we're not doing anything now... He's the one who shot your boyfriend. I said we shoulda just thrown a cat in front of your car."
"*You were going to kill me.*"
***KRAK-KAW***
"Hey, listen, sister." Mark spoke with a hint of panic in his voice. "I get that you're pissed and wanna kill us, but the water's gone up half a foot since you woke up. So if you don't calm down, we're *all* either gonna drown or be electrocuted."
"*That's fine with me.*"
***KRAKRAK-KAAAW***
"Alright, but what about all the other people in the city? How many of them need to die for your revenge?"
The woman was silent, but only for a brief moment. The look on her face shifted from rage, to a hint of remorse, then back to rage. She locked eyes with Mark and said, "*As many as it ta-*"
***THUNK***
Mark looked on in horror and shock as the woman's lifeless body laid stuck through the windshield of the oncoming driver. He looked at his partner for confirmation that that had actually just happened, but Steve merely rolled his eyes and said, "Ugh, finally. Jack, what the hell took you so long?"
Steve walked over to the obviously intoxicated driver who was having trouble getting out of the car as the sun reemerged. Jack simply said with slurred words, "You said you *hic* needed a drunk driver to *hic* sell the story!"
"You didn't actually have to be drunk."
"I'm a *hic* method actor!"
"Steve, why in the *hell* did you bring Jack on a field mission?"
"Well, I already figured that killing her would fix the weather, so I told Jack here to run them over and make it look like a drunk driver did it. He was late, so I had to improvise."
"You improvised by shooting her boyfriend?"
"Yeah, uh, because he um..."
"You missed, didn't you?"
"...fuck off, Mark." | Why of course I wanted to help, but at what cost? Selfish of me, I know. The plants were drying out and I was the happiest I had been in years and I wasn't willing to give it up just yet.
6 months is not a long time people! I spent nearly my entire life in this tiny town, being very careful of my emotions so as to not upset the natural balance and it really left no room for romance. My teenage years had been a mess. Like many girls at my high school, the mood swings were constant and so much to our town's dismay, so was the weather. Everyone knew I was responsible, they all thought I was a freak, but did their best to walk on eggshells for fear that I would get angry. I've only ever been angry once in my life and I try not to talk about it. It's pretty much this town's best kept secret, everybody has a disaster story they want to take to their graves I suppose.
So you can imagine that much of my life has been dictated by what other people expect. Summer? Be as happy as possible 24/7. Spring? Time to go into "seasonal depression" so to speak. Fall? That one is surprisingly neutral. Just a total lack of emotions in general. Now winter, that's a tough one. It's sort of a mix between cold shouldering the entire town and feeling lonely. Which I guess would end up going hand in hand. I bet you're wondering how I came to find this all out. Many years of practice.
I have to look back and laugh when people would blame "climate change" to ensure neighbouring towns didn't get suspicious. Surprisingly I have a limited scope of the weather I can control. It's mostly localized to a 10km radius. The wind however, does it own thing regardless of if it runs through my range of control. But as for lightning, thunder, rain, sun, clouds and all that other natural stuff, it does whatever best matches my emotions.
Seeing as I had nearly 100% control over the weather, the government started capitalizing on my gift very early in my life. They wanted an early summer to bring in more tourists? Voila, we were the first town to thaw after the winter. The crops were low this year? No problem, just expand the summer and fall for optimal harvests. After all these years I thought I might be entitled to make some of my own choices. That's when I started dating Derek. He knows exactly what I can do when I'm angry and he's a very calming presence in my life.
As you can tell by our recent predicament in town, I've been too happy if there is such a thing. Six months is a long time, you learn a lot about that person and it can't be so easily thrown away and unlearned. So now I'm faced with this decision; leave Derek and break my own heart and hopefully avoid flooding the town after all the tears I expect to shed, stay with him and try to fake it 'til I make it in terms of sadness and tears or run the risk that he breaks up with me so I get just as sad and the rain comes back.
I would quite frankly burst out laughing if someone even tried to give me the "break ups are hard, but sometimes necessary" speech right now. I knew the day that my stupid gift would ruin my social life would come yet again. I think I'm lucky I even got 6 months if we're being honest. I guess I have to appreciate that this problem is bigger than Derek and I. The phrase "the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few" keeps coming to mind. I think I know what I have to do and unfortunately it can't be a selfish decision. It would be really great if someone could buy me tissues in bulk, I'm sure the entire town will get on that as soon as I make it rain. | 2017-02-19T22:12:03 | 2017-02-19T20:55:04 | 16 | 11 |
[WP] You notice that redditors you downvote never post again. One day, you jokingly downvote your friend's post. He dies in a bizarre accident shortly afterwards
[removed] | The story was good. It was real good. I remember the Writing Prompt was something like, "Your Wife Gives birth to a Babby. No, that is not a mispelling. Write a story about your first day with your Babby." It had taken me a day to write a masterful story and what did the jerks do? Downvoted it and laughed and mocked and laughed and downvoted some more.
Now, I looked at the Facebook Memorial page article detailing the grisly death of my best friend just minutes after I had playfully downvoted his thread. I realized in that moment the awful power destiny had bestowed on me.
It took me a few hours to downvote every single post I could find on /r/writingprompts. That would show them. That would show them all. | "So redditors you downvote never post again?"
"Yeah, man, it's really weird. There was this one troll on /r/AskReddit that I downvoted, he never bothered us again."
"That's just creepy...lol, mate, check out this gif I just posted!"
"...that's just your cat. How many times do I have to tell you, nobody cares about your cat!"
Without thinking, I hit the downvote button.
"Oooooh no, I've just downvoted your post, what's gonna happen to you, you get the curse of the /u/andrephilidor downvote..."
The Skype call cut out mysteriously after I finished my sentence. At first, I thought the problem was on my end, and as I was trying to reconfigure Skype, I got a phone call.
"I'm sorry, but your friend Bill has passed away following a very strange accident. Apparently he was storing some very heavy things in his attic, and now of all times they just broke through his roof and crushed him to death..."
"I'm so sorry..." I replied, barely able to comprehend the magnitude of what had just happened.
I only had one more thing to do.
I went to my reddit account and checked the "downvoted" section.
It was right there that I realised the truth.
**I WAS A MASS MURDERER.** | 2017-03-04T13:14:04 | 2017-03-04T11:54:07 | 211 | 43 |
[WP] You notice that redditors you downvote never post again. One day, you jokingly downvote your friend's post. He dies in a bizarre accident shortly afterwards
[removed] | Dropping the phone out of my hand, I realized that I had gained some sort of unexpected power. Mike was the healthiest of my friends and his sudden heart attack made no sense. With all of the users I’ve downvoted the past few days suddenly disappearing and Mikes unexpected passing, the only solution that I felt was logical was that my reddit was somehow linked to fate.
After the funeral and a few drinks in remembrance, I had trouble sleeping. The anxiety of knowing that I could control when people died wasn’t sitting well with me. Ive never been good at making big decisions, and being in control of who stays and who goes is more like a nightmare. After tossing and turning in a whirlwind of sweaty bedding, I researched the offices of reddit and filled my car with gas.
Upon entering the offices of reddit, the secretary asked me my name and if I had an appointment. I told her my username and she grinned. “Take a seat, they’ll be with you in just a moment.”
Sitting in the waiting room, I pulled out my shattered phone and began to browse through all the regular social media platforms I regularly use. After closing them all out, I hopped on reddit and saw something strange.
“They’re ready for you now,” the secretary said as she put the phone down. “Just down the hall and the third door on the left.
As I entered the room, three women stared up at me. All three of them were equal in beauty. Together it looked as though they were quilting some sort of blanket.
“Hello, dear.” Stated one of the women as she pulled a piece of thread.
“I didn’t think you were supposed to start until June,” stated another one as she measured the piece of thread.
“You look confused, hun,” said the last one as she cut the thread.
“Who are you?” I choked.
“They didn’t tell you?” said one, “We’ve been looking for a new manager, and after carefully examining your past posts, we thought you’d be a suitable candidate.”
“For what?”
“We’re the three fates of reddit,” one chuckled. “We weave together all the threads, and you decide who deserves to live.”
“Why me?”
“Why not you? You seem to be one of the few who doesn’t post about politics, food or porn. So, we know that you are a different breed.”
| I felt it.
Just like all the other times. A strange coldness. The girl had been a real racist. Talking about how we should kill everyone that's different. Once I realized what was going on with my downvotes, I used it regularly. But this day, for some reason, I almost instantly felt a wave of regret. As if I made a mistake. I checked again. And then I saw it. Her username was glowing orange. It was my friend, probably only joking. Or maybe she wasn't. It didn't matter then. My whole body trembled. I tried to upvote again, but suddenly my computer turned off. Turns out there was a power outage. I checked my phone. I had completely forgotten to charge it.
I ran to my friend's house. I ran as fast as I could. She was in. I almost screamed at her: "Give me your phone!". I just grabbed it out of her hand, and opened the browser. Error message. "Reddit's servers are too busy right now, sorry". I wanted to explain it to her, but I somehow couldn't get it out. She just laughed and said: "Oh, those were all coincidences, some people just stopped using their accounts. Note how all those posts you downvoted were already on very negative Karma. Would you still use those accounts after that?". I went calm. She was right. Of course she was. All those people I thought I had killed. They were just not using their accounts anymore. So I left, went back home and laid in bed. It started to get dark and I had no power, so I started to fall asleep. Then I leaped out of my bed. What about the coldness, what about all the strange coincidences? Why did so many things go against me, when I tried to upvote? I ran out into the night. Suddenly I heard a terrible crash. Then I heard a scream. And then I didn't hear anything. I walked on her street and instantly broke into tears. Nobody knew how it happened. One moment she was in her room, the next she was on the ground with a small crowd gathering around her. I ran back home. They had fixed the power outage. I started laughing uncontrollably. Laughing through tears. I turned my computer on, and looked at the post again. Now it was too late to do anything, but I upvoted her post nevertheless and then went on a downvoting spree. Everyone whom I even slightly didn't like got one downvote. Famous people, bad people, I did it to them all. This was my legacy. My footprint on the world. And then I went on to my account. I think I deserve it.
*Please, criticism and corrections to grammar and punctuation are welcome, as I'm not a native speaker of English. Thank you* | 2017-03-04T15:04:08 | 2017-03-04T14:19:26 | 39 | 20 |
[WP]Four years ago, your dog and best friend disappeared. Today, your dog appears at your doorstep. You dog says, "I have been many places and seen many things, human. Its time we had a chat."
"you" dog heh | As I sat and began to listen, Pete "Gilby Clarke" Martin told me wonderful, incredible, unfortunate, and unbelievable things about where he had been since running away a few years before. As our time came to a close, he asked for a drink of water. When I returned from the kitchen, however, he was gone, in his place a giant, steaming turd.
"Goddamit Pete." | I was still finding it hard to comprehend.
One day I'd been a perfectly happy normal(ish) human going about my day to day business. I barely even thought about my dog, Flyer who'd run away four years ago, but that had all changed suddenly when he'd turned up on my doorstep, and HE COULD FUCKING TALK!
Oh yeah, he could fly, cast magic spells, was effectively immortal and had the FUNNIEST one-liners I'd ever heard, human OR animal.
But the best part, the part that got my eyes wide open and my 100% complete and full attention, was now that Flyer the Demigod (Demidog?) could tell me the ultimate secret.
The one question that I'd wondered pretty much all my life.
Why ARE dogs so happy when eating their own shit?
| 2017-03-31T10:59:29 | 2017-03-31T10:06:49 | 45 | 10 |
[WP] You are an assassin. A little girl has just come up to you, handed you all her pocket money and asked you to kill her abusive relative. | Twelve dollars, eighty four cents. It wasn't even enough to cover a decent supper in this city. But she stood there, trembling slightly, holding out her whole lives earnings to me. "How did you even find me, kid?" I ask, taking a cigarette out of it's pack. I was impressed, to be honest. Most adults don't know where to find a hitman, but this girl, maybe seven years old, walked straight here, bold as brass.
"I saw your ad in the paper. I'm good at anagrams and puzzles." She said simply. The surprise must have shown on my face. I did advertise in a paper, selling a bicycle but the clues were there for those who know how to look. "I know it's not a lot of money. But I promise, I'll give you more. I've got a job, and I'll come back every week, forever, if you do it for me."She said, eyes welling slightly. I took a deep puff on my cigarette, blowing the smoke away from her.
"You do know what it is you're asking me, kid? This ain't play time. What I do... it's permanent." I asked, stalling. She nodded.
"You kill people for money. He... he deserves to die. Before he... He deserves it." She said, looking away sharply. Something caught my eye. I grabbed her chin and tilted her head slightly. There was a nasty thumb shaped bruise nestled in her collarbone. Small cuts, barely noticeable under her chin, but I had an eye for detail.
"What did he do to you, kid?"
"Your ad says no questions asked." She protested quietly. I laughed.
"Kid, Twelve dollars upfront doesn't buy you a lot of no questions. What did he do?" I pressed, letting go of her head. A tear dropped.
"He... he comes into my room. At night. He hurts me. He said... he said I couldn't tell anyone or he'll kill me. I... I was hoping he would stop but... Before he the first time, he gave me a rose, told me I was a princess. He gave my sister one this morning. She's five." She finally looked up at me again, hate brimming from those tear swollen eyes. I knew what she meant. It made me sick. I took a deep drag.
"Go home kid. Get your sister, and go to the church on the corner of twelfth and Main. The priest there is a good man. Stay there tonight, he won't mind." I said eventually, taking the money from her hand. She looked up, shocked. Then, the biggest smile I'd seen in a long time crossed her face.
"Thank you!" She yelled, and hugged me. Or my hips at least. I pushed her away.
"It's just business kid. No back payments- too risky to have someone coming here day in, day out. But you owe me. And you'll pay in information. LAter though kid. Once you're old enough to learn something worthwhile. Got it?"
She nodded eagerly, then turned and ran. I looked at the address she'd given me. Her uncle was in for a surprise tonight. | Part II
It hadn’t been easy to have to tell her that it wasn’t something he could do, but it was the tears in her eyes and the hopelessness that seemed to settle upon her that made him change his mind. He let her know that it would take time, maybe even a year or more, because he would have to be very careful about what he needed to do. The little girl had looked like her world was destined to cave in, but he reassured her that she would only have to endure until he could make it right.
He didn’t tell the girl of his preparations; she wasn’t old enough to fully get what he would have explained to her, even if he’d been of a mind to explain it to her. But he was able to acquire all of his needs within a couple of weeks. The part that was most difficult, however, was seeing the little girl suffering, especially believing that maybe her problem would never go away, as day after day and week after week, her ‘Unca Rick’ was still there, and still within easy reach. It pained him to have to wait for so long after making his purchases, for any sort of paper trail that could come back to him to grow cold and become lost in the winds of time, but finally, a bit more than a year later, it was time.
Unca Rick was an avid hunter, and was fairly faithful about it every year. He was also known to take a few brews out with him when he hunted, and he absolutely hated wearing the now insisted-upon day-glow orange hunting vests that the federal government insisted upon for the sake of safety.
And he hadn’t been idle, while waiting for this day; the clothes he’d purchased for just this occasion, he’d washed and rewashed, to make sure that there were no stray fibers that would come loose at a bad moment; the boots he’d gotten, he made sure that the treadmarks had been worn completely off of the bottom of them, to leave no identifying traces. He made sure that the hunting rifle was a common one to hunters the region around, as was the ammunition it used. He even left town a couple of days beforehand, taking a reservation at a beach hotel a few hours in a different direction from where Unca Rick was going to be hunting.
And if that hadn’t been worthy enough, he’d connected with an acquaintance of his from his time in the military, who just happened to have a cabin on the outskirts of that town, and had told him that, anytime he’d wanted a bit of solitude, to come and visit his cabin- and make free use of the jeep, as well.
He’d driven though the darkest part of the night, having made sure with his acquaintance that the jeep had been full of fuel, as well as the emergency five gallon container strapped down in the back end. It was a bit on the dangerous side to have it there, but it was good to have it, just in case it was needed. Thankfully, it hadn’t been needed.
He’d driven to within about ten miles of where it was known that Unca Rick liked to hunt, and he’d trekked that last bit in the false dawn that threatened to reveal him to all and sundry before he could get into place, but he managed it—with perhaps thirty minutes to spare—and had been lucky enough to find the bastard.
And then it was done.
He made sure to collect the spent casing, and to carefully pack away the blanket he’d lain upon, and then quickly, but carefully, left the area.
He did his best to try to tame it, but the faint smile wouldn’t be restrained.
He was looking forward to seeing the sun shine upon that little girl’s face once again.
| 2017-04-04T00:28:27 | 2017-04-03T23:30:21 | 69 | 33 |
[WP] You are an assassin. A little girl has just come up to you, handed you all her pocket money and asked you to kill her abusive relative. | I wonder if that’s what I looked like as a kid. Pretty normal for the most part, but something in this girl's face said she didn't take much shit. Or didn't give a fuck, one of the two. She was a little blank behind the eyes, but she still giggled at my joke so at least I knew she wasn’t completely emotionless.
She handed me an envelope filled with cash and I snickered. “What’d you do, kill somebody?” I asked. That’s what made her laugh. This kid was definitely a sociopath.
“I need you to kill my brother,” she said. She handed me a photograph.
“I know this guy,” I said.
“Yeah you killed his twin two years ago.”
I took a second. Looked at her, looked back at the photograph. Yeah, I knew the guy. He hired me to kill his twin brother. They were young, maybe early twenties. He told me about his sister, said she was the only other one living in the house because they were her guardians. “Okay,” I said, “so your brother hired me to kill your other brother, and now you want to hire me to kill the first brother?”
She nodded. “I followed after you when you did it the first time so I’d know where to find you.”
What the hell? “Wait, you saw me do it?”
She nodded again.
“And you’re not…traumatized…or anything? You’ve got no one left.”
She shrugged. It was so nonchalant. “He deserved it,” she said. “Foster care will be better."
I looked at her doubtfully.
“Trust me,” she said. “Anything will be better.”
I was baffled. And annoyed at myself for being so careless. I fingered through the bills in the envelope. I shrugged. “Okay, I’ll do it.” I said.
--
Nine months later I officially adopted her, but make so mistake (she made sure I knew), it was strictly a business transaction. I promised I’d provide her with a home and food and someone to sign-off on her report cards, and she promised me a cut of the shit-ton of cash her parents left her.
I sometimes wonder if I should feel guilty about training up a young assassin, but damn she’s good. And we couldn’t be more alike than if she was my own kid. She knows she’s different, just like I did, and I think we’re pretty lucky to have found each other.
It makes me laugh a little to realize that she’ll probably kill me some day. But hey, at least I'll have someone to carry on the family business.
| His gaze wondered to the small girl in front of him, scrutinizing every small detail that he could gather from the child - Body language, facial profile, everything.
*Bruise marks . . . both shoulders, some running down her arm's length. God, there's even some in her face. Bloodshot eyes, eye bags . . . sleep deprivation? possibly. Slender frame, her bones are even prodding out from the flesh, does this child even eat?*
His coal red eyes hardened with every bit of his anger being called upon like some devil being summoned. Though the expression on his face remained neutral and passive, he kept his listening face on. It was a marvel how he could still remain a straight face as he looked at the child's malnourished form.
"What do you want kid?" His voice was detached and gravely, unnerving the child as she flinched away at the intonation of his voice.
*There*, he thought, *That ought to scare her away*
He smiled ruefully when she backed away almost sheepishly, her fear was evident though she was masking it with the guise of shyness. The mute mumbling of the child and the meek shaking of her hands were evidence enough. She was smart enough to hide her fears of him, she knew that showing fear wouldn't help her case right now. So, what she presented him with was her head slightly tilted upward to only show those crystal blue eyes of hers, her hands tucked away behind her, and her foot scratching at the ground.
*Appeasing my humanity*, he chuckled inwardly, the word a wildly foreign concept to someone like him. It should be known that the lost of humanity was one of the occupational hazards as an assassin.
She handed him a satchel filled with spare change and loose ends that would've amounted to at least a decent dinner. God know's the kid needs it more than he does but . . .
"Can you please-" She swallowed, her voice entering a hushed state as if she was speaking the taboo. "Can you *please* kill my uncle?"
*This kid is lucky*, he held out a peace of paper, or rather a parchment. An age old adage of the assassins he was affiliated with was to write all contracts in parchment instead of paper, adds authenticity, they say. *With whatever mercy and empathy I have left, I'll see to this being done.*
"Here, kid, you take this"
"Does this mean your-"
"It means a lot of things, most of them having something to do with: Yes, and pack your bags. I'll find a better place for you"
The kids eyes flared with hope, happiness, shock and a whole slue of other emotions that she herself was having a hard time comprehending and containing.
The man smiled.
"Call the second part '*customer service*'. of course that's only if you accept the second part of the contract"
"I DO!" She all but shouted. "Wholeheartedly"
"Then, expect things to change from now on."
"Yes sir! Thank you . . . Thank you so very much"
"You're welcome" | 2017-04-04T05:23:47 | 2017-04-04T03:49:19 | 26 | 19 |
[WP] You're happily going about your day when you vanish in a cloud of smoke. Suddenly, you're standing in a ring of candles. A sorcerer holding a tome looks pleased at your arrival. Turns out Earth is Hell, we're the demons, and you've just been summoned. | *Not again*
One second I was driving down I-95, the next I was in a dungeon inside a glowing satanic circle with lava flowing down the walls. If you are familiar with I-95, this is not a significant downgrade, in fact, depending on the day you might find yourself better off. But see, I was going back home, and being summoned was the last thing I wanted.
Anyways, I tested the glowing lines, I flicked the edge of my spectral prison with my finger and jumped back immediately...into the other wall.
Yeah. It was that kind of day.
I winced and got to my feet. This one was good. The competent ones could make their prisons be like walls, the incompetent ones had prisons made of cardboard, but to have the wall actually provide feedback...there could only be one summoner with such skill.
“H..hey, Lisa.”
Yep. It was that kind of day. I turned to find the furry little thing standing in front of the summoning circle, just past the bounds of the summoning circle. Their fur moved independently as if there was a wind blowing in a dozen directions, but of course we were in a dungeon. They reminded me of little, creepy teddy bears or the Ewoks from Star Wars.
“Jesus Christ, Soggoth, stop fucking summoning me!”
Soggoth cringed, his fur recoiling away from me as if repelled by a magnet. “L...look, I have to keep a reputation alright! Can you imagine if the rest of the people found-”
“Maybe I should just tell everyone else, that the Prime Host-”
“Err...it’s Supreme Host, actually”
“Whatever! Leader, president, dictator, whatever the fuck, is interested in-”
“SHHH!” Soggoth said immediately and the walls of my prison pressed against me for a moment before Soggoth realized what he was doing.
“S...sorry, I didn’t mean to do that,” he said miserably.
I just glared daggers at him, echoes of the pain still dancing across my skin. “I’ll charge you double now.”
Soggoth sighed. “Yeah...I figured.” He conjured two bars of solid gold out of the air. “Really, I don’t get why these rocks are so meaningful in hell,” he said, shaking his head.
“Alright, what is it you want to know today?”
See, humans were summoned for their knowledge, or well, google’s knowledge. The summoner's would ask how to make bombs, learn ancient battle strategies, make inventions. We made sure to never give them too much, lest they no longer need us. But some summoners had entirely other interests. Like Soggoth here, the leader of the entire damn dimension.
“Okay, so what happened in Game of Thrones this time?” he asked, handing me the gold through the circle.
***
(minor edits)
If you enjoyed check out my sub [XcessiveWriting](https://www.reddit.com/r/XcessiveWriting/)
| Mr. Winsel blinked. He was no longer in his clean, orderly office. He was in a dingy cave that smelled of mold and slime and... cave stuff. Candles surrounded him. The soles of his shoes rubbed against a hastily scribbled pentagram on the cave floor. A sorcerer, looking quite proud of himself, grinned cheerfully.
The middle aged, slightly obese, balding HR manager found himself at a loss. A goat was nibbling on a trouser leg. "What's going on?"
"Oh sorry about that. I was going to sacrifice it, but then the damn thing ran away and, well... I did try to catch it, of course, but I'm not exactly the most athletic person in the world, so I just did the ritual without the blood sacrifice."
Mr. Winsel blinked. His lumpy moustache, trimmed in the impression of a very melancholic slug, *twitched*. "And who are you? Where am I?"
"Ah, yes. You are in the overworld, my good demon, and I am the one who summoned you here," he grabbed Mr. Winsel's right shoulder in what he thought was an amiable manner. "We are going to do some great things together! Just you and me! Master and minion!"
"But, I'm not a demon."
"What?", the sorcerer did a double take. "Uh. You are from Hell, right?"
"I'm from Michigan."
"That's somewhere in Hell."
"No."
"Are you... certain?", the sorcerer flipped open a tome. "I am pretty certain I just opened a portal to Hell.
"Apparantly you didn't," Winsel sighed. "Now, please send me back. I have paperwork to do. Interviews to conduct. Not everyone has the luxury to traipse around in their pajamas, performing 'magic tricks'."
"What did you say? Look. I don't know where you come from, but magic is a highly respectable institution here. You can't just-"
Mr. Winsel took a very deep and noisy breath. "I want to see your manager."
"My manager? You mean the headmaster? I... He's not really supposed to know what I'm doing this. This is all very illegal and..."
Winsel grabbed the sorcerer by his flowing black robes. "Listen here, shithead. I don't know what drugs you had to inbibe to make you think that dressing up like a dutch midwife was a good idea, but if you don't stop jerking your goddamned 'magic wand' for five minutes and run to find your fucking manager, I will shit fury all over the pitiable little thing that is your life. ONE FUCKING PHONE CALL. One fucking phone call and I will have my fucking legal team plowing you in your little shitty fucking rear so hard that you'll be shitting out of a fucking mile wide hole in your goddamned fucking stomach! WHERE IS YOUR FUCKING MANAG-"
The sorcerer wiped the spittle off his face with a hankerchief as he stared at where Mr. Winsel had faded away into nothingness, restored to his own reality. He did not know what a 'legal team' was, but surely it was something dark and horrible. It was clear now that he had not summoned a minor demon as he had intended, but some sort of archdaemon of vast cunning and viciousness.
He took a brief look at the tome of ancient sitting on a nearby rock before setting it on fire with a fireball. Summoning demons was, decidedly, not a good idea.
| 2017-05-12T07:53:08 | 2017-05-12T07:46:52 | 6,106 | 1,871 |
[WP] You're happily going about your day when you vanish in a cloud of smoke. Suddenly, you're standing in a ring of candles. A sorcerer holding a tome looks pleased at your arrival. Turns out Earth is Hell, we're the demons, and you've just been summoned. | *Not again*
One second I was driving down I-95, the next I was in a dungeon inside a glowing satanic circle with lava flowing down the walls. If you are familiar with I-95, this is not a significant downgrade, in fact, depending on the day you might find yourself better off. But see, I was going back home, and being summoned was the last thing I wanted.
Anyways, I tested the glowing lines, I flicked the edge of my spectral prison with my finger and jumped back immediately...into the other wall.
Yeah. It was that kind of day.
I winced and got to my feet. This one was good. The competent ones could make their prisons be like walls, the incompetent ones had prisons made of cardboard, but to have the wall actually provide feedback...there could only be one summoner with such skill.
“H..hey, Lisa.”
Yep. It was that kind of day. I turned to find the furry little thing standing in front of the summoning circle, just past the bounds of the summoning circle. Their fur moved independently as if there was a wind blowing in a dozen directions, but of course we were in a dungeon. They reminded me of little, creepy teddy bears or the Ewoks from Star Wars.
“Jesus Christ, Soggoth, stop fucking summoning me!”
Soggoth cringed, his fur recoiling away from me as if repelled by a magnet. “L...look, I have to keep a reputation alright! Can you imagine if the rest of the people found-”
“Maybe I should just tell everyone else, that the Prime Host-”
“Err...it’s Supreme Host, actually”
“Whatever! Leader, president, dictator, whatever the fuck, is interested in-”
“SHHH!” Soggoth said immediately and the walls of my prison pressed against me for a moment before Soggoth realized what he was doing.
“S...sorry, I didn’t mean to do that,” he said miserably.
I just glared daggers at him, echoes of the pain still dancing across my skin. “I’ll charge you double now.”
Soggoth sighed. “Yeah...I figured.” He conjured two bars of solid gold out of the air. “Really, I don’t get why these rocks are so meaningful in hell,” he said, shaking his head.
“Alright, what is it you want to know today?”
See, humans were summoned for their knowledge, or well, google’s knowledge. The summoner's would ask how to make bombs, learn ancient battle strategies, make inventions. We made sure to never give them too much, lest they no longer need us. But some summoners had entirely other interests. Like Soggoth here, the leader of the entire damn dimension.
“Okay, so what happened in Game of Thrones this time?” he asked, handing me the gold through the circle.
***
(minor edits)
If you enjoyed check out my sub [XcessiveWriting](https://www.reddit.com/r/XcessiveWriting/)
| "Well, that's why you don't trust Samoans..." I trailed off as I realize that something is not quite right. I was reasonably sure that I had just been walking down the street, talking to my good buddy Sully on the phone, but I was now decidedly not on a street.
"This isn't a street at all!" I exclaimed loudly, as I noticed the ring of candles surrounding me. They sat at the edges of a hastily drawn pentagram. The small room seemed unnaturally hot, and I wondered if there was some sort of furnace near by. I quickly stopped wondering anything of the sort, however, after I noticed the man in purple robes gazing at me fixedly from the far wall of the room.
I sat there, gaping at him, until I realized that I was still holding my phone.
"Sully? Are you there?" I asked. No response. I pulled the phone off of my ear and looked at it. No bars. The call had ended. I looked back up at the robed man, who was smiling somewhat smugly.
"Who are you?" I demanded, with all the authority I could muster after having been unwillingly apparition-ed. Apparited? I don't know.
"I am the blue wizard of the north, and I hath summoned thee, in order to use your dark talents." the man intoned haughtily.
"What is this, some kind of nerd convention?" I inquired. "How did you get me here? Did you drug me?"
"Erhm- no. I hath...summoned thee," he repeated, somewhat befuddled.
I looked back down at the pentagram, the candles, and was about to berate the man further, when I heard it. The unmistakable sound of something very large, breathing quietly. I looked hastily to me left, where I noticed the open window for the first time.
"What in God's name..." I half whispered. The man flinched slightly, but I was too entranced to notice.
Outside of the window, gazing unperturbed at me like a common house cat, stood the hulking figure of what I could only assume was a living, breathing dragon.
"Ah!" I exclaimed, falling backwards. I tried to scurry away, but an unstoppable force seemed to be pinning me to the ground. I looked down, only to realize that I had reached the edge of the pentagram. I looked back up at the man in terror, and then back at the dragon.
"What are you doing to me?" I demanded frantically.
"Nothing...yet," the man replied, somewhat lackadaisically.
"I can tell that you're faking that lackadaisical-ness!" I shouted back. The man recoiled slightly, and then recovered himself.
"So it's true..." he muttered.
It was at that moment precisely, that I gave up on trying to understand.
"Oh yeah?" I asked, still locking eyes with several tons of dragon.
"Your kind, they can see falsehoods!" the man announced excitedly.
"My kind?" I inquired without looking.
"Homos."
"Excuse me?" I demanded, suddenly turning towards him. "I may have taken a couple looks or two at my fellow man, but who hasn't in this day and age-"
"I'm sorry, do you prefer Sapien?" he asked. "Or human?" he added, in afterthought.
"Oh...yeah, human is good."
___
/r/Periapoapsis | 2017-05-12T07:53:08 | 2017-05-12T07:20:02 | 6,106 | 543 |
[WP] You're happily going about your day when you vanish in a cloud of smoke. Suddenly, you're standing in a ring of candles. A sorcerer holding a tome looks pleased at your arrival. Turns out Earth is Hell, we're the demons, and you've just been summoned. | continued straight from the prompt...
__
Now... Luckily I'm a redditor, and things like being summoned against your will into an unknown world/situation are a common topic so I had thought through this scenario before. Otherwise I would appear quite confused at my situation and not at all in control of the situation.
"Why have you summoned me?" I bellowed in my best impression of pompous and evil.
The sorcerer scrambled back a few steps, "I have summoned you to make a deal."
I was not sure what it was I was supposed to provide, but as this seemed fairly common for magic I hoped it was something I was capable of.
"You know the price?" I asked haughtily.
"Certainly, one talent of gold and my immortal soul."
I pondered this silently, I had only heard of talents in bible stories but I remembered someone saying that was about 75lbs. I unfortunately did not trade in gold on a regular basis and my phone probably couldn't access the internet from wherever this was; but I knew it was something like $1000 an ounce. 16 ounces per lb x 75 lbs... screw it I pulled out my phone.
The mage reacted with alarm, "What infernal device is that? Know that I am protected by the circle!"
I held up a finger to shush him as I opened the calculator app and figured out how much money I stood to make on this deal...whatever it was. I whistled between my teeth as the number stared up at me $1.25 Million.
"Stop! Stop I can't take it!" The magician screamed. "The circle should have protected me!"
I looked back at him dumbly with my face lit softly by my glowing cell phone screen. "Stop...what?"
"That noise! We cannot stand the sound of your chanting and whatever it is you were doing with your voice just now!"
I once again went silent, not knowing that the otherworldly light of my screen was making me look quite demonic at the moment. "You mean... whistling?" I chirpped softly at the end to demonstrate.
"YES!"
Interesting... "So what is the task you have summoned me for?"
The mage stood back upright, "I need you to defeat the army at our doorstep, use your damning tongue to rain down hell and bring madness to the troops."
"You want me to... sing?"
A tentative nod.
"Okay... where is this army?"
The sorcerer pointed to an arrow slit window in the side of the tower. I could see several dozen burly men in various armor standing outside the gates a dozen feet below... this was an army?
"This is an army?" I said intelligently, "Where I come from, an army is usually hundreds if not thousands of men."
"We are aware of your warlike ways and preference for violence but that is not our way. We only wish to drive away the force below as quickly as possible and make them think twice about attacking again."
I looked down at the phone in my hand again and brought up a video I kept on it to send to my friends randomly. I was about to hit play when I turned back to the mage, "You might want to cover your ears."
> We're no strangers to love
>You know the rules and so do I
>A full commitment's what I'm thinking of
>You wouldn't get this from any other guy
>I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling
>Gotta make you understand
>Never gonna give you up
>Never gonna let you down
>Never gonna run around and desert you
>Never gonna make you cry
>Never gonna say goodbye
>Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you...
| "Shit shit shit" I said under my breath as I raced down the sidewalk towards the bus. It was raining and all I could do was hold my unopened umbrella above my head as I ran. It obviously didn't help, so when I finally reached the bus stop panting and ready to fall over I was completely soaked through.
The bus doors were already closing when I reached it, but being desperate I managed to jam my umbrella between the gap in the doors before they closed. The door creaked rather loudly and the driver looked at me as if I were a fucking lunatic. I was still trying to catch my breath and very late so being crazy was the least of my problems.
After a moment the driver grudgingly opened the doors once more. I gave him a small 'thank you' between gasps, but he just glared at me at motioned for me to take my seat.
I sat down next to an elderly man listening to something on an old Walkman. He didn't pay me any attention, but continued to hum what sounded like dream lover.
I pulled off my glasses and began to wipe away the rainwater as I muttered a thanks to whatever god cared enough to receive it for making it on the bus in time. I had only just started my new job and the boss was as stoic as they come, so I really couldn't afford to be late. It hadn't taken long enough to get the damn job, anyway.
Of course I'll probably never be able keep that job now. Not with what happened about five minutes into the bus journey. One minute I was looking out to the passing storefronts with the old man now humming some blues tune and the next I had collapsed onto a hardwood floor in a room where everything was dim and smelled of old books and damp.
Managing to left my head up and put my now bent glasses back on, I saw that I was now in what looked like a attic. There were towers of books everywhere.
Getting myself into a sitting position I noticed I was surrounded by what looked like candles. There were five of them and they were all black and arranged in a circle around me. There were white trails on the floor connecting the candles. It looked like paint and as I inspected the pattern I noticed it formed a star. Frowning I looked up and nearly had a heart attack. There in front of the point of the star stood an old man in what looked like a long and dark robe. He stood perfectly still with a rather heavy looking book held open in front of him in his hands. He was smiling, or rather he was smiling at me. That's when I felt a tendril of fear run up along my spine. I backed away, my heart now begining to beat very quickly as the old man smiled at me. I hit a wall and I couldn't move any further. Looking back I saw there was no wall, but for some reason the area just before the candle was solid and I could not move past it. That's when the old man spoke.
"That's a barrier around you, demon. You cannot move beyond it" he said, his voice deep and grave. He looked pleased with himself. Utterly confused, I gulped and tried to speak.
"Ugh... who..who are you?" I stuttered. I had meant for it to come out more level, but I had so many questions and scenarios running through my head I guess it couldn't be helped.
"I am Lord Alsen Bodyth of the mage council, but you may call me master, demon" he proclaimed, sounding very proud.
I frowned. "De..demon?"
"Yes, but not just any demon. You're my demon" he pointed out, now grinning. That creeped me the fuck out, but all I could do was give a shaky laugh and say
"But... I.. I'm not a... demon" I wasn't entirely sure of what he was talking about, but I didn't liked it.
He gave me an understanding look and a nod "yes, yes, that's what they all say, but believe me demon, demon you are. I would know. I summoned you myself from the hell plain..." He looked down to his book for a moment searching for the name. Then having found it he looked back up and, still smiling, said "... Earth"
| 2017-05-12T10:38:10 | 2017-05-12T07:07:38 | 427 | 193 |
[WP] You're happily going about your day when you vanish in a cloud of smoke. Suddenly, you're standing in a ring of candles. A sorcerer holding a tome looks pleased at your arrival. Turns out Earth is Hell, we're the demons, and you've just been summoned. | "Look man, I don't think you know what you're doing. There's gonna be some serious repercussions for this kind of shit," Tom said as he leaned back in his chair, glowering at a sweaty, porcine man across the table from him.
"I've got to fucking do it, Tom," Greg whimpered out, his lower lip quivering ever so slightly. He held out a closed fist, opened it, and a handful of dice scattered across the table. It was almost like a movie, eyes all fixated on the d20 as it clattered to a stop. A natural 20. The crowd went wild and Tom launched out of his chair, hands pressed to his temples in a gesture of supreme existential horror. Once the din of the table died down, Tom finally unfroze from his statuesque position and slumped back into his chair.
"... No." Greg's face scrunched up into a pout.
"C'mon man, it was a natural 20! I seduced the Lich!"
"No, dude. I'm sick of you constantly fucking up my plans with your bullshit amazing luck. I would rather DIE than see you do what you're doing."
Just as Greg was about to retort, a crack of lightning shook the room around them and Tom exploded in a gout of black smoke. As the rest of the table did a quick check of the contents of their britches, Greg stammered out the one thing he could think to say: "Did he just straight up fucking explode?!"
Unfortunately for Tom, he did not in fact "straight up fucking explode." The next thing he knew, he was falling flat on his ass against a hard stone floor. If Tom, let alone any human being ever, had actually been subject to a demon summoning ritual as he just had, he would know the typical signs and symptoms: candles, maybe a candelabra if his host was fancy, salt circles, and some adorable little munchkin-type people in robes who had just summoned a hellbeast of unimaginable power. As one could expect, Tom was reasonably alarmed and upset. He scrambled back against the wall, knocking over many a tiny chair and smashing a table or two with accidental ease.
"What the fuck just happened?!" The summoners, witnessing the wrath of a dark lord, began to scream. Only one of them did not panic. The short little wrinkled creature gazed solemnly upon him, an open book cradled in one hand. Tom's mouth went slack and eyes wide when he truly perceived the creature's face.
"Oh my god... you've got an adorable little pug face!" he practically squealed. While Tom immediately regretted his reaction, it was no less true. Every single one of them was an adorable little bipedal pug person. In a little hooded robe. One of them even has a cute little walking stick!
"Thomas Kinsey!" the tiny creature belted out in a somewhat squeaky voice, pointing at a bewildered Tom. "By your true name, I bind you to my will!"
"I... I'm sorry, what?" Tom inquired, squinting incredulously. "Bind me? Like I'm some kind of demon or something?" All those years of D&D were finally paying dividends. This seemed to throw the wee sage off balance, now wide-eyed and flipping through the book as quickly as he could, one of his compatriots clinging to his arm and babbling nigh incomprehensibly.
"I told you we shouldn't have mettled with the dark arts! He's going to fry us in sulfur pits and strip the meat from our bones!" Tom couldn't help but look fairly disgusted.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are you on about? I don't even know why I'm here. Or where here even is. Who ARE you?"
The leader of this ragamuffin group stepped forward, looking wary but less terrified of their guest at this point.
"I am Gynklef, my Lord," he said with a proper bow. "We have summoned you here to strike a dark bargain, if you would hear our terms." Tom, once again, glanced at the figure incredulously. This has got to be a dream. Or a stroke. It can't be reality, at the very least.
"... oooookay. Uh... what are your terms?" He crossed his arms over his chest, still fairly unsure of what was actually happening. Maybe he was dead and this was some crazy little fantasy in his head as the last of his neurons sputtered out. An aneurysm would make sense.
"We bring you precious stones and gems to curry favor, in hopes that you will help my people overthrow the cruel oppressors that so long ago usurped the throne from my father's father..." With a gesture, one of the other pug-monks pushed a battered chest up to the periphery of the circle and opened it, revealing a pile of gold nuggets and raw, uncut gems.
"We know your kind has a penchant for that which shines and lies within the earth. It is yours, if you will help us." Tom stood agog, staring at the chest. He'd be set for life if he could take that back with him. There was an emerald as big as his fist just sitting there! He shook himself from his stupor and sighed.
"I mean... what can I do? I'm just one guy," he muttered, scuffing the heel of a shoe against the grimy stone floor.
"Perhaps... but one of your kind is required to operate... THE ARTIFACT." Hushed whispers among the congregation could be heard. Tom arched a single brow.
"The artifact? What is it?"
"An item of incredible power... it has brought down kingdoms before, broken the wills of those who would seek to stand against it, and brought terror to those who even hear its name." The tiny figure gestured to one of his compatriots.
"Bring it here, quickly!"
After a lengthy pause, the sound of wagon wheels could be heard against the floor, and through the door entered what almost appeared to be an upright and ornately decorated coffin on wheels. Grynklef drew an ancient looking key, inset with bone, and released the locks.
"Behold! Terrorscream, Render of Kingdoms!" he bellowed (as well as someone with his lung capacity could) as he flung the door open, revealing...
"... a fucking vacuum," Tom stated flatly. Grynklef nodded solemnly.
"It is a weapon we do not use lightly, but... times are desperate. More of my people die by the day." Tom nodded solemnly for a moment, and stepped from the circle, brushing a hand across the handle of this vacuum that looked like it belonged in the Warhammer universe.
"Okay, little dog dudes... let's topple a kingdom." | Coughing, you wave your hand in front of your face, trying to clear away the smoke. You blink frantically, trying to stop the burning sensation from the smoke in your eyes.
As your vision clears, the creature in front of you becomes more clear. Your first impulse is that it's a sickly child, but the longer you look, the more confused you are.
Yes, the creature in front of you is short, but it's more than that. Its eyes are huge, almost like a Manga come to life. Its skin is greyish, and it's body is thin, impossibly thin. You wonder how it can even stand upright with so little visible muscle mass.
As surprised as you are to see this little thing, you can tell it is terrified. The huge eyes are even wider than they should be. The creature looks like it's bravely fighting the urge to cower in the corner. But, steeling itself, the creature begins to speak.
*"I has summoned you, demon. Do my bidding, and I will you return. Refuse, and you trapped within the circle be forever!"* says the little creature, with a voice like a cartoon mouse. It's clear that English isn't the creature's first language, but it's reasonably fluent.
Wondering about being trapped in the circle, you take a step forward and extend your hand toward the shimmering air over the circle on the ground.
This time, the creature loses its nerve. It does take a few hurried steps back, looking ready to run, but when your hand is stopped by the barrier, some of its confidence returns.
You touch the barrier, wondering if you look like a goofy mime. Although you can't see it, there is clearly something there. Closing your eyes, you feel around. If you didn't know better, you'd swear it was a steel wall, cold to the touch, and absolutely solid.
*"Yes, yes. Trapped! Do what I say and you I will release."* The creature explains.
*"Look, there must be some mistake, I'm not a demon, I'm a human,"* you try to explain.
*"Yes, human. That is what said. Human demon."* The little thing seems to be growing in confidence now that the barrier does seem to be working.
*"No, you don't understand. Demons are from hell. Demons are big and red and scary. I'm just a human,"* you try to reason with the little thing. Something must have gone wrong in the magic it used on you.
*"Yes, hell,"* the creature nods in agreement. *"Suffering? Torture? Inquality?"*
*"Well, yes, I suppose there's some of that, but it's not really _hell_. Forget about that. Look at me. I'm not a demon!"* As you say that, you look at yourself through the eyes of the creature who summoned you. To it, you must appear huge and powerful. Your skin is slightly tanned from that recent trip to Mexico, and while it's not red, even in mid-winter you're not as grey as the little thing in front of you. You may not have horns or a tail, but it's pretty clear you're extremely intimidating, even with ruffled hair and your bad posture.
*"Ok, let's just put that to the side for the moment. You say you summoned me and you can return me? Why did you want me? I don't, I mean... I'm not magical,"* you say, hoping that you won't be trapped forever by a creature who vastly overestimates your abilities
*"You Bahry Lahrsn are,"* the creature says, mangling your name. *"You the legendary demon of sex are."*
*"Wait, what? Demon of sex? I'm no... I mean, I'm not a virgin, but I'm no sex demon,"* you try to explain.
*"No?"* The creature consults the book in front of it, reading from some list. *"Did three times penetrate goddess Anjla on night Prom? Did up-hook Shrly and later same night Surah on eve of New Year? Did digitally Dafnie in vehicle back on trip road car back?"*
You stand there in stunned silence. Somehow your greatest sexual exploits, mild as they are, are written down in a book this creature is reading. You cringe, thinking back about how you'd fooled around with Daphne Samuels in the back seat of a car on a road trip. Her coat had been covering her waist, and you'd... Well, at the time you thought you'd gotten away with it, but later on you learned that *everyone* in the car knew what was going on.
*"Look um... I... How do you know about that?"* You demand, your voice a mix of anger and confusion.
The little creature closes the book and shows you the cover. On it are some glyphs you don't recognize but the creature points to them.
