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[WP] A supervillain and superhero discover that their children are dating each other. | The Guardian was intrigued. An invitation sent to the Sentinel Tower from the Berserker? For a peaceful talk?
If it hadn't been for it including the name of her daughter as the first letter of each row, she would have brought all the Sentinels in with her to try to capture Berserker, the one villain they hadn't managed to put away once. Thankfully she was the only one that liked riddles and codes. She wasn't judging, but she was the only one that really thought things through among the Sentinels. If they had figured it out they would have wanted to charge in guns blazing.
It wasn't like Miss Incredible would ever stop to think before throwing a bus at Berserker, hadn't he shown that blunt force trauma just made him fight better every single time they fought him? But ever single time they fought him, without fail, Miss Incredible would find something large and heavy to wack the Berserker with.
Bunch of super powered idiots. But at least they were her idiots, Miss Incredible thought fondly.
------------
"Show yourself Berserker. Its late and I'd like to actually get to sleep at a decent hour."
"Tch, don't you like to enjoy life Guardian? Or should I say Shelby?"
"Yeah, yeah, its not like I don't know your secret identity either Conor Mcgregor. So what's the deal with using my daughter's name? I thought we agreed to keep the kids out of this."
"Well... that was before Junior decided that he liked young Sarah and asked her out."
"You're joking."
"Have you ever seen me joke? I mean I have a great one about a Rabbi, an Imam and a Priest walking into a bar..."
"Wait... so you called me out here to talk about our kids? No plot to rob a bank or take over a third world nation?"
Conor shrugged, "Hey, I just wanted to clear the air. Neither of us wants to involve the families in our tussles. How do you think you'd have reacted if your daughter randomly said she was going over to my house for dinner?"
"... I probably would have torn apart your whole neighborhood and tried to kill you."
"Exactly."
The Guardian sighed as she pinched her nose between her fingers. "So your son seriously asked out my daughter?"
"Yup."
"If the Sentinels find out about this I wont hear the fucking end of it."
"How do you think I feel about this? If my so called friends hear about this they'll either go behind my back and kidnap both our kids, or they'll start asking... questions... I like my mindless thugs to be mindless, thank you very much."
"Can't you just ground Junior?"
"Tch, the kid wouldn't break a rule if I told him to. Too much of his mom's good nature I suppose."
"Dammit."
"What, can't you just ground Sarah? Oh, wait, she's an even bigger goody two shoes than my boy."
"Not helping here Berserker."
"Yeah love, I know. So, want to come over for dinner this Thursday? I got some steaks to throw on the grill, and while they are cooking we can grill our kids."
"You're looking forward to this aren't you? Then again I don't have much room to talk, I've been waiting to embarrass Sarah in front of her first boyfriend sense she was 11."
"I knew there was a reason I liked you Guardian."
"Heh, ditto. I'll bring dessert, my husband makes the best Cheesecake."
-------
edit: spelling errors | The hero flew in, punching through the wall, and landed with a force that created an explosion on the ground of his nemesis’s lair. He had never been this angry.
“How dared you kidnapped my daughter!”
“I didn’t. She came here herself.” His nemesis replied.
“So you’re playing innocence now!”
“Breaking into my lair, sneaking into my child’s room. I wondered what kind of parenting she had to be this”
“Do not insult my daughter!” The hero cut him off and jumped toward him swinging his fist. The nemesis blocked it with his armored suit’s shield and returned with a punch. The hero dodged and jumped away.
“I told him there are better girls out there but he wouldn’t listen.”
“I told her to pick someone with a future! Why did she had to pick someone like him!”
They jumped toward each other crashing their fists into each other faces.
“I would make you pay for putting such a creature into my kid’s life!” said both of them as they started fighting.
| |
[WP] A supervillain and superhero discover that their children are dating each other. | “Commissioner Jorgan?”
The policewoman turned as a man in a cape dropped out of the sky to land on flexed thighs. He straightened, instinctively striking a heroic pose that put his chest and chin out, shoulders back, while he surveyed the scene. “Mortizer, thanks for coming.”
“The League’s here to help,” he said, finishing his visual sweep and locking his eyes on her. “What’s the problem?”
“Sinter and Chamess are tearing the riverside restaurant district to shreds.”
Mortizer turned and looked west. A haze of destruction hovered, clouds of pulverized concrete and other fine debris hanging in the air. Drifting slowly northwest under the prevailing wind. As he looked, an enormous crunch and smashing sound erupted that foretold of expensive property damage adding to the air pollution and ground clutter.
“Shit!” someone yelled, and emergency personnel scattered as a chunk of concrete arced down out of the air to smash into the street just short of the barriers. It hit, rolled while digging a good sized crater in the pavement, and thudded into a police cruiser hard enough to heavily dent it. Mortizer stood watching, entirely unfazed, except for one thing.
“Language,” he said sternly.
“Fuck that,” someone on the ground near the barriers muttered.
Jorgan spoke quickly when Mortizer frowned. “Anyway, we need this brought under control. Before more people get hurt.”
“What’s Sinter’s goal this time?” Mortizer asked.
“That’s just it,” Jorgan said with a sigh. “As far as we can tell, Sinter hasn’t done anything.”
“He’s facing off against Chamess,” Mortizer pointed out. “Clearly—”
“We’ve got community surveillance camera footage that shows Sintar was in disguise, having dinner.”
“Casing the place?”
“No,” the commissioner insisted. “We’ve gone over the video with a microscope. I’ve personally watched it myself, start to finish. Sinter walks in, makes polite conversation while asking for a table, takes a menu, orders braised pork loin in plum sauce and a nice ’98 chardonnay, has dinner, and was just paying the tab — in cash — when Chamess breaks through the roof and starts wailing on him.”
Mortizer’s eyes narrowed. “Have you checked the rest of the area’s video? Perhaps he is waiting for minions or villainous allies to begin some dastardly deed.”
“We’re working on that now. We’ve already figured out his path to the restaurant; he apparently landed one of his invisojets in an alley a few blocks away. But he walked the rest of the way, didn’t do anything. He even helped an old lady cross the street.”
“Sinter is devious,” the hero said. “He is always careful of his image.”
“Yeah, well, the only person we’ve got anything on is Chamess.”
“Chamess has sacrificed tirelessly for this city,” Mortizer said immediately.
“Yeah, I know,” she said. “Which is why I called you. The only person I can legally send SRS after right now is Chamess.”
Mortizer glanced at the power armored Supers Response Squad, standing in their impressive suits, clutching weapons that even a supervillain — or hero — might take notice of. “Sinter is wanted on any number of—”
“No, I checked,” she said; half patiently, and with more than a small trace of desperation. “His lawyers have gotten everything quashed or dismissed. Including the Currency Exchange thing from last month, before you ask.”
“And yet the citizens we sacrifice to protect, to defend, dare to question what use are heroes,” Mortizer said, a frown creasing his chiseled features. “You cannot stop these villains, not even when we deliver them to you, time and time again, wrapped and ready for prosecution.”
“That’s an argument for another time. Right now, I need that stopped,” she said, pointing west. “Or at least moved outside the city limits where it’s just open landscape taking the brunt of whatever they’re fighting about.”
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll have to send SRS in.”
“They will not succeed.”
“They’ll do alright,” Jorgan said defensively. “The problem’s I don’t think they’ll have any choice but to go heavy enough to make the damage worse. Not if they’re going to have a prayer of stopping the fighting.”
“I will aid my comrade,” Mortizer said firmly. “But you—”
“Commissioner!” a man called. She turned, and the hero shifted his eyes to look past her, as a slight man wearing a City Police ID card clipped to his tie ran up. He skidded to a halt, panting. Holding a tablet up that he was waving at while he tried to catch his breath.
“Spit it out Pope,” she said impatiently.
“We … we … we think we know what’s … going on.”
“Two supers are destroying four—” Jorgan began, before there was another enormous crash of a building being rubbled, “—five square blocks of my city. Talk.”
“Now,” Mortizer ordered.
Pope glanced quickly at the hero, then dragged his eyes down to the tablet. Tapping at the screen, he brought an image up, then turned the tablet around to face Jorgan and Mortizer.
“Is that—” the police commissioner began.
“—oh shit,” Mortizer said.
“Yeah, so, we might need to deploy SRS to back Mortizer here up.”
“No need,” Mortizer said, lifting his wrist. He tapped on the colorful leather gauntlet for a moment, then spoke. “Gacle, summon the rest of the League. Immediately. We must assemble to deal with this situation.”
“Justice Signals activated,” the disembodied voice of the League’s administrative machine personality said, clearly audible despite the apparent lack of any obvious speakers in or on the hero’s outfit.
“Keep me appraised of their response time once they get going.”
“Acknowledged.”
Lowering his wrist, Mortizer held his hand out to Pope. “Give me that.”
“Why?” the technician said, instinctively clutching the device to his chest.
“Because I will need it to help me talk Chamess into abandoning his rage.”
“Give it to him,” Jorgan ordered.
Clearly reluctant to surrender it, Pope nevertheless held it out. Mortizer took it from the man, and looked down at it for a moment. His mouth twisting. “Commissioner, I know you would not be pleased if one of your children started a relationship with someone so nefariously connected.”
“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t tear the city apart just because my daughter had a milkshake with a boy,” she said firmly. “The kids, either of them, haven’t done anything. Whatever their fathers may or may have.”
A sonic boom sounded far overhead. Mortizer glanced up, at a pair of flying figures that were slowing to take a look down at the scene they were approaching.
"Phearso and Temptress on scene." Gacle's voice said calmly.
The hero looked west again and spoke. “The League will handle this.”
“You’d better. Or I’ll send SRS in.” Jorgan said.
“We will handle this,” he repeated.
“Five minutes. Stop it or move it out to the country. Or SRS goes in shooting. I’m not going to explain to the mayor how I stood by letting a hero rip the city apart because his daughter decided to date rebelliously.”
Mortizer scowled at her. She glared back at him unflinchingly. After a moment he set his jaw arrogantly, and crouched. His legs launched him into the sky, but his flight powers curved his arc immediately in unnatural ways that couldn’t be explained by his jump. The other two airborne and just arrived heroes joined him, and all three streaked towards the ongoing battle to the west.
“Teenagers,” Jorgan muttered.
* * * * *
I collect all my flash fic [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/DavesWorld/). If you liked this, the others might be interesting too. Enjoy!
| The hero flew in, punching through the wall, and landed with a force that created an explosion on the ground of his nemesis’s lair. He had never been this angry.
“How dared you kidnapped my daughter!”
“I didn’t. She came here herself.” His nemesis replied.
“So you’re playing innocence now!”
“Breaking into my lair, sneaking into my child’s room. I wondered what kind of parenting she had to be this”
“Do not insult my daughter!” The hero cut him off and jumped toward him swinging his fist. The nemesis blocked it with his armored suit’s shield and returned with a punch. The hero dodged and jumped away.
“I told him there are better girls out there but he wouldn’t listen.”
“I told her to pick someone with a future! Why did she had to pick someone like him!”
They jumped toward each other crashing their fists into each other faces.
“I would make you pay for putting such a creature into my kid’s life!” said both of them as they started fighting.
| |
[WP] Finally medical technology has reached the point where humans can survive to be over 200 years old. It is at this moment that humanity discovers as a species we have a 200 year pupation period. | It was in June of 2027 that mankind finally discovered the fountain of youth. Unfortunately, humanities desire for immortality has nearly led us to extinction.
It all began with a researcher named Eve taking Ice Core samples to measure the impact of global warming on the earths ecosystem. She was accidentally exposed to a clear liquid she assumed was water until she realized it was far too cold for h20 to remain in its liquid form.
She radioed back to the research base the discovery of this liquid, and admitted to swallowing some in shock. As consuming unidentified liquids is tantamount to playing russian roulette with a semi-automatic pistol, the rescuers feared for the worst. To say they were shocked to see a much younger woman in Eve's place would be an understatement. Eve was on the wrong side of 60, the woman wearing her clothes and identifying herself as Eve couldn't have been more than 24 years old.
Eve was the victim of a fatal hit and run accident 4 months later. The members of Eve's "rescue party" were given hefty bonuses in exchange for their silence and were under a strict NDA to not discuss the incident-or mystery liquid- with anyone.
Samples of the fluid Eve discovered were collected in private, analyzed in secret, broken down, and reproduced chemically. The result was marketed privately as a new designer drug called Ambrosia. At $1,000,000 for a single dose, the average citizen was never supposed to know of it's existence, and certainly wouldn't be able to afford it.
It was supposed to give the "elite" of mankind immortality, instead it nearly destroyed our species. Something of this magnitude can NOT be kept under wraps for very long. As was bound to happen, someone eventually had a crisis of conscience and decided to breach the NDA.
The result was public outrage, followed by vigilante justice- the board behind the coverup of the discovery was found dead. Their private security guards were also found dead. The government immediately attempted to step in and classify the formula under national security, but it made its way to Wikileaks and the Streisand Effect took over.
Soon, every meth cook, drug kingpin, science teacher, and budding chemist on the planet was producing Ambrosia by the gallon and selling doses of it on the black market.
A single dose of Ambrosia caused the chromosomes responsible for aging to return to their "prime" state and permanently corrected the problem of them degrading over time by increasing and adjusting the hTERT enzymes to perfectly replicate the telomere's that protect the chromosomes from degrading during replication. The result-functional immortality.
The problem is that humanity is very selfish and shortsighted. Nobody ever really anticipated the impact an entire generation of geriatrics regressing in age virtually overnight to their prime years would have. While it emptied out retirement homes, it also flooded the job marketplace with people desiring work. Housing became in short supply, causing real-estate prices and rents to rise exponentially. Tent-cities began springing up everywhere, the quality of life quickly took a hit. Food scarcity became a problem, breadlines became a thing. The class warfare began. The have-not's began hunting the have's, desperate for food they assumed they were hoarding. Eventually, martial law was declared across the U.S. Eventually, the rest of the world followed the U.S's lead.
The military was federalized to defend the "elite", high-ranking officers issued orders to fire on the "rioters" sometimes their orders were followed, sometimes they weren't. A second civil war had began. Reaper and Predator drones began indiscriminately targeting anyone that appeared to be rioting.
An order was given and at 2AM on January 24th, 2029 the MOAB was dropped on a large settlement where so called "Rioters" were seen returning to via satellite scans. Thousands dead, women, children, men, a few dogs.
The military ranks broke when news of the massacre popped up on the Meshnets and HAM radio. The internet kill switch long-since having been flipped. In response, two groups of Former Special Forces soldiers took over the white house and wiped out Congress during an emergency session. The government had officially fallen.
A feudal system of sorts returned from the ashes. If there was a "good" thing about Civil War, it's that it quickly reduces the population. The problem of resource scarcity had been solved-temporarily. Restrictions on child birth were implemented and strictly enforced reversible-sterilization began for criminals and those on any form of welfare or social services. It seemed that humanity would survive.
And then it happened, the year 2126 the news reported the first known 200 year old person. A man by the name of Adam J. Smith was shown celebrating, when the exact time of his listed birth arrived he collapsed. The world watched in horror as he curled up into the fetal position and he could be heard through the livestreams screaming in agony.
A yellowish liquid began seeping from his skin and began hardening, turning black. His mass began growing in size as Doctor's looked on with worried looks, their concern and bewilderment utterly apparent.
He remained in this cocooned state for 3 days, the cries of pain stopped after the first one. What "hatched" from the cocoon on the 4th day was no longer human.
"Adam" now stood 8 feet tall and appeared muscular. While still vaguely resembling Adam's facial features and remaining bipedal, it resembled something more out of a nightmare. It's skin was black as night. A retractable tail with a stinger on the end, and a pair of horns on his forehead.
Its first hostile action happened within moments of emerging. In the blink of an eye it severed the head of Adam's wife-of 65 years-in one quick movement. The scientists were in awe, it's arm could shape-shift into different forms. Later, it would be realized that his entire body could change form.
Inside of 25 seconds every human in the room was dead. The world watched in horror as Adam began consuming the flesh and blood of the dead. The worst part was the intelligence that remained, it wasn't just pure predatory instinct. Just prior to feasting it looked into the surveilance camera and spoke "I am just the first, I will take my toll, even if you stop me we are legion".
When security arrived, it took a dozen men to stop Adam. His hardened black skin comparable to kevlar. During the fighting, an additional 4 soldiers with state-of-the-art weapons and armor were killed. Adam demonstrated his shape-shifting abilities to shrink to the size of a small child. Even the most battle-hardened soldier is not going to want to shoot an unarmed child, a fact Adam understood and exploited to close the gap to the soldiers.
As he approached the soldiers imitating a child in form and size "he" could be heard on camera "Have you seen my mommy and daddy?" When he got close he returned to his true form and attacked savagely, killing another 3 soldiers in an instant with its arms while stabbing a fourth with his tail. The remaining troops emptied their magazines into Adam, despite their advanced weapons it took nearly all of their firepower to stop Adam's advance.
This was all caught on camera and streamed live to the world.
The world mourned, fear took hold. Arguments began in every forum, news show, talk show, and classroom. Immediate cries began of quarantining ANYONE approaching 200 years of age. The popular(hopeful) theory was that it was just a "fluke".
A week later another person was scheduled to turn 200. Previously thought to be the oldest person before Adam came forward, they already knew who it was. His name was Jean Luc; not wanting to hurt his family if he changed, he surrendered himself to custody peacefully.
Precautions were taken, he was locked in an isolated room, and observed through CCTV. Nothing was left to chance. The isolation room was an old bank vault with reinforced walls and an airlock like setup. It required a guard to open the door remotely with his palm print, strict orders were given not to open the door under duress, even if it was his CO ordering him to do so at gunpoint. The room itself was rigged for a thermite burn.
When Jean Luc reached 200 years old exactly, his change began. Thankfully, it was different, while the unbearable pain and screams of agony presented, the fluid escaping his pores was white. It hardened into diamond instead of coal and seemed to emit light from within. For 3 days the world watched in shock-what did this mean? When he emerged on the fourth day, it became immediately clear something was different.
While larger than a human, Jean-Luc stood smaller than post-transformation Adam. He retained a similar appearance to pre-transformation Jean-Luc, mostly. There were no horns or tail evident, but a majestic plume of feathers extended out 6 feet to his left and right-wings. His entire eyes were now a bright blue. When he spoke, his voice commanded respect.
"Our name is Michael, we retain the memories of Jean-Luc, but I am something new. His life-essence made him a suitable candidate for me to merge with. I am the first light-bringer to cross, but there will be other even more powerful dark-ones. As they consume, they grow in power. I mean you and humanity no harm, but we need to prepare." | I am old. Very old. The regeneration treatments came when we discovered a compound found only in a near extinct plant deep in the Congo. To be specific, in its fruit. The compound somehow reset the clock of our aging, causing telomeres to regenerate and cells to become youthful again. Even our brains regained the plasticity of youth. Body parts long amputated regenerated. Even our teeth became strong. It was the fountain of youth. Or, perhaps more properly, the tree of life.
It was one hundred fifty-six years ago when I took the treatment for the first time. The taste was sweet, like a pomegranate, only more so. The feeling of invigoration was immediate. The full effect took about a week. I was forty-four years old, but I looked to be thirty. I still do--or did.
These last few weeks I've felt a bit odd. My hands have been itching. Particularly around my knuckles. I've had headaches also. And my shoulders have been aching.
Last night, I decided to take a sleeping pill and go to bed early. Or at least, it seems like last night. According to the date, it's been two weeks. And it's been an odd two weeks to be sure. I'm the first person, that I know of, who has gone through this change. I have to imagine that it is due to the aging treatment?
At any rate, when I awoke, my eyes were clear. I mean vision like I've never had. The smallest print, and even a pebble half a mile away was perfectly discernible. I could also hear--everything. I'm not even sure the range. It took quite a while to block out there background noise so that I could get out of bed. But the real shock came when I looked in the mirror. My pajamas were ripped. No wonder. My body was nearly twice its former size. My shoulders broad, round. My waist small. My hands were gnarled and bony, and the size of a soccer ball. My hair was gone, but in its place, I beheld a skull three times the capacity of any human before me. And I understood. Somehow, intuitively, this is what we were meant to be. This is what humans had been destined for always, but something had gotten in the way.
I am an apex predator. I doubt there's anything stronger, faster, or smarter than me on this planet, save perhaps certain megafauna in the strength category. And I'm about to find out if I'm right. You see, I'm very, very hungry. | |
[WP] Finally medical technology has reached the point where humans can survive to be over 200 years old. It is at this moment that humanity discovers as a species we have a 200 year pupation period. | It was in June of 2027 that mankind finally discovered the fountain of youth. Unfortunately, humanities desire for immortality has nearly led us to extinction.
It all began with a researcher named Eve taking Ice Core samples to measure the impact of global warming on the earths ecosystem. She was accidentally exposed to a clear liquid she assumed was water until she realized it was far too cold for h20 to remain in its liquid form.
She radioed back to the research base the discovery of this liquid, and admitted to swallowing some in shock. As consuming unidentified liquids is tantamount to playing russian roulette with a semi-automatic pistol, the rescuers feared for the worst. To say they were shocked to see a much younger woman in Eve's place would be an understatement. Eve was on the wrong side of 60, the woman wearing her clothes and identifying herself as Eve couldn't have been more than 24 years old.
Eve was the victim of a fatal hit and run accident 4 months later. The members of Eve's "rescue party" were given hefty bonuses in exchange for their silence and were under a strict NDA to not discuss the incident-or mystery liquid- with anyone.
Samples of the fluid Eve discovered were collected in private, analyzed in secret, broken down, and reproduced chemically. The result was marketed privately as a new designer drug called Ambrosia. At $1,000,000 for a single dose, the average citizen was never supposed to know of it's existence, and certainly wouldn't be able to afford it.
It was supposed to give the "elite" of mankind immortality, instead it nearly destroyed our species. Something of this magnitude can NOT be kept under wraps for very long. As was bound to happen, someone eventually had a crisis of conscience and decided to breach the NDA.
The result was public outrage, followed by vigilante justice- the board behind the coverup of the discovery was found dead. Their private security guards were also found dead. The government immediately attempted to step in and classify the formula under national security, but it made its way to Wikileaks and the Streisand Effect took over.
Soon, every meth cook, drug kingpin, science teacher, and budding chemist on the planet was producing Ambrosia by the gallon and selling doses of it on the black market.
A single dose of Ambrosia caused the chromosomes responsible for aging to return to their "prime" state and permanently corrected the problem of them degrading over time by increasing and adjusting the hTERT enzymes to perfectly replicate the telomere's that protect the chromosomes from degrading during replication. The result-functional immortality.
The problem is that humanity is very selfish and shortsighted. Nobody ever really anticipated the impact an entire generation of geriatrics regressing in age virtually overnight to their prime years would have. While it emptied out retirement homes, it also flooded the job marketplace with people desiring work. Housing became in short supply, causing real-estate prices and rents to rise exponentially. Tent-cities began springing up everywhere, the quality of life quickly took a hit. Food scarcity became a problem, breadlines became a thing. The class warfare began. The have-not's began hunting the have's, desperate for food they assumed they were hoarding. Eventually, martial law was declared across the U.S. Eventually, the rest of the world followed the U.S's lead.
The military was federalized to defend the "elite", high-ranking officers issued orders to fire on the "rioters" sometimes their orders were followed, sometimes they weren't. A second civil war had began. Reaper and Predator drones began indiscriminately targeting anyone that appeared to be rioting.
An order was given and at 2AM on January 24th, 2029 the MOAB was dropped on a large settlement where so called "Rioters" were seen returning to via satellite scans. Thousands dead, women, children, men, a few dogs.
The military ranks broke when news of the massacre popped up on the Meshnets and HAM radio. The internet kill switch long-since having been flipped. In response, two groups of Former Special Forces soldiers took over the white house and wiped out Congress during an emergency session. The government had officially fallen.
A feudal system of sorts returned from the ashes. If there was a "good" thing about Civil War, it's that it quickly reduces the population. The problem of resource scarcity had been solved-temporarily. Restrictions on child birth were implemented and strictly enforced reversible-sterilization began for criminals and those on any form of welfare or social services. It seemed that humanity would survive.
And then it happened, the year 2126 the news reported the first known 200 year old person. A man by the name of Adam J. Smith was shown celebrating, when the exact time of his listed birth arrived he collapsed. The world watched in horror as he curled up into the fetal position and he could be heard through the livestreams screaming in agony.
A yellowish liquid began seeping from his skin and began hardening, turning black. His mass began growing in size as Doctor's looked on with worried looks, their concern and bewilderment utterly apparent.
He remained in this cocooned state for 3 days, the cries of pain stopped after the first one. What "hatched" from the cocoon on the 4th day was no longer human.
"Adam" now stood 8 feet tall and appeared muscular. While still vaguely resembling Adam's facial features and remaining bipedal, it resembled something more out of a nightmare. It's skin was black as night. A retractable tail with a stinger on the end, and a pair of horns on his forehead.
Its first hostile action happened within moments of emerging. In the blink of an eye it severed the head of Adam's wife-of 65 years-in one quick movement. The scientists were in awe, it's arm could shape-shift into different forms. Later, it would be realized that his entire body could change form.
Inside of 25 seconds every human in the room was dead. The world watched in horror as Adam began consuming the flesh and blood of the dead. The worst part was the intelligence that remained, it wasn't just pure predatory instinct. Just prior to feasting it looked into the surveilance camera and spoke "I am just the first, I will take my toll, even if you stop me we are legion".
When security arrived, it took a dozen men to stop Adam. His hardened black skin comparable to kevlar. During the fighting, an additional 4 soldiers with state-of-the-art weapons and armor were killed. Adam demonstrated his shape-shifting abilities to shrink to the size of a small child. Even the most battle-hardened soldier is not going to want to shoot an unarmed child, a fact Adam understood and exploited to close the gap to the soldiers.
As he approached the soldiers imitating a child in form and size "he" could be heard on camera "Have you seen my mommy and daddy?" When he got close he returned to his true form and attacked savagely, killing another 3 soldiers in an instant with its arms while stabbing a fourth with his tail. The remaining troops emptied their magazines into Adam, despite their advanced weapons it took nearly all of their firepower to stop Adam's advance.
This was all caught on camera and streamed live to the world.
The world mourned, fear took hold. Arguments began in every forum, news show, talk show, and classroom. Immediate cries began of quarantining ANYONE approaching 200 years of age. The popular(hopeful) theory was that it was just a "fluke".
A week later another person was scheduled to turn 200. Previously thought to be the oldest person before Adam came forward, they already knew who it was. His name was Jean Luc; not wanting to hurt his family if he changed, he surrendered himself to custody peacefully.
Precautions were taken, he was locked in an isolated room, and observed through CCTV. Nothing was left to chance. The isolation room was an old bank vault with reinforced walls and an airlock like setup. It required a guard to open the door remotely with his palm print, strict orders were given not to open the door under duress, even if it was his CO ordering him to do so at gunpoint. The room itself was rigged for a thermite burn.
When Jean Luc reached 200 years old exactly, his change began. Thankfully, it was different, while the unbearable pain and screams of agony presented, the fluid escaping his pores was white. It hardened into diamond instead of coal and seemed to emit light from within. For 3 days the world watched in shock-what did this mean? When he emerged on the fourth day, it became immediately clear something was different.
While larger than a human, Jean-Luc stood smaller than post-transformation Adam. He retained a similar appearance to pre-transformation Jean-Luc, mostly. There were no horns or tail evident, but a majestic plume of feathers extended out 6 feet to his left and right-wings. His entire eyes were now a bright blue. When he spoke, his voice commanded respect.
"Our name is Michael, we retain the memories of Jean-Luc, but I am something new. His life-essence made him a suitable candidate for me to merge with. I am the first light-bringer to cross, but there will be other even more powerful dark-ones. As they consume, they grow in power. I mean you and humanity no harm, but we need to prepare." | Saturday, December 19, 4212
I am 199 years old now. I’ll be celebrating christmas alone this year. I’ll be celebrating my birthday alone. There are not many “humans” left alive anymore after the life prolonging corn was created and grown for the world over. I remember when not a single soul rejected the modified food but, we couldn’t have known the effects. It was not the corn itself. The man who created it was surely a genius, pure of heart. What we learned about ourselves though, after the new life expectancy allowed humans to push 190 years of age, was a pupation period that occurred on the persons 200th birthday. Always the 200th. The individual would curl into a ball on the ground. Their skin would become coarse and stone like. The limbs would meld into the body and the man would become indistinguishable from a stone. The stone would grow. Then months later, emerge as a terrifying subject. An immense man in stature. The former human was now a giant lacking any recollection of their previous life. I now believe the story of jack and the bean stalk. I hope that when the reign of giants is over, and my journal lay in ruin in the dirt. That the next form of sentient life reads my journal, and conscripts it as fact, as history. I am afraid.
| |
[WP] Finally medical technology has reached the point where humans can survive to be over 200 years old. It is at this moment that humanity discovers as a species we have a 200 year pupation period. | It was in June of 2027 that mankind finally discovered the fountain of youth. Unfortunately, humanities desire for immortality has nearly led us to extinction.
It all began with a researcher named Eve taking Ice Core samples to measure the impact of global warming on the earths ecosystem. She was accidentally exposed to a clear liquid she assumed was water until she realized it was far too cold for h20 to remain in its liquid form.
She radioed back to the research base the discovery of this liquid, and admitted to swallowing some in shock. As consuming unidentified liquids is tantamount to playing russian roulette with a semi-automatic pistol, the rescuers feared for the worst. To say they were shocked to see a much younger woman in Eve's place would be an understatement. Eve was on the wrong side of 60, the woman wearing her clothes and identifying herself as Eve couldn't have been more than 24 years old.
Eve was the victim of a fatal hit and run accident 4 months later. The members of Eve's "rescue party" were given hefty bonuses in exchange for their silence and were under a strict NDA to not discuss the incident-or mystery liquid- with anyone.
Samples of the fluid Eve discovered were collected in private, analyzed in secret, broken down, and reproduced chemically. The result was marketed privately as a new designer drug called Ambrosia. At $1,000,000 for a single dose, the average citizen was never supposed to know of it's existence, and certainly wouldn't be able to afford it.
It was supposed to give the "elite" of mankind immortality, instead it nearly destroyed our species. Something of this magnitude can NOT be kept under wraps for very long. As was bound to happen, someone eventually had a crisis of conscience and decided to breach the NDA.
The result was public outrage, followed by vigilante justice- the board behind the coverup of the discovery was found dead. Their private security guards were also found dead. The government immediately attempted to step in and classify the formula under national security, but it made its way to Wikileaks and the Streisand Effect took over.
Soon, every meth cook, drug kingpin, science teacher, and budding chemist on the planet was producing Ambrosia by the gallon and selling doses of it on the black market.
A single dose of Ambrosia caused the chromosomes responsible for aging to return to their "prime" state and permanently corrected the problem of them degrading over time by increasing and adjusting the hTERT enzymes to perfectly replicate the telomere's that protect the chromosomes from degrading during replication. The result-functional immortality.
The problem is that humanity is very selfish and shortsighted. Nobody ever really anticipated the impact an entire generation of geriatrics regressing in age virtually overnight to their prime years would have. While it emptied out retirement homes, it also flooded the job marketplace with people desiring work. Housing became in short supply, causing real-estate prices and rents to rise exponentially. Tent-cities began springing up everywhere, the quality of life quickly took a hit. Food scarcity became a problem, breadlines became a thing. The class warfare began. The have-not's began hunting the have's, desperate for food they assumed they were hoarding. Eventually, martial law was declared across the U.S. Eventually, the rest of the world followed the U.S's lead.
The military was federalized to defend the "elite", high-ranking officers issued orders to fire on the "rioters" sometimes their orders were followed, sometimes they weren't. A second civil war had began. Reaper and Predator drones began indiscriminately targeting anyone that appeared to be rioting.
An order was given and at 2AM on January 24th, 2029 the MOAB was dropped on a large settlement where so called "Rioters" were seen returning to via satellite scans. Thousands dead, women, children, men, a few dogs.
The military ranks broke when news of the massacre popped up on the Meshnets and HAM radio. The internet kill switch long-since having been flipped. In response, two groups of Former Special Forces soldiers took over the white house and wiped out Congress during an emergency session. The government had officially fallen.
A feudal system of sorts returned from the ashes. If there was a "good" thing about Civil War, it's that it quickly reduces the population. The problem of resource scarcity had been solved-temporarily. Restrictions on child birth were implemented and strictly enforced reversible-sterilization began for criminals and those on any form of welfare or social services. It seemed that humanity would survive.
And then it happened, the year 2126 the news reported the first known 200 year old person. A man by the name of Adam J. Smith was shown celebrating, when the exact time of his listed birth arrived he collapsed. The world watched in horror as he curled up into the fetal position and he could be heard through the livestreams screaming in agony.
A yellowish liquid began seeping from his skin and began hardening, turning black. His mass began growing in size as Doctor's looked on with worried looks, their concern and bewilderment utterly apparent.
He remained in this cocooned state for 3 days, the cries of pain stopped after the first one. What "hatched" from the cocoon on the 4th day was no longer human.
"Adam" now stood 8 feet tall and appeared muscular. While still vaguely resembling Adam's facial features and remaining bipedal, it resembled something more out of a nightmare. It's skin was black as night. A retractable tail with a stinger on the end, and a pair of horns on his forehead.
Its first hostile action happened within moments of emerging. In the blink of an eye it severed the head of Adam's wife-of 65 years-in one quick movement. The scientists were in awe, it's arm could shape-shift into different forms. Later, it would be realized that his entire body could change form.
Inside of 25 seconds every human in the room was dead. The world watched in horror as Adam began consuming the flesh and blood of the dead. The worst part was the intelligence that remained, it wasn't just pure predatory instinct. Just prior to feasting it looked into the surveilance camera and spoke "I am just the first, I will take my toll, even if you stop me we are legion".
When security arrived, it took a dozen men to stop Adam. His hardened black skin comparable to kevlar. During the fighting, an additional 4 soldiers with state-of-the-art weapons and armor were killed. Adam demonstrated his shape-shifting abilities to shrink to the size of a small child. Even the most battle-hardened soldier is not going to want to shoot an unarmed child, a fact Adam understood and exploited to close the gap to the soldiers.
As he approached the soldiers imitating a child in form and size "he" could be heard on camera "Have you seen my mommy and daddy?" When he got close he returned to his true form and attacked savagely, killing another 3 soldiers in an instant with its arms while stabbing a fourth with his tail. The remaining troops emptied their magazines into Adam, despite their advanced weapons it took nearly all of their firepower to stop Adam's advance.
This was all caught on camera and streamed live to the world.
The world mourned, fear took hold. Arguments began in every forum, news show, talk show, and classroom. Immediate cries began of quarantining ANYONE approaching 200 years of age. The popular(hopeful) theory was that it was just a "fluke".
A week later another person was scheduled to turn 200. Previously thought to be the oldest person before Adam came forward, they already knew who it was. His name was Jean Luc; not wanting to hurt his family if he changed, he surrendered himself to custody peacefully.
Precautions were taken, he was locked in an isolated room, and observed through CCTV. Nothing was left to chance. The isolation room was an old bank vault with reinforced walls and an airlock like setup. It required a guard to open the door remotely with his palm print, strict orders were given not to open the door under duress, even if it was his CO ordering him to do so at gunpoint. The room itself was rigged for a thermite burn.
When Jean Luc reached 200 years old exactly, his change began. Thankfully, it was different, while the unbearable pain and screams of agony presented, the fluid escaping his pores was white. It hardened into diamond instead of coal and seemed to emit light from within. For 3 days the world watched in shock-what did this mean? When he emerged on the fourth day, it became immediately clear something was different.
While larger than a human, Jean-Luc stood smaller than post-transformation Adam. He retained a similar appearance to pre-transformation Jean-Luc, mostly. There were no horns or tail evident, but a majestic plume of feathers extended out 6 feet to his left and right-wings. His entire eyes were now a bright blue. When he spoke, his voice commanded respect.
"Our name is Michael, we retain the memories of Jean-Luc, but I am something new. His life-essence made him a suitable candidate for me to merge with. I am the first light-bringer to cross, but there will be other even more powerful dark-ones. As they consume, they grow in power. I mean you and humanity no harm, but we need to prepare." | It's been almost 150 years since the invention of the rejuvenation beds. Quite a feat of medical technology. When people enter the bed their cells will rejuvenate, much like the stem cells of a fetus. Of course there's a hefty price tag attached to such a procedure. Only the wealthiest have the privilege to keep themselves alive.
I'm not one of these wealthy people, but my boss, Arno, is. It's his biggest weakness as well. He's a good man, so he's easily taken advantage of. He's learned this lesson the hard way. I'm the only one he trusts. We both lived through the first, and second, great migration. Living on Mars was.. Synthetic to say the least. But now we're living on Wolf 1061c and life is good.
Arno's first bath was when he turned 50, exactly 150 years ago. He was the 15th person to undergo the rejuvenation, only a few days after the very first session.
We got together with a few of Arno's other close friends, in a villa secluded from the rest of the world, to celebrate. The scenery outside was simply phenomenal. Huge rolling hills covered in pearlescent grass. The second sun reflecting its orange glow on the clear blue water. I clearly remember the smell of mint lavender. Arno was sitting next to me, staring across the water to the other side, when his expression changed. It looked as though he finally figured something out.
"40 days" he then said to me, calm as only he can be, but with a resoluteness that seemed unlike him.
What happened then has haunted me in my dreams. First his stomach started to expand, blowing up like a balloon. He then arched his back--I can still hear the bones snapping--as he folded double and into himself. Where his shoulders and waist were are now roots, sticking to the ground beneath him, with his belly facing the sky. He doesn't resemble a human anymore. The shape he's taken looks more like a bloated tree.
That was 40 days ago. | |
[WP] Finally medical technology has reached the point where humans can survive to be over 200 years old. It is at this moment that humanity discovers as a species we have a 200 year pupation period. | It was in June of 2027 that mankind finally discovered the fountain of youth. Unfortunately, humanities desire for immortality has nearly led us to extinction.
It all began with a researcher named Eve taking Ice Core samples to measure the impact of global warming on the earths ecosystem. She was accidentally exposed to a clear liquid she assumed was water until she realized it was far too cold for h20 to remain in its liquid form.
She radioed back to the research base the discovery of this liquid, and admitted to swallowing some in shock. As consuming unidentified liquids is tantamount to playing russian roulette with a semi-automatic pistol, the rescuers feared for the worst. To say they were shocked to see a much younger woman in Eve's place would be an understatement. Eve was on the wrong side of 60, the woman wearing her clothes and identifying herself as Eve couldn't have been more than 24 years old.
Eve was the victim of a fatal hit and run accident 4 months later. The members of Eve's "rescue party" were given hefty bonuses in exchange for their silence and were under a strict NDA to not discuss the incident-or mystery liquid- with anyone.
Samples of the fluid Eve discovered were collected in private, analyzed in secret, broken down, and reproduced chemically. The result was marketed privately as a new designer drug called Ambrosia. At $1,000,000 for a single dose, the average citizen was never supposed to know of it's existence, and certainly wouldn't be able to afford it.
It was supposed to give the "elite" of mankind immortality, instead it nearly destroyed our species. Something of this magnitude can NOT be kept under wraps for very long. As was bound to happen, someone eventually had a crisis of conscience and decided to breach the NDA.
The result was public outrage, followed by vigilante justice- the board behind the coverup of the discovery was found dead. Their private security guards were also found dead. The government immediately attempted to step in and classify the formula under national security, but it made its way to Wikileaks and the Streisand Effect took over.
Soon, every meth cook, drug kingpin, science teacher, and budding chemist on the planet was producing Ambrosia by the gallon and selling doses of it on the black market.
A single dose of Ambrosia caused the chromosomes responsible for aging to return to their "prime" state and permanently corrected the problem of them degrading over time by increasing and adjusting the hTERT enzymes to perfectly replicate the telomere's that protect the chromosomes from degrading during replication. The result-functional immortality.
The problem is that humanity is very selfish and shortsighted. Nobody ever really anticipated the impact an entire generation of geriatrics regressing in age virtually overnight to their prime years would have. While it emptied out retirement homes, it also flooded the job marketplace with people desiring work. Housing became in short supply, causing real-estate prices and rents to rise exponentially. Tent-cities began springing up everywhere, the quality of life quickly took a hit. Food scarcity became a problem, breadlines became a thing. The class warfare began. The have-not's began hunting the have's, desperate for food they assumed they were hoarding. Eventually, martial law was declared across the U.S. Eventually, the rest of the world followed the U.S's lead.
The military was federalized to defend the "elite", high-ranking officers issued orders to fire on the "rioters" sometimes their orders were followed, sometimes they weren't. A second civil war had began. Reaper and Predator drones began indiscriminately targeting anyone that appeared to be rioting.
An order was given and at 2AM on January 24th, 2029 the MOAB was dropped on a large settlement where so called "Rioters" were seen returning to via satellite scans. Thousands dead, women, children, men, a few dogs.
The military ranks broke when news of the massacre popped up on the Meshnets and HAM radio. The internet kill switch long-since having been flipped. In response, two groups of Former Special Forces soldiers took over the white house and wiped out Congress during an emergency session. The government had officially fallen.
A feudal system of sorts returned from the ashes. If there was a "good" thing about Civil War, it's that it quickly reduces the population. The problem of resource scarcity had been solved-temporarily. Restrictions on child birth were implemented and strictly enforced reversible-sterilization began for criminals and those on any form of welfare or social services. It seemed that humanity would survive.
And then it happened, the year 2126 the news reported the first known 200 year old person. A man by the name of Adam J. Smith was shown celebrating, when the exact time of his listed birth arrived he collapsed. The world watched in horror as he curled up into the fetal position and he could be heard through the livestreams screaming in agony.
A yellowish liquid began seeping from his skin and began hardening, turning black. His mass began growing in size as Doctor's looked on with worried looks, their concern and bewilderment utterly apparent.
He remained in this cocooned state for 3 days, the cries of pain stopped after the first one. What "hatched" from the cocoon on the 4th day was no longer human.
"Adam" now stood 8 feet tall and appeared muscular. While still vaguely resembling Adam's facial features and remaining bipedal, it resembled something more out of a nightmare. It's skin was black as night. A retractable tail with a stinger on the end, and a pair of horns on his forehead.
Its first hostile action happened within moments of emerging. In the blink of an eye it severed the head of Adam's wife-of 65 years-in one quick movement. The scientists were in awe, it's arm could shape-shift into different forms. Later, it would be realized that his entire body could change form.
Inside of 25 seconds every human in the room was dead. The world watched in horror as Adam began consuming the flesh and blood of the dead. The worst part was the intelligence that remained, it wasn't just pure predatory instinct. Just prior to feasting it looked into the surveilance camera and spoke "I am just the first, I will take my toll, even if you stop me we are legion".
When security arrived, it took a dozen men to stop Adam. His hardened black skin comparable to kevlar. During the fighting, an additional 4 soldiers with state-of-the-art weapons and armor were killed. Adam demonstrated his shape-shifting abilities to shrink to the size of a small child. Even the most battle-hardened soldier is not going to want to shoot an unarmed child, a fact Adam understood and exploited to close the gap to the soldiers.
As he approached the soldiers imitating a child in form and size "he" could be heard on camera "Have you seen my mommy and daddy?" When he got close he returned to his true form and attacked savagely, killing another 3 soldiers in an instant with its arms while stabbing a fourth with his tail. The remaining troops emptied their magazines into Adam, despite their advanced weapons it took nearly all of their firepower to stop Adam's advance.
This was all caught on camera and streamed live to the world.
The world mourned, fear took hold. Arguments began in every forum, news show, talk show, and classroom. Immediate cries began of quarantining ANYONE approaching 200 years of age. The popular(hopeful) theory was that it was just a "fluke".
A week later another person was scheduled to turn 200. Previously thought to be the oldest person before Adam came forward, they already knew who it was. His name was Jean Luc; not wanting to hurt his family if he changed, he surrendered himself to custody peacefully.
Precautions were taken, he was locked in an isolated room, and observed through CCTV. Nothing was left to chance. The isolation room was an old bank vault with reinforced walls and an airlock like setup. It required a guard to open the door remotely with his palm print, strict orders were given not to open the door under duress, even if it was his CO ordering him to do so at gunpoint. The room itself was rigged for a thermite burn.
When Jean Luc reached 200 years old exactly, his change began. Thankfully, it was different, while the unbearable pain and screams of agony presented, the fluid escaping his pores was white. It hardened into diamond instead of coal and seemed to emit light from within. For 3 days the world watched in shock-what did this mean? When he emerged on the fourth day, it became immediately clear something was different.
While larger than a human, Jean-Luc stood smaller than post-transformation Adam. He retained a similar appearance to pre-transformation Jean-Luc, mostly. There were no horns or tail evident, but a majestic plume of feathers extended out 6 feet to his left and right-wings. His entire eyes were now a bright blue. When he spoke, his voice commanded respect.
"Our name is Michael, we retain the memories of Jean-Luc, but I am something new. His life-essence made him a suitable candidate for me to merge with. I am the first light-bringer to cross, but there will be other even more powerful dark-ones. As they consume, they grow in power. I mean you and humanity no harm, but we need to prepare." | "Are you sure he's fine? He looks so skinny."
"I'd say say not to worry, but this reaction is different from the rest we've observed. He didn't seem to have a lot of fat built up beforehand, so it looks like he's trying to absorb the required nutrients straight out of the air."
The frost on the viewing window started to disappear. If anyone had taken a closer look at the shell, they would have found that little fibers started breaking away.
"It looks like he's moving into the final stage. We have everything prepared, and enough tranquilizers for a herd of elephants."
Suddenly, large chunks of the shell started peeling away, like a reversed time lapse of his forming of the shell. About halfway through the shell's peeling, a pair of smooth, shiny wings punched through the shell.
A deep and muffled voice called from inside the shell. "Can someone turn off the AC? It's getting cold in here!"
"That sounds just like him, always complaining that it's too cold."
The wings easily shredded the shell, and he stood up. His head brushed the 10 foot ceiling, and his wings stretched out, each wing as long as him. Despite gaining 4 feet and no weight, he didn't look emaciated, just streched out like silly putty.
"God, I thought he was hot before. You'd think that after living together for 10 years, I would get used to seeing him. Could we, uh, put off the check ups until maybe tomorrow or the day after?"
The formally shelled man spoke up. "That sounds like a wonderful idea! A burger sounds great right now, and I can't sit still any more."
The doctor thought about it for a second, then acquiessed to their desires. "I suppose it won't hurt. Lemme go get some clothes for you."
"Oh no. He's fine as he is."
The doctor turned around. "What was that? I could hear you."
"Oh, nothing." and quickly blushed.
The giant stretched. "You know what, I feel like I could run forever." and a smirk appeared on his face.
"Now that you're back, I could too. And it would only be a few months before I would pupate too. God, I'm getting horny just thinking about it."
"Sounds like heaven. Pure bliss."
"Angelic." | |
[WP] Finally medical technology has reached the point where humans can survive to be over 200 years old. It is at this moment that humanity discovers as a species we have a 200 year pupation period. | With the advent of the Musk-Hawking Supraluminal Drive, humanity was finally able to explore the vastness that was space. From the first unmanned Tyson Exploratory Vessel to the manned United Nations Space Coalition "Icarus" class corvette, man has stretched his arms to every planet in his solar system. With the colonization of Mars and the mining of its two moons, Man began to test the limits of space. Pushing the boundaries of what it meant to be "human".
Social and scientific experiments were often done to unknowing colonists arriving from fair Mother Earth. When, over 75 years since the first ship landed on Mars, a chemical found in the depths of the underground frozen lakes had the potential to change everything. Dr. Manuel Xerxes Yeager was the first to discover and make use of the chemical, calling it the "Essence of Life".
