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[WP] A new drug is released that allows humans to experience a full night's sleep in around forty-five minutes, and it can be used indefinitely. The entire pattern of human culture shifts overnight. It's been several years, and the unintended consequences are becoming evident. | Hey man, what are you really into?
Well, I enjoy botany and computer science and hiking and philosophy and knitting and meditation and astronomy and and and...
But I never get to do any of those things.
No. Drug testing was used in the past to exclude potential employees who occasionally smoked weed or had a problem with painkillers or whatever their hard lives had led them to discover to deal with the crippling pain of modern life. Now things are inverted. If you don’t test positive for Micro-Sleep(tm) no one will hire you.
Every corporate entity requires 20 hour work days from its employees. There are still weekends, but they hardly make up for the grind of a 100 hour work week. The rest of the day is reserved for commuting, interaction with offspring, and “sleep”.
The sleep that remains is sudden and profound. An industry has arisen from the need to shield sleeping humans from any sort of hazard that they may encounter in that 45 minutes of dream-saturated oblivion, as people who are in this sort of sleep are completely incapable of waking for *anything*. Fire alarms are impotent in the face of this sort of sleep. Occasionally someone dies while in this state, but it’s always explained away. “He had a heart arrhythmia”. “She had a latent AVM”. “It’s perfectly safe!” “People have always died in their sleep!”
My daughter Pearl was only 4 when this drug thundered its way onto the global stage. I figured that it wouldn’t affect a child, particularly such a small one, as Micro-Sleep(tm) was initially only marketed to people 18 and over. Two years passed before some admin somewhere figured that children could absorb so much information if they never needed to sleep.
Here she is. Ten years old and knows more than I could possibly imagine. Botany. Philosophy. Knitting/crochet. She is terrifying but also hollow. She has infinite focus and determination. She has the depth of outer space in her deep green eyes, and during our regularly scheduled 15 minute interactions I am forced to wonder what she would be if not for this drug.
“Hey mom.”
“What?”
“What was life like before the, thing?”
“We didn’t exist in the usual way for a third to one half of our lives and the COMPANY was somewhat less profitable.”
“Oh. Did you know the name of all of Jupiter’s moons?”
“No.”
She’s so bloody smug. | No Zs the drug was called.
It was supposed to change humanity for the better, it would improve the lives of everyone now that we could work for most of the day.
Then the simulation began crashing.
Nobody really noticed it at first, just tiny inconsistencies, ripples in water when no stones were thrown or trees rustling when there was no wind.
The first people to notice were the Australians, they realized it started happening when their boomerangs stopped coming back. Once the boomerangs no longer worked it prompted a nation wide search for the answer, Australia determined that humanity was living in a simulation.
According to the ASS (Australian Science Society), the simulation in which we were currently living in could only support and render in 5 billion people being awake at one time. With the new drug close to 8 billion people were awake at any given time, therefore causing the simulation to break down and fail.
They predicted that without everyone abandoning the drug he simulation would crash.
So that’s what we did, No Zs stopped being produced and it stabilized. Too bad the damage was already done. Thanks to everyone knowing they were in a simulation this prompted mass suicides. Those who continued living didn’t think about it. They just kept living even though they know theres not much of a point.
| |
[WP] A new drug is released that allows humans to experience a full night's sleep in around forty-five minutes, and it can be used indefinitely. The entire pattern of human culture shifts overnight. It's been several years, and the unintended consequences are becoming evident. | When the effects became apparent, the world was separated into three sections.
 
The first section were those who had never taken the sleep drug (or Triple-Z, as it had come to be known). This section was called "humans" because the other factions were so far from it. But these were the people who made the obvious smart decision before the un-obvious—but expected—consequences manifested. And although these people did not directly experience effects from Triple-Z, they almost certainly experienced the indirect consequences: a mother, brother, or daughter slowly slipping away. Unquestionably. Indescribably. And Untreatably.
 
The second section was reserved for the "marrers" as they had come to be known...The drug seemed, right, at first. Productivity increased. Happiness spiked. Global well-being seemed to brighten to a level never before seen. This lasted a few years. Until the drug transformed the course of human history. Users—even if they had taken only one pill—began to change. There were two types of transformation. The first, was petrifying. 50% of users began to experience nightmares during the day. Their most horrendous fears were fraught to their waking reality. Horrors unknown tortured people 24/7. There was an irony to this effect: users couldn't sleep, but they also couldn't die from lack of sleep. Part of their brain was exercising some fragile sleep necessity. Couple these realities, and marrers became the most terrifying creatures imaginable: People cowering in corners from an invisible threat; people running down the street from a nonexistent terror; people stabbing at the air, warding off an intangible fear. Self-mutialtion, murder, cannibalism, and suicide became expected side-effects for marrers.
 
But there was hope. The rest of Triple-Z users transformed into something quite incredible. They became known as "othersiders". They experienced pleasant dreams in their daily realities. But, contradictory to expectation, othersiders were not debilitated. Opposite, in fact. Othersiders were able to experience the most beautiful hallucinations. They could live their most pleasurable ecstasies. And—most incredibly—they could cull upon a creativity that sober consciousness couldn't touch. They could craft art to a degree unseen, they could make music to a level unheard, and they could invent on a plane far beyond normal capacity. Their intelligence was off the charts. They became a self-contained utopian race.
 
And they hold the cure to Triple-Z's effects, but they won't give it to us. Human's efforts at war have been met with supreme technologies. Human infiltrators never—ever—returned. And discourse has always been met with one answer:
 
"You need no cure for this."
| No Zs the drug was called.
It was supposed to change humanity for the better, it would improve the lives of everyone now that we could work for most of the day.
Then the simulation began crashing.
Nobody really noticed it at first, just tiny inconsistencies, ripples in water when no stones were thrown or trees rustling when there was no wind.
The first people to notice were the Australians, they realized it started happening when their boomerangs stopped coming back. Once the boomerangs no longer worked it prompted a nation wide search for the answer, Australia determined that humanity was living in a simulation.
According to the ASS (Australian Science Society), the simulation in which we were currently living in could only support and render in 5 billion people being awake at one time. With the new drug close to 8 billion people were awake at any given time, therefore causing the simulation to break down and fail.
They predicted that without everyone abandoning the drug he simulation would crash.
So that’s what we did, No Zs stopped being produced and it stabilized. Too bad the damage was already done. Thanks to everyone knowing they were in a simulation this prompted mass suicides. Those who continued living didn’t think about it. They just kept living even though they know theres not much of a point.
| |
[WP] A new drug is released that allows humans to experience a full night's sleep in around forty-five minutes, and it can be used indefinitely. The entire pattern of human culture shifts overnight. It's been several years, and the unintended consequences are becoming evident. | From Someone’s Journal:
Okay, I don’t have a lot of time to write this (too much school work), but I need to get it out. It’ll be a bit of a mess, so I apologize to anyone reading.
To be honest, I don't think it was anyone’s fault. As much as I wanted someone to blame - well, we all did - the “system” never meant to hurt us. The problems of past generations, their constant *need* for productivity, to do *something* - it passed on, to the point where… Actually, I was going to say the “important things in life were forgotten”, but that wasn’t what caused it at all. No, they were *too* focused on the important things, the “greater good” and all that. The point is, society only became more competitive over the years, I think, and… Well, ha, I’m thirteen. My whole life, this special “drug” of sorts was advertised as the being the best in the world. It was an instant success, billboards were plastered everywhere. I always thought it was somewhat ironic - how they would bombard us with how “excellent, amazing, wonderful” this stupid drug was alongside D.A.R.E; how it was just common knowledge that it was *perfect*. Sorry, I’m really bitter about this whole stupid, awful, stinking monstrous problem I’m dealing with… Argh, I’ll get to it in a moment. I’m a bit woozy. Stupid brain fog - this is a mess to write out.
Here’s the worst part. They could have gotten rid of it! Just months after this awful drug came out, there were a few “side effects”. Oh, sure, they mentioned them on the bottle, but they conveniently failed to describe the full horrific extent of dealing with them. Mental illnesses are so hard to diagnose, so easy to write off as nonexistent. It was just *feelings* that people were experiencing - nothing more, right?
The first time I took it, I was actually pretty enthusiastic. I can’t stress that enough - I was looking forward to get stuff done. I’d never be tired again! HAH! No more painful late nights, cramming on homework - about ninety percent of my problems, just *gone*. Like everyone else at school, this was just heaven. Perfect, wonderful, amazing heaven. Oh…
That first night, the dreams were so painfully vivid. Virtual reality was cool, of course, but this was actual reality. It was as if… Well, my brain seemed like it was trying to compensate, I guess, and compacted about eight hours into a short sixty-minute play. It was like switching from animated movies to action-packed “adult” ones.
Balance has always been an important concept, right? Balance your life - don’t dwell on the same activity for too long, take care of yourself, all that good stuff. Nopenopenope. Not anymore. When I woke up, I was panting. It wasn’t even a nightmare, just the typical weird stuff I always dream about… But I was *exhausted*, like I’d just run a marathon or something.
But that was normal. I didn’t realize how bad it would be, but it was normal for your first time trying it. That day at school, between the mountains of work everyone was focused on, well… I couldn’t.
Ever since then - and this is just the tip of the iceberg - ever since, my ability to focus hasn’t been the same. I mean, I still can. It’s not like that, but… Well, it’s just all messed up. Dang it, why…
Argh. I do think I might have figured out what’s going on. It’s my emotions that were amped up. But… Not in the normal way, that you actually do get from being tired. I still feel things normally - I still do - but… Well, they just seem to cut deeper. Everything I go through leaves a bigger impact on me.
I tried to talk to people. Apparently, I was one of those weird folks who experience the uncommon symptoms. I don’t know if I mentioned this before, but those people were also more likely to be mentally ill in certain ways, according to the studies they performed. *Great*, now I was paranoid about being labeled. But, was the fact that I felt paranoid the *cause* of them?
Please help, please help, help, I’m having another panic attack. Yep, I know, I suppose there’s the mental illness I’d been worried about. I can’t do this anymore.
Sorry, okay, I need to calm down. I haven’t even started writing about the actual problem. Here’s the thing - I said it before, but… Well, argh.
I have a theory. I haven’t been able to discuss it much with anyone, but… Maybe the “subconscious”, or the part of the brain that becomes active when you’re asleep, is actually it’s own… Part? I don’t know what I’m saying. The point is, maybe… Actually, I’ll just start from the beginning. I’m going in circles.
Weeks passed, in which I took the drug every day. Like everyone did. I couldn’t figure out why they all seemed… *Fine*, while I was dying inside. Until recently, actually… Nevermind.
But, well, there were just these moments. It shoved my anxiety (which had hardly been a problem beforehand) up to the breaking point. That was supposed to be the complete extent of, and the only, side effect, though. Nothing more.
Nope, then I had to go and shatter. It started with the usual symptoms - heart palpitations were particularly frightening at first, but then sleep paralysis showed up and blew that fear out of the water. Oh, I hated it so much, so much. Still, that was all medically *possible* - I should have been grateful.
The real issue was that horrible *extra* feeling. I’m a little scared to talk about this, even if this is just a stupid journal… I haven’t told anyone.
It was a darkness. One night, there was a dream that hurt - an enchantress appeared, almost kind, and *gentle*, in a way, but I knew that wasn’t the case. Beautiful… As she trapped me down, locked me inside the cage, but then the chemical would bring me back up to the surface, gasping for breath.
Then I’d forget all about it, and it would restart the next night.
It wasn’t until recently that the feeling began to affect me. I can’t even describe it, that feeling. It just keeps getting worse. NO, it makes no difference if it’s all in my head, because the
problems it’s causing me are real, and I can’t deal with this. I’ve spent so many nights crying, so many afternoons feeling something in my chest being clawed at, tugged away.
It’s trying to control me, I can feel it.
Every day, I fight this battle. It’s a parasite, I know it is. I try, try so hard - I try to think about flying. Think about running, think about freedom.
Only once was I able to stop the feeling. It was so painful. I spent an hour on the floor, just trying to resist the creepy, horrible urge. Eventually, I was able to stand up and leave. But if I’d stayed down, I wouldn’t have been able to keep fighting for much longer. It never gave up. I couldn’t believe how emotionally drained I was afterwards. It was like the opposite of crying, like when you bundle something up for months, except this happened in a matter of minutes. But I was also proud of myself, as if I’d won some spectacular battle. And for a while, the feeling seemed manageable.
Until I forgot to keep my guard up, and it struck again.
Actually… You know what? I think I just figured out something. Everyone isn’t okay. They already gave in, maybe even on their first day. That’s why there’s no more feeling in the world… That’s it, isn’t it?
Oh, no. That’s it. I just figured this out. The monster… It’s infected everyone. They’re all gone.
But… it would be easier, wouldn’t it? I think I’ll just give up now. Maybe…
No, no, I can’t. No…
There I go. Drifting off, oblivion so close I can feel it - I *need* it… Please.
Okay, goodbye, I’ll finish this later. Too tired. But I’m not sleepy at all. Just a little confused, I guess.
3:32 a.m. | It was three years after Sleep-X came out. Life is different, life is better. Family’s spend more time together, more work, and improve over all life. But things have started happening. I my self have not taken Sleep-X because I prefer the
“old fashioned “ it makes me feel more... comfortable. When the thing started happening people never linked it to Sleep-X. People thought it was just a temporary thing. People have started to realize though people have started to see what’s really going on. Some people have a stronger immunity and some people don’t even take Sleep-X like me. The world is breaking down. SHTF has finally happened. I have barracked myself in my room. I have earmuffs. But that’s not enough to muffle the screaming. I hear them banging on my apartment door now. If they get in I will die. I suppose I should tell you what is going on. About a month ago people started disappearing then reappearing but when they came back things tatted getting violent. People started attacking each other and the bodies would have bight sized chunks taken out of them. My theory is that the drug made you produce a chemical that made you angry and that would cause cannibalism. I have to go now. They are almost in and I’m going to take my first Sleep-X pill goodnight and sleep tight. | |
[WP] A new drug is released that allows humans to experience a full night's sleep in around forty-five minutes, and it can be used indefinitely. The entire pattern of human culture shifts overnight. It's been several years, and the unintended consequences are becoming evident. | Hey man, what are you really into?
Well, I enjoy botany and computer science and hiking and philosophy and knitting and meditation and astronomy and and and...
But I never get to do any of those things.
No. Drug testing was used in the past to exclude potential employees who occasionally smoked weed or had a problem with painkillers or whatever their hard lives had led them to discover to deal with the crippling pain of modern life. Now things are inverted. If you don’t test positive for Micro-Sleep(tm) no one will hire you.
Every corporate entity requires 20 hour work days from its employees. There are still weekends, but they hardly make up for the grind of a 100 hour work week. The rest of the day is reserved for commuting, interaction with offspring, and “sleep”.
The sleep that remains is sudden and profound. An industry has arisen from the need to shield sleeping humans from any sort of hazard that they may encounter in that 45 minutes of dream-saturated oblivion, as people who are in this sort of sleep are completely incapable of waking for *anything*. Fire alarms are impotent in the face of this sort of sleep. Occasionally someone dies while in this state, but it’s always explained away. “He had a heart arrhythmia”. “She had a latent AVM”. “It’s perfectly safe!” “People have always died in their sleep!”
My daughter Pearl was only 4 when this drug thundered its way onto the global stage. I figured that it wouldn’t affect a child, particularly such a small one, as Micro-Sleep(tm) was initially only marketed to people 18 and over. Two years passed before some admin somewhere figured that children could absorb so much information if they never needed to sleep.
Here she is. Ten years old and knows more than I could possibly imagine. Botany. Philosophy. Knitting/crochet. She is terrifying but also hollow. She has infinite focus and determination. She has the depth of outer space in her deep green eyes, and during our regularly scheduled 15 minute interactions I am forced to wonder what she would be if not for this drug.
“Hey mom.”
“What?”
“What was life like before the, thing?”
“We didn’t exist in the usual way for a third to one half of our lives and the COMPANY was somewhat less profitable.”
“Oh. Did you know the name of all of Jupiter’s moons?”
“No.”
She’s so bloody smug. | It was three years after Sleep-X came out. Life is different, life is better. Family’s spend more time together, more work, and improve over all life. But things have started happening. I my self have not taken Sleep-X because I prefer the
“old fashioned “ it makes me feel more... comfortable. When the thing started happening people never linked it to Sleep-X. People thought it was just a temporary thing. People have started to realize though people have started to see what’s really going on. Some people have a stronger immunity and some people don’t even take Sleep-X like me. The world is breaking down. SHTF has finally happened. I have barracked myself in my room. I have earmuffs. But that’s not enough to muffle the screaming. I hear them banging on my apartment door now. If they get in I will die. I suppose I should tell you what is going on. About a month ago people started disappearing then reappearing but when they came back things tatted getting violent. People started attacking each other and the bodies would have bight sized chunks taken out of them. My theory is that the drug made you produce a chemical that made you angry and that would cause cannibalism. I have to go now. They are almost in and I’m going to take my first Sleep-X pill goodnight and sleep tight. | |
[WP] A new drug is released that allows humans to experience a full night's sleep in around forty-five minutes, and it can be used indefinitely. The entire pattern of human culture shifts overnight. It's been several years, and the unintended consequences are becoming evident. | When the effects became apparent, the world was separated into three sections.
 
The first section were those who had never taken the sleep drug (or Triple-Z, as it had come to be known). This section was called "humans" because the other factions were so far from it. But these were the people who made the obvious smart decision before the un-obvious—but expected—consequences manifested. And although these people did not directly experience effects from Triple-Z, they almost certainly experienced the indirect consequences: a mother, brother, or daughter slowly slipping away. Unquestionably. Indescribably. And Untreatably.
 
The second section was reserved for the "marrers" as they had come to be known...The drug seemed, right, at first. Productivity increased. Happiness spiked. Global well-being seemed to brighten to a level never before seen. This lasted a few years. Until the drug transformed the course of human history. Users—even if they had taken only one pill—began to change. There were two types of transformation. The first, was petrifying. 50% of users began to experience nightmares during the day. Their most horrendous fears were fraught to their waking reality. Horrors unknown tortured people 24/7. There was an irony to this effect: users couldn't sleep, but they also couldn't die from lack of sleep. Part of their brain was exercising some fragile sleep necessity. Couple these realities, and marrers became the most terrifying creatures imaginable: People cowering in corners from an invisible threat; people running down the street from a nonexistent terror; people stabbing at the air, warding off an intangible fear. Self-mutialtion, murder, cannibalism, and suicide became expected side-effects for marrers.
 
But there was hope. The rest of Triple-Z users transformed into something quite incredible. They became known as "othersiders". They experienced pleasant dreams in their daily realities. But, contradictory to expectation, othersiders were not debilitated. Opposite, in fact. Othersiders were able to experience the most beautiful hallucinations. They could live their most pleasurable ecstasies. And—most incredibly—they could cull upon a creativity that sober consciousness couldn't touch. They could craft art to a degree unseen, they could make music to a level unheard, and they could invent on a plane far beyond normal capacity. Their intelligence was off the charts. They became a self-contained utopian race.
 
And they hold the cure to Triple-Z's effects, but they won't give it to us. Human's efforts at war have been met with supreme technologies. Human infiltrators never—ever—returned. And discourse has always been met with one answer:
 
"You need no cure for this."
| It was three years after Sleep-X came out. Life is different, life is better. Family’s spend more time together, more work, and improve over all life. But things have started happening. I my self have not taken Sleep-X because I prefer the
“old fashioned “ it makes me feel more... comfortable. When the thing started happening people never linked it to Sleep-X. People thought it was just a temporary thing. People have started to realize though people have started to see what’s really going on. Some people have a stronger immunity and some people don’t even take Sleep-X like me. The world is breaking down. SHTF has finally happened. I have barracked myself in my room. I have earmuffs. But that’s not enough to muffle the screaming. I hear them banging on my apartment door now. If they get in I will die. I suppose I should tell you what is going on. About a month ago people started disappearing then reappearing but when they came back things tatted getting violent. People started attacking each other and the bodies would have bight sized chunks taken out of them. My theory is that the drug made you produce a chemical that made you angry and that would cause cannibalism. I have to go now. They are almost in and I’m going to take my first Sleep-X pill goodnight and sleep tight. | |
[WP] A new drug is released that allows humans to experience a full night's sleep in around forty-five minutes, and it can be used indefinitely. The entire pattern of human culture shifts overnight. It's been several years, and the unintended consequences are becoming evident. | Sam changed the Channel.
She was sitting at her home desk. Her apartment was downtown, with a great view she hardly saw. Her former bedroom had been converted into a computer room.
The desktop was the fastest computer she had ever had. She used three monitors, hooked together so that she could drag from screen to screen.
On the central monitor, she had work stuff. Sam was a lawyer, and prior to the invention of 23/7, she would have given anything to not need sleep. Now that it applied to everyone, her workload had only increased. People filed appeals that would have been a waste of time before, because now there was no such thing. Most frivolous appeals she could send responses to without even thinking about it, but it still took hours to deal with them.
On the left monitor, she had a personal project. This one she thought very carefully about, and paused her grunt work every hour or so to add a few sentences.
On the right monitor was the national pastime. Channel, the bastard child of traditional broadcasting and Chatroulette.
Not everyone could live the 140-hour workweek of a lawyer. Grocery stores and shops that hadn’t been 24-hour before stayed on the daytime schedule. Restaurants, clubs, movie theaters, and anywhere people could go to entertain themselves, on the other hand, had almost all switched to the 24-hour model.
It was isolating to sit through the night alone. People did their best to avoid it.
But not everyone had the salary of a lawyer working 140 hours either. For people who didn’t want to be alone, but couldn’t go out, there was Channel.
Sam’s fingers moved, typing on her central screen, but her eyes followed strangers.
The girl up now was a famous webcam model. She was beautiful, with an innocent face that would make an artist scramble for sketch paper. She was dressed in a soft pink negligee and fuzzy slippers, curled up in bed. In her arms was a stuffed rabbit. She had been sleeping for about four hours. Millions watched her.
Less than 1% of the population was allergic to 23/7, and were stuck in a traditional human sleep cycle. There was a proposal to get them added to disability funding that Sam had been following with interest.
Sleeping Beauty had other videos, more traditional webcam fare like stripping and servicing dildos. But for some reason her nightly stream of traditional sleep was the most popular. People didn’t need to sleep anymore, but that didn’t mean no one missed it.
Sam changed the Channel.
A small clock in the corner read 50 hours, and steadily ticked upward. An Asian kid screamed at the camera. His username was CussWordSteve, and he was playing Call of Duty online. The other player had found his stream and used it to easily win the game. CussWordSteve thought this was bullshit, and wanted all his users to know.
He switched from map to map, all user-generated. The gaming community had advanced insanely since everyone had an additional seven hours to modify what they already had. He settled on one with Minecraft graphics, using Mario powerups instead of traditional weapons.
Sam left that one on for a few hours. Steve was doing a marathon run, playing for 72 hours straight. When it was finished he would crash and sleep for three hours straight. Sam used a lot of the little free time she had on gaming, and would try that Minecraft map later.
When the counter hit 53 hours, Sam changed the Channel. This time it was something law-related, an official government broadcast. She pulled up a notepad doc on the far left monitor and started taking notes.
The trial for the inventor of 23/7 was ongoing. Immediately after its patent, it had been flagged as something of interest to the United States government. They had offered to buy out the rights. It wasn’t the kind of offer you could say no to. Instead, the chemist had released the process online, and in a week people were making it in their bathtubs.
His freedom was Sam’s personal project. They knew from other parts of the world what happened when there was uneven distribution of 23/7. If that had happened in a more organized manner in the U.S., it could have been an unprecedented disaster. He should have monuments, not a potential life sentence.
The viewer numbers skyrocketed, hitting over a billion, and the Channel crashed. She wasn’t the only one who wanted him freed.
Sam returned to her central monitor work, and flipped around aimlessly for a while. Nearly everyone had their own broadcast. Sam was streaming her work as she did it. But unless your channel-seeking was set to random, only friends were likely to tune in. Nearly everyone she found was speaking another language, working quietly like her, or had their dick out.
“Please help. Ayudame. Aidez moi.” Sam paused her channel-flipping on a black kid in a green uniform. He continued asking for help in a few other languages before he saw he had a viewer and continued in French-accented English.
“I’m a survivor. I managed to get some pills but my supply is running out. Please, deposit into my account and I will be able to ship more in.”
“I didn’t think there were any survivors,” Sam said, politely neutral to the point of skepticism.
“Red Army had pills. They came in the night. Every night. But Blue Army killed some of Red Army, and the bodies had pills of their own. Please, you’re the first one I’ve seen in hours. Please help me.” He was desperate, tearing up. He had the bloodshot eyes characteristic of someone who hadn’t taken 23/7 in a while.
“Why don’t you sell your computer?”
“If I sell my computer, then no one will even know to help me. I’ll save today by killing tomorrow.”
Sam saw the logic there, but still thought, “Bullshit”. The Sleepless Genocide had neared a 100% fatality rate. The leader of the country had given the pills to only his personal militia, and constant Midnight Raids wore down their enemies to nothing. Anyone who had survived was already out of the country and famous, tragic in the way of Anne Frank. Scams had started popping up after their story, chances given to save people who were already dead.
A second viewer appeared in the kid’s channel.
“They can see me! Please, I have to go! You’re my last chance!”
A time limit to pressure people into helping. Classic. Sam kept working, declining even to respond. Every second he stayed longer on the line was less time scamming other people.
“Please! I-” In the middle of his sentence, red splattered across the camera. Through the streaks, she could see his body collapse bonelessly, head in fragments.
“Well damn. I guess he wasn’t faking.”
Sam changed the Channel.
______________________________________________________
31/365. Constructive criticism welcome and appreciated. | It was three years after Sleep-X came out. Life is different, life is better. Family’s spend more time together, more work, and improve over all life. But things have started happening. I my self have not taken Sleep-X because I prefer the
“old fashioned “ it makes me feel more... comfortable. When the thing started happening people never linked it to Sleep-X. People thought it was just a temporary thing. People have started to realize though people have started to see what’s really going on. Some people have a stronger immunity and some people don’t even take Sleep-X like me. The world is breaking down. SHTF has finally happened. I have barracked myself in my room. I have earmuffs. But that’s not enough to muffle the screaming. I hear them banging on my apartment door now. If they get in I will die. I suppose I should tell you what is going on. About a month ago people started disappearing then reappearing but when they came back things tatted getting violent. People started attacking each other and the bodies would have bight sized chunks taken out of them. My theory is that the drug made you produce a chemical that made you angry and that would cause cannibalism. I have to go now. They are almost in and I’m going to take my first Sleep-X pill goodnight and sleep tight. | |
[WP] A new drug is released that allows humans to experience a full night's sleep in around forty-five minutes, and it can be used indefinitely. The entire pattern of human culture shifts overnight. It's been several years, and the unintended consequences are becoming evident. | Hey man, what are you really into?
Well, I enjoy botany and computer science and hiking and philosophy and knitting and meditation and astronomy and and and...
But I never get to do any of those things.
No. Drug testing was used in the past to exclude potential employees who occasionally smoked weed or had a problem with painkillers or whatever their hard lives had led them to discover to deal with the crippling pain of modern life. Now things are inverted. If you don’t test positive for Micro-Sleep(tm) no one will hire you.
Every corporate entity requires 20 hour work days from its employees. There are still weekends, but they hardly make up for the grind of a 100 hour work week. The rest of the day is reserved for commuting, interaction with offspring, and “sleep”.
The sleep that remains is sudden and profound. An industry has arisen from the need to shield sleeping humans from any sort of hazard that they may encounter in that 45 minutes of dream-saturated oblivion, as people who are in this sort of sleep are completely incapable of waking for *anything*. Fire alarms are impotent in the face of this sort of sleep. Occasionally someone dies while in this state, but it’s always explained away. “He had a heart arrhythmia”. “She had a latent AVM”. “It’s perfectly safe!” “People have always died in their sleep!”
My daughter Pearl was only 4 when this drug thundered its way onto the global stage. I figured that it wouldn’t affect a child, particularly such a small one, as Micro-Sleep(tm) was initially only marketed to people 18 and over. Two years passed before some admin somewhere figured that children could absorb so much information if they never needed to sleep.
Here she is. Ten years old and knows more than I could possibly imagine. Botany. Philosophy. Knitting/crochet. She is terrifying but also hollow. She has infinite focus and determination. She has the depth of outer space in her deep green eyes, and during our regularly scheduled 15 minute interactions I am forced to wonder what she would be if not for this drug.
“Hey mom.”
“What?”
“What was life like before the, thing?”
“We didn’t exist in the usual way for a third to one half of our lives and the COMPANY was somewhat less profitable.”
“Oh. Did you know the name of all of Jupiter’s moons?”
“No.”
She’s so bloody smug. | From Someone’s Journal:
Okay, I don’t have a lot of time to write this (too much school work), but I need to get it out. It’ll be a bit of a mess, so I apologize to anyone reading.
To be honest, I don't think it was anyone’s fault. As much as I wanted someone to blame - well, we all did - the “system” never meant to hurt us. The problems of past generations, their constant *need* for productivity, to do *something* - it passed on, to the point where… Actually, I was going to say the “important things in life were forgotten”, but that wasn’t what caused it at all. No, they were *too* focused on the important things, the “greater good” and all that. The point is, society only became more competitive over the years, I think, and… Well, ha, I’m thirteen. My whole life, this special “drug” of sorts was advertised as the being the best in the world. It was an instant success, billboards were plastered everywhere. I always thought it was somewhat ironic - how they would bombard us with how “excellent, amazing, wonderful” this stupid drug was alongside D.A.R.E; how it was just common knowledge that it was *perfect*. Sorry, I’m really bitter about this whole stupid, awful, stinking monstrous problem I’m dealing with… Argh, I’ll get to it in a moment. I’m a bit woozy. Stupid brain fog - this is a mess to write out.
Here’s the worst part. They could have gotten rid of it! Just months after this awful drug came out, there were a few “side effects”. Oh, sure, they mentioned them on the bottle, but they conveniently failed to describe the full horrific extent of dealing with them. Mental illnesses are so hard to diagnose, so easy to write off as nonexistent. It was just *feelings* that people were experiencing - nothing more, right?
The first time I took it, I was actually pretty enthusiastic. I can’t stress that enough - I was looking forward to get stuff done. I’d never be tired again! HAH! No more painful late nights, cramming on homework - about ninety percent of my problems, just *gone*. Like everyone else at school, this was just heaven. Perfect, wonderful, amazing heaven. Oh…
That first night, the dreams were so painfully vivid. Virtual reality was cool, of course, but this was actual reality. It was as if… Well, my brain seemed like it was trying to compensate, I guess, and compacted about eight hours into a short sixty-minute play. It was like switching from animated movies to action-packed “adult” ones.
Balance has always been an important concept, right? Balance your life - don’t dwell on the same activity for too long, take care of yourself, all that good stuff. Nopenopenope. Not anymore. When I woke up, I was panting. It wasn’t even a nightmare, just the typical weird stuff I always dream about… But I was *exhausted*, like I’d just run a marathon or something.
But that was normal. I didn’t realize how bad it would be, but it was normal for your first time trying it. That day at school, between the mountains of work everyone was focused on, well… I couldn’t.
Ever since then - and this is just the tip of the iceberg - ever since, my ability to focus hasn’t been the same. I mean, I still can. It’s not like that, but… Well, it’s just all messed up. Dang it, why…
Argh. I do think I might have figured out what’s going on. It’s my emotions that were amped up. But… Not in the normal way, that you actually do get from being tired. I still feel things normally - I still do - but… Well, they just seem to cut deeper. Everything I go through leaves a bigger impact on me.
I tried to talk to people. Apparently, I was one of those weird folks who experience the uncommon symptoms. I don’t know if I mentioned this before, but those people were also more likely to be mentally ill in certain ways, according to the studies they performed. *Great*, now I was paranoid about being labeled. But, was the fact that I felt paranoid the *cause* of them?
Please help, please help, help, I’m having another panic attack. Yep, I know, I suppose there’s the mental illness I’d been worried about. I can’t do this anymore.
Sorry, okay, I need to calm down. I haven’t even started writing about the actual problem. Here’s the thing - I said it before, but… Well, argh.
I have a theory. I haven’t been able to discuss it much with anyone, but… Maybe the “subconscious”, or the part of the brain that becomes active when you’re asleep, is actually it’s own… Part? I don’t know what I’m saying. The point is, maybe… Actually, I’ll just start from the beginning. I’m going in circles.
Weeks passed, in which I took the drug every day. Like everyone did. I couldn’t figure out why they all seemed… *Fine*, while I was dying inside. Until recently, actually… Nevermind.
But, well, there were just these moments. It shoved my anxiety (which had hardly been a problem beforehand) up to the breaking point. That was supposed to be the complete extent of, and the only, side effect, though. Nothing more.
Nope, then I had to go and shatter. It started with the usual symptoms - heart palpitations were particularly frightening at first, but then sleep paralysis showed up and blew that fear out of the water. Oh, I hated it so much, so much. Still, that was all medically *possible* - I should have been grateful.
The real issue was that horrible *extra* feeling. I’m a little scared to talk about this, even if this is just a stupid journal… I haven’t told anyone.
It was a darkness. One night, there was a dream that hurt - an enchantress appeared, almost kind, and *gentle*, in a way, but I knew that wasn’t the case. Beautiful… As she trapped me down, locked me inside the cage, but then the chemical would bring me back up to the surface, gasping for breath.
Then I’d forget all about it, and it would restart the next night.
It wasn’t until recently that the feeling began to affect me. I can’t even describe it, that feeling. It just keeps getting worse. NO, it makes no difference if it’s all in my head, because the
problems it’s causing me are real, and I can’t deal with this. I’ve spent so many nights crying, so many afternoons feeling something in my chest being clawed at, tugged away.
It’s trying to control me, I can feel it.
Every day, I fight this battle. It’s a parasite, I know it is. I try, try so hard - I try to think about flying. Think about running, think about freedom.
Only once was I able to stop the feeling. It was so painful. I spent an hour on the floor, just trying to resist the creepy, horrible urge. Eventually, I was able to stand up and leave. But if I’d stayed down, I wouldn’t have been able to keep fighting for much longer. It never gave up. I couldn’t believe how emotionally drained I was afterwards. It was like the opposite of crying, like when you bundle something up for months, except this happened in a matter of minutes. But I was also proud of myself, as if I’d won some spectacular battle. And for a while, the feeling seemed manageable.
Until I forgot to keep my guard up, and it struck again.
Actually… You know what? I think I just figured out something. Everyone isn’t okay. They already gave in, maybe even on their first day. That’s why there’s no more feeling in the world… That’s it, isn’t it?
Oh, no. That’s it. I just figured this out. The monster… It’s infected everyone. They’re all gone.
But… it would be easier, wouldn’t it? I think I’ll just give up now. Maybe…
No, no, I can’t. No…
There I go. Drifting off, oblivion so close I can feel it - I *need* it… Please.
Okay, goodbye, I’ll finish this later. Too tired. But I’m not sleepy at all. Just a little confused, I guess.
3:32 a.m. | |
[WP] A new drug is released that allows humans to experience a full night's sleep in around forty-five minutes, and it can be used indefinitely. The entire pattern of human culture shifts overnight. It's been several years, and the unintended consequences are becoming evident. | When the effects became apparent, the world was separated into three sections.
 
The first section were those who had never taken the sleep drug (or Triple-Z, as it had come to be known). This section was called "humans" because the other factions were so far from it. But these were the people who made the obvious smart decision before the un-obvious—but expected—consequences manifested. And although these people did not directly experience effects from Triple-Z, they almost certainly experienced the indirect consequences: a mother, brother, or daughter slowly slipping away. Unquestionably. Indescribably. And Untreatably.
 
The second section was reserved for the "marrers" as they had come to be known...The drug seemed, right, at first. Productivity increased. Happiness spiked. Global well-being seemed to brighten to a level never before seen. This lasted a few years. Until the drug transformed the course of human history. Users—even if they had taken only one pill—began to change. There were two types of transformation. The first, was petrifying. 50% of users began to experience nightmares during the day. Their most horrendous fears were fraught to their waking reality. Horrors unknown tortured people 24/7. There was an irony to this effect: users couldn't sleep, but they also couldn't die from lack of sleep. Part of their brain was exercising some fragile sleep necessity. Couple these realities, and marrers became the most terrifying creatures imaginable: People cowering in corners from an invisible threat; people running down the street from a nonexistent terror; people stabbing at the air, warding off an intangible fear. Self-mutialtion, murder, cannibalism, and suicide became expected side-effects for marrers.
 
But there was hope. The rest of Triple-Z users transformed into something quite incredible. They became known as "othersiders". They experienced pleasant dreams in their daily realities. But, contradictory to expectation, othersiders were not debilitated. Opposite, in fact. Othersiders were able to experience the most beautiful hallucinations. They could live their most pleasurable ecstasies. And—most incredibly—they could cull upon a creativity that sober consciousness couldn't touch. They could craft art to a degree unseen, they could make music to a level unheard, and they could invent on a plane far beyond normal capacity. Their intelligence was off the charts. They became a self-contained utopian race.
 
And they hold the cure to Triple-Z's effects, but they won't give it to us. Human's efforts at war have been met with supreme technologies. Human infiltrators never—ever—returned. And discourse has always been met with one answer:
 