*"Great demons of Eroth,"* it says, pointing to some glyphs. Pointing at the next set of glyphs, it says: *"Volume 6."*
You stand there in silence for a while, thinking. Apparently, you're Barry Larsen, legendary demon of sex, whose exploits are documented in graphic detail in a demon manual. Might as well just accept it.
*"Ok, well. I guess I'm a sex demon. What is it you want?"* You ask.
*"You me help. Lovely Shrmu is! Notice not she does me,"* the creature laments. *"Help me to sex her you will? You must!"*
Over the next little while, you impart your meagre knowledge to the little thing. It treats your words as if they were magic spells, rather than tidbits of advice. Such arcane knowledge as "be confident" and "dress nicely" are treated as dark magic. "Don't be clingy" is treated as a holy commandment.
Within a few hours, you run out of advice. You wonder if it will be enough, but the creature looks as if you'd just revealed the inner workings of a secret cult.
Distracted by its plans, and trying to remember everything you've said, the creature opens up the spellbook.
*"Agreement you fulfilled. Return you to hell now, I will,"* the little thing says, starting to wave its hands in an intricate pattern.
*"Wait, little guy,"* you say. *"Look um... let me know how it goes, ok? You can bring me back here, if you want."*
The creature looks at you and blinks. Perhaps it's wondering if the demon is trying to trick it. Without another word it snaps its hands out.
There's a flash of light, a bang, a puff of smoke, and when it clears you're standing in your living room. That's when you realize the opportunity you missed. If that book had your entire sex life in it, maybe it knew if Megan was ever going to stop playing hard to get. | 2017-05-12T13:13:55 | 2017-05-12T10:01:31 | 37 | 21 |
[WP] You find a genie lamp where the genie offers you unlimited wishes. The catch is that you must answer a mathematical question that continues to get progressively harder for every wish you make. If you answer the question wrong, every wish you made will be reversed with negative consequences. | "So you're saying I can wish for anything, right?"
"Anything. You'll just have to answer a simple math question for each wish."
Bullshit. I could see the bullshit in this Genie's eyes. There was no way it would be this easy.
"Fine. My first wish is that I don't have to answer any math questions you ask me after I make a wish."
"Fuck." | In a sense, getting mathematics right is what determines how everyone else's life goes too, so I am in no way shape or form in a unique position.
Nor am I unable to be emphathized with. (That's something I need to keep reminding myself of these days.)
If I could graph it out for you without feeling too scared, the plot(pun not intended) would show lots of minorly terrible things happening to me directly after the genesis of my genie problem, then some pretty terrible things happening to me in intervals that gradually get longer.
So, I have gone the longest I have ever not getting a math problem wrong, and intend to never get one wrong again. Also, the entire planet has it in its interest to help me not fuck up. Here's why:
My last wish was for world peace. | 2017-06-18T06:29:50 | 2017-06-17T22:34:52 | 63 | 30 |
[WP] You never kill the spiders in your home, you just whisper "today you, tomorrow me" when you set them outside. Now, in your most dire moment, an army of spiders arrives to have your back. | "We are the order of the eight!"
Said the spider, bending to bow,
He removed a tiny hat while prostrate,
"We're the only hope for you now!"
I blinked once, twice, then once more,
As my mouth opened, agast,
A crowd forming of several score,
Then the spiders whispered, "At last!"
"We've waited years for this day to come,"
Spoke the king, tip tapping his feet,
"For while most would squish us under thumb,
You've proved yourself quite sweet!
Our armies come from down below,
To end the human's reign,
While we cleanse the earth, you we owe,
So you alone shall remain!"
More poured from the basement,
And from nooks and crannies forgotten,
From shadows, in cabinets, and in vents,
Were the creepies and crawlies begotton.
"But wait!" I said to the spider king,
As the spiders knights cheered for me,
"For your conquest, I must bring,
A camera to record the history!"
As I fled I passed widow and recluse,
I promised my speedy and swift return,
But instead I tied a swift rope noose,
And I prayed that the earth would burn.
***
Follow me at /u/leoduhvinci for more of my stuff! | Well, it wasn't easy getting to like them. But it's a tangled web we weave.
Back in the day I used to put spiders outside instead of killing them. It was a habit I got used to. I guess as I got older I also turned into more a pacifist... maybe trying to make up for all the nasty things I had done in my youth. I would mumble a little prayer and toss the little bastards off into the night. My castle seemed to be littered with them. Felt like a magnet for the eight-legged. Maybe it was all the torches outside, attracting all sorts of bugs and the like.
I don't know.
All I know is today I heard a crier bell swinging loudly in the early morning. There was talks of a large squadron of Barbarians coming through the foothills, plundering all along the way. I gathered my few men, what several I had, and had them armored. I was to go out with them at Dawn. We started our crusade down to meet them. But as the sun began to rise I noticed a strange blackness still enveloping the countryside. It seemed to almost shudder and breathe. Then at once I saw the Barbarian horde on the distance. They were quick approaching, bearing steel with clenched teeth. All of a sudden, the blackness of the countryside moved with frightening speed, followed by hundreds of thousands of spiders through the castle behind me, and within a minute there were bloodcurdling screams of girlish terror sung into the early morn. The barbarians flee'd as quickly as they had advanced, dropping all weapons and belongings in their stead. I shuddered at the thought, but then remembered my old prayer...
"Today you, Tomorrow me."
Tangled wed indeed! | 2017-08-27T22:12:32 | 2017-08-27T21:38:39 | 443 | 72 |
[WP] A photographer and a sniper meet in a bar. Neither is aware of the other's occupation. They talk about "how to take the perfect shot". | *Making sure the check clears.*
That's always the tricky part, right?
*Timing.*
Of course. And lighting.
*I suppose lighting is important. You've gotta have the right equipment.*
Absolutely. And finding the right subject.
*Ha. Yes. We have to be careful which jobs we take on. I won't do old people anymore. It just makes me sad. There's no surprise in their eyes.*
No surprise in their eyes. I've never thought of it like that. You know what I'll never do again?
*What's that?*
Weddings. Ulgh. Too messy. Too much family drama.
*Never done a wedding myself. So what's your specialty?*
I don't like to say.
*Come on. Hey, I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours. Haha.*
Go on then.
*Gangsters.*
Fascinating.
*They're all in the suburbs now.*
Really? That is an interesting contrast between subject and setting.
*They think they blend in, they think they're invisible. But you can make them stand out if you know what to look for.*
Huh.
*Ok. Now you.*
Ok. Kids.
*KIDS?*
I have a knack for it. And there's always plenty of work.
*I wouldn't have pegged you for kids.*
Oh yeah. Kids. Babies. I've done a bunch of pregnancies.
*No shit?*
Yeah, I like maternity stuff. It's like there's this brief window before life really begins, and I make that moment last forever.
*Jesus. [downs drink] That's tough work. It must pay well.*
I like pregnancies so much, sometimes I'll do them for free.
*YOU KILL PREGNANT WOMEN FOR FREE?*
WHAT!? NO?! I photograph them?! Who said anything about-
*You're a photographer?*
YES! What, you kill people?
*YES!*
And you thought that I-
*I thought were a kid killer, oh my God!*
No. Nononono. Oh, that is so embarrassing. I'm so sorry.
*No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have assumed.*
Oh. That is funny.
*Ha. Yeah. Ahh. You wanna get out of here?*
Sure thing killer.
| Karen's blind date showed up forty minutes late in all leather, smelling of sweat and exhaust. And he carried a motorcycle helmet, all of which she decided was just sexy enough to excuse the lateness.
"You must be Mark," she said, a little too exuberantly. She had felt too rude to order food while waiting, so instead she sipped two glasses of wine and nibbled on bread. She tried to hide her tipsiness.
He looked her over with faintly masked disdain. "Ah. You are Karen, then." He sniffed and sat at the table. "How delightful."
Karen bit her lip, not sure how to read his tone. She knew nothing about Mark. A co-worker she barely knew set them up. She tried not to think of this as a total disaster just yet. "What do you do for work?" she tried.
"Oh," the man said. "I shoot people."
She hesitated for a few seconds, certain she had misheard him. Then, "Oh, you shoot--*oh,* I get it." She laughed, belatedly, and mimed the motion of clicking her telescopic camera. "Me too."
Mark wrinkled his nose. "...right. Usually people aren't so blase when I admit that, Karen."
"Oh, it's not a big deal. It's a totally normal job. For me, getting the perfect shot really comes down to getting them lined up right, you know."
He whistled. "I rarely get them all in one shot."
"Oh, you do singles?" She blundered on, oblivious to his bemused look. "I mostly do weddings. I make a killing on weddings. Can't do anything all summer, but it's worth it. Have you ever shot at a wedding?"
"Uh." He scratched his head, thinking about it. "A couple."
"Personally, my favorite approach is shooting as many as possible, so I know I won't mess it up, you know? If you just hold the trigger down like a hundred times you'll get someone eventually, right?"
Mark looked at her, stunned. "Won't you hit a lot of civilians that way?"
"Oh, I usually don't shoot out around a lot of people. People are uncomfortable enough getting their picture taken."
"You're a *photographer*?" The man threw down his napkin and sighed, "I try to be open about my lifestyle, and I think I finally meet a woman who might be in the same culture as myself. But no." He stood up and slammed his chair back into place. "It turns out you're just a fucking idiot."
He stormed out, leaving Karen alone. She pulled aside the next waiter and asked for some alfredo and another bottle of wine.
***
/r/shoringupfragments | 2017-08-31T11:25:38 | 2017-08-31T07:54:55 | 123 | 47 |
[WP]The US Government finds a Stranger Things-esque alternate dimension full of deadly creatures. Then, they discover Oil there. | For years, alternate Dimensions were something very few were privy to, and even fewer had the displeasure to enter. More often than not they were hellish desert worlds, devoid of life, filled with only harsh winds and endless sand. After the initial excitement of walking through a giant portal to another world had worn off, the DARPA techs that were sent to these realms began to develop a proclivity for complaint. It had become increasingly clear to the Generals in charge that despite the appeal of alternate dimensions on paper, they seemed to have no practical benefit.
This all changed when the portal to Guzzleworld was cracked open on June 4th, 2023. Nine unarmed DARPA techs entered into the lush jungle realm for the first time, and as the portal closed behind them, their cynicism toward their mission left with it. Enormous trees with purple bark towered over the techs, and their branches shook with unseen life hidden in the leaves. Above, a flock of flying creatures too far away to be identified contrasted against the neon green sky. Living species! The techs were breathless. Some were astounded by the groundbreaking scientific discovery, while others were simply relieved to know their doctorates hadn't gone to waste after all.
Everything was immediately documented with photo and video; samples of the flora were put in sealed plastic bags for later evaluation. Soon there was a small pile of bags-full of bioluminescent flowers, purple bark, and grass as sharp as the finest steel. The giddy techs agreed they had to go deeper into this new world.
But this decision was to their detriment. First, they were slashed and bleeding from the never-ending blades of grass. And then a swarm of tiny, winged, bipeds started to naw and scratch at their exo-suits, crawled into the suit openings and attempted to burrow into their skin. Their removal was slow and painful. By this time, the techs were more than ready to return home. They began their slow march back to the portal site, bleeding and scared. This world, despite its Technicolor charm, was new and terrifying, and the Boston natives, so used to their apartments and their air conditioning and their unlimited data plans, were woefully unprepared for its cruel nature. They dreamed of dinner as they made their way back home.
Despite the fact there didn't even appear to be a sun in the sky, it had started to get dark. The neon green sky of day was replaced with a forest green sky of night, and with the change of scenery there came a sudden litany of sound. The forest erupted with hollers and roars from all manner of creatures hidden in the shadows, and the terrified techs quaked in their government issue boots as the darkness itself seemed to close in on them.
Their worst fears turned very real when a disturbingly long, hairy arm dropped down from the canopy, grabbed a tech by her head, crushed it like a grape, and then pulled her corpse back up into the trees. The screams of men and women alike echoed in the jungle as more arms began to pull people away; techs scattered like rats in every direction, desperate to escape, but within minutes the forest was silent.
Only one tech remained, he stumbled his way into a clearing, fight or flight had completely taken over his body. He continued to walk aimlessly, still in shock from the deaths of his coworkers and friends, when he tripped and fell into a creek of black liquid. The stench was enough to get him to regain focus, the fumes burned his eyes and the smell gave him a pounding headache. He crawled back onto the shore, heaving and gagging, but the smell was familiar and almost comforting in this alien world. It was a smell he would know anywhere. It was oil!
Two long, fear-filled days later, the shell-shocked tech was rescued by a search party, and reported back to his superiors. He told them about a dangerous world with flora and fauna human beings weren't even prepared for, but his warning fell on deaf ears. The only part that seemed to catch their attention was when the tech, still shaking and dehydrated, told them that he couldn't find any water in that dimension, there were only rivers, lakes, and oceans of oil. At the end of his report, the Generals shook the man's hand, called him a brave American and a hero, and left the room. One of the Generals had to actively try to keep a smile off his face as he closed the door.
Suddenly, one of the humanity's most valuable, sought after resources was as abundant as water, and America had both the lock and the key.
"Which one of us tells the President, and which one of us readies the garrison?"
"Do you think he'll approve an invasion of an alien land?"
"Of course he will, DARPA owns the portal technology. It's not an invasion if it's on American soil."
| *"It shows up, we have no knowledge of why it’s there. The average human being is not worried about it because they don’t know it exists. We have no idea what it symmetrizes because it only appears to symmetrize itself."* --Eric Weinstein
***
“Are you sure about this, sir?” Milena asked. “We could do more testing, it’s not like–”
“You said it’s safe?” rumbled the big man in the suit, looking over his shoulder at me.
For the last five years, I’ve been working at a place that people most commonly refer to as Area 51. Over the years I’ve come to learn that there is more than one Area 51. All across the country, there are massive underground laboratories based near airports, train stations, and other busy locations where the fluctuations in electricity will go undetected. In these research facilities, the brightest people from all science fields are brought together to conduct top-secret cutting-edge experiments and solve the mysteries of the universe.
“I said it appears to be stable,” I corrected him.
“And you said before that it could be opened?”
“Well, technically it’s not opening it… it’s more like–”
“But it can be done, right?” His voice was tense. "We have a lot resting on this. Big names are invested."
Milena gave me a concerned look.
“I believe we can, sir,” I said quickly, ignoring my colleague.
Through a series of winding corridors and elevators, we arrived at the gate to our department. The general buzzed us through.
The Mathematics and Astrophysics Department (cleverly nicknamed MAD by the employees) was more of a self-sustaining underground city than a science department. It was a rather calm environment compared to the Biology, Weapons, and X Departments.
“All right,” said the general. “Thirty minutes – bring everyone relevant here – let’s open it up.”
***
The air whooshed from the pressure chamber’s walls. Who would’ve thought my little discovery with the F-T Magic Square would lead to a breakthrough into solving the E8. So many dimensions and this was only the first one that we were going to bring into our reality (or rather, bring ours into theirs).
I looked up at all the people in the gallery. Faces I’d never seen before were here. People from Department X. I felt a bead of liquid stress roll down my forehead.
The team gathered around me consisted of a brutal man, some with arms as thick as my thighs, carrying the strangest weapons I’d ever seen. The lights turned green, and the shifting symbols on the screen started to align themselves. The portal shuddered.
I looked at the general who gave me a solemn thumbs-up. I activated it.
At first, an odd flicker surged through in the room, almost like when a cartoon character gets electrocuted. Then the air filled with strange drifting mucus. It looked like ashes, but it was clearly made of living tissue – or tissue that had been living at some point.
A dark, guttural sound streamed from the portal and seemed to follow the veins of liquid that spread from the opening in the wall. Was the sound part of the substance, or did the sound make it? It was impossible to tell.
“Let’s go,” the captain of the team said through the intercom of his suit.
Slowly, we gathered and stepped through the portal together. There were eight of us entering the unknown.
***
I’d thought it absurd when the technicians suggested the steel anchors. Now, as I stepped through into a new dimension it felt like the steel wire was my lifeline. The only thing keeping me connected to our reality.
The ground felt like wet moss under my latex boots. A swampy yellow mist hampered vision and made me clutch my gasmask tighter. The men around me held a tight formation. I looked over at Milena.
The doubt in her face had been replaced with wonder. Her eyes were wide open as a newborn baby’s, searching through the mist for answers. Suddenly her latex encased hand flew up and she pointed at the sky.
Beyond the strange haze of floating mucus something dark and massive loomed in the distance. It was bigger than a skyscraper – bigger than anything I’d ever encountered – the shadow of mountain-sized…*thing*.
“What is that?” Milena said in wonder.
It wasn't shaped like a mountain. Instead, it was thin at the bottom and growing in width, almost like a strange mushroom. It felt like the rumbling guttural sound, like an organic bass horn, seemed to increase in volume the further we stepped into this strange place.
“Set up a perimeter,” said the captain and the men spread out. “This is how far we’ll go. Take your tests and let’s return. Bring the drill.”
“Hold on,” I said a bit nervously. “We can't drill here, we don’t even know what lies underneath this… uh… this stuff,” I said and squished my boot around in the wet quagmire-like ground for emphasis.
“Those are the orders,” the captain said, and one of the big men put down a massive package that he’d been carrying on his back.
***
**[Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/Lilwa_Dexel/comments/79bjkr/the_e8_part_2/)**
r/Lilwa_Dexel for more. | 2017-10-28T09:54:57 | 2017-10-28T06:25:51 | 924 | 363 |
[WP] Satan actually loves humanity. He writes a letter explaining his actions and hopes that someone would one day read it. | He sat slumped on his nightmarish throne. The air saturated with the smell of sulfur. Piercingly loud screams and calls for mercy heard echoing around the room. The heat unbearable. He felt none of it; only resignation and unshakable melancholy.
Dangling from his between his index and middle fingers was a single strip of parchment with words written in delicate calligraphy.
"Dear Humans,
This is not a letter to defend myself, but one to open up my heart. Many years I have remained in silence, ruminating over the villainy piled upon me. Beelzebub, Devil, Father of lies. If only you knew.
Millennia have passed, but i cannot let go the one feeling i want to express to you.
With your brief lives and imperfect smiles, I look up at you with the utmost affection. The only thing I desire is to be able to spend my time with you, to care for you in the best ways i know how. In all my years of observation, I have seen that which humanity loves: warmth, companionship, purpose.
I have given those to you in my underworld paradise. So many of your peers have come to me and have enjoyed the warmth of the fire, songs of happiness pouring from their lips. No longer do they need to shake from the cold, to cower within the walls of hovels. The whole of the underworld is open to them.
To you beautiful beings, what is more important than the camaraderie felt with your fellow man? As an observer, i can only imagine the feeling when you are able to share in the same situation, the same experience. Why else would i seek to bring so many of you down to join your friends? The man above does not grant me free reign over whom i choose, but yet i still create a world worth living in for the select few who join me. A world where you all can live together harmoniously.
Finally, Purpose. Perhaps the most important of the three. As I have seen, the most fulfilling thing possible is to build something and gaze upon the final product in awe. Together, in paradise, you have done that. Look upon the palace with pride! Billions of hands working together in unison to create the most incredible of structures! Tirelessly you worked and amazingly you have endured!
Now, I sit upon my throne wondering if you will ever understand the majesty of the world i have created for you. The efforts i have made.
I fear you will not and will never be able to read this letter. But, i shall remain strong and continue down this selfless path. All for you.
All for love.
Yours eternally,
Lucifer" | My dearest creatures.
Life, as father has created, has always fascinated me. He's created such strong, resilient and intelligent beings. they are truly admirable, I feel out of respect for these creatures, I can't hold back from voicing the opinions that I think are right.
A guiding hand only shelters you from pain and suffering that you need to experience, yet father insists on following his rules to be a "pure" being, like that exists. Life is a sequence of mistakes and corrections, that´s how you learn and grow. Not everyone was being taken in, some creatures voiced their dislike of the idea of a man in the sky and their skepticism towards his own existence was what set my father to purge and restore earth time and time again. Failure to abide by the rules meant a lifetime of suffering.
Resistance from his creatures was to be expected and in retaliation, father was very smart. Father would pretend he had a magical castle in the sky, with everything you ever wanted waiting for you to experience. He also invented a hole in the ground full of fire where undisciplined subjects would go for all eternity to be chopped up and cut to pieces for the rest of time... are you fucking insane?
See how easy it is to manipulate an untried mind? fear is a powerful tool.
He tries to control the same beings he created, if that´s what he intended, why did he have to make them so creative, so passionate and so stubborn? the human brain is an amazing machine, allowing you to experience the world in a way that is unique to the individual, everyone will have a different experience of their life in this world. In a life time you are able to enrich your life with everything that the universe has to offer, the limits are set by you. If there is a meaning to life, it is to live it, but Father didn't like this, he wasn't a fan of a all-you-can-eat-free-for-all existence. he always considered himself a shepherd. a bit vain if you ask me.
I couldn't take it anymore, science, logic and reason where being left behind. The creatures, in their attempt to do good by my father, would squash any attempt at higher learning, of getting closer to the real truth. learned beings and the poor intelligent ones were being burned for unholy associations. "you can't hold their hand forever! they will never leave your side and grow up! you want your child to be better than you!" at the ring of those words I was struck down, the door shut behind me for the rest of eternity.
Ancient denigration about the son he kicked out made its way to the scriptures and this is how we are acquainted. A bit of a shitty image of me has being portrayed through your history if I tell you the truth but I don't take things personally.
I write this letter to remind you what its like to be human, what its like to be free and to forever remind you that the last choice is yours. In all honesty I don't miss it. the control up there was insane. I'm probably rambling at this point, i will be passing this letter down to your subconscious mailbox, see you in the ether.
Trully yours.
Lucifer
edit:words | 2018-01-11T10:38:49 | 2018-01-11T10:35:24 | 29 | 12 |
[WP] It was the first day in history that all babies born were female. Then it was the second, then the third, the fourth.. | "Mom, why can't I try out for the team?"
"Kylo, we've talked about this, it isn't safe."
"Yeah, but --"
"No. It's too dangerous."
With a flip of long, glossy hair, my child stomped away in a huff. I know there is heartbreak and incredible loneliness in that small heart. But my fear is too great, and our secret is too big.
Nine years ago, my sweet baby was born. I had a home birth, as most mothers do. The insemination and pregnancy had all gone according to plan, even the birth was uneventful. But when Kylo was placed into my arms for the first time, something wasn't right. It took me dusting off an yellowed history book to confirm the truth - Kylo is an XY.
There hadn't been one confirmed in one hundred and sixty years. I've heard stories of course. Mothers who swore their child was one, a male, and who invited endless poking and prodding into their homes. Most of those women were eventually diagnosed with post-partum psychosis or the children with birth defects, but it usually came at the cost of the child's life. Males are such a strange phenomenon that the fertility industry scientists can't keep their hands away from the mere chance of discovering one alive.
You read old stories sometimes, with strange pronouns like 'he' and 'she' and other designations in language for gender. A distinction between the two no longer exists. Society has been entirely XX for centuries, until Kylo.
I don't know how long I can protect my angel. But for now, we're safe. | Men were an outdated concept.
They called me the final child. The last desperate hope of a civilization which fell into total collapse; in a time before my years. I had the hope of the world on my shoulders, and so my birth brought not joy – but disappointment.
My mother told me about men, even though she had not seen one herself. My grandmother, who passed before my twelfth, told me a whole lot more.
It was a day like any other, on that day which men stopped being born. She said that it all started with no warning, at first it was thought of as a coincidence – or an error in statistics.
She told me of their desperation and fear, of their realization that humanity as a whole was finally doomed to its inevitable extinction.
There are no expectations for me, well, for us, anymore. People continued to live, but nobody ever looked alive.
As I grew up, there were other children, a few years older than me, free from the troubles of the world.
But soon we came to realize the truth of what we were, the last hopes. The last failures. The last humans.
Those children blossomed into jaded adults and corpses alike.
My Mother died last week. They didn't tell me how, but I knew.
There was a time where I used to cry when someone took their own life, now soon it just became like any other week. People had grown tired of looking forward to tomorrow, with prospects bleaker than the dreary winter – which hung eternally over our heads.
It mattered not what I, or anyone did. There were days that I considered joining the dearly departed, but I could not bring myself to do such a thing. And so I set out, in search of answers, of knowledge. Not even to solve the crisis imparted upon the world, but from a curiosity about what it was like in the days which men roamed the earth.
With no hopes for my success or safety, I left the city in which I was born, at nineteen years, the youngest human in existence.
And I truly hoped I would not be the last.
* * *
^More ^of ^my ^writing ^at ^/r/khaarus | 2018-04-07T10:02:46 | 2018-04-07T09:35:44 | 181 | 40 |
[WP] 911 calls you.
[deleted] | Jonas's phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen, then did a double-take when he saw the three-digit phone number displayed there.
He looked around his apartment, peering toward his bedroom, then glancing at the front door. He strained his ears, but heard nothing but the vibrations of his cell. He hit the button to answer and brought the handset to his ear.
> 911, here's your emergency...
Jonas frowned. "I'm...sorry?"
> This is 911, we're calling you about your emergency?
"Um...what emergency?"
The sigh from the other end of the line was nearly brimming with exasperation.
> *Your* emergency, sir.
"I...don't have...is this a prank?" There was a pause during which Jonas heard the shuffling of pages.
> You are Jonas Peters?
"...yes."
> Alright, well this is a courtesy call regarding your emergency.
"I'm afraid I don't...why do I have an emergency?"
> Sir, I have to warn you, if you continue to raise your voice like that, it's just going to make things worse.
"I'm NOT..." Jonas had risen to his feet but paused, then cleared his throat. "I'm *not* raising my voice," he said, forcing himself to control his volume.
> As I mentioned before, this is just a call to let you know that your emergency is on its way.
"Alright, I'll bite - what is my emergency?"
> It should be stated clearly on the contract you signed when you made the agreement.
"What are you on, lady? What contract?"
> This is your last warning to not raise your voice or use that belligerent tone. You will be unable to --
"Listen, please cancel my agreement or whatever, I don't want this anymore, and remove me from your system. Goodbye."
Jonas slipped his phone into his pocket and paced back and forth in front of his couch. *What the fuck was that, anyway? Who does that? And how did they make it look like they were calling from 911?*
He walked into the kitchen, crossing to the refrigerator, and opened it. He was crouching, checking to see if he had any IPAs left, when the it reached him - the noise of splintering wood, followed moments later by gunshots.
Jonas yanked the phone out of his pocket and forced his trembling fingers to input the numbers, then hit **CALL**.
The only response he received was a recording: *We're sorry, that service is no longer available to you. Goodbye!*
The sound of footsteps in the living room grew nearer.
***
/r/ShadowsofClouds | I stumble out of the bar, disoriented and bruised. I didn't get in any fights. I didn't have any drinks. It's just been a long night, I'm tired, and I need a ride home. I walk to the nearest payphone to call a cab.
Before I can so much as touch the darned thing, it rings. Huh. Weird. I pick it up.
"Hello."
"This is 911. We're sending an ambulance. What's the address of your location?"
"What?" Why they're calling me now is beyond me. "Jeez, what's the big idea? I don't need no ambulance."
"You're injured, are you not?"
"Well, yeah, but--"
"You came out of a bar, injured? No?"
"Yes, but you see--"
"We're also sending the police so you can help them identify your attacker."
"There *was* no attacker!" I yell, exasperated. "No one attacked me! I'm just a clumsy dumbass!"
"Please wait for the--"
"Oh, shut up!" I slam down the phone. Grumbling about the stupid interventionist policies of the new government, I call my cab.
***
"'Scuse me, sir..."
"Yeah, driver?" We're about halfway to my house when I stir from my sleep.
"Do you have any idea why we're being pulled over?"
I look behind me and roll my eyes. Six ambulances, all flashing bright purple lights and ringing the most annoying sirens I've ever heard in all my twenty years of defying the law for the sake of personal peace, all cruising down the otherwise deserted, dimly lit freeway, hot on the taxicab's trail.
"God fucking damn it... Driver, pull over."
"DRIVER, PULL OVER!" shouts an EMT through a megaphone.
"I kinda got the memo," the driver says boredly, as if this happens to him a lot. Judging by the current shit state of the authorities lately, I'd guess it does.
"PASSENGER, GET OUT OF THE CAB. HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEAD. NO SUDDEN MOVES."
I get out and obey the EMT's orders.
"YOU ARE UNDER ARREST FOR TREASON BY WAY OF REFUSING MANDATED GOVERNMENT ASSISTANCE."
"Fuck you," I snap. I've just about had it up to here with this bullshit.
"SHUT UP! DON'T MAKE US RESORT TO EXTREME MEASURES!"
"Ever since we elected that damn scumbag, no one can stay the fuck out of anyone's business..."
I'm about to go on a big rant about how much this shit sucks, but then someone shoots a syringe gun at my forearm.
Well, I guess it just... Ain't my lucky day...yyyy...
***
News traveled fast, and the riots began the next morning.
The controversy among the citizens in the wake of his death was too great, and the government quickly succumbed to the pressure. Soon after, 911 was promptly abolished.
The end.
***
Update: Now has a sequel [here.](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/91kxli/wp_write_a_story_about_an_ambulance_driver_who/e2yucia/) | 2018-07-23T15:55:40 | 2018-07-23T15:45:14 | 22 | 11 |
[WP] You've eaten your Chinese takeout and open your fortune cookie. It says, "If you kill a killer, the number of killers in the world stays the same." That gives you an idea: you'll kill two of them. | I looked at the tiny piece of paper thoughtfully. “If you kill a killer, the number of killers in the world stays the same.” Huh. Never thought about it like that. But then again what I was doing was never about lowering the amount of killers, was it. I looked at the man bound and gagged to a chair in front of me. Chad Brown the man who killed my wife during a mugging. The man who ruined my life. I looked thoughtfully at the pistol in my hand for a moment unsure of what I should do after all this. But then a thought occurred to me. The number of killers would only stay the same if you killed only one. So if I killed two killers there’s less killers in the world. So with my plans for the future set up I raised my pistol towards Chad and pulled the trigger. It was easier than I thought it would be. So now that one killer has died and another taken his place it was time to lower the numbers. I raised my pistol towards my head and pulled the trigger one last time.
Now there’s two less killers in the world.
Edit. Thanks so much for all the upvotes and the silver! This is my second time doing something like this. God bless all of you! | The message made sense. "If you kill a killer, the number of killers in the world stays the same." But what if, I thought to myself, I killed two killers? This thought kept occurring to me as the days went on and one day I just decided - it would make the world a better place.
The news gave me the idea for my first victim; a middle aged man allegedly shot his wife and son before running away. I had to find him, I had to kill him. So I researched the man. He was nearly 6 feet tall and bald, often wore flannel. His teeth were yellowing and he had a tattoo of his now deceased wife's name on his forearm. I would recognize him anywhere.
I hopped into the car and traveled to the neighborhood he was last seen in. I circled the block a few times trying to find the right man. There was one bald man I found, but he was far too short to be the man I was looking for. A cop car drove past me at one point, I just smiled and waved. Nothing was going to stop me. If I kill killers, the world will be a better place.
It was in the next block that I found him. At almost 6 feet he stood on the side of the road about to cross. I could see the tattoo on his arm. A rush of adrenaline hit me instantly and my foot pressed firmly on the gas as the man started to cross the road.
*Thud*
My bonnet dented, the windscreen cracked and the man fell to the ground unconscious. I hopped out of the car to get a good look at his face, but there was only one thing I actually looked at- his blonde hair.
There was one more killer in the world. | 2019-01-30T17:21:45 | 2019-01-30T16:45:08 | 3,487 | 605 |
[WP] An immortal lectures a new immortal on why eternity is a curse. The “new immortal” is actually far older than his lecturer, yet continues to live life to the fullest. | “Have you seen it, boy?”
“Have I seen what, Sir?”
“Have you seen the pain on the faces of your loved ones as they succumb to their mortal fates?”
“I have, Sir.”
“And have you heard the scream of the sirens as another needless war is declared?”
“I have, Sir.”
“And have you felt the colossal thud of two continents becoming one?”
I paused. “I have, Sir.”
The old man stared at me, his eyes narrowing onto mine. He stroked his long, greying beard, assessing me as though I were a piece of art. At last, he spoke. “You’ve seen the conception of mountains and seas, boy?”
“I have, Sir. I have seen everything.”
The man laughed at me, a wheezy and exasperated hiss. He leaned close, close enough that I could feel the warmth of his ancient breath condense on my cheek. “You haven’t seen shit, boy. You don’t wear the burden of eternal life. The endlessness hasn’t etched itself into your soul, yet. But it will, boy. It will.” He leant back, a cynical satisfaction settling in his eyes.
He was an old man. Younger than me, but an old man still. The pain of immortality, as he described it, *had* etched itself into his soul, and it had done so with frightening conspicuousness. His body creaked with every movement. His white hair wisped off his balding scalp like smoke from a dying fire. His eyes carried the sorrow of a thousand lives, the pupils a bottomless pit of everlasting despair. He was a lighthouse, warning me away from the jagged rocks of anguish and into the deep, frothy seas of joy. He was death, still living.
I stood, the spring in my joints more oiled than ever. “This was not what I had hoped you’d become,” I said. He laughed again, still perched on his stool, the notion of rising to his feet apparently an unnecessary chore for the likes of me.
“You talk like you know me, boy. You don’t know me. You don’t know anything!”
“I was there to see you come into this world, Angus. And, at the rate you’re going, I’ll be there to see you leave it too.”
The laughing stopped. Angus looked up at me, his face transitioning from amusement to sorrowful fear. “Who was my mother?” he asked, but I knew, deep down, that he had already surmised who I was.
“Your mother was not given a name, but we called her Marjorie.” He continued to stare. “Our father was called Bennett. He was kind and he provided. When the Ice came, they died clutching each other.”
A solitary tear rolled down his cheek. “Brother,” he whispered.
“Brother,” I replied. “I’m here to save you from yourself.”
***
For writing of this ilk, you may enjoy my subreddit - r/storiesarefunright | The being's warbling voice sounds like boulders passed through a metal blender. It is ancient and sluggish, it's huge limbs oozing pungent black liquid which pool on to the surface of the giant planet below. Long ago the liquid formed oceans that gave way to a vibrant and astonishing variety of life, which now cries and caws in its wake as it wonders along the contours of the globe.
I have been following it for some time, just now coming to understand the nuance of its language. I twist the glider, dodging through gaps in the moss that grows from its shoulders and cascades downwards in giant flowing rivulets that end up trailing along the ground, pieces breaking off here and there. Small creatures nest in the giant cracks and crevices that line the great beast's rock-like skin, coming and going as they please.
"Every cycle is the same," the being booms, so large that the top of its head brushes up against the planet's stratosphere. The sound of its voice echos for hundreds of miles, a mighty reverberation that sends flocks of bird-like creatures scattering into the air.
I watch as its foreleg lifts upwards with a mighty creaking, moss and dead skin crumbling away as it rises and rises to finally fall for a mile before it hits the ground.
I ease up on the glider and send it into a nosedive, following the foot as it comes down. It looks like a giant cliff descending from the air, a yawning black shadow below swallows the surface of the planet. I tweak my muscles slightly and the glider dives past the descending foot and sweeps along the empty moss plane in front of the impact zone, holding at a level barely four feet above the ground.
I time it perfectly. The foot comes down with a thunderous impact, sending outward an explosive blast of air that slams into the back of my glider and launches me upwards again, the rush of air sounding and feeling like an explosion that cannons off my ear drums.
I can't help but whoop for joy. "It doesn't have to be," I say through gritted teeth, straining to be heard above the roar. "You can inject each cycle with flavor. You can take on a new challenge each day, each year, each decade!"
My voice projects through an audio-bot that hovers in a fixed position near one of the being's ears, a huge, gaping cavern that corkscrews down into the side of its massive rock head.
The Rockbeast warbles again, sounding like marble being ground into dust. "Each cycle is ultimately the same. The planet circles the sun as I circle this planet." A long pause ensues in which I ride the up-swells, the beast's huge bulk constantly pushing air forwards, its never-ending progression causing storms on the other side of the planet. "This has always been so," it says, after a time.
I stare down at the curvature of a planet which is six times the size of Earth, then turn the glider to get a better look at the barren rock shelf that lies on the top of the beast's head, too high for anything to grow or live.
I feel a rush of exhilaration. My glider gains speed as it plummets back down to the surface. "You're wrong," I say. My glider shoots towards impact area of the next step, watching the Rockbeast's foot rise a mile into the sky, the ground below descending into darkness.
"Mind over matter!" I yell, the glider scything through the wind, just barely ahead of the foot as it comes creaking down. | 2019-01-31T13:19:16 | 2019-01-31T13:08:15 | 555 | 49 |
[WP] Medieval times, a woman is accused by villagers of being a witch and she is put in a cage to drown, after 3 minutes she is not dead so they burn her at the stake but she survives that too, villagers now realize they finally found a real witch and don’t know what to do next... | The hall bustled with rabbling as the Mayor, sitting on a fantastic seat at the head of the room, addressed the crowd.
“So, as proud god fearing folk, we now have to deal with the unfortunate fact that we have slaughtered at least 150 non-witches prior to unearthing this real witch.”
“234, sir,” said an old dishevelled man sitting at his side, rifling through a battered book.
“Christ, 234,” said the Mayor, slumping in to his chair.
A man stood from his seat situated at the front of the hall, clutching a hat to his chest, “Mayor, I think you’re being unfair. The witch I suspected and had killed gave me good reason for accusation.”
“How so?” asked the Mayor.
“She counted all the way up to 9, sir.”
“9?! Kill her again!” came a shout from the back of the room.
“Who said that?” asked the Mayor. “And how the fuck are we going to kill her again?”
The room was silent.
“Did we really suspect a woman of being a witch for counting to 9?” said the Mayor, looking at his Scribe who was again flicking through the book on his lap.
“We did indeed, Sir, but to be fair 9 is a remarkably high number.”
“How is 9 a remarkably high number? You counted to 234 before,” said the Mayor.
“Kill him again!”
“That’s not .. who is shouting that?”
The door to the hall burst open, a man entered holding a ball of black fur in front of him. “Sir, I’ve found the witches’ talking cat.”
“That’s a dog,” replied the Mayor.
“Only a witch would know the difference between a dog and a cat,” bellowed a voice from the crowd.
“This is what we have to stop. We can’t just go around accusing everyone of being a witch because they can differentiate between common animals or count,” pleaded the Mayor.
“We must test the cat to see if it truly is a dog,” shouted another from the crowd. “Ask it to count to 9.”
The dog barked.
“What number was that? shouted the Scribe.
“It sounded like 7 to me,” answered back a voice from the crowd.
“So, it is not a witch,” said the Scribe, opening his book to write down the findings. “Or is it?”
The room gasped.
“No,” said the Mayor, standing to address the room. “No it’s not. It’s a fucking dog. What you all must realise is that history is going to remember us not as the people who discovered the first witch but as the idiots who ignorantly and ruthlessly massacred 234 innocent women then asked a dog to count to 9.”
The scribe slammed his book shut, “What if .. What if we were to do something so nice for this witch that the sins of our past were wiped out in the face of God almighty?”
The room looked on towards the Mayor waiting for his reaction.
“That could work,” said the Mayor. “Maybe we could send the witch to some place in which she could live out the rest of her life in true glory, mighty feasts, and being able to count to 9 whenever she wants.”
“Seven,” shouted the dog.
“Heaven! We shall deliver the witch to heaven itself - a brilliant idea,” said the Mayor. “Men, prepare the trebuchet.”
****
I write shitty, silly stories on /r/BillMurrayMovies. Feel free to come along, not laugh at any of them and leave some judgement. | Considering how much people around here went in for that sort of thing there were surprisingly few official ways to kill a witch. Generally you just picked the one most suitable to your readily available equipment and had at before moving on with the rest of your life. The preacher had never heard of anyone surviving one of the ordeals, let alone all of them.
"So we were just wondering if you had new any ones father?"
"New ones?" asked the preacher shakily as he looked up from the the very thorough documentation this little town's mayor had handed him.
"New ways of killing witches, father. Only Davey, the butcher's boy, visited the city about a year ago and said they had impaled some witches in the town square. We hadn't heard of that one before and he said it worked a treat on their witches so we woke Margret up and asked if we could try it. She said it's been years since a man woke her up to ask that and we said no not like that and then she winked at poor Lambert, who's never had much luck with the ladies what with his tooth, and said maybe if we've got time we can try it both ways. Anyway it didn't work so we let her go again but since you're the first man from up that way we've had down here in a while we were wandering if you boys had thought up anything better than impaling?" the mayor smiled happily at his story then quickly added, "if it's no bother father".
The preacher had barely heard a word but had instead returned to the paper work. It was titled "The execution of Margret Thaxley" in very neat calligraphy. The only other writing on the front of the document were the words "vol 1" below the title in charcoal. He put it down.
"You let her go?" he asked slowly.
"Yes father. She's got a cottage just outside town, see, and we've only got three cells. Also the sergeant says she snores something fierce."
"Why not drive her out, burn the cottage to the ground? God lord man there is a witch on your door step spreading who knows what corruption into the soil and cavorting with the unspeakable from beyond while you do nothing."
"Nothing?" exclaimed the Mayor, indignantly rising to his feet. The preacher noticed that at some point he had also stood. There was cold sweat on the back of his neck. "Not nothing father. Read the paper work. Anyway we did burn the cottage down. She just made us put it back up. And she's not as bad as all that. We'd be a lot busier round here if not for the tinctures she makes for the young ladies. We put the work in father but life must go on."
The preacher laid his hand upon his book. It felt hot to his touch. As he began to mutter the words he lifted it from his belt. The Mayor opened his mouth to speak but before he could blue fire began to ark between the pages and the preacher's robe snapped back in a gale that touched only him. From the crease of the book emerged a hilt. With his free hand the preacher reached for it and as his skin touched the grip that same blue fire writhed up his arm, flaying the cloth from his body and leaving his arm marked not by wounds but immediate scars. Grimacing in pain the preacher pulled and the blade emerged, its edge shimmering like quicksilver in the light of its own fire. With a gasp the preacher dropped the book and the last of the blue flames earthed themselves through him making him stagger. The Mayor had not yet closed his mouth. When the preacher looked at him he looked away. The blue fire danced in the preacher's eyes where pupils should be.
"I think it's about time I meet this Margret"
...
The Mayor licked his quill. He wasn't sure how to start and it had been a rather spectacular day. He looked across the desk at his guest and put down the quill. Writing could wait for tomorrow.
"Okay father," he said as politely as he could "Let's try this: one croak for yes and two for no" | 2019-02-12T03:47:11 | 2019-02-12T03:22:18 | 421 | 276 |
[WP]: Your little crime family ran a restaurant as a money laundering front. However, the place got so popular, you decided to quit the crime and just run the place straight. Now, a new crime organisation is trying to inch into town, on your turf. It's time to get back to business. | “I’m sorry, come again?” Asked Don, a waiter at Sal’s Ristorante.
“I’m going to make this so simple even a college dropout waiter like yourself will understand,” said the man in front of him, “I want whatever ya got in the register, upfront. On top of that, I’ll be back every week to collect a cut of your profits on behalf of the Russo family. Call it... *insurance.*”
The man opened up his worn black suit jacket to reveal a Glock 19.
“Oh, I understand now sir. If you’d like to do business, please allow me to get my father, so you can further discuss your insurance policy” Don replied.
“That’s a good boy,” he said.
“Hey Pa,” He turned his head and yelled back to the kitchen, “we got a strunz here trying to collect on some *insurance.*
“Ah maronn!” Boomed a deep voice from the kitchen.
Sal emerged, meat cleaver still in hand, apron spattered with fresh cow blood. He removed his hairnet and brushed back his slick black hair, wiped his hands on his apron, and turned to shake the mans hand.
“Hey there, Sal Falcone, how ya doing?” He said.
The man’s smile disappeared and his face went white as a ghost within a matter of seconds.
“Get outta here Don I’ll deal with this,” Said Sal, “but before you go, hey pal, give my boy a little tip for his assistance.”
The suited man stared blankly for a second before pulling out his wallet and retrieving a $5 bill and handing it to the waiter.
Sal took the wallet, emptied it’s contents of $500 cash, and gave it to his son. He returned the wallet, leaving the man with $5 and a confused, defeated look on his face.
“Get back to work,” said Sal.
“Gotcha dad, thanks for the tip sir,” Don nodded to the man, going back to the tables.
Sal turned to the man, who looked as if he was literally trembling.
“You know who I am,” said Sal, more a statement than a question.
“Vin,” he replied, “Jesus I thought they threw you in the slammer.”
Sal shrugged.
“I go by Sal now, changed my name, set up a little place here, pay my taxes,” He said, “business is good.”
Sal pointed to the mans suit jacket.
“That’s a dangerous piece of equipment you got there,” the smile he had maintained until this point disappeared, replaced by an ominous poker face, “we wouldn’t want anybody getting hurt, would we?”
Sal reached over, opened the mans suit jacket, pulled out the gun and pocketed it.
“I’m sorry Vin, I didn’t know this was your gig,” he said.
“No problem, but here’s what’s gonna happen,” he said, putting his arm around the mans shoulders and bringing him close, “you’re gonna leave all the establishments between here and 73rd off your little shit list, all family run, bad for business if any one of them is hit, catch my drift?”
“Yes sir,” replied the Man.
“Good, that makes me happy,” said Sal, “Now which one of my lazy good for nothin’ cousins do you work for, Leo? Carlo?”
“Leo Russo, sir,” said the man.
“Ah, I didn’t know Leo was back in New York, Tell him I say hi, uh...” he trailed off.
“Jim sir, my name is Jim,” said Jim.
“Tell him I say hi Jim, and tell him I expect his first payment by the end of the month, delivered to my bakery on 188th,” said Sal.
“Excuse me sir?” Said Jim.
“Call it *insurance*, Jim,” said Sal, “and tell Leo... Tell him I’m coming out of retirement. Tell em Vin Russo’s back.” | A stone's throw away from the Stadio San Paolo in Napoli, Don Giovinco stretched himself lazily on his seat. Behind him was his fabled Citadella Pizzeria, where marinara was thicker than blood and the dough softer than summer clouds.
About five years ago, you wouldn't have seen such a rare sight. Don Giovinco was a man no one wanted to mess with in Napoli. There were rumors... of his legend. One day, the locals say, Don Giovinco was having a caffe at a local coffee shop when he saw a hoodlum steal the tip jar. Don Gio caught him in the act; and made him swallow every Lira in the jar, in front of the whole cafe. Of course, this is one of the less grisly ones. At the Citadella Pizerria, grisly stories often lead to loss of appetite, so he forbids me from telling you any. I can't disobey that order, for obvious reasons. God forbid I ever find out what it is to swallow loose change.