This chemical, in a long and drawn out process, extended the human life cycle to 200+ years. Dr. Yeager was the first to test the medicine. Dr. Yeager was the first to Evolve.
You see, though man views life in 365 rotations of its planets around its central star, the rest of the universe views time as...trivial. To a human, 100 years is a long time. 200 years is...unthinkable. Dr. Yeager had gone absolutely insane by the time he was 150. At 175 he went into a deep, unbreakable coma. By 190, his body began to decay, but in a slow, almost deliberate state.
Studies showed that his Mitochondria had multiplied by the hundred fold. His body was producing so much biological energy, the scientific community couldn't fathom why or how it was happening. Though the Essence of Life prolonged a human life, it did not affect the body in any way other than "slowing" cell decay.
So in the year 2286, on the 16th of October, Dr. Yeagers body began to glow. Like a faint, tiny candle flame hid under a shaking hand his body glowed and heated until finally, after a few days of this, it burst. His corporeal body sloshed away and springing up and out of it came a faintly shining, ever younger Dr. Yeager.
Dr. Yeagers mitochondria had duplicated his body, had improved upon it. Had increased muscle mass, metabolism, brain activity. He was smarter, stronger, faster.
However, Dr. Yeager had no knowledge of who he was. Where he was. WHAT he was. He was like a new born baby. "it" had to be taught, shown, told what to do. How to speak.
And it learned. | "Are you sure he's fine? He looks so skinny."
"I'd say say not to worry, but this reaction is different from the rest we've observed. He didn't seem to have a lot of fat built up beforehand, so it looks like he's trying to absorb the required nutrients straight out of the air."
The frost on the viewing window started to disappear. If anyone had taken a closer look at the shell, they would have found that little fibers started breaking away.
"It looks like he's moving into the final stage. We have everything prepared, and enough tranquilizers for a herd of elephants."
Suddenly, large chunks of the shell started peeling away, like a reversed time lapse of his forming of the shell. About halfway through the shell's peeling, a pair of smooth, shiny wings punched through the shell.
A deep and muffled voice called from inside the shell. "Can someone turn off the AC? It's getting cold in here!"
"That sounds just like him, always complaining that it's too cold."
The wings easily shredded the shell, and he stood up. His head brushed the 10 foot ceiling, and his wings stretched out, each wing as long as him. Despite gaining 4 feet and no weight, he didn't look emaciated, just streched out like silly putty.
"God, I thought he was hot before. You'd think that after living together for 10 years, I would get used to seeing him. Could we, uh, put off the check ups until maybe tomorrow or the day after?"
The formally shelled man spoke up. "That sounds like a wonderful idea! A burger sounds great right now, and I can't sit still any more."
The doctor thought about it for a second, then acquiessed to their desires. "I suppose it won't hurt. Lemme go get some clothes for you."
"Oh no. He's fine as he is."
The doctor turned around. "What was that? I could hear you."
"Oh, nothing." and quickly blushed.
The giant stretched. "You know what, I feel like I could run forever." and a smirk appeared on his face.
"Now that you're back, I could too. And it would only be a few months before I would pupate too. God, I'm getting horny just thinking about it."
"Sounds like heaven. Pure bliss."
"Angelic." | |
[WP] Finally medical technology has reached the point where humans can survive to be over 200 years old. It is at this moment that humanity discovers as a species we have a 200 year pupation period. | You'd think that more people would survive to this moment, wouldn't you? Their 200th birthday? Well, you'd be wrong.
Everyone has 200 years to live. That means they have 200 years' worth of opportunities to die. Yes, Ambrosia made sure we'd live to over 200 but there was still illnesses, accidents and murder to contend with...
Only a hundred-thousandth of people lived to this moment. And among my 50 siblings only I survived. Some died to cancer before Ambrosia was perfected, some died in daredevil stunts or in the army. Two of them died during the colonization of Venus.
I sat on the bed and waited for the doctor to come over. 'Always as fit as ever, Mr Davidson,' he said with a smile. 'And I've seen you've packed on fat as I've suggested. That's good.'
'Just tell me this is the end of these stupid tests,' I demanded from him.
'Calm down, I'm only 54,' the young man said. 'Hopefully these will be the last set of tests before you enter pupation.'
'Finally,' I said as he prepared the syringe for a blood sample. 'Otherwise I can head back to work and-'
My words were suddenly cut short as every muscle in my body tensed. My skin began to expand and harden while I felt my insides begin to melt. 'We've got a code 80,' the physician shouted over the tannoy. 'Pupa specialists report to floor 1, east wing!'
---
My senses died out soon after. That's what people often say happens when this happens, but since it was so rare...
'Reporting movement in pupa 28A,' a robotic voice said.
I felt tight within the cocoon. Even though it was pitch black inside but I could tell my physique was far different from the rather fit frame I had.
My body began to push outward, cracking what used to be my skin. I could hear people running towards me to help me escape but I easily tore the shell apart.
I was pure white, glowing even, but without any hair on my body as I raised by back upwards and faced the ceiling as white appendages Pushed their way and outward. The doctors could only stare at me as I knelt in the remains of my cocoon. But my change wasn't finished.
My skin began to turn into a normal human's, albeit heavily tanned. Hair formed in places of my choosing including along the head, a light form along my chest and a magnificently bushy beard on my face. The new appandages, these wings... they were pure white like a dove's. No, these wouldn't do. They changed color, the feathers growing until I had a pair of enormous eagle wings on my back.
'So we actually *do* go into post-hatching metamorphosis,' one doctor said as he stared down at me.
'Imagos have shape-shifting powers, of course they have post-hatching metamorphosis,' his colleague stated in a tone of voice along the lines of, "You goddamned idiot."
'I believe the official term is "Olympian",' I said as I stood from the remains of my cocoon. It felt strange saying that... I remembered when the idea of gods and deities were a mere myth and yet, here I was.
10 feet tall I stood over the doctors. My body was even more impressive than any mere mortal at the peak of fitness. But most impressive of all, I had *magic*.
Light began to form over my body as the doctors led me out of the pupation room. In less than 10 seconds I was wearing a seamless three-piece suit, gold watch on a chain and shell cordovan loafers when I got everyone to stop, asking, 'Why don't I just teleport us to your office, Dr Michael?'
'Because casting magic causes distress to those still within the pupas,' the doctor stated. 'Come on, we need you out of here ASAP.'
I was given the name of a physician, an older Olympian who could fully control their new powers. He'd teach me everything I'd need to know and my responsibilities as a deity; controlling the environment to avert droughts or crop failures, quelling volcanoes in populated areas, raising animal fertility, that sort of thing. I'd start taking my "classes" tomorrow.
But until then I'd have a full 24 hours to play around, you could say. I decided to head to the Lover casino on Venus. Sure, it was on another planet, but I could make the trip in, say... 10 seconds. And while creating gold was frowned upon... I did have quite the fortune saved up from the last 200 years. | "Are you sure he's fine? He looks so skinny."
"I'd say say not to worry, but this reaction is different from the rest we've observed. He didn't seem to have a lot of fat built up beforehand, so it looks like he's trying to absorb the required nutrients straight out of the air."
The frost on the viewing window started to disappear. If anyone had taken a closer look at the shell, they would have found that little fibers started breaking away.
"It looks like he's moving into the final stage. We have everything prepared, and enough tranquilizers for a herd of elephants."
Suddenly, large chunks of the shell started peeling away, like a reversed time lapse of his forming of the shell. About halfway through the shell's peeling, a pair of smooth, shiny wings punched through the shell.
A deep and muffled voice called from inside the shell. "Can someone turn off the AC? It's getting cold in here!"
"That sounds just like him, always complaining that it's too cold."
The wings easily shredded the shell, and he stood up. His head brushed the 10 foot ceiling, and his wings stretched out, each wing as long as him. Despite gaining 4 feet and no weight, he didn't look emaciated, just streched out like silly putty.
"God, I thought he was hot before. You'd think that after living together for 10 years, I would get used to seeing him. Could we, uh, put off the check ups until maybe tomorrow or the day after?"
The formally shelled man spoke up. "That sounds like a wonderful idea! A burger sounds great right now, and I can't sit still any more."
The doctor thought about it for a second, then acquiessed to their desires. "I suppose it won't hurt. Lemme go get some clothes for you."
"Oh no. He's fine as he is."
The doctor turned around. "What was that? I could hear you."
"Oh, nothing." and quickly blushed.
The giant stretched. "You know what, I feel like I could run forever." and a smirk appeared on his face.
"Now that you're back, I could too. And it would only be a few months before I would pupate too. God, I'm getting horny just thinking about it."
"Sounds like heaven. Pure bliss."
"Angelic." | |
[WP] Finally medical technology has reached the point where humans can survive to be over 200 years old. It is at this moment that humanity discovers as a species we have a 200 year pupation period. | As we board Transportation Pod 3, I realize something that captures me in a way that I hadn’t expected. It has been at least a hundred years since I last took this route. Hell, back then, pods were completely different. The stops, the waiting…it was a nightmare. They told us that Pod transportation was going to be like that “Shoot the Moon” game…that we could just wisk along, and simply drop off at our stops. Ha! They didn’t know half of the problems of that concept back then. But…all in all…I’m glad they figured it out.
As the pod separates from the docking station, and begins its gyroscopic roll…I look across the way at my great, great grand-daughter, Maggie. She will be turning 72 this coming Monday. It will be just another day of course…and you might be wondering how I could possibly remember her birthday…or her exact age for that matter. Well, I remember her birthday because mine is the same…and I know her age because she was born in the year 2100…so each year is easy to figure out her age.
“GG-Pa” she says.
I look over and smile. Despite my advanced age…and in the scheme things…hers (although she looks not a day over 40)…I have always enjoyed this title.
“Yes dear.”
“What do you think you will become? You know…when you turn 200?”
I pause, and let out an audible sigh.
For decades, I wished they never came up with that damned forsaken vaccine. Better put, maybe I wish I wouldn’t have taken it. Hindsight is 20-20…but the idea of stopping the aging process before a person reaches 50 is a much better choice than the only choice I had at the time: stopping aging at 85. But over the last few years, dozens and dozens of those in my generation have reached their metamorphosis…and turned into luminous creatures…and my outlook on life has changed.
I must have drifted, because she smiled, reached out her hand to touch mine…”GG-Pa?”
“My Dear, whatever I transform to…I hope that I might one day be able to brighten your days…for as many years as you have brightened mine.”
Just then, on the far end of the pod, Maggie and I saw something that neither of us had ever seen. A man, from my generation…began his Changing. All at once…his eyes became luminous…and beams of light seem to emit from every pore. A moment before…he was a man…aged to a geriatric version of a human…and in this moment…he was a pink and blue beam of light. Maggie and I saw this new being…this light…swirl and twist…and in a blink…vanish out of sight.
I smile at Maggie.
Maggie smiles back.
“I hope it is just like that Maggie.”
“Me too GG-Pa.”
| "Are you sure he's fine? He looks so skinny."
"I'd say say not to worry, but this reaction is different from the rest we've observed. He didn't seem to have a lot of fat built up beforehand, so it looks like he's trying to absorb the required nutrients straight out of the air."
The frost on the viewing window started to disappear. If anyone had taken a closer look at the shell, they would have found that little fibers started breaking away.
"It looks like he's moving into the final stage. We have everything prepared, and enough tranquilizers for a herd of elephants."
Suddenly, large chunks of the shell started peeling away, like a reversed time lapse of his forming of the shell. About halfway through the shell's peeling, a pair of smooth, shiny wings punched through the shell.
A deep and muffled voice called from inside the shell. "Can someone turn off the AC? It's getting cold in here!"
"That sounds just like him, always complaining that it's too cold."
The wings easily shredded the shell, and he stood up. His head brushed the 10 foot ceiling, and his wings stretched out, each wing as long as him. Despite gaining 4 feet and no weight, he didn't look emaciated, just streched out like silly putty.
"God, I thought he was hot before. You'd think that after living together for 10 years, I would get used to seeing him. Could we, uh, put off the check ups until maybe tomorrow or the day after?"
The formally shelled man spoke up. "That sounds like a wonderful idea! A burger sounds great right now, and I can't sit still any more."
The doctor thought about it for a second, then acquiessed to their desires. "I suppose it won't hurt. Lemme go get some clothes for you."
"Oh no. He's fine as he is."
The doctor turned around. "What was that? I could hear you."
"Oh, nothing." and quickly blushed.
The giant stretched. "You know what, I feel like I could run forever." and a smirk appeared on his face.
"Now that you're back, I could too. And it would only be a few months before I would pupate too. God, I'm getting horny just thinking about it."
"Sounds like heaven. Pure bliss."
"Angelic." | |
[WP] Finally medical technology has reached the point where humans can survive to be over 200 years old. It is at this moment that humanity discovers as a species we have a 200 year pupation period. | Part 1 | [Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/jraywang/comments/6bzpkl/angels_and_demons_part_2/) | [Part 2.5](https://www.reddit.com/r/jraywang/comments/6c1mc4/angels_and_demons_part_25/)
---
The first to live to 200 was the billionaire who had invented this medicine. He had hosted a grand party, invited all the news crews, and just as he was giving a speech about how humans had surpassed even God, his body crumpled to the floor. His back split. And in front of a thousand terrified guests and a billion more watching from the internet, he had climbed out of his own back, re-emerging with horns on his head and a red tail.
The first demon had been born. Since then, every person to hit the age of 200 had undergone a similar process. Though some re-emerged with feathered wings of pure white. It turned out, in our obsessive scientific drive, we had only proved the old texts true.
No longer were there countries and nationalities, only humans, demons, and angels. Though never before had the world been so split apart. It was as if all the divides between race, gender, class, and nationality, had been shoved together into a single categorization—angel or demon.
***
“Do you think it’ll hurt?” Miriam squeezed Alex’s hand. She felt his nervous breaths on her lips.
They lay together atop a motel bed. The babysitter had Carrie and both had taken off of work for an entire week just for this moment. Their friends used to call them *the most convenient couple* ever because they shared the same birthday. In fact, they shared nearly everything.
They were the high school sweethearts that everybody had said would break up in college. But they had outlasted college, graduated together, and walked the aisle. Neither could remember a single week where they hadn’t at least seen the other.
Alex returned her squeeze. “I heard it actually feels good.”
Miriam grinned. Both knew how gullible Alex was. “Heard from who?”
He chuckled. “The internet.”
“Well, I promise that it won’t hurt.” She leaned forward and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “Do you believe me?”
“More than I believe the internet.”
Electricity coursed through Miriam’s back. Her body tingled in waves. “Do you feel that?”
Alex rested his forehead atop of hers and closed his eyes.
Bone cracked. Miriam clamped her teeth shut and squeezed the bed sheets. She had to be brave, for Alex’s sake. Still, a yelp escaped her as her body was consumed by a sharp and stabbing pain. Two arms wrapped around her head and pulled her in. Alex’s heartbeat pounded against her ear and despite the pain, she smiled.
***
When she opened her eyes again, the pain was gone. She stood up and looked down at her husk and then at Alex’s. Both had promised that they would reveal the other’s form at the same time, but Miriam already caught the tips of her wings from her peripherals. She could feel them too, like an awkward third arm. She chuckled. It had been a bad plan.
“Alex?” she called. “Are you in here?” Perhaps he was in the bathroom.
Alex’s husk opened its eyes. “Miriam? You’re an angel! That’s what you wanted.”
Miriam stared as his husk got off the bed.
“Oh, shoot!" it said. "I wasn’t supposed to tell you until you were ready, sorry.”
It wasn’t his husk, it was Alex.
He caught her staring and furrowed his brow. “What?”
“You didn’t…” Miriam’s throat tightened, cutting off her words.
Nobody had ever heard of a human living past 200. And if she knew anything about angels and demons, neither would be very happy to have one so old.
“I didn’t what?” Alex asked cautiously. “Miriam, the Inspector will be here soon to ID us. Am I an angel?”
Miriam shook her head.
“Well…” he pressed his lips together. “We can make this work. We always have. I mean, I’m still Alex and you’re still—”
“No Alex,” Miriam whispered. “You’re human.”
---
---
/r/jraywang for 2+ stories a day, continuations by popular request, and more!
| "Are you sure he's fine? He looks so skinny."
"I'd say say not to worry, but this reaction is different from the rest we've observed. He didn't seem to have a lot of fat built up beforehand, so it looks like he's trying to absorb the required nutrients straight out of the air."
The frost on the viewing window started to disappear. If anyone had taken a closer look at the shell, they would have found that little fibers started breaking away.
"It looks like he's moving into the final stage. We have everything prepared, and enough tranquilizers for a herd of elephants."
Suddenly, large chunks of the shell started peeling away, like a reversed time lapse of his forming of the shell. About halfway through the shell's peeling, a pair of smooth, shiny wings punched through the shell.
A deep and muffled voice called from inside the shell. "Can someone turn off the AC? It's getting cold in here!"
"That sounds just like him, always complaining that it's too cold."
The wings easily shredded the shell, and he stood up. His head brushed the 10 foot ceiling, and his wings stretched out, each wing as long as him. Despite gaining 4 feet and no weight, he didn't look emaciated, just streched out like silly putty.
"God, I thought he was hot before. You'd think that after living together for 10 years, I would get used to seeing him. Could we, uh, put off the check ups until maybe tomorrow or the day after?"
The formally shelled man spoke up. "That sounds like a wonderful idea! A burger sounds great right now, and I can't sit still any more."
The doctor thought about it for a second, then acquiessed to their desires. "I suppose it won't hurt. Lemme go get some clothes for you."
"Oh no. He's fine as he is."
The doctor turned around. "What was that? I could hear you."
"Oh, nothing." and quickly blushed.
The giant stretched. "You know what, I feel like I could run forever." and a smirk appeared on his face.
"Now that you're back, I could too. And it would only be a few months before I would pupate too. God, I'm getting horny just thinking about it."
"Sounds like heaven. Pure bliss."
"Angelic." | |
[WP] Finally medical technology has reached the point where humans can survive to be over 200 years old. It is at this moment that humanity discovers as a species we have a 200 year pupation period. | Part 1 | [Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/jraywang/comments/6bzpkl/angels_and_demons_part_2/) | [Part 2.5](https://www.reddit.com/r/jraywang/comments/6c1mc4/angels_and_demons_part_25/)
---
The first to live to 200 was the billionaire who had invented this medicine. He had hosted a grand party, invited all the news crews, and just as he was giving a speech about how humans had surpassed even God, his body crumpled to the floor. His back split. And in front of a thousand terrified guests and a billion more watching from the internet, he had climbed out of his own back, re-emerging with horns on his head and a red tail.
The first demon had been born. Since then, every person to hit the age of 200 had undergone a similar process. Though some re-emerged with feathered wings of pure white. It turned out, in our obsessive scientific drive, we had only proved the old texts true.
No longer were there countries and nationalities, only humans, demons, and angels. Though never before had the world been so split apart. It was as if all the divides between race, gender, class, and nationality, had been shoved together into a single categorization—angel or demon.
***
“Do you think it’ll hurt?” Miriam squeezed Alex’s hand. She felt his nervous breaths on her lips.
They lay together atop a motel bed. The babysitter had Carrie and both had taken off of work for an entire week just for this moment. Their friends used to call them *the most convenient couple* ever because they shared the same birthday. In fact, they shared nearly everything.
They were the high school sweethearts that everybody had said would break up in college. But they had outlasted college, graduated together, and walked the aisle. Neither could remember a single week where they hadn’t at least seen the other.
Alex returned her squeeze. “I heard it actually feels good.”
Miriam grinned. Both knew how gullible Alex was. “Heard from who?”
He chuckled. “The internet.”
“Well, I promise that it won’t hurt.” She leaned forward and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “Do you believe me?”
“More than I believe the internet.”
Electricity coursed through Miriam’s back. Her body tingled in waves. “Do you feel that?”
Alex rested his forehead atop of hers and closed his eyes.
Bone cracked. Miriam clamped her teeth shut and squeezed the bed sheets. She had to be brave, for Alex’s sake. Still, a yelp escaped her as her body was consumed by a sharp and stabbing pain. Two arms wrapped around her head and pulled her in. Alex’s heartbeat pounded against her ear and despite the pain, she smiled.
***
When she opened her eyes again, the pain was gone. She stood up and looked down at her husk and then at Alex’s. Both had promised that they would reveal the other’s form at the same time, but Miriam already caught the tips of her wings from her peripherals. She could feel them too, like an awkward third arm. She chuckled. It had been a bad plan.
“Alex?” she called. “Are you in here?” Perhaps he was in the bathroom.
Alex’s husk opened its eyes. “Miriam? You’re an angel! That’s what you wanted.”
Miriam stared as his husk got off the bed.
“Oh, shoot!" it said. "I wasn’t supposed to tell you until you were ready, sorry.”
It wasn’t his husk, it was Alex.
He caught her staring and furrowed his brow. “What?”
“You didn’t…” Miriam’s throat tightened, cutting off her words.
Nobody had ever heard of a human living past 200. And if she knew anything about angels and demons, neither would be very happy to have one so old.
“I didn’t what?” Alex asked cautiously. “Miriam, the Inspector will be here soon to ID us. Am I an angel?”
Miriam shook her head.
“Well…” he pressed his lips together. “We can make this work. We always have. I mean, I’m still Alex and you’re still—”
“No Alex,” Miriam whispered. “You’re human.”
---
---
/r/jraywang for 2+ stories a day, continuations by popular request, and more!
| "You're old," the doctor says, smiling at the man in faux-sympathy. "You were the first to receive the drug - it's uncharted waters now. That's why we keep such a close eye on you."
"But... this can't be normal, even for the drugs," the old man protests, pulling up the sleeve of his cardigan with a shaking hand, to reveal the torn skin beneath.
"Look, Christian," the doctor sighs as he removes his glasses. "I'm going to be honest with you. Your body is failing, even with the drugs holding you together. From here on in..." he bites his lip, "it's all downhill. I'm sorry."
"I want to go home," the man begs.
"I'm sorry," the doctor lies.
---
"How is he?" the doctor asks a passing nurse, as he heads towards the room where the patient's body rests.
"Stable - still comatose. Look..." she says, pausing briefly. "Can I ask you something, Stephen?"
"Shoot."
"Do you really believe we should be keeping him alive at this point? The pain must be..."
"That's why we keep him in an induced coma, Pam," he says, a little annoyed.
"But... the skin on his belly - it's split apart like some kind of ancient stitching has finally given in. It's happening all over his body. And if we plug one hole, two more appear."
"Pam!" he yells, unable to keep his temper bottled. He takes a few deep breaths and with great effort, speaks slowly and calmly. "We have to know how long we can keep him alive for - so you *will* keep stitching him back together. Think of him as an... experiment, at this point - not a person. The more we know about the latter stages of the drug, the more we can help the next generation."
"Well... I think it's inhumane. Twelve years he's been in that bed. In that coma. What if... what if we're being judged by how we care for him? What would that say about us?" She shakes her head in disgust.
"And who exactly, is there to judge us?" the doctor snaps. "Enough, Pam. Get back to your ward and next time, keep your *opinions* to yourself. Leave the *actual decisions* to the experts."
Pam's head falls as she walks away.
The doctor pushes open the door to where Patient A, formerly *Christian*, is kept.
"What the... *fuck*," he says, as the darkness of the room wraps around him. Only the green glow of the cardiac monitoring device provides any light; an eerie, flashing luminescence. A single straight line runs across its screen.
There is liquid on the floor - he almost slips on the thick syrup as he approaches the bed.
"Christian?" he asks, pushing gently at the patients shoulders. There's no movement. As his eyes begin to adjust to the darkness, he notices two things:
First, he sees the hollow area inside Christian's stomach - *everything* is missing - organs, veins - *everything*.
Next, he sees Pam's body lying the other side of the bed. Her neck is torn open and he instantly realises that the liquid on the floor is her blood.
"P-pam?"
"Yes, doctor?" comes a slow, sibilant voice from behind." He jumps, his heart pumping harder than ever before. Slowly he turns to see the *nurse* standing at the door.
"Pam?"
It shakes its head.
"...*Christian?*"
The nurse smiles and licks its lips before it dives towards him. Its teeth extend out as they tear into his neck.
---
If you liked this at all, I wrote a different horror(ish) response earlier that I'm really happy with. You can read it [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/nickofnight/comments/6bv5n8/wp_they_reworked_the_justice_system_now_in_each/)
| |
[WP] You are Albus Dumbledore. After your death you wake up in a carriage heading towards Helgen after you were found crossing the border of Skyrim. | *What a strange occurrence,* Dumbledore thought to himself. *What a very odd continuation of events this is.*
"Hey you, you’re finally awake." the ragged looking man in front of me said in a Durmstrang accent. "You were trying to cross the border right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush same as us and that thief over there."
"Imperial ambush?" Dumbledore asked. "I'm not quite sure what you mean by that. "
Before the man could supply me with an answer, another fellow in our carriage spoke up. "Damn you Stormcloaks... Skyrim was fine until you came along! Empire was..." he began before Dumbledore interrupted him.
"Excuse me the intrusion, but did you say *Skyrim*?" That earned him an odd look.
"Skyrim, yes. One of the largest provinces in the whole of Tamriël. Are you crazy, old man?" he scuffed when he said that.
"Aren't we all a bit..." Dumbledore answered silently.
"Shut up back there!" the coach driver said. It was then Dumbledore noticed his hands were cuffed.
"Ah, so we're prisoners then," he said to the coach driver while his compagnons were off talking about the fourth, muffled man in their carriage. "May I ask why I am being held in handcuffs, good sir?"
"Shut up back there!" he repeated.
*Well,* Dumbledore thought as he reached for his original wand still hidden safely in his robes, *let's see what this is all about then.*
*Legilimens*
The information that flooded his mind at that moment would have made any normal man go insane. Luckily for Dumbledore though, he was far from a normal man if he could say so himself. Names, places, people and sweetrolls passed through his mind, stuffing his mind with everything relevant about this world that the carriage driver knew about.
"What an interesting turn of events," he mumbled. It was then that a particular [image](http://images4.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20120911012728/elderscrolls/images/4/42/Whiterun.jpg) from the guards memories drew his attention. "Very interesting indeed." *Who would have thought a trace of the deathly hallows was to be found in this parallel world.*
He Apparated. | the carriage ambles along, Albus Dumbledore wakes up, there are people with their hands tied. They smell terrible and they are all white with dirty brown teeth and skin diseases, Nords.
Albus looked around, terrible graphics, definitely needs mods. He instantly knew where he was, Bethesda studios, Skyrim. He knew he shouldn't have signed that crappy contract with Bethesda. "I am fucking Michael Gambon for fucks sake! I don't need shitty Internet nerds with white supremacy delusions to play me as a character!"
He hits the "~" button and types in the cheat for suicide.
The end. | |
[WP]Humanity is facing extinction from their alien invaders. At the risk of permanently damaging History, mankind's greatest generals and strategists - the likes of Hannibal, Sun Tzu and Alexander the Great, are taken from their respective timeline and brought to the present for one last stand. | The leaders of Earth waited nervously as the time machine rumbled and flashed.
A great plan had been devised to rid Planet Earth of the confining rule of the Bhlezkomorphs, an alien race so old that they made Man look like the first Earth fish to peak its evolutionarily infantile head out of the water. The aliens had not been cruel to the mankind. Their studying of the universe had taught them not to damage the universal gene pool by reducing a species' chances of achieving time travel, and thus space travel. Instead the Bhlezkomorphs took a different approach entirely. They would gift pieces of their own technology to any universal species they deemed worthy, and the humans were next in line on that quest.
Mankind saw an acceleration in their development incomparable to anything that had happened before. In hindsight, the renaissance, industrial revolution and even the invention of computers now seemed to have been a painstakingly slow crawl towards advancement.
Man's culture changed. Social advancements on Earth increased lifespans by over 50 years within a decade, crime rates dropped and Planet Earth became united under just 5 global powers, as opposed to the hundreds that bickered and squabbled for centuries before. As a reward for this remarkable achievement, man now held 5 seats at the galactic council for the Milky-Way. Man seemed to have fitted snuggly in to their new role in the universe.
But man remained the same. Man still ached to guide themselves like their ancestors had before them. Man still wanted to be in control of their own destiny, not just a mere cog in the governance of the galaxy. Man recalled upon the great leaders of the past who had taken control of their own destinies and achieved greatness! Endless lists of names spanning all continents filled Man with pride and shame. Shame that they would not voyage and explore or conquer like their ancestors, as they had sold themselves to the Bhlezkomorphs.
That shame was left untreated for 80 years by man. And what was shame for the older generation of Man became anger for the next. Extravagant stories and tales were told to the new generation of galactic humans about how great Man was. His achievements throughout the millennia before having his independence taken from him. This unrealistic view of the nobility of Mankind bread resentment within the younger generations of man, and like countless times before, young humans lusted for revolution.
Over 5 years a plan was devised. Man would call upon his great ancestors one more time in the hope that they would help free their descendants from this slavery. The great generals would be the first to be consulted as they were the strategical minds needed to overthrow the aliens.
Genghis Khan. A man who once wrestled to control almost the entirety of Eurasia would be the one who would help reclaim Man's solar system. Only after that had been achieved could Man then fight on a galactic scale.
15 of the World's most powerful men and women sat eagerly behind their flags in the conference room. The doors were sealed tight, no one outside could know about this great plan. It was only if all 15 agreed to unlock the doors at the same time that they would be opened, this plan could not and would not be foiled.
On the stage before them stood the time machine. It was ironic how technology granted to them by the aliens would also be what was responsible for their downfall.
The machine stopped shuddering and a metal thud coupled with a human groan was heard inside it. It had worked! Before the door opened, the men knew that their forefather, the first Great Ancestor stood behind the door in front of them. Genghis Khan!
The door slowly opened, revealing a man covered from neck to toe in metal. The men gasped in awe. They were the first humans to set eyes upon Khan since his death, millennia ago. His jet black hair lay draped over his shoulders and chest, and a long gleaming sword was held tight in his hand. His wide eyes swept through the room in amazement before settling on the leaders in front of him.
He. Absolutely. Shat. Himself. And butchered everyone in the room. The stupidity of their plan had become apparent. | "well this was an obsequious plan" grunted sergeant Leicestershire of the 138th Northern hemisphere brigade. He watched the battle obsequiously, atop a future horse, which is a breed of horse from the future (or the present, if you're already immersed) but they are 40% bigger than present (old) horses are (were). The horde, led by Genghis Khan, were almost out of arrows. Not one so far had reached the colossal metal craft, which hovered among the future clouds, which are like our clouds except with 40% more aluminium from chemtrails
After a sick plasma cannon melted them all, the sergeant whatsapp'd his report to general Alexander D. Great (for official purposes, middle name can't be 'The' on tax database) but after 10 minutes, the little tick icon hadn't turned blue. "obsequiousness" he grunted. "probably getting fisted by little boys" he continued to grunt. He was always grunting these days, ever since he got sober. "WHY DID YOU BRING ME HERE SOBEK" he grunt-shouted, arms flailing about like unattended garden hoses.
"wake up" said a soft voice in the distance. Leicestershire swore he recognised the tone. "WAKE UP!" demanded the voice again, this time louder, clearer, as if static was giving way to clear signal. "Steve?" grunted the sergeant, softly. And then, a slap. Oregano 'meat feast' Leicestershire jolted upright, in his old surroundings, which are like future surroundings, but with 40% less alien invasion.
"you tried getting on my little sister last night meaty, you need to get sober mate"
| |
[WP]Humanity is facing extinction from their alien invaders. At the risk of permanently damaging History, mankind's greatest generals and strategists - the likes of Hannibal, Sun Tzu and Alexander the Great, are taken from their respective timeline and brought to the present for one last stand. | "*Alea iacta est*."
Julius Caesar gazed at the clear skies. Above, the Terran Fleet hovered, in orbit, the last defence against the alien invaders. At his orders, ten thousand spaceships assembled in formation, and the Roman Consul and Dictator remembered leading the legionary forces in much the same way. Decisive, his conquests in Gaul and the victorious return to Rome were still studied two millennia later and would soon, Jupiter-willing, be reenacted. Caesar had been brought to the future, by means he did not care to understand, to lead the planetary forces against certain extinction, and he did not intend to fail.
******
"*Ave Caesar*", said the cigar-smoker in a thick British accent as he stepped into the command center. Fat and wearing a three piece suit and bow tie, he contrasted sharply with the lean spotless-toga-wearing Roman.
"Mr. Churchill", said Caesar, his Classical Latin instantly translated by a microdevice implanted in the British Bulldog's ear canal, "what is the situation? Be honest - Caesar must not be fooled by his own pride."
The two were alone in a room fitted with the latest technology in military strategy, but the center table was specifically required by the Consul to be equipped with a large two-dimensional map of the conflict areas, from which he could survey and manage the actions of his soldiers the way he had been used to.
"Not too good, oh Caesar. Half our ships are gone; the other half, as good as gone. We must ready for a land assault. The largest threat to Mankind in history is about to fall on our planet, and we have nowhere to fall back. I fully support any attempt to heed their advances, but we must accept, Caesar, that without our military this might be our final hour."
"I conquered Gaul under the banners of SPQR, Mr. Churchill. *Senatus Populusque Romanus* - the Senate and the People of Rome. We may have no military, but we have our people. And so long as we have the gods on our side and a home to fight for, our people will fight. But Caesar is not fooled by his own pride", he repeated, now facing the wartime Prime-Minister. "The people must be behind the leader, and we both know, Mr. Churchill, that my oratory seems not to resonate with the generations of this peculiar future. My words do not instill confidence, they do not create unity, and they will not succeed as a call to arms. Only a patriotic people may successfully set up a resistance against the enemy. I've seen it myself in the battles I've led, and although our planet is now our Patria, our home, its peoples are not inspired, or motivated enough by me, or you, to sacrifice their lives for it."
"What do you suggest, then?" asked Churchill, taking another puff of his half-smoked cuban.
Caesar turned around as he spoke.
"I have been reading on our history, Mr. Churchill, and studied every major conflict since the moment I was betrayed on the Ides of March to the latest territorial scuffle. The need for a charismatic leader is of paramount importance at a time like this." Reaching the map at the center of the room, the Roman statesman looked back at the Englishman. "And you, better than anyone, know exactly who could rally the entire human population - by the power of speech alone - in a last stand against obliteration. A power such as no one has possessed since."
Winston Churchill took a long time to answer. With the aid of a Victorian cane, he walked around the table, calmly finished his cigar, and looked Julius Caesar in the eyes before finally speaking.
"For the sake of Mankind, we must bring back Hitler." | American president: So we are outnumbered, technological inferior, and probably not as clever as them. Any proposes of what to do?
Russian president: Let's spy them.
Chinese president: Let’s nuke them.
French president: Let's surrender.
American president: So nothing really helpful. Then I have a proposal to make. Let’s get out of prison John Hammon, and force him recreate Hannibal Barca, Sun Tzu and Alexander The Great.
Chinese president: John Hammon? You mean the guy from Jurassic Park? I thought he was a movie character.
American president: That’s what we wanted you to believe. But it doesn’t matter anymore. Desperate times, calls for desperate measures.
Russian president: As I recall my friend, he needs their DNA to make it work.
American president: We have a bank, with the DNA of every important man who walked on earth.
Indian president: May I buy the DNA of Freddy Mercury please?
The American president thought about it for a bit. Why not? He could give him a discount for an offer with Jim Morrison or Dio too.
American president: Gentlemen be serious, it’s not the time to recreate rock stars. Anyone else wants to add something?
Japanese president: How about the man who invented Coca-Cola?
The other leaders seemed to agree with the last proposal.
American president: Enough. If you have nothing to say, let’s proceed with the plan.
The American president checked his archives for how much he could sell the Coca-Cola man, and then gave the order, for the preparations to start.
3 hours later, John Hammon came in to announce the results. The leaders wanted him to sign some autographs and told him how good he was in the movie.
John Hammon: Mrs. Presidents, Hannibal’s recreation was a failure.
The leaders got upset and some of them started booing him.
John Hammon made a mentally note with whom he will feed his next dinosaurs.
John Hammon: Sun Tzu claims that we got the wrong guy and the only thing he wanted, was to take a few photos, and have some souvenirs.
Everybody agreed that mistakes like this, happens all the time and that was no one to blame with.
John Hammon: Alexander The Great’s recreation was successful. Right now our staff is informing him, with whatever he missed the last 2000 years. He will be with us any moment now.
5 minutes later a guy with 1,43 height and two different colours in his eyes, came in.
AlexanderTheGreat: Hello kings of the new world. I just got informed from your slaves for all the important matters I need to know, such as politics, geography, twitter etc.
American president: Twitter? How the hell did that happened?
AlexanderTheGreat: One of your slaves with the white clothes, used some kind of sorcery and trapped a glimpse of me, in strange object. Then he wrote: Me and Alexander the Great. A dream came true. And he told me he posted on twitter.
American president thought that he should have some photos too with Alexander before it’s too late.
American president: I assume that you got informed about the situation. What are your thoughts?
AlexanderTheGreat: About the Gods above the earth? Yeah. How many are they?
American president: Around 20 billions.
AlexanderTheGreat: And how about us?
American president: 2 billions
AlexanderTheGreat: All right, not so bad. Do they have better weapons too? How much time do we have before we get engaged?
American president: We assume that they are, since they found us first. 3 or 4 days at most.
AlexanderTheGreat: Ok. Let’s start the preparations. I need 1 billion horses and a way for the battle to happen at Greece, where I know the terrain better.
American president: Alexander.. you know we don’t use horses anymore for battles. And the main battle will be held at space, with spaceships.
AlexanderTheGreat: Spaceships?
The American president goggled for images of spaceships and show Alexander the results.
AlexanderTheGreat: I see. This object you used, what is called?
American president: It’s a laptop.
AlexanderTheGreat: All right I want one of these and someone who can use it. I have to look for some things first. Two more questions. First one, is the battle at space basically at the same level?
American president: Yes it is.
AlexanderTheGreat: So there isn’t any real difference. Second one, I want to have a private chat with the king of Persia.
Iranian president: I assume that must be me…
AlexanderTheGreat: Do you know how to use this laptop?
Iranian president: Yes…
AlexanderTheGreat: As formidable as ever. Come with me.
The two men left together, with the purpose to make a plan to save the world.
2 days later Alexander stated that he learned whatever he needed to learn, especially thanks to some videos called Legends of the Galactic heroes and that he couldn’t understand why they didn’t asked for help, from that marvelous guy Yang Wen-li.
Alexander stared in front of him, the enemy’s millions spaceships and his heart started beating faster. At last he was going to fight again. And he intended to stay unbeatable….
| |
[WP]Humanity is facing extinction from their alien invaders. At the risk of permanently damaging History, mankind's greatest generals and strategists - the likes of Hannibal, Sun Tzu and Alexander the Great, are taken from their respective timeline and brought to the present for one last stand. | "*Alea iacta est*."
Julius Caesar gazed at the clear skies. Above, the Terran Fleet hovered, in orbit, the last defence against the alien invaders. At his orders, ten thousand spaceships assembled in formation, and the Roman Consul and Dictator remembered leading the legionary forces in much the same way. Decisive, his conquests in Gaul and the victorious return to Rome were still studied two millennia later and would soon, Jupiter-willing, be reenacted. Caesar had been brought to the future, by means he did not care to understand, to lead the planetary forces against certain extinction, and he did not intend to fail.
******
"*Ave Caesar*", said the cigar-smoker in a thick British accent as he stepped into the command center. Fat and wearing a three piece suit and bow tie, he contrasted sharply with the lean spotless-toga-wearing Roman.
"Mr. Churchill", said Caesar, his Classical Latin instantly translated by a microdevice implanted in the British Bulldog's ear canal, "what is the situation? Be honest - Caesar must not be fooled by his own pride."
The two were alone in a room fitted with the latest technology in military strategy, but the center table was specifically required by the Consul to be equipped with a large two-dimensional map of the conflict areas, from which he could survey and manage the actions of his soldiers the way he had been used to.
"Not too good, oh Caesar. Half our ships are gone; the other half, as good as gone. We must ready for a land assault. The largest threat to Mankind in history is about to fall on our planet, and we have nowhere to fall back. I fully support any attempt to heed their advances, but we must accept, Caesar, that without our military this might be our final hour."
"I conquered Gaul under the banners of SPQR, Mr. Churchill. *Senatus Populusque Romanus* - the Senate and the People of Rome. We may have no military, but we have our people. And so long as we have the gods on our side and a home to fight for, our people will fight. But Caesar is not fooled by his own pride", he repeated, now facing the wartime Prime-Minister. "The people must be behind the leader, and we both know, Mr. Churchill, that my oratory seems not to resonate with the generations of this peculiar future. My words do not instill confidence, they do not create unity, and they will not succeed as a call to arms. Only a patriotic people may successfully set up a resistance against the enemy. I've seen it myself in the battles I've led, and although our planet is now our Patria, our home, its peoples are not inspired, or motivated enough by me, or you, to sacrifice their lives for it."
"What do you suggest, then?" asked Churchill, taking another puff of his half-smoked cuban.
Caesar turned around as he spoke.
"I have been reading on our history, Mr. Churchill, and studied every major conflict since the moment I was betrayed on the Ides of March to the latest territorial scuffle. The need for a charismatic leader is of paramount importance at a time like this." Reaching the map at the center of the room, the Roman statesman looked back at the Englishman. "And you, better than anyone, know exactly who could rally the entire human population - by the power of speech alone - in a last stand against obliteration. A power such as no one has possessed since."
Winston Churchill took a long time to answer. With the aid of a Victorian cane, he walked around the table, calmly finished his cigar, and looked Julius Caesar in the eyes before finally speaking.
"For the sake of Mankind, we must bring back Hitler." | When the aliens finally attacked, they had been hovering, silently, in the skies above earth for nearly two years. The earths best minds had been planning for this moment since that first interstellar ship had appeared in pictures sent from unmanned probes, out past the edge of our solar system. Based on our best guesses, we figured that the aliens outclassed and outmatched us in nearly every way, except for one. There was no aesthetic to their ships, no proof of creativity or art, no divine spark signifying anything but cold analytical reason. We knew it would require the best of us to survive an attack from these extraterrestrial invaders, but centuries of peace and prosperity had given us advances in science and technology and medicine at the loss of the fighting, competetive nature that had helped us crawl out of the mud and become the dominant species on the planet.
We had created time travel, but built in safeguards and laws such that history could not be rewritten, no matter how we may have abhorred its' progression, at risk of creating an alternate reality even more dire than our own. Some of our greatest minds floated the idea of going back into history and snatching the greatest of us, our top generals, tacticians and strategists from throughout known history, but the risk was too great. Even waiting until Alexander the great was on his deathbed, and healing him to lead us, could irreversibly alter human history in ways no one could fathom. Then a student, a high schooler with a love of the written word, came up with an idea. Throughout history there have been those that have exceeded humanity and approached godhead with their mythology. "When you need me most, I will return." All had made some such promise at the end of their lives, and then disappeared from record. So we went back in time, to King Arthur, to Hercules, to every mythical leader and general, and pulled them forward to the future. All understood the sacrifice, the knowledge that they had promised their people the best and their people had survived until now, when the threat is greatest.
When they attacked, we were ready. | |
[WP] They sat on the couch, trying to work it out. | Continuing a date beyond the first setting was not something Rose knew how to do. However, as soon as she and Violet were out of the coffee shop, she had to think of somewhere to go, and fast. Rose's apartment was warm.
The two girls entered together, and Rose went immediately to the kitchen. She brought down two white mugs that looked as though they had come out of a kitchen set from the 1970's. In fact, all of her kitchen items were either straight out of the 70s, or else cheap plastic from the dollar store.
She looked back to where Violet was standing. Violet was not looking at her. She was taking in the whole place at once. Small as it was, there were trinkets everywhere. All the surfaces were cluttered. Papers, trinkets, books. She wondered how long until Violet took a look at her bookcase.
But, she didn't. Instead, she walked over to the couch. Rose's couch also looked like it was from another decade. It was far too big for the living room, everything else had been obviously positioned around it. The damask pattern on the beige upholstery was barely visible. Violet's dark jeans contrasted with it, and Rose spent a long moment studying the curves of her legs.
Violet stopped studying the room to look at Rose. Rose flicked her eyes to the coffee table. She knew it was useless though, she'd been caught. The mugs were still empty. What was she going to put in them, anyway? She still didn't know if Violet even liked coffee, and it isn't like she had any tea. She looked back at Violet to find her blue eyes still fixed on her. She felt her cheeks getting hot, and rested her hand on the counter.
"Doing okay over there? Can I... um.. Can I get you something to drink?" she offered.
This wasn't going well at all. Too much time had passed between now and when they'd first arrived. She should have said something. She put the mugs in the sink and filled them with water before Violet could make a reply.
Rose chewed at her lip. Violet, having seen the mugs get filled with water, smiled encouragingly. She bit her lip too, but purposefully. Playfully. Her smile reached her eyes.
"Are you going to make me wait all evening, or are you going to come over here?" Violet asked. She patted the cushion beside her.
As Rose walked from the kitchen into the living room, Violet stretched out. She straightened her legs, and put her arm across the back of the sofa. The lack of confidence Violet had displayed just a few hours ago at the coffee shop was gone. Which version was the real version?
Rose sat across from Violet. She pressed against the side of the couch. She was trying to put some distance physically between them out of respect. She was also trying to take a step back from her pounding heart. This situation. Being here, with this woman, in her apartment. It was a lot.
Violet reached across the sofa, and set her hand in the centre. Her palm was open. An invitation. Rose looked down at Violet's hand, and then up into her face. A long moment passed.
The moment dragged on. Too long. Violet slowly retracted her hand from the sofa cushion. She drew her legs in, and looked down at the coffee table again. Her eyes fixed on a wooden frog. Rose looked at the frog too. She felt her tongue fat in her mouth, unable to manipulate it into making even a croak. She felt like a toad, covered in bog slime, fat and brown.
She took a sip from her mug, and the water was soothing. She did not take her eyes off the frog, and she opened her mouth again. Her voice was high, but quiet. "Do you think, maybe, you would ask me to hold hands with you again?"
---
If you liked this, you can find me over at /r/saltandcedar for your daily sodium intake. | She put down the handset.
'So... If your mother is dead, and it was a woman's voice... '
They looked at each other, uneasy. An almost electric atmosphere between them, he swallowed a lump in his throat and spoke up.
'If it wasn't your mother, then...
*who was phone?*' | |
[WP] They sat on the couch, trying to work it out. | It was funny really. After all this time, all these years we should meet in an Ikea, of all places. I was here looking at couches for my new apartment, when I saw her.
She hadn’t changed. Of course not. She was wearing yellow top and black leggings. Her dark black hair had a single streak of red on the side, matching her slightly red eye liner and blood red lips. She was frowning at the same couch I’d been looking at a moment ago, tapping her designer heels against the floor impatiently, chewing on her lower lip like she used to all those years ago whenever she was thinking. I practically swayed physically at the barrage of memories that old gesture brought back. The neon nights, the carefree days...damn.
She looked up.
Our eyes met.
Her eyes went completely wide, her emerald irises actually dilating in shock, as she took me in. My checkered button down shirt, my black jeans, my hands in their pockets. I flashed her a ghost of a smile. She wasn’t the only one who hadn’t changed.
I opened my mouth to say something, but she did too, and I closed it so she could speak first, but she did the same. So we stood there like idiots for a moment, then burst out laughing. She came towards me, closing the gap, her arms outstretched, for a second I thought she was going to kiss me, like she had done all those years ago, but she stopped at the last moment, and held back. We came together, not as parted lovers, but as friends who once knew each other. We hugged but did not touch, we were together, but held ourselves carefully, deliberately apart.
She broke apart before I did, and we stared at each other again.
My throat dry, I spoke, “Hey, Lisa.”