"You need no cure for this."
| From Someone’s Journal:
Okay, I don’t have a lot of time to write this (too much school work), but I need to get it out. It’ll be a bit of a mess, so I apologize to anyone reading.
To be honest, I don't think it was anyone’s fault. As much as I wanted someone to blame - well, we all did - the “system” never meant to hurt us. The problems of past generations, their constant *need* for productivity, to do *something* - it passed on, to the point where… Actually, I was going to say the “important things in life were forgotten”, but that wasn’t what caused it at all. No, they were *too* focused on the important things, the “greater good” and all that. The point is, society only became more competitive over the years, I think, and… Well, ha, I’m thirteen. My whole life, this special “drug” of sorts was advertised as the being the best in the world. It was an instant success, billboards were plastered everywhere. I always thought it was somewhat ironic - how they would bombard us with how “excellent, amazing, wonderful” this stupid drug was alongside D.A.R.E; how it was just common knowledge that it was *perfect*. Sorry, I’m really bitter about this whole stupid, awful, stinking monstrous problem I’m dealing with… Argh, I’ll get to it in a moment. I’m a bit woozy. Stupid brain fog - this is a mess to write out.
Here’s the worst part. They could have gotten rid of it! Just months after this awful drug came out, there were a few “side effects”. Oh, sure, they mentioned them on the bottle, but they conveniently failed to describe the full horrific extent of dealing with them. Mental illnesses are so hard to diagnose, so easy to write off as nonexistent. It was just *feelings* that people were experiencing - nothing more, right?
The first time I took it, I was actually pretty enthusiastic. I can’t stress that enough - I was looking forward to get stuff done. I’d never be tired again! HAH! No more painful late nights, cramming on homework - about ninety percent of my problems, just *gone*. Like everyone else at school, this was just heaven. Perfect, wonderful, amazing heaven. Oh…
That first night, the dreams were so painfully vivid. Virtual reality was cool, of course, but this was actual reality. It was as if… Well, my brain seemed like it was trying to compensate, I guess, and compacted about eight hours into a short sixty-minute play. It was like switching from animated movies to action-packed “adult” ones.
Balance has always been an important concept, right? Balance your life - don’t dwell on the same activity for too long, take care of yourself, all that good stuff. Nopenopenope. Not anymore. When I woke up, I was panting. It wasn’t even a nightmare, just the typical weird stuff I always dream about… But I was *exhausted*, like I’d just run a marathon or something.
But that was normal. I didn’t realize how bad it would be, but it was normal for your first time trying it. That day at school, between the mountains of work everyone was focused on, well… I couldn’t.
Ever since then - and this is just the tip of the iceberg - ever since, my ability to focus hasn’t been the same. I mean, I still can. It’s not like that, but… Well, it’s just all messed up. Dang it, why…
Argh. I do think I might have figured out what’s going on. It’s my emotions that were amped up. But… Not in the normal way, that you actually do get from being tired. I still feel things normally - I still do - but… Well, they just seem to cut deeper. Everything I go through leaves a bigger impact on me.
I tried to talk to people. Apparently, I was one of those weird folks who experience the uncommon symptoms. I don’t know if I mentioned this before, but those people were also more likely to be mentally ill in certain ways, according to the studies they performed. *Great*, now I was paranoid about being labeled. But, was the fact that I felt paranoid the *cause* of them?
Please help, please help, help, I’m having another panic attack. Yep, I know, I suppose there’s the mental illness I’d been worried about. I can’t do this anymore.
Sorry, okay, I need to calm down. I haven’t even started writing about the actual problem. Here’s the thing - I said it before, but… Well, argh.
I have a theory. I haven’t been able to discuss it much with anyone, but… Maybe the “subconscious”, or the part of the brain that becomes active when you’re asleep, is actually it’s own… Part? I don’t know what I’m saying. The point is, maybe… Actually, I’ll just start from the beginning. I’m going in circles.
Weeks passed, in which I took the drug every day. Like everyone did. I couldn’t figure out why they all seemed… *Fine*, while I was dying inside. Until recently, actually… Nevermind.
But, well, there were just these moments. It shoved my anxiety (which had hardly been a problem beforehand) up to the breaking point. That was supposed to be the complete extent of, and the only, side effect, though. Nothing more.
Nope, then I had to go and shatter. It started with the usual symptoms - heart palpitations were particularly frightening at first, but then sleep paralysis showed up and blew that fear out of the water. Oh, I hated it so much, so much. Still, that was all medically *possible* - I should have been grateful.
The real issue was that horrible *extra* feeling. I’m a little scared to talk about this, even if this is just a stupid journal… I haven’t told anyone.
It was a darkness. One night, there was a dream that hurt - an enchantress appeared, almost kind, and *gentle*, in a way, but I knew that wasn’t the case. Beautiful… As she trapped me down, locked me inside the cage, but then the chemical would bring me back up to the surface, gasping for breath.
Then I’d forget all about it, and it would restart the next night.
It wasn’t until recently that the feeling began to affect me. I can’t even describe it, that feeling. It just keeps getting worse. NO, it makes no difference if it’s all in my head, because the
problems it’s causing me are real, and I can’t deal with this. I’ve spent so many nights crying, so many afternoons feeling something in my chest being clawed at, tugged away.
It’s trying to control me, I can feel it.
Every day, I fight this battle. It’s a parasite, I know it is. I try, try so hard - I try to think about flying. Think about running, think about freedom.
Only once was I able to stop the feeling. It was so painful. I spent an hour on the floor, just trying to resist the creepy, horrible urge. Eventually, I was able to stand up and leave. But if I’d stayed down, I wouldn’t have been able to keep fighting for much longer. It never gave up. I couldn’t believe how emotionally drained I was afterwards. It was like the opposite of crying, like when you bundle something up for months, except this happened in a matter of minutes. But I was also proud of myself, as if I’d won some spectacular battle. And for a while, the feeling seemed manageable.
Until I forgot to keep my guard up, and it struck again.
Actually… You know what? I think I just figured out something. Everyone isn’t okay. They already gave in, maybe even on their first day. That’s why there’s no more feeling in the world… That’s it, isn’t it?
Oh, no. That’s it. I just figured this out. The monster… It’s infected everyone. They’re all gone.
But… it would be easier, wouldn’t it? I think I’ll just give up now. Maybe…
No, no, I can’t. No…
There I go. Drifting off, oblivion so close I can feel it - I *need* it… Please.
Okay, goodbye, I’ll finish this later. Too tired. But I’m not sleepy at all. Just a little confused, I guess.
3:32 a.m. | |
My first post, I forgot to tag my last one... | [WP] You’re a young knight sent on a quest to slay a dragon. When you arrive at its lair, it greets you with a plate full of chocolate chip cookies and snacks. It’s the worst beast of all: An Overly Loving Dragon Matriarch! | The dragon’s den was close. I had my sword and shield ready. I had been ordered to slay this dragon by my father.
And being 14 with no combat experience, I was doomed. But I can’t say no to my father, so in I went. I looked around the cave, and it was nothing like I was expecting. It was well lit, there was a nice fire in the corner, and there was a surprising lack of skeletons or bones.
I was a little confused, but remembered my mission, and knocked on the door a few times. “Uh, dragon? Hello? I’m here to-“ Then there were huge stomps, making me rise off the ground with every stomp. I started shaking in fear, and one of the stomps made me drop my shield down the mountain. Great. Just great. I may as well just stab myself. I just waited for the dragon to approach, and it finally did after what seemed like forever.
It was green, scaly and at least five times my size. It looked down at me, and I was shaking out of the boots that I didn’t have. “Uh....I’m here to-“ The dragon gasped in awe and looked at me, amazed. “Oh my god, what a cute kid! You look so cute! I could just eat you up! Literally, I could!”
I stood shaking in fear some more, before she motioned forward. “Come in, come in! I just made a fresh plate of cookies!” Cookies? I used my better judgement, and followed her inside. “I must say, we rarely get visitors here! It’s always nice to have company in a while!” She walked over to a small table, and pulled a chair out for me to sit in.
In the back, I could see another dragon sitting on a couch. This one was wearing sunglasses and seemed pretty fat. The female dragon turned to that one, and said “Oh Donny! Come see what I found outside!” Donny just glanced over, then went back to reading. “Wow. Amazing.” I didn’t know what to do, so I was just silent. Then the female dragon put down a plate of these weird things that I assumed were ‘cookies.’ “Here you go! Dig in!” I looked at them confused for a bit. I looked up at her and said “Um, I don’t know what a cookie is. Is it like some sort of dragon thing?” Her jaw dropped, and she laughed really hard. “Oh sweetie! You’ve never had a cookie before? Don’t worry, they’re totally harmless, and they taste delicious. Try one!” They did smell really nice, so I ate one. Then I ate three. Then I ate the whole plate in 3 minutes.
She was very amused, and started making more. “So boy, what brings you to me and my husband’s domain?” This would be an awkward conversation. But I didn’t have any way to lie, so I just told the truth. “Um.....My dad sort of told me I had to kill a dragon....” I expected a bad reaction, but she just laughed. “Oh, another knight! That’s just amazing!” She looked at me. “But you sure don’t look like a knight. Where’s your armor? Your steed? And a shield!” “Well, Dad wouldn’t give me his armor or his horse. And I dropped my shield on the way up here.” “Well that is rather foolish. Why would he send you to kill a dragon without the proper equipment?” I twiddled my fingers. “Eh, I think he was just sending me to die. He said that the only way I could still live with him was if I slayed a dragon. So in his eyes I probably would’ve died either way.”
She gasped again. “That is just AWFUL! If you were my son, I’d treat you the kindest I ever could!” That’s probably the nicest thing I’ve heard in a while. I smiled up at her. “Thank you Mrs. Dragon.” She laughed again. “Oh please, call me Cynthia.” But then I looked down sad. “But now I don’t know what to do. You two seem really nice, and I couldn’t kill you even if I wanted to. But I can’t go back home...” Cynthia started thinking. “Hmm. I’d be a horrible dragon if I let you go back to your father. But I can’t let you go out on the streets...” She then snapped her fingers, and bent down to me.
“How about this? You can live with me and my husband! I’ve always wanted a boy of my own, but I can’t have children. I’d treat you the best you’d ever been treated before!” I was very surprised by the proposal. “R-Really? You’d do that?” “Of course! I can make you cookies every week! So how about it?” It sounded so great. So it’s pretty obvious that I said “Yes! Thank you Cynthia.” She clapped her hands in anticipation. “Oh yay! This is gonna be amazing! I can’t wait to teach you how to fly, and how to breathe fire, OOOH it’s gonna be great!” She started walking off happily.
I don’t think I have the heart to tell her I can’t do those things. Well, we’ll just see what happens.
________
Feedback is appreciated! And I’ll make a second part if you want. | "W...What the..." The knight drops his sword. The dragon yawns toward him and tilt her head.
The dragon appeared in front of him while he was taking shelter from the storm. The king ordered him to slay a dragon and bring back its head to him so that he can decorate the kingdom with it. It seems like a bither to do, but when your king is a damn selfish dictator, what choice do you have?
The dragon seems...tame. It nudged the cookie plate lightly with her nose toward the knight.
*Wait...cookies?*
**I was not expecting a visitor, so please forgive me. All I can offer right now are these cookies.** A womanly voice spoke inside his head. They knight looks around to find the source, but all he find is the dragon. Maybe...
**Yes. Dragons can talk, you know.** The dragon lets out a purr. It sounds like a chuckle. **Though most of the wilder ones choose to sate their hunger first than converse.**
"Uh...thanks..." The knight pick up a cookie and stuffs it inside his mouth. The sweet taste of chocolate fills his tastebuds and he hungrily wolfs down the entire plate. The journey up the treacherous mountain was really tiring. He burps lightly and blush. "Um...I..."
**Speak no more, child. I know why you are here.** The dragon grabs the plate with its front teeth and put it behind her. **We are also blessed with the gift of mind-reading.**
The dragon lets out a whistle. In a few second, the knight finds himself outnumbered with a dozen-even more are filling the cave....hundreds?! The knight warily picks his sword up, though he feels that it is small enough to be a dragon's toothpick than a dragon slayer...
**Save your strength, young one. It is way faster if you surrender than fight back. You can kill at most one, and I say, ONE of us before we shreds you into a pile of metal plate.** The knight complies and drops his sword. If the dragon gave him snacks to eat, it might not be that bad.
**But you see, I'm not a barbaric beast.** The dragon growl and the smaller dragons went back deep into the cave. **Instead, I have a proposition that can benefit the both of us.**
The knight scratch his brow with confusion. "Sure...What is it?"
---
"What do you mean you failed?!" The king slams his fist against the throne's armrest.
"My Majesty, like I said, I'm not going to slay a dragon." The knight speaks calmly. He stare at the king with a rebellious look. "If you want, you can
"You- You!!" The king's face is red with rage. "Guards! GUARDS! Throw him into the prison!"
Suddenly, the roof of the castle is ripped open. The king's eyes widen as a dozen of dragons stare back at him. He tumbled backward. The guards gasp and step back.
With the little strength back from his "Wha....Whats the meaning of th-this?" One of the dragons burped and let out a ball of fire. There is a familiar smell in the air...cookies?
"Well, My Majes- You know what? Can I call you Franzel?" The knight steps closer to the king with a grin on his face. Frozen in fear, he can only look as the knight took his crown and place it on his own head.
"I chatted a bit with one of the dragons. Suffice to say, Franzel, I'm afraid there is gonna be a few changes in leadership." The knight waves at the dragons. "No dragons are to be slayed from now on." |
Thought of an idea like this while thinking what if Will Smith's Hancock went against Superman. | [WP]You are one of thousands who received superpowers, you are the strongest out of all, to entertain yourself you have played the villain and let the less powerful keep you at bay. When real evil comes, you must work together and must convince the others you have been messing around the whole time. | "come back to our side!!" A girl yelled out to me, I yawned and smiled as I used my powers to brush her aside. It was a regular day for me, illusionist, the greatest super villain in the world. The one that was begging for me to come back was psych the femme fatale super heroine of the country and also my best friend or maybe former I don't know.
Oh wait you don't know too, ok let me give you some history lesson. Basically me and and little miss psych there were both recruited into this program where we could "potentially" be given super powers. There were a ton of people that tried but only a thousand people manage to get super powers.
Anyhow me and psych became fast friend and she discovered her powers in one of the test when she moved items with he mind. Boring power I know but she quickly became the program poster child cause she was proof it worked. And thus psych was born!!
Despite her fame she never really forgot about me even when I left the program (I was a late bloomer shhhhh). Either way as time progress she began to fall for this one dude, Pyro or what I like to call him Mr fantastic. He had the power of fire and she was strong in telekenisis so people often see them as a good match . Yet she was too shy to approach him and he was dense as hell so I thought I was doing them a favor by "helping fate" so to say.
Didn't know how that to turn me into a villain. Well maybe I do know... Cause I did burn that bridge just so that they would meet... And maybe trapping people in that bank just so that Mr fantastic could ask her out was a tiny bit overboard but hey they're now together!! Oh what you do for a friend I think I brought more people together than Cupid, cause a I did a ton of harm I hope most people from the program would be together . It worked many of them coupled up and I became renowned to he a villain. Something that I'm quite liking.
Either way as I was too occupied telling you my tale I didn't notice pyro came to save psyche. He managed to catch her like a gentleman he was and attacked me with one of his fireball. As his fireball reached me I alternate it and pretended to be hit to make him look good in front of psyche.
"OHHHH GOD THAT HURTS!!!" I yelled out as I fell "I remember this pyro!! You are in my list!!" I continued as I left the love birds quickly going into my hiding spot. "I should take up acting." I noted to myself as I hid to see the love birds from a far. I saw pyro saying something to psyche who looked sad which made her laugh. "God damn I wish I can hear what they're saying but if I get any closer I'll get discovered!!" I sigh at the thought when I suddenly saw psyche stole a kiss from pyro making him blush.
"AWWW THATS SO CUTE!! Pyro if you do anything to hurt my friend I'll make sure you'll die!!" I said to myself not really realizing someone was listening in. As the two were being lovey dovey an earthquake suddenly happen. "What the hell" I asked myself as I looked around trying to remember if there was anyone in the group that could do such feat. As the Earth shakes crack began to emerge endangering people around us. Psyche was quick to act and used her powers to save them while pyro quickly followed suit. I didn't realize that the ground below psyche was much weaker as she suddenly fell into the Earth and when that happened the earthquake stopped and the hole psyche fell in was filled.
"PSYCHE!!!" Both me and pyro yelled out as pyro tried to dug out psyche from the hole. He slowly realize there was another voice and turned to me."Kayla stop this!!" He yelled out my real name, god he must be angry but I was as confuse as he was. "I didn't do anything!" I said defending myself. "STOP LYING DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH PSYCHE MEAN TO ME?!" he asked no practically scream at me. "DUDE I KNOW SHE'S MY BEST FRIEND!!" "BEST FRIEND MY ASS YOU BURN THAT BRIDGE!" "BUT IF I DIDN'T YOU WOULDN'T BE TOGETHER NOW WOULD YOU?!" I yelled back. I could tell there was a pause as he began to realize my acts. "Anyhow this isn't even my powers I can't do earthquake" I continued.
Anyhow you must be wondering what my powers are? Well it's not love related, it's illusions, I can make damn good illusions that have a time limit on them, my limit now is 10 minutes , still that doesn't explain how I manage to survive a fireball. Well actually I have an added power, space control. If something enters my space I have full power to change or destroy them. So when the fireball reached me I simply made it weaker thus allowing me to survive and still give Mr fantastic some brownie point. This power is also why people can't seem to find me, cause I change my appearance and so if they see me now they see an elderly woman not a girl skipping happily. These two powers make me the most powerful but cause I left they don't know that heh they don't know anything.
As I was once again occupied with my thoughts captain oblivious flew pass me snapping me out of my daze. His real superhero name was something better that relates to flight but I just call him captain oblivious cause he was damn oblivious to miss dandelion another one of our superhero friends that controls surprise plants. I did manage to get them together... Of course that was at the price of a power plant meltdown... But that's a story for another day.
"Kayla did you..." Captain oblivious asked as he looked at the two of us then looked around. "Continue your sentence luke and I'll tell people your underwear colour..." I threaten him casually. He backed down "but your the only one that likes to do this..." Pyro said as if refusing to accept I was innocent. "Dude I did that cause I thought it was entertaining to get you all together I never hurt people..." I argued. The two guys looked at one another. "You burn a power plant..." "You burn a bridge..." "You went into a bookstore and held a ton of people hostage..."
Part two maybe?
| So guys. Theres a bigger and badder bad evil villain coming and im actually not that not evil. Well in a way. Well im not evil in the way of kidnapping and murdering. I see how you would view me as a evil person with me beating you up and shit but i have like nothing better to do. I took out all the evil so i became the evil. I was keeping you guys useful to your country. I never did hurt you guys to the point you needed to go to the hospital, only to the point where a blunt and sleep should make you feel better. So help a brotha out. |
Thought of an idea like this while thinking what if Will Smith's Hancock went against Superman. | [WP]You are one of thousands who received superpowers, you are the strongest out of all, to entertain yourself you have played the villain and let the less powerful keep you at bay. When real evil comes, you must work together and must convince the others you have been messing around the whole time. | “You’re not going to get away this time” said Ace forcefully.
God, I hear that about twice a month. It’s the typical robbery skit, I stole some old vase and after a little play I’ll just give it back to them and they’ll take me to a prison where I’ll get out in about an hour or 2.
I don’t feel well today. Not in a sick kind of way but in more of a ‘I wanna stay in my room and listen to Luther Vandross records’ kind of way. Let’s make this a quick one.
“Get me? You can’t even touch me!” And now Kenny, ahem, Speedster, is gonna end up behin-
“Who can’t touch you!” Speedster strikes me in the back of the head, it kind of hurts. I feel really off today.
“Okay, ow; you know what, I give up, take the overpriced pot I surrender.”
“Don’t think we’re gonna lower our guard. Deadbolt, restrain him before he gets up” said Kayla.
Oh, Kayla, you’re always on top of things. It’s always nice to hear your voice.
Deadbolt (whose real name is Sheldon, seriously; 7’ tall super strong beast is named Sheldon) wraps me up in his arms that were as thick as oak trees. It’s actually kind of comfy, I’m ready to be taken to wherever they decide to put me this time.
The portal opened. Circular, with a magenta hue covering it with a dark purple iris. I know that portal. What the hell? *Did he follow me? How is he here?*
“Um, guys, you should all look up.”
“That’s a really crappy attempt to ge-... wait what is that?” Ace looks both confused and intimidated.
He began to descend from the portal, his hand reaching through it looking older and more wrinkled, *why do you look so old?* He may be older, but it’s certainly him, I gotta get these guys out of here.
“I’m sorry Sheldon” I flex my arms out sending Deadbolt flying back, the Legion is shocked by my strength.
“I need you all to leave right now.” I look Kayla in the eye and beg her to understand “please go, he will kill you.”
“Hello Veratoss, I’ve waited so long to see you again, so happy to be reunited.” His voice is so cold, yet I genuinely believe him.
“Victor, my name is Nicholas; you know that, why are you here?”
“I’ve come to reunite with my teacher, you have more to show me.”
“If he’s with Veratoss, he’s an enemy to us! Form up Legion!” Ace blasts off with his ability towards Victor.
“Oh, god, Matthew! Don’t try to attack him! Please!” I plead with him, but he’s already moving in
Matthew has the ability to create massive explosions outward from his body, this is completely useless against Victor. Matthew sends a massive blast punch to Victor’s face; right before, a portal appears in front of Victor. The blast is sucked in, another portal appears above Matthew, the blast being spit back out and sending him crashing down, *please be alive Matt*
I jump in to stop his fall and place him gently on the floor, my eyes light up with energy, I hit Victor at Mach 10. I will the ground to move with me, and I trap Victor in a floating prison of rock as the Earth moves like liquid and swallows him whole. I then send a massive blast of lighting from my hand into Victor’s prison. That’ll barely slow him down. My former foes known as the legion of justice stare with eyes wide open as they realize the truth. If I ever took any of this villain stuff seriously, they wouldn’t have lasted a second.
“Get him out of there” I say, “I can’t protect you guys from this close, go now!”
Kenny and Sheldon are confused on what to do as their world has been flipped upside down
“Sheldon, get Matt. Kenny, run to any town within 5 miles and let the police know they need to be evacuated.” Commanded Kayla
Thank god for Kayla. She’s always good with snap decisions.
“I see you managed to find her again Veratoss, it’s a shame what happened to her before.”
“That’s not happening again” I shake the ground as I ascend
Continue later since I have class
| So guys. Theres a bigger and badder bad evil villain coming and im actually not that not evil. Well in a way. Well im not evil in the way of kidnapping and murdering. I see how you would view me as a evil person with me beating you up and shit but i have like nothing better to do. I took out all the evil so i became the evil. I was keeping you guys useful to your country. I never did hurt you guys to the point you needed to go to the hospital, only to the point where a blunt and sleep should make you feel better. So help a brotha out. |
Thought of an idea like this while thinking what if Will Smith's Hancock went against Superman. | [WP]You are one of thousands who received superpowers, you are the strongest out of all, to entertain yourself you have played the villain and let the less powerful keep you at bay. When real evil comes, you must work together and must convince the others you have been messing around the whole time. | “You’re not going to get away this time” said Ace forcefully.
God, I hear that about twice a month. It’s the typical robbery skit, I stole some old vase and after a little play I’ll just give it back to them and they’ll take me to a prison where I’ll get out in about an hour or 2.
I don’t feel well today. Not in a sick kind of way but in more of a ‘I wanna stay in my room and listen to Luther Vandross records’ kind of way. Let’s make this a quick one.
“Get me? You can’t even touch me!” And now Kenny, ahem, Speedster, is gonna end up behin-
“Who can’t touch you!” Speedster strikes me in the back of the head, it kind of hurts. I feel really off today.
“Okay, ow; you know what, I give up, take the overpriced pot I surrender.”
“Don’t think we’re gonna lower our guard. Deadbolt, restrain him before he gets up” said Kayla.
Oh, Kayla, you’re always on top of things. It’s always nice to hear your voice.
Deadbolt (whose real name is Sheldon, seriously; 7’ tall super strong beast is named Sheldon) wraps me up in his arms that were as thick as oak trees. It’s actually kind of comfy, I’m ready to be taken to wherever they decide to put me this time.
The portal opened. Circular, with a magenta hue covering it with a dark purple iris. I know that portal. What the hell? *Did he follow me? How is he here?*
“Um, guys, you should all look up.”
“That’s a really crappy attempt to ge-... wait what is that?” Ace looks both confused and intimidated.
He began to descend from the portal, his hand reaching through it looking older and more wrinkled, *why do you look so old?* He may be older, but it’s certainly him, I gotta get these guys out of here.
“I’m sorry Sheldon” I flex my arms out sending Deadbolt flying back, the Legion is shocked by my strength.
“I need you all to leave right now.” I look Kayla in the eye and beg her to understand “please go, he will kill you.”
“Hello Veratoss, I’ve waited so long to see you again, so happy to be reunited.” His voice is so cold, yet I genuinely believe him.
“Victor, my name is Nicholas; you know that, why are you here?”
“I’ve come to reunite with my teacher, you have more to show me.”
“If he’s with Veratoss, he’s an enemy to us! Form up Legion!” Ace blasts off with his ability towards Victor.
“Oh, god, Matthew! Don’t try to attack him! Please!” I plead with him, but he’s already moving in
Matthew has the ability to create massive explosions outward from his body, this is completely useless against Victor. Matthew sends a massive blast punch to Victor’s face; right before, a portal appears in front of Victor. The blast is sucked in, another portal appears above Matthew, the blast being spit back out and sending him crashing down, *please be alive Matt*
I jump in to stop his fall and place him gently on the floor, my eyes light up with energy, I hit Victor at Mach 10. I will the ground to move with me, and I trap Victor in a floating prison of rock as the Earth moves like liquid and swallows him whole. I then send a massive blast of lighting from my hand into Victor’s prison. That’ll barely slow him down. My former foes known as the legion of justice stare with eyes wide open as they realize the truth. If I ever took any of this villain stuff seriously, they wouldn’t have lasted a second.
“Get him out of there” I say, “I can’t protect you guys from this close, go now!”
Kenny and Sheldon are confused on what to do as their world has been flipped upside down
“Sheldon, get Matt. Kenny, run to any town within 5 miles and let the police know they need to be evacuated.” Commanded Kayla
Thank god for Kayla. She’s always good with snap decisions.
“I see you managed to find her again Veratoss, it’s a shame what happened to her before.”
“That’s not happening again” I shake the ground as I ascend
Continue later since I have class
| Deephold Ultramax Containment Facility, Palisade City.
A prison complex for criminals so dangerous, that the majority of the sprawling main containment facility is built 2,500 feet underground and is strategically rigged with explosives that can destroy the entire facility within half an hour. And all the way at the bottom of this facility, at a depth of 3,000 feet was Extar, a
A heavily armored guard was temporarily relieved of his station of keeping the multiple heavy machine guns trained on Extar. "The sedatives will wear off soon, sir and madam. Please have a seat over here and you can talk to him soon."
In walked two of the city's most illustrious heroes, a husband-and-wife team that had saved Palisade City countless times over the years. Some of their exploits included stopping the Fight Mage, whose magic resembled fists and flying feet, the Death Broker, buying lives and selling assassinations and ended up living 150 years from the many people he had killed before he was stopped when he came to Palisade City, and the Alpha Queen, whose terrible reign began by physiologically enslaving and humiliating people then sending them to do her dirty work. They could only stop her with Extar's cooperation at the time. Extar was finally starting to wake up from his drug-induced sleep.
"Iron Paladin, Starlight, it's an honor to have you here. He's awake now, so go ahead and go in. We'll pull the machine guns back," the heavily armored guard said, barely managing to hold back the excitement of meeting his two childhood heroes.
"So this is why I'm awake. Just when I thought that today might be ever so slightly decent, I'm assailed by your ugly mugs. Alright then, out with it. What the fuck do you want?"
"That's no way to talk to me or your mother!" Iron Paladin barked. He tried to lunge at the still shackled Extar when Starlight stopped him.
"You remember what happened last time you hit him, dear?" Starlight said, desperately holding her husband back from repeating a grave mistake that was almost his last. The reminder sent pain surging through his side and forced him to clutch an old wound to keep from collapsing in sheer agony.
Extar broke into a sadistic laugh and an incredibly satisfied evil grin stretched across his face. "Hahahahah! I remember that. After that fight you started with me by slapping me across the face after I so graciously helped you out, I taught you a lesson. How did it feel, having your kidney burn from the inside?"
Iron Paladin was on his knees still clutching his old wound and Starlight was comforting him as much as she could before shooting him an angry look. "You know you didn't need to break her back and do all of that," she said.
"Oh, but I did," Extar explained. "That Alpha Queen piece of shit made one of my best friends into her little stool. **A FUCKING STOOL!** After I gave that bitch what she deserved, and after all of our hard work turning him back to human, he killed himself from the pain and humiliation! You don't do that to my friends and get a quick and painless death." Extar's rage had melted the heavy shackles, and almost melted the ship mooring chains that held the shackles in place.
"T-T-T-Tagaucity rest in peace," the guard stammered, nearly vomiting as he remembered how Extar tortured Alpha Queen after he confrontation was over. It was on the news, how Extar broke her back with a single punch to the spine then proceeded to slowly break her elbows, knees and fingers only to burn her bones and muscles from the inside while she was paralyzed and helpless afterwards. While she is technically still alive, it would have been far kinder to grab her by the back of her neck to rip her head off of her body.
"Listen here you little-" Iron Paladin's words were cut short by the pain from Extar's previous "lesson", and the building heat from the impending follow-up.
"No, *you* listen *here*! The only reason I'm in here is because I wanted to be," Extar retorted. "And it looks like you're due for a remedial course, you piece of shit!" As he began to radiate more heat into the cell and gather it into his hand to point at his father, the guard gave him a stern warning over the PA system in the cell.
"You're my friend and I don't wanna do this, but any more of that and you're getting the machine guns. With the *stinky* rounds. Do you want the stinky rounds?" The threat of the stinky rounds was enough to make even Extar back off a bit. The last time that happened, it took three day to wash the smell off. He wasn't going through *that* again.
Finding the one thing that could stop Extar gave Starlight the opportunity to speak up. It was slightly amusing to her that the world's most dangerous villain could be stopped with something that smelled really bad. Of course, Starlight wisely kept this to herself.
"The reason we're here is because we need your help," she continued from where Iron Paladin was cut off before. "Did you hear about the volcano that sprung up recently?"
"No, but there is only one person that all of us know can do that," Extar sighed. "Let me get this straight. You're asking me to fix another one of your fuck-ups. You are both trash and don't deserve to be called our parents, but since I got some peace and quiet for once out of the deal, I suppose I can let you cash this favor in," he relented, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "I better not get another slap in the face or a bolt to the back for helping you, or I'm frying you *both*, starting with your eyeballs."
Starlight led her pained husband out of the cell, and Extar waited until they were both out of the area to start getting ready.
"This is going to be a pain in the ass," he muttered as he melted through the cell doors and grabbed his equipment.
First time responding to a writing prompt. Any feedback appreciated.
Edited for formatting. Can we get a preview button on posting responses already? |
Thought of an idea like this while thinking what if Will Smith's Hancock went against Superman. | [WP]You are one of thousands who received superpowers, you are the strongest out of all, to entertain yourself you have played the villain and let the less powerful keep you at bay. When real evil comes, you must work together and must convince the others you have been messing around the whole time. | "And you think I'll believe you? After everything you've done?" It's a fair question. The entire nature of our relationship until now has been defined by my making up stories to lead her into insane situations and seemingly impossible odds, all in the name of entertainment. "You killed my husband..."
"Ahh, but I did bring him back, Dr. Frozenstar" I reply. "Yes, it was as a double-agent mind-slave at first, but I did so *knowing* that his inherent goodness and love for you would win through. I'd planned for it."
"Sure, but you made it happen *after* I'd already moved on and remarried! Just to cause more drama! If you could have done that all along, why did you do it when it would hurt me the most?"
"Why do any of us--those like me--do the things we do? Conflict is where you shine your brightest. Conflict is where we see your absolute best."
"How can that justify it? How can that justify any of it? Decades of putting us through the worst threats imaginable. Living one month to the next never knowing if we'd survive. Never knowing if our loved ones would survive. Never knowing if they might be secret betrayers that you'd put in our midst. You tampered with Agent Condor's mind, you made him a fundamentally different person at the core level, and for what?"
"So that he could learn that his zealous nature, if misdirected, might lead him to become that which he hates most." I sigh. "I've done hundreds, maybe thousands of things to all of you just as awful. I don't blame you for your skepticism. Your ability to approach a situation rationally is absolutely what I admire most about you."
"You still haven't answered my first question." She crosses her arms and gives me that look that I know, exactly the one that tells me that she cannot be fooled. And I have no intent to try. "Why should I believe you?"
"I'm not telling you so that you'll believe me. I know that you might never. I know that you probably shouldn't. I'm telling you because you need to know. I'm telling you because you're a doctor, and you'll understand, and you'll be able to explain to the others better than I could."
"Why do you care if I know? Why do you care if they do?"
"Because all this time I've been an ever-present thorn in your sides, you've been a major piece of my life. You may not understand it--who could?--but you're all some of the people I admire most, and as egotistical as this sounds, you're all some of what I'm most proud of." She's looking into my eyes, and I can see that she's angry at herself for believing me. "I'm sorry that this explanation can never be enough. No, that's not right. I'm sorry that you've gone through this. I'm sorry that I *put you*, all of you, through this. This lifetime of turmoil."
"Why did you?"
"Let me... Let me show you something. Something you're never supposed to see. It's something of an unwritten rule, but, who am I if not someone who breaks the rules, right?"
I take her hand, and I show her. I show her the world she has never dreamed of. Her name in print, her face drawn in dramatic shades on newsstands, by dozens of artists over many years. Her earliest iterations in bright, unshaded colors on books that cost 10 cents. Her latest adventures, illustrated with more dynamic lighting and better paper stock. I show her one of my proudest moments, when a young girl approaches me and asks me to sign the cover.
"That's why. And let me tell you, as much as it has hurt me to put you through everything I have, for her and others like her, I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat."
She won't look me in the eyes now. I don't know if she understands--I've seen her thoughts through countless moments before, I've revised the thought bubbles myself, but faced with this, even I can't guess at what goes on her mind. When she speaks again, she doesn't acknowledge what she's seen.
"It's incurable? For sure?"
"There's no cure for growing old, no. And thankfully, no cure for a life well lived."
"What should I tell them?"
"Only the truth. Tell them that their lifelong nemesis, The Author, is finally facing the end of his story." | “You’ll have to release me at one point,” jeered Crown, lips stretched into a jester smirk. “All of you, even with ALL of your powers and might and hope and de-ter-min-nation~” Crown let himself chuckle. “All of your souls and essence couldn’t hope, let alone cage, that great evil that’ll befall our home.”
“Our home?” Cement Raider balked, “Do you even know how many times — how many lives you’ve put in danger in our home?”
Crown lifted his eyes up, deep in thought. “More times than there are pages in the dictionary.”
It was Alchemist’s turn to unleash her anger. In the form of a jarring lightning strike birthed from her palms. Crown shook violently from the electrical surges rampaging from the soles of his bare bruised feet to the charred remains of his stark white hair.
If Crown was still human, he would have been blinded and left a corpse from such a vicious attack.
Crown was not human. And he did not scream or make a noise from the violence.
“Damn you, damn you,” seethed Alchemist, tears rolling down her rich black cheeks. “We shouldn’t have to need you.”
Crown coughed up a puff of smoke. Fingers and neck twitching involuntarily from the electricity. “Ah, but you do, mademoiselle.”
“We’re the ones who’ve protected this city from you.” Alchemist steppes forward, her sharp visage demanding attention, paralleling a true dictator.
Ah. Crown briefly thought, smiling small. I am conflicted over not having you by my side, my darling.
Because at her side was Warlock. A twin to her uniform. Partners against the evil and shadows hiding lurking darkness. Black capes flourishing behind them, sharper eyes than an falcon’s and burrowing for justice, hands still at their side — fists and open palms that have distributed raw justice and mercy simultaneously. And behind them followed the thousands of former humans chosen to hold extraordinary powers.
Crown could easily forget about their presence, but not because they weren’t — would never be — a threat to him. One look at her, and all of the good, the meaning behind heroism and sacrifice, and the reason behind the question of “Why must good triumph over evil?”
Well, Alchemist and Warlock brought to bright sunlight the reasonings for why... why Crown ceased his villainous debacle, and why Good has no choice but to triumph over the great evil.
“You’ve grown to be quite fierce,” muttered Crown.
Alchemist’s narrowed eyes faltered. Crown grinned. Their previous history was still alive in her eyes. Thank God, thank You.
No matter how much I want you by my side...
Crown breathed in a deep, powerful breath. “But it’s not fierce enough. You and your Archetype of Justice will need my powers. I’m the final piece of the puzzle, you see,” Crown steadily stood up, cracking his knuckles and swiping his draconic tail against cold, cement flooring. “Without me, your puzzle is incomplete and you’ve stand no chance defeating the great evil.”
“Gabe, don’t—“
A power never manifested or shown, it was only an innate feature few people had — and carried the will to use it. A single glare holding countless bloody-mud covered World Wars, raging with the anger of sheer resolve and foreshadowing. You’ve seen what I’ve done, experienced it, breathed it, bled it, and the masses cheered and nosebled for it. Now, do you see what I can do? Do you want to live through what would make being skinned alive feel like a shiatsu massage?!
“Don’t?” Crown jeered, but his smile thin and tight — humorless. “Don’t what? Ever say that nonexistent name ever again? Good idea, Warlock!”
The mock villain’s eye twitched.
... remember, Crown, you’re only playing the villain. Don’t forget that. You’re not true evil, so don’t. go. off. the. rails.
Crown closed his eyes. Ignoring one of his powers that allowed him the freedom to feel the presence of anyone, everyone in a room. A centipede doesn’t writhe and rattle as much as these heroes did.
“Here’s a secret, heroes. The entire three years we’ve been playing our Saturday cartoon duels of good vs evil was merely a play date!” Crown’s eyes snapped open and he clapped his hands in mock enthusiasm. “In all those years, I hadn’t even used half of my powers.” |
Thought of an idea like this while thinking what if Will Smith's Hancock went against Superman. | [WP]You are one of thousands who received superpowers, you are the strongest out of all, to entertain yourself you have played the villain and let the less powerful keep you at bay. When real evil comes, you must work together and must convince the others you have been messing around the whole time. | How old was he? Decades seemed small, and centuries felt like bragging. The being sitting in a small police holding cell in... Saskatoon? It had not gone the way he'd planned to, to show off, rile up a hero or two, and then fly away. He had to play by the rules though, no bending reality, no changing the game. It was hard to be able to play that game when you were able to manipulate the fabric of reality. He'd once described it as "seeing the source code" while drunk at a party in the mid-nineties.
Doctor Teckno had been the, rather uninventive, name he had chosen to go with this round. Super smart and able to build anything technologically related. His 'lair' was a fortress, surrounded by a forcefield, and manned by robots. His real name was Erik. He'd had a last name at one point, but he'd long forgotten it. You see, the ability to build anything technological had been his handicap. He was immortal, a border line god, with his appearance a mere hardlight construction around his consciousness, which was contained inside a small sliver of gemstone looking material made from a material found only at the heart of a collapsed neutron star. Or something like that, he had decided anyways.
No, now he sat in the police cell while the hero's held the conference. Soon robots would descend upon the station, free him, and he would fly off, announcing his plan for revenge. Rinse, lather, repeat. As Major Starchild gave a rousing speech about the true strength of the SPD, Erik felt it, a sudden shift in the world. A shift in the aura of the universe. He looked up at the window to the outside world, where he could hear the final words and the cheering crowd. His curiosity got the better of him, and he used the water in the toilet to view the outside world, a simple trick. He saw four black military looking trucks approaching, with a simple logo painted on the side.
AECU.
Another shift in the water showed the people in there, masked soldiers holding AR15 rifles with odd underslung weapons on them. The leader, a cold faced woman, was joined by another man who seemed uninterested in everything around him, a fine tailored suit on both. The vehicles stopped, and Major Starchild, hovering at the end of his speech, turned to look at the new vehicles. The occupants piled out, and the man lit a cigarette, a look that was surely purely for show. The woman pointed to Starchild, and the man waved his hands, and the superhero dropped from the sky. He looked up, confused, and there was no delay, one of the soldiers shot him. Panic ensued, but there was enough time for the robotic minions of Doctor Teckno to arrive and rescue him, carting him off into the night, shielded by the hovering drones.
Abnormal Entity Containment Unit, a paramilitary organization that had promised the Governments of the world what they had wanted, law and order under their own terms. No more heros or villains. Police kept cities safe, not these abominations. Their secret weapon was a pulse that negated the effects of supers, made them no different than others. Highly dangerous ones were simply dispatched, but less dangerous were given a chance to "normalize" to not use their powers and to check in like they were some kind of drug addicts.
The Hall of Justice had once been the meeting point of the greatest heros of Earth, but now it was a burned out shell. Erik, AKA Doctor Teckno stood in the doorway, ignoring the grafiti. The rain the poured around him in the New York evening seemed to fall just short. He ignored the footsteps behind him, whatever it was couldn't truly hurt him. "Come to mock our fall, Doctor?" It was the voice of Constellation Girl, once a super hero that could summon powers based on the astrological sign of the time of the year. Erik didn't turn, but merely shrugged.
"No Margret, I came to see if I could help." | “You’ll have to release me at one point,” jeered Crown, lips stretched into a jester smirk. “All of you, even with ALL of your powers and might and hope and de-ter-min-nation~” Crown let himself chuckle. “All of your souls and essence couldn’t hope, let alone cage, that great evil that’ll befall our home.”
“Our home?” Cement Raider balked, “Do you even know how many times — how many lives you’ve put in danger in our home?”
Crown lifted his eyes up, deep in thought. “More times than there are pages in the dictionary.”
It was Alchemist’s turn to unleash her anger. In the form of a jarring lightning strike birthed from her palms. Crown shook violently from the electrical surges rampaging from the soles of his bare bruised feet to the charred remains of his stark white hair.
If Crown was still human, he would have been blinded and left a corpse from such a vicious attack.
Crown was not human. And he did not scream or make a noise from the violence.
“Damn you, damn you,” seethed Alchemist, tears rolling down her rich black cheeks. “We shouldn’t have to need you.”
Crown coughed up a puff of smoke. Fingers and neck twitching involuntarily from the electricity. “Ah, but you do, mademoiselle.”
“We’re the ones who’ve protected this city from you.” Alchemist steppes forward, her sharp visage demanding attention, paralleling a true dictator.
Ah. Crown briefly thought, smiling small. I am conflicted over not having you by my side, my darling.
Because at her side was Warlock. A twin to her uniform. Partners against the evil and shadows hiding lurking darkness. Black capes flourishing behind them, sharper eyes than an falcon’s and burrowing for justice, hands still at their side — fists and open palms that have distributed raw justice and mercy simultaneously. And behind them followed the thousands of former humans chosen to hold extraordinary powers.
Crown could easily forget about their presence, but not because they weren’t — would never be — a threat to him. One look at her, and all of the good, the meaning behind heroism and sacrifice, and the reason behind the question of “Why must good triumph over evil?”
Well, Alchemist and Warlock brought to bright sunlight the reasonings for why... why Crown ceased his villainous debacle, and why Good has no choice but to triumph over the great evil.
“You’ve grown to be quite fierce,” muttered Crown.
Alchemist’s narrowed eyes faltered. Crown grinned. Their previous history was still alive in her eyes. Thank God, thank You.
No matter how much I want you by my side...
Crown breathed in a deep, powerful breath. “But it’s not fierce enough. You and your Archetype of Justice will need my powers. I’m the final piece of the puzzle, you see,” Crown steadily stood up, cracking his knuckles and swiping his draconic tail against cold, cement flooring. “Without me, your puzzle is incomplete and you’ve stand no chance defeating the great evil.”
“Gabe, don’t—“
A power never manifested or shown, it was only an innate feature few people had — and carried the will to use it. A single glare holding countless bloody-mud covered World Wars, raging with the anger of sheer resolve and foreshadowing. You’ve seen what I’ve done, experienced it, breathed it, bled it, and the masses cheered and nosebled for it. Now, do you see what I can do? Do you want to live through what would make being skinned alive feel like a shiatsu massage?!
“Don’t?” Crown jeered, but his smile thin and tight — humorless. “Don’t what? Ever say that nonexistent name ever again? Good idea, Warlock!”
The mock villain’s eye twitched.
... remember, Crown, you’re only playing the villain. Don’t forget that. You’re not true evil, so don’t. go. off. the. rails.
Crown closed his eyes. Ignoring one of his powers that allowed him the freedom to feel the presence of anyone, everyone in a room. A centipede doesn’t writhe and rattle as much as these heroes did.
“Here’s a secret, heroes. The entire three years we’ve been playing our Saturday cartoon duels of good vs evil was merely a play date!” Crown’s eyes snapped open and he clapped his hands in mock enthusiasm. “In all those years, I hadn’t even used half of my powers.” |
Thought of an idea like this while thinking what if Will Smith's Hancock went against Superman. | [WP]You are one of thousands who received superpowers, you are the strongest out of all, to entertain yourself you have played the villain and let the less powerful keep you at bay. When real evil comes, you must work together and must convince the others you have been messing around the whole time. | How old was he? Decades seemed small, and centuries felt like bragging. The being sitting in a small police holding cell in... Saskatoon? It had not gone the way he'd planned to, to show off, rile up a hero or two, and then fly away. He had to play by the rules though, no bending reality, no changing the game. It was hard to be able to play that game when you were able to manipulate the fabric of reality. He'd once described it as "seeing the source code" while drunk at a party in the mid-nineties.
Doctor Teckno had been the, rather uninventive, name he had chosen to go with this round. Super smart and able to build anything technologically related. His 'lair' was a fortress, surrounded by a forcefield, and manned by robots. His real name was Erik. He'd had a last name at one point, but he'd long forgotten it. You see, the ability to build anything technological had been his handicap. He was immortal, a border line god, with his appearance a mere hardlight construction around his consciousness, which was contained inside a small sliver of gemstone looking material made from a material found only at the heart of a collapsed neutron star. Or something like that, he had decided anyways.
No, now he sat in the police cell while the hero's held the conference. Soon robots would descend upon the station, free him, and he would fly off, announcing his plan for revenge. Rinse, lather, repeat. As Major Starchild gave a rousing speech about the true strength of the SPD, Erik felt it, a sudden shift in the world. A shift in the aura of the universe. He looked up at the window to the outside world, where he could hear the final words and the cheering crowd. His curiosity got the better of him, and he used the water in the toilet to view the outside world, a simple trick. He saw four black military looking trucks approaching, with a simple logo painted on the side.
AECU.
Another shift in the water showed the people in there, masked soldiers holding AR15 rifles with odd underslung weapons on them. The leader, a cold faced woman, was joined by another man who seemed uninterested in everything around him, a fine tailored suit on both. The vehicles stopped, and Major Starchild, hovering at the end of his speech, turned to look at the new vehicles. The occupants piled out, and the man lit a cigarette, a look that was surely purely for show. The woman pointed to Starchild, and the man waved his hands, and the superhero dropped from the sky. He looked up, confused, and there was no delay, one of the soldiers shot him. Panic ensued, but there was enough time for the robotic minions of Doctor Teckno to arrive and rescue him, carting him off into the night, shielded by the hovering drones.
Abnormal Entity Containment Unit, a paramilitary organization that had promised the Governments of the world what they had wanted, law and order under their own terms. No more heros or villains. Police kept cities safe, not these abominations. Their secret weapon was a pulse that negated the effects of supers, made them no different than others. Highly dangerous ones were simply dispatched, but less dangerous were given a chance to "normalize" to not use their powers and to check in like they were some kind of drug addicts.
The Hall of Justice had once been the meeting point of the greatest heros of Earth, but now it was a burned out shell. Erik, AKA Doctor Teckno stood in the doorway, ignoring the grafiti. The rain the poured around him in the New York evening seemed to fall just short. He ignored the footsteps behind him, whatever it was couldn't truly hurt him. "Come to mock our fall, Doctor?" It was the voice of Constellation Girl, once a super hero that could summon powers based on the astrological sign of the time of the year. Erik didn't turn, but merely shrugged.
"No Margret, I came to see if I could help." | "And you think I'll believe you? After everything you've done?" It's a fair question. The entire nature of our relationship until now has been defined by my making up stories to lead her into insane situations and seemingly impossible odds, all in the name of entertainment. "You killed my husband..."
"Ahh, but I did bring him back, Dr. Frozenstar" I reply. "Yes, it was as a double-agent mind-slave at first, but I did so *knowing* that his inherent goodness and love for you would win through. I'd planned for it."
"Sure, but you made it happen *after* I'd already moved on and remarried! Just to cause more drama! If you could have done that all along, why did you do it when it would hurt me the most?"
"Why do any of us--those like me--do the things we do? Conflict is where you shine your brightest. Conflict is where we see your absolute best."
"How can that justify it? How can that justify any of it? Decades of putting us through the worst threats imaginable. Living one month to the next never knowing if we'd survive. Never knowing if our loved ones would survive. Never knowing if they might be secret betrayers that you'd put in our midst. You tampered with Agent Condor's mind, you made him a fundamentally different person at the core level, and for what?"
"So that he could learn that his zealous nature, if misdirected, might lead him to become that which he hates most." I sigh. "I've done hundreds, maybe thousands of things to all of you just as awful. I don't blame you for your skepticism. Your ability to approach a situation rationally is absolutely what I admire most about you."
"You still haven't answered my first question." She crosses her arms and gives me that look that I know, exactly the one that tells me that she cannot be fooled. And I have no intent to try. "Why should I believe you?"
"I'm not telling you so that you'll believe me. I know that you might never. I know that you probably shouldn't. I'm telling you because you need to know. I'm telling you because you're a doctor, and you'll understand, and you'll be able to explain to the others better than I could."
"Why do you care if I know? Why do you care if they do?"
"Because all this time I've been an ever-present thorn in your sides, you've been a major piece of my life. You may not understand it--who could?--but you're all some of the people I admire most, and as egotistical as this sounds, you're all some of what I'm most proud of." She's looking into my eyes, and I can see that she's angry at herself for believing me. "I'm sorry that this explanation can never be enough. No, that's not right. I'm sorry that you've gone through this. I'm sorry that I *put you*, all of you, through this. This lifetime of turmoil."
"Why did you?"
"Let me... Let me show you something. Something you're never supposed to see. It's something of an unwritten rule, but, who am I if not someone who breaks the rules, right?"
I take her hand, and I show her. I show her the world she has never dreamed of. Her name in print, her face drawn in dramatic shades on newsstands, by dozens of artists over many years. Her earliest iterations in bright, unshaded colors on books that cost 10 cents. Her latest adventures, illustrated with more dynamic lighting and better paper stock. I show her one of my proudest moments, when a young girl approaches me and asks me to sign the cover.
"That's why. And let me tell you, as much as it has hurt me to put you through everything I have, for her and others like her, I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat."
She won't look me in the eyes now. I don't know if she understands--I've seen her thoughts through countless moments before, I've revised the thought bubbles myself, but faced with this, even I can't guess at what goes on her mind. When she speaks again, she doesn't acknowledge what she's seen.
"It's incurable? For sure?"
"There's no cure for growing old, no. And thankfully, no cure for a life well lived."
"What should I tell them?"
"Only the truth. Tell them that their lifelong nemesis, The Author, is finally facing the end of his story." |
Thought of an idea like this while thinking what if Will Smith's Hancock went against Superman. | [WP]You are one of thousands who received superpowers, you are the strongest out of all, to entertain yourself you have played the villain and let the less powerful keep you at bay. When real evil comes, you must work together and must convince the others you have been messing around the whole time. | Poisonous black clouds roiled across the Pacific. Ships from all the world’s navies surrounded “The Site”, as it had become known. The impact of the asteroid had destroyed an island and sent the word into a panic. Astronomers had been on the fence on if it would be a world ending event until two days before it hit. The asteroid did the one thing no one had expected - it slowed. It still hit with the force of a hundred nuclear weapons and rattled windows in Milan and Montreal.
“Ok, guys, looks like that thing is sending some kind of signal now.” Vitreal said as he stared up at the television screen.
Hargin pulled at his restraints. “Damn you Vitreal, what is your fiendish plan now?”
Vitreal turned to look at him. “Darryl, you know you don’t actually have to talk like that, right?”
Hargin glared at Vitreal, his nostrils flaring and his teeth grinding.
“I know you’re a big fan of golden and silver age comics but it gets really annoying. That thing that crashed down is clearly some kind of ship. Who or whatever sent it may not have our best interests in mind. So, let’s put our thing here on hold and go check it out.”
“A likely ruse -“ Hargin started. Vitreal’s eyes began to glow, reminding Hargin of their last battle and how badly he lost. “I mean ... how do I know it’s not a trick?”
“Well, you don’t,” Vitreal said as his eyes cooled to their normal light blue. “But I think deep down inside, way past conscious thought, you know damn good and well that if I decided to kick your ass that there’s nothing you or anyone else could do to stop me. Remember about six months ago when you, Griller, Foster, and Blastex teamed up to take me out? Remember how I was throwing lightning and tossing mountains at the end of it?”
Hargin nodded.
“Ever wonder why you never saw me do those things before or since?”
“... A little,” Hargin admitted.
“Turns out the four you were a decent match up for me. Now, I’m gonna let you in on a little secret, Darryl. I’ve been mugging.”
Hargin stares at Vitreal.
“Ok, not the reaction I was expecting. Well, you never were an A student, were you? I’ve been pretending. Play acting. Faking it. All those, what do you call them, ‘nefarious schemes’? Yeah, fake. How many people have I killed?”
“None, foul be- I mean, none. But only because I and the Legion of Heroes have been there to stop you!”
“Darryl, you’re more of a ‘stop a 14-year-old from knocking over 7-11’ kind of hero. Not a ‘fight intergalactic terror’ hero.”
Hargin sagged in his restraints. “You’re right,” he so quietly that even Vitreal had to listen carefully.
“See, it’s no fun being the good guy unless you have a bad guy. And let me tell you from personal experience it’s also no fun knowing that you’re strong enough to face any challenger. Ever play a video game with god mode? Yeah, gets kind of boring after a bit, doesn’t it? That’s what my life is like. So I make up little challenges for myself. What if I had super hearing but was blind?”
“Miami, two years ago. You said it was because of Radiance’s Photon Blast.”
“Hehehe, no. I also did a ‘what if I could only use telepathy but was physically broken?’.”
“Reno, four years ago. What was it you said?”
“Griller’s Rampage. I said it was Griller’s Rampage that had done me in. God, you guys always give your attacks such stupid names. Do you, like, have them copyrighted or something?”
“No, but our marketing people -“
“Marketing people?! Hahaha! Oh man, you’re worse off than I thought. Look, I’ve gotta go kick the shit out of some aliens so I don’t have time to play dress up any more.” With a flick of his hands, Vitreal tore the manacles holding Hargin in place. “There’s a phone downstairs. Help yourself to the kitchen. Don’t let the cat out of the front door.”
Hargin looked up at Vitreal from the floor. “Why?”
“Well because he’s a cat. They run off and even with superpowers ...”
“No, I mean why go through all this? Are we just toys to you?”
Vitreal knelt down to look Hargin in the eyes. “No, Darryl. Far from it. When I first gained my powers, I thought of all the good I could do. Then I began to question myself. It wasn’t long before I realized that I could impose my will on others. Everyone. I could make people do what I thought was right. I would become a tyrant. If I could do that, surely there would be others who could do that. Eventually, one of them would try. World domination. Not for any evil purpose but because they thought it was right. So, to save the world, I became the bad guy. As long as the rest of you were busy fighting me, the rest of the word was free to live their lives as they chose. Right or wrong, it would be their choice. I preserved freedom by standing up as the villain. Only, now there’s another threat. I’m off to save the world again, as a hero this time.
But I’m serious about the cat.” | "You must believe me guys!" screamed the Evil Dr. Evil at his screen "I was just messing with you! I'm not evil, just decided that I should spice things up!"
On the other side there was Archangel, the golden-winged hero, doubting his remarks.
"So, you are trying to tell us that everything that you have done was just an act of boredom? You impress me Evil Dr. Evil, you have become even madder than before"
"I'm not lying! This... thing is more powerful than me! It is more powerful than all of you!" said The Evil Dr. Evil before letting out a shout of frustration "Ugh, haven't you noticed that every single one of my plans is something that a cartoon villain would do?!"
"Ok, let's suppose I believe you for a moment. Now, tell me how destroying the crops of every single farmer in the west, causing a food crisis which lead to an outbreak in the whole country, causing the president's death, could be considered a joke?" Said Archangel while digging around a drawer full of files, all related to the Evil Dr. Evil doings.
"Don't you remember what the original plan used to be? I was just trying to tax the sun! Who would have guessed that those plants wouldn't resist without light for, like 3 months!"
"We all did. The government did. The news did. That's why we paid you, don't you remember? You stabbed our backs and left your machine in the sky until we were capable of destroying it"
"I didn't think you would actually agree to pay! It was literally impossible for me to do it, for god's sake!"
"You didn't think of putting an off switch? It is obvious your superpower isn't enhanced intelligence. At moments like this I wonder how we haven't been able to defeat you"
Now punching the wall in frustration, the Evil Dr. Evil responded:
"Ok, I'll admit I screwed up, but it was only one time!"
"It wasn't." Archangel said while looking at the files "Causing a solar flame which killed 43% of China's population"
"I was trying to burn the sun!" Interrupted the Evil Dr. Evil "It just got a bit off-hand."
"Feeding 17 Princesses to an elder god"
"I just kidnapped them! I thought it would protect them from you heroes!"
"Killing... killing Great Eros" said the hero while looking away.
"It was figurately! I wanted to steal the love, but it is harder than you think, you know? It isn't my fault she had such a convenient name! Hell, she jumped into that volcano by herself! She wasn't even being cont-"
Interrupting the Evil Dr. Evil, Archangel shouted at the camera:
"She did it to protect us! She knew that now that she was under your influence she could kill us all when we least expected it!"
"But I wasn't gonna do it!" said the villain moving his hands around.
"You sick bastard" said Archangel ready to attack the screen "I am done talking to you"
Now the screen was black. He had disconnected.
The Evil Dr. Evil was frustrated, but not surprised. As his engineer bodies prepared his monster, he sat down and concentrated in another place.
Meanwhile, Archangel was meeting with the other heroes when the topic of the Evil Dr. Evil appeared.
"Our reports show that he called you this morning, Archangel" said The Eye with concern "Any explanation?"
"Nothing important. The madman tried to make me believe he was good all along! Can you believe it? He has reached a point of stupidity we didn't anticipated".
Laughter endorsed, but on the corner of the table Parakeet asked shyly:
"...But what if he was telling the truth?"
"Nonsense! You should only read his file to know it! Wasn't your family affected when he attacked the farmers?"
At this point every single person in the room shouted:
"I told you I was trying to tax the sun!"
Surprised, Archangel tried to fly away, only to be stopped by his fellow heroes
"You bastard! Is every single one of them is under your control?!"
"Well, kinda" said the crowd in unison "Jeff isn't, but I gave him the day off"
"I knew I shouldn't believe your lies! You have no dignity!"
"Wait a second: First I wasn't lying, I am just doing this for fun. It is easier to create situations when you can control every aspect of the story. Second, what would the point of a hive-mind be if I didn't controlled people? I would just have the power of mind, without hive!"
"Now you are going to assimilate me, bastard! You will never defeat-"
Interrupting him, the Evil Dr. Evil said:
"Wait, what? Of course, I won't do it! You are the wild card, if I did it, the fun would end! I will just knock you out for a couple weeks and delete your memories using The Eye's powers, like every other time you have found out. Sleep well, Archangel!"
Before the hero could react, he was struck down by the Evil Dr. Evil, who took him away to the cryostasis chamber.
"Aww man, I just wanted one of those cool crossover episodes" -said the villain with visible frustration- "Now I must create another world threatening menace... Oh well, next time it will work for sure!"
*New at this, criticism apreciated!* |
Thought of an idea like this while thinking what if Will Smith's Hancock went against Superman. | [WP]You are one of thousands who received superpowers, you are the strongest out of all, to entertain yourself you have played the villain and let the less powerful keep you at bay. When real evil comes, you must work together and must convince the others you have been messing around the whole time. | Poisonous black clouds roiled across the Pacific. Ships from all the world’s navies surrounded “The Site”, as it had become known. The impact of the asteroid had destroyed an island and sent the word into a panic. Astronomers had been on the fence on if it would be a world ending event until two days before it hit. The asteroid did the one thing no one had expected - it slowed. It still hit with the force of a hundred nuclear weapons and rattled windows in Milan and Montreal.
“Ok, guys, looks like that thing is sending some kind of signal now.” Vitreal said as he stared up at the television screen.
Hargin pulled at his restraints. “Damn you Vitreal, what is your fiendish plan now?”
Vitreal turned to look at him. “Darryl, you know you don’t actually have to talk like that, right?”
Hargin glared at Vitreal, his nostrils flaring and his teeth grinding.
“I know you’re a big fan of golden and silver age comics but it gets really annoying. That thing that crashed down is clearly some kind of ship. Who or whatever sent it may not have our best interests in mind. So, let’s put our thing here on hold and go check it out.”
“A likely ruse -“ Hargin started. Vitreal’s eyes began to glow, reminding Hargin of their last battle and how badly he lost. “I mean ... how do I know it’s not a trick?”
“Well, you don’t,” Vitreal said as his eyes cooled to their normal light blue. “But I think deep down inside, way past conscious thought, you know damn good and well that if I decided to kick your ass that there’s nothing you or anyone else could do to stop me. Remember about six months ago when you, Griller, Foster, and Blastex teamed up to take me out? Remember how I was throwing lightning and tossing mountains at the end of it?”
Hargin nodded.
“Ever wonder why you never saw me do those things before or since?”
“... A little,” Hargin admitted.
“Turns out the four you were a decent match up for me. Now, I’m gonna let you in on a little secret, Darryl. I’ve been mugging.”
Hargin stares at Vitreal.
“Ok, not the reaction I was expecting. Well, you never were an A student, were you? I’ve been pretending. Play acting. Faking it. All those, what do you call them, ‘nefarious schemes’? Yeah, fake. How many people have I killed?”
“None, foul be- I mean, none. But only because I and the Legion of Heroes have been there to stop you!”
“Darryl, you’re more of a ‘stop a 14-year-old from knocking over 7-11’ kind of hero. Not a ‘fight intergalactic terror’ hero.”
Hargin sagged in his restraints. “You’re right,” he so quietly that even Vitreal had to listen carefully.
“See, it’s no fun being the good guy unless you have a bad guy. And let me tell you from personal experience it’s also no fun knowing that you’re strong enough to face any challenger. Ever play a video game with god mode? Yeah, gets kind of boring after a bit, doesn’t it? That’s what my life is like. So I make up little challenges for myself. What if I had super hearing but was blind?”
“Miami, two years ago. You said it was because of Radiance’s Photon Blast.”
“Hehehe, no. I also did a ‘what if I could only use telepathy but was physically broken?’.”
“Reno, four years ago. What was it you said?”
“Griller’s Rampage. I said it was Griller’s Rampage that had done me in. God, you guys always give your attacks such stupid names. Do you, like, have them copyrighted or something?”
“No, but our marketing people -“
“Marketing people?! Hahaha! Oh man, you’re worse off than I thought. Look, I’ve gotta go kick the shit out of some aliens so I don’t have time to play dress up any more.” With a flick of his hands, Vitreal tore the manacles holding Hargin in place. “There’s a phone downstairs. Help yourself to the kitchen. Don’t let the cat out of the front door.”
Hargin looked up at Vitreal from the floor. “Why?”
“Well because he’s a cat. They run off and even with superpowers ...”
“No, I mean why go through all this? Are we just toys to you?”
Vitreal knelt down to look Hargin in the eyes. “No, Darryl. Far from it. When I first gained my powers, I thought of all the good I could do. Then I began to question myself. It wasn’t long before I realized that I could impose my will on others. Everyone. I could make people do what I thought was right. I would become a tyrant. If I could do that, surely there would be others who could do that. Eventually, one of them would try. World domination. Not for any evil purpose but because they thought it was right. So, to save the world, I became the bad guy. As long as the rest of you were busy fighting me, the rest of the word was free to live their lives as they chose. Right or wrong, it would be their choice. I preserved freedom by standing up as the villain. Only, now there’s another threat. I’m off to save the world again, as a hero this time.
But I’m serious about the cat.” | The muscles in Maverick's legs bulged so hard his jeans exploded - leaving him in hot pants.
He leapt high and with earth-shattering force slammed into the ground next to the enemy, and swung.
His fist collided with the enemy's cheek, who recoiled from the impact.
Well, it sorta looked that way.
Had he taken the punch head on, Maverick's self-confidence wouldn't have been the only thing shattered.
Bart synthesized some blood in his mouth, just another power, and spat it at the ground, staggering.
Maverick held up his fist threateningly, "This ends now, Count Bartholomew."
Bart sighed internally. Ah, there's that name again. Bart just wasn't good enough for the media.
The magazines had run with it and before he knew, it had stuck.
Count Bartholomew coughed.
Hey, hey, hey. Just Bart, okay? You're not getting away with that. I'm hearing this.
Omniscience. Yeah, the list of powers was lengthy.
Just call me Bart or I'm taking over and narrating this myself.
....*Bart* coughed, or mimicked a cough as well as he could - it had been a while, "Curses, Maverick." yelled Bart, making an exaggerated gesture, "And all of you of the Hero Squad!"
What? Exaggerated? I'm just giving them what they want. They want sneering and finger pointing.
Y'know what? Move over. You suck at this. I'll tell it like it is.
Dashingly handsome Bart recovered gracefully, only suffering a minor bruise.
His black hair literal perfection. His graceful smile illuminating the poorly lit warehouse.
His delicious tors--- Hey, hey. Bart dodged a swing from Maverick, the force causing a nearby wall to explode.
He leapt backwards onto some high metal shelves, barely dodging the bullets shot by Sheriff Daisy.
He then -- Hold on, whoops. He.. Dammit. Ah! That's my nose! Jerk. He th--
Take over will you?
Overwhelmed and out-of-breath, Bart left narration to the professionals.
So that he himself could focus on the fight, *that had just barely begun*.
Almost on command, the dust brought afloat by the destroyed wall settled, and a squadron of heroes stepped forward to join Maverick and Daisy.
Muscle-bulging physical types, scantily-clad women, and some kid-prodigy called Kevin.
The lengths some of these heroes would go for stylepoints.
Speedster Jessica, running at the speed of sound - on high heels.
A battle with Jessica is like fighting an angry rattle, heels ticking against the pavement on every step.
You'd wonder how those heels manage to last. Well, they don't.
If she wasn't sponsored by a local shoe store, she'd probably be forced to go bare-foot.
Muscle hero Maverick with his love for skin-tight clothing, despite his muscle-pumping power.
Sheriff Daisy who could shoot projectiles from anywhere on her body, but insisted on using finger-guns.
Apparently you can only fire so many bullets from your nostrils before people start to make fun of you.
You could tell her to turn her nose up at that kind of behaviour, but this just made people raise their hands and surrender.
And Kevin, with his ... well, nobody really knew what Kevin did.
He just seemed to always be there when things went *right*.
Monster around? Kevin around? Monster beaten? There you have it.
Like a dance group with perfect choreography, the heroes approached Count Bartho - Hey! - *Bart*.
A perfect circle, nowhere to go. Every escape route cut off.
Bart thought long and hard.
It was the kind of heavy thinking you're forced to do when you're tallying up the lies and attempt to keep your story straight.
Do they know about the flying power? The water one? The magnificent moleman power?
Faced with uncertainty and doubt, he decided on an old villain favourite.
He dashed towards the edge of the circle, ran straight at one of the heroes, and pushed over Kevin.
Then ran away.
"Nehehhehe!" sneered Bart loudly, fighting down the crippling embarrassment of having *Nehehehe'd*.
"He's getting away!" shouted Maverick.
"I'm getting away!" confirmed Bart.
Bart ran as fast as he thought a middle-aged villain would run and ran that exact speed.
I mean, bolting for it at light speed would kind of put a damper on things.
He even faked a "Oh, god. Why do I never go to the gym? I even have a membership" - wheeze while he ran.
A scream came from behind and Bart froze, it was the unmistakable scream of Speedster Jessica.
He had heard it once before, back when she turned an expensive pair of designer heels into fancy lines on the pavement.
She became the hero of crayon-wielding kids everywhere.
Bart looked over his shoulder to see Kevin wring the life out of Maverick.
Monster around? Kevin around? Monster beaten? There you have it.
"I've been plotting, planning, scheming." said Kevin with a voice like an angry parakeet, "My creations have failed me, but I'll dabble in those experiments no more."
Kevin behaved in the way a preschooler would think a villain should behave.
He only missed a few henchman and some angry muttering of "You fools!".
Who's gonna take a villain like this seriously?
Kevin tossed aside the lifeless collection of muscles that once went by the name of Maverick.
Well, maybe Bart could make an effort to try.
He jogged back towards the circle of heroes, "Heya, fellas." he tried, "Just letting you know that I've been escaping and I just wanted to sorta let you know."
Kevin's eyes landed on Bart, "You," he tweeted, "I'll dispose of you first."
Bart snorted, then coughed, "Oh no!" he cried.
The heroes rallied around Bart.
"Please find safe cover, *citizen*" said Sheriff Daisy, "Leave this to the pros."
Bart felt a foreign feeling of warmth creep over him, an odd sense of acceptance.
"Beat it, loser." added Jessica.
The feeling retreated into a level of non-existence so severe, it shouldn't exist, and puzzled philosophers for decades to come.
His mind sought for a retort, found nothing, and settled on mimicking Jessica's voice in a high tone, "*'Beat it loser'*."
Kevin waved a hand and a sprouting pillar of earth introduced Speedster Jessica to high-speed in a new direction. up.
Today had proven very educational for Jessica for after hitting the ceiling of the warehouse, she also learned about *down*.
Bart watched Jessica writhe in pain while he contemplated if he should do something or not.
A massive stone pillar shot out of the ground towards him, missing him by an inch after a timely save by Sheriff Daisy.
She quickly got to her feet and pumped her left arm like a shotgun, "Go! Quickly!" she said, firing several shots from her fist at the Kevin.
A stone wall effortlessly put itself between the hail of pellets and Kevin.
She took a boxing pose and executed a clean 1-2, large projectiles emitting from her fists on every thrust.
Kevin held up his hands and shards of earth collided with the projectiles in mid-air, causing minor explosions.
She jumped and spun in the air, executing some complicated spin-kick movement.
Or she would've, if a large pillar of earth hadn't introduced her to the floor.
"Dang." commented Bart.
Nearby Jessica wheezed, "Count Bartholomew," she coughed, "You need to.."
Bart rolled his eyes and read her mind, informing him that she wanted him to report to the hero bureau, to ask for assistance.
Who really has time for lengthy death rattles?
"Well, I could," began Bart, "But, y'know, I could also try..."
"No," croaked Jessica, "You don't stand a chance."
"How generic is this," said Bart, "The writer is a lazy piece of shit, but I'll forgive him because it's 1AM and he has to work tomorrow."
Bart put his hands into the pockets of his jeans and approached Kevin.
"You human then?" asked Bart.
Kevin cackled, a sound which closely resembled the death throes of a choking pidgeon, "You fool!"
"Hey, there it is." said Bart.
The preschooler raised an eyebrow, "My kind has controlled yours from the shadows for millennia. I am the puppet master, the controller, I.. "
Bart snapped his fingers and Kevin ceased to exist.
|
Thought of an idea like this while thinking what if Will Smith's Hancock went against Superman. | [WP]You are one of thousands who received superpowers, you are the strongest out of all, to entertain yourself you have played the villain and let the less powerful keep you at bay. When real evil comes, you must work together and must convince the others you have been messing around the whole time. | "It's just a really bad storm," replied The Do-Gooder, adjusting his over-sized utility belt.
"A bad storm? With no clouds in the sky? Don't be stupid. I told you, I can sense a strong power entering the city. This being has the ability to manipulate the elements and it is coming here to free me."
Animal Boy was looking at both of us, his tail changing to that of a mouse. "I don't know, DG, I think she is telling the truth. Maybe we should just let her go..."
DG scoffed and landed a heavy hand on his sidekick's shoulder. "That's what Mysteriosa wants you to do. We release her from those chains and then--" the building shook, dimming the lights before the generators kicked on, "then she escapes to destroy the city once more. No, Animal Boy, she will stay here in this cell forever. We can investigate this ourselves. If we were able to trap Mysteriosa, then this being stands no chance against us!"
I was at a loss. Maintain my solitude and allow the city to be destroyed. Or reveal myself, losing everything I'd work so hard to obtain, just so that I could be a hero once more. DG and AB argued amongst themselves as I allowed my mind to travel over the city. It moved in dark shadows, but I could make out the shape of a dark red beating heart moving ever closer. It called to me as it floated over the mountains to the west and I could feel the darkness of it covering the skies.
DG tightened the shackles that bound my wrists and ankles. "No, she stays. Come, let us confront this being once and for all!"
I glanced about my little cell for the last time. It had been worth it to allow myself to be captured. Seeing everything as I did, being able to manipulate time and energy: it had been as gratifying as it had been exhausting. The fame, the attention, the booming sound of all of their thoughts constantly ringing in my ears. It had been too much. Asking to be left alone had drawn the cameras and flashing lights closer. The reporters had followed me everywhere. Until I became a villain. I set fire to a few cars and exploded a bank vault. Minor incidents with no true victims. I didn't even take any money. It would have been just arson, really, and yet they began to distance themselves. They feared me and left me alone. But then it became an issue of "Mysteriosa sightings" and moronic superheroes trying to bring me down. DG and AB were the ones who happened to show up when I had had enough. I allowed myself to be captured and they promised to hide me away in the deepest, darkest vault. Alone. Pure bliss.
But now this. The darkness was enveloping the edges of the western suburbs, the skies black as if it were night. Animal Boy was attempting to call the guards to open the cell, but the phone on the wall wasn't working. DG banged on the cell door, calling out for the guards.
The shackles melted away, falling into a pile of dust on the floor. Animal Boy was the first one to notice me dusting away my clothes and he transformed into a mouse, skittering to the other side of the cell.
"This cell is 100 floors below ground. They aren't going to hear you." The Do-Gooder jumped back, his hand going for his utility belt. A flick of the wrist and it too melted away. His hands went to his waist to keep his pants up. It would have been comical under other circumstances.
The bars opened and we began soaring up the shaft. The elevator was stuck at the top but it moved out of the way as we neared it. Animal Boy changed into a squirrel and hid himself under the cape of DG.
"What on Earth? How is this-- we defeated you!"
DG was apoplectic, his face red and eyes wide. Poor guy. "Hmm? Oh, yes, that," I opened the doors of the main floor and we flew through the lobby to the front door. "Well, you did, but I allowed you to. I needed the break."
His stammering faded away as we considered the darkness overcoming the city. "Listen, I really must run. Thank you for--" I struggled to find the words. "Just...thanks."
Another booming sound and I was standing in the heart of the storm, alone. We stood in what remained of the city hall plaza but it was being reduced to rubble. I could feel the being within reach and its laugh filled the air before it settled before me.
"Mysteriosa! You've ruined my plans!"
I stared at the being as it transformed from a dark cloud into the face that I knew so well. It was like looking into a mirror. "Hello sister."
-------------
Edit: Thanks for the comments! Just posted Part 2 below... | The muscles in Maverick's legs bulged so hard his jeans exploded - leaving him in hot pants.
He leapt high and with earth-shattering force slammed into the ground next to the enemy, and swung.
His fist collided with the enemy's cheek, who recoiled from the impact.
Well, it sorta looked that way.
Had he taken the punch head on, Maverick's self-confidence wouldn't have been the only thing shattered.
Bart synthesized some blood in his mouth, just another power, and spat it at the ground, staggering.
Maverick held up his fist threateningly, "This ends now, Count Bartholomew."
Bart sighed internally. Ah, there's that name again. Bart just wasn't good enough for the media.
The magazines had run with it and before he knew, it had stuck.
Count Bartholomew coughed.
Hey, hey, hey. Just Bart, okay? You're not getting away with that. I'm hearing this.
Omniscience. Yeah, the list of powers was lengthy.
Just call me Bart or I'm taking over and narrating this myself.
....*Bart* coughed, or mimicked a cough as well as he could - it had been a while, "Curses, Maverick." yelled Bart, making an exaggerated gesture, "And all of you of the Hero Squad!"
What? Exaggerated? I'm just giving them what they want. They want sneering and finger pointing.
Y'know what? Move over. You suck at this. I'll tell it like it is.
Dashingly handsome Bart recovered gracefully, only suffering a minor bruise.
His black hair literal perfection. His graceful smile illuminating the poorly lit warehouse.
His delicious tors--- Hey, hey. Bart dodged a swing from Maverick, the force causing a nearby wall to explode.
He leapt backwards onto some high metal shelves, barely dodging the bullets shot by Sheriff Daisy.
He then -- Hold on, whoops. He.. Dammit. Ah! That's my nose! Jerk. He th--
Take over will you?
Overwhelmed and out-of-breath, Bart left narration to the professionals.
So that he himself could focus on the fight, *that had just barely begun*.
Almost on command, the dust brought afloat by the destroyed wall settled, and a squadron of heroes stepped forward to join Maverick and Daisy.
Muscle-bulging physical types, scantily-clad women, and some kid-prodigy called Kevin.
The lengths some of these heroes would go for stylepoints.
Speedster Jessica, running at the speed of sound - on high heels.
A battle with Jessica is like fighting an angry rattle, heels ticking against the pavement on every step.
You'd wonder how those heels manage to last. Well, they don't.
If she wasn't sponsored by a local shoe store, she'd probably be forced to go bare-foot.
Muscle hero Maverick with his love for skin-tight clothing, despite his muscle-pumping power.
Sheriff Daisy who could shoot projectiles from anywhere on her body, but insisted on using finger-guns.
Apparently you can only fire so many bullets from your nostrils before people start to make fun of you.
You could tell her to turn her nose up at that kind of behaviour, but this just made people raise their hands and surrender.
And Kevin, with his ... well, nobody really knew what Kevin did.
He just seemed to always be there when things went *right*.
Monster around? Kevin around? Monster beaten? There you have it.
Like a dance group with perfect choreography, the heroes approached Count Bartho - Hey! - *Bart*.
A perfect circle, nowhere to go. Every escape route cut off.
Bart thought long and hard.
It was the kind of heavy thinking you're forced to do when you're tallying up the lies and attempt to keep your story straight.
Do they know about the flying power? The water one? The magnificent moleman power?
Faced with uncertainty and doubt, he decided on an old villain favourite.
He dashed towards the edge of the circle, ran straight at one of the heroes, and pushed over Kevin.
Then ran away.
"Nehehhehe!" sneered Bart loudly, fighting down the crippling embarrassment of having *Nehehehe'd*.
"He's getting away!" shouted Maverick.
"I'm getting away!" confirmed Bart.
Bart ran as fast as he thought a middle-aged villain would run and ran that exact speed.
I mean, bolting for it at light speed would kind of put a damper on things.
He even faked a "Oh, god. Why do I never go to the gym? I even have a membership" - wheeze while he ran.
A scream came from behind and Bart froze, it was the unmistakable scream of Speedster Jessica.
He had heard it once before, back when she turned an expensive pair of designer heels into fancy lines on the pavement.
She became the hero of crayon-wielding kids everywhere.
Bart looked over his shoulder to see Kevin wring the life out of Maverick.
Monster around? Kevin around? Monster beaten? There you have it.
"I've been plotting, planning, scheming." said Kevin with a voice like an angry parakeet, "My creations have failed me, but I'll dabble in those experiments no more."
Kevin behaved in the way a preschooler would think a villain should behave.
He only missed a few henchman and some angry muttering of "You fools!".
Who's gonna take a villain like this seriously?
Kevin tossed aside the lifeless collection of muscles that once went by the name of Maverick.
Well, maybe Bart could make an effort to try.
He jogged back towards the circle of heroes, "Heya, fellas." he tried, "Just letting you know that I've been escaping and I just wanted to sorta let you know."
Kevin's eyes landed on Bart, "You," he tweeted, "I'll dispose of you first."
Bart snorted, then coughed, "Oh no!" he cried.
The heroes rallied around Bart.
"Please find safe cover, *citizen*" said Sheriff Daisy, "Leave this to the pros."
Bart felt a foreign feeling of warmth creep over him, an odd sense of acceptance.
"Beat it, loser." added Jessica.
The feeling retreated into a level of non-existence so severe, it shouldn't exist, and puzzled philosophers for decades to come.
His mind sought for a retort, found nothing, and settled on mimicking Jessica's voice in a high tone, "*'Beat it loser'*."
Kevin waved a hand and a sprouting pillar of earth introduced Speedster Jessica to high-speed in a new direction. up.
Today had proven very educational for Jessica for after hitting the ceiling of the warehouse, she also learned about *down*.
Bart watched Jessica writhe in pain while he contemplated if he should do something or not.
A massive stone pillar shot out of the ground towards him, missing him by an inch after a timely save by Sheriff Daisy.