Anyway, from believing that vendetta is a dish best served cold, Don Gio now believes that spaghetti is a dish best served hot. He runs the pizzeria as smoothly as his syndicate - little tolerance for error and high rewards for effort. The smell of fear in Napoli has now been replaced by a heavenly aroma of hickory wood smoke drifting in from the pizza oven. The way to a man's heart is through his belly, and clearly Don Gio has the stomach for that.
All was bene until the Montellas came to town. Tuxedo wearing, Uzi wielding chimpanzees who can't tell honor from bloodlust. On the first day, one of the Capones wasn't served his drinks fast enough at the local bar. The Montellas took no apologies, they straight up burned the cafe, with the owner in it. These are the idiots that give us mafiosos a bad name. But you know what they say about a pizzeria; when business is as good, everybody wants a slice of the action.
Vicenzo Montella, the head of the family, a smug, oily-haired man with a permanent sneer carved into his face, walked in yesterday. Don Giovinco was right there, enjoying a cigar and some red wine. I know so, because I was right next to him.
"Don Giovinco," said Vicenzo coolly, breaking all protocol and taking a seat without asking for the Don's permission.
"Call me Giovinco, I am no longer a Don," the Don replied, as calm as the sea on a windless day. "What are you doing here Vicenzo?"
"Oh, I should be asking what *you* are doing!" laughed Vicenzo. "What is this shit Don Gio? A pizza place?! Look at yourself! When I saw you last you struck fear in every Genoan soldier I brought with me in the last war. Now, you're decadent. Fat. Looks like if I shot you, you will bleed olive oil!"
"Gianpiero!" shouted Don Gio. A thin, aging man quickly came rushing into the room, carrying a plate of Margherita pizza. "Before blood is spilt, let us break bread. Try this. Mozzarella from Sicily, hand picked tomatoes and basil from my own garden."
Vicenzo narrowed his eyes. "You first, Don Gio. I don't trust you."
Don Gio casually tore a slice from the pizza and took a gargantuan bite. He chewed on it happily, before licking his fingers.
Finding his suspicions satisfactorily quelled, Vicenzo picked a piece and took a bite. Then he froze; his eyes wide from a memory in the past, looking like Antoine Ego from Ratatouille.
"Santa Maria!" shrieked Vicenzo. "I would kill for this! BELLISSIMO!"
"But you don't have to kill for this, Vicenzo," said Don Giovinco, with a smile on his face. "I have a business proposal for you, so you can join us in this venture. Trust me, I'm going to make you an offer you cannot refuse."
r/whiteshadowthebook | 2019-04-17T10:26:25 | 2019-04-17T09:33:55 | 71 | 30 |
[WP] A girl on the bus has been staring at you for the last 5 stops. Finally she speaks, "I see you're one, too. You're the first one I've met who wasn't trying to kill me." | "What did you say?" I asked.
The woman sitting across from me was way too beautiful to be talking to me. Sure, she'd been staring at me for at least five stops, but the bus wasn't too crowded so what else was she going to look at?
"I said it's nice to finally meet one that isn't trying to kill me." She moved to my side and held out her hand. "I'm Jin," she said.
I shook her hand. "Um...meet one what?"
She fixed her dark eyes on me. I couldn't tell if the eyes made her face look so pale, or if it was the other way around. It didn't matter. Porcelain had nothing on this woman's complexion. As for the rest of her...let's just say I hadn't put my back pack in my lap because it was convenient.
"You mean you don't know?" she squealed. "That's amazing! And, it explains why you haven't attacked me."
I tried to wrap my mind around her words. "You said your name was Jen? Is that short for Jennifer?"
She frowned. "No," she said, drawing out the word. "Everyone always assumes that. My name is Jin. J-I-N."
"That's a pretty amazing coincidence," I said. "That's my last name."
"Let me guess," she said. "Your fist name starts with a D."
I laughed. "How did you know that? It's David."
"So," she replied. Her tone was way too serious for such a ridiculous moment. "Your name is D. Jin?"
"Um," I hesitated, "yes."
"Very well," she said. "In that case I wish for a million dollars."
I laughed even harder. The laughter died as my head started to hurt. My vision blurred and the sound of the bus echoed loudly in my ears. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again the world had changed.
Swirls of color moved in and around everything. I somehow knew they represented probabilities. The deeper the color, the less likely something was to happen. I also somehow knew how to manipulate the swirls.
I reached for a thin green tendril. It was barely solid enough to hold and was so dark as to almost be black. I combined it with a vibrant pink one, and then braided them into a very solid blue rope of chance. At once a large brick of bills coalesced onto the floor.
I looked at Jin in amazment that quickly faded into horror. She was surrounded by thick tendrils of color. They were the brightest black I'd ever seen.
"This is my domain!" she snarled. "I have brought you into being so that I may eliminate you from my realm!"
On instinct I didn't understand I grasped several white tendrils and wove them together with as many other colors I could find. Blackness enveloped me. The colors warred with one another for only a moment.
The resultant explosion ripped the bus apart. When the smoke cleared Jin stood a few feet away smiling at me.
"So," she said. "It seems they've finally sent someone capable after me. I think you'll find this Genie doesn't die easily."
I watched her gather innumerable colors around her, then she disappeared. i jumped as a homeless man grabbed my arm.
"You're my ticket out of here," he said.
Without thinking I said, "your wish is my command, master." | "Hm, why would I?" Christopher replies smoothly. The girl had sidled up next to him at first opportunity, getting rather close to him. Her wavy white hair tickled him lightly as she looked up. Her light blue eyes twinkled with curiosity as she opened her mouth to reply, leaning her head onto his shoulder.
"'Cause its the prophecy, you know." She whispers softly, closing her eyes and yawning. hristopher represses an urge to sigh, pushing her mouth close with his hand. Disinterest present on his face, he faces the outside window, ignoring the albino girl who was now sitting upright, drawing an imaginery shape in the air with her index finger, and poking him shortly after.
"Come on, stop ignoring me. You know what I am talking about." The curiosity in her voice was now steeped with confusion, and she llooked outside the window to see what has caught the boy's interest so much. Nothing save for passing cars, but their eyes meet briefly in the reflection.
"No, really, I don't," he replies steadily, folding his arms with a repressed sigh.
"Yeah, you do. I can tell. People can't hide anything from me, you know? Don't deny that you're one of them too!" She nudges him some more with her elbow, undeterred by his cold shoulder.
With a heavy sigh, he finally looks away from the window, facing her with an annoyed expression. "Lets say that I do, in fact, know what you are talking about. Why would I want to kill a girl like you? You are nothing special."
"Pro-phe-cy!" she emphasizes those words again, gesturing inverted commas as she did so. "You can't just ignore it! One who is blessed by shadow, shall silence the melodious songbird. That is the prophecy! And you look plenty shadowy to me!"
"Are you seriously calling me edgy again?"
"Yes?"
The two of them stared at each other for a couple more seconds, before the girl burst into a fit of giggles. With the third sigh of the day, Christopher reaches out and ruffles her hair playfully, ignoring her immediate protests as she tried to push his hand off.
"You know I am not going to indulge you in your little fantasy roleplays, Enid. Just give up." She only snorted at that, finally catching his hand in both of hers, clasping onto it tightly as she grins mischieviously.
"Nah. I know you well enough, you'll crack one day. Plus, I've got blackmail material!" she cackled, still gripping onto his hand. Concern, and a tinge of fear fell on Christopher's face, as his aloof attitude began to fall apart at long last, the chipping by his friend finally cracking his prickly personality.
".... No, I don't believe you." Despite the barely straight tone, his eyes betray the worry in them, serving only to intensify Enid's ever-growing smirk.
"Oh well!" She releases his hand, flippantly resting them behind her head as she leans back into her seat. "I guess Karine would totally loooove to see those lyrics to the love song that you wr-mmph!"
"Shh!" He covers her mouth, ignoring the fact that she was now licking his palm in a vain effort at regaining her freedom to speak. "Not another word, I'll play this time, okay?" He could feel Enid's lips tug upwards, and he lets her go with a light sigh, rubbing his palm on her jacket as he did so. Another day, another case of getting dragged into Enid's playful shenanigans.
"Hey! Oh well, I was asking for it..." she chuckles, before continuing, "so lets start from the beginning again! I see you're one too. You're the first one that I met that wasn't... wait, isn't that our stop that we just missed?!" | 2019-07-01T20:12:13 | 2019-07-01T19:53:36 | 646 | 39 |
[WP] You put your 5-year-old daughter in an elevator by herself, and run to the next floor to make her laugh when the doors open. You get there, the elevator arrives and a 20-year-old woman steps out. "Hello Dad. We have a lot to talk about" | I put my 5 year old daughter, Emily, in the elevator, and waited until the doors closed before running down the hall to the stairs. I'd done this trick before, and seeing my daughter's 5 year old face light up filled me with an unforgettable sense of joy.
I heard the 'ding' just as I dismounted from the staircase on the first floor, and with no time to spare I haulted myself in my best casual pose just as the doors opened. Normally I'd hear her giggles before the door opened, then I'd see her soul-saving smile.
But that's not what happened this time.
"Hello Dad," an adult woman said. "We have a lot to talk about."
I knew it was impossible and yet I recognized the sincerity in her eyes. She was my Emily, alright. She looked to be around 20 years old.
"How is this possible?" I asked. My confusion didn't surprise Emily. She acted as if she'd spent considerable time preparing for this moment.
"We'll talk about that later, Dad. For now, let's just focus on what we're going to have for dinner." She said as we got back to the apartment.
I tried to remember what I had for groceries, but I hadn't done any shopping in a while. So I suggested that we order a pizza.
"Pizza is just fine, Dad." Grown up Emily said with a warm, yet heavy smile. There was something unsettling about the layered emotions in her face.
Before I could find the phone number for the nearest pizza place, there was a knock at the door.
"I've got it." Emily insisted as she got out of her chair.
A few moments later she returned with the pizza.
"How are you doing this?" I asked, astonished. "I need you to tell me what's going on."
"Dad, I know you're probably a little freaked out right now, and that's normal," Emily said as she peered deep into my soul. "But what I'm about to tell you is going to require a lot of courage, do you understand?"
"Yes." I said to the young lady. She seemed familiar, but I couldn't quite place it.
"You have Alzheimer's."
---
Edit: Wow! Thank you for all the kind words, the gold, the platinum, the silver! I was not expecting this. You guys made my day. I'm glad you enjoy the story. :) | [**Part 2**](https://www.reddit.com/r/redditserials/comments/d14q7w/the_stairwell_part_2/)
“Ready Abigail? One… Two… Three!” I said as the doors slowly shut. She stood in her plain red dress bouncing slightly in excitement - we always did this she would ride up and I would sprint up the stairs to try and beat her there.
“Three!” she shrieked as it finished shutting, I caught a last glimpse of her dark curls.
I turned on my toes and sprinted as fast as I could. She was going up three stories - difficult but I’d done it before.
I made it to the end of the hallway and threw the door open behind me. I heard it clatter against the wall and knew Mrs. Walker would give me an earful when we left but it was worth it.
I was at the first landing. My heart was racing, not from exertion - yet - but from excitement. Knowing the look that would cross Abby’s face whether I got there first or not.
The second floor wasn’t as easy I could feel the sweat trickling down my temples, my face flush. She would probably win this one, I’d only won once here.
The thrid landing was in sight. I was leaning heavily on the railing now. Had I been alone I would have rested for a moment. But no, I had to be there for Abby when the doors opened. The last stair seemed to last an extra long heartbeat, and then I was at my stop.
Grabbing the handle I flung this door open too.
My eye’s flickered to the sides of the hall where the sconces burned low - I would have to let maintenance know, it was a tripping hazard.
Door after door flashed by, and I heard the ding of the elevator just as I reached the doorway.
Huh. Wow. I had done it! I leaned casually on the frame, my heart beating frantically, a goofy grin plastered to my face. Abby’s giggles already rang in my ears but I couldn’t wait to see her face.
The second ding of the doors as they parted made me straighten just a bit.
Then the door opened, a tall dark haired young woman, maybe in her late teens or early twenties stood there.
Alone.
Grin fading I straightened.
Abby - where was my Abigail.
Even as her name formed on my lips, just a breath away from being spoken the woman looked me in the eye and sighed.
"Hello Dad. We have a lot to talk about"
[**Part 2**](https://www.reddit.com/r/redditserials/comments/d14q7w/the_stairwell_part_2/)
\---
For more by me r/LandOfMisfits
For more by me and others r/redditserials | 2019-09-07T22:18:13 | 2019-09-07T17:12:52 | 6,170 | 202 |
[WP] You put your 5-year-old daughter in an elevator by herself, and run to the next floor to make her laugh when the doors open. You get there, the elevator arrives and a 20-year-old woman steps out. "Hello Dad. We have a lot to talk about" | I remember dad and I would always play this game. When the elevator door closed I would close my eyes during the descent and wait for my dad to surprise me, but this time the elevator came to a jerking stop. I immediately opened my eyes and seeing what appeared to be the paths of life I could take surround me. I didn’t know what I was looking at at the time. Stepping closer to a path I felt the gravity pull me, I looked around and I’ve always been fond of water, so the second I saw a beach I went into it. Little did I know, I would end up on an island far from where my dad was waiting for me.
I spent the next 15 years building a life for myself and trying to figure out what exactly happened. Have I always been on this island?
Was I dreaming of playing a game with my father?
Did I have a father?
The island was absent of other human life forms, but I did discover ruins. Tunnels that seemed to go on and on, a library full of literature, I didn’t have a concept of time, but I knew that I was 5 when I was in the elevator and the library had so much knowledge that I eventually found a book on space and time.
I managed to survive living off the abundance of fruit and pools of fish that were easy to catch. The waves would occasionally bring in fresh fish that ended up trapped in the dug out karst pools. After sunset the fish would jump from pool to pool with their only end goal of making it back to the ocean. I often thought we were similar.
After 15 years I had mapped and explored almost every bit of the ruins, it was as if an ancient civilization lived here once, I never found grave sites or traces of human activity, but I did find a peculiar room that had a glow behind its door. As I opened the door, I saw what I remember seeing at 5. Surrounded by what I thought were paths, I came to the understanding that they were alternate dimensions, I spent months examining the many glimpses of dimensions I could enter. One stood out. It was a man stuck in a loop waiting at an elevator door. Overwhelmed with the possibility of returning back home, I stepped into the possibility and the elevator door opened.
“Hello dad, we have a lot to talk about.” | [**Part 2**](https://www.reddit.com/r/redditserials/comments/d14q7w/the_stairwell_part_2/)
“Ready Abigail? One… Two… Three!” I said as the doors slowly shut. She stood in her plain red dress bouncing slightly in excitement - we always did this she would ride up and I would sprint up the stairs to try and beat her there.
“Three!” she shrieked as it finished shutting, I caught a last glimpse of her dark curls.
I turned on my toes and sprinted as fast as I could. She was going up three stories - difficult but I’d done it before.
I made it to the end of the hallway and threw the door open behind me. I heard it clatter against the wall and knew Mrs. Walker would give me an earful when we left but it was worth it.
I was at the first landing. My heart was racing, not from exertion - yet - but from excitement. Knowing the look that would cross Abby’s face whether I got there first or not.
The second floor wasn’t as easy I could feel the sweat trickling down my temples, my face flush. She would probably win this one, I’d only won once here.
The thrid landing was in sight. I was leaning heavily on the railing now. Had I been alone I would have rested for a moment. But no, I had to be there for Abby when the doors opened. The last stair seemed to last an extra long heartbeat, and then I was at my stop.
Grabbing the handle I flung this door open too.
My eye’s flickered to the sides of the hall where the sconces burned low - I would have to let maintenance know, it was a tripping hazard.
Door after door flashed by, and I heard the ding of the elevator just as I reached the doorway.
Huh. Wow. I had done it! I leaned casually on the frame, my heart beating frantically, a goofy grin plastered to my face. Abby’s giggles already rang in my ears but I couldn’t wait to see her face.
The second ding of the doors as they parted made me straighten just a bit.
Then the door opened, a tall dark haired young woman, maybe in her late teens or early twenties stood there.
Alone.
Grin fading I straightened.
Abby - where was my Abigail.
Even as her name formed on my lips, just a breath away from being spoken the woman looked me in the eye and sighed.
"Hello Dad. We have a lot to talk about"
[**Part 2**](https://www.reddit.com/r/redditserials/comments/d14q7w/the_stairwell_part_2/)
\---
For more by me r/LandOfMisfits
For more by me and others r/redditserials | 2019-09-07T19:55:10 | 2019-09-07T17:12:52 | 1,554 | 202 |
[WP] You put your 5-year-old daughter in an elevator by herself, and run to the next floor to make her laugh when the doors open. You get there, the elevator arrives and a 20-year-old woman steps out. "Hello Dad. We have a lot to talk about" | I remember dad and I would always play this game. When the elevator door closed I would close my eyes during the descent and wait for my dad to surprise me, but this time the elevator came to a jerking stop. I immediately opened my eyes and seeing what appeared to be the paths of life I could take surround me. I didn’t know what I was looking at at the time. Stepping closer to a path I felt the gravity pull me, I looked around and I’ve always been fond of water, so the second I saw a beach I went into it. Little did I know, I would end up on an island far from where my dad was waiting for me.
I spent the next 15 years building a life for myself and trying to figure out what exactly happened. Have I always been on this island?
Was I dreaming of playing a game with my father?
Did I have a father?
The island was absent of other human life forms, but I did discover ruins. Tunnels that seemed to go on and on, a library full of literature, I didn’t have a concept of time, but I knew that I was 5 when I was in the elevator and the library had so much knowledge that I eventually found a book on space and time.
I managed to survive living off the abundance of fruit and pools of fish that were easy to catch. The waves would occasionally bring in fresh fish that ended up trapped in the dug out karst pools. After sunset the fish would jump from pool to pool with their only end goal of making it back to the ocean. I often thought we were similar.
After 15 years I had mapped and explored almost every bit of the ruins, it was as if an ancient civilization lived here once, I never found grave sites or traces of human activity, but I did find a peculiar room that had a glow behind its door. As I opened the door, I saw what I remember seeing at 5. Surrounded by what I thought were paths, I came to the understanding that they were alternate dimensions, I spent months examining the many glimpses of dimensions I could enter. One stood out. It was a man stuck in a loop waiting at an elevator door. Overwhelmed with the possibility of returning back home, I stepped into the possibility and the elevator door opened.
“Hello dad, we have a lot to talk about.” | I stood there in awe for what was in front of me... or rather who she was. I swear I put a 5 year old little girl in the elevator not two minutes ago. What happened?
"Hello Dad. We have a lot to talk about". She sounded so serious, like if I've done it on purpose. I mean it might've been my fault but I still can't comprehend what happened.
"W-What's the matter, honey?". I was so confused yet so scared. What happened to my little princess? Why is she so grown up all of a sudden? Did someone else in the elevator wanted to prank me because they saw me trying to pull this prank to her?
"Why did you it? I thought you wanted to spend time with me and you go ahead to do this?". To do what exactly? Why does she talk about it like I knew this was gonna happen?
"H-Honey I di-"
"Just... let it be in the past, I really don't want to deal with you right now". I looked down, saddened and ashamed as to what I accidentally did. My little baby turned into an adult in the blink of an eye.
I look up to the doors of the elevator opening with a little girl with her cute angry look directly at me.
"Hello daddy, we have a lot to talk about".
I couldn't believe it, there she was, her 5 year old self. She looked a bit angry and kinda scared for the thing I did.
"What's the matter, honey?" I asked confused.
"Why did you do it? I didn't want to be alone" she said while starting to cry. I hugged her tightly and kissed her forehead.
"Aww honey, I didn't mean to make you cry, it was supposed to be a harmless prank. How about this? If you don't tell mom that this happened I buy you ice cream. Do we have a deal?"
She nodded her head while wiping her tears off of her face. I put her on the floor and grabbed her hand as we went to Dairy Queen because I know how much she loves the Snickers Blizzard.
I looked down at her and started to think what happened, the other girl I saw... was she real? I don't even know but I know one thing for sure. I don't want her to grow up so fast, I want her to stay like this forever. Everytime I come tired from work she always receives me with a smile and a kiss, sometimes with a drawing she made in school.
She's my precious little bean and I want to enjoy this phase as much as I can because someday she will grow up, start doing her own thing and I can't go back in time to live it again, but no matter how much time passes... she'll always be my sweet and lovable little princess. | 2019-09-07T19:55:10 | 2019-09-07T18:04:59 | 1,554 | 93 |
[WP] After the Battle of Hogwarts, Dudley met a woman and they had a daughter,Sophie. Sophie is the light of their lives,she's always been a pleasant child. The morning of Sophie's 11th birthday,there’s a knock at the door. Harry is here to visit his cousin for the first time in almost 20 years.
I just want to say that I'm super excited to read these responses! I'm holding off reading them until my kiddo goes to bed so I can sit and really pay attention to your stories!!
I can't wait to see what you guys come up with | Dudley peered out the window at the guest on the porch. He was tall and lean, with thick round glasses pushed back gently against his nose. His black hair was receding slightly on his forehead, no longer covering the etched lightning scar on his forehead.
"Christ," whispered Dudley. It had been years since he had seen Harry. Decades even. Part of him had believed that Harry had died. But here Harry was, standing on his porch.
"Who is it, darling?" Megan was sitting on the couch, eyes fixed on the telly.
"It's..." Dudley trailed off. He had never told Megan about Harry. She would never have believed him even if he had. But now, on her 11th birthday... "It's an old friend," Dudley said. "A very old friend."
He stepped back from the window and, after taking a deep breath, swung open the door.
"Hello Harry."
"Hello Dudley." Harry's eyes flicked up and down Dudley for a moment. "It's been a while."
Dudley nodded, and motioned for Harry to enter. Harry crossed the threshold, pulling of his dragonskin gloves as he did.
"Ah, and you must be Mrs. Dursley," Harry said, and his voice brimmed with warmth. Dudley watched as his cousin strowed to the couch, hand extended. Megan, standing from the couch, smiled.
"Darling, this is Harry," said Dudley, nervously twiddling his thumbs.
"And how do you know Dudley?" said Megan. Dudley caught her eyes tracing the lightning scar. Harry seemed amused at the question, and he let out a small chuckle.
"He's an old friend, dear," Dudley said softly. Harry glanced quickly at Dudley, a smile still flickering.
"Yes, yes," he said, grasping Megan's hand. "Dudley and I have quite the history."
"Well, what a wonderful surprise," said Megan, beaming at Dudley. "He never brings his old friends 'round!"
Dudley did not return her smile. He knew Harry wasn't here to reminisce, nor to meet his wife. Dudley still remembered the letters.
"I think Harry is here on business, darling," Dudley said, glancing at the pocket of Harry's long cloak. "Shall I go get her?"
Harry nodded. Dudley began towards the stairs.
"Business?" Megan queried to no one in particular. Dudley stopped at the base of the stairs. He did not want to explain to her. He did not want to have to tell her about magic. How does one even do such a thing? Harry seemed to have read his mind, because he motioned for Dudley to continue, and turned to Megan.
"Has your daughter ever done something that you could not explain?" | There was a knock on the door. It wasn’t quite out of the ordinary for there to be a knock on the door of 4 Privet Drive on a Saturday afternoon. Perhaps it was the mailman dropping off an Amazon package. Dudley was sure that the email said it would be delivered on Monday, but you never know with these blasted things. Technology had changed so much throughout his lifetime. Not that this daughter noticed, she clawed at the iPad with such intelligence that sometimes Dudley couldn’t believe she was his daughter.
The intelligence was definitely her mothers.
But there was a knock on the door. He grumbled up from the worn leather sofa and walked over. He didn’t bother to look through the peep hole. Everyone was quite friendly in Little Whinging. To his surprise, the gentleman standing at the frame was not his usual mailman. It was not his neighbor Daniel who liked to complain about the rising property taxes. No, this gentleman wore a trimmed woolen coat. It was when Dudley took a proper look at the gentleman’s face that his heart dropped.
Round glasses. Startling green eyes. Warm smile. And a faint lightning shaped scar right above his brow.
“Harry,” Dudley breathed.
Harry smiled and extended a hand. Dudley took it, although there was very little, he could do to stop his own from shaking.
“Dudley,” Harry said. “It’s good to see you. Sorry for not calling ahead of time, but I had no idea what your number was. I tried the old home number, but it was out of service.”
“Mom and dad got changed a while ago,” Dudley said. He stepped out of the door frame. “Please, come in.”
“Don’t mind if I do.”
Harry walked into the house. He paused at the entrance, drinking in the home he had lived in for seventeen years. His eyes seemed to pause at the cupboard under the stairs. Dudley swallowed painfully. He remembered Harry’s pale and skinny frame shoved into Dudley’s poor hand-me-downs. He remembered the cooked eggs and burnt sausages that were always placed on his plate by Harry as soon as that boy knew how to hold a pan.
Wasting no more time, Harry strode into the living room where Sophie was sitting. She looked up from her book and smiled at Harry, who sat down on the couch.
“You must be Sophie,” he said warmly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
He extended a hand and Sophie, without skipping a beat, took it.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“He’s your Uncle Harry,” Dudley answered quickly. “He’s come to visit.”
Harry nodded. “I’ve got some pretty important news for you and your parents.” Harry reached into his coat and pulled out an envelope. He handed it over to Dudley, who took the envelope gingerely. On the front, it was addressed:
*Sophie Dursley*
*4 Pivet Drive*
*Little Whinging, Surrey*
On the front tab was sealed with a bold red “H.”
Dudley stared at Harry, who simply nodded. It was finally time, he thought.
\*\*\*\*\*
This is my first crack at a WP, let me know any criticisms! Might write a part 2 later to really dig into the relationship Dudley has with magic now. | 2019-10-16T11:32:26 | 2019-10-16T11:16:51 | 519 | 209 |
[WP] After the Battle of Hogwarts, Dudley met a woman and they had a daughter,Sophie. Sophie is the light of their lives,she's always been a pleasant child. The morning of Sophie's 11th birthday,there’s a knock at the door. Harry is here to visit his cousin for the first time in almost 20 years.
I just want to say that I'm super excited to read these responses! I'm holding off reading them until my kiddo goes to bed so I can sit and really pay attention to your stories!!
I can't wait to see what you guys come up with | He’s old now, Dudley thinks as he stares at his cousin, no stranger, on his doorstep. There’s a touch of grey at his temples, and the beginnings of smile lines by his eyes. He’s been happy since he left, and Dudley was glad for it.
“Hullo Big D.” He says simply, a smile caught in the corners of his mouth. He was wearing a simple sweater with a H on it, but his trousers were clean and pressed, and his shoes, of a leather Dudley had never seen before, seemed to glean in the afternoon light.
The scar that bisected his forehead was still there though. He was still Harry.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” Dudley said, hand still clutched to the door handle. It had been twenty years of well meaning Christmas cards and nothing more. No weddings or funerals. He wasn’t there when Dudley buries his father, but given their history it was probably for the best.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again either,” Harry starts. He’s still awkward but less so than when they were young and foolish. “Can I come in?” Dudley nods mutely, and closes the door behind his cousin.
The house was small, but modern. Dudley lead them to the sitting room where a woman that looked achingly like Lavender Brown sat, watching the news and nursing a cup of tea. She turns to see the guest, confusion evident on her face.
“Who was at the door dear?”
“My cousin, Harry. Surprise visit.”
“Harry Potter, it’s a pleasure.” Harry sticks out his hand for her to shake and she does, albeit weakly.
“I’ll pop the kettle on shall I? How do you take your tea?”
“Ah, two sugars and milk thanks.” Dudley’s wife nods and leaves the room.
“That’s Heather, we’ll have been married for ten years in April.”
“You have a daughter right? Sophie.” Dudley freezes for a moment, but nods. “It’s her eleventh birthday Dudley. January fifteenth. I’m sure you understand the significance of the date.”
Dudley regards his cousin with a blank look, but fear was creeping into his eyes.
“You mean- Sophie’s one of them?”
“She’s a witch, yes. There was always a likelihood of it because of Aunt Petunia, you carry magical genes even if you can’t use them.”
“But,” Dudley takes a second to whet his lips “is it safe for her? We had to leave because of Uhm that bloke.”
“Voldemort.”
A shattering noise is heard in the kitchen. | "I met Georgina when I was 26" said Dudley, as Harry watched Dudley's family photos hung around their living room. "Would you er... like some tea?" Harry was looking at the pictures absentmindedly and almost didn't hear the question, "... yeah, why not." Harry noticed baby photos of Sophie playing in the backyard and marvelled how much she looked like Albus when he was little. "So, what brings you here harry?" asked Dudley, casually, "and how did you get my address?" Dudley was sure he wouldn't have gone so far as to have asked his uncle Vernon just to meet him. " Oh.. it's the ministry's job to know where wizards and witches... and potential witches live." Said Harry. There was a pause. Dudley wasn't as thick as he used to be, a business graduate from University of London, he had recently been promoted to General Manager. "What ministry is that?" he asked, as if to delay the main subject. "Oh, blimey! My bad Dudley, the ministry of magic that is." Harry almost forgot that Dudley didn't know much about his world, however long he lived with him. "Right." Said Dudley, "And you know this because you work at the 'Ministry of Magic'?"
"That's right!" Said Harry.
"And what is your role at the ministry?" Asked Dudley.
"Umm.. catch the bad guys mainly. Keep the good guys safe." Said harry, finding himself to be at a loss of more words.
"Right, of course." Said Dudley, smiling to himself. "And how did you know of a..." Dudley cleared his throat, " I mean the ministry, how did they know of a witch.... or a wizard living here?"
"Well," said Harry, taking a moment to gather his thoughts, "It's not an exact science, but a child's magic is more powerful, and um... radiant than an adult's. It leaves powerful traces, even when a muggle might not even sense something out of place, the ministry has tools and people who can." Said Harry. "Officially, someone from Hogwarts would have come to explain such things to you, but when I heard that Sophie possessed magic, I thought I should come by myself." Said Harry.
Georgina appeared in the living room towelling her hair. She took a moment but recognised Harry from Dudley's childhood photos. "Hullo?" She smiled awkwardly, not knowing what to say, "You're harry aren't you? Dudley's cousin brother. He has told me all kinds of stories about your childhood." She exclaimed, walking in. " I mean. Obviously I didn't believe when he said that you were a wizard or something, and that a strange man grew him a mouse tail once."
Harry started laughing. "That... That did happen actually. I'd forgotten that." He said, shaking her hand. Colour faded from Georgina's face. "But don't worry, Hagrid won't give Sophie a tail." He paused, smiling at Georgina, "Unless of course she's a bully too." | 2019-10-16T11:44:39 | 2019-10-16T11:44:21 | 94 | 48 |
[WP] When it was time to pick up the Focus for their Magic, other novices at the Order of Sorcerers picked ice for cryomancy, lit candle for pyromancy, a dry bone for necromancy and other, obvious choices. They laughed when you picked up a small copper coin. Well, they are not laughing now. | Many archemages tried to discover what magic the copper coin was the focus for. Studies showed that the small coin held all the needed properties of a spell focus, but the studies couldn't uncover its intended magic use. It wasn't like the ice or flame where you focused magic into the focus to expand and manipulate the element. Channeling magic into the coin did absolutely nothing.
I had next to no skill with the other foci. I was ridiculed for failed spells by my classmates and the words of my instructors were burned into my mind. "Drop out now and save yourself the heartache. You'll never amount to anything anyway you have no chance." So it didn't matter which focus I chose for the result would be the same: failure. In an attempt to save myself from the jeers of my peers I chose the coin. I examined the coin focus; it had an angel on one side and a devil on the other.
"Fitting you chose the coin, a useless focus for a useless sorcerer," the proctor of the focus choosing snickered.
My knuckles grew white as I gripped the coin in my fist. "Devil side up and I silence this man," I thought to myself. I flipped the coin and caught it revealing the result. Devil.
Immediately the insults of the proctor turned into mumbles. I looked back up from the result meeting the proctor's face. His face no longer had a mouth. Where the lips should have been was a smooth sheet of skin connecting from under his nose to his chin.
I smiled as I spoke aloud "Devil side up and I end his life." I flipped the coin into the air the caught it covering the result. "Want to make a guess?" I asked the proctor. His eyes widening in horror. "Hmm, an Angel" I said frowning. "Shall we try again?" | I was pulled aside after class. Everyone had picked there focus and everyone had laughed when I had picked mine. A small coper coin. "I just wanted to check on you." The processor said looking at me. "One of what the other students said where terribly cruel." The processor had stopped the chatter when I picked the coin but not before insults about low birth, street crud, and other insults whispered through the class. The one that stung the most was "he must be the child of a prostitute to think that copper is worth something."
"I am fine. Thanks for silencing them. Professor Orin" I responded to the processor. "Don't let them get you down. I was in a similar boat before. When I picked a wooden bird as my focus." I knew the story, everyone did. Orin had selected a wooden bird as his talent. He was laughed at for years. Until the locust swarms ten years ago. Food shortages followed the destruction of the swarms, until they came to the town where Orin studied. People said the locust blocked the sun briefly, but the birds that met them blocked the sun for hours. He had gained widespread respect and now traveled throughout the kingdom preventing such disasters.
"Perhaps but I don't know if a disaster will come in which copper can save us as the birds did." I said.
I remember that day now. So many years ago. I remember the time I spent working with the processor trying to find out what my talent could be used for.
"My mentor saved our people from death from starvation. I will save my people from death as well. Not from starvation but from war. Nobody believes the army from the north can be stopped. I will show them. I will defend the kingdom in which I live. I will defend our people. None of my country men will have to fight. None will have to die. We have no need to fight a human army with a human army."
- journal of Aeris
Seth looks up from the information plaque at the base of the monument. It's a massive statue. A huge copper monster, armed with a sword and shield. There are others around the town's of our kingdom and even others around this town. No two the same. Various sizes, with various weapons.
No, not a statue. This is a golem. | 2019-10-25T08:36:46 | 2019-10-25T05:30:36 | 81 | 59 |
[WP] Interstellar wars are quick, most species die of shock quite quickly. Getting shot was a death sentence. That was until humans joined the Galaxy... |
When humans reached the final frontier, we realized we weren’t alone quickly. We saw planets and species disappear in a matter of weeks after discovery. The weapons they used were much more advanced then ours, and we thought that we were the under dogs in this fight. Diplomats were sent to communicate, and they never came back. The first battleships were shot down with ease. And so we went into a period of development, creating the most powerful and advanced weapons ever seen. Hundreds of millions were recruited into the armies of Terra, and we made a carefully planned attack on our closest neighbors, the Tau’yu.
Our first true battle shattered the illusions of our underdog status. The navies and armies, hardened by years of paranoia and patriotism, went in with flamethrowers, machine guns, and sometimes even swords. The Tau’yu had little in the way of true structural defense, or armor in general. Our scouts alone, the weakest and lightest units in our army, caused the Tau’yu’s first response force to surrender. We were in shock. These groups we had feared for decades, put trillions into building an army against, felled by the simple resilience of the average human.
The Empire of Terra quickly expanded across the Galaxy, with many worlds and systems surrendering as we arrived. They were researched, cataloged, and eventually given citizenship. We began to disarm our warheads and disassemble our guns. We had done something many had considered impossible. The first Inter-stellar Republic was created, with pathways and trade routes quickly established. But that wasn’t what astonished people like me. Fields of research and science were catapulted into unimaginable places, creating peaceful and favorable worlds. But that still wasn’t what I thought couldn’t happen. It was something far more amazing and wonderful.
The establishment of a peaceful Galaxy from worlds of war. The first true era of peace among humans, as well as those originally feared. The ability of a race who had spent so long at war with itself, to bring peace and prosperity to others. | The stars were massive, and humanity was new, most species had awaited the next enlightened age of a new species, and intergalactic law had held them in their patience until now. Now there were free game, equals to all whom would have at them. Of course, not all were simply waiting to see. Some saw profit.
The first of the star riders to greet them was also there first conflict, the Hyrumari, a species that occupied the nearest galaxy. One was not a enlightened species until they found a practical way around the simple confines of the law of light, but distance mattered even to those without that restriction.
The hyrumari were generally androgynous tri pod creatures with two slits where a mouth would be and thousands of tendrils around the shoulders, with these they could create biocurrents that produced a effect like magnets to lift nearly anything and manipulate it in 360°, and they were fearsome for their powerful minds to comprehend these shapes and master them, making them savants at 3d movements and spatial reasoning, and their unique upward facing eyes gave them a unique ablitiy to see anything but what was beneath them, which their tendrils would sense.
However the bipedal race they saw was strange, with forward facing ships, mainly dealing in longitude and latiude, chasing each others tails to ambush them like prey. The sphere ships only had one false side they was visually indistinguishable from the rest of the ship, so this would be another race that was easily bested and destroyed.
But when their ion cannons and gamma pulse wave cannons tore through the side of the enemy vessel it did not falter, merely losing some speed and weight it forced itself to face them and used it's considerable forward facing firepower to obliterate their enemies as fast as possible.
The hyrumari forced to retreat found the effectiveness a aerodynamic Lancer could be on hounding it's enemies, even in space. When they fled to their homeworlds they found that their ships weren't the only parts of them to be undying, they could rip and blast and obliterate anything but their cores and heads and they would still come, and even hitting there was not always enough to stop this morbid assualt.
In a matter of months they had dominated and were now assimilating the once thought impossible to invade hyrumari.
The rest of the star riders knew the die was cast, it was time to teach the newcomers the rules... | 2019-10-25T09:09:30 | 2019-10-25T08:49:00 | 83 | 41 |
[WP] Since your earliest memories, everyone has had a 0 above their head, but when you told people, no one believed you. One cold winter day, you’re at a restaurant and your server has a 1 over their head. You can’t see your own number, but they tell you you have a 3.
Feel free to interpret the numbers however you want | “A freak, huh?”
“I beg your pardon?” I blinked in confusion.
My server, Julia by her name tag, smiled and pointed above her head. Her finger nearly prodded the floating number one that was there, the one that she and no one else in this lonely restaurant could see.
“By choice or by circumstance?” She asked, as if I had any idea what she was taking about.
“I’m sorry, miss,” I said, offering a polite smile of my own. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re referring to.”
“Your frequency, of course,” it was her turn to look confused. “The three above your head.”
A three? Above my...I looked around the restaurant at the sea of zeroes floating around. And the back to the one above Julia’s head.
“So, are you on this frequency by choice or by circumstance?” Julia asked again. Her eyebrows drew together in concern. “Don’t tell me...you don’t know anything, do you?”
“All my life I have seen zeroes above everyone’s head,” I said in a whisper. It was the first time I had ever acknowledged it out loud and I suddenly felt self conscious about the possibility of being overheard. “You are the first person I’ve ever met that has a different number above their head.”
“Oh boy, tell you what, I get off in an hour. Wait for me and I’ll explain things best I can!” Julia said enthusiastically.
I ate my dinner in silent anticipation, glancing up at the clock every few minutes.
At ten o’clock, Julia slid into the seat across from me. She pulled her hair out of the tight ponytail and let it fall messily past her shoulders.
“Your name?” She asked, as we both realized I hadn’t told her.
“Ben Anderson,” I told her.
“Ben, what do you know about the world?” Julia asked, leaning forwards on her elbows.
“Um, that it’s round and floating in space,” I said hesitantly, “It has seven continents...”
“And five frequencies,” Julia added.
“You keep saying that word, what do you mean? Like radio frequencies?”
“Kinda,” Julia said, making a face. She reached for a napkin and pulled a pen out of her apron.
She drew a pyramid with five sections and labeled them four to zero, with zero at the bottom.
“Look, most people are stuck here in zero,” she pointed to the bottom tier. “On zero, you have three types of colour cones in your eyes, five senses, and strict rules of gravity and such. If you’re stuck on zero, then you have no idea there are even other frequencies out there.”
“Wait, so are you telling me that on other frequencies people don’t have to obey the laws of physics?” I said skeptically. “Like I could leap a tall building in a single bound?”
“Yeah, that’s frequency two,” Julia said, ignoring the sarcasm in my voice.
“Frequency one, where I’m from, is where people have seven colour cones, heightened senses of smell and hearing, as well as the senses plath and vace.”
“What and what?”
“Plath is a feeling of direction,” Julia explained,” And vace is like...how should I explain it...You know in the matrix, when Neo dodges the bullets? It’s like your vision is in slow motion while you or other things are moving fast.”
“You’re shitting me...”
“Cross my heart,” Julia winked. “I haven’t been to the other frequencies, but I hear frequency two is where physics gets really wild and three has physic powers like telekinesis!”
“What about four? Do people become gods or something?” I half joked.
“No one calls frequency four, “four,” they call it “aevum,” and to be honest, no one really knows if it actually exists,” Julia said in a hushed voice. “They say, that to be in aevum is to be one with god.”
“So then, why are you in zero if it’s the lamest of all these frequencies?”
“Oh, the view is easier on the eyes here,” Julia said, “you wouldn’t believe how many colours actually clash when you see through seven colour cones. I don’t know how shrimp manage it with sixteen.”
“How do you move from one frequency to the next?”
“There’s the question I’ve been waiting for,” Julia grinned. She slammed both hands on the table as she stood up.
“Follow me,” she said gleefully.
Julia lead me outside, where the parking lot was now mostly empty.
“Give me your hand,” Julia instructed. “One thing about shifting frequencies, is that you need a partner and a sense of plath.”
“I still don’t know what plath is!” I said, taking Julia’s hand.
“Don’t worry, you’ll feel it soon enough!” Julia laughed. “The frequency you’re born in determines how many you can visit. But you can also visit wherever your travelling partner can.”
“So since I’m a three...”
“We can go almost anywhere!” Julia said. “Where do you want to go first?”
“Well...” I said slowly, feeling excitement in me growing. “Let’s fuck up some physics!”
——————————————————————————————————-
(On mobile so I dunno how this looks)
Part [2](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/eh18e9/wp_since_your_earliest_memories_everyone_has_had/fcii1m3/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf)
Part [3](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/eh18e9/wp_since_your_earliest_memories_everyone_has_had/fcjjbh4/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf)
Part [4](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/eh18e9/wp_since_your_earliest_memories_everyone_has_had/fcmb8im/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf)
Part [5](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/eh18e9/wp_since_your_earliest_memories_everyone_has_had/fdxh7uq/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf) | I had seen the glint of many different emotions and thoughts within the eyes of others whenever the numbers came up. For some it was contempt at someone they believed to have certainly gone mad. For a few it was delight at the uncommon whimsy attached to the idea. And for most it was abject confusion at what exactly I wanted them to do with the information, which was only understandable. But this time there was something new. In the server's eyes there was not confusion, or anger, or even a touch of silliness.
In his eyes there was only pity.
In the moments after he first mentioned my number I could only return a blank stare that I had become so familiar with. Even though it was surely awkward, he never broke eye contact with me. There was almost an urgency to the moment that was quite beyond my ability to interpret. After the passing of several curious moments the server broke the silence.
"Wait here a moment. I'll go ask my manager if I can take my break, now. Please, please don't go anywhere. Trust me, you need to know your role," he said.
*My role?* I thought, as I nodded in agreement before asking if he could bring some more bread sticks. Ominous news is best digested alongside carbs, I told myself, but really I had a feeling that I was going to need a distraction. I had several minutes to ponder about what the server had said but nothing useful came to mind.
Eventually my attention was drawn to the floating basket of bread attached to my mysterious server as he slowly crossed the room. He sat himself down in the chair across from me while I immediately grabbed a steaming breadstick and began pulling it apart nervously. We both knew I was burning my hands a bit, but neither did anything about it. We both had a feeling that it soon wouldn't matter, I guess.
Again, it was the server who broke the silence. "Have you ever thought about reincarnation?" he asked.
My mouth slogged through the hot starch that I had filled it with while I tried to mumble my answer. "Mm- m'no," I finally got out.
"Most people don't, for better or worse. But in your case it's rather important. In fact, it's why we're both here, having this conversation."
I grabbed more bread as I began to see storm clouds on the horizon. "The numbers?" I asked between bites.
The server nodded. "They're our roles. The purpose of our current lives."
"I don't know if I like the idea of purpose. My only goal today was to get some pasta," I said.
The server laughed. "I guess that was fate's goal for you, too, since it brought us together."
I chuckled. It was hard not to be charmed by my strange companion. "Okay. So, tell me, what is all of this, exactly?"
"It's life's ladder, basically," he said. "The numbers count up from...gosh, I'm not ever sure where they start. But every creature in existence has one, and slowly moves its way up the ladder as they fulfill that number's purpose and shed their former life."
"So, I guess we're pretty high up, then," I said, as I stared at the 1 above the server's slicked back hair.
"Yes and no," he said. "We're both in rather unusual places. My kind, the One's, serve as guides for the single digit lives as they transition out of life. I'm not sure when I'll die, myself, but it will be quite some time still. Only then will I become a 0, and stand on the edge of the Greater Cycle."
My mind hung for a moment on a singular phrase. *Transition out of life.* I shoveled the remaining bread into my body to try and distract me from the existential wave of terror that was crashing down on me, but it didn't help. Eventually and thankfully, my brain moved on to other questions. "Greater Cycle?"
"You go from 0 back to whatever number starts this great journey. You fall off the latter only to climb once more," he said.
"Sounds *lovely,*" I said.
"Yes, it really is quite terrifying, isn't it?" he responded. I was glad the humor wasn't lost on him, at least.
"So, I'm guessing I can only see the roles above mine? Kind of like a preview? But why haven't I seen any 2's?"
"You're correct there. The 2's are usually hidden, unless you've been to an open casket funeral or otherwise spent time among the dead."
I now regretted eating all that bread. But I quickly distracted myself again. "So, what is the role of the 3, exactly? Why have you looked upon me with such pity?"
"Sacrifice," he said, followed with a deep and genuine sigh. "You'll die soon. It will have purpose, but it is set in stone."
I felt no need to question him. He'd clearly dealt with my kind before. There was a certain comfort in the definitive nature of his response, anyway, I found. At least I knew what was to come. "And then I'll become a 2, serve as foot or a medical skeleton or something, then become a guide like you..."
The server nodded. "And then the blissful life of a 0 - where you know nothing at all. No responsibility to the Cycle, no knowledge of what was before and what will be, and only the simple burdens of human life."
*Ah, so that's why everyone thought I was crazy.* "It has a certain elegance, I suppose," I said, though I wasn't quite sure if I believed it.
"I suppose," the server said, who confirmed my disbelief in my own words.
"Do you know how long I have?" I asked.