The right side of her lip quirked up slightly. God, had she changed *at all*? “Hey? Come, on now Hank, you can do better than that.”
I rolled my eyes at her and she grinned. “Come on, now,” she said, “sit down, I mean I know I’m stunning, but geez, you look like you’re about to faint in shock.”
I sat down with a sigh, and smiled at her, “you didn’t fare that much better either” I said, and pulled her down on the couch next to me, “you look like you were having a stroke.”
Silence.
“So,” she said.
“So,” I echoed.
“How...how have you been. Making the big bucks” she asked with a slight frown.
“Fine, fine,” I said. “I’m an investment banker.”
“Oh. That’s nice.” Lisa shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
“Yeah….what about you? I’ve seen you on the news, fashion shows and all that.”
She shrugged. “It is what it is,” then she frowned. “You’ve been watching my shows?”
I felt my cheeks heat up and I turned away. “No...I mean, sometimes it comes on the normal news, you know? Not like I specifically look for your designs or anything.”
She laughed, “You *do,* oh my god, all these years and you still look for me!”
I whirled towards her, furious for a moment. “Yeah well of course I do, geez, you know I never got ov-” I stopped myself and looked away again.
Her hand on my hand.
I looked towards her, and she wasn’t laughing anymore, her eyes were sad, very sad. “Look, hank. My caree-”
“I know, I know,” I waved my other hand, “I thought the same. Career is more important than love. The time for Career is now, I had all life left for love.”
Lisa smiled, a real smile, not mocking. “Maybe there’s a bit of life left?”
I smiled back. “There just might.”
She didn’t move her hand.
Neither did I.
| Marcus sat on his sister's ratty couch, holding their dead mother's will in his hands. The document was short—only three pages—and he flipped back to the beginning after reading it. He shook his head.
"I don't understand, Sarah. Why would she do this?"
Sarah perched on the edge of the couch, carefully placing two cups of tea onto the plain coffee table in front of her. She gently took the papers from her brother's hands.
"It's ok. She's gone." Sarah laid the papers flat on the table. "We don't have to do what it says."
The cuffs of Marcus' dress shirt rode up his forearms as he covered his face with both hands, revealing old wrist tattoos on top of even older scars. He sniffled.
"She wrote me out, sis. On purpose. She could have just left everything to you." Marcus looked at his sister, his eyes red and puffy. "She paid some asshole lawyer to specifically write in her will, 'I purposefully leave nothing for my son.' Who does that?"
Sarah looked down and plucked at the sleeves of her own purple cardigan. She sighed. "It was hard for her, at the end. She got really... bitter."
Marcus crossed the room and retrieved a tissue from a box on the dining room table. He wiped his nose. "It doesn't matter. I don't need any of it anyway. It just hurts, is all." He tossed the tissue in a wastebasket. "I was just hoping maybe we could, you know, come together before the end."
R'hlor the Dread Scorpion, sitting in their mother's lazyboy in the corner, scoffed.
["Imagine how I feel, Human Brother."](#sc) The extraterrestrial dragonoid shifted uncomfortably and smoothed the floral-patterned slip cover on the lazyboy. ["I wasn't even mentioned by Human Mother."](#sc)
Marcus and Sarah looked at each other and rolled their eyes.
"Shut up, weirdo," Marcus said. "You were adopted anyway."
["That's very hurtful, Human Brother,"](#sc) R'hlor said. ["Very hurtful, indeed."](#sc)
*****
Sorry lost interest in writing the rest of my response. :D | |
[WP] They sat on the couch, trying to work it out. | It was funny really. After all this time, all these years we should meet in an Ikea, of all places. I was here looking at couches for my new apartment, when I saw her.
She hadn’t changed. Of course not. She was wearing yellow top and black leggings. Her dark black hair had a single streak of red on the side, matching her slightly red eye liner and blood red lips. She was frowning at the same couch I’d been looking at a moment ago, tapping her designer heels against the floor impatiently, chewing on her lower lip like she used to all those years ago whenever she was thinking. I practically swayed physically at the barrage of memories that old gesture brought back. The neon nights, the carefree days...damn.
She looked up.
Our eyes met.
Her eyes went completely wide, her emerald irises actually dilating in shock, as she took me in. My checkered button down shirt, my black jeans, my hands in their pockets. I flashed her a ghost of a smile. She wasn’t the only one who hadn’t changed.
I opened my mouth to say something, but she did too, and I closed it so she could speak first, but she did the same. So we stood there like idiots for a moment, then burst out laughing. She came towards me, closing the gap, her arms outstretched, for a second I thought she was going to kiss me, like she had done all those years ago, but she stopped at the last moment, and held back. We came together, not as parted lovers, but as friends who once knew each other. We hugged but did not touch, we were together, but held ourselves carefully, deliberately apart.
She broke apart before I did, and we stared at each other again.
My throat dry, I spoke, “Hey, Lisa.”
The right side of her lip quirked up slightly. God, had she changed *at all*? “Hey? Come, on now Hank, you can do better than that.”
I rolled my eyes at her and she grinned. “Come on, now,” she said, “sit down, I mean I know I’m stunning, but geez, you look like you’re about to faint in shock.”
I sat down with a sigh, and smiled at her, “you didn’t fare that much better either” I said, and pulled her down on the couch next to me, “you look like you were having a stroke.”
Silence.
“So,” she said.
“So,” I echoed.
“How...how have you been. Making the big bucks” she asked with a slight frown.
“Fine, fine,” I said. “I’m an investment banker.”
“Oh. That’s nice.” Lisa shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
“Yeah….what about you? I’ve seen you on the news, fashion shows and all that.”
She shrugged. “It is what it is,” then she frowned. “You’ve been watching my shows?”
I felt my cheeks heat up and I turned away. “No...I mean, sometimes it comes on the normal news, you know? Not like I specifically look for your designs or anything.”
She laughed, “You *do,* oh my god, all these years and you still look for me!”
I whirled towards her, furious for a moment. “Yeah well of course I do, geez, you know I never got ov-” I stopped myself and looked away again.
Her hand on my hand.
I looked towards her, and she wasn’t laughing anymore, her eyes were sad, very sad. “Look, hank. My caree-”
“I know, I know,” I waved my other hand, “I thought the same. Career is more important than love. The time for Career is now, I had all life left for love.”
Lisa smiled, a real smile, not mocking. “Maybe there’s a bit of life left?”
I smiled back. “There just might.”
She didn’t move her hand.
Neither did I.
| "I know you don't want to believe that I'm right, but you're just going to need to trust me," I inhaled sharply and waited for his response. It was obvious that he didn't trust me or believe that what I'd told him was true.
"I don't believe you!" His words echoed against the walls, his eyes reddened with anger.
"I'm not sure why you are getting so angry. I'm trying to help you." This was my attempt to diffuse his anger, I could tell if it was working.
He threw the book he was holding onto the floor and started toward the door. I stood to follow, but decided we needed a time out from the argument.
A few minutes later, he returned to sit beside me and put his face into his hands in defeat. I patted the back of his head to reassure him.
"If you would have listened to me in the first place, this wouldn't be happening." The words mechanically rolled off of my tongue, because I say them on a daily basis.
He sobbed. Looking at me, he said the words that some women spending their lives waiting so long to hear. "Mommy, you're right. I should have just listened the first time when you told me 0 plus 0 is always going to be 0." | |
[WP] God is confused because despite the fact you are a 6 time lottery winner, have a multi million dollar house, a beautiful spouse, and accidentally discovered the cure for cancer, your luck stat is set to 1. | God, demanding answers, descended from the heavens, appearing right in font of the mansion of one Steve Vikavolt. He rang the doorbell, and after no one answered the door for a few seconds, he bellowed in a divine voice "I am the Lord Almighty, the father of all mankind. The one who oversees the heavens and the earth. And I demand you open this door!"
A short while later, a man wearing expansive clothes opened the door, Steve Vikavolt. "How rude of me too keep you, of all people waiting. Why don't you come in, have a seat."
God nodded, and walked in, ducking his head as he entered (god was quite a bit taller than the average man). As god and Steve walked to the lounge, God drew a lot of strange looks from the servants. God paid them no mind, they were all his children of course, but they were not what he was here for.
As he sat down on a chair, Steve sat down across from him. "So, what sort of thing could a mortal like me be doing to attract the attention of the lord himself."
"I THINK YOU KNOW FULL WELL WHAT YOU ARE DOING, STEVE VIKAVOLT. AS PART OF MY DIVINE PLAN, I HAVE ALLOCATED YOUR LUCK STAT A VALUE OF ONE, THE VALUE OF WHICH, I SHOULD POINT OUT, CAN GO AS HIGH AS IN THE THOUSANDS, AND YET YOU LIVE IN A BEAUTIFULL MANSION, YOU HAVE DISCOVERED THE CURE FOR CANCER, AND YOU HAVE WON THE LOTTERY SIX TIMES." Spoke the lord.
"Not to mention my beautiful wife." said Steve.
"INDEED. I MUST KNOW HOW, HOW ARE YOU ABLE TO DEFY MY PLANS!" spoke the lord.
At this point, Steve's wife entered the room, carrying a tea kettle with her.
"Oh, that's simple. Just a little thing we like to call human ingenuity. Though I must say, I thought all this wouldn't be enough. And yet, here you are." Said Steve.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU THOUGHT THIS WOULDN'T BE ENOUGH?"
Suddenly, god heard a click sound, and felt a tightening sensation around his hands.
"WHAT IS THIS!" said god, as he turned around and saw Steve’s wife behind him, who had just handcuffed his hands together.
"Samantha Rockruff, FBI. I'm placing you arrest for charges of several billion violations of the Good Samaritan law. As well as playing an indirect role in committing every crime that has ever existed." spoke Samantha, a confident smile on her face.
"YOU WOULD ARREST ME? THE LORD HIMSELF? IMPOSSIBLE!" The lord spoke, as he struggled against his handcuffs. However, even with his divine power, he felt he could not break free.
"HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE!" spoke the lord.
"Easy" spoke Samantha. "Once we found out that Steve's luck was at one, we simply committed to giving him unbearable torture only if this plan succeeded."
"I was kind of hoping it wouldn't." said Steve.
"You should've known better the day that bear bit off your genitals." said Samantha. "and yeah, I know about that, it was on your record. "
"Anyways, the house is obviously not Steve’s, the lotteries were fake, the cure for cancer was a hoax. It was all to draw your attention. Once we discovered we could read people's 'stats' it became clear that there was some sort of god running things behind the scenes. So we set up this trap, hoping that you would be confused by the difference between Steve’s stats and results. Sure, the plan was a long shot, but we did commit to torturing someone with a luck stat of one if it succeeded, so we were optimistic." Spoke Samantha. "That’s human ingenuity for you."
"BUT WHY CAN I NOT ESCAPE THESE HANDCUFFS!" shouted the lord in anger, thunder crashing down nearby as he spoke.
"We committed to actually giving Steve the mansion if you broke free." said Samantha, a smirk on her face. "Also, I promised Steve I’d actually marry him. So, in a sense, I guess it’s your own power keeping you at bay. I’m not too sure on the details there. I’m just here because I’m the only one who had the balls to arrest god."
The lord struggled against his cuffs, trying to use every ounce of his divine powers to break free, but he found he could not.
"Godamnit" said Steve.
"DO NOT USE MY NAME IN VEIN!" spoke the lord.
"See, it's crap like this why we're arresting you. Because you assigned my shitty luck stat to one, I'm going to have to go through unbearable torture." Said Steve.
"IT IS ALL PART OF MY DIVINE PLAN!" spoke the lord.
"Well we don't approve of your plan." spoke Samantha. "Any plan which calls for humans to suffer and die, many of who were good people, doesn't sound like the sort of plan we’d approve of."
And so the lord went to face justice.
And Steve definitely did not live happily ever after.
| The hell? What's wrong with this thing? Ugh, it's Trump all over again. Well, at least with him, I know it's because I set Putin's "sleazy" to 99, but what's up with this guy, Greg? Intelligence is 40, charm is 30, strength is 10, courage is 5, and luck is 1. Is it his kindness at 80?! Nah, that can't be right. I set Lincoln's at 80 and that guy got shot. So what the hell is up with Greg? Well, I have to figure this out before the other guys stop by for poker night. They'll never let me rule this down.
Alright, Greg Harris, born May 28. Got hit by a car at age 4, then got attacked by squirrels during the hospital trip. So far so good. At age 6, he wet his pants in school and subsequently got the name "liquid Greg." Then at age 10, he returned a library book on time, but still got charged the late fee. At age 15, he witnessed his mom and dad having intercourse, but got stuck under the bed so he had to listen to the entire 4 minutes of moaning. At age 16, he failed his driver's test 5 times. At age 19, he overpaid for a Honda Civic, which he promptly wrecked after he swerved to avoid a family of squirrels.... Aha! At the age of 21, he went to India and didn't receive diarrhoea. Ok, so something happened to him in India. What could it be? *knock knock*
Oh crap, the guys are here. "Hey Big G, Zeus and *CENSORED* are coming soon with the snacks. I brought the tofu chips cuz I know you won't eat it," said Buddha. "Oh hey Bubs, I'm trying to figure out why this guy Greg is so lucky. He won the lottery way more than he should, and this all happened when he went to India. I need to figure this out before *CENSORED* gets here. You know how much that guy likes to laugh at my mistakes. Any ideas?"
"Oh, Greg! Yeah, he converted to Buddhism," laughed Buddha.
"What?! But the stats I gave him should still factor in. Who was he before he became Greg?
"Man Big G, you're a buzzkill. Fine, he had a weird name. Herbie? Haroine?"
"Harambe?"
"Yeah!"
"Oh." | |
[WP] God is confused because despite the fact you are a 6 time lottery winner, have a multi million dollar house, a beautiful spouse, and accidentally discovered the cure for cancer, your luck stat is set to 1. | "What. The. Fuck."
God checked the screen again, unblinking, utterly baffled by what he saw. This man had...defied...probability, and yet his luck stat was a 1. Not only was any one of the incredible events occuring to him extremely improbable, the chance of multiple was nigh-impossible.
And yet, Stanley lived a charmed life. Satisfying job, millionaire, beautiful wife, saviour of millions by sheer accident. This made no sense. Not only was his luck hilariously small, his other stats were rather modest too. 14 Strength, 13 Dexterity, 12 Constitution, 14 Intelligence, 10 Wisdom and 10 Charisma. None of that could account for his inexplicable success.
He pored over Stanley's screen. How. How? HOW?
Then, he saw it.
He saw the fucking "-1" for Luck, instead of 1. And then, God sighed, placing his face into his palm.
"Fucking Stack Overflow." | The hell? What's wrong with this thing? Ugh, it's Trump all over again. Well, at least with him, I know it's because I set Putin's "sleazy" to 99, but what's up with this guy, Greg? Intelligence is 40, charm is 30, strength is 10, courage is 5, and luck is 1. Is it his kindness at 80?! Nah, that can't be right. I set Lincoln's at 80 and that guy got shot. So what the hell is up with Greg? Well, I have to figure this out before the other guys stop by for poker night. They'll never let me rule this down.
Alright, Greg Harris, born May 28. Got hit by a car at age 4, then got attacked by squirrels during the hospital trip. So far so good. At age 6, he wet his pants in school and subsequently got the name "liquid Greg." Then at age 10, he returned a library book on time, but still got charged the late fee. At age 15, he witnessed his mom and dad having intercourse, but got stuck under the bed so he had to listen to the entire 4 minutes of moaning. At age 16, he failed his driver's test 5 times. At age 19, he overpaid for a Honda Civic, which he promptly wrecked after he swerved to avoid a family of squirrels.... Aha! At the age of 21, he went to India and didn't receive diarrhoea. Ok, so something happened to him in India. What could it be? *knock knock*
Oh crap, the guys are here. "Hey Big G, Zeus and *CENSORED* are coming soon with the snacks. I brought the tofu chips cuz I know you won't eat it," said Buddha. "Oh hey Bubs, I'm trying to figure out why this guy Greg is so lucky. He won the lottery way more than he should, and this all happened when he went to India. I need to figure this out before *CENSORED* gets here. You know how much that guy likes to laugh at my mistakes. Any ideas?"
"Oh, Greg! Yeah, he converted to Buddhism," laughed Buddha.
"What?! But the stats I gave him should still factor in. Who was he before he became Greg?
"Man Big G, you're a buzzkill. Fine, he had a weird name. Herbie? Haroine?"
"Harambe?"
"Yeah!"
"Oh." | |
[WP] God is confused because despite the fact you are a 6 time lottery winner, have a multi million dollar house, a beautiful spouse, and accidentally discovered the cure for cancer, your luck stat is set to 1. | God, having finished looking down upon other worlds, finally decided it was Earth's turn again. It had been a 100 years since God last checked Earth, and he was rather curious to see what had changed. He focused, so he could see what was happening on Earth like it was on top of his palm.
"Well... Oh, that's nice... Wait, no. Those idiots still haven't figured it out yet? I thought I left enough hints... Maybe I should have lowered the median value for impulsive actions..."
God mumbled on to himself for a while, mostly lamenting on humanity's stupidity. Finally, with a resigned sigh, he tried to find the silver lining.
"Ah, at least they finally found the cure to cancer. I thought they would never get it. I wonder who it was that found it."
It wasn't very hard. The discovery was rather recent, so the media was still going on about it. How Thomas 'accidentally' discovered the cure to cancer. God was rather impressed. Sometimes the world would do this, throw the dice and out comes a human with an unbelievably high luck stat. God narrowed his attention to this Thomas, and looked at his surroundings. He was a suprisingly young man, only in his mid-30's. As expected of a man who discovered the cure to cancer, he was extremely succesful. His house was almost fitting of the name 'architecture'. His wife, who Thomas met in high school and went to the same university as he, was stunningly beautiful- although Thomas himself was not so irresistable. God hesitated momentarily. Humans with high luck tended to be beautiful, if not at least moderately attractive in whatever aesthetic standards humans had in that timeline. God decided to check his stats.
"Strength and Dexterity is low, but I guess that's understandable. He wouldn't have time for workouts, I suppose. Intelligence- is 5? What, did this guy luck his way into college? Luck- ...No. No way."
God's focus wavered for a while from the shock. 1? Seriously? A person with 1 luck could just as easily die as an average person caught a cold. A human with 1 luck could *not* have found the cure to cancer. God decided to go into his all-knowing mode. He didn't utilize this mode very frequently as it made everything boring, but he had to know the secret behind this one.
A life flashed before God's eyes. Not Thomas's. It was Thomas's wife, Adrianna. She was meeting Thomas for the first time. Adrianna was a kind hearted soul, and pitied Thomas who was always walking in and out of the nurse's office. Thomas wasn't the best human on Earth, but he was human enough to accept help with gratitude when it was given to him. Thomas, unlike many who had tried to flirt with Adrianna before, did not harass her or force her, and he really was caring. He made Adrianna comfortable. So when Thomas asked if she would go out with him, she said yes.
Now, Adrianna wasn't *just* kind. She was also extremely clever. She became the greatest teacher Thomas had ever met, and Thomas improved drastically, enough to make it into university. Adrianna went to the same college as him and handheld him to lead him through it all. When they eventually got married, Adrianna had a respectable job at a renowned research center- but no one would take Thomas. He was better than he used to be, but... there were many more even better than he. So Adrianna devised a plan. She found a cure for cancer-it took her only 8 years-and made it look like Thomas found it. Thomas always tried so hard he deserved something nice, Adrianna figured. She could always make another great scientific discovery anyway, if she decided she wanted some fame and glory too.
God broke out of his all-knowing state and sighed. Really, he should have balanced humans better. He checked Adrianna's stats, and the result was exactly what he had initially expected for Thomas- Extremely high Luck, accompanied with extremely high Intelligence. | The hell? What's wrong with this thing? Ugh, it's Trump all over again. Well, at least with him, I know it's because I set Putin's "sleazy" to 99, but what's up with this guy, Greg? Intelligence is 40, charm is 30, strength is 10, courage is 5, and luck is 1. Is it his kindness at 80?! Nah, that can't be right. I set Lincoln's at 80 and that guy got shot. So what the hell is up with Greg? Well, I have to figure this out before the other guys stop by for poker night. They'll never let me rule this down.
Alright, Greg Harris, born May 28. Got hit by a car at age 4, then got attacked by squirrels during the hospital trip. So far so good. At age 6, he wet his pants in school and subsequently got the name "liquid Greg." Then at age 10, he returned a library book on time, but still got charged the late fee. At age 15, he witnessed his mom and dad having intercourse, but got stuck under the bed so he had to listen to the entire 4 minutes of moaning. At age 16, he failed his driver's test 5 times. At age 19, he overpaid for a Honda Civic, which he promptly wrecked after he swerved to avoid a family of squirrels.... Aha! At the age of 21, he went to India and didn't receive diarrhoea. Ok, so something happened to him in India. What could it be? *knock knock*
Oh crap, the guys are here. "Hey Big G, Zeus and *CENSORED* are coming soon with the snacks. I brought the tofu chips cuz I know you won't eat it," said Buddha. "Oh hey Bubs, I'm trying to figure out why this guy Greg is so lucky. He won the lottery way more than he should, and this all happened when he went to India. I need to figure this out before *CENSORED* gets here. You know how much that guy likes to laugh at my mistakes. Any ideas?"
"Oh, Greg! Yeah, he converted to Buddhism," laughed Buddha.
"What?! But the stats I gave him should still factor in. Who was he before he became Greg?
"Man Big G, you're a buzzkill. Fine, he had a weird name. Herbie? Haroine?"
"Harambe?"
"Yeah!"
"Oh." | |
[WP] God is confused because despite the fact you are a 6 time lottery winner, have a multi million dollar house, a beautiful spouse, and accidentally discovered the cure for cancer, your luck stat is set to 1. | "What. The. Fuck."
God checked the screen again, unblinking, utterly baffled by what he saw. This man had...defied...probability, and yet his luck stat was a 1. Not only was any one of the incredible events occuring to him extremely improbable, the chance of multiple was nigh-impossible.
And yet, Stanley lived a charmed life. Satisfying job, millionaire, beautiful wife, saviour of millions by sheer accident. This made no sense. Not only was his luck hilariously small, his other stats were rather modest too. 14 Strength, 13 Dexterity, 12 Constitution, 14 Intelligence, 10 Wisdom and 10 Charisma. None of that could account for his inexplicable success.
He pored over Stanley's screen. How. How? HOW?
Then, he saw it.
He saw the fucking "-1" for Luck, instead of 1. And then, God sighed, placing his face into his palm.
"Fucking Stack Overflow." | Ok big empty white space this can't be good. I think to myself as I sit up. It's like those 90s cartoons when the characters bust the forth wall and out of the panel.
I stand up and immediately trip as a giant pendulum axe swings by where my head once was.
"God fucking damn it." I hear a booming voice sound as my heart's pounding.
"Hello?" I call out nerviously just before I am unceremoniously dropped back into another cleared white space. This time I notice in glowing green text like that in old school computers the word DEBUG suspended the air.
Out of thin air, cars spawn, guns fire, pianos rain form the sky and even a series of explosions go off. A moment passes before i open an eye. The mess and carnage forms a neat barrier around me.
"Damn it, really. Dave come here." The voice booms again.
"What?"
"See this npc I can't get him to die by traps even though his luck stat is one."
"Oh let me see."
A couple of moments pass and the world resets again.
"Oh you had it effectively as a Boolean and 1 is true so he was the luckiest guy. I fixed that, it's now out of ten."
The debug goes from red to green and the setup of cars, guns, pianos, and explosions starts up a new...
Aw fuck. | |
[WP] God is confused because despite the fact you are a 6 time lottery winner, have a multi million dollar house, a beautiful spouse, and accidentally discovered the cure for cancer, your luck stat is set to 1. | "What. The. Fuck."
God checked the screen again, unblinking, utterly baffled by what he saw. This man had...defied...probability, and yet his luck stat was a 1. Not only was any one of the incredible events occuring to him extremely improbable, the chance of multiple was nigh-impossible.
And yet, Stanley lived a charmed life. Satisfying job, millionaire, beautiful wife, saviour of millions by sheer accident. This made no sense. Not only was his luck hilariously small, his other stats were rather modest too. 14 Strength, 13 Dexterity, 12 Constitution, 14 Intelligence, 10 Wisdom and 10 Charisma. None of that could account for his inexplicable success.
He pored over Stanley's screen. How. How? HOW?
Then, he saw it.
He saw the fucking "-1" for Luck, instead of 1. And then, God sighed, placing his face into his palm.
"Fucking Stack Overflow." | God, demanding answers, descended from the heavens, appearing right in font of the mansion of one Steve Vikavolt. He rang the doorbell, and after no one answered the door for a few seconds, he bellowed in a divine voice "I am the Lord Almighty, the father of all mankind. The one who oversees the heavens and the earth. And I demand you open this door!"
A short while later, a man wearing expansive clothes opened the door, Steve Vikavolt. "How rude of me too keep you, of all people waiting. Why don't you come in, have a seat."
God nodded, and walked in, ducking his head as he entered (god was quite a bit taller than the average man). As god and Steve walked to the lounge, God drew a lot of strange looks from the servants. God paid them no mind, they were all his children of course, but they were not what he was here for.
As he sat down on a chair, Steve sat down across from him. "So, what sort of thing could a mortal like me be doing to attract the attention of the lord himself."
"I THINK YOU KNOW FULL WELL WHAT YOU ARE DOING, STEVE VIKAVOLT. AS PART OF MY DIVINE PLAN, I HAVE ALLOCATED YOUR LUCK STAT A VALUE OF ONE, THE VALUE OF WHICH, I SHOULD POINT OUT, CAN GO AS HIGH AS IN THE THOUSANDS, AND YET YOU LIVE IN A BEAUTIFULL MANSION, YOU HAVE DISCOVERED THE CURE FOR CANCER, AND YOU HAVE WON THE LOTTERY SIX TIMES." Spoke the lord.
"Not to mention my beautiful wife." said Steve.
"INDEED. I MUST KNOW HOW, HOW ARE YOU ABLE TO DEFY MY PLANS!" spoke the lord.
At this point, Steve's wife entered the room, carrying a tea kettle with her.
"Oh, that's simple. Just a little thing we like to call human ingenuity. Though I must say, I thought all this wouldn't be enough. And yet, here you are." Said Steve.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU THOUGHT THIS WOULDN'T BE ENOUGH?"
Suddenly, god heard a click sound, and felt a tightening sensation around his hands.
"WHAT IS THIS!" said god, as he turned around and saw Steve’s wife behind him, who had just handcuffed his hands together.
"Samantha Rockruff, FBI. I'm placing you arrest for charges of several billion violations of the Good Samaritan law. As well as playing an indirect role in committing every crime that has ever existed." spoke Samantha, a confident smile on her face.
"YOU WOULD ARREST ME? THE LORD HIMSELF? IMPOSSIBLE!" The lord spoke, as he struggled against his handcuffs. However, even with his divine power, he felt he could not break free.
"HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE!" spoke the lord.
"Easy" spoke Samantha. "Once we found out that Steve's luck was at one, we simply committed to giving him unbearable torture only if this plan succeeded."
"I was kind of hoping it wouldn't." said Steve.
"You should've known better the day that bear bit off your genitals." said Samantha. "and yeah, I know about that, it was on your record. "
"Anyways, the house is obviously not Steve’s, the lotteries were fake, the cure for cancer was a hoax. It was all to draw your attention. Once we discovered we could read people's 'stats' it became clear that there was some sort of god running things behind the scenes. So we set up this trap, hoping that you would be confused by the difference between Steve’s stats and results. Sure, the plan was a long shot, but we did commit to torturing someone with a luck stat of one if it succeeded, so we were optimistic." Spoke Samantha. "That’s human ingenuity for you."
"BUT WHY CAN I NOT ESCAPE THESE HANDCUFFS!" shouted the lord in anger, thunder crashing down nearby as he spoke.
"We committed to actually giving Steve the mansion if you broke free." said Samantha, a smirk on her face. "Also, I promised Steve I’d actually marry him. So, in a sense, I guess it’s your own power keeping you at bay. I’m not too sure on the details there. I’m just here because I’m the only one who had the balls to arrest god."
The lord struggled against his cuffs, trying to use every ounce of his divine powers to break free, but he found he could not.
"Godamnit" said Steve.
"DO NOT USE MY NAME IN VEIN!" spoke the lord.
"See, it's crap like this why we're arresting you. Because you assigned my shitty luck stat to one, I'm going to have to go through unbearable torture." Said Steve.
"IT IS ALL PART OF MY DIVINE PLAN!" spoke the lord.
"Well we don't approve of your plan." spoke Samantha. "Any plan which calls for humans to suffer and die, many of who were good people, doesn't sound like the sort of plan we’d approve of."
And so the lord went to face justice.
And Steve definitely did not live happily ever after.
| |
[WP] The world ends. As it turns out, God is real. He decides to let everybody into heaven, but not without an awkward conversation with some atheists. | Well I guess this is it huh, never thought my demise would be met by sour thai food. I guess this is what I get for mocking the phone girl after I finished spelling out my address for the sixth time. The light around me begins to fade into darkness... just as I'd always known, no life flash, no soul blooming from my torso, time to eat some dirt.
"What's up shithead?"
What the fuck was that, I must have lived, but I can't see a god damn thing its too bright in here, I heard the doctors talking behind their clip boards, I was done, toast, finished, suppose i've beat the odds
"Nah man, take a look up, you're dead, trust me, I made sure of it myself"
"Who the f... wait a second, how did you know what I was just thinking?"
"I know everything that ever has, or currently is racing that feeble mind of yours"
"Alright man, c'mon for real who are you, where am I, and who signed me out of the hospital?"
"Do I really have to have this cliche moment where I spell this out for you man, i'm getting sick of you non believers needing the whole run down when you get here, do your research, for christs sake... You've died Anthony, welcome to the eternal paradise, heaven."
"Yeah alright pal, this ain't Bruce Almighty, and you sure don't look like Morgan Freeman, i'm not an idiot, I know "god" ain't shit but a figment of some morons imagination."
"Good lord, alright Mr. Knowitall, test me."
"Alright big guy, how old am I?"
"24, too young, if you ask me"
"Yeah yeah... that's good and all, so you've done your research... what was the name of my imaginary friend from middle school?"
"Which one? The one you would ride the bus alone to school with, or the one you'd pretend to have interco..."
"ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT, ENOUGH... Holy shit, he reall..."
"Hey, watch that holy shit business alright? You're in my house now enough nonsense"
"So what about... all the other religions, and science, and the big bang theory?"
"My kingdom is welcome to all, and trust me, when people kick the bucket, they are willing to give up whatever the hell they believe in to have an eternal afterlife, as for science, my god, those guys are some smart fellas, they got some stuff picked up I haven't even been able to understand, as for the big bang theory, it's alright, I think Leonard and Penny should have gotten together much earlier in the season, and Sheldon, man what a hoot, can't get enoug..."
"Okay... God, I get it man, you're the real deal. So now what, am I banned from heaven or something because i've been a royal douche my whole life or what? Cause let me tell you, if hell is anything like i've seen on south park, I'm sorry man, ill do whatever you want here, scrub toliets, wash your back, anything dude."
"Nah your good bro, hell has been really glorified throughout the years, its only a storage basement for every ones shit, no such thing as fire or the devil, just some more random literature people have put together over the years."
"So... now what?"
"Well, the way I see it is you've pretty much thrown up all the contents of your stomach before you died, and I noticed your girlfriend left you six months ago so I got some taco bell and a few loose blonde bimbos waitin over by the pearly gates for you, nah mean? Can I get an AMEN?"
"AMEN!"
-Kinda short, but I loved the prompt, any feedback is welcome.
Edit:Spelling
Another edit: it appears I've overlooked a major part in the beginning of the prompt and mad the death personal Instead of end of the world type. Sorry! | I gazed up at what is apparently god. He looked exactly like you'd expect. Really tall guy, long, flowing white beard.
"**Welcome my son, soon you will pass the pearly gates and into heaven**" spoke god.
"Wait... so you're real?" I asked.
"**Indeed my son.**" spoke god.
"You uhh... you sort of look like I always pictured god would if he existed. Do you... look like what everyone expects you to?" I ask.
"**No, this is my real and true form.**" said God.
"Weird... I guess I wasn't expecting old man. Well I wasn't expecting anything at all. But... I gotta ask. Why did you give no evidence that you existed. There's gotta be billions of people who pray to you, after all."
"**It is all part of my divine plan.**" spoke God.
"So... did you really create humanity? Or was it evolution?" I asked.
"**I created man six thousand years ago, starting with Adam and Eve.**" spoke god.
"Huh? But... there's so much evidence for evolution! What about fossil records?" I asked.
"**A test of faith.**" spoke god.
"Really? But there's NO evidence that you ever even existed?" I said.
"**Indeed, it was all a test of faith.**"
"Then why are you letting us into heaven?"
"**Because the sins you committed were minor enough.**" said god.
"Then what was the point of the test of faith!?" I practically yell at god, probably not the best idea.
"**It was all part of my divine plan.**" said god.
I scream in frustration.
"So all this time, aethiests had EVERY reason to believe they were right, but you just exist ANYWAYS?"
"**That is correct, my son.**" spoke god.
"OK, this is too much for me. Just let me to heaven." I say, exasperated.
"**As you wish.**" said god.
And I lived happily ever after.
EDIT: formatting | |
[WP] The world ends. As it turns out, God is real. He decides to let everybody into heaven, but not without an awkward conversation with some atheists. | "Coffee? Oh right, you were a Pepsi fan."
"Uh... I'm... confused."
"Many are. Especially among the conservative religions and denominations." He handed me a Pepsi, but the glass didn't feel cold at all.
"So uh, you know. I was raised as a Christian, but when I entered college, I ended up leaving. Not that that lasted long either."
"And?" he promted.
"I thought one could only go to heaven through Christ. I thought that was something one had to believe as they died."
"You want to know why you are here."
"As an all knowing god, I thought you would have answered that already."
"Well, being an all knowing god meant that I knew you had to say it out loud to properly understand your situation."
"And?" I prompted.
"I suppose, since I made the earth, I should try to see it strictly from their point of view. Some of you have made some valid arguments."
"Then shouldn't the only ones who have made said arguments be the ones who made it to heaven?"
"Worry not, child. My decision will stand. I will not give you the taste of heaven only to send you to hell."
I squirmed in my seat, like a child who knows that they should be punished, but could still get away with it.
"Then, uh... Why are we talking about it? You know my reasoning. I, as a human won't understand yours. What's the conversation for?"
"Again, I knew that you would have to have say it out loud to understand."
"Say what?"
He just leaned back in his seat and took a sip of his own drink.
"I get that this is heaven and forever and stuff, but do you really want to sit here and have me try to understand your methodology?"
He leaned toward.
"I don't expect you to understand. You have the capability to, but the desire is a different story. What I care about is if you understand what you had done, despite knowing that you would get sent to hell if you were wrong."
I took a sip of my Pepsi, and started thinking. After a solid 10 minutes, he smiled.
I finally had to speak, as I had reached a dead end.
"What am I missing? I know the stories, I left anyway. I had a minute before I died, I failed to repent. I shouldn't be here, yet I am. I know that I didn't follow Jesus's words, so I shouldn't have made it. By all judgements, I should be in hell. Did I do something that changed that call?"
He set his drink on the coffee table.
"Why do you think that inherent goodness isn't enough to go to heaven?"
"Pardon me?"
"I guess, if I tell you this answer, you might understand. I made humanity in my image. If I sent those with my image to hell, then my son could, theoretically, go to hell. If my son was teaching and following my word exactly, but went to hell, that would be bad."
"I fail to see how, uh, that means that I have to go to heaven. Couldn't you send me to some state of limbo or whatever?"
"Sure, I could. I thought that originally, actually. However, I decided that since it would take no extra effort to send you there, as long as you understood what has happened, you could stay to heaven." he stood up and stretched.
"This room is what limbo would be like, so I wouldn't be talking to you in heaven then sending you elsewhere. I wouldn't be getting your hopes up only to dash them, not again."
He smiled, and a motioned for me to stand up.
"Come and give me a hug. I know you aren't much of the hugging type, but one won't hurt."
As we hugged, I was filled with the feeling of being a child and making a silly but costly mistake, only to have a parent forgive me. It was strange, because all of the times I made a mistake, I was spanked or sent to my room. This forgiveness feeling was new and strange, but not unwelcomed.
We seperated and he picked up his drink.
"Are you ready?"
"Just one more drink."
"Come on" he chuckled. | I gazed up at what is apparently god. He looked exactly like you'd expect. Really tall guy, long, flowing white beard.
"**Welcome my son, soon you will pass the pearly gates and into heaven**" spoke god.
"Wait... so you're real?" I asked.
"**Indeed my son.**" spoke god.
"You uhh... you sort of look like I always pictured god would if he existed. Do you... look like what everyone expects you to?" I ask.
"**No, this is my real and true form.**" said God.
"Weird... I guess I wasn't expecting old man. Well I wasn't expecting anything at all. But... I gotta ask. Why did you give no evidence that you existed. There's gotta be billions of people who pray to you, after all."
"**It is all part of my divine plan.**" spoke God.
"So... did you really create humanity? Or was it evolution?" I asked.
"**I created man six thousand years ago, starting with Adam and Eve.**" spoke god.
"Huh? But... there's so much evidence for evolution! What about fossil records?" I asked.
"**A test of faith.**" spoke god.
"Really? But there's NO evidence that you ever even existed?" I said.
"**Indeed, it was all a test of faith.**"
"Then why are you letting us into heaven?"
"**Because the sins you committed were minor enough.**" said god.
"Then what was the point of the test of faith!?" I practically yell at god, probably not the best idea.
"**It was all part of my divine plan.**" said god.
I scream in frustration.
"So all this time, aethiests had EVERY reason to believe they were right, but you just exist ANYWAYS?"
"**That is correct, my son.**" spoke god.
"OK, this is too much for me. Just let me to heaven." I say, exasperated.
"**As you wish.**" said god.
And I lived happily ever after.
EDIT: formatting | |
[WP] The world ends. As it turns out, God is real. He decides to let everybody into heaven, but not without an awkward conversation with some atheists. | "..."
"..."
"... So."
"Uh huh."
"You're real."
"Yep"
"That's a thing."
"Indeed it is."
"And your appearance?"
"Yeah, it does that."
"Constantly shapeshift?"
"Why do you think there are so many versions of Gods out there?"
"Well is there a way you could stick to one form? It's really distracting right now."
"Sorry, no can do. I can do it when I visit Earth since the flow of time there is different but here, uh uh. Heaven rules are different than Earth rules."
"Aren't you, like, suppose to be able to do everything and anything though?"
"Ugh, this again. Look, when all those authors wrote their books and preached all my accomplishments, I didn't show them EVERYTHING. There wasn't even need to show them more than a fraction of what I can do. It was impressive stuff, yes, so they just assumed I could do everything. But, you know, when you're trying to impress others, you don't show the stuff in progress. In fact it's only been a couple centuries since I was able to pull off my first paradox. Don't think anyone noticed though which was a shame."
"So if no one noticed and you hoped others would, does that mean you don't control our fate?"
"It's more of a soft touch approach. I tried the direct approach for a few decades and it never ended well. This guy wants one thing, his neighbor wants another thing which would make the first guy's wish impossible, some stranger in the nearby village wants the same thing after hearing about it and it just becomes a total mess. Best just to let things play out on their own with minor intervention here and there. You ever play that Sims game? Like that."
"At least you don't remove the doors and windows like some people."
"Oh I did that once. Wow the look on their face. Worth it. Anyway, I still have a lot of people to introduce myself to so I can't really spend too much time with each new arrival. If you need anything, just ask one of the angels. I know they don't look like what most people expect but basically find anything with a halo and you should be fine. Now shoo shoo, time to move on."
*Ding*
"NEXT!" | I gazed up at what is apparently god. He looked exactly like you'd expect. Really tall guy, long, flowing white beard.
"**Welcome my son, soon you will pass the pearly gates and into heaven**" spoke god.
"Wait... so you're real?" I asked.
"**Indeed my son.**" spoke god.
"You uhh... you sort of look like I always pictured god would if he existed. Do you... look like what everyone expects you to?" I ask.
"**No, this is my real and true form.**" said God.
"Weird... I guess I wasn't expecting old man. Well I wasn't expecting anything at all. But... I gotta ask. Why did you give no evidence that you existed. There's gotta be billions of people who pray to you, after all."
"**It is all part of my divine plan.**" spoke God.
"So... did you really create humanity? Or was it evolution?" I asked.
"**I created man six thousand years ago, starting with Adam and Eve.**" spoke god.
"Huh? But... there's so much evidence for evolution! What about fossil records?" I asked.
"**A test of faith.**" spoke god.
"Really? But there's NO evidence that you ever even existed?" I said.
"**Indeed, it was all a test of faith.**"
"Then why are you letting us into heaven?"
"**Because the sins you committed were minor enough.**" said god.
"Then what was the point of the test of faith!?" I practically yell at god, probably not the best idea.
"**It was all part of my divine plan.**" said god.
I scream in frustration.
"So all this time, aethiests had EVERY reason to believe they were right, but you just exist ANYWAYS?"
"**That is correct, my son.**" spoke god.
"OK, this is too much for me. Just let me to heaven." I say, exasperated.
"**As you wish.**" said god.
And I lived happily ever after.
EDIT: formatting | |
[WP] The world ends. As it turns out, God is real. He decides to let everybody into heaven, but not without an awkward conversation with some atheists. | God looked like Kurt Russell. Or maybe that's just how I saw him. I expected a warm and pleasant face from the almighty, but all I got was a bored and contented expression, as if he knew how everything would happen. By all means, he did. I hadn't believed. All of it I couldn't believe. I, and the row of countless other blobs of light that were souls stood before him. The world stood still.
"... So you exist." I said tentatively.
God shrugged absently. He held such a strong empathy that it affected our emotions as well. We felt his apathy, his light sadness, every little happiness that sparked his incomprehensible soul. "Suppose I do. Surprised?" He said in Kurt Russell's voice.
"Yes." I coughed out of nervousness.
"Well. Here I am. Am I what you were expecting?" God said, holding out his arms. We all swelled with some pride the moment he did, sagging into a subtle warmth of joy.
"I didn't expect Kurt Russell." I said. It was true. "... Then again, I more expected you to be some huge ball of light."
"That's the Spirit." God said.
"Pardon?"
The words were lost on God for a moment. "Oh, right. That's a human expression." God laughed heartily. Genuine laughter. "The Holy Spirit is more what you described. My son is..."
"Talking bad about me already, Father?" The statuesque form of Jesus Christ appeared in an ethereal sunbeam. His skin was colored olive, his hair dark and clean cut to a curly top. Christ's eyes were large amber discs, almost like miniature suns. He sure as hell didn't look like the standard descriptions, outside of the beard, which was accurate to a T. Helluva thing to get right over all else being wrong.
"Bah." Kurt Russel-God said. "No. I was introducing you."
"Of course you were." Jesus said.
I had the acute sense that God was talking to every soul individually at that very moment. Their eyes weren't trained on me, but somewhere very far away, as if scanning the infinite horizon for something. They certainly had that power, I'd bargained. God saw what I did, as was expected.
"You're disappointed you're not speaking for humanity." I felt those ancient eyes upon me, gazing into my being. "You've always wanted to be special. And this was your moment." God seemed sad.
"Yes and no." I said after some time of consideration. "Yes, because... well, speaking for humanity would be pretty cool. No, because I really don't have anything left to lose. There's nothing left but whatever's behind those gates. What point is there in worry when there's nothing to worry about?"
Jesus's lips curled upward. The Father's as well, but to a lesser degree. "Well said." Jesus nodded.
The pearly gates flung open, and air rushed through and around me. Along with others, I flew into heaven.
For me, Heaven was an infinite wheat field. The sky above was purple with galaxies and nebulae, with the feeling I could reach out and touch them. I willed myself to the sky and found myself soaring past alien planets. I felt no fatigue as I watched supernovas and felt the cool air of autumn on Jupiter. Every ailment on my mind, every problem, every twinge of mortal pain disappeared into bliss.
Humanity deserved this. I deserved this. | "You are real......"
"Yes'
"But how? Explain the science, the events, the wrongness of the Bible."
"Humanity got me wrong, I think. I'm not omnipotent. I'm not omniscient. I was a god of war to the ancients. I am not nice."
I screamed as I was shoved through the pearly gates, the blackness beyond rushing up at my face as I plummeted for hours or seconds, having lost any sense of time or place or reasoning...
And I awoke. As a baby, I think, staring up at whiteness, a women holding me in a small tent, speaking a language I did not understand. They looked like nomads, traditional people sequestered in a far off land.
No. I will not grow up here. No knowledge, primitive, objectified...........
Is this heaven? Living?
I want my family.
But who were they?
I can't remember?
I can't?
Now, I start to cry. I've always been afraid of death. But this.......this isn't heaven. It's not hell. It's worse. | |
[WP] An ancient tome grants you its powers of wizardry. You're the first true wizard in millennia, so all of magic has become yours, to the point that you can't control your imagination coming to life. | It was not my intention to change the world as we know it. My absolute love of books is what got me into this mess. To date, I have more than 400 books on my kindle, and my "real" books are all in storage. I have read all of them, including the set of gold leafed encyclopedias I bought on a whim when I was 19 and had any real money for the first time.
But, that aside, my favorite places are libraries. The older the better, and I love visiting the remote ones best. My favorite genre? I bet you guessed that it's fantasy, with a bit of sci-fi thrown in. And so, it wasn't any surprise that when visiting some ailing relatives of mine one weekend that I visited the closest library. My husband's grandfather is in poor health, and while he and his wife have always been pleasant to me, I've always felt like an outsider. After nearly 8 years if marriage, one would think that I would get over my insecurities about my in-laws, but there you have it. Anyway, I decided to take some time for myself and let my husband and kids visit for awhile.
The library I went to was a small little local thing that was once a government building, but was repurposed in the last few decades. Not the type of place to find ancient tomes of unidentified origins. I was wondering the usual sections for me, and lightly running my fingers down the spines, taking out an interesting title here and there to read the inside covers, when I came across a large black book that seemed to have covers made of leather. It didn't have a title on its spine, so I pulled it out to look at the front. The title wasn't in English, but I opened it anyway.
That moment changed my life, and ours as we know it. An intense feeling washed over me when the book was opened, a sense of purpose and rightness. I looked at the cover again, but this time I could read it's title: Golden Apple Wisdom. I started flipping through the pages, and a few hand drawn pictures leapt out at me. Everything was familiar, and yet so utterly different than anything I knew. I found a chair and started reading.
I devour books, plain and simple. 800 pages or so is easy for me to read in just a few hours, especially if the author is talented. I read the time in its entirety before my husband picked me up for dinner. I asked the librarian how much the book would cost me to take home for my personal collection, and was told this particular book was not in their system. He said that someone must have left it there, but I was free to take it home. I did.
It wasn't until we were on our way home after the weekend was over that I noticed the difference. My daughter, bless her heart, loves books almost as much as I do, and begged me to put my audio book on while we drove. As she was explaining again how she would grow up and be the first to figure out how to get to other plants in our galaxy (she just turned 7) so she could have a "fire lizard" too, I imagined what one would look like sitting on her shoulder. (Anne McCaffrey and her Dragonriders of Pern series is what I am referencing for those who are interested)
Imagine my surprise when a soft chirp met my ears, right before the screams of both my children. I turn around in the car as my husband quickly tries to pull over to the shoulder so we don't cause an accident. In the moment I turned around, I saw a creature before it disappeared. I couldn't believe my eyes, but I knew what it was even though I had only a glimpse of the soft golden hide. After everyone had calmed down, and I explained what I had seen to my husband, we had another shock. The creature came back. She came out of nowhere and landed on my lap, chirping and chattering at me as if it was my fault she had dissapered. We stayed on that shoulder for a long time, getting over the shock. I named her Ramoth.