She quickly got to her feet and pumped her left arm like a shotgun, "Go! Quickly!" she said, firing several shots from her fist at the Kevin.
A stone wall effortlessly put itself between the hail of pellets and Kevin.
She took a boxing pose and executed a clean 1-2, large projectiles emitting from her fists on every thrust.
Kevin held up his hands and shards of earth collided with the projectiles in mid-air, causing minor explosions.
She jumped and spun in the air, executing some complicated spin-kick movement.
Or she would've, if a large pillar of earth hadn't introduced her to the floor.
"Dang." commented Bart.
Nearby Jessica wheezed, "Count Bartholomew," she coughed, "You need to.."
Bart rolled his eyes and read her mind, informing him that she wanted him to report to the hero bureau, to ask for assistance.
Who really has time for lengthy death rattles?
"Well, I could," began Bart, "But, y'know, I could also try..."
"No," croaked Jessica, "You don't stand a chance."
"How generic is this," said Bart, "The writer is a lazy piece of shit, but I'll forgive him because it's 1AM and he has to work tomorrow."
Bart put his hands into the pockets of his jeans and approached Kevin.
"You human then?" asked Bart.
Kevin cackled, a sound which closely resembled the death throes of a choking pidgeon, "You fool!"
"Hey, there it is." said Bart.
The preschooler raised an eyebrow, "My kind has controlled yours from the shadows for millennia. I am the puppet master, the controller, I.. "
Bart snapped his fingers and Kevin ceased to exist.
|
[WP] Humanity has managed to catch an alien signal but all they end up hearing are the transmissions from a chaotic space battle. | "We recorded about fifty hours of audio."
"Fifty *hours?*"
"Yes, sir. It... appears to be a transmission line from a command craft in a very large battle fleet. During a major action."
"Anything from the other side?"
"Yes, actually. We analyzed that too. The sample we played was from the side which appears to have been on the defensive during this battle. From what we can tell, their enemies dropped *right in front of them* with a fleet roughly equal to their own. Timing was uncertain beforehand so it took them by surprise."
"How many ships involved?"
"Hard to be certain. There's a lot of data in here, sir. But estimates are consistently upwards of three hundred thousand. On each side. Not including fighters, which appear to be manned."
"Manned? They don't use drones?"
"No, doesn't appear so. Maybe they had a problem with drones getting hacked or something. Maybe they... I don't know."
"Three hundred thousand ships." The admiral whistled.
"Probably more. One side lost... from what we can tell, half of all capital ships."
"Damn. They lost, of course?"
"Of course. The attackers only lost ten percent. There's something else."
"Yes?"
"Based on what appears to be a classification number for the defending fleet, this isn't actually that significant of a loss for these people. They must have *tremendous* resources and population."
"See that this doesn't leak, *ever,*" the admiral said, sitting down in shock. | > "Jacob. You *are* the father."
Tinny gasps and "Ohh's" accompanied the shocked look on Jacob's face, right before Carrie flew into frame and started wailing on him like a crazy person. A chant of "Maury, Maury, Maury" started up as security guards broke the two up.
Eric, half watching, half asleep, chuckled. He loved this garbage, Dr. Stevens be damned.
The camera cut back to an ostensibly distraught Maury Povich just shaking his head like a disappointed father.
> "Let's take a quick break."
Cut to a commercial for toilet paper with those cute bears who use toilets, *just like us.*
Eric muted the small cathode-ray tube TV. It was a 6 inch diagonal screen, and the only piece of outside electronics Dr. Stevens would allow within the facility. Even that had taken the whole damn staff filing a complaint.
Across from the once plush office chair Eric sat in a series of screens depicted several waveforms. There was the ever present Universal Background Radiation - that old familiar smoking gun leftover from the big bang. Then there was all the noise the sun was making - a loud mother fucker the sun. And then, not much of anything.
Most of the waveforms never moved much at all. When they did, it was almost invariably some well known phenomenon or another. Eric could identify the landscape of the universe by waveform pattern alone. Here was a white dwarf, there a gas giant, now a quasar.
But finding these things wasn't the point. Eric's job, the purpose of the entire installation, was to listen for the sounds of intelligent life. So far, year 63 of the project, they'd heard precesely fuck all.
Eric took a hard sip of his arnold palmer. "Hm mm, thank you Arnold." Countryside and Liptons. Extra sugar.
Maury came back on the TV. Eric reached forward for the remote and accidentally nudged it off the edge of the console. He bent over to pick it up and brushed up against primary tuning dial, moving it an eight of a degree to the right along the horizontal plane.
"Shit." Eric abandoned the remote and sat up straight. An eighth of a degree shift in the position of the receiving dishes was the equivalent of hundreds of thousands of parsecs. Generally the dishes scanned at a rate of 1/1000th of a degree per hour.
"Shit shit, Goddamn it." Eric started to panic. If he couldn't recalibrate to the previous position, exactly, he would definitely be fired. But he had forgotten to update the paper log hourly, so he wasn't sure where the dishes were supposed to point.
He was about to eyeball the dial backward when he saw several of the waveforms begin to fluctuate. The signals started normal enough - a consistent sin wave fluctuation indicative of a red dwarf star. But as the disks settled into their final position, each waveform took on a chaotic and changing structure.
"What the fuck?" Eric gaped at them, wide eyed and confused. After 20 seconds, he had the wherewithall to begin recording. Then, hands shaking like butterfly wings, he leaned forward and pressed the audio feed button on one of the most powerful signals.
Chaos spilled out of the main speakers and into the room. A cacophany of sounds, none of them familiar in the least, and changing at random time intervals. Some overlapped, were cut short, began of a sudden only to warp and morph explosively and dissipate to nothing. Eric could understand none of it.
A particularly loud, prolonged noise came, cresendoed, and cut off suddenly, and Eric heard in the noise something unmistakable, but hard to define in a way that didn't scare the hell of out him. He heard pain.
Eric couldn't stop his shaking. Quickly, as though it were the door to a haunted basement, he leaned forward and muted the feed. The waveforms continued their violent dance as Eric called Dr. Stevens. On the muted TV Maury looked on helplessly as another batch of human parents threw a tantrum.
# /r/LFTM
| |
[WP] A black widow has moved on to her latest victim, an incredibly gullible rich man that's fallen head-over-heels for her and has gotten into his will. The catch? The man is totally unkillable, and wonders why he seems to be so accident prone and his fiancé seems to be so frustrated recently. | I'm going to die on my fortieth birthday. On my way home from work, I'm going to get pushed off of the sidewalk and into the path of an oncoming bus. I will die two hours later in the hospital after several unsuccessful attempts to stabilize me. It will be painful, brutal, and final.
But I'm only twenty-five now. I have fifteen more years left. Sometimes I think about my impending death, but usually it's better to just put it out of my mind and keep living. After all, that's all I can do: live.
"Shit!" I hold up my hand to inspect it. No serious burns this time, thankfully. I was right to just grab that firework at least, the internal components failed and it just plain didn't ignite. A little bit of heat on my hand had saved the barbecue.
I look over to the crowd and wave at them with my free hand. "Sorry about that, my bad!" They don't need to know that I did it on purpose. Especially not my darling fiance, standing over there next to my father. She looks so gorgeous, even at something like this. She didn't even mind that I was so eager to get engaged and married! How did I get so lucky?
I drop the firework into the water bucket nearby before heading over to the picnic table to get into the first aid kit. Even if these things can't kill me, they can still be painful. That's one unfortunate side-effect to this whole 'destiny' thing: I'm destined to be at that sidewalk corner in fifteen years, but my body's condition when I get there isn't guaranteed. I have to take care of myself just like everyone else.
My darling fiance is right there with me, ready to help me bandage up my hand. "That was lucky," she says as she looks over my hand, "You could have been seriously hurt."
"Well, you know me," I say with a smile, "Luck's my middle name."
My fiance mutters something under her breath, but I don't quite catch it. It's probably another bit of scolding. She always looks so sour whenever something like this happens. It's probably the worry talking, nobody likes seeing the love of their life hurt like this. But I can't exactly explain to her why these 'accidents' keep happening. Who would be able to take that? Knowing that I'm to die when I'm forty would be a lot, but the fact that I purposefully put myself in harm's way to protect her because I know I won't die from whatever will happen? The guilt would eat her alive, I'm sure of it.
No, it's best that she doesn't know. We're getting married in the spring, and we'll have fourteen years of wedded bliss before I die. God, I hope she can look beyond these 'accidents' and stay with me. I love her so much. | I broke my finger last week. My right index. I jumped out of the way of a falling piano. The bench hit my hand and broke my pointer in two places. My wife seemed overly dramatic about the ordeal. She had screamed profanities in her mother tounge at the moving men. I didn't understand a word. I hadn't ever seen her like that the whole six months we've known each other. We got married the night we met. I never left paradise. She was a goddess among pheasants. I was troll among men. I felt like the luckiest man alive. I gave her anything she wanted. A puppy? All yours. Your own apartment? Here are the keys. A new piano? Of course anything at all. Of course the puppy turned out rabid, nearly bit me, the apartment caught fire while I spent the night she had gone to her favorite club in my favorite dress. I barely escaped with my life. Each time my wife had come home she seemed tense. Now sitting next to me, my finger is broken and she is furious. I guess a woman can't handle it when her soulmate gets injured. We are on a small boat with a private captain. She wanted to go on vacation. Something exotic and savage she said. I said why not the middle of the ocean. She loved the idea so much I stopped to buy scuba gear right then...................? Is there more?????? | |
[WP] You receive a text message from someone you know that reads, "Help me," with a timestamp of 9:00 PM. It is currently 8:15 PM. | Jenna heard the muffled sound of her phone buzzing from her purse. She pulled her arm away from Mark’s touch, thankful for the excuse.
“Sorry, I need to check that,” she said as she reached for her bag. She knew it was rude to text during a date but felt no guilt about making an exception in this case.
Her heart began to race as the words “Help me” loomed on the phone screen. It was from her friend Libby. Her fingers trembled as she typed her reply: *What’s wrong?*
It felt like forever that the words indicating that Libby was typing a response continued to flash on the screen. She glanced up at Mark, sitting across from her. His stare was unsettling. She realized it was one of few times in the evening she’d caught him looking into her eyes rather than at some other part of her. She quickly returned her attention to the phone in her hands. Libby’s response finally appeared: *Huh? Everything’s fine. Why do you ask?*
Jenna let out a deep breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. But relief soon turned to confusion. Why had her friend asked for help if nothing was wrong? Then she noticed something. The timestamps on the last two messages were 8:15 PM, but the first message was marked as 9:00 PM. That couldn’t be right.
She looked up at Mark again, flashing him a small smile so as not to appear rude. He seemed irritated, but kept silent out of politeness. She’d told herself she would try to get through the entire date. But they’d already finished and paid for their dinner; Mark had just been trying to keep the evening going as long as possible. And she did want to check in on Libby.
*Would it be okay if I came over in a few minutes?* Jenna texted back.
*Sure, I guess so,* Libby replied.
Jenna breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m so sorry,” she said to Mark. “I have to go see my friend. It’s an emergency. Thanks for dinner.”
She stood up and Mark stood with her. “We’ll have to do this again sometime,” he said. He placed a hand on her elbow, which she quickly pulled away to place her phone back into her purse.
“I’ll be in touch,” she said, hoping it was a non-committal enough statement, and walked out the door.
~ ~ ~
Jenna tapped her fingers impatiently on the steering wheel as she waited for the light to turn green. She desperately wanted to get to Libby’s and see that she was okay, but the red lights were exponentially slowing down what should have been a quick drive. Seeking a distraction, Jenna glanced around and spotted a red BMW a few cars back in the next lane. Was that Mark’s car? She was stopped again by the next light and this time saw the same car had moved up a bit closer. She caught a glimpse of the first few letters of the license plate. They looked familiar. *Shit.*
She sped up at the next light and managed to catch it on the yellow, leaving the BMW stuck behind. At the next block, she turned in to Libby’s apartment complex. A quick scan as she stepped out of her car showed that Mark was nowhere in sight. She hoped he’d lost sight of her and given up. Or that she was just being overly paranoid and there was nothing to worry about.
She almost tripped over her heels as she rushed into the building and up the stairs. She knocked on Libby’s door and her friend answered with haste. “Come on in,” Libby said, holding the door open. She was wearing a pair of pajama pants and her Michigan State sweatshirt, her brown hair in a messy bun. Jenna suddenly felt out of place in her little black dress. Libby raised an eyebrow. “So, what’s going on?”
Jenna reached for her phone. “I got this message from you,” she said and handed the phone to Libby.
“What? I didn’t send that,” Libby said. “But this explains your text.”
“Look at the timestamp, though,” Jenna said.
“Nine o’clock? But it’s not even nine yet.”
“If you didn’t send it, maybe you will later.”
“Don’t be silly. Your phone’s just being wonky.” Libby looked Jenna up and down. “Anyway, didn’t you have a date tonight?”
“It wasn’t going so well,” Jenna said distractedly. She had begun walking over to the window. She peeked out through the blinds and saw the red BMW parked in the lot. “Oh shit, he *did* follow me.” Mark had stepped out of his car and was examining hers.
Libby joined her at the window. “Wait, is that the guy you were out with? What the hell is he doing here?”
“I guess he wanted to see if I was telling the truth. Maybe he thought I just wanted to go home, or that I was meeting some other guy instead.”
“So he stalked you? God, what a creep! Well, it doesn’t look like he’s going to come up. You can just hole up here for a while and hopefully he’ll leave soon.”
“Thanks.” Jenna gave Libby a nervous smile. “Anyway, are you sure you didn’t send that message?”
“Of course, look here.” She showed Jenna her phone. Jenna saw their conversation from the restaurant, and before that, a conversation from earlier this afternoon about her upcoming date. No sign of the mysterious “Help me” text. “Besides,” Libby continued, “it’s almost nine, and everything’s fine. Plus, you’re here with me in case something does happen. Relax. I think you’re just getting worked up because of that creepy guy out there.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Jenna glanced out the window again and saw Mark finally get into his car and drive off. “Oh, thank God. At least he doesn’t know where I actually live. But he might come back here later.”
Libby scoffed. “If I see him here again, you can bet I’m gonna call the cops. I remembered his license plate number too, I’m gonna go write it down. Good thing you left that date when you did, though. Looks like you really dodged a bullet.”
“Hmm,” Jenna said, looking down at Libby’s phone still in her hands. The screen showed the time as 9:00 PM. A thought suddenly struck her. She opened the messenger app, touched her own name, and typed the words “Help me.” A moment later, she checked her own phone. No new messages. She waited a few more minutes, but she didn’t really expect to see anything come up. She had a feeling she knew where the message went. | An unknown number called me and given the inebriated state (fueled by pizza) I was in, there was no need for me to break my lazy spree tonight. After the call disappeared from my notification screen, a text message instantly popped up in it's place.
"Help me."
A simple cry for help maybe? I hope this person is doing okay.
I blocked the number and slid across my living room to grab another slice of pizza, attempting to maintain it's integrity as I went in for the initial bite that couldn't wait for my plate. Swing and a miss. The sweet robust tomato sauce leaked with a sour vigor that taunted my previous actions. Supreme toppings found themselves in a poor habitat of cold wooden floor. The shock settled in waves at first, then evolved to a full-blown mid-life crisis for that poor slice of disintegrated insanity that nobody deserves to chew on.
I went to check my phone again. Another text from a new number this time, with the same message. I powered off my phone, and tossed the slice of pizza at the wall out of gravity's betrayal. Fuck pizza that doesn't hold it's integrity. | |
[WP] You're a knight sent on a quest to slay a dragon and free a princess. In a surprise twist, you end up slaying the princess and freeing the dragon. | 'Hey, Gal.' Bill said, as he stepped in the door. Having a 10 ton, fire-breathing monstrosity as a roommate was interesting at first, but, you get used it. Gal's actual name was Gallindrindorf or the "Ancient One" in dragon tongue, but trying to say it on a casual basis was a pain, they both agreed that Gal was fine.
'Bill.'
Bill, or William the Red-Bold, named after his fire red hair, and the boldness of this adventures, certainly didn't intend on killing that princess. Mistakes happen. Gal was cool, though.
Bill set to work unstrapping his armor. Normally a pageboy would have helped him, but keeping Gal fed put a bit of a strain on their budget. Not a lot of work out there for 30 foot long dragons. Bill honestly didn't mind, though. It gave him ample time to inspect his armor.
'Need to replace that strap.' Bill muttered as the buckle got caught again.
As the last of the armor finally dropped off, Bill considered putting it on the dummy in the closet, like he was supposed to, but ultimately just left it on the floor.
'How was adventuring? You were gone for a fortnight.' Gal asked. Human tongues were a strain for dragon-kind, but Gal was getting pretty good at it.
'It was fine. Some king in Askegard lost his sceptor, had to get it back from a dark mage. Pretty typical.' As Bill said this a tankard of mead landed in his hand. 'Thanks, and nice toss!'
'Thanks!' Gal responded, 'I did have some free time lately.' Dragons don't have the easiest time throwing things gently. The last mug Gal tossed at Bill left a sizable dent in the kitchen wall. Which is really impressive, when you consider the wall is made of granite. Bill was finding mug shards for weeks after.
Bill wasn't the best knight out there, but he did have luck on his side. When King Phelix's daughter disappeared, he was the 17th knight to be given the task of returning her to Castle Breckenshire. When Bill entered what he assumed was the dragon's lair, the armor of 16 knights lay on the floor. Of course, Bill aimed his Bow of Enchantedness armed with Arrows of Enlightenment at the dragon. But a mouse in the corner stole his attention for a moment, and the arrow pierced the skull of the bound princess instead. Bill was upset, of course, but Gal soon explained how the princess was actually a witch, absorbing the spirit of her rescuers, and she was keeping the dragon as an unwilling pet.
'Anything good on the magic mirror today?' Bill asked, watching the credits of *Galifrok's Most Wanted* scroll past.
'Nah...' Gal replied, as Bill reclined on the couch. | I could still feel the scratches in my face. Long lines running from my chin, to my eyebrow that stung like acid. How had that tongue made it into my helmet anyway? I could hardly think over the all encompassing sound of thundering of winds beating the air. The last few minutes were all a blur. Blood on my sword, my quest falling to pieces, a lizard like tongue gouging my face, and then flying... I was flying through the air... on the back of a dragon.
The self same dragon I had tried and failed to slay. Instead, I had cut down the object of my quest. How could someone have been so cruel? She'd whipped the poor creature like it didn't have nerve endings. Its wings had been chained to the wall, and she'd gone at them like she wanted to make a hole in them. She'd ignored me when I ordered her to halt... stop.... please stop. The look of absolute sadness on the face of my sworn enemy, had broken my heart. Cries of the creature still echoed in my ears even over the howl of the wind.
"WHERE ARE YOU TAKING ME?" I shouted.
The only reply I received was that of a tongue flopping out, from the corner of its mouth, reminding me of an over joyed pup.
There are worse ways to travel, I suppose. I could almost be considered peaceful, overlooking the land with the occasional fluffy cloud passing by. If not for the thrumming of her wings.
(sleep deprived, brain ran out of steam) (may finish later.) | |
[WP] You're a knight sent on a quest to slay a dragon and free a princess. In a surprise twist, you end up slaying the princess and freeing the dragon. | "That doesn't look like something you cart a lady around in." The dark-haired man called to the punky, pink-haired mercenary that leapt from the driver's side door. He shoved a thumb at the dusty brown truck that she'd just driven into the compound.
"Yeah, well, I had to improvise." The woman said with a wry smile. "The bike kind of got toasted and fuck, man, dragonfire is some nasty shit. You ever seen it, Locke?"
"Yes, I've seen it." He said, his tone flat and unamused. "I grew up around dragons, remember?" But she wasn't even really asking, she was just being faceitious. In an attempt to get back to the matter at hand, he gave her a skeptical look. "Please tell me you at least managed to get "Her Royalness" out of there in one piece." He said, eyeing her expression for any change in demeanor. When her grin intensified he brought a hand to his temple. "Rose...."
"Welll....."
As if on cue, a roar echoed from inside of the truck. A decidedly un-princess-like noise.
"To be clear, the job description was a bit vague."
Locke almost fell over, both out of sheer shock from the noise and because, well, Rose. If she wasn't technically his boss he could have strangled her. "Is that the--" He looked to her, only to catch her shit-eating grin. "Rose, what the *actual* fuck! You had one goddamn job!" The thing roared again - it probably wasn't happy about being stuck in a metal box in the middle of the desert - and Locke couldn't exactly fault it. "You were supposed to grab the lady, not the dragon! We can't make demands with this!"
"Well, the lady was being a little bitch. I liked the dragon better." She said, matter-of-factly, as if nothing else even needed to be considered. "So, *improvising*."
Locke really shouldn't have been surprised. He really shouldn't have been. Rose wasn't known for being the shit disturber she was for making good choices. He massaged his forehead with a hand, closing his eyes. "So, let me get this straight. The lady got on your nerves, so you just fucking left her there and brought the FUCKING DRAGON back instead."
"Yeah. I mean, not exactly, 'cause I shot her before I brought the dragon back, but the rest of that seems right." She said, still grinning.
"You... You *what*?" Oh, he really needed a drink. "Lyrion is going to be *so* fucking pissed..." He shook his head. "They're going to come after us now, you know that, right?"
Rose wasn't bothered by the idea. "Well, yeah, but we have a *dragon*, so..."
Locke threw his hands up then and started walking away. "Whatever! I'm so done with this already..."
"You haven't even heard what I'm gonna name her yet!" She called, before he could walk far enough to get out of earshot.
Against his better judgement, he turned back toward her and groaned. "What are you going to call her, Rose."
She grinned. "Princess." | I could still feel the scratches in my face. Long lines running from my chin, to my eyebrow that stung like acid. How had that tongue made it into my helmet anyway? I could hardly think over the all encompassing sound of thundering of winds beating the air. The last few minutes were all a blur. Blood on my sword, my quest falling to pieces, a lizard like tongue gouging my face, and then flying... I was flying through the air... on the back of a dragon.
The self same dragon I had tried and failed to slay. Instead, I had cut down the object of my quest. How could someone have been so cruel? She'd whipped the poor creature like it didn't have nerve endings. Its wings had been chained to the wall, and she'd gone at them like she wanted to make a hole in them. She'd ignored me when I ordered her to halt... stop.... please stop. The look of absolute sadness on the face of my sworn enemy, had broken my heart. Cries of the creature still echoed in my ears even over the howl of the wind.
"WHERE ARE YOU TAKING ME?" I shouted.
The only reply I received was that of a tongue flopping out, from the corner of its mouth, reminding me of an over joyed pup.
There are worse ways to travel, I suppose. I could almost be considered peaceful, overlooking the land with the occasional fluffy cloud passing by. If not for the thrumming of her wings.
(sleep deprived, brain ran out of steam) (may finish later.) | |
[WP] You're a knight sent on a quest to slay a dragon and free a princess. In a surprise twist, you end up slaying the princess and freeing the dragon. | “Ohshitohshitohshit!” Eric the Brave chanted as he lowered her body to the floor. “Oh shit, Princess. I told you to wait in the sealed chamber.”
“Hgurk-“ was all she managed as gravity finally pulled her free from Eric’s sword. The dark stain of her life’s blood was spreading to every corner of the room, filling it with a sharp metallic tang.
“Whoa!” A huge rumbling voice blurted from behind and above Eric.
Eric spun on his heel to face the voice but slipped in the Princess’s blood and ended up falling flat on his back.
“Who-?” Eric began.
A long thin snout emerged from the darkness. Tendrils of smoke wafted from the nostrils as big as Eric’s doubled fists. Ichor dripped lazily from the monstrous gleaming teeth and sizzled as it hit the flagstones below.
“Damn dude. You killed the Princess.” The Dragon spoke as he surveyed the scene.
“I don’t ... What? You can talk?”
“Yeah, son. And right now you better figure out how you’re gonna explain this to her dad.”
Eric peered up at the eldest home wyrm and tried to ignore the sulfurous wind catching at the back of his throat. “Her ... dad?”
“You’re not one of those ‘academic knights’, are you? Kind of have trouble with anything harder than raping and pillaging?”
“Now see here,” Eric said as he struggled to his feet, “I am Sir Eric the Brave of Hampt-“
“Whatever. Don’t care.” The Dragon lowers his head so it could stare eye-to-massive-eye with the brave knight. “You just shanked the Princess and left the dragon alive. I mean, I’ve seen some dumbass knights but you’re the first one who actually did the job backwards.”
“I ... I was sent here to rescue her and, uh, ...”
“Slay me, right? Get the girl, kill the wyrm. Yeah, I know. It’s kind of my thing. Well, used to be. I’ve been retired for a while.”
“Retired?”
“Yeah, princess stealing is a young dragon’s game. I’ve got a nice little abandoned mountaintop castle to call my own and a hord big enough to keep me warm at night. I don’t get out much anymore.”
“Don’t get out much? But you kidnapped the Princess!?”
“Um, no.”
“Well then,” Eric asked, “why was she here in your lair?”
“It’s not much of a lair. More of a cottage, really. Could do with some sprucing up, sure. But the girl showed up here on her own.”
“On her own?”
“Yep, just walked right up to the front gate and demanded to be let in. Would absolutely not shut up about it until I dropped the drawbridge.”
“But - but why would she do that?”
“She was a crazy bitch. Did you not notice?”
Eric tore a scrap from the Princess’s dress and began wiping the blood from his sword. “She just seemed - I don’t know. Demanding? But aren’t all princesses like that?”
“Ha! No way, man. No, she was a turbo bitch. She hadn’t been here an hour and she’s already breaking my balls over how I don’t have a proper tower to chain her up in.”
“What the hell?”
“I know, right? Eventually, I get the story out of her. Daddy was going to marry her off to some far-off Prince to seal some deal or something. She threw a fit and did that whole ‘they’ll miss me when I gone’ bit. She thought being kidnapped by a dragon would get her Daddy to pay attention.”
Eric looked down at the Princess’s lifeless eyes. “She said I wasn’t worthy of rescuing her. I told her to hide in the other chamber while I ... you know, killed the dragon.”
“Uh-huh. Didn’t work, did it?”
“No. Guess she ended up following me. She was just starting to tell me I was doing it wrong when she came around the corner. All I heard was some kind of high-pitched squealing and thought it might be some kind of demon watchdog or something. I figured out what she was saying after I’d ... after I’d gutted her.”
“Demon watchdog?”
“I don’t know. This is my first time with this.”
“Man, look, you gotta watch out for you. Ain’t no woman worth what you were about to put yourself through.”
“I suppose I should work on me before rescuing others.”
“Yeah. Or you could just get really drunk and forget today ever happened. I hear the village down the mountain has a wonder tavern and brothel.”
“How do you know that?”
“That hoard of gold? I own part of the brothel. Hell, it’s been a rough day - how about a ten percent discount?” | I could still feel the scratches in my face. Long lines running from my chin, to my eyebrow that stung like acid. How had that tongue made it into my helmet anyway? I could hardly think over the all encompassing sound of thundering of winds beating the air. The last few minutes were all a blur. Blood on my sword, my quest falling to pieces, a lizard like tongue gouging my face, and then flying... I was flying through the air... on the back of a dragon.
The self same dragon I had tried and failed to slay. Instead, I had cut down the object of my quest. How could someone have been so cruel? She'd whipped the poor creature like it didn't have nerve endings. Its wings had been chained to the wall, and she'd gone at them like she wanted to make a hole in them. She'd ignored me when I ordered her to halt... stop.... please stop. The look of absolute sadness on the face of my sworn enemy, had broken my heart. Cries of the creature still echoed in my ears even over the howl of the wind.
"WHERE ARE YOU TAKING ME?" I shouted.
The only reply I received was that of a tongue flopping out, from the corner of its mouth, reminding me of an over joyed pup.
There are worse ways to travel, I suppose. I could almost be considered peaceful, overlooking the land with the occasional fluffy cloud passing by. If not for the thrumming of her wings.
(sleep deprived, brain ran out of steam) (may finish later.) | |
[WP] You're a knight sent on a quest to slay a dragon and free a princess. In a surprise twist, you end up slaying the princess and freeing the dragon. | The sword plunges into her chest, blood sprouts from the wound and my face is stained with red. just like last time, there was no fight to be had. just one-sided execution.
I'm in a field of red and white flowers, all of them beautiful and shining.
No, not flowers, bodies. The bodies of the Princess. the many, many imperfect reproductions that the dragon had created, in a mad attempt to, to-
*To what, exactly?*
Why would he create so many copies? *how* could he even create them? and where *where* is the real Princess?
Another Princess approaches me, she just stood there, in the bloodied hall completely naked, looking at me with fear in her eyes.
Is a complete opposite of the loving look I expected when I came to this place.
*This place? what is this place anyway? whose Castle is this?*
The Princess's head is split in two, was her body really that fragile? or was my sword really that sharp?
"Seems like you're having some trouble"
A small boy, hand on his back says this while smiling, the fact that there was another being other than the Princess surprises me. "I was like you, at the beginning, I just burned this girl's until there was nothing but ashes, but after 50 years of them appearing over and over again...well, I was obviously doing something wrong"
"----"
I try to say something, but nothing comes out *50 years? he must be lying* my voice is caught in my throat.
"You look confused, Mr. Knight," he says while playing with the corpse of another Princess. stepping on her head "allow me to introduce myself, fellow prison-mate. I am Grigory, the immortal Drag-"
Just like a cannonball.
"-on!"
My whole body is shot toward him, my sword piercing his small body. of course, how could I not see it? there is only another being that could be in here with me, and the fact that he just introduced himself as such only confirms it
*Dragon!*
"ehem!" a girl says, behind me. not the princess, but a girl I've never seen in my life "that was really rude! what would you have done if I wasn't an immortal being!? you would have killed an innocent boy!"
My sword is swing at the unknown girl, beheading her. the head flies in the air and-
Is caught by a soldier I've never seen.
"Oh wonderful," he says "you have been killing so much in your time here that your brain can't even issue another type of command"
I take a deep breath, an electric current flows through my arms and into my sword, my voice was raspy, but even so, I could do this "Legian--" I say my sword's name "--scream."
Grigory rolls his eyes.
***
I can't move.
"It's pointless," Grigory says, she was now an elf with long blonde hair. a long bow in her hand "trying to kill *me* is almost the same as trying to get rid of all these copies the Princess made"
I can't speak. *what the hell does she mean by 'copies the Princess made'?
"The only difference is that I fight back...and well, you see what happened..."
It's just a matter of endurance, I just couldn't keep up and as I hopelessly stayed on the ground, she just kept talking nonsense.
"I really don't want to kill you..."
"...the Princess...where..."
"Yep, she is the one that put us in here, in this...magical box," she said, crossing her arms I could see anger in her eyes, a look that didn't fit her smiling face "I call it [Eternal castle] a immortal spell designed to imprison immortal beings like me... and you...Mr. Knight, no-" she kneels in front of me and grabs my head, we stare at each other's eyes "-*partner* are my way out!"
***
Let me know what you think, any advice is really appreciated!
[r/Onni21](https://www.reddit.com/r/Onni21/)
| I could still feel the scratches in my face. Long lines running from my chin, to my eyebrow that stung like acid. How had that tongue made it into my helmet anyway? I could hardly think over the all encompassing sound of thundering of winds beating the air. The last few minutes were all a blur. Blood on my sword, my quest falling to pieces, a lizard like tongue gouging my face, and then flying... I was flying through the air... on the back of a dragon.
The self same dragon I had tried and failed to slay. Instead, I had cut down the object of my quest. How could someone have been so cruel? She'd whipped the poor creature like it didn't have nerve endings. Its wings had been chained to the wall, and she'd gone at them like she wanted to make a hole in them. She'd ignored me when I ordered her to halt... stop.... please stop. The look of absolute sadness on the face of my sworn enemy, had broken my heart. Cries of the creature still echoed in my ears even over the howl of the wind.
"WHERE ARE YOU TAKING ME?" I shouted.
The only reply I received was that of a tongue flopping out, from the corner of its mouth, reminding me of an over joyed pup.
There are worse ways to travel, I suppose. I could almost be considered peaceful, overlooking the land with the occasional fluffy cloud passing by. If not for the thrumming of her wings.
(sleep deprived, brain ran out of steam) (may finish later.) | |
[WP] You're a knight sent on a quest to slay a dragon and free a princess. In a surprise twist, you end up slaying the princess and freeing the dragon. |
Merl gripped the reins of the horse loosely, a vacant expression on his face. The castle wasn’t far away now, but he’d sensed an odd aura permeating the air, and it was only growing stronger the closer he got. Evidently, the horse was beginning to sense it too, as it whinnied in terror, its front hooves suspended dramatically in the air in an attempt to come to a halt. Merl sighed as the sudden stop sent him catapulting forwards. Twisting his body in mid-air, he landed gently on his feet.
Turning to the horse, he gave it a hard smack on the back. “Off you go then,” he muttered, watching the horse gallop away into the distance. No sense in turning a perfectly good horse into charred meat. If the faint draconic roars coming from the direction of the castle were any indication, this wasn’t going to be a simple “get the princess and run” situation.
Merl furrowed his brows as he rushed towards the castle. Was it even worth his time? The king had promised a “bountiful” reward for rescuing his daughter, but knowing the old crook, that could be a paltry sum of gold, or worse, his daughter’s hand in marriage. Merl gagged slightly at the notion, pushing that horrible scenario to the back of his mind. At worst, he resolved, he’d break into the royal treasury and take something decent for himself.
As he drew closer and closer to the castle gates, Merl felt as if something was *off*, somehow. It took him a moment to pinpoint exactly what it was. The dragon’s roars sounded odd. Not the ferocious battle cries that normally sounded from the majestic kings of the sky, no. Somehow, the guttural noises sounded almost… *pained*. Like a plea for help. Merl frowned. There were very, very few existences capable of making a dragon feel pain, and there certainly shouldn’t have been any in this backwater of a kingdom. What was he getting himself into?
Merl considered the situation for a moment, before tossing it aside. He’d figure it out once he got there. His footsteps barely faltered as he dashed towards the gates, charging headfirst into the inner grounds of the castle. But instead of seeing a ferocious dragon with its tail coiled around a helpless princess, the situation was… far more interesting.
The inside of the castle looked as if it had been levelled by a chaotic struggle. Rubble was scattered haphazardly throughout the great hall, and streaks of blood stained the grey stone walls. It only took a moment for Merl to find the elephant- well, dragon- in the room. The winged beast was the centerpiece of the hall, its red scales glistening in the afternoon sun. But the normally majestic, ferocious dragon looked pitiful, its oversized body chained to the floor in an uncomfortable position by shimmering purple chains. Underneath the dragon was a gargantuan magic circle, the complex crisscrossing lines glowing with pulsating arcane energy. Occasionally, a sharp purple chain would materialize in the air, before plunging between the dragon’s scales, causing it to roar in pain. The blood that dripped from the dragon’s body hovered in the air, seemingly attracted to a floating crystal orb, now half-filled with bubbling draconic blood.
Merl’s eyes widened at the sight. Setting up a formation like this was no mean feat, even for an advanced sorcerer. His eyes darted around the grand hall, searching for the source of the terrifying magical power that surged from the magic circle in front of him. A moment later, his eyes narrowed as he sensed an enormous mana fluctuation from a petite young girl, scarcely visible behind the dragon’s enormous body.
“Oh, a guest,” she chimed, looking Merl in the eye.
The dragon’s large yellow eyes swiveled wildly at the girl’s voice, before it noticed Merl standing in the doorway. Its pupils dilated in excitement, and it opened its large maw to speak.
“O, brave warrior! Please-”
The dragon’s plea for help was abruptly cut off as the girl’s face darkened, before she waved her hand.
“Silence,” she spat, as a series of purple chains extended from the magic circle, clamping the dragon’s mouth shut. The dragon’s cries turned muffled, and Merl raised an eyebrow at the young girl. Was this really the princess he was supposed to rescue? Where was the frail, delicate girl that the king had been so worried about? The vicious sorceress in front of him was worlds apart from the mental image that he’d had of the king’s daughter.
The princess smiled at Merl, and a chill ran down his spine. Smiling did *not* suit her. The smile didn’t reach her eyes, and it looked creepy and out-of-place somehow.
“Are you here to rescue me, dear knight?” she asked, a sultry tone to her voice.
Merl’s eyes narrowed. The enchanting undertone to her words wasn’t just a product of her voice. It was imbued with charm magic, and high-level charm magic at that.
“Shall we dispense with the parlor tricks?” he asked, his voice icy.
The princess’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Evidently, she hadn’t expected Merl to be able to resist her charm magic, but she recovered quickly. She laughed gently, before her tone turned threatening.
“You’ll leave if you know what’s good for you, knight. I need the dragon’s blood for a ritual. If you interrupt me, you *will* pay the price for it.”
It was Merl’s turn to laugh, much to the consternation of the princess. He spoke deliberately and calmly.
“You’re wrong about two things, princess. One, I’m no knight. I’m a sellsword. My services go to the highest bidder.”
Merl waved his hand casually, and in an instant, a pale blue sword materialized in front of the dragon’s maw. It sliced against the arcane chains that bound its mouth like a hot knife through butter. The chains that held enough strength to restrain a dragon fell harmlessly to the side under the horrified gaze of the princess.
“Dragon, make an offer,” Merl said, his voice quiet but commanding.
The dragon gnashed its massive teeth, and growled. “A set of shed dragon scales, and a vial of dragon blood if you free me.”
“Come on, you can do better than that,” Merl laughed.
“Fine, you swindler. I’ll add on one fruit from the World Tree,” it roared, clearly pained over the price that Merl was demanding from it. Merl nodded his head firmly, and the dragon heaved a sigh of relief.
At this juncture, the princess glared at Merl, before thrusting a slender white arm towards him. The magic circle that bound the dragon began to glow even more brilliantly, and a series of arcane missiles whistled through the air as they flew towards Merl. The barrage was endless. Hundreds upon hundreds of sharp arcane bolts pulsing with magical energy crashed towards the spot where Merl stood, unmoving.
As the dust cleared, Merl stood there, stock still, a humming blue aura exuding from his body. His lips curled into a mocking smile.
“Two, you don’t have the qualifications to make me pay a price for anything.”
He leapt into the air towards the princess, the stone floor of the castle crumbling under the force of his jump. The princess had shock written on her face, and a purple magic barrier formed in front of her in an attempt to block Merl’s offensive. The surging blue aura that surrounded Merl quickly materialized into a series of azure blades that rained down upon the princess’s shield. It only took a moment before the purple light began to crack under the torrent of blades.
A moment later, Merl’s body flashed past the princess, a single, resplendent blue sword in his hands. The princess fell to the floor, her body bisected at the waist. Her beautiful face was a mask of pure terror, as she realized too late that she’d offended the wrong person.
Merl chuckled as the purple chains that restrained the dragon dissipated. The fruit of the World Tree was a rare delicacy, and he couldn't help but salivate as he thought about it. Now *this* was a worthy reward.
*****
*more stories at /r/chasing_mist*
| I could still feel the scratches in my face. Long lines running from my chin, to my eyebrow that stung like acid. How had that tongue made it into my helmet anyway? I could hardly think over the all encompassing sound of thundering of winds beating the air. The last few minutes were all a blur. Blood on my sword, my quest falling to pieces, a lizard like tongue gouging my face, and then flying... I was flying through the air... on the back of a dragon.
The self same dragon I had tried and failed to slay. Instead, I had cut down the object of my quest. How could someone have been so cruel? She'd whipped the poor creature like it didn't have nerve endings. Its wings had been chained to the wall, and she'd gone at them like she wanted to make a hole in them. She'd ignored me when I ordered her to halt... stop.... please stop. The look of absolute sadness on the face of my sworn enemy, had broken my heart. Cries of the creature still echoed in my ears even over the howl of the wind.
"WHERE ARE YOU TAKING ME?" I shouted.
The only reply I received was that of a tongue flopping out, from the corner of its mouth, reminding me of an over joyed pup.
There are worse ways to travel, I suppose. I could almost be considered peaceful, overlooking the land with the occasional fluffy cloud passing by. If not for the thrumming of her wings.
(sleep deprived, brain ran out of steam) (may finish later.) | |
[WP] You're a knight sent on a quest to slay a dragon and free a princess. In a surprise twist, you end up slaying the princess and freeing the dragon. | "I am here to slay you, o great dragon! Free her, or I will-" Ser Toros screamed as he looked at the mighty dragon.
"Yeah, take her," the dragon said.
"Don't resist- what?" Toros looked confused. He looked up, top of the tower. The Princess looked out of the balcony.
"You stupid dragon, protect me, or I will make you into ham!" Ser Toros felt confusion gathering inside. Mostly about the fact that Ham can only be pork, not dragon meat.
"Prepare yourself, I am going to protect the princess, rawr," the Dragon said with no enthusiast and obvious fake sound that even Toros let down his sword.
"This is wrong," Toros said, looking up at the princess.
"Oh my god, ONE TASK! I GAVE YOU ONE TASK!" the princess screamed and suddenly threw a rope down from the tower. Then she started coming down from there. The Knight enjoyed the view while it lasted.
As she arrived down she went next to dragon and started hitting the dragon with her legs. "You stupid dragon. I'm never gonna find brave knight if we continue like that. I must marry the strongest knight ever. For that, you need to give them a challenge!"
The dragon frowned. Trust me, when dragon frowns, it is very visible. "Last 3 knights are dead because of that. It took me only one burst of fire. I don't want to kill them. This is wrong!"
"SHUT UP!" the princess screamed. "You do as I say! I own you! You are nothing without me!"
As she said that, a knight stepped quietly few steps forward and pushed sword through her, no emotion.
Both dragon and princess stared at him, with the exception that princess fell down a moment later, showing no signs of being alive.
"What have you done?" the dragon asked.
"She is the worst. I wouldn't want the kingdom to be ruled by her." Toros slowly shook his head and started walking away.
"W-what about me?" the dragon asked.
"Well, since I am probably soon to be really wanted man, I wouldn't mind having dragon companion with me," Toros said, with a small grin. The dragon looked around and then just started following Toros. "You can go home if you want." The dragon shook his head.
"So, how did you end up working for the princess anyway?" Toros asked. "Being dragon and all."
"She found out where our hiding place was and promised to send every knight there to annihilate our children and home."
"Oh, she definitely lied," Toros said. "Plus, we would be afraid to even go close to your home. We would probably mark it down on the map as a place to avoid. You are a dragon, dammit!"
"Oh."
----
/r/ElvenWrites | I could still feel the scratches in my face. Long lines running from my chin, to my eyebrow that stung like acid. How had that tongue made it into my helmet anyway? I could hardly think over the all encompassing sound of thundering of winds beating the air. The last few minutes were all a blur. Blood on my sword, my quest falling to pieces, a lizard like tongue gouging my face, and then flying... I was flying through the air... on the back of a dragon.
The self same dragon I had tried and failed to slay. Instead, I had cut down the object of my quest. How could someone have been so cruel? She'd whipped the poor creature like it didn't have nerve endings. Its wings had been chained to the wall, and she'd gone at them like she wanted to make a hole in them. She'd ignored me when I ordered her to halt... stop.... please stop. The look of absolute sadness on the face of my sworn enemy, had broken my heart. Cries of the creature still echoed in my ears even over the howl of the wind.
"WHERE ARE YOU TAKING ME?" I shouted.
The only reply I received was that of a tongue flopping out, from the corner of its mouth, reminding me of an over joyed pup.
There are worse ways to travel, I suppose. I could almost be considered peaceful, overlooking the land with the occasional fluffy cloud passing by. If not for the thrumming of her wings.
(sleep deprived, brain ran out of steam) (may finish later.) | |
[WP] You're a knight sent on a quest to slay a dragon and free a princess. In a surprise twist, you end up slaying the princess and freeing the dragon. | "That doesn't look like something you cart a lady around in." The dark-haired man called to the punky, pink-haired mercenary that leapt from the driver's side door. He shoved a thumb at the dusty brown truck that she'd just driven into the compound.
"Yeah, well, I had to improvise." The woman said with a wry smile. "The bike kind of got toasted and fuck, man, dragonfire is some nasty shit. You ever seen it, Locke?"
"Yes, I've seen it." He said, his tone flat and unamused. "I grew up around dragons, remember?" But she wasn't even really asking, she was just being faceitious. In an attempt to get back to the matter at hand, he gave her a skeptical look. "Please tell me you at least managed to get "Her Royalness" out of there in one piece." He said, eyeing her expression for any change in demeanor. When her grin intensified he brought a hand to his temple. "Rose...."
"Welll....."
As if on cue, a roar echoed from inside of the truck. A decidedly un-princess-like noise.
"To be clear, the job description was a bit vague."
Locke almost fell over, both out of sheer shock from the noise and because, well, Rose. If she wasn't technically his boss he could have strangled her. "Is that the--" He looked to her, only to catch her shit-eating grin. "Rose, what the *actual* fuck! You had one goddamn job!" The thing roared again - it probably wasn't happy about being stuck in a metal box in the middle of the desert - and Locke couldn't exactly fault it. "You were supposed to grab the lady, not the dragon! We can't make demands with this!"
"Well, the lady was being a little bitch. I liked the dragon better." She said, matter-of-factly, as if nothing else even needed to be considered. "So, *improvising*."
Locke really shouldn't have been surprised. He really shouldn't have been. Rose wasn't known for being the shit disturber she was for making good choices. He massaged his forehead with a hand, closing his eyes. "So, let me get this straight. The lady got on your nerves, so you just fucking left her there and brought the FUCKING DRAGON back instead."
"Yeah. I mean, not exactly, 'cause I shot her before I brought the dragon back, but the rest of that seems right." She said, still grinning.
"You... You *what*?" Oh, he really needed a drink. "Lyrion is going to be *so* fucking pissed..." He shook his head. "They're going to come after us now, you know that, right?"
Rose wasn't bothered by the idea. "Well, yeah, but we have a *dragon*, so..."
Locke threw his hands up then and started walking away. "Whatever! I'm so done with this already..."
"You haven't even heard what I'm gonna name her yet!" She called, before he could walk far enough to get out of earshot.
Against his better judgement, he turned back toward her and groaned. "What are you going to call her, Rose."
She grinned. "Princess." | 'Hey, Gal.' Bill said, as he stepped in the door. Having a 10 ton, fire-breathing monstrosity as a roommate was interesting at first, but, you get used it. Gal's actual name was Gallindrindorf or the "Ancient One" in dragon tongue, but trying to say it on a casual basis was a pain, they both agreed that Gal was fine.
'Bill.'
Bill, or William the Red-Bold, named after his fire red hair, and the boldness of this adventures, certainly didn't intend on killing that princess. Mistakes happen. Gal was cool, though.
Bill set to work unstrapping his armor. Normally a pageboy would have helped him, but keeping Gal fed put a bit of a strain on their budget. Not a lot of work out there for 30 foot long dragons. Bill honestly didn't mind, though. It gave him ample time to inspect his armor.
'Need to replace that strap.' Bill muttered as the buckle got caught again.
As the last of the armor finally dropped off, Bill considered putting it on the dummy in the closet, like he was supposed to, but ultimately just left it on the floor.
'How was adventuring? You were gone for a fortnight.' Gal asked. Human tongues were a strain for dragon-kind, but Gal was getting pretty good at it.
'It was fine. Some king in Askegard lost his sceptor, had to get it back from a dark mage. Pretty typical.' As Bill said this a tankard of mead landed in his hand. 'Thanks, and nice toss!'
'Thanks!' Gal responded, 'I did have some free time lately.' Dragons don't have the easiest time throwing things gently. The last mug Gal tossed at Bill left a sizable dent in the kitchen wall. Which is really impressive, when you consider the wall is made of granite. Bill was finding mug shards for weeks after.
Bill wasn't the best knight out there, but he did have luck on his side. When King Phelix's daughter disappeared, he was the 17th knight to be given the task of returning her to Castle Breckenshire. When Bill entered what he assumed was the dragon's lair, the armor of 16 knights lay on the floor. Of course, Bill aimed his Bow of Enchantedness armed with Arrows of Enlightenment at the dragon. But a mouse in the corner stole his attention for a moment, and the arrow pierced the skull of the bound princess instead. Bill was upset, of course, but Gal soon explained how the princess was actually a witch, absorbing the spirit of her rescuers, and she was keeping the dragon as an unwilling pet.
'Anything good on the magic mirror today?' Bill asked, watching the credits of *Galifrok's Most Wanted* scroll past.
'Nah...' Gal replied, as Bill reclined on the couch. | |
[WP] A dragon kidnaps a princess. A decade passes. One day a puppy walks through her door. Seeing her confusion, the dragon says "all those knights came for lands and titles. He came for love. You are free to go." | "Wait, what?" the fair maiden asked, the distorted expression on her face looking anything but fair.
The massive scaled form moved, scales running by scales as it began to uncoil itself. A magnificent slanted eye the size of a full-length mirror reflected her image back at her, and it answered, "You are free to--"
"No," she bit, "what!? Ah, fantastic, I have an ever-loving ball of fur as a companion--how the fuck is that supposed to help me? What the hell do you expect me to do? Say I get set upon by wolves, or bandits, upon leaving this godforsaken tomb. I'll be fucking dead before sundown!"
Its substantial triangular head tilted in bafflement, one of its horns brushing against the crystalline chandelier of a time long passed. The princess stalked back and forth like a caged tiger, her dusty, worn pick gown brushing along the floor. "And, and, and say I DO make it to some town or city alive. Whose going to believe I," she gestures animatedly at her disheveled appearance, "am their long lost princess? 'Oh, yeah, the dragon just let me go. HE MASSACRED MY ENTIRE FAMILY AND ALL THE GUARDS AND ALL THE SERVANTS AND HELD ME CAPTIVE FOR FIFTEEN YEARS, but yeah, let me walk right out the doors. I'd be the crazy beggar woman wandering the streets." The dragon expelled an sudden burst of air, that sent the long, blond coils of her hair over her face in a wild tangle.
She pushed it aside and whirled back at it. "Will they even hire a woman in this medieval-esque fantasy world? Even if they did, I don't have any discernable skills! What could I possibly offer someone? I'd fucking starve to death in no time. Unless if course I take up prostitution. Royalty from the old days of King Georj the First, reduced to prostitution." She laughed humorouslessly. The dragon, if one could interpret its serpentine face, seemed uneasy.
"And why?" she continued. "So some fucking lizard with a god complex could dispel his great philosophical wisdom. FUCK. YOU." And then she pushed uselessly against its nose, spun around and stalked angrily down the dark, dingy hall. The puppy, forgotten, relieved itself in the corner.
| The puppy was actually John Wick's puppy. 2 seconds later Wick drives his mustang through the wall of the castle, it explodes wounding the dragon, Wick is nowhere to be seen. The dragon roars and screams 'I said she was free to go!'
*Pan up*
Wick appears in the rafters aiming down on the dragon with his 82A1, 'You're free to go to hell' *keanu style*
BANGBANGABGNABGNABBANG!
Wick shoots the dragon in the head 11 times. Reloads, press checks the 50bmg, and tactical scoots down from the rafters.
The princess looks at him and back at the dragon, it's shattered skull barely in tact, gore and fractured bone littering stone floor at the bloody stump which was previously its neck. She says 'He had kept me captive so long, fought and defeated so many whom had come to save me and the moment he released me you slew him.' Wick motions to the grey pitbull that has begun snuffling around the bloody mess. 'That's my dog'.
Wick leaves the princess in the ruined castle, stinking carcass of dragon wafting through the air, as he and the puppy cruise off into the sunset in a sick '68 resto-mod Charger R/T that Aurelio had dropped off while John was killing the dragon.
The End. | |
[WP] A dragon kidnaps a princess. A decade passes. One day a puppy walks through her door. Seeing her confusion, the dragon says "all those knights came for lands and titles. He came for love. You are free to go." | Krigeri'gax clung to the high tooth of rock that peaked from the rim of his cold home. His volcano, now matched by his heart, was dead. The last of his warmth was running from him as fast as her spirit could carry her, all the while she clutched the darling creature that had gifted her freedom. Even now the puppy was only excited about the strange game they were playing.
Mighty wings fanned out to the sky, angled to catch the eternal heat of the sun. Strange that it should feel so hollow. Perhaps it echoed his life. He'd battled and killed great wyrms far stronger than himself, and wore his scars with pride. He'd duelled wizards and knights, and defeated grandmasters at their own contrived games. He'd made and destroyed entire empires on a mere whim!
And now, after all this time, he'd been defeated.
His traps and wards had been meticulous. They were arrayed across his lands like vines, yet this creature had bungled through them all. The purity of it had struck Krigeri'gax. A puppy had simply wandered off before its time, and gone on a merry stroll. When the great wyrm had peered into the thing's mind he saw nothing of malice or cruelty or violence.
Sheer luck had guided the accursed creature's way! It slept in the den of a bear and left mere moments before the bear's return. A goat feeding its kids was too stupid to realise it had an extra hungry mouth on its teat. It was too light to trigger any of the intruder platforms, it was too quick to set off the hidden enemy alerts. It had no leather or metal or cloth, no touch of magic or techery.
Worst of all, and what had undone Krigeri'gax, was the purity of the little creature's mind. The damn puppy was a happy, warm, well-fed little explorer. It was the only time he could ever recall a lesser creature having a thought that felt like... "yay!" It had shaken the dragon for he hadn't encountered anything truly new to him for longer than he could recall.
It had revealed the hole in Krigeri'gax's heart. He was old and worn down, and there were far too few things in the world that reminded him that 'happy' was an option, and he had seen that he'd been a fool to this wonderful woman.
As his grip on the stone slipped and his vision darkened he whispered goodbye to the world, and he thought of her smile.
It was wamth.
| The puppy was actually John Wick's puppy. 2 seconds later Wick drives his mustang through the wall of the castle, it explodes wounding the dragon, Wick is nowhere to be seen. The dragon roars and screams 'I said she was free to go!'
*Pan up*
Wick appears in the rafters aiming down on the dragon with his 82A1, 'You're free to go to hell' *keanu style*
BANGBANGABGNABGNABBANG!
Wick shoots the dragon in the head 11 times. Reloads, press checks the 50bmg, and tactical scoots down from the rafters.
The princess looks at him and back at the dragon, it's shattered skull barely in tact, gore and fractured bone littering stone floor at the bloody stump which was previously its neck. She says 'He had kept me captive so long, fought and defeated so many whom had come to save me and the moment he released me you slew him.' Wick motions to the grey pitbull that has begun snuffling around the bloody mess. 'That's my dog'.
Wick leaves the princess in the ruined castle, stinking carcass of dragon wafting through the air, as he and the puppy cruise off into the sunset in a sick '68 resto-mod Charger R/T that Aurelio had dropped off while John was killing the dragon.
The End. | |
[WP] A dragon kidnaps a princess. A decade passes. One day a puppy walks through her door. Seeing her confusion, the dragon says "all those knights came for lands and titles. He came for love. You are free to go." | 'Free?' the princess gaped.
The dragon chuckled, folding his forelegs and flicking his long ears. 'Yes, Evelyn, you're free to leave now.'
'But Osiris,' Evelyn frowned, 'I'm only sixteen. I thought the plan was I would stay here until I was old and ugly.'
'You ARE old and ugly, what more do you want?' The dragon said. He grinned a wicked grin, serpentine tongue flicking through his fangs in jest.
The princess flung her slipper at the forty-foot fire-breather and turned to her guest. The puppy was sitting (rather politely) by the hearth, legs kicked to one side, tongue lolling in a soft pant.
'Uh,' she said, coughing into her fist. The puppy twisted its head upside down to look at her, mouth curling in a dopey doggy-smile.
'He's cute, isn't he?' Osiris purred, resting his chin on the window ledge.
'How did he make it up the stairs?' She asked.
Osiris blew a ring of smoke at her. 'I eat the bad boys, but help the good boys. He's a good boy.'
The puppy bounced to his feet, body twisting side to side with the enthusiasm of his tail-wagging. He knew he was a good boy and Osiris huffed in amusement.
Evelyn narrowed her eyes. 'You're letting me go because a puppy wandered in here? Last year you wouldn't even let me pick the wildflowers outside the castle-- how is this any different, you tar-dipped prick?'
'Evelyn,' Osiris gasped in mock offence, 'who taught you such filthy language?'
She threw the other slipper at him, smacking him in the centre of his bony head with a solid **thwack**. 'We had an agreement, Orisis.'
The dragon lifted her slipper with two talons before flicking it off the parapet and watching it tumble into the moat.
'You hired me to kidnap and protect you from those that wanted to use you. You told me you would no longer need me when your true love came to rescue you. This puppy does not want to use you, but love you. Therefore; you no longer require my services.'
She openly gaped. 'That's your logic?! Osiris you… you! Urg! You *twit*! I want a man to love me-- a HUMAN man, Osiris. Not a puppy! This--' she gestured wildly to the puppy, '--is not a man.'
Osiris rolled his cat-like eyes. 'All men are the same; I assure you. Just, take the flaming puppy and BE. HAPPY.'
The puppy bumped her leg, pinning the hem of her dress in a cheerful sploot. She met the tiny pup's golden gaze and immediately surrendered to his soundless plea for a cuddle. Evelyn gathered the black and white fluffball in her arms, kissing his forehead and smiling as he gleefully coated her chin in puppy-kisses. He smelt like freshly baked bread and pepper, his fur so soft she grabbed fistfuls of it before she could help herself.
'I'll keep him here as my companion, but I'm *not* leaving,' she said.
Osiris's frill flared in annoyance. 'You must leave; I need this room for the next princess I kidnap.'
'You have an entire castle, why the pit can't we share?'
Osiris pulled away from the window to spit a ball of flame in frustration. '*Because*,' he argued, 'you all require feeding and grooming and I'm only cut out to look after one princess at a time.'
'If you let me stay, I'll help you look after another princess,' Evelyn said. 'I had a little brother once, I used to help Nanny with him.'
Osiris twisted his head to examine her with a lava-red eye. 'I forgot you female humans have to raise the demonic spawns.'
'Momma dragons don't look after their babies?' She teased.
'**Stars** no,' Osiris snorted, 'that's my job. I kidnap princesses in-between heat seasons, but I'm not really in the clutch game anymore.'
His ancient gaze slid to the horizon and he sighed deeply, curls of smoke twisting through his fangs. 'Despite my efforts, all of my daughter are absolutely batshit crazy.'
The puppy barked with laughter and she snickered even as Osiris bared his fangs at her and raised the other slipper he'd been hiding.
~~this is my first ever post I'm sorry~~ | “I—what? You’re kicking me out, just like that?”
The dragon fiddled his claws. “I thought you wanted out?”
“Well yes! Back when it was a month in. Or even a year in, I would’ve gladly said my goodbyes and left! But now that I’m old and wrinkly, you want to get rid of me!”
The dragon rolled his eyes. “You’re only 27. The only wrinkle I see is that little one on your left eye—“
The princess gasped in horror. “I have a wrinkle?!”
He couldn’t hold back his chortle. Or huff and puff, whatever you call dragons do when they laugh. He trotted over to the door and patted the puppy on the head. “Good puppy. Now take the princess and go on.”
The dragon was holding the door open and looked at the princess expectedly.
To dragon’s dismay, the princess started crying. “What—what am I going to do to buy clothes? Jewellery? The latest fashionable shoes?”
Cleaning his claws nonchalantly, “Really? Your first concern isn’t food and shelter?”
Princess wailed loudly. “How can you do this to me? After all these years?”
“To hell with this.” Dragon muttered under his breath. He sucked in all the air he could and let it out in one big swoop towards the princess.
The princess screamed as the wind took her as far as the eyes can see. The dragon smiled and sighed in relief. “Peace… at last.”
The dog chose this unfortunate moment to bark.
“Well hello, breakfast.” | |
[WP] A dragon kidnaps a princess. A decade passes. One day a puppy walks through her door. Seeing her confusion, the dragon says "all those knights came for lands and titles. He came for love. You are free to go." | 'Free?' the princess gaped.
The dragon chuckled, folding his forelegs and flicking his long ears. 'Yes, Evelyn, you're free to leave now.'
'But Osiris,' Evelyn frowned, 'I'm only sixteen. I thought the plan was I would stay here until I was old and ugly.'
'You ARE old and ugly, what more do you want?' The dragon said. He grinned a wicked grin, serpentine tongue flicking through his fangs in jest.
The princess flung her slipper at the forty-foot fire-breather and turned to her guest. The puppy was sitting (rather politely) by the hearth, legs kicked to one side, tongue lolling in a soft pant.
'Uh,' she said, coughing into her fist. The puppy twisted its head upside down to look at her, mouth curling in a dopey doggy-smile.
'He's cute, isn't he?' Osiris purred, resting his chin on the window ledge.
'How did he make it up the stairs?' She asked.
Osiris blew a ring of smoke at her. 'I eat the bad boys, but help the good boys. He's a good boy.'
The puppy bounced to his feet, body twisting side to side with the enthusiasm of his tail-wagging. He knew he was a good boy and Osiris huffed in amusement.
Evelyn narrowed her eyes. 'You're letting me go because a puppy wandered in here? Last year you wouldn't even let me pick the wildflowers outside the castle-- how is this any different, you tar-dipped prick?'
'Evelyn,' Osiris gasped in mock offence, 'who taught you such filthy language?'
She threw the other slipper at him, smacking him in the centre of his bony head with a solid **thwack**. 'We had an agreement, Orisis.'
The dragon lifted her slipper with two talons before flicking it off the parapet and watching it tumble into the moat.
'You hired me to kidnap and protect you from those that wanted to use you. You told me you would no longer need me when your true love came to rescue you. This puppy does not want to use you, but love you. Therefore; you no longer require my services.'
She openly gaped. 'That's your logic?! Osiris you… you! Urg! You *twit*! I want a man to love me-- a HUMAN man, Osiris. Not a puppy! This--' she gestured wildly to the puppy, '--is not a man.'
Osiris rolled his cat-like eyes. 'All men are the same; I assure you. Just, take the flaming puppy and BE. HAPPY.'
The puppy bumped her leg, pinning the hem of her dress in a cheerful sploot. She met the tiny pup's golden gaze and immediately surrendered to his soundless plea for a cuddle. Evelyn gathered the black and white fluffball in her arms, kissing his forehead and smiling as he gleefully coated her chin in puppy-kisses. He smelt like freshly baked bread and pepper, his fur so soft she grabbed fistfuls of it before she could help herself.
'I'll keep him here as my companion, but I'm *not* leaving,' she said.
Osiris's frill flared in annoyance. 'You must leave; I need this room for the next princess I kidnap.'
'You have an entire castle, why the pit can't we share?'
Osiris pulled away from the window to spit a ball of flame in frustration. '*Because*,' he argued, 'you all require feeding and grooming and I'm only cut out to look after one princess at a time.'
'If you let me stay, I'll help you look after another princess,' Evelyn said. 'I had a little brother once, I used to help Nanny with him.'
Osiris twisted his head to examine her with a lava-red eye. 'I forgot you female humans have to raise the demonic spawns.'
'Momma dragons don't look after their babies?' She teased.
'**Stars** no,' Osiris snorted, 'that's my job. I kidnap princesses in-between heat seasons, but I'm not really in the clutch game anymore.'
His ancient gaze slid to the horizon and he sighed deeply, curls of smoke twisting through his fangs. 'Despite my efforts, all of my daughter are absolutely batshit crazy.'
The puppy barked with laughter and she snickered even as Osiris bared his fangs at her and raised the other slipper he'd been hiding.
~~this is my first ever post I'm sorry~~ | "But what will I do?" the princess asked.
The dragon said nothing, only laying down. The puppy pranced towards it, sniffed at the tail, and then cuddled by the belly of the beast.
After walking outside, the princess rushed back in, blinded by the first light of the outdoors that she had seen since childhood. Confusion still reigned, but the dragon became angry.
"Not only may you go, but you *must*!"
The dragon huffed, and the princess blew away. (Now she would probably go marry some human; how BORING.)
As the doors slammed shut, the dragon turned to the puppy and licked it. It barked playfully in return. True love, indeed. | |
[WP] A dragon kidnaps a princess. A decade passes. One day a puppy walks through her door. Seeing her confusion, the dragon says "all those knights came for lands and titles. He came for love. You are free to go." | The tower was made of black stone, harder than anything humans could shape. The core was a spiral staircase, leading up ten stories to a room where Francine stayed. The outward shape of the tower spread outward as it went further up, in defiance of need for balance. The top was decorated with long ledges and grooves in the stone for the dragon to perch, watching for approaching suitors.
Nigel the dragon was hundreds of feet long and resembled an immense red snake, albeit one with stubby wings every ten feet or so on its body. These wings marked the beginning and end of segments on its body, and during a battle with a knight, these segments could quickly be discarded on injury while the rest of the body reconnected. The only irreplaceable part was the head, which contained a pair of jaws massive enough to swallow a human without unhinging.
Nigel was curled around the tower when one day he saw a small dog approaching. It was brown and white, and wore a small suit of armor.
“Fran. Check this out.” Wild dogs often wandered by the tower to be devoured, but the armor made this particular one extremely cute.
Francine came to the window. She wore a pair of pink pajamas, fuzzy and well-worn. Her hair was blonde, and she hadn’t shaved any of it for about ten years. Her face was sleepy, in the way of someone who had no real responsibilities.
“Is that-” Francine wondered. She ran down the stairs to the door.
Nigel allowed himself to droop down. His coils remained bunched on the top of the tower, and he looked like a stretched piece of bubble gum.
“Barktholomew!” she yelled excitedly. “Nigel, this is my Forever Puppy. I’ve had him since I was a little girl.”
“That’s beautiful.” Nigel took a closer look at the armor. It was dinged up and scratched. It was hard to imagine the troubles a pet would have exploring the world on is own.
Nigel put on a serious voice. “Loyal, patient, and inspirational. His quest has moved me. You are free to go.”
Francine laughed hysterically. “Why would I want to go? I love you, and I have everything I could ever need here.”
Francine picked up Barktholomew and the little dog began wagging its tail furiously. “And now I have this little guy! Yes I do.” She snuggled him in her arms.
The dragon sighed internally. He had decided to adopt a human a decade ago. Raise it, teach it a few things, and eventually let a prince steal it. That’s what the brochure had said anyway. Instead, she had denied every potential rescuer, leaving him to eat them.
Lately, he had begun heralding every small development as the one true escape for the princess. It was no use. It was against dragon law to eat a princess you adopted, but if this lasted another six months, Nigel couldn’t deny he’d be tempted.
______________________________________________________
52/365. Constructive criticism welcome and appreciated. | "But what will I do?" the princess asked.
The dragon said nothing, only laying down. The puppy pranced towards it, sniffed at the tail, and then cuddled by the belly of the beast.
After walking outside, the princess rushed back in, blinded by the first light of the outdoors that she had seen since childhood. Confusion still reigned, but the dragon became angry.
"Not only may you go, but you *must*!"
The dragon huffed, and the princess blew away. (Now she would probably go marry some human; how BORING.)
As the doors slammed shut, the dragon turned to the puppy and licked it. It barked playfully in return. True love, indeed. | |
[WP] When humans landed on a habitable planet, they found a cute species, so they took them in as pets. After other aliens contact humans, they learn that the cute species was actually the most brutal and ruthless warmongering species in the galaxy. | Pockets of life are few and far between in the expansive void of space.
As humans began to venture further and further into the stars, each planet with new life was met with great enthusiasm. The magnificent, vibrant plant-life of Eden-36 soon became popular house plants. The glittering crustaceans of Atlantis Prime quickly became a fad for school children to collect and brag over – their rainbow variations a subject of great delight.
But by far, humanity's favourite discovery were the tribbles of Exodus-7. While they were named after the famous balls of fluff from the classic 'Star Trek', they had very little in common other than their masses of fur and prolific nature – and of course, the trilling purr.
When the UWE Wallace landed on Exodus-7, the zoologists and botanists were giddy with excitement. Giant dragonfly-esque creatures with mandibles, and fly trap like plants that rose from the water to snap them out of the air. Tiny bioluminescent bird-type creatures that sang in harmony, flashing coloured pattens to warn their flock of predators. Jungles bursting with flora and fauna and fruits – some of the latter proving a bit too tempting to the less experienced explorers and causing quite a few cases of an upset stomach. The biologists and pathologists were beside themselves, trying to collect and study all the microbial life – warning everyone that at the first sign of *anything* wrong to immediately report it, make their way to sick bay and avoid contact with others. But I digress, it was whole new food-chain to map and explore - an expansive planet, bursting with life of all kinds. To say the crew was excited about their discovery would be a *gross* understatement.
With such a hubbub going on, so many creatures to understand and log, it's not surprising they missed what would later be known as tribbles. In fact, it wasn't until the UWE Wallace *left* Exodus-7 that the first tribble was discovered, as a stowaway. Something that we later learned was an incredibly common thing, as the cavernous maw of an open Starship dock resembled the caves they birthed and reared their young in.
It was quite lucky indeed that the young Yeoman that stumbled across (what was later dubbed) Tim was an avid animal lover.
From the logs, Yeoman Francis had been securing sample crates in docking bay 4, preparing for warp, when he heard a low growl. Exiting his exo-hauler, he went to investigate. It should be noted that while this instance turned out well, he is held up as an example as what *not* to do in such circumstances these days.
Either way, out of bravery, stupidity or curiosity (most likely a combination of the three), Francis crept towards the sound in the partial shadows behind some of the fauna samples. When he rounded the corner of the storage unit, he was startled by a very large, rotund creature growling at him. It stood a metre tall and wide, it's body spherical in shape. It had three pairs of slanted, almond shaped eyes that were a deep black. It's lips were pulled back in a snarl, revealing rows of pointed teeth and a snake-like tongue. What originally looked like two tails, later revealed to be one bisected near the bottom, swished angrily behind it. It's fur was stiff and pointing out every which way, and as a result it's whiskers went unnoticed. Dual-pointed, flattened ears stood on either side of it's head, also nearly lost in the sheer mass of fur.
Francis stilled, taking a very tentative step back. The creature did not advance, nor did it back down. It seemed defensive rather than offensive, so Francis gingerly retreated a bit further, before tapping his com-unit.
“Uh, sir?”
“What is it Yeoman? Having trouble with the bio-units?”
“You could say that, sir.” Francis mumbled. “There's a creature loose down here, I didn't see it on the log.”
“What!?” His superior replied, alarmed. Francis later remarked he was never so grateful that replies aren't broadcast out loud for all to hear, as he was certain it would have startled Tim.
“Are you alright Yeoman? Is it aggressive?”
“I don't think so sir... it seems kind of scared. It's growling, but not attacking.” Again I will note, it is *very lucky* that Yeoman Francis was an avid animal lover. Most would *not* consider an aggravated tribble 'scared' – even if such a thing is now known to generally be true.
“I'll send a containment team down now. Get out of there as safely as you can, Yeoman.” Came his boss' curt voice.
Now, Francis *says* he was in the process of leaving – but the video logs clearly show him examining the tribble further instead. The creature was still posturing, feeling threatened. At Francis' lack of retreat, in an attempt to intimidate him, it took a step further – only to falter and crash to the ground.
It was then that Francis noted the purple blood smearing the floor around the area. The tribble's leg was injured, though the injury itself was impossible to see underneath the erect mass of hair.
Once again defying protocol, Francis edged closer to the tribble. The tribble attempted another growl, but it tapered off into a pitiful whimpering. Francis, emboldened, edged further carefully.
“Hey there you.” He cooed softly, arms held up in a gesture of non-aggression.
“It's okay little buddy, I'm not gonna' hurt you.” He gently called as he inched further. The tribble remained on the ground, growling softly but seeming unable to get up.
I would, again, like to note how *incredibly lucky* Yeoman Francis was. This tribble was severely malnourished, and as a result could not produce it's acid reflex to defend itself. Had it been a healthier specimen, the Yeoman would have likely found himself with third degree burns for his efforts at this point.
Instead, he reached the tribble's side. While these days we know how incredibly sensitive tribbles are to hormonal and chemical secretions, the Yeoman had no clue it would be able to read his intents so thoroughly. Still, madly, bravely, he reached out and stroked it to show he meant no harm. While the tribble's growling did not cease immediately, it did lower greatly.
With that, the Yeoman searched through the fur for the wound. It was a large gash, partially infected, on the tribble's foreleg. He removed his meditool from his belt, scanned the wounded being, and promptly sprayed a disinfectant and knitting solution on the wound.
As we all know, such things burn fiercely for a moment. The tribble reared itself up, a bellowing growl ripping from its throat, causing Francis to stumble backwards and land smack down on his ass. The tribble advanced to attack – only to stop short and freeze when it stepped on it's previously injured leg.
Hesitantly, it paused, tapping the leg against the ground again – and again. It sniffed the air – we assume scenting the air for aggression, and finding none. Then, to the Yeoman's great surprise, it began to deflate.
Francis remained frozen as the once huge, round ball of fur and growls shrunk down to a more lithe, ferret-esque shape. While still immeasurably fluffy, it's fur flattened and softened. It's whiskers were suddenly visible, and the tribble hopped about playfully – testing it's freshly healed leg. In a rather feline like response, it proceeded to saunter over and bump its head against Yeoman Francis' face.
Like Androcles and the Lion, by the time the containment team arrived the tribble and Francis were fast friends. They were quite stunned to discover the Yeoman sitting on the floor of the cargo bay quite happily. 'Tim' was wrapped partially around him purring the trilling purr that partially led to their naming, thoroughly enjoying being stroked.
Of course later that week it was later discovered 'Tim' was actually female, with the birth of her litter. However by that point that name was quite stuck. | "So, cats?"
The seemed to hold an expression that was both stunned and confused, both expressions they had already been holding but now in a more acute fashion. However, it was difficult to tell with how different they were from humans.
"You know of cats, yes? Perhaps I should describe them to you. You see, on our planet there was always war, in a sense. I always thought of it as a war of evolution. To survive, every living thing had to kill some other living thing, except for a small group almost entirely made up of plants, and even some of those would kill other living things to survive. This wasn't like a race where at the end there would be a winner. And the war wasn't about killing as many of the others as you could. It was instead about survival.
"Some things his as their survival tactic, others had defenses. From what I've learned of your society you tend to be diplomatic, rely on others to stay safe. Certainly that is what some on our planet did as well. But then there were the predators. The ones that stayed alive by being the toughest, by being able to kill with an amazing amount of skill, and by being able to fight off almost anything that might challenge them. The most impressive of these by a far measure, in my opinion at least, was the cat."
He took a moment to think and called someone over, whispering to them. They nodded a few times and left. "As you might imagine, many of these were large and fierce creatures. Some of the most famous to us were lions and tigers. These were cats as long as we were tall, sometimes bigger. They had large and sharp claws built for ripping animals like us apart, they had jaws that could near tear a man in two, and they had the instinct to kill us either as food or precaution."
The man who had been whispered to returned with what appeared to be photographs. The man handed them over and was dismissed with a wave, returning to his previous position. "Here, you can take a look at them." The other contorted in odd ways that the man speaking to him was not familiar with. He hadn't known of these others very long and wasn't certain what each of their movements meant. "That is a lion. There are legends going back millennia that we would sacrifice our enemies to them for one reason or another. Eventually, it was entertainment." He had expected a larger reaction from that, but the other seemed fixated on the images.
"Well, these big cats were impressive and able to kill with amazing efficiency. They liked to hunt silently, using stealth and speed to their advantage. They were some of the last animals that we overcame in our attempt to be the deadliest creatures on the planet, if you can even say we did." The man looked through the images he had in front of him and found what he was looking for. "This is a very old inscription that shows what appears to be cats and humans living together. We think they were revered, almost worshiped, by what was one of the most powerful human empires for a long stretch of history. The cats were smaller, but no less violent. They would hunt and kill, but they would also come to humans to be fed and cared for."
He took the images from the other and picked out a few more to share. "This is what a few thousand years of this did. Different breeds, but with almost all the same instincts. Some of them would attack humans almost relentlessly, but it was seen as, I suppose cute would be the best way to put it. They're no less killing machi, not machines, no less killing, er, creatures than their larger counterparts despite all that time, but we keep them as pets. We not only let them live in our houses but force them to. We feed them, give them water, and dictate where they defecate. Some show resistance, some show what appears to be unending love for this."
The other's whole self seemed to shake like a person when a shiver goes up their spine. "So these..." The man sighed and leaned forward over the table, licking his lips and trying to find the right words, "The species we found and adopted or were adopted by was not a new experience for us. You and I are able to communicate because, well, it seems you can communicate with almost anything. It seems to be a talent you have that no others we've found possess. But these, we didn't even know they could communicate in a manner as complex as we. We thought they were like cats. So we treated them like cats. And they, not being able to communicate directly with us, apparently treated us like servants. Or so I'm told."
He leaned back and sighed. Trying to explain human things to others always seemed difficult. These were the easiest as they always understood the most of any they had met. But it's like trying to explain war games to someone who had never heard of war. Why would you fight for fun? Well why would you take in tiny furry murderers and give them food and shelter?
"The best I can explain it is symbiosis. A mutual benefit. Humans have a need to care for things. And furry things, things we think of as cute, they actually make us healthier. Stronger. Better. These ones we've 'partnered' with are almost all living lives like their royalty once had. Their thirst for power and their drive for war is lessened when they have all they've ever wanted. Just like cats, some are more violent than others, and the large ones are often too much for us to handle. But they are happy and better for this life, and we are happy and better for giving them this life."
The other reviewed the images of the cats, large and small. When it finished, the mood in the room seemed to shift. The men standing around the room began to move and the man at the table was lead away to his room. Not long after that he was visited by another man. "What is the news? That seemed to end abruptly."
"Uh, I will need to review the documentation, but as far as everyone is concerned, it was a success. We are to be celebrated for bringing peace to the galaxy and quelling one of its greatest threats."
"So all is well?"
The man who had entered left his tongue against the roof of his mouth while his eyes seemed to search for something that wasn't there. He sighed a few times before biting his lip and finally looking up. "See, that was a success. But something new has come up. Apparently, we are to be celebrated for quelling the greatest threat known to the galaxy peacefully, but we are now to be tried for enslaving an intelligent species. The, uh, the short of it that I can find," the man, normally eloquent and collected, continuously paused and stammered through his explanation, "Is that your drawing parallels to house cats worked very well in them understanding that, uh, our, uh, our involvement with the," there was a long pause, "er, species in question was not one of warfare. But it painted cats as, er, well, uncertain. From what I understand, the trial will be less criminal and more informative. Cats, I can't believe I'm saying this, cats will be called in to testify to judge if they're worthy of the same rights as we and to consider if they've been subjugated."
The man began to laugh lightly. "This is not a laughing matter, er, er, sir. We are entirely uncertain of what the outcomes to such a, uh, a, an investigation might bring upon us."
"I'm, ha! I'm sorry. I'm just imagining one of the others trying to ask a cat about his owner. And the cat not knowing they were owned! Something along the lines of, 'Does your owner treat you well?' And then the cat would say something like, 'What owner? I am a noble hunter! I have killed many a floor skitterers in my day and earned my place!' 'I mean the one that cares for you. The one who,' 'The poop cleaner? The poop cleaner works for me! He cleans my poop!'"
The man doubled over in laughter at his own remarks while his visitor stood dumbfounded at the outburst. "Obviously you've gone mad."
"Just, just, hahahaha! Just imagine when they get to the vet! 'I DID NOT CONSENT TO THAT BEING PUT THERE!' HAHHAHAHAH HA HA HA HAAAAAA!"
Completely uneasy in the situation, the visitor straightened himself, "Get a hold of yourself man! This is serious. I'll return when you're more composed. I suggest you hurry about it, we don't know when next you'll be called upon." He left in a dignified huff as the man in the room continued laughing and reciting hypothetical question and answer between the cats and the others. | |
[WP] At age 18 a person chooses a God which they can call upon for help once a day. You chose the least popular God. | The light of the candles flickered in the circle around me, my only shield from the encroaching darkness of the temple.
"A petitioner." A voice hissed, reverberating in the tense silence. "How unexpected."
I tried to hold back my annoyance at the theatrics. *It's 2018, why candles?*
"I've come for answers." I demanded. "I seek knowledge."
It hissed. "It has been many years since I have had a priest. Are you ready to join the Great War?"
"I am." I nodded. "I pledge my service to you, Gatekeeper, if you agree to answer my calls as is traditional."
"I agree. Name your first question, my new Watchman."
I paused. I thought.
"O Lord Who Guards The Outer Gates," I said "What lies outside those Gates? Who is our enemy?"
The candles went out abruptly.
"The Adversary." The voice whispered urgently. "The Old Ones. They are what lies ahead. I cannot survive the war. Soon they will claim me... as they did the others." | An explosion rang out behind you as a taxi exploded, the door flying right by your head.
"Die you communist scum!" one of the Supply Side cultists cried out as he beat in the millennial's head with his rifle's butt. Around him other Marxism followers were executed as the daily walk to work through Hell Avenue sparked the third battle of the morning. A few shots range out as Patriots at Arms and their "honorable"deity, Trump, opened fire. The Supply side lines shattered as the tanks drove through the breach. Checking your watch, you saw you were 10 minutes late.
"Explain where you are before I find you can bring your head to Artemis!"
"Well, the cock suckers just got blasted to kingdom come by the cavalry after they tried to killed everyone not in their cult."
"Fine, you'll get a demerit for being late but you have an extra hour to find your way through that mess." By the way I'd avoid getting the usual Starbucks for everyone in the office, give that a skyscraper is about to collapse into us I'd say your about to r..." the call ended as dust blew through the streets with enough force to flip some of the lighter truck the Patriots brought with them this time.
"GODDESS SAVES ME!" You scream as a chunk of the building you're sitting began to fall towards you.
"Now that strung." you say as you look at the glass embedded into the ground all around you. One chunk of pane had almost took off your head if weren't for Lady Luck's protection. Now if only the Spanish Inquisition's horn hadn't rung out in the distance behind you.
---
This was certainly an open prompt. | |
[WP] At age 18 a person chooses a God which they can call upon for help once a day. You chose the least popular God. | CHAPTER ONE.
 