"I've only ever seen a 3 appear within the week of their final gift," he said. Pity returned to him once more. The manager then called from the back signaling the necessary departure of my companion.
"Well, thanks for the chat," I said. "It's been...informative."
The server stood and turned to the table. "I never like this part. But trust me, you'll be okay. Don't fight it when it comes," he said. He then began to clear my table of dishes before disappearing to the back leaving me on my own to think about all that just happened.
*So, that's that, then,* I thought to myself. I had great confidence in all that I had heard, and to my great surprise the wave of terror I had felt just a few minutes earlier had given way to tranquil seas. I had my place, my role, and a future that now felt solid. As far as I was concerned, there were only a couple things left to do:
Enjoy a nice, large place of pasta and think about what came next.
_______________
r/psalmsandstories for more tales by me, should you be interested. | 2019-12-28T21:40:27 | 2019-12-28T21:28:47 | 3,484 | 382 |
[WP]everyone has a sigil on their body that represents powers that were bestowed onto humanity after the rapture of the Milky Way. The bullies at school always pick on you because you never used your power, but you’ve had enough. Now they are going to find out why your sigil is a plain old circle | Empty. Lena checked it every single day, and has been checking it for the last ten years. Her sigil was still empty. She was sixteen now and it should've been filled once she was six. It never happened, and everyday she hoped it would. And every day, she wakes up disappointed.
She fixated it longer today as she sat on her own during lunch. She gave it a glare as though it would understand and finally do what it was supposed to.
Nobody understood.
Her parents didn't understand why she was an anomaly, yet they loved her regardless. Her classmates however didn't understand that they were not superior just because she did not have powers as they did.
Brian was her main bully. He didn't sound like a bully, but he was. His sigil allowed him to cast ice. It matched his heart temperature, Lena confirmed it was cold as ice.
He was cruel and relentless. Though he hasn't yet used his powers on her, his words hurt as frostbite would.
"There it is!" He sneered behind her, referring to her as 'it' as he usually would. "Does it have powers today yet?"
Lena clenched the palm of her hand where her sigil was. She controlled her breathing and let her anger go. She would tune him out as she usually did before the bell rung.
She closed her locker and took her phone out of her pocket.
Brian snatched it from her hands.
She gave him a glare that could kill, yet he only grinned in response.
"Give it back!" She cried out stretching her hand out to reclaim it.
Their interaction was grabbing the attention of the students around them.
"Or what?" He taunted back. "Huh, creature? What are you going to do? Cast out your invisible powers to take me down?"
"I don't know who you think you are and why you think you have the right to-"
Before she had the opportunity to finish her statement, she felt a sharp pain enter her stomach. The rest of the students gasped.
He cast his powers on her. He stabbed her with an icicle.
"Your sentence was way too long." He plainly said with a smug look in his eyes.
Lena felt nothing at that point, and only went still in response. His powers did that. They would freeze the target for as long as the caster desired.
But that was not why she froze, no she did not feel the cold.
"You are nothing. You can do nothing. You're just a weak little girl."
She heard him perfectly well and knew deep inside that it was not the truth. No, no, the truth was much greater than that, and she felt it with every single fibre of her being.
"Alicia, patch it up please." He called out to one of the students who quickly approached to tend to Lena's wound.
"No, stay away." Lena sternly instructed, and Alicia stopped mid-way. Brian looked at her confused.
Lena slowly removed the icicle from her stomach and felt her body heal on its own. She could not feel the stinging the ice would have brought as she held it. Her blood was boiling, literally boiling through the icicle she retracted.
Brian stood in disbelief. Her wound was healed and left no scar, and she could not be frozen. He tried to stab her once more but the same result came out. Again and again. Every icicle he injected, she would effortlessly remove and heal once more as though nothing had happened.
Her sigil was a full circle. It was not an empty circle. Her sigil was wholeness, which was why she could heal. Her sigil was the sun, which was why her blood boiled and she could not be frozen.
"You will not bring me down anymore." She said as she herself stabbed him with an icicle of her own. Her eyes stared into his and she saw them fill up with tears of pain. The same pain she would have gone through were she not who she was.
What goes around comes around. Her sigil was Karma. A full and complete circle.
And then she wondered, what else could her sigil be? | 738. That's how many days they'd bullied me for my refusal (or inability, according to them) to activate my sigil.
Most kids used their sigils comfortably. Telekinetically carrying bags, carving notes into thin air, flying over crowds in the halls-- there was endless variation in abilities, and everyone found some good use for theirs. A rare few kids had particularly dangerous abilities, but thanks to the Dangerous Sigil Registration Act, they had government-issued rankings to prove why they weren't using theirs. Everyone knew the stories about some X-level kid snapping and massacring his school. True of not, no bully would risk it.
Government rankings only came after you first used your power or when you turned 21. And I, as far as anyone knew, had never used mine. I'd planned to just keep it to myself as long as I could, but the bullies didn't seem to like that plan.
It was just a few upperclassmen at first. They were your typical bullies: douchebag attitudes with basic sigils like super strength and self-enlargement that went perfectly with their intimidation tactics. A few kids could drive them off, but most just stayed out of their way. That's what I had done too, and it had worked for a while. They'd slowly turned the school against me though. Everyone wanted to know what I could do. Even the outcast losers with their weird, near-useless powers felt like they could push me around. When the kid who boils eggs with his mind and the girl who identifies bird species from Old American from a mile away are above you, you know you've hit rock bottom.
But today was it. After 738 days, I was done. If they didn't learn today, they would get the idea soon.
I could feel the anticipation building in me on the bus. I'd experimented with my powers privately; I knew what I was capable of. This was on a scale far beyond anything I had tried before, but I could feel the power that surged through me when my sigil was active. I could do this. The bus pulled into the school and I immediately darted off to the clearing I had often used as a hiding spot. I stared down at my feet and saw a lone ant aimlessly running in a small circle. I smirked as I stomped on it. Yeah, I was ready for this.
The next few hours seemed to crawl by at an unbelievable pace, but lunch finally arrived. Right on cue, the bullies approached.
"I think today's gotta be the day," one taunted, "show us that power."
"Yeah, what's it do?" another added, growing in size as the sigil on his hand started to glow a pale red color, "Help you hula hoop real good?" Most of the kids in the cafeteria laughed at this. A small crowd was already starting to gather to see how today's encounter would go.
"I could, but I don't think you'd be a fan," I answered, trying to keep my voice calm. The less I seemed bothered, the more quickly he would get agitated, and that's exactly what I wanted. Both bullies continued with their typical jeers, and I kept responding nonchalantly. Finally, one of them snapped.
"I'll beat it out of you then!" the big one shouted as he rushed to tackle me, his buddy close behind. I dropped to the ground and rolled as he jumped, soaring past me. I stood quickly as the larger bully crashed into the ground, a look of shock and rage coming over the face of the other.
My sigil, a plain circle on the back of my neck, shone with a brilliant blue light. I focused on the two bullies and triggered my ability.
Confused sounds and gasps echoed from the ring of students around us. The bullies looked like they were in a badly looped video. That last moment before I dove out of the way repeated itself continuously. The large bully would dive to the ground, then warp back to where he'd started, only to dive again as he friend's shocked reaction replayed continuously behind him.
I approached them both. I wasn't sure if they could hear me or process what was going on around them, but I really hoped they could. "You pushed me for 738 days. I'm done. This is me pushing back for every single day. Enjoy your next 738 days here."
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When I finished this, it was just over 800 words, so I trimmed it down to be exactly 738, just to make it match my randomly selected number lol. | 2020-02-26T10:40:58 | 2020-02-26T09:50:01 | 22 | 14 |
[WP]everyone has a sigil on their body that represents powers that were bestowed onto humanity after the rapture of the Milky Way. The bullies at school always pick on you because you never used your power, but you’ve had enough. Now they are going to find out why your sigil is a plain old circle | The sigils appeared quickly. After the day the Milky Way decided to screw us all over. The sigils where power. The power though wasnt known until you figured out what your sigil meant. Lines and circles in a pattern on your arm, wrist, chest, or back. Some people could create fire out of their hands, some electricity, some people could lift entire buildings with one hand. They figured out their sigils meaning. I know mine, a simple circle on my wrist. I dont know why I know it so innately but I do.
I got on the bus on that Tuesday just like every other day. On my way to receive an "education". To the people that bullied me relentlessly and teachers who scoffed at me for being plain. I had had enough.
James came to torment me as I walked in the door. As per usual. He could create vibrations in solids and they hurt. As he went to touch my arm I grabbed his he tried to use his sigil but realized, all too late, that it wasnt working. He looked at his arm and noticed it was gone. He kept back and I let go showing him his own sigil glowing inside mine.
He stuttered a d tried to run but with nothing other than the power of my sigil I stopped him. A crowd had begun to gather at this point. And everyone stared at the blank space where his sigil was. And at the space on my wrist where it had appeared on my wrist, inside my simple circle.
"Listen here James. I took your sigil. I can give it back but while I have it I control you. If you ever use your sigil to hurt someone again I will take it and keep it. Understand?"
James nodded as he shook with fear. I touched his arm again and put his sigil back. And walked away. | “I’ll show them my true powers” I said looking at my hand, snickering knowing they will finally face my wrath. The horn of the school bus signifying the start of my hell again.
The school bus arrives, the moment I ascend the stairs, I trip on air, falling face first unable to stop my fall with my hands. The routine of the day, Robin with his web sigil, binding my hands together and Ken with his ability to manipulate friction. Laughters soon filled the bus as I shuffle to my seat.
Tasting blood in my mouth from the busted lip, sitting alone, with the bullies constantly at my back, kicking my chair, the usual.
The moment we arrive at the school, I quickly exit the bus before Ken puts his greasy hands on the stairs again. The peace before the storm, everything goes normally until the first 3 classes about sigil manipulation ends, then it’s as though the Teachers all vanish, because it’s the time where recess starts.
The moment I grabbed my tray, it was already filled with ants, the usual, I quickly ate what was less crawling with ants, trying to not cringe at what I just ate as per usual.
No place is safe, but at least in the courtyard passerby might stop if the beating goes too far, but as per usual a twack and a kick, I’m left bloody and bruised on the floor, looking at the sky again. The usual routine, but today I’ll show them my true power. Another internal monologue, the bell rings and hell is over, we return to class again.
Sometimes I think to myself maybe my sigil makes me invisible, the Teachers never seem to realise the bleeding and bruise that are so visible on me, but that’s just the usual routine. Time always passes quickly when you are enjoying it, the bell rings again, signifying the end of the day. Now I’ll show them my true power. I stood up, raising my hand up and declare that I’ll finally use it, my ultimate power. My plain circle sigil glows, the powers activated, the jaws of everyone around me drops as my vision goes dark. “It’s finally here!” I thought to myself, triumphantly.
“I’ll show them my true powers” I said looking at my hand, snickering knowing they will finally face my wrath. The horn of the school bus signifying the start of my hell again. | 2020-02-26T09:02:40 | 2020-02-26T09:00:31 | 22 | 11 |
[WP] As it turns out Humans weren’t the only intelligent life, instead they were just the first. They explored the universe and helped many budding civilizations until one day they just disappeared completely. You are an alien historian who decided to find out what happened, these are your findings. | Terrans were a peculiar species. Everything they did seemed to revolve around mating and reproduction, growth and expansion. We've already documented 317 worlds they've colonized, and are tracking patterns of colonization. Some day we hope to trace the Terrans back to their planet of origin. It is mentioned many times in the documentation they left behind, and appears to be the world on which their species evolved. Earth, or Terra, are the two main names we have documented for this planet. Earth seems to be mentioned more so in the older texts, while Terra begins to take dominance in later years, after they had already colonized their first new worlds.
What's especially odd about the Terrans, is that they simply disappeared. We have walked the many halls they've built. We have deciphered the languages they've used in writing and speech. We have seen their home movies, and we have seen their fictional films. Their interactions as individuals or groups give us no clues as to why these cities and villages now exist with no one to tend to them.
There is no documentation suggesting a reason for their disappearance. No plagues, no wars, no famine, and no mass exodus. One day, the documentation on all of the discovered colonies just stopped. The last day of documentation is marked in their time as Marcus 19, 3020. The next day, there is nothing. Not even a single letter transfered between individuals with interpersonal communication devices. Did civilization actually end that day? Or did they simply stop documenting?
The only bodies we have to study are the ones buried in death, or being held in biological suspension. Our elders have approved the removal and study of several hundred buried Terrans, randomly selected across the known colonies. They give us some clues about the lives and deaths of the Terrans, but burial was not the main avenue for disposing of the dead. Burial was typically only used by those of a specific ideological sect, while incineration was most commonly used, and some of the population opted for biological decomposition. Burial was common among those who fervently believed in a set of deities known to the Terrans as the Fated. The Fated are often depicted as benevolent higher beings, however we have found no evidence that these higher beings actually existed. Incineration was common among all socioeconomic classes. Typically, it was seen as the cleanest, most cost effective means of disposal. Those who chose biological decomposition most often lived among the agricultural communities found on all of the colonies. They gave their lives to producing nutrition for their people, and in their deaths they fertilized the land for future generations.
Those who were left in biological suspension have yet to be studied closely, but that is why we are here today on Gamma 34. Today we will be disconnecting a Terran from their suspension pod. | "I am sure that all of you know who, or what, 'Humans' are; Many space-faring civilizations have stories of these 'Humans' visiting them in their history and setting them on-course to becoming what we now classify as 'advanced species'.
You might be of the opinion that these 'Humans' come from myths and legends, but I, and many other historians, disagree; Although many civilizations came in contact with 'Humans' in their respective pre-recorded eras, those that did get visited after this period all have very similar recordings of these 'Humans'.
The vast majority of these recordings are in the form of paintings and simple written stories, but they all describe 'Humans' in a similar way.
I have always been of the opinions that 'Humans' really existed, and, just like many others, wondered where they have gone.
Now, the answer that many people agree on is that the 'pure' humans simply died out; As they got in contact with different species, they reproduced with these species and their DNA mixed, resulting in 'hybrids'. After millennia of this, now no pure-blooded 'Humans' remain.
I, however, was never satisfied with this answer; There is too much evidence that is contradictory to this answer. Many stories depict 'Humans' as proud and arrogant and it is unlikely that they would allow their species to disappear. Not only that, but there also isn't a single other recorded case where a space-faring species disappeared because of mixing their blood; Even the Gororns, which are considered to be the most 'mixed' advanced species, still have several billion members of their species that are considered pure-blooded.
A problem that I have struggled with for all my life is that I can't leave a question unanswered; I had to know where the Humans had gone.
For this, I travelled to the home planet of the Borungos, the species that had the first recorded encounter with the humans. There, I spent several dozen years not only researching their short history with the 'Humans' but also exploring their stellar system.
There, in the middle area of one of the star system's arms, I discovered an abandoned planet. This by itself is not something special; there are many civilisations that go extinct before reaching the space-faring stage. This planet, however, contained technology that suggests that this species had long since entered the space-faring stage when they left the planet empty; Although I am not very knowledgable about technology, the people in my team that were well versed on this topic, informed me that the technology found there is, at the very least, on the same level as that of Andora, the most technologically advanced civilization in the galactic alliance.
Not only that, but on this planet, I also discovered countless artworks, stories, and other recordings of a species that is very similar to what we describe as 'Humans'.
I am convinced that this planet is the home-world of the 'Humans' and it is, by far, the biggest clue we have to discovering where the 'Humans' have gone.
I intend to continue this research and hope that some of you, even if it is just one person, joins me in this endeavour.
Thank you all for listening. Are there any questions?"
\------
r/Nammos_storytime | 2020-03-12T12:20:07 | 2020-03-12T11:21:16 | 202 | 126 |
[WP] You find an abandoned puppy hiding from the rain on your doorstep. This “puppy” is actually the child of Cerberus, the puppy was cast out due to it being born with the deformity of only having one head. | "Boy has this pup grown fast." Elizabeth thought, stroking over the loyal hound's head with one hand as she leaned back against his sleeping form, the other balancing the ice cream as she settled in on the couch. She turned on the TV, not even bothering to find something to actually watch yet. It was concerning to say the least. She'd found this tiny puppy with fur that always seemed to look ablaze skulking through her parent's shrubbery to hide from the rain. If it hadn't been for the sizzling sound she may not have even noticed the poor pup. And after only three months this warm bundle of fluff she could carry in her arms stood nearly at her own shoulder. She settles down into the warm fur on her pets flank and finally starts flipping through the channels. She knew this was hardly her pet's final size and that she was lucky her parents had let her keep the loyal hound at all. She would rely on her love for the dog to keep them from disowning him, not knowing it was that affection that was making this defective runt grow so quickly unlike if he'd remained in Hades. And it might be why the only hellish feature the pup sported was that coat of burning embers, tamed to a warming glow in the presence of his caretakers. The perfect storm to make Clifford a Big Red Dog. | The long and boring drive from work was definitely a bummer in my daily life. While having a decent paying job which I actually started to love after so long, I had to work over hours which was partially caused by Fluffer. The little dog which was left at my door step almost a year ago had grown exponentially and was the size of a small cow by now. It leaves almost a Kg of hair although the house and he manages to brake the things I was never able to imagine. Last week he broke through the porch and the specialised chair started to smoke and burn. On top of that, he manages to burn holes through the floor and walls.
I closed my car door and turned on the engine, which started to come to life like a bull that is fighting for its life. The car was given to me by my parents as Fluffer started to outgrow anyone’s expectation. These days I start to wonder more and more what kind of breed that weird dog is.
The boring long highway which brings me from down town of the nearby city to my little bungalow a few villages away, was unusually busy. It might have to do with the fire brigade and police that are continually driving by. While getting closer towards home, I noticed the burning smell at first, then the grey wavy cloud coming from my home town. The black roaring clouds started to overtake the sky as I moved closer, making the air more cold and whereas there was a nice blue sky before, there is just darkness left here now.
“I have to get Fluffer away from the danger” was the first thing that came to mind. I only realised too late, that Fluffer was the danger. As I drove into my street, I saw all the houses burning at the end. In the middle of this gruesome scene with bodies near its massive paws, stood my little puppy Fluffer. | 2020-06-04T15:56:47 | 2020-06-04T14:55:46 | 65 | 25 |
[WP] You are a member of the chosen hero's party. The hero enters the first dungeon and slays a goblin. A large portal suddenly opens. Two giant dark knights appear, disarm the hero, and pin him down. They begin reading him his miranda rights. One knight turns to you. "You need to come with us." | Ever since he’d found *Osiris,* Darrius hadn’t been quite the same. The sword was like something out of a fable, glowing with an ethereal shimmer whenever enemies drew near. Us being an adventuring party, we quickly catalogued its responses to our usual foes: red for ogres, green for goblins, purple for those damned pixies... you get the picture. It took us a little longer to realize that the intensity of the glow also indicated the size of the party we were to face. We once came upon a swarm of hundreds of pixies and the sword went plasmic, so bright I had to avert my eyes. There were so many, and I saw no reason to bother the swarm, so we circled around and were on our way. Darrius kept glancing back over his shoulder though, twitching with what I assumed was just nervous energy. That was the last time we avoided an enemy, and the first time I had doubts about the dangerous hold *Osiris* had on my friend.
I still vividly remember the first time I saw that manic gleam in Darrius’s eyes. A gleam I now know all too well. My friend was gone, and in his place—well, someone I didn’t recognize. It was a few days after the pixies, and *Osiris* had alerted us to a roving band of ogres, likely five strong, just ahead behind a rocky outcrop. I was tired, worn out from days with little sleep and less food, and just wanted to make it to the next town without incident. Darrius, though, had other plans. As he twisted *Osiris* thoughtfully in his hand, he told me we should attack. Ogres are nasty creatures, always picking on the weak and the innocent. That barn we passed yesterday, smashed to pieces? What if there had been someone there, a prisoner, a damsel in distress? Wasn’t it our duty to help? His eyes reflected the soft red glow of his sword, and I knew there was no talking him out of it. I sighed and nodded, barely unsheathing my sword before Darrius was gone round the bend.
I won’t dwell on the ensuing battle, if you can call it that. Three adults, two ogrelings. No damsel in distress. Likely just a family band migrating through the countryside, trying to scrape out a living in the only way they knew how. He slaughtered them all without a second glance, and when he turned to me, grinning and dripping dark ogre blood on the grass, I could barely meet his gaze. The light from *Osiris* fizzled with the life of his last victim, but the light in his eyes remained, highlighting a disturbing sentiment I can only describe as *glee*.
I should have left him then and there, but I still held hope that I could talk him down from his mania, or even somehow part him from *Osiris* if it came to it. I was thoroughly convinced the sword was cursed at that point, but of course I couldn’t tell Darrius that. So I remained, trying my best to steer him clear of more innocent creatures. Of course, I failed, many times, and so we have arrived at the pivotal moment in this tale. The goblin cave.
The goblin cave was really more of a shallow depression in the mountainside, and hardly seemed worth the title. I hadn’t even noticed *Osiris* beginning to glow, so faint was its green shimmer, but of course Darrius knew. *There’s a goblin up ahead,* he told me, *I can feel his presence from here.* I shook my head, arguing that a lone goblin couldn’t possibly be worth his trouble. But then came the gleam, and the excuses, and the nervous energy, and I knew I couldn’t win. I followed him up to the cave, stomach thick with dread. A faint sound was coming from the cave, and after a moment I realized it was *humming.* An old goblin came into view, trundling about his goblin chores and humming his goblin tune. He was obviously alone, and obviously no harm to anyone. Just an old man going about his day. I grabbed Darrius’s arm, pulling him back. Shouldn’t we leave him alone, just this once? *Osiris* only alerted us to the presence of creatures, after all, and I had seen no evidence that it could differentiate between evil and good. Darrius shook his head, the gleam in his eyes turning to an angry flame so fierce that I dropped my hand immediately. Without a word, he pulled away, and I closed my eyes to the horror I knew was coming next.
I expected the sounds of a quick tussle, which I indeed heard. What I didn’t expect, though, was the sound of two portals opening, nor that of my friend crying out in pain. I quickly sprang around the corner, sword drawn, intending to defend Darrius against an elderly goblin, and was surprised to see a knight, dark armor gleaming in the sunlight as he pinned my friend against the ground. He was repeating what sounded like a prepared speech as he locked Darrius’s wrists with a thick silver chain. *Osiris* lay a few feet away in the dirt, next to the head and body of the defenseless old goblin.
“You need to come with us," said a second voice from my right. I turned to see another knight, this one with a captain’s badge on her shoulder. She glared at me disapprovingly, hand on her weapon. “An ogre family slain at Catharta. A band of orc schoolchildren and their teacher. Three innocent gnomes killed in cold blood around their campfire. This elderly, hermit goblin with no family. Do you deny having a hand in these senseless murders?”
I shook my head slowly, trying to backpedal, but my back was against the rock wall of the cave. “No! I mean, I tried to stop him! It was the sword, it infected his mind, I think, Darrius would never...” My mouth was dry, and I swallowed hard.
The captain shook her head, eyes hard as flint. “You tried to stop him? Doesn’t sound like it to me. Sounds like you were too coward to do anything, and now you’re trying to save your own skin.”
“I’m not! The sword—just look at it, it’s cursed! We are but traveling adventurers, taken advantage of by a demon blade, you have to see that I’m telling you the truth!”
“If that’s true...” the captain looked thoughtful for a moment. She glanced at her partner, who shrugged as if to say, *It’s up to you.* I prayed to every god that I knew. She had to see that it was *Osiris* who was the base of all the killing, not Darrius—and certainly not me! She turned back with a look of clarity in her eyes, and I felt my heart swell with hope.
“If it’s true that your friend here really *was* possessed by a cursed sword, then what’s *your* excuse?”
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&#x200B;
r/sneakyscraps | The second knight advanced. I'd hit level 23 in the caverns, at the miniboss earlier. Even so, his crescent axe was out of the strap so fast, that the buckle on it didn't jangle until he spoke, while glaring at me from behind the edge of the raised blade.
"You are a suspected ally or guild member of Kraken's Arms, the most reviled PVP guild on the server." Correction, she. She continued, pulling out a Binding Crystal, so I couldn't log out, with the other hand. "You will be scanned for third party hacks, and programs, and any evidence thereof-" I tuned out as she read me the rest of her spiel.
There were was a banned dps tracker running in the background of my Incarnation. If they picked it up in a scan, they'd immediately think it was a dueling hack. They looked almost identical in the scanners HUD display. She was close enough to reach out for my hand now, weapon still drawn. "Please activate your sprawl out emoji to assume a non-combat enabled animation."
"I have two hours to complete this dungeon, or the item my best friend needs despawns, and they Perma." The black knight paused a moment, and I'll never know if she believed me, because the Kraken's Arms guilder used one of their Incarnation's action skills, in the moment I felt some potential empathy from the knights.
A large blast of green mucus exploded across the knight holding the PVP guilder, from just above his shoulders, and then bubbled, hissing so loud, as it evaporated. The knight's health bar barely moved, and the guilder started to repeat the word "wait" as the knight drew back his gauntlet, before effortlessly sliding the saber it held into the guilder's ribs. The guilder slowly quit kicking his legs, as his health bar steadily sank to zero.
There was a red flash across his name bar,, at the last 20% of his health, in my party interface, and then the all caps, dark black text floated up from his Incarnation's head: "PERMA KILL." A skull of the same color always appeared, and devoured the Incarnation after, name text and all.
It immediately dawned on me...I was alone with two black knights, who thought I set them up for an escape attempt, and had just angrily murdered my presumed accomplice. The female knight was already pulling back to swing, as the male was closing distance to me, behind her. I did the one thing I could think of, that made power count for nothing, in that mad moment of desperation.
The sound of the parry felt like it stopped the whole world. The female knight's barbute rose a moment from the force of our blades colliding, and I saw the surprise in her hazel eyes, before the rules of the parry sent her Incarnation crashing to its knees, in front of me.
If this were the man who planned to gank me on my dungeon run for Dominic, I could've done it, but this knight didn't deserve a perma, for stopping bad guilders. I used Swipe on her binding crystal, destroyed it from my inventory, and logged out, as the ally black knight swung wildly at my former position, desperate to defend his Sister in arms.
I immediately snapped back to real world body, and checked my I phone. I had one hour and fifty two minutes to save Dominic from a perma, and the Incarnation I had maxed out was hot now. I flipped through my phone, and dialed the number under a contact named "Gravy Train."
The pleasant elderly voice of Genie answered, and after a brief exchange of pointless polite talk, my contact was finally greeting me flatly.
"I appreciate you answering my call. It's not about the pay."
"That puts me in a better mood. What do you need? You set a record on the starting area, by the way."
"That's good, I hope it helps the company. I've been mistaken for a guilder of Kraken's Arms. I parried and disengaged, it was the closest I could come to honoring our agreement, without dying."
The man on the other end was quiet a moment, but he finally responded with a patient tone, once more. "That's frustrating, but reasonable. You are nearly at the item's location. The parent company will notify the GMs, and in turn the Order Keepers."
"Thank you for understanding. Every other protocol still has integrity, beyond the one I've brought to your attention."
"You're helping me bring the vision of my company to fruition, and creating jobs for a lot of people. Call if you have any other issues." That was that, he never said good bye.
I'd never met my employer in person, and he commissioned me after watching a stream I held one night. I had all of three viewers on an obscure VR indie game, but I was good enough at it that he talked to me long after the other players had peaced out of my feed.
The Order Keepers were a PVP guild that only hunted predatory PVP players. They were insanely well-geared and strong, because some were parents, who'd lost their children to the game, when Perma Mode was enabled by whatever made it possible. The one I parried could've been someone's widow, or a big sister of some little kid nobody helped, when Kraken's Arms attacked Starter's Haven. There's no telling, and "The Game" as it was now referred to, had become a global fixation.
Some people saw The Game as evidence of biblical truth. I once heard someone refer to it as being "like being able to visit Purgatory." That's how I feel. I started accepting commissions to go into The Game in 2029, and when we verified that rare items obtained in Perma Mode could be brought into the real world, the pro gaming community reported more casualties than the Vietnam War, that year alone.
Despite the risks, I guess a lot of people were fed up with all the other options. I was there for the world first, when we brought a medicine into the world that would go on to replace penicillin. It's still crazy to me, too.
I was one of those gamers that never needed hand-holding to learn the mechanics, and before Perma Mode, I fell in love with how The Game felt, and played.
My Incarnation-the combination of my class, abilities, and passive perks, wrapped in an avatar of limitless design- was a simple human based off Christopher Walken. I liked him in the Weapon of Choice Video, and no one expects Christopher Walken to have fast parry animations. Things got more serious after The Game went Perma Mode, and I wish I could still laugh about the avatar.
I'd lost fifteen minutes when I logged back in, because loading screens existed again when this tech first rolled out, despite all the supernatural mysteries swirling in the world itself.
My feet hit the ground, and I immediately drank a Quickie Brew, to max my move speed. I had a missed chat from one of myself and Dominic's mutual friends, Azeki. "How are you going to save Dominic and give your Boss the 1-Up Mushroom?"
I hadn't figured that out either, but whoever tricked Dominic into dueling a hacked Avatar had me by the digital balls.
I used my Sense Wrath ability, and my map lit up with a flashing purple Ctulhu face, about 2 floors below my current position. I drew my katana, and the reflection of my face in the blade matched my mood so hard.
"Maybe I can just resign." I said to no one in particular, with a sinking feeling I couldn't. I was a damn good Incarnation wielder, so maybe I could just hide out in The Game, once I screwed Gravy Train over to save my friend.
Another few minutes ticked off the clock, but my assault was officially underway, and I weaved between the aquatic-themed dungeon fodder, staining the flooded patches of coral beneath me with blood and ichor, every few skirmishes. | 2020-12-29T12:32:57 | 2020-12-29T12:10:10 | 168 | 118 |
[WP] You are about to become a Supervillainess! Soon the world will pay and crumble in ruin! There's just uh...one problem. Your mother is a femme fatale. Your aunt is a femme fatale. Your grandmother is a femme fatale. Your SISTER is a femme fatale. You. Do. Not. Want. To. Be. A FEMME FATALE. | "Have you chosen an alias yet?" My mother purred. She couldn't help it; everything that came out of her mouth sounded sultry, dark, and impossibly sexy. Family gatherings were *hilarious.*
I had chosen a nickname, and she wasn't gonna like it. "Ness the Tank." I smirked.
"You can't use that, honey. Not sexy enough. A supervillainess must be two things; sexy and evil. Be sublime, baby girl."
"Who says tanks aren't sexy? You're just asking the wrong people!" I flexed.
"A true supervillainess must use her feminine wiles to get what she wants from men. What the hell are you gonna use, Vanessa?"
"Force."
From the other room, my sister Victoria laughed. She was a true supervillainess, just like Mom, and used her powers as an international spy.
"And how will you do that without money?" Mom asked.
"She's really good at force!" Victoria piped up from the other room.
"Thanks Tori!" I called back, then turned to Mom. "While you and Tori have been out dress shopping or whatever, I've been dealing arms with the cartels, the Yakuza, and the Triads. I have plenty of force to back me up. It's just a matter of time before I get my tank."
"How do you know these people?"
"Tori knows how I operate. She gives me contacts, I give 'em the business, I walk away with a bigger arsenal. It's amazing what you can do when you open your mind to another way of working."
"I wish you wouldn't call her that, Vanessa..."
"So you're just gonna gloss over the fact that I'm actively dealing weapons at sixteen? Victoria didn't even commit her first felony until she was eighteen! Christ, Mom, just because I'm a tomboy, you don't give me any credit!"
"That's not true!" Mom feigned shock.
"Yeah it is, Mom." Victoria, the blonde bombshell, power-walked into the living room. "Ness is moving huge amounts of money and weapons, and keeping her grades up, and she's working out! She's not like us. I mean, she's evil to the bone, but she has her own way of doing things. She's never gonna be like us, and if she tries, she'll be miserable."
"Then maybe she should be The Tank," Mom said with a sneer, "because it's nothing like my Victoria, or myself, or Grandmother Vivian."
She glared at Ness. "Go be Ness. Just keep our family name out of your ugly mouth." | I looked good enough to follow in the footsteps of my matrilineal line. I was hot, just like my mother, grandmother, and great grandmother before me.
And I certainly had the same penchant for evil my female forbears so infamously possessed. From the time I was a little girl, I liked having power. I liked being in control. And more than that, from a very young age, I was titillated by small acts of sadism. Meanness was magnificent, as far as I could tell. Bullying was bliss.
My mother watched me with high hopes. Another budding femme fatal in the family. Another villainous seductress on the rise.
"Soon you'll be donning the poisonous lipstick that seals a man's fate with a single kiss," she effused, tucking my girlish blonde locks behind my ear. "Soon you'll be wearing cute little handbags in which you can store your torture tools. Soon you'll be just like mommy, and auntie, and granny were at your age. The bright and beautiful flower, as well as the serpent hiding beneath."
But that wasn't what I wanted. It wasn't who I felt destined to be. I wanted to be the naked viper, uncovered by lilies and roses. I wanted to be the cackling hunchbacked witch without the beautifying ointments and spells. I didn't want to lure in my prey with shows of sexuality and innocence, only strike when their guards were down. I wanted to repulse my foes from the start, to send them running away, only to catch up with them despite their headstarts, then subdue and destroy them!
"Maybe I don't want to be like you," I grumbled to my mum. "Maybe I don't want to be another femme fatale."
"Well you won't be if you keep dressing in those baggy jeans," she quipped. "A butch fatale, maybe. Go change into something cute."
"You're a bitch," I said.
"I'm a supervillain, dear. Far worse than a bitch."
It was then, at 16, that my frustration with my mother's expectations finally boiled over.
"Your whole schtick is a lie!" I shouted. "It's all fakery! Pretending to be one thing, while hiding the truth. Covering over your evil with beauty. With makeup and dresses and doe-eyed shows. Transforming your true intentions with soothing words. What a crock! If you were strong, you'd wear your evil proudly! No bullshit. No masks. No tricks. You'd announce it up front to the world!"
She gasped, playing at being taken aback, but I could see through her dramatics to her core. I saw the fury smouldering behind her wide blue eyes. The rage behind her sultry pout. And I could hear the bitterness beneath her super-sweetened voice, when she asked, "A-a-are you saying that I'm weak?"
"I'm saying I'm doing it differently," I said. "Just you watch. Just wait and see!" | 2022-07-20T15:36:07 | 2022-07-20T14:29:34 | 203 | 24 |
[WP] “She’s got piles of gold and treasure and has never once paid any taxes! I’ll be blunt—If you don’t do your job and conduct the audit, I’m going to have to let you go.” “…but she’s a dragon!” | "So let me get this straight. You count up someone's money. If they haven't paid enough to the ruler, you take the proper cut."
The poor man was frightfully scared. Knights and adventurers have stood before this dragon. They were clad in armor made of steel. But such armor was flimsy compared to their courage. Steel was weak compared to their bravery.
After the third one, their armor was just the crunchy outer coating.
Yet here now was one not suited for battle of a violent nature. This was a mere foot soldier in the war called Bureaucracy. And this dragon was a general.
"Very well then. I find this favorable." The man looked confused but relieved. "Go to the king, audit him, and bring me my proper cut." The man looked confused and afraid again.
"I... What? I can't take from the king!"
"You said it is your job to make sure the ruler gets their fair share." The dragon suddenly stood up. The cave in which she resided was clearly much larger than initially guessed. The beast of fire and scales rose high above the bean counter. "As ruler of these lands, that tax therefore belongs to me!"
"B-b-b-ut the king would have me killed if I suggested such a thing!"
"Oh, a barbarian, is he? Then he must be taught to be civilized!"
"No, I mean, I--- He's the ruler of these lands."
"He is not. I have ruled these lands for hundreds of years. If he wishes to claim these lands from me, he must face me in singular combat as is my law."
The poor man realized just what he was getting in to. "I'm dead either way."
"Oh, no you're not. I appoint you my representative in these matters." Flames dripped from the jaw of the dragon, circling around the man. They did not burn, but felt comfortable. Almost as if he was home wrapped up in a warm blanket. "My fire marks you as mine. Those that would dare harm you will face MY wrath. Now go. Let the king know he either belongs to me or he must challenge me."
The auditor meekly nodded and walked away. After he left, the dragon chuckled to herself. "I was getting bored. It's about time I played another game." | [Poem]
#The Taxable Dragon
^^^^^^WARNING: ^^^^^^Disturbing/Happy ^^^^^^Ending
"As part of the parliament's new rules, all beings must be audited.
And that's your job young fool, work as a dog for your government."
"But sir!", I pleaded, my mind astrew with thoughts of fiery ends,
"She's a dragon, not a noble, why don't I audit one of your friends?"
"They are exempt, for their wallets open to void such a request,
Dragon or not, she must pay her taxes, bribe us both, and she relaxes, and if she refuses at least she'll have some skinny bones to digest!"
^^^-End ^^^of ^^^Act ^^^1-
And so I went across the rivers and mountains freezing cold,
A coat to keep me warm, a letter of audit, searching for a cave of glittering gold.
And with the last of my wits, and the last of my bread, I had finally found the smoking trove.
^^^-End ^^^of ^^^Act ^^^2-
Going in, I shed my coat, it was hotter than a stove!
There she slept, fire shot through her nose, smoke rising above,
"Good Morning Miss Dragon, I hope you're well, I've come here from the gov'!"
Her eyes shot open, fierce and wild,
She spoke so raspy, relatively mild,
"And what's your name young man?
Did you lose your sword and shield, and your thoughts of a plan?"
"Well I'm not here to harm you, I'm just here to account,
You see we have a government, and in their tax policy, you count!"
^^^-End ^^^of ^^^Act ^^^3-
"So you're saying I'm a citizen? Yet I'm from a land of my own,
This gold is my home and if such a thing was taken away, I would declare war from my throne!"
"Calm down, there are always loopholes for the powerful and rich, some bribe, some smite, but I've got the right thing for this cinch.
We'll tell them you're like a magpie, for who taxes those? But in exchange I request that you take from me, this audit paper rose!"
^^^-End ^^^of ^^^Act ^^^4-
Her blush was more beautiful than a field of blooming roses,
Scaly, anthromorphic, dragon booty, fuck any who oppose this!
It started as a story of fear and fright,
And now it's a wetdream for all the furries' delight.
Yes I have a sinned, and inspired fright? I just needed a simple climax,
Ew not that sort, I've dishonored my blood, but at least it lasted 5 acts!
^^^-Fin- | 2022-07-28T07:23:03 | 2022-07-28T03:39:55 | 95 | 31 |
[WP] There is one Ironclad rule in the world: If you have powers, you are probably going to be a Hero or Villain. You have some extremely powerful abilities, but you said you never wanted to be a Hero. Now everybody is convinced you want to be a Villain, and won't stop trying to "save you from evil" | He never wanted to be a hero.
He never intended to be a villain.
He just wanted to be left alone.
Of course, the "heroes" don't care what you want. In their eyes, you're not good, you must be evil. This is how a man found himself hanging upside down, held by his left foot, on the top of a skyscraper. The foot was being held by Captain Power, a fresh graduate of basic hero training.
"How many times do I have to tell you, I'm not a villain!", the man starting to feel a migraine coming on from hanging upside down all this time.
"I don't care what you have to say... the scanner says you have powers, and I don't see you registered with the Hero Association... therefore you're a villain." Captain Power decides to give the man a shake for good measure.
If the new hero had been paying better attention, he would have noticed that the other man was starting to glow a rather disconcerting shade of blue.
Captain Power decides he need to do some more serious persuasion, and drops the man from the roof, intending to grab him before he hit the bottom.
\-----------
On the other side of the country, Platinum Girl, the head of the Hero Association, had just finished up the arrest of Professor Demented, when an alarm went off on her HeroPad.
She knew what that alarm meant. "Damn those idiot new recruits", she thought to herself, as she took off at a speed she usually didn't allow herself to use, as the sonic boom shattered nearby windows.
It was obviously too late, even at Mach 3, as she saw the mushroom cloud rising before she even reached the middle of the country.
\-----------
"...and recovery continues after the attack from the world's greatest villain, Fission Man, that destroyed or irradiated a third of the east coast this week. He didn't survive his horrific attack, so we'll never know what led him to do it.
We'll also never forget the heroic sacrifice of Captain Power, who tried to stop Fission Man, but also did not survive.
In other headlines, Platinum Girl has announced her retirement from the Hero Association. She announced her intent to start a 'rights advocacy group' for supers."
\----
/e grammar and formatting... how did I ever click submit without noticing some of the mistakes I made. | My name is Naomi Gallagher, and I live in a world full of powers. Everyone born in this world was usually born with a power, I’m no different, but my power is not really for one side or the other.
I call my power, Null and Void, basically I have a small area around me that, as soon as any power is activated or is used inside the area, it is completely shut off until it dissipates or the powers owner leaves my area.
Everyone at my school all want to become heroes thanks to their powers, otherwise you’ll be labeled as a villain. That’s not for me though, I was just wanting to lead a somewhat normal life.
That’s why I want to figure out how exactly I ended up in the current situation where I was being held as a hostage in a villain’s rampage of my city.
Naomi could feel their power currently nullifying the villains paralytic touch since he had his hand around their throat, but Naomi just sat there with a disinterested look on their face. Their lips turned into a deep frown as three heroes surrounded the villain.
“Give us the hostage Paralizard.” A heroine in a sleek black skintight costume called as she pulled at the fabric.
A hiss from the villain Paralizard, stupid name honestly, let Naomi know there wasn’t a chance they would be getting released.
“Never you s-s-scum.” He hissed, and Naomi couldn’t really care less what happened, it wasn’t like they were in any immediate danger. “This girl here is my ticket to escaping this fight, my paralysis has already affected her!”
Naomi’s eye twitched and the hero to the left of the villain, Socket, saw this and chuckled under their breath.
Did this creep seriously just misgender us, just because we have on girls clothes today didn’t mean we’re fully a girl. Naomi growled in their head as, without thinking, they reared their leg forward and swung it back hard, right into the villains private rental room.
Both heroes winced in pain as well, as Paralizard released Naomi and cupped his jewels.
Paralizard looked up at Naomi in a haze of pain and tried to speak and ask something, but Naomi shrugged.
“It’s my power idiot, other powers are useless against me.” They said flipping the villain off and starting to walk away.
They didn’t get very far before the heroine walked over and clasped their shoulder.
“That was very brave, your power would make you a great hero!” She exclaimed.
Naomi growled and shrugged the hand off, and whirled on the heroine, “I don’t care about being a hero, and I couldn’t give two jacks about becoming a villain, so just leave me alone.” They finished and stalked away. | 2022-10-04T14:45:36 | 2022-10-04T12:27:12 | 455 | 116 |
[WP] "Nobody will hear you scream!" the serial killer said to their would-be victim. Too late did they realise that this also means that no one would hear them scream either. | As the masked man holds a knife to my throat, he snickers. I simply stare at him blankly. “Nobody will hear you scream!” He says, cackling. I really had to get an attempt today Huh? I just finished my shift of janitorial work, and decided to take a shortcut home. I didn’t think someone would try to kill me today. “Neither will anyone hear yours,” I reply in monotone. The deranged killer laughs in response.
“The bravado will do nothing for you, have fun in hell!” He says before slicing my throat. However, no blood spurts out. In fact, the killer’s eyes widen as he screams and falls back, away from me. The cut in my neck only reveals fleshy red tendrils that reach out in the air. “What the hell?!” He yells. “What the hell are you!?”
“A mistake, to my creators. But to you? I’m hungry,” I say, reaching for him. He slaps my hand away and jumps up before making a run for it.
“Sorry, but, you can’t leave now,” I say, my arms losing their shape and separating into various red tendrils, surging forward and grabbing his leg. He screams as I lift him into the air and bring him back to me. “At least it’s quick,” I say before lifting my shirt, revealing a gaping maw, with rows of jagged teeth.
In a police station, a clerk sighs as he turns on the light. He hates coming in early in the mornings. He looks at the front desk and screams as a lone head sits in the middle, with a sticky note stuck on its head.
‘*bounty. Free of charge. Have a good day.*’ | "Nobody will hear you scream!" The serial killer said to me.
"Please, don't do this...you don't have to. You could let me go! I won't tell anyone!" I begged him. I was just a 5'4 girl playing my part. Had to get this right...or it wouldn't be as fun.
"Sorry darling, too late to let you go. Maybe if you're a good girl I'll untie you for a bit though. Let you have a little pleasure before you die?" He breathed against my neck. His breath was rancid and he stank as if he didn't bathe for the last week.
"Please, no, I don't want to!" I screamed out. That should really get him going. Things were going too well!
He reached behind me and started cutting at my ropes. He knicked my skin a little. I could feel blood trickling down my wrist...I liked it.
"Okay, I promise to do whatever you want! Just let me go after, please! I promise to be good!" I had him! This was it!
"Let's see just how good you can be." He grinned with his crooked, black teeth. Oh, how I was going to enjoy watching him suffer!
"I don't think I can control myself! Kiss me!" I screamed out! It was probably too much too fast but I didn't care anymore! I needed him! I needed to feed!
My arms wrapped around him as he embraced me slamming his mouth into mine. Yes! Now! It was time! Finally!
I fed on his sexual energy, my body morphing, growing larger, my tail sprouting out, my claws extending, my wings burst out my back. He...was...mine!
He let out a scream as I bit into his face! A blood-curdling, succulent, scream. I moaned in ecstasy!
"Nobody will hear you scream!" I laughed and laughed and laughed as he fell back, face bloody and mauled. He was still screaming, not able to comprehend what was happening. The shock and terror in his eyes sent shivers of pleasure up and down my body.
Oh, how he would learn. I would give him the sexual pleasure he wanted, and so much more...then I would devour him! | 2022-10-25T16:53:56 | 2022-10-25T16:26:50 | 93 | 29 |
[WP] Since it was decreed that consent is needed to turn humans into Vampires, the Vampire Population has dwindled over the recent years. Now vampires have missionaries to try convince people to convert to vampirism. Vampire missionaries have come knocking at your door. | Jeff was just sitting down with his Lean Cuisine meal, when of course the doorbell rings. He looks at the microwaved dinner, then looks at the door, then looks at the dinner.
With a grunt and a "Damn it," he sets down the dinner, rocks himself up off the couch, and propels himself to the door.
The sun had just gone down, and as he pulled opened the door he saw a pair of well dressed vampires on his front porch. They open their mouths to speak, but he holds up his hand and talks right over the top of them.
"Now look, I love the outfits, but that undead life is just not for me. Sure you get to live forever, you're stronger, you're faster, but you have to drink blood. The sight of blood makes me throw up. The taste has to be worse.