From there, it wasn't hard to guess what happened. Anytime I started thinking about my favorite books, the creatures and characters leapt from the pages. I've always had a vivid imagination, and it proved to be near disastoerous. So many new being popping up all over the world, things thought to be myth or fairy tails, were starting to become commonplace. I'm sure everyone saw the news alerts. It was only when the furies starting punishing the wicked that crime rates started to plummet. When people starting realizing what was happening, all I could do was laugh and continue to create.
I didn't start out trying to change the world, but power is insatiable, and I hated being poor. Now, I have what I've always dreamed of, and if people fear me a little, or have started to come to me for all their decisions, whom am I to judge? War? When every weapon known to man instantly dissolves into thin air, or evil men find themselves lost to my creations, who am I stop it. The world is at peace. Hunger is no longer a threat. Crumbling structures are now pristine, crime is almost nonexistent. Why would I want to change the world back to what it was? | As I look at my skull and ponder my decisions i wonder if reading all those Jim butcher book was a good idea. I am now in the possession of an all powerful all be it horny small knowledge fairy who never forget a word and loves reading romance novels. The problem with having all the magic that hasn't been dispersed in over a millennia is that it appears to be able to read your mind.
To just give you gist of what i have gone through in the past 24 hours my house has blown up 2 times only to reappear like nothing happened ten minutes later. Three incredibly attractive women that I believe where elves have stopped by that have wanted to entertain me (I turned them down not a perv). To top it off I had to fight off a demon which is how I realized that for the magic to not drive me insane I have to use it otherwise it uses me.
All this i have told the Skull named Bob (again to many Dresden books) but thank god he actually is helping me poor some of my magic into the lay lines that are in the earth. | |
[WP] An ancient tome grants you its powers of wizardry. You're the first true wizard in millennia, so all of magic has become yours, to the point that you can't control your imagination coming to life. | Some 7 months ago, I stumbled across a Facebook event page that showed up in my news feed. ''Book Drop''. The point was to take one of your own books, leave it somewhere in the city and post a cryptic message on it's whereabouts on the Facebook page. I scrolled through the page, seeing books I'd love to read but unable to figure out the location. One in particular caught my eye: it was almost more of a serious collector's item than a book. The pages were gold-rimmed, but not in the way cheap children's diaries are. This almost seemed like real gold. The cover was a deep, mystic red, engraved with what seemed like original penmanship. The title read, ''Witchcraft and Wizardry''. Nothing more, nothing less. The message along with the photo read, *''To find your true desires, wander eastward past the black shires''*.
Craving the book but never being much of a puzzler, I just set out to hide a book of my own. I'd had a terribly rough night but was excited to participate. Due to lack of sleep, the most clever thing I could muster up was hiding my copy of *Animal Farm* in the local petting zoo. But I never did actually drop off the book. Seeing the three majestic, black horses with manes on their legs, reminded me that a 'shire' isn't just the domestic of a hobbit.
Picking up the book, my body covered itself in very slight, very pleasant, pins and needles. The book had sent a gentle chill through my veins and my skin had insufficient time to catch up to the sudden change of temperature. My lungs felt suddenly larger. My heart felt warmer, pulsed harder. I got so caught up in the ecstasy that I very nearly lost control of my bladder. And there's nothing quite like nearly pissing yourself to show you're dealing with a real deal.
Walking back home with the tome in my backpack, my insomnia caught up with me. I'm quick to hallucinate mildly when exhausted and am very familiar with the first signs. Tiny, black shadows scuttling speedily from the corners of my eyes. Nothing new, but it always catches my attention. At that point, for the first time in my life, an all too familiar hallucination manifested itself in reality. I looked to my right, and saw a monstrously huge rat scurrying into the bushes.
Taken aback by what I'd seen, I speedwalked my vulnerable ass back home. I slept for a disturbed 4 hours, despite it being noon.
It really didn't take me long to realize that my imagination had the upper hand in my acquired skills. I have this thing where I forget that my bottle opener is silver-plated. It catches the gleam of the sun if I open my kitchen drawer around noon. And every time, without fail, I'll inspect the mysterious shiny object in my kitchen drawer. Only to realize once more that it's just my bottle opener. Until one day, it turned out to be a ring I didn't own.
So I started having fun with it. I'd imagine a forgotten cheese crust pizza in my fridge. Or perhaps a lost $50 hidden between my couch cushions. With some shame, I admit that I've even welcomed my ex-girlfriend to my bed.
But there was a downside to all this. I've always been insecure, and these ideas started to manifest just the same. It started slowly but I got wise quickly. My friends took longer to reply on social media. Co-workers hurried to wrap up smalltalk. Attempts at flirting were shut down harshly. People pointed and laughed in the gym.
So, the only reasonable course of action, was to imagine myself better. I took up on better habits if only for the effect of a placebo. I used clay masks for my face, ate better, started flossing, forgave my friends for their busy schedules and excused my coworkers for wanting to get back to work. I visited the gym more frequently despite the pitchforkers. And when I came out of the changing room, I told myself that even if they wére laughing at me, it wouldn't stop me from achieving my goals.
And all my efforts... worked. While I'd set out for this to happen, I was still stupefied. People at the gym smiled at me. My friends were willing to set dates to hang out. A very pleasant girl accepted my phone number *and even texted me*. I'd imagined myself as a pleasant person. By the powers vested in me, I had become one.
When I found the tome, I thought I'd just be able to turn people into frogs and what not. But it turned out to be so much more complex. I went back to the tome to read through the parts I'd skipped. I was sitting on my couch, thumbing through the book when my doorbell rang. Wanting to put the book down but having the hand-eye coordination of a carrot, I nearly dropped it, but caught it just in time by the back of the hardcover. I slung it on the table and told my inquiring neighbor that no, I had not seen her cat. Going back to the couch, something on the last page of the book caught my eye more than anything in it ever before.
***Made in China***. | As I look at my skull and ponder my decisions i wonder if reading all those Jim butcher book was a good idea. I am now in the possession of an all powerful all be it horny small knowledge fairy who never forget a word and loves reading romance novels. The problem with having all the magic that hasn't been dispersed in over a millennia is that it appears to be able to read your mind.
To just give you gist of what i have gone through in the past 24 hours my house has blown up 2 times only to reappear like nothing happened ten minutes later. Three incredibly attractive women that I believe where elves have stopped by that have wanted to entertain me (I turned them down not a perv). To top it off I had to fight off a demon which is how I realized that for the magic to not drive me insane I have to use it otherwise it uses me.
All this i have told the Skull named Bob (again to many Dresden books) but thank god he actually is helping me poor some of my magic into the lay lines that are in the earth. | |
Edit: for everyone saying "taxes on the winnings and medical bills for the coma"....I'm Canadian. I never thought of such atrocities. | [WP] You finally won the lottery. $20 million. You go to sleep that night a rich and happy person. You wake up to a nurse, explaining you've just awoken from a coma. | Fortunately the coma was only a few hours long.
"You had a little fall sweetie, but everything's going to be okay."
The doctor walks in after being called by the nurse.
"Everything seems fine man I'm happy for you to go home"
I return home to enjoy 20 million dollars. | I ask her what day is today. Based on her answer I know its been almost 4 months since the lottery.
I ask her where I am. I don't recognize the location.
I ask her what city are we in, same as where I won lottery.
Her turn to ask soms questions.
I am who they think I am, which must means I'm who I think I am.
They dont know what happened to me, and want to keep me here to try and find out.
I use my phone to check my bank balance. My winnings have been deposited into my account.
After a few weeks they determined I can leave, but the doctors seem frustrated that they don't know what casued my coma.
As far as my memory gose everything lines up, and I have yet to find a contradiction between my understanding and others expectations.
As I walk out of the hospital I see a man get hit by a car. |
Edit: for everyone saying "taxes on the winnings and medical bills for the coma"....I'm Canadian. I never thought of such atrocities. | [WP] You finally won the lottery. $20 million. You go to sleep that night a rich and happy person. You wake up to a nurse, explaining you've just awoken from a coma. | My eyes opened as fast as they had closed. *This is not my room* I thought to myself.
"Hello sir you've just awoken from a 4 year coma since the year 1928." Said a nurse, standing at my bedside.
"Oh wow I can't wait to use my 20 million that I invested in the stock market!" | I ask her what day is today. Based on her answer I know its been almost 4 months since the lottery.
I ask her where I am. I don't recognize the location.
I ask her what city are we in, same as where I won lottery.
Her turn to ask soms questions.
I am who they think I am, which must means I'm who I think I am.
They dont know what happened to me, and want to keep me here to try and find out.
I use my phone to check my bank balance. My winnings have been deposited into my account.
After a few weeks they determined I can leave, but the doctors seem frustrated that they don't know what casued my coma.
As far as my memory gose everything lines up, and I have yet to find a contradiction between my understanding and others expectations.
As I walk out of the hospital I see a man get hit by a car. |
Edit: for everyone saying "taxes on the winnings and medical bills for the coma"....I'm Canadian. I never thought of such atrocities. | [WP] You finally won the lottery. $20 million. You go to sleep that night a rich and happy person. You wake up to a nurse, explaining you've just awoken from a coma. | I was always kind of an asshole. I stole, I cheated, I bullied kids, I was mean to my brother, I was just sort of a dick in general. It wasn't always my fault, shitty things happened to me, so I did shitty things to other people. I was unemployed, broke, and living in a trailer park.
At least until I won the lottery.
On a whim I decided to buy a lottery ticket. It was a desperate move admittedly. My ex wife needed her child support and I wanted to buy booze. I didn't really expect to win, so imagine my surprise when my numbers were drawn on the evening news.
20 million dollars. I won 20 million fucking dollars.
I almost had a heart attack when I found out. Unfortunately, my car was in the shop so I was going to have to wait until the next day to collect my (or, my ex-wife's) money. I went to sleep that night with dreams of a worry free life.
I woke up to the sound of medical equipment and late night TV. I was in a hospital room. I wasn't sure how I got here, but yet here I was. I couldnt move, my mucles were sore, it felt like they atrophied. It wasnt the first time I woke up in the hospital with no memory of how I got there, so I wasn't too worried. Nobody was around, so I was watching TV. Some celebrity was talking about karma with a late night host.
I started considering becoming a better person when the nurse walked in. "Oh, you're up!" She looked surprised. I laughed. "How drunk was I this time when I stumbled in?" Her face changed as she picked up my chart; she looked sadder, more worried. "Well sir, you've been in a coma for a month." She gulped "We weren't sure if you would make it." I gasped, shocked "what? A coma? Really?" She nodded, a genuine look of sympathy in her eyes. I sat up, but just a little too fast. A pain shot through my stomach so I laid back down. "How did I get in a coma? Last I remember I won the lottery and went to sleep!". She nodded again. "Well, you sleepwalked out into the road with your lottery ticket and got hit by a car. To make things worse, your ticket blew away and we can't find it".
I couldn't believe it. Finally, something good happened in my life and I end up in a coma? That celebrity was right, karma must be real. What goes around comes around. My shitty past came back to bite me in the ass. I was lost in thought, pondering karma when the nurse got my attention. "Sir. Sir? Sir!" I turned and looked at her still in shock "Yes?" "Before I bring the doctor in, I need to make sure you still have some memory. Do you remember your name?"
I did. I do remember my name. I sighed.
"My name is Earl." | I ask her what day is today. Based on her answer I know its been almost 4 months since the lottery.
I ask her where I am. I don't recognize the location.
I ask her what city are we in, same as where I won lottery.
Her turn to ask soms questions.
I am who they think I am, which must means I'm who I think I am.
They dont know what happened to me, and want to keep me here to try and find out.
I use my phone to check my bank balance. My winnings have been deposited into my account.
After a few weeks they determined I can leave, but the doctors seem frustrated that they don't know what casued my coma.
As far as my memory gose everything lines up, and I have yet to find a contradiction between my understanding and others expectations.
As I walk out of the hospital I see a man get hit by a car. |
Edit: for everyone saying "taxes on the winnings and medical bills for the coma"....I'm Canadian. I never thought of such atrocities. | [WP] You finally won the lottery. $20 million. You go to sleep that night a rich and happy person. You wake up to a nurse, explaining you've just awoken from a coma. | My eyes opened as fast as they had closed. *This is not my room* I thought to myself.
"Hello sir you've just awoken from a 4 year coma since the year 1928." Said a nurse, standing at my bedside.
"Oh wow I can't wait to use my 20 million that I invested in the stock market!" | When playing the lottery
It's important to play the right numbers
Never play the cursed ones
Take it from me
I played the lottery
I won the lottery
$20 million
Numbers are a funny thing
4 8 15 16 23 42
Some people say
what do you mean
You won $20 million!
Yeah and on my ride home
A wall of smoke popped up
My taxi-driver decided the smoke was impenetrable
He "dogged" it
Hello coma
How long did I sleep
And how much money was wasted on keeping me alive
$15 million left
I accidentally put someone else in a coma
$10 million left
I moved away
To a lone island
Earthquake
Tsunami
$5 million left
I'm not that young anymore
I'm entering my 80s
I've always liked a simple life
Why can't I live one?
I've helped people ever since I could
Yet I've lost my legs
My teeth have fallen out
My back aches
I've had countless painful necessary surgeries
And yet I'm literally falling to my death
Somehow this plane is crashing
So I'm recording this message
Don't try to keep me alive
All my money left should be donated to a research for a cure
I give up
The question is will you give up
When life hits you hardest
Or will you try
And try again
Even if it means your death? |
Edit: for everyone saying "taxes on the winnings and medical bills for the coma"....I'm Canadian. I never thought of such atrocities. | [WP] You finally won the lottery. $20 million. You go to sleep that night a rich and happy person. You wake up to a nurse, explaining you've just awoken from a coma. | I was always kind of an asshole. I stole, I cheated, I bullied kids, I was mean to my brother, I was just sort of a dick in general. It wasn't always my fault, shitty things happened to me, so I did shitty things to other people. I was unemployed, broke, and living in a trailer park.
At least until I won the lottery.
On a whim I decided to buy a lottery ticket. It was a desperate move admittedly. My ex wife needed her child support and I wanted to buy booze. I didn't really expect to win, so imagine my surprise when my numbers were drawn on the evening news.
20 million dollars. I won 20 million fucking dollars.
I almost had a heart attack when I found out. Unfortunately, my car was in the shop so I was going to have to wait until the next day to collect my (or, my ex-wife's) money. I went to sleep that night with dreams of a worry free life.
I woke up to the sound of medical equipment and late night TV. I was in a hospital room. I wasn't sure how I got here, but yet here I was. I couldnt move, my mucles were sore, it felt like they atrophied. It wasnt the first time I woke up in the hospital with no memory of how I got there, so I wasn't too worried. Nobody was around, so I was watching TV. Some celebrity was talking about karma with a late night host.
I started considering becoming a better person when the nurse walked in. "Oh, you're up!" She looked surprised. I laughed. "How drunk was I this time when I stumbled in?" Her face changed as she picked up my chart; she looked sadder, more worried. "Well sir, you've been in a coma for a month." She gulped "We weren't sure if you would make it." I gasped, shocked "what? A coma? Really?" She nodded, a genuine look of sympathy in her eyes. I sat up, but just a little too fast. A pain shot through my stomach so I laid back down. "How did I get in a coma? Last I remember I won the lottery and went to sleep!". She nodded again. "Well, you sleepwalked out into the road with your lottery ticket and got hit by a car. To make things worse, your ticket blew away and we can't find it".
I couldn't believe it. Finally, something good happened in my life and I end up in a coma? That celebrity was right, karma must be real. What goes around comes around. My shitty past came back to bite me in the ass. I was lost in thought, pondering karma when the nurse got my attention. "Sir. Sir? Sir!" I turned and looked at her still in shock "Yes?" "Before I bring the doctor in, I need to make sure you still have some memory. Do you remember your name?"
I did. I do remember my name. I sighed.
"My name is Earl." | When playing the lottery
It's important to play the right numbers
Never play the cursed ones
Take it from me
I played the lottery
I won the lottery
$20 million
Numbers are a funny thing
4 8 15 16 23 42
Some people say
what do you mean
You won $20 million!
Yeah and on my ride home
A wall of smoke popped up
My taxi-driver decided the smoke was impenetrable
He "dogged" it
Hello coma
How long did I sleep
And how much money was wasted on keeping me alive
$15 million left
I accidentally put someone else in a coma
$10 million left
I moved away
To a lone island
Earthquake
Tsunami
$5 million left
I'm not that young anymore
I'm entering my 80s
I've always liked a simple life
Why can't I live one?
I've helped people ever since I could
Yet I've lost my legs
My teeth have fallen out
My back aches
I've had countless painful necessary surgeries
And yet I'm literally falling to my death
Somehow this plane is crashing
So I'm recording this message
Don't try to keep me alive
All my money left should be donated to a research for a cure
I give up
The question is will you give up
When life hits you hardest
Or will you try
And try again
Even if it means your death? |
Edit: for everyone saying "taxes on the winnings and medical bills for the coma"....I'm Canadian. I never thought of such atrocities. | [WP] You finally won the lottery. $20 million. You go to sleep that night a rich and happy person. You wake up to a nurse, explaining you've just awoken from a coma. | My eyes opened as fast as they had closed. *This is not my room* I thought to myself.
"Hello sir you've just awoken from a 4 year coma since the year 1928." Said a nurse, standing at my bedside.
"Oh wow I can't wait to use my 20 million that I invested in the stock market!" | I slowly open my eyes, waking up to the beeping of my alarm and start to realize something is wrong. The first thing I register as wrong is I'm laying on my back, I never wake up on my back. Something feels off about my bed, my alarm is still beeping so I go to turn it off and I realize that I feel weak and anyways when did my alarm start beeping instead of play music?
I start as I feel something brush against my hand, "Oh, I'm sorry sir I didn't realize you where awake." I hear a soft voice say.
"Where... where am I and what's going on?" I ask, my voice feels heavy like I haven't used it in a while.
"You are at Good Sam sir, you where in a car crash almost three years ago and been in a coma since then." She explains to me.
I remember that crash but I don't remember it being that bad and from what feels like memories to me but that also feel like four years to me. I look at the nurse, "Can you tell me today's date please?"
"It is June sixth 2017 sir." A whole year before I "won" the lottery. "Now if you will excuse me I think the doctor would like to talk to you." She says to me.
"Yes, thank you." I say to her as she walks out of the room. I sit there trying to process all these memories I have that must be dreams, especially the ones of the following year while waiting for the doctor. After what feels like almost an hour I hear the click of the door as the nurse comes back in with a man in the typical doctor's get up. He asks me questions that I can only assume are normal questions to ask someone who's woken up from a coma, what's my name, when was I born, while the nurse checks my vitals. Once they are done they start to leave and I ask if I may have a lap top to look up a few things.
Over the next month I do my best to look up events that I remember and find that I remember them almost exactly as reported. At first I think maybe this coma dream was influenced by news reports, but as I get closer to today's date I start to realize that I remember things they didn't release until later and none of those feel like after thoughts to me.
I sit in my room watching a live stream of a four car pileup and realize I was there, I was almost fired from my job because I wasn't able to come in today. I feel tears start to roll down my face as I realize that the driver of the blue Ford that's trapped inside and the officer that's trying to help her out are about to die from the car exploding, they didn't know anything was wrong with it, when Sam, the nurse that has been taking care of me the past month, comes in. "Mr. Smith are you okay?"
I nod closing my laptop and wiping the tears from my eyes, "Yes thank you Sam." I say smiling up at her.
"Well Mr. Smith, you have made an exceptional recovery and you are free to leave and resume your normal life whenever you are ready." She says her eyes lighting up as she smiles at me.
"Thank you, let me just pack up my few things and I'll be out of your guys's hair." I say while standing up. She smiles at me before walking out of my room.
As I pack my things and sign out of the hospital it starts to dawn on me, my memories are real and I must do something with them.
Over the time of my memories that I have left I start going to as many of these events that I remember as I can. I start saving people as I can, making sure people give the right speeches, and otherwise help out my community as I can and start to become a local "hero" from my actions.
It is June Fourth, 2018 and I am about to go into my favorite convenience store and buy my first ever lottery ticket using the same numbers I used in my dream. My time is almost up, very soon I won't remember anything, I'm not sure I'm ready for the unknown. |
Edit: for everyone saying "taxes on the winnings and medical bills for the coma"....I'm Canadian. I never thought of such atrocities. | [WP] You finally won the lottery. $20 million. You go to sleep that night a rich and happy person. You wake up to a nurse, explaining you've just awoken from a coma. | I was always kind of an asshole. I stole, I cheated, I bullied kids, I was mean to my brother, I was just sort of a dick in general. It wasn't always my fault, shitty things happened to me, so I did shitty things to other people. I was unemployed, broke, and living in a trailer park.
At least until I won the lottery.
On a whim I decided to buy a lottery ticket. It was a desperate move admittedly. My ex wife needed her child support and I wanted to buy booze. I didn't really expect to win, so imagine my surprise when my numbers were drawn on the evening news.
20 million dollars. I won 20 million fucking dollars.
I almost had a heart attack when I found out. Unfortunately, my car was in the shop so I was going to have to wait until the next day to collect my (or, my ex-wife's) money. I went to sleep that night with dreams of a worry free life.
I woke up to the sound of medical equipment and late night TV. I was in a hospital room. I wasn't sure how I got here, but yet here I was. I couldnt move, my mucles were sore, it felt like they atrophied. It wasnt the first time I woke up in the hospital with no memory of how I got there, so I wasn't too worried. Nobody was around, so I was watching TV. Some celebrity was talking about karma with a late night host.
I started considering becoming a better person when the nurse walked in. "Oh, you're up!" She looked surprised. I laughed. "How drunk was I this time when I stumbled in?" Her face changed as she picked up my chart; she looked sadder, more worried. "Well sir, you've been in a coma for a month." She gulped "We weren't sure if you would make it." I gasped, shocked "what? A coma? Really?" She nodded, a genuine look of sympathy in her eyes. I sat up, but just a little too fast. A pain shot through my stomach so I laid back down. "How did I get in a coma? Last I remember I won the lottery and went to sleep!". She nodded again. "Well, you sleepwalked out into the road with your lottery ticket and got hit by a car. To make things worse, your ticket blew away and we can't find it".
I couldn't believe it. Finally, something good happened in my life and I end up in a coma? That celebrity was right, karma must be real. What goes around comes around. My shitty past came back to bite me in the ass. I was lost in thought, pondering karma when the nurse got my attention. "Sir. Sir? Sir!" I turned and looked at her still in shock "Yes?" "Before I bring the doctor in, I need to make sure you still have some memory. Do you remember your name?"
I did. I do remember my name. I sighed.
"My name is Earl." | I slowly open my eyes, waking up to the beeping of my alarm and start to realize something is wrong. The first thing I register as wrong is I'm laying on my back, I never wake up on my back. Something feels off about my bed, my alarm is still beeping so I go to turn it off and I realize that I feel weak and anyways when did my alarm start beeping instead of play music?
I start as I feel something brush against my hand, "Oh, I'm sorry sir I didn't realize you where awake." I hear a soft voice say.
"Where... where am I and what's going on?" I ask, my voice feels heavy like I haven't used it in a while.
"You are at Good Sam sir, you where in a car crash almost three years ago and been in a coma since then." She explains to me.
I remember that crash but I don't remember it being that bad and from what feels like memories to me but that also feel like four years to me. I look at the nurse, "Can you tell me today's date please?"
"It is June sixth 2017 sir." A whole year before I "won" the lottery. "Now if you will excuse me I think the doctor would like to talk to you." She says to me.
"Yes, thank you." I say to her as she walks out of the room. I sit there trying to process all these memories I have that must be dreams, especially the ones of the following year while waiting for the doctor. After what feels like almost an hour I hear the click of the door as the nurse comes back in with a man in the typical doctor's get up. He asks me questions that I can only assume are normal questions to ask someone who's woken up from a coma, what's my name, when was I born, while the nurse checks my vitals. Once they are done they start to leave and I ask if I may have a lap top to look up a few things.
Over the next month I do my best to look up events that I remember and find that I remember them almost exactly as reported. At first I think maybe this coma dream was influenced by news reports, but as I get closer to today's date I start to realize that I remember things they didn't release until later and none of those feel like after thoughts to me.
I sit in my room watching a live stream of a four car pileup and realize I was there, I was almost fired from my job because I wasn't able to come in today. I feel tears start to roll down my face as I realize that the driver of the blue Ford that's trapped inside and the officer that's trying to help her out are about to die from the car exploding, they didn't know anything was wrong with it, when Sam, the nurse that has been taking care of me the past month, comes in. "Mr. Smith are you okay?"
I nod closing my laptop and wiping the tears from my eyes, "Yes thank you Sam." I say smiling up at her.
"Well Mr. Smith, you have made an exceptional recovery and you are free to leave and resume your normal life whenever you are ready." She says her eyes lighting up as she smiles at me.
"Thank you, let me just pack up my few things and I'll be out of your guys's hair." I say while standing up. She smiles at me before walking out of my room.
As I pack my things and sign out of the hospital it starts to dawn on me, my memories are real and I must do something with them.
Over the time of my memories that I have left I start going to as many of these events that I remember as I can. I start saving people as I can, making sure people give the right speeches, and otherwise help out my community as I can and start to become a local "hero" from my actions.
It is June Fourth, 2018 and I am about to go into my favorite convenience store and buy my first ever lottery ticket using the same numbers I used in my dream. My time is almost up, very soon I won't remember anything, I'm not sure I'm ready for the unknown. |
Edit: for everyone saying "taxes on the winnings and medical bills for the coma"....I'm Canadian. I never thought of such atrocities. | [WP] You finally won the lottery. $20 million. You go to sleep that night a rich and happy person. You wake up to a nurse, explaining you've just awoken from a coma. | My eyes opened as fast as they had closed. *This is not my room* I thought to myself.
"Hello sir you've just awoken from a 4 year coma since the year 1928." Said a nurse, standing at my bedside.
"Oh wow I can't wait to use my 20 million that I invested in the stock market!" | "What happened?" I stammered, still adjusting to the bright lights
The nurse took a sharp breath and paused. "You were robbed," she said in a near whisper.
Our eyes locked. Millions gone. I'm back at square one.
"Crap, " I said.
*fin* |
Edit: for everyone saying "taxes on the winnings and medical bills for the coma"....I'm Canadian. I never thought of such atrocities. | [WP] You finally won the lottery. $20 million. You go to sleep that night a rich and happy person. You wake up to a nurse, explaining you've just awoken from a coma. | My eyes opened as fast as they had closed. *This is not my room* I thought to myself.
"Hello sir you've just awoken from a 4 year coma since the year 1928." Said a nurse, standing at my bedside.
"Oh wow I can't wait to use my 20 million that I invested in the stock market!" | Fortunately the coma was only a few hours long.
"You had a little fall sweetie, but everything's going to be okay."
The doctor walks in after being called by the nurse.
"Everything seems fine man I'm happy for you to go home"
I return home to enjoy 20 million dollars. |
Edit: for everyone saying "taxes on the winnings and medical bills for the coma"....I'm Canadian. I never thought of such atrocities. | [WP] You finally won the lottery. $20 million. You go to sleep that night a rich and happy person. You wake up to a nurse, explaining you've just awoken from a coma. | I was always kind of an asshole. I stole, I cheated, I bullied kids, I was mean to my brother, I was just sort of a dick in general. It wasn't always my fault, shitty things happened to me, so I did shitty things to other people. I was unemployed, broke, and living in a trailer park.
At least until I won the lottery.
On a whim I decided to buy a lottery ticket. It was a desperate move admittedly. My ex wife needed her child support and I wanted to buy booze. I didn't really expect to win, so imagine my surprise when my numbers were drawn on the evening news.
20 million dollars. I won 20 million fucking dollars.
I almost had a heart attack when I found out. Unfortunately, my car was in the shop so I was going to have to wait until the next day to collect my (or, my ex-wife's) money. I went to sleep that night with dreams of a worry free life.
I woke up to the sound of medical equipment and late night TV. I was in a hospital room. I wasn't sure how I got here, but yet here I was. I couldnt move, my mucles were sore, it felt like they atrophied. It wasnt the first time I woke up in the hospital with no memory of how I got there, so I wasn't too worried. Nobody was around, so I was watching TV. Some celebrity was talking about karma with a late night host.
I started considering becoming a better person when the nurse walked in. "Oh, you're up!" She looked surprised. I laughed. "How drunk was I this time when I stumbled in?" Her face changed as she picked up my chart; she looked sadder, more worried. "Well sir, you've been in a coma for a month." She gulped "We weren't sure if you would make it." I gasped, shocked "what? A coma? Really?" She nodded, a genuine look of sympathy in her eyes. I sat up, but just a little too fast. A pain shot through my stomach so I laid back down. "How did I get in a coma? Last I remember I won the lottery and went to sleep!". She nodded again. "Well, you sleepwalked out into the road with your lottery ticket and got hit by a car. To make things worse, your ticket blew away and we can't find it".
I couldn't believe it. Finally, something good happened in my life and I end up in a coma? That celebrity was right, karma must be real. What goes around comes around. My shitty past came back to bite me in the ass. I was lost in thought, pondering karma when the nurse got my attention. "Sir. Sir? Sir!" I turned and looked at her still in shock "Yes?" "Before I bring the doctor in, I need to make sure you still have some memory. Do you remember your name?"
I did. I do remember my name. I sighed.
"My name is Earl." | Fortunately the coma was only a few hours long.
"You had a little fall sweetie, but everything's going to be okay."
The doctor walks in after being called by the nurse.
"Everything seems fine man I'm happy for you to go home"
I return home to enjoy 20 million dollars. |
Edit: for everyone saying "taxes on the winnings and medical bills for the coma"....I'm Canadian. I never thought of such atrocities. | [WP] You finally won the lottery. $20 million. You go to sleep that night a rich and happy person. You wake up to a nurse, explaining you've just awoken from a coma. | My eyes opened as fast as they had closed. *This is not my room* I thought to myself.
"Hello sir you've just awoken from a 4 year coma since the year 1928." Said a nurse, standing at my bedside.
"Oh wow I can't wait to use my 20 million that I invested in the stock market!" | The light, it /hurt/ so damned much. My mouth was dry as well. I tried to move my lips, however, the pain I instantly felt told me they were cracked and it was a terrible idea to move them much further. Slowly I started a mental checklist of my extremities to judge what was working. I was aware of someone else next to me saying something softly but I couldn't make them out. First I moved my toes, I felt a response it wasn't as much as I was commanding them, but, a response none the less. As I worked my way up my body the overall response was underwhelming. That voice next to me was getting bothersome I knew it but didn't know it at the same time. It hung at the back of my brain pestering me I felt I should know it but couldn't place it.
Suddenly something opened my right eye and at once a white hot light was shining in it. I tried to will my eye shut and my hand over it. Though my body rebelled against my command. The eye was closed again and merciful darkness enveloped me. More voices one low the other higher. Whispers to faint to hear. I struggled to hear them, what was going on. This shouldn't be that hard. I felt sleep pulling me back, something was telling me to fight it but, it was so powerful. Maybe after a few seconds then I'll try and figure this problem out.
It felt like the light got brighter. I was aware some time had passed, regretfully more than a few seconds. The light was a softer color, more of an orange color. It felt like evening time. I don't know how I knew I just felt like the day was almost over. Again a quick stock of my body and again very meager responses. This worried me, as I tried to think through the haze of my brain. Where was I? Why was it so hard to move? And most importantly what the hell was happening?
These questions burned my mind as I heard a voice still hard to put the words together, harder still to place the voice. 'I should know this voice,' I said to myself inwardly. More importantly, I FELT I should know this voice. It pulled at something deep within me. I felt a gentle touch on my wrist as if a hand was resting on it. Then I felt a body close to my head almost touching and could now clearly hear a male voice whisper in my ear, "I'm so sorry you didn't get to see her before you woke up brother, but you gotta wake up now man."
The voice cracked slightly and a faint sniff echoed in my ear as he resumed talking, "I'm begging you man, please pull out of it. We can see the scans. We can see you responding to us Brother. Please, you gotta wake up. I haven't asked much from you, but I gotta see you wake up."
This was absurd I KNEW this voice why couldn't I place it? I tried to open my eyes but my body just wouldn't respond. With more effort, I pushed my eyes to open, yet still, they refused. Now I've had it. Almost pissed I drew on my deepest reserves and mentally screamed at myself to open my damned eyes. This was some joke, some sick joke or a dream I needed out of. With every ounce of will I had I tried to push my eyes open and my lids felt like lead sheets. But I felt movement. A slight crack in my vision. The man next to me gasped, "shit" quietly and I felt him move away with a faint flurry of noise. I wasn't deterred I willed my eyes open and they responded so sluggishly. The color was dull and the vision was hazy beyond belief but They were open! FINALLY!
I saw a dark figure by a large dark rectangle. The voice was coming from there. It sounded, excited, hurried and manic? I tried to call out to whoever he was but nothing escaped my lips. It was so hard to keep my eyes open. The figure turned and a pale fuzzy circle appeared where I thought the face would be. It rushed over suddenly getting HUGE in my vision. I tried to not blink I knew my eyelids wouldn't lift a second time. The face became a chin as I felt lips press to my forehead. Then eyes appeared as he looked at me. Instantly I knew those eyes. The name escaped me but I knew my brother when I saw his eyes. They were old though. Much older eyes then I remembered. My eyes had such a hard time staying open I felt sleep running towards me and knew I couldn't help it.
"I can't believe it worked, oh man have I got so much to tell you, Bro!" His eyes and face showed sorrow. His voice could barely contain the excitement. I saw him move up and felt another kiss on my forehead.
My eyes wouldn't stay open no matter how much I forced it, the anger sapped so much from me. I had to close my eyes again. Everything faded away again. Until I was back in the black again.
This time I knew time had passed, yet not as much as last time. The color behind my eyes was more of a brighter white. It felt of noon on a warm summer day. I felt a genital breeze wash over me. The smell was amazing. It smelled of sea and salt and fresh bread. I could almost smell the Blue of the ocean I could hear the green of the trees outside, and I could feel the bright colors of the beach goers. I found it so much easier to open my eyes this time and they didn't hurt so much either. I quickly took stock of my body and felt more sluggishness but it was expected this time. I looked around through heavy eyelids and saw a small white room. An older man, from the way he held his body, looked to be late 60's early 70's sitting on a chair across from me. The light and shadow from the curtains played gently on his still form. The rest of the room looked like a future hospital room. Holograms on the walls, an image hovering in the corner of the ceiling looking like a TV. Then the doorway that lead out into the rest of the world.
Someone came in from the doorway quietly covered in white with blue underneath something hung around his neck and he carried a see through clipboard with what appeared to be every color floating on it. He looked from the 'screen-board' looked at me and stopped. The shock was evident on his face. Slowly he approached me.
"Sir, jou are awake?" His voice was thickly accented in Spanish. "Welcome back. I'm a doctor and I'm taking care of jou. Jou've arrived unconscious with a head trauma nearly 40 years ago and jou need to be patient and rest so we can put you back in shape."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Part 2 inbound |
Edit: for everyone saying "taxes on the winnings and medical bills for the coma"....I'm Canadian. I never thought of such atrocities. | [WP] You finally won the lottery. $20 million. You go to sleep that night a rich and happy person. You wake up to a nurse, explaining you've just awoken from a coma. | I was always kind of an asshole. I stole, I cheated, I bullied kids, I was mean to my brother, I was just sort of a dick in general. It wasn't always my fault, shitty things happened to me, so I did shitty things to other people. I was unemployed, broke, and living in a trailer park.
At least until I won the lottery.
On a whim I decided to buy a lottery ticket. It was a desperate move admittedly. My ex wife needed her child support and I wanted to buy booze. I didn't really expect to win, so imagine my surprise when my numbers were drawn on the evening news.
20 million dollars. I won 20 million fucking dollars.
I almost had a heart attack when I found out. Unfortunately, my car was in the shop so I was going to have to wait until the next day to collect my (or, my ex-wife's) money. I went to sleep that night with dreams of a worry free life.
I woke up to the sound of medical equipment and late night TV. I was in a hospital room. I wasn't sure how I got here, but yet here I was. I couldnt move, my mucles were sore, it felt like they atrophied. It wasnt the first time I woke up in the hospital with no memory of how I got there, so I wasn't too worried. Nobody was around, so I was watching TV. Some celebrity was talking about karma with a late night host.
I started considering becoming a better person when the nurse walked in. "Oh, you're up!" She looked surprised. I laughed. "How drunk was I this time when I stumbled in?" Her face changed as she picked up my chart; she looked sadder, more worried. "Well sir, you've been in a coma for a month." She gulped "We weren't sure if you would make it." I gasped, shocked "what? A coma? Really?" She nodded, a genuine look of sympathy in her eyes. I sat up, but just a little too fast. A pain shot through my stomach so I laid back down. "How did I get in a coma? Last I remember I won the lottery and went to sleep!". She nodded again. "Well, you sleepwalked out into the road with your lottery ticket and got hit by a car. To make things worse, your ticket blew away and we can't find it".
I couldn't believe it. Finally, something good happened in my life and I end up in a coma? That celebrity was right, karma must be real. What goes around comes around. My shitty past came back to bite me in the ass. I was lost in thought, pondering karma when the nurse got my attention. "Sir. Sir? Sir!" I turned and looked at her still in shock "Yes?" "Before I bring the doctor in, I need to make sure you still have some memory. Do you remember your name?"
I did. I do remember my name. I sighed.
"My name is Earl." | The light, it /hurt/ so damned much. My mouth was dry as well. I tried to move my lips, however, the pain I instantly felt told me they were cracked and it was a terrible idea to move them much further. Slowly I started a mental checklist of my extremities to judge what was working. I was aware of someone else next to me saying something softly but I couldn't make them out. First I moved my toes, I felt a response it wasn't as much as I was commanding them, but, a response none the less. As I worked my way up my body the overall response was underwhelming. That voice next to me was getting bothersome I knew it but didn't know it at the same time. It hung at the back of my brain pestering me I felt I should know it but couldn't place it.
Suddenly something opened my right eye and at once a white hot light was shining in it. I tried to will my eye shut and my hand over it. Though my body rebelled against my command. The eye was closed again and merciful darkness enveloped me. More voices one low the other higher. Whispers to faint to hear. I struggled to hear them, what was going on. This shouldn't be that hard. I felt sleep pulling me back, something was telling me to fight it but, it was so powerful. Maybe after a few seconds then I'll try and figure this problem out.
It felt like the light got brighter. I was aware some time had passed, regretfully more than a few seconds. The light was a softer color, more of an orange color. It felt like evening time. I don't know how I knew I just felt like the day was almost over. Again a quick stock of my body and again very meager responses. This worried me, as I tried to think through the haze of my brain. Where was I? Why was it so hard to move? And most importantly what the hell was happening?
These questions burned my mind as I heard a voice still hard to put the words together, harder still to place the voice. 'I should know this voice,' I said to myself inwardly. More importantly, I FELT I should know this voice. It pulled at something deep within me. I felt a gentle touch on my wrist as if a hand was resting on it. Then I felt a body close to my head almost touching and could now clearly hear a male voice whisper in my ear, "I'm so sorry you didn't get to see her before you woke up brother, but you gotta wake up now man."
The voice cracked slightly and a faint sniff echoed in my ear as he resumed talking, "I'm begging you man, please pull out of it. We can see the scans. We can see you responding to us Brother. Please, you gotta wake up. I haven't asked much from you, but I gotta see you wake up."
This was absurd I KNEW this voice why couldn't I place it? I tried to open my eyes but my body just wouldn't respond. With more effort, I pushed my eyes to open, yet still, they refused. Now I've had it. Almost pissed I drew on my deepest reserves and mentally screamed at myself to open my damned eyes. This was some joke, some sick joke or a dream I needed out of. With every ounce of will I had I tried to push my eyes open and my lids felt like lead sheets. But I felt movement. A slight crack in my vision. The man next to me gasped, "shit" quietly and I felt him move away with a faint flurry of noise. I wasn't deterred I willed my eyes open and they responded so sluggishly. The color was dull and the vision was hazy beyond belief but They were open! FINALLY!
I saw a dark figure by a large dark rectangle. The voice was coming from there. It sounded, excited, hurried and manic? I tried to call out to whoever he was but nothing escaped my lips. It was so hard to keep my eyes open. The figure turned and a pale fuzzy circle appeared where I thought the face would be. It rushed over suddenly getting HUGE in my vision. I tried to not blink I knew my eyelids wouldn't lift a second time. The face became a chin as I felt lips press to my forehead. Then eyes appeared as he looked at me. Instantly I knew those eyes. The name escaped me but I knew my brother when I saw his eyes. They were old though. Much older eyes then I remembered. My eyes had such a hard time staying open I felt sleep running towards me and knew I couldn't help it.
"I can't believe it worked, oh man have I got so much to tell you, Bro!" His eyes and face showed sorrow. His voice could barely contain the excitement. I saw him move up and felt another kiss on my forehead.
My eyes wouldn't stay open no matter how much I forced it, the anger sapped so much from me. I had to close my eyes again. Everything faded away again. Until I was back in the black again.
This time I knew time had passed, yet not as much as last time. The color behind my eyes was more of a brighter white. It felt of noon on a warm summer day. I felt a genital breeze wash over me. The smell was amazing. It smelled of sea and salt and fresh bread. I could almost smell the Blue of the ocean I could hear the green of the trees outside, and I could feel the bright colors of the beach goers. I found it so much easier to open my eyes this time and they didn't hurt so much either. I quickly took stock of my body and felt more sluggishness but it was expected this time. I looked around through heavy eyelids and saw a small white room. An older man, from the way he held his body, looked to be late 60's early 70's sitting on a chair across from me. The light and shadow from the curtains played gently on his still form. The rest of the room looked like a future hospital room. Holograms on the walls, an image hovering in the corner of the ceiling looking like a TV. Then the doorway that lead out into the rest of the world.
Someone came in from the doorway quietly covered in white with blue underneath something hung around his neck and he carried a see through clipboard with what appeared to be every color floating on it. He looked from the 'screen-board' looked at me and stopped. The shock was evident on his face. Slowly he approached me.
"Sir, jou are awake?" His voice was thickly accented in Spanish. "Welcome back. I'm a doctor and I'm taking care of jou. Jou've arrived unconscious with a head trauma nearly 40 years ago and jou need to be patient and rest so we can put you back in shape."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Part 2 inbound |
Edit: for everyone saying "taxes on the winnings and medical bills for the coma"....I'm Canadian. I never thought of such atrocities. | [WP] You finally won the lottery. $20 million. You go to sleep that night a rich and happy person. You wake up to a nurse, explaining you've just awoken from a coma. | "Are you feeling okay? Can you speak?"
"I- what happened? Why am I here?"
"You were in an accident, do you remember?"
"Yeah, of course, but that was years- oh, *shit*."
"You've been comatose for a long time - around six months now"
*Six months? That can't be right.* "But the accident was nearly eight years ago! Before I moved, before I met Alice, before I won-" I stopped suddenly, a sinking feeling in my stomach.
The nurse was looking more uncomfortable by the moment, but she prompted me anyway. "Won... what?
"Before I won the $20 million."
The nurse smiled sadly at me, "Sometimes comatose patients can have dreams, very *vivid* dreams, while they're out." She patted my shoulder sympathetically and moved to walk away, "I need to get the doctor, I'll be back." She left me alone with my thoughts.
\* * *
Two months. That's how long it took for them to let me out. It took longer for me to walk unaided. Eventually, my life regained a sense of normalcy. Or, as normal as it could be, given the circumstances.
I did end up moving, just like I did in the dream. I even got the right address. I went to that pub every night, but there was never an Alice there. One of the waitresses remembered an old co-worker called Alice, but she'd moved halfway across the world with her new husband. *Can't be her*. The date we should have met came and went without incident. *It's okay*, I told myself, *maybe things just happen a little out of order*.
The big one was coming up. Alice and I hadn't been together more than three months before I won the lottery. She always said I brought her good luck. I bought the ticket on the right day, at the right time, and with the right numbers - the date Alice and I had our first kiss. Nauseating, I know, but she thought it was sweet. I hadn't expected to actually *win*.
This time, though, I had to. I *needed* to. I needed to win the money, meet Alice, buy our house, buy the car, go on that holiday, adopt the dog, and the cat, get married, help Barry, watch the final, go to Nicole's wedding, talk to Alice about having kids, *put my life back the way it's supposed to be*.
The numbers were wrong. I won nothing except the taste of ashes in my mouth as I threw the ticket in the bin and walked back to my apartment. There was no winning ticket. There was no money, no house, no car, no holiday, no dog, no cat, no children. No Alice.
Sometimes, dreams don't come true. | I hear first the little beep, sounding over and over from the machines at my side, an insistent alarm which refuses to let me go back to sleep. The fog lifts slowly, like an insistent mist defiant to the morning sun.
A nurse checks in, sees me awake, weakly pulling at the tubes feeding into me. She pads off urgently, and returns with the doctor, who asks me, one too many times, the following question:
"Mr Bensters, what is the last memory you have?"
I shake my head, struggling to contort my tongue around words not spoken for too long. "I... won the lottery, didn't I? With the birthday money I got when I turned 18? Largest payout in my city, ever? Did I drink too much, pass out or something? God, I hope I didn't do anything stupid..."
It takes them the better part of an hour, aided in part with strong tranquilisers, to get me calm again, after they show me the mirror, and after I realised that there was no makeup involved, that there really was a balding, middle-aged man staring back from the other side of the mirror.
"Mr Bensters, please, you need to cooperate. What is the last memory you recall?"
"What does it matter?" I cry, throat hoarse, eyes still swimming with tears. "Where did the years go? That money was my ticket to a better life, so why am I here? Why am I old now?"
Then the realisation strikes me, and fear, like the dormant serpent that it is, rises angrily in my belly, locking me in a paralytic seizure.
"Am I still rich? How much money do I have left?"
"Just... enough for us to be here to take care of you. It's a public hospital, so it's more affordable, so don't worry about that."
"Don't worry? I had millions! I could have stayed at a private hospital, anywhere I wanted! Where did it all go!"
The serpent, provoked, turns hostile. I feel the anger course through my veins, and as I flail about on bed, the ink on my left wrist catches my eye. My name, and her name, criss-crossed in a stylised lightning bolt.
"Who is this Karen?" I yell, frustration washing over me as I fail even to recall what she looked like. "Is she here? Is she coming? Was she the one who took all my riches away?"
"Please, we have strict instructions from her. Do you remember anything about her, at all? Your condition, in most cases there's memory damage too, and she's insisted, we can only tell you as much as you can remember on your own, nothing more..."
I search my memory, reaching deep. I feel nothing, not even the glimmer which good memories tend to have, that silvery warmth which lingers long after the event has passed.
Nothing.
All that's left is fear, suspicion, a rank distaste. I've had so much taken from me in so little time.
"I don't remember anything! Happy now? But I swear, once I get out, I'll find out what she did to me. She must have taken it all, taken everything once I got admitted here. These thieving women, you can't trust any of them, not a single one..."
The nurse steps forward then, her lips drawn tightly together. The doctor attempts to hold her back, but then yields, perhaps having thought better of it.
"Mr Bensters, I won't allow you to say that of Karen. It's wrong, it is. She would be so hurt to know you thought of her that way, after all she did for you, all that time she sat by your side waiting for you to awaken."
"It was for the money, I bet that was what it was. Just to show she cared for me, so that she could claim it while I'm here!"
The nurse leans in so close I can see the white of her eyes.
"You're here on *her* money, Mr Bensters. You had none left of your own when you met her. I know because I was there when she first filled in the forms for your admission."