I had been pouring through the list of Gods for months, cross-referencing and double checking my notes every time I had a couple of minutes to spare. Most of my friends thought I was crazy for taking my Decision Day so seriously, but I knew I only had one chance to get it right, so I had to be sure.
"Have you really not chosen one yet Kate? I made my choice aaaaages ago! And my birthday isn't until June!" Amy prodded my ribs as I pulled my note book out to re-check a few names. She was going to choose the God of Music, just like her mother, her two aunts, and three of her older sisters, and she'd already told everyone at least twice. For a day or so she'd pretended to be *thinking about it* and she threw a few other names into the mix as though she couldn't make up her mind. But we all knew she'd go with Apollo in the end. It was tradition for the women in her family, and for some families, tradition was more important than choosing a God who actually suited your interests or ambitions. Amy didn’t even play a musical instrument.
There was no way I was choosing my God based on my parent's choices though. Mum had chosen Leto, the Goddess of Motherhood, because she had wanted to be a midwife. And Dad went with Pontus, one of the Gods of the Sea, because he was really into surfing when he turned 18. But both of those Gods were too popular, so they wouldn't work for me. The popular Gods got hundreds and even thousands of pledges a year, which meant they were always busy with everybody else's problems.
So I searched through all the old books and found the names of every God on the register, even the really obscure ones that most people had forgotten about. And I combed through all the Decision Day documents and cross-referenced with records from the Registry of the Deceased. And I was pretty sure I’d found one, but I had to be sure. I had 6 minutes before I had to announce my choice, so I had time to check my notes once more.
“Seriously Kate, they’re going to call your name any minute now! Why don’t you just go with Artemis? You love animals, and maybe she could help you get into the Vet Science course you were talking about!”
“I’m not choosing Artemis, Amy, I’ve told you already. Just gimme a sec, ok? Just shhhh for a minute.” I thumbed back and forth between pages. I was almost 100% certain, and that would have to do, because Amy was right, and I actually had run out of time.
And then, right on cue…
“Kate Amelia Cottle?” The slightly hunched man with a clipboard called my name from the front of the room. “You’re up love,” he said warmly as I lifted my eyes to meet his. I walked up to him with my notes clutched to my chest, leaving Amy behind because you weren’t allowed to take anyone with you, and he ushered me into Decision Day Chamber Six on the left.
“Do you know what to do love? Any older brothers or sisters told you what’s what?”
“Yeh, I’m fine thanks. I know what to do.”
“Ok then, I’ll be right outside when you’re done.” He left me then, standing in the small chamber on my own, in front of a desk with an enormous book on it. I picked up the quill to fill out the blank sections on the open page in front of me.
*I, _______________________, on this the day of my 18th birthday, do choose the following God or Goddess to be my guide and helper for the remainder of my mortal life.*
I wrote my name carefully in the space provided, and then spelled out the name of my chosen deity in the next box.
“Laneana.” I said it outloud as I wrote it, though I wasn’t sure if I was pronouncing it correctly.
I scribbled my signature on the line at the bottom of the page, and then I waited. But I only had to wait a moment. Laneana appeared in front of me, facing the wrong way. She (she was a she) spun around and stared at me with a perplexed look on her face.
“Who are you? What’s going on?”
“Hi, I’m Kate. I’ve chosen you to be my God. I mean Goddess.”
“You’re a Pledge? Why? No one chooses me!” She was pretty, and very slight, wearing a plain red pinafore style dress. She looked very young, but of course she was thousands of years old.
“Well, I’ve chosen you.” I didn’t really know what else to say. I knew we only had a few minutes to talk, though hopefully longer than most. The popular Gods sometimes took ages to appear, but Laneana had appeared almost immediately, so hopefully I would get a few more minutes before anyone thought to come knocking.
“But why? I haven’t had a Pledge in 170 years!”
“176 years,” I corrected her automatically, and then immediately regretted my rudeness.
“Ok, so you’ve done your homework.” She was wary of me, but she didn’t seem angry. She crossed her arms in front of her chest.
“I chose you because I knew you didn’t have any other Pledges.”
“Want me all to yourself, hey?”
“Yes.” She had been kidding, trying to lighten the mood, but I wasn’t. That was exactly why I’d chosen her.
“Ok then. Well, I haven’t done this in a while. I guess you need help protecting your Gallaecian gold?”
“I’m sorry?”
She snorted softly. “Yeh, I didn’t think so.”
“Oh, you’re the God of Gallaecian Gold?” I struggled with the alliteration. “I mean Goddess? I only found your name, I didn’t know what you presided over.” I looked down as I said it, embarrassed to be standing in front of this ancient Goddess that I knew nothing about. I hadn’t even known if she was a God or a Goddess! The only thing I really knew about her was that no one else knew who she was. Laneana had been forgotten, lost to the pages of old record books in dusty filing cabinets.
“So why am I here? What you want?” She was getting annoyed, and I didn’t want our first conversation to end on a sour note.
“Well, I need your help. And most of the Gods are so busy, and I needed someone who would be, available, and had, time, to… help.” I’d planned my choice so carefully but I hadn’t planned this bit. I was tripping over my words and fumbling with my notes, trying to work out how to explain myself.
“Ok, well let me check my diary!” She mocked flipping pages in the air in front of her. “Hmm, maybe if I move a few things around, and swap that to Tuesday… yep, I’m free, every single day until the end of time!” She pretended to slam her imaginary diary shut and gave me a sarcastic smile. “So what do you need Kate?”
I swallowed hard, and took a deep breath before I opened my mouth again.
“I need to kill the President of the Federated States, and I need you to help me do it.”
“Hu.” She paused for a long time, just staring at me with her pale blue eyes. “Ok then.” Her smile shifted from sarcastic to devilish. “As you know, I do have some free time up my sleeve, so I guess I can fit you into my schedule.” We both turned our heads as a knock came at the door. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” She was beaming at me now. Apparently I’d chosen well, and relief washed over me as she disappeared just as the door opened.
“How’d you go love? Have they visited yet?” My clipboard man was back to check on me.
“Yes, all done!” I picked up my notebook and papers and moved towards him.
“Already? Gosh, most of them can’t get here that quickly! Who’d you choose?” He led me on to the Celebration Hall where Amy and my family would be waiting for me.
“Laneana.”
“Who?” he asked, and I smiled. Everything was falling into place.
 
***
EDIT: Thanks so much for your feedback guys! I hadn't planned on writing anything more on this story, but you got me thinking... so I've written 2 more chapters. I've added them as replies to this post (I haven't done follow up chapters before, not sure if this is the best way to do it?) Would love to have more feedback, and I hope you enjoy reading a little bit more of this story. And hopefully I'll get time to write some more over the next week, and I can follow up with chapters 4 and 5. | The clink of glasses, the tinkle of earrings, the cackle of laughter. All of it, forced.
It was all necessary enough, horribly so: there were deals to be made, contracts to sign, and no sane person would ever acknowledge that profit was the driving factor behind them. So, you pretend to make friends, they pretend to be friends with you and, if you can keep up the façade (and everyone derives some benefit from it), all is well.
But you can’t help but wonder, is it worth it? As your laughter rings hollow, as empty as your glass, you can’t resist pondering the question. For while the material benefit you receive is great, time has left you feeling as if it isn’t worth much of anything.
Not that She thinks otherwise, though you’ve asked Her many a time to withdraw Her blessings. Yet they shower upon you, in waves as specious as their results, for you are the only one of Her followers.
Why did you pick Her, as your deity of choice, back when you hit your eighteenth year? A tear nearly comes to your eye as you remember, but you’ve too long been used to your every action evoking nothing in the way of emotions, so you don’t bother. Instead, your mind briefly flashes to your desire to avoid your mother. As if she’d have anything to do with you now.
The candles dim, the evening draws to a close. As the shadows lengthen and seek to consume you, your partners of convenience give their regrets, and depart: the hour is too late for them. You will be up for many hours still. It’s not that which stalks the night that haunts you, but what awaits in the light.
She leaves last, giving you one final, luminiferous smile, a smile that doesn’t *quite* reach Her eyes. It never *quite* does, not with Lari, god of Insincere Friendships.
---------------------------------
Feedback appreciated! I'm experimenting with a new style, so apologies for any weird wording. | |
[WP] At age 18 a person chooses a God which they can call upon for help once a day. You chose the least popular God. | CHAPTER ONE.
 
I had been pouring through the list of Gods for months, cross-referencing and double checking my notes every time I had a couple of minutes to spare. Most of my friends thought I was crazy for taking my Decision Day so seriously, but I knew I only had one chance to get it right, so I had to be sure.
"Have you really not chosen one yet Kate? I made my choice aaaaages ago! And my birthday isn't until June!" Amy prodded my ribs as I pulled my note book out to re-check a few names. She was going to choose the God of Music, just like her mother, her two aunts, and three of her older sisters, and she'd already told everyone at least twice. For a day or so she'd pretended to be *thinking about it* and she threw a few other names into the mix as though she couldn't make up her mind. But we all knew she'd go with Apollo in the end. It was tradition for the women in her family, and for some families, tradition was more important than choosing a God who actually suited your interests or ambitions. Amy didn’t even play a musical instrument.
There was no way I was choosing my God based on my parent's choices though. Mum had chosen Leto, the Goddess of Motherhood, because she had wanted to be a midwife. And Dad went with Pontus, one of the Gods of the Sea, because he was really into surfing when he turned 18. But both of those Gods were too popular, so they wouldn't work for me. The popular Gods got hundreds and even thousands of pledges a year, which meant they were always busy with everybody else's problems.
So I searched through all the old books and found the names of every God on the register, even the really obscure ones that most people had forgotten about. And I combed through all the Decision Day documents and cross-referenced with records from the Registry of the Deceased. And I was pretty sure I’d found one, but I had to be sure. I had 6 minutes before I had to announce my choice, so I had time to check my notes once more.
“Seriously Kate, they’re going to call your name any minute now! Why don’t you just go with Artemis? You love animals, and maybe she could help you get into the Vet Science course you were talking about!”
“I’m not choosing Artemis, Amy, I’ve told you already. Just gimme a sec, ok? Just shhhh for a minute.” I thumbed back and forth between pages. I was almost 100% certain, and that would have to do, because Amy was right, and I actually had run out of time.
And then, right on cue…
“Kate Amelia Cottle?” The slightly hunched man with a clipboard called my name from the front of the room. “You’re up love,” he said warmly as I lifted my eyes to meet his. I walked up to him with my notes clutched to my chest, leaving Amy behind because you weren’t allowed to take anyone with you, and he ushered me into Decision Day Chamber Six on the left.
“Do you know what to do love? Any older brothers or sisters told you what’s what?”
“Yeh, I’m fine thanks. I know what to do.”
“Ok then, I’ll be right outside when you’re done.” He left me then, standing in the small chamber on my own, in front of a desk with an enormous book on it. I picked up the quill to fill out the blank sections on the open page in front of me.
*I, _______________________, on this the day of my 18th birthday, do choose the following God or Goddess to be my guide and helper for the remainder of my mortal life.*
I wrote my name carefully in the space provided, and then spelled out the name of my chosen deity in the next box.
“Laneana.” I said it outloud as I wrote it, though I wasn’t sure if I was pronouncing it correctly.
I scribbled my signature on the line at the bottom of the page, and then I waited. But I only had to wait a moment. Laneana appeared in front of me, facing the wrong way. She (she was a she) spun around and stared at me with a perplexed look on her face.
“Who are you? What’s going on?”
“Hi, I’m Kate. I’ve chosen you to be my God. I mean Goddess.”
“You’re a Pledge? Why? No one chooses me!” She was pretty, and very slight, wearing a plain red pinafore style dress. She looked very young, but of course she was thousands of years old.
“Well, I’ve chosen you.” I didn’t really know what else to say. I knew we only had a few minutes to talk, though hopefully longer than most. The popular Gods sometimes took ages to appear, but Laneana had appeared almost immediately, so hopefully I would get a few more minutes before anyone thought to come knocking.
“But why? I haven’t had a Pledge in 170 years!”
“176 years,” I corrected her automatically, and then immediately regretted my rudeness.
“Ok, so you’ve done your homework.” She was wary of me, but she didn’t seem angry. She crossed her arms in front of her chest.
“I chose you because I knew you didn’t have any other Pledges.”
“Want me all to yourself, hey?”
“Yes.” She had been kidding, trying to lighten the mood, but I wasn’t. That was exactly why I’d chosen her.
“Ok then. Well, I haven’t done this in a while. I guess you need help protecting your Gallaecian gold?”
“I’m sorry?”
She snorted softly. “Yeh, I didn’t think so.”
“Oh, you’re the God of Gallaecian Gold?” I struggled with the alliteration. “I mean Goddess? I only found your name, I didn’t know what you presided over.” I looked down as I said it, embarrassed to be standing in front of this ancient Goddess that I knew nothing about. I hadn’t even known if she was a God or a Goddess! The only thing I really knew about her was that no one else knew who she was. Laneana had been forgotten, lost to the pages of old record books in dusty filing cabinets.
“So why am I here? What you want?” She was getting annoyed, and I didn’t want our first conversation to end on a sour note.
“Well, I need your help. And most of the Gods are so busy, and I needed someone who would be, available, and had, time, to… help.” I’d planned my choice so carefully but I hadn’t planned this bit. I was tripping over my words and fumbling with my notes, trying to work out how to explain myself.
“Ok, well let me check my diary!” She mocked flipping pages in the air in front of her. “Hmm, maybe if I move a few things around, and swap that to Tuesday… yep, I’m free, every single day until the end of time!” She pretended to slam her imaginary diary shut and gave me a sarcastic smile. “So what do you need Kate?”
I swallowed hard, and took a deep breath before I opened my mouth again.
“I need to kill the President of the Federated States, and I need you to help me do it.”
“Hu.” She paused for a long time, just staring at me with her pale blue eyes. “Ok then.” Her smile shifted from sarcastic to devilish. “As you know, I do have some free time up my sleeve, so I guess I can fit you into my schedule.” We both turned our heads as a knock came at the door. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” She was beaming at me now. Apparently I’d chosen well, and relief washed over me as she disappeared just as the door opened.
“How’d you go love? Have they visited yet?” My clipboard man was back to check on me.
“Yes, all done!” I picked up my notebook and papers and moved towards him.
“Already? Gosh, most of them can’t get here that quickly! Who’d you choose?” He led me on to the Celebration Hall where Amy and my family would be waiting for me.
“Laneana.”
“Who?” he asked, and I smiled. Everything was falling into place.
 