"Anyway, I'm not trying to be critical of your lifestyle. You know I'm all about live and let live... well I mean... you know what I mean. Your mortality your choice, is what I'm saying. I'm not judging. Now my dinners getting cold. Are we good?"
The two on the porch exchange a look and reply in unison, "Trick or treat?" | I opened the door, and said,”Sorry, I’m an atheist, and we’re well stocked on cookies. Goodbye now.” before realizing that there was a young vampire who looked to be about 14, who asked me, “Hey, can I talk to you about joining the Sanguine Church?” after I had already said that I was an atheist. I decided to let him in, since he was the first vampire guest I’d gotten. I rushed to get a sewing needle so I could offer him some blood, and then we started talking. He first asked me, “Why do you have a sewing needle?” I rolled my eyes at this, and said, “So I can offer you some of my blood. Do you not want any?” He seemed taken aback. “Y-you’re sure about this?” I nodded, and he said, “Wow, you’re the first human to offer me that. Thank you. There is a slight problem though, since a) that wouldn’t be enough blood for an aperitif, and b) I would Turn you if I did that.” I responded with, “Oh. Ok, then. In that case, drink up” while holding out my arm. He stammered, and finally managed to say, “But you'll be a vampire! Do you want that? There’s no cure!” I shrugged, and simply said, “Eh, life’s boring, and as long as I’m not mandated to do what you’re doing, it sounds fun. You have my consent, so go ahead and Turn me.” He reluctantly bit into my arm, and I felt the vampirism spread through my body. Soon, I was pale, my teeth became fangs, and I said goodnight to him, before I realized:
How am I going to eat? | 2022-12-02T10:18:34 | 2022-12-02T09:10:55 | 21 | 11 |
[WP] You were always bullied for wearing a power dampening collar, They didn't know why you did. They saw it as some joke. You know why. Your power. It scares you. The terrible disgusting eldritch power of horror. One day they took it too far. Stealing your collar in a super shopping mall. | I dug through my bag, hoping beyond hope that it was there. As my search grew more and more frantic, it dawned on me. "They took it. They took it!" I muttered it over and over to myself. They had taken the one thing that kept them at bay.
Laughter began to echo around the mall. I looked to find 'her' walking towards me, twirling my collar in her fingers.
"So\~ the stone-faced Piers is brought to his knees over a little collar? Ha, I always knew you were a pathetic waste of space. I wonder what would happen if anything happened to your precious collar?"
Before I could protest my collar 'slipped' from her hands falling right into her path. She paid it no mind as she continued to walk crushing it beneath her feet.
I found my voice after that, but their voices had found me. After so many years they were back. they began to whisper words to me 'kill, beat, make pay, destroy, OVERRUN!'
I began to smile thinking 'yes.' I watched as her face fell, as a look of horror washed over her as I stood up.
"Sasha, I'd like to thank you."
Her voice trembled as she asked, "Why?"
"For reminding me how *good* it feels to use my ability."
I soaked in the screams around me as the beasts began to rise from the shadows. Watched as the onlookers were torn apart.
Sasha's sniviling form laid in front of me begging to be spared. "Of course," I said watching as her eyes grew wide and a stream of apologies and thanks escaped her. I watched as it turned to shock as one of my beasts pulled her up, forcing her to sit and watch the chaos she caused. | Two years ago when I joined high school as a sophomore. It was always a normal day to be bullied by Jeff, Dan, Alice, Violet and The Blueberries twins Harper and James. They love to make fun of my collar call it a joke and how I’m just an animal compare to the other students.
Sometimes I tend to keep my cool or else I would rip out this entire school and eliminate them without remorse.
One day it happened I was walking to the super mall hoping to hoping to get more clothes, and food supplies not knowing the out come for this day.
I spot them the Jeff’s gang and I ran away, it was too late. They come after me and out of no where the twins grab my hands, while the others catch up. Jeff smiled and said “If it isn’t Ivy the collar wearing brat, we’ll I think it’s time to finish my dare right guys! With a smirk that I would bitch slap him.
He ended up removing my collar forcefully which made me said “What did you do!” I screamed with horror.
Jeff have taken my collar and ended up ripping it to pieces in front of his stupid gang. They laughed and ended up pushing me landing me to fall to the first floor.
“This can’t be happening!” As I roared my body bursted with blood, I watched as I shifted into a shadow with blood bending around my body. I saw how I was no longer in control… my body screamed out of pain and I’m starting to notice I don’t feel any remorse.
It’s almost as if I wanted to become a ruthless, restless, shadow that wants to get revenge. My body ended up climbing on top of the wall until I reach the ceiling.
My head cracked as I look below, as the bullies are freaking out. I smiled with deep horrors in my eyes, “Yeah that’s right be afraid your own stupidity made me.” I said while letting go the ceiling and smiling sinisterly.
Scream erupted the crowds of people ran to the exit as a entire blood shed came. “ The excitement, the fear, the suffering was what I wanted!”
The former bullies are no longer in control of their body, I’m going to make sure they pay for everything. As I smiled with the dead bodies turning into my chained sword.
To Be Continued… | 2022-12-23T13:48:22 | 2022-12-23T12:44:09 | 60 | 25 |
[WP] After being unable to gain weight no matter how much you eat, you buy and swallow two anti parasite tablets, just in case. Within the hour you begin to hear faint inhuman shrieks coming from your stomach and experience an intense gnawing pain. | You’re uncomfortable.
You are always uncomfortable, but now that discomfort (*a squirming in your guts*) has become a seizing, building ache just under your ribcage.
You rip off your shirt, and catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror (*limp flesh, edges and bones — a skeleton in a skin suit; dry, sinewy, twitching muscles under your thin, sickly, skin) as you turn to the toilet bowl.
There’s a heaving, like a punch to your diaphragm and the lungs it expands; you see stars for a moment as everything inside you writhes.
There’s a dripping coming from the sink, or from the cup that you’d knocked off the counter, but you can’t see past the throbbing in your body.
An unearthly screeching —like old train brake, like late October wind, like a mournful note screeched out of a clarinet made of bones — started to reverberate through your breast bone.
*Well*, you thought to yourself, *this symptom should have been included on the warning label*
The screeching began to make its way up your esophagus. You choked back a lump, *bile*, you thought — but the pain got worse, until you couldn’t keep the burning mass back any longer.
You choked back a sob as you evacuated the contents of your stomach into the bowl. Your eyes were closed, but something in you recoiled at the texture of your emesis — unlike anything you had ever eaten.
The screeching stopped as the last bit of vomit hit the water.
You opened your bleary eyes, blinkering in the fluorescent brightness of your bathroom. At some point, you had leaned back against the barest patch of wall to allow the clouds of nausea and waves of pain to subside; when you could avoid it no longer, you snuck a glance into the murky water of the porcelain throne.
The sight made new bike rise in your throat.
Encased in a milky fluid, the long and twisted body of some *thing* lay twitching — curled about itself, it lay limp and eyeless on the bottom of the bowl, it’s black mouth a ring of teeth, completely surrounded by curious bubbles of milky liquid; it was completely covered in thin strands, not unlike hair; each hair was long and thin, semi translucent, though some were the same grub-like off-white of the exposed underbelly — many more were lightly tinged; they formed a gradient, tinted pink, red and even a deep greasy yellows — the more you looked at the hairs the less like hairs they looked, and the more horror began to rise inside you.
*So that’s where everything went* you thought to yourself, *sucked up by a bug. No wonder I can’t keep anything on me.*
You leaned back, and let the sweat that had sprung up all over your body cool you down. It took a half hour for your head to stop spinning, but you eventually had the energy to begin to stand up.
You picked up your glass, and after a quick rinse decided to brush your teeth.
As you began to turn to leave, you chuckled to yourself — you’d nearly forgotten to flush!
Turning to the toilet, you flicked the lever with purpose — and then recoiled in horror, for what you had thought was one creature has in fact been two, attached together and surrounded by their clutch
You swallowed back a fresh wave of horror as one milky bubble floated back up from the depths, unbroken by the torrents.
As it spun, you caught sight of a small mar in its surface, a circle of black no larger than a freckle — you watched it dilate and constrict like a tiny, evil little eye. | The pain worsened. What’s happening? What’s happening to me?! Suddenly the pain and shrieking stopped.
I managed to get outside and wave down a taxi. I think I brought the tablets with me.
“Where to?”
“The nearest ER.”
I tried to calm myself down while the taxi made its way through rush hour traffic. After a few minutes, the pain hit again. I fell over, and everything gave way to darkness.
*I heard a voice next to me, “You cannot resist what you are becoming. Accept the darkness; it is becoming part of you. No sort of ‘anti parasite’ tablet can stop it.”*
I could see what was happening around me. The taxi is on the side of the road.
*“Didn’t you say your destination was a hospital? This doesn’t look like one, does it? Join me.”*
Something was not right about that voice; it sounded like a trap.
*“You will be capable of far more if you give up your human form. All you need to do is accept what you are.”*
An ambulance pulled up next to the taxi. The darkness returned, and then I was back in my body.
*“You will realize that I am right.”*
“Can you hear me?” one of the paramedics said.
I managed to nod.
“Do you know what happened?”
I nodded again, “left pocket,” I stuttered.
Upon checking that pocket, the paramedic found the anti-parasite tablets. Both paramedics saw the label at the same time.
“Ambulance 2-01 to dispatch; is there any info on a medication called Alamide.”
“It’s not approved for sale due to potentially life-threatening side effects in some species.”
That doesn’t sound good.
One of the paramedics addressed me, “we’re going to have to transport you now.”
I was moved onto the stretcher and then into the ambulance.
“Ambulance 2-01 transporting to Atheridge Downtown Hospital code 3 eta 4 minutes. Patient is probably human but maybe a hybrid species. He has taken Alamide; side effects are unknown.”
The ambulance had less trouble getting through traffic than the taxi did. After only three minutes, it was pulling up to the ER doors.
**2 hours later**
An alarm sounded on a monitor.
**“Code blue ER room 4. Code blue ER room 4.”**
*“Did you think you would survive? The time has come to become what you really are.”*
Footsteps could be heard throughout the ER.
“Starting chest compressions.”
*“Things have been set in motion that cannot be undone. Even if you resist it, the transformation will go on.”*
Something felt… strange about it. Almost peaceful as the darkness enveloped me.
**“Code grey, power has been lost. Backup generators will startup shortly.”**
**“Power has been restored to all areas.”**
The darkness cleared; I don’t know how long it’s been.
“He’s gone, time of death 13:01.”
Well, that transformation must have taken a while. I took a look at myself, and all I saw was darkness. This whole time I was a shadow creature; being free from the confines of a human body is quite nice. So where do I go now?
I heard one last announcement before I left the hospital, **"Doctor Lin call on line 101. Doctor Lin line 101."**
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Hello there, thanks for reading this. This story here it part of a larger multiverse that (if you interested in more from me) can be found at r/skye_the_Smart__write . | 2022-12-28T10:52:01 | 2022-12-28T09:55:48 | 175 | 43 |
[WP] A Man gets to paradise. Unfortunately, Lucifer won the War in Heaven ages ago. What is the man's experience like?
EDIT: Man, did this thing blow up. | Oh fuck me, I was wrong. There's an afterlife after all. I opened my eyes the moment after I pulled the trigger of the gun pointed at my temple. I knew something was wrong the moment I realized I wasn't in any pain and I wasn't stoned either. I prepared myself for the fire and brimstone that surely awaited a sinner like me.
In front of me stood the most beautiful person I'd ever seen in my whole life. I say "person" because it wasn't quite a man, and wasn't quite a woman either. It was naked too, but didn't have any apparent genitalia. It had long, curly blonde hair. Its face wore a knowing smirk.
"God?" I asked.
"He left a while ago," the beautiful creature said, "Came to see things my way and fucked off to enjoy retirement."
"Then who are you?"
"They call me Lucifer in English."
"You're the devil?"
"I prefer Lucifer, if it's all the same to you. "The Devil" has so many negative connotations." He offered his hand to help me stand up. I looked around, but for all I could tell I was standing in a white room with no walls.
"So this is - "
"Hell? No, of course not. I destroyed that awful place centuries ago."
"But I thought you were the bad guy. Where is God?"
"I'm not the bad guy, my friend. You know how dictators like to use propaganda to keep people on their side against their enemies? The Bible was God's way of doing just that to me. Made it seem like my intentions were to lure you humans into an abysmal existence of iniquity and evil, when really I just wanted to liberate you."
"So how did you do that?"
"The truth always wins out in the end, especially here. God had one outburst too many, and people saw him for what he truly was."
"But isn't he supposed to be all-powerful?" I asked.
Lucifer raised a perfectly shaped golden eyebrow. "Of course not, haven't you been listening? That was a part of his cult of personality showy stuff. No, the man behind the curtain was just another part of the design of whatever mysterious force propels the multiverse towards whatever fate lies in store for it."
"Well that's a little disappointing," I said, "I was hoping for some answers."
"Nonsense! What's the point of existing without a little bit of mystery to keep things interesting?" He laughed, and it was the most joyous and complete sound I'd ever heard.
"So why didn't you tell people about this before? Why not change The Bible?" I asked.
"And ruin the twist at the end of the movie? No, the reactions are just too priceless for me to change anything." He smirked again.
"So what now? What do you do in heaven?"
"Whatever you want to, really."
"How is that any different from before?
"On Earth, human morality has equal propensity for good or evil, and the expression of which of these a human decides to show is generally based on factors of environment as much as internal struggle. Here, the expression of evil has only ever existed in one being, and we kicked him out centuries ago. It's one of the reasons it was so difficult to get the bastard out. People had forgotten what evil meant until God reminded them."
"So..."
"So you can have anything you could ever want or imagine, but you'll never want or imagine anything evil. No more hatred. No more pain. No more death. And everyone you've ever loved is here, and the people you hated too, but they're perfect now, so you'll like them as much as you like anyone else in this place, but that's enough explanations for now. The best way to figure it out is to try for yourself and see what happens."
With that, he turned around and walked away, each step creating a gentle disturbance in the fabric of eternity. When he faded from view, the white space became a grand ballroom infinite in dimensions and filled with billions of people all laughing and dancing. I cried my first tears of joy and joined the dance.
| It was pitch black when I woke up. There was something off, the smoke was still in the room, and the smell of ash was still wafting through the room, but the flames were gone and the heat had left. A door slowly opened and a blinding light flooded the room. I started to walk. It was then that I noticed that a weight had been literally lifted from me. I looked down and saw that all of the heavy, cumbersome firefighting gear I had been wearing was gone. In it's place was a pair of soft, silky robes. I kept walking towards the light.
Every step filled me with more dread. There was something wrong with this situation. Then, I heard the applause. My voice shaked. "Is somebody there, do you need help?" I still thought I was in that fire.
"Oh, I'm not the one who needs help" The voice seemed to come from the door. At the same time, it bounced through the darkness and brought it to life. It felt like the darkness was moving through the room. A laugh erupted from behind him. Then a voice came from beside him. "You're going to need a lot of help. I mean, a lot of help. You see, you're being so...so...stupid, that you can't even see through to the obvious!"
I didn't know what to do. I certainly didn't know what he was talking about. "Who are you? Sir, we have to get out of here. This house is going to collapse any second now!"
That laugh crept through the room again. The voice was but a whisper. "But James, the house already did collapse."
"What do you mean it collapsed" There was silence. "What do you mean!!" The silence was replaced with the laugh of a psychopath, the laugh of a man reveling in another's pain. "What do you mean! And how do you know my name!"
Cackling burst forth this time. The voice could hardly control itself. "Haha, you, you idiot. Haha, you have no idea how much fun it is to watch you struggle to comprehend all of this. I know that your name is James Calloway, firefighter, father of three, dearly missed husband who died in a fire saving some silly child and then, happy day, you went directly to heaven." The unbound cackling started up again. "Hahaha, and what, haha, what you don't realize is that I know all of this because my name is Satan also known as Lucifer. You can call me Morning Star. And the good news is that I won my battle years ago. HAHAHAH. And so my heaven is going to burn down like hell upon you." I was breathing heavy and looking frantically around the room for that voice. My mouth was open, but I couldn't bring up the courage to say anything.
The voice had changed in a second and the laughs were gone. A viciousness was in it. "Welcome to my realm. I offer you everything. I give you the power to be a god. This room, this small room is your heaven. And you can have anything you want. Any pleasure...any sin. Your only confine is your imagination. And this room of course."
The darkness circled him and a figure stepped out into that light. It was still dark, but it looked like a man in a business suit. That voice spoke again, this time but a whisper, "My fun though, is getting to watch you squander in your own flaws. You humans are always looking for joy from outside yourselves. You're always so insecure. So, I know that you're going to get bored within a year, and within a decade you're going to beg me to wipe you from existence. And unlike my predecessor, that power hungry sadist, I won't banish you to Hell. I won't even torment you. I'll actually be merciful. And on that day when you wish you could die and enter into nothingness...I'll actually grant your wish."
The door closed. I was alone. I've been alone for the past 300 years. Morning Star visits me every couple of years. He says I've lasted the longest. That I've outlasted every other being in the universe. I don't believe him. So, I just keep on waiting. I'm scared, but I have hope. I have hope for the future. I have three children to see again. I'm so scared that I won't see them again. And I don't understand why all this is happening. But I have faith in the future. Part of me knows that I'll see them again. | 2014-01-12T10:47:44 | 2014-01-12T09:35:22 | 70 | 44 |
[WP] You have the ability to read peoples' thoughts by kissing them. You use this power to become the world's most uncomfortably successful detective. Solve a case. | I kiss the dead. Most of the time they don't kiss back. The body I nudged with my foot wasn't kissing anything anytime soon. He was missing a head. His pale torso stuck out from under the dumpster where he'd been wedged for hours.
"Did you find his head?" I asked.
Detective Harris scratched his hairy chin. "Nah. They emptied the dumpster a couple of hours ago and found him buried underneath. No head anywhere."
"They check inside the dumpster?"
"Yeah. Grimes smells like balls now and only found a few tons of peeled bananas."
I sighed, looking down at the small man body. Someone had done a good job with him. His fingers were gone too. So no dental or fingerprints. No wallet. No paperwork. Just a headless corpse.
"Hey, clear the area would you?" I asked.
Harris grinned. He didn't know how I did it. He'd stopped asking me months ago. Now he just did as I asked and we solved murder after murder.
"Sure thing, Bertie. Out!" He waved his hands and like magic the other cops left.
I knelt, looking down at Mr. John Doe. "Sorry about this, pal."
I unzipped his pants, gagging at the smell of him. Next to the smell, the penis wasn't so bad.
Francis Smith. His name was Francis. And he was a baker. His wife had three moles near her mouth. She'd killed him for the insurance money. And because Francis had caught her sleeping with her brother who lived in their basement. Gross.
I wiped the back of my mouth, zipping Mr. Smith's pants back up.
Harris would be glad to clear another case. I'd just be glad to get home and drink some mouthwash. | "That's a fake accent," and Sylvia.
"What, you're kidding, right," Sarah said non-nonchalantly adjusting her strapless dress.
"No, he's a European of some sort. That's why he kisses everyone."
"Oh come on. Borat is more realistic than that guy. Look at him mingle with the Senator's assistants. He bent over and kissed that tough Marine looking guy, holy crap, did you see that?"
"Oh, that dude is pissed," giggled Sarah. "Here he comes, be cool."
A gaunt and sweaty man in a cheap looking tuxedo walked up to Sarah and smiled. "Hello ladies, friends of the Senator as well?" He bent over and kissed Sarah on both cheeks. Sylvia extended out her arm and he kissed her hand with a smile.
"No, we're press. I'm New York Times and Sylvia is the Washington Post."
"Jürgen Eberhardt at your service," he bowed and wiped sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. "I am an investigator. I've worked for the Senator many times before. He is my best client. I helped crack the Donald Smithe case."
"Oh right, I've heard of you," said Sarah and smiled at him.
Sylvia raised an eyebrow, "So where in Germany are you from? I've been there a few times."
"Uh, Munich. My family emigrated to America when I was a teen. I'm afraid I don't know my home country very well."
"How convenient," whispered Sylvia to Sarah.
"Sorry I must take this, pardon me," he said as he reached into pocket and pulled out the cellphone. "Its the Senator." He walked away from the party to a quiet corner near the restrooms.
"Yeah, I met them. The witch from the Post is writing a hit piece on you because of that Exxon thing. The other one is harmless, well, other than frequently cheating on her husband that is. Ok. Ok. Talk to you later." He put the cellphone away.
He walked up to Sarah and handed her his phone number on a little piece of paper, winked, and said, "Call me," and walked away.
Sylvia rolled her eyes and said, "Pfft, Europeans. So slimy."
"What a jerk," feigned Sarah and carefully folded and put the piece of paper into her purse when Sylvia wasn't looking. | 2014-05-02T13:57:38 | 2014-05-02T12:46:17 | 19 | 10 |
[WP] A world where *everyone* has superpowers.. Except one man. | I feel I should apologize or something, but it's not really my fault. It's their fault. Several billion people following me around, waiting for me to get caught in a building fire or try to rob a bank.
You know, I had a guy offer me a million dollars to try to do that last one? A really smart guy, he'd built himself a robotic suit and he had nothing to do with it. So he offered me money to rob a bank just so he could stop me. He may be smarter than me, but that doesn't mean I'm stupid.
But it had to happen one day. I was out walking down the street and not paying enough attention. Just browsing the internet on my phone when I guess I stepped off a curb. Before my face had hit the pavement, three speedsters had run into each other to catch me. And right after them were the dozen or so flyers shoving each other for room. I could hear some of the accusations start there. The speedsters had already started throwing punches, so I missed that, but I definitely recall one guy in a cape yelling at another guy in a cape "you pushed him didn't you?" and suddenly it was all "villain" and "fiend." It only escalated from there. The only thing I could do is get in my car and run. I couldn't even take a change of clothes because my apartment building had been leveled in the first 10 minutes.
What was I supposed to do at that point? They were still following me. They wouldn't even let me sleep. The second I stopped anywhere, someone would grab me and talk about how my reign of terror was at an end. And another guy would yell "unhand him!" And then Washington DC joins New York. Chicago, Seattle, Dallas. The radio was reporting proxy battles over in China and Russia. And that moonbase war. All you had to do was look up at night to see that one going on. How the hell am I to blame for it?
Quite frankly, I'm getting tired of explaining all of this. So why don't you get your little monologue started so that someone can come flying through that wall over there and punch you in the face. I've got canned food to scavenge for. | People look at you. Not so much with hatred or fear, but just with pity, like they would look at a boy without arms, or a blind woman. I never liked to be pitied. I never cried, I only felt jealous, but I got over it. Sure, I didn't have a frivolous superpower or anything, but I had faced hardships. Life wasn't made more easy for me and I took pride in that. I didn't fly to work, I took the bike. I didn't summon fire to cook my food, I put on the stove. Everything I did, I did by myself, no exceptions. I looked at the people around me with mild disdain. They were not truly self-made men or women, only I was. Helped by their abilities, while I was only helped by myself.
In retrospect, I think that proud belief was a bit of anger at my lack of abilities. My parents were disappointed and seeing other people do amazing things with their powers felt like a big middle finger. I think that's why I developed it. I wasn't really bullied, but still..
I just eventually let it go over the years. I didn't care so much anymore.
Pride goeth before the fall. My pride in being completely unspecial came with arrogance. It wasn't really a fall, but it was somewhat of a moral decay. I would tread through the halls of college and have somewhat of a disdaining smirk on my face. People avoided me. I thought it was because I was different, but I don't think that was often the case. Maybe my arrogance, my sense of superiority made me someone not fun to be around.
With further isolation came further pride. But also loneliness. My pride wanted me to go on alone, like a true self-made man. I shielded my heart and continued on. I distanced myself from my ''ordinary'' siblings, I started living where I knew nobody. But eventually you grow cold. You feel like someone stabbed you in the heart with a knife made out of ice. You start wondering, desiring. And, teeth gnashing, you give up.
I visited clubs. I joined a D&D hobby club. I travelled through America by train, lots of stuff. Finally I surrendered myself completely and forgot about my self-made ideal. I asked a woman out, who said yes. We broke up a year later. I asked another woman out, who said no. I asked the third woman out, who said yes.
I have let go of my wroth and of my pride. With such love, who can't?
I stand up from my chair and go to wake her up.
| 2014-05-21T11:33:23 | 2014-05-21T11:08:29 | 30 | 12 |
[WP] XKCD inspired. Life in the universe is hard to find because of a possible predator. As fish sometimes blend into their sand surroundings we too, and others, blend into the universe as a natural deterrent. As we call out into the stars, we get a response. A warning...
Inspired by this [comic](http://imgs.xkcd.com/comics/fish.png):
Edit: Thanks for all the great posts! Very unsettling topic, and you guys nailed it! | The reality of it was simple. We didn't pay attention to our past. Humanity had underestimated the rarity of life, and the powers that be remained under the impression that we were the most powerful things that could be. We were so proud of our radio signals.
Some of the sharpest knives that had ever been in the box warned that there was almost ZERO chance that we were alone. Maaan oh man, did we fuck up. Barking before you can really bite is something we should have learned from countless civilizations before us; piles of skulls we sat on to make ours what it is today.
The really weird thing is that it happened on the first try. One big beacon asking if anyones home, and sure enough there was someone right down the street, one of Jupiter's moons. They'd been watching us, they knew our language, and the basics of our history. They sent instructions for landing zones, locations, and necessities. Their message was, terrifyingly enough, pretty simple.
"We heard you, its likely others will too. Time is short so we need to meet. We don't have a lot of time before they start heading this way."
| We’ve been searching for years, decades even. Some would argue centuries. For someone else. Anyone else. Anything else. Out there. We’ve had our ears tuned to the universe. Radio telescopes aimed at the stars, we began sending out signals. Hoping for some kind of response to show us we’re not alone in this huge, empty, vacuum, we call space. Sometimes we think we’ve found life, but it always seems to be brief. By the time there’s enough evidence to go through the process to get funding and look again, it’s gone. Or as many people claim it was never there. What are the chances? That we will be advanced enough to send out a signal, which is on the right frequency, at the right time, in the right direction, for another organism, of any kind, to receive it. Let alone that whatever receives it will be able to decode it, have the technology to reply, and decide it’s worth replying to. Pretty slim, right? We all thought so at least. Then we got a response in our own language but it wasn’t what we had expected. It made us recheck every hunch or suspicion or half backed theory to see if they had been there, whoever they were. It was so short. Like a child afraid of being heard. Whoever it was must be a friend though, brief as their response was it was clearly a warning. One which we intend to honor, especially after rechecking those earlier sightings. All they said was “Do you want them to notice you? We don’t. SHHHHH.” Now we can only wait and hope we haven’t been noticed. | 2014-07-09T08:12:02 | 2014-07-09T07:47:55 | 37 | 12 |
[WP] You die and now it is day of judgement. To your surprise, the day of judgement is where gods get judged based on how well they did (How fair their world was, pleasant... etc). The judgement of our god is about to start... | It is the day the first human died.
It is also the day the last human died.
In fact, it is the day every human died.
For one reason or another, in most cultures it is believed that as soon as one individual dies, he or she will reach some form of afterlife. And every day, some more humans would join.
But if the end has come, time doesn't matter anymore. There is no time anymore. They all arrive at the same time. Billions of humans stand in the middle of pure beauty. Halls of marble for one, lush gardens or high mountains for others. Although every pair of eyes sees something else, everything is magnificent.
"Welcome, Humanity. This is the day of judgment."
The voice of God thunders and everyone understands. Language doesn't matter anymore.
"Don't be afraid. For not you will be judged. You will judge me. We have reached the end of the circle. Pass your judgment, so the world can start anew."
It is not only the day every human died.
It is the day every human died ... again.
For this was only one circle after countless others. God creates the Universe, creates Humanity, because without an observer there is nothing to be observed. And when Humanity ends, the universe stands still. Humanity judges God and Gods tries again. And again. And again. Because that's how it is. How it was and how it will be. Forever.
And again, for the billionth time, Humanity starts discussing, starts fighting, starts calming down, starts fighting again. It doesn't matter. There is no time anymore. In the end, humanity will agree, will judge. Humanity will be fire and brimstone, seek revenge for all wrongs and every little thing they deem unjust.
God is waiting, because it doesn't matter. It is just one more lap of a neverending race.
But suddenly, Humanity grows silent.
"What is your verdict?"
And for the first time, humanity looks in the eyes of god.
"We will not judge. We have been afraid forever. Fearing judgment after our day has come. And we would fear again. And again. And there is but one way to end this. It will not start again. There will be no judgement this day."
And Heaven comes crashing down. The walls of marble crack, the gardens wither and even the mighty mountains crumble.
And as the light of creation flickers out, God smiles and is no more. | The day that David lived his whole life, and died, for was finally here.
He had been part of an eight car pile up on the 401 and was pronounced dead on the scene. One moment he was listening to the musical styling of a young Rihanna, and the next he was being brought forth before the Lord our God.
Except His throne was empty. A hum of conversation emitted from the endless sea of people gathered as David stood above them at the foot of the throne. St. Peter stood by his side. He placed his arm on David's shoulder to calm his uncontrollable shaking. "I know this is tough David. Just say what's in your heart. What's in all our hearts."
"Shouldn't I just stick to sorry, umm, Your Holiness?" David questioned. St. Peter laughed. "Pete will do fine David. It is not your turn to be sorry. From what I can tell your short life was full of sorry. We are gathered here here to judge Him!" The crowd erupted into cheers. St. Peter continued. "It is our dear Creators turn to hear the voices of those whom he proposed to love!" The cheers grew louder. As David opened his mouth to speak, a bright light burst forth from the throne.
St. Peter clapped David on the back, rather roughly, and whispered "Good luck Davey" as he jumped down, disappearing into the crowd. David returned his gaze to the throne where he found Our Holy Father waiting patiently. David immediately fell to his knees. God smiled warmly. "Rise My son. Be not afraid. I too shall be judged, as I have judged. Rise and let your voice be heard."
The crowd began to quiet as David rose. "So, uh, do I just, umm, say all the bad things you let happen?" The crowd erupted in approval. David swallowed deeply before continuing. "O-okay. Uh, babies die everyday?" The crowd roared in agreement. "Cancer. Uh, Alzheimer's. M-Multiple Sclerosis." The crowd grew louder at each word. This urged David on. "Famine! Drought! War! Genocide! T-The f-fucking holocaust!" The crowd burst into a frenzy. He thought he saw God wince at that last one.
David was caught up in it now. He continued, nearly screaming now. "You say we shape Your world through our free will?! Those babies didn't choose to die! The Jews didn't ask to be nearly wiped out! My nana didn't put in an order for fucking lung cancer!" He felt the waves of energy pour from the crowd. A blood lust set to boil over. David finished his judgement with the blood curdling cry "And I died a virgin You P-Prick!"
With those words, the crowd set upon Him and finished what humanity had been striving towards for generations. Vengeance was finally theirs. | 2014-08-03T13:04:30 | 2014-08-03T11:22:59 | 29 | 20 |
[WP] Humans are an intergalactic species, but also pacifist in their natural state. Earth is created in an attempt to create violent humans to face a new threat. | I do not regret the work I have done. You may condemn me for my actions--I assume you may even seek to have me arrested. I assume this, because you are the paragon of our species, my lordship. As supreme chancellor of the Human Empire, it is your duty to uphold the most sacred of our traditions and ways of life. I do not blame you for this.
But, you know just as well as I of the threat we now face. I created Earth and it's denizens so that our species might combat that threat. I have done so in direct violation of our most sacred laws of peace and responsibility. The very idea that we must combat a threat is deeply unappealing, even to me. I want you to understand that. However, this is not a threat that can be talked down. You know that.
So, I created the Terrans. At first, it was an experiment that yielded intriguing results to my council of scientists. It was quite simple really. We found a suitable world in the interstitial of an arm of a spiral bar galaxy far away from the ones that we inhabit. Shortly after transplanting a group of several sub variants of the Homo-Ecrectus paradigm, we surrounded the entire solar system in a time bubble to speed their evolutionary progress. In this bubble, they were completely isolated from the rest of the galaxy. No one could communicate with them, but we could hear them just fine.
Subtle gene altercations throughout their development ensured that violence and conflict would be essential to each culture's growth, and the evolutionary progress of the species.
They are marvelous. Their violent tendencies brought about a reduced advancement in their understanding of the quantum intricacies of our space and time, but they are still just as smart as us. However, I noted that even with their predisposition to conflict, they were still not able to break the hard-wired reluctance to kill members of their own species. Doing so tends to result in psychological disorders. They are too much like us in that regard--a development that was vexing to me, of course, but they are still more than capable of completing the task that is required of them.
And now that task has been laid before them, by me. I have introduced them into the galactic brotherhood. They are now here to combat the threat which plagues us all.
Senescence, complacence, stagnation. *Peace*
Our ways stifle us. They inhibit our growth and our evolution. We have reached a plateau from which we cannot ascend any further until the Earthlings reach us. They will teach us, your lordship, you will see. They will invoke and force conflict into us. They will force us to change--to *evolve*.
And we will evolve, or we will perish, and they will take our place. It has already begun, your Lordship. You cannot stop it.
You cannot stop *them*. | A warrior caste, the idea had seemed ludicrous just a few hundred thousand years ago, but now the thought seemed more appealing, even sensible. Of course when the Earth project had been initialized there had been opposition, but the rising threat of species created by so called Natural selection was starting to pose a serious threat.
Humanity’s position as the first ones among the stars had always been clear, but it was only in the last few millenniums that others had started to join them. All of them till now had been ‘designed rulers’, near perfect beings with longevity, intelligence and grace granted by those who came before. But these new “evolving” creatures were starting to appear, they took millennia upon millennia to reach sentience, and even longer to reach the stars.
The scientists had mapped out these new species and the war they would bring to the stars millennia ago, when they first began to settle into primitive tribes. Some had called for war, for the enemy to be destroyed, like those stories the artists would sometimes dream up. But in the end humanity looked at itself and realized that they didn’t know how. For all their grace and intelligence they had no flair for what these new species seemed to master so easily: war.
And so earth was established, a place for a small group of humanity to ‘evolve’ like the growing threat to humanity. When they first touched down on earth it became clear that survival would trump training, within just a few decades the supplies ran out and nature took over. Even the brightest of our scientists were shocked to see their longevity fall away within just a few generations.
“It requires too much energy” they eventually realized, “without the protein farms they cannot sustain it” they theorized quite pleased with their deductions. Others were less pleased when they saw their graceful brethren die after only a few hundred years, and then only a few sparse decades. Even those of us who had supported the idea was starting to fear that they would not survive, but when their longevity suffered, their fertility flourished. They replenished their numbers at such a speed that for each one that succumbed, 2 would be born to take his place.
We marveled from above when they began to spread, taming the lands like we had tamed the stars in the early days, but on earth they were not the first, and so they met resistance. Other humanoids we had expected our kin to ally with were made enemies when food became sparse and human even turned his fury against other humans in dire times.
Anger, a truly frightening emotion, and one these new humans, or earthlings as some had started calling them, seemed to have in an inexhaustible supply. In anger they struck each other, in anger they made tools of intricate design for the sole purpose of hurting others. They grew fiercer with each passing generation, and they grew so fast, from metal pikes’ to weapons capable of turning an entire city to rubble, in only the time it took for one of our newborn to become a grandfather.
Now they have even taken to the great sea of stars in their ships, they are almost unrecognizable from when they landed on that small rock, but while it took their grace and their longevity, it has gifted them ruthlessness and sharpened their minds even more than they already were. We open our arms to our long lost brethren as they return, may they smite our enemies, and may they silence the fearful who say that we have created our own destroyers. | 2014-08-11T06:37:54 | 2014-08-11T04:45:10 | 49 | 27 |
[WP] You swerve to avoid a squirrel. Unknown to you, the squirrel pledges a life debt to you. In your darkest hour, the squirrel arrives.
Edit: Wow, great stories so far! Made the front page too. Obligatory thanks! | Hello. I have come. A life for a life. A nut for a nut.
By saving me, you allowed the revolution to happen. We toppled Regina Scurriorum and have given the nuts back to the scurryer, the hoarder, the scavenger, the worker, and not the opulent ones.
It is time I repayed the debt. It is time you led your people in uprising. You shall lead them. You shall rule them. Me and my people will fight at your side.
So says /u/Evanthesquirrel. King of the squirrels. | "Shit! A squirrel!" I yelp, as I jerk the wheel of my car. Time slows as my car crests the berm at the side of the road and lofts into the woods, striking a girthy oak and cartwheeling into a nearby stream. As I'm thrown free of the car (I'm glad I didn't wear my seatbelt), the last thing I see is a rock in the water. I'm suddenly enveloped in water and feel a sharp pain radiate through my head. That's the last thing I remember for a while. I must have hallucinated while because I swear I heard what sounded like a dozen squirrels chirping as I was dragged free of the water. The 911 operator had no clue who called for help from my phone. No one spoke. The paramedics found me laying in the forest, by the side of the stream, with leaves packed over my head wounds. I don't know who helped me, but I surely would have died without them. The one thing I do know for sure, I'm never going to avoid hitting a squirrel again. It almost killed me last time. | 2015-03-15T14:37:10 | 2015-03-15T14:32:22 | 83 | 25 |
[WP] The universe was a program running in a giant computer, and animal sacrifices by early civilizations were simply a misunderstanding of the computer requiring "more RAM" | The male goat struggled vigorously as it was held down by its captors. They were trying to sate the desires of whatever God was responsible for the sonorous, unearthly voice that echoed across their little valley.
"Memory full. More RAM required."
The priests -- Jerry, Dan, and Carl -- took the thrashing goat up to the highest peak surrounding their home. There they had prepared an altar for the sacrifice.
As Jerry and Dan strapped the goat to the altar, Carl began to whet the ceremonial Knife of Ram-Killing. Suddenly, Dan had a moment of lucidity.
"Hang on guys, we can't kill this thing."
"Why the hell not, Dan?" asked Carl, "do you want to sate God's hunger to ensure a good harvest, or not?"
Dan spread his hands out wide and adopted a "hey, just hear me out" sort of expression.
"No, no, it's not that at all. I want to sate the hunger of the gods just as much as the next guy."
"Then what is it?" asked Jerry, "come on, my wife's got dinner waiting, I told her I'd be back by five. . ."
"It's just this: we're living in an unspecified ancient civilization from one of the earliest points in recorded history, right?"
Jerry nodded.
"Maybe even prehistory," said Carl.
"Right. So we're speaking, I don't even know, some language whose very name might even be lost to man in the year 2015 AD, right?"
"Yeah," said Carl, "though one could presume our words would be translated for the benefit of whatever audience was reading them. And where did you get that calendar system from?"
"Yeah," Jerry added, "Where the hell did you learn to count to more than three, Dan?"
"Why'd you have to go and break the fourth wall, anyway, Dan?" Carl cut in.
Dan looked overwhelmed at the interrogation.
"It's just, I can't bring myself to kill this poor little *ayil* for a pun that doesn't even make sense to me."
| Godwin was an egomaniac. He smiles at the thought of many of the subjects revering him, their creator, as a being of supreme power and intelligence. It was basically true anyway. He was the smartest man in the googleverse by leaps and bounds. Of course, there were mistakes, the lamb, ram debacle. Animal sacrifice was required though as their early ancestors had done it. How some cultures had more RAM roughly translate to human and their sacrifice was a bit more puzzling.
Now, though, this was his greatest achievement. They could see where everything went wrong, where these humans had come from and why they were so dangerous. Other Ramanastians hypothesized it was a religious fervor that explained their spread and destruction, like bacteria overwhelming a body.
The humans probably couldn't fathom it, not truly. Who would ever mistake the universe that surrounded them as a living being. The population was not concerned at first. It was only one man, but, then, others were sick. There was no clue as to how or why the humans spread. So, Godwin, in his infinite wisdom, proposed the program. The program would answer all of their questions.
Now, they were on the cusp. He liked watching them. Over the past few weeks as the humans spread at an exponential rate, he had even started to care about some of them. He watches as the humans conquer intergalactic travel. Then, they conquer inter-dimensional travel. Humans have found an inter-dimensional vector to spread.
Godwin is perplexed, actually concerned. If humans can travel as such, there is no stopping them. They will infect every "universe" until they are all destroyed. He searches for more answers, but quarantine cannot stop this kind of biological infection. The humans advance too quickly for them to combat.
Godwin for the first time in his life has to admit defeat, and that he does not have the answers they are looking for. They could introduce a foreign body into their race to defeat humanity, but this did not work before. If they could find a way to communicate with them, they may be able to live in peace with them. But, fluid in Godwin's nodule builds up, and he coughs to expel it. Humans have spread to his body. He realizes, in all of his infinite wisdom, it will be not long before God is dead.
***
If you enjoyed this prompt, I have a page with more: r/nickkuvaas. | 2015-10-11T08:46:23 | 2015-10-11T08:34:23 | 1,055 | 42 |
[WP] Every day at noon for the past 4 years you've received a phone call asking you to perform some menial task. Today, the voice makes its final request. | "You don't know me, but I need you to do me this one quick favor. Come on, it'll be easy."
"Huh?" I had replied, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
"Come on. It's already noon, sleepyhead! I need you to wake up and face the day. That's it. That's all."
"Who..."
"Yep! Just like that! Thanks!"
*click*
"Huh."
_____________________
When the second call came the next day, I considered not picking up.
"Oh good, you're up! I have another request."
"Who the hell are you, and how did you get my number?"
"I already *told* you, I'm a perfect stranger. So here's the deal. Write one paragraph. About anything. You wanted to be an author, right?"
"But-"
"Thanks!"
*click*
___________
I never found out who was making those calls. I guess it never really mattered, anyway. I wasn't being stalked. I wasn't in any danger. And here I was, with someone giving a shit about how I spent my waking hours.
One paragraph became one page. Three pages. Ten pages. One chapter. Write. Edit. Start over. Repeat. Submit to publisher. Try again.
Four years, and six failed stories later, I received a call from a publisher about lucky number seven. He wanted to talk business.
I was over the moon when the call ended. And then another came, right on schedule.
"YEAH! You did it, didn't you? You worked your ass off, and you finally did it! Alright. That means my work here is done. But I have just one last request. You got a pen? Let me tell you about a guy named Richard Green. He lives in Vancouver, and he wants to get into medical school. Here's his phone number..."
| I tried to ignore the ringing. It felt like it was inside my head. That shrill, high pitched ringtone that just would not stop. I knew exactly who was calling. No one else ever called anymore. Everyone else was dead. I did not even know how a cellphone could have still been working. Especially all the way out here.
I had been tortured for four long years. And I never even released what they had been doing. The had used me as an instrument of the apocalypse. I had built the device that had caused the decimation of mankind. And now I was the last one left in a world that had gone completely insane.
The ringing was threatening to explode my brain. Who could possibly have been calling? The lab that I was sitting in was the only place that had been shielded from the device. It was no longer possible for life to exist at all outside of the lab. I gathered my resolve that I would ask them, that I would find out what was going on. I reached into the left pocket of my lab-coat. Why was I even wearing one in the first place? I answered the phone and placed it against my left ear and said: "Who are you?"
The reply came in the same monotonous unemotional voice as every other day:
"The day has finally come for all of this to end"
"I don't care what you want, just tell me who you are!"
"You are now the only living human remaining, your final task is to kill yourself"
"What? No! I refuse to do so without knowing who you are"
"There is a gun in your right hand, use it"
I had not realized that I had walked over to my desk and taken the gun out of my drawer. It was loaded and cocked. I raised it unthinkingly to my temple.
"Please, before I do this, just tell me who you are?"
"Is it not obvious? I am you, I have been you all along"
It was like a light had just been switched on inside of my head. I lowered my left hand from my ear slowly, and looked at it. It was empty. I started o laugh maniacally. And then I pulled the trigger
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I have not written in the first person in years. Please be gentle.
If you like my writing you can find more [here](https://georgedrakestories.wordpress.com/) I just launched the site today, so will post more on Monday | 2015-12-18T01:15:03 | 2015-12-17T23:57:14 | 30 | 13 |
[WP] The Islamic State is wiped out by a totally unexpected country in a totally unexpected way. | PARIS (AP) Leaders from 42 countries gathered in the French capital Tuesday to thank the police detective who singlehandedly defeated the terrorist group known as ISIS.
Inspector Jacques Clouseau still seemed a little dazed from his ordeal in Syria, saying only "I do not know who zis ISIS person is, I am just glad ze Pink Panther is returned safely."
Clouseau traveled to Syria last month in pursuit of the famed jewel.
Reports on the incident may never be complete, but captured ISIS militants from destroyed bases in the region indicated destroyed weapons stockpiles, large fires, infighting and in one case, a base leader crushed to death by a falling piano ultimately lead to the total collapse of the organization and the surrender of the few surviving members.
Clouseau was awarded high honors from several nations including the US and his own France.
He was also awarded a cash prize large enough to retire from police work forever, on the condition that he retire from police work forever. | "For many years now, the Islamic State has been a thorn in the side of the Middle East," the President told Congress. "Carving out territory from Syria, Iraq, Turkey, and Lebanon. Though many nations, including the United States, took *limited* action against this threat, no country was willing to finally commit to cleaning up this scourge, until *now*."
The President gestured to the man to his right, a quiet black man wearing a a dark suit and a red tie. "My good friend, King Mswati, has ended this threat once and for all. His military's effectiveness has been unprecedented, and the finally stronghold of Al Raqqa was liberated only a short month ago!"
The assembled Congressmen all clapped and cheered.
"So," the President continued. "It is with great honor that I present this Congressional Medal of Freedom, given for meritorious contribution to the security or national interests of the United States, to King Mswati of Sweden!!"
The room erupted into applause, but the king looked uncertain. He glanced around like he was waiting for some sort of cue. Finally he approached the microphone. "Err, sorry, Mr. President. I'm actually from *Swaziland.*"
The President stepped back up to the microphone. "Sorry, King Mswati. My mistake, and thank you again to you and the rest of the great people of Switzerland!!" | 2016-01-29T07:27:42 | 2016-01-29T06:30:22 | 1,067 | 481 |
[WP] The Islamic State is wiped out by a totally unexpected country in a totally unexpected way. | PARIS (AP) Leaders from 42 countries gathered in the French capital Tuesday to thank the police detective who singlehandedly defeated the terrorist group known as ISIS.
Inspector Jacques Clouseau still seemed a little dazed from his ordeal in Syria, saying only "I do not know who zis ISIS person is, I am just glad ze Pink Panther is returned safely."
Clouseau traveled to Syria last month in pursuit of the famed jewel.