The nurse leaves, storming out. The doctor looks at me, tries to speak once or twice, but the words are difficult to find in situations like this.
"So what can you tell me about Karen?" I ask, eventually.
"I can't say. Her estate has made it very clear, we can't say anything about it if you cannot recall. Her last wish was for you to be free, if ever you woke up."
He leans in, places a heavy hand on my shoulder.
"Make the most of it this time, please."
---
/r/rarelyfunny
|
Edit: for everyone saying "taxes on the winnings and medical bills for the coma"....I'm Canadian. I never thought of such atrocities. | [WP] You finally won the lottery. $20 million. You go to sleep that night a rich and happy person. You wake up to a nurse, explaining you've just awoken from a coma. | My eyes opened as fast as they had closed. *This is not my room* I thought to myself.
"Hello sir you've just awoken from a 4 year coma since the year 1928." Said a nurse, standing at my bedside.
"Oh wow I can't wait to use my 20 million that I invested in the stock market!" | I hear first the little beep, sounding over and over from the machines at my side, an insistent alarm which refuses to let me go back to sleep. The fog lifts slowly, like an insistent mist defiant to the morning sun.
A nurse checks in, sees me awake, weakly pulling at the tubes feeding into me. She pads off urgently, and returns with the doctor, who asks me, one too many times, the following question:
"Mr Bensters, what is the last memory you have?"
I shake my head, struggling to contort my tongue around words not spoken for too long. "I... won the lottery, didn't I? With the birthday money I got when I turned 18? Largest payout in my city, ever? Did I drink too much, pass out or something? God, I hope I didn't do anything stupid..."
It takes them the better part of an hour, aided in part with strong tranquilisers, to get me calm again, after they show me the mirror, and after I realised that there was no makeup involved, that there really was a balding, middle-aged man staring back from the other side of the mirror.
"Mr Bensters, please, you need to cooperate. What is the last memory you recall?"
"What does it matter?" I cry, throat hoarse, eyes still swimming with tears. "Where did the years go? That money was my ticket to a better life, so why am I here? Why am I old now?"
Then the realisation strikes me, and fear, like the dormant serpent that it is, rises angrily in my belly, locking me in a paralytic seizure.
"Am I still rich? How much money do I have left?"
"Just... enough for us to be here to take care of you. It's a public hospital, so it's more affordable, so don't worry about that."
"Don't worry? I had millions! I could have stayed at a private hospital, anywhere I wanted! Where did it all go!"
The serpent, provoked, turns hostile. I feel the anger course through my veins, and as I flail about on bed, the ink on my left wrist catches my eye. My name, and her name, criss-crossed in a stylised lightning bolt.
"Who is this Karen?" I yell, frustration washing over me as I fail even to recall what she looked like. "Is she here? Is she coming? Was she the one who took all my riches away?"
"Please, we have strict instructions from her. Do you remember anything about her, at all? Your condition, in most cases there's memory damage too, and she's insisted, we can only tell you as much as you can remember on your own, nothing more..."
I search my memory, reaching deep. I feel nothing, not even the glimmer which good memories tend to have, that silvery warmth which lingers long after the event has passed.
Nothing.
All that's left is fear, suspicion, a rank distaste. I've had so much taken from me in so little time.
"I don't remember anything! Happy now? But I swear, once I get out, I'll find out what she did to me. She must have taken it all, taken everything once I got admitted here. These thieving women, you can't trust any of them, not a single one..."
The nurse steps forward then, her lips drawn tightly together. The doctor attempts to hold her back, but then yields, perhaps having thought better of it.
"Mr Bensters, I won't allow you to say that of Karen. It's wrong, it is. She would be so hurt to know you thought of her that way, after all she did for you, all that time she sat by your side waiting for you to awaken."
"It was for the money, I bet that was what it was. Just to show she cared for me, so that she could claim it while I'm here!"
The nurse leans in so close I can see the white of her eyes.
"You're here on *her* money, Mr Bensters. You had none left of your own when you met her. I know because I was there when she first filled in the forms for your admission."
The nurse leaves, storming out. The doctor looks at me, tries to speak once or twice, but the words are difficult to find in situations like this.
"So what can you tell me about Karen?" I ask, eventually.
"I can't say. Her estate has made it very clear, we can't say anything about it if you cannot recall. Her last wish was for you to be free, if ever you woke up."
He leans in, places a heavy hand on my shoulder.
"Make the most of it this time, please."
---
/r/rarelyfunny
|
Edit: for everyone saying "taxes on the winnings and medical bills for the coma"....I'm Canadian. I never thought of such atrocities. | [WP] You finally won the lottery. $20 million. You go to sleep that night a rich and happy person. You wake up to a nurse, explaining you've just awoken from a coma. | I was always kind of an asshole. I stole, I cheated, I bullied kids, I was mean to my brother, I was just sort of a dick in general. It wasn't always my fault, shitty things happened to me, so I did shitty things to other people. I was unemployed, broke, and living in a trailer park.
At least until I won the lottery.
On a whim I decided to buy a lottery ticket. It was a desperate move admittedly. My ex wife needed her child support and I wanted to buy booze. I didn't really expect to win, so imagine my surprise when my numbers were drawn on the evening news.
20 million dollars. I won 20 million fucking dollars.
I almost had a heart attack when I found out. Unfortunately, my car was in the shop so I was going to have to wait until the next day to collect my (or, my ex-wife's) money. I went to sleep that night with dreams of a worry free life.
I woke up to the sound of medical equipment and late night TV. I was in a hospital room. I wasn't sure how I got here, but yet here I was. I couldnt move, my mucles were sore, it felt like they atrophied. It wasnt the first time I woke up in the hospital with no memory of how I got there, so I wasn't too worried. Nobody was around, so I was watching TV. Some celebrity was talking about karma with a late night host.
I started considering becoming a better person when the nurse walked in. "Oh, you're up!" She looked surprised. I laughed. "How drunk was I this time when I stumbled in?" Her face changed as she picked up my chart; she looked sadder, more worried. "Well sir, you've been in a coma for a month." She gulped "We weren't sure if you would make it." I gasped, shocked "what? A coma? Really?" She nodded, a genuine look of sympathy in her eyes. I sat up, but just a little too fast. A pain shot through my stomach so I laid back down. "How did I get in a coma? Last I remember I won the lottery and went to sleep!". She nodded again. "Well, you sleepwalked out into the road with your lottery ticket and got hit by a car. To make things worse, your ticket blew away and we can't find it".
I couldn't believe it. Finally, something good happened in my life and I end up in a coma? That celebrity was right, karma must be real. What goes around comes around. My shitty past came back to bite me in the ass. I was lost in thought, pondering karma when the nurse got my attention. "Sir. Sir? Sir!" I turned and looked at her still in shock "Yes?" "Before I bring the doctor in, I need to make sure you still have some memory. Do you remember your name?"
I did. I do remember my name. I sighed.
"My name is Earl." | I hear first the little beep, sounding over and over from the machines at my side, an insistent alarm which refuses to let me go back to sleep. The fog lifts slowly, like an insistent mist defiant to the morning sun.
A nurse checks in, sees me awake, weakly pulling at the tubes feeding into me. She pads off urgently, and returns with the doctor, who asks me, one too many times, the following question:
"Mr Bensters, what is the last memory you have?"
I shake my head, struggling to contort my tongue around words not spoken for too long. "I... won the lottery, didn't I? With the birthday money I got when I turned 18? Largest payout in my city, ever? Did I drink too much, pass out or something? God, I hope I didn't do anything stupid..."
It takes them the better part of an hour, aided in part with strong tranquilisers, to get me calm again, after they show me the mirror, and after I realised that there was no makeup involved, that there really was a balding, middle-aged man staring back from the other side of the mirror.
"Mr Bensters, please, you need to cooperate. What is the last memory you recall?"
"What does it matter?" I cry, throat hoarse, eyes still swimming with tears. "Where did the years go? That money was my ticket to a better life, so why am I here? Why am I old now?"
Then the realisation strikes me, and fear, like the dormant serpent that it is, rises angrily in my belly, locking me in a paralytic seizure.
"Am I still rich? How much money do I have left?"
"Just... enough for us to be here to take care of you. It's a public hospital, so it's more affordable, so don't worry about that."
"Don't worry? I had millions! I could have stayed at a private hospital, anywhere I wanted! Where did it all go!"
The serpent, provoked, turns hostile. I feel the anger course through my veins, and as I flail about on bed, the ink on my left wrist catches my eye. My name, and her name, criss-crossed in a stylised lightning bolt.
"Who is this Karen?" I yell, frustration washing over me as I fail even to recall what she looked like. "Is she here? Is she coming? Was she the one who took all my riches away?"
"Please, we have strict instructions from her. Do you remember anything about her, at all? Your condition, in most cases there's memory damage too, and she's insisted, we can only tell you as much as you can remember on your own, nothing more..."
I search my memory, reaching deep. I feel nothing, not even the glimmer which good memories tend to have, that silvery warmth which lingers long after the event has passed.
Nothing.
All that's left is fear, suspicion, a rank distaste. I've had so much taken from me in so little time.
"I don't remember anything! Happy now? But I swear, once I get out, I'll find out what she did to me. She must have taken it all, taken everything once I got admitted here. These thieving women, you can't trust any of them, not a single one..."
The nurse steps forward then, her lips drawn tightly together. The doctor attempts to hold her back, but then yields, perhaps having thought better of it.
"Mr Bensters, I won't allow you to say that of Karen. It's wrong, it is. She would be so hurt to know you thought of her that way, after all she did for you, all that time she sat by your side waiting for you to awaken."
"It was for the money, I bet that was what it was. Just to show she cared for me, so that she could claim it while I'm here!"
The nurse leans in so close I can see the white of her eyes.
"You're here on *her* money, Mr Bensters. You had none left of your own when you met her. I know because I was there when she first filled in the forms for your admission."
The nurse leaves, storming out. The doctor looks at me, tries to speak once or twice, but the words are difficult to find in situations like this.
"So what can you tell me about Karen?" I ask, eventually.
"I can't say. Her estate has made it very clear, we can't say anything about it if you cannot recall. Her last wish was for you to be free, if ever you woke up."
He leans in, places a heavy hand on my shoulder.
"Make the most of it this time, please."
---
/r/rarelyfunny
|
Edit: for everyone saying "taxes on the winnings and medical bills for the coma"....I'm Canadian. I never thought of such atrocities. | [WP] You finally won the lottery. $20 million. You go to sleep that night a rich and happy person. You wake up to a nurse, explaining you've just awoken from a coma. | Another day of nothing behind me, and another night in the Gypsy. I set my empty beer onto the counter and waited for the bartender to look in my general direction. The bar seemed crowded for a Tuesday, people I didn't know were packed in and having a grand time. There was a lot of laughter and hugging going on, probably celebrating something. I wish they would leave for another bar. The Gypsy is my safe place, a place that helps me forget about her.
Someone had put music on the jukebox, but it was nothing that I knew. In fact, I wasn't even sure if it was music. There were no lyrics, just a steady constant beeping. God, if this is the new dub step, I am giving up on humanity. The bartender comes up to me, smiling sweetly, grabbing my empty. Kate is good at her job. She never sits with her face glued to a cell phone, never questions why I sit in the same place every night even though I am only 30, and always takes care of me.
"How are you tonight, Cory?" She asks me, mixing some sort of cocktail.
"Fine, I suppose. A bit crowded tonight though. Could you close me out? I think I am going to finish up at home." I reach for my wallet, but she shakes her head.
"This one is on me. Have a good night!" She chirps, returning to attending the large group. I give her a nod and a smile and begin walking towards the door. A cute woman with blonde hair and freckles suddenly steps in front of me. It is almost as if she is staring right through me. Probably drunk. She reaches up and brushes her fingers through my hair slowly, making me uneasy.
"Excuse me." I state bluntly and walk around her and out of the door. Yup, she was drunk. I wobble the four blocks back to my apartment and fumble with the keys until I manage to get inside. Collapsing on the couch, the familiar thoughts of guilt begin to run through me. The whole scene plays out piece by piece. We were on a date night. She wanted to get home and sleep but I was having too much fun and forced her to stay out with me for a movie. We were driving home, about 5 minutes away, when I missed my turn. That's when it came out of nowhere. A car from around the corner, going too fast and with their headlights off. She died, I didn't. What made me feel worst is that I couldn't even remember her face. I destroyed our photos after it happened because I couldn't bare to see her. If only we had stayed home.
I reach into my pocket for my smokes, but pull out a lottery ticket instead. I dont know why I even get these things. Maybe for the impossible chance of waking up with a new life. I pull my smartphone out and look up the numbers. It takes about several minutes of me looking at the screen and back to the crumpled ticket in disbelief for me to realize that Ive actually done it. I have won. The pot is 20 million dollars, and even after taxes and lump sum cuts, I am looking at around 10 million. More than I have made in my entire life. I set the ticket down and wonder about my next move. If I had friends and loved ones, maybe I would call them. I close my eyes, smiling for the first time in years. For a moment, I feel sort of happy.
The next thing I hear is that song again. Beep...Beep....Beep. I open my eyes to see only brightness and haze. How much did I drink, I wonder. I instinctively reach for the coffee table next to the couch with my ticket on it, but for whatever reason, I can't move my arms more than an inch. I hear a woman's voice suddenly.
"Nurse! Nurse! He is waking up!" I can feel the presence of people entering the room, two shadows looming over me.
"Cory, are you with us? Cory?" A familiar voice asks. My vision begins to clear, and the first person I see is Kate the the bartender, except for some reason, she is dressed in nurse scrubs. "You have been asleep for awhile. Glad to see you open your eyes. Let me check your vitals."
The second person in the room leans over into my field of vision. It is the blonde from the bar, the one with the freckles. She gently brushes my hair on my forehead like she had done before. That's when I begin to recognize her, not from last night, but from long ago.
"I was so worried about you Cory." She says, crying and smiling now. "After the accident, they didn't know if you were going to wake up. But I knew it...you wouldn't leave me like this."
The world starts swimming. Could it be? Am I dreaming? Is this Kaylee? She bends down and embraces me, and I smell the familiar mixture of lavender and Marlboro again. I try to form words but my mouth is so dry that only air comes out. The thought of the lottery ticket is the furthest thing from my mind. This...this is what I have wanted. | I hear first the little beep, sounding over and over from the machines at my side, an insistent alarm which refuses to let me go back to sleep. The fog lifts slowly, like an insistent mist defiant to the morning sun.
A nurse checks in, sees me awake, weakly pulling at the tubes feeding into me. She pads off urgently, and returns with the doctor, who asks me, one too many times, the following question:
"Mr Bensters, what is the last memory you have?"
I shake my head, struggling to contort my tongue around words not spoken for too long. "I... won the lottery, didn't I? With the birthday money I got when I turned 18? Largest payout in my city, ever? Did I drink too much, pass out or something? God, I hope I didn't do anything stupid..."
It takes them the better part of an hour, aided in part with strong tranquilisers, to get me calm again, after they show me the mirror, and after I realised that there was no makeup involved, that there really was a balding, middle-aged man staring back from the other side of the mirror.
"Mr Bensters, please, you need to cooperate. What is the last memory you recall?"
"What does it matter?" I cry, throat hoarse, eyes still swimming with tears. "Where did the years go? That money was my ticket to a better life, so why am I here? Why am I old now?"
Then the realisation strikes me, and fear, like the dormant serpent that it is, rises angrily in my belly, locking me in a paralytic seizure.
"Am I still rich? How much money do I have left?"
"Just... enough for us to be here to take care of you. It's a public hospital, so it's more affordable, so don't worry about that."
"Don't worry? I had millions! I could have stayed at a private hospital, anywhere I wanted! Where did it all go!"
The serpent, provoked, turns hostile. I feel the anger course through my veins, and as I flail about on bed, the ink on my left wrist catches my eye. My name, and her name, criss-crossed in a stylised lightning bolt.
"Who is this Karen?" I yell, frustration washing over me as I fail even to recall what she looked like. "Is she here? Is she coming? Was she the one who took all my riches away?"
"Please, we have strict instructions from her. Do you remember anything about her, at all? Your condition, in most cases there's memory damage too, and she's insisted, we can only tell you as much as you can remember on your own, nothing more..."
I search my memory, reaching deep. I feel nothing, not even the glimmer which good memories tend to have, that silvery warmth which lingers long after the event has passed.
Nothing.
All that's left is fear, suspicion, a rank distaste. I've had so much taken from me in so little time.
"I don't remember anything! Happy now? But I swear, once I get out, I'll find out what she did to me. She must have taken it all, taken everything once I got admitted here. These thieving women, you can't trust any of them, not a single one..."
The nurse steps forward then, her lips drawn tightly together. The doctor attempts to hold her back, but then yields, perhaps having thought better of it.
"Mr Bensters, I won't allow you to say that of Karen. It's wrong, it is. She would be so hurt to know you thought of her that way, after all she did for you, all that time she sat by your side waiting for you to awaken."
"It was for the money, I bet that was what it was. Just to show she cared for me, so that she could claim it while I'm here!"
The nurse leans in so close I can see the white of her eyes.
"You're here on *her* money, Mr Bensters. You had none left of your own when you met her. I know because I was there when she first filled in the forms for your admission."
The nurse leaves, storming out. The doctor looks at me, tries to speak once or twice, but the words are difficult to find in situations like this.
"So what can you tell me about Karen?" I ask, eventually.
"I can't say. Her estate has made it very clear, we can't say anything about it if you cannot recall. Her last wish was for you to be free, if ever you woke up."
He leans in, places a heavy hand on my shoulder.
"Make the most of it this time, please."
---
/r/rarelyfunny
|
Edit: for everyone saying "taxes on the winnings and medical bills for the coma"....I'm Canadian. I never thought of such atrocities. | [WP] You finally won the lottery. $20 million. You go to sleep that night a rich and happy person. You wake up to a nurse, explaining you've just awoken from a coma. | My eyes opened as fast as they had closed. *This is not my room* I thought to myself.
"Hello sir you've just awoken from a 4 year coma since the year 1928." Said a nurse, standing at my bedside.
"Oh wow I can't wait to use my 20 million that I invested in the stock market!" | "Are you feeling okay? Can you speak?"
"I- what happened? Why am I here?"
"You were in an accident, do you remember?"
"Yeah, of course, but that was years- oh, *shit*."
"You've been comatose for a long time - around six months now"
*Six months? That can't be right.* "But the accident was nearly eight years ago! Before I moved, before I met Alice, before I won-" I stopped suddenly, a sinking feeling in my stomach.
The nurse was looking more uncomfortable by the moment, but she prompted me anyway. "Won... what?
"Before I won the $20 million."
The nurse smiled sadly at me, "Sometimes comatose patients can have dreams, very *vivid* dreams, while they're out." She patted my shoulder sympathetically and moved to walk away, "I need to get the doctor, I'll be back." She left me alone with my thoughts.
\* * *
Two months. That's how long it took for them to let me out. It took longer for me to walk unaided. Eventually, my life regained a sense of normalcy. Or, as normal as it could be, given the circumstances.
I did end up moving, just like I did in the dream. I even got the right address. I went to that pub every night, but there was never an Alice there. One of the waitresses remembered an old co-worker called Alice, but she'd moved halfway across the world with her new husband. *Can't be her*. The date we should have met came and went without incident. *It's okay*, I told myself, *maybe things just happen a little out of order*.
The big one was coming up. Alice and I hadn't been together more than three months before I won the lottery. She always said I brought her good luck. I bought the ticket on the right day, at the right time, and with the right numbers - the date Alice and I had our first kiss. Nauseating, I know, but she thought it was sweet. I hadn't expected to actually *win*.
This time, though, I had to. I *needed* to. I needed to win the money, meet Alice, buy our house, buy the car, go on that holiday, adopt the dog, and the cat, get married, help Barry, watch the final, go to Nicole's wedding, talk to Alice about having kids, *put my life back the way it's supposed to be*.
The numbers were wrong. I won nothing except the taste of ashes in my mouth as I threw the ticket in the bin and walked back to my apartment. There was no winning ticket. There was no money, no house, no car, no holiday, no dog, no cat, no children. No Alice.
Sometimes, dreams don't come true. |
Edit: for everyone saying "taxes on the winnings and medical bills for the coma"....I'm Canadian. I never thought of such atrocities. | [WP] You finally won the lottery. $20 million. You go to sleep that night a rich and happy person. You wake up to a nurse, explaining you've just awoken from a coma. | I was always kind of an asshole. I stole, I cheated, I bullied kids, I was mean to my brother, I was just sort of a dick in general. It wasn't always my fault, shitty things happened to me, so I did shitty things to other people. I was unemployed, broke, and living in a trailer park.
At least until I won the lottery.
On a whim I decided to buy a lottery ticket. It was a desperate move admittedly. My ex wife needed her child support and I wanted to buy booze. I didn't really expect to win, so imagine my surprise when my numbers were drawn on the evening news.
20 million dollars. I won 20 million fucking dollars.
I almost had a heart attack when I found out. Unfortunately, my car was in the shop so I was going to have to wait until the next day to collect my (or, my ex-wife's) money. I went to sleep that night with dreams of a worry free life.
I woke up to the sound of medical equipment and late night TV. I was in a hospital room. I wasn't sure how I got here, but yet here I was. I couldnt move, my mucles were sore, it felt like they atrophied. It wasnt the first time I woke up in the hospital with no memory of how I got there, so I wasn't too worried. Nobody was around, so I was watching TV. Some celebrity was talking about karma with a late night host.
I started considering becoming a better person when the nurse walked in. "Oh, you're up!" She looked surprised. I laughed. "How drunk was I this time when I stumbled in?" Her face changed as she picked up my chart; she looked sadder, more worried. "Well sir, you've been in a coma for a month." She gulped "We weren't sure if you would make it." I gasped, shocked "what? A coma? Really?" She nodded, a genuine look of sympathy in her eyes. I sat up, but just a little too fast. A pain shot through my stomach so I laid back down. "How did I get in a coma? Last I remember I won the lottery and went to sleep!". She nodded again. "Well, you sleepwalked out into the road with your lottery ticket and got hit by a car. To make things worse, your ticket blew away and we can't find it".
I couldn't believe it. Finally, something good happened in my life and I end up in a coma? That celebrity was right, karma must be real. What goes around comes around. My shitty past came back to bite me in the ass. I was lost in thought, pondering karma when the nurse got my attention. "Sir. Sir? Sir!" I turned and looked at her still in shock "Yes?" "Before I bring the doctor in, I need to make sure you still have some memory. Do you remember your name?"
I did. I do remember my name. I sighed.
"My name is Earl." | "Are you feeling okay? Can you speak?"
"I- what happened? Why am I here?"
"You were in an accident, do you remember?"
"Yeah, of course, but that was years- oh, *shit*."
"You've been comatose for a long time - around six months now"
*Six months? That can't be right.* "But the accident was nearly eight years ago! Before I moved, before I met Alice, before I won-" I stopped suddenly, a sinking feeling in my stomach.
The nurse was looking more uncomfortable by the moment, but she prompted me anyway. "Won... what?
"Before I won the $20 million."
The nurse smiled sadly at me, "Sometimes comatose patients can have dreams, very *vivid* dreams, while they're out." She patted my shoulder sympathetically and moved to walk away, "I need to get the doctor, I'll be back." She left me alone with my thoughts.
\* * *
Two months. That's how long it took for them to let me out. It took longer for me to walk unaided. Eventually, my life regained a sense of normalcy. Or, as normal as it could be, given the circumstances.
I did end up moving, just like I did in the dream. I even got the right address. I went to that pub every night, but there was never an Alice there. One of the waitresses remembered an old co-worker called Alice, but she'd moved halfway across the world with her new husband. *Can't be her*. The date we should have met came and went without incident. *It's okay*, I told myself, *maybe things just happen a little out of order*.
The big one was coming up. Alice and I hadn't been together more than three months before I won the lottery. She always said I brought her good luck. I bought the ticket on the right day, at the right time, and with the right numbers - the date Alice and I had our first kiss. Nauseating, I know, but she thought it was sweet. I hadn't expected to actually *win*.
This time, though, I had to. I *needed* to. I needed to win the money, meet Alice, buy our house, buy the car, go on that holiday, adopt the dog, and the cat, get married, help Barry, watch the final, go to Nicole's wedding, talk to Alice about having kids, *put my life back the way it's supposed to be*.
The numbers were wrong. I won nothing except the taste of ashes in my mouth as I threw the ticket in the bin and walked back to my apartment. There was no winning ticket. There was no money, no house, no car, no holiday, no dog, no cat, no children. No Alice.
Sometimes, dreams don't come true. |
Edit: for everyone saying "taxes on the winnings and medical bills for the coma"....I'm Canadian. I never thought of such atrocities. | [WP] You finally won the lottery. $20 million. You go to sleep that night a rich and happy person. You wake up to a nurse, explaining you've just awoken from a coma. | Another day of nothing behind me, and another night in the Gypsy. I set my empty beer onto the counter and waited for the bartender to look in my general direction. The bar seemed crowded for a Tuesday, people I didn't know were packed in and having a grand time. There was a lot of laughter and hugging going on, probably celebrating something. I wish they would leave for another bar. The Gypsy is my safe place, a place that helps me forget about her.
Someone had put music on the jukebox, but it was nothing that I knew. In fact, I wasn't even sure if it was music. There were no lyrics, just a steady constant beeping. God, if this is the new dub step, I am giving up on humanity. The bartender comes up to me, smiling sweetly, grabbing my empty. Kate is good at her job. She never sits with her face glued to a cell phone, never questions why I sit in the same place every night even though I am only 30, and always takes care of me.
"How are you tonight, Cory?" She asks me, mixing some sort of cocktail.
"Fine, I suppose. A bit crowded tonight though. Could you close me out? I think I am going to finish up at home." I reach for my wallet, but she shakes her head.
"This one is on me. Have a good night!" She chirps, returning to attending the large group. I give her a nod and a smile and begin walking towards the door. A cute woman with blonde hair and freckles suddenly steps in front of me. It is almost as if she is staring right through me. Probably drunk. She reaches up and brushes her fingers through my hair slowly, making me uneasy.
"Excuse me." I state bluntly and walk around her and out of the door. Yup, she was drunk. I wobble the four blocks back to my apartment and fumble with the keys until I manage to get inside. Collapsing on the couch, the familiar thoughts of guilt begin to run through me. The whole scene plays out piece by piece. We were on a date night. She wanted to get home and sleep but I was having too much fun and forced her to stay out with me for a movie. We were driving home, about 5 minutes away, when I missed my turn. That's when it came out of nowhere. A car from around the corner, going too fast and with their headlights off. She died, I didn't. What made me feel worst is that I couldn't even remember her face. I destroyed our photos after it happened because I couldn't bare to see her. If only we had stayed home.
I reach into my pocket for my smokes, but pull out a lottery ticket instead. I dont know why I even get these things. Maybe for the impossible chance of waking up with a new life. I pull my smartphone out and look up the numbers. It takes about several minutes of me looking at the screen and back to the crumpled ticket in disbelief for me to realize that Ive actually done it. I have won. The pot is 20 million dollars, and even after taxes and lump sum cuts, I am looking at around 10 million. More than I have made in my entire life. I set the ticket down and wonder about my next move. If I had friends and loved ones, maybe I would call them. I close my eyes, smiling for the first time in years. For a moment, I feel sort of happy.
The next thing I hear is that song again. Beep...Beep....Beep. I open my eyes to see only brightness and haze. How much did I drink, I wonder. I instinctively reach for the coffee table next to the couch with my ticket on it, but for whatever reason, I can't move my arms more than an inch. I hear a woman's voice suddenly.
"Nurse! Nurse! He is waking up!" I can feel the presence of people entering the room, two shadows looming over me.
"Cory, are you with us? Cory?" A familiar voice asks. My vision begins to clear, and the first person I see is Kate the the bartender, except for some reason, she is dressed in nurse scrubs. "You have been asleep for awhile. Glad to see you open your eyes. Let me check your vitals."
The second person in the room leans over into my field of vision. It is the blonde from the bar, the one with the freckles. She gently brushes my hair on my forehead like she had done before. That's when I begin to recognize her, not from last night, but from long ago.
"I was so worried about you Cory." She says, crying and smiling now. "After the accident, they didn't know if you were going to wake up. But I knew it...you wouldn't leave me like this."
The world starts swimming. Could it be? Am I dreaming? Is this Kaylee? She bends down and embraces me, and I smell the familiar mixture of lavender and Marlboro again. I try to form words but my mouth is so dry that only air comes out. The thought of the lottery ticket is the furthest thing from my mind. This...this is what I have wanted. | "Are you feeling okay? Can you speak?"
"I- what happened? Why am I here?"
"You were in an accident, do you remember?"
"Yeah, of course, but that was years- oh, *shit*."
"You've been comatose for a long time - around six months now"
*Six months? That can't be right.* "But the accident was nearly eight years ago! Before I moved, before I met Alice, before I won-" I stopped suddenly, a sinking feeling in my stomach.
The nurse was looking more uncomfortable by the moment, but she prompted me anyway. "Won... what?
"Before I won the $20 million."
The nurse smiled sadly at me, "Sometimes comatose patients can have dreams, very *vivid* dreams, while they're out." She patted my shoulder sympathetically and moved to walk away, "I need to get the doctor, I'll be back." She left me alone with my thoughts.
\* * *
Two months. That's how long it took for them to let me out. It took longer for me to walk unaided. Eventually, my life regained a sense of normalcy. Or, as normal as it could be, given the circumstances.
I did end up moving, just like I did in the dream. I even got the right address. I went to that pub every night, but there was never an Alice there. One of the waitresses remembered an old co-worker called Alice, but she'd moved halfway across the world with her new husband. *Can't be her*. The date we should have met came and went without incident. *It's okay*, I told myself, *maybe things just happen a little out of order*.
The big one was coming up. Alice and I hadn't been together more than three months before I won the lottery. She always said I brought her good luck. I bought the ticket on the right day, at the right time, and with the right numbers - the date Alice and I had our first kiss. Nauseating, I know, but she thought it was sweet. I hadn't expected to actually *win*.
This time, though, I had to. I *needed* to. I needed to win the money, meet Alice, buy our house, buy the car, go on that holiday, adopt the dog, and the cat, get married, help Barry, watch the final, go to Nicole's wedding, talk to Alice about having kids, *put my life back the way it's supposed to be*.
The numbers were wrong. I won nothing except the taste of ashes in my mouth as I threw the ticket in the bin and walked back to my apartment. There was no winning ticket. There was no money, no house, no car, no holiday, no dog, no cat, no children. No Alice.
Sometimes, dreams don't come true. |
Edit: for everyone saying "taxes on the winnings and medical bills for the coma"....I'm Canadian. I never thought of such atrocities. | [WP] You finally won the lottery. $20 million. You go to sleep that night a rich and happy person. You wake up to a nurse, explaining you've just awoken from a coma. | Another day of nothing behind me, and another night in the Gypsy. I set my empty beer onto the counter and waited for the bartender to look in my general direction. The bar seemed crowded for a Tuesday, people I didn't know were packed in and having a grand time. There was a lot of laughter and hugging going on, probably celebrating something. I wish they would leave for another bar. The Gypsy is my safe place, a place that helps me forget about her.
Someone had put music on the jukebox, but it was nothing that I knew. In fact, I wasn't even sure if it was music. There were no lyrics, just a steady constant beeping. God, if this is the new dub step, I am giving up on humanity. The bartender comes up to me, smiling sweetly, grabbing my empty. Kate is good at her job. She never sits with her face glued to a cell phone, never questions why I sit in the same place every night even though I am only 30, and always takes care of me.
"How are you tonight, Cory?" She asks me, mixing some sort of cocktail.
"Fine, I suppose. A bit crowded tonight though. Could you close me out? I think I am going to finish up at home." I reach for my wallet, but she shakes her head.
"This one is on me. Have a good night!" She chirps, returning to attending the large group. I give her a nod and a smile and begin walking towards the door. A cute woman with blonde hair and freckles suddenly steps in front of me. It is almost as if she is staring right through me. Probably drunk. She reaches up and brushes her fingers through my hair slowly, making me uneasy.
"Excuse me." I state bluntly and walk around her and out of the door. Yup, she was drunk. I wobble the four blocks back to my apartment and fumble with the keys until I manage to get inside. Collapsing on the couch, the familiar thoughts of guilt begin to run through me. The whole scene plays out piece by piece. We were on a date night. She wanted to get home and sleep but I was having too much fun and forced her to stay out with me for a movie. We were driving home, about 5 minutes away, when I missed my turn. That's when it came out of nowhere. A car from around the corner, going too fast and with their headlights off. She died, I didn't. What made me feel worst is that I couldn't even remember her face. I destroyed our photos after it happened because I couldn't bare to see her. If only we had stayed home.
I reach into my pocket for my smokes, but pull out a lottery ticket instead. I dont know why I even get these things. Maybe for the impossible chance of waking up with a new life. I pull my smartphone out and look up the numbers. It takes about several minutes of me looking at the screen and back to the crumpled ticket in disbelief for me to realize that Ive actually done it. I have won. The pot is 20 million dollars, and even after taxes and lump sum cuts, I am looking at around 10 million. More than I have made in my entire life. I set the ticket down and wonder about my next move. If I had friends and loved ones, maybe I would call them. I close my eyes, smiling for the first time in years. For a moment, I feel sort of happy.
The next thing I hear is that song again. Beep...Beep....Beep. I open my eyes to see only brightness and haze. How much did I drink, I wonder. I instinctively reach for the coffee table next to the couch with my ticket on it, but for whatever reason, I can't move my arms more than an inch. I hear a woman's voice suddenly.
"Nurse! Nurse! He is waking up!" I can feel the presence of people entering the room, two shadows looming over me.
"Cory, are you with us? Cory?" A familiar voice asks. My vision begins to clear, and the first person I see is Kate the the bartender, except for some reason, she is dressed in nurse scrubs. "You have been asleep for awhile. Glad to see you open your eyes. Let me check your vitals."
The second person in the room leans over into my field of vision. It is the blonde from the bar, the one with the freckles. She gently brushes my hair on my forehead like she had done before. That's when I begin to recognize her, not from last night, but from long ago.
"I was so worried about you Cory." She says, crying and smiling now. "After the accident, they didn't know if you were going to wake up. But I knew it...you wouldn't leave me like this."
The world starts swimming. Could it be? Am I dreaming? Is this Kaylee? She bends down and embraces me, and I smell the familiar mixture of lavender and Marlboro again. I try to form words but my mouth is so dry that only air comes out. The thought of the lottery ticket is the furthest thing from my mind. This...this is what I have wanted. | "You're pulling my leg, Janet. There's no way that can be true. I've been a healthy man all my life! What on earth happened?"
"I'm sorry, Mr. ...uh, Maxwell Davidson, but I don't know who this Janet is. I'm your nurse, you can call me Rachel; at least that's what at the folks here at the hospital call me."
"Janet is my wife, I thought she was playing a trick on me; you do look a lot like her, I suppose. Does she know about all this? Most importantly, what on earth happened‽"
"Mr. Davidson, my expertise is not in assessing people's mental states after an accident, but it certainly seems as though you've forgotten, and made up, and awful lot. As far as we know, you've never had a wife. You were in a terrible car accident, and although your body has made a good recovery, you sustained more damage to your head than many others I've seen."
"I'm almost certain my name is Carl Prichard. I certainly don't feel any different. Can't you people just let me out? I'm fine, and I have some important business to complete."
Instinctively checking his pockets for the winning lottery ticket, Carl found nothing. In fact, any form of identification was absent from his body. Seeing his confusion, Rachel spoke up:
"Maxwell, we've changed your clothes a few times over your weeks at the hospital. We have your wallet for when you're ready to go. Other than your jarred memories, you seem fine, so the doctor should be able to discharge within the next day."
As if on a cue, Doctor David Granger entered the room to explain the specifics of the accident with his patient for the next few minutes. While Carl's confidence in his memories was slowly whittled away with each of Granger's statements, Rachel left the room, telling the doctor she was going upstairs prepare the next meal.
In the kitchen, a man was looking over the $20 million lottery ticket in Carl Prichard's name. When he heard her steps coming up the stairs, he asked her about the operation's progress.
"Well, I think we're doing a good job at changing his memories for the time being." Rachel replied. "He looked around in his pockets, and I think he might know something is wrong judging by the fact he doesn't have major bodily injuries. If we do this all quickly, we'll be able to get away with it."
The two walked to their van with Carl's ID and winning lottery ticket as Rachel plugged the lottery's headquarters address into her phone.
"It say's we can be there in two hours. Silly thing had to be put at the state capital... why not make it in the biggest city? As long as David can keep him in our mock-up hospital room until noon, we should be able to claim the cash without any issues."
---
Mired in confusion, Carl was now demanding to see his ID.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Davidson, we have to run some routine tests before we can leave you. For one thing, I have to know that you're mentally well, and this outrage is not helping you in that manner. Please be calm, and I may even be able to clear you by the afternoon. I can understand this is difficult to cope with, but all those memories were just made up in these last few weeks."
Stalling for time, Granger said he had to check up on some other patients and would be back in about fifteen minutes.
He locked the door behind him before returning upstairs to call Rachel.
---
By the end of the phone call, the three were content with their progress, and with each passing minute, Rachel and the man were drawing nearer to the lottery office. Throughout the morning, Granger continued to "check up" on Carl and "run some tests," buying himself the couple hours before the heist of sorts was complete.
When Rachel pulled into the parking lot of the Big Bucks Lottery HQ, the man put on his hat, took Carl's ID and already-signed lottery ticket, and went in to claim the money.
Rachel watched the minutes pass on the van's clock as she waited for her accomplice to return. She turned on the radio to distract her, imagining the words being spoken: "Yes, my name is Carl Prichard." "Yes, I would like the instant money; yeah, I'm not patient enough for the annuity." "Here's the bank account I would like the money in."
A hundred miles away, the real Carl Prichard was ready to blow a gasket. Not ready to succumb to the lies he was being told, the man busted down the room's door, revealing a residential home's hallway. At the sound of mayhem, Granger immediately ran out the door and sped away in his car.
Rachel's phone was now ringing. "Hey, is he still okay," she immediately asked.
"No, he busted down the door, and right about now, he'll be finding out he was in an empty foreclosed home for the last 24 hours. Surely his head has stopped hurting from what we did last night, and he'll probably be calling his wife with the next phone he can get his hands on."
The one they called Rachel hung up; she was now sweating profusely. Why wouldn't he come out? Were the lottery people suspicious of him? The doors opened. An employee walked out, looking for a "white van." He approached Rachel's door and asked if she could come in as a family member and witness.
She was led to a small room, and asked if she could testify that the man before her was Carl Prichard. Forcing excitement, she got out an unconvincing "yes." Convinced enough, the frustrated employee checked off the boxes, and gave the go-ahead to forwarding the money into an off-shores account.
Filled with relief, Carl Prichard's unfaithful wife and boyfriend left the lottery office, each $10 million wealthier as they blocked David's phone number and drove far, far away. |
Edit: for everyone saying "taxes on the winnings and medical bills for the coma"....I'm Canadian. I never thought of such atrocities. | [WP] You finally won the lottery. $20 million. You go to sleep that night a rich and happy person. You wake up to a nurse, explaining you've just awoken from a coma. | One million Bitcoin... One million Bitcoin... It couldn't be possible. Nobody had that many Bitcoin... except... it couldn't be. By some astronomical-age-of-the-universe-to-calculate-the-key-of-it-chance, the wallet that I just generated was a collision with an existing wallet... THE wallet. My hands trembled as I held the mnemonic seed that I had just transcribed during the setup process. The wallet balance hadn't been on the screen until I clicked "Next".
I couldn't even comprehend how rich I was. Afraid to click anything on my screen lest it disappear into the digital ether, I stared dumbly at my monitor, the insipid taste immediately evident in my suddenly dry mouth that was open to the air dumbly like the rear door of a bomber.
My mind racing... there had to be some error with the wallet. There's no way that this is real, but there was only one way to be sure. The cursor crept across the screen, my palpitations nearly audible through my chest. The keyboard rattled under my fingers as I typed the amount 350 BTC (one million dollars!). My chest heaved and the air came out of me in a huge sigh... I think I'm going to be sick... the deed was done; I only had to wait for confirmations. I stared blankly at the screen for 15seconds before I started to feel the headache forming in the front of my head. There's no way I was going to stay up being crazy when I could just check it in the morning. Given that the Segwit idiots were still blocking Bitcoin Unlimited it could be anywhere from 10 minutes to 10 hours.
I popped a couple melatonin and stretched out in my bed. If this was a crazy dream, I wanted out right now. I'll wake up in the morning and everything will make sense again.
--------
--------
"$200,000 transaction fee in the mempool up for grabs!"
"We need UASF now! Transaction fees out of control! $200,000 fee is proof."
"Satoshi Lives! Satoshi coins move for the first time in 8 years."
"Twitter: Satoshi transaction confirmed... What happens now?"
"CoinMarketCap: Satoshi is back and what it means for the future of Bitcoin."
--------
"Wake up. You're safe now."
The face above me looked kind enough, even if she was just a blurry smudge.
"Huh, what's happened...?"
I looked around at the clean white walls of a hospital room. It didn't look like an emergency room. How long was I here?
"They found you just in time... The police said something about hackers finding you and trying to hurt you. I have no idea what they could possibly have wanted so bad that they'd try to kill you like this."
The nurse shrugged and smiled. I felt a sick pit in my stomach. I couldn't bring myself to say anything. She continued despite my lack of input.
"The doctor will be in to see you in a little bit. You've been out for weeks. When they brought you in we didn't think you were going to make it, but you're recovering nicely. I brought in your personal effects and I took the liberty to charge your cell phone so you can call your family."
I frantically pulled up my Coinbase wallet on my phone. I knew that the rest of the million were probably gone, stolen from me like every other good thing that's happened to me, but I still had the 350 BTC. I'm a millionaire. I sighed relief as the wallet opened and I saw the number 350.46574301 BTC.
Wait.
What.
The squiggly line in the chart looked like a crooked sine wave diminishing down to the bottom edge of the graph.
350.46574301 BTC ($3.51). | "You're pulling my leg, Janet. There's no way that can be true. I've been a healthy man all my life! What on earth happened?"
"I'm sorry, Mr. ...uh, Maxwell Davidson, but I don't know who this Janet is. I'm your nurse, you can call me Rachel; at least that's what at the folks here at the hospital call me."
"Janet is my wife, I thought she was playing a trick on me; you do look a lot like her, I suppose. Does she know about all this? Most importantly, what on earth happened‽"
"Mr. Davidson, my expertise is not in assessing people's mental states after an accident, but it certainly seems as though you've forgotten, and made up, and awful lot. As far as we know, you've never had a wife. You were in a terrible car accident, and although your body has made a good recovery, you sustained more damage to your head than many others I've seen."
"I'm almost certain my name is Carl Prichard. I certainly don't feel any different. Can't you people just let me out? I'm fine, and I have some important business to complete."
Instinctively checking his pockets for the winning lottery ticket, Carl found nothing. In fact, any form of identification was absent from his body. Seeing his confusion, Rachel spoke up:
"Maxwell, we've changed your clothes a few times over your weeks at the hospital. We have your wallet for when you're ready to go. Other than your jarred memories, you seem fine, so the doctor should be able to discharge within the next day."
As if on a cue, Doctor David Granger entered the room to explain the specifics of the accident with his patient for the next few minutes. While Carl's confidence in his memories was slowly whittled away with each of Granger's statements, Rachel left the room, telling the doctor she was going upstairs prepare the next meal.
In the kitchen, a man was looking over the $20 million lottery ticket in Carl Prichard's name. When he heard her steps coming up the stairs, he asked her about the operation's progress.
"Well, I think we're doing a good job at changing his memories for the time being." Rachel replied. "He looked around in his pockets, and I think he might know something is wrong judging by the fact he doesn't have major bodily injuries. If we do this all quickly, we'll be able to get away with it."
The two walked to their van with Carl's ID and winning lottery ticket as Rachel plugged the lottery's headquarters address into her phone.
"It say's we can be there in two hours. Silly thing had to be put at the state capital... why not make it in the biggest city? As long as David can keep him in our mock-up hospital room until noon, we should be able to claim the cash without any issues."
---
Mired in confusion, Carl was now demanding to see his ID.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Davidson, we have to run some routine tests before we can leave you. For one thing, I have to know that you're mentally well, and this outrage is not helping you in that manner. Please be calm, and I may even be able to clear you by the afternoon. I can understand this is difficult to cope with, but all those memories were just made up in these last few weeks."
Stalling for time, Granger said he had to check up on some other patients and would be back in about fifteen minutes.
He locked the door behind him before returning upstairs to call Rachel.
---
By the end of the phone call, the three were content with their progress, and with each passing minute, Rachel and the man were drawing nearer to the lottery office. Throughout the morning, Granger continued to "check up" on Carl and "run some tests," buying himself the couple hours before the heist of sorts was complete.
When Rachel pulled into the parking lot of the Big Bucks Lottery HQ, the man put on his hat, took Carl's ID and already-signed lottery ticket, and went in to claim the money.
Rachel watched the minutes pass on the van's clock as she waited for her accomplice to return. She turned on the radio to distract her, imagining the words being spoken: "Yes, my name is Carl Prichard." "Yes, I would like the instant money; yeah, I'm not patient enough for the annuity." "Here's the bank account I would like the money in."
A hundred miles away, the real Carl Prichard was ready to blow a gasket. Not ready to succumb to the lies he was being told, the man busted down the room's door, revealing a residential home's hallway. At the sound of mayhem, Granger immediately ran out the door and sped away in his car.
Rachel's phone was now ringing. "Hey, is he still okay," she immediately asked.
"No, he busted down the door, and right about now, he'll be finding out he was in an empty foreclosed home for the last 24 hours. Surely his head has stopped hurting from what we did last night, and he'll probably be calling his wife with the next phone he can get his hands on."
The one they called Rachel hung up; she was now sweating profusely. Why wouldn't he come out? Were the lottery people suspicious of him? The doors opened. An employee walked out, looking for a "white van." He approached Rachel's door and asked if she could come in as a family member and witness.
She was led to a small room, and asked if she could testify that the man before her was Carl Prichard. Forcing excitement, she got out an unconvincing "yes." Convinced enough, the frustrated employee checked off the boxes, and gave the go-ahead to forwarding the money into an off-shores account.
Filled with relief, Carl Prichard's unfaithful wife and boyfriend left the lottery office, each $10 million wealthier as they blocked David's phone number and drove far, far away. |
Edit: for everyone saying "taxes on the winnings and medical bills for the coma"....I'm Canadian. I never thought of such atrocities. | [WP] You finally won the lottery. $20 million. You go to sleep that night a rich and happy person. You wake up to a nurse, explaining you've just awoken from a coma. | [Part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/6fl9id/wp_you_finally_won_the_lottery_20_million_you_go/dijc56z/) | [Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/6fl9id/wp_you_finally_won_the_lottery_20_million_you_go/dijicpr/)
I awoke to the gentle beeping of my alarm clock. Wait, that wasn't right. My alarm clock sounded like R2-D2. The sunlight streaming in through the window was like a thousand daggers in my eyes. Squinting as I looked around, I saw that the beeping was coming from a sleek white machine by my bed. As my eyes adjusted, I saw that the sterile beige room I was in was several dozens of stories up. A car zipped by the window, and a moment later a police car sped by, lights blaring. It took my mind a moment to reconcile this, and I was still processing it as the door slid smoothly open, hissing slightly. A tall, sleek white cube, like a larger version of the one by my bed, floated silently into the room.
"Oh. You're up. Weird," the cube said in a bored, cool voice. I tried to sit up, but my legs and arms weren't working. "Your muscles have atrophied. Please wait." The cube floated over to me, a small glowing needle extending from its body. Unable to move, I sat helplessly as it plunged the needle into me. Seconds later, warmth flooded through my body like a hot drink on a cold day, and I hesitantly stepped out of bed.