***
EDIT: Thanks so much for your feedback guys! I hadn't planned on writing anything more on this story, but you got me thinking... so I've written 2 more chapters. I've added them as replies to this post (I haven't done follow up chapters before, not sure if this is the best way to do it?) Would love to have more feedback, and I hope you enjoy reading a little bit more of this story. And hopefully I'll get time to write some more over the next week, and I can follow up with chapters 4 and 5. | "Heeeyyy, sooooo ..." I winced at the familiar voice, not even bothering to hide my annoyance anymore. "What'cha up to, buddy?"
*Buddy.* He had grown fond of that term ever since I had explained it to him, all those months ago. The word 'buddy' had lost all camaraderie every since he had taken it upon himself to say it at *least* once a minute. But he just adored using all these 'adorable, new mortal terms!' His words, not mine.
I took a spatula out of the drawer. "Dinner," I answered shortly.
"Cool, cool." He liked that word, too. There was a pause before he continued, "Neeeeed any help?"
"Nope."
Another blessed pause. For a moment, I dared to think that his attention had wandered away from me.
"You know, I don't think I've ever seen you cook steak before." As I had suspected, he was in a talkative mood, already settling down for a long chat. And believe me, it is a lot harder to ignore a voice speaking directly into your ear than you think - not to mention the fact that he hated when I didn't reply to him, and would annoy me to death until I spoke up again.
Yeah. It had been a long few months.
"That's because I haven't," I said, poking at the steak with my spatula.
"Ooh, exciting! Trying something new! Good luck!" Augh, he just *loved* bringing up luck, given that he was a minor deity of it. My 18-year-old self had thought that was a good thing, but in reality, he just brought it up any chance he got without giving me much of any.
"Thanks," I grunted. It had been three minutes, so I wormed the spatula under the steak to flip it over.
"You know ..." he said in a thoughtful way, "you might mess it up. You've never made it before, after all. You could ask me to make sure it gets made perfectly!"
"I'm fine. Thanks." I eyed the clock on the stove. Five minutes to seven - good, I wanted the steak to still be hot when she got here.
"Come on. Caius. Caiiiius." I gritted my teeth; his way of speaking always got on my nerves quickly. "I have nothing better to do. I have *nothing* to do, actually!"
"I can make it myself."
"What makes you think that?" he prodded.
I glared at the sizzling steak, not that any of this was its fault. "I watched some videos on how to cook it. I'll be fine."
"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?" he said coyly, making me want to scream. I wouldn't have to make a case for my competence if he wasn't constantly pestering me about it! "Come onnnn. I'll even do this as a free favor! You'll still have your daily assistance!"
"Caerus," I growled. Yeah, that's right. The only reason I picked this deity was because I just chose one that was most similar to my name - make fun of me if you want, I wasn't a creative 18-year-old. "I'm *fine*."
"Woah, look who's a little cranky!" He laughed, while I wished I could smack his face with the spatula. "But hey, if you need to let out your anger, I could help you with tha--"
"You can help me by leaving me alone for the rest of the night!" I snapped, just as the doorbell rang. My eyes darted to the clock; she was three minutes early. Frantically, I checked my hair in my reflection on the microwave, then hurried to the door, spatula still in hand.
Mercifully, Caerus seemed to left me alone, so I was able to open the door with a smile on my face. Isabel looked stunning, as always, and she threw her arms around me to greet me with a deep kiss. I returned it with equal enthusiasm before she pulled away to step inside, looking around.
"Wow, so this is your apartment? It's so clean!" she said, slipping off her shoes.
"Well, I couldn't have you walking into a pigsty," I joked, all my previous tension and anger slipping away. "Want a tour? It'll only take a minute, but ..."
"Um, Caius ..." I glanced back at Isabel, and she pointed to the kitchen doorway. "Is there *supposed* to be that much smoke?"
I stared blankly at the cloud of smoke pouring from the kitchen, before cursing louder than I wanted to and running to the stove. I had left the stove on when I went to answer the door, and in that seemingly short time, the steak had completely blackened on one side. Had I really left the stove this high? Gods, it was utterly and completely ruined - our perfect, home-cooked dinner was now an overcooked, burnt mess.
Isabel had come into the kitchen behind me, and now slipped her arms around my waist. "It's okay, babe."
"I'm sorry, I wanted t--"
"Don't worry about it!" she said, somehow managing to sound chipper. "We can just order pizza or something. As long as I'm spending time with you, I'm happy."
I smiled and bent to kiss her forehead, but my eyes were still focused on the steak. Had I left the stove that high? No, the steak shouldn't have burnt that fast. There was mischief at work here, and I knew whose it was.
However, I had some revenge in mind.
When Isabel fell asleep halfway through the movie, her head resting on my shoulder, I dug out my phone from my pocket. Scrolling through my contacts list, I selected the name of the most annoying person I knew.
My little brother picked up the phone in two seconds. "Caius! Hey braaah! Hah, literally. Haha, that's so funny. Annnnyway, wassup?"
I smirked to myself. "So, I know your eighteenth birthday is coming up, and I think I've found the god for you."
***
Another little fun story! Similar in vein to one I wrote yesterday, but I guess I'm in that sort of mood. :) Had the idea of a god with nothing to do, constantly pestering the MC ... had to write it, haha. Thanks for the prompt, and if you liked this, feel free to look at r/lycheewrites ~ | |
[removed] | [WP] During a costume party, “Alladin” rubs his lamp and for everyone's surprise, a real genie appears. Then he wishes for self-refueling booze glasses, unlimited supply of recreational drugs and that people become their choice of costume. You went dressed only with your elephant trunk underpants. | I had never been so relieved in my life. A genie that not only wasn't a spiteful asshole but also wasn't to-the-letter literal in granting wishes. "Their choice" of costume hadn't been taken to its literal meaning of what you were wearing at this minute but *what would have willingly chosen*. The next few minutes were a hopeless blur in my memories...but as I sat on the rooftop everything was clear. Literally. All my senses weren't just on overdrive, they had been made whole. Both my eyes were seeing 20/10 instead of having one eye having fair sight and one that couldn't see long distance for beans. The constant ringing in my ears was gone.
Those had been wondrous enough. But the wings on my back...now THAT was truly a gift to be treasured. Cream-colored like the rest of my half-alicorn form, with white tips. When folded up across my back they felt somewhat like a big fuzzy backpack and when I'd dared to unfold them I trembled with excitement. These weren't cutesy little cartoon wings that might let me flutter around for a few seconds. Oh no - these wings were for capital-F long distance **flying**.
As I was contemplating my new form, I heard a scream come from a room below me. Of course. It had been only a matter of time before the profoundly idiotic combination of endless alcohol with endless drugs had resulted in violence, tragedy or both. My short respite was officially over and it would not do to be around when the inevitable parade of ambulances, police, newscrews and gawkers started to arrive. I'd worked too damn hard to have a spotless legal record.
It took all my willpower not to vault into the air and soar away, but the rational part of my mind warned me not to try out a skill I'd just gained an hour ago. My new form likely didn't come with invincibility if my aching shin was any indication. And as a seven-foot anthropomorphic alicorn couldn't very well walk around the streets of Omaha without drawing attention.
The long walk back to my car felt like the "long mile" when I'd been sent to the principal's office as a child. At any moment I expected an ominously black van to round the corner or a tabloid reporter to jump out from behind a street sign. But I managed to keep my pace to a semi-casual saunter as I heard the first siren begin heading in the general direction of the party I'd left behind. Lord only knew what they'd find there, or what would inevitably be uploaded to social media in a day or so. But that was all out of my control. Best to just get the hell out of Dodge and to somewhere that I could give myself a physical. | Hi there, this post has been removed.
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[WP]God looked down on Earth and saw how outdated his world was. He decided it could use monthly updates and starts a devblog to keep humanity up to date on the changes. | Hey everyone! G0d here! Thanks for taking interest in my dev blog! You can find the updates below:
01/2018 | v. 1.30
* Fixed the ozon layer bug. All holes are gone and the thickness is restored to the one in version 1.00
* Cell regeneration has been updated, cancerous cells should be happen way less.
* Added 10 new fish species with great nutritious value to counter the excessive fishing
* Fixed some bugs in the AI, but I am planning a big overhaul in the future!
11/2018 | v. 1.33
* Sorry for the long wait. The AI is trickier than I thought, will keep you updated
* For now I cleaned up some chemical reactions, so less harmful byproducts are produced
03/2019 | v. 1.35
* Realised 7 of the 10 new species of fish are already extinct again, recreated them with a higher reproduction factor
* Growth of trees is now 8 times quicker, should be helpful with a lot of resources
09/2019 | v. 1.40
* The AI is still one huge mess. I will focus on it for the next couple of months
* Restored a lot of mineral resources
06/2020 | v. 1.41
* There have been major developments. After struggling with the older AI, especially the energy & resource consumption, as well as the personality formation (to be honest, a lot of characters are just aweful) I decided to create a whole new AI! Will keep you posted.
12/2020 | v. 1.50
* I am excited to announce that the new AI *homo sapiens bonitas* has been finished. It will be implemented in version 2.00 and the old one will be deleted.
* Will probably swipe the old AI completely to prevent a merging of the two
02/2021 | v. 2.00
* New AI has been implemented and I expect everything to run smoothly from now on.
06/2021 | v. 2.10
* Fixed minor issues that have appeared after the last major update. Everything has been running smoothly.
* There will be no more updates in the future. For this project is finished! Thanks for the journey!
| Hey guys, this months update is a big one so get ready.
-Added ten million, eight hundred thousand more players this month, while purging four million, four hundred thousand. Rest in peace.
-Reworked math to undo the light speed barrier, in preparation for Elon Musk's Mars DLC, this should dramatically decrease loading times when fast travelling to the planet.
-Bug that could have lead to the destruction of all mankind has been patched.
-After many requests I will be adding a International Opposite Day, might put it the day before April Fools, still undecided. | |
[WP] Everyone has a string attached to them. Not physically, but metaphorically. The string twists and turns through life, your soulmate is on the other end. But, what happens when after an accident, you can see everyone's string? | It was a difficult thing for me to accept. I remember waking up in the hospital bed and everything looked *different* somehow. I couldn’t put my finger on it at first - I thought it must be the morphine, or whatever they were pumping me full of.
After a few weeks, I finally realized what was off. Above each person’s head, a thin, glimmering string. Almost like a spider’s web, these strings stretched to the sky. *Where do they go?* I wondered.
I finally realized what the strings meant on my way out of the hospital. I had become used to them by this point, and considered them to be just a trick of the mind due to hitting my head in the accident. As I was wheeled to the front doors by my father, I saw my first connection.
A door open to a room on the unit. In the bed, a man, or what was left of him. He was so pale, so emaciated. He was dying.
Beside him sat a woman. His wife? One of her hands grasped his; the other to her mouth, stifling her sobs. Above their heads, the shortest strings I had seen yet... because they shared a string. Just as long as they were far apart, their string glistened like the tears on the woman’s face. It was at that moment I realized what the strings represented.
The string tied people to their soulmate.
The realization left me feeling like I’d been punched in the gut, knowing this woman was losing her soulmate. It was startling.
It got worse as time went on. More terrible realizations came. When I got home, seeing that my parents weren’t connected, that was just about the worst of it. It took me a while to recover from that. Almost as bad was seeing friends, neighbours, family members... their strings. Mr. Duncan down the street, his string connected to Mrs. Lewis next door. Couples in the supermarket who didn’t connect. Driving by weddings, and seeing that the newly weds didn’t connect. Widows and widowers at the cemetery, the string on their heads linked to the grave they kneeled at. It was upsetting.
Seeing those who did connect almost made up for all the sadness. Grandma and Grandpa connected to each other. My friend Brian and his new girlfriend, Anna, who he’d known since kindergarten - they connected. After time, even seeing Dad connected to Ms. Larson at the bakery brought a little joy.
All of this was nothing to me, eventually. I tried intercepting a few times, playing matchmaker for those whose strings connected. Most people rolled their eyes when I told them they’d be a good match. They always thanked me later and asked me how I was so good at setting people up together, but always remained single. I laughed, but there was a reason.
The hardest pill to swallow - the worst thing of all - was every time I looked in a mirror, a reflective surface, anything... I was reminded that I did not have a string above my head. | I could see them, the threads, weaving together the cloth of life. It wrapped us in a cocoon, like we did with the threads we could touch, from birth to death they made us feel comfortable. They accompanied us, light as a feather, a warm breath would sway them like the crest of a wave. And the only thing which stopped them was cold death. Unraveling in a sea of red. Straight. Afraid.
They made me do things, the threads. I had to free them from their caged form. Sometimes caught in an iris, the thin wisps drawn from center to boundary. This time I discovered a web of electricity, and interwoven by thoughts and dreams I could see it in pieces, tied back together as one single strand.
They lead the path of every person, the path of time caught in space. Not straight enough, I had to straighten them. I had to fix the perturbations, change the dimension. Time should not preserve the path embedded in space, it should travel along the string. The white string, restricting me. I was bound by the string. I could feel the cocoon hatch. I could hear the wave break in the distance, my arms pulled at the string but they could not move. My fingers could feel the frayed edge at my wrist. Jacket.
| |
[WP] You die in your girlfriends arms after saving her from a careless driver. Suddenly you wake up in your bed, completely healed and your clothes fixed. You look over and see death sitting at your desk. “Okay hear me out,” it says. “I’ve been playing this video game, and I wanna try something...” | "How do you feel about playing the role of death for the next several days?"
Still in shock from what just happened, I muster, "What?"
The tall shadowy figure hovers towards me in a graceful manner, "Listen i know its a lot to throw at you but i am tired of my day job and i want to experience what its like to be a human being for a day or two.
I still cannot trust my senses so I close my eyes roll over and try to fall asleep. I can feel a freezing sensation begin to creep over my body starting from my toes and progressing towards my hip. I open my eyes and see a hooded figure balancing itself on what seems to be a scythe.
"Call me crazy but if being a human is anything like this video game I have been playing it feels like humans have endless possibilities."
My thumbs begin to scruff my eyes in a way which disorients my eyesight even further.
"I want to wake up one morning and decide to go on a heart throbbing hike. I want to have an inner circle who i spend my weekends going out with to the local pub. I want to have a day job where I gossip about how harsh the judges treated judy on her performance."
The robed outline gets up and rests his chin on his drained boney fingers and begins to ponder as it gazes out the window into the abyss.
"But most importantly i want to have a tiger striped kitten named Snuggles who i spoil with millions of toys, treats, and attention."
I desperately attempt to speak but the only thoughts my mind can produce are ones about the crash. My senses are stuck at the crash sight. My eyes cannot shake the glistening tear falling from Dorothy's ocean blue eye. My nostrils still hold the smell of pungent gasoline and suffocating smoke. Defeating the asphyxia I muster, "Where am I?"
The grim figure restores its menacing stance and announces, "You're in between life and death."
I pleaded,"Please send me back to my original life! My girlfriend and i are awaiting a baby and i must be present for my son's birth."
The shadowy outline stood still.
"I may be able to pull a couple a strings for you but for a small cost. What would you say if i told you i can return you to your original life but you would have to perform death's duties for a few days?
"Death's duties?" I cringingly asked.
The floating image responded,"Yes!" It isn't that bad actually aside from spending most of your days at retirement homes the job holds really good perks."
I lay still in disbelief. I desperately implore, "Please please send me back i cannot be death. i have to be there for dorothy and my unborn son. I promise to be more careful when im behind the wheel. i promise to help the poor and call my mother everyday. i promise i promise i promise!"
The shadowy figure leaves its menacing stance and floats over to the side of my bed and yells, "Listen kid im going to take over your life whether you like it or not question is who is going to help me perform my duties whilst i enjoy a sunday float by the beach? If you help me now i will help you later. whaddya say?
| Ian woke to the smell of smoke and the taste of sulfur. Warmth flooded his skin, but it wasn’t exactly pleasant. He blinked his eyes open, lungs begging for clean air, but only getting more smoke in answer. He sat upright and looked out into the room through tears. This was not his room, nor his home, but those thoughts came scattered as he took in the fire that lapped at the wooden walls. Smoke pooled form under the door in curling wisps. The building was on fire.
He jumped up from the bed and then stumbled to the ground, his head going fuzzy and it felt like his limbs wouldn’t listen anymore.
“Not the best of ideas, kiddo.” He looked to his right to find black fabric taking up his vision. “It takes time to get use to new parts.”
He coughed as he looked up the fabric and realized it was a cloak.
The woman knelt down beside him, face as pale as bone and eyes golden like a dog’s. Those eyes traveled his face while white lips curved into a devilish smile. “You’ve come out well. I have such trouble with creating characters. Should have seen the last guy I brought here. Looked like someone had smacked him with a frying pan a couple dozen times.”
“Who—what?”
She pushed back ashen hair as she looked at the room. “I wish we had picked a different starting location. This kingdom has been taking a hellish beating as of late. Worlds all over the dimensions are falling apart lately, kiddo.” He felt her hands grab his shoulders and lift him up as if he weighed nothing. “Did not expect the kingdom to be burning when we arrived, but, that’s what makes it fun. Come now, I’ll get us somewhere we can breathe for a bit.” She giggled as she moved toward the window. “Well, so you can. I haven’t had a breath of air in a very long time.”
She threw open the shutters and a sea of flame and smoke rode the horizon, painting the world in black and orange. He had only a moment to take it in before she held him by the waist and then she leapt through the window. He yelled as the buildings were left far below them, the haze of smoke obscuring his vision until they broke through the clouds.
The moon was full, but broken, chucks of it floating away. The sky was a purple blue with pinpricks of stars twinkling against it. He felt the chill of the night on his skin and it licked away the sweat that came from the fire. He was so amazed that it took him a moment to realize they were falling back to the city. He closed his eyes, screamed, and waited for the impact.
“Oh, come now. You’re gonna need to man up some if you’re gonna get anywhere.” He opened his eyes and found large blocks of stone below him. She dropped him and he landed with a thud. “Jeeze, will you get up? I don’t got all night. I’m a busy girl.”
“What the hell is going on?” Ian asked as he pushed himself up and sat down and looked around. His breath caught at the scene before him, a forest of trees that seemed to run toward a mountain range capped with snow. It looked like something out of a fantasy book cover. “Shit—where the hell am I?”
The woman sat beside him with a heavy sigh. She made a tutting sound as she dug into her bag. “This is my least favorite part, but I guess I gotta be the wise man—woman—whatever. Look, I’ve been around since there was just black. I was the responsible one, so I had to witness baby brother’s creation. I got to sit there while he dinked around with his little ant farm. I was there for support when it went to shit and there to cheer when it went well, but what did I get? Not a break, that’s for damn sure. He grew bored of his little game on Earth and moved on. So, I did what big sisters always do. I cleaned up his mess.” She made an ah-ha sound and pulled out a pipe and began to pack it with brown dried leaves. She placed the end of the pipe between her teeth and lit the pot at the other end.
She took a deep breath of the smoke and then blew it out in a ring. “I get to be a glorified taxi driver. But ain’t no one happy to see me, kiddo. They all fight and squirm, like I’m somehow gonna say ‘Oh, sorry, was all a mistake!’ Bah-ha, like I’d ever do that.” She put her arms around her knees and pulled them to her chest. The smoke from the pipe threaded between her white lips. “Listen to me, blabbering on. You don’t want to hear this.”
“I—I just want to know what’s going on.” Ian said. He was unable to look away from her, from the sad look on her face. She turned her golden eyes to him and seemed to force a smile.
“Sometimes I just want to feel like a hero, ya know? But I can’t do that in my job, but you, you hairless little apes, you make these wonderful stories. Stories of adventure, romance, death and life. Conquering all and ripping some kind of meaning from the darkness. I’ve loved your stories, but your recent little inventions have just taken over my mind.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a laptop, the item so out of place that Ian didn’t recognize it at first.
“I’ve found I’m in love with RPGs. Been playing this one for years now. There was just so much to do and I love the rustic nature of just…everything. Well, I finished all the quests awhile ago and have been getting a bit bored with it.”
“I'm glad you've found a game you like... but what does that have to do with me?”
“You wanted to know why you’re here, right? Then shaddup and let me finish.” She took another draw from her pipe. She blew it out and looked up to the stars, the backdrop of flame behind her made her look like a ghost. “Why should he be the only one that gets to play on a grand scale? Why can’t I? I’m older than him… stupid little brother.” She snorted. “’Course, I can have my own world, and why not? Not like there is a shortage of them out there. So, I went out and snagged one so I could create a world with endless quests and endless interaction.”
“You—what? You made all of this? Who the hell are you?”
She cocked her head to the side, white hair falling into her face. “Thought that was kinda obvious… I’m death, kiddo. D-E-A-T-H. Please tell me you know who that is, ‘cause I don’t got the patience to explain it to you right now.”
“N—No, I know who death is… but he was always… I thought you’d be different.”
“Yeah, get that all the time. Idiots. They think ‘cause their creator said he made man in his image that he made up the form of women. You lot are sometimes so dumb.” She blew out one last puff of smoke and then knocked ash from her pipe. She put it in her bag once it was empty and stood. She stretched and looked out toward the city. “Well, I’m a bit bored now. Think I’ll go hunting for a dragon or something.”
“What—what about me?” Ian stood as well and she turned to look at him, confused. “I mean—what am I to do here? Why can’t I go home? Or to heaven…?”
She frowned. “Cause my brother got bored and didn’t finish Hell or Heaven. He always had grand ideas but was terrible at following through. Best we really got is to put you back on earth. Kenneth, he’s the youngest of us, has been on an insect kick lately. I mean, if you want to go back and be a grasshopper or spider I could take you… but wouldn’t you rather play my game? I promise, you won’t die here, at least not permanently if you activate the spawn point of the area you’re in or have a res scroll.”
“But what about Ellen? What about my family?”
“What about them? You’re dead, kiddo. Ain’t no way back besides being reincarnated. At least here… you can do something. You could do the boring thing and make a family here… which would just make me sad.” She reached into her bag and pulled a long sword from it’s black hole. It was far to big to fit, but she didn’t seem to take notice. She held it out to him. “I would really rather see you raise your level and become something of worth—someone to adventure with me.”
Ian looked at her and then at the sword, his heart thudding in his chest, his mind reeling at all the new information. He wanted to run and hide, yet he rose his arm to take the sword. His hand clamped around the sheath and he nearly dropped it when she let go.
She smiled at him, an almost girlish grin that made his heart skip. “Maybe there is hope for you after all. I’m gonna give you your first quest, complete it and you’ll be on your way to join me on the grand adventures this world has.”
“What’s the quest?”
She tapped at her chin and then walked to the edge of the wall they were on. She looked down and then turned to look at the city. The devilish grin returned. “Find your way out of the city and to a village called Lonhoust. There you’ll meet a blacksmith. He just lost his daughter in the labyrinth that is beneath the town. Get him to make you some armor and rescue her.”
“Are you ser—” His words were cut off when she walked off the edge of the wall and disappeared. He hurried to the edge and looked down. Her black cloak billowed out and she landed softly in the high grass. With one glace back at him she started off toward the forest.
Ian looked down at the sword in his hand and then at the city in flames. “You gotta be fucking kidding me…”
| |
[WP] You die in your girlfriends arms after saving her from a careless driver. Suddenly you wake up in your bed, completely healed and your clothes fixed. You look over and see death sitting at your desk. “Okay hear me out,” it says. “I’ve been playing this video game, and I wanna try something...” | It turns out that the carelessness of the driver was in how he messed up the carefully choreographed staged accident that you had planned to kill your now common-law girlfriend. Instead of the parking lot cameras capturing you heroically ATTEMPTING to save her life, they instead caught you ACTUALLY saving her life.
| "I'm pretty sure I'm in a coma right now" I said, feeling my heart rise to my throat. I pinch myself, and I feel it. Can I feel that in a coma too? Fuck, should've googled that before ... What happened again?
"YOU'RE NOT IN A COMA" Death said with a voice so grave it brought chills to my spine. He sat at my computerdesk, thought I did not *see* anything. I just felt it, and the voice was this eminent booming voice. Only now did I notice there was no sound whatsoever. It was my regular old room, but I was all alone. But there is silence and *deathly* silence. Outside, the sky was dark, but now that I pay attention, it has no stars. Maybe just light pollution.
"I AM DEATH. I AM THE END OF ALL SOUND, LIGHT AND LIFE. I AM THE COLD, I AM DARKNESS AND SILENCE. WHERE I GO, IT FOLLOWS ME."
"Now that you do mention it, it is pretty chilly."
'"NOW, I'VE PLAYED YOUR GAME, WHAT'S IT CALLED, MAGIC AND MYTHS?"
"... Uhu."
"WELL, I WOULD VERY MUCH APPRECIATE IT YOU COULD DO THAT BIG MAGIC UPDATE, YOU KNOW WITH THE NEW RANDOMLY PROCEDURAL GENERATION. IF YOU HADN'T GONE OUT THAT NIGHT YOU MIGHT'VE LIVED TO PROBABLY FINISH IT."
"Why didn't you stop me then?"
"WELL CAUSE YOU GOT FREE WILL AND THAT'S CALLED FUCKIN' LIFE. I AM DEATH, YOU CAN FIGURE I'M NOT OUT THERE SAVING LIVES, Y'KNOW, NOT PART OF THE JOB DESCRIPTION."
"Well no need to be so rude, why would I do this for you anyway? Whats in it for me?" Was this... Real? What if this is true, or my subconsience talking to me?
"LISTEN, JUST GO SIT AT THIS COMPUTER RIGHT, AND WRITE THE GAMECODE OR WHATEVER, YOU KNOW WHAT REWRITE THE WHOLE GRAPHICS AND PHYSICS ENGINE, YOUR COMPUTER IS INSANELY POWERFUL NOW, I CHANGED IT. THEN. THEN YOU DIE."
"Wait... What?"
"YEAH THIS IS PURGATORY, BASICALLY. YOU DO AS I SAID, AND THEN YOU FIND ETERNAL REST."
Wow, this would be a really fuckin lame coma if it stays this way. I wish I'd remember what happened. Why was I here? Did I die after going out?
"IT'S NOT A COMA. YOU DIED PUSHING YOUR GIRLFRIEND AWAY FROM AN INCOMING CAR AS SHE STUMBLED DRUNKENLY AROUND A STREET YOU THOUGHT WAS DEAD TRYING TO FIND YOUR PARKED CAR. HE HIT YOU INSTEAD AND YOU PRETTY MUCH DIED INSTANTLY."
Holy fucking shit. Rosa. She must've seen him die, what the fuck, that's horrible.
"YOU DIED IN HER ARMS. VERY TRAGIC. NOW GET TO WORK."
I curled up and began crying uncontrollably, gripping the sheets to smear out my snot in them.
There was no more voice after that, no matter how much I called out. Only silence and a computer with a screensaver spinning around on its screen. | |
[WP] You die in your girlfriends arms after saving her from a careless driver. Suddenly you wake up in your bed, completely healed and your clothes fixed. You look over and see death sitting at your desk. “Okay hear me out,” it says. “I’ve been playing this video game, and I wanna try something...” | "How do you feel about playing the role of death for the next several days?"
Still in shock from what just happened, I muster, "What?"
The tall shadowy figure hovers towards me in a graceful manner, "Listen i know its a lot to throw at you but i am tired of my day job and i want to experience what its like to be a human being for a day or two.
I still cannot trust my senses so I close my eyes roll over and try to fall asleep. I can feel a freezing sensation begin to creep over my body starting from my toes and progressing towards my hip. I open my eyes and see a hooded figure balancing itself on what seems to be a scythe.
"Call me crazy but if being a human is anything like this video game I have been playing it feels like humans have endless possibilities."
My thumbs begin to scruff my eyes in a way which disorients my eyesight even further.
"I want to wake up one morning and decide to go on a heart throbbing hike. I want to have an inner circle who i spend my weekends going out with to the local pub. I want to have a day job where I gossip about how harsh the judges treated judy on her performance."
The robed outline gets up and rests his chin on his drained boney fingers and begins to ponder as it gazes out the window into the abyss.
"But most importantly i want to have a tiger striped kitten named Snuggles who i spoil with millions of toys, treats, and attention."
I desperately attempt to speak but the only thoughts my mind can produce are ones about the crash. My senses are stuck at the crash sight. My eyes cannot shake the glistening tear falling from Dorothy's ocean blue eye. My nostrils still hold the smell of pungent gasoline and suffocating smoke. Defeating the asphyxia I muster, "Where am I?"
The grim figure restores its menacing stance and announces, "You're in between life and death."
I pleaded,"Please send me back to my original life! My girlfriend and i are awaiting a baby and i must be present for my son's birth."
The shadowy outline stood still.
"I may be able to pull a couple a strings for you but for a small cost. What would you say if i told you i can return you to your original life but you would have to perform death's duties for a few days?
"Death's duties?" I cringingly asked.
The floating image responded,"Yes!" It isn't that bad actually aside from spending most of your days at retirement homes the job holds really good perks."
I lay still in disbelief. I desperately implore, "Please please send me back i cannot be death. i have to be there for dorothy and my unborn son. I promise to be more careful when im behind the wheel. i promise to help the poor and call my mother everyday. i promise i promise i promise!"
The shadowy figure leaves its menacing stance and floats over to the side of my bed and yells, "Listen kid im going to take over your life whether you like it or not question is who is going to help me perform my duties whilst i enjoy a sunday float by the beach? If you help me now i will help you later. whaddya say?
| "I'm pretty sure I'm in a coma right now" I said, feeling my heart rise to my throat. I pinch myself, and I feel it. Can I feel that in a coma too? Fuck, should've googled that before ... What happened again?
"YOU'RE NOT IN A COMA" Death said with a voice so grave it brought chills to my spine. He sat at my computerdesk, thought I did not *see* anything. I just felt it, and the voice was this eminent booming voice. Only now did I notice there was no sound whatsoever. It was my regular old room, but I was all alone. But there is silence and *deathly* silence. Outside, the sky was dark, but now that I pay attention, it has no stars. Maybe just light pollution.
"I AM DEATH. I AM THE END OF ALL SOUND, LIGHT AND LIFE. I AM THE COLD, I AM DARKNESS AND SILENCE. WHERE I GO, IT FOLLOWS ME."
"Now that you do mention it, it is pretty chilly."
'"NOW, I'VE PLAYED YOUR GAME, WHAT'S IT CALLED, MAGIC AND MYTHS?"
"... Uhu."
"WELL, I WOULD VERY MUCH APPRECIATE IT YOU COULD DO THAT BIG MAGIC UPDATE, YOU KNOW WITH THE NEW RANDOMLY PROCEDURAL GENERATION. IF YOU HADN'T GONE OUT THAT NIGHT YOU MIGHT'VE LIVED TO PROBABLY FINISH IT."
"Why didn't you stop me then?"
"WELL CAUSE YOU GOT FREE WILL AND THAT'S CALLED FUCKIN' LIFE. I AM DEATH, YOU CAN FIGURE I'M NOT OUT THERE SAVING LIVES, Y'KNOW, NOT PART OF THE JOB DESCRIPTION."
"Well no need to be so rude, why would I do this for you anyway? Whats in it for me?" Was this... Real? What if this is true, or my subconsience talking to me?
"LISTEN, JUST GO SIT AT THIS COMPUTER RIGHT, AND WRITE THE GAMECODE OR WHATEVER, YOU KNOW WHAT REWRITE THE WHOLE GRAPHICS AND PHYSICS ENGINE, YOUR COMPUTER IS INSANELY POWERFUL NOW, I CHANGED IT. THEN. THEN YOU DIE."
"Wait... What?"
"YEAH THIS IS PURGATORY, BASICALLY. YOU DO AS I SAID, AND THEN YOU FIND ETERNAL REST."
Wow, this would be a really fuckin lame coma if it stays this way. I wish I'd remember what happened. Why was I here? Did I die after going out?
"IT'S NOT A COMA. YOU DIED PUSHING YOUR GIRLFRIEND AWAY FROM AN INCOMING CAR AS SHE STUMBLED DRUNKENLY AROUND A STREET YOU THOUGHT WAS DEAD TRYING TO FIND YOUR PARKED CAR. HE HIT YOU INSTEAD AND YOU PRETTY MUCH DIED INSTANTLY."
Holy fucking shit. Rosa. She must've seen him die, what the fuck, that's horrible.
"YOU DIED IN HER ARMS. VERY TRAGIC. NOW GET TO WORK."
I curled up and began crying uncontrollably, gripping the sheets to smear out my snot in them.
There was no more voice after that, no matter how much I called out. Only silence and a computer with a screensaver spinning around on its screen. | |
[WP] You die in your girlfriends arms after saving her from a careless driver. Suddenly you wake up in your bed, completely healed and your clothes fixed. You look over and see death sitting at your desk. “Okay hear me out,” it says. “I’ve been playing this video game, and I wanna try something...” | WP: You die in your girlfriend’s arms after saving her from a careless driver. Suddenly you wake up in your bed, completely healed and your clothes fixed. You look over and see death sitting at your desk. “Okay hear me out,” it says. “I’ve been playing this video game, and I wanna try something…”
The last thing I remembered before everything went black was those big teary eyes that belonged to my girlfriend, Sofie. In a last heroic act, I pushed her out of the way of what I assumed was a drunk driver. The next moments was a blur but those blue eyes welling up with salty waters of the ocean will stay with me for the rest of what appeared to be short life. I didn’t feel any pain only the warm arms holding my tightly and Sofie’s heaving chest. I looked down and noticed my clothes were ragged and bloody.
And then. Then I awoke in my bed like it had been a bad dream. I turned over but Sofie was missing. I stretched out my hand, but the spot usually occupied by her was empty.
“Sofie?” I called out.
“She’s at the hospital dummy.” I voice colder than the spot next to me answered. I flinched and froze in fear, starring up at the ceiling. After what felt like minutes the voice spoke again.
“I’m not going anywhere pal,” The strange and otherworldly voice said, “You might as well look at me while we talk. I won’t be here long… Promise.”
Slowly I pushed against the bed, turning myself to the side until I was facing death himself. He was thin and boney while still managing to look massive. His skull-head and empty eyes looked straight at me. He was sitting at my desk chair, spinning to each side slowly. On the table, behind him, on top of Sofie’s closed laptop his scythe lay. It has a wood charred handle and shining blade, at least fifty centimeters long.
Death cleared his throat and spoke again, “You’re todays luckiest human. You’ve just ‘respawned’ I think they call it. That means you get to on from where you left with all your memories intact.”
I stared back at death in disbelief. What did he mean by respawned?
“You know… Respawned… Like in a video game… You get to try again. A second life if you will, though I cannot promise you there’ll be more, should you happen to die again.” Death went on. He explained how he had been playing video games and had grown especially fond of the respawn mechanic that allowed players to continue when they die.
After this I felt a little more comfortable in his company. At least I knew he wasn’t going to do something horrible to me. That was also just about the only thing I felt comfortable about.
“So… I get to see Sofie again?” I asked cautiously. “How’ll she react?”
“Yes, you can. Let’s just hope she doesn’t get a heart attack when you see her.” Death chuckled, and his mouth turned in a wry smile, “She doesn’t know of course nor does anyone else.”
“But how can I go back to living a normal life the-“ I was interrupted by Death who quickly yelled, “I didn’t think that far! Figure it out yourself.”
I almost didn’t get the last part because in that moment he disappeared in cloud of black some, only leaving behind his scythe which too vanished only seconds later.
I lay in my bed for what felt like hours wondering what to do. How would I react if Sofie ‘respawned.’ I would probably think she was a ghost but she’s rather pale and her blonde hair wouldn’t help matters either.
As I walked to the hospital questions started popping into my head. Are we still married? “Till Death do us part.” Does this mean we’re no longer married? He didn’t really part us, did he? Is there any laws on this exact subject?
It didn’t take long for me to get to the hospital and as I walked up Sofie walked right out the sliding doors. Suddenly fear took me, and I ran for the nearest bush. She didn’t see me. But I could see her. Her eyes were bloodshot and there was a black trail down her cheeks from her make-up. I in that moment I wanted nothing more than to walk up to her and hold her but what should I say? How could anything I did make her calm down. I followed her home, making sure to stay one block behind her at all times. She didn’t look back one and generally seemed distant. Last time I had seen her like this was when her grandmother had died. Now it was me. Through the hedge I watched her walk from the living room into the kitchen and open a bottle of wine. She didn’t bother finding a glass and she drank straight from the bottle.
She spent the rest of the day weeping, drinking, and watching TV shows. By dinner time she had finished the whole bottle. At 1 am she was still lying in the sofa. She hadn’t made dinner but had instead opened a new bottle of cheap champagne.
I couldn’t stand watching her suffer like this and I was weeping almost as much as her by now. So I decided to walk the fifty kilometers from the sidewalk, around the corner, up one of the pathway. And another and another and another until finally my knuckle was resting on the door. Ready to knock.
*Knock knock*
I started regretting it as soon as my white knuckle knocked on the door a second time. Frozen in fear like I had been earlier that day in our bed I listened as she turned off the TV and got up. The creaking floorboards coming from the other side of the door filled my ears and I watched in panic as the door handle was lowered from the other side. Then I felt that warmth emitting from Sofie again as I watched her blue eyes turn from confusion to shock and finally to terror.
Sofie let out a scream and fell backwards. She barely managed to remain upright as she ran into the bedroom. I took a couple of steps inside and watched her shadow dancing into the hallway from the bedroom. When she emerged she was holding a gun, pointed straight at me.
“Wait! Sofie I can explain!” I cried out.
***Bang!***
This time I felt pain. Pain from breaking Sofie’s heart a second time. Pain as I fell over and watched her large blue eyes welling up again. Pain as I imagined the trauma I had just caused her again.
| "I'm pretty sure I'm in a coma right now" I said, feeling my heart rise to my throat. I pinch myself, and I feel it. Can I feel that in a coma too? Fuck, should've googled that before ... What happened again?
"YOU'RE NOT IN A COMA" Death said with a voice so grave it brought chills to my spine. He sat at my computerdesk, thought I did not *see* anything. I just felt it, and the voice was this eminent booming voice. Only now did I notice there was no sound whatsoever. It was my regular old room, but I was all alone. But there is silence and *deathly* silence. Outside, the sky was dark, but now that I pay attention, it has no stars. Maybe just light pollution.
"I AM DEATH. I AM THE END OF ALL SOUND, LIGHT AND LIFE. I AM THE COLD, I AM DARKNESS AND SILENCE. WHERE I GO, IT FOLLOWS ME."
"Now that you do mention it, it is pretty chilly."
'"NOW, I'VE PLAYED YOUR GAME, WHAT'S IT CALLED, MAGIC AND MYTHS?"
"... Uhu."
"WELL, I WOULD VERY MUCH APPRECIATE IT YOU COULD DO THAT BIG MAGIC UPDATE, YOU KNOW WITH THE NEW RANDOMLY PROCEDURAL GENERATION. IF YOU HADN'T GONE OUT THAT NIGHT YOU MIGHT'VE LIVED TO PROBABLY FINISH IT."
"Why didn't you stop me then?"
"WELL CAUSE YOU GOT FREE WILL AND THAT'S CALLED FUCKIN' LIFE. I AM DEATH, YOU CAN FIGURE I'M NOT OUT THERE SAVING LIVES, Y'KNOW, NOT PART OF THE JOB DESCRIPTION."
"Well no need to be so rude, why would I do this for you anyway? Whats in it for me?" Was this... Real? What if this is true, or my subconsience talking to me?
"LISTEN, JUST GO SIT AT THIS COMPUTER RIGHT, AND WRITE THE GAMECODE OR WHATEVER, YOU KNOW WHAT REWRITE THE WHOLE GRAPHICS AND PHYSICS ENGINE, YOUR COMPUTER IS INSANELY POWERFUL NOW, I CHANGED IT. THEN. THEN YOU DIE."
"Wait... What?"
"YEAH THIS IS PURGATORY, BASICALLY. YOU DO AS I SAID, AND THEN YOU FIND ETERNAL REST."
Wow, this would be a really fuckin lame coma if it stays this way. I wish I'd remember what happened. Why was I here? Did I die after going out?
"IT'S NOT A COMA. YOU DIED PUSHING YOUR GIRLFRIEND AWAY FROM AN INCOMING CAR AS SHE STUMBLED DRUNKENLY AROUND A STREET YOU THOUGHT WAS DEAD TRYING TO FIND YOUR PARKED CAR. HE HIT YOU INSTEAD AND YOU PRETTY MUCH DIED INSTANTLY."
Holy fucking shit. Rosa. She must've seen him die, what the fuck, that's horrible.
"YOU DIED IN HER ARMS. VERY TRAGIC. NOW GET TO WORK."
I curled up and began crying uncontrollably, gripping the sheets to smear out my snot in them.
There was no more voice after that, no matter how much I called out. Only silence and a computer with a screensaver spinning around on its screen. | |
[WP] You die in your girlfriends arms after saving her from a careless driver. Suddenly you wake up in your bed, completely healed and your clothes fixed. You look over and see death sitting at your desk. “Okay hear me out,” it says. “I’ve been playing this video game, and I wanna try something...” | "I want to try this thing, you've probably heard of it, called 'respawning.' It's like you have more than one life and you get to go again! Great, isn't it?"
Anthony Barton blinked at the ceiling. "No." He found the strength to turn his head long enough to look at death in the face. He would have looked in his eyes, but there were no eyes. Just pitch black inside a hood.
Death pulled back in surprise. "What do you mean 'no'?"
"I mean," said Anthony, shifting in his hospital bed, annoyed at how healed he felt. "I was supposed to save her heroically and then die."
"You... you what?" said Death.
Anthony blew out a loud, tragically long sigh. "You wouldn't understand. You're death. You live forever and go around killing people. It's not the same." He paused a moment and considered this. "Actually, you're probably more like my girlfriend than me."
"What do you mean, like your girlfriend?" said Death. "I'm Death. I hardly think I compare to your pitifully mortal girlfriend. Let me get out my little book here, yes... Julia Carson, Julia Carson..."
Anthony waited. What else was there to do? He had been respawned. He had nothing but time to wait now.
"Oh," said Death, as he flipped through the book. "Oh. Oh wow. Wow," he said, scratching at his hood. "Wow, she is something else. I can sort of see how you'd make the comparison. She isn't nearly as bad as me though."
"Keep reading," said Anthony.
Death continued flipping through. Page after page after page of...
"You saved this girl from me?!?" said Death. "What were you thinking, man?"
"Did you read the part about the cats\-"
"Yes."
"That she tortured\-"
"Yes."
"And then used some kind of deal with the devil so she could bring them back to life and torture them again?"
Death reeled. "Er, no. I missed the last part."
"So you see," said Anthony, "why I had to do it."
"Why you had to kill yourself saving her?" said Death. "No, it makes no sense."
"She's abusive," said Anthony. "But," he added with a smile, "sometimes she's nice. I could never kill her. Besides, if I did, I'd end up in prison for murder. I'm not good at hiding murder like she is."
"So you..." said Death, looking deeply uncomfortable with the whole affair.
"I paid some stranger to be a bit reckless on the road, jump in front of her to save her from getting hit. Figured worst case scenario I end up in a coma, but at least she'll leave me alone then, since I'll be boring while in a coma. She'll go find something else to abuse."
"So," said Death, as the realization came together, "now was not a great time to try out 'respawning,' was it?"
"I don't know," said Anthony, with every bit of sarcasm he could muster, "you think?"
"Would you prefer if I kill you?" said Death. "I could do it very easily, you know." He snapped his bony fingers. "Just like that."
"Well..." said Anthony, a glimmer of something forming in his mind. "Since you have power over life and death and all..."
"Yes?" said Death, sounding eager to rectify his mistake.
"I could never bring myself to hurt Julia. But if, say, an accident were to happen to her..."
"Oh," said Death. "Oh, I see. Well, under normal circumstances, I would say 'go to hell,' quite literally, but seeing as how I've broken my own rules today in respawning you, I suppose I could make an exception. It would come at a cost though, you see. Everything must have a cost. So if I kill her, you have to die too."
"Sounds good to me."
"Uh, that was fast. Are you sure, Anthony?"
"No."
"What do you mean, no?"
"Well," said Anthony. "If I die and she dies, I'll probably never get to see her again. That's the hardest part."
"Do I need to remind you what she's done?" said Death, incredulous. He shoved the book in Anthony's face.
"I'm not wicked like her," said Anthony. "I have to forgive and forget."
"Not this! You can't forgive this!" Death pointed to an entry that described Julia's actions toward a small child. They were not pleasant.
"Maybe you have a point," said Anthony. "But... you can't leave the decision to me." The weight of it welled up inside him. "I can't make the right decision on this. It's too much for me."
"Very well," said Death. "I see now how this has to happen."
In a flash, Anthony found himself standing on top of what could only be described as a 2\-D platform, with his girlfriend below, looking up at him. She was mashed down into a muffin\-like shape.
"Anthony?" she said. "What are you doing up there? You're supposed to be down here with me, you idiot. Get down from there!"
Anthony tried to look around, but there wasn't much around. He was able to make out, in the distance, some numbers. What looked, unmistakably, like numbers for lives and the level he was on.
He looked down and managed to make out familiar looking plumber's garb on himself.
Julia was ranting at him incoherently from down below. He knew what he had to do.
He leapt into the air and timed his fall to land directly on top of her.
It was just another game. Not real. In here, everything was safe. In here, he could defeat her. | The bed felt ice cold against my skin; Oddly enough, this felt normal.
Death began to explain his love for Destiny 2, “...the graphics upgrade from Destiny really took me at first. But the gameplay gave me this idea: I’d like you, Tearna, to be my virtual proxy. In sum, I want to live more of a gamer lifestyle and have you carry out my daily tasks.”
I frowned for a moment. “So, you want me to do your killing for you?”
“Essentially,” Death said plainly.
When I was living, I felt a moral compass of sorts. This was currently replaced by a feeling of carelessness that most would associate with the feeling of joy. “Fuck it,” I responded.
Death immediately employed me. Killing did not come easily. I had Death shadow me on my first few tasks to make sure I was performing properly. I did not want to find out what was worse than Death by fucking this up.
“So, take the shovel and hit him on the head. It’s not rocket science. What were you in your previous life? That’s right, someone who didn’t pick up anything but a video game controller.” Death chuckled condescendingly.
“And it’s that strategy knowledge I learned in video games that led me to being your proxy.” I responded smartly while swinging the shovel in his direction.
Death seemed to become the air at once and materialized behind the shovel, with his boney forefinger and what would be a thumb bone wrapped around the handle of the shovel. “You amuse me with your antics.”
Death and I got along well after these shadow sessions. However, as my friendship with death blossomed, so did my moral compass. My body count rose exponentially but so did the burden weigh on my conscience.
“It’s time to tell Death,” I thought.
[punctuation]
[spelling]
[diction] | |
[WP] You die in your girlfriends arms after saving her from a careless driver. Suddenly you wake up in your bed, completely healed and your clothes fixed. You look over and see death sitting at your desk. “Okay hear me out,” it says. “I’ve been playing this video game, and I wanna try something...” | Breathe in.
I remember there wasn't much pain, not like you'd expect. The adrenaline dulled it, made it seem far away. My breathing shallowed, my head got light, my vision dimmed. I was still alive, and she found me where the truck had thrown me. She was holding me, calling for help. I remember shoving her out of the way just before the truck hit me; I must have pushed her far enough, because she wasn't hurt.
I remember dying.
Breathe out.
I have a hard time putting into words how happy I was in that moment. Laying there under the covers, warm and comfortable, unharmed, alive. Or at least something analogous to alive. Equal to alive. Undead? Who cared.
I was an atheist. I believed there was no afterlife, no gods, nothing waiting for me after my death. And I had a good life, so I wanted to keep it as long as possible. Maybe forever, if given the chance.
**WERE YOU ONE OF THE ANNOYING ONES?**
What?
**THE ANNOYING ONES. ATHEISTS. THE HOLIER-THAN-THOU ONES, MINUS THE HOLY BIT.**
I used to be, I think. But I grew out of it after a while.
**LOOK UP, YOUNG ONE. LOOK UPON ME.**
I sit up and look around my bedroom. It's exactly as it was yesterday, not a single detail out of place. I don't have an eidetic memory, but it looks real. Feels real. And there, standing by the door, is Death. I can tell immediately by looking at him, there's no way this entity could be anything but Death, the OG Classic Death too.
He's tall, over six feet, and made up of nothing but bone. Terribly old, sunbleached white bone. There's a sense of cleanliness to him, immaculate perfection, no dirt or rot on those bones. He's almost like a statue of porcelain, wrapped about with a black robe that hangs loosely on him. The robe does nothing to hide how thin he is; I can see the shapes of his shoulder bones and pelvis through the thin cloth.
And in his right hand, a scythe. Black the handle, gleaming silver the blade, long and thin with delicate engravings that might be ancient language, or perhaps purely decorative without meaning. Again the indication of unfathomed age but no wear; the tool's edge was pristinely sharp.
**I CAN HEAR YOU. STOP FAWNING OVER ME; IT'S UNSETTLING.**
I almost laughed. The thought of Death finding anything unsettling just seemed-
**STOP THAT. FOCUS ON ME. I HAVE COME TO ENLIST YOUR HELP WITH A VERY SPECIFIC PROJECT.**
...Project? What's going on? Why am I still alive? Am I, really?
**YOU DIED. NOW YOU LIVE. I DIDN'T RESURRECT YOU; DIDN'T BRING YOU BACK. YOU'RE HERE NOW BECAUSE I SUBVERTED THE PROCESS BY WHICH YOU WOULD HAVE GONE ANYWHERE.**
Why? I mean, thank you, but why?
**OKAY, HEAR ME OUT.** Hesitance. Nervousness. Uncertainty. **I'VE BEEN PLAYING THIS VIDEO GAME AND I WANT TO TRY SOMETHING.**
In Death's left hand was a physical copy of Dark Souls. Okay, come on, you can't really expect me to not have an internal monologue about how ridiculous this is. You're Death. You can't just play video games.
**TWO HUMAN BEINGS DIE EVERY SECOND. I APPEAR BEFORE THEM ALL AND TAKE THEM TO THE NEXT LIFE. FROM THIS YOU CONCLUDE THAT I AM OMNIPRESENT, I EXIST IN ALL PLACES AT ONCE, AND THE NUMBER OF TASKS I CAN PERFORM SIMULTANEOUSLY HAS NO LIMIT. YES, I PLAY VIDEO GAMES. I DO MANY OTHER THINGS AS WELL.**
...
**SO YOU UNDERSTAND. GOOD. I HAVE BEEN PLAYING THIS GAME AND HAVE CLOCKED SEVERAL THOUSAND HOURS ON IT ALONE. I HAVE HAD AN EPIPHANY. THE SYSTEM OF DEATH AND AFTERLIFE WHICH I CURRENTLY ADMINISTRATE IS COUNTERPRODUCTIVE AND LEAVES ROOM FOR VAST IMPROVEMENT.**
So, what? You'll just stop killing people?
**I DO NOT KILL PEOPLE. I AM DEATH. PEOPLE DIE, AND THAT IS WHAT I AM. IT IS BEYOND ME TO AVERT THIS PROCESS, TO DO SO WOULD BE TO DESTROY MYSELF, BUT I CAN CHANGE IT. CHANGE THE RESULT. CHANGE MYSELF.**
A respawn mechanic as opposed to permadeath.
**YES.**
The implications are... huge. Mind-boggling. A total change to civilization. If no one ever stays dead... we'd need to reallocate populations, spread them out more evenly, and limit how many children people could have. Murder wouldn't be one of the most serious crimes. What about food? People could still starve to death, but they'd come back. We'd have to do something about world hunger, but the pressure of time would be so much lighter. Diseases and nukes wouldn't be anywhere near as scary... this would be... this would be...
**MORE CONDUCIVE TO PLAYER ENJOYMENT. HARDCORE MODE ONLY APPEALS TO A SPECIFIC MINORITY OF PLAYERS. THE OTHERS LOSE ALL PROGRESS AND ARE FORCED INTO A SECOND RUN WHICH THEY TEND NOT TO FULLY ENJOY, DESPITE ITS AMENITIES.**
You're talking about the afterlife. Holy shit, you're saying the afterlife sucks.
**THE AFTERLIFE DOES NOT SUCK. BUT THE LOSS OF ONE'S PROPER FIRST LIFE UPSETS AND SADDENS MANY PEOPLE UPON THEIR ARRIVAL. A RESPAWN SYSTEM WOULD ABSOLVE THIS PROBLEM BY ALLOWING PLAYERS TO REAP THE FULL BENEFITS AND PLEASURE OUT OF THEIR FIRST LIVES... AND ONLY THEN PROCEED TO NEW GAME PLUS.**
Death gestured to me with his scythe. It wasn't a threat, but it was still hard not to be terrified of him, especially since he'd made clear he didn't enjoy the internal monologue I was currently interrupting him with-
**YOU ARE THE FIRST. WE HAVE MANY ISSUES TO SOLVE BEFORE THIS UPDATE GOES LIVE. THE GAME BALANCE MUST BE PRESERVED, DEATH MUST STILL HAVE CONSEQUENCES. GLITCHES MUST BE PATCHED. LEGACY ACCOUNTS MUST BE AFFORDED ACCESS TO NEW CONTENT.**
Holy shit. Holy shit.
**NATURALLY WE WILL RESOLVE THIS, AS IS TRADITION, WITH CLOSED ALPHA AND BETA TESTS. GET UP. WE HAVE WORK TO DO.**
| The bed felt ice cold against my skin; Oddly enough, this felt normal.
Death began to explain his love for Destiny 2, “...the graphics upgrade from Destiny really took me at first. But the gameplay gave me this idea: I’d like you, Tearna, to be my virtual proxy. In sum, I want to live more of a gamer lifestyle and have you carry out my daily tasks.”
I frowned for a moment. “So, you want me to do your killing for you?”
“Essentially,” Death said plainly.
When I was living, I felt a moral compass of sorts. This was currently replaced by a feeling of carelessness that most would associate with the feeling of joy. “Fuck it,” I responded.
Death immediately employed me. Killing did not come easily. I had Death shadow me on my first few tasks to make sure I was performing properly. I did not want to find out what was worse than Death by fucking this up.
“So, take the shovel and hit him on the head. It’s not rocket science. What were you in your previous life? That’s right, someone who didn’t pick up anything but a video game controller.” Death chuckled condescendingly.
“And it’s that strategy knowledge I learned in video games that led me to being your proxy.” I responded smartly while swinging the shovel in his direction.
Death seemed to become the air at once and materialized behind the shovel, with his boney forefinger and what would be a thumb bone wrapped around the handle of the shovel. “You amuse me with your antics.”
Death and I got along well after these shadow sessions. However, as my friendship with death blossomed, so did my moral compass. My body count rose exponentially but so did the burden weigh on my conscience.
“It’s time to tell Death,” I thought.
[punctuation]
[spelling]
[diction] | |
[WP] You die in your girlfriends arms after saving her from a careless driver. Suddenly you wake up in your bed, completely healed and your clothes fixed. You look over and see death sitting at your desk. “Okay hear me out,” it says. “I’ve been playing this video game, and I wanna try something...” | "I want to try this thing, you've probably heard of it, called 'respawning.' It's like you have more than one life and you get to go again! Great, isn't it?"
Anthony Barton blinked at the ceiling. "No." He found the strength to turn his head long enough to look at death in the face. He would have looked in his eyes, but there were no eyes. Just pitch black inside a hood.
Death pulled back in surprise. "What do you mean 'no'?"
"I mean," said Anthony, shifting in his hospital bed, annoyed at how healed he felt. "I was supposed to save her heroically and then die."
"You... you what?" said Death.
Anthony blew out a loud, tragically long sigh. "You wouldn't understand. You're death. You live forever and go around killing people. It's not the same." He paused a moment and considered this. "Actually, you're probably more like my girlfriend than me."
"What do you mean, like your girlfriend?" said Death. "I'm Death. I hardly think I compare to your pitifully mortal girlfriend. Let me get out my little book here, yes... Julia Carson, Julia Carson..."
Anthony waited. What else was there to do? He had been respawned. He had nothing but time to wait now.
"Oh," said Death, as he flipped through the book. "Oh. Oh wow. Wow," he said, scratching at his hood. "Wow, she is something else. I can sort of see how you'd make the comparison. She isn't nearly as bad as me though."
"Keep reading," said Anthony.
Death continued flipping through. Page after page after page of...
"You saved this girl from me?!?" said Death. "What were you thinking, man?"
"Did you read the part about the cats\-"
"Yes."
"That she tortured\-"
"Yes."
"And then used some kind of deal with the devil so she could bring them back to life and torture them again?"
Death reeled. "Er, no. I missed the last part."
"So you see," said Anthony, "why I had to do it."
"Why you had to kill yourself saving her?" said Death. "No, it makes no sense."
"She's abusive," said Anthony. "But," he added with a smile, "sometimes she's nice. I could never kill her. Besides, if I did, I'd end up in prison for murder. I'm not good at hiding murder like she is."
"So you..." said Death, looking deeply uncomfortable with the whole affair.
"I paid some stranger to be a bit reckless on the road, jump in front of her to save her from getting hit. Figured worst case scenario I end up in a coma, but at least she'll leave me alone then, since I'll be boring while in a coma. She'll go find something else to abuse."
"So," said Death, as the realization came together, "now was not a great time to try out 'respawning,' was it?"
"I don't know," said Anthony, with every bit of sarcasm he could muster, "you think?"
"Would you prefer if I kill you?" said Death. "I could do it very easily, you know." He snapped his bony fingers. "Just like that."
"Well..." said Anthony, a glimmer of something forming in his mind. "Since you have power over life and death and all..."
"Yes?" said Death, sounding eager to rectify his mistake.
"I could never bring myself to hurt Julia. But if, say, an accident were to happen to her..."
"Oh," said Death. "Oh, I see. Well, under normal circumstances, I would say 'go to hell,' quite literally, but seeing as how I've broken my own rules today in respawning you, I suppose I could make an exception. It would come at a cost though, you see. Everything must have a cost. So if I kill her, you have to die too."
"Sounds good to me."
"Uh, that was fast. Are you sure, Anthony?"
"No."
"What do you mean, no?"
"Well," said Anthony. "If I die and she dies, I'll probably never get to see her again. That's the hardest part."
"Do I need to remind you what she's done?" said Death, incredulous. He shoved the book in Anthony's face.
"I'm not wicked like her," said Anthony. "I have to forgive and forget."
"Not this! You can't forgive this!" Death pointed to an entry that described Julia's actions toward a small child. They were not pleasant.
"Maybe you have a point," said Anthony. "But... you can't leave the decision to me." The weight of it welled up inside him. "I can't make the right decision on this. It's too much for me."
"Very well," said Death. "I see now how this has to happen."
In a flash, Anthony found himself standing on top of what could only be described as a 2\-D platform, with his girlfriend below, looking up at him. She was mashed down into a muffin\-like shape.
"Anthony?" she said. "What are you doing up there? You're supposed to be down here with me, you idiot. Get down from there!"
Anthony tried to look around, but there wasn't much around. He was able to make out, in the distance, some numbers. What looked, unmistakably, like numbers for lives and the level he was on.
He looked down and managed to make out familiar looking plumber's garb on himself.
Julia was ranting at him incoherently from down below. He knew what he had to do.
He leapt into the air and timed his fall to land directly on top of her.
It was just another game. Not real. In here, everything was safe. In here, he could defeat her. | I stopped listening, hell I think I stopped breathing. There sat a skeleton, bleached white and not a mark to speak of. Where eyes once sat was covered in darkness so unnatural it dimmed the light around it's face. But it wasn't wearing a cloak or robes or even a fancy suit but a ragged black hoodie with a misfits logo on it and tattered jeans.
But I knew who sat before me, their scythe leaning against the wall giving it away, Death himself had come for me.
As I started to panic a wad of paper hit me in the face.
"Are you even listening dude? Man no one has manners anymore, you show up try to talk to them and they just freak out on you. Never, 'yoooo death wanna smoke, wanna drink.' Always, 'oh god I can't be dead.'"
I stared blankly at him not sure to laugh or cry or start begging for my life. I wasn't even sure I was sane anymore.
Finally after what felt like another eternity of him staring down my soul I muttered weakly, "w..would you like a drink?" And I swore he grinned at that.
"Love to but I don't got a lot of time before my dad gets back..."
"Wait a minute," I said barely able to believe what I just heard. "Your dad?"
"Well, yeah Death Franklin Martinez sr. But don't you take me any less seriously. I have almost the same powers so watch it buddy. Anyway as I was saying there's this game I've been playing, it's that new call of duty game that just came out, anyway I heard there's a glitch to hide from the zombies in their newest map I just need a second person."
This still seemed surreal but he didn't seem to be trying to take me so I'll play along for now and hope it spares me. "Why not ask your dad?"
"Dude you know how parents are, he ain't a fan of games and even when I get him to play he's not that good at them. So I propose a deal, I'm in charge of the business while he's gone on vacation for awhile. It's come to my attention that you my man are a gamer so, you help me with this glitch and I send you back and you and your girl live happily ever after... (cough) at least for another 2 years."
"What was that last part?"
"I said you got nothing to fear. Doesn't anyone listen anymore? So you accept or not?"
I'd be a fool to refuse so I jumped at his offer immediately thanking him for the chance.
He pulled something black and long it looked like a finger for a moment before he lit it and the smell hit me, he rose grabbing his scythe he said, "you ready for a second chance?" Before he whisked me away to the afterlife where after many attempts we glitched him into the wall.
"So you see that's why I'm late to dinner, I woke up at home in bed and had to rush over here."
"Do you really expect me to believe that crazy story? Fuck it I can't take it anymore, whatever drugs you're doing I don't want any part of this I'll have your shit ready for you tomorrow just get out of here David I can't even look at you."
And with that she slammed the door on me and left me in the rain. Ah well maybe death Jr is still online.
| |
[WP] You die in your girlfriends arms after saving her from a careless driver. Suddenly you wake up in your bed, completely healed and your clothes fixed. You look over and see death sitting at your desk. “Okay hear me out,” it says. “I’ve been playing this video game, and I wanna try something...” | I blinked myself back into existence and a brick dropped deep in my stomach. Flailing around, I pulled at the bedcovers and couldn't remember how I got there. The room was all blurry still and it seemed the floor was being stretched and pulled out from under me. This is why I can't stand hangovers. But I suppose people rarely do. I rolled over to prod Cassie awake for morning sex and it hit me that I hadn't been drinking the night before.
With freshly skidded boxers, I bolted out of bed then it all started to bubble back up in my brain. Last thing I saw before waking was Cassie bathed in the yellowish light beaming out from the taxi cab. I must've ran out in front. I flung her to the side of the road and then the last thing was the driver skirling to a stop with sheer dumb terror spread across his face. I ground my molars thinking about the sickening crack my skull had made on the asphalt then - surprised, running my hand along the back of my head, I found no cut, no wound and no caked up blood either.
Confusion whirled around inside me and I had no other thought than to find Cassie. Had I dreamt the accident up? Was she okay? How did I end up back home in bed? I thought maybe I'd have to phone up all the hospitals in the tri-state area and, callous as it sounds, I considered how I'd explain it all to her mother without her getting too mad at me. Pulling on an old woolly jumper, I ran out into the lounge yelling 'Cassie! Cassie, you home?’ and ran smack bang into a hooded figure reclining on the sofa. I leaped up about ten feet as if someone had sparked a fire cracker beneath my ass. I lunged over to the other side of the room and ripped my limited edition *Sopranos* bat down off the wall. 'Who the fuck are you?’ and 'What have you done with Cassie?’ I yelled.
'Relax dude.’ he said turning to look at me. I let out a shriek and felt a warm streak of piss snake its way down my thigh. Staring back at me are two hollowed out black abysses sunk into a pearlescent bone skull beneath a black cloak. 'Dude chill.’ he said, lifting a bong to his mouth. 'I sent her off to stay with her aunt for a while.’ The bong water gurgled and he let out a splutter and a cloud of smoke erupted from his mouth filling up the room.
'What’s happening? Who are you?” I said trembling.
'Well my man, you like totally died and shit last night.’ I could feel a film of cold sweat gathering between my palm and the wood. 'I mean like, you bust your head wide open on the pavement dude. There was blood and bits of brain and stuff spilling out all over. That shit was gnarly man.’
'But Cassie? Wait - her aunt's been dead for six years.’
'Oh.’ he said cocking his head. 'Yeah not gonna lie, I was pretty wasted last night man so I mighta dropped her over in that other place by mistake.’ I stared at him in disbelief, unable to make sense of any of it. He clicked a lighter at the end of the bong but sparks wisped and fizzled out. 'Shit. Don’t worry my dude, we can go get her once we’re done you see, well, depending how it goes.’
'I don't understand.’
‘Well, see, I’ve been playing some video games lately and well y'know, it gets all boring ferrying people back and forth all day across the bridge to the nether world and stuff. It's just like the mundanity of it dude. You really don't understand.’ I flinched as he pulled himself forward on the sofa toward me, he started waving his bony hands around the room all excited like. 'I mean it's so repetitive and I’m actually an arts major originally, y’know? Don't get me wrong, this gig was alright to begin with but I didn't expect to wind up doing this for all eternity, y’know? I always pictured myself doing more creative kinda work, you feel me? Important stuff, interesting stuff, y’know?’
'I don't know what the hell you're talking about or what it's gotta do with me buddy.’ I said, feeling a little braver; as brave as a man could feel after he's just done soiling himself.
'Let me explain.’ He said rambling on again. 'Like I say, I’ve been playing video games and all and it occurred to me: hey what if we did a respawn y’know? Like in the games but in real life. So I shut off the switch for you all, y’know? You should be happy my dude, you’ve practically got twenty-four hours of immortality.’ With a swift flick of the wrist he checked his watch. 'Starting...now.’
'What? Why only twenty-four hours, why now?’
Just then a smattering of gunfire rang out from far off, coming from what sounded like the downstairs lobby.
'Highest kill streaks get to live.’ he said before vanishing with a loud pop into thin air. | I stopped listening, hell I think I stopped breathing. There sat a skeleton, bleached white and not a mark to speak of. Where eyes once sat was covered in darkness so unnatural it dimmed the light around it's face. But it wasn't wearing a cloak or robes or even a fancy suit but a ragged black hoodie with a misfits logo on it and tattered jeans.
But I knew who sat before me, their scythe leaning against the wall giving it away, Death himself had come for me.
As I started to panic a wad of paper hit me in the face.
"Are you even listening dude? Man no one has manners anymore, you show up try to talk to them and they just freak out on you. Never, 'yoooo death wanna smoke, wanna drink.' Always, 'oh god I can't be dead.'"
I stared blankly at him not sure to laugh or cry or start begging for my life. I wasn't even sure I was sane anymore.
Finally after what felt like another eternity of him staring down my soul I muttered weakly, "w..would you like a drink?" And I swore he grinned at that.
"Love to but I don't got a lot of time before my dad gets back..."
"Wait a minute," I said barely able to believe what I just heard. "Your dad?"
"Well, yeah Death Franklin Martinez sr. But don't you take me any less seriously. I have almost the same powers so watch it buddy. Anyway as I was saying there's this game I've been playing, it's that new call of duty game that just came out, anyway I heard there's a glitch to hide from the zombies in their newest map I just need a second person."
This still seemed surreal but he didn't seem to be trying to take me so I'll play along for now and hope it spares me. "Why not ask your dad?"
"Dude you know how parents are, he ain't a fan of games and even when I get him to play he's not that good at them. So I propose a deal, I'm in charge of the business while he's gone on vacation for awhile. It's come to my attention that you my man are a gamer so, you help me with this glitch and I send you back and you and your girl live happily ever after... (cough) at least for another 2 years."
"What was that last part?"
"I said you got nothing to fear. Doesn't anyone listen anymore? So you accept or not?"
I'd be a fool to refuse so I jumped at his offer immediately thanking him for the chance.
He pulled something black and long it looked like a finger for a moment before he lit it and the smell hit me, he rose grabbing his scythe he said, "you ready for a second chance?" Before he whisked me away to the afterlife where after many attempts we glitched him into the wall.
"So you see that's why I'm late to dinner, I woke up at home in bed and had to rush over here."
"Do you really expect me to believe that crazy story? Fuck it I can't take it anymore, whatever drugs you're doing I don't want any part of this I'll have your shit ready for you tomorrow just get out of here David I can't even look at you."
And with that she slammed the door on me and left me in the rain. Ah well maybe death Jr is still online.
| |
[WP] You die in your girlfriends arms after saving her from a careless driver. Suddenly you wake up in your bed, completely healed and your clothes fixed. You look over and see death sitting at your desk. “Okay hear me out,” it says. “I’ve been playing this video game, and I wanna try something...” | Breathe in.
I remember there wasn't much pain, not like you'd expect. The adrenaline dulled it, made it seem far away. My breathing shallowed, my head got light, my vision dimmed. I was still alive, and she found me where the truck had thrown me. She was holding me, calling for help. I remember shoving her out of the way just before the truck hit me; I must have pushed her far enough, because she wasn't hurt.
I remember dying.
Breathe out.
I have a hard time putting into words how happy I was in that moment. Laying there under the covers, warm and comfortable, unharmed, alive. Or at least something analogous to alive. Equal to alive. Undead? Who cared.
I was an atheist. I believed there was no afterlife, no gods, nothing waiting for me after my death. And I had a good life, so I wanted to keep it as long as possible. Maybe forever, if given the chance.
**WERE YOU ONE OF THE ANNOYING ONES?**
What?
**THE ANNOYING ONES. ATHEISTS. THE HOLIER-THAN-THOU ONES, MINUS THE HOLY BIT.**
I used to be, I think. But I grew out of it after a while.
**LOOK UP, YOUNG ONE. LOOK UPON ME.**
I sit up and look around my bedroom. It's exactly as it was yesterday, not a single detail out of place. I don't have an eidetic memory, but it looks real. Feels real. And there, standing by the door, is Death. I can tell immediately by looking at him, there's no way this entity could be anything but Death, the OG Classic Death too.
He's tall, over six feet, and made up of nothing but bone. Terribly old, sunbleached white bone. There's a sense of cleanliness to him, immaculate perfection, no dirt or rot on those bones. He's almost like a statue of porcelain, wrapped about with a black robe that hangs loosely on him. The robe does nothing to hide how thin he is; I can see the shapes of his shoulder bones and pelvis through the thin cloth.
And in his right hand, a scythe. Black the handle, gleaming silver the blade, long and thin with delicate engravings that might be ancient language, or perhaps purely decorative without meaning. Again the indication of unfathomed age but no wear; the tool's edge was pristinely sharp.
**I CAN HEAR YOU. STOP FAWNING OVER ME; IT'S UNSETTLING.**
I almost laughed. The thought of Death finding anything unsettling just seemed-
**STOP THAT. FOCUS ON ME. I HAVE COME TO ENLIST YOUR HELP WITH A VERY SPECIFIC PROJECT.**
...Project? What's going on? Why am I still alive? Am I, really?
**YOU DIED. NOW YOU LIVE. I DIDN'T RESURRECT YOU; DIDN'T BRING YOU BACK. YOU'RE HERE NOW BECAUSE I SUBVERTED THE PROCESS BY WHICH YOU WOULD HAVE GONE ANYWHERE.**
Why? I mean, thank you, but why?
**OKAY, HEAR ME OUT.** Hesitance. Nervousness. Uncertainty. **I'VE BEEN PLAYING THIS VIDEO GAME AND I WANT TO TRY SOMETHING.**
In Death's left hand was a physical copy of Dark Souls. Okay, come on, you can't really expect me to not have an internal monologue about how ridiculous this is. You're Death. You can't just play video games.
**TWO HUMAN BEINGS DIE EVERY SECOND. I APPEAR BEFORE THEM ALL AND TAKE THEM TO THE NEXT LIFE. FROM THIS YOU CONCLUDE THAT I AM OMNIPRESENT, I EXIST IN ALL PLACES AT ONCE, AND THE NUMBER OF TASKS I CAN PERFORM SIMULTANEOUSLY HAS NO LIMIT. YES, I PLAY VIDEO GAMES. I DO MANY OTHER THINGS AS WELL.**
...
**SO YOU UNDERSTAND. GOOD. I HAVE BEEN PLAYING THIS GAME AND HAVE CLOCKED SEVERAL THOUSAND HOURS ON IT ALONE. I HAVE HAD AN EPIPHANY. THE SYSTEM OF DEATH AND AFTERLIFE WHICH I CURRENTLY ADMINISTRATE IS COUNTERPRODUCTIVE AND LEAVES ROOM FOR VAST IMPROVEMENT.**
So, what? You'll just stop killing people?
**I DO NOT KILL PEOPLE. I AM DEATH. PEOPLE DIE, AND THAT IS WHAT I AM. IT IS BEYOND ME TO AVERT THIS PROCESS, TO DO SO WOULD BE TO DESTROY MYSELF, BUT I CAN CHANGE IT. CHANGE THE RESULT. CHANGE MYSELF.**
A respawn mechanic as opposed to permadeath.
**YES.**
The implications are... huge. Mind-boggling. A total change to civilization. If no one ever stays dead... we'd need to reallocate populations, spread them out more evenly, and limit how many children people could have. Murder wouldn't be one of the most serious crimes. What about food? People could still starve to death, but they'd come back. We'd have to do something about world hunger, but the pressure of time would be so much lighter. Diseases and nukes wouldn't be anywhere near as scary... this would be... this would be...
**MORE CONDUCIVE TO PLAYER ENJOYMENT. HARDCORE MODE ONLY APPEALS TO A SPECIFIC MINORITY OF PLAYERS. THE OTHERS LOSE ALL PROGRESS AND ARE FORCED INTO A SECOND RUN WHICH THEY TEND NOT TO FULLY ENJOY, DESPITE ITS AMENITIES.**
You're talking about the afterlife. Holy shit, you're saying the afterlife sucks.
**THE AFTERLIFE DOES NOT SUCK. BUT THE LOSS OF ONE'S PROPER FIRST LIFE UPSETS AND SADDENS MANY PEOPLE UPON THEIR ARRIVAL. A RESPAWN SYSTEM WOULD ABSOLVE THIS PROBLEM BY ALLOWING PLAYERS TO REAP THE FULL BENEFITS AND PLEASURE OUT OF THEIR FIRST LIVES... AND ONLY THEN PROCEED TO NEW GAME PLUS.**
Death gestured to me with his scythe. It wasn't a threat, but it was still hard not to be terrified of him, especially since he'd made clear he didn't enjoy the internal monologue I was currently interrupting him with-
**YOU ARE THE FIRST. WE HAVE MANY ISSUES TO SOLVE BEFORE THIS UPDATE GOES LIVE. THE GAME BALANCE MUST BE PRESERVED, DEATH MUST STILL HAVE CONSEQUENCES. GLITCHES MUST BE PATCHED. LEGACY ACCOUNTS MUST BE AFFORDED ACCESS TO NEW CONTENT.**
Holy shit. Holy shit.
**NATURALLY WE WILL RESOLVE THIS, AS IS TRADITION, WITH CLOSED ALPHA AND BETA TESTS. GET UP. WE HAVE WORK TO DO.**
| I stopped listening, hell I think I stopped breathing. There sat a skeleton, bleached white and not a mark to speak of. Where eyes once sat was covered in darkness so unnatural it dimmed the light around it's face. But it wasn't wearing a cloak or robes or even a fancy suit but a ragged black hoodie with a misfits logo on it and tattered jeans.
But I knew who sat before me, their scythe leaning against the wall giving it away, Death himself had come for me.
As I started to panic a wad of paper hit me in the face.
"Are you even listening dude? Man no one has manners anymore, you show up try to talk to them and they just freak out on you. Never, 'yoooo death wanna smoke, wanna drink.' Always, 'oh god I can't be dead.'"
I stared blankly at him not sure to laugh or cry or start begging for my life. I wasn't even sure I was sane anymore.
Finally after what felt like another eternity of him staring down my soul I muttered weakly, "w..would you like a drink?" And I swore he grinned at that.
"Love to but I don't got a lot of time before my dad gets back..."
"Wait a minute," I said barely able to believe what I just heard. "Your dad?"
"Well, yeah Death Franklin Martinez sr. But don't you take me any less seriously. I have almost the same powers so watch it buddy. Anyway as I was saying there's this game I've been playing, it's that new call of duty game that just came out, anyway I heard there's a glitch to hide from the zombies in their newest map I just need a second person."
This still seemed surreal but he didn't seem to be trying to take me so I'll play along for now and hope it spares me. "Why not ask your dad?"
"Dude you know how parents are, he ain't a fan of games and even when I get him to play he's not that good at them. So I propose a deal, I'm in charge of the business while he's gone on vacation for awhile. It's come to my attention that you my man are a gamer so, you help me with this glitch and I send you back and you and your girl live happily ever after... (cough) at least for another 2 years."
"What was that last part?"
"I said you got nothing to fear. Doesn't anyone listen anymore? So you accept or not?"
I'd be a fool to refuse so I jumped at his offer immediately thanking him for the chance.
He pulled something black and long it looked like a finger for a moment before he lit it and the smell hit me, he rose grabbing his scythe he said, "you ready for a second chance?" Before he whisked me away to the afterlife where after many attempts we glitched him into the wall.
"So you see that's why I'm late to dinner, I woke up at home in bed and had to rush over here."
"Do you really expect me to believe that crazy story? Fuck it I can't take it anymore, whatever drugs you're doing I don't want any part of this I'll have your shit ready for you tomorrow just get out of here David I can't even look at you."
And with that she slammed the door on me and left me in the rain. Ah well maybe death Jr is still online.
| |
[WP] You die in your girlfriends arms after saving her from a careless driver. Suddenly you wake up in your bed, completely healed and your clothes fixed. You look over and see death sitting at your desk. “Okay hear me out,” it says. “I’ve been playing this video game, and I wanna try something...” | Breathe in.
I remember there wasn't much pain, not like you'd expect. The adrenaline dulled it, made it seem far away. My breathing shallowed, my head got light, my vision dimmed. I was still alive, and she found me where the truck had thrown me. She was holding me, calling for help. I remember shoving her out of the way just before the truck hit me; I must have pushed her far enough, because she wasn't hurt.
I remember dying.
Breathe out.
I have a hard time putting into words how happy I was in that moment. Laying there under the covers, warm and comfortable, unharmed, alive. Or at least something analogous to alive. Equal to alive. Undead? Who cared.
I was an atheist. I believed there was no afterlife, no gods, nothing waiting for me after my death. And I had a good life, so I wanted to keep it as long as possible. Maybe forever, if given the chance.
**WERE YOU ONE OF THE ANNOYING ONES?**
What?
**THE ANNOYING ONES. ATHEISTS. THE HOLIER-THAN-THOU ONES, MINUS THE HOLY BIT.**
I used to be, I think. But I grew out of it after a while.
**LOOK UP, YOUNG ONE. LOOK UPON ME.**
I sit up and look around my bedroom. It's exactly as it was yesterday, not a single detail out of place. I don't have an eidetic memory, but it looks real. Feels real. And there, standing by the door, is Death. I can tell immediately by looking at him, there's no way this entity could be anything but Death, the OG Classic Death too.
He's tall, over six feet, and made up of nothing but bone. Terribly old, sunbleached white bone. There's a sense of cleanliness to him, immaculate perfection, no dirt or rot on those bones. He's almost like a statue of porcelain, wrapped about with a black robe that hangs loosely on him. The robe does nothing to hide how thin he is; I can see the shapes of his shoulder bones and pelvis through the thin cloth.
And in his right hand, a scythe. Black the handle, gleaming silver the blade, long and thin with delicate engravings that might be ancient language, or perhaps purely decorative without meaning. Again the indication of unfathomed age but no wear; the tool's edge was pristinely sharp.
**I CAN HEAR YOU. STOP FAWNING OVER ME; IT'S UNSETTLING.**
I almost laughed. The thought of Death finding anything unsettling just seemed-
**STOP THAT. FOCUS ON ME. I HAVE COME TO ENLIST YOUR HELP WITH A VERY SPECIFIC PROJECT.**
...Project? What's going on? Why am I still alive? Am I, really?
**YOU DIED. NOW YOU LIVE. I DIDN'T RESURRECT YOU; DIDN'T BRING YOU BACK. YOU'RE HERE NOW BECAUSE I SUBVERTED THE PROCESS BY WHICH YOU WOULD HAVE GONE ANYWHERE.**
Why? I mean, thank you, but why?
**OKAY, HEAR ME OUT.** Hesitance. Nervousness. Uncertainty. **I'VE BEEN PLAYING THIS VIDEO GAME AND I WANT TO TRY SOMETHING.**
In Death's left hand was a physical copy of Dark Souls. Okay, come on, you can't really expect me to not have an internal monologue about how ridiculous this is. You're Death. You can't just play video games.
**TWO HUMAN BEINGS DIE EVERY SECOND. I APPEAR BEFORE THEM ALL AND TAKE THEM TO THE NEXT LIFE. FROM THIS YOU CONCLUDE THAT I AM OMNIPRESENT, I EXIST IN ALL PLACES AT ONCE, AND THE NUMBER OF TASKS I CAN PERFORM SIMULTANEOUSLY HAS NO LIMIT. YES, I PLAY VIDEO GAMES. I DO MANY OTHER THINGS AS WELL.**
...
**SO YOU UNDERSTAND. GOOD. I HAVE BEEN PLAYING THIS GAME AND HAVE CLOCKED SEVERAL THOUSAND HOURS ON IT ALONE. I HAVE HAD AN EPIPHANY. THE SYSTEM OF DEATH AND AFTERLIFE WHICH I CURRENTLY ADMINISTRATE IS COUNTERPRODUCTIVE AND LEAVES ROOM FOR VAST IMPROVEMENT.**
So, what? You'll just stop killing people?
**I DO NOT KILL PEOPLE. I AM DEATH. PEOPLE DIE, AND THAT IS WHAT I AM. IT IS BEYOND ME TO AVERT THIS PROCESS, TO DO SO WOULD BE TO DESTROY MYSELF, BUT I CAN CHANGE IT. CHANGE THE RESULT. CHANGE MYSELF.**
A respawn mechanic as opposed to permadeath.
**YES.**
The implications are... huge. Mind-boggling. A total change to civilization. If no one ever stays dead... we'd need to reallocate populations, spread them out more evenly, and limit how many children people could have. Murder wouldn't be one of the most serious crimes. What about food? People could still starve to death, but they'd come back. We'd have to do something about world hunger, but the pressure of time would be so much lighter. Diseases and nukes wouldn't be anywhere near as scary... this would be... this would be...
**MORE CONDUCIVE TO PLAYER ENJOYMENT. HARDCORE MODE ONLY APPEALS TO A SPECIFIC MINORITY OF PLAYERS. THE OTHERS LOSE ALL PROGRESS AND ARE FORCED INTO A SECOND RUN WHICH THEY TEND NOT TO FULLY ENJOY, DESPITE ITS AMENITIES.**
You're talking about the afterlife. Holy shit, you're saying the afterlife sucks.
**THE AFTERLIFE DOES NOT SUCK. BUT THE LOSS OF ONE'S PROPER FIRST LIFE UPSETS AND SADDENS MANY PEOPLE UPON THEIR ARRIVAL. A RESPAWN SYSTEM WOULD ABSOLVE THIS PROBLEM BY ALLOWING PLAYERS TO REAP THE FULL BENEFITS AND PLEASURE OUT OF THEIR FIRST LIVES... AND ONLY THEN PROCEED TO NEW GAME PLUS.**
Death gestured to me with his scythe. It wasn't a threat, but it was still hard not to be terrified of him, especially since he'd made clear he didn't enjoy the internal monologue I was currently interrupting him with-
**YOU ARE THE FIRST. WE HAVE MANY ISSUES TO SOLVE BEFORE THIS UPDATE GOES LIVE. THE GAME BALANCE MUST BE PRESERVED, DEATH MUST STILL HAVE CONSEQUENCES. GLITCHES MUST BE PATCHED. LEGACY ACCOUNTS MUST BE AFFORDED ACCESS TO NEW CONTENT.**
Holy shit. Holy shit.
**NATURALLY WE WILL RESOLVE THIS, AS IS TRADITION, WITH CLOSED ALPHA AND BETA TESTS. GET UP. WE HAVE WORK TO DO.**
| I blinked myself back into existence and a brick dropped deep in my stomach. Flailing around, I pulled at the bedcovers and couldn't remember how I got there. The room was all blurry still and it seemed the floor was being stretched and pulled out from under me. This is why I can't stand hangovers. But I suppose people rarely do. I rolled over to prod Cassie awake for morning sex and it hit me that I hadn't been drinking the night before.
With freshly skidded boxers, I bolted out of bed then it all started to bubble back up in my brain. Last thing I saw before waking was Cassie bathed in the yellowish light beaming out from the taxi cab. I must've ran out in front. I flung her to the side of the road and then the last thing was the driver skirling to a stop with sheer dumb terror spread across his face. I ground my molars thinking about the sickening crack my skull had made on the asphalt then - surprised, running my hand along the back of my head, I found no cut, no wound and no caked up blood either.
Confusion whirled around inside me and I had no other thought than to find Cassie. Had I dreamt the accident up? Was she okay? How did I end up back home in bed? I thought maybe I'd have to phone up all the hospitals in the tri-state area and, callous as it sounds, I considered how I'd explain it all to her mother without her getting too mad at me. Pulling on an old woolly jumper, I ran out into the lounge yelling 'Cassie! Cassie, you home?’ and ran smack bang into a hooded figure reclining on the sofa. I leaped up about ten feet as if someone had sparked a fire cracker beneath my ass. I lunged over to the other side of the room and ripped my limited edition *Sopranos* bat down off the wall. 'Who the fuck are you?’ and 'What have you done with Cassie?’ I yelled.
'Relax dude.’ he said turning to look at me. I let out a shriek and felt a warm streak of piss snake its way down my thigh. Staring back at me are two hollowed out black abysses sunk into a pearlescent bone skull beneath a black cloak. 'Dude chill.’ he said, lifting a bong to his mouth. 'I sent her off to stay with her aunt for a while.’ The bong water gurgled and he let out a splutter and a cloud of smoke erupted from his mouth filling up the room.
'What’s happening? Who are you?” I said trembling.
'Well my man, you like totally died and shit last night.’ I could feel a film of cold sweat gathering between my palm and the wood. 'I mean like, you bust your head wide open on the pavement dude. There was blood and bits of brain and stuff spilling out all over. That shit was gnarly man.’
'But Cassie? Wait - her aunt's been dead for six years.’
'Oh.’ he said cocking his head. 'Yeah not gonna lie, I was pretty wasted last night man so I mighta dropped her over in that other place by mistake.’ I stared at him in disbelief, unable to make sense of any of it. He clicked a lighter at the end of the bong but sparks wisped and fizzled out. 'Shit. Don’t worry my dude, we can go get her once we’re done you see, well, depending how it goes.’
'I don't understand.’
‘Well, see, I’ve been playing some video games lately and well y'know, it gets all boring ferrying people back and forth all day across the bridge to the nether world and stuff. It's just like the mundanity of it dude. You really don't understand.’ I flinched as he pulled himself forward on the sofa toward me, he started waving his bony hands around the room all excited like. 'I mean it's so repetitive and I’m actually an arts major originally, y’know? Don't get me wrong, this gig was alright to begin with but I didn't expect to wind up doing this for all eternity, y’know? I always pictured myself doing more creative kinda work, you feel me? Important stuff, interesting stuff, y’know?’
'I don't know what the hell you're talking about or what it's gotta do with me buddy.’ I said, feeling a little braver; as brave as a man could feel after he's just done soiling himself.