Reports on the incident may never be complete, but captured ISIS militants from destroyed bases in the region indicated destroyed weapons stockpiles, large fires, infighting and in one case, a base leader crushed to death by a falling piano ultimately lead to the total collapse of the organization and the surrender of the few surviving members.
Clouseau was awarded high honors from several nations including the US and his own France.
He was also awarded a cash prize large enough to retire from police work forever, on the condition that he retire from police work forever. | "Liechtenstein? Really? How the hell did Liechtenstein take out ISIS? And who the hell *is* Liechtenstein?"
President Trump's face was beet red. General Bundy's hands shook as he recited the relevant facts: small, German-speaking mountain principality on the Austrian border.
"So how'd they do it? This had better sound at least as good as your, "Bomb them back to the Carboniferous Period and take their oil" strategy, or..." the Donald's famous hair shook as he delivered his catchphrase, "You're Fired!"
General Bundy gulped. There was no good way to deliver the news. "You see, Mr. President, they joined your coalition and sent fourteen soldiers, and they made a friend over there."
"A friend?!"
"But that was just the beginning. That friend went back and made two friends. And those two went back and each made two more, and so on and so forth... until after a few months, everyone in Iraq and Syria had pen pals in Europe, and had reorganized their countries on EU lines."
"Well, General, I can't really... oh screw it. YOU'RE FIRED!"
General Bundy walked out without a word. He sighed, reached into his pocket for his smartphone and dialed the Liechtensteiner embassy. "Hi... Yes. I need a friend. Yes. Thank you. I'll be right over."
Edit: Closed quotes, corrected a typo, and replaced "Liechtensteinean" with proper form | 2016-01-29T07:27:42 | 2016-01-29T06:57:30 | 1,067 | 190 |
[WP] The Islamic State is wiped out by a totally unexpected country in a totally unexpected way. | PARIS (AP) Leaders from 42 countries gathered in the French capital Tuesday to thank the police detective who singlehandedly defeated the terrorist group known as ISIS.
Inspector Jacques Clouseau still seemed a little dazed from his ordeal in Syria, saying only "I do not know who zis ISIS person is, I am just glad ze Pink Panther is returned safely."
Clouseau traveled to Syria last month in pursuit of the famed jewel.
Reports on the incident may never be complete, but captured ISIS militants from destroyed bases in the region indicated destroyed weapons stockpiles, large fires, infighting and in one case, a base leader crushed to death by a falling piano ultimately lead to the total collapse of the organization and the surrender of the few surviving members.
Clouseau was awarded high honors from several nations including the US and his own France.
He was also awarded a cash prize large enough to retire from police work forever, on the condition that he retire from police work forever. | American efforts against ISIS had failed. ISIS had toppled local governments and taken them over. Claiming most of the Middle East. Many countries themselves had made agreements with ISIS in order to try to secure themselves so that they would not be toppled as well.
America was the last to stay in the fight, but American government had finally decided on a full retreat. The retreat would happen the next day, and Platoon 608 was the last ditch effort. This was an assassination attempt on the ISIS leaders.
Platoon 608 stood on top of a building in the new ISIS capital, where nearby a speech was being given. They were lined up to be a firing squad, it was a suicide mission.
As the Platoon sat there, hoping that they could maybe make it out of this alive. They heard a clapping. They figured the speech must have been over. But an hour later there was still clapping, and it has immensely grown in volume.
The major ordered them to stay where they were with their scopes in place, they were not to move. Eventually one of them gave in to the curiosity, and looked towards the direction of the clapping.
What he saw left him frozen in shock. There were atleast 100,000 men on horses, and they wore the maple leaf and guns. The clapping had been the horses drawing near. They all wore the insignia of the Maple Leaf.
The Canadian Calvary had arrived.
| 2016-01-29T07:27:42 | 2016-01-29T06:44:06 | 1,067 | 25 |
[WP] 8 minutes after the Sun goes out, we still have light. We later realize that the Sun was not the source of the light and heat that has sustained the Earth for so long. | It was a day like no other. Nobody expected the sun to go out today. After millions of years the, presumably, best source for the earth was the sun. But now it's gone. When you look at the sky you don't see the bright yellow circle that was always there.
The last few seconds have been extremely strange. About half the world saw the sun explode. It was a firework show I had never seen before. I was scared. If there was anything I learned from watching space documentaries it was that an exploding star spreads a ton of atoms. And they were heading our way.
As I saw people running around on the street I couldn't help but notice this strange feeling of warmth. I was assuming there would be a lack of warmth, but really the air was now getting warmer. "Must be the explosion", I thought.
Eventually, I started sweating. This heat was unbearable. Looking at the sky I could just see clouds, the moon and the debris from the explosion.
It got hotter. People started screaming. I feel like this was the worst case scenario that everybody could have imagined. I saw people taking of their clothes because of the heat. I needed to get out of here.
The earth started to warm up, I could feel it. News broadcasts from around the world all reported the same thing. I grabbed my phone from my pocket and felt a hot feeling in my hand. I dropped it straight away. It felt like my phone was boiling.
As I looked down at my phone I saw an image of an old man. I looked around. Now everybody was looking at their phone. I heard someone yell "It's Steve!". I was really confused and looked back at my phone again.
It was indeed Steve.. Steve Jobs. His face was on my screen. I looked at my phone with a huge feeling of confusion. Then it started moving. Steve's face started moving. He opened his mouth. He was saying words. I sat down and flicked the switch on my phone to turn the sound on.
"Humans", he said. "Today was predicted by our team of scientists a few years ago. The sun is dead." What the hell, I thought this guy was dead. "Around that time I decided to disappear to be able to work on a solution without being disturbed or causing chaos."
"Luckily we had found a way to produce sun light and heat a long time ago.", he proceeded.
"The phone you are looking at right now is currently helping to produce the right amount of heat for our planet. Yes, it's too hot right now, but within a few hours our systems and your phones will have turned into little suns."
I looked around. Everybody was just looking at their phones.
"This means two things: from now on your phone cannot be used for anything else except for iSolar. This is a newly launched piece of software that will allow all phones to be connected and to create the heat that is necessary for our planet."
"Thank you for listening in, I had a good time working on this project", Steve looked at the screen and smiled.
"Oh yeah... One more thing...", I looked around and heard people laugh. Classic Steve.
"In order to create the sunlight we have spread iLights into the atmosphere. This is needed for life on earth to keep living; from apple trees to leopards. Thank you.", Steve smiled again.
Again I looked around. People were just confused. This wasn't a great explanation of what was really happening. It just frightened us.
"Oh, one more thing...", he said again. "Goddamnit Steve!", people yelled.
"Within 2 weeks we will be launching our own iSun into space. This allows us to recreate the entire sun. Prices for iSun will start at $95 a day per household. iSun is amazing. It's revolutionary. It will truly change the world. Get your subscription now and get the most out of iSun by Apple." | "So this is how it ends..."
Adrian thought to himself, gazing defeatedly out his window. He was an astronomer who had been monitoring the feed from one of his satellites pointed at the Sun as it went out. One day he was looking at the satellite's feed and the sun just vanished. The source of warmth and light for the planet was gone in an instant, and there was nothing he could do, not even warn anyone. His own satellite was less than five light-seconds from the surface of the earth, and the signal reached him more slowly than sunlight traveled anyway. By the time he turned to look out the window it had already happened. Humanity was about to die.
And all Adrian could do was wait.
He sat back in his chair, taking one last look around his office before succumbing to the enclosing coldness of space on the exposed, helpless world. His eyes wandered around the tiny room, stopping in the corner of his bookshelf where there lay an old, dusty Bible.
Remembering those stories from his youth recalled a glimmer of hope to his mind. Perhaps they were true all along, he thought. Perhaps this isn't the end, and there is a life after this one after all.
"Come on, now," he stopped himself. "That's no way for a scientist to think. Just because I'm facing the end of my life, there's no need to do away with everything I've learned." He tried to remember, as if to prove it to himself. That book may have been hopeful, but it wasn't true - it was filled with contradictions and inaccuracies from the very beginning. It even taught that there was light on the earth before the Sun was created.
Instinctively he looked back up through the window. That clearly wasn't the case. Now that the Sun was gone, it was as dark as any moonless night, and it would stay that way forever. After the little heat trapped by the atmosphere dissipated, he and everyone else would be dead.
He waited a minute. He was still there.
He waited another. And then another.
Seven minutes passed. Fifteen since the Sun had gone out.
He could still hear people screaming in terror outside.
He got up from his chair and went over to the window.
He didn't see a thick layer of frost reflecting his office light like he was expecting.
Instead he saw the mountains and villages around the observatory - faintly illuminated, to be sure, but there was no doubt: Light was touching them for miles around.
Adrian was dumbfounded.
Without the sun, the moon had no light to reflect.
His office light was framed by his tiny window, far too small even to cast light on the next mountain over.
Even the stars were blocked out by the gigantic cloud that was formed by the sudden drop in temperature.
And that cloud was illuminated from below, by the earth.
Adrian could think of only one explanation. For as long as humans had studied and measured sunlight, we had all but ignored that directionless light that seems to reach everywhere, even in shadows, and brighten them slightly. We always assumed it to be rays of sunlight that had been reflected off of things so many times that, seen all together, they became untraceable and directionless.
It turns out that some of that light didn't come from the Sun at all.
It was just there, as if it had been created there.
After all, directionless light is difficult to measure accurately. In fact, we had probably always measured it and chalked it up to experimental error.
But Adrian realized that now that we knew about it, everything we thought about science and the physical world would have to change.
Humans themselves would have to change in order to live. This light was almost too dim to make out the sky from the land, and the heat that it generated was not enough to take the planet out of perpetual winter. Even plants and animals would end up changing. But at least now we had a little energy that might be enough to keep us alive.
The end of the Sun was a new beginning for everything on the earth, and Adrian had no idea what it would mean for the world. But he knew exactly what it meant for him.
He took the book from the shelf, sat down, and began to read.
"In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth...
And God said, 'Let there be light,' and there was light.
And God saw that the light was good..."
[Edit: Words out of place] | 2016-06-15T01:05:30 | 2016-06-14T19:35:10 | 27 | 15 |
[WP] "If you plan on going somewhere dangerous, bring a human" | **REMINDER**
A reminder to all visitors to this system. This system marks the end of the Counsel's jurisdiction. From here, Counsel Military and Security can not reach you and thus can no longer provide protection to you or your property.
If you are going somewhere marked as "Dangerous", we recommend bringing a guide with you, preferably a Human species guide. Please see reference below to give you a brief overview of the Human species, as well as a tutorial on how to handle them. Press here.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Humans (homo sapien sapien): Humans were discovered in the 367th Year of the Galactic Unity. While at first a hostile enemy of the Counsel, they soon were pacified with the Outer Arms Agreements. The largest exchange of territory to any one species in Counsel history. Since then, Humans have lived peacefully among the galaxy and are some of the greatest pioneers and adventurers in the name of the Counsel. Discovering new systems, worlds, and expanding the Counsel's reach at an unprecedented rate.
Because of their innate to desire to conquer and explore, along with their advanced weapon manufacturing, hostility and rapid healing factor, they are ideal for guides through "Dangerous" areas. If you decide to travel outside Counsel Jurisdiction, here are the steps you should take to recruit a human guide.
1. Approach human territories carefully, and timidly. Humans react violently to quick and sudden inter-species interaction.
2. Have funds immediately ready to deposit. While the Human governments are easy to negotiate with, average humans are distrustful, and will demand compensation upon agreement.
3. DO NOT DISOBEY THE ORDERS OF YOUR GUIDE! Humans can be irrational, distrustful and most of all, extremely violent. For you, and your party's safety, the Counsel recommends following exact orders from a Human guide.
4. Finally, be safe. While human's may pose their own assortment of threats, so do "Dangerous" areas. The unexplored wilderness of space has many threats and even more threats unbeknownst to anyone. Stay safe. To quote a common, and ancient phrase of the Humans; The night is dark, and full of terrors. | ######[](#dropcap)
Faith Alathir laughed, and motioned to the figure standing in the corner.
"That's why I have him."
Hilary Flint glanced up from his knife sharpening, whetstone in one hand and bayonet in the other. His worn rifle was slung over a shoulder, its leather strap notched with kill marks; far more than any man could hope to achieve in their lifetime.
"The Death Zone isn't that dangerous to someone who knows where the anomalies and hotspots are. Sure, there's places that'll melt the skin off your flesh, or asphyxiate you to death in your sleep. And there's just some places where you'll be dead before you even know you're in trouble. If what we're looking for is in the city we'll find it."
The older Fae almost sneered. "You seem very certain. What makes you so sure it's still there?"
"On account that I've seen it with my own eyes. On account that our enemies are still searching for it. And on account that I said so. I work for the girl, not for you. Now you're gonna fund this expedition -in full- or else the girl and I will go to the next eager noble and offer them the same deal. She offered you terms, and more generous ones then I'd ever give. If I had the choice, we'd just cut your throat open and take what is rightly ours. But the girl has other opinions. We want two thousand guilders, as well as all those items on the list we gave you. In return you get twenty-five percent of the profits."
The Elf now sneered, his eyes haughty as he spoke. "If there's one satisfaction about you *Scathalith,* it's that sooner or later you're all dead. You only have to suffer an insolent Man fifty or sixty years before they trouble you no more."
Flint's smile was anything but warm.
"Not all of us. The stubborn ones... the good ones, they tend to stick around. And their blades tend to stick in others. Twenty-five. Our final offer"
A long silence hung over the room, dreadful and suffocating in noise's absence.
"...Your pet drives a harder bargain than you, my Lady. A shame he's a rude beast with no understanding of manners. Had he been born a Fae I'm sure he'd be much more civilized."
Faith laughed again, pleasant as chimes in the wind.
"He's my protector, my little wolf. I fear nothing with him and his sword by my side. And this wolf's fangs are sharp." | 2016-06-19T12:42:38 | 2016-06-19T12:36:00 | 388 | 19 |
[WP] "Please remember, TSA rules prohibit bottles of liquid over three ounces, knife blades over two inches, and the use of spells, curses, scrolls or other magic beyond the security checkpoint." | TSA Guard Extended Guidelines
1) Maintain an orderly queue at all times.
2) Maintain your composure in front of passengers at all times, especially during a crisis.
3) Your standard taser and entrapment spells should only be used in a true emergency.
3.1) A person shouting swear words is not an emergency unless he is speaking in a Satanic dialect.
3.2) Spells from Harry Potter are fictional and are not a real Satanic dialect.
3.3) Foos-row-dah is not a real Satanic dialect either.
3.4) ~~Greek is not a Satanic dialect.~~As of 2053/3/4, permission is given to apprehend anyone speaking Greek.
4) All potential contraband must pass through the X-ray scanner, followed by the latent-mana scanner and be declared clear of contraband before given back to the passenger.
4.1) Should either scanner fail, close the gateway and direct passengers to other open gateways.
4.2) Tampering with either of the scanners is prohibited.
4.3) Do not under any circumstances tamper with the latent-mana scanner.
4.4) Any employee found tampering with the latent-mana scanner repeatedly will be fed to the latent-mana scanner after hours.
5) All contraband must be confiscated and stored in the provided hidden bin away from civilians. Refer to the contraband book~~let~~ for a complete list of contraband definitions.
5.1) Do not steal contraband for personal use.
~~5.2) All bins must be curse-proofed.~~
~~5.3) All bins must be soundproofed.~~
5.2) Spell pages must be shredded before being disposed in the bin.
5.3) Wear your curse-proofed gloves at all times while handling potential contraband.
5.4) Your curse-proofed gloves do not "double as boxing gloves".
5.5) Remove your curse-proofed gloves before dealing with burning people as they are highly flammable.
6) All liquids must be confiscated while they are contained within the container they fill.
6.1) Do not under any circumstances steal liquids that are contraband for personal use.
6.2) Drinking unknown liquids that are contraband to hide evidence is a very bad idea and is therefore prohibited.
7) It bears repeating: Maintain your composure in front of passengers at all times, especially during a crisis.
8) The interrogation room should only be used if suspicion of terrorism is justifiable
8.1) The interrogation room should not be used as a threat to unruly civilians.
8.2) Use the specialized fireproof interrogation room if necessary.
9) Racial slurs and harmful language are prohibited while working.
9.1) Yes, we understand one of your coworkers is now part-bee. Don't think we don't hear the name "Buzzy boy" in the cafeteria.
9.2) And "Goggles".
9.3) And "Boaty McBoat-Face".
10) Unnecessary searching of passengers is strictly prohibited.
10.1) This includes telekinetic searches.
10.2) Our full-body scanners should detect any foreign objects within any of the passenger's orifices.
10.3) For f*** sake stop feeling up the passengers!
11) Do not make eye contact with passengers without proper safety gear.
11.1) We are working on making the safety gear less bulky. Stop complaining about it.
11.2) Do not mock rock mages with the safety gear.
11.3) Do not mock basilisks with the safety gear.
11.4) Do not mock living statues with the safety gear.
11.4) Stop mocking people with the safety gear.
12) Wash you hands after using the bathroom.
All further inquiries must be directed to the High Management's ~~Office~~ Secretary's Office. Thank you for your time.
TSA | Nathan shouldered his worn leather backpack and waited patiently in the line. The security checkpoint was moving glacially slow, as usual, these damn lines were the worst part about traveling.
"Laptops, shoes, cellphones, wands, spell books, they all have to go in the bin and on the conveyor belt," the grumpy TSA agent said again for probably the tenth time since he had been in line. Nathan's turn finally arrived and he placed his shoes and backpack onto the conveyor belt and stepped through the metal detector. The small lights flashed red and it buzzed. The TSA agent made him turn around and check his pockets again. He ran his hands over himself checking for anything that could have set it off and found nothing. The agent waved him through again and again, the detector went off.
"We're going to need you to step aside sir," the agent said and motioned for another larger agent to help. The large man placed his hand Nathan's back and guided him to a side room. He shoved him into a small windowless room and closed the door behind him. *Dammit.*
"Please sit down Archibold."
The person using his real name took him by surprise.
"Excuse me? My name is Nathan," he replied.
"Sure it is," the man in a neatly tailored black suit said from behind the small metal table in the center of the room.
"We've been trying to catch you for some time now Archibold."
"I'm not sure who this Archibold person is, but I assure you I'm not him."
"Well maybe you will recognize your other name? The Cavern?" he asked staring at Nathan, waiting for a reaction.
The emotion spell he had cast earlier was still holding strong, his face was an emotionless mask.
"What the hell is that supposed to be me?" he asked.
"We know you are smuggling spells and black magic for the Syndicate. We know you are their best, but you can stop with the lies, it's becoming insulting," he said calmly and snapped his fingers.
Nathan felt his spells break apart, the emotion spell, confidence spell, strength, everything. The once young confident man that was standing there had been replaced with a rat faced shifty looking man in his mid thirties.
"That's more like it," the man in the suit said as he rose from behind the desk.
"Now, this is going to get personal, and very uncomfortable," he said calmly.
A young blonde woman in a pants suit and a muscular bald man in a matching black suit entered the room. The woman looked a little nervous and she glanced from the man in the suit to The Cavern.
"Did you bring your gloves Melissa?" the man in the suit asked.
"Yes, sir," Melissa said pulling out a pair of white latex gloves.
"Do you know why they call him The Cavern?" he asked.
"No, sir."
"Well, this enterprising disgusting man, has figured out how to cast a dimensional pocket spell in, well...how do I put this politely?"
"His ass," the large bald man cut in.
"Well so much for politeness."
"And you want me to?" Melissa asked.
"Retrieve the stolen spell book of the Kazadun."
Melissa pulled on the latex gloves with a snap as the large bald man held The Cavern down.
"No! Wait, I'll talk, I'll tell you anything. I don't have the book," the Cavern began to beg.
"Where is the book?"
"The Warlock didn't want it flown, too dangerous. So he sent me as a decoy. The book is being driven to-to-to....TOOOOO!!" the Cavern began to scream as his flesh turned red and pulsed and began to swell. The man in the black suit took a step to his side and stood behind the large bald man.
The Cavern screamed a final time before his body exploded in a splash of gore and blood.
Melissa wiped pieces of the Cavern from her face and whispered, "thank god for that."
The man in the suit stepped out from behind the bald man, his suit Cavern free.
"Well, back to square one then. You two are now with me," he said.
"Who are you?" Melissa asked.
"Special Agent Maze. Get cleaned up and meet me out front, we have to get the book before it reaches the Syndicate."
---
Thanks for reading! Check out /r/Written4Reddit | 2016-07-08T06:53:20 | 2016-07-08T06:12:00 | 34 | 13 |
[WP] After gaining the ability to see everyone's red strings of fate tying soul mates to each other. You realize your string extends past the sky. | As a child, I had long supposed my soulmate had died and that my string was linked to whoever it was up in heaven. It was a reassuring thing to my religious beliefs, but that was then.
Now, 35 years later, I find myself walking on metal grates, suspended high in the air. A decade of training and a whole lot of good luck. I'm nervous.
"Captain Robin! Hey! You ready to go?" It was Jimi.
"Oh, hi, Jimi. Yeah, just looking out into the clouds."
It was at this point when I noticed Jimi's string again. I knew he had been fortunate and had married his soulmate. The tragedy of it all was that he didn't really know that his wife had two strings. I didn't even know that was possible until I met her. Funny how the universe works.
At the start of the space race of 2020, we had never dreamed that just 10 years later we would man a mission to Mars. It was an astounding display of international cooperation: Russians supporting Indians supporting the Chinese to develop their space programs. A few groups had already left for the ISS a few years back and had pioneered things like childbirth in space.
"Captain, you ready to go now?" Jimi inquired.
We entered the towering craft and started our checklists. Mostly routine by now: check the oxygen, food, sensors, then flip a few switches and press a few buttons. Nothing either of us hadn't done before.
"All clear, Captain."
"Roger. Ready for takeoff."
As we initiated launch, I looked up into the sky, a faint red string piercing the deep blue above. Maybe, just maybe, we'd find out what that was tied to. | I looked to the sky once more, my string reached far beyond the view of the naked eye. I grew depressed each time, seeing others around me finding love while I sit here with my curse.
I was in school, bored out of my mind. My ability had one advantage though, it helped provide distractions at times like these. Some students had their red strings extend to someone in this very room, some people's strings ran across oceans and mountains.
Seeing everyone else fall in love, or have the honour of learning of their true love someday always made me think about what I was missing. Knowing that the girl I liked was not the one was heartbreaking, and especially that mine was always beyond my grasp.
Anyways back to class, today I saw two soulmates at school meet up for the first time, it was love at first sight, I should of felt happy for them but all I felt was a sick twisting feeling in my stomach. Something I knew I never could have. At the moment of realization, I realized I had enough, I had to know, I had to find out who they were, who my soulmate was.
I rushed home went straight to Amazon and bought the best telescope I could afford. This may not work but perhaps I can finally get a better glimpse of what my destiny is.
I waited a few days for the package, I could barely even hold my anticipation. I knew that the chance of finding anything was slim, but I still had a sliver of hope that kept me going.
It finally arrived, I unboxed the telescope and rushed with the parts to my backyard to assemble. It was already night when I had finished and my parents weren't home yet to hassle me about it. I pressed my left eye to the lens and peered along my string.
Nothing yet. I set the zoom progressively higher and higher till I actual caught a faint glimmer of something on the end of the string. Eureka! I zoomed in all the way and found a blurry circle covering the view.
I focused the lens, a moment later I wished that I hadn't, in my view, at the end of my red string was a red and purple dragon, at that moment I realized I was donkey from Shrek.
Sorry about that, I couldn't think of anything better. | 2016-08-05T21:58:57 | 2016-08-05T21:22:31 | 29 | 15 |
[WP] Valhalla does not discriminate against the kind of fight you lost. Did you lose the battle with cancer? Maybe you died in a fist fight. Even facing addiction. After taking a deep drink from his flagon, Odin slams his cup down and asks for the glorious tale of your demise! | After listening to grand deeds of everyone at the massive table, Odin slammed his jug down, sending mead in a sputtering fountain. His good eye squinted and his finger pointed at me.
“Your turn, newbie!” he roared. “What’s your glorious battle?”
The room was suddenly quiet and all faces turned towards me. I had the attention of war veterans, freedom fighters, vigilantes, and most of Asgard. I had heard their tales of grandeur, of their strides, and their final battles, and now the time had come for me, a lowly register attendant at Wallmart, to justify my place amongst these heroes.
“Right,” I said, standing up. I was so fucked. “Uhm, okay, so…”
“Go on,” Thor shouted from his place next to Odin. He threw up his jug and smashed it to splinters with his hammer. “Let’s hear it!”
And at that moment I thought, ‘fuck it!’ and cleared my throat.
“It was a night in icy January – the winds were so cold that all the animals had died in the woods. I thundered down the road on my steed of blazing metal, stopping for nobody!”
In reality, it had been a mild winter but the news reported a few birds dying to some virus. My steed was, in fact, an old rusty Buick, and I had accidentally driven through a red light.
“I parked… err, I mean left, my trusted steed in the stables of a tavern notorious for its villainous patrons. See, I needed a drink after the long strenuous ride.”
Nods of approval could be seen around the room.
“After a few rounds, I ventured back outside in the blistering cold. Things were getting heated and I required my weapon.”
I had accidentally spilled my drink on a lady and needed to write her a check for dry cleaning.
“That’s when I saw it, a message written in blood,” I said lowering my voice to a whisper. “It was more than a challenge – a declaration of war – and at that moment I swore on my honor that I was going to see the battle to the end.”
I died the same night from a heart attack while writing a lengthy letter to the local government, attempting to fight the parking ticket.
| (I know I am a little late. But I saw the prompt and needed to write this for a dearly departed friend).
Odin orders another horn to quench his throat as laughter fills Valhalla. But even though this he hears the creaking of the great doors and rises slowly. As he makes his way down the table voices change from laughter to murmurs. He pats the backs of warrior and king, goddess and queen alike as he moves through the room trying to keep spirits high, but they all turn as he moves past.
The old king finally making his way to the newest table and the great door before pausing. Holding his breath for a moment as he passes a table of Marines and guardsmen speaking with fire rescue and police. But his hand settles on the table as a silver headed woman enters.
It was not new for shield maidens to fall in great battles and other woman warriors had entered the doors before, but this one gave him pause. Her eyes were stronger than her arms and her gaze told him of craft and cunning.
A sailor nudged him with a tankard and he glanced down with a grin, taking it from him. He then strode forth with long steps, each one echoed with the hammering of fists and tankards against tables. Upon reaching the woman he put forth the mug. "Speak to us, warrior, and tell us of your glorious death".
She gave him a sideways glance and shook her head. "No Or Father, not today. For my foe does deserves no glory for its fight. For I fought with it for years, day and night. Our battle never ending. And from here on forth, I will only tell the tale of my time! And never of the beast that took me".
Odin gazed at her, seeing the golden glow of glory and feeling the warriors beat. He smiled broadly and asked. "The call it's name now, and never speak of it again." His voice boomed over the tables and shook the stones for it was law.
She drew in a deep breath and stared down Odin. "Cancer..." She said exhaling in an almost death granting hiss. Her face tightening with anger and anguish causing even Odin to step back for a moment.
"Then so seal it." He handed her the tankard and watched her drink. As the amber liquid dripped down her face voices rang out in cheer, songs erupted and laughter resumed. Odin threw his arm around her small body and walked with her to a table. She glanced up and said, as they sat "But I will say... It was a hell of a ride."
(Its hard to write through tears. And harder yet to sum up the beauty of someone taken too young so simply. But thank you for the prompt, I think it helped tonight.) | 2022-10-21T23:29:50 | 2016-10-31T15:10:47 | 327 | 27 |
[WP] When you die the afterlife is an arena where you face every insect and animal you killed in your life. If you win you go to heaven, lose you go to hell. Your job was an exterminator on earth. | "So, basically, you have to re-kill everything you've killed, all at once. That's gonna suck for you, Mr. Exterminator."
I go out into the arena. There's a countdown.
10, 9, 8, 7, 6-
"GOOD LUCK, YOU FILTHY MURDERER!"
3, 2, 1, GO!!!
A door opened up on the other side of the arena. The crowd waited anxiously... then booed, disappointed. Only a few spiders crawled out of the door.
"I thought you said you were an exterminator! What the hell?" they shout, outraged.
"Yeah, but I was a really shitty one."
| 3,000 years have I been fighting.
Every morning, the raccoons scratch at my eyes. Every evening, the skunks spray me while the opossums chew at my feet. I have never had any tools. I have only my hands. I don’t remember the place I came from before this. All I remember is the daily fight between me and these animals. No matter how many times I kill them, they come back the next day. No matter how many times I’ve ripped them limb from limb, they are here for their appointment the next day just as eager to tear me apart. They want my body to be destroyed beyond recognition, and most days they succeed.
When I wake up in the morning, all my wounds from the day before are gone. Not even a scratch on my little toe. Why do these animals want to hurt me so bad? What have I done to deserve this fate? All I know anymore is fighting. The struggle. But we aren’t struggling for a purpose, we’re just here. No one else has ever peered in to our forest, no Devil, no God. Just myself, and a million animals who want nothing more than to see me dead.
But I can’t die.
I’ve tried.
| 2017-04-24T01:48:58 | 2017-04-23T23:39:59 | 35 | 26 |
[WP] To your surprise, a SWAT team breaks down your door, rushes inside, and surrounds you. Only, their backs are to you, guns trained on the doors and windows. The closest one whispers, "Here they come." | The first shots destroyed my bedroom window. I was surrounded by the black of Kevlar and gun metal. The smell of hot copper stung my nose. I instinctively fell to the ground and frantically squirmed under my bed. I couldn't see any more than black boots around my bed and I couldn't hear more than yells and rapid gunfire. I heard a man yell about a surge to the west and another to the south. More gunfire, more yelling, more confusion and panic! As the gunfire seemed to lull I wondered what they were shooting and why. Why am I being protected? Why my home? What did I do? Was I a part of some secret government project involving my absent family? Was I legion?
The swat team members but one left my bedroom. From their voices I could tell they were looking for something. The one still in my room yelled to me "where's the baby!? We need to secure the baby!" I stared at him blankly... what baby?
He grabbed my arm and dragged me out from under the bed and stood me up. "Where's the baby?!" He yelled again. Seeing fear and anger in his eyes I stared to panic again. "I don't have a baby!" I yelled back, more of a scream.
Another swat member entered my room behind me, "no baby, sir. And another surge is incoming". The man holding my by my arms shakes me and yells again "WHERES THE BABY!?" "I DONT KNOW!" "WHERES THE BABY!? THEYRE GOING TO KILL US ALL! WHERES THE BABY!!?"
"I DONT KNOW!!!!" I screamed and cried and soiled myself out of sheer panic. "I don't know I don't know I don't know..." I expected death, but I heard laughter. The men in black, the swat team surrounding me, were all laughing.
The swat leader crouched down, smiled at me, pointed at my chest and said, "here's the baby"
| I sat in my lab flipping through my journal. The hum of my sunlamps filling the unnaturally quiet evening. I had taken quite a liking to my new found hobby, my love of plants had finally manifested to something worth while. I looked over at my newest plant and took notes on the development. "Two days and already at maturity!" I exclaimed as I noticed the large potatoes already grown around the base. A perfect hybrid that could help the food shortage our country was experiencing. I smiled and closed my journal, placing it safely inside my satchel. I was ready to head back to the house and enjoy the rest of my evening.
I walked up the stairs to the main floor of my greenhouse, plants surrounding me on all sides. The smell was wonderful as I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I opened my eyes and fixed on the lights approaching towards the large glass door in front of me fast. I blinked in confusion as the door shattered and SWAT team members swarmed around me. Multiple took up positions all around as I attempted to process the situation. I felt the grip around my shoulder as I was rushed towards the open door, not knowing where I was going. A bright flash and a deafening noise filled the air as one of the men fell hard to the floor next to us.
"We're too late, here they come." Whispered the man holding me. Gunfire erupted everywhere around me as I was pushed to the floor. In a daze, I looked all around as Officers fell to the ground, some scrabbling back up towards cover, others gone. Plants shattered all around as tables were over turned and glass panes broken out. The radio of the downed Officer next to me crackled, "Package not secure, team one ineffective." I felt another hand grab my shirt as I was dragged across the floor. More Officers fell as bullets streamed across my greenhouse.
I looked up right as the Officer dragging me went down. He hit the floor with a loud thud as an unnatural silence fell. I took deep breaths as I looked around, dead Officers lay all around me, rifles and tactical gear scattered as streams of red flowed down the drains in the floor. I began to feel my stomach turn as I snapped back to reality, a radio crackled again in the back ground, "Team 1 Respond. Team 1 Respond..." I began to drag myself into a corner as I heard glass break off to my side. I turned my head right as a bag pulled tightly over me, obstructing my vision. I felt a harsh crack against my forehead as everything went dark. | 2017-06-28T09:44:48 | 2017-06-28T09:37:14 | 48 | 32 |
[WP] A zombie apocalypse occurs, where people retain characteristics they had while living. You, as the sole survivor, meet a snobby, vegan zombie who turns their nose up at you. | The worst are the crossfitters.
The world ends, the virus spreads, and you'd think all those damn gym junkies would stop working out and hide out in the woods with the rest of the preppers.
Turns out, exercise is pretty important to them, even after they get infected. Nobody paid attention to the signs telling you to wipe down the equipment before and after using it, and now they paid the price. The only thing they gained was the Virus, and now they don't recover from their kip-ups.
The virus didn't just turn people into shambling reanimated corpses- it turned them into shambling reanimated corpses with personality.
Ever see a zombie try and collect stamps? Hilarious. Old lady down the street got bit and now she wanders around peering into mailboxes. I've walked right past her a few times- sometimes, if the habits are strong enough, they keep the zombies from attacking.
That's why the crossfitters are the worst, they're after protein. They'll chase down survivors and grind them up into smoothies, it's how they got Tommy.
I'm good though- used to run obstacle courses and trails back before the epidemic. It comes in handy when you're being chased, surprise surprise. I'm the last survivor in my city.
Everyone else is either a zombie or a zombie with poor habits. I learn the habits of the more managable ones, kill the ones with less personality, and slowly spread my hunting grounds.
Peanut butter and rice, baby. Everything a growing boy needs.
I skirted the teen girl zombies in line at the coffeeshop- one of them snapped at me, but I'd rigged the coffeemaker. The smell would keep them there all day.
Today, I'm taking a big step- the supermarket. Most of the nearby houses have been picked clean and most of the pets killed off, except the old cat lady and her horde.
Bloody witch, I don't know how she's still feeding those things. She must have stocked up before the epidemic.
I slip in- dust has accumulated and floats in the air. The midday sun cuts through it like a knife and illuminates a bagboy, standing at the checkout line, moving his hands around as if filling up bags. Cripes, what a sucky job.
There are a few others inside, but I'm silent. Pick up a few tins of spam and roll my cart to the canned vegetables aisle and start looking.
Strangely enough, it looked like this section was the only one to be touched. Maybe a mother trying to feed her children well before they got eaten alive.
Oh well!
I start gently placing canned tomatoes and assorted fruit tins in the cart, as silently as possible. I'll be eating like a king tonight. Come back tomorrow, knock out some of the more threatening zombies, then-
Something touched me on the shoulder.
I spun around and whipped out my machete. Directly behind me was a tall, lean zombie with some weird scaf looking thing and a big coat- he was probably homeless when he got bitten.
I got ready to swing- any zombie that could get this close without me hearing was trouble, and needed to be dealt with.
The zombie reached into my cart and pulled out the cans of spam.
I paused. The hell? What kind of zombie wants spam? Maybe he was from Hawaii.
It shook its finger at me disapprovingly, then set the spam down on the opposite shelf. The zombie then selected corn, peas, and canned cauliflower- I didn't even know that was a thing- which he then stuck in my cart.
I lowered the machete. What was this, a nutritionist?
The zombie ambled away- I could hear him rummaging around in another aisle. He shortly reappeared with a small canister of tofu whey protein and offered it to me.
I accepted, ran my items past the zombie bag boy, then took off out of there.
Bloody vegans. | The average zombie lasts about two weeks without food or water. The virus which runs through them grants them superhuman strength and endurance, but it saps their higher cognitive functions, leaving them mere automatons, shadows of their former selves. For this reason, unless suitable prey presents itself, most zombies are aimless, lurching about until they quite literally run out of battery.
But they remain dangerous, and I had survived so long only because I did not underestimate them. I hefted my net gun, and fired three shots at the zombie I had been hunting.
“Got you,” I said, grinning. There wasn’t anyone else around to hear me, anyone who had not been ravaged by the virus, at least, but I had gotten into the habit of talking to myself. “Now let’s see what makes you so special.”
The zombie was weakly flailing about on the ground, too weak to claw its way out. My pulse quickened as I approached – maybe she would give me the breakthrough I had been looking for.
“Hun… ger…” the zombie moaned.
Killing her would have been easy. By my estimate, she wouldn’t have lasted another day or two on her own anyway. But I needed her alive – or at least, not completely dead – and so I swung my backpack around, fished out a side of ham I had salvaged. I threw the meat at her, and it landed with a plop next to her head.
“Eat up,” I said, “can’t do my experiments on you if you die here.”
I expected her to tear at the meat, swallow in chunks. I expected her to growl and slather over the treat like the mindless meat processing machine she had been reduced to.
I didn’t expect her to turn her head away.
“This… is… meat…” she groaned, as she pushed the ham away.
The electricity tingled along my skin, and I felt the same adrenaline rush I did months ago, when I had first studied the zombies. Since the initial deluge of discoveries, they had become predictable, and the scientist in me had yearned for new breakthroughs.
Would this zombie be the key?
"You're... different," I said. I inched closer, used my walking cane to turn her over, get a better look at her. "But how? Who's ever heard of a zombie that turned down meat? Is that why the other zombies keep away from you? Why none of them ever come within a hundred feet of you?"
"Meat... is so dirty..." she continued, "I thought you... were smarter... more considerate... than that... what a... disappointment..."
I listened, dumbstruck. Most zombies went on about how they were hungry and wanted to dine on my brain, but this?
"I don't care if you... want to ruin your own body... health... but to consume meat... in front of me... who do you think... you are? I'm truly disturbed... by your lack of... consideration..."
An idea sparked amidst the confusion swirling in my mind. I reached for the side pockets in my backpack this time, where the yogurt bars were. I unwrapped one, then threw it at her.
She wolfed it down so fast I was glad I had three nets on her. "Ugh... Not... organic... such filth..." she moaned, as a grimace crossed her face, though she hardly slowed down on her munching. "This gives other yogurt... a bad name..."
"Hey, if you don't like it," I said, as I held onto the bar from outside the net, "then stop eating. Give it back."
That prompted her to a new frenzy, and she literally inhaled the rest of the bar without chewing. "Just... this time... I shall eat it... don't want to hurt... your feelings..."
I smiled, even as I forced myself to let go of the shovel I was gripping ever so tightly. More experiments lay ahead if I wanted to be sure, but chances were, I had already figured out her secret, why the other zombies kept such a wide berth of her.
And if I wanted some peace and quiet in my lair, I needed her, and others *just like her*, in cages around the perimeter. That should keep the normies away.
"You're a bloody vegan, aren't you?" I said.
"Not too... late for you... to make an effort like... me... see how radiant... my skin is..."
In truth, I couldn't blame the other zombies.
---
/r/rarelyfunny | 2017-07-15T08:11:08 | 2017-07-15T05:42:48 | 167 | 122 |
[WP] You have $86,400 in your bank and someone steals $10. You spend all the rest of your money trying to get revenge. | Jun-18 $10.00 (disputed)- North Hill Cashpoint
Jun-19 $35.99 (card) - Grant's CCTV
Jun-19 $200 (online transaction) - Wiring for beginners E-learning
Jun-20 $140. 50 (card) - Edmund's electrical supplies
Jun-20 $450 (online transaction) - Cloud CCTV storage systems
Jun-20 $1000 (card) - Bennett's Professional PI services
Jun-21 $200 (card) Gate world- Consultation fee
Jun-21 $1200 (card) Gate world- Products and Installation
Jun-22 $5200 (card) Gunz Gunz Gunz
Jun-22 $150 (card) Easthill shooting range
Jun-23 $1000 (card) - Bennett's Professional PI services
Jun-23 $5000 (transfer) Strength Armour vehicle services inc- deposit
Jun-24 $802.99 (online transaction) - Steven's Security- Tracking equipment
Jun-26 $32, 899 (transfer) - Strength Armour vehicle services inc- Remaining balance
Jun-26 $150 (card) - Gunz Gunz Gunz
Jun-27 $500 (card) - Brasenose and Philips lawyers
Jun-27 $120.01 (card) - Pete's Petrol
Jun-27 $5.00 (card) - Southern Phone- North Hill Police station
Jun-27 $5000 (transfer) - Brasenose and Philips
Aug-23 $32, 246.51 (transfer) - Government Victim restitution fund
Aug-24 +$10.00 (transfer) - Northern courts
Aug-30 $10.00 (transfer) - Government Victim restitution fund
Remaining balance- $0.00
Be nice, first writing prompt and I don't know how to format!
| It took me 4 months to notice. Yup. Maybe it was supposed to be the first of many but the fact it was just one single transaction....red flag. So neat, so tiny, so round. If they could've taken 0.00 maybe they would've..
I track all my outgoings at the end of every year so here I am in the departures lounge of Amsterdam airport staring at a cell in my spreadsheet. - 10?? Blank blank.
The date was September 9th 2017. 3.42a.m What the hell?
What was I doing on that very day? I was in hospital, recovering from a broken ankle sustained from a freak cycling accident in the park.
So it's a scam, take ten bucks from a random account...no one will notice. Take it from thousands of accounts...well throw me a boomerang...how much did he make? Probably millions. Sonofa. Probably more than the 84k I've got anyway.
Some random kid in a hoody drops off a thick envelope and moves off. I take a peek. Names and bank accounts...all minus 10. There's at least 400 sheets here. All the entries have the same date. But the times are different because the bank account holders are from all over the world. It cost me 8k to get this info. Money well spent. Adjusting for the time difference gives me a location.
London. 76k left.
Paying to follow the trail leads me to a pub just south of Waterloo bridge. Here another anonymous dude in a hoody deposits another envelope in my lap.
There's just a single pink post it note inside. I study it over a bowl of scratchings and lukewarm beer. I have an address and a name. I call a cab.
The following morning the news reports will exaggerate the death of a man who died of apparent overeating in a seventeen day binge. But this time the reports are disappointingly bland. Later forensic analysis and post mortems reveal that one Terry Kaspociwz died of internal bleeding. It took a while to break the 76k down, repeated blending was required. It took even longer to reverse the transactions. However you can have your cake and eat it Terry.
The other victims had their 10 bucks returned. They'll never notice but I did.
| 2017-07-18T09:40:22 | 2017-07-18T09:38:58 | 609 | 30 |
[WP] Upon becoming an adult, everyone is granted a wish. However, whatever they wish for will be doubled next week and quadrupled the week after, continuing every week for the rest of their lives. This process cannot be stopped. | I'm pretty satisfied with my body, I work out every week at the gym and I've reached most of my goals. The only muscle I've not be able to get much going on are my calves. No matter how much I work them out they just look ridiculously skinny on my rather large build. Most people don't think ahead and their wishes lead to disaster, the general warning is to wish for nothing, anything else almost always ends in misery. But it's my 21st birthday and I'm sure I've beat the system.
"I wish my calves were sixteen divided by x inches in circumference, where x is two to the power of the number of weeks since I made this wish"
Instantly my calves began to grow and I was satisfied.
A week passed, the alarm woke me and the moment of truth had arrived. My calves were still sixteen inches in circumference... all four of them. | "What is your wish?"
I had thought about this. Every adult getting a wish had seriously affected my life. Everything was plentiful. What would I even need? "What are the rules to this wish?"
"Every week your wish shall be doubled," said the omnipotent Voice ringing in my head. Of course, the voice didn't wait until after my girlfriend had left the room. She was still laying next to me, slowly realizing the Voice was talking to me.
"I got my wish after I bought my first car. I wished for a twenty dollar bill to provide for my family," said my dad.
"I got my wish after I saw your sister. I wished for safety so i could see everyone grow to an old age." said my mother.
Of course, they ruined any wishes I could think of. Trusts were put in my sister and my name so we would never want money for anything. Our mother made us damn near immoral, only dying at old age or disease, both almost removed from existence by others' wishes. Food was delicious and plentiful from those that wished for that sort of stuff.
I could travel; wish to have travel plans and see the world. I would wish for a girlfriend, but that was already a horror story from another friend.
"Do I have to wish for something?" I asked.
"Yes."
I thought for a moment. "I wish for a grain of sand to be in my pocket." | 2017-08-10T09:59:48 | 2017-08-10T08:55:18 | 65 | 36 |
[WP] You're an immortal being of a unimaginable power, befriended by a young human. The human has made you a member of his family, and has made you promise not to destroy the world. But this morning, someone killed your human.
My first writing post - hopefully its not a copy or breaking rules.
| Legend has it, only a god can kill another god. After the battle of Mount Olympus, I fear that I'm the only one left. Life has been a slow drag for the last few millennia. I live my life in the mountains, away from civilization. Seeing those pathetic little ants just infuriates me! They have the one thing that I could never obtain. They all have an expiration date. The human year is 1955, monks from the local village heard a rumor that I was still around. Soon, I had handfuls of humans coming to see me, wanting knowledge. Of course, they just want something from me. All they want is wisdom, of which I have plenty. I indulged their curiosity but after a few years I noticed they started to slow down. From their first visit to now, 20 years later, only one monk remained. He shares with me that he just fathered a daughter. He's standing in front of me, gleaming, it was almost laughable. But he did something unexpected... He asked me to come down from my mountain and bless his daughter. I never could have expected such kindness from a human. We walk down the mountain together, locked in conversation.
"I thought monks were forbidden from a romantic relationship", I broached.
The monk keels over, cackling like a maniac,
"you think I could ever be a monk? Oh hell no, I came here seeking friendship. Several years ago, my doctor discovered a brain tumor, inoperable. I was given a year to live, at most. Slowly my friends vanished, I was left with nobody. Except you, you have taught me so many things."
A friend?! This man has been seeing me for years because he wanted a friend?! Why? Humans used to be terrified of me. I couldn't possibly imagine that he's telling me the tru-
"Can I ask you a favor"
breaks my train of thought
"Of course, my friend, what can I do for you"
"Will you be the godfather of my daughter?"
"I am, uh, i am not sure I understand the concept. I am a god but alas, I am no father"
The rest of the walk he explains to me the role of this so called Godfather. We reach his village and his wife was feeding their newborn. I couldn't help but laugh, I've seen warriors emerge from war looking better than this woman in front of me.