"Alright, I guess first things first," I said to the cube, putting a hand on it to steady myself. "Let's start with...who are you, what's the date, where am I, and how did I get here?." The cube was now scanning me with a variety of instruments.
"I'm an automatic neurological nurse android. Call me Anna. It's July 3, 2137. You're in a Union Research Hospital. You suffered a partial aneurysm a hundred and twenty years ago and went into a coma. A hundred and ten years ago you were put in stasis by Union researchers. Three months ago they fixed your brain." The cube rattled this off without a hint of interest.
A hundred and twenty years. The last thing I remembered was going to bed. I had been...happy. Really happy. But about what? I slowly walked over to the window and looked out. A lot of stuff still looked sort of similar, but humanity had obviously come a long way. Looking down, I could see hundreds of vehicles at varying heights, all moving at breakneck speeds but apparently avoiding each other perfectly.
"You have a guest," said the nurse. I turned around to see a professional-looking young man standing in the door. He smiled. "Good afternoon, sir. My name's Marty. I'm a junior account manager with Union Multifinancial. Do you have a few moments?" I nodded silently, dazed. I was still processing everything else, but this guy was probably just trying to do his job.
The young man pushed a button on his wrist, and a screen appeared in front of him. "Mr...Smith? Derek Smith? Born 1982?" I nodded again. He stood and walked over to me, extending his wrist. "Put your finger on the screen, please." I did, and the screen turned green. He grabbed the floating screen out of midair and turned it so I could read it.
"Now, I'm required to mention that your previous investment firm was absorbed by Union Financial in 2072. This was a legal change only and caused no deviation in your-"
"Wait, my investment firm?" I interrupted.
"Yes, you invested 19.5 million in lottery winnings. As you can see, a few of your stocks did very well. Your net worth is now 102.6 billion dollars."
The machine at my bedsides started beeping loudly and rapidly as I felt my heart do a conga in my chest. I sank back onto my bed. This was getting to be too much, and the last thing I wanted to hear was the cool voice of the nurse saying, "You have another visitor."
-----------------------------------------
To be continued?
| "You're pulling my leg, Janet. There's no way that can be true. I've been a healthy man all my life! What on earth happened?"
"I'm sorry, Mr. ...uh, Maxwell Davidson, but I don't know who this Janet is. I'm your nurse, you can call me Rachel; at least that's what at the folks here at the hospital call me."
"Janet is my wife, I thought she was playing a trick on me; you do look a lot like her, I suppose. Does she know about all this? Most importantly, what on earth happened‽"
"Mr. Davidson, my expertise is not in assessing people's mental states after an accident, but it certainly seems as though you've forgotten, and made up, and awful lot. As far as we know, you've never had a wife. You were in a terrible car accident, and although your body has made a good recovery, you sustained more damage to your head than many others I've seen."
"I'm almost certain my name is Carl Prichard. I certainly don't feel any different. Can't you people just let me out? I'm fine, and I have some important business to complete."
Instinctively checking his pockets for the winning lottery ticket, Carl found nothing. In fact, any form of identification was absent from his body. Seeing his confusion, Rachel spoke up:
"Maxwell, we've changed your clothes a few times over your weeks at the hospital. We have your wallet for when you're ready to go. Other than your jarred memories, you seem fine, so the doctor should be able to discharge within the next day."
As if on a cue, Doctor David Granger entered the room to explain the specifics of the accident with his patient for the next few minutes. While Carl's confidence in his memories was slowly whittled away with each of Granger's statements, Rachel left the room, telling the doctor she was going upstairs prepare the next meal.
In the kitchen, a man was looking over the $20 million lottery ticket in Carl Prichard's name. When he heard her steps coming up the stairs, he asked her about the operation's progress.
"Well, I think we're doing a good job at changing his memories for the time being." Rachel replied. "He looked around in his pockets, and I think he might know something is wrong judging by the fact he doesn't have major bodily injuries. If we do this all quickly, we'll be able to get away with it."
The two walked to their van with Carl's ID and winning lottery ticket as Rachel plugged the lottery's headquarters address into her phone.
"It say's we can be there in two hours. Silly thing had to be put at the state capital... why not make it in the biggest city? As long as David can keep him in our mock-up hospital room until noon, we should be able to claim the cash without any issues."
---
Mired in confusion, Carl was now demanding to see his ID.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Davidson, we have to run some routine tests before we can leave you. For one thing, I have to know that you're mentally well, and this outrage is not helping you in that manner. Please be calm, and I may even be able to clear you by the afternoon. I can understand this is difficult to cope with, but all those memories were just made up in these last few weeks."
Stalling for time, Granger said he had to check up on some other patients and would be back in about fifteen minutes.
He locked the door behind him before returning upstairs to call Rachel.
---
By the end of the phone call, the three were content with their progress, and with each passing minute, Rachel and the man were drawing nearer to the lottery office. Throughout the morning, Granger continued to "check up" on Carl and "run some tests," buying himself the couple hours before the heist of sorts was complete.
When Rachel pulled into the parking lot of the Big Bucks Lottery HQ, the man put on his hat, took Carl's ID and already-signed lottery ticket, and went in to claim the money.
Rachel watched the minutes pass on the van's clock as she waited for her accomplice to return. She turned on the radio to distract her, imagining the words being spoken: "Yes, my name is Carl Prichard." "Yes, I would like the instant money; yeah, I'm not patient enough for the annuity." "Here's the bank account I would like the money in."
A hundred miles away, the real Carl Prichard was ready to blow a gasket. Not ready to succumb to the lies he was being told, the man busted down the room's door, revealing a residential home's hallway. At the sound of mayhem, Granger immediately ran out the door and sped away in his car.
Rachel's phone was now ringing. "Hey, is he still okay," she immediately asked.
"No, he busted down the door, and right about now, he'll be finding out he was in an empty foreclosed home for the last 24 hours. Surely his head has stopped hurting from what we did last night, and he'll probably be calling his wife with the next phone he can get his hands on."
The one they called Rachel hung up; she was now sweating profusely. Why wouldn't he come out? Were the lottery people suspicious of him? The doors opened. An employee walked out, looking for a "white van." He approached Rachel's door and asked if she could come in as a family member and witness.
She was led to a small room, and asked if she could testify that the man before her was Carl Prichard. Forcing excitement, she got out an unconvincing "yes." Convinced enough, the frustrated employee checked off the boxes, and gave the go-ahead to forwarding the money into an off-shores account.
Filled with relief, Carl Prichard's unfaithful wife and boyfriend left the lottery office, each $10 million wealthier as they blocked David's phone number and drove far, far away. |
Edit: for everyone saying "taxes on the winnings and medical bills for the coma"....I'm Canadian. I never thought of such atrocities. | [WP] You finally won the lottery. $20 million. You go to sleep that night a rich and happy person. You wake up to a nurse, explaining you've just awoken from a coma. | I awake, my vision a white blur; I gasp for breath, lunging upright. An alarm is ringing somewhere far away.
I hear a voice. A woman's.
The haze begins to lessen a little and I see I'm in a white room, with a single window and not much else. I see *her*. She's walking towards me.
"Welcome back," she says, gently pushing me back down onto the bed. "I wasn't sure I'd ever get to speak to you." Her soft smile is reassuring.
"Where - *where am?*" I'm hyperventilating.
"Breathe, now," she says. "Like this." She puts her hands in front of her stomach, moving them away as she takes a deep breath. "Hold it for five seconds. Then, exhale for five."
I try to copy, and eventually, my heart begins to pump a little less furiously.
"That's right, just relax. Very good."
"Please, where am I?" I beg.
The lady is dressed in blue and white. "Saint Bartholomew's hospital," she answers.
"*Hospital?* I repeat, stupidly.
She nods. "You've been in a coma, for quite some time."
"What? *How long?*"
"Three years."
"No... that's not right," I protest, but my head is a thick fog. I can't think clearly.
"You were in a car accident."
"I don't remember... no - *wait.*" A few vague memories shake themselves free, like icicles falling from a cave roof. I was rich - I'd never had money before, but now I had more than I could ever have dreamed of. I was finally enjoying life. *But how did I get so much money?*
"I won the lottery," I say, as much to myself as to the nurse.
She bites her lip. "I'm glad you were having nice dreams, but..."
"No. It wasn't a dream. I *did* win it."
"I'm sorry, Mr Brown."
"Brown? My name's Manning. *Oliver Manning*."
The nurse turns away, as if looking for someone. When she looks back at me, there's an awkward smile on her face. "I know it's hard to believe - it's often like this when you've been in a long coma, but you're *Richard Brown.*
"That can't be right..."
"The doctor said you might forget some aspects of your identity. They'll return, soon." She lays a drivers license down on the bed.
"That's my face, but that's... not my name."
The nurse sighs. "Think you can use a laptop?"
I nod. "Yes. I think so."
She leaves me, returning shortly with a small computer under an arm.
"Can you sit up?" she asks. I can. She places the laptop gently onto my legs.
"You can search for the incident. Just type "Richard Brown car crash Minnesota, 2017. I'll leave you for a while."
I open Google as she walks out of the room. Then, I change my mind, and open up my bank's website. I *did* win - I know I did. I just need to see proof.
I type in my user ID and security details, and let out a long sigh of relief when the next screen loads. Oliver Manning: $17.6 million dollars.
The nurse returns to the room holding something small in her left hand.
"Did you find out everything you needed?" she asks, as she approaches me.
"Yes. I *did* win, thank God," I say, closing my eyes and smiling broadly. "I thought I was going insane."
"Yes, you did," she replies, as she pushes a syringe into my neck. "I knew you'd check your bank. You're a *very* greedy man."
"What are you-"
"You won all those millions, then you bought yourself a fast sports car - an Italian thing. You drove it recklessly. You drank. Then, you hit my husband. You were always going to hit somebody, but why him?"
My stomach fills with a new dread - a real dread. A certainty.
"You kept on driving, leaving him on the side of the road in a quickly growing pool of his own blood. You might have saved him, had you stopped and called for help. *I know you did it* - everyone knows - but your fancy lawyers got you off. He left me and our three children all alone. They have no father now, just a working nurse, to support them."
"I'm... *so sorry*."
"Took me some time get the opportunity to do this. To set this room up as nicely as I have - although I've always been one for minimalism."
"I'm sorry," I mumble, my tongue heavy. "Truly"
"You took everything from me. Now I'm going to take *everything* from you."
I begin to feel dizzy and my mouth is so, so dry.
"Did he give you the money yet, mommy?" asks a high pitched voice. I see a small, hazy silhouette enter the room.
"Yes darling."
"Is he dead yet?"
"Shortly, sweetheart."
"Good."
---
Thanks for reading! Plenty more stories on my sub: /r/nickofnight
(free ascii rose for all new subs --------{---(@ )
| A tremendous headache like my brain trying to exit my head made me open my eyes. At first, I couldn't focus my sight, everything was distorted, soon I realized I had cables attached all over my body. Suddenly, a weird moving lump transformed into a nurse. "What is happening?" I tried to say out loud yet I could barely talk.
"Mr Johnson, do you remember your first name?" The nurse asked me as she watched a monitor with many numbers that I didn't understand.
"Where am I?" I tried to scream yet my voice once again was barely understandable. "Where am I?" I repeated, this time I managed to make it sound clearer, my head was killing me.
"Stay calm Mr Johnson, you were in a coma for a month. I know that you have many questions but I need you to answer some questions to check if your brain has any damage." She said as she looked straight into my awful bloody eyes with her beautiful, almost healing light-green eyes. "What's your first name?".
I looked into the depths of my brain yet I had an acutely hard time to remember it. "Robert, my name is Robert." I said after 20 seconds. "Did I win the lottery or it was just a dream?" I asked, desperately. My voice was normal now.
The nurse ignored my question and with grabbed a little lantern. "I will check your eyes now, stay relaxed." She said as her fingers stretched open my eyelids while her other hand flashed my eyes with the small instrument. "Your reflexes are fine, that's good news," a smile drew in her face. "Okay, I'll do a pressure check and I will call another doctor that will evaluate your cognition."
I nodded as she turned around looking for the tensiometer. I couldn't keep my eyes off her strawberry shock hair, it fell down all the way to her waist and it's curls waved in a romantic, enthralling motion.
"You're perfect, the doctor is on his way. I'm really glad you woke up" She said as she left the room.
Another doctor entered the room immediately, his height was comical, for a moment I thought it was Danny Devito.
"Mr. Johnson, glad to see you awake and well, my name is Dr. Teriz and I'm a neurologist. I'll ask you three questions."
I nodded with a smirk.
"What's the last thing you remember?" He asked as he took a pen and a paper from his front pocket.
"I'm not sure if it was a dream or not but I had won the lottery and I went to sleep."
He wrote something. "Okay, what's the name of your pet?"
"Yiru, is he fine?" I asked with anguish invading my chest.
"He's with your mother, he's perfect. Whats the result of 144/12?"
"12." I answered Immediately.
"Okay Mr Johnson, your brain miraculously seems to be in perfect conditions," he said, almost startled. "Feel free to ask me anything."
"Did I get fat?" I joked, his face transformed, he took a quick, deep breath and grabbed the pen and paper. "Relax, I'm joking. What happened?"
"Oh, I got scared for a second there. You did win the lottery but that night five burglars broke into your house. One had a bat the others were armed, the one with the bat hit you twice with full force in the head while you were sleeping. It's a miracle that you are alive and it's even more astonishing that you don't have any aftermath."
I frowned. "But, the money was in the bank, not in my house."
"Exactly, the other four guys killed the one that hit you, the police believe they wanted to take you to the bank and force you to transfer the money but your attacker went straight to hit you, he didn't even search the house. Seemed personal, an extremely rare failed crime."
I won't lie, a smile stretched my wrinkles all the way to the sides of my ears. I was alive and still a millionaire. "Can I make you one last question and ask you for a favour?"
"Yes, anything Mr Johnson."
"Is the nurse single?"
"Jade? Yes she is." We both laughed in camaraderie.
"Could you please mak-"
"Don't even finish that sentence, I'll make sure that she checks on you as much as she can. The rest is up to you."
We both smiled again. My new life awaited.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you enjoyed it please consider checking /r/chasisoxidado for more! |
[WP] The man laughed. "God left this place long ago" | A man kneels alone in St. Vincent's cathedral, with his hands held together as he looks up at the painted glass before him. He starts reciting a common prayer, starting with "Our Father..."
As he prays his mind starts wandering off, and one of his thoughts moves from his mind to his voice.
"It would be great to see you..."
"God left this place long ago."
The voice came from a young man, sitting on top of the tabernacle, looking down upon him.
"Well technically it's actually pretty recent but 125 years could be considered a long time."
The man stands up, "Hey! That tabernacle you're sitting on is sacred!"
"Oh yes I know a lot about it..."
The young man steps down from the tabernacle and puts his right arm beside it, smiling, showing a hint of playfulness.
"This one of many tabernacles is an integral part of the Catholic religion, one of the many sects of Christianity, founded by the disciples of a man named Jesus, who is deemed to be Christ. From his revelation from God he was able to gain a lot of influence, gaining 12 disciples as well as a lot of attention in the land of modern-day Israel. He said a lot of things, some of which I'd find questionable as well as led the foundation of the church, which with its history I also find questionable. At the end of the day, though, by the time of his death, God was already looking towards other places."
"What do you mean?"
"God has made many revelations to many people, from Zarathustra to Abraham to Jesus to Muhammad to Martin Luther to Spinoza. Most of them ended up rather disappointing, and with how things went post-revelation it didn't go the way he wanted it to go."
"And then?"
"Later on as he's observing humanity he realized that as time went on humanity has been able to naturally take the road he wanted them to go, without any need for revelation. In fact, revelations make people more dogmatic and thus are counterproductive. This he concluded that he'll just take a backseat and metaphorically leave Earth."
"So he just left us here? All alone?"
"Don't worry. He had Nietzsche warn you guys about his departure. Ever heard of that 'God is dead' stuff? Nietzsche did end up doing some good work but had sort of a bad history due to some people messing up. The people ended up taking it metaphorically and just went back to their daily lives, either going back to their temples and pray, or not."
"Wait... how do you know all of this stuff? And how did you get here? What are you?"
The young man smiles and walks towards him.
"I'm God's companion. I just sit next to God as he does his magic and sometimes he tells me what to do from time to time."
"So you're like an angel?"
"Angels have a sort of purist connotation, and I'm no purist. I'm not human either, since I have the power to break the laws of physics and all that stuff."
"Then... what are you?" The man asks again.
"I'm Yiho Wiho. I know that name sounds stupid which is why I shortened it to YHWH."
"Wait... that was you?"
"Yeah... God has a way too complicated name and he figured that using mine would be much easier."
"Well, what is it?"
Yohi Wiho clears his throats as he proceeds to pronounce his name.
"Qiwxodihitgizqagjigkopikhothe."
Silence enters the room, as Yohi Wiho attempts to comprehend what just happened.
"I mean no offense when I say this, but I can't pronounce that."
"No offense taken. If he wanted everyone to pronounce his name, he'd have gotten everyone to do it already."
"So... what now?"
Another second of silence before the young man asks, "Want to hang out?" | The father cradled his newborn girl’s putty skull in his splayed fingertips. Blood still dripped down his forehead from where he smacked his head against the steering wheel. The world wobbled with a glance in any direction, echoes of the concussion threatening to topple him before the Axis of perception rights itself.
John had lost Carol only a week ago from complications. He had been thinking of her when he veered across the double yellow lines. The thought of joining her in the beyond was more comforting than the screaming reminder of their love strapped to an ejection seat in the back of the SUV they had purchased rather than leased. He knew God had his reasons, though.
The man exchanged information with the undamaged van and left his car with its crumpled front end in the parking lot of a nearby church.
The heavy wooden door to the church was engraved with all manner of Angel, Saint, and Devout engaged in the caricature for which they were remembered. St. Patrick strangled snakes. St. Stephen grimaced as he was thunked in the head with a rock. St. Anthony combed the beach with a Metal Detector for a lost necklace.
The door opened to empty rows of wooden pews. The permanent dark and solemn ambiance calmed the frightened father. The flicker of candles lit for remembrance and the few emergency lights were all that guided him up the center aisle to the priest walking to meet him in the center of the empty church.
John was in tears by the time he reached the holy man.
“What brings you here?” the old priest asked. Eyes drifted up to the dried blood crusted in lines on the man’s forehead wrinkled with worry.
“He took my wife…” John nearly whispered. “I just want to talk to God…I need to know why…”
The man laughed. "God left this place long ago."
The father dropped to a pew, body collapsing, arms ever vigilant in protecting the rising and falling breath of the precious life in his grasp. He looked down at his daughter because he could no longer look up to the priest…his only rock, religion, now sand.
The priest placed his hand on the broken man’s shoulder, realizing the despair he had caused. “God’s across town at the Casino. More people pray to him there.” | |
[WP] You never wanted to be a deep space miner, but being the captain of your own ship has its perks. Humanity is believed to be alone in the universe. One day you stumble upon the debris of a massive space battle that happened long, long ago. The ships are clearly not of human origin... | I inserted a small vial containing a cocktail of various opiates into the injection band fit snug against the back of my neck. A faint calmness and euphoria washed over me. The new colonial government of Webb32D followed closely the recommendations of it's science committee. A drugged population is an obedient and efficient one.
For a moment I lost myself until the cocktails of other drugs kicked in, keeping me sharp and alert. Today's cocktail had a slight disproportionate amount of MDMA in celebration of my 532nd birthday. Only 100 of them spent in cryo, I usually bragged.
Soft glows of monitors lining the bridge blinked as crew drifted in front of them. Typically crew on the bridge worked relatively silently. They're all here for the paycheck. The crew of all Archimedes class mining vessels enjoy a 3 month off season while crater damage peppering the hull from meteors that managed to make it through the shielding are scrubbed and filled. Today was different.
The gas giant in this system, Webb32A, had the ring of a long dead moon that was extraordinarily rich in platinum. The reason why was not obvious... until now.
"What the hell am I looking at?" I said to the crew. An entire wall of the bridge was a dedicated viewing screen. On that screen a hundred million vessels larger than our own drifted lifelessly, occasionally bouncing off one another.
"The ring on 32A sir, is not natural in origin." said our vessel's chief scientist while slowly drifting downward through the door between the telemetry room and the bridge. He claims he is my great great great great great grandpa, but in all honesty I've never cared much about family.
"Not natural in origin? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"It is not a broken up moon, like all other rings in other systems. The ring is made entirely of destroyed spacecraft. Dating shows that this scale of destruction happened over a 3-day time span."
The crew was totally silent. We've all played the science role at one point in our lives. When you live this long, you tend to get bored and need to try everything. We all understood without words that this single battle entailed a scale of destruction a million times larger than the entire output of the entire 50,000 years of the human spacefaring production.
Silence rang through the air for minutes. Everyone aboard stared in fascination. Some of the crew even teared up slightly. Humans, not alone? We've spread out 1000 lightyears from our home world and have not seen even the faintest sign of any other multicellular life. It's as if all the evidence for thousands of years of exploration was piled into one single spot.
"How long ago did this battle happen?" I asked.
"Somewhere between 1,000,000 and 1,100,000 years. We believe we are currently looking at the remains of an extinction event."
"An extinction event? For a race that has created this much? How the hell are we the first to detect this? How could this possibly happen?"
"We're the first to get this close. We knew something was unusual about the rings due to the incredible metal content of the ring. As you know that was one of the primary reasons the colony ship decided upon colonizing Webb32D. It appears the dead spacecraft were very specifically defending this gas giant. A closer analysis of the interior shows solid, non-natural structures about the size of Earth's moon. Furthermore our gravity wave interferometers show an incredible amount of activity from within these structures. We believe this species was capable of manipulating gravity itself."
The crew looked to me for the next step. They've all been captains of similar ships before. Because of this, the lost feeling in all their eyes was absolutely terrifying. Like I knew any better.
"Sir, we also detected a new activity shortly after our arrival. We believe that our presence is now known to something down there."
| I hadn't seen life in quite a while.
Deep space mining was a job I had honestly never hoped for. It was the job of those who couldn't afford to do anything else- I never thought I would've ended up in that position, but it was a little comforting, floating around in space, being able to see it's vastness undisturbed by the flaws of man. It was honestly *beautiful*. I still spent most of my time in chatrooms while the rig ran, though, chatting with some friends on faraway planets. Chatting was obviously a little slow- light could only go so fast- but it was still good to know I wasn't alone.
I was flying towards an asteroid belt to gather some resources- I had made the assumption that there was gold there, and I was out to harvest it. I looked at my monitor, chat room up. They were talking about some sort of party.
*Shame I can't go,* I typed. *Can't wait to see you guys sometime in the future.*
I'm sure it wouldn't mean anything to them, though. I continued to fly, feeling more alone then ever- the asteroids felt intimidating, and the sheer size of space didn't help, either. I had finally approached the asteroid and had set up the rig. I leaned back in my chair, looking up through the windows of my ship. Everything seemed normal; just the asteroids, floating around as they always did...
"What the hell is that?" I muttered. I had spotted something, in the distance- it looked like some sort of destroyed mass of metal. I turned to my second monitor and grabbed the mouse, sorting through files. Where was the map when I needed it?
I finally loaded up the map and scanned my eyes over it. I was right- the map showed that there had been no other humans in this sector. My eyes looked back to the window- there was *clearly* something there, I just couldn't quite tell what it was. I grabbed the controls to the ship again, shifting it in the right direction and slowly rolling towards it. It was clearly something metal. My hands shook slightly- I was only a little nervous, which was justified. Nothing was suppose to be out here. *Nobody* was suppose to be out here.
I was now right next to whatever it was- a massive metallic ship, of some sort I had never seen before- it was massive, larger than even the military cruisers I had seen. It was falling apart, most definitely, but I still didn't know who it belong to- nobody had ever built a ship this large. The parts were high end, like nothing I had ever seen. Parts that were only theorized recently- massive engines, diamond connections, I didn't even know those existed yet. Whoever had built these, they must have been rich.
I only had one thought. I turned back to my chatroom;
*I might be able to come home early this month.* | |
[WP] You never wanted to be a deep space miner, but being the captain of your own ship has its perks. Humanity is believed to be alone in the universe. One day you stumble upon the debris of a massive space battle that happened long, long ago. The ships are clearly not of human origin... | Headed back out again. This must be the 6th trip I've made in 48 hours, but I'm so close to upgrading this clunky thing to something with real firepower. Gramps and his father both joined the Federal Auxiliary Corps and traveled the stars all across the human bubble - they both must've totaled tens of thousands of lightyears during their services. Peacekeeping, active combat, system patrols, or guarding VIPs, a life of excitement surely. We haven't heard from Gramps in a while, but last comm we got from him said he was going on long range patrol about twelve years ago.
Dad decided that wasn't the life for him, bought himself a ZP Adder and fit it out to go drill rocks. Hired a crewman, Baro, to control the limpets that pick up the rocks and took me on as the other needed to make sure the refinery doesn't explode. Make sure it doesn't overflow, eject low concentrations of less-profitable minerals, and keep watch for high levels of uranium that could come in with the other stuff. It was the most mind numbing task that I took on for four years until he was accosted and killed by thugs during a particularly valuable platinum run, leaving me with his ship and Baro, who I then found out was a wage-paid Imperial Slave who still had about 5 years left on his contract with Dad.
Now Dad wasn't a bad guy by any measure, but he wasn't exactly ambitious either. He had enough credits saved up to get a new ship, a brand new FD Cobra Mk III in fact - an upgrade in so many ways from the cramped little Adder that I wondered why he even kept that space-van - with enough left over that I could take some basic flight training classes and keep me and Baro housed and fed for a few more months before even making any mining runs. So I did just that: Took my lessons over a few weeks, told Baro we were taking a much needed month-long rest in the meantime, and got him familiarized with the new Cobra controls during the break. I soon realized the Cobra had another huge benefit over the Adder: Its refinery didn't require a crew member to manage, since it could be done from the helm's chair. Considering I could do that job in my sleep I elected to save the rest of the now-dwindling funds and did not hire an extra crew member.
I didn't tell Baro the real reason for the upgrade at first: I wanted to become a bounty hunter. Those guys make big bucks chasing down thugs and pirates in their ships and either cash in their victories via their confirmed ship ID kills or tow the salvage and sell that instead. The Cobra is a ship that can do a lot of things, and I figured I could discreetly fit it out as a miner while getting in some practice (against rocks, admittedly) with my aim and controls. After all, sometimes you *do* need to defend yourself and while the Cobra was fast, faster than most models out there, I wanted more. Dad generally kept us in the safer parts of space: lower profit, but lots of security. That platinum run wasn't normally where we went, and he paid for it when we went without checking out the system first. I figure if I can make some more money mining first, improve my combat skills, and fit out some real weapons and maybe, just maybe buy that new CD Vulture model I can journey to the riskier parts of space bringing justice to the unlawful.
That was yet another four years ago. Baro came around to my idea after a year. He only has a year left with me, but I've agreed to hire him as a full-fledged Imperial Citizen once his contract is up. My aim's gotten better. Baro's just about gotten used to the sounds of laser fire against our shields and sometimes our hull. But we're still out here mining, because we're still not ready to take on the big fish. But we're close, oh so close to that Vulture.
I think it's time for a change of scenery. We'll go to a neighboring system for a few runs, it still has some decent palladium reserves and there's a chance we could claim a kill voucher if some foolhardy thief thinks he can pull a quick steal off of us. I exit the station after the go-ahead from FFC, line up our jump and wait for the frameshift drive to charge. As we engage I watch as the familiar background warps around us and we enter our hyperspace tunnel to the next system over. We've done this hundreds of times now. But this time, something felt off, and while I'd never really been scared of the pirate attacks the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I wrestled with this feeling: This was witchspace. Nothing could get us here. The only tech that messes with this place is our FSDs, and that's just to get through it. The ship computer's voice broke my from my reverie.
"Warning: Hyperspace Conduit Unstable."
I only had a split second to process that message before the ship was thrown off its course. What the hell?! This was witchspace! There's only one direction: *Straight!*
We tumbled about for a few seconds before we were ripped away from witchspace and thrown back into normal space. I instinctively deploy our weapons, not worrying about what just did the impossible. Our screens flicker and cut out, and I finally take in the sight before us as my ship tells me "Unknown system malfunction."
This is a Federal fleet. There are Condors, Eagles, Vultures, Federal Dropships and Assault ships, a couple of Navy Corvettes, and the fearsome capital-class Farragut that lead this unit. Everything is eerily still, and wholly intact, but the only light is coming from the background stars. I turn to Baro, who has his eyes closed on the verge of panic. I try to talk to him but even our Remlock helmet communications are cut out. I glance back over to the fleet in front of us when I hear it: A short, intermittent trill. And what followed the trill I will never forget.
A massive brown and green *flower* drifts past us. Three sections of eight petals, inlaid with pearlescent grooves on the petals, with four red trails from the middle section appearing to propel it. And as it drifts past, it turns and... Faces? us. I'm not sure where its face is, but whatever side is lookingat us now has some sort of lens in the center. It turns and almost seems to growl, or groan. I watch as its petals start to spread apart, and a green light starts to form from the lens... and shoots out toward our ship. This ghostly, haunting light accompanied by a perfectly haunting sound envelops us for what seems like an eternity, and suddenly stops. No discharge, no warning, just stops. It makes a lighter groan and flies - No, it moves almost like it's swimming - past us. As it goes by it knocks our ship into a slight spin, and our screens flicker back on.
"System reboot sequence initiated."
I have controls again! I look over to Baro, who seems to have fainted from shock. My first though is to give chase, I want to know what this thing is. I have my ship target it to try to get some info:
>UNKNOWN
>--
>Unknown
>Unknown
>Lawless
>Unknown
Fat load of good that does us. It's travelling fast, but I think I'm faster. And I am! As I start catching it it starts spinning faster and faster... until it opens up a hole in space and darts in before it shuts, leaving us alone once again. I target the signature it leaves, but my ship's computer doesn't recognize it at all and simply labels it "Unknown Wake."
I pull up the galaxy map for where we are. We're not off course at all, far from it: We're actually only 1LY from our original system, with plenty of fuel to spare to jump to our intended destination. But exactly where we were wasn't technically in any system, and there's was no way we could return to it when we leave due to being no nav-beacon or star to jump to.
So I turn back to the fleet. And it's then I see it: Green streaks on all of the ships. Now I'm not saying these two things are related, but it's pretty suspicious that that *thing* shut my ship off and did some green stuff, and these ships are all completely disabled with more green stuff. I scan the wrecks for some of them, and it tells me the ship name and who their captain was. How can a whole contingent of the Federal fleet lay in practical ruins like this? The ships were completely intact, but pretty much all of their systems were fried. Even the 2km long Farragut lay entirely dormant, with no major hull damage aside from some of the green streaks on it.
After about an hour of going through the wreckage I found it. Or, rather, found him. Gramps' Vulture lay among the skeletal fleet. I wanted to do something, to try and board, to haul his ship back, to get some sort of closure on why this happened. How did a Federal fleet go missing without anyone being told? What was powerful enough to do this? What the hell was that *thing*? Why were we ripped away from our route to see this?
I checked our Cobra's systems. We were all green across the boar - Figuratively, not like the fleet before me. I lingered a bit, said a silent eulogy for Gramps, and with nothing else to do, plotted a course for our original destination. Baro had woken up by then, and I elected not to tell him what happened just in case he decided to block out what just happened anyway.
Perhaps I need a more radical change of scenery... We aren't the only things in the galaxy, and apparently haven't been for some time yet. I need to find an inkling, I can't have been the first to survive something like this. I need a direction, somewhere I can head toward to make sense of all this...
____
Story world is based on the Elite:Dangerous game universe, and this particular story is based on the alien encounter that you can view [here.](https://youtu.be/DGDoRUBav0o?t=24) | I hadn't seen life in quite a while.
Deep space mining was a job I had honestly never hoped for. It was the job of those who couldn't afford to do anything else- I never thought I would've ended up in that position, but it was a little comforting, floating around in space, being able to see it's vastness undisturbed by the flaws of man. It was honestly *beautiful*. I still spent most of my time in chatrooms while the rig ran, though, chatting with some friends on faraway planets. Chatting was obviously a little slow- light could only go so fast- but it was still good to know I wasn't alone.
I was flying towards an asteroid belt to gather some resources- I had made the assumption that there was gold there, and I was out to harvest it. I looked at my monitor, chat room up. They were talking about some sort of party.
*Shame I can't go,* I typed. *Can't wait to see you guys sometime in the future.*
I'm sure it wouldn't mean anything to them, though. I continued to fly, feeling more alone then ever- the asteroids felt intimidating, and the sheer size of space didn't help, either. I had finally approached the asteroid and had set up the rig. I leaned back in my chair, looking up through the windows of my ship. Everything seemed normal; just the asteroids, floating around as they always did...
"What the hell is that?" I muttered. I had spotted something, in the distance- it looked like some sort of destroyed mass of metal. I turned to my second monitor and grabbed the mouse, sorting through files. Where was the map when I needed it?
I finally loaded up the map and scanned my eyes over it. I was right- the map showed that there had been no other humans in this sector. My eyes looked back to the window- there was *clearly* something there, I just couldn't quite tell what it was. I grabbed the controls to the ship again, shifting it in the right direction and slowly rolling towards it. It was clearly something metal. My hands shook slightly- I was only a little nervous, which was justified. Nothing was suppose to be out here. *Nobody* was suppose to be out here.
I was now right next to whatever it was- a massive metallic ship, of some sort I had never seen before- it was massive, larger than even the military cruisers I had seen. It was falling apart, most definitely, but I still didn't know who it belong to- nobody had ever built a ship this large. The parts were high end, like nothing I had ever seen. Parts that were only theorized recently- massive engines, diamond connections, I didn't even know those existed yet. Whoever had built these, they must have been rich.
I only had one thought. I turned back to my chatroom;
*I might be able to come home early this month.* | |
*Universally protected as a result of being well liked. | [WP] You are the bartender for the bar in between dimensions, where good and evil alike go to have a drink. You are well liked by all, and universally protected. One day, some New Gods try and fuck with you. | ''Busy tonight, as usual'' I mumbled to no one in particular as my eyes swept across the array of tables and booths that make up my small, humble pub.
''When is it not? Who can resist the crisp ale, fine wine, ambience and of course. The enchanting landlady?'' my eyes went from what looked like a half-assed poker game taking place at the wonky corner table I really needed to fix to the grizzled, silver haired veteran sat in one of the few stools at the bar. I felt my lip quirk in an unwilling smile, Vywyn was a treasured regular. An old wizard who’d seen too many winters, too many battles and had a weathered, permanently scowling face that spoke of a man with a lifetime of experience in being too stubborn to die.
He wasn’t expecting a response, I allowed him a grin before returning my attention to the mug in my hand. I continued the repetitive drying motion, a round round of drinks had been served to all the tables and this was my moment to breath and take in the familiar atmosphere.
Running a dimensional in-between pub open to the good and the evil of all the known worlds sounds like I’m asking for trouble, but as long as I stuck to serving drinks, bringing food and offering shelter I’m fine.
The only rule, leave it at the door. Whatever personal problems or petty quarrels you have with one another outside my pub walls, stay outside my pub walls.
Surprisingly this has been working out well, and having the universal friendship and protection of some of the most powerful known beings was a bonus. Kick ass war stories and a guardian angel, what’s not to love?
It’s mainly the familiar faces tonight, not surprising. Given that people only find out about this place through word of mouth, I stack the last of the mugs. Pouring a tumbler of whiskey for a young elf approaching the bar, Etain her name is. She likes the single malt I keep at the end of the shelf, she’s the only one who really drinks it. A quick thank you and the exchange of the glass for a few coins and she’s back at her table.
The silver nearly slips from my hand as the sound of the front door opening and slamming into the wall with enough force to almost certainly crack the concrete startles me into an undignified jolt, I quickly drop the coins onto the back counter and turn to the source of the noise.
Two men, young men. Probably gods judging from their gentle glow and obvious presence, six foot tall at least, neatly cropped hair, the left one blond the right one brunette, and armor that was so obnoxiously grandiose it bordered on downright impractical. Yup, definitely gods.
They each had a sword on their left hip and fixed smirks as they approached the bar, I could feel my jaw clench before they set their eyes on me.
“Merlin’s arse” Vywyn muttered, his eyes following the young gods as they appraised their surroundings “they look like they’ve never set foot in a place like this in their lives”
I didn’t hear him, nor did I notice blondie lean on the bar, my eyes still focused on the still-open door and the definite crack in the damn wall. An infuriating clicking noise drew my attention back to blondie, I met his expectant face with a raised eyebrow, not even trying to hide my annoyance.
“The most expensive wine you have, bottle, two glasses. We’ll be over there’’ He gestured to the only free left in the building, not even waiting for my reply as he and brunette sauntered off out of my line of site. I hadn't even notice the pub had gone silent until I heard the gods' chatter, which was as obnoxious as their armor.
A sweep of the room showed that every other patron was staring at the two men. Clearly unimpressed with their entrance, which was now causing snow from outside to blow in through the still open door to ruin my nice wooden floor.
"Etain, love. Any chance you could close the door please?" I called out to the elf sprawled in one of the booths, she obliged. With only minimal complaining.
I grabbed my most expensive bottle, a nice fruity red with a somewhat dusty bottle. I loaded it onto a tray with two glasses and walked it to their table, to my relief the rest of the bar’s eyes left them and the general chatter was back to normal level.
"This is the nicest thing you have?’’ Blondie drawled, turning the bottle over in his gauntlet covered hands with distaste, oh gods above.
“Now now” Brunette seemingly chided his friend “I’m sure the nice landlady can more than make up for it in company”
Before I could reply Brunette snatched my free hand, yanking me to close to him and slipping an arm around my waist. He was strong, I could practically feel his bloody tendons through the chain mail. The tray clattered to the floor, once again. The pub went silent and all eyes were on us. I sighed, trying not to struggle whilst I met his smarmy grin.
“If you could take your hands off of me, that’d be grand” I said, almost smirking at the look of brief surprise on his face before it melted into anger.
“No need to be like that” He laughed, quickly recovering. He leveled his gaze, a look of easy superiority that I've seen a million times already gracing his baby face. I knew where this was going, soon enough he’d be asking me the million dollar question…
“Do you know who we are?” Boom, called it. I don't know who they are, young gods tend to think everyone knows who they are. It’s humbling watching them get humbled.
"Nope. But I can guess where your heading, costume ball? There's no way that impractically gauche armor serves any other purpose than aesthetic'' I easily replied "Unless its purposefully bulking you up, in which case I apologize for your need to over compensate, that's rather unfortunate. But don't worry, I'm sure you'll be the prettiest pair at the ball!" I said with false enthusiasm, this earned me a round of heavy laughter from the others.
Understandably, the young gods were less than impressed. They didn't have to say it, I got the picture when Brunette's arm left my waist and one of his spiky, dragon adorned (really?) gauntlets grabbed my neck, he stood. Taking me with him leaving me dangling a few inches off of the ground.
"You little bitch I'll..." there was no need to worry, before his other hand could even raise for what I can only assume was meant to be a back handed slap. The others jumped into action, one blink later I was back safely on the ground. Being guided back to the bar by Etain whilst the unfortunate gods behind felt the wrath of the magical patrons who would hate for anything to happen to the nice landlady.
They were no match for the stubborn old warriors who dealt with them, they've fought stronger beings for less. They were brutally, and rather spectacularly set upon before they could even draw their swords or summon any form of magic.
Once I was back behind the mahogany safety of my bar Vwywn had them both by the scruffs. Barely conscious and bleeding something awful, not even dignifying them with a witty parting phrase as he tossed them into the snow.
He stalked to the bar, his expression the softest I've ever seen it
"You alright? Sorry for the slow response. Should have thrown them out the second they dented your wall" he grumbled, I could only laugh. I fucking love these guys, I could be walking away with a lot worse than a slightly sore neck if it weren't for them.
"I'm good" I assured the old man, before turning to the rest of the equally concerned faces. I grabbed a few mugs and pitchers before raising my voice,
"Round of drinks, on the house!" | **"The Crack In The Wall"**
"Another Black Salt'n'Satan Juice, Barkeep", said the old wizard, leaning across the obsidian countertop.
"Coming right up, Asteroth!" I shouted back.
I snapped my fingers, and the air around me fizzed and crackled as the cocktail formed from nothing, before I grabbed it, and slid it across the bar with a stylish flick of the wrist, then returned to cleaning the shot glasses and tankards
You see, this bar is much like many others in the multiverse, and simultaneously, totally unique in it's own right. I call it *"The Crack In The Wall"*; not only because the doorway appears to be within a large cracked wall, but because it sits snugly in the space between dimensions. Also, that crack the door sits in... it has a habit of existing across several thousand of these dimensions *at once*.
As you can guess, we get all types in here. Normal humans, Lads on a night out, Gods looking to get laid, Androids looking for work, Magicians looking for a cold pint, and that is in *no way* representative of the exhaustive list.
The bar was brightly lit and adorned with relics and art from all over, and there were always people singing along to something, however, some of the singing turned to screams.
The old oak door had been blown off the hinges, sending shards of wood and plaster across the floor.
I looked up from glass-cleaning duty, veins twitching in my temples, and shielded my eyes from the dust and blinding light.
Three knights, in glowing armour of fire, lightning and mist, stepped over the shattered door. The Fiery One, singing the floor boards with every step. The Electric One, burning fractal patterns of light into retinas, and the Misty One, leaving pools of humidity in the air and water on the floor.
"**WHO MUST WE SLAUGHTER TO GET A DRINK?**" boomed one of them. Which one, however, is hard to say.
"Really?" I intoned back.
"Could you not have just simply *opened* the door like a normal being would?"
"**THE DOOR SHOULD HAVE BEEN OPENED FOR OUR ARRIVAL. IT WAS NOT, SO I OPENED IT.**"
I looked around. Everyone had the same disgruntled look- except for XT-65, he couldn't express facial features, being a mechanoid. These guys were going to be a real pain in the ass, I could tell.
"Listen, here's the only warning that you'll get from me. Pay up the damages, and lose the light show. It's all very impressive, but its damaging my floor and I can't be arsed to deal with stuck-up entities"
"**FOOL!**" The bar shook, light and fire billowed from the Hot-headed knight.
A few patrons turned in their seats to get a better view.
"**WE ARE THE ELEMENTALS. WE DO NOT PAY DAMAGES, NOR HEED THE FRAIL WARNINGS OF MORTALS. YOU WILL SERVE US OR-**"
I held up a finger.
"I don't care if you're Paul-Fucking-McCartney. If you're going to be little shits about it, you can clear off"
Fire cracked, lightning buzzed and steam surged around; the knights began to glow brighter. Likewise, so did I.
"You're *barred*".
Space began to fold around the knights. Prismatic glass made of air twisted and snapped at the knight's armour, becoming a blackened void.
"**WHAT IS THI-**" Fire went out. Lightning stopped. Vapour dissipated.
The void vanished, leaving nothing amiss... apart from the knights.
I went back to cleaning glasses, wondering if any of the androids present were any good at carpentry and door repair. |
*Universally protected as a result of being well liked. | [WP] You are the bartender for the bar in between dimensions, where good and evil alike go to have a drink. You are well liked by all, and universally protected. One day, some New Gods try and fuck with you. | ''Busy tonight, as usual'' I mumbled to no one in particular as my eyes swept across the array of tables and booths that make up my small, humble pub.
''When is it not? Who can resist the crisp ale, fine wine, ambience and of course. The enchanting landlady?'' my eyes went from what looked like a half-assed poker game taking place at the wonky corner table I really needed to fix to the grizzled, silver haired veteran sat in one of the few stools at the bar. I felt my lip quirk in an unwilling smile, Vywyn was a treasured regular. An old wizard who’d seen too many winters, too many battles and had a weathered, permanently scowling face that spoke of a man with a lifetime of experience in being too stubborn to die.
He wasn’t expecting a response, I allowed him a grin before returning my attention to the mug in my hand. I continued the repetitive drying motion, a round round of drinks had been served to all the tables and this was my moment to breath and take in the familiar atmosphere.
Running a dimensional in-between pub open to the good and the evil of all the known worlds sounds like I’m asking for trouble, but as long as I stuck to serving drinks, bringing food and offering shelter I’m fine.
The only rule, leave it at the door. Whatever personal problems or petty quarrels you have with one another outside my pub walls, stay outside my pub walls.
Surprisingly this has been working out well, and having the universal friendship and protection of some of the most powerful known beings was a bonus. Kick ass war stories and a guardian angel, what’s not to love?
It’s mainly the familiar faces tonight, not surprising. Given that people only find out about this place through word of mouth, I stack the last of the mugs. Pouring a tumbler of whiskey for a young elf approaching the bar, Etain her name is. She likes the single malt I keep at the end of the shelf, she’s the only one who really drinks it. A quick thank you and the exchange of the glass for a few coins and she’s back at her table.
The silver nearly slips from my hand as the sound of the front door opening and slamming into the wall with enough force to almost certainly crack the concrete startles me into an undignified jolt, I quickly drop the coins onto the back counter and turn to the source of the noise.
Two men, young men. Probably gods judging from their gentle glow and obvious presence, six foot tall at least, neatly cropped hair, the left one blond the right one brunette, and armor that was so obnoxiously grandiose it bordered on downright impractical. Yup, definitely gods.
They each had a sword on their left hip and fixed smirks as they approached the bar, I could feel my jaw clench before they set their eyes on me.
“Merlin’s arse” Vywyn muttered, his eyes following the young gods as they appraised their surroundings “they look like they’ve never set foot in a place like this in their lives”
I didn’t hear him, nor did I notice blondie lean on the bar, my eyes still focused on the still-open door and the definite crack in the damn wall. An infuriating clicking noise drew my attention back to blondie, I met his expectant face with a raised eyebrow, not even trying to hide my annoyance.
“The most expensive wine you have, bottle, two glasses. We’ll be over there’’ He gestured to the only free left in the building, not even waiting for my reply as he and brunette sauntered off out of my line of site. I hadn't even notice the pub had gone silent until I heard the gods' chatter, which was as obnoxious as their armor.
A sweep of the room showed that every other patron was staring at the two men. Clearly unimpressed with their entrance, which was now causing snow from outside to blow in through the still open door to ruin my nice wooden floor.
"Etain, love. Any chance you could close the door please?" I called out to the elf sprawled in one of the booths, she obliged. With only minimal complaining.
I grabbed my most expensive bottle, a nice fruity red with a somewhat dusty bottle. I loaded it onto a tray with two glasses and walked it to their table, to my relief the rest of the bar’s eyes left them and the general chatter was back to normal level.
"This is the nicest thing you have?’’ Blondie drawled, turning the bottle over in his gauntlet covered hands with distaste, oh gods above.
“Now now” Brunette seemingly chided his friend “I’m sure the nice landlady can more than make up for it in company”
Before I could reply Brunette snatched my free hand, yanking me to close to him and slipping an arm around my waist. He was strong, I could practically feel his bloody tendons through the chain mail. The tray clattered to the floor, once again. The pub went silent and all eyes were on us. I sighed, trying not to struggle whilst I met his smarmy grin.
“If you could take your hands off of me, that’d be grand” I said, almost smirking at the look of brief surprise on his face before it melted into anger.
“No need to be like that” He laughed, quickly recovering. He leveled his gaze, a look of easy superiority that I've seen a million times already gracing his baby face. I knew where this was going, soon enough he’d be asking me the million dollar question…
“Do you know who we are?” Boom, called it. I don't know who they are, young gods tend to think everyone knows who they are. It’s humbling watching them get humbled.