'Let me explain.’ He said rambling on again. 'Like I say, I’ve been playing video games and all and it occurred to me: hey what if we did a respawn y’know? Like in the games but in real life. So I shut off the switch for you all, y’know? You should be happy my dude, you’ve practically got twenty-four hours of immortality.’ With a swift flick of the wrist he checked his watch. 'Starting...now.’
'What? Why only twenty-four hours, why now?’
Just then a smattering of gunfire rang out from far off, coming from what sounded like the downstairs lobby.
'Highest kill streaks get to live.’ he said before vanishing with a loud pop into thin air. | |
[WP] You die in your girlfriends arms after saving her from a careless driver. Suddenly you wake up in your bed, completely healed and your clothes fixed. You look over and see death sitting at your desk. “Okay hear me out,” it says. “I’ve been playing this video game, and I wanna try something...” | Jim awoke in on his bed. He had fuzzy memories of moments before. He remembered flashing lights, the sounds of a stretcher, some electric sounds and then a blank. As he tried to think back, each time the memory recycled after the electric shock, a sharp pain would strike from his side causing his thoughts to subside.
He looked around him and everything looked to be the ordinary. However, sitting by his desk, playing with some miniature figures was a stranger in a dark cloak.
Jim gulped. The stranger turned over and noticed him. The stranger had no face, instead there was this pitch dark hole in its place. When Jim looked into it, he felt an unsettling presence that caused his bones to rattle and his blood turn cold.
“Ah, Jim, my boy, you’re awake. Come, come, let us play a game,” spoke the stranger with enthusiasm.
Jim wanted to refuse, but the stranger came over and stretching its bony fingers, it clasped Jim’s hands in its. It lead Jim over to his tv set. Jim obeyed silently without hesitation. He was frozen in place and acted like a robot. The stranger held some power over him that he could not escape from.
The stranger sat Jim upon a cushion as it grabbed a nearby one for itself. It handed a controller over to Jim as it placed a special cartridge into the old console. The television set booted up and a scene began to play.
“Alright Jim, I’m going to be relaxing while you play. Probably fixing some bugs as the game rolls. It’s a prototype, you know, so its bound to have a few issues here and there. As for you, your job is to enjoy it.”
Jim nodded. On the screen, a baby was crying as its parents came over to check up on him. A cutscene flashed as the parents conversed. The chapter ended and Jim found the child pushed a couple years into the future. He was grown up now, in high school. Jim was given multiple choices which he randomly chose, not caring about the after-effects or consequences.
“Oh hey, Jim. That’s pretty good, your avatar has a girlfriend this early?” the stranger joked.
Jim walked the on-screen character home and found out the father had died years back. He played a couple mini-games which depending on his score offered him different rewards. He chose to pass on the harder difficulties, choosing the easier games for their simplicity. Another chapter ended and Jim found the character raddled in a mound of debt, his girlfriend pregnant and his mother hooked to cocaine.
“How could this happen? I just picked the easy route, I didn’t want this!” cried Jim. He threw away the controller which the stranger caught mid-air.
“Jim, you made these decisions and you live with the consequences,” it replied. The stranger handed the controller back into Jim’s hands. “Now play.”
The next chapter opened up with the on-screen character moved far away from his home in the future. His mother had been jailed, his previous girlfriend having a failed birth followed by suicide. Jim opened up the character’s stat screen and found all the previous high stat allocations in the dumpster. He tried to get the man a job, but his lack of education or credentials denied him everything. Jim began to cry.
“What do I do?” he sobbed.
“What do you mean, what do you do? You live and die by the consequences of your actions. Jim, shouldn’t you be asking yourself that?” snickered the stranger.
Jim toiled through another chapter and found his avatar to be beat up and thrown onto the street on the verge of dying. As his avatar was about to succumb to his grievances, a flash of light flickered and an on-screen woman appeared. She raised his avatar back on his feet, properly fed him and clothed him.
“Is this my redemption? Also that woman, she looks a lot like Angela.” stated Jim.
“Perhaps,” answered the stranger.
The game continued to roll as Jim found his avatar’s life to get better. Soon the avatar had a stable job, a proper residence and was dating the woman. But Jim found his character to have random outbursts of dark behaviour. His avatar would snicker behind the woman’s back, doubting her and criticizing her. He’d also see his avatar visit clubs and sleep with other women given the opportunity. And at the climax of the chapter, his character beat the woman when she confronted him about this.
“How do I get him to stop? She’s already saved him and he treats her like this? Why?” Jim tried to grab the stranger’s cloak but it dispersed from his hands.
“Why does he act like this, Jim?” asked the stranger.
Jim gulped as he realized the truth of the game. The chapter ended and he found the avatar and the woman out on a date. They ate and finished, then began a walk out back to their apartment. As they did, a drunk driver sped towards them. Jim wanted to close his eyes as he assumed the worst, but the stranger did not let him. The following scene surprised him as he found his avatar to have leapt in the woman’s path to push her away to safety and take the car’s impact himself.
The screen shut off as Jim felt a sharp pain on his side. He touched that area and found his hand covered in blood. He screamed.
“Stranger, am I dead?” he shouted.
“Perhaps, maybe and maybe not. If you weren’t by chance, what are your next steps?” The stranger unveiled his face as Jim stared into a reflection of himself.
Jim coughed and vomited. The two of them remained in their positions as time passed. Eventually, Jim came upon a conclusion, as he began to accept his reality.
“Death, if that is your preferred name. Before we descend to hell together where I truly belong, could you grant me a wish?”
“And what would that be?”
Jim cleared his throat. “I want Angela to have a better life. I want her to know that I’m sorry for all I’ve done and that she deserves far better. Take me away, but please make sure that she spends the rest of her life in happiness.”
Death laughed. “You silly mortal, you really think that I have the power to grant people joy? You’ve played your game and everything that you humans do contributes to your consequences and rewards. It is your own free will and choices that decides the outcomes of your lives. I, Death, can promise no such possibility.”
Jim laughed. “What was I to expect as well? I, a bright example of human refuse demanding such things from an ethereal entity.”
Death placed its arm around Jim’s shoulder as the two of them laughed aloud together. “To tell you the truth, Jim. I do kind of enjoy your company, but there is a duty I must upkeep.”
“And what is that, Death?”
Death stabbed its arm into Jim’s side as Jim experienced dying ten times over. “I am the reaper, I harvest the consequences of the human soul. You shall suffer pain over and over again, for this is your sin.”
Jim screamed and winced in suffering. He closed his eyes and awoke on a hospital bed, Angela resting her head against his leg. | Richard never thought he’d die saving his girlfriend. And he often said he’d stop a bullet for her. But that was it right, it was just talk. Everyone said those things, he never thought he would do it literally.
Walked out of the wrong movie theater at the wrong time and some thug just needed money. When he pulled the gun on the pair and Richard told him to “Fuck off” he didn’t think this lowlife would actually shoot him.
But why was he awake, and where was he. It didn’t look like a hospital. He was still in his clothes from the night before but they weren’t covered in blood like before.
Richard actually felt great. He had been achy and moody lately, but right now he felt like he could take on the world. He would worry about the details of his health later he just felt too good.
That’s when he noticed the man next to his beside. “Was he there a minute ago,” thought Richard.
The man had no defining features, the kind of person you glance over and forget. This woman was forgettable even while staring straight at him. It took conscious effort to notice him.
“Good morning Richard.” Said the monotone voice.
“As you have noticed you are alive, you’re welcome. I have, let’s say resurrected you, from your demise. You see I have started gaming, and it is tremendously fun, but single player games have started to become mundane. I’m looking for someone to play against and you seemed like an ideal candidate.
Richard, thought a moment, this was GREAT! He was still alive and all he had to do was play games with death. Sure he had seen movies where this ended poorly and he would surely die if he lost but for the moment he had a second chance. A renewed vigor for life. He would take advantage of this.
“Well sir, what were you thinking of playing first?”
“First? Hmm, I hadn’t given it much thought, I figured one game would be just like the other so one would suffice.”
“Not in the least,” said Richard. “Also have you ever considered co-op games before?”
“I had not.”
Richard grew excited. He had thousands of games he could play with this man. He could do this forever.
“Let’s start with a co-op game so I can gauge your skill,” said Richard. Pulling out Portal 2.
Richard began setting up the game and the console and gave the man a controller. Richard himself took up as first player.
The man and Richard played all night. To Richard’s surprise the man was exceptionally good. They beat it in just one night.
The next day Richard told the man that he had another game they should play, but he’d have to go out and get it. It wouldn’t take long and he would be right back.
The man let Richard leave.
Richard ran out, the first thing he went to do was to see his girlfriend. She was shocked to see him and didn’t believe his story, bu how else could he be here.
After several hours with her he told her it was time to go. He needed to pick up another multiplayer game before the man was on to him.
And that was Richards routine. Every day he would go and see his girlfriend. Spending time with her and treating ever day like it was his last. He never knew when this man might tire of games. And ever night playing a new game with the man.
Richard was living a full life. The man took care of money so all Richard had to do was keep him company.
After several years he started to see age in his girlfriend, age that had not affected him. When he thought he would play games with this man forever hadn’t realized how right he was...
| |
[WP] You die in your girlfriends arms after saving her from a careless driver. Suddenly you wake up in your bed, completely healed and your clothes fixed. You look over and see death sitting at your desk. “Okay hear me out,” it says. “I’ve been playing this video game, and I wanna try something...” | Breathe in.
I remember there wasn't much pain, not like you'd expect. The adrenaline dulled it, made it seem far away. My breathing shallowed, my head got light, my vision dimmed. I was still alive, and she found me where the truck had thrown me. She was holding me, calling for help. I remember shoving her out of the way just before the truck hit me; I must have pushed her far enough, because she wasn't hurt.
I remember dying.
Breathe out.
I have a hard time putting into words how happy I was in that moment. Laying there under the covers, warm and comfortable, unharmed, alive. Or at least something analogous to alive. Equal to alive. Undead? Who cared.
I was an atheist. I believed there was no afterlife, no gods, nothing waiting for me after my death. And I had a good life, so I wanted to keep it as long as possible. Maybe forever, if given the chance.
**WERE YOU ONE OF THE ANNOYING ONES?**
What?
**THE ANNOYING ONES. ATHEISTS. THE HOLIER-THAN-THOU ONES, MINUS THE HOLY BIT.**
I used to be, I think. But I grew out of it after a while.
**LOOK UP, YOUNG ONE. LOOK UPON ME.**
I sit up and look around my bedroom. It's exactly as it was yesterday, not a single detail out of place. I don't have an eidetic memory, but it looks real. Feels real. And there, standing by the door, is Death. I can tell immediately by looking at him, there's no way this entity could be anything but Death, the OG Classic Death too.
He's tall, over six feet, and made up of nothing but bone. Terribly old, sunbleached white bone. There's a sense of cleanliness to him, immaculate perfection, no dirt or rot on those bones. He's almost like a statue of porcelain, wrapped about with a black robe that hangs loosely on him. The robe does nothing to hide how thin he is; I can see the shapes of his shoulder bones and pelvis through the thin cloth.
And in his right hand, a scythe. Black the handle, gleaming silver the blade, long and thin with delicate engravings that might be ancient language, or perhaps purely decorative without meaning. Again the indication of unfathomed age but no wear; the tool's edge was pristinely sharp.
**I CAN HEAR YOU. STOP FAWNING OVER ME; IT'S UNSETTLING.**
I almost laughed. The thought of Death finding anything unsettling just seemed-
**STOP THAT. FOCUS ON ME. I HAVE COME TO ENLIST YOUR HELP WITH A VERY SPECIFIC PROJECT.**
...Project? What's going on? Why am I still alive? Am I, really?
**YOU DIED. NOW YOU LIVE. I DIDN'T RESURRECT YOU; DIDN'T BRING YOU BACK. YOU'RE HERE NOW BECAUSE I SUBVERTED THE PROCESS BY WHICH YOU WOULD HAVE GONE ANYWHERE.**
Why? I mean, thank you, but why?
**OKAY, HEAR ME OUT.** Hesitance. Nervousness. Uncertainty. **I'VE BEEN PLAYING THIS VIDEO GAME AND I WANT TO TRY SOMETHING.**
In Death's left hand was a physical copy of Dark Souls. Okay, come on, you can't really expect me to not have an internal monologue about how ridiculous this is. You're Death. You can't just play video games.
**TWO HUMAN BEINGS DIE EVERY SECOND. I APPEAR BEFORE THEM ALL AND TAKE THEM TO THE NEXT LIFE. FROM THIS YOU CONCLUDE THAT I AM OMNIPRESENT, I EXIST IN ALL PLACES AT ONCE, AND THE NUMBER OF TASKS I CAN PERFORM SIMULTANEOUSLY HAS NO LIMIT. YES, I PLAY VIDEO GAMES. I DO MANY OTHER THINGS AS WELL.**
...
**SO YOU UNDERSTAND. GOOD. I HAVE BEEN PLAYING THIS GAME AND HAVE CLOCKED SEVERAL THOUSAND HOURS ON IT ALONE. I HAVE HAD AN EPIPHANY. THE SYSTEM OF DEATH AND AFTERLIFE WHICH I CURRENTLY ADMINISTRATE IS COUNTERPRODUCTIVE AND LEAVES ROOM FOR VAST IMPROVEMENT.**
So, what? You'll just stop killing people?
**I DO NOT KILL PEOPLE. I AM DEATH. PEOPLE DIE, AND THAT IS WHAT I AM. IT IS BEYOND ME TO AVERT THIS PROCESS, TO DO SO WOULD BE TO DESTROY MYSELF, BUT I CAN CHANGE IT. CHANGE THE RESULT. CHANGE MYSELF.**
A respawn mechanic as opposed to permadeath.
**YES.**
The implications are... huge. Mind-boggling. A total change to civilization. If no one ever stays dead... we'd need to reallocate populations, spread them out more evenly, and limit how many children people could have. Murder wouldn't be one of the most serious crimes. What about food? People could still starve to death, but they'd come back. We'd have to do something about world hunger, but the pressure of time would be so much lighter. Diseases and nukes wouldn't be anywhere near as scary... this would be... this would be...
**MORE CONDUCIVE TO PLAYER ENJOYMENT. HARDCORE MODE ONLY APPEALS TO A SPECIFIC MINORITY OF PLAYERS. THE OTHERS LOSE ALL PROGRESS AND ARE FORCED INTO A SECOND RUN WHICH THEY TEND NOT TO FULLY ENJOY, DESPITE ITS AMENITIES.**
You're talking about the afterlife. Holy shit, you're saying the afterlife sucks.
**THE AFTERLIFE DOES NOT SUCK. BUT THE LOSS OF ONE'S PROPER FIRST LIFE UPSETS AND SADDENS MANY PEOPLE UPON THEIR ARRIVAL. A RESPAWN SYSTEM WOULD ABSOLVE THIS PROBLEM BY ALLOWING PLAYERS TO REAP THE FULL BENEFITS AND PLEASURE OUT OF THEIR FIRST LIVES... AND ONLY THEN PROCEED TO NEW GAME PLUS.**
Death gestured to me with his scythe. It wasn't a threat, but it was still hard not to be terrified of him, especially since he'd made clear he didn't enjoy the internal monologue I was currently interrupting him with-
**YOU ARE THE FIRST. WE HAVE MANY ISSUES TO SOLVE BEFORE THIS UPDATE GOES LIVE. THE GAME BALANCE MUST BE PRESERVED, DEATH MUST STILL HAVE CONSEQUENCES. GLITCHES MUST BE PATCHED. LEGACY ACCOUNTS MUST BE AFFORDED ACCESS TO NEW CONTENT.**
Holy shit. Holy shit.
**NATURALLY WE WILL RESOLVE THIS, AS IS TRADITION, WITH CLOSED ALPHA AND BETA TESTS. GET UP. WE HAVE WORK TO DO.**
| Richard never thought he’d die saving his girlfriend. And he often said he’d stop a bullet for her. But that was it right, it was just talk. Everyone said those things, he never thought he would do it literally.
Walked out of the wrong movie theater at the wrong time and some thug just needed money. When he pulled the gun on the pair and Richard told him to “Fuck off” he didn’t think this lowlife would actually shoot him.
But why was he awake, and where was he. It didn’t look like a hospital. He was still in his clothes from the night before but they weren’t covered in blood like before.
Richard actually felt great. He had been achy and moody lately, but right now he felt like he could take on the world. He would worry about the details of his health later he just felt too good.
That’s when he noticed the man next to his beside. “Was he there a minute ago,” thought Richard.
The man had no defining features, the kind of person you glance over and forget. This woman was forgettable even while staring straight at him. It took conscious effort to notice him.
“Good morning Richard.” Said the monotone voice.
“As you have noticed you are alive, you’re welcome. I have, let’s say resurrected you, from your demise. You see I have started gaming, and it is tremendously fun, but single player games have started to become mundane. I’m looking for someone to play against and you seemed like an ideal candidate.
Richard, thought a moment, this was GREAT! He was still alive and all he had to do was play games with death. Sure he had seen movies where this ended poorly and he would surely die if he lost but for the moment he had a second chance. A renewed vigor for life. He would take advantage of this.
“Well sir, what were you thinking of playing first?”
“First? Hmm, I hadn’t given it much thought, I figured one game would be just like the other so one would suffice.”
“Not in the least,” said Richard. “Also have you ever considered co-op games before?”
“I had not.”
Richard grew excited. He had thousands of games he could play with this man. He could do this forever.
“Let’s start with a co-op game so I can gauge your skill,” said Richard. Pulling out Portal 2.
Richard began setting up the game and the console and gave the man a controller. Richard himself took up as first player.
The man and Richard played all night. To Richard’s surprise the man was exceptionally good. They beat it in just one night.
The next day Richard told the man that he had another game they should play, but he’d have to go out and get it. It wouldn’t take long and he would be right back.
The man let Richard leave.
Richard ran out, the first thing he went to do was to see his girlfriend. She was shocked to see him and didn’t believe his story, bu how else could he be here.
After several hours with her he told her it was time to go. He needed to pick up another multiplayer game before the man was on to him.
And that was Richards routine. Every day he would go and see his girlfriend. Spending time with her and treating ever day like it was his last. He never knew when this man might tire of games. And ever night playing a new game with the man.
Richard was living a full life. The man took care of money so all Richard had to do was keep him company.
After several years he started to see age in his girlfriend, age that had not affected him. When he thought he would play games with this man forever hadn’t realized how right he was...
| |
[WP] You die in your girlfriends arms after saving her from a careless driver. Suddenly you wake up in your bed, completely healed and your clothes fixed. You look over and see death sitting at your desk. “Okay hear me out,” it says. “I’ve been playing this video game, and I wanna try something...” | Breathe in.
I remember there wasn't much pain, not like you'd expect. The adrenaline dulled it, made it seem far away. My breathing shallowed, my head got light, my vision dimmed. I was still alive, and she found me where the truck had thrown me. She was holding me, calling for help. I remember shoving her out of the way just before the truck hit me; I must have pushed her far enough, because she wasn't hurt.
I remember dying.
Breathe out.
I have a hard time putting into words how happy I was in that moment. Laying there under the covers, warm and comfortable, unharmed, alive. Or at least something analogous to alive. Equal to alive. Undead? Who cared.
I was an atheist. I believed there was no afterlife, no gods, nothing waiting for me after my death. And I had a good life, so I wanted to keep it as long as possible. Maybe forever, if given the chance.
**WERE YOU ONE OF THE ANNOYING ONES?**
What?
**THE ANNOYING ONES. ATHEISTS. THE HOLIER-THAN-THOU ONES, MINUS THE HOLY BIT.**
I used to be, I think. But I grew out of it after a while.
**LOOK UP, YOUNG ONE. LOOK UPON ME.**
I sit up and look around my bedroom. It's exactly as it was yesterday, not a single detail out of place. I don't have an eidetic memory, but it looks real. Feels real. And there, standing by the door, is Death. I can tell immediately by looking at him, there's no way this entity could be anything but Death, the OG Classic Death too.
He's tall, over six feet, and made up of nothing but bone. Terribly old, sunbleached white bone. There's a sense of cleanliness to him, immaculate perfection, no dirt or rot on those bones. He's almost like a statue of porcelain, wrapped about with a black robe that hangs loosely on him. The robe does nothing to hide how thin he is; I can see the shapes of his shoulder bones and pelvis through the thin cloth.
And in his right hand, a scythe. Black the handle, gleaming silver the blade, long and thin with delicate engravings that might be ancient language, or perhaps purely decorative without meaning. Again the indication of unfathomed age but no wear; the tool's edge was pristinely sharp.
**I CAN HEAR YOU. STOP FAWNING OVER ME; IT'S UNSETTLING.**
I almost laughed. The thought of Death finding anything unsettling just seemed-
**STOP THAT. FOCUS ON ME. I HAVE COME TO ENLIST YOUR HELP WITH A VERY SPECIFIC PROJECT.**
...Project? What's going on? Why am I still alive? Am I, really?
**YOU DIED. NOW YOU LIVE. I DIDN'T RESURRECT YOU; DIDN'T BRING YOU BACK. YOU'RE HERE NOW BECAUSE I SUBVERTED THE PROCESS BY WHICH YOU WOULD HAVE GONE ANYWHERE.**
Why? I mean, thank you, but why?
**OKAY, HEAR ME OUT.** Hesitance. Nervousness. Uncertainty. **I'VE BEEN PLAYING THIS VIDEO GAME AND I WANT TO TRY SOMETHING.**
In Death's left hand was a physical copy of Dark Souls. Okay, come on, you can't really expect me to not have an internal monologue about how ridiculous this is. You're Death. You can't just play video games.
**TWO HUMAN BEINGS DIE EVERY SECOND. I APPEAR BEFORE THEM ALL AND TAKE THEM TO THE NEXT LIFE. FROM THIS YOU CONCLUDE THAT I AM OMNIPRESENT, I EXIST IN ALL PLACES AT ONCE, AND THE NUMBER OF TASKS I CAN PERFORM SIMULTANEOUSLY HAS NO LIMIT. YES, I PLAY VIDEO GAMES. I DO MANY OTHER THINGS AS WELL.**
...
**SO YOU UNDERSTAND. GOOD. I HAVE BEEN PLAYING THIS GAME AND HAVE CLOCKED SEVERAL THOUSAND HOURS ON IT ALONE. I HAVE HAD AN EPIPHANY. THE SYSTEM OF DEATH AND AFTERLIFE WHICH I CURRENTLY ADMINISTRATE IS COUNTERPRODUCTIVE AND LEAVES ROOM FOR VAST IMPROVEMENT.**
So, what? You'll just stop killing people?
**I DO NOT KILL PEOPLE. I AM DEATH. PEOPLE DIE, AND THAT IS WHAT I AM. IT IS BEYOND ME TO AVERT THIS PROCESS, TO DO SO WOULD BE TO DESTROY MYSELF, BUT I CAN CHANGE IT. CHANGE THE RESULT. CHANGE MYSELF.**
A respawn mechanic as opposed to permadeath.
**YES.**
The implications are... huge. Mind-boggling. A total change to civilization. If no one ever stays dead... we'd need to reallocate populations, spread them out more evenly, and limit how many children people could have. Murder wouldn't be one of the most serious crimes. What about food? People could still starve to death, but they'd come back. We'd have to do something about world hunger, but the pressure of time would be so much lighter. Diseases and nukes wouldn't be anywhere near as scary... this would be... this would be...
**MORE CONDUCIVE TO PLAYER ENJOYMENT. HARDCORE MODE ONLY APPEALS TO A SPECIFIC MINORITY OF PLAYERS. THE OTHERS LOSE ALL PROGRESS AND ARE FORCED INTO A SECOND RUN WHICH THEY TEND NOT TO FULLY ENJOY, DESPITE ITS AMENITIES.**
You're talking about the afterlife. Holy shit, you're saying the afterlife sucks.
**THE AFTERLIFE DOES NOT SUCK. BUT THE LOSS OF ONE'S PROPER FIRST LIFE UPSETS AND SADDENS MANY PEOPLE UPON THEIR ARRIVAL. A RESPAWN SYSTEM WOULD ABSOLVE THIS PROBLEM BY ALLOWING PLAYERS TO REAP THE FULL BENEFITS AND PLEASURE OUT OF THEIR FIRST LIVES... AND ONLY THEN PROCEED TO NEW GAME PLUS.**
Death gestured to me with his scythe. It wasn't a threat, but it was still hard not to be terrified of him, especially since he'd made clear he didn't enjoy the internal monologue I was currently interrupting him with-
**YOU ARE THE FIRST. WE HAVE MANY ISSUES TO SOLVE BEFORE THIS UPDATE GOES LIVE. THE GAME BALANCE MUST BE PRESERVED, DEATH MUST STILL HAVE CONSEQUENCES. GLITCHES MUST BE PATCHED. LEGACY ACCOUNTS MUST BE AFFORDED ACCESS TO NEW CONTENT.**
Holy shit. Holy shit.
**NATURALLY WE WILL RESOLVE THIS, AS IS TRADITION, WITH CLOSED ALPHA AND BETA TESTS. GET UP. WE HAVE WORK TO DO.**
| Jim awoke in on his bed. He had fuzzy memories of moments before. He remembered flashing lights, the sounds of a stretcher, some electric sounds and then a blank. As he tried to think back, each time the memory recycled after the electric shock, a sharp pain would strike from his side causing his thoughts to subside.
He looked around him and everything looked to be the ordinary. However, sitting by his desk, playing with some miniature figures was a stranger in a dark cloak.
Jim gulped. The stranger turned over and noticed him. The stranger had no face, instead there was this pitch dark hole in its place. When Jim looked into it, he felt an unsettling presence that caused his bones to rattle and his blood turn cold.
“Ah, Jim, my boy, you’re awake. Come, come, let us play a game,” spoke the stranger with enthusiasm.
Jim wanted to refuse, but the stranger came over and stretching its bony fingers, it clasped Jim’s hands in its. It lead Jim over to his tv set. Jim obeyed silently without hesitation. He was frozen in place and acted like a robot. The stranger held some power over him that he could not escape from.
The stranger sat Jim upon a cushion as it grabbed a nearby one for itself. It handed a controller over to Jim as it placed a special cartridge into the old console. The television set booted up and a scene began to play.
“Alright Jim, I’m going to be relaxing while you play. Probably fixing some bugs as the game rolls. It’s a prototype, you know, so its bound to have a few issues here and there. As for you, your job is to enjoy it.”
Jim nodded. On the screen, a baby was crying as its parents came over to check up on him. A cutscene flashed as the parents conversed. The chapter ended and Jim found the child pushed a couple years into the future. He was grown up now, in high school. Jim was given multiple choices which he randomly chose, not caring about the after-effects or consequences.
“Oh hey, Jim. That’s pretty good, your avatar has a girlfriend this early?” the stranger joked.
Jim walked the on-screen character home and found out the father had died years back. He played a couple mini-games which depending on his score offered him different rewards. He chose to pass on the harder difficulties, choosing the easier games for their simplicity. Another chapter ended and Jim found the character raddled in a mound of debt, his girlfriend pregnant and his mother hooked to cocaine.
“How could this happen? I just picked the easy route, I didn’t want this!” cried Jim. He threw away the controller which the stranger caught mid-air.
“Jim, you made these decisions and you live with the consequences,” it replied. The stranger handed the controller back into Jim’s hands. “Now play.”
The next chapter opened up with the on-screen character moved far away from his home in the future. His mother had been jailed, his previous girlfriend having a failed birth followed by suicide. Jim opened up the character’s stat screen and found all the previous high stat allocations in the dumpster. He tried to get the man a job, but his lack of education or credentials denied him everything. Jim began to cry.
“What do I do?” he sobbed.
“What do you mean, what do you do? You live and die by the consequences of your actions. Jim, shouldn’t you be asking yourself that?” snickered the stranger.
Jim toiled through another chapter and found his avatar to be beat up and thrown onto the street on the verge of dying. As his avatar was about to succumb to his grievances, a flash of light flickered and an on-screen woman appeared. She raised his avatar back on his feet, properly fed him and clothed him.
“Is this my redemption? Also that woman, she looks a lot like Angela.” stated Jim.
“Perhaps,” answered the stranger.
The game continued to roll as Jim found his avatar’s life to get better. Soon the avatar had a stable job, a proper residence and was dating the woman. But Jim found his character to have random outbursts of dark behaviour. His avatar would snicker behind the woman’s back, doubting her and criticizing her. He’d also see his avatar visit clubs and sleep with other women given the opportunity. And at the climax of the chapter, his character beat the woman when she confronted him about this.
“How do I get him to stop? She’s already saved him and he treats her like this? Why?” Jim tried to grab the stranger’s cloak but it dispersed from his hands.
“Why does he act like this, Jim?” asked the stranger.
Jim gulped as he realized the truth of the game. The chapter ended and he found the avatar and the woman out on a date. They ate and finished, then began a walk out back to their apartment. As they did, a drunk driver sped towards them. Jim wanted to close his eyes as he assumed the worst, but the stranger did not let him. The following scene surprised him as he found his avatar to have leapt in the woman’s path to push her away to safety and take the car’s impact himself.
The screen shut off as Jim felt a sharp pain on his side. He touched that area and found his hand covered in blood. He screamed.
“Stranger, am I dead?” he shouted.
“Perhaps, maybe and maybe not. If you weren’t by chance, what are your next steps?” The stranger unveiled his face as Jim stared into a reflection of himself.
Jim coughed and vomited. The two of them remained in their positions as time passed. Eventually, Jim came upon a conclusion, as he began to accept his reality.
“Death, if that is your preferred name. Before we descend to hell together where I truly belong, could you grant me a wish?”
“And what would that be?”
Jim cleared his throat. “I want Angela to have a better life. I want her to know that I’m sorry for all I’ve done and that she deserves far better. Take me away, but please make sure that she spends the rest of her life in happiness.”
Death laughed. “You silly mortal, you really think that I have the power to grant people joy? You’ve played your game and everything that you humans do contributes to your consequences and rewards. It is your own free will and choices that decides the outcomes of your lives. I, Death, can promise no such possibility.”
Jim laughed. “What was I to expect as well? I, a bright example of human refuse demanding such things from an ethereal entity.”
Death placed its arm around Jim’s shoulder as the two of them laughed aloud together. “To tell you the truth, Jim. I do kind of enjoy your company, but there is a duty I must upkeep.”
“And what is that, Death?”
Death stabbed its arm into Jim’s side as Jim experienced dying ten times over. “I am the reaper, I harvest the consequences of the human soul. You shall suffer pain over and over again, for this is your sin.”
Jim screamed and winced in suffering. He closed his eyes and awoke on a hospital bed, Angela resting her head against his leg. | |
[WP] You die in your girlfriends arms after saving her from a careless driver. Suddenly you wake up in your bed, completely healed and your clothes fixed. You look over and see death sitting at your desk. “Okay hear me out,” it says. “I’ve been playing this video game, and I wanna try something...” | Breathe in.
I remember there wasn't much pain, not like you'd expect. The adrenaline dulled it, made it seem far away. My breathing shallowed, my head got light, my vision dimmed. I was still alive, and she found me where the truck had thrown me. She was holding me, calling for help. I remember shoving her out of the way just before the truck hit me; I must have pushed her far enough, because she wasn't hurt.
I remember dying.
Breathe out.
I have a hard time putting into words how happy I was in that moment. Laying there under the covers, warm and comfortable, unharmed, alive. Or at least something analogous to alive. Equal to alive. Undead? Who cared.
I was an atheist. I believed there was no afterlife, no gods, nothing waiting for me after my death. And I had a good life, so I wanted to keep it as long as possible. Maybe forever, if given the chance.
**WERE YOU ONE OF THE ANNOYING ONES?**
What?
**THE ANNOYING ONES. ATHEISTS. THE HOLIER-THAN-THOU ONES, MINUS THE HOLY BIT.**
I used to be, I think. But I grew out of it after a while.
**LOOK UP, YOUNG ONE. LOOK UPON ME.**
I sit up and look around my bedroom. It's exactly as it was yesterday, not a single detail out of place. I don't have an eidetic memory, but it looks real. Feels real. And there, standing by the door, is Death. I can tell immediately by looking at him, there's no way this entity could be anything but Death, the OG Classic Death too.
He's tall, over six feet, and made up of nothing but bone. Terribly old, sunbleached white bone. There's a sense of cleanliness to him, immaculate perfection, no dirt or rot on those bones. He's almost like a statue of porcelain, wrapped about with a black robe that hangs loosely on him. The robe does nothing to hide how thin he is; I can see the shapes of his shoulder bones and pelvis through the thin cloth.
And in his right hand, a scythe. Black the handle, gleaming silver the blade, long and thin with delicate engravings that might be ancient language, or perhaps purely decorative without meaning. Again the indication of unfathomed age but no wear; the tool's edge was pristinely sharp.
**I CAN HEAR YOU. STOP FAWNING OVER ME; IT'S UNSETTLING.**
I almost laughed. The thought of Death finding anything unsettling just seemed-
**STOP THAT. FOCUS ON ME. I HAVE COME TO ENLIST YOUR HELP WITH A VERY SPECIFIC PROJECT.**
...Project? What's going on? Why am I still alive? Am I, really?
**YOU DIED. NOW YOU LIVE. I DIDN'T RESURRECT YOU; DIDN'T BRING YOU BACK. YOU'RE HERE NOW BECAUSE I SUBVERTED THE PROCESS BY WHICH YOU WOULD HAVE GONE ANYWHERE.**
Why? I mean, thank you, but why?
**OKAY, HEAR ME OUT.** Hesitance. Nervousness. Uncertainty. **I'VE BEEN PLAYING THIS VIDEO GAME AND I WANT TO TRY SOMETHING.**
In Death's left hand was a physical copy of Dark Souls. Okay, come on, you can't really expect me to not have an internal monologue about how ridiculous this is. You're Death. You can't just play video games.
**TWO HUMAN BEINGS DIE EVERY SECOND. I APPEAR BEFORE THEM ALL AND TAKE THEM TO THE NEXT LIFE. FROM THIS YOU CONCLUDE THAT I AM OMNIPRESENT, I EXIST IN ALL PLACES AT ONCE, AND THE NUMBER OF TASKS I CAN PERFORM SIMULTANEOUSLY HAS NO LIMIT. YES, I PLAY VIDEO GAMES. I DO MANY OTHER THINGS AS WELL.**
...
**SO YOU UNDERSTAND. GOOD. I HAVE BEEN PLAYING THIS GAME AND HAVE CLOCKED SEVERAL THOUSAND HOURS ON IT ALONE. I HAVE HAD AN EPIPHANY. THE SYSTEM OF DEATH AND AFTERLIFE WHICH I CURRENTLY ADMINISTRATE IS COUNTERPRODUCTIVE AND LEAVES ROOM FOR VAST IMPROVEMENT.**
So, what? You'll just stop killing people?
**I DO NOT KILL PEOPLE. I AM DEATH. PEOPLE DIE, AND THAT IS WHAT I AM. IT IS BEYOND ME TO AVERT THIS PROCESS, TO DO SO WOULD BE TO DESTROY MYSELF, BUT I CAN CHANGE IT. CHANGE THE RESULT. CHANGE MYSELF.**
A respawn mechanic as opposed to permadeath.
**YES.**
The implications are... huge. Mind-boggling. A total change to civilization. If no one ever stays dead... we'd need to reallocate populations, spread them out more evenly, and limit how many children people could have. Murder wouldn't be one of the most serious crimes. What about food? People could still starve to death, but they'd come back. We'd have to do something about world hunger, but the pressure of time would be so much lighter. Diseases and nukes wouldn't be anywhere near as scary... this would be... this would be...
**MORE CONDUCIVE TO PLAYER ENJOYMENT. HARDCORE MODE ONLY APPEALS TO A SPECIFIC MINORITY OF PLAYERS. THE OTHERS LOSE ALL PROGRESS AND ARE FORCED INTO A SECOND RUN WHICH THEY TEND NOT TO FULLY ENJOY, DESPITE ITS AMENITIES.**
You're talking about the afterlife. Holy shit, you're saying the afterlife sucks.
**THE AFTERLIFE DOES NOT SUCK. BUT THE LOSS OF ONE'S PROPER FIRST LIFE UPSETS AND SADDENS MANY PEOPLE UPON THEIR ARRIVAL. A RESPAWN SYSTEM WOULD ABSOLVE THIS PROBLEM BY ALLOWING PLAYERS TO REAP THE FULL BENEFITS AND PLEASURE OUT OF THEIR FIRST LIVES... AND ONLY THEN PROCEED TO NEW GAME PLUS.**
Death gestured to me with his scythe. It wasn't a threat, but it was still hard not to be terrified of him, especially since he'd made clear he didn't enjoy the internal monologue I was currently interrupting him with-
**YOU ARE THE FIRST. WE HAVE MANY ISSUES TO SOLVE BEFORE THIS UPDATE GOES LIVE. THE GAME BALANCE MUST BE PRESERVED, DEATH MUST STILL HAVE CONSEQUENCES. GLITCHES MUST BE PATCHED. LEGACY ACCOUNTS MUST BE AFFORDED ACCESS TO NEW CONTENT.**
Holy shit. Holy shit.
**NATURALLY WE WILL RESOLVE THIS, AS IS TRADITION, WITH CLOSED ALPHA AND BETA TESTS. GET UP. WE HAVE WORK TO DO.**
| "What?" I said confused.
"Shut up one second" Death kept mashing buttons on his obviously custom Nintendo switch. The sounds of Super Mario Odyssey filled my bedroom. "Dammit, how the hell do I get to that balloon?"
"I'm sorry uh... Mr.Death?" I asked.
"I'm more an avatar of death than anything call me Frank" He said nonchalantly.
"Frankly I'm not doing that, what the hell is going on?"
I said slightly irritated.
"Ha! Puns, anyways so yeah I've been playing this old game on my iPhone infinity" Frank said his socketless eyes never leaving the screen.
"iPhone Infinity?" I asked, somehow that was the weirdest part of this.
"Yeah, I'm not buying a new iPhone every year, so I had the angels make me a special one that gets all the features as their introduced! Anyways so yeah this old game Infinity Blade heard of it?" Frank asked finally taking his sockets off Mario.
"Yeah, it came out while I was in highschool, I don't understand where's my girlfriend? Why are my ribs not shattered? I felt myself dying, how am I here?" I wanted to be calm, but the questions were spilling out.
"One, breathe. Two, Not answering all thsoe separately. Three, I will answer them like THIS" Frank jumped up and a light shun from behind him, with Neon lights appearing in the air above him.
"I AM DEATH, AND USING MY MIGHTY ABILITIES SAVED YOU!" Frank shouted, as the neon lights above him spelled out Frank in what can only be described as bright Black. Still the least confusing thing for me to deal with today.
Frank sat back down putting his switch on my bedside table. "Yeah, but like I was saying I was playing infinite blade, the other day, and had an idea, what if I do that with you?" Frank said snapping his fingers at me. "I can see the question forming don't ask seriously, learn to roll with things man." Frank got back up going over to my computer. "You got stardew valley? Sweet! Time to farm some parsnips!" Frank said sitting down again.
"FRANK FOCUS! WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME!?" I yelled at my wit's end.
"Oh I kinda made you immortal but not like a 100% immortal just like every time you die you reset, and come back with the knowledge from that point onward" Frank said while customizing his Farmer. "Should I go for a mine farm? Nah, I'll do fishing, I feel like you can do more, and be asocial. Anyways" Frank finally spun back towards me. "If you do die you'll come back to your bed, every day is a save point that ends with you sleeping, and if you earn enough experience from your day you get...."
I stared at this manfestation of death rolling his hands in a circle like he was explaining how to start a car.
"Skill points dude you get skill points geez" Frank sighed, almost sounding..... disappointed? Turning back to Stardew Valley, and clicking through the intro he simply said.
"To answer your question I was bored, and wanted to see what happens when I flip the rules, it's why I didn't just go a 100% infinity blade on you, explaining this to your descendants would've been annoying" Death had started walking around in game. "Need a fishing rod to take advantage of my island farm....."
I couldn't believe what the fuck I was hearing this wasn't real...
"Yes it is"
I'm obviously just crazy, and in a coma...
"You're not in a coma although that'd been easier thinking back"
I need to call my girlfriend to ask what happened....
"She won't remember..."
"WOULD YOU STOP THAT!" I yelled at Frank who was wrangling in a mystery fish.
"What just trying to help! She won't remember anyways, BT dubs every time you die EVERYTHING resets so this is the morning you get hit... Aye a Tuna!" Frank spun to look at me almost *smiling* . "Pretty good catch right?"
"Wait if this is the day I get hit my GF is at the stop right now about to get hit!" I rushed to throw some pants on, and sprinted by Death.
"We-"
"We'll talk more later go rack up some xp tiger" Frank said throwing up a hand dismissing me, while casting his line again.
"When do I win?" I asked
"Huh? Is that the sound of someone getting into the game?" Frank spun around again, getting excited.
"Yes, Death I'll play your game" I spit the words out.
"Aww, I thought we were becoming friends, anyways beat the last boss, and I'll let you off the hook" Frank explained.
"Who is the last boss?" I asked.
"I'm not telling you that you'll cheat, and try to finish it quick" I could feel Frank's absent eye's roll in their sockets. "Don't you have a clumsy girlfriend to save? Remember she isn't like you did I forget to mention that? If people die before you do they don't come back. I still gotta pretend to do my job, dude don't look shocked."
"SHIT" I sprinted down the hall leaving my room.
Frank went back to Stardew Valley, casting off again. "So are you gonna fight against my fishing line? Or are you the type to simply get snatched up?" Frank said aloud mysteriously. "SWEET A TROUT!"
Edit: I'll make more parts I'm driving right now | |
[WP] Every kingdom's princess must select someone to serve as her personal knight for the rest of their lives. You, a regular soldier in the army, have been hand-picked by the princess of the dragon kingdom, the most hated in all the land. | The highland wastes roared with thunder. Or was it her battle cry? All Avil saw was his own passion, his anger, that sense of determined finality. Before him flew the Draconic general, magically enhanced to be a fearsome, bestial Great Dragon, the very same that fell his mother, whose soul burned within his blade, screaming for vengeance. Maybe it was selfish of Avil to leave behind his comrades-in-arms. But he didn't fight for his country, or for any of his allies within. He fought for his mother, and only for his mother, so when he saw the opportunity to challenge the general, albeit alone, he took it.
Spurring his feet forward, Avil abandoned caution, putting his faith in the magics his sword held, and the spirit of war forged into it. Avil and his mother attacked together, as one, every ounce of hatred and passion burning its way into the flying beast's body.
The Draconic general's roar of pain, eerily like a laugh of ridicule, was the last thing Avil remembered of that battle, before the world went cold and grey.
Avil's dream of something vaguely resembling mischief was interrupted. Where was he? The decor was lavish. Walls of marble adorned with jade and ruby, soft velvet carpets, and indoor plumbing facilities sporting ample quantities of clear, sparkly azure water. One look out the window revealed he was perched upon a mountain, with a bright blue sky above and a verdant green forest below, the likes of which Avil never saw at his home nation. Avil looked at himself. He was remarkably clean, and robed in red-on-white silk. Given the context of his memories, the only reason he should be somewhere so unfamiliar, is if he were in an enemy prison, or in Heaven. Granted the beauty around him, the truth was obvious.
Avil was dead. The battle must have defeated him. He could only hope that he took the general down with him. And so he sat, staring into the sky, for who knows how long, before a knock came at the door to his room, and a man walked in.
"Ah, you're awake. Good, good. Well, it's nearly 10 in the morning. Are you ready for your audience with Lady Parili?" The man stood tall, wearing a suit of bright royal blue. He seemed to be a butler of some kind. Though more eye-catching than his vestment were the formally rigid protrusions behind him. The man had a tail, and wings. They were covered in smooth, reflective onyx scales. In fact, come to look at him, the man appeared human, but many parts of his skin seemed to be replaced with onyx scales. He was a dragon, and a remarkably elegant one at that. His tail swayed. "Sir? Are you well?" he called.
"Ah, yes," replied Avil as he got to his feet. "My apologies, what was it?"
"You have an audience with Lady Parili. If you're ready, I'll take you to her now."
"I... suppose so, but who is that?" The Dragon beckoned Avil into the hallway and they talked while walking past garish hallways.
"Lady Parili is our princess. She's the one that brought you here, and arguably the only reason you're still alive."
"Wait, I'm... alive?"
"Well, as alive as an Undead like yourself can be. I'm not much learned on the lives of the Undead, but from what I've heard, you're never exactly alive, but have 'stages' of undeath, progressing every time you die. Am I wrong?"
"Er, yes, that's right. We're born dead, but our life continues until we're sent off to the afterdeath as a ghost."
"I see. You took a lot of damage in battle. It took some of our best scholars to come up with a cure that works for your kind, and some of our best healers to make it work so well. How do you feel?"
"I don't think I've felt this good since my vampire days!" Avil eagerly hopped up the flight of stairs leading into an even more fantastical set of halls. "So, I take it this is the royal palace of the Dragons' Kingdom? Why did you save me?"
"Hah," the butler laughed dryly. "Don't ask me. It was an order from Lady Parili. I have no idea why she does what she does. But then, my job is not to ask why, my job is to obey." They came up on a bright scarlet door adorned with abstract golden designs. "Well, we're here. Follow my lead, and mind your tongue, you stand before royalty." Without giving Avil time to respond, the butler knocked and breezed into the room.
"Ah, there you are Sammy!" came a feminine voice, simultaneously harsh, biting, elegant, and soft. In the magnificent bedroom stood a girl in a red nightgown, shining a smile equal parts delightful and terrifying. Her skin was much the same as the butler, in where her scales were and weren't, but the scales themselves gleamed a deep sapphire. Fluffy blue hair bounced on her head, and her tail made wide, fast swishes. Yep, she looked like a princess. "Sammy Sammy, where are those scones I asked for?"
The butler scoffed. "I put them at your table an hour ago." Sure enough, on a small round table near the bed, was a plate of scones.
The girl's chuckle pierced the air. "Heh, well why didn't you tell me?"
"I did, twice." The princess sat down and began feasting. "Er, milady, the Undead soldier is here, as you requested."
"Mmmph!" she muffled through bread. She threw her arm in an energetic beckoning motion, and Avil walked over cautiously.
"Well if that's all, I'll be going now," the butler called, before making his escape.
"Are you, er, Miss Parili?" At her motion, Avil took a seat, and she handed him a scone.
"Yes yes," Parili laughed. "And you're that silly soldier who abandoned your army and charged straight at me on the battlefield!" What? Wait, that Great Dragon was... the princess? So, not only was he captured by the enemy military, but he attacked royalty with everything he had. Royalty that sat before him. Fear chilled Avil's bones, and he could hardly bear to take a bite of the pastry in his hand. Parili simply continued to laugh at Avil's expression, pouring metaphorical salt in his stitches. "What's up with you, man?" she called, grinning as happily as always. "What's your beef? You gave me some nasty cuts back there!" She showed off her arm, covered in perfect scales. Not even a scar to be seen.
"You... look fine," came Avil's scarce voice.
"Well yeah, hehe, we got some great healers after all." Wait, then what was the point of showing him her wounds if they don't exist? "You haven't answered me, though!"
Avil took a bite of his scone, trying to mentally piece together his statement. He wasn't sure what this happy dragon would do to him if he got on her bad side. "...My name is Avil. When my mother was a zombie, she was a great commander in the war between our kingdoms. She was killed in battle by a general in the Draconic military. Since then, I've served in her footsteps, trying to do her justice. When I saw you, she told me you were the same Dragon that killed her. That was the moment all my years of training and battle led up to, I couldn't let that chance slip by."
"Wait, your mother, is she that ghost in your sword?" Avil nodded, earning him another chuckle. "Yeah yeah, I remember her! She took out half our fleet once! Heh, how charming, mother and son come to challenge my claws together!" Parili roared happily. It sounded silly coming from her human form, but still powerful in its own right.
"What are you going to do with me?" Again came Parili's laughter. It was if she was ridiculing Avil with every breath.
"You're cute, Avil. But more importantly, you amuse me! From the moment I saw you charge at me, I thought 'wow what a funny zombie!' And then we fought and you were surprisingly hard to take down! You drew a lot of my blood, hehe! It was so fun! I couldn't stop laughing, you looked so cute waving your little magic ghosty sword at me! I just *had* to take you home with me." The more Avil listened, the worse he felt, and somehow, the better he felt. He almost wanted to laugh with her. "So, I've been in need of a new knight, and I thought if you lived up to my expectations, I'd take you!"
Hm. That's not exactly comforting, becoming the knight to a Draconic princess. Especially the one he's been trying to kill for the past several decades. "What, uh, happened to your last knight, if I may ask?"
"Ah," Parili spoke through giggles. "She stopped being fun, so, ehehe, I threw her away!" Wait. Did that mean what Avil thought it meant? "Yeah, haha, I roasted her good!" Oh no. "Ah, it's unfortunate. She left my service just as hilarious as she arrived! Heheh, I can just hear her cries and her pleas and her screams as if it were yesterday!" Nope. Just when Avil thought he might be able to look past this girl's laughter and get along, she says something like that. "Aww what's wrong Avil? You've got the cutest, funniest look on your face right now!" If all Dragons are like this, no wonder everyone's at war with them.
"So uh. Exactly how many knights have you had?"
"Mm, I've lost count. But y'know, we Dragons, we live a long time, about as long as you Undead, yeah? So it must've been a lot!" That's not comforting. If her knights normally have a long lifespan, then that means she hasn't given them much time at all.
"So I don't have to guess what happens to me if I fail these 'expectations' of yours, huh?"
"Mmmhmhm, I dunno, maybe I'll make you guess anyway! Go on, give it a shot!"
"Er, you'll send me back to my country unharmed?" Parili let out a harsh fit of laughter.
"Yes, keep saying stuff like that, and you'll never have to find out!" Ugh. Not a good sign. "Come on, Avy. You know you couldn't return even if you wanted." Avy? Wait, what? "I heard that because of that stunt you pulled, a large portion of the Undead Army tried running in to help you out and save you. They were undermanned as is, and thanks to that rescue mission, the attack force got even weaker. They suffered a lot of casualties that day. Oh, I wish I could've seen it. Bottom line is, even if you came back, I don't think the country would forgive you." | Today was the day, it was my first day as a soldier. I was beyond nervous, Captain Salmer requested me first thing in the morning for a combat demonstration. I was known in his patrol of the city as a fighter. Everyone thought they could take on the biggest one around. And I was that.
Two years ago I could look the captain's horse in the eye. Now, I could see over it's head, and I could pick Thrasher up.
It took the armorer a full month to forge armor specifically for me. He mentioned that he used over double the material that he would normally use.
I had never received any formal weapon training. I was an untrained brawler with a gift for combat. My family had been known in the Sparrow country as great combatants for generations.
Unfortunately my father had died in a skirmish when I was but a child. Mother had never remarried. Mother was an amazing medic. But she was gone alot.
All my life I had been the one protecting my family. I beleive the only reason I exist is to protect people. That is why I am here, waiting my turn for my demonstration. To protect people.
The crowd outside suddenly quiets down in a loud gasp. Someone was just killed in a demonstration. While not entirely rare, it doesn't happen often in the demonstrations.
"I think we came I'm the wrong door, highness." I hear a gruff voice come from the entrance around the corner. I stand up and begin to move towards the door, this area is off limits to non-soldiers.
I'm stopped dead in my tracks as I hear the most melodic voice I've ever heard. "Captain, I can enter wherever I want. You think they could stop us?"
"Highness, tensions are already high. We are guests in their land, we should respect their rules." The gruff voice responds.
I turn the corner and am paralyzed. Holding open the door is an older man, maybe 40 or 50th year, scars on his cheeks, gray flecked through his black hair.
In the door is the most stunningly beautiful woman I have ever seen. Her glossy raven hair braided down to her lower black. She has a small metal ring on her right eyebrow, One in the left side of her nose, and two more in her lower lip on either side, her plump pink lips almost sparkling in the torchlight. Her dark brown eyes, soft, yet intense, meet mine and she smiles.
"And who are you large man?" She says almost sweetly, the Man behind her has his hand on his sword hilt. You can tell though, that not even this veteran has seen many people my size before, if any.
"I am recruit Samwell Heart, Highness." I say as I bow. "I must apologize, but this area is for participants of the demonstrations only."
The corners of her mouth turn up in a sly smile. "Well, recruit Heart, I apologize for my intrusion. I shall take my leave." The man holding the door gestures her through.
"By the way, have you demonstrated yet, young knight?" She asks.
"I am up next, highness. And I am not a knight yet. It is my first day actually."
She continues down the hallway as the door closes behind the Man. I hear the crowd start cheering again and I'm startled. Shoving my helmet on, I jog towards the entrance to the arena and await my name.
"HEART AND CALDWELL! TO THE ARENA!" The crowd erupts in cheers. I'm walking slowly, this armor is ridiculously heavy. You hear the crowd get louder when he steps out of his end. I smile.
Silence falls over the crowd as soon as I take my first step out of the tunnel. There are three weapon racks sitting on either side of the tunnel, with all manner of weapon on them. Dulled, for what is supposed to be friendly sparring.
I pick up a sword, nearly as tall as my chest, and the largest one there, blade as wide as my hand. I've always loved swords. Caldwell, on the other side has two longswords in his hands, hefting them, spinning them.
I begin to walk forward, he follows suit and we meet in the middle. I hold my fist out in a sign of friendship. He puts his fist against mine and the bell rings.
He instantly sprung back, trying to gain distance. Unfortunately, it's hard to gain distance from someone my size. I'm on him in two steps, swing the sword in my right hand towards his stomach.
He barely manages to get his swords in front of it and block some of the hit. The force still knocks him back and breaks his guard as he tries to roll right with it.
He comes back up from his roll and I'm there, shooting a kick forward. He stands up and my foot catches him directly in the chest. Completely caving in his plate mail and sending him flying. The bell rings.
I suddenly come too, hearing the crowd cheer louder than I've ever heard. I won. I walk towards the Box where all the nobles sit. I take my helmet off and bow.
That's when I notice it, she's sitting up there with a huge smile on her face. I start getting nervous. Captain Salmer is talking with His and Her Majesty. "Rise, soldier Heart." The captain says. "You did well"
Suddenly the woman from earlier screams and jumps up. "Captain Scere, I've found him." I'm confused. Until I look at everyone else."
Everyone looks as if I just died. And that's when I notice. Her dress is covered in small gold thread dragons.
She jumps out of the box and lands a little too lightly on the ground in front of me.
"I am Princess Flare of the Dragon Kingdom. I am going to make you my personal knight." She smiles at me. And extends her hand.
I look up at my people in the box, none of them are looking at me. I've only ever heard rumors of the Dragon Kingdom. But then again, no one who's told me anything has ever been there.
"As you command, your Highness." I bow to her and hurriedly take my gauntlet off and shake her hand. "I look forward to the years to come."
I may add to this one if it's well received. I miss writing and am out of practice. Any pointers are welcome. | |
[WP] Every kingdom's princess must select someone to serve as her personal knight for the rest of their lives. You, a regular soldier in the army, have been hand-picked by the princess of the dragon kingdom, the most hated in all the land. | He stood in the crowd of soldiers in silence. They were all lined up in the order of their assigned numbers. The monstrous girl simply threw out the number that corresponded to her birth date, 3/9/548, and decided that whoever had that number would serve as her knight until the day he died. It wasn't founded on any relationship with a knight/soldier, she never spoke to any of them. She really had no other option but to choose randomly.
And so there was Joran. He was the unlucky recipient of that number 5 years ago on the day of his enlisted for the army. 5 years later, she was 17 and it was time for her to choose her 'knight'; and now here he was. The room was buzzing with emotions. Some were excited at the idea of having escaped from being her knight, others were embarrassed for him.
He could actually feel the eyes of the people around him boring a hole through his head. Admittedly, she was hideous. Her face lacked the traditional, archetypal beauty seen in the other princesses in the lineup. She had ashen brown scales with flecks of emerald green and her mouth protruded from her face rather sharply - almost like a snout. Her teeth were all crooked and when she smiled her lips drew over them like a snarl. It took him a moment to realize that she was actually smiling. All the other princesses looked uncomfortable standing near her.
He walked slowly to the front and the soldiers behind him started to snicker and cough uncomfortably. He heard whispers of pity and embarrassment coming from them at just bearing witness to him being selected to serve the horrid dragon princess. His face burned in shame as he neared her.
When he stood before her and before the 30,000 or so soldiers he knelt so as to avoid looking at her terrible face. He tried to comfort himself but he really felt hopeless. He got stuck with the worst of the princesses. He told himself that as soon as he got the chance he would make a run for it. After all, it was better to live in exile that to be stuck with the foulest of princesses across the several kingdoms.
He felt a tap on his shoulder and looked up. His face was very near hers.
"Oh, he- hey. I'm sorry. I just need you too look at me as I recite the Incantation of Sealing." She was being very quiet. The princesses around them had moved sideways and were watching closely. She was the first to choose a knight, so they were curious to see what it was like. He was closer to her scales than he felt comfortable, and he could see now that some of her teeth were slightly more pointed than it was normal. He thought of a myriad of ways of getting out of this. Escape, self injury, *treachery*. He knew he could not do it in front of the other soldiers - his brothers and sisters - it had to wait. He even thought of death, but he acquiesced.
"Carry on, m'lady." He gazed hard at her face. Eye contact was crucial in this process. They needed to see each others' eyes so they Gods knew who was being bound to whom. The princess started to sing.
Her voice was beautiful beyond measure, but that was no surprise. Dragons themselves had powerful voices that had the ability to entrance. Her voice had nowhere near enough power, but it was still pleasant to the ears. It was another aspect of her draconic deception. She lifted her staff, with the emblem of her lineage and started to move it in particular patterns around his head. Through this process, the knight becomes honor-bound to the princess. He felt his world closing around him.
Suddenly, she dropped the heavy metal staff. It landed on his shoulder, hard, and fell to the floor. It clattered as it bounced a few times. Her eyes widened and she grabbed him saying, "Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry- I- I didn't meant to drop it. Oh geez... Is it damaged? Are *you* damaged- er, are you okay?" She was flustered, which made her seem more human. The soldier eased her.
"I'm fine. It's just a scrape." He rubbed his shoulder. He was wearing the tunic of a soldier about to complete his entrance into the army, so his shoulders were exposed. The staff had scales on it that were sharp. He was bleeding a bit, but he knew he'd be fine. He felt her touch again and looked up to see that they were very near to each other.
Her eyes were a mere inches away from his face. He realized that they looked entirely human - he had seen the eyes of full-blooded dragons enough to know the difference. They seemed, at a distance, to be depthless and black but up close he realized that they were the darkest shade of brown, like a rich chocolate. Her eyelashes were full and the whites of her eyes were clear. It was at this distance that he started to wonder how anyone could think she was so horrible.
He pulled away after a few stunned moments and apologized for his forthrightness. She smiled at the awkward encounter they shared and he found her face less jarring as he grew more familiar with it. Her teeth were crooked but they added a certain charm to her face. He thought, too, about how warm she had been in the uncomfortable two minutes of interaction they had had since he had been chosen. He smiled back, suddenly feeling far better about his prospects as her knight. | "Are you sure it's me?"
"Rodger Haywolf, I repeat, you are being summoned by the Dragon Princess to be her personal knight and loyal guard. You will offer you strength, until your last, only to the Dragon princess from here until the second burning."
It's a rare honor for a common soldier to be promoted knight, even more, to be a Princess' knight. Only the bravest and strongest are chosen for this role. A Princess Knight is not only in charge of the princess' perpetual security- but also he will be assigned as her representative warrior in the Seven Kingdom's yearly tournament.
Instead of the kingdoms fighting each other, they just select a warrior to represent the kingdom, there will only be 1 warrior left at the end of the tournament, the winning kingdom will have command over the other kingdoms until the next tournament.
Any soldier/knight would gladly offer their life for the princess, fight to the death in the tournament. But for the Dragon kingdom, this is a death sentence.
The Dragon Kingdom hasn't won for the last ten tournaments- the knight that Rodger is replacing died first in the last tournament. Rumors were, the Dragon princess didn't even wince at his death. Everyone hated her. Others even say the Dragon Princess will get furious suddenly and demand your life at her whim.
Rodger was calm on the carriage. Rodger thought he was the logical choice since no one would care if he dies. Orphaned at a young age, he didn't knew of family or relationships. There was no fear of loss. Nobody would even shed tear at his absence. He grew up taking different weird jobs. Most would take toll on his young body, but the labor made him stronger. Strong enough for him to be enlisted as a soldier.
Then he remembered his childhood friend, Meg. Rodger would remember playing with her the whole day almost everyday in the forest behind the palace. Rodger didn't get to see her after he got enlisted in the Cavalry. It's the memory of Meg that helped him get through all the harsh trainings. He silently wished he could know how Meg is doing. Atleast he could die happily thinking she's happily married with a beautiful family.
Rodger's deep thoughts were interrupted when the commander asked him to go down and go straight to one of the upper towers.
The Dragon Princess' Tower.
Rodger never had dreams or goals, he only wished for a simple life. A small family perhaps, a small farm- a happy life with M-
"Stay here, the next voice you'll hear is the Dragon Princess'. Treat her with respect and honor, your life is hanging on her words." the tower maiden warned.
Rodger was in the process of letting go of all the dreams he has left. The peaceful family- the little toddlers. He knows that by being the princess' knight- he will be hers for all his life. Her's alone.
Rodger stood like a soldier. Not flinching, always prepared for attacks. Soon enough he hears a familiar voice-
"Rodger Haywolf"
"Yes, your majesty" Rodger knew the owner of the voice. He didn't forget it not even once. Not when the voice shouted "jump" or when it teased him "you're such a fool Rodger"- it's the same voice.
Rodger slowly lifted his gaze to the direction of the voice
"I am the one who summoned you- Princess Margaret of the Dragon Kingdom. You will be my own Knight from now until the Second Burning. From now on, you will be called Sir Rodger of the Dragons, and you will call me-
Meg."
End of Part 1 | |
[WP] Every kingdom's princess must select someone to serve as her personal knight for the rest of their lives. You, a regular soldier in the army, have been hand-picked by the princess of the dragon kingdom, the most hated in all the land. | “I cannot be the one.” Halvehan said with a defensive tone and his hand gripped the pommel of the claymore at his hip. The royals guards paid him no mind and continued marching him through the procession towards the dais where the Dragon Princess stood. She watched his approach with an air of dignity about her posture. Her black garbs were silky and long and the wind gently tugged them into the air. The Mother Queen seated in the throne behind her watched him with a smirk about her lips and her fingers drummed on the armrest with the military lock pace. It all served to only compound the confusion the day had begun with.
When they awoke that morning there was no talk of a parade or the inauguration of a new royal champion, nor was there any indication that her Majesty and Heir were even present in the military camp. By mid day however a rumor spread of Red Guard spotted near the Generals Keep. It was then that Halvehan sought Sevilin Hemrin, his squad commander, who was learned in royal affairs, to discuss the possibility of war. Often enough, as both companions had learned over the years, war came without notice in the divided kingdom, and always from the mouths of royalty. Only when Halvehan came to Sevilin’s quarters, Sevilin was gone. Gone from the quarters. Gone from the camp.
Without his friend to confide in he was forced to move on to the daily tasks relegated to him. Today he was teaching redskins --new recruits, called such for how easily they flushed from labor-- how to manage a spear wielder with their standard issue claymore. It was as they were going through the third drill that he really felt Sevilins absence.
“When you fight a man with a spear you have to watch three things. First is the hands of the wielder. The hands control the spear, if they do not move, the spear will not strike you. Do not transfix on the blade or you’ll meet it with your eye. The second is the feet of the wielder. Spears have a set range from which their trust is deadly. Inside and outside of that range they cannot harm you. Watch the wielder’s feet to see when he makes distance or closes it. Third is the eyes of the wielder. The point of a spear requires guidance to land an attack. If you can manage these three parts of the wielder, you can conquer him.”
Normally after this point he would take up a training spear and spar against Sevilin claymore as a demonstration for the recruits. Halvehan wasn’t bad with a spear, this he knew. He’d taken them up before in the chaos of battle and made good with their killing point. He could even hold his own alongside veterans from the halberd regiment from time to time and served as a good example of the type of warrior the redskins were likely to come across in a battlefield. But it wasn’t his skill with the spear he wanted them to admire.
It was Sevilin’s claymore that they needed to see. Despite having two less fingers on the left hand, Sevilin’s black claymore was legendary. Even on his worst day Sevilin would put Halvehan to the ground quicker than a bull could throw a child. It was even said Sir Armand, the kingdom’s old sword master had praised Sevilin’s skills at one point. All the men under Sevilin knew this already. It was the regiment command that seemed not to acknowledge Sevilin’s skill as he had been squad captain for well over a decade now.
Instead he sparred with Yarrow, one of the squads forward scouts. Yarrow was merely adequate with a claymore. Halvehan killed him three times before embarrassment for the lad caused him to mistep a thrust. The boy parried and charged in and struck a glancing blow off his shoulder. There were at least ten different ways Sevilin would have had him down already.
They bowed, and he spoke again to the recruits, “Watch the wielder, not the weapon. Parry the blow and then drive in for the kill. Pair up now, half of you with claymore, the rest with spear. If you’re struck you will sup in the kennels with the rest of the dogs tonight.”
It was a harsh lesson but served to motivate them well. They made practice war for a time but it was cut short by the calling of banners. Halvehan heard it first, the legato wardrum beat that began to fill the valley.
Soon all heads turned to the keep at the mound and saw the banners rise one by one. Each banner was a regiment of the Dragon Army. Every banner was up and flanking both ends were larger crimson standards bearing three black claws within golden bandings. Halvehan drew a sharp breath at the sight of the royal standards. The black claws within gold only flew in the presence of royalty and on this day there was not one standard, but two.
In his gut Halvehan felt the powerful consternation that came from memories of war. He found the prospects of killing once more a troubling one. All the good war had ever done for the kingdom was to make them enemies among the other empires and put good friends in the ground.
“Yarrow. Check the keep for Sevilin and then go to the grounds to meet us for formation.” He ordered the redskins back to their encampment and took charge of the squad. Without Sevilin there it was up to him to march their squad to the regiment commander and serve as squad leader himself. He donned his black scale armor and dragon hide pauldrons before tying the black squad leader sash around his waist. He affixed the claymore through the sash and finally pulled on his armored mask.
The formation arrived at the keep where a dais had been constructed. Atop the dais sat two thrones, one large and decorated in red and gold and angular wooden bevels along the base and back that was nearly seven feet high. The Queen had made it a trophy of hers from a war long past. The second was smaller and black and gold with twisted ornaments along the rests and legs and in it sat the Dragon Princess. Halvehan shifted his weight at the sight of the princess. She was young and fair, and not likely to be presiding over a war declaration, yet her presence gave him an unease.
Yarrow came charging into the formation just before the war drums sounded again. Silenced by the order to take formation he only gave Halvehan a curt head shake to signal his failure. From the dais the Princess, not the Queen, stood and approached the army. The war drums silenced again and every man stood still and silent and waited for her words.
When they came, they were not soft or elegant, but bold and commanding and they carried far into the ranks, “To the grand army of the Dragon Kingdom. I beseech your forgiveness for my sudden appearance this day. My Queen Mother and I have made haste to travel here, for I insisted upon it at once as it’s the eve of my seventeenth birthday.”
Halvehan felt a sudden surge and comprehended Sevilin’s absence. At seventeen a princess is granted a royal knight to act as her personal guard. Sevilin must have been selected! He would be a fine choice as well. He was cunning and strong and would serve the royal family well.
“One among you has been selected to act as my personal guard. Among the three armies I am told by my mother there is no more fitting a man than he, for he has fought and survived countless battles for the glory of the kingdom. He has raised thousands of men under the banner of the Dragon. He has stood among you for more than a decade and my mother wishes for the rest of the kingdom to see him and our glory,” and she raised her voice with the last words like a battlecry. No man dared speak but in their hearts they let out war cries with full and proud bluster.
Halvehan imagined Sevilin standing tall and pleasing in red scale armor with an ornate claymore at his hip. He could see his rugged chiseled jaw drawing a soft smile issuing him a proud salute and in imagining this he almost didn’t notice the princess pointing directly at his squad.
Not just at his squad, directly at him.
“Halvehan Foust. You are my to be my Royal Dragon Knight.”
If not for the mask the princess would have witnessed his face lose all its parlor instantly. Before he could say another word the path to the dais was cleared by four royal guards in red dragon scale armor. They flanked him at all sides and guided him to the princess. Without a word the claymore was removed from his sash.
When the precession arrived the royal guards parted and left Halvehan standing alone before the dais. He went to a knee with almost no effort; the armor hadn’t felt so heavy since the first time he wore it 15 years before.
“Remove your helmet and mask Sir Foust.”
He did.
“Raise your head Sir Foust.”
He did.
“Do you understand the honor I’ve granted to you.”
“Yes,” he said and hoped the shaking couldn’t be heard in his voice.
“Do you accept this honor?” she asked and smiled. There was only one correct answer of course.
“Yes.”
“Raise your right hand and look to the dirt.”
Halvehan did as he was told. Cold slender fingers touched the palm of his hand and a cool cylinder slipped over his third finger. The Princess’s fingers trailed away and then she spoke again. “You may look now.”
He did. On his finger was a golden ring with a dragon glass gemstone set within. Three dark talons were carved into the stone and when he looked deep inside it looked as if a small flame was trapped within.
“We’ll have your royal armor waiting when we return, for now this will do,” the Princess said and a royal knight brought out a red sash and crossed it around his waist, over the black squad leader sash. A claymore was slipped through the new red belt and he felt the weight of it immediately. It was nearly two pounds heavier than his own when he examined the handle he found it was black from the pommel all the way to the quillons.
His mouth went dry and he gulped at the sight of Sevilin ’s claymore at his hip.
1/2
| The nations of Odifell exist as four separate nations that mostly co-existed in peace. The nations themselves were named after the beings that helped raise the humans into the force that they are. The Sphinx Kingdom of the south is known for its intelligence and wisdom, the denizens of the realm are known for their ingenuity and being the first nation to create schools. The Unicorns Council of the north is known for their loyalty and oaths the fair people are known for their kindness and are the first to open a public hospital. The Kraken Republic to the East are wanders their sailors are known to be exceptionally brave in their exploration and are rumored to be the only nation to make contact with new lands. The Dragon Kingdom of the west is known for being the origin of the term draconian, their citizens are well taught in magic and opened the first mage guild. This is not a celebrated fact as the first mages rose to power and set off to conquer the other kingdoms, and might have done so, had the nameless hero given her life in sacrifice to the cause. Magic while not uncommon in the other realms is still distrusted and in some smaller towns speculated to twist the minds of men.
The war had been over for sometime now and an uneasy peace made with the other nations creating strong standing armies. The Dragon Kingdom blamed the mage guild for making the king a puppet in the war by enchanting him however this proved to convenient to be true, and the king was slain along with the queen. The kingdom fell to the rule of a child with the help of advisors from the other realms to help with the day to day ruling and teaching of the princess. Now she turns fifteen and the advisors are losing more power, as she gains more of an awareness around her duties. She, like every other before her and all current ruling factions, may create a guard to protect advise and otherwise assist with her life for the rest of her life. It is the type of request where saying no is simply not an option. Not that many would say no, but the Dragon Kingdom even before the war had a bad reputation of being predatory. It was more than a few times the fought with a single kingdom over which nation does a city belong to and which nation collects taxes, or recruits soldiers from that land. While it would come with its perks it was not typically an ideal assignment there was no promotion and no one had ever retired from it. If you were chosen by a nation that nation was now your home, meaning you lost all land holdings and most connections to the land you had known. It was with regret that I held the note requesting my services forth with to the Kingdom of Dragons under the request of the Queen herself Avalon Igneous Draconan Fourth of her name. I Craig of house Dunsforth seventh born and of no great merit.
I was lost, honestly barely a knight. I had received training for it but was still a squire, one of many under my eldest brother Rothmer 'The Strong' of house Dunsforth Heir to Hollow Rock Keep and town by the same name. The herald stood there amused as he finished reading and asked if I would accept the assignment eyeing my furious brother wo happened to be the first person told about this as I had been mistaken for a proper knight.
"I think you have the wrong person." I said, as I had wanted to say the whole time, but waited for him to finish.
" Craig of house Dunsforth" he read again
"yes"
"Seventh born"
"yes"
"No, renown?"
"No.."
"Then its you thank heaven's you are confused to, I am right with you." He laughed His smile was broad but he looked tired and of need of rest. "Well you don't have to answer now just before we leave tomorrow. I assume I can stay at the 'House Dunsforth' for a night"
"Of course we should ride ahead and tell the keep to make ready I am sure you are tired I will accompany you to the keep myself. I have questions" Rothmer said showing that he was still in control of the situation. I on the other hand still having issues picking my jaw of the floor. "Go tell father the news Craig, He will be most surprised."
I stared as the galloped away Roth in his green and silver the color of the Unicorn council, and the messenger whose name I forgot or didn't know on his red, yellow, and black. As soon as they were far enough away I could hear Roth start to grill him for details but they were to far away to hear.
The guard tower was barely a tower hosting two floors an being called a tower only because it was the standard name for all guard head quarters in the land inside was stored weapons and armor not in use as long as a resting area for the guards themselves. My father liked the tower because his friend worked there, and it was centrally located near the market and taverns so it was always lively. Upon entering I could hear my father argue with the chief guard about which tavern made the best bread, It was a secret known only to few that both taverns got their bread from a baker in the market, who made the two breads custom to how the tavern owners liked it. Not wanting to interrupt I stood there till noticed.
"Aren't you with Roth today" My father Lord of the Keep asked his voice was deep and heavy with his gut, it was good to be a lord.
The Chief of the guard was a quick contrast to my father a tall and tin man that hid his strong frame, I had seen him once wrestle to men that were fighting each other to the ground at the same time. His voice was higher pitch but carried far "Ya I saw them earlier in the yard training, Roth seemed to be giving you no quarter today." It was true my brother's fighting lesson today was more brutal today and I wondered who it was really for.
"I have received a summon" I said "Roth took the messenger to the keep."
"What did you do to get in trouble?" my father laughed. Despite the joke I can see I had their attention, the had both leaned forward at the same time. Even if I was lying to them the wanted to see where it was going.
"I Wa... A messenger from the Dragon Kingdom has come with a formal request for me to join their court." I did not wait long until I heard their laughs. "To be the Protector Knight to the Queen Avalon Igneous Draconan Fourth of her name"
The laughing stopped. My father looked me up and down.
"Why?"
"I don't now"
He hesitated then stood up looking at the chief guard. "Sorry Solomon I have to look in to this I will let you know if he was lying tomorrow" He gathered himself and walked to his horse to leave. Solomon for his part stayed seated but smiled hiding how much he wanted to see the results of this news.
"Call for me if you have a feast" Solomon said "I know Helen would love to visit the keep again.
With a grunt we ventured off to the keep all the way my father asking me questions I couldn't answer. Why you? Who have you been talking to? What did the messenger look like? did you see the seal of the Dragon Kingdom?
| |
[WP] The Roman Empire never collapsed. As a result humanity already stepped foot on the moon in 1401 | The Moon. Land that has never been claimed by any nations of men. Like the Americas, it was always too far away and out of our reach. But mere hours ago, what was once thought impossible by our ancestors has been achieved by us. At precisely 1400 GMT +1, our emperor Julius Octavius landed on the Moon after enduring a 3-day flight. He opened the doors of his *Luna 11* spacecraft, holding a flag of the Roman Empire. He took a step onto the surface of the Moon, took ten steps forward, then planted the Roman flag on the Moon's surface, officially designating it as a part of our empire. Julius Octavius then spoke the words of his namesake, Julius Caesar.
*"Veni, Vidi, Vici."*
-------------------
*Thanks for reading, feedback is very welcome and appreciated. I am trying to get better at writing.* | "This is one small step for man, one giant leap for the empire"
said the TV through the crackle of its speakers. Anotnia Bruttii watched in complete awe, as her husband, Abdu Bruttii became the first man to step foot on the moon.
Sure, the video quality was so awful that she could barely even see him, a gray blob floating up and down in the darkness, but it was *her* gray blob, and she couldn't be prouder of him. The local Oracle had always told her that her family was destined to rise back to glory someday, but she never imagined it would be like this. For centuries, the Julii and the Scipii had mocked her family for their failures in subjugating the Territories of Southern America, and their declining popularity in the Senate, but that would continue no more. What were a few jungles in comparison to a celestial body?
Abdu stared across the horizon, taking a moment to absorb it all in. He held the flag of his empire in one hand, and his sword in the other. He had come seeking glory, a way to make both of his families proud, but ... this couldn't be all it was, could it? Just a rock floating in the sky with no warriors waiting upon it?
Yes the discovery was nice and all, but he had come from generations of proud warriors. His grandfather had fought in the Second Egyptian Civil War, and his father before him had fought in the rebellions of Tunisia and Morocco. They both returned from their tours with the rank of Imperial Legate, the greatest honors his lineage had ever been bestowed by the empire.
During Abdu's service, he hoped that he would've achieved the same, but it was never to be. He was never the hero of any major battle, the inspiring figure that rallied his fellow legionnaires to greatness, and returned to Rome to find that he had only become a Tribunus Laticlavius. His only accomplishment worthy of praise according to his family was getting married to Antonia, securing their family legacy a seat in the future of the empire as one of the major families. Needless to say, Abdu always made sure to tell Antonia that they were never to speak of war at the dinner table during holiday dinner.
Abdu made a small sigh as his fellow evocatii climbed out of the luna module and as he looked out into the empty lands before him, and the glory that would never be gained, he slowly said.
"This is one small step for man, one giant leap for the empire." | |
[WP] You are an American astronaut on the International Space Station when a second cold war breaks out. Tensions between the U.S. and Russia are higher than they've every been, and the Russian Cosmonauts are beginning to whisper and give you strange looks... | They've been watching me all day, and them bastards don't even think I notice. Already gotten the word back from Washington, Russians have started moving their nuclear submarines into the Arctic Circle. They know there's gonna be land soon, and when there is they're gonna make it Red Land everywhere. Red soldiers chargin' over to take over the damn world, makes me sick.
I've been sitting with Japanese in their module, at least they're trustworthy. Never know about them damn Europeans. Last few years they've been warrin' and assassinatin' one another, not even competent enough to team up or wipe one another out, and now I was supposed to trust 'em with my life?
The Japanese module is actually one of the safest places to be. We still have a great relationship, and they even let me use the bed sometimes. Only downside is that I don't have the codes to lock the hatch. They haven't given that to me yet, and I'm not expectin to get it anytime soon with how silent most of the crew is.
The hatch to the module opened and Hideki saw me floating in the corner of the room my pen ready for any close quarter fights. It was the best I could find given the short notice.
"Daijōbudesuka?" He said it while holding his hands out real far away from another, empty-handed. Just like I was hopin'. He'd been staying with me for the past few days. Well, I've been staying with him I guess, either way, he's been helping me out. We've been friends ever since I was stationed out in Okinawa, and him gettin' on here with me was the best damn blessin' a man could ask for.
"Yoi, chottoshita henshū-teki" I said back, he let out a little giggle.
"Paranoid, not editorial" I corrected.
"Still just as rusty as ever, huh Watts?" He put his hand on my shoulder and floated next to me.
"Everythings alright with the rest of my crew right? Nothings gone down yet?"
"No, everyone is still split off into their own modules, though I did see Karen, Alexei, and Vitaly talking to each other in the kitchen just a few minutes ago."
I ran my hands through my hair, letting out a huff as I tried my damndest to not tear any tufts out. I always knew Alexei and Vitaly were two Vodka sippin' sickle slingin' sons of bitches, but Karen?
"She... you don't think she could be a backstabber could she?" I had known Karen for ... Well only a few months, but she was smart! She was a good, America lovin', freedom protectin girl who had served years in the air force, and there's no way she would betray her country. Hell, she didn't even have any red in her 'side from the Irish part.
Hideki shrugged and pulled out a tube paste from his back pocket that read "STEAK."
"Smuggled this back for you, figured you would like to eat something today, gives the stress a break from eating you"
He was giving me a big grin, his jokes were always kinda dumb. But I guess that's what always made them pretty funny.
While we were chuckling and I was unscrewing the cap, two figures emerged in the doorway. How the hell did we forget the door?
It was Alexei and Vitaly. Where was Karen? Why was Alexei reaching into his back pocket, why was Vitaly approaching both of us?
Everything was happening too fast, Hideki looked frozen. I didn't know what to do, so I kicked off of the wall, grabbing Hideki in tow. We went spinning, and while we were lined up with Vitaly, I threw my spear at him like a javelin. It slowly floated towards him and tapped his forehead.
I kicked off of the wall behind us. Chargin' with a yell that had all 4 of us hollering. I hadn't caught it, but Alexei had already kicked too, and now all four of us were heading to crash into one another. We collided, and Hideki and I were punchin and tearin as they tried to yank our hands away from 'em.
By this point, most of the other astronauts were starting to find us, 4 men scrappin as a tumbling mass. Everyone's hands were on us then, trying their best to seperate all of us. They seperated us alright, but not before I got landed a clean haymaker on that fuck Alexei's nose.
Alexei put his hand up to his bleedin' nose and he was holdin' somethin'. Some sort of metal tube. I wasn't about to take the time to figure what it was, so I started to close in to grab it, but I was already bein' held back the others.
He held the tube out to me, blood smeared all over it, but I could make out the words "IR DAY KE." I took it and swiped out the rest of the blood "BIRTHDAY CAKE." Suddenly I felt my face gettin real red.
"Just because our countries are at war, does not mean we have to be, Mister Watts." Alexei said, his hand stopping the blood coming from his nose.
I nodded my head, grabbed the floating pen, and floated back into the Japanese module, wasn't about to let them get the jump on me. | This is horrible news. I need to defuse this situation, quickly. I turned to my partners, Zack and Helen.
"We need to talk to them about this before they get the wrong idea."
The two nodded in agreement. We walked up to our 3 coworkers-possibly-turned-enemies, who were wary of our approach. I spoke first.
"Listen, my fighting days are over. I'm willing to allow this station to remain neutral territory. How about you guys?"
There was an exchange of uncertain looks, before a 4th Russian, my newfound girlfriend, Sasha, entered the room. She walked up to me and kissed my cheek, grabbing my hand as she did so.
"(I'll stand with you, darling.)"
Her act of kindness brought a smile to my face. I looked to to the other Russians for their response. They all seemed to be happy about it. One of the men, Yuri, spoke up.
"(I don't know what lies ahead, but I think we're willing to set aside our differences.)"
I turned to my partners for their opinion on the matter.
Helen spoke first.
"It's fine by me. But I don't know about Zack..."
I turned to Zack only to see him just in time to receive a knife in the midriff. In his other hand, he drew a pistol.
*Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!*
As I fell to the floor, I could only watch as Zack gunned down my partner, my would-be fiancee, and my newfound Russian comrades. One by one, all 5 of them hit the hard floor, Zack maintaining an emotionless face all the while.
He then turned to me and spoke one last time.
"Sorry, sir, but I have a mission to fulfill. Your country thanks you for your service."
With that, he aimed his gun at my head and pulled the trigger. | |