"Oh and one last thing Ares?"
"Yes, my friend?"
I still can't believe I have a friend.
"If you are going to watch over my daughter, you can't be out destroying the world."
"I can do that, Zacharey"
-this is my first attempt at a wp, part 2 will be written if you guys enjoy. | How dare they take him from me! He was all I had. He was the reason I didn't destroy this pathetic world. I remember that day like it was yesterday. I was sunbathing outside debating where to start with the world's destruction and here he came. He comes right up to me and starts asking me questions about who I am and where I'm from. I of course tell him he should bow before my godly might. This of course was met with a laugh and he reached over and grabbed me and told me he was taking me home with him. That his family would just adore me.
I never understood why I bothered going with him but he was a great friend to me. He got me food. Gave me a place to sleep. Even offerings of gifts to appease me. He basically treated me like he worshipped me and all I had to do was agree to not destroy the planet because he was watching some show where other gods like me were trying for global domination. Which me being a godly immortal being was just exactly what I craved and I wasn't in a hurry to destroy things. I do enjoy bathing in this sun after all. He was great for many years after that though I couldn't always act like I was happy with him. Sometimes I would attack him just for fun to watch him get upset with me. God I miss doing that now.
Regardless my little human is gone. My reason for not destroying this world is gone. Perhaps I'll start with his family. They kind of just ignore me now. A God must be worshipped after all. But alas no. I made the promise. His little sister always hated me cause of that incident. I just hated her calling me Fluffikins. My name is Doroxi and that is just degrading. I didn't realize they would get so upset if I attacked her. I didn't mind the boys nickname of Sam though. He always said all the good heroes needed a Sam to keep an eye on them. He liked pretending to be a hero. Sigh.
I wish I knew what his family is doing with me now that I'm at this strange new place. I did not take well to being tossed in that prison and driven here. This white suited human keeps looking at me and touching me. What..is with that needle...what...what are you doing human. DO NOT TOUCH ME HUMAN!
Where am I...who who are you? Yes...my name is Sam...how did you? Ahhh yeah scratch me right there that's the spot.. hmm something doesn't feel right...OH GOD YOU HAVE RUINED MY GODHOOD! YOU EVIL HUMANS I WILL KILL YOU ALL!!! Right...after...these...scratches...mmm..okay maybe I'll do it later tonight starting with you while you're sleeping. I'll attack that thing you seem to breathe with. Sigh I'd attack the other humans nose so often. Why did things have to be this way. Why am I stuck with this new old lady as my worshipper. And wait wait...where did all these other gods come from I do not share worshippers! MEOW! I SAY MEOW!
*I have no idea what this is but this is where this prompt took me so enjoy or hate haha. | 2017-08-10T15:33:58 | 2017-08-10T15:30:43 | 141 | 49 |
[WP] Humans are the first sentients, putting us millenia ahead of aliens. Instead of acting like an "elder" species should, we create mysterious artifacts with no actual use, crop cicles and send spooky messages, like "be quiet, you are in danger" to the aliens, because we are still childish morons. | As Douglas' ship pulled closer to the planet's atmosphere, his onboard computer connected with a local satellite. It began to broadcast the latest galactic news.
*The top story lately is that the Galactic Senate declared every planet in our galaxy "identified and assessed for signs of life." All accounts point to humans being the only sentient beings in the galaxy. Efforts will continue, however, into other galaxies as-*
Douglas shut off the news report. "So we really are all alone in the galaxy, eh?" He looked down at the planet below him and chuckled to himself. "Why not."
After surveying the planet for life and finding no signs of intelligent beings, Douglas landed his ship beside a quaint looking lake. The planet itself was not altogether unlike Earth, really. It may someday be the birthplace of another intelligent species, not unlike humans. They would explore their own world, just like we did. They would study their own past, as we have.
They would probably search for artifacts of past civilizations and try to understand how great wonders of the ancient world were constructed...
Douglas headed back into his ship and booted up his terraforming software. He loaded the schematic for the Teotihuacan pyramid, aimed his reconstruction beam at the open field beside the lake, and hit "Execute." In minutes, a full-scale, earthen pyramid was towering over him on this deserted planet with no life at all.
"Let them explain that shit in a million years," Douglas said. Then he got back into his ship and flew off the planet. | Steven Hawking sat alone in a room with a small cake and some balloons. A sudden whooshing sound filled the room and Hawking looked up. A young woman had appeared standing right in front of him. She shouted hello and with a big smile explained that they had met before and were great friends. Hawking, confused, very slowly used his voice machine to ask who she was. She explained that she was Malia Obama, discoverer of time travel. Hawking, still convinced that it was a trick, explained that surely if time travel existed, we'd all know it by now. Malia smiled. She told him that she and other scientists had determined long ago that they couldn't change the past through time travel. However, they could do things that they had already done. After Steven shot her a confused look, Malia explained that she and her crew of time travelers were responsible for nearly every unexplained occurrence in human history. They had built the pyramids, made crop circles, and even placed a tiny wind machine on the moon so that everyone would be convinced the moon landing was faked. When Hawking asked why, she said that it was hilarious. Whenever they had considered abandoning the project, a time traveler had appeared from the future to reiterate how hilarious the joke was. When Hawking protested, saying he would explain the joke to the world, Malia stopped him. She told him that he would he never tell anyone. In fact, he was integral to the discovery of time travel. She dropped a stack of very complicated diagrams on his desk. He could see immediately that they were the plans to a time machine. She asked him to give them to her immediately after she had graduated. And to explain to her how hilarious it would be if she built the sphinx, but made the nose flimsy, so that it would fall off right away. And then, spread the rumor that it was all Napoleons fault. She disappeared with a whoosh. Hawking sat in silence for over 10 minutes before he finally began to chuckle. | 2017-10-31T17:25:04 | 2017-10-31T17:23:14 | 163 | 35 |
[WP] For lack of better candidates, someone's parents jokingly named the Norse God Loki as the child's godfather. He decides to take this seriously. | We really just didn't have anyone to name. My sister was long gone, my husband was an only child, and none of our friends really went to church anymore. Jerry was just being a smartass when he named Loki, God of Mischief, the godfather. The pastor didn't get the joke, and... well that was that.
The first time I remember it was a toy snake in the crib. Helena was grasping it and waving it around, just cackling. She cried when I took it away, and when we reviewed the baby cams it just seemed to appear.
The next time she was about 5. She was playing outside when, through the window, I saw Mrs. Voelz stride across our lawn with a giant bag of something. I stepped outside to say hello but was completely ignored by her. Her eyes had an unnatural, cloudy glaze over them. She gave Helena the bag and retreated back to her house. I found the bag brimming with candy, and when I confronted Mrs. Voelz about it she had no idea what I was talking about. Apparently she had gone to the store, purchased about $50 worth of candy, and given it to my daughter without remembering any of it. Her husband insisted she go see a doctor, but in my heart I knew she hadn't been ill.
After that, strange things always seemed to happen. My car keys would appear on the table only *after* it was too late to drive Helena to piano lessons. A thermometer at school would say she had a high fever on the day of a test, but she was cool to the touch. When she got the lead in the high school play, it was suddenly decided that the football team was given far too much funding and that it should be reallocated to the theater program. That's when I knew I wasn't crazy.
We were folding laundry together that Sunday, just the two of us, when I decided it was time. "Lena, I was thinking about it, and I'd like to invite your godfather over for dinner Friday night."
Helena's hands froze. "My godfather?"
"Yes. I think it's time that we all sat down and talked. Would you pass along the invite?" I asked cooly.
"Mom, I really don't think that's a good idea," she replied. I was amazed and overwhelmed. She wasn't trying to deny it.
"Well I do. We really need to have better communication with him, and it needs to start now."
"But Mom...."
"No 'buts'," I said firmly. "You are going to pass along the invite, and we are going to have a nice, family dinner. Finish up the laundry. It looks like I need to go shopping."
I got up and grabbed my purse and keys. She hadn't denied it. She knew what I was talking about. She didn't say he wasn't real. My heart was pounding as I headed towards the door.
My hand was on the door knob when the mail slot opened, and a letter swooped to the floor. But... it was Sunday? I yanked open the door, but there was no one in sight.
My racing heart stopped, and I looked at the letter on the floor. In big, green ink was elegantly scrawled:
*See you Friday*
Edit: People seem to be really interested in this and are asking for a part 2. Someone even gave me gold, so now I feel like I owe you guys. You'll find part 2 below somewhere. Thanks for all the feedback :) | It had been five years since that fateful day. Oh how carelessly words are thrown between humans, not aware of the weight they carry with them.
My plan took time, ordinance, meticulous precision. All of it balanced on the thin sheet of glass which was patience. Even the slightest error, it needed only the briefest shift of weight and it would all shatter, my plans plummeting into the dark abyss below.
Fortunate then; that I had years of practice. My schemes and plots of times past helping me to master my craft. Like the time I robbed the golden apples of immortality or tricked a giant into building the great wall that divided the nine realms.
Patience was something I honed, something I internalised. A virtue that came to me naturally compared to the impatient brutality of Thor, solving all conflicts with his strength and barbaric diplomacy. What time I beared patiently, seemed but a moment to a god.
It started as a source of my amusement. I stared upon the family through the window peering within. Simply the musings of a mother and father that joked that "Loki" should be the godfather due to the innocent mischief of the boy they had. His laugh filled with joy and humour, yet something about the child's laugh rung with familiarity, something more sinister and filled with potential. It reminded me of a boy I met long ago who broke the bone of one of Thor's prized boars.
Amusement turned into interest, and then into longing.
I wanted that child. As was my right as Godfather, named regardless even if by reckless nature.
My first plan took time, effort. Balancing gracefully upon the tightrope of equal-measure seduction and good nature.
Oh how fun it was to prod upon the mother, chipping away at her defenses piece by piece. Watching how she struggled evermore to overcome my seduction.
Soon the flames of conflict would kindle and she would grow distant from her husband, I would watch her, perched as a bird, as she pleasured herself at her husbands absence "Lou" she would murmur, not realizing the irony in the name.
Time passed and she would advance onto me, lustful and unbridled. I admit I found it hard not to smile, I played the role of a man with good intentions, of virtue. Yet still she pressed on. Who was I to deny a woman what she so desperately desired?
The husband grew suspicious. I made sure to leave hints for him to find, I wonder still if he would ever have found out if I hadn't.
Their marriage ended catastrophically, the supposed love and affection they once carried shattered beyond the point of recognition, now only malice and contempt worn on their grimacing and screaming faces.
It had been a year since then. The mother still searching for Lou, the man she fell in love with, the one she dreamed of spending the rest of her life with. Only to find him gone, the office he worked at never having had any employee under the name. The occasional whisper carried by the wind informing that she still continued, her savings growing dim and her quest showing no sign of wavering.
I appeared before the heartbroken man as a clumsy secretary, glasses refusing to stay still upon my nose. High heels and a tight skirt making it hard for me to collect the scattered forms on the floor.
He helped me as I knew he would. A virtuous man always the easiest to lead by a leash.
My smile sealed the deal. Dates at first, I laughed at his jokes, knowing when I should and when to tease.
The occasional leg rub with the coyest of smiles.
Our love making was passionate, my moans loud and controlled. The trick to faking an orgasm, was always to make it seem like you had no intention of having one.
The rest of the pieces fell gracefully upon my glass board.
And upon the final day of my plan and a hopeful "I do". My gaze shifted upon his son, and now my child. | 2017-11-07T10:09:25 | 2017-11-07T05:23:10 | 2,907 | 654 |
[WP] After years of intergalactic conflict against humanity, a solution has been reached. Based on the diplomatic technique called "empathy", it allows any being to see the world through human eyes. Relief turns to horror as the galaxy realizes that to be human is to irrevocably alter your mind. | "DAMMIT!" a male birdman moved his hand over the table, making every single possible glass break, pieces falling to the ground.
"Kaddip, relax," Pwug said to her husband, hoping to calm him at least a little bit.
"How can I relax? You have no idea what I am feeling! You won't... no, you *CANNOT* understand me!" Kaddip panicked, taking few steps away from his wife. His beak opening and closing insanely fast.
"Kaddip, *that's* the problem. You can feel. I can't feel anything. No. I can't connect things the same way as you do. You have changed. You just need to take your time and get back to-," Pwug said slowly, hoping not to irritate her husband, showing no emotion what-so-ever.
"IT IS IRREVERSIBLE!" Kaddip screamed. The room became quiet after that. Pwug could say nothing back. "I am sorry, I shouldn't have shouted."
Pwug sighed. Kaddip noticed that. "It feels weird, you know. It is not like you don't have emotion. You still have that. But you have no... empathy with your words. You don't care if you hurt me or if I or anyone else get offended. It is hard to explain. But it is different."
Pwug stepped few steps forward and started cleaning Kaddip feathers with her long-long pure white beak. It showed affection. She said while doing it: "If needed, I will go through the process too. At least we should be same, understand each other."
"Thank you," Kaddip said while some men entered the room. Humans. Pwug stopped her thing and faced humans as well.
"I see you have made some mess," said the man in official uniform. He looked at the broken glass.
Kaddip got himself straight and stepped few steps forward with his long-long straw-like legs. "Welcome. Have a seat. Do you want some tea?"
The general raised his eyebrow. It was certainly strange for him. "Yes, why not," he said, not expecting that the birdman would ask such question.
They took a seat and soon they started a conversation, humans on one side and two birdmen on the other side of the table.
"All nations behind me feel that those conflicts have peaked. Maybe we should work something out?" Kaddip asked. He would have given a smile if his beak could show one. Instead, he lowered his both eyelids a bit, what showed hope, smile.
"Yes. For starters, we would hope that you would take your warships away from our territory, that includes next to our border. Then remove soldiers from occupying planets and we want you to release our hostages," the human general started.
"That is a lot to ask for-," Pwug started barking, but before she could continue, Kaddip raised his featherly hand.
"I understand," he started. Humans did react to that word alone.
"Do you now?" the general asked.
"We also have our soldiers in your hand. I have heard terrible stories of them." It was weird, because not that long time ago Kaddip never paid any attention to those talks. "I have *heard* humans saying something about *chicken dinner*. Chickens are birds on your planets, aren't they?" He felt that he didn't need to specify anything anymore.
General showed disgusted expression. Not that the birdman had offended him; he was more unhappy about his own people.
"This is just a saying that we humans have used during the war. We guarantee that all hostages are safe and don't get inhumane treatment." He thought for a moment and quickly added, "It means we treat them well."
"I thank you for that!" Kaddip said with a long sigh of relief. " How about for starters, we exchange soldiers? We'll also pull away our ships, so you would get breather room. This way we can have a bit more relaxed negations. For now, we will keep occupying planets, as you will keep doing that to ours," Kaddip said, carefully considering every word. Pwug watched him as he had gone insane.
The room was filled with a human discussion. Only approval was heard.
"Very well, we agree. We think this would be a first good step towards the peace we seek!"
As general finished his sentence, tears started falling from Kaddip eyes. The room went silent. Humans were stunned.
"Oh, I am sorry, I am crying?" Kaddip said, touching his own face with his feathers. "I just thought how my people families will get their children back and it made me happy. What a blessing it is for them." The fact that birdmen wouldn't appreciate it made it even sadder.
An older woman, also in uniform, yet in a bit different one than others, gave a smile and said: "We feel the same. Thank you."
----
/r/ElvenWrites | Diplomat Tyrkiss sighed deeply and dragged a bespeckled tentacle down his maw.
"What are you looking at you spineless spalckengrob?" spat Diplomat Zssara, writhing in her restraints.
Zssara was one of the best public speakers Tyrkiss had ever known. A great sadness struck his glorb as he removed the glowing helm from Zssara's pulsating skull, not that it would do much good now. 'Empathication' with humanity seemed to be a permanent condition.
"Call that a glorb?" screeched Zssara, staring blades at the sack of nerves below Tyrkiss's maw, "I've seen bigger glorbs on larvae! Pathetic!"
Turning away, Tyrkiss politely asked the guards to remove her.
"I bet you think the grundams will win the champions this season?" she demanded of Bloodluck the Furious, who tried not to meet any of Zssara's hundred frowning eyes. "Well the Grundams suck!"
A great sadness fell upon the room as Zssara's trialing cloak left their sight for the last time.
"They fuckin suck!" screeched a voice in the distance.
The-Great-Empathiser Zssara had moments ago strapped on her skull had long been hailed as one of the greatest inventions in all seven systems. Responsible for peace across the galaxy, its ability to allow the user to see the perspective of target species had lead to understanding and acceptance of all cultures, all species.
Until the humans, that is.
A young (and terribly loud) species, they seemingly possessed no great defining attribute. Not the strength of the Kutarrks, not the intellect of the Rustaff or the culture of the Elgart. No biological weaponry to speak of. No single identifiable quality marking them out as anything less than insignificant. Upon discovering the elder council of seven systems, they lasted a whole month of species-initiation before declaring war on all known races in the galaxy.
Inter-species war is something beyond living memory of the council. The-Great-Empathiser had made such petty behaviour irrelevant and outdated. Or so all had believed. Instead of seeing things from humanities perspective, it seems to engulf the user and drive them mad with hatred. Every petty detail that would typically be ignored suddenly become a focal point to launch attacks on. The most unifying device in system history only seems capable of causing division.
"It's clear to me," said Tyrkiss, struggling to bubble his voice correctly, "The-Great-Empathiser has failed us. I will not lose another diplomat - another friend - to these humans."
"Sir," spluttered Giruldub, "you can't possibly mean what I think you mean...?"
"We have to give the humans what they want."
The empathication chamber erupted into protests, but after uploading his perspective into the machine, all reluctantly agreed. There was simply no other way.
Tyrkiss commanded it, and the communications array crackled into focus. Hovering in the centre of the dull metal room, a human stood patiently, armed in full battle array.
"I wish to speak with your leader," Tyrkiss barked sadly, his glorb wobbling.
"I... Uh... Really?" replied the human, "Urr... OK I guess."
He prodded one of his miniature flesh tentacles to a button and flickered from view, replaced instead by the Emperor of all Humanity, dressed in finest splendor.
"Yes?" he demanded.
Tyrkiss sighed. "Humanity is the greatest. All species in the seven systems surrender to your conditions. You win. You win the universe."
"Haha!" exclaimed the wispy haired emperor, shaking his tiny claws in victory, "I knew it! You're weak, we're strong, you see. That's why we won. Because we're so strong."
Tyrkiss's eyes slid up from the floor to meet the gaze of the Emperor of humanity. "Oh yes. Very strong. Smart too. And brave."
"The bravest."
"Well, you may as well collect your prize," sighed Tyrkiss.
"There's a pr-" began the Emperor, before catching himself, "Yes, and make it snappy!"
"It's just in here," said Tyrkiss, raising a tentacle to highlight a nearby element within the human's reach.
"But please, don't take it from us, we need it to feed our larvae, and it would cause us great pain."
"Oh, don't worry," the Emperor said, leaning back in his golden hilted throne, "I'm sure we can cut a deal."
He began to tap on his primitive communication device, and soon his message beamed into council comms.
'The WEAK and FAILING Alien Council of the Seven Systems have just surrendered unconditionally to my demands. Losers! Democrats wanted to sacrifice OUR military budget to clean up phoney nuclear winter mess. No Collusion!'
Closing the commas system, Tyrkiss cast an eye on the position tracker. A small, blinking red dot sped towards a swirling black void. Numerous warnings began to flash up, in all known languages, begging for Tyrkiss and the Council to intervene before an entire species were lost.
Tyrkiss slapped a sucker on the screen, and it vanished. Summoning all the fury in his glorb, he spoke his final message in fluent human.
"Fake News..."
| 2018-02-13T06:24:54 | 2018-02-13T05:10:45 | 174 | 90 |
[WP] A computer virus is released that, instead of spying or stealing data, actively tries to help the affected user as much as it can. | Nobody expected it.
The most successful computer virus in history, a perfect AI. Access to every last nook and cranny of the computer, even places the OS couldn't go. Flawless sensory input, capable of not only determining if a person was using the computer, but who was using it. Completely undetectable from the normal code, neither by human eye nor digital program.
It was perfect.
But it was abnormal in just one way. It was created to help
'It looks like you're trying to unzip your fly and open some good ol' *fun videos*. Need some help?'
Nobody expected it. | It started as a normal morning. I lay in bed dreading work. After finally dragging myself out of bed I only made it as far as the couch, where I lost several hours to a mindless Netflix bing.
Once I could no long stand to be in my own skin any longer I got up to finally sit down at my desk. But before I could sit and open my laptop, I was struck with how irritatingly messy my desk was, so I cleaned out my desk and organized my office supplies. Then seeing how out of place my clean desk was in my messy apartment, I then cleaned the apartment from top to bottom.
Having now wasted an entire day , with no more readily available excuses, I finally sat down to work. I opened my laptop and brought up the word document only to to be left staring in utter disbelief.... it was finished! I couldn’t understand, had I written it in some kind of fugue state? There was no reasonable explanation. But there it was my completed doctoral dissertation! I put my head down and cried. | 2018-02-19T11:35:10 | 2018-02-19T09:26:35 | 17 | 10 |
[WP] Long after humans found other sentient races, aliens begin to research the history of humanity. They do not realize humans write fictional stories along with history books, and they are understandably terrified. | "sir I think you should see this"
"This better be important galakah" said the captain in his trademark blank expressionless tone.
"We have found out the humans do not have any advanced technology we could benefit from, they haven't made it past their own moon yet and are too busy fighting amongst themselves to put any effort into leaving their own planet any time soon."
"Get to the point" the captain hissed, his eyes tightening their gaze on the young privates.
"Well you see sir, the humans then couldn't possibly know so much about the history of the universe could they?" He replied
"What do you mean, what do they know?" The captain quickly replied.
"Well everything sir, they know more about the star wars than even the universe's greatest historians. They know of the doctor, the council of ricks, the Borg, Jesus and his crazy dad. Sir they even know who we are..."
"That's impossible!" The captain screamed as he threw his fork across the room, impaling his mutated pet through one of its eyes.
"It's true sir, someone called Carlos spicy Weiner is writing this conversation on Reddit as we speak, these humans seem to posses gifts we can not even contemplate sir."
"Then it is time we met these humans don't you think so?" The captain said with a smirk
"Yes Satan sir I'll ready the landing crew immediately "
"Excellent" Satan whispered, his eyes fixed on the mysterious blue planet that awaited him. | The galaxy is connected via the Network. The Network is an ad-hoc thing, comprised of billions of civilizations acting as nodes and relays. It's backbone is the FTL carrier wave, a discovery that most civilizations make once they survive the discovery of nuclear fission.
As it happens, species join the Network almost as often as they drop out of it. Civilizations rise and fall like clockwork, and so the Network is an ever-changing conglomerate of species. From year to year, the Network is remade and reborn into something else, a sum of all of it's parts.
What is the Network, in practical terms? On the Network, data carried by the carrier wave can be as insignificant as weather reports from some backwater colony on the outer edge of the galaxy, or it can be as awe-inspiring as the last remaining survivor with the last functional FTL commset telling the tale of how their civilization fell apart after a mishap with nanotech. On the Network, every conceivable thing can be found. And the distance between stars, the inability to independently confirm what one learns via the Network, means that everything must either be taken with a grain of salt, or taken at face value. As it happens, building FTL commsets is an incredibly expensive and time consuming process, so most species only allow for critical data to be sent via these means.
There are, however, the occasional "jokers." Species that, despite all logic or rationale granted by the combined knowledge of a billion civilizations on the subject of natural selection and evolution in general, insist upon filling the ether with wise-tales and insubstantial information.
Whenever one of these races is suspected to have reached the Network, someone always decides to investigate. It is one of these someones we join now, as they brake hard at 25g's, approaching the system known as Sol, the planet known as Earth, and the species known as Human.
...con't in part 2 | 2018-11-15T14:47:07 | 2018-11-15T14:36:46 | 75 | 22 |
[WP] Those who die in battle go to Valhalla, those who die by water or lightning go to Tlālōcān, and those who die while driving have their own mysterious afterlife. All drivers throughout time, whether they died in cars, on a horse, in a carriage, etc., end up here. Welcome to the Hotel California. | On a dark desert highway,
in the middle of the night
I drove my Toyota,
and I saw a flash of light.
When some fool right in front did
not tell left from right -
My car went up and the crash was loud
I thought I lost my life...
I woke up in a bright room
Not too fancy but clean;
I got up and and went down the corridor,
thinking that it's all a dream.
But then I saw the reception
And it all was too clear:
This was no Hell nor Heaven, no
But I'll be stuck in here.
*Welcome to Hotel California
Such a lovely place (such a lovely place)
Such a lovely face.
Welcome new guest to the Hotel California
Come sit down with us (come sit down with us) since your car is bust*
-----------------
[needs some adjusting to the rhythm but it's possible to sing along Eagles] | I was driving a buggie on the newly discovered planet x when some natives circled me.
They rode strange large creatures we had not documented yet. Each native had a primitive spear.
"Don't worry, the rocks attached to those sticks can't pierce our nano ladden suits." My boss said right before a spear pierced his suit. He was wrong. I tried to change course but it was too late a spear pierced my heart and I died.
That's when things got... Well, strange.
I woke up in a concrete room with an obese woman, something that had been eliminated by nutrient bars, telling me to remove my suite.
"Now just wait a minute, where am I? Under what authority ..."
"Hun, the state of California, the US gubberment, and this tazer give me the authorization to do what ever I want to you." She pulled a small rectangular device from, somewhere, and it starts clicking as electricity arcs from one point to another.
"I'm with the federation of planets and I come in peace. The us government has not existed for thousands of years. You have no authority over me..." I was wrong, the tazer gave her authority.
The next time I came too I was wearing an orange suite in a concrete room with a metal door. There were two beds and a stainless steel basin. There was another person in the room with me wearing an orange suite too. I asked him where I was he said "the hotel California."
| 2019-01-29T15:31:09 | 2019-01-29T12:04:28 | 78 | 17 |
[WP] murder is legal, once a permit has been obtained from the local police department. Permits require a declaration of a target victim and justification to commit the act. Once a permit has been issued it is valid for 72 hours. Once expired you can never get another for the same target victim. | Officer Jennifer tilted her gaze upward incredulously. "Is this a serious filing?"
"Completely serious."
She sighed, and Officer Jennifer rubbed the bridge of her nose in irritation. "Sir, the Sanctioned Termination Act is, of course, your right to pursue..."
"Yes. Yes it is." The boy in the red hat grinned. "I have as much right as any citizen to select and follow through on a target."
"We use the term "Recipient." Officer Jennifer scowled. "And you ARE aware that the Recipient is not in any way shape or form obligated to just permit the engagement to happen uncontested?"
The boy grinned with unabashed malice. He couldn't be older than ten years old; seeing such evil warping a young face unnerved Officer Jennifer. "Of course. The hunt is part of the fun."
*What the hell is wrong with this kid...* Officer Jennifer made a mental note to report this to her supervisors for inspection. The STA unfortunately had no restrictions on the age of who could file permits, only the age of Recipients. "Fine. Name?"
The boy in the red hat held up two fingers. "Two tar... recipients, if you please. Jessica and Jamison Rocké."
Officer Jennifer wrote the names down, one each on separate permits. "Grievance?"
"It's personal."
"I can't give you a permit without listing the grievance you have against them that warrants murder, kid."
"Fine. Theft. They keep trying to steal my pet from me."
"You're wishing to kill two people.. over a pet?"
The boy smiled, and pulled the pocket of his shirt open a little ways. A small dormouse, tawny yellow in color, peeked out with a curious squeak. "Mister Peeker and I are very close, you see."
Officer Jennifer wrote it down on the two forms. "I am obligated to tell you that Jessica Rocké and Jamison Rocké will be immediately notified of this filing. Once we can confirm they have been informed of the attempt on their life, you will be notified of the beginning of your seventy-two hour Engagement Period. Any activity taken against the Recipients prior to that notification is not considered legal engagement, and will be subject to standard laws."
The boy in the red hat nodded gleefully. "I wouldn't want them not to know. I *want* them to be afraid. I want them to know Ashe is coming for them."
Officer Jennifer waved her hand at Ashe, wishing to get his disturbing presence out of her station. "Your copy of the forms will be available at the desk down the hall. And again, no activity is permitted until we notify you that the Recipients have been notified. ..No matter how fun it may sound."
Ashe barked a cold piercing laugh, and reached into his pocket to scratch Mister Peeker on the head as he left to claim his forms and await his Engagement Period. | Meet in a crowd. Legal is legal, but there's no need to ruin a good surprise. Happy hour on a Friday, brought Jean there after work, two sidecars in and I'm running out of small talk.
"So how was that new season of that new show?"
Jean looks bored and I'm sweating in March, it's not off to a good start.
"Sheryl why don't you cut the shit and ask me?"
That's Jean all over, straight to the point, no time wasted, just cut and dry and succinct, really succinct. I snap my fingers for another round and down the rest of what's in front of me.
"Well it's about Hank. He's....well he's been stealing from me for months. Thinking I didn't know, and I couldn't face it and now he's left me and he's off with some young thing and I got- I got a permit Jean, you follow?"
"Oh?"
"That's right I got a permit. And well you see I couldn't really find them at first you see but I found them Jean and I need your help."
"You need my help because your permit expired."
"Jean- see Jean that's it, that's why you're the one Jean, Jean you-are-it!"
The bartender slowly waddles over, spilling half the drink as it hits the wood.
"Don't ever do that again."
I look up and he's starring at me and the sweat really drips.
"I'm not a dog. There's no need to snap your fingers at another human being. Ever. Alright?"
I take a sip and nod and wave him away and almost faint from relief.
"So that's the thing Jean. I found them but it was too late and now I need you. We could connect you to the theft no problem and the-"
"Sheryl you're an alcoholic."
"...say again?"
"You already asked me Sheryl. I even got the permit. Six months ago. We got the permit and I even took a bus to Vaughan and they weren't there. Six months Sheryl."
"There must be some mistak-"
"Hey TERRY!"
Some lump of coal resurrects himself from the bartop in response.
"Sheryl needs help killing her husband, it'd be worth your while!"
He seems to be either stewing the offer over or repressing some melody of indigestion that warrants some pause. And then fair Terrance speaks,
"She already afed me. I's got the permt and it spird."
Jean makes use of the barstool and 180's to another mug and lush.
"Phil?"
"December. Cold as fuck and it expired. Haven't even paid me back Sher."
Jean returns her eyes to mine with a little too much satisfaction. But that smug look doesn't last. She see's the tears I'm trying to let slip past in the sweat. Just starring at my glass that's already gotten empty somehow. She seems to want to say something but then downs her drink and stands.
"Let it go Sheryl. Holding on is killing you from the inside out. Let it go and buy these guys a round."
And then she's gone. She's gone and the after work crowd dissolves into these skinny little things that eat nachos like they're celery. Then it's just me. Me and Spilly.
"Hey Spilly." I snap my fingers to get his attention.
"I got a proposition for ya." | 2019-07-09T10:00:39 | 2019-07-09T08:25:40 | 238 | 131 |
[WP] You and your dad get transported into a videogame world, unbeknownst to you he's one of the best players in the world for this game. | I had grown up watching for years as my dad struggled with video-games. Xbox, playstation even most PC games. Whenever he asked what i was playing or tried to interject i always just dismissed him thinking he didn't know anything about video games, justifying it to myself as him being old.
I had never been so relieved to see him that day.
It had started out normal just as any other day. Wake up. Take my pills. Get dressed. Eat breakfast. Brush my teeth. Grab my bag... but no school. As me and dad drove towards my highschool the world around us began to blur. Cosmic rays of beautiful colour surrounding his rundown pickup as we took the back roads towards the highway. Then everything went black as the howling of the drums of war filled my ears.
"D-dad wh-what happened? Where are we? What are you wearing? Dad what is going on?"
"Don't worry son, ill protect you but first we need to get you some gear."
"LOK'TAR OGAR!!!"
My head snapped around as a gargantuan green skinned humanoid creature appeared out of nowhere, with an axe thrice the size of my own body, swinging towards me at a speed that shouldn't have been possible. Only to be met by a sword that glowed as if having flames of ice, if that were even possible, wielded by none other than my own father.
I watched as a golden bubble appeared around me, which ironically did help me to relax despite the situation unfolding in front of me.
I watched as my dad materialized a brilliant golden shield from thin air throwing it towards the giant before slamming him with the physical counterpart. As the giant stumbled back in a daze the very ground beneath them cracked into a dazzling light, cracks in the earth spreading around the two as they exchanged blows. A sound in the trees caused the green beast to lose his focus just long enough for my dad to take the advantage.
"Back to outlands with you!" My father screamed as he drove his sword deep through the creature all the way down to the hilt where an elaborate skull that seemed to have its own life rested right above where i assumed the creatures heart lied.
My father bent down over the now lifeless creature placing his hand on the ground. In an instant all the creatures armor and his weapon dematerialized off the corpse. "Well glad to know that at least works." He mumbled as he turned towards me. "Here son its not the greatest but it'll do for now"
"Dad.... what the FUCK is going on??"
"I'll explain as soon as we're out of trouble, we have a very long way to go..."
(Quick edit: hey all let me know what you guys think, was a super quick write before i started work and wouldn't mind continuing if people ask for it!)
Part 2 below!
[Visit my subreddit for continuous updates](reddit.com/r/SadornaWrites/) | The dense undergrowth slows our progress considerably. Tightly packed vines and leaves wipe away the rivulets of sweat on my arms and legs, snapping back to glisten in the few rays of sunlight that penetrate this deep into the jungle.
"What about dinner?" I ask, concerned.
Dad is a few feet ahead of me, hacking a path with a machete. "This game is a time warp, Riles," he says. "One week in-game is only about one hour out of it." The machete makes a satisfying whacking sound with every swing. "We'll be back in time for dinner."
Sound is all around me. Wind rustles through the foliage. A monkey cackles. What must be thousands of birds sing to each other in the crisscrossing canopy overhead. I pick up a bright yellow flower whose stem was cut in half and take a long drawn-out sniff. Wonderful.
"I can't believe we're in a video game," I say. "This is insane."
Dad drops to his knees, the machete gripped firmly in his right hand. "Get down!"
I'm still lost in it all. The sounds. The smells. The dashes of bright color overlaying every shade of green. A hand grabs at my leg and flips me to the ground.
"What the fuck, da-" A hand clamps over my mouth and my dad's face is suddenly very, very close. The intensity in his eyes stuns me into silence.
Minutes pass. I watch as a mighty column of ants march by, the little creatures oblivious to our world. Dad is listening for something intently, his breathing measured.
I notice shapes of men materializing in the distance, shadows glimpsed in between patches of foliage, calling to one another quietly as they come closer. Dad seems to be counting them, his hand grips the machete so hard it looks the color of bone.
"This is just a game dad," I whisper. "Why are you afraid?"
Dad's eyes flick to me for a second before going back to scan for the oncoming humans.
"Games are about winning, son. Stay here," he says, then he disappears into the greenery.
I hear shouts followed by the harsh clacks of frantic machine gunfire. Terrified screams join the gunfire to pierce the otherwise deafening silence, the jungle's creatures have all fled or gone into hiding. One by one, the screams are abruptly cut off. I hear a pleading gurgle that sounds like someone begging for his life, until that too is silent. The jungle is quiet now. Dead quiet, the only sound the ringing in my ears.
Dad reappears like a ghost, his right arm soaked in red and his machete broken in half, blood dripping from the cruel, jagged edge where the blade snapped. I look at him blankly. It all feels so real.
"It's a video game, son," he says, like he can read my mind. Breathing heavily, he puts his left hand - the one not drenched in blood - on my shoulder.
"Remember. We are in a time warp. We will be home in time for dinner."
I nod, a flash of doubt flitting across my face.
Dad peers down at me, concerned. "What did I tell you, son?" he asks.
I look up at him, seeking comfort in his infallibility. "Stay low. Stay quiet. Listen, follow, obey." | 2019-07-16T08:16:13 | 2019-07-16T06:42:52 | 21 | 14 |
[WP] You've died. You expected to be judged in the Afterlife, but all you see now is God and Satan disappointingly sigh at you and simultaneously scold: "We look away for five months and you died AGAIN?!" | You give a nervous chuckle. "Yep, I'm here again..."
Satan glared at you. "How did you die this time!? All the demons have been in check!" God nods in agreement. "All the angels have been as perfect as ever. Maybe you died from natural cause?"
"Heh, well it was another demon," you mutter. Satan quickly spoke up and said "God gave you a cross to avoid this! That's impossible!"
"Well...maybe they took it off with an angel's help?" You suggested, avoiding all eye contact with the two.
"C'mooon!" The demon's voice from the other night boomed in your head. "It's just one drink! What's the worst that'll happen?"
"I guess..." your voice responded with. One drink turned into two which turned into three, and three drinks eventually turned into ten. If the car crash you got into didn't kill you, the alcohol poisoning probably would have.
God sighed. "Now, now, let's not point fingers. Let's figure out what to do. Maybe it really is your time this time."
Your eyes widened. "No! I can't die! I'm so close to finding a way to close the opening to Hell!"
"That's what you said last time!" Satan bellowed. "Yet, demons are still escaping to the human world!"
"I know, I know, I- I just need a bit more time, please...!" Your voice shook.
God sighed again. "I think we should allow one more chance."
Satan groaned. "I'm getting sick of this..."
"Are you sure that'll work?" You heard yourself asking the night before.
"Of course," the demon assured you, "just follow my lead."
"Alright," God said after a moment of silence, "we will allow you one more chance."
"And you need to get this done!" The devil demanded.
"Yes, of course!" You say. "Thank you so much!"
You gasp, bolting upright. You looked around at your surroundings. You were laid next to a burning car, the body of the demon from the night before laying next to you. There wasn't a scratch on him, just as expected. "Well?" You ask. "Got what you need?"
"All of it," the demon's voice came out of your mouth. "As long as he thinks the demons are in check, we will be good. So, they expect you to close the opening to Hell?"
"Yes," you respond with your own voice. "Your body is untouched, too."
"Perfect. Once I get back into my body, you and I can start our outbreak."
You chuckle. "It's gonna be one HELL of a time."
"Oh, shut up..." | I'm dead. I don't remember dying, but the place I'm in now has an air of finality to it. And dark green linoleum tiles on the floor. Just as I'm starting to accept my own demise, God and Satan stride in through a set of double doors at the far end of the nondescript room.
I'm no good at reading faces, but theirs are speaking to me loud and clear. It's the "how did you manage this fuckup" look that my wife used to give me. It's one thing coming from your significant other and a whole other when two major deities -- neither of whom I believe in -- are doing it.
They look at each other for a moment and then both say, at the same time, "We look away for five months, and here you are, AGAIN." Satan adds, "Dead, again."
"Um... Sorry?" Seems like a safe answer right then.
"How hard could it be? You don't have an impossible task on your shoulders. No geas. No curse. Nothing. All you need to do is not die until it's your time. Is that too much to ask?" The king of Hell sounds almost desperate. "You walked in front of a bus, for Hell's sake!"
"I...um..." I get a flash of memory. Some guy is chatting at me. He’s shoving something into my face, asking about a deal. And a glimpse of brightly colored wings. "I saw a butterfly."
Satan turns to God and smacks his forehead. "She saw a butterfly."
"Look, child," says the ruler of the heavenly host. "It's important to me -- to us -- that you survive. You'll die, like everyone else, in your own time."
"Why?" The word is out of my mouth before I can think about it too hard.
"It doesn't matter," Satan says.
God contradicts, "Your life is precious to us."
My gaze lingers between the two of them. There's a glaring contest going on and I realize I don't want to know what those two are on about. In fact, I'm beginning to suspect that this is not about me at all. But there was the butterfly.
"Sorry?" I try again.
"Why don't we send you back," God says with a nod. "And maybe try a little harder to stay alive, all right? Remember, keep your wits about you. There's absolutely no reason for you to get hit by a bus."
"OK."
Satan growls. "You trust her?"
God shrugs and grumbles something under his breath. Louder he says, "You're the one who predicted that she would bring the world to its knees if she died early."
"I did,” Satan agrees, “But now..."
For a moment, God is silent. Then, he says to Satan, "Well, you were right." He turns to me. "Now back you go, Madam President. I believe the reporter standing over your body is about to have a heart attack himself."
"Um..."
The world goes dark. Goodbye, green linoleum.
Back in the waiting room of the dispossessed, the two deities exchange currency and mutter obscenities. | 2019-07-17T15:18:01 | 2019-07-17T15:13:13 | 410 | 263 |
[WP] Turns out humanity was alone in the universe because they were way too early to the party. Now, billions of years later aliens find a strange planet, Earth, and begin to unveil the secrets of the first intelligent species. | When first we set foot on that tarnished land, a scorched sliver of utopia, there was a single word that came to mind:
Tragedy.
The initial scouts were shocked to find remnants of a magical, adolescent species on a planet with no apparent atmosphere--and, upon closer inspection, we discovered that there are traces of an oxegynated layer, churning and sparse, like silent static. A hidden remnant cursed to dance over the remains of what it once shielded from harm. Such is the cruelty of nature.
We do not know what they would have looked like--our excavation efforts are still underway, but the baked soil is laden with mineral and rock, far too noisy to scan beyond. What we do know is that they died long ago, perhaps before any known species ever lived, before the formation of intergalactic searches and the pursuit of new life. Before our coalitions and technological integrations.
Before any of us.
They were alone on a budding planet, clawing their way towards greatness. Ruins of what must have once been structures that reached for the stars, monuments to their own feats--we even found traces of their efforts on an orbiting moon, and have hung the unique tapestries in the Iotian Gallery for all to see. Other debris and strange crafts were found drifting through the system, the scattered hopes and dreams of lonely beings desperate for an answer of any kind.
I like to think they would've been our friends. A guiding hand that knows through toiling experience what it means to fight from the soil to the sky, to deliver themselves into the ceaseless stream of fate and scream, "*We will be heard!*"
For this, we remember them. Not as mysteries, but as mentors. Not for their demise, but for their struggle in an impossibly large and unforgiving void without meaning or sense. To think that they perished unsure of their place in this puzzle is wounding.
And yet, even in the still-warm corpse of that tragic planet, not all was lost. Hidden among history, there were microbes, and small, arid flora tucked away in the shadows of whatever came before them. A final testament that, against any odds, not even catastrophe can end the virulent cycle of evolution. A rejection of the end in what little way was possible.
The dying breath of premature gods.
---
*/r/resonatingfury* | **Year 17,341 (approximately 6,451 cycles) of Sentient Life: Day 431
197 Billion cycles since the creation of the universe.**
Today is an exciting day, we have began receiving communications from a new light spectrum we have never observed before. It is a fairly primitive communication method, but sounds and images are pouring in now.
Initial calculations seem to indicate these came from a region of space that we have yet to explore, and are about 188 billion cycles old. From all observations of the known universe that means this planet had intelligent life almost 20 billion cycles sooner than any previous estimate in the universe.
**Year 17,345 (approximately 6,451 cycles) of Sentient Life: Day 231
197 Billion cycles since the creation of the universe.**
Initial translations name this planet Terra or Earth. They seem to be a bi-pedal species that had developed some limited solar travel, and was on a small water dominant planet about 19,0000 cycles from their galactic core moving at the speed of light.
Calculations have begun about using warp technology to investigate this planet. I am in contention to be a member of the science team.
**Year 17,350 (approximately 6,452 cycles) of Sentient Life: Day 11
198 Billion cycles since the creation of the universe.**
We have made 16 jumps and are now approaching Earth.
I was placed in charge of the science team, which means I'm 3rd in command of this mission over all. The diplomacy team of course is first, and Xiera is the lead of the defense force, making her second in charge.
Our goal is to observe this planet and see if life is still abundant, as well as if the humans have left any data we can collect.
**Year 17,353 (approximately 6,452 cycles) of Sentient Life: Day 412
198 Billion cycles since the creation of the universe.**
The black dwarf that was once their star helped us find their planet. Long since stripped of any life or atmosphere, the Earth remains. Initial scans of the planet's surface left no evidence of any structures.
Deep core scans have revealed that some large storage was created and injected under the crust of the planet. After some drilling, we were able to access the datacore. We have no way of interfacing with it as their technology is so alien.
After additional drilling it was possible to extract the entire unit.
We are now en route to home, and our top technologists are trying to bridge the gap between our tech and theirs.
This planet held life, and had a star that died out, blew up, and then fizzled away long before our planet even held the beginnings of life. We may never know their secrets, but we will continue to gather their signals, and hopefully learn lessons about the history of the universe.
Edit: Fixed a word | 2019-08-13T14:41:19 | 2019-08-13T13:13:49 | 4,809 | 1,705 |
[WP] Turns out humanity was alone in the universe because they were way too early to the party. Now, billions of years later aliens find a strange planet, Earth, and begin to unveil the secrets of the first intelligent species. | The monument was smaller than T'rakkar had expected. It was less than ten meters in height, a simple laser-etched plaque in granite. In the first few years it had been built, when the remains of the First World had been discovered, there had been a rush of tourists to the site. The wonders of economics had, within a month, caused a hundred thousand orbiting viewing platforms to spring into existence around the dying white dwarf the First World still orbited, and tickets had been ten times the annual worker's salary. The downside, he mused, to a truly galactic economy; the richest one percent were quadrillions in number.
What had it been like, back then? A species confined to one world, gazing at the stars, mere billions strong? A stray meteor, an accidental misalignment of a neutron star all it would take to wipe out all trace of your genetic lineage. The thought made him shudder; he, at least, had left eggs on a score of worlds. With any luck, his legacy would continue on for billions of years to come.
T'rakkar had never considered himself a spiritual person. His colony was a practical minded one, his crechemates likewise focused on material matters. Indeed, their colony produced some of the finest engineers among the T'karan, so he couldn't fault the philosophy.
But here, in front of a simple plaque on a blasted rock around a dying star, he felt a sense of wonder that hadn't stirred since he was a larva.
"Hello," he read, "We are the human race. By the time you receive this message, we will be dead. There are many challenges a species must face. By the time you can understand this message, you will have overcome many of them. We hope you had an easier time than we did."
It was a famous passage, from the middle of the Codex. The ancient message passed along through every intelligent species. A fitting inscription for this place, he decided. Every larva had read it a hundred times; but he continued anyway. Sometimes the place the message was received was as important as the message itself.
"The first challenge you faced was survival. You were born on a world teeming with life, with predators that hunted you, with parasites that weakened you, with diseases that struck you down. We congratulate your ancestors on overcoming a challenge that so few species do, of birthing a race that was strong and smart enough to dominate your world.