"Nope. But I can guess where your heading, costume ball? There's no way that impractically gauche armor serves any other purpose than aesthetic'' I easily replied "Unless its purposefully bulking you up, in which case I apologize for your need to over compensate, that's rather unfortunate. But don't worry, I'm sure you'll be the prettiest pair at the ball!" I said with false enthusiasm, this earned me a round of heavy laughter from the others.
Understandably, the young gods were less than impressed. They didn't have to say it, I got the picture when Brunette's arm left my waist and one of his spiky, dragon adorned (really?) gauntlets grabbed my neck, he stood. Taking me with him leaving me dangling a few inches off of the ground.
"You little bitch I'll..." there was no need to worry, before his other hand could even raise for what I can only assume was meant to be a back handed slap. The others jumped into action, one blink later I was back safely on the ground. Being guided back to the bar by Etain whilst the unfortunate gods behind felt the wrath of the magical patrons who would hate for anything to happen to the nice landlady.
They were no match for the stubborn old warriors who dealt with them, they've fought stronger beings for less. They were brutally, and rather spectacularly set upon before they could even draw their swords or summon any form of magic.
Once I was back behind the mahogany safety of my bar Vwywn had them both by the scruffs. Barely conscious and bleeding something awful, not even dignifying them with a witty parting phrase as he tossed them into the snow.
He stalked to the bar, his expression the softest I've ever seen it
"You alright? Sorry for the slow response. Should have thrown them out the second they dented your wall" he grumbled, I could only laugh. I fucking love these guys, I could be walking away with a lot worse than a slightly sore neck if it weren't for them.
"I'm good" I assured the old man, before turning to the rest of the equally concerned faces. I grabbed a few mugs and pitchers before raising my voice,
"Round of drinks, on the house!" | It was another typical day, devils and angels talking over some strange concoction, clouds of sentient energy flowing in and out, and beings existing on some level that I can't even comprehend getting into a fight. It pays the bills in the best way possible so I don't complain. Although I think most of them like the tiny insignificant being who is serving them drinks that could destroy planets. That's what you get for being a human in a multi-dimensional world.
How do I know they like toying with me, well, let me tell you. The other day five "Gods" as they call themselves in their universe came in. They ordered something, think it was a Quantum Shaker, all five of them got one. I think if I could compare it to something on Earth, I would say a drink I had one time in Mexico called Liquid Cocane. Anyway, it makes them really...intoxicated and after a few, they started to harras others at the bar.
I kept a wary eye on them as they tried to hit up some aliens, possibly from my universe. All five of them stood around her and even with her strange bony face, she looked worried. Probably just an Info Gatherer one of the few who tries to use this place to convey information faster than light. Anyway, they drunkenly teased her about how she only sees in one direction of time, and can only comprehend three spatial dimensions. She tried to get away but there massive void like figures kept her there.
I came over to her seat and talked to the five of them, told them to go away. They shifted their attention toward me. They started to insult me, one of them even grabbed me fourth dimensionally, which is a big no-no, especially in this bar. I looked around for any friends, I didn't want to involve Mar3ni, our bouncer. Luckily, I saw a line I recognized, it was my good pal 410 Hertz. He had one spatial dimension but had at least five-time dimensions on these "Gods".
I looked at him and he waved his way over to me. They looked at him, he noticed them and begun to multiply backward and forward in time. On some temporal dimension, I could not notice if he was beating them up or just making them uncomfortable, but eventually, they decided to leave. They looked at me and said something along the lines of it's not worth it and they left.
410 Hertz told me that it was the 500 birthday of the youngest one and they decided to celebrate. I guess some things never change. He paid me with some energy and I gave him a drink on the house. 410 Hertz was a good friend, always had my back. You could say that about most of the 'people' in this bar. They liked how I told jokes, which confuse those who have no idea what humor is.
Anyway, it's a pretty good job. Pays well, I get to meet the definition of interesting sometimes literally. You just have to know how to melt a universe and you are good, and it's really not that hard. Plus, Free drinks of some of the most powerful stuff in the universe.
|
*Universally protected as a result of being well liked. | [WP] You are the bartender for the bar in between dimensions, where good and evil alike go to have a drink. You are well liked by all, and universally protected. One day, some New Gods try and fuck with you. | *ding ding* the bell from my door rings from behind me as I am weeping down the back tables.
"Sorry, ya just missed last call ten minutes ago, I ain't pouring anymore pints, but I can do glasses of water and milk if ya wanna have a chat about today's loss," I said, assuming it was one of my regulars coming in with a glum expression of defeat.
"I'm afraid we're not here for a drink," replied a snobby voice that I didn't recognize.
"Well what can I do ya fer?" I asked, turning around to see a late twenty something take a seat by my bar as two broad associates locked my door and turned over my closed sign. "If you're not interested in a drink,I might not be much good fer, ya," I said, continuing my work on the tables.
"Word is you are the person with the most useful information on the lives of the most powerful beings in this sector, they say Galator himself orders his Venium on the rocks here," sneered the man as he reached behind my bar to grab a bottle, open it and put it I'm front of himself.
"Well a couple public figures may visit my establishment, but I don't have any information that is mine to give, you know, bartender- patron confidentiality and all," I said flatly, pacing over behind the bar and sweeping the bottle off the counter, starting to get a little irked.
"What if it's not a choice of yours to withhold it from the next Holy Supreme?" The broad woman who locked my door asked, aggressively striding up to my bar to slam her fist, putting a dent in my bar.
"Ha, a Holy Supreme?" I laughed, feigning shock.
"Indeed," sneered the man, "does that surprise you?"
"Son, I have seen two galaxies collapse, broken up a fight between a Terran and am Onynx and brokered a peace treaty in 9 different star systems, but never has and never will a Holy Supreme be in my bar." I said, pouring myself a glass of water.
"Well I would say you are in luck, but what with your refusal to indulge me, it seems that yours has run out," he said, standing to face me from across my bar, "Unis, Argus, why don't you provide me with some information from this old man."
Before the two brutes could move, a crash came from the door causing all three of them to turn around swiftly to see a bloody figure step through my door.
"Oh, gee, I'm sorry Mr. Glarus, I didn't mean to do it again, but I didn't realize you would lock your door before 0300 on a Tuesday," Samsonite said, still holding my front door by the handle as it was removed from the hinges.
"Oh, don't worry about it, Sam," I said, taking a sip of my water, "I'll have Marge put it back on in a couple hours.
"They aren't causing you any trouble, are they Mr. Glarus?" Samsonite said, noticing the vibe in the bar, "you don't need me to call the bouncer do you?"
"No, no," I waved him off, seeing the dumbfounded expressions on their faces, "we are alright, Unis here is just a little upset about missing last call."
"Oh, ok, well I'll take a milk," he said, walking up to the bar.
"Stop right there, Sam, you know the rule, no blood at the bar," I said, pointing him to the bathroom.
"Right, right, I'll be right out, make sure to warm the glass for me though," he said add he walked back.
"Of course," I called, turning my attention back to my other patrons, "anyway, what were you saying?"
The man could barely speak, "th th that... wa wa was.... Sam.... Samson..."
"Yes, Samsonite, the cruel, comes in whenever he has a particularly bad run in with the federation, or Kane," I said, "I've been seeing less of him though since he conquered his 113th rim system though."
At this point the both his bodyguards were out the door and the young man just sat there, dumbfounded. "I think I have the wrong bar," he said as he stood up and meandered out the door in a daze, passing Kane on the way out.
"Who was that, Mr. Glarus?" Kane asked.
"Just some kid looking for some directions," I replied, going back to cleaning tables.
"You seen Samsonite round here?"
"Yeah, he's in the restroom, but you know the rule."
"Yeah, yeah, no blood at the bar," he said, taking a seat in at the bar.
| Norm carefully picked his way through the crowd of unconscious goblins and angels. He arrived at the entrance and unlocked it. A troll moaned as the door nudged his deformed skull.
"Morning' Grog!" Norm said.
"Ungh," the troll replied. Then he stumbled into the bushes to vomit. Norm wrinkled his nose.
"I'm cutting you off early next time, bud."
He headed inside the Waypoint Bar, his pride and joy. It was located between the High dimension of angels and fairies, and the Low dimension of demons and goblins, and had a 4.9 star rating on Yelp.
Norm flipped on the lights and heard a CRASH. A vampire had been sleeping upside down above the bar. He cowered on the ground, shielding his face with his dark cape.
"Vik, I told you I'd front you come cash but you can't sleep here anymore," Norm said.
"You are too good to me human," Vik said from the floor.
"No worries man," he said. "Barback for me tonight and I'll pay you time and a half."
The vampire nodded and scuttled to the kitchen. He owed Norm clean dishes from the day before too.
Norm brushed the blonde hair out of his eyes and carefully re-did his man-bun. He tied his apron around his waist and flipped a switch, lighting up the massive sign outside.
It was drinking time.
The slumbering drunks roused and dragged themselves inside.
"Afternoon Norm!"
"Hey Norm!"
"Good day, blessed human Norm!"
"Come on in folks, first round is on the house!" Norm called.
Demon and angel alike cheered. Norm always took care of his regulars.
Glowing angels shared tequila with horn-encrusted orcs; flutter-winged fairies tried to keep pace with cave trolls. Norm was already lost in the chaos. Limbs, wings, claws, and beaks darted through the air seeking liquor.
The red door slammed open. A humanoid figure walked through the door. She was...aflame; embers danced across her form. Her sooty face was set in a scowl.
A handful of similar forms followed behind. One blue with darting eyes, one gray and shaking.
Norm looked up casually. "Welcome folks. First time?"
"Them's the New Gods," Grog shouted in a troll whisper.
"Aye. The lead one's Rage. Disgust is the yellow fella. And Anxiety's the gray," a fairy added.
Norm shrugged.
Rage stepped to the bar.
"Tequila. Now!"
Norm arched an eyebrow and grabbed the bottle.
Grog leaned a heavy claw on Rage's shoulder.
"Be polite."
Flames surged and Rage knocked the claw aside.
"ARE YOU THREATENING ME? I'LL HAVE YOUR HEAD!"
Grog glared down.
"Polite."
Rage turned to her companions.
"Are we gonna stomp these assholes or what?"
"Gross. You want me to touch...that?" Disgust asked. "It's slimy."
"They're looking at us funny, u-uh..we better do something about it. I...I guess," Anxiety said. His face faded to a deeper gray.
Rage snapped. She broke a glass on the bar and lunged at Grog. Disgust stepped up to help, and Anxiety cowered under a table.
Grog caught the fiery arm, snapping it in two. The angel next to him held out a radiant palm and sealed the God in a shining prism.
A fairy whizzed by and stepped on Disgust's toe with a sickening crack. Disgust raised a fist to respond – until Vik's teeth sunk into his throat.
Meanwhile a trio of goblins and dwarves chased Anxiety under the tables. Finally an elf captured the God in a lightweight net.
Grog cast out onto the street, back to the hole in the dimensions they came from. He returned inside.
"Norm – okay?"
Norm shook the glass and blood out of his bun and smiled back.
"Yep, thanks guys. Next round's on the house too!" |
[WP] Write a story that ends "and they lived happily ever after" - but make that line seem as dark or foreboding as possible. | She was sitting at the cafe, her usual spot on the patio. Her copper hair sitting on her shoulder blades in loose curls as she sipped gingerly from a dainty espresso cup.
Gary could see her. This was the first sign his code was working. She had blocked him nearly two months ago, shortly after he was fired. He appeared on her ocular implant as a red outline, she appeared on his as an amorphous beige shape that sent powerful waves of nausea through his head until he was out of her vicinity. It was unbearable.
If he couldn't have her, couldn't they at least let him see her? Even the photos on his wall at home, on the computer, all became globs of ugly nothing that sent him wretching until he looked away. All he could do was write her name, Elaine, over and over again.
It was permanent, the courts said, but he proved them wrong. Nothing can stop true love.
Gary waited for to finish, she would soon get up and walk down Cooper Street. There he could initiate the second the step. It was Saturday, her day. She spent it to herself, the introvert she was. He had to do this in the morning. He needed at least 12 hours to upload the program and let her recover. Then another full day of memory replacement, though this would be minor compared to what he's read about. If she wasn't back to work on Monday someone would notice, though, so he needed the whole weekend.
As she asked for the bill Gary got up and went to his place in the alley. He took out his laptop and the little transceiver he had gotten from a website, one he was surprised didn't just scam him. There he waited until she walked past. He pressed enter, the code sent invisible 1s and 0s into her augmentation implant, causing her to collapse. Everything was working so perfectly for once.
Elaine woke up in a dark room with a throbbing headache. There were monitors around, and an IV drip in her arm. Did she have some for of seizure? She tried to move but she was strapped to the chair. Her heart began to sprint; this isn't a hospital.
Movement beyond the monitors.
"What the fuck is going on?" She screamed.
"Don't worry Elaine, you'll understand soon enough. Please don't struggle." She knew that voice, it was familiar.
"What are doing to me?" Anger and fear were suddenly released through massive sobs.
"Please don't cry! I'm not going to hurt you. This is for us. For you and me." It was that fucking creepy Gary from her work, the one she had to get a restraining order for.
"Gary? Gary don't do this, whatever you're doing," He stepped into the dim light of the glowing monitors.
"Listen Elaine, you're ill. You aren't thinking straight, or else you'd recognize how much better our lives would be together. I'm going to fix that Elaine. This program is going to use your augmentation implant to help you. It's going change your some of the inhibitors and neural connections in your brain, ever so subtly don't worry, and make you realize we were meant to be together. Just light electrical waves sent to the parts of your brain that need help. The parts that will let you love me," He smiled as he clicked enter on the keyboard in front of her.
"God no..." she genuinely pleaded to whatever forces might stop this.
The next day work Elaine arrived at the office a little later than usual.
"Hey girl everything alright? You look a little hungover," Sarah the bubbly receptionist greeted her.
"Absolutely! Just a bit tired this morning, I've got some great news though. I'm engaged!" She squeeled.
"Oh my god, seriously? I didn't even know you were seeing anyone who is?" Sarah leaped up and gave Elaine a hug.
"Remember Gary? Me and him made up and he's marrying me this spring. I'm so excited," Sarah gaped in shock.
No one could quite understand how or why Elaine would choose to marry her former stalker. The quiet little pervert they had to fire, who she had spent months complaining about to HR before going to the police.
But none-the-less, they lived happily ever after.
| June 3rd 2035
I am one of the last ones left. I'm only writing this so that when we have all lost our minds, a future civilization can at least know what happened here and learn from our mistakes.
You see, a few years ago we discovered that if we wrote things on a very specific type of paper, God paper or something, that it would come true in our universe. At first we used it for things like time travel and influencing physics at certain times to make our daily lives better. We were smart, we wrote everything in pencil, because that meant if something went wrong, we could just erase it and all would go back to normal.
Then it happened. Someone somewhere used a pen and wrote a fairytale on God paper. Yes, a fairy tale. And a good one too, so good in fact that it took us some time to realize that anything is wrong at all. The universe of the fairytale was so well crafted, that we couldn't make out what was fairytale and what wasn't. It's important to know that the bigger the change, the longer it takes to catch on all over the world.
This time it's also different than anything else. Our minds are being affected, since we're all just characters in a book now.
When we finally did realise what was happening we tried countering it by going to the witch and asking her to try and change it, but she was unwilling to help us after all the bad things humanity has said and done to her over the millennia. Next we took the golden brick to see if there wasn't anybody around to help us, but it was deserted.
Oh and did you hear that the princess finally got married? Yeah it's great! Everyone was invited, except the witch of course. She married that boy who pulled the sword from that big rock in England. They're going to have a baby and live happily ever after!
Edit: effected -> affected | |
By stop moving, I mean he/she falls asleep. | [WP] A human is abducted by aliens who don't know what sleep is, and they get really worried when the human they found stops moving | These things took me in the middle of a midnight jog. Scooped me up in a fly by with a bucket on the bottom of the ship. No glowing beam, no levitation, no time to say goodbye to anyone. Not a pleasant first contact. They shoved these plastic looking things into pretty much every orifice I have; I sprained my wrist and maybe fractured some finger bones keeping them out of my more favorite holes. I can confirm that there's probably a darn tough skull under their deceptively squishy looking faces. I still dunno if they were different devices or if they were all the same thing; maybe they just figured "put one in every hole, one of them has to work."
I figure the things were translators, and maybe some sort of data collection tool too, but after they put the two in my ears I could hear them as if speaking English. The one they lodged in my mouth still feels lodged in my throat. I guess they probably took a few other folks and learned how we spoke using the throat thingamabob; just a guess though. They're more about asking than answering.
They asked all sorts of nonsense. Asked whether we knew about aliens. Asked why so many of us were armed if we didn't. About why we don't live in the Oceans but instead insist on the deserts. Asked whether the quadropeds were slave species or whether we had some sort of symbiotic relationship.
I thought about lying, but I figured the truth would scare them more. I told them we had no clue that anything else was out there, that we live in the desert because "Fuck Mother Nature; we live where we want to," and that we're packing heat because sometimes we like to kill. We'd already killed every animal that tried to kill us along with a bunch that didn't; killing each other was a way to keep the game alive. I told them the animals left were kept in torture pens until we could kill them for food; a few we even trained to help us kill other animals. Those we kept around for fun. Told them that they if they were gonna pick a fight then we'd be the happiest little sadists in the solar system. That seemed to scare them. Good. Fuck em.
After a few hours, they squiggled out or slugged out or waddled out whatever the fuck it is that moves them around under those nasty, pulsating skin flaps. I tell you, adrenaline kept me fighting at the start; but I was tired as all hell by that point. It was late, and I just fought a bunch of aliens. I went to sleep; deep fucking sleep.
"Can you hear me, number 3!!??"
"Yes! God fucking dammit! what the fuck do you want; I'm tired!?" I was shocked awake by the blare of an alarm, the shouting of the fucking aliens, and the most revolting touch I've ever felt.
I'm still not entirely sure how the little nubs and bumps on the end of their arms grasp tools, but that weird pulsating touch is my new least favorite alarm clock. I can't make out facial expressions on humans the minute after waking up, and I sure as hell couldn't tell what this purple alien thing wanted. It was emitting a foul odor I hadn't experienced before, and the (muscle? Skin?) flaps by it's base were flailing all about.
"He is alive," I heard the thing yell, presumably not to me. "Number 3, we need more information from your species, are you expiring? Will you be able to answer our questions or are you expiring? We can acquire another if that is the case."
I was already "number 3," so I figure maybe a few others "expired." Fuck em. They're not taking any more people. I told em, "I'm fine you purple fuck, I was just sleeping. Leave the folk down there alone; I've already been cooperating."
"Number 3, what is 'sleeping'? Explain your conduct, we have your cell locked down and will not tolerate violence."
I stared the thing down for like five minutes until it hit me. He had no idea what "sleeping" was. The tranlsator thing must be turning the word into some unintelligible noise for him; and he's just repeating the noise, not the word. The things must work with shared concepts, not literal language, because I'd been cussing and throwing metaphors all day with no problem. It hit me that he had no concept of "sleep" at all. The thing probably assumed it was an act of violence from my earlier scare tactic rants; so, ya know, at least that was a success. Anyway, I figured I could probably spook him again.
"'Sleep is the micro death, the glimpse of the great void to which we mere mortal souls retire when we wish to see the face of God in our selves. You cannot know it, for it is ours alone. All of the earth sleeps, all of the earth sees the void filled with terror and delight. These visions of the void are 'dreams,' and they are locked from your kind, weak and mournful. Past and future are ours to command, that which was and is and will be and may be and cannot be. I have flown through your stars in my dreamship, and I have lead the instruction of my people with nought but my voice and my underwear, I have fought battles, I have taken mates, I have faced horrors beyond your conception. I have done these things without moving from this spot; I have become stronger than I was. The great void refills us and recharges us once per day."
The thing was puslating like mad, and the smell got worse than garbage night at the crab shack. I swear to god, that was my most poetic moment in life; and it paid off. The thing started yelling, but no words came through. I think it was just making primal yelping sounds, like an animal facing its predator. I had become the scariest thing it'd ever seen.
"Number 3, stand down!" Two more entered with some sort of metal piping draped round their bodies. They'd threatened me by brandishing the pipes when i hit the probing alien, so I figure they were weapons of some sort. "Number 3, you will not take this ship!" They weren't as panicked as the other guy, but they weren't flapping about as much. Maybe these were soldiers.
"Fuck it," I thought, gotta run with it.
"No, no, I don't need the ship. I don't need your lives. I need your obedience."
"Stand Down! we are in command here; we will put you down if you will not comply! We have put down others!"
"Oh, the others, yes. They survive in the void. They spoke to me, and soon others will know. Sure, you can kill me; but then we hunt. We hunt from sleep where you cannot find us; we hunt from the void. We see but cannot be seen; always watching. The ones left with bodies will carry out our will; our numbers and bloodlust is too great to contain." They were starting to stink more, and the flapping really picked up. These fuckers were scared too!
"Stop! What do you want? Can we not make peace?! We have not harmed you! We only came to learn!"
"You came with weapons. Children marching to war on the gods of death. You have already taken first blood. The others are gone from the flesh, and we have all been taken from our homes. I told you before, we have been content to fight each other; but you seem to insist on giving us a new prey! If you want peace, you must act quickly before the fury overtakes my people; for I have sent word in the great void through my sleep."
"What must we do? Please, we have not come for war! We will make it right!"
"Return me to my home, burn the corpses of the other prisoners and scatter the ashes over our oceans, and then seek peace with our leaders. You must go to the Eastern Coast of the Northern half of the continent you found me on. Fine the pentagonal temple we have made in the land of the aluminum capped obelisk and the statue of the seated man. Prostrate yourselves before the men inside the structure, but do not let yourselves be seen before you enter. you would be killed on sight. The men inside will direct your fate!"
I swear to god that was my second most poetic moment, and it fucking worked. They made me witness the funerals, but I figure that wasn't so bad. I wouldn't be able to find their families, but I did want them to rest here, on our own planet. The ashes deal was something I'm pretty proud of actually. Then they brought me home and fucked right off in the direction of D.C.
Nobody believed me in the local bar, but the story earned me a few drinks, the cheap ones of course. Fuck those cheapskates though. I just got a phone call with a sweet job offer; a fricken general is on his way to my house. I saved the fucking world.
| Dregaz leaned forward.
<<What... what is it doing?>>
<<Huh?>> said Rolkis.
<<Look at it. The human. It's... laying down. Why would it do that?>>
Rolkis sauntered over to the console Dregaz was seated in front of. She unfurled her thoracic limb and pulled the monitor closer to her. Dregaz was right, the human was doing something very strange. It had pulled its legs up to its chest and was laying on its side. And... its eyes were covered with some sort of skin flap that, up until now, Rolkis hadn't noticed.
<<Hmm. Well, what was it doing just before it laid down?>>
<<Good question, that made just about as much sense: it was sitting still, just staring at the wall, then wrenched its mouth open, wider than I knew they could open them. It almost looked like it was screaming, but no sound was coming out. I even checked the room microphones, but they were all the way up. Then it just put its hands under its head like that and fell over, flapping those little skin folds over its eyes.>> Dregaz looked up at Rolkis from his seat, <<Why would it blind itself? It knows we've captured it, right?>>
Rolkis looked at Dregaz, then both Relyans turned back to the screen and stared intently for several minutes.
Dregaz broke the silence, <<Well, Ma'am, whatever it's doing, I don't like it. Why would a creature, when trapped, choose to incapacitate itself? It makes no sense!>>
<<Very true Dregaz, it doesn't make much sense at all. Keep an eye on it, I'm going to go back down to the engine and make sure that all that rattling we heard upon entry wasn't anything too serious. Let me know as soon as you notice a change in its behavior.>>
<<Aye aye ma'am!>> Dregaz raised both of his hands and tapped his chest. Rolkis returned the gesture, then walked through the bridge hatch and began to climb down the ladder to the engine room.
________________________________________________________________________________________
Two hours passed as Rolkis tinkered with and replaced damaged engine parts. She took her time, it was tough for Relyans to focus on anything for this long, they were a pretty kinetic people, but the fusion cores on these older model saucers tended to be a bit finnicky and she wanted to make sure she got the refits done perfectly. All the while she kept an aural node peeled in case Dregaz needed her. But no alert came.
She wiped oil from her hands as she crossed the threshold of the bridge again, finding Dregaz right where she'd left him.
<<Dregaz, it's been two hours. I told you to let me know when anything changed. You better not have left your post.>>
The Relyan turned around to look at her. His mouth was agape and his eyes were wide and strained as he peeled them from the screen to meet her gaze.
<<It hasn't. Moved. Once.>>
<<What? It's been two hours. How could it have not moved?>>
<<I have no idea. It's just been laying there. Unmoving. Unflinching. It almost looks like it's enjoying it. I don't know what these things are, but pardon me ma'am, they're fuckin' nuts.>>
Rolkis pursed her lips, then pulled a seat up next to Dregaz and sat down.
<<Ok. You say it didn't move for two hours. Sure. Let's see this then.>> She crossed her three arms and the two sat in awkward silence, staring at the screen.
After a half hour, Rolkis let out an exasperated, <<GAH! MOVE!!>>
Dregaz startled and fell half-way out of his chair.
<<I told you ma'am! It didn't move at all!>>
<<What kind of game is it playing at?? Fuck, two and a half hours and no movement at all! I don't like it cadet, I don't like it one bit.>>
<<Ma'am, what if it's a trap? What if it wants us to think it's dead or something, then as soon as we open the door it unhinges its jaw and just takes a bite out of us?>> His voice was higher pitched and wavering now, the concentration of watching for so long was getting to him, <<I'm not dying for this! This was supposed to be a research mission, not a mind-trap with some hairless monkey-bastard!>>
<<Cadet, pull it together! We need to think. We don't know much about them, but apparently their mental endurance is outstanding. If it's this capable of long periods of concentration, who knows how long it's been planning a way out. I don't like prisoners planning. I hate to say it but I think we need to go in there and break its concentration. It could be setting a trap, it could be metamorphosizing, it could be communicating with its people. Whatever the case, the longer it does it, the worse our odds are. I'm sorry, but it's time to suit up cadet.>>
Dregaz gulped. He'd been dreading this.
_______________________________________________________________
Dave was in the middle of a nice dream about ice cream when he heard the door woosh open.
He immediately opened his eyes and looked in its direction. This was it! He'd waited his whole life to meet an alien and he was finally gonna get the chance to do so. He could barely sit still.
He could see the barrel of what he could only imagine was a gun of some sorts, slowly creeping into the room, shaking profusely. The thing that followed it was a three-foot tall green creature with legs very similar to his, but ending in three, large toes. The creature had two large arms on either side of its torso, and one smaller, baby-sized arm coming out of the middle of its chest, holding a smaller gun that was also shaking. In fact, its whole body was shaking under its armor, making a rattling sound from inside of the thick metal.
It slowly crept into the room, keeping its guns pointed generally in his direction as its arms trembled vigorously.
"Aw, little guy's nervous," thought Dave as the alien gingerly approached him.
"Hi there! I'm Dave!" he said, as he reached out his hand towards the alien.
"EEEccraazz GroOBNAZ!" screeched some horrible voice from a speaker on the cell wall next to him.
"Oh, wait!" he threw up his hands and waved them in a STOP motion.
<<DREGAZ NOW!! IT'S MAKING SOME KIND OF MENTAL SHIELD! TAKE THE SHOT!>>
A blast of green liquid erupted from the end of the larger of Dregaz's guns and carved a sharp tunnel straight through Dave's face.
He slumped to the ground, seeping cerebrum and green liquid onto the floor.
<<Phew. Good work cadet, crisis averted. That poor bastard almost had us. Now clean that up and get back in here, we've got work to do.>> |
By stop moving, I mean he/she falls asleep. | [WP] A human is abducted by aliens who don't know what sleep is, and they get really worried when the human they found stops moving | These things took me in the middle of a midnight jog. Scooped me up in a fly by with a bucket on the bottom of the ship. No glowing beam, no levitation, no time to say goodbye to anyone. Not a pleasant first contact. They shoved these plastic looking things into pretty much every orifice I have; I sprained my wrist and maybe fractured some finger bones keeping them out of my more favorite holes. I can confirm that there's probably a darn tough skull under their deceptively squishy looking faces. I still dunno if they were different devices or if they were all the same thing; maybe they just figured "put one in every hole, one of them has to work."
I figure the things were translators, and maybe some sort of data collection tool too, but after they put the two in my ears I could hear them as if speaking English. The one they lodged in my mouth still feels lodged in my throat. I guess they probably took a few other folks and learned how we spoke using the throat thingamabob; just a guess though. They're more about asking than answering.
They asked all sorts of nonsense. Asked whether we knew about aliens. Asked why so many of us were armed if we didn't. About why we don't live in the Oceans but instead insist on the deserts. Asked whether the quadropeds were slave species or whether we had some sort of symbiotic relationship.
I thought about lying, but I figured the truth would scare them more. I told them we had no clue that anything else was out there, that we live in the desert because "Fuck Mother Nature; we live where we want to," and that we're packing heat because sometimes we like to kill. We'd already killed every animal that tried to kill us along with a bunch that didn't; killing each other was a way to keep the game alive. I told them the animals left were kept in torture pens until we could kill them for food; a few we even trained to help us kill other animals. Those we kept around for fun. Told them that they if they were gonna pick a fight then we'd be the happiest little sadists in the solar system. That seemed to scare them. Good. Fuck em.
After a few hours, they squiggled out or slugged out or waddled out whatever the fuck it is that moves them around under those nasty, pulsating skin flaps. I tell you, adrenaline kept me fighting at the start; but I was tired as all hell by that point. It was late, and I just fought a bunch of aliens. I went to sleep; deep fucking sleep.
"Can you hear me, number 3!!??"
"Yes! God fucking dammit! what the fuck do you want; I'm tired!?" I was shocked awake by the blare of an alarm, the shouting of the fucking aliens, and the most revolting touch I've ever felt.
I'm still not entirely sure how the little nubs and bumps on the end of their arms grasp tools, but that weird pulsating touch is my new least favorite alarm clock. I can't make out facial expressions on humans the minute after waking up, and I sure as hell couldn't tell what this purple alien thing wanted. It was emitting a foul odor I hadn't experienced before, and the (muscle? Skin?) flaps by it's base were flailing all about.
"He is alive," I heard the thing yell, presumably not to me. "Number 3, we need more information from your species, are you expiring? Will you be able to answer our questions or are you expiring? We can acquire another if that is the case."
I was already "number 3," so I figure maybe a few others "expired." Fuck em. They're not taking any more people. I told em, "I'm fine you purple fuck, I was just sleeping. Leave the folk down there alone; I've already been cooperating."
"Number 3, what is 'sleeping'? Explain your conduct, we have your cell locked down and will not tolerate violence."
I stared the thing down for like five minutes until it hit me. He had no idea what "sleeping" was. The tranlsator thing must be turning the word into some unintelligible noise for him; and he's just repeating the noise, not the word. The things must work with shared concepts, not literal language, because I'd been cussing and throwing metaphors all day with no problem. It hit me that he had no concept of "sleep" at all. The thing probably assumed it was an act of violence from my earlier scare tactic rants; so, ya know, at least that was a success. Anyway, I figured I could probably spook him again.
"'Sleep is the micro death, the glimpse of the great void to which we mere mortal souls retire when we wish to see the face of God in our selves. You cannot know it, for it is ours alone. All of the earth sleeps, all of the earth sees the void filled with terror and delight. These visions of the void are 'dreams,' and they are locked from your kind, weak and mournful. Past and future are ours to command, that which was and is and will be and may be and cannot be. I have flown through your stars in my dreamship, and I have lead the instruction of my people with nought but my voice and my underwear, I have fought battles, I have taken mates, I have faced horrors beyond your conception. I have done these things without moving from this spot; I have become stronger than I was. The great void refills us and recharges us once per day."
The thing was puslating like mad, and the smell got worse than garbage night at the crab shack. I swear to god, that was my most poetic moment in life; and it paid off. The thing started yelling, but no words came through. I think it was just making primal yelping sounds, like an animal facing its predator. I had become the scariest thing it'd ever seen.
"Number 3, stand down!" Two more entered with some sort of metal piping draped round their bodies. They'd threatened me by brandishing the pipes when i hit the probing alien, so I figure they were weapons of some sort. "Number 3, you will not take this ship!" They weren't as panicked as the other guy, but they weren't flapping about as much. Maybe these were soldiers.
"Fuck it," I thought, gotta run with it.
"No, no, I don't need the ship. I don't need your lives. I need your obedience."
"Stand Down! we are in command here; we will put you down if you will not comply! We have put down others!"
"Oh, the others, yes. They survive in the void. They spoke to me, and soon others will know. Sure, you can kill me; but then we hunt. We hunt from sleep where you cannot find us; we hunt from the void. We see but cannot be seen; always watching. The ones left with bodies will carry out our will; our numbers and bloodlust is too great to contain." They were starting to stink more, and the flapping really picked up. These fuckers were scared too!
"Stop! What do you want? Can we not make peace?! We have not harmed you! We only came to learn!"
"You came with weapons. Children marching to war on the gods of death. You have already taken first blood. The others are gone from the flesh, and we have all been taken from our homes. I told you before, we have been content to fight each other; but you seem to insist on giving us a new prey! If you want peace, you must act quickly before the fury overtakes my people; for I have sent word in the great void through my sleep."
"What must we do? Please, we have not come for war! We will make it right!"
"Return me to my home, burn the corpses of the other prisoners and scatter the ashes over our oceans, and then seek peace with our leaders. You must go to the Eastern Coast of the Northern half of the continent you found me on. Fine the pentagonal temple we have made in the land of the aluminum capped obelisk and the statue of the seated man. Prostrate yourselves before the men inside the structure, but do not let yourselves be seen before you enter. you would be killed on sight. The men inside will direct your fate!"
I swear to god that was my second most poetic moment, and it fucking worked. They made me witness the funerals, but I figure that wasn't so bad. I wouldn't be able to find their families, but I did want them to rest here, on our own planet. The ashes deal was something I'm pretty proud of actually. Then they brought me home and fucked right off in the direction of D.C.
Nobody believed me in the local bar, but the story earned me a few drinks, the cheap ones of course. Fuck those cheapskates though. I just got a phone call with a sweet job offer; a fricken general is on his way to my house. I saved the fucking world.
| Subject 198C-23
Species: HOMO SAPIENS
CURRENT STATUS: UNKNOWN
DIET: UNKNOWN
Other: Specimen requires 30% oxygen to gas ratio to survive.
The Species Homo Sapiens is the most intelligent on planet Earth. However they are still behind and only possess rudimentary space travel. A subject was requested by the Galactic Alliance for study of bodily processes of humans and to attempt communication.
Hour One:
Specimen is emitting loud noises and secreting various substances of varying qualities from pores in body. Likely Biological in origin and poisonous. Biological team will be sent in to collect samples.
Hour Ten:
Subject has continued emitting loud noises and responds wildly and convulsively to responses and attempts at communication. Subject shows no understanding of basic telepathic communication. Likelihood of intelligence is low.
Hour Fifteen:
Substances have been analyzed. The liquids expelled from the body contain no significant amounts of known poisons. There is a high concentration of salt and minerals however. Further study required.
Hour Twenty:
Specimen has lost interest in researchers and has started to attempt to communicate. It's telepathic abilities are extremely low. No communication has succeeded. Additionally Subject continues gesticulating wildly and making noises.
Hour Twenty-Four:
Specimen is no longer emitting noises and is lightly convulsing in a corner. Stimuli only agitates the Specimen instead of a massive defensive response as earlier. Subject has stopped excreting substances.
Hour Thirty:
Specimen is no longer moving. Vital electrical signs are extremely low. No response to stimuli. Attempts to resuscitate the Specimen have failed. Specimen is likely dying from lack of some unknown substance necessary for life and/or continuous agitation.
Conclusion:
Specimen was caught on the planet Earth in Sector 1238. It has been 32 hours since departure from Earth. Subject was initially very excited and began emitting horrific noises and secreted substances from unknown orifices in body. Substances seem to be primary self defense but are not poisonous or primarily useful after extensive testing. Subject gradually grew more and more quiet until it was convulsing in a corner. After 24 hours Subject was no longer emitting noises and did not respond further to stimuli from scientists or other sources. Specimen is likely dead or in the process of dying. No contact has been successfully made. The Species HOMO SAPIENS is not as intelligent as previously thought with very low electrical readings and no outward physical abilities. Curiously HOMO SAPIENS have a complete society and have built many Tier 3 technologies.
As is customary for a dying creature, Specimen is to be buried with the highest honors. It is against Galactic law to dissect a dead body. Specimen will be cleaned and buried with a single plasma rifle as well as a single energy sword.
More Research is required. It is thought that HOMO SAPIENS may be mostly physical beings whereas most creatures in the galaxy are Telepathic. While our soul keeps our physical form intact HOMO SAPIENS appear to have evolved to have a physical body that regenerates to keep a soul intact. Most organisms on Earth appear to have evolved with this ability to regenerate their physical forms.
Again it is imperative that more studies are taken as the understanding of how a physical body can survive without a strong electrical field can revolutionize our medical care and the inevitable destruction of the body as time continues.
edit: Improvements and spelling. |
. | [WP] You're offered the chance to stop the death of your Mother's first true love, and avoid ever getting with your abusive Father. But, of course, the consequences for this are you not existing. | I stood, shaking and drenched in sweat, my breathing hard and laboured. I had just killed my father, that vile excuse for a human being who had terrorised my family on a daily basis for the past eighteen years. I was suddenly very afraid. Not because of the murder I had committed, but because something far worse had obviously happened. I was still here.
Time travel has consequences, this was clear to me when I started on this journey. I knew that killing my father would mean that I would cease to exist. I also knew that it was the only thing I felt compelled to do. My so-called father had made my life a misery and I didn’t want to continue living anyway.
Worse though was what he had done to my mother, turning a once strong and vibrant woman into a husk of a person, afraid even of her own shadow. Of course, I could have taken another path, perhaps tried to escape his evil clutches and rebuild our lives far away from him. I had considered it many times, but my mother was so beaten down she refused to leave him.
The tipping point came when I discovered that my father was the person responsible for the death of my mother’s first true love. By all accounts he had been a good man, kind, intelligent, generous, and totally besotted with my mother. If he had lived, I was sure they would have been happy together. She would have had a good life, probably had their own children, maybe even grandchildren to look forward to. By killing him, my father stole her chance of happiness and for that he had to pay.
Killing my father was surprisingly easy. I felt no remorse, but strangely calm as I waited for the sweet oblivion of non-existence.
It never came.
Instead, I found myself returned to the present, standing in an unfamiliar bedroom. I checked the mirror on the wall and it was definitely me, although I looked a little different, like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I also noticed that my clothes were stained with my, now late, father’s blood. I hurriedly cleaned myself up and changed into some clothes from the wardrobe, pleasantly surprised that they were my size. Not knowing where I was or who else may be there, I slowly opened the bedroom door and tiptoed out, planning to escape to somewhere quiet where I could try and work out what exactly had happened.
“I was just about to call you dear. Lunch is ready, and me and your dad would like to have a little chat.”
That was definitely my mother standing there talking to me, and yet it wasn’t quite her. Her voice was normal, even sing-song, not quiet and timid. Her blue eyes sparkled, her hair was glossy and beautifully styled in a way that highlighted her delicate features. It was as if someone had added colour to the old black and white version of her that I was used to.
A feeling of panic set in. So, my father was still alive. I was going to have to confront him again as I had obviously failed to change the past. And yet, so many things were different - my mother, the house, even myself.
I followed her into the kitchen, mentally looking for possible weapons that I would be able to use to finish the job in the present that I had obviously failed to do in the past.
Around a small dining table, three places had been set and a delicious looking lunch was laid out. Although I had no appetite, the sight of good nutritious food, which my father had never allowed us to have, brought a small tear to my eyes.
Noting the knife rack on the wall just behind me I relaxed a little and sat down. I would have the element of surprise and, having killed my father once I would not hesitate to do it again.
And then, in walked my father. Except, it was my mother’s first true love. Sure, he was older than the photos I had seen of him, but the few grey hairs and the soft wrinkles around his eyes could not disguise the fact that it was undoubtedly him.
I was relieved that I was already sitting down. I needed time to think so I let him and my mother take the lead making small talk. My plan must have worked somehow, because he was alive, my mother was with him, and my father was nowhere to be seen. I listened as they playfully laughed at each other’s jokes, watched the way they subtly glanced at each other with obvious adoration in their eyes, noticed the gentle way their hands brushed as my mother cleared the plates.
“You’ve been so quiet, are you okay?” she frowned.
“Fine mum, just a bit tired, that’s all.”
“Okay, good. You see, we wanted to have a chat with you. A serious one. Don’t worry, it’s nothing you’ve done wrong. It’s just, well now that you’re eighteen, an adult, we think there’s something you should know. It doesn’t mean that we love you any less, in fact we couldn’t love you more. I don’t know how to say this …”
Did they somehow know what I had done? Time travel was a closely guarded secret but secrets have a way of escaping. Were they going to tell me that it was alright, that they knew I done it with the best intentions, that they were happy now? Even if they did know, I still didn’t understand why I was still here.
“Eddie” she whispered, “You’re adopted.”
| It was hard to figure out what I wanted for my third wish. Looking around aimlessly grasping for any site of inspiration, I ran my hands done my face. My scars felt like brale on my skin. "Take me back to September 13th, 1972, that is what I'm asking for my final wish". With a *snap* I arrived at a train station in downtown New York.
Men in business attire were boarding the train to ride to work, I tapped the nearest one on the shoulder. "Sir, do you have a news paper?" He reached into his coat and handed me the latest copy of the New York Times. The top of the paper read September 13th, 1972. I shouted with happiness "YES!". Out of the corner of my eye was a telephone booth. I ran my finger down the phone book until I spotted a familiar address. "1738 West Lincoln Avenue". I had to find him before it was to late. I had to figure out what caused his death, I have to save my step brothers from the same abuse even if I have to sacrifice myself.
*Knock* *Knock* *Knock* The door opened and revealed a beautiful young brunette woman in a light blue dress. "I was wondering if I could speak with John?" My mother looked down on me without understanding how truly unreal this moment was. "John!" she shouted "a man is here to see you". A tall man with broad shoulders came down the stairs carrying two small boys. I ran a hundred scenarios through my head, I couldn't tell him who I was but I had to save him. Somehow, someway...... |
. | [WP] You're offered the chance to stop the death of your Mother's first true love, and avoid ever getting with your abusive Father. But, of course, the consequences for this are you not existing. | "Look at them," says the seer, and I open my eyes.
Mother's hair shines in the moonlight; it ripples like silk as she laughs. Her toes look pale next to the young man's. Together they draw ripples in the water. He tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, leans in and kisses her cheek.
I blush a little at the intimacy.
"I recognize this dock--Grandma's," I say, because I can't think of anything else.
"Tomorrow he will die."
My mother smiles, takes a swig of her beer. They're laughing at some unheard joke. The seer must sense my hesitation.
"She will be happy. Fulfilled."
"But I won't exist."
The seer stoops down, looks me in the eyes. He's a strange creature--sort of a blur. Look too hard at his face and I go bleary-eyed.
"She'll have three children, souls who otherwise wouldn't exist. They'll buy this lakehouse, bike to brunch on the weekends. She'll drink coffee in the mornings with a good book in her lap. Nobody would have ever laid a hand on her."
I shuffle on my feet.
"And your Father will cease to exist."
"He what?"
"The scales must be balanced. You say yes, and your Father dies tomorrow instead of him."
My father's face plays in my mind--his deep furrowed scowl and sharp cheeks. An anger roils inside, deep in my gut. It pricks at my throat like I've swallowed a bur. The seer's still stooped to my level. His head bobs in this slow rhythm that makes me wonder if he's the one behind the images.
I see Father's belt, uncoiling like a snake. Hear my mother's sobs dulled by a locked door. The acrid scent of cigarretes and burnt flesh fills my nose.
On the dock, Mother and the young man are waltzing awkwardly. Waves lap in the moonlight, rocking the dock. They stumble this way and that, and my mother sounds happy.
"Can I choose how Father dies?" I ask.
"I suppose."
The anger's reached my fingers. It tingles, so I clench them into a tight fist. I look the seer dead in the face and say:
"Make it painful."
The seer nods.
"Let it be done."
He stands, begins unraveling something from its thick cloak.
"Wait! one question...before. Why me? Why not anyone else?"
The seer pauses for a moment before saying slowly:
"I told you, my child. I see everything. Just as I have seen her past-"
He gestures towards mother.
"I have seen *your* future. You'd be surprised how fundamental cycles are to Life. Past, present, future. All concentric circles."
He's pulled out an ovular apparatus. As it rotates, my eyes become heavy.
"Sometimes," he says. "I feel obligated to make certain cycles stop."
---------------------
Hope you enjoyed. You can check out my [subreddit](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritersCryWhiskey/) for more weekly stories!
| It was hard to figure out what I wanted for my third wish. Looking around aimlessly grasping for any site of inspiration, I ran my hands done my face. My scars felt like brale on my skin. "Take me back to September 13th, 1972, that is what I'm asking for my final wish". With a *snap* I arrived at a train station in downtown New York.
Men in business attire were boarding the train to ride to work, I tapped the nearest one on the shoulder. "Sir, do you have a news paper?" He reached into his coat and handed me the latest copy of the New York Times. The top of the paper read September 13th, 1972. I shouted with happiness "YES!". Out of the corner of my eye was a telephone booth. I ran my finger down the phone book until I spotted a familiar address. "1738 West Lincoln Avenue". I had to find him before it was to late. I had to figure out what caused his death, I have to save my step brothers from the same abuse even if I have to sacrifice myself.
*Knock* *Knock* *Knock* The door opened and revealed a beautiful young brunette woman in a light blue dress. "I was wondering if I could speak with John?" My mother looked down on me without understanding how truly unreal this moment was. "John!" she shouted "a man is here to see you". A tall man with broad shoulders came down the stairs carrying two small boys. I ran a hundred scenarios through my head, I couldn't tell him who I was but I had to save him. Somehow, someway...... |
. | [WP] You're offered the chance to stop the death of your Mother's first true love, and avoid ever getting with your abusive Father. But, of course, the consequences for this are you not existing. | At the funeral, a little girl I'd never seen before grabbed my hand in the line and said, "How come you ain't cryin'?"
No one else looked or flinched or did anything, so I suppose they couldn't hear. I wanted - very much - to be angry at the implication. To squeeze her little hand harder than any adult should. But she wasn't wrong, and she was curious. I suppose I was, too.
"I guess," I said, slowly, collecting my thoughts carefully, "I guess I'm just glad she's at peace right now."
The line seemed to have stalled. It wasn't as though the others were frozen, or that time had stopped, but simply that everyone in that moment was utterly, intensely focused on the conversation in front of them. And so the little girl lingered.
"How'd you figure?" she asked.
"She...she was in a lot of pain." It hurt to say it. I suddenly realized that that's where all my sadness had been hidden away. In memories. In regrets. "She's not in pain anymore."
"What kin'a pain?"
I looked around and felt the stillness of the moment. It was as if time had struck a barrier. Nothing would really happen until that barrier had been breached.
"My father...is not a good person." How much should you say to a little girl? I didn't have any practice. "He hurt her. Badly. Often."
"He kill 'er?" The little girl's face was twitched to the side, like an confused puppy.
"She killed herself. To get away." I shouldn't have said any of it. I only realized that as the last word slipped out. "I'm sorry. That's...you shouldn't hear stuff like that. Who's your mom?"
She shook her head. "Nobody you know. How come you didn't save her?"
I felt that anger flash again. Rise up, like vomit in my throat. And I wondered - as I always did - if this is how it happened with Dad?