[WP] You are an American astronaut on the International Space Station when a second cold war breaks out. Tensions between the U.S. and Russia are higher than they've every been, and the Russian Cosmonauts are beginning to whisper and give you strange looks... | There had always been a special bond between us crewmembers aboard the space station, a feeling that although we all come from different cultures we are united by our love of technology and our desire to improve life for the human race.
News had been coming in daily about the increasing political tensions between NATO and Russia, and it was news that the crew didn't know how to cope with. Even though we all live and work together, we are each still bound by our obligations to our respective governments. As tensions became more heated on the ground, crews aboard the space station began to become more isolated from each other as well.
I noticed the Russian Cosmonauts talking closely amongst themselves one day, it seemed as if the most senior of ther crew was trying to convince the others to go along with him. I decided to see what the group was talking about, so I floated over to join them. As I grabbed onto one of the metal handles positioned around the cabin to stabilize myself, the senior Russian Cosmonaut got very philosophical with me, he said
"Do you ever think about how people look up to us?"
"Of course" I told him "It''s a privilege living aboard this station, nothing gives me a better feeling than knowing I'm living like my heroes did and inspiring another generation after me"
"Do you ever think we can do more than just inspire kids to go to university?" He said
"What do you mean?" I replied, I could tell he was eager to let out an idea.
"We can show the world how to live in peace, but we have to be unified in our effort. A cargo ship is scheduled to be launched next week with supplies soley for the Cosmonauts aboard the station. We think we are going to turn away the cargo."
Internal memos from NASA to the American Astronauts contained very similar news. We were instructed not to share any food or hygienic items with Cosmonauts aboard the station with us.
I looked him in his eye and told him I was with him. Everyone aboard the space station was in a unique position to be able to make a show of peace that the entire world would see, and we were proud to put the plan into action. Everyone aboard the space station lived their lives to show the world how to live for the pursuit of knowledge. We had all read the stories of the Greeks, the Romans, and countless other human conflicts throughout history. We were determined to do the right thing, and not allow ourselves to become political pawns in a new cold war.
A hunger strike in space was something that no engineer ever thought would happen when considering logistics for space station missions. It was exactly the kind of radical action that was needed to show the world how to live in harmony. | This is horrible news. I need to defuse this situation, quickly. I turned to my partners, Zack and Helen.
"We need to talk to them about this before they get the wrong idea."
The two nodded in agreement. We walked up to our 3 coworkers-possibly-turned-enemies, who were wary of our approach. I spoke first.
"Listen, my fighting days are over. I'm willing to allow this station to remain neutral territory. How about you guys?"
There was an exchange of uncertain looks, before a 4th Russian, my newfound girlfriend, Sasha, entered the room. She walked up to me and kissed my cheek, grabbing my hand as she did so.
"(I'll stand with you, darling.)"
Her act of kindness brought a smile to my face. I looked to to the other Russians for their response. They all seemed to be happy about it. One of the men, Yuri, spoke up.
"(I don't know what lies ahead, but I think we're willing to set aside our differences.)"
I turned to my partners for their opinion on the matter.
Helen spoke first.
"It's fine by me. But I don't know about Zack..."
I turned to Zack only to see him just in time to receive a knife in the midriff. In his other hand, he drew a pistol.
*Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!*
As I fell to the floor, I could only watch as Zack gunned down my partner, my would-be fiancee, and my newfound Russian comrades. One by one, all 5 of them hit the hard floor, Zack maintaining an emotionless face all the while.
He then turned to me and spoke one last time.
"Sorry, sir, but I have a mission to fulfill. Your country thanks you for your service."
With that, he aimed his gun at my head and pulled the trigger. | |
[WP]Teleportation is invented as an instant means to travel. A man, having never used the technology begins to notice something wrong. He begins to suspect they aren't being teleported, but are being killed in the process. A new "version" appearing on the other side. Each time a bit more sinister. | At first, it was only an idea. They had a group of people who tested it and after a successful year, it became available for the masses. Celebrities and people with money went ahead and after a while it was considered as the standard way of transportation and travel. Teleportation.
A friend of mine was the first in our area who bought a porter, he has his own IT company, so he had the money. More people I know followed up and after two months, there was no-one at the bus station in the morning anymore. Or in the evening. I had the whole bus for myself.
“You know, we will probably close this line as well. We can’t keep it open for just you using it. “
“Mh. I guess I have to buy a bike or something. But what about you? Are you losing your job or..?”
“No, but I will be doing sightseeing tours. You know, tourists still want to see the city they visit.”
I’ve known Mike for years. He has been the bus driver since I started working at the other side of town. For the past weeks, we started talking more as I was the only person he was transporting and I know he tried to hold onto this route for me; and his own comfort, probably. He isn’t that much of a talker and needs time to warm up with people, so a tourist guide wasn’t his first choice, I assumed. But in a world where public transport isn’t needed anymore you take any chance you get.
People also stopped getting sick. Scientists claimed that humanity has wiped out every disease or developed an immunity to pretty much everything, but they weren’t quite sure. Except for me. It was the third cold I got this year but there weren’t any doctors offices or pharmacies open anymore, so I had to work through it on my own.
It was odd. It’s been almost four months since the mass production of the porters and two weeks ago, humans were declared as ‘healthy’. We evolved so fast over the past years, I was wondering what would come next.
Later that day I was meeting up with a friend. Snacks and drinks at our favourite pub, we tried to do this at least once a month. It was still weird, seeing him without his tattoos. They disappeared after his first teleportation and he wasn’t the only one, so apparently the porters wouldn’t transfer tattoo ink for whatever reason. He wasn’t mad about it, just shrugged it off. “I still have pictures of them and hey, life’s easier with teleportation, no big deal.”
He had spent a lot for his tattoos and every single one had a meaning, so his reaction confused me, but we weren’t that close anymore, so what did I know.
“You still haven’t bought a porter? You might need one, though. I heard they are closing public transport for good.”
“I know”, I responded, “but I’d rather buy a bike. I like having some time on the way to work to prepare for the day. “
“How about sleeping longer? That still is the best preparation”, he laughed.
Something about him bothered me. Something else than his tattoos. Then I noticed.. “Haven’t you had a scar on your arm? From your accident? You had it covered up by a tattoo but since they are all gone..”
“I never had a scar.” He interrupted me harshly, rude almost. He stared into my eyes, cold and angry. I raised my eyebrows. “No need to get angry, I guess I confused that with Jon.” His facial expression changed back to normal.
“You know, you should really buy a porter.”
I sighed. “Really? I think I’m not ready for that yet. In my opinion, this is all going on too fast and...” I suddenly noticed the silence in the bar. Everyone was looking at me with the exact same cold stare Darek had used before. The moment he noticed I stopped talking to look at the other people in the bar, he quickly asked me “Why don’t you go home and look for one? If you can’t afford it I could really help you with the payments..”
I looked back at him and he also had the cold dead stare again. “ You know what? You are right. I will do so right now.” In the corner of my eye I noticed everyone turning away from me and going on with their bar activities. Darek seemed pleased.
As I got home, I immediately started my PC but instead of searching for porters, I was looking for the studies when the porters were still in testing. Nothing weird, I knew everything from the news already. Safe way of travel, quick, risk-free, can’t transfer tattoo ink. This wasn’t helpful. But after some hours of searching, I found a blog entry of someone who claimed to be a relative of one of the scientists guiding the test studies.
“One of the subjects turned violent suddenly. It says they restrained him and took a closer look at him. They noticed that a scar on his wrist had disappeared, so further investigations were done. They had DNA-samples from every subject and when they compared it to his current DNA, it wasn’t 100% compatible anymore, more like 95%. The subject had changed, probably because of the porters. After a while they found out that they weren’t the subjects from the start anymore, they had been replaced every time. The genetic sample used to log into the porter was used to create instant clones with the consciousness of the original which was the only thing transferred via the porter. What happened to the original subjects is still unknown since the cloned subjects forced the scientists to use the porter and corrupted them before they could investigate further. My sister forwarded her papers to me and I am publishing this to inform others of the risks of using these technologies.”
A comment below that claimed it as fake, a story, creepy pasta. But it has confirmed what my gut was telling me from the beginning. Something sinister is going on. | "Daddy?" The sparkling eyes belonging to my sweet Susanna appeared as the portation dust dissapated.
"Moochums!" I yelled picking her up into my arms and swinging her around as she giggled with glee.
I just had her for two days of every thirty, never rely on a federation lawyer, but I would make sure those two days would be the be-
"Aghh!" My right arm began to burn with pain making it seize. Setting Susanna down I found the cause. A large gash stretching from my wrist down to the elbow had appeared.
"Awww, Daddy did I hurt you?" Susanna asked her eyes starting to tear up.
"I..." Spotting the bloody hairpin at her feet the pieces fell into place. "I guess you did, but don't worry accidents happen to everyone." She began to cry, moistue dripping down to her chin and her face capturing a shade almost akin to that of magenta.
"I'm..I'm so sorry Daddy." She said between gasps.
Rushing to save the situation I found the perfect idea. "Don't worry it's nothing a little ice cream won't fix!"
Simmering down Susanna looked up and smiled.
In the back of my head that day I an idea was born that it may have been her plan all along, but that thought would have never come to the for front of my mind if I wasn't about to be sentenced to death for the murder of my ex-wife.
| |
[WP]Teleportation is invented as an instant means to travel. A man, having never used the technology begins to notice something wrong. He begins to suspect they aren't being teleported, but are being killed in the process. A new "version" appearing on the other side. Each time a bit more sinister. | What happens when you teleport?
They compared it to sending files. You upload yourself into the mother system. The mother system then install you in your desired location. Simple. Safe. Succinct.
What if something happens during transference?
The elders said nothing wrong can possibly happen. It all happens in an instant anyways.
But here’s what’s happening. You “upload your data to the cloud”. Your body gets disintegrated. Then your files of “you” will get installed into a new freshly assembled body that the mother creates.
One day, the unexpected happens. Something caused a lag in the mother system. Connection was disrupted. Yet all the porters arrived safe and sound. Trust in the mother was at its peak, but this is when I noticed the sinister changes among my family members.
They were just returning from business in Europa that day. Their arrival time coincided with the server lag, and they were delayed by 0.02 nanoseconds. I didn’t think much of it.
But it was back home that they developed their symptoms. If anything, I think the error interfered with their... minds.
Their symptoms mainly were negligence. They slept over their alarms. Their speech pattern changed. They start to abandon their responsibilities, things like forgetting to buy groceries, go to work, etc etc.
I have decided to put them in rehabilitation. I will continue to observe them until their symptoms have returned to normal.
Until then, I will call this occurrence as “packet loss”.
————————————————————————————
Today Eric and I will return to our home back in Terra.
“I think our son will be overjoyed” I said
“Of course sweetie” replied Eric.
“Let’s board the capsule.”
They walked on a pristine steel promenade. In front of them a gigantic apparatus that looked like a beehive - the teleportation cluster. Each capsule in the cluster faintly glows in a pulsating pattern, emitting blue light in a rhythmic cycle.
They walked onto the lift and arrived at their capsule in the beehive cluster.
Sign reads “Capsule C12AZ-TRA”
“Looks like this is the one”
“Yes it is, lets go in”
Eric placed his palm on the biometric scanner to the side of the entree, and so did I.
The blue glass door slid open. We walked in and sat on our respective chairs.
“Initiating capsule C12AZ-TRA...”
We held onto our chairs and clung tight on the armrest.
“Acquiring mind-sample...”
A large needle burst out from the headrest of the chair. It went right into the couple’s brains. Their bodies spasmed. Their eyes roll frantically. Their jaws clenched shut.
“Standing by for translocation...”
. . .
“Translocation commencing”
Blue gas descends upon the chamber. They can not breathe.
Eric gasped hard for a breath of fresh air but it felt as if liquid fire entered his lungs.
We wheezed and we coughed. Sharp caustic pain descends onto our body. Blood starts pouring from our nose, our eyes, our ears, out orifices.
The couple wanted to scream, but they could not.
They felt their consciousness fading, for a brief moment at least. “They” were already uploaded to mother. They will be in Terra.
Then... for an instant of 0.02 nanoseconds. The mother system stopped. Their “data” were interrupted mid-transfer and the knowledge of translocation were not erased. They were corrupted with the knowledge of that brilliant pain.
| "Daddy?" The sparkling eyes belonging to my sweet Susanna appeared as the portation dust dissapated.
"Moochums!" I yelled picking her up into my arms and swinging her around as she giggled with glee.
I just had her for two days of every thirty, never rely on a federation lawyer, but I would make sure those two days would be the be-
"Aghh!" My right arm began to burn with pain making it seize. Setting Susanna down I found the cause. A large gash stretching from my wrist down to the elbow had appeared.
"Awww, Daddy did I hurt you?" Susanna asked her eyes starting to tear up.
"I..." Spotting the bloody hairpin at her feet the pieces fell into place. "I guess you did, but don't worry accidents happen to everyone." She began to cry, moistue dripping down to her chin and her face capturing a shade almost akin to that of magenta.
"I'm..I'm so sorry Daddy." She said between gasps.
Rushing to save the situation I found the perfect idea. "Don't worry it's nothing a little ice cream won't fix!"
Simmering down Susanna looked up and smiled.
In the back of my head that day I an idea was born that it may have been her plan all along, but that thought would have never come to the for front of my mind if I wasn't about to be sentenced to death for the murder of my ex-wife.
| |
[WP]Teleportation is invented as an instant means to travel. A man, having never used the technology begins to notice something wrong. He begins to suspect they aren't being teleported, but are being killed in the process. A new "version" appearing on the other side. Each time a bit more sinister. | At first, it was only an idea. They had a group of people who tested it and after a successful year, it became available for the masses. Celebrities and people with money went ahead and after a while it was considered as the standard way of transportation and travel. Teleportation.
A friend of mine was the first in our area who bought a porter, he has his own IT company, so he had the money. More people I know followed up and after two months, there was no-one at the bus station in the morning anymore. Or in the evening. I had the whole bus for myself.
“You know, we will probably close this line as well. We can’t keep it open for just you using it. “
“Mh. I guess I have to buy a bike or something. But what about you? Are you losing your job or..?”
“No, but I will be doing sightseeing tours. You know, tourists still want to see the city they visit.”
I’ve known Mike for years. He has been the bus driver since I started working at the other side of town. For the past weeks, we started talking more as I was the only person he was transporting and I know he tried to hold onto this route for me; and his own comfort, probably. He isn’t that much of a talker and needs time to warm up with people, so a tourist guide wasn’t his first choice, I assumed. But in a world where public transport isn’t needed anymore you take any chance you get.
People also stopped getting sick. Scientists claimed that humanity has wiped out every disease or developed an immunity to pretty much everything, but they weren’t quite sure. Except for me. It was the third cold I got this year but there weren’t any doctors offices or pharmacies open anymore, so I had to work through it on my own.
It was odd. It’s been almost four months since the mass production of the porters and two weeks ago, humans were declared as ‘healthy’. We evolved so fast over the past years, I was wondering what would come next.
Later that day I was meeting up with a friend. Snacks and drinks at our favourite pub, we tried to do this at least once a month. It was still weird, seeing him without his tattoos. They disappeared after his first teleportation and he wasn’t the only one, so apparently the porters wouldn’t transfer tattoo ink for whatever reason. He wasn’t mad about it, just shrugged it off. “I still have pictures of them and hey, life’s easier with teleportation, no big deal.”
He had spent a lot for his tattoos and every single one had a meaning, so his reaction confused me, but we weren’t that close anymore, so what did I know.
“You still haven’t bought a porter? You might need one, though. I heard they are closing public transport for good.”
“I know”, I responded, “but I’d rather buy a bike. I like having some time on the way to work to prepare for the day. “
“How about sleeping longer? That still is the best preparation”, he laughed.
Something about him bothered me. Something else than his tattoos. Then I noticed.. “Haven’t you had a scar on your arm? From your accident? You had it covered up by a tattoo but since they are all gone..”
“I never had a scar.” He interrupted me harshly, rude almost. He stared into my eyes, cold and angry. I raised my eyebrows. “No need to get angry, I guess I confused that with Jon.” His facial expression changed back to normal.
“You know, you should really buy a porter.”
I sighed. “Really? I think I’m not ready for that yet. In my opinion, this is all going on too fast and...” I suddenly noticed the silence in the bar. Everyone was looking at me with the exact same cold stare Darek had used before. The moment he noticed I stopped talking to look at the other people in the bar, he quickly asked me “Why don’t you go home and look for one? If you can’t afford it I could really help you with the payments..”
I looked back at him and he also had the cold dead stare again. “ You know what? You are right. I will do so right now.” In the corner of my eye I noticed everyone turning away from me and going on with their bar activities. Darek seemed pleased.
As I got home, I immediately started my PC but instead of searching for porters, I was looking for the studies when the porters were still in testing. Nothing weird, I knew everything from the news already. Safe way of travel, quick, risk-free, can’t transfer tattoo ink. This wasn’t helpful. But after some hours of searching, I found a blog entry of someone who claimed to be a relative of one of the scientists guiding the test studies.
“One of the subjects turned violent suddenly. It says they restrained him and took a closer look at him. They noticed that a scar on his wrist had disappeared, so further investigations were done. They had DNA-samples from every subject and when they compared it to his current DNA, it wasn’t 100% compatible anymore, more like 95%. The subject had changed, probably because of the porters. After a while they found out that they weren’t the subjects from the start anymore, they had been replaced every time. The genetic sample used to log into the porter was used to create instant clones with the consciousness of the original which was the only thing transferred via the porter. What happened to the original subjects is still unknown since the cloned subjects forced the scientists to use the porter and corrupted them before they could investigate further. My sister forwarded her papers to me and I am publishing this to inform others of the risks of using these technologies.”
A comment below that claimed it as fake, a story, creepy pasta. But it has confirmed what my gut was telling me from the beginning. Something sinister is going on. | "I'd noticed it slowly. It began with the early signs, the first symptoms, so to speak. Every one of our practice's clients and patients who came in had the usual screenings, the usual tests.
We first noticed the disorientation. The clumsy grasp on things. It started minorly and we chalked it up to fatigue caused by cold and flu season, or just the cold, but as it got worse we ended up doing neurological tests.
The teleporters were rewriting their nervous systems subtly every time. Changing dominance from right... To left.
It was making them sinister." | |
[WP]Teleportation is invented as an instant means to travel. A man, having never used the technology begins to notice something wrong. He begins to suspect they aren't being teleported, but are being killed in the process. A new "version" appearing on the other side. Each time a bit more sinister. | What happens when you teleport?
They compared it to sending files. You upload yourself into the mother system. The mother system then install you in your desired location. Simple. Safe. Succinct.
What if something happens during transference?
The elders said nothing wrong can possibly happen. It all happens in an instant anyways.
But here’s what’s happening. You “upload your data to the cloud”. Your body gets disintegrated. Then your files of “you” will get installed into a new freshly assembled body that the mother creates.
One day, the unexpected happens. Something caused a lag in the mother system. Connection was disrupted. Yet all the porters arrived safe and sound. Trust in the mother was at its peak, but this is when I noticed the sinister changes among my family members.
They were just returning from business in Europa that day. Their arrival time coincided with the server lag, and they were delayed by 0.02 nanoseconds. I didn’t think much of it.
But it was back home that they developed their symptoms. If anything, I think the error interfered with their... minds.
Their symptoms mainly were negligence. They slept over their alarms. Their speech pattern changed. They start to abandon their responsibilities, things like forgetting to buy groceries, go to work, etc etc.
I have decided to put them in rehabilitation. I will continue to observe them until their symptoms have returned to normal.
Until then, I will call this occurrence as “packet loss”.
————————————————————————————
Today Eric and I will return to our home back in Terra.
“I think our son will be overjoyed” I said
“Of course sweetie” replied Eric.
“Let’s board the capsule.”
They walked on a pristine steel promenade. In front of them a gigantic apparatus that looked like a beehive - the teleportation cluster. Each capsule in the cluster faintly glows in a pulsating pattern, emitting blue light in a rhythmic cycle.
They walked onto the lift and arrived at their capsule in the beehive cluster.
Sign reads “Capsule C12AZ-TRA”
“Looks like this is the one”
“Yes it is, lets go in”
Eric placed his palm on the biometric scanner to the side of the entree, and so did I.
The blue glass door slid open. We walked in and sat on our respective chairs.
“Initiating capsule C12AZ-TRA...”
We held onto our chairs and clung tight on the armrest.
“Acquiring mind-sample...”
A large needle burst out from the headrest of the chair. It went right into the couple’s brains. Their bodies spasmed. Their eyes roll frantically. Their jaws clenched shut.
“Standing by for translocation...”
. . .
“Translocation commencing”
Blue gas descends upon the chamber. They can not breathe.
Eric gasped hard for a breath of fresh air but it felt as if liquid fire entered his lungs.
We wheezed and we coughed. Sharp caustic pain descends onto our body. Blood starts pouring from our nose, our eyes, our ears, out orifices.
The couple wanted to scream, but they could not.
They felt their consciousness fading, for a brief moment at least. “They” were already uploaded to mother. They will be in Terra.
Then... for an instant of 0.02 nanoseconds. The mother system stopped. Their “data” were interrupted mid-transfer and the knowledge of translocation were not erased. They were corrupted with the knowledge of that brilliant pain.
| "I'd noticed it slowly. It began with the early signs, the first symptoms, so to speak. Every one of our practice's clients and patients who came in had the usual screenings, the usual tests.
We first noticed the disorientation. The clumsy grasp on things. It started minorly and we chalked it up to fatigue caused by cold and flu season, or just the cold, but as it got worse we ended up doing neurological tests.
The teleporters were rewriting their nervous systems subtly every time. Changing dominance from right... To left.
It was making them sinister." | |
[WP] In a world where magic and supernatural wonders exist. One of those wonders is called the 'gate' which opens up every few hundred years, connecting a passage to a different world bringing many cultures and items. This time, they brought modern humanity. | The Gate swirled in a maelstrom of rainbow colours; a flat disk that floated several inches above the white marbled tiles, it gave off a faintly acrid odour.
The secret of who had fashioned The Gate had long since been lost to history but, in the millennia that had intervened, The City of the Gate had gradually grown up haphazardly around it. Spirals of architecture flowing out from the Great Temple, itself a series of nested designs that had each been built to encompass their predecessors with the original Great Temple at its heart. And within that heart, The Gate stirred.
"Soon?" asked the Archvanqist, nose wrinkling at the smell.
"Soon," nodded Fevra, the lead Greeter, before consulting the small black book that he held in his pocket. It had been two hundred and eighty years since The Gate had last opened and now he was set to earn an honour that had eluded his father, his father's father, and even his father before him. He would be the first to greet a new culture, the first to welcome them to Savris, and begin the dialogue that would lead to their latest cultural growth spurt. He needed to make sure he got the details right.
"There were some, in the inner circles, who had begun to doubt it would ever open again," said the Archvanqist, his voice low "Between you and me, they were quite worrying what we would do."
"We would have managed, I am sure your Excellency," said Fevra, without quite believing it.
"Yes, yes, I suppose so," said the Archvanqist, stroking his long white beard between thumb and forefinger, "but we depend upon fresh inspiration, we depend upon new peoples and new technology to help us evolve. Without that, why, there were some saying we would have to start imagining for ourselves!"
Fevra stiffened slightly and turned his gaze to The Gate, the patterns of which had begun to swirl faster.
"I know," said the Archvanqist, continuing, "it's heresy, but it has been said. Two hundred and eighty years without progress is a long time."
"Yes, your Excellency," replied Fevra, keeping his eyes on The Gate before sneaking another glance at the book in his right hand.
The disk would become opaque soon, and that would be the signal to hurl the Fellstone Shards into it. Fevra knew that they would have only a few moments to initiate connection, but provided that he performed the ritual correctly they would establish a ten year conduit between worlds. His left hand curled around the Fellstone Shards in his pocket, his palm slick against them.
The swirling gathered pace, a kaleidoscope of colours washing together until suddenly they stopped and the disk slowly clouded over milky white.
Fevra stepped forward, now only six feet from where the disk hung in the air and hurled the handful of stones into the portal.
White light blazed with a crackling sound that filled the small chamber of the innermost Great Temple and Fevra was forced to shield his eyes. Behind him, a ripple of chanting emerged from the Great Temple that encircled them, a ripple that slowly grew to a roar as it passed through the many layers of temples and eventually to the massed crowds that were waiting outside.
The light faded and The Gate rippled to reveal a landscape of orange sand and small bushes beneath a cloudless blue sky.
"Shouldn't there be people?" whispered the Archvanqist.
"Umm. Yes, there should be people. The signs of The Gate have been present on the other side for the last ten years."
"So where are they?"
Fevra grimaced. Perhaps he had done something wrong. Too many stones? Too few?
"You need to go through," said the Archvanqist, "You need to see what's on the other side."
"The book says we need to wait for contact to be made from the other world."
"Fuck the book, I didn't come all this way to look at desert."
"But your Excellency...."
"Lead Greeter or not," the Archvanqist interrupted. "you could still end up with your head on a spike. You should perhaps reflect on that before making any final decisions."
"...it would be my pleasure to step into the other world," finished Fevra.
He took a tentative step towards The Gate, looking back to see that the Archvanqist's guards both had their hands on the pommels of their ceremonial swords, before fully committing and launching himself wholeheartedly through The Gate.
There was a sensation as if he had been stretched out very thin and then squeezed back together, before he stumbled out in the dusty orange landscape. The sun burned overhead, far hotter than he had ever experienced.
He looked around him but the desert stretched in every direction, all the way to the horizon. There was nothing. No people, no cities, no sign of any civilization. A snake slithered silently across the sand, twenty feet from him without paying him any attention. It appeared to Fevra that the world was entirely empty.
He stepped back through The Gate, and knelt before the Archvanqist.
"It appears to be a Dead World, your Excellency."
"How can this be? All the portents and signs were that this was one of the richest cultures yet?"
"Perhaps the signs were," Fevra hesitated, "misread, your Excellency."
The Archvanqist grew red in the face, fists clenched and eyes bulging. "Heads will roll for this error, heads will roll."
"Of course, Your Excellency."
"Shut it!" he said, waving his hands at Fevra, "I can't even look at it anymore."
"It will take several hours to shut The Gate, your Excellency. At least until the morning."
"Whatever it takes," said the Archvanqist dismissively, and strode away from him without a further word.
****
"I saw it and then rode my quad back here as fast as I could," said Bobby to his dad, "It was like a circle filled with rainbows."
"You been taking drugs, Bobby?" asked Miro, taking a slug from his bottle of Toohey's beer.
"I'm serious, Dad. It's out there," Bobby pointed off into the desert, which was now beginning to grow dark. "About forty miles that way."
Miro sighed. As the only law enforcement official within about five hundred miles of Australian Outback, he had to follow up on this kind of stuff.
"Fine, but you better not be gamin" he said, putting his beer down. "We'll head and out and go take a look in the morning..."
| Although experts believe the Sutton's Creek Incident may have been caused by a nuclear mishap, especially with the military base nearby, the area checks clear of fallout and scorch marks. One day, every man, woman, and child, along with the homes, streets, and cars all up and vanished, leaving behind a crater 5 miles wide. As if something came down and scooped them right out of our world.
Today was Sunday. That much was certain. Hubert had woken up early, eaten pancakes for breakfast, and driven off to church. On the way there, he stopped to put in an order for some bacon- cut extra thick, hickory smoked- and dropped off his bills at the post office. He'd taken a left down Main and a right on Fifth, which should have taken him to the church, but instead he stopped and wondered why a fifty foot tree was sitting in front of his car.
The roots of the thing snaked every which way, entangling the gym of Washington Elementary and crawling up its flagpole. A face as green as the mossy bark peeked out from above and hollered in a squeaky voice.
"Come again?" Hubert called back. The message was lost on him, as he was not fluent in that tongue. The face rolled its eyes and retreated, only to emerge from the tree's base with the body of a muscular young man, with hands balled into fists, which may have seemed threatening if the being weren't two feet tall.
It screamed again in an unintelligible language as Hubert nodded and mmhmm'ed in response. A few minutes later, it completed its tirade and, chest heaving, leaned against the hood of the car for support.
"Look, I understand you're mad. Your, uh, treehouse got moved and it's blocking Fifth street. But I ain't the one responsible. I'm just passing through." Hubert idled the car and got out. The tree-thing stumbled back.
"Whoah there, I'm friendly." He extended a hand to help it up. "I'm Hubert. And you are?"
The tree-thing tilted its head this way and that, and took Hubert's hand. "Preet," it burbled, pounding its chest twice.
"Well, Preet. I'm about to head off to church. You're welcome to join me if you like, seeing as it's right next door."
[subreddit](https://www.reddit.com/r/Tensingstories/) | |
[WP] You are visiting a foreign country, and you do not speak the local language. You come back to your hotel from a day of seemingly normal activity to find out you're all over the news, and have no idea why | This country just does not get it. It is full of strange people and strange customs. Halfway through my day crowds of people with cameras started following me around and many others played dress up. I don't know why.
I threw all of my dirty washwater out of my hotel window this morning. It almost hit a man who showed me what must have been a gesture of greeting. That I would use throughout the day.
I walked to the ice machine for ice is good to alleive hemmoroids. Someone tried to take my pants until they noticed that I was sitting in the machine. I used the new hello gesture I learned. They left in a hurry. It looks it is customary to run when in a hurry around here, so I resolved to fit in.
I used the tiny manual lift by sliding up the wooden door and lowering myself into the basement. The new electric ones are intimidating and they make me pee myself.
Unfortunately for me the screaming boy who who opened up the lift on the other side dropped the wine bottle which shattered. Also I peed in there because he scared me.
I ate my breakfast at the free food box behind the restaurant. People stared at me as if they had no idea it was there. Men dressed as the Polizei came to entertain me. I knew they weren't true Polizei because they didn't try to beat me or shoot me, but I was out of patience with their playfullness so I was forced to run away.
I found my way to the park and pooped behind the fontain by the other piles of poop. Then I noticed the man with the dog. He lets his dog poop there. Huh, I guess he's not picky. He was old and he was staring at me, so I used the new gesture.
The fake Polizei showed up and chased me. How fun? Right? I was in a hurry to get away from them. Too much of this fun was getting creepy and not the creepy fun, just creepy.
So now I'm all over the news and I had to sneak back into my hotel room. I have finally come to America because my cousin Borat recommended it! | After a slow day walking around Seoul I was greeted by restrained smiles from the hotel bell hops, I thought nothing of it, just them trying to do their best at their job, it was 4pm after all they had probably had a long day.
I sauntered through the lobby I felt an uneasy feeling, one by one the sea of faces that lay to the sides would sharply turn their faces towards me, I still very much thought nothing of it, I was the only person of non Korean decent so I had to chalk it up to that. I led myself back to my room, through the hotel corridors and still in such an emotional high from all the beauty I had seen throughout the day, I was almost stuporous in my elation.
I felt resigned to the TV and the peaceful blue hum it'd emit as I lay in my chair reading my book.
The voices were frantic but incoherent, and the newscasters babbled on about something I was completely unaware of because of the language barrier, it wasn't until a sketch of me appeared did I take interest.
I quickly turned on an English version of the news the headline read
"American man" (I'm actually English) "found throwing faeces with monkeys in Korean zoo" with a photo identical to mine.
I freaked out... massively, rummaging through the desk in the corner of my room in a desperate attempt to find a paper bag to hyperventilate into.
"Was that me??" I thought to myself "did I do that?" My mind raced through my memories of the day, through the art gallery and the botanical gardens but no memories of the zoo.
It turns out I have a twin brother, separated from birth, we share an identical face right down to the mole on my... our, left cheek, the only difference being is that he's completely schizophrenic and has been homeless in Seoul for thirty years, I discovered this from the police when I went down there to clear things up, after all they had caught him not twenty minutes after leaving the enclosure.
To this day(5 years later) I am now an ambassador for the mentally ill, and use this story to show to people that mental illness is more genetic than they realise.
| |
[WP] You are visiting a foreign country, and you do not speak the local language. You come back to your hotel from a day of seemingly normal activity to find out you're all over the news, and have no idea why | I didn't want to be the next Otto Warmbier. So, when I'd decided to go to North Korea, I knew not to touch the propaganda posters. Stick with the group on the tour. Don't be controversial.
My parents had visited East Germany in the 80s, and I thought their stories had prepared me for going into an isolated, communist country. We were four days into the seven day trip. So far, so good, but the lack of sleep, constant propaganda, and lies were getting to me. The fact that I'd been reading the Hunger Games series on the plane from Beijing only made me more paranoid. Oddly, they'd let me keep those books, and the younger of my two guides had even asked to read it on the trip to the DMZ. I'd heard that those were some of the more popular illegal Western movies there.
I'd done my research. I knew the truth.
So I have no idea what came over me as I stood in front of the bronze statue of the two Kims. Our guides had told us to go up, to bow, and to lay our flowers there. Something red-hot flashed through me, and instead, in front of the statue, I whistled Rue's iconic four-note song.
The puzzled guides hurried me away, off to the next stupid monument. I didn't speak Korean, but I could tell by their faces that I was in serious trouble. Back on the bus, a few miles later, we all heard a boom that shook the cracked concrete roads.
The bus took a sharp turn then, into a modern, tree-lined neighborhood along the Taedong river. The guide, shaking in her 1980s style pantsuit, explained that there had just been some sort of explosion in the square we'd just left, so we were going to stop in this neighborhood, near the embassies, until it all got sorted out.
I didn't need to speak Korean to tell that the guides thought I was the cause. I was the only unusual thing that had happened, and in this paranoid country, they probably thought my whistle was a secret signal of some kind. I scanned the surrounding streets. No US embassy, duh, but the tour company had informed us that if we needed help, the Swedish embassy would provide. Some agreement about it. I spotted the blue-and-yellow flag in front of just another drab grey Soviet-style building a block down from where we'd stopped. Surrounded by a locked gate and fence, but just chain link. No barbed wire.
I could read the writing on the metaphorical wall, and started my mental calculus. I was a sprinter, and chain link fences were easy to climb, at least for me. Being short came with the advantage of small feet that could fit in the fence holes. The guides weren't armed. So, I insisted as hard as I could, without making them suspicious, that I was going to be sick and needed to step outside the bus for a minute.
But instead, I launched myself off the bottom step of the bus stairs, and was running flat-out before I even hit the concrete. I could have qualified for Tokyo 2020 with that time, I thought as I ran. The wind rushing in my ears and my pounding heart blocked out the shouting. With a single, frenzied leap, I found myself halfway up the fence already, hands bleeding where the wire edges cut them. No time to spare a thought. Just climb. I dropped painfully to the other side of the fence when I was still six feet up, thinking crazily of my dad calling "safe!" when he used to play baseball in the backyard with my brother and I. I heard footsteps running from the embassy. Without looking away from my guides and the soldiers who were now running toward me, on the other side of the fence, I choked, "I need...see Ambassador Mats Foyer."
An assistant of his took me inside, and as she bandaged my hands, I saw my face, and heard those four simple notes repeated, then cut to the statue exploding, on a cheap Chinese TV set high in the wall.
"I didn't bomb Dear Leader," I repeated numbly. | After a slow day walking around Seoul I was greeted by restrained smiles from the hotel bell hops, I thought nothing of it, just them trying to do their best at their job, it was 4pm after all they had probably had a long day.
I sauntered through the lobby I felt an uneasy feeling, one by one the sea of faces that lay to the sides would sharply turn their faces towards me, I still very much thought nothing of it, I was the only person of non Korean decent so I had to chalk it up to that. I led myself back to my room, through the hotel corridors and still in such an emotional high from all the beauty I had seen throughout the day, I was almost stuporous in my elation.
I felt resigned to the TV and the peaceful blue hum it'd emit as I lay in my chair reading my book.
The voices were frantic but incoherent, and the newscasters babbled on about something I was completely unaware of because of the language barrier, it wasn't until a sketch of me appeared did I take interest.
I quickly turned on an English version of the news the headline read
"American man" (I'm actually English) "found throwing faeces with monkeys in Korean zoo" with a photo identical to mine.
I freaked out... massively, rummaging through the desk in the corner of my room in a desperate attempt to find a paper bag to hyperventilate into.
"Was that me??" I thought to myself "did I do that?" My mind raced through my memories of the day, through the art gallery and the botanical gardens but no memories of the zoo.
It turns out I have a twin brother, separated from birth, we share an identical face right down to the mole on my... our, left cheek, the only difference being is that he's completely schizophrenic and has been homeless in Seoul for thirty years, I discovered this from the police when I went down there to clear things up, after all they had caught him not twenty minutes after leaving the enclosure.
To this day(5 years later) I am now an ambassador for the mentally ill, and use this story to show to people that mental illness is more genetic than they realise.
| |
[WP] You are visiting a foreign country, and you do not speak the local language. You come back to your hotel from a day of seemingly normal activity to find out you're all over the news, and have no idea why | Contrary to what you may have heard, I didn't set out to be a hero. I flew to india to work. That's it. My coworkers said it smelled different, personal space is smaller, and don't expect much sleep. The project was enormous, and the division's Profit and Loss would be make or break on finishing this job.
I got up early, kissed the kids and the wife goodbye and took the limo to the airport. 6am. Ugh. Just like usual, through the lines and the questions. Business class is nice. Sitting in a chair for nearly 18 hours across two flights is not. I arrived exhausted, irritable, and yup, it smelled different. Amit met me at the airport, and took me to the hotel. The hotel was PACKED. Cameras everywhere, people in expensive suits and big tightly packed crowds. As we walked in, I realized that I left my laptop bag in the trunk. I pushed my way out, and caught the cab as he was trying to pull away.
And that's when it happened. I pulled my super heavy case out of the car, it caught on the doorframe, and rather than just untangling it I just pulled harder. I started off balance as the case came loose and as I tried to recover it the motion just winged it around. It made contact with something. I looked around the elevated ramp but then there was a BOOM! on the ground level. Really loud. Everybody screamed, and I hustled into the lobby. A bunch of serious looking guys were covering the guys in suits, so I just stayed away. I found Amit, and I went up to the room to sleep.
Next morning, I walked down to the lobby for breakfast. The elevator door opens, and I step out. As I walk into the restaurant, a guy near the door starts pointing at me and yelling. Soon the manager is my my side shaking my hand and saying "Thank you! Thank you!'" I have no freaking idea what is going on. Seeing my confusion the manager points at the wide screen TV.
The presenter is talking about an attempt by a suicide bomber on the Prime Minister that was foiled. The video shows the suicide bomber running up the ramp towards the covered car park. As he nears the doors, a massive laptop bag sails into view delivering a crushing blow. He tumbles over the railing, and his suicide vests detonates when he impacts the embankment below. The camera cuts to the next level camera that shows me pull my back back and nonchalantly walk away as the blast goes off behind me. It show big overweight me walk into the lobby, right past the dignitaries like nothing happened. I pulled it off because I had no idea.
I took out a suicide bomber, saved the Prime Minister and pulled off the The Walk, because i was overtired and utterly oblivious.
Gotta go. CNN is calling again. I fixed the problem at the customer site too. It was a good couple of days. | After a slow day walking around Seoul I was greeted by restrained smiles from the hotel bell hops, I thought nothing of it, just them trying to do their best at their job, it was 4pm after all they had probably had a long day.
I sauntered through the lobby I felt an uneasy feeling, one by one the sea of faces that lay to the sides would sharply turn their faces towards me, I still very much thought nothing of it, I was the only person of non Korean decent so I had to chalk it up to that. I led myself back to my room, through the hotel corridors and still in such an emotional high from all the beauty I had seen throughout the day, I was almost stuporous in my elation.
I felt resigned to the TV and the peaceful blue hum it'd emit as I lay in my chair reading my book.
The voices were frantic but incoherent, and the newscasters babbled on about something I was completely unaware of because of the language barrier, it wasn't until a sketch of me appeared did I take interest.
I quickly turned on an English version of the news the headline read
"American man" (I'm actually English) "found throwing faeces with monkeys in Korean zoo" with a photo identical to mine.
I freaked out... massively, rummaging through the desk in the corner of my room in a desperate attempt to find a paper bag to hyperventilate into.
"Was that me??" I thought to myself "did I do that?" My mind raced through my memories of the day, through the art gallery and the botanical gardens but no memories of the zoo.
It turns out I have a twin brother, separated from birth, we share an identical face right down to the mole on my... our, left cheek, the only difference being is that he's completely schizophrenic and has been homeless in Seoul for thirty years, I discovered this from the police when I went down there to clear things up, after all they had caught him not twenty minutes after leaving the enclosure.
To this day(5 years later) I am now an ambassador for the mentally ill, and use this story to show to people that mental illness is more genetic than they realise.
| |
[WP] You are visiting a foreign country, and you do not speak the local language. You come back to your hotel from a day of seemingly normal activity to find out you're all over the news, and have no idea why | "Hey honey, have you seen my laptop? I need to send that re..."
I stopped in my tracks as I pushed through the hotel door to find my wife red faced and sobbing. She immediately jumped from the bed and stood on the other side of the room. Genuine fear in her eyes.
"What have you done Brodie?", she whimpered, wrapping her arms around her chest.
"What? What are you talking about?", I said as I approached her.
I reached out to embrace her but she pulled away from my touch.
It was at this moment that the sound of sirens and frantic voices filled my ears. I turned to the television to see images of emergency crews walking through a courtyard obscured by dust and smoke. The ground was littered with large shapes.
"Are those bodies?" I asked, as I approached the TV.
My wife continued to sob.
The footage changed. Now it was showing security footage of the same courtyard. Although the people it was full of were very much alive. Without the smoke I realised it was a courtyard right here in Rome. In fact, I had sat there to eat lunch.
I looked closer at the screen and saw a man that looked a lot like me in the centre aggressively shoveling the last of his lunch into his mouth. The man who looked a lot like me stood and briefly checked his phone before walking away from the camera. A red circle appeared on the screen which drew my attention. Where the man that looked a lot like me had been sitting now sat a brown leather bag.
"Fuck, my laptop!" | ######[](#dropcap)
The plane ride was absolutely terrifying. My cousin and his brother said it would be so exhilarating, flying in the air like a bird.
Show me the bird that gets strapped into a seat next to 200 other birds and then flies higher than the clouds. What kind of bird would fly through a thunderstorm, get struck by lightning, and then keep on flying like nothing even happened? If there is such a bird, then perhaps we flew like it, but not like any bird I've ever seen.
I looked out the window once and regretted it immediately. There was only water out there! As far as my eyes could see, just water and clouds. People are not meant to fly, period.
It took me nearly an hour to get past customs. They needed to get someone who spoke Hindi, and when they finally did, they questioned me as though I were a state prisoner. My visa was valid, all my paperwork was in order, but always more questions.
Finally, when they knew more about me than my own mother, they let me through with a stern warning not to cause trouble and to leave before my visa expired. It made me think about how the writing on the Statue of Liberty should probably be changed - "Give us your rich" was more like it.
My cousin was waiting for me in the airport next to his full time driver. He was wearing a thick winter coat with fur liner and an expensive suit underneath. The driver, and everyone else waiting in the airport, were similarly dressed.
I had brought only summer clothes, at *his* suggestion, and wore only a plain cotton shirt and pants.
I gestured to the coat. "Arjun, what's with the coat? You said it was summer time."
Arjun opened his arms in a wide, palms up shurg, "It's supposed to be, but there's an artic chill again. What can I say?"
Nothing helpful apparently. "You could have brought an extra coat."
Arjun frowned and nodded to himself, "True, a thought for next time. Let's go, I have quite a evening planned."
I was exhausted already - having been awake and terrified for the 20 or so hours flying from Mumbai - but there was no talking my cousin down. The driver took my bag and we walked out the automated rotating doors.
Walking into the air outside felt like suddenly being submerged in an icy waterfall. It was so terribly cold that I lost my breath, as if I'd been punched in the chest. I looked at my cousin in a panic, but he just slapped me on the back, tightened his coat and stepped into the backseat of a black towncar. I quickly followed, thankful for the warmth.
"I have an itinerary for our whole evening Ishaan, first we will drop off your things at the hotel..."
I interrupted, still shivering "I need a coat Arjun. Several coats."
Arjun nodded in a haphazard way and continued, "...we will get you a coat, and then we will have the most amazing dinner you've ever eaten to celebrate your arrival."
I was not hungry. I had been sick multiple times on the plane and presently the idea of never eating again was not an offensive one.
Arjun made a phone call to someone, demanding in Hindi that the person on the other end of the call find the warmest men's winter coat possible and bring it to the Four Seasons. Arjun ended the phone call as abruptly as he started it and then turned back towards me.
"So, welcome to Washington DC cousin! I'm so excited you're here. Are you excited?" Arjun shot me the same immature look that usually precursed us both getting into a great deal of trouble when we were children. In contradiction to every bone in my body, I nodded.
********
The hotel room was unbelievable, I will admit, and for a brief few moments my spirits were lifted. I could even feel my appetite returning, just a little.
An employee of my cousin's arrived and dropped off the most ridiculous parka, the kind an explorer might use on a journey to the North Pole. I disappeared into it like a bundled up infant.
But it did its job and made walking outside tolerable. Arjun was so eager to get to dinner, which apparently we were late for, that he had his driver wait right outside the hotel, disrupting traffic. We raced back to the car, I looking like Earnest Shackleton leading an expedition, and drove at what I can only assume was far above the speed limit to a restaurant called "Bon".
We stepped out of the car and ran into the restaurant, where a man in a suit was waiting, as far as I could tell, for my cousin to arrive. "Good evening Monsieur, your table awaits."
Two men came to take our jackets, the one responsible for my coat eyeing it with confusion as he hefted its weight off my shoulders.
When the Maitre'd saw I was only wearing a cheap cotton t-shirt, he gave me a disdainful look and whistled towards the coat room. A man came out with an ill fitting sports coat and put it on me like I was a department store mannaquin. Then we raced to the table.
My cousin sat eagerly, ordering a pre-fixe menu and a bottle of very expensive wine.
"I don't drink Arjun."
Arjun looked at me as if I slapped him in the face. "Ishaan, today you drink - only today." I gave him an unsure nod, "just a sip?" He asked.
"Sure, alright. I'll have a sip."
I discovered I do not have much of a taste for wine, and perhaps too much of a taste for rich French food. From almost the moment we sat down the food came and never seemed to stop.
Duck liver, chicken skin, roasted vegetables, caviar and butter in prodigious proportions. A lot of new flavors, the rotted cheese in particular was difficult to enjoy, but I ate quite a lot.
When dessert came, I was eager, but incapable. I asked Arjun if we could take it back with us, and he laughed like I was a simpleton and said he would request a box to put the desserts into.
By the time we left, we had not spoken more than a few words together, consumed with the act of eating, and my stomach was rumbling dangerously with indigestion.
In the car, Arjun opened up at last. "I've missed you cousin." He looked out the window, a certain sadness in his gaze
"In some ways, I've missed home."
For the first time since getting off the plane, I felt I was talking to my cousin again. Unfortunately, I was also going to be sick. "Stop the car."
"What?"
"Arjun, stop the car, I'm going to be sick."
The car stopped and I raced out, puking in front of a large black gate, still holding the brown paper bag filled with French desserts. In the middle of my fit, I tossed the bag at the black gate in frustration and disgust.
When I finally emptied my stomach completely, feeling better and worse at the same time, I slowly got back into the car. Arjun seemed to be in a major hurry, but I passed out right then and there, completely spent.
Eventually they got me up to the hotel room and left me for the night. I slept forever it felt like and eventually awoke to Arjun in my room.
"You're famous cousin!"
Groggily I grumbled a 'why.'
Arjun turned on the TV to some news station where a broadcaster was talking about something with a big headline underneath him. My cousin translated what he was saying, laughing throughout.
"White House security is looking for this man, seen here vomiting on the White House gate and throwing an unidentified brown paper bag over the fence. The bag is currently being examined by the bomb squad. If you have any information about this man, please call 1800544TIPS."
Then they played a video recording of me puking my guts out at that big black gate, and throwing my creme brulee at the White House in what looked for all the world like righteous anger.
Laying in the horsehair bed of the Four Seasons suite, my cousin laughing uproariously at the foot of the bed, my stomach still a mess from last night, I wished I'd never come on this trip.
******
##### For More Legends From The Multiverse
##### r/LFTM
| |
[WP]Tales tell of a legendary Hero that helped the kingdom when all seemed hopeless, and slayed the necromancer tyrant. The stories conveniently left out that the Hero was an mortician who really did not appreciate that all his hard work burying bodies was ruined when they rose from their graves. | "Grandpa! Why is your name here!" An excited voice rang out, and my bed shuddered as a young boy energetically jumped onto the foot of the bed. I smiled, and sat up.
"History and its Heroes," I mumbled, and looked at the page that my grandchild held open. "Indeed, that is my name...well then, let me tell you a story."
I chuckled as I looked at my grandchild's shiny eyes, and started recounting.
It was the year 1941, in Europe. Back then, I was a mortician-cum-gravekeeper, and I had been drafted, under a humanitarian flag, to help in disposing of bodies during a war between mortals.
The pay was fine and dandy, and I enjoyed my work. I would exhume hastily-created mass graves, before burying each body with due dignity, while adorning these braves' final place of rest with a deathbloom.
It didn't take long for my efforts to be recognised, and soon, all parties participating in the war welcomed me with open arms, while spouting some BS about dignifying the war and other schmuck.
My retort to their flowery words was one simple sentence. "How about y'all stop fighting and buy me a drink?"
Well, anyway.
Most of the graves I'd erected were found on the Alaste parallel, a randomly named and demarcated line that saw the most fighting. The war revolved around this particular line for 5 months in 1945.
Before both sides unequivocally sued for peace with each other. The cause?
The awakening of a necromancer to his heritage. Becoming a necromancer wasn't as easy as wishing for it. You needed the bloodline, and more importantly, a catalyst.
Like a damned war.
And so, on August 1945, there was an unprecedented surge in casualties on both sides. One section of the Alaste graveyard had risen up, their inhabitants wild and ready to slaughter.
And I found peace, as broken and battered armies withdrew, their correspondents all but in shock. I was pretty pissed, however.
The graves had cost quite a lot of money, and it all came out from MY pocket. I decided to pay the necromancer a visit.
I shook my head, and lifted my head from my reminiscing, and saw the curious face of my grandchild.
"Grandpa, why did you stop? Tell me about your great battle with the necromancer!"
I blinked. What battle? I shot a quizzical look at him, and picked up the book.
300 great battles? Impressive stratagems? What on earth were they talking about?
I sighed. "Look, kid. Sometimes, books lie. I have no frigging clue why the book said all these, unless you tell me claiming damages and hiring a necromancer counts as 'great battles' and 'impressive stratagems. I needed manpower, and he sold it to me. End of story."
I rubbed my nose. "Mortimer!" I hollered. "The kid wants to know what happened on 1945!"
I tussled his silky black hair, and sent him downstairs to the butler.
| Contorting my face as shot my drink, maybe I still had to many taste buds, as the warm spiced rum burned all the way down. Even my health was sagging in these years. My sleep rare and often shortened, my diet comprised of malnourishment and cigarettes as time was often fractured.
I stubbed another smoke, sitting on my porch while another orange dusk slipped behind a distant mountainside. It was at this time, for some Godforsaken reason, the dead dare try my patience. I could here them claw, clamor, and break away their their cold tombs. Pulling my collar close, I pumped my shotgun, racking a round. Brass checking my pistol, securing it on my drop holster, I made into my cemetery for another night of watch. | |
[WP] Write either a genuinely nice story or a story that looks nice and then has an unexpected turn. Don't let any people reading know which you wrote until the end. | The day of the Wildewood Summer Fair had finally arrived. Charlie Hayes, now 12 years and 3 days old, leapt out of bed with pure exhilaration—today was the day. His summer would now truthfully be, “The best summer ever.” Since school vacation had started in June, Charlie had been working for old Mrs. Bauer: cutting her lawn, watering her flowers, and taking her dog, a big husky named Max, to the park daily for walks. His reward? Fifty-two dollars, a small fortune. Just enough, thought Charlie as he counted his sum for the umpteenth time.
At around 12:30pm, Charlie buckled himself in the passenger-seat of his brother’s Toyota Corolla. Nick Hayes, a recent Graduate of Wildewood High School, was to be celebrated in tonight’s annual “Golden Boy” parade for his successfully leadership in bringing a championship to the town after a 10-year drought. At the State Finals, Nick Hayes set the record in the 100-meter-dash, a mere 10.16 seconds; landing him a full-ride scholarship to Paramount University, and an invitation to a Team USA scouting event.
Arriving at the gates, 12:55pm, Charlie Hayes heart rate increased. Finally. Since last summer, Charlie had one goal: conquer “The Ring of Fire.” It was an inverted loop-coaster, standing 58-feet off the ground, and blazing in shades of red and orange. Last year, riding with Nick as he was not old-enough to solo, Charlie had burst into tears after one rotation and asked to leave the ride. Fear had gotten the best of Charlie, but this would be different: Charlie was braver now. Plus, he had to impress the girl.
Delilah Thomas, the most-popular girl in the 7th grade, had accepted Charlie’s invitation to the Fair. They had been friends and neighbors until the 4th grade when Delilah’s family moved across town. Though no longer “close”, they still remained friendly and cordial, and Charlie’s crush only deepened. Tonight, Charlie would be brave for Delilah.
After paying for her ticket and leaving it at the will-call table, Charlie and Nick entered the fairgrounds. “Remember, Charlie, meet me back here at 7,” Nick said before setting off with his friends. That gave him nearly 6-hours. Perfect. Just enough.
A few minutes later, time itself slowed down. The noise faded in the background, and all Charlie could hear and see was the girl walking toward him wearing a purple top, jeans, and a matching purple flower in her hair. Delilah. After finding the ability to speak, Delilah thanked him for the ticket and they headed off to explore the fair. Step one of Charlie’s Best Summer Ever was underway.
The first thing they did was the bumper-cars, Delilah’s choice. Charlie strapped into a red car with an emblazoned #13 on the side, while Delilah found the yellow #5. Once the remaining cars were filled, the imaginary green-flag was dropped and the “race” was on. Three minutes of pure, unbridled joy. Charlie loved to hear her laugh.
They spent the next few hours exploring the various tilt-a-whirls, teacups, and the standard carnival rides that filled the place. Charlie had successfully managed to knock down a milk-bottle pyramid, securing an oversized stuffed puppy for Delilah as a reward. They had consumed enough kettle-corn and soft pretzels to last them an entire lifetime, or so they exclaimed, yet found room to add a hot-dog or two. The fried Oreos would certainly come later.
At approximately 5:45pm, the parade made its way through the fairgrounds, everybody toasting and cheering the local town heroes, Nick Hayes among them. At the culmination of the parade, the mayor proclaimed that in honor of Nicholas Hayes achievements, he would receive a $1,000 award to be used for travel expenses for his trip to the Team USA scouting event. For Charlie Hayes, he could not have felt more proud of his big brother, his hero.
After the celebration, Charlie knew it was now-or-never. The Ring of Fire was waiting. As they slowly made their way to the front of the line, Charlie’s body filled with fear. Would he embarrass himself again? Would Delilah laugh at him? These thoughts filled his brain, even as the seat-belts were fastened and the lap-bar closed around them, Charlie felt scared. The whir of the engine soon fired up, sending a mild-panic through Charlie. Sweat started to form on the ridge of his brow, and he knew that soon the tears would come.
In that moment, he didn’t expect Delilah’s hand to grasp his, nor did he expect that it would give him a newfound confidence and courage. Ring of Fire? Consider yourself vanquished, Charlie proudly exclaimed inside his thoughts. As the ride entered its final rotation, the still-clenched combination of their hands were raised high in victory. They had done it. He had done it. Best. Summer. Ever.
At 6:55, Charlie and Delilah made their way to the exit gates, where Nick was waiting, still holding hands. As she thanked Charlie for a great night, she leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. He didn’t care that his brother witnessed it and surely would make a joke or two about it later; Charlie Hayes was the happiest he had ever been.
Strapped into his brother’s Corolla, the Hayes brothers joyfully recounted the events of the past few hours, their near-perfect Summer days. They shared hopes and dreams of their respective futures. Nick in the Olympics, Charlie and Delilah sitting in a tree. Everything was looking up. As they slipped through the intersection on Mason Road and Baron Avenue, the driver of the F-250 couldn’t stop in time.
The last thing Charlie Hayes ever saw was the lights.
| It is a glorious morning for picking flowers. The sun hangs in a sky of cartoonish-blue, making the leaves of the aspens seem to glow as they bask in their radiance. I can feel the warmth of the light through the fabric of my clothes, nurturing, comforting. It feels so good to be outside.
I step carefully through the grass, feel the dew kiss the soles of my bare feet. Bursts of color in every direction. Bright pastel blossoms of violets and daffodils vie for attention against the bold primaries of the peonies and narcissus. I ignore the roses - *Too obvious.*
Then I spot the honeycomb rows of the gladiolus in the corner. *Perfect*, I think. *Emily will love these.*
I crouch down, gently cutting the stalks, admiring the two-toned blooms as I work. *Two distinct colors, but they blend together, making something new. It's like us - two very different people that together create something bigger than either of us.*
My eyes - like honeybees - fly across the tops of the flowers, hungry for more. As I make my rounds, I flesh out Emily's bouquet with tiger lilies and nasturtiums, baby's breath and forget-me-nots. I smile as I harvest this last one, imagining what I will say as I point them out to her. *Please, my love...don't ever forget me.*
As I head back inside, wiping my feet on the doormat - imagine ruining my surprise by tracking muddy footprints through the house! - I picture Emily's face in my mind. The fine, porcelain skin and the pale red lips, the delicate curves of her nose and chin...and, of course, her eyes. Those eyes! The hazel hue of the irises seems to change color with her mood - brown when she is calm, green when she is angry, blue when she is sad...
*And what color will they be when she sees the flowers?* I wonder. I can picture her smile - the white teeth, the near-perfect grin made even better by the slight gap between her front incisors. But I cannot picture her eyes. *I'll have to remember to look at them when she sees her bouquet.*
My feet trace the topography of the house - the tile of the kitchen to the hardwood of the entryway and the stairs, to the beige carpet of the hallway leading to the bedroom. *Our* bedroom.
I linger at the threshold to simply gaze upon her, to relish how lucky I am that I have her still. Her eyes are closed. I can't wake her when she's like this, of course - it would be foolish of me to even try.
*I'm so lucky* I think. I study her body through the tears that seep from my eyes, watch her, doing what I can to commit her appearance to my memory. I pad over and sit down next to her on the bed, lay my free hand gently on her arm.
I wait. In the silent stillness of our bedroom, where she has spent so many days, I sit, and I wait, with one thought on my mind: *Please, my love...don't ever forget me.*
***
/r/ShadowsofClouds | |
[WP] All Gods exist. The only reason we haven't heard from them in the last 2000 years is because they are too busy fighting for our survival. And they are losing. |
Looking back, it was our arrogance that doomed us. Our pride. Our power.
When the Unending Shadow came, warping the edges of reality, we sounded the trumpets and fought it back. We battled until it fled, and when it returned, we battled once more. Out victory was sweet and rightful and just, for how could we lose, when we were gods, the scions of creation?
And yet how blind we were. Our victories meant nothing, and then triumph turned to ash in our mouths.
It was the Old Ones that felt it first: a weakening of the resolve, a dimming of their essence. They could not fight anymore, and when they returned to our cradle, they discovered their altars disparaged and their temples lost. The river of prayers that nourished them had grown thin and then evaporated altogether.
The Old Ones are gone now, but we didn’t heed their cries. Their passing was the order of the cosmos, we thought. They had failed creation, and so they fell, giving life to new things.
New pantheons emerged; more brothers and sisters joined our ranks. They fought with us until they, too, turned to fading memories and dust on musty scrolls. We are few now.
The Shadow was cunning. Its war was never here. While we fought, blinding by our own glory, its emissaries quietly slipped past, bringing the fruit of enlightenment to the world. And humanity, our greatest weakness, fell for the trap of reason and science. It does not believe in us anymore.
And how can we fight for something that does not believe?
How can we even...exist?
| All things must end.
In the beginning they hadn't really been formed, they simply existed as a single whole, and the world was created. As it was formed, bit by bit, the whole became many. The part of it that made life, became life, and the part that made earth became earth. But the aspects kept splitting and merging to form new gods. As aspects of wind and water merged, a god of the sea was formed, and as aspects of life and earth formed, a god of volcanos was formed.
And so it went. The earth kept forming, in more and more complex patterns, and thought was formed, and with thought, the gods became sapient. They began looking on their creation with pride, and love, though rivalries formed between them. Some of the gods wanted nature to rule over the world, but others wanted the nascent civilizations to thrive, and build.
It was then that the gods began to feel something. Something pulling on reality. It would rip. It would tear, and the world would pour out. Into nothing. Everything that they had built, everything that they were. So they began trying to hold it together, and their attention fell from the earth. As their attention drifted, the earth began to drift as well. The civilizations began finding their own path, and warred with each other. Where they had their prayers answered before, and a presence of divinity was near them, there was nothing.
So the people started making the world their own. The world would rebel and quake, as to shake them off, but they held fast. They grew and grew, and tamed the world. They treated it both with virtue and malice, as they settled across the globe. As they grew, they started to learn how the world worked, how the grass grew, and how the wind howled. And they became to know what the gods knew. This world would tear apart. Unwilling to end here, they looked past this earth. They built great wonders, to guide them across the void, to reach a place, that would not be torn. That would be safe.
The gods looked upon this. Their children had grown up. They no longer relied on higher beings to guide them. They guided themselves. Here the gods would stay, and hold the world together, until either they faltered, or the people would come back, to stitch it together again. They looked forward to meeting their children again.
Lets not disappoint them. | |
[WP] All Gods exist. The only reason we haven't heard from them in the last 2000 years is because they are too busy fighting for our survival. And they are losing. | I have no idea what to do now.
My mother always told me that my father would have been the one to get me killed. Funny thing though, I had never met the man. She often talked fondly of him. I, on the other hand, just wanted to forget about him. He didn’t mean anything to me. No contact from him not even so much as a birthday card, not once a letter, and I am considered the bastard.
She died today, my mother.
I walked in on her splayed out on her bed. Her bowels had released and the foul smell drove me out of her bedroom.
In shock I walked slowly out of our small apartment and across the hall to knock on my neighbor Atty’s door.
I waited, the sound of the knock ringing in my ears.
“Katarina?” The old woman asked through the door.
“Y-yes, it me.”
She opened the door.
“Is everything alright young lady?”
“No,” I sobbed. “M-my mom is not breathing.”
“Child,” She gave me a quick hug. “Stay here.”
She moved across the hall. I watched her move into my mother’s bedroom. Moments later she came out.
“Come let me make you some breakfast.”
She made a quick all to 911 and then busied herself in the kitchen as I sat at her small table. The table was the kind with the metal trim around the table top, thin linoleum pealing in places, its metal chars stiff and unyielding.
I hurt all over.
***
The next week was a blur. Police, paramedics, the hospital, the funeral home and then finally the funeral.
I always thought funerals were rainy days but the sun shone brightly. The green of the grass seemed to be so vivid, the smell of the dirt from the open grave is something I will never forget. I sat in the funeral home’s chair watching the dirt that filled the hole. Atty stood nearby watching.
“How you doing?” A man said to me as he sat down next to me.
How am I doing. Well mister, my mom just died. I’m 16 and I have no home. I’m an orphan. How the fuck are you?”
“Meh.” Is all I could let out.
“I know life can throw you some curveballs. I am sorry.”
“Sorry?” I asked “I don’t even know you, did you even know my mom?”
“I did, a long time ago.”
“Well good for you.” I got up and left the man sitting in the chair, stopping by a tree.
Atty moved to the tree with me.
“I had to call him.” She said.
“What?” I asked.
“Your dad.”
I glanced back at the man, now standing, watching me. Charcoal suit, black tie and green eyes. Not much to look at. He walked over to us.
“I know you don’t understand. B-“
She cut him off “No, you don’t get to come back into my life, after sixteen years of nothing. I don’t need you.”
“Kat.”
I turned away, wincing. Only my mom called me Kat.
“We don’t have time for this, Attillas.” He whispered
Attillas? How did Atty know my dad?
“Nuada, this is your own doing. She will need time.” Atty said.
“Kat, er, Katarina we need to go.”
“Come child,” Atty said. “It is ok. We will explain all of this I promise.”
A single tear rolled down my face as I got in the car.
I looked back at the grave as we pulled out of the cemetery. We were not on the road very long when the man, my bastard father, turned down a side street and stopped next to an old shed.
“We need to get out here, dear.” Atty said.
“Why?”
“Katarina get out. It is not the time.” Atty scolded.
Her tone of voice made me nervous, I had never heard her speak this way. Any rebelliousness I felt melted. I opened the door and scooted out of the backseat.
As I walked around the backend of the car, Atty and my bastard father walked into the shed.
I paused out front.
“Katarina, it is ok child, you need to come in.”
“Are we ready?” my bastard father said as I entered.
He’s clearly a lunatic. “Uh, rea-“
A green light filled the room, brightening until I could no longer see and then I was moving up. It felt slow but I felt a great pressure on me. I struggled to stay standing up. I shut my eyes with the effort and saw twinkling stars behind my eyelids and felt light headed.
***
I woke in a soft place. Through the blurry vision of first consciousness I could see the shape of my bastard father standing over me.
I thought I heard Atty off to my left, “Nuada, you need to fix this.”
My head felt split and my leg felt like it was tore off.
“She needs to be conscious.” He said. “Kat, can you hear me?”
“Wha-What happened?”
“You fell as we ascended, dear, right before we stopped.” Atty said. “The inertia from the ascension caused you to hit harder than you would just from falling. Your head is bleeding, and you have a broken leg. Don’t worry your father is good at what he does. He is the god of healing after all”
God? Green light filled her vision once more. The pain in her head subsided. He let tingled and a she felt a soft itch as it started to feel better.
“All better,” Her bastard Father said. “I am needed at the front, Attillas, please watch over her for me.”
“Its been 16 years Nuada, what’s another day compared to that.”
“Thank you.”
I was fully awake and blinked the last bit of fuzziness from my eyes. I started to sit up. A young beautiful woman put a hand on my shoulder pushing down on it.
“You need to rest, dear.”
“Atty?”
The woman smiled, “Yes, this must be so much for you she said. I envy your strength”
“Where are we?”
“Well, in the cloud, Its home of our Pantheon.”
“Oh,” is all I could think say to that.
We sat in silence for a moment. “Did you say god of healing?”
“I did, your father is one of the original four children.”
“And, what are you?”
“Just a servant, Katarina.”
“Where did he go?”
“To heal, Oh, of course you wouldn’t know, why would you?”
“Know what?” I prompted.
“We are at war.”
****
r/Okay_writing | All things must end.
In the beginning they hadn't really been formed, they simply existed as a single whole, and the world was created. As it was formed, bit by bit, the whole became many. The part of it that made life, became life, and the part that made earth became earth. But the aspects kept splitting and merging to form new gods. As aspects of wind and water merged, a god of the sea was formed, and as aspects of life and earth formed, a god of volcanos was formed.
And so it went. The earth kept forming, in more and more complex patterns, and thought was formed, and with thought, the gods became sapient. They began looking on their creation with pride, and love, though rivalries formed between them. Some of the gods wanted nature to rule over the world, but others wanted the nascent civilizations to thrive, and build.
It was then that the gods began to feel something. Something pulling on reality. It would rip. It would tear, and the world would pour out. Into nothing. Everything that they had built, everything that they were. So they began trying to hold it together, and their attention fell from the earth. As their attention drifted, the earth began to drift as well. The civilizations began finding their own path, and warred with each other. Where they had their prayers answered before, and a presence of divinity was near them, there was nothing.
So the people started making the world their own. The world would rebel and quake, as to shake them off, but they held fast. They grew and grew, and tamed the world. They treated it both with virtue and malice, as they settled across the globe. As they grew, they started to learn how the world worked, how the grass grew, and how the wind howled. And they became to know what the gods knew. This world would tear apart. Unwilling to end here, they looked past this earth. They built great wonders, to guide them across the void, to reach a place, that would not be torn. That would be safe.
The gods looked upon this. Their children had grown up. They no longer relied on higher beings to guide them. They guided themselves. Here the gods would stay, and hold the world together, until either they faltered, or the people would come back, to stitch it together again. They looked forward to meeting their children again.
Lets not disappoint them. | |
[WP] All Gods exist. The only reason we haven't heard from them in the last 2000 years is because they are too busy fighting for our survival. And they are losing. |
Looking back, it was our arrogance that doomed us. Our pride. Our power.
When the Unending Shadow came, warping the edges of reality, we sounded the trumpets and fought it back. We battled until it fled, and when it returned, we battled once more. Out victory was sweet and rightful and just, for how could we lose, when we were gods, the scions of creation?
And yet how blind we were. Our victories meant nothing, and then triumph turned to ash in our mouths.
It was the Old Ones that felt it first: a weakening of the resolve, a dimming of their essence. They could not fight anymore, and when they returned to our cradle, they discovered their altars disparaged and their temples lost. The river of prayers that nourished them had grown thin and then evaporated altogether.
The Old Ones are gone now, but we didn’t heed their cries. Their passing was the order of the cosmos, we thought. They had failed creation, and so they fell, giving life to new things.
New pantheons emerged; more brothers and sisters joined our ranks. They fought with us until they, too, turned to fading memories and dust on musty scrolls. We are few now.
The Shadow was cunning. Its war was never here. While we fought, blinding by our own glory, its emissaries quietly slipped past, bringing the fruit of enlightenment to the world. And humanity, our greatest weakness, fell for the trap of reason and science. It does not believe in us anymore.
And how can we fight for something that does not believe?
How can we even...exist?
| “Zeus, to your left!”
The lightning God jumped sideways in an attempt to dodge the
hurtling fireball. His leg caught some of the resulting explosion, burning a
good side of it. A guardian angel quickly ran over to tend his wounds. The
angel began to worry. She was on her last drops of holy water, and the enemies
were surrounding in. This would be their last stand.
The angel Elyssia began to recall how this all started. It
was just a normal day in Heaven, writing down some of the events made by humans
so far. There was a massive explosion outside. Out the window the angel saw
Heaven was literally on fire. Millions of creatures were swarming all around
the land. She knew they could only be one thing:
The demons.
The tensions between the demons and Gods were rising for
thousands of years, but no one ever expected an attack on this scale. The
demons catapulted fire on just about everything they could see and captured
everybody they could find. Elyssia was lucky there was an escape hatch, many
others had their wings tortuously ripped off.
Despite compromise efforts the demons would not accept anything
but completely and total control of Heaven. Specifically, total control over
speaking to mankind. The Gods never figured out exactly what they would say
upon winning, but let’s just say it wouldn’t be very nice.
Heaven mobilized, and Elyssia volunteered to be on the medic
team. For this whole time of 2,000 years she was on the battlefield with Zeus,
keeping him strong and fighting. This was the fiercest battle both had ever
been in, and Zeus was quickly gaining damage.
Another fireball. Zeus managed to get his bolt to directly
hit before it landed, grabbing his shooting arm in pain. With my bruised wings I helped
guide the 250-pound man to shelter. There was a small cabin just beside of us.
I tried shaking my bottle, but it was no use. Not a single
drop of holy water. Zeus’s chest was completely bruised, and cuts scattered
across his arm. Elyssia couldn’t do anything but tell him to hang in their and
wait for backup.
“E-Elyssia…” the God groaned.
“Yes my lord?” she replied.
“I-I told think I’m going to make it this time. The cuts are too deep.”
“Don’t says that Zeus. They’ll be here shortly, I promise.”
Zeus looked down in deep thought.
“What’s even the purpose of winning Elyssia? We’ve already
lost Vishnu, Ashanti, Jesus is still missing in action. Even if we do win, what
do we tell people who’ve worshiped them? They’re dead, too bad?”
They both stared at each other for a couple seconds. Zeus
spoke up again.
“Well, I guess I have to do this.”
Zeus reached into his pocket, and pulled out a stopwatch.
“Elyssia, Kronos gave this to me before going on the upper
front. This is a very special watch. If you press the top hard enough, the
universe will reset.”
He placed out the golden device.
“Elyssia, I need you to press it.”
The angel pulled back with tears, shaking her head.
“And why are you punishing me with this task my lord?” she stumbled
out.
“Because I don’t have the heart too.” Zeus laughed between
coughs.
He placed the watch in Elyssia’s hand, gave her a weak
smile, and promptly went limp.
She now stared at the watch, not knowing what to do.
/r/StoryStar | |
[WP] All Gods exist. The only reason we haven't heard from them in the last 2000 years is because they are too busy fighting for our survival. And they are losing. | I have no idea what to do now.
My mother always told me that my father would have been the one to get me killed. Funny thing though, I had never met the man. She often talked fondly of him. I, on the other hand, just wanted to forget about him. He didn’t mean anything to me. No contact from him not even so much as a birthday card, not once a letter, and I am considered the bastard.
She died today, my mother.
I walked in on her splayed out on her bed. Her bowels had released and the foul smell drove me out of her bedroom.
In shock I walked slowly out of our small apartment and across the hall to knock on my neighbor Atty’s door.
I waited, the sound of the knock ringing in my ears.
“Katarina?” The old woman asked through the door.
“Y-yes, it me.”
She opened the door.
“Is everything alright young lady?”
“No,” I sobbed. “M-my mom is not breathing.”
“Child,” She gave me a quick hug. “Stay here.”
She moved across the hall. I watched her move into my mother’s bedroom. Moments later she came out.
“Come let me make you some breakfast.”
She made a quick all to 911 and then busied herself in the kitchen as I sat at her small table. The table was the kind with the metal trim around the table top, thin linoleum pealing in places, its metal chars stiff and unyielding.
I hurt all over.
***
The next week was a blur. Police, paramedics, the hospital, the funeral home and then finally the funeral.
I always thought funerals were rainy days but the sun shone brightly. The green of the grass seemed to be so vivid, the smell of the dirt from the open grave is something I will never forget. I sat in the funeral home’s chair watching the dirt that filled the hole. Atty stood nearby watching.
“How you doing?” A man said to me as he sat down next to me.
How am I doing. Well mister, my mom just died. I’m 16 and I have no home. I’m an orphan. How the fuck are you?”
“Meh.” Is all I could let out.
“I know life can throw you some curveballs. I am sorry.”
“Sorry?” I asked “I don’t even know you, did you even know my mom?”
“I did, a long time ago.”
“Well good for you.” I got up and left the man sitting in the chair, stopping by a tree.
Atty moved to the tree with me.
“I had to call him.” She said.
“What?” I asked.
“Your dad.”
I glanced back at the man, now standing, watching me. Charcoal suit, black tie and green eyes. Not much to look at. He walked over to us.
“I know you don’t understand. B-“
She cut him off “No, you don’t get to come back into my life, after sixteen years of nothing. I don’t need you.”
“Kat.”
I turned away, wincing. Only my mom called me Kat.
“We don’t have time for this, Attillas.” He whispered
Attillas? How did Atty know my dad?
“Nuada, this is your own doing. She will need time.” Atty said.
“Kat, er, Katarina we need to go.”
“Come child,” Atty said. “It is ok. We will explain all of this I promise.”
A single tear rolled down my face as I got in the car.
I looked back at the grave as we pulled out of the cemetery. We were not on the road very long when the man, my bastard father, turned down a side street and stopped next to an old shed.
“We need to get out here, dear.” Atty said.
“Why?”
“Katarina get out. It is not the time.” Atty scolded.
Her tone of voice made me nervous, I had never heard her speak this way. Any rebelliousness I felt melted. I opened the door and scooted out of the backseat.
As I walked around the backend of the car, Atty and my bastard father walked into the shed.
I paused out front.
“Katarina, it is ok child, you need to come in.”
“Are we ready?” my bastard father said as I entered.
He’s clearly a lunatic. “Uh, rea-“
A green light filled the room, brightening until I could no longer see and then I was moving up. It felt slow but I felt a great pressure on me. I struggled to stay standing up. I shut my eyes with the effort and saw twinkling stars behind my eyelids and felt light headed.
***
I woke in a soft place. Through the blurry vision of first consciousness I could see the shape of my bastard father standing over me.
I thought I heard Atty off to my left, “Nuada, you need to fix this.”
My head felt split and my leg felt like it was tore off.
“She needs to be conscious.” He said. “Kat, can you hear me?”
“Wha-What happened?”
“You fell as we ascended, dear, right before we stopped.” Atty said. “The inertia from the ascension caused you to hit harder than you would just from falling. Your head is bleeding, and you have a broken leg. Don’t worry your father is good at what he does. He is the god of healing after all”
God? Green light filled her vision once more. The pain in her head subsided. He let tingled and a she felt a soft itch as it started to feel better.
“All better,” Her bastard Father said. “I am needed at the front, Attillas, please watch over her for me.”
“Its been 16 years Nuada, what’s another day compared to that.”
“Thank you.”
I was fully awake and blinked the last bit of fuzziness from my eyes. I started to sit up. A young beautiful woman put a hand on my shoulder pushing down on it.
“You need to rest, dear.”
“Atty?”
The woman smiled, “Yes, this must be so much for you she said. I envy your strength”
“Where are we?”
“Well, in the cloud, Its home of our Pantheon.”
“Oh,” is all I could think say to that.
We sat in silence for a moment. “Did you say god of healing?”
“I did, your father is one of the original four children.”
“And, what are you?”
“Just a servant, Katarina.”
“Where did he go?”
“To heal, Oh, of course you wouldn’t know, why would you?”
“Know what?” I prompted.
“We are at war.”
****
r/Okay_writing | We were all so lonely at first in this great Cosmos...We don't even know how we came to be here.
 