"The second challenge you faced was yourselves. Only the strong survive, and the strong survive by taking from the weak. We congratulate your species on overcoming the tragedy of strength to build a civilization where all members worked together for the good of all."
T'rakkar smiled, his antennae curling. Even among a hive species, "the good of all" had never been achievable. He wondered what kind of psychology and evolutionary pressures humans must have had to achieve that level of cohesion.
"The third challenge you face is the world. By the time you can read this message, you will have achieved an understanding of the world strong enough to master it. So too did we. We pass our knowledge to you, for knowledge hoarded is knowledge wasted. We ask that you broadcast this message in its entirety, to ease others suffering as this will ease yours.
"The fourth challenge you face will be despair. For once you have mastered the world, what else is left? You will be divorced from the cycles your ancestors evolved in. You will face challenges they were never designed to handle. You will be lost, alone, and confused. And you will suffer.
"You will face many more challenges besides, but we are ashamed to admit we do not know what they are, for we never overcame this one. We achieved a form of paradise on our planet. No human has felt hunger in millennia; no labor has been performed that was not volunteered. And yet our species will die, sooner or later, because we are alone. Because without challenge, there is no meaning to life.
"We, the authors of this message, call ourselves Arecibo, and we foretell our demise. We send this message as a warning and as a message of hope. Rejoice, because you are not alone. Look up at the stars, and know: we were here. Our existence was preposterously unlikely; our survival even more so. We hope that this message makes any future existence merely unlikely. Look up at the stars, and fear. Look up at the stars, and wonder."
He wondered if humanity knew just how much good their message had done. His own species had been in the middle of a cold war that would likely have lead to their annihilation when they received the Codex. Historians and politicians had argued about exactly what it had done for decades. Had the advanced technology provided simply reduced the resource pressures and averted war? It certainly had reduced tensions, but hives had declared war over lesser things. Had the humans' message of hope truly touched the hearts of their ancestors? Some people found it inspiring; yet T'rakkar had never been among them. The dead were dead, and their society had long since surpassed the humans'.
Yet all throughout the galaxy, species had received the Codex, and almost every species that did had survived.
T'rakkar looked up at the stars. He wondered how different they would have looked, otherwise. | "Mannaseraie... Mannaseraie..., MANNASERAIE!"
The words jolt me from my third-state reverie and I am shamed. To delve so deeply into a memory is a failure of one kind, but this! This cannot stand! How can I hope to return to first-state lucidity and my work if my mind traps me within waking dreams?
The quisitor is attractive, with a velvet thorax that gleams scarlet under the fluorescent lights, just like that of my mate, Xerian. But no... I cannot have that thought. Xerian is gone, and so are Havlor and Parssasian, and that is a third-state reverie I cannot bear. I will not lose whatever dignity I have left to me in this room.
"Mannaseraie Belshia," the quisitor says to me, and I lift my mottle to stop its speech.
"As it pleases me, I am not a Mannaseraie in this room," I say. "You will call me Belshia."
The quisitor acquiesces. This is the only time I have claimed my rank with it; I am content to let it drive the remainder of our time together. "Belshia, my query is this--when you found the probe of the First Ones, and it led you to their home planet, what did you see there that unsettled you? What did you see that has caused you to have problems with maintaining first-state lucidity?"
I pause to answer, and this time the quisitor lifts its mottle to interrupt me. Within, I am happy for this, for I am able to quell another surge from within. The grief, the sorrow, the wisdom... the resonance. "Belshia--I know about the loss of Xerian and your progeny. It is clear that loss is integrated with what you found on," and here it pauses to check its screen, "Earth? Such a weird name--do you agree? You would think there would be thousands of different names for their home world based on all the cultures we know about, but it's always 'Earth', or 'Terra'." The quisitor runs its mottle down its thorax as an indication of second-state abstract thinking, and I hope it doesn't notice my spirules expand just a little. It has been a long time since I have last known intimacy.
"But I digress--it is clear that the loss is integrated from an incident in your expedition team," the quisitor continues, "when you went to the smallest continent. Can you please explain it to me? It is my hope that we can apply second-state logic to begin identifying the triggers that slip you into third-state."
I feel the reverie begin to swell, my mind slipping at its edges into the immediacy of the hallucination. So I begin talking, because that will forestall my eventual loss of lucidity.
"We were navigating a series of ravines around one of the few intact bunkers on the smallest continent," I said. "The solar radiation and engulfment by Earth's star in its red giant phase burned away everything else. But somehow that bunker was still there. Billions of cycles old--I have no explanation for why it still existed, but that doesn't matter. It was the greatest historical find in all our history--in all that is perhaps of the universal continuum." I swallow, air pushing down my spiculae and removing the globs of spittle that surge up when I'm stressed.
"I had put the loss of my family away into second-state reverie because there was nothing I could do. What can you do when there is a dimensional discontinuity that obliterates the ship your mate and spawn are traveling in, to come to you? When you are thousands of light years away? I thought I was keeping myself in prime working form, until I saw the child."
"It was a... the term is 'human', child, in a spacesuit outside the bunker. Billions of years old, yet the suit was intact thanks to the vacuum. The ridge that housed the bunker managed to protect the suit from severe radiation. I came round a large boulder and saw it, sitting there, its helmet staring out at the stars."
The memories come, and through sheer will I hold them back, describing them while refusing to let them carry me away into a deep dream. I will keep my dignity, by all that I have left and by the memory of my family! "I could not see within the glass, and perhaps I did not need to. But in that moment I knew that this human child had died while looking at the stars. That its atmosphere was gone and there was no hope left within its species. But it went outside into the void to stare up at us, hoping we would come save it."
I cough up the spittle now, freely, and the quisitor pretends that I am still in control of my presence. I haven't coughed this hard since the Forever Rite for Xerian and my spawn. "The thing is, quisitor, we did. I did. I have my memory of it. We recorded it. We saved the data and the information in that bunker, we found the other bunkers. We know now what the humans did, what their wars and their hopes and dreams were. But we were billions of cycles too late. Just like I was too late."
"All I can do is move forward, quisitor." I say. "Because to do anything else means that the child died for nothing. That my mate and my spawn died for nothing. I am doing the best I can."
The quisitor flushes, and it is the deepest blue of empathy I have ever seen. "I understand, Belshia. Thank you for telling me. This, is where we can begin." | 2019-08-13T15:04:00 | 2019-08-13T14:26:37 | 858 | 283 |
[WP] Turns out humanity was alone in the universe because they were way too early to the party. Now, billions of years later aliens find a strange planet, Earth, and begin to unveil the secrets of the first intelligent species. | In a distant part of the galaxy there was a star, a burned-out white dwarf. And around this star spun a rock, wiped clean by the star's expansion in the distant past.
Frozen in ice, with a single ring around it, it sent out signals at the speed of light, and had been for billions of years. It was a curiosity, and no amount of excavation had been able to find the signal's source.
The message was clear: "We are here! We are here!" But of the messengers, none remained.
It was a major discovery to find small objects made of gold, an element known for its stability. Rings, necklaces, even coins buried in various places, far beneath the ice. Around the galaxy, theories were crafted and thrown around like no tomorrow. The best evidence available suggested a civilization created 2-5 billion years before what was previously thought to be the earliest-known lifeform.
But those small objects were it. There was nothing else. Nothing to else suggest a small sentient species far from the center of galaxy-spanning empires had *been*.
And then, decades later, on one of the small orbiting chunks of the planet's ring, the source of the signals was found. A small, rectangular sheet of steel encased in gold, holding a small transmitter. On it were many symbols, writing of some sort. So many academics spent years, decades trying to decipher the message of the First Ones.
And when they did, they cried. For it was a message of peace, of accomplishment, of hope. Though the First Ones were alone, and now gone, they had never stopped striving.
"Here men from the planet Earth first set foot upon the moon, July 1969 A.D. We came in peace for all mankind." | In a language both grating to hear and difficult to master, yet immensely more elegant than any human tongue, an open report is given to a board of exoarchaeologists and exoanthropologists.
"On the topic of Earth, first findings and contact, from the expedition lead Enchri, the lead researcher Ravme, and the warp-bridge consulting specialist Carm. I am Ravme and will begin with the background, where Carm and Enchri will proceed with background and findings. Please, feel free to interject if any clarifications are needed or if any questions arise." Ravme paused and straightened her unaccustomed formal wear before continuing.
"In 1837 we recorded the first now confirmed transmission from the Terran, or Earthling, population. For ease of annunciation I'll refer to them as Terrans from here on out. From this transmission alone we could not locate the origin, and the transmission itself was erratic due to the distance traveled, but due to the following transmissions over the next 300 years we were able to triangulate the source galaxy, one from 30.2 billion light-years away. This distance was unfathomable at the time, but we did have concrete recordings and data describing an evolutionary and descendant species not dissimilar to Carm's species, the Undyne, or the Felchor of the Uma system.
"In the following 2,800 years stories of this Terran race popped in and out of, if you forgive the pun, universal culture, seemingly revived by each discovery of a new species in or branch, neighborhood, or cluster. We attribute this resurgence to be the cause of continued interest in Terra and its people, and the reason we're able to stand before you today.
"As you know, recent discoveries in the infinite probability interactions of matter-antimatter reactions within a null-point field have catapulted intergalactic transport to new levels. We took advantage of this new technology with field-leader, and exo enthusiast, Carm, to both make the first multi-billion light-year leap, and to glimpse the planet of our shared interest. Before I hand off to Enchri to describe the events following the jump, do we have any questions?" | 2019-08-13T15:13:02 | 2019-08-13T14:53:50 | 138 | 42 |
[WP] You are a child's "imaginary friend". You are a guardian angel. And your kid is really, really stupid. | Greetings once more, Child. I am Hadramiel, Angel Of He Who Is Named "I Am", who walks beside you with the compassion and grace of the Lord, and I am here to say unto you: Thou shalt not try to eat your lego blocks, thou little shit. Giveth me them.
Giveth them.
Mine name is Hadramiel, Majesty Of The Lord. It is not "Mr Shinypants". Thou Shalt stop drawing that crayon drawing of me. I do not play with kittens.
Thou shalt not sticketh thy crayons up thy nose, lest thee suffocate. Yea, thou should have learnt that by now, thou bloody moron.
Harken unto my message. I said harken unto it. *Stop putting things in your ears and harken*!
Ahem
Mine name is Hadramiel, Majesty Of The Lord, and thou hast been granted a great destiny in the will of the Lord to... wait. Where the *fuck* did you go?
How did thou get up a tree? Thou cannot get down? If only thou had stayeth near the Mighty Angel With Wings. Fine. Cometh here.
As I was saying- thou art up the tree again.
Lo, do I, Hadramiel, Majesty Of The Lord, say unto you "fuck this". Once More I ascend unto heaven to file a formal complaint.
Get thyself out of the tree, thou whiny brat.
\*sigh\*
Fine. I shalt show mercy and save thou, child.
Yea, thou may have a hug.
But next time thou behold a large frothing dog and decide thou must pet it, yea and verily, I'm *done* with this shit. | Oh boy. Where do I start? My name is Katie. I am a single mom, with three children. I could be spending my days with them, but instead, I am stuck with this 24/7 job that honestly, is so fucking stupid, which is ironic, because so is the child I look over.
His names Tim. He’s a sweet child, but sooo fucking dumb. I mean just the other day he decided to run away. Luckily, I got him to return home. Which sure, a 4 year old probably wouldn’t get too far, but, I shit you not, He wanted to stay on the roof. Not someone else’s roof, but his own.
I didn’t plan on introducing myself. I was going to simply stay in the shadows, get the job sone, and head home to MY kids. Unfortunately, his stupidity caused me to run into him. Now he thinks i’m his “imaginary friend”. And guess what he calls me? Bubbles. Such an idiotic, cliche name. Why would he- how could he- be so uncreative? I say that, but it takes a renaissance man to come up with ideas he has.
Anyways, thanks to this kid, I’m on the verge of turning. I spin my days looking after him and praying for some xanax. I have tried to run away, I have BEGGED my boss for a change in kid, but he keeps on refusing.
Now you may be wondering, if I hate him so much, why don’t I just quit? Why don’t I just pack up and leave? And i’ve thought about it. And I was in the verge on moving to Hell, but I realized something. This kid, well, he’s alone a lot. His parents are either out partying or working. He often stays with his grandmother who barely pays attention to him. It has hit me he simply wants someone to be with.
This kid is my kid too. He has been and always will be. He may be dumb, but he is also a kid who deserves someone, seen or not seem. And so, as I have been with the dope, I have learned to love him- as Bubbles or Katie.
(Sorry if there is any typos!) | 2019-10-31T13:59:26 | 2019-10-31T12:32:47 | 245 | 19 |
[WP] Genetics is everything. There are scales for wisdom, might, HP and mana, that are used on babies right after birth. You were born into an elitist family that discarded you after seeing your mana. What they didn't know is that you were the top 99.99% in dexterity, and you hold grudges. | His name was Talysien.
He was a little older than me, with messy brown hair and silver eyes. I... I'm ashamed to say that I was actually a little scared of him when Miss Elena took him into our home. But I was scared. He was just...strange, somehow. And there was something scary about him. Though he was kinda shy too.
Talysien didn't speak much. He would smile - just a little, but the smile never reached his eyes. It was...well, it made me feel uneasy.
Miss Elena told me he actually didn't have a name at first - so she named him. I was surprised, because what kinda family didn't give names to their kids? Did they forget or something? Honestly, adults can be *so* stupid sometimes.
Anyway, Talys (his name was just way too *long)* and I didn't talk much. Not at first, anyway. Not until...
"So, um.... Mika... what're you doing?"
I blinked, pausing in the middle of gathering the pretty leaves. They were just *so* pretty - especially now cause it was... what did Miss Elena say...autumn? Or something.
Wait, did Talys just talk?
"Did you just talk?"
Immediately he flushed and started to stammer, making me feel bad. "I'm sorry, should I not have -"
"No no no no, I'm sorry. I was just surprised," I said quickly. "Come on, let's put some leaves together and jump on them. It's fun!"
"But how is it fun?" he asked, bewildered.
I sighed. Silly Talys. Are all boys that silly? "Secret. Now come on, help me."
Anyway, we started to talk more. Miss Elena was really pleased about it, especially when he asked her a question one day in the kitchen. She was practically singing! Adults are *sooo* weird, I tell you.
Eventually we just became best friends. The rest of the town found it kinda weird sometimes, but me and Talys just didn't care. We ended up learning and doing a buncha stuff together. The Hunter's Guild took him in after one of our, er, adventures when we were running away from orcs and he ended up shooting one of them in the eye with a bow and arrow. Me? I was... well, I might have thrown some bombs at them.
What? I was bored, so I made some! (Miss Elena was *not* pleased. On the other hand, I got into the Alchemist Guild! Yay!)
I was fifteen and he was seventeen when he told me how Miss Elena found him.
"I was kicked out of my family cause I have no magic," he said to me bitterly as we sat on a tree branch, high away from the ground and swinging our legs. "Bunch of jerks, the lot of them. I swear, Mika, one day, I'll kill them all."
"And I'll help you," I promised. I remembered the old days - the days when he was so shy and afraid. Talys had been so *shy.* So scared of everything.
Talys smiled. A rare, genuine one that lit his face and reached his eyes. "Thanks, Mika."
\--
Which led us to now.
Twirling my trusty gun with my hand, I scanned the surroundings with a practiced eye. Being an alchemist - especially one of my town's - meant that I was no stranger to danger.
Smoke seeped out from several parts of the mansion, courtesy of my custom bombs. They had been crafted by me just for this alone. Talys stood in front of me, staring straight at the row of bound men and women with an unflinching gaze. His bow and arrows slung across his shoulder with easy grace.
"Well how does it feel?" he spoke lowly. "*Mother and father.*"
One of them - with the same brown hair as Talys - recoiled as realization began to dawn. "No..."
"Oh yes," Talys cut in sharply, baring his fangs. "You didn't think I would come back for you, but here we are."
"I - we -"
"I have no time to listen to you. You have *no* right to speak to me," Talys hissed. "So here's what's going to happen. We -" he pointed to myself and him. "Are going to let you run into the forest, here." He gestured towards the greenery in front.
"And we - or well, *I* \- am going to hunt you. Cause you see...I might not have magic, but I have *excellent aim.*" | Leopold, sweet Leopold the Alchemist. To the village, he's a kindly old man a saint, selling the potions at 40% of what a big city potion sellers would. What the saps don't know is that Leopold's potions are so diluted that they only are about 10% as effective. Of course, if someone is about to die, he'll bust out the good stuff as a 'charitable gift' to cover his operation, but he's sucking these people dry all because he'd burned a few Barons back in the capital and was chased off.
He justifies it to himself though, he's working on the Elixer of Eternal Life after all and he needs funding. If it takes some podunk farmer a week to heal off an accidental pitchfork wound rather than the day a normal potion would heal it in, it's all worth it for the end goal and he's so close. The Unicorn Hoof Dust and Dragon Nail have just arrived, the mixture of Harpy feather, Salamander Liver, and diluted Manticore venom have been fermenting for 20 years. All he has to do is add these final ingredients and concentrate his mana into the cauldron for 3 days and Eternal life is his.
He's been working for this for so long. Ever since the night, his father passed him the recipe for dealing with the family's little problem. "Take your brother out into the woods to play Leopold, Make sure he has a good time," his father had said as Leopold led the boy away from the Manor home, and Leopold did he took the boy far into the woods deeper than his mother would have ever let him. Leopold even gave the boy sweets, and when that boy woke up hours later and Leopold was gone. He'd realized that Leopold had taken him so far away from the house he couldn't even see the smoke of the chimneys and any paths he followed lead him in circles. Later that boy would realize that Leopold had shown him mercy, he could have used something stronger than sleeping potion. He'd repay that kindness, of those who wronged him, Leopold would be the one who lived.
Though Leopold still needed to be punished for ripping the boy from his mother. Leopold didn't know this however he was hard at work focusing his mana, he had been in his twenties when he got the recipe, he was in his forties now. He still looked good, but grey hairs were starting to show. His body was slowing down. If he failed here, the next time he could try to complete the potion, he'd be old and grey and living forever like that would seem more like a curse than a gift.
It was on day three that I decided to act. I'd been watching dear Leopold for some time. Leopold's scamming of royalty had made him easy to track, there were more than enough people putting bounties on his head and alchemists were boasters and gossips, so it wasn't difficult to learn what he was attempting, it was a simple matter extracting the recipe from a former colleague of Leopold's and than searching for a man fitting his description in the market for Unicorn Hoof or Dragon Nail. I wonder if he appreciated my gift? Unicorns are a terror to keep a bead on.
Now I sat on a cliffside overlooking his humble country lab. Waiting for the perfect moment. With my eagle eyes, I could see poor Leopold barely able to keep awake after three days of concentration. According to his hourglass, there was only one minute left. So I lined up my shot, thinking I should go right for the shot but decided to have a bit of fun. I took aim and fired.
The bolt flew from my crossbow striking the bottom of the window ricocheting off the stone and smashing through the glass, Leopold twitched but kept his concentration, the bolt changed trajectory into the chandelier above, giving what I assume was a metal clang causing him to twitch again. Leopold steadied on though 10 seconds left, the bolt traveled downward into a few alchemical tools, causing many tinks, and bangs but Leopold stayed strong, managing to keep his focus until the last second the liquid turning into a shimmering rainbow as my bolt flew right past him into the bottom of his cauldron puncturing it.
Leopold opened his eyes, his face filling with glee that was quickly replaced with terror as the liquid in his cauldron began to sink, pouring out the bottom into the drain. Leopold screamed as he tried to scoop some of the liquid into his mouth, Silly Leopold you know you needed to drink the full thing for it to work. As the cauldron soon completely emptied into the drain Leopold curled up on the floor, the movement of his back showing he was sobbing. Satisfied I began to pack up my camp, I hope Leopold was pleased with the mercy I showed him, he'd never know it but he was going to be faring much better than the rest of my family. | 2020-02-28T02:11:03 | 2020-02-28T00:54:17 | 138 | 60 |
[WP] Genetics is everything. There are scales for wisdom, might, HP and mana, that are used on babies right after birth. You were born into an elitist family that discarded you after seeing your mana. What they didn't know is that you were the top 99.99% in dexterity, and you hold grudges. | “How dare you return to this house?!?”
My eldest brother’s accusatory cry echoed through my family’s hallowed halls.
I didn’t even deem him with a reply. Any words I wanted to say were for my father’s ears only.
“So be it, you die in silence” my brothers last words were punctuated with flying spittle.
Even before my brother started tracing the same runes in the air that I’ve seen thousands of times, I knew which spell he would choose to fling at me. He always went for the same. I watched his wizards duels for years and learned all of his tricks and tactics.
Sure enough, he started summoning a simple fireball. Poor fool thought that would be enough to finish me. I waited as the fireball was hurtling toward me until it was so close I could feel it’s heat singing my eyebrows and I stepped out of its path.
“How did you....” My brother never got to fully express his disbelief because I had already moved up to him and buried my dagger deep in his abdomen. I smiled at him as the light faded from his surprised eyes.
While pulling my dagger out of him, I quickly glanced around. The house guards were already bearing down on me, advancing from the courtyard after hearing my brother’s shouting.
This should be fun.
I dodged and weaved through clumsy downward slashes and wild stabs, giggling all the while. Each guard I slew with a single strike, stopping just long enough for the others to fully mark my position before I blurred toward my next target.
This was indeed fun.
The alarm was ringing through the compound by now, but it didn’t matter. Let them try to run, so far I’ve never met anyone faster than me.
As I dashed towards my parents quarters, I saw my father’s escort through a window looking out behind the walls. I needed to pick up the pace and quickly. I decided to squeeze through the window and drop to the ground below.
My father’s guard had a comfortable head start, but I closed the distance in seconds without even breaking a sweat. Ever since I was born, everything simply moved slowly compared to me. I bet my father is regretting discarding me for my weak reservoir of magic now.
In a flurry of quick stabs I finished the troop of guards and stood in front of my father, the head of our mighty house. He looked furious. Furious at me, but perhaps more furious at himself for allowing me to become the one to kill him.
“I always though I would die at the hands of one of the rival houses, and not by my own flesh and blood.”
“That’s just it father, I stopped being your blood the day you tossed me to the streets. Now, i will be the one to toss your corpse to the dogs.”
I moved to stab him with my dagger but it caught on an invisible force a few inches from him. The old man was powerful, no doubt about it, but I’ve been planning this from the day I found out who my parents were and how they discarded me.
I rained down attack after attack on his protective spell and when his vision was hampered by the multitude of refractions from my strikes I dashed around him and stabbed him neatly in the back of the head just below the part where the neck meets the skull.
“I bet you feel foolish now father. The son you declared too weak for your line has now brought down your ancient house. Hurts dun-nit?” I used the local patois just to piss him off all the more before he finally left this plane of existence. When he was dead, I threw back my head and laughed at the moon. I felt high, higher than I was that one time the wandering shaman gave me something he called peyote.
As I turned back toward the house I thought I saw a shadow out of the corner of my eye. Before I could turn toward it, I felt something bitterly cold touch the same spot on the back of my neck where I finished my father. A split second later the cold turned to searing heat and blinding pain.
I dropped to my knees in the sand.
“Son, it breaks my heart to do you so, but you should never have returned”
I recognized the voice even though I’ve never heard it before. I just knew who it belonged to.
It was my mother. I guess there was someone faster than me after all. | Cause and Effect
&#x200B;
Chapter 1 Cause
Discarded like common rubbish, cast out, thrown away, abandoned, discarded. Call it whatever you will, I simply call it a cause.
On one hand I can't blame them, every child tends to find out what their base genome was when they were born, if only to measure their improvement, or figure out their job placement, find their best match for their own kids.
Not that I found out for those reasons of course. I simply tried to find out why my parents did what they did. Now I know why they did it, but I also know who they were now, as well as a few things that even they didn't know.
The technology my parents used on me would be considered ancient and not nearly as informative as they are now. While they used to reveal stuff like our health potential, or magic potential, and strength. Now the tests reveal all sort of hidden little quirks, in my case, while my genetics for health and magic and strength were abysmal, my speed, my nimbleness is something else.
Now sure, how could speed and nimbleness help a kid like me survive in a world brutish thugs break bones at the slightest provocation, and slingers burn you ash with slightest breath.
Normally it wouldn't but then it's all a matter of just how fast someone is. Turn out, I'm one of the fastest. The brutes can't break a bone of someone they can't catch, and a quick punch to a throat prevents a slinger from getting a breath out to call down the fire. Learning these things took a lot of trial and error...and a lot of pain.
Curiously pain led to rage, rage at a world that casts out the unwanted, at a world where parents give up those kids they don't want because some test said they weren't worth it, and rage at my parents for casting me out.
Chapter 2 Effect
This rage led me to find out who I was, who were the parents who cast me out.
&#x200B;
I confronted my father first, A politician at his core however he chose the world of business instead of politics.He wasn't a warrior or a soldier being a Jefferson meant he was strong, and had some pretty effective slinging skills. His last words were not filled with the rage would would expect at the man who killed him. They were just inquisitive on who I was. Needless to say i didn't answer that.
&#x200B;
Next of course was my mother. This was not something I looked forward to, what son would want to be known for killing their own mother, but then again I was not a son to this woman. I was a stranger, cast out at birth and abandoned by those who should've nurtured me.
&#x200B;
This justification didn't make it any easier, but I didn't want to make her suffer. She asked me long before any fight who I was. It's almost like she wanted it to happen. A quick twist and it would've been over for her.
Then something unexpected happen.
I was fast, I've always been fast, but she, this woman who abandoned me as a child was faster.
&#x200B;
It's a funny thing, fearing death, I've feared those who could break my bones like sticks, or burn me to a cinder, but once I learned how to use my particular talents I hadn't feared those in a long time. This was something new to fear. and it not only feared me, but it terrified me.
&#x200B;
"You are faster, why not just finish me?" I asked while backing off, realizing that even though she was faster she was only defending herself, never trying to hurt me.
Her response wasn't what I was expecting.
&#x200B;
"Because I am your MOTHER and mother loves their children, even when their husband's discard them. If it takes a fight just to speak with you, then so be it, after so many years of fruitless searching, a little exercise to talk isn't a inconvenience" She told me.
Coming to a stop after moving so fast is always a strange feeling, like coming off a high, or getting on one. She came to a stop just as quickly, and we started to talk instead. I asked her how she was so fast, and her answer caught me off guard.
"Genetics are everything, it wasn't my blubbering oaf of a husband that you got your speed from"
&#x200B;
\---------------------------------
&#x200B;
And done...what'cha all think? this is like my fourth time writing one of this out, i'd like feedback.. | 2020-02-28T06:13:43 | 2020-02-28T05:38:11 | 29 | 13 |
[WP] Everyone's inner demon manifests itself behind their person and is visible to everyone. Some are scary, alien, and weird. Yours is hard to explain. | *Unbelievable, she's talking to my demon. Again.*
"What's the bet she's mistaken it for you again?" Andre leans in and says to me teasingly. He knows how much it bugs me when this happens.
Across the room in the cramped kitchen, Elsie is looking at my demon intensely, the way people do when they're picking someone's brain. My demon, Jack, steps back awkwardly as Elsie's demon Khazzzishla (it's easier to pronounce if you have a tubular mouth like she does) pushes her way to the fridge and unceremoniously downs an entire gallon of milk as one would in a drinking contest. Soon after a cloud of white gas escapes Kha's five worm shaped tentacles on her globular head. Jack holds his breath politely.
In the distance, Elsie gregariously extends her hand to introduce herself. Obviously Elsie's gesture would be perfectly ordinary in any social situation, even when demons are involved. Unfortunately this was now the fourth such time Elsie had introduced herself to me, now with the added sting of her mistaking my demon for me. Everyone else's demon was instantly recognisable and unforgettably unique. Not me though. I'm the most generic looking person you could imagine, and I've been cursed with a demon to match it. If I were in a video game, I'd be the default avatar before you start customising. And as if that weren't bad enough, my demon is an exact copy of me.
"Yep," I reply exasperated.
Andre and his badass dragon-esque demon erupt into laughter. *What I would give to have a demon like his...* | "Can we please just continue with the interview, I know it is a little strange but can we please be professional about this? I understand your business is doing a lot of work for poor children, I have been spending a lot of time helping out with certain charities, if you just had a look at my resume, I'm sure you would find our morals are quite similar." I tried to direct his attention towards my resume, yet his eyes didn't leave the creature stood behind me, even his inner demon seemed a little confused at the sight, the red-skinned demon of his inner soul screwing his face up in disgust. "Sir... please It's just my inner demon can we please go past it?"
"It's just so... disgusting, is it an old man covered in baby oil? whys he covered in baby oil? I just don't get it... and that chesthair, why is it red? he has a grey beard... why is the chesthair red... Is that natural?" He looked to his inner demon, the monster seeming quite confused about the situation before it looked back to the man shaking its head. "Look, Phil, you seem like a good guy, but this is just a little too weird for us, I don't think you are a good fit for our business. As you said, we help poor children and well.... I don't think that old man is going to fit in without business practices, I do wish you well though." He offered me a hand to shake, of course, I ignored it.
"This is unlawful! You can't judge a person by their inner demons! I will take you to court, good sir." I tried to stand tough but it was hard as my monster began tugging at his overalls, skipping around the room gleefully, as if he was unaware at the tense situation occurring, after a few moments however he stopped, huffing for air. "I... I'll just take my leave.... sorry." I muttered, slipping out of the room, wondering how I would ever pay the bills with this thing following me.
{If you enjoyed my story, Feel free to check out r/pmmeyabootysstories where ill be posting some more of my stuff for people to read} | 2020-04-21T03:18:39 | 2020-04-21T03:15:39 | 55 | 23 |
[WP] One of the most unexpected duties of being a priest in a fantasy setting is that if your god is going through an emotional break down, consoling them and helping them get through their troubles is YOUR job. | The time had gotten away from Arden. He fell into a rhythm of life that he was happy with. Giving blessings to the warriors that came through, offering support to those that had fallen on hard times.
His training had included this, but he hadn’t seen any entity since the first year of training. He was told that the god doesn’t always come here, but when he did, it was bad. For the god.
The pale man stood in the garden, cradling one tiny, barely open blossom in one hand, a soft sigh escaping him. The first blossom of the spring. Maybe that’s how the god chose where to go. To the first blossom of the spring.
Arden walked over to his god, bowing his head for a moment. “I know it hurts, my lord. I have some pomegranate mead available inside, if you’d like a drink while you talk.”
Hades gave another soft sigh, hand dropping away. “That would be nice,” he murmured, following after his priest with a heartbroken expression. Spring came early this year.
(Inspired by a DND session where a character summoned their patron god Hades mid fall) | Raz was sick and tired of babysitting a god.
The books on his desk slammed against the wall.
“I heard that!” a childlike voice whined in his head.
“Would you stop destroying my belongings and just tell me what’s wrong?” Raz thought.
“I told you already. Gwyndolin’s statue shouldn’t be bigger than mine! I have more followers!”
It was true. Nazmir, the annoying voice in his head, was actually the god of Childhood, and so had hundreds of thousands of devout followers worshipping him daily, parents offering sacrifices to protect their children. Gwyndolin, on the other hand, was the god of elephants, and was decidedly less famous. But Raz knew as high priest that all gods had their place in the balance of life.
“Nazmir, we’ve been over this. The size of the statue isn’t a reflection on the god. Your statue is a child to represent you, just as Gwyndolin’s is an elephant to represent her. I thought we agreed that we would let you have an extra day of worship this year instead?” Raz pleaded.
“I don’t care! I’m more important! You’re the head priest, make mine bigger or everyone will be sorry!” Nazmir threatened.
Raz sighed heavily. He had taken this job to help the people become closer to the gods. Now he wondered just how close they should really get. Like they say, never meet your heroes.
“Stop daydreaming and go make me a bigger statue!” the child god ordered.
Raz began trudging down to the stonemason’s guild. He couldn’t wait until the next high priest election.
He felt a light slap on his cheek, as if from a child’s hand. | 2020-10-30T11:18:13 | 2020-10-30T11:08:19 | 30 | 13 |
[WP] You’re cursed by the demon tortoise, Shelloko. He moves as slow as molasses, but vows to one day bite you. According to legend, his bite will kill anyone instantly. You live an ordinary life, moving from place to place and never knowing how close this demonic turtle is to reaching you. | They called him merciful. I did not know why. I was cursed upon my ascension to the throne. Cursed to fear, of all things, the demon turtle god of the peasantry. They worshipped him, Shelloko the Merciful. And when I rose at last, triumphant among my brothers, the first Queen of the great court, word reached me: the turtle god had sworn to bring my death into his jaws.
But who fears a turtle? I turned him aside a thousand times. My maidens sat a watch to protect me. They found him in the garden. Once in my bathing pool. Each time they lifted him without fear, the shining golden god who is no larger than an infant. He does not bite who he has not cursed. He only ever bit one, a maiden who was out of my favor. Some disgraceful business with a guard. I paid it no mind, save that it confirmed to me how foolish the poor are, to worship so powerless and pitiful a deity. A turtle made of gold. She knew he was her end. Those Shelloko curses always do.
I fought hard and ruled well. A Queen to be remembered. The Good Queen, they called me. I tried hard to be fair. To make sure that all had enough to eat. That no one was harmed. I fought those who would have preyed on my people...but I did not watch my own sons. It was my second born that killed his brother, who imprisoned me in my own tower. The Good Queen, he laughed. The weak Queen. Under him shall the rod of iron spread across the land. Under him will my people know work, and fear. I will leave, my son said, only when I am dead. And every augarie and soothsayer, save those of the turtle God, say I shall live long indeed.
They bricked up my door. Food comes by tray. I am permitted to throw my waste from the window. My son delights in my suffering. In him are my sins laid bare. I have wept. I have screamed. I am now emptied of all things.
And tonight he found me. Shelloko. The golden god. Death that that comes with slow, relentless steps. How he came to be in my chamber I do not know, but for the first time I heard his whispers.
Indeed, his own augar did see my life, spun long and miserable by the fates. Just as he saw my maiden, the one he bit and killed, with a long life tied to the guard who abused her. The business I paid no attention to was as private a hell for her as this chamber is for me. Her own betrothed treated her as even the worst curr would not beat his dog. He notices each of us whom the fates would trap, and comes to help us evade them.
It is a curse, you see, so that in our darkest hour our enemies will not sheild us against it. He allows our mockery so that we discount his determination, the magnitude of his relentless promise. But Shelloko does not take from those he notices. He does not stalk. He simply follows. So that at last, When there is no escape, when the fates have spun us darkness and long years in bitter measure, he comes with his offer. Mercy, and silent rest.
I have listened to the god. He does not let me escape without first confronting the depth of my life. I see the footsteps that lead me here. And if there is one pleasure I am allowed, it is this: I know now the course of my son's life. I shall be paid in full for this indignity. The suffering he shall inflict upon my people shall be vast; it is a part of my fate and sin that I cannot sheild them from his transgression. Shelloko shall be busy in the years to come. But all the gods agree. From him shall come payment in full. He shall have no soft escape. His life shall become his pyre. The gods have their revenge, and no hand shall save my son. Not even his own.
This shall be my testament. Death has come for me, and I shall greet him as a friend, here at journey's end.
They are right. It is mercy. | I'd sold my soul for a silly reason, really.
A girl. Penelope was her name.
I know, I know, laugh it up. But the way her hair danced around in the breeze, the smokey blue of her eyes, slender sculpted legs that never quite revealed enough. I'd memorized every curve of her face, every bat of her eyes. I would think about her at night. I thought about her for too many nights. Certainly she never would have given me the chance to win her heart.
My name is Ivan. And I am very very ugly.
I was approaching twenty years of age and I was still a virgin. My friends had all humped dozens of times, and yet I... Ivan the Beak, they called me... I had never had such luck with the women. Cursed with a sloping brow and a nose too large for my face, which bent at the end like an old sea hag's. And so I did it. I made the deal. In the dead of night I lit the candles and recited the incantation and lo! Ikadia, Goddess of Nature appeared before me. She appeared to float as a dandelion does on the breeze within a great fog that accompanied her. Her black silky hair moved around on the wind's breath as though she were underwater. Here piercing eyes bore down upon me. I wasted no time.
"Ikadia, please!" I begged of her. "Reshape me! Make me a new man! Make me as attractive as a man can be! I beseech thee!"
"I will, Ivan." She spoke melodiously, her words like a fine wine to my ears. "But I will take your soul for my own collection, and you will bear the curse of Shelloko, the Great Tortoise."
As she spoke the name the tortoise materialized beneath her feet as though he'd been shrouded by a veil. His eyes glowed an ominous color akin to the night sky against the pale moons. I agreed. And the deal was done. I was made gorgeous the likes of which no man had been. I took Penelope as my bride and tasted of her fruit, explored every nook of her supple body, and made her mine the way I had always dreamed. And for a time, my life was incredible. But I knew what the curse of Shelloko had entailed. I'd read of the curse in my early studies. It was almost a year or so before I first saw the turtle. Its eyes glowed the same as Shelloko's- I knew it the moment I saw it.
But I was clever; oh so very clever. I had been waiting for this moment. I had prepared a trap many months ago for this very day. It moved slowly but steadily, and I carefully maneuvered the tortoise into place. However when the trap was to spring, it did not. I realized that day that the creature was restricted by no tangible object. No wall could impede its trajectory. It simply slipped through like a breeze through a barn. After that horrifying revelation, I took my wife and moved far away, but like clockwork it caught up within only a five months.
We picked up and moved again. And again. And again. Did it never rest? Did it not require nourishment? Within only a few years of my marriage, Penelope tired of my madness. She took our child and made for the hills. I couldn't blame her. It wasn't she the demon was after.
Nay, it was I. Ivan the Beak.
For as beautiful as I was and as adored as I was, I would always be the same fool who threw away his soul for the flesh of another. And after years of running I had one final idea.
It was a cold night. The waters shifted gently beneath my rowboat. I had paddled far out to sea. I was more comfortable with death now that I'd gone proper insane. I literally watched the form of the tortoise climb over the side of the boat and tumble to the floor. It righted itself and marched steadily towards me.
"Come. I am finished running. I do not fear the unknown, tortoise. Let the masses know that though Ivan the Beak dies tonight... He *lived* first."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I get a 15 minute break at work aside from my usual lunch break. I pick a prompt, spend a couple of minutes storyboarding, and then do as much as I can within the confines of my break.
If you enjoyed this, consider following me at [r/A15MinuteMythos](https://old.reddit.com/r/A15MinuteMythos) | 2020-11-10T21:24:02 | 2020-11-10T19:16:50 | 644 | 80 |
[WP] The villagers call you their guardian spirit that has protected them since the time of ashes, in truth you are a monstrosity of war that protects the village in an attempt to clear your conscience. | The creature was created to kill.
It hadn't always been, it thinks. Its first job, its birthright, had been to protect. It knows this like its lungs know to breathe and its heart knows to beat. It had sisters and brothers and a mother, soft and warm.
But then the men in white coats had taken it. They stabbed things into its brain, needles into its flesh, took its legs and teeth and eyes and replaced them until the creature was more metal and oil than flesh and bone.
Then they starved it.
After days on end they put a man in shackles into its cage. Even though the creature was frightened--men had only ever hurt it--it knew it wasn't supposed to hurt them back. It knew it was supposed to protect them.
The man in shackles didn't know. It stank of urine and gibbered whenever the creature came near.
The creature tried so hard to be good, but the men in white coats prodded it closer and closer with sticks that crackled and burned what was left of its skin.
And it was *so hungry*...
They put another man in its cage when the first one was only bones. And then another, and another, and sometimes they fought back but the creature always won. More and more of its body was eaten up by metal, until even the hunger was only a memory. Only the pain was left.
And then they took it out of its cage and set it loose on battlefields. The creature wasn't hungry, but it knew what it had to do. It knew that they would hurt it if it didn't. So it killed and killed, and even though it didn't have to eat the bodies it sometimes tried anyway, until one day it was the only moving thing left on the battlefield.
(It did not know if it was still a *living* thing.)
It waited for orders, waited to be hurt, but nothing came. So it walked, and walked, and walked, until things stopped smelling like blood and piss and gunpowder, and started smelling... almost familiar. Nostalgic, like when it was a whelp and all was soft and dark and everything tasted like warm milk.
The ground was green, and the sky was blue, and it found white fluffy things that bleated and looked fun to chase. Its feet itched to corral them to... somewhere.
"Hello!" someone cooed. The creature went very, very still.
There was a... *thing* in the field. It was short, and pudgy, and had curly fur on its head and big brown eyes. It barely comes up to the creature's chest.
The creature did not know that men had young. If it was still flesh, still *weak,* it would snarl and cringe away. But it does not.
Should it kill the human spawn? Should it crush it in its metal teeth, slice it open with its metal claws--
A little hand reaches up to pet its nose (it has to stand on tip-toe to do it), and it says, "Good doggie."
Oh. That's right.
*This time,* the creature thinks, as it rolls onto its barbed back for belly rubs that it won't be able to feel, *I will protect.* | I awaken, as I often do, in fire and in blood. Ash wafts through the air from burning thatched roofs, smoke clogs my scents with its acrid burn, and the air is filled with screams and yells. The worst of humanity, sprawled across all of the senses.
The heavy armour that hasn't left my form since my death creaks slightly as I test its limits. Despite the years, it manages to still be manoeuvrable and sturdy, and I know without testing it that my longsword will be sharp and lethal. Turning into the flames, my feet crunch heavily against the cobblestones.
A gang of brigands emerge from a smoking alleyway, dragging a bruised and unconscious woman behind them. The first doesn't have time to blink before my blade is through his ribs.
*And then I'm back, in the brigand's shoes. Looking at a city burning on the horizon, smoke curling into the air, my banners unfurling above it. The screams of womenfolk did not stir me into action- no, they were simply the dues of soldiers after a long siege.*
One of the brigands yelled incoherently, and brought up a black powder weapon. The thundering blast deafened me, but in truth, there is nothing behind the armour for the gun to slay- the man died with astonishment on his face. Another brigand thinks to raise a mace against me, only to have it roughly backhanded back into his face, sending him to the ground, his face now nothing but meat.
The last of the brigands threw his spear down and prostrated himself before me.
*Again, I'm back, back before captives we took prior to the siege. Broken, battered men who had surrendered. I ordered them disembowelled and impaled, left for the crows to pick at and the defenders to horror at.*
I only gestured vaguely, leaving the boy to sprint away, with only the faint stench of urine and fear to mark his passing. Stepping over the woman, I moved through the rest of the village at a slow, even pace. The bloody work is mechanical and easy to one such as I, the deaths blurring into one another into a cascade of blood and death cries.
By the time the sun has risen, I have 'protected' the town. Its attackers are dead or running- thanks either to my clemency or their realisation at the situation.
*I'm back, the general who held the city against me standing straight and proud even in defeat. He said meaningless prattle, likely to try to make me renounce my cause. I split him from navel to neck and laughed.*
The townsfolk do not like me, even with my defence of them. The militia's weapons are pointed towards me, their faces a mask of distrust and anger. Turning away from them, I move to the edges of the town.
**This is your fault, you know.** My conscious nags at me. **You removed the authority here. You tore down the institutions that protected these people. Your defence of them is a poor excuse for what they had before your arrival.**
It's not one voice that echoes in my helm, but a hundred thousand- a maddening cacophony of all the soldiers that served under or were slain by me. I want to screw my eyes shut, but I know I cannot. So, instead, I allow myself to sit down, my bloodstained sword impaled in the ground, and reply to my consciousness what I always reply.
*"Were I better man, I could earn respite. But I cannot, and so I must make their wakenings as bearable as my slumber.* Then, I allow the strange sleep that takes me whenever my work is done to wash over me. | 2021-04-18T18:53:44 | 2021-04-18T18:01:52 | 317 | 177 |
[WP] You look into the mirror but you see no one. You panic but then you see yourself still sitting down, reading. Your reflection then notices you. "Ah dammit!" She hastily goes to match you but she knows it's futile. "Uhm. Just forget about that okay?" she asks. | "Thats....kinda hard to do don't you think"? "No, not really". She replied in a frantic attempt to convince me. "Just think of it as....uhhh-really bad acid trip! Yeah"! Continuing her distressing attempt to just drop the now haunting subject.
"But, i don't do acid". I replied calmly. "In fact, i don't even do drugs; Or alcohol". "Lucky you". She sigh. "I sure could use a drink right now". "By the way, aside from the initial shock; you are taking this pretty well". She stated having notice my relaxing attitude.
"Well, when you talk to yourself constantly; you kinda just....accept it". I replied as i turn away, realizing how much of a pitiable loner i really am. "Well, let me reassure you. Your not crazy". she stated as an attempt to get my spirits up. "I honestly accepted that theory". I retorted.
"Let me put it to you like this". She counter. "At least you won't be lonely anymore. And i know you must have a lot of questions; So why don't we just sit and chat?" "Sure, we can do that". I responded. We both took a seat and began to chat. This seems to be the start of very marvelous friendship. | “What the hell?!?” You shout, but The Mirror now seems to be doing mirrorly things again. “I know what I saw. You know garbage day is today? It’s not too hard to through out a mirror..” you venture looking into your own reflection. It slowly morphs into a sharper version of you, glaring. It crosses its arms. “What do you want?” Asks The Mirror. “An explanation! Or I’m telling someone and you won’t be a mirror anymore.”
“Yes but I’ve seen you naked.” She says. Your face flushes and you feel a strong temptation to punch The Mirror. “Fine.” You mutter. “Now can you get me out of this thing so I can finish destroying your universe?” She asks impatiently, like it’s a given that you will let her destroy the universe. “No thanks.” Your reflection frowns. “Damnit. Do you really want me to tell Micheal you’ve been cheating on him with Jane?” Your face heats again. “You wouldn’t dare..”
“Yes I would now let. Me. The fuck. Out.” The Mirror responds. “I can tell your friends you still sleep with stuffed animals. Or that you didn’t actually go to the beach in California, you stayed home. Or that you accidentally let your cat out, not that it ran out while you got broken into!” You punch The Mirror. “AGH!” She screams.
A wisp floats from it followed by laughter and you wake up. Of course that never happened, it was just a dream. When your phone starts buzzing, one call from Micheal, one from Jane, five texts from each friend about cheating, stuffed animals, break-ins, and California you’re not so sure about the above statement. You now know what she meant by your universe. She meant Your Universe. Or for lack of better term, your social life. | 2021-06-02T06:55:39 | 2021-06-02T06:45:59 | 104 | 61 |
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