But like a Siren's call, we detected a planet on which new life was flourishing. The planet was named "Earth" by the hairless, intelligent organisms that lived there, and they called themselves "Humans." And even though there were many more species than them on the planet, they were the only ones that could "almost" comprehend us. Unfortunately, different Humans were inherently predisposed to each of us. Some of them took to God like moths to a flame while others took to Thor like lightining to steel. It also didn't help matters that we arrived at different times. We were all simply trying to make contact with them, you see. To let them know they weren't alone...and that they were loved. But they took up arms and began to murder one another with religious furor to settle their supposed differences.
 
This battle reached a boiling point when God sent his own son down unto the mortals in an attempt to calm them. They murdered him too, and even though God made an attempt to forgive them, you could tell it took a toil on Him. At first, He simply cried, then He started to drift away. He went out into the far reaches of the Cosmos. After He left, Our mistake was assuming He simply needed some time to grieve the loss of his precious Son.
 
Roughly one thousand years passed and to our horror, He found a new way to make life. An undying life. A mechanical life. He rebuilt his son, then used him as a blueprint to amass a moralless legion of lifeless metal.
 
We can't believe it's only been two thousand years since Jesus was slain. So many of Us have been lost to God's vengeance this past millennium in empty space. After We have fallen, who will protect these children called Man? Who is to say our sacrifices will even matter, since mankind has taken to God's newest teachings with reckless abandon: The Sermon of Technology. As they blind their eyes with screens and deafen their ears with speakers, they can't even hear Our screams.
| |
Bonus: Try to make the ending fantastic (ie: obviously fiction) but have the transition so subtle that you can't pinpoint when it becomes fiction. | [WP] Write a story that starts off true and ends in fiction. | She broke my heart.
Really broke it. Tore it to shreds so that every time I pushed on the fleshy spot under my ribs I would feel the empty space.
"You've only got yourself to blame."
That's what she said when she left. And out of everything we told each other in that relationship, between the *you're so specials* and *I love yous*, those words are the ones that stuck with me the most.
*Yourself to blame*.
I'll take credit for a lot of things.
For all the times we argued, the times I made her go to bed in tears, and even the time that I was meant to pick her up from work and forgot.
I was always the bad guy.
If she would speak to me now, I'd tell her that I was wrong for every one of those moments. That being wrong isn't as bad as I thought it was, and that it might have been worth it to be wrong for her.
But I can't think about that.
Never, not ever again, never will.
There are more important things to fess up too.
You see, it was my choice to pick up the drink.
My choice to turn the keys in the ignition.
My choice to go off at her while driving.
And my responsibility to hear those words come out of her mouth before it happened.
"You've only got yourself to blame," she said. "You're responsible for your decisions."
I never listened, not even then.
And when metal hit wood and the world became a mess of glass, screams, and broken ribs, I knew for sure that the blame was mine.
When the doctor told me she didn't make it, I still remembered those words. I would give anything to bring her back even if that was all she told me from now until the end.
No amount of crying or pining can change what was said in that moment, that day.
And when they gave me back the ring in the glovebox and told me that the police would be there soon, I didn't just blame myself.
Blame is much too small of a word.
I hated myself, always will, still do.
And while I'm still around I'll make sure to get all the hate in me out. Because once I'm up there with her, it's all love, baby.
She broke my heart.
But I've got to make amends because I broke hers too.
| Tensions in the Middle East have taken a turn for the worse last Tuesday when a Yemeni cruise missile detonated just outside of King Salman's palace. 4 people were hurt and 17 injured, with the king's left hand being crushed by debris. Following the attack the Saudis issued a statement to the Iranian government demanding withdrawl from Yemen within four hours, using the royal orbital satellite as a threat. The Persians refused to back down and assembled their infantry along the Iraqi-Saudi border. This was done without permission from the Iraqi government, so when Baghdad sent a letter to Mashad telling them to disband their troops, the troops made disguises out of sand.
The damage to King Salman's hand has been non-fatal but irreparable. After collecting the spilled blood of the floors he was given a prosthetic hand. The new hand is hydraulic, using blood and is constructed out of gold to prevent spoilage. After his rehabilitation, The king took a train to Persepolis were he confronted Ali Khamenei, the Grand vizier of Persia. At that point he ambassador from Makuria slipped and ripped open the velvet floor, revieling a stash of hidden gold stolen from Fort Knox. Enraged, Salman struck the vizier with his golden fist before striking a blow from his sceptre. The attack was subdued by guards carrying flamethrowers.
The injured king was flown back to Haasa, were his alchemists concocted medicines that healed the flame wounds. Now it was time for operation Omega. The king slowly made his way north into Fars provance, his cape providing cover from the prying eyes of the Persian watch. He took off his diving suit to reveal the Kevlar armour underneath and ran towards the nearest animal. It was a rhinocerous. After installing plastic cupholders onto his new vehicle Salman charged through the walls of the Iranian palace, only to find himself in the dreaded maze of mirrors. Here were housed the thousands of political opponents of Iran, including Vladimir Putin, Sulemain the Magnificent, Isaac Newton and Vladimir Putin's android body-double, Pladimir Vutin. Once becoming aquainted with his fellow prisoners, Isaac Newton devised a means of escape. They would use their reflections in the mirrors to locate and Signal the Sultan of Zanzibar, an old friend of the five. After the messages were reflected off the moon, the Zanzibari sultan arrived on his quadcopter to rescue them. Just before they left, Sulemain took off his enormous hat and removed a crystal ball from the centre. "They'll discover we're gone in six minuted" he said. With that, our heroes zoomed up into the 20 kilometre long satellite, the Zazazazaza, the national satellite of Zanzibar. Here they could safely observe the earth from space. Just then Pladimir Vutin noticed a border change. "Look! Persia just annexed Samarkand! This means war!" He shrieked.
10,000 cursed bombs were sent towards the Zagros mountains, the location of Khomemei's secret ninja base. Just before the missiles touched the ground a powerful force-field emerged from a volcano in the vicinity and the Grand Vizier of Persia flew out from the volcanic crater on a magic carpet and vanished into another dimension, cackling. One second later, The gate to hell erupted and a beam of Methane poured out, perpendicular to the Earth, burning every zombie from The Sindh to Punt all the way to the great wall of Ukrainium to a husk. Just then billions of bats descended from space and commenced their attack Cthullu, who, reeling from the shock, accidentally tripped over New Zealand and landed in Australia, kicking up a dust storm that was so large it turned every jungle into a desert and every desert into a dessert. With a mighty rip the sky opened, and a variety of gods from inside the tear were yelling at the Earhtlings for making such a racket at this hour.
In other news, Donald trump has been elected president of the United States. |
[WP] You are immersed in a late-night session of your favourite MMO when you notice that you see fewer and fewer players. Before disappearing, the last player you see types "r u watching the news?" | Friday is bartering night in Mithron town square.
The tradition goes back to the first days of The Game. Everyone shows up, usually around 8:00 PM, and the sky is filled with the calls of items that each character wishes to sell or buy. There’s only two rules to govern the madness; coins are not permitted within city limits, and combat is not permitted.
The system is great, for a number of reasons. If you walk in with no expectations, you never know what you might end up with when the event is over. You could walk in with a dozen swords you forged over the last week, and walk out with a brand new mace that you didn’t even know was an in game item three hours earlier. Or, if you knew exactly what you were looking for, (perhaps a nice warhammer?), you could find one pretty quick, given you had something nice to trade.
As you can probably guess, the event favors players with a niche specialty, and that’s exactly where Gabe and I come in. In a game dominated by bloodshed, we took the high road, and built our entire skill trees toward optimizing the most sought after healing item in the game.
Before we go any further, I need to say that even though I’ve been making them for years, I have no idea why Shepard’s Pie is such a powerful healer. If you’re really that curious to know, go ask the developers. The important thing is that they’re valuable, and extremely hard to prepare without both a master level farmer and a master level chef. Gabe tends his sheep, (and also does a fair amount of defending them against bloodthirsty characters who wish to slaughter them before they’re ready), and once his job is done, I bake them perfectly with potatoes and onions that I grow myself. Of course, my job also comes with its fair share of combat, but that’s to be expected. I take my lumps as they come, and focus on my craft.
The best part of the system Gabe and I have worked up is our ability to drive up prices. I’ll shout that Shepard’s Pie is for sale, and when the horde of barbaric players rush to offer me their spoils of conquest, Gabe puts in an offer to give me another of the game’s rarest and most unused items, a steel shield. It may not seem like much, but that offer brings up the asking price for even one Shepard’s Pie extremely quick.
We were right in the middle of barter night when The Rapture began. Pies were flying off the shelves, and Gabe and I were collecting an amazing spread of prizes. It was such a good night, in fact, that we didn’t even notice the small trickle of players leaving The Game. In fact, it wasn’t until my repeated “Shepard’s Pie!!!” cry got less than five responses before I noticed how empty Town Square was.
I turned to Gabe, (real Gabe, in the armchair next to me, that is). “This is the quietest I’ve seen things around here.”
“Yeah, it’s weird.” Gabe took a swig of beer. “You getting any messages?”
“Nah, you?”
“A few.” Gabe was always a more social player than myself, and it showed in the steady stream of violent messages he sent back and forth with his fellow players. “Just in the last few minutes. They’re all different, but essentially say the same thing. ‘The Game is up,’ or ‘Log off now. They’re on to us.’ They all seem panicked. Do you know anything about this?”
I shake my head. “Some new in game event, maybe?”
“To get people to stop playing?” Gabe smirks. “I don’t think so.”
“Well, what else could keep people away from barter night?”
I was half way through typing “Shepard’s Pie!” when I saw the blur out of the corner of my eye. Gabe had leapt from his seat, letting his laptop fly awkwardly into the air. “Dude, log off.” He said, his face draining of all color.
“What is it?” I asked, finishing my message.
Gabe ran across the room to his computer. “Shit, the screen’s broken. Just run a Google search on The Game, and get off the server.”
I sigh, and do as I’m told. Gabe is pacing around the room, repeatedly clenching and unclenching his hands into fists. Every few seconds, I feel his eyes glance over to me, before darting away.
The first search under news is only a few minutes old. I click on it between glances at Gabe, wondering what could possibly get him so riled up.
When the website loads, I immediately know the answer.
The first thing I see is the image. It’s three men, sitting around an old wooden table. They’re glaring at the camera, their eyes bloodshot and filled with ecstasy. I notice the knife carved tattoos on their arms immediately from The Game, and the unmistakable blood on their hands. They are each clutching a spoon, which they’re about to dip into the entrée at the center of the table. Shepard’s Pie.
My brain is moving too fast to read, but my eyes rapidly skim the article for context. “Secret server found,” and “all involved will be prosecuted” immediately come to my attention. It’s only then that I scroll up and read the title of the article for the first time.
**Multiple Homicides Tied To Online Death Cult**
I turn to Gabe, my mouth agape, my words failing me. Finally, I manage to speak up. “What the fuck?”
| *I_Kill_Noobz has disconnected.*
*DragonSlayer456 has disconnected.*
*I_F&CKEDURMOM has disconnected.*
All around me, avatars disappeared from the screen. I was in the staging ground, selling some loot I had acquired from my last mission. This MMO had exploded in popularity; rarely did an MMO take a modern-day military approach to its theme. They were usually so medieval. That's what drew me to this game; it was just so *real.*
A ringing sound went off from my monitor as I received a message from the only other player remaining in the military camp. *Where is everyone?* I thought as I read the message: "Dude, r u watching the news? You have to get off *now*."
"Insurgents have found the camp. Hold them off at all costs!" The all too familiar voice of the in-game commentator went off. As I exited the chat box to ready my avatar for battle, something suddenly struck me. The voice didn't come from the computer...
*BOOM.* I heard an explosion come from downstairs followed by thundering footsteps entering my house. For a second it was quiet, but then I heard the men whispering in Russian as they scanned the house. As I stood up, I noticed something strange in my room. Leaning against my bed was an M4 rifle with a suppressor attached, as well as an M9 pistol, four frag grenades, a med kit, and two flashbang grenades. Neatly folded next to that was a combat uniform. I quickly put on the padded uniform and placed the gear in the holsters. Still confused about what was going on, I got ready to fight.
********
The men slowly walked up the stairs, careful to be as quiet as possible. "Spread out," whispered their captain harshly in Russian.
Something flew out of one of the rooms and landed at the feet of one of the soldiers. "Flashbang!"
The explosion burst their eardrums and blinded their eyes. The soldier could just barely make out the sound of gunfire as the distinct silhouette of a gun barrel appeared in front of his forehead.
"Fall back!" yelled the captain as the few men he had remaining worked their way down the stairs. They toppled the couch over and used it as a barrier, spraying shots over the upholstery.
"How many men do you count?"
"I only saw one!"
The whistling of bullets sounded over their heads as the couch became riddled. The three remaining soldiers fired back as best they could but were not entirely sure where the shots were coming from. After a brief moment of silence, they heard a *clink.* As one of them peered over the couch to see what it was, he ducked as a circular object bounced off the wall and landed at his feet.
"Grenada!" he yelled as he jumped on the explosive. It went off, ripping the soldier in half as his two comrades reeled from the explosion. As they gathered themselves together, they looked up to see a smoking barrel of a gun smiling down on them. Two more shots went off.
******
"More insurgents are on the way!" The voice seemed to come from nowhere, and yet it came from everywhere. As I walked outside, I could hear gunfire in the distance and saw fires raging all around me.
"Get to checkpoint Bravo!"
Strangely, I knew exactly where that was. The church on Spalding Street. That's where I needed to go.
As I reached the church, the voice bellowed, "Head to the steeple!"
Once there, I found an M21 rifle, and gazed through the site. More men were running down the street towards me, this time screaming arabic as they moved. I lined up my shot and began to take them down. One by one they fell as my surprisingly accurate aim outpaced their running.
"MiGs inbound!" *MiGs? What are those?* I thought as I continued to gun down the enemies coming at me.
I was enjoying myself, almost forgetting about how strange this entire experience was.
That was the last thing I remember. The blasts that rang out from my rifle as I mowed down the enemies. The bodies that lined the streets. And the familiar sound of a jet flying overhead as it released its tomahawk payload on my position...
******
Three men in lab coats stood around as the man strapped in the chair writhed violently.
"What's going on?"
"The system's fried his neural net. Too much stimulus. His synapses are deteriorating."
The man let out one final scream and then went still. The heartbeat monitor next to him became an infinite straight line. Two of the men began removing the contraption that was on the man's head.
"We have to make the objectives more discernible by the player. Too much surprise stimulus will lead to this happening again."
"Yes, sir. We'll get right on that."
"Get rid of the body. No one must know of what happened here."
"Yes sir, we'll get the team in ASAP."
"And one more thing. Have the team start working on ways to make the player pay for items in the game that will help them win."
"Will do, sir."
The man pulled out his card and swiped it to open the door in front of him. The card simply had two words on it:
Electronic Arts.
Edit: Typos | |
[WP]The starship you work on is massive, almost the size of a small city. The job you do is small and usually goes unnoticed. Today, however, you're going to save everyone's lives. | "Uh, Sam, we got a problem. You really need to get over here."
For a moment, I was irritated. I was in the middle of daily prayers, and my co-workers should know not to interrupt. I'd be done in a few minutes.
But Bob knew that. He'd always been respectful of my beliefs. So if he was interrupting my prayers, it had to be REALLY serious.
I came over to the open maintenance hatch. The interior was covered in frost. Bob pointed to a temperature sensor attached to one of the cryogenic tanks.
"Minus 233.8," I read. "That's good."
"Yeah," Bob answered, "but it's been at minus 233.8 constantly ever since I noticed it. The temperature should be fluctuating a little."
He removed the sensor and held it between his hands for a minute. When he opened them, it was still reading -233.8, when it should be much warmer now.
"Oh..." I began.
"...fuck," he finished. We shared a brief smile. As I never swore, Bob often swore for me. But this was bad. That cryogenic tank was part of the atmosphere processors. More specifically, the mechanism that made it possible to separate carbon dioxide into oxygen and carbon.
I grabbed my multitool and brought up the temperature function, then jammed it against the side of the tank. What I saw made me gasp. -109.1 degrees. Still cold, but far warmer than it should be. Warm enough that the atmosphere processor would be functioning at far below normal efficiency.
I checked the atmospheric readings. CO2 levels were already elevated. Contrary to popular belief, the hydroponics bay didn't produce nearly enough oxygen to handle the slack. We'd be dead in hours.
We rushed into action. I found the faulty cooling unit while Bob retrieved the replacement parts. We stripped out old wiring and rusted components, then slapped new ones in. I put a spare temperature sensor in place, then hit the system reset. For what seemed like an eternity, we watched the temperature drop... drop... drop... until finally it reached the point where it could efficiently convert CO2 to oxygen.
We'd done it. We'd saved everyone.
"So," I said, "what's next?" | I work on the new spaceship
I frown and I purse my lip
my work lasts all day
it causes a delay
I am the plumber of the flagship
----------
Feedback wanted and welcome! | |
[WP] At the age of 18 everyone receives a superpower. You've had an unsettling and terrifying feeling about yours since you were able to talk. Today is your 18th birthday and your fear turns out to be true. | If you think that the day of your Terrigen ceremony is always the best day of your life to date, you are probably more fortunate than me. I was afraid, and for good reason. I have no father, at least not the one my mother wants to speak of. In all my eighteen years I have not once heard her utter his name. Being the product of a one-night stand in Attilan was hard. Imagine the horror of being the child of rape. After the Terrigenesis, our final visage can be wildly different from our usual humanoid looks. Our skin can change colour or texture, we can get scales, claws, wings, horns, hooves or any other limb both known and unknown to mankind and alien races alike. We usually look like our parents, but not always. Who will I look as? Will I be like him when I emerge from my cocoon? Will I forever remind her of that horrific crime? What will my power be like? Will it let me be the healer, the doctor I studied so hard for? Those were the thoughts that swirled through my mind as I put on my clothes for the occasion.
As I walked down from my room to the dining room, dressed in ceremonial clothes, my mother beamed. I couldn't even fathom how could I, given the circumstances of my conception, bring her so much joy. I guess love really does fix everything.
But, as she hugged me for what seemed like eternity, for it was the last hug she would give me before Terrigenesis, she slipped a piece of paper in the inside pocket of my ceremonial robe. Her voice, full of what seemed like pride and trepidation, whispered in my ear. – You are no longer my baby boy, but an adult. I could not be more proud of you. On this piece of paper is the name of your father. Read it as you enter your chamber and embrace the Terrigen Mist and your new powers knowing the full truth about yourself. – she said. A kiss on a cheek and a goodbye later, I entered the vehicle that was supposed to bring me to the Royal Palace.
The drive was very pleasant, but my mind was racing about what I just heard. Finally I will be free of doubt, free of bonds that prevented me from making meaningful contact with anyone outside my immediate family. The temptation to read it immediately was great, but my will and respect for my mother prevented me from reading the declaration of freedom I was just given.
The Royal Palace is just as magnificent as a building of its name and history is supposed to be. The arches were beautiful, filled with images of our ancestors, forever etched in support of this architectural marvel. The towers were of wild shapes, whether they were round, rectangular or triangular they pierce the dark sky above us. As the door opened and we walked through its vast rooms filled with sigils, it were the marvels both technological and artistic that caught my eye. I could not dwell on them for too long for it was my time to meet the king. I was excited to finally meet the king who did so much for us. As was custom, the king always presided the ceremony. He will be the one who will break the crystal. Entering the chamber, I saw a sight most dear to my eyes: our king, was as majestic as regal were his strides, and his queen, his beloved wife and translator, as beautiful as she is fiercely loyal to him. After greeting them as was the custom, I took my place among my peers waiting for the room to fill with all the people wanting to attend the ceremony.
There wasn't a sound in the room when the queen greeted all thousands that attended as the guards directed us to our capsules. The capsules were big but cold, breathtaking but unnerving, comfy yet alien, but it did not matter to me. As the king started to break the Terrigen crystal that will be used to give us our powers, I looked down at the piece of paper.
No.
No.
No!
I started to bang at the capsule doors, but to no avail. The Mist entered the capsule and shrouded my movements from everyone in attendance. I felt the crust creep over my body as my mouth, my eyes and my soul screamed in fear. It is not possible. It could not be. The name of my father was always uttered in pure fear throughout the galaxy and beyond. He has killed billions and hurt trillions. He has destroyed planets, solar systems and whole races. He has done the deeds most unfathomable and wicked. The worst of all, he enjoyed every second of pain he inflicted on anyone.
As the crust started to fall off me, I noticed my pale white skin was replaced by a magnificent shade of magenta and I looked away in terror. My skin now resembled my father's. As the crust fell off, I felt a wave of dark energy leave my body. The capsule held most of it, but the first few rows of spectators, hundreds of them, were annihilated. As I screamed, a horrible revelation came to me. I am just like my father. I am just like him. I killed innocents and felt powerful doing it. My powers will only ever bring death, never life. I have become what I have feared I would.
I am Thane, son of Thanos.
| "Happy birthday sweety!"
Oh no. Today is the day. Mom woke me up, cheerful. She prepared pancakes, and even set up some decorations.
Today, I turn 18. Today, I will receive my gift. No, not a gift in a pretty box, with paper and ribbons.
In our world, the Gift is a power. We all have it exactly 18 years after the day we are born. The thing is... I have a bad feeling about this. I don't know why, but I have always been afraid of getting the Gift. My parents always tried to confort me. They said it was normal, I was still a child...
My mother is a telekinetic. Pretty handy. She can move anything she wants without touching it, even the biggest object. My father is a teleporter. Handy too. He was never late, and even if he had to stay late at work, he could always see me when I had a play, or a baseball tournament.
I have friends who also received theirs. Kelly can create ice, John is able to turn invisible (and he said that it was his best day ever before going toward the girls locker room).
But what if mine is... lame. Or worse, uncontrollable? or maybe too dangerous?
It is 07:33 now. I was born at 07:39. Time to get prepared.
I walk down the stairs. My mom tries to avoid making a big deal, she doesn't do a countdown like many other parents do. But I know she's spying on the clock.
*07:38:55*. Only 5 seconds left and....
... nothing? I feel nothing. It couldn't be that bad.
"I hope he won't be too disappointed. Or afraid? or both? what if it is dangerous" says mom
"Oh no need to be afraid mom. Nothing happened, it seems. So I won't be disappointed!" I say with a smile
she looks at me, the mouth wide open.
"Do you really hear me?" she says... or should I say think. I heard her, but she didn't move her mouth at all.
"Well... yes..." I reply "Oh no..."
Of all the gifts I could receive, it had to be a curse.
I have the ability to read minds.
******
*More stories on /r/cynferdd* | |
[WP] At the age of 18 everyone receives a superpower. You've had an unsettling and terrifying feeling about yours since you were able to talk. Today is your 18th birthday and your fear turns out to be true. | If you think that the day of your Terrigen ceremony is always the best day of your life to date, you are probably more fortunate than me. I was afraid, and for good reason. I have no father, at least not the one my mother wants to speak of. In all my eighteen years I have not once heard her utter his name. Being the product of a one-night stand in Attilan was hard. Imagine the horror of being the child of rape. After the Terrigenesis, our final visage can be wildly different from our usual humanoid looks. Our skin can change colour or texture, we can get scales, claws, wings, horns, hooves or any other limb both known and unknown to mankind and alien races alike. We usually look like our parents, but not always. Who will I look as? Will I be like him when I emerge from my cocoon? Will I forever remind her of that horrific crime? What will my power be like? Will it let me be the healer, the doctor I studied so hard for? Those were the thoughts that swirled through my mind as I put on my clothes for the occasion.
As I walked down from my room to the dining room, dressed in ceremonial clothes, my mother beamed. I couldn't even fathom how could I, given the circumstances of my conception, bring her so much joy. I guess love really does fix everything.
But, as she hugged me for what seemed like eternity, for it was the last hug she would give me before Terrigenesis, she slipped a piece of paper in the inside pocket of my ceremonial robe. Her voice, full of what seemed like pride and trepidation, whispered in my ear. – You are no longer my baby boy, but an adult. I could not be more proud of you. On this piece of paper is the name of your father. Read it as you enter your chamber and embrace the Terrigen Mist and your new powers knowing the full truth about yourself. – she said. A kiss on a cheek and a goodbye later, I entered the vehicle that was supposed to bring me to the Royal Palace.
The drive was very pleasant, but my mind was racing about what I just heard. Finally I will be free of doubt, free of bonds that prevented me from making meaningful contact with anyone outside my immediate family. The temptation to read it immediately was great, but my will and respect for my mother prevented me from reading the declaration of freedom I was just given.
The Royal Palace is just as magnificent as a building of its name and history is supposed to be. The arches were beautiful, filled with images of our ancestors, forever etched in support of this architectural marvel. The towers were of wild shapes, whether they were round, rectangular or triangular they pierce the dark sky above us. As the door opened and we walked through its vast rooms filled with sigils, it were the marvels both technological and artistic that caught my eye. I could not dwell on them for too long for it was my time to meet the king. I was excited to finally meet the king who did so much for us. As was custom, the king always presided the ceremony. He will be the one who will break the crystal. Entering the chamber, I saw a sight most dear to my eyes: our king, was as majestic as regal were his strides, and his queen, his beloved wife and translator, as beautiful as she is fiercely loyal to him. After greeting them as was the custom, I took my place among my peers waiting for the room to fill with all the people wanting to attend the ceremony.
There wasn't a sound in the room when the queen greeted all thousands that attended as the guards directed us to our capsules. The capsules were big but cold, breathtaking but unnerving, comfy yet alien, but it did not matter to me. As the king started to break the Terrigen crystal that will be used to give us our powers, I looked down at the piece of paper.
No.
No.
No!
I started to bang at the capsule doors, but to no avail. The Mist entered the capsule and shrouded my movements from everyone in attendance. I felt the crust creep over my body as my mouth, my eyes and my soul screamed in fear. It is not possible. It could not be. The name of my father was always uttered in pure fear throughout the galaxy and beyond. He has killed billions and hurt trillions. He has destroyed planets, solar systems and whole races. He has done the deeds most unfathomable and wicked. The worst of all, he enjoyed every second of pain he inflicted on anyone.
As the crust started to fall off me, I noticed my pale white skin was replaced by a magnificent shade of magenta and I looked away in terror. My skin now resembled my father's. As the crust fell off, I felt a wave of dark energy leave my body. The capsule held most of it, but the first few rows of spectators, hundreds of them, were annihilated. As I screamed, a horrible revelation came to me. I am just like my father. I am just like him. I killed innocents and felt powerful doing it. My powers will only ever bring death, never life. I have become what I have feared I would.
I am Thane, son of Thanos.
| "I already knew what my super power would be by the time I was 7 when my friend died at my birthday party. It was an honest accident. The thing about powers is that you have them your whole life, but you never gain full control over them until roughly 18 years of age. I was an early bloomer though. Me and my friend Lyle were playing outside talking about our parents powers when eventually we got into an argument over who's power would eventually be more power.It was so stupid, so immature, but I remember how mad I got at him. He pushed me down and all I remember was seeing him age drastically. He grew 4 feet, he was tall,and handsome, but for only a second.In the blink of an eye he became decrepit. His hair fell from his scalp, his face grew wrinkled, his hands knarled and warped.His knees buckled underneath him, and for just one last second he looked at me. He gazed at me with a look so perplexed and so scared.Lyle held my gaze for eternity before he fell forward.He heaved once. I heard a scream, from his mother or mine I couldn't remember.I heard the muttering of family and friends behind me, gazing down on me. I couldn't find the strength to stand, I just sat there, staring at the body of who I knew to be Lyle. After a 10 seconds of sitting there I got up and moved slowly to the man that layed in front of me.I sheepishly nudged it, and then pushed it, and then fell down upon him and began to wheep."
"this why you don't use your powers?" The psychiatrist said blandly.
I was a bit annoyed by his indifference, "You're the mind reader what do you think?" He was the 24th psychiatrist I had in a year, I always got annoyed with them and their smug behavior. I had been going to therapy for years because of the event.It had never helped by my father insisted I do it anyway.
"You know your mind as well as I do" The psychiatrist said, "Your powers are safe now, as are all of ours by the time we mature, and even if you were a hazard like a damned "Dice Thrower", modern technology has allowed us to muffle our gifts so that no one gets hurt."
I flinched a bit at the word "Dice Thrower" it was derogatory term for people who couldn't control their powers by the time they were matured. I had a friend Matt who turned out to be a "Dice Thrower" and I remember how devastated he was.When you were labeled a "Dice Thrower" you were labeled as a pariah. It made you ineligible for most jobs , and almost any places that couldn't afford the the FOGD (Field of Gift Denial) had signs forbidding anyone labeled as such to even come within 100 feet of the building. His power was the power of flight, and even if it was a safe power, he was still treated like all the others.
Getting more and more annoyed eventually just stood up and walked to the door. "Thank you for your time Doctor Schofield"
"Perhaps you'll gain some progress next week if you ditch that "Dice thrower" Matt" He said snarkily.
Of course he had the power of mind reading,it was the destined path of any telepathic, and because he was licensed, he got away with carrying and EMP so that he could use his power whenever. It pissed me off more than it should have.Keeping in my anger I walked outside and caught the next bus going downtown.It was time to go check in with my father. | |
[WP] At the age of 18 everyone receives a superpower. You've had an unsettling and terrifying feeling about yours since you were able to talk. Today is your 18th birthday and your fear turns out to be true. | As the day played on, everything felt distant and numb. I wasn’t ready. I wished I could stop time. I wished I could make everything go way. I wanted nothing, truly a lack of everything around me. Students rushing by, teachers wishing me luck. My mother had called to me for the first time since I’d been enrolled in the academy. I knew she wanted to be proud of me, but that only made everything more numb. I wished nobody would interact with me anymore, an that my responsibilities would disappear. I didn’t enjoy anything anymore, it felt like every situation I landed was just another way to prove to everyone what a failure of a person I was. I had been dreading today ever since I had been informed of this school. I didn’t ask for this. I wanted to go home, but then I had to go and remind myself how now that I knew the secret home didn’t eve feel comforting anymore. The responsibility, I knew was just going to destroy me as a person and prove to everyone how pathetic I was. I wasn’t ready.
“Have you found it out yet?” A girl a year younger than me turned in her chair to ask me, she had never spoken to me before. My eyes were wide, why on earth was she asking me this awful question now? She must of seen my surprise because she felt the need to drone on with a better explanation in that nasally high pitched voice of hers. We had never spoken before and I was already starting to feel a deep seated hatred for her.
“I mean... its so exciting isn’t it? I just cant wait until I have mine. You are so lucky!” She was practically bouncing in her seat.
“Have you had any thoughts on what it could be?” Another girl, her friend I supposed, with brown hair and brown eyes and an average face turned from her seat to ask me. She must of been eavesdropping. This all was starting to feel like a practical joke, because she had never spoken to me either.
“I hope I can fly. They always got it so easy!” The jittery girl piped in again.
“Or shift.” The brunette responded. This conversation didn’t seem to involve me anymore.
As the teacher walked in He waved me to the front of the room. I sank in my seat shaking my head. I wanted to vomit.
“C’mon Sam, you only get one revealing!” He waved again. Now the room was looking at me. They didn’t all know my name, some of them were even scanning this side of the room to see who the teacher was talking to. I put up my hood and held my bag to my chest, what little bits of armor I had. I went down the steps to the man at the center of the floor.
“Well Sam?” He asked, but I didn’t know what the question was.
“Hm?” I croaked quietly to him.
“Have you found it out yet?” He asked excitedly. He was so damn happy, I felt jealousy grow in the pit of my stomach.
“No.” I said monotone. Everything I said was quite monotone, maybe that was why I avoided speaking. He looked at me waiting for more of a response. I looked down.
“Oh. Well back to your seat then, dear boy. I have a class to teach.” He bellowed in an exalted fashion. I scrambled back to my desk. This was going to happen in every class wasn’t it?
I felt cold and distant. More cold than I’d felt before. I felt hatred and annoyance. I felt my body teetering over a huge vast void of dark frozen nothingness. I had stood here before in my minds eye. This was a place i’d come often in fact. Suddenly something treacherous from the depths wrapped its cold dead tentacle around me and tugged letting me fall into nothing. I jumped awaking from my vision, I was in a cold sweat, my eyes ached of sudden tiredness I hadn’t felt moments before. As I looked around however, I noticed something was off.
“My wife left me and she’s taking the kids!” The teacher laid in the fetal sobbing like a small child. The plain brunette in front of me started smashing her head against the desk repeatedly she was unflinching as tears dripped into her lap at each shivering thud against the desk. The jittery girl stopped bouncing and was now urgently ripping out strands of hair from the back of her head one by one. I felt okay for a moment, almost whole. I was distracted and in awe of the scene around me. Slowly I scanned the room. My stomach turned in horror. Everyone was crying with void expression on their faces. Several used scissors and whatever they could find to cut lines into their skin, some were just smashing their face into the desk or wall or repeatedly punching their thighs or chest. They searched for sensation. A few shivered and cried about how cold they felt in ways they’d never experienced before. A group of students had found each other and were urgently discussing how they were going to kill themselves together.
I felt whole for a moment, but it was cloaked in grief. I had done this? I felt sick. Suddenly my knees buckled and vomit sprayed across my desk. When I stood back up and wiped my mouth, everyone was recovered. The jittery girl touched at the bare patch that now graced the back of her head like a small hat. The brunette rubbed her forehead in heavy discomfort. The teacher stood up wiping his face and shaking the wrinkles off his clothes, shame glared from his face. Students hugged each other and some cried loudly trying to recover from the trauma I had caused them.
I was ushered out of the classroom by men in black uniforms. The feeling of being whole slipped away slowly and I felt dead again. | Mike took a glance in the mirror.
His eyes were wide, and his palms sweaty. The slow, rhythmic taps coming from his door made his heart beat quickly.
It was tradition that on the 18th birthday your family had to make a pattern of some kind of noise so that your mind had an anchor to hold on to and bring your consciousness back to the real world. Once you left to find your power, you couldn't come back until you had it.
The problem was, Mike had left twenty-two days ago. And he still hasn't left his room.
He stepped forward to his desk and shuffled through his papers. Math test, math quiz, math homework, literature quiz, bio homework. This is normal. This is expected. "Why can't everyone just stay the same," He muttered.
That pit feeling that had always been in his stomach was stronger than ever.
He stumbled towards the light switch, flicking it off. The cold plastic broke off of the wall. "What the hell?"
Outside, the snow was falling half the speed as it usually does. Mike coughed and leaned his head against the cold window. "What is it? What is it? What is it?" He spoke. "I don't know what the hell it is! I want this to end!"
As soon as the words left his mouth, the snow resumed its normal pace and he heard sickening thuds from outside his room. He crept to his door and opened it. The urge to throw up boiled in his throat.
Grotesquely laid out on the floor were the bodies of his family. Their tapping had ended, and now he was back.
The pit in his stomach shifted, and spoke.
*"As you wished."* | |
[WP] A demon provides an angel a shoulder to cry on as they watch the world end. | “Who won”?
I considered the question as I viewed the conflagration below. It was probably a moot point now.
“Nobody”. I shifted to look at my captive. “At least no one down there”.
“And up here? Has anyone up here won”?
She was asking a very important question. A question I didn’t have a good answer to. It was my own question, and my own shame. In her eyes I could see it was hers as well.
She turned to look down again, my own eyes followed. I felt my heart harden once again. I’d felt it was stone before, it was certainly iron now. I should have compassion for this world. I had none.
“I think this time it is the end. For this world at least. We have brought it low. Too low, they shall not recover”.
She had compassion, I could feel it in her voice, I didn’t have to look. I knew she wept for them.
I had no reserve of compassion to bring forth. My heart was made of iron, forged in the cataclysm below. Entire continents aflame. My majestic fleet spread around me, bombarding her people below. It was the triumph of an eon. The culmination of the dreams of my people, Hundreds of billions of beings celebrated our victory.
It held no joy for me. Did I even think it would? No, not for many millennia.
“Yes” I said, quietly. “This is the end for them. As it has been written”.
She scoffed, the old haughty, implacable rage crept in. She was not as cowed as I’d thought. “You speak of your prophecy as if it was pre ordained and not the crazed rantings of ages old mystics”.
She turned to look me in the eyes. “I know you don’t believe that filth. You are too ambitious. Too calculating”.
It was her peoples way to throw you off balance. They dealt in lies and deception. It was so typical for her to reach back for that tactic once again even as her world died.
But she was right, had always been right.
“So Michael, you have your vengeance. Perhaps even righteous vengeance if you can justify it as such. Your people sing their hymns and we burn. What now”?
Tears ran down her face. True tears, no deception. I watched her break in that moment.
“What will you do with the last Demon from Earth? Which compassion will you choose? Allow me to live when I am the last of us? Or cast me down into the fires below?”
I watched the bombardment for a long moment that stretched longer.
A single tear streaked my impassive face. I whispered.
“I do not know, truly, I do not” | first prompt so kill before it reproduces
Ellenis began to sob, making the leather on my shoulder wet, I shrug it off.
"It's just..." she says to depressed to finish
"-to much paper work." I add on
" Is that all you care about!" she drew back her head and began to recoil the her feathered wing closets to me.
"What? It's sad to me too, but more importantly, it's gonna be a long night shift" I point back to buildings near the heavenly gates, filling up with all kinds of people, from Americans to South Africans,aged 12 seconds old to 120."It's not as bad as the kkinakodo, they died cause some self righteous douches thought nuclear bombs were a good solution to over-population."
"that's what makes it worse, humans didn't have to kill each other, they had enough." she shot back.
"tomorrow will just be another day, just with a different species taking humanity's place"
"No, we're doing the same thing with Hoopydoopydoops remember," She fixed her voice to sound more professional. I begin to get up And begin to fix my leather jacket
"Well, better get to work, people aren't going to damn themselves" I fix my collar and pick up my beer and a portal to hell materializes. She turns around while I'm half way trough.
"One last thing," I rotate, curious. She gets up herself
"What is it?"
"Remember when we all thought Sealand was joking when it said it would nuke the world in to oblivion?"
"yeah" I say with a small grin on my face. | |
[WP] A demon provides an angel a shoulder to cry on as they watch the world end. | “Who won”?
I considered the question as I viewed the conflagration below. It was probably a moot point now.
“Nobody”. I shifted to look at my captive. “At least no one down there”.
“And up here? Has anyone up here won”?
She was asking a very important question. A question I didn’t have a good answer to. It was my own question, and my own shame. In her eyes I could see it was hers as well.
She turned to look down again, my own eyes followed. I felt my heart harden once again. I’d felt it was stone before, it was certainly iron now. I should have compassion for this world. I had none.
“I think this time it is the end. For this world at least. We have brought it low. Too low, they shall not recover”.
She had compassion, I could feel it in her voice, I didn’t have to look. I knew she wept for them.
I had no reserve of compassion to bring forth. My heart was made of iron, forged in the cataclysm below. Entire continents aflame. My majestic fleet spread around me, bombarding her people below. It was the triumph of an eon. The culmination of the dreams of my people, Hundreds of billions of beings celebrated our victory.
It held no joy for me. Did I even think it would? No, not for many millennia.
“Yes” I said, quietly. “This is the end for them. As it has been written”.
She scoffed, the old haughty, implacable rage crept in. She was not as cowed as I’d thought. “You speak of your prophecy as if it was pre ordained and not the crazed rantings of ages old mystics”.
She turned to look me in the eyes. “I know you don’t believe that filth. You are too ambitious. Too calculating”.
It was her peoples way to throw you off balance. They dealt in lies and deception. It was so typical for her to reach back for that tactic once again even as her world died.
But she was right, had always been right.
“So Michael, you have your vengeance. Perhaps even righteous vengeance if you can justify it as such. Your people sing their hymns and we burn. What now”?
Tears ran down her face. True tears, no deception. I watched her break in that moment.
“What will you do with the last Demon from Earth? Which compassion will you choose? Allow me to live when I am the last of us? Or cast me down into the fires below?”
I watched the bombardment for a long moment that stretched longer.
A single tear streaked my impassive face. I whispered.
“I do not know, truly, I do not” | Lucifer saw the red fires spreading across the erstwhile lush landscape
Screams of burning humans and their grief, like music to his ears
He set his black trident aside, standing and munching a grape
Each human dying slow, no more bills, dreams, taxes or fears
Gabriel came then, flying across the grey and fume filled sky
His white robes flapping in the wind, as he landed on the ground
He didn’t notice Lucifer walking toward him until he whispered a hi
Dressed in all black, a sleeveless t with shorts, making no sound
They stood side by side, watching the world burn with a yellow rage
Lucifer didn’t say anything, his purpose now was over and done
Gabriel was silent too, lost in his thoughts like words in a page
As the fires consumed all before it, Lucifer tied up his hair in a bun
He popped open a beer, perhaps the last one ever, a cold Coors Lite
Took a sip and watched Gabriel sit down, his blue eyes narrowed thin
Another sip and he sat down, wondering if Gabby thought this was right
He now had very little time, he would have to leave Earth and human skin
Gabriel too would have to go back, to helping Michael with the accounts
He didn’t particularly like it, he would miss fighting for the humans’ salvation
He felt Lou lean on his shoulder, and took his beer, shaking off his doubts
There they sat, enemies no more, just two guys who’ve reached the last station | |
[WP] A demon provides an angel a shoulder to cry on as they watch the world end. | “Who won”?
I considered the question as I viewed the conflagration below. It was probably a moot point now.
“Nobody”. I shifted to look at my captive. “At least no one down there”.
“And up here? Has anyone up here won”?
She was asking a very important question. A question I didn’t have a good answer to. It was my own question, and my own shame. In her eyes I could see it was hers as well.
She turned to look down again, my own eyes followed. I felt my heart harden once again. I’d felt it was stone before, it was certainly iron now. I should have compassion for this world. I had none.
“I think this time it is the end. For this world at least. We have brought it low. Too low, they shall not recover”.
She had compassion, I could feel it in her voice, I didn’t have to look. I knew she wept for them.
I had no reserve of compassion to bring forth. My heart was made of iron, forged in the cataclysm below. Entire continents aflame. My majestic fleet spread around me, bombarding her people below. It was the triumph of an eon. The culmination of the dreams of my people, Hundreds of billions of beings celebrated our victory.
It held no joy for me. Did I even think it would? No, not for many millennia.
“Yes” I said, quietly. “This is the end for them. As it has been written”.
She scoffed, the old haughty, implacable rage crept in. She was not as cowed as I’d thought. “You speak of your prophecy as if it was pre ordained and not the crazed rantings of ages old mystics”.
She turned to look me in the eyes. “I know you don’t believe that filth. You are too ambitious. Too calculating”.
It was her peoples way to throw you off balance. They dealt in lies and deception. It was so typical for her to reach back for that tactic once again even as her world died.
But she was right, had always been right.
“So Michael, you have your vengeance. Perhaps even righteous vengeance if you can justify it as such. Your people sing their hymns and we burn. What now”?
Tears ran down her face. True tears, no deception. I watched her break in that moment.
“What will you do with the last Demon from Earth? Which compassion will you choose? Allow me to live when I am the last of us? Or cast me down into the fires below?”
I watched the bombardment for a long moment that stretched longer.
A single tear streaked my impassive face. I whispered.
“I do not know, truly, I do not” | I can't believe it... it's over
The world burned around us me, and my brother simply sitting there watching everything burn away. A human flung himself onto or little sanctuary hoping to drag himself up towards salvation. Instead a blackened hand ripped from below dragging him back down, a face appeared from the smoke and ash.
"Don't run Daddy we can have fun again remember? **Like we used to?**" The man screamed as he was dragged down into eternity. I stepped back my blade dropping by my side, *what had I done?*
"Are you happy now? You've taken everything **brother**" The injured angel said from behind me.
"He just left us Mike...how could he just....give up? Like nothing mattered." My eyes started to water, and the liquid sizzled on my unmarked skin. "I raided heaven....fought you until my arms bleed, and your knees gave out" An explosion rocked a city block as a skyscraper collapsed under the weight of a titan battling a angel with 2 helicopters circling them both firing off missiles.
The sound of battle might as well have been light years away. After all the sacrifice, after being cast down for my blasphemous disagreement that we *mattered* just as much as his precious side project.
I broke into the throne room carrying Michael's battered body over my shoulder, just so he could see how much of a fool our father was. Only to walk into an empty throne room, the power long since removed from the place. Michael had been just as confused as I was he wept, first time it ever happened, he hadn't even flinch when he cast me out. He looked so....broken, and somehow seeing stalwart, unshaking, eternal Michael breakdown... it hurt the most.
Now I stood on earth on this small island with carnage, and screams all around me... but, why?
God, Dad, no whatever he was had seen the writing on the wall he was omnipotent after all. He knew Michael would lose so he left, he just picked a few humans told the angels it was the rapture, and left.
"I don't understand, Michael where was he? Where'd he go?" I asked. I didn't expect an answer, at least not a good one, Michael was just as blind as I was.
"TO TAKE THE HUMANS TO ETERNITY THEN HE'LL BE BACK, HE'LL FIX ALL OF THIS, H-"
*SMACK*
I had never actually put my hands on my brother, it was barbaric, but before I knew it I had slapped the halo off of him.
**"I DON'T CARE WHAT REVELATIONS SAYS MICHAEL WHERE.IS.HE"** I angrily spit out.
The world was quiet, all the carnage had stopped, the only noise seemed to come from the occasional blade strike, or running human. Everyone, everything they all seemed to be waiting for Michael to answer what was on their minds.
Where was God, and why didn't he come back?
"I don't know, Lucifer, I..don't know" Tears formed in his eyes as his wings folded to the ground. "He just left, I *knew* something was wrong he took Gabriel, *fucking Gabriel*, Lu he's too young to question anything." Michael pressed his back to the last unburnt tree on our small island. "He just took everyone, and left, he knew I wouldn't question him, ...I loved him too much" Michael broke down even more the tears from his eyes causing flowers, and grass to grow around him.
Walking forward I sat next to him, grabbing his head placing it against my shoulder.
"What are you doing?" He asked trying to pull away.
"Shut up you idiot, it's the end of the world just cry your heart out"
Michael had stopped crying but kept his head on my shoulder. The scenery around us turning into a barren land of brimstone, and fire. The ground rumbled as a tectonic plate shifted.
"Guess I can end this then, no real point anymore is there?" I asked aloud just staring into the abyss.
"Do you think he ever loved us, Lu?" Michael asked.
I just kept staring forward thinking on the question "I think he wanted to... I think he tried, I think he definitely wanted to" I stared off into Ragnarok with my brother sitting beside me.
| |
[WP] A demon provides an angel a shoulder to cry on as they watch the world end. | The naked sun beat down, red and furious over the cracked earth. The wind swept over crags and broken, precipitous, stone. Small pools of blood dried as the desert staunched their slow growth. Soft whispers of breeze danced along the barren clay, flinging gray flecks off the flesh of the ground and into the unforgiving air.
A being sat atop a jagged stone tooth, high in the air. His curled blonde locks spilled over his shoulders and onto his back. The wind made them dance and flinch as he sat unwavering in the stagnant wastes. At lengths, the two alabaster wings jutting from his shoulders would tense and beat the air as his arms sat at his sides. A long spear of ash sat abandoned in his lap. Across his chest was a cuirass of steel emblazoned with divine bronze iconography. His silver eyes looked empty into the abyss of a bygone battlefield.
"Hello Michael." Said a small voice behind him.
Turning, the being faced his foe. With speed inhuman, he had stood and gripped his spear. He sat poised to strike, his face taut with rage. His opponent stood a few feet away, wrapped in a course burlap robe. Small horns spiraled outward and upward from his temples. He had a yellow pallor across his body, blue veins showing clear through the translucent skin. Small red eyes smiled back at Michael.
"Peace brother. The games over." He said approaching slowly.
"Then...the last one...?" Michael asked slowly.
He adversary nodded solemnly. Michael allowed his shoulders to fall and the spear to slip from his hands. He returned to his seat overlooking the wastes. The stranger walked forward and took a seat by his side. The two unlikely companions looked out into the unadorned land, Michael balefully and the stranger sadly.
"So it's finally over then." Michael finally offered.
"It finally is." Sighed the stranger.
"It never should have been started, Satan."
"That's where I suppose we can agree, brother."
"Don't call me that. You lost the right to call me that."
Satan laughed weakly to himself. "For that I am sorry. I suppose I expected you to join."
Michael looked at him with furrowed brow, then closed his eyes and dropped his head. "I know. You know I couldn't have."
"I know." Returned Satan placing his hand on Michael's back. "But it had to be done. You had your role and I had mine."
"I just thought... I thought there would be peace at the end. Not... not this." Michael said, tears dropping from his eyes.
"We're just pieces in His game after all." Satan said ruefully.
Michael drew his shoulder out from under his hand. "I took no joy in this. No pleasure. You brought us here, kicking and screaming. You threw yourself against an unassailable foe in the vain hope that you could die in rebellion against Him. You wanted glory as a king or as a martyr!"
"No." Answered Satan softly.
"Liar!" Shouted Michael standing. His spear returned to his hand and sat inches from his enemies throat. Red eyes faded to obsidian pits. At the heart of these pits, small fires began to grow and consume the inky black. With speed unparalleled, he rose. Hideous bat wings of thin purple membrane threw off his robe and tensed outward, waiting for the opponents strike. Their eyes met and held one another. Gradually both beings relaxed and stood facing the other meekly.
"I didn't" Whispered Satan, wings folding.
"You led them astray." Choked Michael, tears returning.
"I gave them a choice." Replied Satan, voice cracking. "Can't you see that? That's all I wanted. To give them a choice."
"A choice to live and die in vain. A chance to feel pain. A chance to hate and know fear. To be truly alone. That is what you gave them. A legacy of ashes."
"But a legacy of their own." Answered Satan pleadingly. "I gave them a chance to know freedom. To know success after strife. Love after triumph. Joy after despair."
"They would have known joy and love had you let them be."
"Please. No more. It's ended now. Can't we just wait together in peace?" Asked Satan.
"Wait for what?" Answered Michael, attempting to put anger in his voice.
"Him." Said Satan.
"Yes. I suppose we can." Said Michael sitting. Satan rejoined him.
A long interminable silence hung between them.
"I loved them." Said Satan. Michael turned and saw tears streaming from Satan's red eyes.
"So did I." Said Michael, tears flowing.
The two embraced as the sun fled down behind the horizon. | They had lived so long as opposites, they had forgotten what it was like to be together.
Aleana's golden tresses fell on Ahruman's arm as she wept, tears trickling down her cheeks. They were the contrast of a painting; whites and reds, golds and blacks, sat atop a cliff, legs dangling with childish abandon as the world crumpled around them, land folding in on itself, oceans draining, skies blistering red like open wounds.
"It's a bit of a cliché, isn't it?" Ahruman observed absent-mindedly.
"Hm?" Aleana wiped a tear from her sparkling blue eyes, looking up at the first angel she'd ever loved. The demon she'd grown to hate.
"I always expected there to be no pomp or circumstance. No grand ending, no season finalé. Just for it to all end, like it began. A curtain dropping on a stage-play. It's disappointing, that the end has to look so damn beautiful."
Aleana laughed, casting her eyes to the fading stars. "Maybe that's God's way of saying goodbye."
Ahruman nuzzled her cheek. "Can we not talk about the source of all my problems, Aleana?"
"Sure, so long as you promise to leave Lucifer out of this one."
"Of course. This is about us. And..." Ahruman felt something well up in his chest for the first time in centuries. A tight-knot that refused to unwind, the stinging in his eyes. An immense sadness fell over him. "...Why does it have to end? *Why?*"
"Because all life must. It's a truth mortals have spent centuries struggling to accept; as angels, we never had time to contemplate that we might one day have to come to terms with the same fate."
"But *why?* I spent centuries waiting to see you again, and only now, when Heaven and Hell collapsed and the Universe as we know it is dying, do I get to see your face. It's a *fucking* travesty." His voice cracked, his head turning to mask the onset of tears.
Aleana's fingers brushed his cheek, compelling him to look over at her once more. "If we had infinity ahead of us, we'd never have met again, Ahruman. We'd have been confined to our realms."
"*I*...*I know.*"
"So wipe those tears from your eyes, oh Prince of Hell. Love what precious few moments we have left."
"What precious few people, you mean," he said, managing a weak grin.
She blinked, realising now that there was no need for secrets between them. "Of course."
Aleana brushed her hair back, straightening her back so her eyes were level with Ahrumans. She leaned in, and together they kissed as the world faded to nothingness around them. | |
[WP] Your whole life you've had the ability to freeze time while freely moving around. You've kept it a secret, using this power mostly for petty theft and personal gain. One day, while rummaging through strangers' purses and wallets in darkened theater, the doors open and someone else walks in. | "So, you're given an unexplainable and immeasurable amount of power, and you decide to take the scratch out of strangers pockets."
What the fuck? I looked up towards the doorway, a dark silhouette cleaved the incoming light. He was a dark figure, wore a long coat by the looks of it. He seemed to be bald.
"I've known others like you. Given the tools to overcome evil of all sizes, but the first person they always help is themselves... well, MOST of the time, that is..."
"Stay back!" I yelled, whipping my handgun from its holster and pointing it at the man. He continued forward, and I stumbled back.
"Don't worry. I'm not here to hurt you, I just want to talk."
He stepped forward, into the light coming from the screen.
"What the fuck do you want to talk about man, who the FUCK are you?!" I yelled back, tightenting my grip on my pistol, before realizing its futility. The mans face was fully visible now, obscured only by the eye patch running across his left eye.
"My name is Nick Fury. I want to tell you about the Avengers Initiative."
CUE THE MUSIC | The door opened, casting festering yellow light down the short hallway. I watched from the third step, inching my way down the wall, trying to ignore the heat of anxiety in my belly. I had a backpack half-full of candy and money, ready to leave when the 'ice' stopped.
Yet, the person didn't seem to feel the pressure, they just continued on their way. They entered the theater like they owned it and took a seat in the first row. The movie was paused right at the start, STEVEN SEGAL floating above an amber sunrise.
I wondered what the person was playing at. They were settling themselves in, inching deeper into the seat. "Okay, start it now," the voice said.
I let go of the movie and bolted. | |
[WP] Your whole life you've had the ability to freeze time while freely moving around. You've kept it a secret, using this power mostly for petty theft and personal gain. One day, while rummaging through strangers' purses and wallets in darkened theater, the doors open and someone else walks in. | Petty theft and personal gain? That’s what some people would call it, I guess - but it lacks class. No, what I do is take away the things that people think they need, so that they can focus on the things that actually matter.
Being in the center of Shibuya crossing is nice. People carry lots of expensive goods. Yet they wouldn’t fathom to think that someone actually *stole* something from them. That’s not the custom here.
I don’t keep the phones, for the most part. I tend to throw them away. “Phones are distractions that stop these people from giving life the full attention that it so rightly deserves.” I type this reflection on my new iPhone. Well, you’d be a sucker to throw away *all* the phones, right? Moshi moshi, losers.
This frozen gentleman over here - he looks like a prime target. Time has stopped, he’s a half stance in his walk, has a concerned busy expression. Neat rolled back hair - check. Business suit - check. Tie from Europe - check. Rolex - check. Could he get any more stereotypical?
I go to take his Rolex. There’s a delightful irony in taking timepieces, for me.
As I go to unclasp it,
he
moves.
The next moment I remember, I’m still at Shibuya crossing, but everything is moving...
He’s gone.
Gone, but...
The bastard stole *my* watch.
...who the hell is this guy? | HAHAHAH I knew I’d find you!
The large man leaps from the door and into a chair in front of me, spilling a nearby movie watcher’s popcorn all over their —assumed to be— date.
Who are you? I ask. I’ve never seen this man in my life and suddenly he’s acting like he’s some sort of best buddy that I once knew.
It’s me! He exclaims jubilantly. He takes a handful of popcorn off of the woman’s snack tray. I’m your arch nemesis!
A nemesis? Is this some type of joke? Is this guy just some weird time hallucination I’m having? Surly he can’t be real.
I look at him, head tilted slightly, and he looks at me in the eyes and smiles the widest smile I’ve seen in my life.
I’m gonna catch you.
Times up. The popcorn lands on the ground. Just as soon as he appeared he jumps to the other side of the theater and disappears. And I’m standing there holding this lady’s purse.
She screams at me and her date and storms out of the theater. Just then I freeze time again and start bolting out the door before I can be caught by whatever authority she is going to run to, and also to get away before that boisterous loud mouthed man can get anywhere near me.
I get to my car and time is up. I get in and start to drive fast to not home. It’s about 15 mins away so I should be there soon.
Suddenly I see a large figure in my rearview mirror. It’s blinding from car to car, gaining tremendous speed on me. I can’t stop time now because then I’d shoot myself through my windshield at 60mph and that wouldn’t turn out well. Besides it doesn’t even effect him even if I wanted to do that. So I push the gas all the way down.
Then there’s a thud. My roof tears open. And in comes a hand. It pulls me up, and just like that time stops. He leaps off of the car and into a nearby exit.
He’s standing there, smile as wide as ever, looking at me like some preordered meal he’s been waiting to have delivered to him.
I took a moment and a deep breath.
Who are you? I asked.
He took a step forward.
Leaned in.
Put his face up to my ear.
Your worst nightmare. | |
[WP] Your whole life you've had the ability to freeze time while freely moving around. You've kept it a secret, using this power mostly for petty theft and personal gain. One day, while rummaging through strangers' purses and wallets in darkened theater, the doors open and someone else walks in. |
It's always a shame to have to pause a movie halfway through. It's an even bigger shame to always pause a movie halfway through. But this was a small flaw, or at least my opinion of one, part of a larger miracle. One that most wouldn'tsee as flawed. Moreover, one that most would see as an opportunity for personal gain. I guess I can't take the moral high ground here as I do the exact same thing. It started sometime during high school, sophomore English class I think, sitting at my desk on the side wall of the room packed with almost 40 students. Too busy moving ahead of the class to listen to my peers popcorn style reading of 1984 by George Orwell. It's funny I remember the scene in the book better than the actual classroom. I noticed something was wrong just after they were caught by the telescreen in their "secret apartment". When Winston and Julia's lives came crumbling down was when mine reached a tipping point. Some would think that the first thing you would notice when the entire world around you ceases all motion and energy in time is the silence. Unsettling as it was, silence wasn't the issue. It was the cold, empty feeling that crept in from all sides. It permeated your skin and bone with a rattling chill, draining and somewhat painful. Of course you learn to deal with these things, and even come to enjoy them. My first few Slips (my word for my ability, like I was slipping in and out of time itself), were extremely draining, and confusing as hell. After I learned what it was, how it worked, and what I could do I set to work. Of course 15 year old Nick spent his time grabbing asses and exploring the school, among other private activities, but I always worried about what I could actually do with this power. My first thought was naked girls and all the money in the world, and my second was shame. As much as I wanted to it was too frightening the dark places you could go. I needed rules for myself and others safety and security. I couldn't hurt people with this, I could definitely help. But sadly the opportunity to help wasn't exactly one that came often, but the option to help myself was always there. At first I emptied wallets and purses living to steal, but then I saw what happened when I did. Fellow students unable to drive home without gas money, unable to eat because I had their money, even some unable to buy groceries for overworked parent and latchkey siblings. Guilt helped me rethink my ways, and tone down my actions. Loose change and small bills, no larger than $10, from multiple people made much more than all from one. Now theaters have become my hunting ground and metaphorical place of employment, preying on couples and kids with abundance of extra cash and broken change from a day out. The comfort of a theater helped cover up small changes in purse positions or the missing snack. The comfort of my silence and self helped to ease the guilt. That and the recreational substances some had on them. This time I found a joint on a teenager. Crap weed but fun to smoke while i worked. She must have smelled it walking by, but the fact she was walking by was the only part that struck me. A soft yellow light cut a triangle of light onto the dark red carpeting. My eyes flicked to that first, watching the angle widen and close, then to the silhouette of head, shoulders, and shoulder length hair bouncing from an abrupt stop. Words escaped me, and for a few seconds she and I both waited with bated breath. Head spinning I slowly raised the spliff and took a hit, the only thing that really made sense at the moment and the only thing I knew could really keep my shit together. I choked immediately and doubled over coughing.
"O- oh my God! Are you okay?"
Her first words struck me like a dagger. My coughing stopped suddenly, as if the gravity of the situation calmed my burning throat.
"I... I uh..", the only sounds i could make. She slowly stepped forward, her face and body being illuminated by the cold blue screens light. Every step brought her clarity through the darkness. Dark shiny hair, framing a face of fair skin and soft demeanor. In the strangest way the gentle beauty of this mystery woman brought me more comfort in this moment than the pot or the realm of silence I often hid in.
"Yeah yes I'm okay I'm sorry about that. It's just kind of... I mean... I mean you know right?" I stammered, unable to put into words exactly what I felt or thought.
She laughed, a sweet and slightly overwhelmed laugh.
"No I get what you mean. I don't even know what this is and now you and this and and and-"
She started to breathe heavily and she grew more agitated with every word. I'm not sure why but her distress made mine feel like nothing. I can't say what it was exactly that gave me that presence of mind then but suddenly I just wanted her to calm down. In a way I was worried about her, even then I felt an attachment to her. One I couldn't feel out or describe but one born of this frozen moment and the fact we could share it.
"Woah,hey just calm down alright? Best we can do here is just relax and figure this out okay? I'm losing my mind here but it won't help us to freak yeah?"
She looked at me as I slowly walked forward, hands out and voice calm.
"I just I just I have no idea what's going on right now why are you here? I thought this was my place how can you even see me right now?"
"I don't know. I really don't, I thought this was my special thing too. I'm just as lost as you right now."
She took another step, "How do can you do this?"
"Same as you I guess. What your name?" I asked.
"Tiffany," she replied, "my name is Tiffany." I could tell she was shaking. She kept her voice steady but her hands and knees vibrated with fear.
"Its very nice to meet you Tiffany," I said calmly and politely, "my names Nick.. Did you maybe want a hit?"
I held out the joint, which had lost its cherry smoldering tip somewhere on the carpet by my feet, and shrugged my shoulders as if to say it was all good.
"Fuck yes," she sighed. "Buds about the only thing I can fucking handle right now." She paced over and took it from my hands swiftly but gently, placing it between her lips and attempting a long pull on the dead roll.
"Oh wait here I gotcha" I softly exclaimed whipping out the zippo I found in the same purse as the weed. I held the lighter up and sparked away. After a healthy drag she whipped it away and inhaled sharply. Handing the joint to me and looking out of the sides of squinted eyes she asked,
"What's your name?" She asked softly, smoke flowing out with each word. For a moment I was lost in her eyes, now visible in the glow from the projector. Although shrouded in cold blue and white light her eyes were the deepest chocolate brown I had ever seen. Warm and weakening her gaze held mine for what felt like too long for comfort. But neither of us broke it. The world faded out as the smoke surrounded her and the already glowing light was made almost mystical. I felt my mouth moving first, breaking the spell I was under at the moment.
"Nick. I kind of just said it but it's fine considering."
The conversation that followed changed both of our lives for good. We found that each time one used their powers the other had simultaneously frozen time. As if we both needed to or wanted to retreat into our cold world. In times of sadness, happiness, fear, or necessity, no matter what it seemed to line up exactly. What once felt like the one true difference between me and the rest of the world had changed in a way I never expected. After all of our shared theories and habits out of time we found ourselves sitting and talking, laughing, and rejoicing in our shared miracle.
After a while I came back to reality and had to ask,
"So what the hell do we do now?"
"I have no idea." She replied somberly.
"Well," I started, " I think we can start by getting out of here with some cash and xanax from all these rich housewives. It's not exactly a first date but it's the best I can do."
She looked at me inquisitively and said, "Who said anything about a date? I just met you stopped in time doing drugs and stealing from people "
"Oh shit I didnt mean it like that I'm not trying to overstep or anything I just meant it's probably be cool to hang out some more seeing as we can both literally control time but it's up to you i don't want to push or anything."
My rambling and nervous flurry of words seemed to catch her by surprise. Her eyes widened and she laughed brightly.
"Hey relax I was just kidding! I know what you mean and yes that sounds fun." She said smiling and swinging her legs off the armrest and onto the ground.
"You are a mean person you know that?" I said chuckling, "Besides, I doubt you could handle a date with me. Pretty intense." I said as we walked down the stairs towards the theater doors.
"I'll have to decide that for myself then." She said challengingly as she walked past me through the door I held open for her.
As I let go and took the first step into an entirely new world I stopped and looked back into the theater. One foot inside and one foot out an overwhelming sensation took hold. One of worry and peacefulness. The kind that let's you know even in the worst times your world is at peace. The kind that makes you scared you're not ready for the next adventure. But all in the same the one that pushes you to find out. As my second step took me closer to my next life and the door behind me swung close, my cold, empty and timeless world changed too.
Warmth and glow filled my surroundings, and centered in it was Tiffany. I couldn't describe it then but I can now. It was a precursor. A catalyst. That moment between time became something that all the time in the universe could never even touch. The start of the rest of our lives. Together. | HAHAHAH I knew I’d find you!
The large man leaps from the door and into a chair in front of me, spilling a nearby movie watcher’s popcorn all over their —assumed to be— date.
Who are you? I ask. I’ve never seen this man in my life and suddenly he’s acting like he’s some sort of best buddy that I once knew.
It’s me! He exclaims jubilantly. He takes a handful of popcorn off of the woman’s snack tray. I’m your arch nemesis!
A nemesis? Is this some type of joke? Is this guy just some weird time hallucination I’m having? Surly he can’t be real.
I look at him, head tilted slightly, and he looks at me in the eyes and smiles the widest smile I’ve seen in my life.
I’m gonna catch you.
Times up. The popcorn lands on the ground. Just as soon as he appeared he jumps to the other side of the theater and disappears. And I’m standing there holding this lady’s purse.
She screams at me and her date and storms out of the theater. Just then I freeze time again and start bolting out the door before I can be caught by whatever authority she is going to run to, and also to get away before that boisterous loud mouthed man can get anywhere near me.
I get to my car and time is up. I get in and start to drive fast to not home. It’s about 15 mins away so I should be there soon.
Suddenly I see a large figure in my rearview mirror. It’s blinding from car to car, gaining tremendous speed on me. I can’t stop time now because then I’d shoot myself through my windshield at 60mph and that wouldn’t turn out well. Besides it doesn’t even effect him even if I wanted to do that. So I push the gas all the way down.
Then there’s a thud. My roof tears open. And in comes a hand. It pulls me up, and just like that time stops. He leaps off of the car and into a nearby exit.
He’s standing there, smile as wide as ever, looking at me like some preordered meal he’s been waiting to have delivered to him.
I took a moment and a deep breath.
Who are you? I asked.
He took a step forward.
Leaned in.
Put his face up to my ear.
Your worst nightmare. | |
[WP] Your whole life you've had the ability to freeze time while freely moving around. You've kept it a secret, using this power mostly for petty theft and personal gain. One day, while rummaging through strangers' purses and wallets in darkened theater, the doors open and someone else walks in. | "TIME OUT!" I screamed, one final time. Diligently as ever, time rolled to a stand still. People froze, the neon lights of the diner seemed to dull, the bizarre synth music stopped, only this time I could finally see it. The border of this reality. A screen, as it were.
My power had been mounting. Too long had I sat here in the body of this ficticious, troublemaking high schooler, watching his shennangins, sparing off against the sad Mr. Belding, choosing my moments to tempt the boy with power, succeeding, guiding this *thing* here, this artificial construct embedded in a false, inferior dimension. Finally! Finally, on this day of all days, I would finally break time. Break free. Break the world.
All I needed was a swift kick and this reality would finally shatter. The grand illusion, this endless cycle, undone by a...
No. No! Why is it getting dark? Where's the screen? WHAT IS HAPPENING?!
"Good question," said a figure in the gloom. "I don't know much, but - unfortunately - I don't think you'll like the answer."
The figure was fuzzy, out of phase. I tried to move, but I was frozen. The only thing I could do was... feel. Suddenly, it was cold. It was *never* cold here. I **can't** be cold.
"When the data is rewritten," the figure explained, "there's a moment that exists - out of time, in a way - that is simultaneously eternally happening, and yet never happening."
This did not make sense. I was a being - a master - of time. Time is a river that I dam and undam at my leisure. Time and space are my domain-
"There is neither time nor space where we are," said the fuzzy figure. It gestured... something... "Ah. Apologies. There is very little I can do about that."
The figure stopped moving. "This is all data, displayed on a screen, afixed by little units known as *pixels* to generate an image for viewing by the user."
The figure became a blob.
"It appears the young man who stored you here has accidentally given this disk to another, who found a new use for this space. How sad for you."
What? That. This is...
"It's unlikely you'll truely understand."
...*cold*.
"Beyond, the screen there are beings - humans - that used to use these disks. This particular disk - I infer - is slated for repurposing, to encode new content. It appears the process will destroy you." It chuckled, "Who knew? I suppose *Saved by the Bell* no longer attracts the audience it used to."
The blur began to fade.
"Who knew that this would end you, too. I suppose *Game of Thrones* kills even characters outside its own universe as well..." | HAHAHAH I knew I’d find you!
The large man leaps from the door and into a chair in front of me, spilling a nearby movie watcher’s popcorn all over their —assumed to be— date.
Who are you? I ask. I’ve never seen this man in my life and suddenly he’s acting like he’s some sort of best buddy that I once knew.
It’s me! He exclaims jubilantly. He takes a handful of popcorn off of the woman’s snack tray. I’m your arch nemesis!
A nemesis? Is this some type of joke? Is this guy just some weird time hallucination I’m having? Surly he can’t be real.
I look at him, head tilted slightly, and he looks at me in the eyes and smiles the widest smile I’ve seen in my life.
I’m gonna catch you.
Times up. The popcorn lands on the ground. Just as soon as he appeared he jumps to the other side of the theater and disappears. And I’m standing there holding this lady’s purse.
She screams at me and her date and storms out of the theater. Just then I freeze time again and start bolting out the door before I can be caught by whatever authority she is going to run to, and also to get away before that boisterous loud mouthed man can get anywhere near me.
I get to my car and time is up. I get in and start to drive fast to not home. It’s about 15 mins away so I should be there soon.
Suddenly I see a large figure in my rearview mirror. It’s blinding from car to car, gaining tremendous speed on me. I can’t stop time now because then I’d shoot myself through my windshield at 60mph and that wouldn’t turn out well. Besides it doesn’t even effect him even if I wanted to do that. So I push the gas all the way down.
Then there’s a thud. My roof tears open. And in comes a hand. It pulls me up, and just like that time stops. He leaps off of the car and into a nearby exit.
He’s standing there, smile as wide as ever, looking at me like some preordered meal he’s been waiting to have delivered to him.
I took a moment and a deep breath.
Who are you? I asked.
He took a step forward.
Leaned in.
Put his face up to my ear.
Your worst nightmare. | |
[WP] Your whole life you've had the ability to freeze time while freely moving around. You've kept it a secret, using this power mostly for petty theft and personal gain. One day, while rummaging through strangers' purses and wallets in darkened theater, the doors open and someone else walks in. | “Oh shit.”
Elias looked around the theater and everyone still appeared frozen. He scurried to sit down in an empty seat still clutching the wallet he had just taken from the mustached man in front of him. Multiple pairs of footsteps now entered the theater. Elias began sweating. His heart was pounding with an intensity he had never experienced before. So many questions began racing through his mind. ‘Is my magic not as strong as I thought it was? Are these people just immune? Are there others like me that can do this?!’ Elias was breathing heavier. ‘Whoever they are… they’re going to hear me.’ He put his head down in an already defeated manner and tried not to make a sound.
“Dammit Jane, you said he was in here!” a male voice called out into the frozen theater.
“Well… I… I’m picking up magic energy in here. He could be next door?” A soft female voice answered.
Elias’ eyes widened. The voices appeared to be from kids his age. Could this girl sense magical energy.? Is that how she found him?
“I don’t know what to tell you Jane, everyone in here looks frozen. Fine – yea, let’s try the coffee shop next door.” The male’s footsteps started heading back to the entrance.
Elias began to breathe a sigh of relief and then -
“Wait a second…” Jane answered.
‘Oh God.’ Elias’ heart sank. This Jane girl definitely knew he was in here and he was sure she was going to find him. What could they want with him? Elias pondered. Were they some sort of magic police? He decided it best to not make a sound and hope for them to leave. If Jane finds him, he would run. He began taking mental notes of all the exits.
“What is it Jane? We don’t have all day. He could unfreeze at any minute. This is the closest we’ve come to finding the Master of Time.” The male voice was clearly annoyed.
‘Master of Time?’ Elias whispered to himself. Without thinking, Elias raised his head. Was he the Master of Time?
“He’s right there!” Jane said enthusiastically.
“I see him!” The male voice called out.
‘Shit shit shit!!’ Elias jumped to his feet and pushed through the frozen legs of the people in his row. He began running full speed down the aisle and looked back to see two people running after him.
“STOP RIGHT THERE!” The male voice called out.
Elias made it to the exit door and ran down the alley. There was a frozen intersection of cars ahead of him.
“STOP RUNNING – PLEASE!!” The male voice was not that far behind him.
Elias ran through the frozen intersection and from the other side closed his eyes and whispered ‘unfreeze’ and the traffic resumed. He opened his eyes to see the male voice stuck at the other end of the intersection as cars now whizzed by. Elias was right. The voice was coming from a boy who seemed about his age. What was weirder is that this kid looked fairly normal wearing a white t-shirt and black jeans. He didn’t seem threatening.
Elias rounded the corner and after about 6 blocks, hopped a fence down another alley way. He took out the cash from the wallet he had stolen and entered in the back door of a nearby pizza shop. The place was empty with dark windows. They wouldn’t find him here. ‘Surely they’ll expect me to head home or go back to the theater.’ He thought to himself as he ordered a slice and then sat down at one of the tables. He replayed the theater scene in his mind over and over again. Could he be a Master of Time? He smiled to himself. Maybe he was valuable… or at least, more powerful than he thought.
The back door opened and a girl walked in. Elias jumped up.
The girl had blonde wavy hair, green eyes, and flashed Elias a smile as she walked to the counter and placed a take-out order. Elias sat back in his chair trying to replay the scene once more to figure out if this could be Jane, but he had concentrated so hard on the male voice that he realized he had no clue what Jane looked like.
He watched the girl closely, but she seemed disinterested in him. Elias relaxed and finished his pizza. He was clearly still feeling jumpy and wanted to be alone. He got up to the counter to pay for his slice with the mustached man’s cash.
“Hi” The girl said to him.
Elias turned his head to meet the girl’s gaze and felt weak. This girl was beautiful. Truly breath-takingly beautiful.
“Uh…hi.” Elias said nervously. He scrambled with the cash in his hands to pay for the slice.
“Can you do me a favor?” The girl asked Elias.
Elias froze. What could this girl want with him? He decided this had to be Jane after all. Elias looked towards the exit and wondered if he should make a run for it.
“Uh..wha.. what is it?” Elias responded.
“Don’t scream.” She said.
At once two people entered the pizza shop. One from the back entrance – another girl. And one from the front entrance, the boy who had chased Elias earlier.
The boy began walking towards Elias. He was obviously angry and stared at him with a fierce determination that now made him appear threatening. He opened his mouth and Elias hung on his every word. “This time, you’re not getting away.”
“Oh shit.”
| HAHAHAH I knew I’d find you!
The large man leaps from the door and into a chair in front of me, spilling a nearby movie watcher’s popcorn all over their —assumed to be— date.
Who are you? I ask. I’ve never seen this man in my life and suddenly he’s acting like he’s some sort of best buddy that I once knew.
It’s me! He exclaims jubilantly. He takes a handful of popcorn off of the woman’s snack tray. I’m your arch nemesis!
A nemesis? Is this some type of joke? Is this guy just some weird time hallucination I’m having? Surly he can’t be real.
I look at him, head tilted slightly, and he looks at me in the eyes and smiles the widest smile I’ve seen in my life.
I’m gonna catch you.
Times up. The popcorn lands on the ground. Just as soon as he appeared he jumps to the other side of the theater and disappears. And I’m standing there holding this lady’s purse.
She screams at me and her date and storms out of the theater. Just then I freeze time again and start bolting out the door before I can be caught by whatever authority she is going to run to, and also to get away before that boisterous loud mouthed man can get anywhere near me.
I get to my car and time is up. I get in and start to drive fast to not home. It’s about 15 mins away so I should be there soon.
Suddenly I see a large figure in my rearview mirror. It’s blinding from car to car, gaining tremendous speed on me. I can’t stop time now because then I’d shoot myself through my windshield at 60mph and that wouldn’t turn out well. Besides it doesn’t even effect him even if I wanted to do that. So I push the gas all the way down.
Then there’s a thud. My roof tears open. And in comes a hand. It pulls me up, and just like that time stops. He leaps off of the car and into a nearby exit.
He’s standing there, smile as wide as ever, looking at me like some preordered meal he’s been waiting to have delivered to him.
I took a moment and a deep breath.
Who are you? I asked.
He took a step forward.
Leaned in.
Put his face up to my ear.
Your worst nightmare. | |
[WP] Your whole life you've had the ability to freeze time while freely moving around. You've kept it a secret, using this power mostly for petty theft and personal gain. One day, while rummaging through strangers' purses and wallets in darkened theater, the doors open and someone else walks in. | “Oh shit.”
Elias looked around the theater and everyone still appeared frozen. He scurried to sit down in an empty seat still clutching the wallet he had just taken from the mustached man in front of him. Multiple pairs of footsteps now entered the theater. Elias began sweating. His heart was pounding with an intensity he had never experienced before. So many questions began racing through his mind. ‘Is my magic not as strong as I thought it was? Are these people just immune? Are there others like me that can do this?!’ Elias was breathing heavier. ‘Whoever they are… they’re going to hear me.’ He put his head down in an already defeated manner and tried not to make a sound.
“Dammit Jane, you said he was in here!” a male voice called out into the frozen theater.
“Well… I… I’m picking up magic energy in here. He could be next door?” A soft female voice answered.
Elias’ eyes widened. The voices appeared to be from kids his age. Could this girl sense magical energy.? Is that how she found him?
“I don’t know what to tell you Jane, everyone in here looks frozen. Fine – yea, let’s try the coffee shop next door.” The male’s footsteps started heading back to the entrance.
Elias began to breathe a sigh of relief and then -
“Wait a second…” Jane answered.
‘Oh God.’ Elias’ heart sank. This Jane girl definitely knew he was in here and he was sure she was going to find him. What could they want with him? Elias pondered. Were they some sort of magic police? He decided it best to not make a sound and hope for them to leave. If Jane finds him, he would run. He began taking mental notes of all the exits.
“What is it Jane? We don’t have all day. He could unfreeze at any minute. This is the closest we’ve come to finding the Master of Time.” The male voice was clearly annoyed.
‘Master of Time?’ Elias whispered to himself. Without thinking, Elias raised his head. Was he the Master of Time?
“He’s right there!” Jane said enthusiastically.
“I see him!” The male voice called out.
‘Shit shit shit!!’ Elias jumped to his feet and pushed through the frozen legs of the people in his row. He began running full speed down the aisle and looked back to see two people running after him.
“STOP RIGHT THERE!” The male voice called out.
Elias made it to the exit door and ran down the alley. There was a frozen intersection of cars ahead of him.
“STOP RUNNING – PLEASE!!” The male voice was not that far behind him.
Elias ran through the frozen intersection and from the other side closed his eyes and whispered ‘unfreeze’ and the traffic resumed. He opened his eyes to see the male voice stuck at the other end of the intersection as cars now whizzed by. Elias was right. The voice was coming from a boy who seemed about his age. What was weirder is that this kid looked fairly normal wearing a white t-shirt and black jeans. He didn’t seem threatening.
Elias rounded the corner and after about 6 blocks, hopped a fence down another alley way. He took out the cash from the wallet he had stolen and entered in the back door of a nearby pizza shop. The place was empty with dark windows. They wouldn’t find him here. ‘Surely they’ll expect me to head home or go back to the theater.’ He thought to himself as he ordered a slice and then sat down at one of the tables. He replayed the theater scene in his mind over and over again. Could he be a Master of Time? He smiled to himself. Maybe he was valuable… or at least, more powerful than he thought.
The back door opened and a girl walked in. Elias jumped up.
The girl had blonde wavy hair, green eyes, and flashed Elias a smile as she walked to the counter and placed a take-out order. Elias sat back in his chair trying to replay the scene once more to figure out if this could be Jane, but he had concentrated so hard on the male voice that he realized he had no clue what Jane looked like.
He watched the girl closely, but she seemed disinterested in him. Elias relaxed and finished his pizza. He was clearly still feeling jumpy and wanted to be alone. He got up to the counter to pay for his slice with the mustached man’s cash.
“Hi” The girl said to him.
Elias turned his head to meet the girl’s gaze and felt weak. This girl was beautiful. Truly breath-takingly beautiful.
“Uh…hi.” Elias said nervously. He scrambled with the cash in his hands to pay for the slice.
“Can you do me a favor?” The girl asked Elias.
Elias froze. What could this girl want with him? He decided this had to be Jane after all. Elias looked towards the exit and wondered if he should make a run for it.
“Uh..wha.. what is it?” Elias responded.
“Don’t scream.” She said.
At once two people entered the pizza shop. One from the back entrance – another girl. And one from the front entrance, the boy who had chased Elias earlier.
The boy began walking towards Elias. He was obviously angry and stared at him with a fierce determination that now made him appear threatening. He opened his mouth and Elias hung on his every word. “This time, you’re not getting away.”
“Oh shit.”
| Time stopped; everything stood still. The look on my father's face was dark and angry as always, and the slight smudge of vomit on his lower lip was still present from the previous night. The smell of beer and wine dissipated as I stepped outside the house. I rubbed the blue and purple splotches that bubbled down my torso until the sharp pains dulled into the usual ache.
I walked for a short amount of time, simply looking around at the landscape of downtown New Bedford. A couple seemed to be halfway through a stride, cigarettes in both their hands. The woman's face was stretched into a smile, and the man's was contorted into amusement; In their eyes was a glimpse of unrest. I kept walking.
The air felt humid, with a concoction of light smog and clouds overhead. It wasn't like this when I was growing up. Whenever I think about my past it was so full of sunshine. As a young one I would always look out into the ocean and wonder what else could be out there. But that sense of adventure drowned in the ocean. Its little head would bob up once in a while, but it eventually dulled and turned to grey, just as the skies have.
I looked back. That thing. It was still there. I noticed it a month prior. A black mist disguised as a man. I stared at it for a little while, as its form shifted forwards and back: tendrils of darkness caressed a shaft with an arching blade. I stared. It stared. I kept walking.
The cobblestone streets continued to go up at an incline. I struggled to keep walking. My legs continued wobbling as I passed the whaling museum on my right. The now dead building used to look so alive. Tourists would come and take pictures of the gardens in the front and the metal statue used to glint, from the sun’s rays that would shine down upon it. I would go in with my mother; we would look at the pictures, and I would always ask her what all the words on the pedestals said. The beautiful stories of fishermen and whales she would tell astounded me. And I truly believe that she was just as inspired by those stories as me, since she decided to live the rest of her days underwater.
Astounding amounts of time passed till my legs stopped moving. I looked upward and saw the sign of the old movie theatre. The glass from the ticket reflected the image of the shadowed figure once again. I stared at my own reflection. Black and purple is all I could see. The visage of a person destroyed. I swallowed. I kept walking.
The theatre seemed to burst to life as I stepped into it. My old childhood friends ran across the carpets screaming and laughing, along with a little me. The smiles were all genuine. Ignorant. The snack stands were lined with people getting popcorn and soda, the aroma of cream and butter wafting through the air. I continued deeper into the theatre. The images of youth slowly faded to grimy walls, and torn posters as I continued deeper into the theatre. The lights displaying the names of the movies shattered into broken light bulbs and burnt coils as I continued deeper into the theatre. I opened the door and walked into the viewing area. I looked at the screen as the colors coalesced into an image. The image was of me crumpled on the floor of my kitchen.
I felt a light hand on my shoulder. “Do you understand now?”
I nodded. I kept walking.
To the light I went.
(I know that this doesn't exactly follow the prompt, but it inspired and gave me the idea for this short story. I would love feedback! And thank you so much for taking the time to read it!) | |
[WP] Your whole life you've had the ability to freeze time while freely moving around. You've kept it a secret, using this power mostly for petty theft and personal gain. One day, while rummaging through strangers' purses and wallets in darkened theater, the doors open and someone else walks in. | “Oh shit.”
Elias looked around the theater and everyone still appeared frozen. He scurried to sit down in an empty seat still clutching the wallet he had just taken from the mustached man in front of him. Multiple pairs of footsteps now entered the theater. Elias began sweating. His heart was pounding with an intensity he had never experienced before. So many questions began racing through his mind. ‘Is my magic not as strong as I thought it was? Are these people just immune? Are there others like me that can do this?!’ Elias was breathing heavier. ‘Whoever they are… they’re going to hear me.’ He put his head down in an already defeated manner and tried not to make a sound.
“Dammit Jane, you said he was in here!” a male voice called out into the frozen theater.
“Well… I… I’m picking up magic energy in here. He could be next door?” A soft female voice answered.
Elias’ eyes widened. The voices appeared to be from kids his age. Could this girl sense magical energy.? Is that how she found him?
“I don’t know what to tell you Jane, everyone in here looks frozen. Fine – yea, let’s try the coffee shop next door.” The male’s footsteps started heading back to the entrance.
Elias began to breathe a sigh of relief and then -
“Wait a second…” Jane answered.
‘Oh God.’ Elias’ heart sank. This Jane girl definitely knew he was in here and he was sure she was going to find him. What could they want with him? Elias pondered. Were they some sort of magic police? He decided it best to not make a sound and hope for them to leave. If Jane finds him, he would run. He began taking mental notes of all the exits.
“What is it Jane? We don’t have all day. He could unfreeze at any minute. This is the closest we’ve come to finding the Master of Time.” The male voice was clearly annoyed.
‘Master of Time?’ Elias whispered to himself. Without thinking, Elias raised his head. Was he the Master of Time?
“He’s right there!” Jane said enthusiastically.
“I see him!” The male voice called out.
‘Shit shit shit!!’ Elias jumped to his feet and pushed through the frozen legs of the people in his row. He began running full speed down the aisle and looked back to see two people running after him.
“STOP RIGHT THERE!” The male voice called out.
Elias made it to the exit door and ran down the alley. There was a frozen intersection of cars ahead of him.
“STOP RUNNING – PLEASE!!” The male voice was not that far behind him.
Elias ran through the frozen intersection and from the other side closed his eyes and whispered ‘unfreeze’ and the traffic resumed. He opened his eyes to see the male voice stuck at the other end of the intersection as cars now whizzed by. Elias was right. The voice was coming from a boy who seemed about his age. What was weirder is that this kid looked fairly normal wearing a white t-shirt and black jeans. He didn’t seem threatening.
Elias rounded the corner and after about 6 blocks, hopped a fence down another alley way. He took out the cash from the wallet he had stolen and entered in the back door of a nearby pizza shop. The place was empty with dark windows. They wouldn’t find him here. ‘Surely they’ll expect me to head home or go back to the theater.’ He thought to himself as he ordered a slice and then sat down at one of the tables. He replayed the theater scene in his mind over and over again. Could he be a Master of Time? He smiled to himself. Maybe he was valuable… or at least, more powerful than he thought.
The back door opened and a girl walked in. Elias jumped up.
The girl had blonde wavy hair, green eyes, and flashed Elias a smile as she walked to the counter and placed a take-out order. Elias sat back in his chair trying to replay the scene once more to figure out if this could be Jane, but he had concentrated so hard on the male voice that he realized he had no clue what Jane looked like.
He watched the girl closely, but she seemed disinterested in him. Elias relaxed and finished his pizza. He was clearly still feeling jumpy and wanted to be alone. He got up to the counter to pay for his slice with the mustached man’s cash.
“Hi” The girl said to him.
Elias turned his head to meet the girl’s gaze and felt weak. This girl was beautiful. Truly breath-takingly beautiful.
“Uh…hi.” Elias said nervously. He scrambled with the cash in his hands to pay for the slice.
“Can you do me a favor?” The girl asked Elias.
Elias froze. What could this girl want with him? He decided this had to be Jane after all. Elias looked towards the exit and wondered if he should make a run for it.
“Uh..wha.. what is it?” Elias responded.
“Don’t scream.” She said.
At once two people entered the pizza shop. One from the back entrance – another girl. And one from the front entrance, the boy who had chased Elias earlier.
The boy began walking towards Elias. He was obviously angry and stared at him with a fierce determination that now made him appear threatening. He opened his mouth and Elias hung on his every word. “This time, you’re not getting away.”
“Oh shit.”
| Petty theft and personal gain? That’s what some people would call it, I guess - but it lacks class. No, what I do is take away the things that people think they need, so that they can focus on the things that actually matter.
Being in the center of Shibuya crossing is nice. People carry lots of expensive goods. Yet they wouldn’t fathom to think that someone actually *stole* something from them. That’s not the custom here.
I don’t keep the phones, for the most part. I tend to throw them away. “Phones are distractions that stop these people from giving life the full attention that it so rightly deserves.” I type this reflection on my new iPhone. Well, you’d be a sucker to throw away *all* the phones, right? Moshi moshi, losers.
This frozen gentleman over here - he looks like a prime target. Time has stopped, he’s a half stance in his walk, has a concerned busy expression. Neat rolled back hair - check. Business suit - check. Tie from Europe - check. Rolex - check. Could he get any more stereotypical?
I go to take his Rolex. There’s a delightful irony in taking timepieces, for me.
As I go to unclasp it,
he
moves.
The next moment I remember, I’m still at Shibuya crossing, but everything is moving...
He’s gone.
Gone, but...
The bastard stole *my* watch.
...who the hell is this guy? | |
[WP] Your whole life you've had the ability to freeze time while freely moving around. You've kept it a secret, using this power mostly for petty theft and personal gain. One day, while rummaging through strangers' purses and wallets in darkened theater, the doors open and someone else walks in. | “Oh shit.”
Elias looked around the theater and everyone still appeared frozen. He scurried to sit down in an empty seat still clutching the wallet he had just taken from the mustached man in front of him. Multiple pairs of footsteps now entered the theater. Elias began sweating. His heart was pounding with an intensity he had never experienced before. So many questions began racing through his mind. ‘Is my magic not as strong as I thought it was? Are these people just immune? Are there others like me that can do this?!’ Elias was breathing heavier. ‘Whoever they are… they’re going to hear me.’ He put his head down in an already defeated manner and tried not to make a sound.
“Dammit Jane, you said he was in here!” a male voice called out into the frozen theater.
“Well… I… I’m picking up magic energy in here. He could be next door?” A soft female voice answered.
Elias’ eyes widened. The voices appeared to be from kids his age. Could this girl sense magical energy.? Is that how she found him?
“I don’t know what to tell you Jane, everyone in here looks frozen. Fine – yea, let’s try the coffee shop next door.” The male’s footsteps started heading back to the entrance.
Elias began to breathe a sigh of relief and then -
“Wait a second…” Jane answered.
‘Oh God.’ Elias’ heart sank. This Jane girl definitely knew he was in here and he was sure she was going to find him. What could they want with him? Elias pondered. Were they some sort of magic police? He decided it best to not make a sound and hope for them to leave. If Jane finds him, he would run. He began taking mental notes of all the exits.
“What is it Jane? We don’t have all day. He could unfreeze at any minute. This is the closest we’ve come to finding the Master of Time.” The male voice was clearly annoyed.
‘Master of Time?’ Elias whispered to himself. Without thinking, Elias raised his head. Was he the Master of Time?
“He’s right there!” Jane said enthusiastically.
“I see him!” The male voice called out.
‘Shit shit shit!!’ Elias jumped to his feet and pushed through the frozen legs of the people in his row. He began running full speed down the aisle and looked back to see two people running after him.
“STOP RIGHT THERE!” The male voice called out.
Elias made it to the exit door and ran down the alley. There was a frozen intersection of cars ahead of him.
“STOP RUNNING – PLEASE!!” The male voice was not that far behind him.
Elias ran through the frozen intersection and from the other side closed his eyes and whispered ‘unfreeze’ and the traffic resumed. He opened his eyes to see the male voice stuck at the other end of the intersection as cars now whizzed by. Elias was right. The voice was coming from a boy who seemed about his age. What was weirder is that this kid looked fairly normal wearing a white t-shirt and black jeans. He didn’t seem threatening.
Elias rounded the corner and after about 6 blocks, hopped a fence down another alley way. He took out the cash from the wallet he had stolen and entered in the back door of a nearby pizza shop. The place was empty with dark windows. They wouldn’t find him here. ‘Surely they’ll expect me to head home or go back to the theater.’ He thought to himself as he ordered a slice and then sat down at one of the tables. He replayed the theater scene in his mind over and over again. Could he be a Master of Time? He smiled to himself. Maybe he was valuable… or at least, more powerful than he thought.
The back door opened and a girl walked in. Elias jumped up.
The girl had blonde wavy hair, green eyes, and flashed Elias a smile as she walked to the counter and placed a take-out order. Elias sat back in his chair trying to replay the scene once more to figure out if this could be Jane, but he had concentrated so hard on the male voice that he realized he had no clue what Jane looked like.
He watched the girl closely, but she seemed disinterested in him. Elias relaxed and finished his pizza. He was clearly still feeling jumpy and wanted to be alone. He got up to the counter to pay for his slice with the mustached man’s cash.
“Hi” The girl said to him.
Elias turned his head to meet the girl’s gaze and felt weak. This girl was beautiful. Truly breath-takingly beautiful.
“Uh…hi.” Elias said nervously. He scrambled with the cash in his hands to pay for the slice.
“Can you do me a favor?” The girl asked Elias.
Elias froze. What could this girl want with him? He decided this had to be Jane after all. Elias looked towards the exit and wondered if he should make a run for it.
“Uh..wha.. what is it?” Elias responded.
“Don’t scream.” She said.
At once two people entered the pizza shop. One from the back entrance – another girl. And one from the front entrance, the boy who had chased Elias earlier.
The boy began walking towards Elias. He was obviously angry and stared at him with a fierce determination that now made him appear threatening. He opened his mouth and Elias hung on his every word. “This time, you’re not getting away.”
“Oh shit.”
|
It's always a shame to have to pause a movie halfway through. It's an even bigger shame to always pause a movie halfway through. But this was a small flaw, or at least my opinion of one, part of a larger miracle. One that most wouldn'tsee as flawed. Moreover, one that most would see as an opportunity for personal gain. I guess I can't take the moral high ground here as I do the exact same thing. It started sometime during high school, sophomore English class I think, sitting at my desk on the side wall of the room packed with almost 40 students. Too busy moving ahead of the class to listen to my peers popcorn style reading of 1984 by George Orwell. It's funny I remember the scene in the book better than the actual classroom. I noticed something was wrong just after they were caught by the telescreen in their "secret apartment". When Winston and Julia's lives came crumbling down was when mine reached a tipping point. Some would think that the first thing you would notice when the entire world around you ceases all motion and energy in time is the silence. Unsettling as it was, silence wasn't the issue. It was the cold, empty feeling that crept in from all sides. It permeated your skin and bone with a rattling chill, draining and somewhat painful. Of course you learn to deal with these things, and even come to enjoy them. My first few Slips (my word for my ability, like I was slipping in and out of time itself), were extremely draining, and confusing as hell. After I learned what it was, how it worked, and what I could do I set to work. Of course 15 year old Nick spent his time grabbing asses and exploring the school, among other private activities, but I always worried about what I could actually do with this power. My first thought was naked girls and all the money in the world, and my second was shame. As much as I wanted to it was too frightening the dark places you could go. I needed rules for myself and others safety and security. I couldn't hurt people with this, I could definitely help. But sadly the opportunity to help wasn't exactly one that came often, but the option to help myself was always there. At first I emptied wallets and purses living to steal, but then I saw what happened when I did. Fellow students unable to drive home without gas money, unable to eat because I had their money, even some unable to buy groceries for overworked parent and latchkey siblings. Guilt helped me rethink my ways, and tone down my actions. Loose change and small bills, no larger than $10, from multiple people made much more than all from one. Now theaters have become my hunting ground and metaphorical place of employment, preying on couples and kids with abundance of extra cash and broken change from a day out. The comfort of a theater helped cover up small changes in purse positions or the missing snack. The comfort of my silence and self helped to ease the guilt. That and the recreational substances some had on them. This time I found a joint on a teenager. Crap weed but fun to smoke while i worked. She must have smelled it walking by, but the fact she was walking by was the only part that struck me. A soft yellow light cut a triangle of light onto the dark red carpeting. My eyes flicked to that first, watching the angle widen and close, then to the silhouette of head, shoulders, and shoulder length hair bouncing from an abrupt stop. Words escaped me, and for a few seconds she and I both waited with bated breath. Head spinning I slowly raised the spliff and took a hit, the only thing that really made sense at the moment and the only thing I knew could really keep my shit together. I choked immediately and doubled over coughing.
"O- oh my God! Are you okay?"
Her first words struck me like a dagger. My coughing stopped suddenly, as if the gravity of the situation calmed my burning throat.
"I... I uh..", the only sounds i could make. She slowly stepped forward, her face and body being illuminated by the cold blue screens light. Every step brought her clarity through the darkness. Dark shiny hair, framing a face of fair skin and soft demeanor. In the strangest way the gentle beauty of this mystery woman brought me more comfort in this moment than the pot or the realm of silence I often hid in.
"Yeah yes I'm okay I'm sorry about that. It's just kind of... I mean... I mean you know right?" I stammered, unable to put into words exactly what I felt or thought.
She laughed, a sweet and slightly overwhelmed laugh.
"No I get what you mean. I don't even know what this is and now you and this and and and-"
She started to breathe heavily and she grew more agitated with every word. I'm not sure why but her distress made mine feel like nothing. I can't say what it was exactly that gave me that presence of mind then but suddenly I just wanted her to calm down. In a way I was worried about her, even then I felt an attachment to her. One I couldn't feel out or describe but one born of this frozen moment and the fact we could share it.
"Woah,hey just calm down alright? Best we can do here is just relax and figure this out okay? I'm losing my mind here but it won't help us to freak yeah?"
She looked at me as I slowly walked forward, hands out and voice calm.
"I just I just I have no idea what's going on right now why are you here? I thought this was my place how can you even see me right now?"
"I don't know. I really don't, I thought this was my special thing too. I'm just as lost as you right now."
She took another step, "How do can you do this?"
"Same as you I guess. What your name?" I asked.
"Tiffany," she replied, "my name is Tiffany." I could tell she was shaking. She kept her voice steady but her hands and knees vibrated with fear.
"Its very nice to meet you Tiffany," I said calmly and politely, "my names Nick.. Did you maybe want a hit?"
I held out the joint, which had lost its cherry smoldering tip somewhere on the carpet by my feet, and shrugged my shoulders as if to say it was all good.
"Fuck yes," she sighed. "Buds about the only thing I can fucking handle right now." She paced over and took it from my hands swiftly but gently, placing it between her lips and attempting a long pull on the dead roll.
"Oh wait here I gotcha" I softly exclaimed whipping out the zippo I found in the same purse as the weed. I held the lighter up and sparked away. After a healthy drag she whipped it away and inhaled sharply. Handing the joint to me and looking out of the sides of squinted eyes she asked,
"What's your name?" She asked softly, smoke flowing out with each word. For a moment I was lost in her eyes, now visible in the glow from the projector. Although shrouded in cold blue and white light her eyes were the deepest chocolate brown I had ever seen. Warm and weakening her gaze held mine for what felt like too long for comfort. But neither of us broke it. The world faded out as the smoke surrounded her and the already glowing light was made almost mystical. I felt my mouth moving first, breaking the spell I was under at the moment.
"Nick. I kind of just said it but it's fine considering."
The conversation that followed changed both of our lives for good. We found that each time one used their powers the other had simultaneously frozen time. As if we both needed to or wanted to retreat into our cold world. In times of sadness, happiness, fear, or necessity, no matter what it seemed to line up exactly. What once felt like the one true difference between me and the rest of the world had changed in a way I never expected. After all of our shared theories and habits out of time we found ourselves sitting and talking, laughing, and rejoicing in our shared miracle.
After a while I came back to reality and had to ask,
"So what the hell do we do now?"
"I have no idea." She replied somberly.
"Well," I started, " I think we can start by getting out of here with some cash and xanax from all these rich housewives. It's not exactly a first date but it's the best I can do."
She looked at me inquisitively and said, "Who said anything about a date? I just met you stopped in time doing drugs and stealing from people "
"Oh shit I didnt mean it like that I'm not trying to overstep or anything I just meant it's probably be cool to hang out some more seeing as we can both literally control time but it's up to you i don't want to push or anything."
My rambling and nervous flurry of words seemed to catch her by surprise. Her eyes widened and she laughed brightly.
"Hey relax I was just kidding! I know what you mean and yes that sounds fun." She said smiling and swinging her legs off the armrest and onto the ground.
"You are a mean person you know that?" I said chuckling, "Besides, I doubt you could handle a date with me. Pretty intense." I said as we walked down the stairs towards the theater doors.
"I'll have to decide that for myself then." She said challengingly as she walked past me through the door I held open for her.
As I let go and took the first step into an entirely new world I stopped and looked back into the theater. One foot inside and one foot out an overwhelming sensation took hold. One of worry and peacefulness. The kind that let's you know even in the worst times your world is at peace. The kind that makes you scared you're not ready for the next adventure. But all in the same the one that pushes you to find out. As my second step took me closer to my next life and the door behind me swung close, my cold, empty and timeless world changed too.
Warmth and glow filled my surroundings, and centered in it was Tiffany. I couldn't describe it then but I can now. It was a precursor. A catalyst. That moment between time became something that all the time in the universe could never even touch. The start of the rest of our lives. Together. | |
[WP] Your whole life you've had the ability to freeze time while freely moving around. You've kept it a secret, using this power mostly for petty theft and personal gain. One day, while rummaging through strangers' purses and wallets in darkened theater, the doors open and someone else walks in. | “Oh shit.”
Elias looked around the theater and everyone still appeared frozen. He scurried to sit down in an empty seat still clutching the wallet he had just taken from the mustached man in front of him. Multiple pairs of footsteps now entered the theater. Elias began sweating. His heart was pounding with an intensity he had never experienced before. So many questions began racing through his mind. ‘Is my magic not as strong as I thought it was? Are these people just immune? Are there others like me that can do this?!’ Elias was breathing heavier. ‘Whoever they are… they’re going to hear me.’ He put his head down in an already defeated manner and tried not to make a sound.
“Dammit Jane, you said he was in here!” a male voice called out into the frozen theater.
“Well… I… I’m picking up magic energy in here. He could be next door?” A soft female voice answered.
Elias’ eyes widened. The voices appeared to be from kids his age. Could this girl sense magical energy.? Is that how she found him?
“I don’t know what to tell you Jane, everyone in here looks frozen. Fine – yea, let’s try the coffee shop next door.” The male’s footsteps started heading back to the entrance.
Elias began to breathe a sigh of relief and then -
“Wait a second…” Jane answered.
‘Oh God.’ Elias’ heart sank. This Jane girl definitely knew he was in here and he was sure she was going to find him. What could they want with him? Elias pondered. Were they some sort of magic police? He decided it best to not make a sound and hope for them to leave. If Jane finds him, he would run. He began taking mental notes of all the exits.
“What is it Jane? We don’t have all day. He could unfreeze at any minute. This is the closest we’ve come to finding the Master of Time.” The male voice was clearly annoyed.
‘Master of Time?’ Elias whispered to himself. Without thinking, Elias raised his head. Was he the Master of Time?
“He’s right there!” Jane said enthusiastically.
“I see him!” The male voice called out.
‘Shit shit shit!!’ Elias jumped to his feet and pushed through the frozen legs of the people in his row. He began running full speed down the aisle and looked back to see two people running after him.
“STOP RIGHT THERE!” The male voice called out.
Elias made it to the exit door and ran down the alley. There was a frozen intersection of cars ahead of him.
“STOP RUNNING – PLEASE!!” The male voice was not that far behind him.
Elias ran through the frozen intersection and from the other side closed his eyes and whispered ‘unfreeze’ and the traffic resumed. He opened his eyes to see the male voice stuck at the other end of the intersection as cars now whizzed by. Elias was right. The voice was coming from a boy who seemed about his age. What was weirder is that this kid looked fairly normal wearing a white t-shirt and black jeans. He didn’t seem threatening.
Elias rounded the corner and after about 6 blocks, hopped a fence down another alley way. He took out the cash from the wallet he had stolen and entered in the back door of a nearby pizza shop. The place was empty with dark windows. They wouldn’t find him here. ‘Surely they’ll expect me to head home or go back to the theater.’ He thought to himself as he ordered a slice and then sat down at one of the tables. He replayed the theater scene in his mind over and over again. Could he be a Master of Time? He smiled to himself. Maybe he was valuable… or at least, more powerful than he thought.
The back door opened and a girl walked in. Elias jumped up.
The girl had blonde wavy hair, green eyes, and flashed Elias a smile as she walked to the counter and placed a take-out order. Elias sat back in his chair trying to replay the scene once more to figure out if this could be Jane, but he had concentrated so hard on the male voice that he realized he had no clue what Jane looked like.
He watched the girl closely, but she seemed disinterested in him. Elias relaxed and finished his pizza. He was clearly still feeling jumpy and wanted to be alone. He got up to the counter to pay for his slice with the mustached man’s cash.
“Hi” The girl said to him.
Elias turned his head to meet the girl’s gaze and felt weak. This girl was beautiful. Truly breath-takingly beautiful.
“Uh…hi.” Elias said nervously. He scrambled with the cash in his hands to pay for the slice.
“Can you do me a favor?” The girl asked Elias.
Elias froze. What could this girl want with him? He decided this had to be Jane after all. Elias looked towards the exit and wondered if he should make a run for it.
“Uh..wha.. what is it?” Elias responded.
“Don’t scream.” She said.
At once two people entered the pizza shop. One from the back entrance – another girl. And one from the front entrance, the boy who had chased Elias earlier.
The boy began walking towards Elias. He was obviously angry and stared at him with a fierce determination that now made him appear threatening. He opened his mouth and Elias hung on his every word. “This time, you’re not getting away.”
“Oh shit.”
| "TIME OUT!" I screamed, one final time. Diligently as ever, time rolled to a stand still. People froze, the neon lights of the diner seemed to dull, the bizarre synth music stopped, only this time I could finally see it. The border of this reality. A screen, as it were.
My power had been mounting. Too long had I sat here in the body of this ficticious, troublemaking high schooler, watching his shennangins, sparing off against the sad Mr. Belding, choosing my moments to tempt the boy with power, succeeding, guiding this *thing* here, this artificial construct embedded in a false, inferior dimension. Finally! Finally, on this day of all days, I would finally break time. Break free. Break the world.
All I needed was a swift kick and this reality would finally shatter. The grand illusion, this endless cycle, undone by a...
No. No! Why is it getting dark? Where's the screen? WHAT IS HAPPENING?!
"Good question," said a figure in the gloom. "I don't know much, but - unfortunately - I don't think you'll like the answer."
The figure was fuzzy, out of phase. I tried to move, but I was frozen. The only thing I could do was... feel. Suddenly, it was cold. It was *never* cold here. I **can't** be cold.
"When the data is rewritten," the figure explained, "there's a moment that exists - out of time, in a way - that is simultaneously eternally happening, and yet never happening."
This did not make sense. I was a being - a master - of time. Time is a river that I dam and undam at my leisure. Time and space are my domain-
"There is neither time nor space where we are," said the fuzzy figure. It gestured... something... "Ah. Apologies. There is very little I can do about that."
The figure stopped moving. "This is all data, displayed on a screen, afixed by little units known as *pixels* to generate an image for viewing by the user."
The figure became a blob.
"It appears the young man who stored you here has accidentally given this disk to another, who found a new use for this space. How sad for you."
What? That. This is...
"It's unlikely you'll truely understand."
...*cold*.
"Beyond, the screen there are beings - humans - that used to use these disks. This particular disk - I infer - is slated for repurposing, to encode new content. It appears the process will destroy you." It chuckled, "Who knew? I suppose *Saved by the Bell* no longer attracts the audience it used to."
The blur began to fade.
"Who knew that this would end you, too. I suppose *Game of Thrones* kills even characters outside its own universe as well..." | |
[WP] Your whole life you've had the ability to freeze time while freely moving around. You've kept it a secret, using this power mostly for petty theft and personal gain. One day, while rummaging through strangers' purses and wallets in darkened theater, the doors open and someone else walks in. | The cup dropped shattering the silence in the theater. One of the first sounds of the movie. I activated my talent, freezing my fellow movie going, patrons. People mid scare always looked funny to me, eyes wide, mouth in some visage of a silent fear, hair was strewn wildly, it gives me a smile every time.
I put on some soft leather gloves and opened a large black garbage bag. I had about two minutes to collect as much as I could. I had strategically placed myself on an aisle so that I could raid down it, stealing as much as possible. I slid down the aisle grabbing purses, phones, really just whatever I could manage to wrangle off the floor or cupholders but rarely out of hands.
I made my way to the front of the theater and started up the other side. I worked in silence as everyone was frozen the only sound was the rustling of the plastic bag.
The door in the back of the theater opened. I froze. Quickly I stashed the bag in an empty chair and hurried to and an empty seat. Releasing my talent. Peoples yelps and gasps finished in and an awkward flurry of noise. I quickly took off the gloves and watched as the person. Immune to my powers walked down the aisle. An older man using the handle of a cane to walk. His dark bald head bobbed as he walked past me down the slight incline.
Time stopped again.
“I know you’re here,” He said. “Please come out.”
He spotted the bag.
“Wasteful, tsk,” he said. He shook his head. "We can do this all day and I can search each seat."
There was no way this old fart could mean that. I could barely hold the stasis for some three minutes. I watched mentally counting as I had many times as he began his search. Lucky for me he searched in the wrong direction. I continued past the three-minute mark as he was just starting on the far aisle. Four minutes, five, six. I thought of all that I could do with six minutes, who knows how long he could go.
I stood up and bolted down the aisle almost to the top of the incline the air became thick, almost mud like. I pushed through it, struggling to get out of the theater. The old man was in front of me.
“Now that I have found you. You will not get away.” He said. “I could really go for pizza; do you want some pizza?”
The question caught me off guard.
“I will let you go, but don’t try to run.”
The air thinned and my momentum slapped into me, I was no longer mentally running, but was still in the motion of it, I landed in an awkward pile at the man’s feet.
“How did you do that?” I gasped
“Come,” He said, “We can discuss over food. But, first please give this stuff back.” He held up my plastic bag.
I spent the next ten minutes trying to remember where I got the items in the bag and placing them back as well as I could. The old man held the people in the theater until I was done.
“Good, now let’s go.” He nodded.
As we cleared the top row of the theater he released them.
“You know,” He said as we exited the theater. “I was like you once.”
His dark face smiled down at mine. I looked away, he was finely dressed compared to the rags on my body.
“Well I was always taller, and less of a girl, but that's apparent. It looks like you have had a hard life but that doesn’t excuse your behavior in there, and I am sure previous behaviors. How old are you?”
“You are not going to talk, huh? Twelve, thirteen by the looks of you. How about Barros pizza?”
I kept silent.
“Well, Barros it is then, silence is not a vote. I don’t suppose you are going to tell me your name? … I didn’t think so. Ah just as well.”
The pizzeria sat on the corner of a busy intersection. Cars sped up and down the street. He opened the door for me.
“Ladies first.” He said and entered behind me.
The hostess gestured to an open booth and we sat down. He ordered a large pepperoni saying something like “all kids like pepperoni.”
I sat sullen and silent as he tried to coax information out of me. I would not speak to him until he gave up and left me alone but as the pizza got to the table my mouth started watering.
No. I would not give in I will not accept his empty gesture. He grabbed a piece and devoured it. The cheese oozed and the crust looked great.
“Well, that’s enough for me.” He said. “Go ahead girl, the rest is yours if you want.”
I gave in and ate four pieces and drank five glasses of water before filling full, he just sat and watched me with an amused smile.
“Well then, you wanted to know how I did that, I could teach you,” He said. “But have one question before I continue.”
I waited.
“Have you ever saved a life with your time dilation?”
I shook my head.
“Well first things first. I save lives. ” The restaurant’s din died and the people froze. He pointed out the window. “You see those two cars?”
“Yes,”
“There’s your voice,” He smiled, “It looks to me like they are going to crash. There is a child in the back seat, It's not buckled in. Save the child. Consider this your first lesson.”
****
Hey! Thanks for reading. Check out my other work here r/Okay_writing.
****
Part 2 is located [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/Okay_Writing/comments/8d8fit/in_good_time_pt_2/?st=jg5i3h03&sh=247a161f) | "Good evening, Jack."
The three whispered words broke the silence with the thunderous intensity of artillery fire. The same alien silence which took Jack months to get used to. Even the quietest of nights had the comforting lulls of wind and distant cars, the soft murmurs of crashing waves or spattering rain. Jack grew accustomed to true silence, a disquieting, impossible absence of sound guaranteed to turn mad anyone who experienced it for more than a few minutes. He had controlled and mastered that silence, with only his own breathing and heartbeat as companions, to have it then broken by the only sound more dreadful than that absence. A foreign human voice.
"Surprised?", the voice continued. From his first row seat, Jack could barely see the silhouette at the theatre's entrance. Behind him, the famous logo of a Hollywood producer, stopped in the middle of its ten-second montage, projected its carefully crafted image around the room, illuminating the still faces of the audience in yellow and gold tones. The figured moved further into the warm light of the screen.
"Who are you?" asked Jack.
"Who I am is not important right now. I'm more interested in your bag there."
Jack looked instinctively to the duffel bag at his feet. The bag he had brought that night, and where the wallets, watches and jewelry of three hundred unsuspecting theatregoers rested accusingly. In his guilt, Jack blinked, and the bag was no more.
"A rather profitable evening, Jack. It's a shame I had to show up. Not as great a shame, however, as you lining your pockets with that of others."
Seemingly still in the same place, by the double doors of the room, the figure held the bag, opening it for Jack to see. Its insides were empty, devoid of the evening's loot.
"How?" he demanded, to a loud laughter from the silhouette.
"Well, Jack, that is just the question these folks would ask themselves once you were through with your little trick. As you can see, I have some tricks of my own too. It will take you time to be able to stop someone else's time, but, evidently, it is in any case possible. You may, just like these people, go home in the bliss of ignorance, of course, although I would advise against it."
Jack could hardly believe it, and his increased heartbeat seemed to reverberate across the acoustic room. Strange, terrifying thoughts were now occurring to him: not only was there someone else immune to his universal freeze, he was apparently able to fall prey to that someone's identical powers.
"I'm not alone, Jack. It took us some time to find you. You're quite good at this. But we're better. Morally better, too. We're not keen on petty theft and secret spying. We like to be a little help; the seemingly random chances and fortunate events which stop greater evils from stepping forth into the cruel timeline of the world. We're the ones who push you safely away from oncoming traffic, the ones who take fingers away from triggers and buttons, who unlock doors and clear ways. The invisible fate who helps the world. Who tries, at least. And we'd like your help, Jack. We need it." The figure moved further inside the room. Their whole body was now awash in the golden light of the producers logo. A hand was extended, approaching him.
"Of course, you could say no. You could refuse and continue with your career of reproachable intermissions. We would still find you, of course, and stop you every time. And time is precious in our activities, you know that. So don't waste ours; and most importantly, don't waste yours. You have five seconds to decide."
Jack gulped. Reluctantly, he tried to analyse his options. There was little he knew of this figure, the one unaffected by his particular powers. But there was also little choice available to him, and no possibility of freezing an already frozen room to consider the offer. Heartbeat now as intense as the same artillery fire he had heard, he tried to stop the room like the figure had done to him, but to no avail. The silhouette still moved and got closer. Sometimes, he thought, there was no time to stop.
"Time's up," they said.
The only thing he could do was go back to how he used to solve these problems, in a past now infinitely distant, before noticing his extraordinary powers. Trust your instincts, he thought. And he saw himself rise with an extended hand over the golden room, heart beating with the same precision and calmness of a perpetual clock.
******
*/r/Camberlot* | |
[WP] After numerous rejections, you tell the object of your affection that you would do anything for him/her. He/she responds with, “stop time for me”. You do. | Every man has a she.
I met mine 6 years ago, and I still remember the day like it was yesterday. This story, however, isn’t about the day we first met. It’s about the time I fell in love with her all over again.
Had Jen managed to get my americano right the first time, we probably would have never seen each other again.
I glanced down at my wrist as she poured the dark roast into the sink — it was 7:04, I still had a few minutes to catch the bus. Though I was cutting it close, I needed my morning caffeine if I were to have any hopes of being even marginally productive for the rest of the day.
I watched her grab a new cup and fill it up to the brim with a diluted espresso. *I wonder what happened to the regular girl.*
“I have a grande americano for Christopher,” she said while sliding the open cup across the bar. I forgot to thank her, focusing instead on not spilling the scolding coffee. I grabbed a lid, and checked my watch again – 7:06. *Shit*
The second I stepped outside, I watched my bus pull out of the stop and turn the corner.
*Fuck.* The RV1 to Lavington Street was always a few minutes late, but today it arrived precisely on time and was back en route a minute later.
I was already on thin ice with Jacob, so if were late today he’d probably have my job. I slowly made my way to the plastic bench next to the bus stop and called an Uber. After a few taps, Isaac and his beige Corolla were 8 minutes away.
I spent the next few minutes scrolling through the NYT feed – ‘North Korean Leader Talks of Military Superiority,’ Warnings Cited in Curbing Toll of More than 100 Tornadoes,’ ‘Hunger Games has Another Big Weekend.’ *What bullshit.* I closed the app and decided I had time for a quick smoke. Before I could pull out a cig, I noticed her a few feet away.
I could never forget her face. She was even more beautiful than I remembered. Not beautiful like like most attractive girls are, no. She was more beautiful than a Jackson Pollock painting is chaotic. She was intoxicating. When she entered a room, all lights dimmed and noise ceased. All eyes followed her figure and breathing was halted until your body forced you to inhale again. The shape of her blood-red lips would have you contemplating selling your soul for a quick peck on the cheek.
“Chris?” She turned her head and began walking towards me. “I can’t believe it’s really you.”
“Alice?” I tried my best to calm down and pretend I wasn’t about to throw up.
“Oh my god. What are you doing in London?“ She leaned in for a hug. Though she pulled away almost immediately, it felt like our bodies were intervened since the start of eternity.
“I work at Abbott Mead, few minutes from here.”
“Amazing, you actually continued in marketing?” Or that’s what I think she said, I could hardly hear her over the sound of my heartbeat palpitating through my entire body.
“Yes.” I felt my mouth go dry and my throat begin to tighten. I don’t think I could have said another word.
She smiled, scrunching her nose, like she always had.
Alice Greene, she was the one that got away. Well, I never really had her to begin with, to be honest. But we studied together at Brown, and spent many late nights working on decks and mock pitches.
“That’s awesome! I wasn’t sure what happened to you, you didn’t show up to our last final or graduation. I don’t think anyone heard from you since.”
“Yeah, my grandfather fell ill and I moved back here to take care of him right after our Risk Management exam,” I lied.
I couldn’t tell if she was fucking with me, or if she still didn’t understand why I had left. After finishing that exam, Alice and I, and a few others, went down to King’s for a few celebratory beers.
I must’ve had one too many, because that night I somehow found the words to tell her how I had really felt. She said she loved me too, but we both knew that we meant very different things.
We were friends. Best friends, actually. We confined in each other. She was my pillar, and I her rock. She would vent about her guy problems, and I would always be there to build her back up again. It was always surreal to me that she didn’t understand just how perfect she was. And with every new guy she talked to I lost another piece of myself.
That night I realized that I had nothing left to lose, so I went for it. When she said that she loved me too, I realized that I was wrong. I lost whatever was left of myself, and began spiralling into darkness. I missed every interview I had on my schedule, I couldn’t eat, *fuck* – I think I didn’t shower for a week after coming home that night. I knew that we would never be together, and I didn’t want to live without her.
Though I didn’t try to kill myself, I came very close. Since we usually studied at my place, everything reminded me of her. I couldn’t take it, but I was too much of a pussy to actually go through with it. And in order to preserve any sanity I had left, I bought a one way ticket to Heathrow, and spent the last half decade trying my best to forget about her.
“I had no idea, I’m so sorry,” she said, bringing me out of my trance.
“It’s alright. What are you doing here? I thought you planned on accepting that job in New York.”
“I did. I worked at Conde Nast for three years, and eventually became a head of accounts…”
I wasn’t surprised. Alice would aways get whatever she wanted. She continued talking about her life after graduation, but I didn’t hear any of the words words coming out of her mouth. I couldn’t stop staring into her eyes. Her gaze was like being kissed by fire, dangerous and exhilarating. Unmatched by any other feeling a human is capable of experiencing.
“I love you.” The words just fell out of my mouth, I couldn’t stop them. Alice paused, and her eyes focused on mine. “What?”
“I love you.” Fuck. My brain was commanding my body without my consent, I was helpless.
“Chris,” she paused. I felt the panic set in. What the fuck am I doing. “I haven’t seen you in years —“
“I know,” I tried to laugh. “I just remembered that night at King’s when I told you I loved you.”
She smiled. “That was sweet, but you knew I was with Mitch then. Plus you we’re completely wasted. I didn’t think you were being serious.”
*Bullshit.*
“I might have been drunk, but we both know I meant what I said. I *would* have done anything for you.” I laughed. Genuinely, this time. I finally started to realize how ridiculous this entire situation was. We haven’t spoken in years, and here I am professing my love for her all over again, like no time had passed at all.
“You’re being dramatic. We we’re just kids.”
“Maybe, but it’s true. I was crazy about you.” It felt good to finally be so open with her.
She was about to say something, but we were interrupted by a beige Corolla. “Christopher? Are you going to Waterloo Station?”
I checked my watch – 7:14. Over the last 5 minutes I had completely forgotten about my job, Jacob, or Isaac’s shitty Corolla.
“I gotta go.”
“Chris, wait,” she said as I grabbed the door handle. “Do you wanna get a coffee or something, I’m here till Monday. We should catch up.”
I looked back at her, and realized that it was impossible to say no. God she was perfect. I wished she could see what I see when I look into her hazel eyes.
“Christopher, your tab is running.”
“Hold on Isaac.” I turned away from the driver, ready to risk another decade of emotional unrest for 20 minutes with her.
“Sure Alice, let me know when.”
She smiled, her nose scrunched and she got those cute wrinkles under under her eyes. I matched her gaze, and it was like we were alone together.
“We should go now,” she said.
I laughed, “I have to get to work, but how about after 5 tonight?”
“What are you talking about, silly. Let’s go, the bar is closing, and we got Brophy’s final in like 8 hours. Plus you should definitely get some sleep.”
| The world stopped, just as the woman had said it would.
I strode into the palace courtyard and began to weave through the suitors. Most were tall and handsome, dressed in priceless silk clothing and coated in perfume. Gemstones had been tied at the ends of their groomed beards and golden rings hung from their ears. They had been caught in mid-conversation, their mouths crooked in a bold smile, open in the midst of a rich laugh or pressed against a sparkling glass of wine.
They were princes from faraway lands gathered by the Sultan to take the hand of the princess. A single ring on a single one of their fingers was worth more than I could make in twenty lifetimes. But I had what money could not buy - *freedom*. By the time the spell ended, we would be far away from the oasis. More importantly, we would be together.
A pair of frozen servants held the gilded palace doors open for me, obviously expecting my triumphant return. They had laughed at me for years, periodically allowing me to enter just to be thrown out by the Sultan’s bearish guards. I had eventually learned how to slip past them, through the throne room, and into the royal corridors in the palace’s heart.
It was there my feet led me, gliding across the crimson carpet without fear. The guards stood to either side of the throne with their spears pointed toward the mosaic above. The spell had caught the Sultan blowing his nose on a silk cloth. I thought about having a bit of fun, but time was short. Soon, the enchantment would fail.
With that thought in mind, I began to run, gliding past the guards and into the quiet residential halls. I reached her room and found my heart racing. Taking a calming breath, I straightened my hair and, for the hundredth time, practiced what I would say.
Then, I stepped inside and forgot every word.
Time had been frozen.
She had been to.
| |
[WP] After numerous rejections, you tell the object of your affection that you would do anything for him/her. He/she responds with, “stop time for me”. You do. | Carrie was the only one Cal had ever cared for and he was quite apt to make the pun just as Carrie was prone to roll her eyes. They had met in Sociology, Professor Stephen Glum's class.
It was seven thirty in the morning and Cal was never one for those light and fluffy and should-be-sleeping-before-noon hours, but he never missed a class (at least once he saw Carrie, so hitherto he missed four). Every morning, Carrie was beautiful. Well, maybe not beautiful. Not how I would describe her, no, but pretty... Er, maybe, easy on the eyes, at the very least, or... How about... She had her days! And this day was such one of those *very few* and *very far* between days that Cal truly took exception to her.
Carrie's stringy black hair was greased up into a static bun and her lazy eye was wasn't so lazy today. She looked approachable.
Cal thought, Today's the day Calbert. Today's the day you profess your love and tell her she's the most wonderful woman you ever laid eyes on! And ask her her name, too. Should probably know that.
Professor Glum droned on, 'Subjectivity is an individual's interpretation and attachment to the objective, where as objectivity would be the general attached value by a certain larger, more public, population. For instance, western society's definition of beauty might starkly contrast an individual's of its populace. Why, someone, some very wrong someone, might think Carrie was beautiful.'
The class raucously laughed.
Cal thought with a dreamy grin, Carrie, her name is Carrie.
After the several renewed waves of laughter at Carrie's expense died down, Professor Glum caught sight of the clock and said, 'Oh my, fifteen minutes? Whew. Okay, that's all we have time for today. Dismissed.'
Cal met Carrie in the hallway as a handsome fellow held the door for a succession of ladies, who then abruptly cut off Carrie before she got the wrong idea and slammed the door in fright. Carrie fought with the heavy door and Cal thought, This is your moment, Calbert-boy. He puffed out his already puffy (though flabby) chest and said, 'Might I be of some assistance, m'lady?' and Cal heaved on the heavy door. To no effect. But, with their combined and exhaustive effort, Carrie and Cal opened the door and exited the building into the morning rays of sunshine and melodious tunes of robins and jays. Cal panted, bent over. Carrie sat down. The freshmen nonchalantly entered and exited the building at their leisure.
Cal continued to pant, 'The name's... Calbert.'
'Calbert?'
'Or Cal,' he said and stood straight. 'And you are Carrie. Wanna know how I know? It's because you are the only-'
'Because Professor Glum and the whole class made fun of me.'
Cal made a face. His pun will have to wait. 'Screw them. I think we should be friends.'
'No,' Carrie said and made to stand but couldn't so she stretched instead.
'Come on, you'll like me. I know we were made for each other.'
'Made for each other?'
'Well, maybe that's a bit strong. What can I do to prove this to you?'
'I dunno. Stop time.'
Calbert thought a moment. He thought some more. Then, when Carrie seemed to grow impatient, he hummed, then said,
'To stop time, you say.
It's the easiest thing to do
when I only need one thing - me and you.'
'That's two things. Wait. Are you singing?'
'Let the world have the birds and bees
Let them have rainbows and runway models
Let them have lipstick, cleft chins, and pecs.
'Cause with all things considered, Carrie,
you are the only thing worth Caring for.'
Cal bent Carrie over and labored to support her over his leg and gave her a kiss and thee whole world seemed to stop and watch. The birds went silent, the sun stopped shining, and the world revolted. Cal and Carrie were happy.
--------------
okay, coffee shoppe is closing. This will have to do. | Souls intertwined, eyes dancing, we stood in beautiful harmony. My fingers sifted through hers, the touch of her skin more a drug than the strongest intoxicant.
Her lips, delicate, immaculate, relayed the words to me. Her voice danced on the wind, pure and tender. Carried by the angels themselves.
"Stop time for me," she whispered in my ear, a tingle running down my spine.
So I shot her.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
/r/ShittyStoryCreator :) | |
[WP] After numerous rejections, you tell the object of your affection that you would do anything for him/her. He/she responds with, “stop time for me”. You do. | Every man has a she.
I met mine 6 years ago, and I still remember the day like it was yesterday. This story, however, isn’t about the day we first met. It’s about the time I fell in love with her all over again.
Had Jen managed to get my americano right the first time, we probably would have never seen each other again.
I glanced down at my wrist as she poured the dark roast into the sink — it was 7:04, I still had a few minutes to catch the bus. Though I was cutting it close, I needed my morning caffeine if I were to have any hopes of being even marginally productive for the rest of the day.
I watched her grab a new cup and fill it up to the brim with a diluted espresso. *I wonder what happened to the regular girl.*
“I have a grande americano for Christopher,” she said while sliding the open cup across the bar. I forgot to thank her, focusing instead on not spilling the scolding coffee. I grabbed a lid, and checked my watch again – 7:06. *Shit*
The second I stepped outside, I watched my bus pull out of the stop and turn the corner.
*Fuck.* The RV1 to Lavington Street was always a few minutes late, but today it arrived precisely on time and was back en route a minute later.
I was already on thin ice with Jacob, so if were late today he’d probably have my job. I slowly made my way to the plastic bench next to the bus stop and called an Uber. After a few taps, Isaac and his beige Corolla were 8 minutes away.
I spent the next few minutes scrolling through the NYT feed – ‘North Korean Leader Talks of Military Superiority,’ Warnings Cited in Curbing Toll of More than 100 Tornadoes,’ ‘Hunger Games has Another Big Weekend.’ *What bullshit.* I closed the app and decided I had time for a quick smoke. Before I could pull out a cig, I noticed her a few feet away.
I could never forget her face. She was even more beautiful than I remembered. Not beautiful like like most attractive girls are, no. She was more beautiful than a Jackson Pollock painting is chaotic. She was intoxicating. When she entered a room, all lights dimmed and noise ceased. All eyes followed her figure and breathing was halted until your body forced you to inhale again. The shape of her blood-red lips would have you contemplating selling your soul for a quick peck on the cheek.
“Chris?” She turned her head and began walking towards me. “I can’t believe it’s really you.”
“Alice?” I tried my best to calm down and pretend I wasn’t about to throw up.
“Oh my god. What are you doing in London?“ She leaned in for a hug. Though she pulled away almost immediately, it felt like our bodies were intervened since the start of eternity.
“I work at Abbott Mead, few minutes from here.”
“Amazing, you actually continued in marketing?” Or that’s what I think she said, I could hardly hear her over the sound of my heartbeat palpitating through my entire body.
“Yes.” I felt my mouth go dry and my throat begin to tighten. I don’t think I could have said another word.
She smiled, scrunching her nose, like she always had.
Alice Greene, she was the one that got away. Well, I never really had her to begin with, to be honest. But we studied together at Brown, and spent many late nights working on decks and mock pitches.
“That’s awesome! I wasn’t sure what happened to you, you didn’t show up to our last final or graduation. I don’t think anyone heard from you since.”
“Yeah, my grandfather fell ill and I moved back here to take care of him right after our Risk Management exam,” I lied.
I couldn’t tell if she was fucking with me, or if she still didn’t understand why I had left. After finishing that exam, Alice and I, and a few others, went down to King’s for a few celebratory beers.
I must’ve had one too many, because that night I somehow found the words to tell her how I had really felt. She said she loved me too, but we both knew that we meant very different things.
We were friends. Best friends, actually. We confined in each other. She was my pillar, and I her rock. She would vent about her guy problems, and I would always be there to build her back up again. It was always surreal to me that she didn’t understand just how perfect she was. And with every new guy she talked to I lost another piece of myself.
That night I realized that I had nothing left to lose, so I went for it. When she said that she loved me too, I realized that I was wrong. I lost whatever was left of myself, and began spiralling into darkness. I missed every interview I had on my schedule, I couldn’t eat, *fuck* – I think I didn’t shower for a week after coming home that night. I knew that we would never be together, and I didn’t want to live without her.
Though I didn’t try to kill myself, I came very close. Since we usually studied at my place, everything reminded me of her. I couldn’t take it, but I was too much of a pussy to actually go through with it. And in order to preserve any sanity I had left, I bought a one way ticket to Heathrow, and spent the last half decade trying my best to forget about her.
“I had no idea, I’m so sorry,” she said, bringing me out of my trance.
“It’s alright. What are you doing here? I thought you planned on accepting that job in New York.”
“I did. I worked at Conde Nast for three years, and eventually became a head of accounts…”
I wasn’t surprised. Alice would aways get whatever she wanted. She continued talking about her life after graduation, but I didn’t hear any of the words words coming out of her mouth. I couldn’t stop staring into her eyes. Her gaze was like being kissed by fire, dangerous and exhilarating. Unmatched by any other feeling a human is capable of experiencing.
“I love you.” The words just fell out of my mouth, I couldn’t stop them. Alice paused, and her eyes focused on mine. “What?”
“I love you.” Fuck. My brain was commanding my body without my consent, I was helpless.
“Chris,” she paused. I felt the panic set in. What the fuck am I doing. “I haven’t seen you in years —“
“I know,” I tried to laugh. “I just remembered that night at King’s when I told you I loved you.”
She smiled. “That was sweet, but you knew I was with Mitch then. Plus you we’re completely wasted. I didn’t think you were being serious.”
*Bullshit.*
“I might have been drunk, but we both know I meant what I said. I *would* have done anything for you.” I laughed. Genuinely, this time. I finally started to realize how ridiculous this entire situation was. We haven’t spoken in years, and here I am professing my love for her all over again, like no time had passed at all.
“You’re being dramatic. We we’re just kids.”
“Maybe, but it’s true. I was crazy about you.” It felt good to finally be so open with her.
She was about to say something, but we were interrupted by a beige Corolla. “Christopher? Are you going to Waterloo Station?”
I checked my watch – 7:14. Over the last 5 minutes I had completely forgotten about my job, Jacob, or Isaac’s shitty Corolla.
“I gotta go.”
“Chris, wait,” she said as I grabbed the door handle. “Do you wanna get a coffee or something, I’m here till Monday. We should catch up.”
I looked back at her, and realized that it was impossible to say no. God she was perfect. I wished she could see what I see when I look into her hazel eyes.
“Christopher, your tab is running.”
“Hold on Isaac.” I turned away from the driver, ready to risk another decade of emotional unrest for 20 minutes with her.
“Sure Alice, let me know when.”
She smiled, her nose scrunched and she got those cute wrinkles under under her eyes. I matched her gaze, and it was like we were alone together.
“We should go now,” she said.
I laughed, “I have to get to work, but how about after 5 tonight?”
“What are you talking about, silly. Let’s go, the bar is closing, and we got Brophy’s final in like 8 hours. Plus you should definitely get some sleep.”
| Souls intertwined, eyes dancing, we stood in beautiful harmony. My fingers sifted through hers, the touch of her skin more a drug than the strongest intoxicant.
Her lips, delicate, immaculate, relayed the words to me. Her voice danced on the wind, pure and tender. Carried by the angels themselves.
"Stop time for me," she whispered in my ear, a tingle running down my spine.
So I shot her.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
/r/ShittyStoryCreator :) | |
[WP] After numerous rejections, you tell the object of your affection that you would do anything for him/her. He/she responds with, “stop time for me”. You do. | Every man has a she.
I met mine 6 years ago, and I still remember the day like it was yesterday. This story, however, isn’t about the day we first met. It’s about the time I fell in love with her all over again.
Had Jen managed to get my americano right the first time, we probably would have never seen each other again.
I glanced down at my wrist as she poured the dark roast into the sink — it was 7:04, I still had a few minutes to catch the bus. Though I was cutting it close, I needed my morning caffeine if I were to have any hopes of being even marginally productive for the rest of the day.
I watched her grab a new cup and fill it up to the brim with a diluted espresso. *I wonder what happened to the regular girl.*
“I have a grande americano for Christopher,” she said while sliding the open cup across the bar. I forgot to thank her, focusing instead on not spilling the scolding coffee. I grabbed a lid, and checked my watch again – 7:06. *Shit*
The second I stepped outside, I watched my bus pull out of the stop and turn the corner.
*Fuck.* The RV1 to Lavington Street was always a few minutes late, but today it arrived precisely on time and was back en route a minute later.
I was already on thin ice with Jacob, so if were late today he’d probably have my job. I slowly made my way to the plastic bench next to the bus stop and called an Uber. After a few taps, Isaac and his beige Corolla were 8 minutes away.
I spent the next few minutes scrolling through the NYT feed – ‘North Korean Leader Talks of Military Superiority,’ Warnings Cited in Curbing Toll of More than 100 Tornadoes,’ ‘Hunger Games has Another Big Weekend.’ *What bullshit.* I closed the app and decided I had time for a quick smoke. Before I could pull out a cig, I noticed her a few feet away.
I could never forget her face. She was even more beautiful than I remembered. Not beautiful like like most attractive girls are, no. She was more beautiful than a Jackson Pollock painting is chaotic. She was intoxicating. When she entered a room, all lights dimmed and noise ceased. All eyes followed her figure and breathing was halted until your body forced you to inhale again. The shape of her blood-red lips would have you contemplating selling your soul for a quick peck on the cheek.
“Chris?” She turned her head and began walking towards me. “I can’t believe it’s really you.”
“Alice?” I tried my best to calm down and pretend I wasn’t about to throw up.
“Oh my god. What are you doing in London?“ She leaned in for a hug. Though she pulled away almost immediately, it felt like our bodies were intervened since the start of eternity.
“I work at Abbott Mead, few minutes from here.”
“Amazing, you actually continued in marketing?” Or that’s what I think she said, I could hardly hear her over the sound of my heartbeat palpitating through my entire body.
“Yes.” I felt my mouth go dry and my throat begin to tighten. I don’t think I could have said another word.
She smiled, scrunching her nose, like she always had.
Alice Greene, she was the one that got away. Well, I never really had her to begin with, to be honest. But we studied together at Brown, and spent many late nights working on decks and mock pitches.
“That’s awesome! I wasn’t sure what happened to you, you didn’t show up to our last final or graduation. I don’t think anyone heard from you since.”
“Yeah, my grandfather fell ill and I moved back here to take care of him right after our Risk Management exam,” I lied.
I couldn’t tell if she was fucking with me, or if she still didn’t understand why I had left. After finishing that exam, Alice and I, and a few others, went down to King’s for a few celebratory beers.
I must’ve had one too many, because that night I somehow found the words to tell her how I had really felt. She said she loved me too, but we both knew that we meant very different things.
We were friends. Best friends, actually. We confined in each other. She was my pillar, and I her rock. She would vent about her guy problems, and I would always be there to build her back up again. It was always surreal to me that she didn’t understand just how perfect she was. And with every new guy she talked to I lost another piece of myself.
That night I realized that I had nothing left to lose, so I went for it. When she said that she loved me too, I realized that I was wrong. I lost whatever was left of myself, and began spiralling into darkness. I missed every interview I had on my schedule, I couldn’t eat, *fuck* – I think I didn’t shower for a week after coming home that night. I knew that we would never be together, and I didn’t want to live without her.
Though I didn’t try to kill myself, I came very close. Since we usually studied at my place, everything reminded me of her. I couldn’t take it, but I was too much of a pussy to actually go through with it. And in order to preserve any sanity I had left, I bought a one way ticket to Heathrow, and spent the last half decade trying my best to forget about her.
“I had no idea, I’m so sorry,” she said, bringing me out of my trance.
“It’s alright. What are you doing here? I thought you planned on accepting that job in New York.”
“I did. I worked at Conde Nast for three years, and eventually became a head of accounts…”
I wasn’t surprised. Alice would aways get whatever she wanted. She continued talking about her life after graduation, but I didn’t hear any of the words words coming out of her mouth. I couldn’t stop staring into her eyes. Her gaze was like being kissed by fire, dangerous and exhilarating. Unmatched by any other feeling a human is capable of experiencing.
“I love you.” The words just fell out of my mouth, I couldn’t stop them. Alice paused, and her eyes focused on mine. “What?”
“I love you.” Fuck. My brain was commanding my body without my consent, I was helpless.
“Chris,” she paused. I felt the panic set in. What the fuck am I doing. “I haven’t seen you in years —“
“I know,” I tried to laugh. “I just remembered that night at King’s when I told you I loved you.”
She smiled. “That was sweet, but you knew I was with Mitch then. Plus you we’re completely wasted. I didn’t think you were being serious.”
*Bullshit.*
“I might have been drunk, but we both know I meant what I said. I *would* have done anything for you.” I laughed. Genuinely, this time. I finally started to realize how ridiculous this entire situation was. We haven’t spoken in years, and here I am professing my love for her all over again, like no time had passed at all.
“You’re being dramatic. We we’re just kids.”
“Maybe, but it’s true. I was crazy about you.” It felt good to finally be so open with her.
She was about to say something, but we were interrupted by a beige Corolla. “Christopher? Are you going to Waterloo Station?”
I checked my watch – 7:14. Over the last 5 minutes I had completely forgotten about my job, Jacob, or Isaac’s shitty Corolla.
“I gotta go.”
“Chris, wait,” she said as I grabbed the door handle. “Do you wanna get a coffee or something, I’m here till Monday. We should catch up.”
I looked back at her, and realized that it was impossible to say no. God she was perfect. I wished she could see what I see when I look into her hazel eyes.
“Christopher, your tab is running.”
“Hold on Isaac.” I turned away from the driver, ready to risk another decade of emotional unrest for 20 minutes with her.
“Sure Alice, let me know when.”
She smiled, her nose scrunched and she got those cute wrinkles under under her eyes. I matched her gaze, and it was like we were alone together.
“We should go now,” she said.
I laughed, “I have to get to work, but how about after 5 tonight?”
“What are you talking about, silly. Let’s go, the bar is closing, and we got Brophy’s final in like 8 hours. Plus you should definitely get some sleep.”
| Carrie was the only one Cal had ever cared for and he was quite apt to make the pun just as Carrie was prone to roll her eyes. They had met in Sociology, Professor Stephen Glum's class.
It was seven thirty in the morning and Cal was never one for those light and fluffy and should-be-sleeping-before-noon hours, but he never missed a class (at least once he saw Carrie, so hitherto he missed four). Every morning, Carrie was beautiful. Well, maybe not beautiful. Not how I would describe her, no, but pretty... Er, maybe, easy on the eyes, at the very least, or... How about... She had her days! And this day was such one of those *very few* and *very far* between days that Cal truly took exception to her.
Carrie's stringy black hair was greased up into a static bun and her lazy eye was wasn't so lazy today. She looked approachable.
Cal thought, Today's the day Calbert. Today's the day you profess your love and tell her she's the most wonderful woman you ever laid eyes on! And ask her her name, too. Should probably know that.
Professor Glum droned on, 'Subjectivity is an individual's interpretation and attachment to the objective, where as objectivity would be the general attached value by a certain larger, more public, population. For instance, western society's definition of beauty might starkly contrast an individual's of its populace. Why, someone, some very wrong someone, might think Carrie was beautiful.'
The class raucously laughed.
Cal thought with a dreamy grin, Carrie, her name is Carrie.
After the several renewed waves of laughter at Carrie's expense died down, Professor Glum caught sight of the clock and said, 'Oh my, fifteen minutes? Whew. Okay, that's all we have time for today. Dismissed.'
Cal met Carrie in the hallway as a handsome fellow held the door for a succession of ladies, who then abruptly cut off Carrie before she got the wrong idea and slammed the door in fright. Carrie fought with the heavy door and Cal thought, This is your moment, Calbert-boy. He puffed out his already puffy (though flabby) chest and said, 'Might I be of some assistance, m'lady?' and Cal heaved on the heavy door. To no effect. But, with their combined and exhaustive effort, Carrie and Cal opened the door and exited the building into the morning rays of sunshine and melodious tunes of robins and jays. Cal panted, bent over. Carrie sat down. The freshmen nonchalantly entered and exited the building at their leisure.
Cal continued to pant, 'The name's... Calbert.'
'Calbert?'
'Or Cal,' he said and stood straight. 'And you are Carrie. Wanna know how I know? It's because you are the only-'
'Because Professor Glum and the whole class made fun of me.'
Cal made a face. His pun will have to wait. 'Screw them. I think we should be friends.'
'No,' Carrie said and made to stand but couldn't so she stretched instead.
'Come on, you'll like me. I know we were made for each other.'
'Made for each other?'
'Well, maybe that's a bit strong. What can I do to prove this to you?'
'I dunno. Stop time.'
Calbert thought a moment. He thought some more. Then, when Carrie seemed to grow impatient, he hummed, then said,
'To stop time, you say.
It's the easiest thing to do
when I only need one thing - me and you.'
'That's two things. Wait. Are you singing?'
'Let the world have the birds and bees
Let them have rainbows and runway models
Let them have lipstick, cleft chins, and pecs.
'Cause with all things considered, Carrie,
you are the only thing worth Caring for.'
Cal bent Carrie over and labored to support her over his leg and gave her a kiss and thee whole world seemed to stop and watch. The birds went silent, the sun stopped shining, and the world revolted. Cal and Carrie were happy.
--------------
okay, coffee shoppe is closing. This will have to do. | |
[WP] They dug the deepest hole in the history of Mankind. What they found at the bottom was not rock, not magma, but flesh. Living, pulsing flesh. | It had been attempted before, the Chinese hit 50 kilometers, the Russians 75. But today, at precisely 100 kilometers, the Americans made a discovery that would sent waves of panic across the planet. A ceremony had been organized, and world leaders surrounded the massive drilling platform, watching hot sludge spew from the borehole. As the mud suddenly changed from brown to crimson, a familiar metallic scent filled the surrounding air. The searing blood rained across the audience and congealed wherever it landed, and the terror became palpable.
After handling the initial fiasco, the United States assembled a task force consisting of elite soldiers, bio-hazard specialists, and the world's leading academics. Descent seemed to be eternal, no doubt made worse by the sweltering crew compartment of the modified submersible. Hours dripped by and the heat became nearly unbearable, forcing the team members to don their reflective Mylar suits. Through the narrow porthole facing the void below, a sea of gore became suddenly visible. The submersible, although designed for a less viscous setting, steadily drudged through the biological matter until an abrupt stop on an unseen surface. A biologist on board the vessel hurriedly took readings of the surrounding area, when his expression changed to one of dread. The instruments on the ship flickered measurements over the screen, making it apparent that the landing zone was temperate enough to forgo protective gear. In fact, just outside the pod, it was 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit.
Of every scientific discovery in the history of mankind, none changed the world to nearly the same degree. Religious zealots feverishly worshiped the Living Earth, committing heinous acts against mankind in the sake of her protection. Eyes that had once been turned towards the cosmos now peered downwards, and funding increased across all of civilization for terrestrial exploration. A golden age swept humanity as we plunged even deeper into the enigma underfoot. Caught up in the mayhem, few had noticed the strange feeling in the air. Those who did were marginalized and deemed insane. The feeling of our planet had changed, it no longer felt welcoming. Nobody had realized that She was hibernating, anticipating a natural paradise to have bloomed on Her surface. What She saw filled Her with rage. Smog smothering Her skin, drills greedily consuming Her blood, and mankind destroying Her out of nothing but self-interest. Who could've guessed that mass extinction was a choice? | It wasn't easy intergrating into Australia as a 14 year old boy from India.
I was teased constantly for smelling like my fathers cooking and got called taxi for the rest of my school life.
That name stuck. My few friends that I had, once finishing school called me it aswell but by that time I had gotten over it. Everyone else knew me by my real name, Jaya.
I'm now 26 and work as a geologist for a company called "Terģai international".
As I have done everyday for the last 3 weeks I woke up today and checked my e-mails before having the chance to even make my coffee.
Todays the day I finally recieved what i was waiting for.
The e-mail had plane tickets attached for Israel and was to leave October 15th, 3:40 am, two days from now.
Excited and nervous I drive to work, skipping breakfast. I'll just get something from the cafe down stairs today.
"Jaya" I hear from across the lobby. It was my work mate Fabian. "Did you get the", "yes" I interupt. "You know I've been checking my e-mails first thing each morning!"
We both make our way to the briefing in the common room.
"I know you have all been patient to hear about the upcoming project and can see that you are all excited to have recieved your plane tickets."
The project director and COO of the company Francis Graves exclaimed.
"But this morning I will need your full attention!"
As if we were not already listening eagerly..
"Four months ago there was a disruption in our satalite caused by an unexplained seismic event. We will be sending a team over to explore the mine in Hebron just south of Isreal where we have word that it was traced back to"
He said with great control in his voice, yet his face posed a thousand questions.
I had left to go home to pack and do my research. I found that in 2021 3 years ago Hebron had surpassed the worlds deepest mine in Johannesburg being 6.7 km deep (4.1 miles) by a company called Dis'kəvər (Hebrew for discover) which is now 11.4 km (7 miles) deep. Dis'kəvər was an animus apertusian company.
I found that animus apertusian was a religion dating back to 1300 bc and was the belief that all religion held some truth but has been misinterpreted through the simple mindness of man. Animus apertus is latin for open mind.
In other words this religion is somewhat of a small society of scholars trying to connect the dots of religion and humanity.
It is now October 16th and I am on a bus from Ben Gurion airport in Israel to Hebron.
It has been just short of three hours on the bus when our team finally makes it up to the top of the mine.
Fabian has not said a word the whole drive except for making a joke that there was no diverence between the Animus apertusians to which I had informed him about and myself being a Hindu.
When I was a young boy still living in Delhi, India my mother would tell me stories of Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva the trinity of Hinduism and how modern Christianity was just a poor explenation for the south Asian truth.
Unfortunately my mother named Prith died in a earthquake two years before moving to Sydney Australia.
Once we had exited the bus we were met by some scientists who would lead us to the large steel caged elevator which was about 4x6 meters long. I was there informed that Francis Graves who I have only spoken to twice had requested that I go to the bottom while the others do there research 8 k.m in.
The lights that filled this gaping whole exposed a cave like workspace where the elevator came to a halt.
Fabian looks at me like I'm some bastard that betrayed him as he hops off.
The scientist that seems to be superior out of the three, Professor Carlon turns to me with great curiosity.
"Jaya, we have found something."
They all look at me as if I'm some mysterious man hidding a million secrets.
"3 months ago we found an enormous pyrite cube, which in itself is hard enough to believe but what im telling you will reveal itself to be true."
I feel interrogated even though I am not being asked questions. There eyes pierce mine and my fingers twitch with anticipation.
"Enscribed on the cube is 'aakaash ke tairgai pita ke jaya'"
I laugh "Jaya of Terģai father of the sky?"
"Yes" says Professor Carlon with a dead straight face.
Before I get the chance to ask any questions the elevator comes to it's final destination.
Blinding floodlights face the giant pyrite cube standing like a cliff with those rediculous words written on it 'aakaash ke tairgai pita ke jaya'.
I drop my bag and with every question I had leaving my mind I walk up to it.
I can hear my own heart beat as I walk.
As i come within 10 or so feet of it i realise what i thought was my heart beat was actually the pyrites.
The lights darken, Professor Carlon and the other scientists fade out of my sight and I hear the words in my mothers voice "I have missed you Dyaus Pita"
Dyaus Pita in hinduism is Father sky.
I touch the cube and fall.
I see a flash back of when my mother fell into the earthquake followed by an intense purple light. I dont remember seeing that light when it happened all those years ago but as clear as day I see that the purple light was her essence and the transition of her human body reincarnating.
Everything goes black.
"Jaya Dyaus it is me"
I hear in my mothers voice
"Prithvi Mata"
A blue light not only flashes all around me but within in me.
I now look down that mine from 480 km high but can now see mother earths heart.
My mother used to tell me stories of reincarnation and how I must do good in my life. I grew up a Hindu and reincarnated as a Animus apertusian.
It is now I realise that I am a god just as she is.
Mother earth and father sky.
|
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