"I didn't...I don't know." I didn't. There was no good reason. No excuse. I told myself, over and over, that what I saw wasn't happening. That reality wasn't real. And my mother and my father supported that lie. They laid the foundation.
*It's nothing, baby. It's fine.*
*Just a little accident, baby. It's fine.*
*She's just clumsy, slugger. Always makin' a mess of her face like that. But we still love her, don't we?*
Maybe I could forgive myself for the first 15 or so years, but eventually I became an adult and I ran out of ignorance to swaddle myself in.
*It's fine, baby. It's fine.*
"I didn't know what to do," I said to the little girl.
"D'you know she use'ta have a boyfriend named Jeff?" said the little girl. "Nice guy. Loved her a lot."
I shook my head. Part of me started to realize I wasn't talking to a little girl. But if not that, then what? I wasn't prepared to really ask myself then.
"She coulda married him. Lived with him. Forever and ever. Would that have been better you think?"
"Married Jeff?" I said. "Well, I mean...if he was nice to her..."
"Real nice," said the little girl. "Treated her like an angel. Course, you wouldn't be if that happened, right?"
"Yeah. I guess." *Jeff.* The name was familiar. I think maybe I'd heard my mother talk about him once or twice. Maybe seen his name on Facebook. Somewhere. "Why? Why are you...?"
"D'you think it'd be better if your mom married Jeff and you didn't exist?"
I didn't think. The answer seemed obvious. "Yes. Definitely. If she'd be happy. If she'd be alive."
"Hmmm," said the little girl, very thoughtfully. "But what about Jeff's daughter?"
"Jeff's...*daughter*?"
The little girl nodded. "She can't be if Jeff ends up with your mom, can she? You wouldn't be and she wouldn't be."
"I..." I felt increasingly disconnected from that moment and that place. It felt like I was taking a test in a subject I'd never studied before.
"And what about Maryann?"
"Who's Maryann?" I asked.
"Your father's other wife. The one he married because he never met your mom. What happens to her? She's got three kids right now. Ben, Julie, and Abby. They wouldn't be. Something else would. And Maryann'n be dead. Like your mom. What about all that?"
"I don't understand." I didn't. I didn't at all.
The little girl poked me gently in the sternum. "And what about your kids?"
Now I shook my head. "I don't have..."
She sighed, cutting me off with a hand. "You won't ever feel okay about what happened to your mom. About what he did and about what you *didn't* do. But that's done. Cry about it if you want. Hate yourself a little if it helps. But when that's all wrung out, you'll still be here. He'll be here. Jeff'll be here. Jeff's daughter'll be here and your future'll be here. I'm sorry for your loss."
And just like that, the barrier broke. The world was movement and sound once more. The little girl disappeared into the sea of subdued black. Cousin Ross was patting my shoulder and saying words. The funeral parlor smelled of lilac and disinfectant.
And I was still there. | It was hard to figure out what I wanted for my third wish. Looking around aimlessly grasping for any site of inspiration, I ran my hands done my face. My scars felt like brale on my skin. "Take me back to September 13th, 1972, that is what I'm asking for my final wish". With a *snap* I arrived at a train station in downtown New York.
Men in business attire were boarding the train to ride to work, I tapped the nearest one on the shoulder. "Sir, do you have a news paper?" He reached into his coat and handed me the latest copy of the New York Times. The top of the paper read September 13th, 1972. I shouted with happiness "YES!". Out of the corner of my eye was a telephone booth. I ran my finger down the phone book until I spotted a familiar address. "1738 West Lincoln Avenue". I had to find him before it was to late. I had to figure out what caused his death, I have to save my step brothers from the same abuse even if I have to sacrifice myself.
*Knock* *Knock* *Knock* The door opened and revealed a beautiful young brunette woman in a light blue dress. "I was wondering if I could speak with John?" My mother looked down on me without understanding how truly unreal this moment was. "John!" she shouted "a man is here to see you". A tall man with broad shoulders came down the stairs carrying two small boys. I ran a hundred scenarios through my head, I couldn't tell him who I was but I had to save him. Somehow, someway...... |
. | [WP] You're offered the chance to stop the death of your Mother's first true love, and avoid ever getting with your abusive Father. But, of course, the consequences for this are you not existing. | At the funeral, a little girl I'd never seen before grabbed my hand in the line and said, "How come you ain't cryin'?"
No one else looked or flinched or did anything, so I suppose they couldn't hear. I wanted - very much - to be angry at the implication. To squeeze her little hand harder than any adult should. But she wasn't wrong, and she was curious. I suppose I was, too.
"I guess," I said, slowly, collecting my thoughts carefully, "I guess I'm just glad she's at peace right now."
The line seemed to have stalled. It wasn't as though the others were frozen, or that time had stopped, but simply that everyone in that moment was utterly, intensely focused on the conversation in front of them. And so the little girl lingered.
"How'd you figure?" she asked.
"She...she was in a lot of pain." It hurt to say it. I suddenly realized that that's where all my sadness had been hidden away. In memories. In regrets. "She's not in pain anymore."
"What kin'a pain?"
I looked around and felt the stillness of the moment. It was as if time had struck a barrier. Nothing would really happen until that barrier had been breached.
"My father...is not a good person." How much should you say to a little girl? I didn't have any practice. "He hurt her. Badly. Often."
"He kill 'er?" The little girl's face was twitched to the side, like an confused puppy.
"She killed herself. To get away." I shouldn't have said any of it. I only realized that as the last word slipped out. "I'm sorry. That's...you shouldn't hear stuff like that. Who's your mom?"
She shook her head. "Nobody you know. How come you didn't save her?"
I felt that anger flash again. Rise up, like vomit in my throat. And I wondered - as I always did - if this is how it happened with Dad?
"I didn't...I don't know." I didn't. There was no good reason. No excuse. I told myself, over and over, that what I saw wasn't happening. That reality wasn't real. And my mother and my father supported that lie. They laid the foundation.
*It's nothing, baby. It's fine.*
*Just a little accident, baby. It's fine.*
*She's just clumsy, slugger. Always makin' a mess of her face like that. But we still love her, don't we?*
Maybe I could forgive myself for the first 15 or so years, but eventually I became an adult and I ran out of ignorance to swaddle myself in.
*It's fine, baby. It's fine.*
"I didn't know what to do," I said to the little girl.
"D'you know she use'ta have a boyfriend named Jeff?" said the little girl. "Nice guy. Loved her a lot."
I shook my head. Part of me started to realize I wasn't talking to a little girl. But if not that, then what? I wasn't prepared to really ask myself then.
"She coulda married him. Lived with him. Forever and ever. Would that have been better you think?"
"Married Jeff?" I said. "Well, I mean...if he was nice to her..."
"Real nice," said the little girl. "Treated her like an angel. Course, you wouldn't be if that happened, right?"
"Yeah. I guess." *Jeff.* The name was familiar. I think maybe I'd heard my mother talk about him once or twice. Maybe seen his name on Facebook. Somewhere. "Why? Why are you...?"
"D'you think it'd be better if your mom married Jeff and you didn't exist?"
I didn't think. The answer seemed obvious. "Yes. Definitely. If she'd be happy. If she'd be alive."
"Hmmm," said the little girl, very thoughtfully. "But what about Jeff's daughter?"
"Jeff's...*daughter*?"
The little girl nodded. "She can't be if Jeff ends up with your mom, can she? You wouldn't be and she wouldn't be."
"I..." I felt increasingly disconnected from that moment and that place. It felt like I was taking a test in a subject I'd never studied before.
"And what about Maryann?"
"Who's Maryann?" I asked.
"Your father's other wife. The one he married because he never met your mom. What happens to her? She's got three kids right now. Ben, Julie, and Abby. They wouldn't be. Something else would. And Maryann'n be dead. Like your mom. What about all that?"
"I don't understand." I didn't. I didn't at all.
The little girl poked me gently in the sternum. "And what about your kids?"
Now I shook my head. "I don't have..."
She sighed, cutting me off with a hand. "You won't ever feel okay about what happened to your mom. About what he did and about what you *didn't* do. But that's done. Cry about it if you want. Hate yourself a little if it helps. But when that's all wrung out, you'll still be here. He'll be here. Jeff'll be here. Jeff's daughter'll be here and your future'll be here. I'm sorry for your loss."
And just like that, the barrier broke. The world was movement and sound once more. The little girl disappeared into the sea of subdued black. Cousin Ross was patting my shoulder and saying words. The funeral parlor smelled of lilac and disinfectant.
And I was still there. | "Look at them," says the seer, and I open my eyes.
Mother's hair shines in the moonlight; it ripples like silk as she laughs. Her toes look pale next to the young man's. Together they draw ripples in the water. He tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, leans in and kisses her cheek.
I blush a little at the intimacy.
"I recognize this dock--Grandma's," I say, because I can't think of anything else.
"Tomorrow he will die."
My mother smiles, takes a swig of her beer. They're laughing at some unheard joke. The seer must sense my hesitation.
"She will be happy. Fulfilled."
"But I won't exist."
The seer stoops down, looks me in the eyes. He's a strange creature--sort of a blur. Look too hard at his face and I go bleary-eyed.
"She'll have three children, souls who otherwise wouldn't exist. They'll buy this lakehouse, bike to brunch on the weekends. She'll drink coffee in the mornings with a good book in her lap. Nobody would have ever laid a hand on her."
I shuffle on my feet.
"And your Father will cease to exist."
"He what?"
"The scales must be balanced. You say yes, and your Father dies tomorrow instead of him."
My father's face plays in my mind--his deep furrowed scowl and sharp cheeks. An anger roils inside, deep in my gut. It pricks at my throat like I've swallowed a bur. The seer's still stooped to my level. His head bobs in this slow rhythm that makes me wonder if he's the one behind the images.
I see Father's belt, uncoiling like a snake. Hear my mother's sobs dulled by a locked door. The acrid scent of cigarretes and burnt flesh fills my nose.
On the dock, Mother and the young man are waltzing awkwardly. Waves lap in the moonlight, rocking the dock. They stumble this way and that, and my mother sounds happy.
"Can I choose how Father dies?" I ask.
"I suppose."
The anger's reached my fingers. It tingles, so I clench them into a tight fist. I look the seer dead in the face and say:
"Make it painful."
The seer nods.
"Let it be done."
He stands, begins unraveling something from its thick cloak.
"Wait! one question...before. Why me? Why not anyone else?"
The seer pauses for a moment before saying slowly:
"I told you, my child. I see everything. Just as I have seen her past-"
He gestures towards mother.
"I have seen *your* future. You'd be surprised how fundamental cycles are to Life. Past, present, future. All concentric circles."
He's pulled out an ovular apparatus. As it rotates, my eyes become heavy.
"Sometimes," he says. "I feel obligated to make certain cycles stop."
---------------------
Hope you enjoyed. You can check out my [subreddit](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritersCryWhiskey/) for more weekly stories!
|
[WP] Two depressed, suicidal people meet at the same bridge they plan to jump from. One begins to convince the other not to do it. | He had a black clothes on. Black like death. If death was even black. The sun was starting to rise as he took brisk steps closer to the bridge that would be his end.
His thoughts wandered. If death wasn't black maybe it was the soft orange color the sun had in the early morning. Maybe was it the color of the blue sky.
Maybe, just maybe, was his death the color of green eyes he would never see again. His steps turned faster.
Before long he was on bridge. On it he saw the black outline of a person. His heart dropped. A female face turned to the noise of his steps. A young face with old, black eyes. In them he saw himself. He was like a mirror reflection of the dark eyed stranger. He knew why she was there. She knew why he was there.
"I'm cold" Her voice were quiet and it almost surprised him. He didn't know what do with it. Was it a question or a statement? She almost looked disgusted by her words, as if she didn't say them voluntary. As if they were old words from someone else. He thought that he were cold too. He probably couldn't help her. Cold people doesn't warm cold people. But he couldn't ignore her so he reached for her hand and clamped his fingers around hers.
Her nails were blue, and his too. Their hands were both cold. But somehow he felt a little warmer. He turned up to her eyes. They were black and strangely glossy. When he saw them he knew. Black weren't color of death. It could just as well be the color of life. | The grou looked a long way down to Jim. That was good. There’d be no chance of surviving, which honestly sounded worse than living. Living was an empty existence devoid of even the most miniscule pleasure. There would be good days, sure, but they were just punctuations in an otherwise dreary, unending summer of glum. Sure enough a trip up would be accompanied with a crash down.
To have to experience every bone break, additional pain – physical pain, and dependency on top of all of that – that was ever worse than living.
So Jim was glad that the drop appeared to be steep.
He put one foot out over the precipice. There was no steeling of nerves. No deep breath. He was ready. And just as he was about to shift his center of gravity forward, he heard shuffling footsteps.
It was 4:00 am. Footsteps on the bridge meant one of three things: someone was out cleaning, out to clean themselves – or out to the clean the world of themselves. Curious, Jim stepped back and turned around.
*Now there’s a sorry looking person*, Jim thought to himself. No, he admitted, worse than sorry, the figure in front of him just looked pathetic. An emaciated looking gentleman, all skin and bone, unshaven and shivering, wearing a thicken woollen coat that looked several sizes too big, giving him the appearance of a comical cartoon character. His eyelids fluttered against the dawn sleet and he ambled over next to Jim, but didn’t take any notice of him, staring out over the river.
For the next few minutes neither of them spoke. The man looked out, and Jim looked at him. The morning rush over the bridge hadn’t yet begun, and so silence hung over them, punctuated by the occasional squawk of the birds overhead, which would be followed by the delivery of a white blotch, that so far, seemed to miss the both of them.
*I wonder if he’s ok?* Thought Jim. Off course he wasn’t, he reasoned. No one comes to the bridge at this time of morning because it’s fun. This man clearly had some problems that he needed to work out. His face was blank only in a manner that someone with no capacity left to feel could look. There was no sign of joy or misery, just a steely gaze. It looked defiant – the look of a man who finally appeared to be in control of his own life.
But he won’t be! Jim cried in his head. Surely, he had plenty to live for. This didn’t have to be the end. He wouldn’t know after all, how bad things could truly get. He wouldn’t know the feeling, day after day, of trying to drag himself out of bed, only to find that his body wouldn’t obey his mind, and he would just stare at the ceiling as darkness turned to light, and back again. He couldn’t know the soul crushing, chest constricting feeling of living life – terror every time he saw someone new, and sadness that came at the absence of those he knew. The way Jim felt trapped inside his own body when he was around other people. The way the tirade of his inner monologue turned into a resounding roar the second he began to feel anything even remotely positive.
It wasn’t fair that someone else might have to experience that. Before he left, Jim knew he had to fix this. No one had ever bothered helping him. No one even realized, as they saw solid Jim, stoic Jim, reliable Jim. No one even considered that the friendly, chuckling man before them stayed awake hours at night, relentlessly reading, or on his phone, too scared to be left alone, tossing and turning with his own thoughts.
This time, Jim steeled himself. He would be damned if this other person went through what he did all alone.
Just as he was about to open his mouth to speak, with the sun now starting to peek out over the horizon, his companion turned to him and said:
“Hey, man. Are you ok?”
| |
[WP] Two depressed, suicidal people meet at the same bridge they plan to jump from. One begins to convince the other not to do it. | The air always seemed so much colder before the break of dawn, and the night sky just so dark. The cool icy feeling of the rails felt as if it pulled the heat from those that touched it. The fog rested along the banks so far below and the height was disorienting. The river below splashed occasionally against rocks and he remembered the way it sparkled in the sunlight during the day; and the park's trees the way they swayed in the wind, their emerald leaves bouncing. But now in the darkest hours of the night the view sat grayscale across a monochrome horizon. He pulled himself up on the ledge and hung his legs over.
A small ping of metal caught his attention and he saw a woman a few feet away. She was leaning against the rails and staring out at the colorless scene, the slight breeze flipped through locks of her hair.
"What are you doing out this late?" He finally asked.
The two sat in silence staring at the endless sky. "I don't know, I guess I'm just wondering."
"It's a wonderful spot to do that." He said. She gave a weak smile, he looked up at her misleading smile and thought he'd never seen something so out of place. "What about?" He asked.
"Well life I guess," she sniffled holding back against the sting of waiting tears. "What is this mess of wants so unnecessarily stampeded by the requirements forced upon us."
"So not a soulful wandering upon a scenery for wonderment then?"
She started to laugh but it came out like a broken sigh. "I wish life gave me time for random soulful wanders. Why are you here?"
"Maybe the same reason you are. The feeling of isolation drowned out by my ignorance and repression. So many options given and yet decisions I couldn't make. Everyone just seems to know what to do in life and yet I feel so lost, I can't make up my life, obviously even if it depended on it and I just don't know where to go. I wish I could just do the one thing that seems possible upon my list of desires and live the life it'd give me." He answered.
"Tell me... What is it? What's the thing you want to do?"
"There's so much I want to do, but I'm sure all of its impossable. I love a good story, you know. But I don't think I can have a life like they do so instead I'd like to be able to write stories of my own, to share them and give others something to enjoy, something that maybe others could wish they could do in life. And yet I can never seem to do put mind to completing the task. And all the other things forced upon me in life push away the time, and all those things seem so mundane and yet impossible for me to do and yet so easy and normal for others."
"They all shove their ideals at you again and again. What you should and shouldn't do. They tell you they understand, but wonder silently why you can't make up your mind. Why is life so stale, so singular. Shouldn't we have excitement in our lives. I'm so tired and alone, I'm so lost. So bored. Why shouldn't it just end, take away the emptiness!" She frantically cried out letting her tears free. Clambering up against the rail she attempted to climb onto the ledge.
"Hey!" He yelled jumping up from his seated position. "What are you doing? Who's to say it's better beyond this? Why would this fix it? You think just giving it up is going to lead you right up to the doorstep of your desires? Maybe it will, maybe it won't, but you don't know so why don't you put in a little effort and trying finding for yourself first." He continued yelling.
Suprised she stumbled on the rail and landed back on the walk path. He made his way nearer holding onto the railing for support. "You just said yourself, maybe it will take me where I want to go." She sat still, slumped down, her legs sprawled out to either side staring at the pavement. "Life is supposed to be about chances, so why not, right?"
"You really think it'd be that easy, that jumping off a bridge like that would just hand you your desires on a platter?"
She pushed her hair back away from her face and revealed the damp paths her tears left behind. "I, I don't know." She stammered through the pain, sorrow and confusion her voice resounded.
"You should live, you're still so young, so much time to gain experiences. Find what your looking for, who cares if you don't do it the same way, if you fail a couple of times, that's life. Throwing it all away, that's not what life's for, if life didn't suck we wouldn't need words like mundane and normal, life only doesn't suck when find things that make it better. Life is what you make it, so be crap, live with your parents until your well in your twenties, don't have a job, don't go to college, whatever just make sure you find something so you can make your life better. You're human that's what humans are supposed to do, adapt, experience, discover. You're human so don't throw that away!" His yells rang out, echoing against the metal cross beams.
"Who are you to talk." She said, rising from her slump she walked over to face him. "You came here to throw it all away, who are you to yell at me!"
He bowed his head and let a single tear break through dropping against the metal rail. He looked up again, at his partner in the darkness. "If humans could comfort themselves then we wouldn't need people to experience our lives with and make them so much better." He smiled.
They stood for a while, letting the silence fill the air again. The first light broke through and filtered out a piercing dull yellow to section out the sky. The rays flowed across the vast stretch of sky pushing away the blanket of fog and lighting the river again. The emerald leaves shone in the coloring sky and the birds began to sing to the dawn's arrival.
"You're right, you know, all those mundane and normal things, why should they be normal for everyone. Life doesn't exist for us all to do the same, life is supposed to be for us all to find our own way." She smiled. This time as he observed her smiling face, he thought there was nothing more fitting for her face. They stood for a while on either side of the rail and stared out at the rising sun, absorbing the beauty of the scene. Taking the time to enjoy the sight. | The fog flowed beneath the bridge, blocking out the water below. Maybe it was better that way thought Jake, the height could easily scare someone away from jumping. The morning rush was over and everyone in the city had settled into their desks to do work. This left the bridge empty. Jake swallowed, his spit having a soft iron taste to it. Today was the day, the day to jump and end it all.
The past year had been pretty harsh. His wife had cheated on him and left, taking everything. He had been demoted at work and all his friends had moved out of state. To put it straight, Jake felt like he was moving backwards in life and had wasted his best years with that bitch Kate. He had sent a note to them all. His boss, his coworkers, his distant friends, even to her. He imagined their faces, sadness filling their eyes realizing that they had messed up with him, the guilt sinking in. He would show them.
The cold, clobber of footsteps passed through his years. Jake turned around, but saw nothing. An unease started to creep in. That is, until he looked left. Standing there was another suit, a balding, thin man standing in a similar manner to him. Don't tell me he's also committing suicide today. Today's my day.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" The man startled almost jumped out of his skin. He looked over at Jake with bulging eyes.
"Geez, you scared me. I almost fell over."
Jake looked at him. "Can you please fucking leave? I want to be alone in peace. I don't want to hear any bullshit about not jumping. You can't convince me."
"Oh, well what a funny coincidence, I'm also planning to kill myself today." The man smiled a goofy smile, clearly amused. "What a coincidence."
"I don't care, my wife left me, I got demoted and I have no friends. I have nothing left to live for. I want to be alone for my last moments."
The man pushed his round glasses back up his nose, his eyes seeming to bulge ever larger. "My house foreclosed the other day and the IRS is on my ass every single day. I have no job and no skills of any kind. I also found out last week that I have terminal cancer, and my dog died last week, from the same terminal cancer! My wife cheated on me, and left me for my cancer doctor. I found out a week ago that she died from terminal cancer, a different one though."
"Wow, that's actually pretty shitty. I would definitely kill myself if I was in your shoes."
"That's the plan. But I kind of wanted to be alone on this bridge, to look back on my mistake of a life. I don't know why you're jumping. You still have so much life to live. Why don't you just quit and move to a new city, and create a new life for yourself. You seem to have a lot of life in you. Go out and live it."
Jake looked at the fog below, this time a little uneasy. Maybe the man was right. Maybe he was jumping into this too quickly. Maybe he could try and open up a winery in France like he had always dreamed of. Yeah, maybe this was his chance at something new, something better. He turned to say thank you to the man, but the man was already gone. He heard a splash below | |
[WP] Two depressed, suicidal people meet at the same bridge they plan to jump from. One begins to convince the other not to do it. | A man in a dark overcoat was staring off the bridge into the dark icy river, when he heard someone coming his way. He did not react other than looking at the man approaching.
“Hey, I’m George”, said the stranger.
“Hi, Tim.”
George stood next to Tim, attempting to shake his hand, but his initiative was met with passivity.
“Bit chilly today, huh?”, George tried to break the ice.
“Yeah.”, replied Tim.
“I just can’t get tired of looking at the ice go down the river.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Wonder if it would hurt more if to jump into still water or on those sheets.”
Tim looked at George, “Hope I’ll find out soon.”
Geroge’s face lit up with joy. He felt like he found a long lost brother by chance. “No way! You’re here to kill yourself too?”
“You too?”
“Yeah man, been planning it for a year.”
“Dude, you are standing on a bridge, in the middle of the night. What exactly did you plan?”, asked Tim.
“Uh, all kinds of things. Like the date!”
“The date?”, Tim turned to George, “Does this day, November 17th have a special significance in your life?”
“Well, not really.”
“So, you just set a date?”
“Yup. I also figured that this is the right bridge.”
Tim returned to resting his arms on the railing.
“About fifty people jump off of here every year.”
“Exactly!”
“So, let me get this straight, you picked a random day to go to the most popular place to commit suicide.”
“Yup.”
“The question still stands, what was there to plan?”
“Well, uh.”
“You could’ve just done this whole thing last year.”
“I still had unfinished business.”
“Oh come on, if you were serious about this, there woud be no business to finish.”
“Ah, you’re right. I worked my ass off for a year and planned to blow my money on hookers and coke.”
“How original. Fucking casuals.”
“Casual? Like you’ve done this a hundred times.”
“Well, I couldn’t have done it a hundred times, could I.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying. What makes you the expert?”
“Shit takes time. You aren’t hurt enough. You should go home and sleep on it.”, Tim’s voice trembled as he tried to hold back his pent up emotions.
Silence.
“So, why do you want to do it?”
“I dunno. There’s no point to any of it, I guess.”
“That’s it? No heartbreak, abuse as a child?”
“Nope.”
“Did you at least gamble away your money?”
“My funds are in perfect order, thank you.", said Tim in his bittersweet baritone, "It sucks, huh? I haven’t been hurt by anyone in particular, I have money, a home. I have everything I’d ever want and yet I still feel the need to off myself.”, said Tim, “Why do you want to do it?”
“Eh, just things.”, said George as he thought about his own life, “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Hey, we’re dead men talking amongst ourselves. Just let it go, talk to me.”
“Come on, I can’t.”
“I’ll take your secret to the grave, I promise.”
Red and blue lights flashed from behind.
“Everything alright here, sirs?”, asked a voice from the inside of the police car that just stopped on the bridge.
“Of course officer”, said Tim as he turned around.
“My lover and I just having an evening walk.”, said George.
Tim struggled to keep himself together.
“Well, alright then. Keep on doing you’re, uh, domestic, uh… yeah, stay safe and a good night to you!”, said the cop.
As soon as the car rolled away, the two burst out laughing.
“That was a good one.”, said Tim.
“See, it ain’t all bad!”
“Of couse it’s not. How could it all be bad?”
“You said it yourself.”
“No, I said, it was pointless, not bad.”
“So, you’re saying that even though everything is pointless, they are still good?”
“You are just trying to twist my words.”, said Tim and lit a cigarette.
“Are you seriously a smoker?”
Tim just replied with a certain look that only a suicidal smoker can produce and pulled out another cigarette.
“Thanks.”, said Gerorge as he took the offer, “Got a light too?”
Tim gave another look.
“You still want to know why?”
“Do tell.”, exhaled Tim.
“Well, all right. My girlfriend left me.”
“What?! Is that it?”
George inhaled, “Is it not ‘enough’ by your standards?”
“I don’t care, it’s your stupid worthless life anyways. I just think you’re a pussy.”
“A pussy, huh. You’re still standing here.”
“Well, it’s hard to talk to you while falling into the god damn river.”
“I’m done then.”
“You want me to jump?”
“Yeah, jump if you think you’re so ballsy.”
Tim swung his right leg over the railng, struggling with his overcoat. “So, are you staying then?”
“You’re not going to really jump are you?”, asked George in disbelief.
“That’s what I’m planning. Only if you’re done of course.”, Tim looked back.
“So, as long as I’m talking to you, you’re not gonna jump.”
“Seems like I got no choice.”
“Alright, climb on back then.” George flicked his cigarette off the bridge, before grabbing Tim’s arm, “Easy now, you don’t want to slip and fall.”
“So, you think you got it bad, huh.”
“Yeah, but what about you? Is it really just the pointlessness of it all?”
“Hey, I said, I’ll stay until you talk.”, Tim grabbed the railing in another attempt to jump.
“Nonononono, stay. So there’s was this girl, right?”
“Yeah, you already told me that. If you’re done, I’d really like to get going now.”
An early morning bus roared behind them.
“I think your bus just left.”, said George and they burst out laughing again.
“Is it so early already?”, said Tim, “Who woulda’ thunk it!”
"It would be a shame to ruin the perfectly good day of the working masses." A short silemce ensued, until George put an arm around Tim “I dig you man”.
“I dig you too.”, said Tim.
“You wanna get some breakfast?", asked George, "I’m fucking starving.”
“Yeah, let’s go.”
After walking a couple of steps, George said, “Go ahead, I want to take a picture at the exact spot we met.”
“Sure, you’ll catch up.”, said Tim and kept on walking.
George finally broke the ice. | The world had not been kind to either of them. That was easy to tell. The eyes told it all. It was the way they never seemed to focus on anything. The thousand yard stare normally seen in war vets. They had both reached the end of their wits. No words were exchanged. No words were needed. The eyes told it all. Their eyes met.
They each could see the weakness in the other. A tall, lanky man in a business suit was just as weak as a middle aged woman. Life had beat them down the same. Their rounded shoulder said the same. The man looked at the woman. His look of disinterest turned into a scowl. This was not part of his plan. She was ruining this. Two unrelated suicides could not happen at once.
He had no desire to share the news coverage. The scowl turned into a frown.
What should he do?
They both looked over the side of the bride. They became hyper aware of the force of gravity pulling on them. The woman looked down at her feet. Maybe she isn't ready to do this thought the man. He smiled. he found the solution to his problem.
"Hey," he said.
She looked up at him with those dead eyes. A fire burned behind his.
He pushed her off the bridge. She hit the ground with a thud. The man took in a deep breathe and put back his shoulder.
He just destroyed something beautiful. He felt better. The same way punching a wall made you feel good.
He would have to do this more often.
| |
[WP] Two depressed, suicidal people meet at the same bridge they plan to jump from. One begins to convince the other not to do it. | The second car came to a stop on the side of the bridge. A man in a slightly creased brown suit stepped out of the vehicle. His hair was slightly too long and fell over his ears, and he probably could have shaved that morning but decided against it. The top button of his shirt was undone, and his shoes were scuffed. Despite that, he looked content. At peace.
As he walked toward the railing, he took off his name badge, and dropped it on the ground. Maybe someone could find that later. Maybe it'd help them figure it out.
There was someone else at the railing, and he knew who it was. He made his arrival clear, dragging his feet ever so slightly on the beaten tarmac. He stopped, planting his hands on the railing and taking in the view. He didn't need to look at the other man's face.
"Hey John. Here again?"
"Paul."
The two men took in the view. The sun was just setting, glinting off the glass of skyscrapers in the distance. There was silence for a while.
"Cigarette?" Asked John, reaching into his jacket pocket.
"No, I quit - Victoria said it was slowly killing me. She'll be expecting me home any minute now," replied Paul, continuing to look straight ahead.
There was a long silence. He continued, slowly, "I don't know how I'd explain it to her. This just seems easier."
"I know," came the response. "You should probably at least say a proper goodbye to her though. You wouldn't want to go without doing that."
"Yeah, you're right."
The two men stood silently for a while longer before Paul slid his hands off the railing, slowly turned around, and walked back to his car. He picked up his name badge, and straightened his hair. He messaged his wife, telling her he'd be home soon.
As he drove away, he didn't see John climb over the railing.
| The world had not been kind to either of them. That was easy to tell. The eyes told it all. It was the way they never seemed to focus on anything. The thousand yard stare normally seen in war vets. They had both reached the end of their wits. No words were exchanged. No words were needed. The eyes told it all. Their eyes met.
They each could see the weakness in the other. A tall, lanky man in a business suit was just as weak as a middle aged woman. Life had beat them down the same. Their rounded shoulder said the same. The man looked at the woman. His look of disinterest turned into a scowl. This was not part of his plan. She was ruining this. Two unrelated suicides could not happen at once.
He had no desire to share the news coverage. The scowl turned into a frown.
What should he do?
They both looked over the side of the bride. They became hyper aware of the force of gravity pulling on them. The woman looked down at her feet. Maybe she isn't ready to do this thought the man. He smiled. he found the solution to his problem.
"Hey," he said.
She looked up at him with those dead eyes. A fire burned behind his.
He pushed her off the bridge. She hit the ground with a thud. The man took in a deep breathe and put back his shoulder.
He just destroyed something beautiful. He felt better. The same way punching a wall made you feel good.
He would have to do this more often.
| |
[WP] Two depressed, suicidal people meet at the same bridge they plan to jump from. One begins to convince the other not to do it. | The early morning light slowly filtered through the clouds, illuminating the bridge below. The light hit both their faces, creating an eerie, surreal glow. They both stared at the distant water below.
She hovered her foot over the edge, trying to loosen her grip, trying to will herself down. He sat on the ledge near her, rocking his legs. He held a cigarette in one hand.
"There's no rush, you know," he said, almost to himself. "Can't hurt to just enjoy the sunrise for a while."
She ignored him.
"Beautiful morning," he continued, shielding his eyes from the light, "it's a shame we won't be seeing another, really."
"Can you please shut up?" she asked, gripping the railing tightly. "Can't you go off yourself somewhere else?"
"Free country," he replied. He took a drag of his cigarette, blowing out the smoke and savoring the feeling. "What reason a cute girl like you got to end things?"
She shook her head, trying to drown him out. She'd come too far. She couldn't let an idiot like this talk him out of it.
"Really though," he continued, getting up with effort. He walked towards her. "Can't be worse than the mess you'll be in at the bottom."
She glanced at him. He was handsome, in a rugged way. He was holding onto the rail, taking slow, measured steps towards her.
"Are you drunk?" she asked.
"Drunk? Heh, I wish," he replied, flicking his cigarette to the floor and stubbing it out with effort.
"Then what's wrong with you?"
He ignored her, propping himself against the railing next to her. "What's got you down?"
She stood in silence for quite some time.
"...Everything," she finally said, gazing at the horizon.
"Fair enough," he replied.
They both stared at the sunrise, as the city woke up around them.
"Tell you what," he said, turning to face her, "if I can convince you to not kill yourself, you'll go out there and try make the most of it, ok?"
She shook her head. "I've made up my mind."
He nodded. "So have I," he replied, moving to face her on the ledge. The heels of his shoes dangled off the edge.
"Careful... you'll fall," she warned.
"That's the point, isn't it?"
"...I suppose."
He stared into her eyes.
"You know," he said, balancing on the edge, "I think you've got a whole lot more to live for than you realise."
"Same for you, I'm sure," she replied softly.
"Me? Give it a few more weeks, and I won't be able to move. *Degenerative disease*, they call it. I'm a walking vegetable."
She winced, and he laughed without humor. He looked over his shoulder, the wind catching his coat and making his lose his balance. She grabbed him, steadying him.
"Thanks, love," he said as she held him. "You know, I just wanted one last good memory, before my body fell apart."
He gazed at her. "Looks like I got it."
"Tell you what," he continued, "I'll convince you. I'll convince you to live."
She stared into his eyes.
"Why?"
He kissed her. She felt a tingle run down her spine, like she hadn't felt in years. She finally felt alive.
"*So you can live for the both of us*," he whispered, pushing himself off the ledge.
*****
*****
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I'll try add new (and old) stories every day <3 | The world had not been kind to either of them. That was easy to tell. The eyes told it all. It was the way they never seemed to focus on anything. The thousand yard stare normally seen in war vets. They had both reached the end of their wits. No words were exchanged. No words were needed. The eyes told it all. Their eyes met.
They each could see the weakness in the other. A tall, lanky man in a business suit was just as weak as a middle aged woman. Life had beat them down the same. Their rounded shoulder said the same. The man looked at the woman. His look of disinterest turned into a scowl. This was not part of his plan. She was ruining this. Two unrelated suicides could not happen at once.
He had no desire to share the news coverage. The scowl turned into a frown.
What should he do?
They both looked over the side of the bride. They became hyper aware of the force of gravity pulling on them. The woman looked down at her feet. Maybe she isn't ready to do this thought the man. He smiled. he found the solution to his problem.
"Hey," he said.
She looked up at him with those dead eyes. A fire burned behind his.
He pushed her off the bridge. She hit the ground with a thud. The man took in a deep breathe and put back his shoulder.
He just destroyed something beautiful. He felt better. The same way punching a wall made you feel good.
He would have to do this more often.
| |
[WP] Two depressed, suicidal people meet at the same bridge they plan to jump from. One begins to convince the other not to do it. | A man in a dark overcoat was staring off the bridge into the dark icy river, when he heard someone coming his way. He did not react other than looking at the man approaching.
“Hey, I’m George”, said the stranger.
“Hi, Tim.”
George stood next to Tim, attempting to shake his hand, but his initiative was met with passivity.
“Bit chilly today, huh?”, George tried to break the ice.
“Yeah.”, replied Tim.
“I just can’t get tired of looking at the ice go down the river.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Wonder if it would hurt more if to jump into still water or on those sheets.”
Tim looked at George, “Hope I’ll find out soon.”
Geroge’s face lit up with joy. He felt like he found a long lost brother by chance. “No way! You’re here to kill yourself too?”
“You too?”
“Yeah man, been planning it for a year.”
“Dude, you are standing on a bridge, in the middle of the night. What exactly did you plan?”, asked Tim.
“Uh, all kinds of things. Like the date!”
“The date?”, Tim turned to George, “Does this day, November 17th have a special significance in your life?”
“Well, not really.”
“So, you just set a date?”
“Yup. I also figured that this is the right bridge.”
Tim returned to resting his arms on the railing.
“About fifty people jump off of here every year.”
“Exactly!”
“So, let me get this straight, you picked a random day to go to the most popular place to commit suicide.”
“Yup.”
“The question still stands, what was there to plan?”
“Well, uh.”
“You could’ve just done this whole thing last year.”
“I still had unfinished business.”
“Oh come on, if you were serious about this, there woud be no business to finish.”
“Ah, you’re right. I worked my ass off for a year and planned to blow my money on hookers and coke.”
“How original. Fucking casuals.”
“Casual? Like you’ve done this a hundred times.”
“Well, I couldn’t have done it a hundred times, could I.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying. What makes you the expert?”
“Shit takes time. You aren’t hurt enough. You should go home and sleep on it.”, Tim’s voice trembled as he tried to hold back his pent up emotions.
Silence.
“So, why do you want to do it?”
“I dunno. There’s no point to any of it, I guess.”
“That’s it? No heartbreak, abuse as a child?”
“Nope.”
“Did you at least gamble away your money?”
“My funds are in perfect order, thank you.", said Tim in his bittersweet baritone, "It sucks, huh? I haven’t been hurt by anyone in particular, I have money, a home. I have everything I’d ever want and yet I still feel the need to off myself.”, said Tim, “Why do you want to do it?”
“Eh, just things.”, said George as he thought about his own life, “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Hey, we’re dead men talking amongst ourselves. Just let it go, talk to me.”
“Come on, I can’t.”
“I’ll take your secret to the grave, I promise.”
Red and blue lights flashed from behind.
“Everything alright here, sirs?”, asked a voice from the inside of the police car that just stopped on the bridge.
“Of course officer”, said Tim as he turned around.
“My lover and I just having an evening walk.”, said George.
Tim struggled to keep himself together.
“Well, alright then. Keep on doing you’re, uh, domestic, uh… yeah, stay safe and a good night to you!”, said the cop.
As soon as the car rolled away, the two burst out laughing.
“That was a good one.”, said Tim.
“See, it ain’t all bad!”
“Of couse it’s not. How could it all be bad?”
“You said it yourself.”
“No, I said, it was pointless, not bad.”
“So, you’re saying that even though everything is pointless, they are still good?”
“You are just trying to twist my words.”, said Tim and lit a cigarette.
“Are you seriously a smoker?”
Tim just replied with a certain look that only a suicidal smoker can produce and pulled out another cigarette.
“Thanks.”, said Gerorge as he took the offer, “Got a light too?”
Tim gave another look.
“You still want to know why?”
“Do tell.”, exhaled Tim.
“Well, all right. My girlfriend left me.”
“What?! Is that it?”
George inhaled, “Is it not ‘enough’ by your standards?”
“I don’t care, it’s your stupid worthless life anyways. I just think you’re a pussy.”
“A pussy, huh. You’re still standing here.”
“Well, it’s hard to talk to you while falling into the god damn river.”
“I’m done then.”
“You want me to jump?”
“Yeah, jump if you think you’re so ballsy.”
Tim swung his right leg over the railng, struggling with his overcoat. “So, are you staying then?”
“You’re not going to really jump are you?”, asked George in disbelief.
“That’s what I’m planning. Only if you’re done of course.”, Tim looked back.
“So, as long as I’m talking to you, you’re not gonna jump.”
“Seems like I got no choice.”
“Alright, climb on back then.” George flicked his cigarette off the bridge, before grabbing Tim’s arm, “Easy now, you don’t want to slip and fall.”
“So, you think you got it bad, huh.”
“Yeah, but what about you? Is it really just the pointlessness of it all?”
“Hey, I said, I’ll stay until you talk.”, Tim grabbed the railing in another attempt to jump.
“Nonononono, stay. So there’s was this girl, right?”
“Yeah, you already told me that. If you’re done, I’d really like to get going now.”
An early morning bus roared behind them.
“I think your bus just left.”, said George and they burst out laughing again.
“Is it so early already?”, said Tim, “Who woulda’ thunk it!”
"It would be a shame to ruin the perfectly good day of the working masses." A short silemce ensued, until George put an arm around Tim “I dig you man”.
“I dig you too.”, said Tim.
“You wanna get some breakfast?", asked George, "I’m fucking starving.”
“Yeah, let’s go.”
After walking a couple of steps, George said, “Go ahead, I want to take a picture at the exact spot we met.”
“Sure, you’ll catch up.”, said Tim and kept on walking.
George finally broke the ice. | They say that this bridge is a common place for people to end their lives. It's tall, somewhat secluded and easy enough to get to the edge. It has earned the name "Loner's Leap" in the surrounding towns because of its infamy. I wish I had a choice, but I have been wondering for years why I'm still going. One piss job after another, and I haven't made any real money. I'm nearly thirty years old with little more than a couple dollars and an old beat-up Volvo to my name. Hell, I just thought I would have it made by now, especially with the college I went through to get this far. I've been ready to do this for a long time now, I just never thought I would have the balls to do it. But, something is different about tonight, it's time to set things straight. Nobody is going to miss me anyway.
As he turns the car off, he reaches over and puts his wallet, keys and cellphone on the passenger seat. Opening the door, the cold winter wind bites at his face.
"There's no turning back," he whispers to himself.
The bridge is about 50 yards in the distance, the fog makes it hard to see past the end of the trees, but he isn't blinded by the night. The moon is full and casts a glow over the river, barely visible from where he is standing. As he approaches the bridge he can see a faint silhouette on the opposite end.
"Hello?" he quietly inquires, hoping that he's simply imagining things. There isn't a response from the silhouette and he continues to approach the center of the bridge.
"What are you doing here?" a feminine voice calls out from the direction of the silhouette, startling him quite a bit.
"I should probably be asking the same question," he says as he finally reaches the highest point, drawing closer to the side. He's ready to jump and not think anymore about it.
"It's really a beautiful night tonight," she walks up to him, "are you sure that it should be tonight?"
"I'm afraid I don't have much else to do," he says defeated, "I have never felt at peace living like this."
"Why doesn't anyone appreciate what we do? I'm tired of being shit on all the time. My bosses treat me like crap and I can't catch a break," she admits, "maybe it is for the best."
"Hold on, are you going to jump? Here?"
"Isn't that what you were going to do? Why don't we both jump?"
He catches a closer look, she's the same woman he saw working at the local restaurant. She wasn't the most beautiful, but he remembered admiring how brightly her eyes shined. Suddenly something changed in him, he didn't want her to leave this world.
"You shouldn't jump, neither should I. There is more for you, more for both of us."
"What makes you say that?"
She turns and looks at him and realizes he is crying, "You're not going to do it, are you?"
"I can't, I won't do it, I know there has to be a way to live. I want a new life, a better life, don't you?"
He falls to his knees with his face in his hands, "What if we helped each other find a better life? You and me together, we can get through this. I beg of you, please don't take your life."
She looks over the bridge and into the river underneath. It's calm, the water the only thing reflecting the moonlight.
"I guess it is possible," she says before slipping on a plastic bag that had been thrown onto the pavement earlier in the day. The railing isn't enough to completely catch her and she flips over, falling towards the river below. Horrified, he runs to the edge and tries to find her. Her body still descending, she finally hits the water. Staring at her lifeless body floating to the surface, he realizes that once again he is alone.
| |
[WP] Two depressed, suicidal people meet at the same bridge they plan to jump from. One begins to convince the other not to do it. | The early morning light slowly filtered through the clouds, illuminating the bridge below. The light hit both their faces, creating an eerie, surreal glow. They both stared at the distant water below.
She hovered her foot over the edge, trying to loosen her grip, trying to will herself down. He sat on the ledge near her, rocking his legs. He held a cigarette in one hand.
"There's no rush, you know," he said, almost to himself. "Can't hurt to just enjoy the sunrise for a while."
She ignored him.
"Beautiful morning," he continued, shielding his eyes from the light, "it's a shame we won't be seeing another, really."
"Can you please shut up?" she asked, gripping the railing tightly. "Can't you go off yourself somewhere else?"
"Free country," he replied. He took a drag of his cigarette, blowing out the smoke and savoring the feeling. "What reason a cute girl like you got to end things?"
She shook her head, trying to drown him out. She'd come too far. She couldn't let an idiot like this talk him out of it.
"Really though," he continued, getting up with effort. He walked towards her. "Can't be worse than the mess you'll be in at the bottom."
She glanced at him. He was handsome, in a rugged way. He was holding onto the rail, taking slow, measured steps towards her.
"Are you drunk?" she asked.
"Drunk? Heh, I wish," he replied, flicking his cigarette to the floor and stubbing it out with effort.
"Then what's wrong with you?"
He ignored her, propping himself against the railing next to her. "What's got you down?"
She stood in silence for quite some time.
"...Everything," she finally said, gazing at the horizon.
"Fair enough," he replied.
They both stared at the sunrise, as the city woke up around them.
"Tell you what," he said, turning to face her, "if I can convince you to not kill yourself, you'll go out there and try make the most of it, ok?"
She shook her head. "I've made up my mind."
He nodded. "So have I," he replied, moving to face her on the ledge. The heels of his shoes dangled off the edge.
"Careful... you'll fall," she warned.
"That's the point, isn't it?"
"...I suppose."
He stared into her eyes.
"You know," he said, balancing on the edge, "I think you've got a whole lot more to live for than you realise."
"Same for you, I'm sure," she replied softly.
"Me? Give it a few more weeks, and I won't be able to move. *Degenerative disease*, they call it. I'm a walking vegetable."
She winced, and he laughed without humor. He looked over his shoulder, the wind catching his coat and making his lose his balance. She grabbed him, steadying him.
"Thanks, love," he said as she held him. "You know, I just wanted one last good memory, before my body fell apart."
He gazed at her. "Looks like I got it."
"Tell you what," he continued, "I'll convince you. I'll convince you to live."
She stared into his eyes.
"Why?"
He kissed her. She felt a tingle run down her spine, like she hadn't felt in years. She finally felt alive.
"*So you can live for the both of us*," he whispered, pushing himself off the ledge.
*****
*****
If you didn't completely hate that, consider subscribing to [my subreddit.](https://www.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/)
I'll try add new (and old) stories every day <3 | They say that this bridge is a common place for people to end their lives. It's tall, somewhat secluded and easy enough to get to the edge. It has earned the name "Loner's Leap" in the surrounding towns because of its infamy. I wish I had a choice, but I have been wondering for years why I'm still going. One piss job after another, and I haven't made any real money. I'm nearly thirty years old with little more than a couple dollars and an old beat-up Volvo to my name. Hell, I just thought I would have it made by now, especially with the college I went through to get this far. I've been ready to do this for a long time now, I just never thought I would have the balls to do it. But, something is different about tonight, it's time to set things straight. Nobody is going to miss me anyway.
As he turns the car off, he reaches over and puts his wallet, keys and cellphone on the passenger seat. Opening the door, the cold winter wind bites at his face.
"There's no turning back," he whispers to himself.
The bridge is about 50 yards in the distance, the fog makes it hard to see past the end of the trees, but he isn't blinded by the night. The moon is full and casts a glow over the river, barely visible from where he is standing. As he approaches the bridge he can see a faint silhouette on the opposite end.
"Hello?" he quietly inquires, hoping that he's simply imagining things. There isn't a response from the silhouette and he continues to approach the center of the bridge.
"What are you doing here?" a feminine voice calls out from the direction of the silhouette, startling him quite a bit.
"I should probably be asking the same question," he says as he finally reaches the highest point, drawing closer to the side. He's ready to jump and not think anymore about it.
"It's really a beautiful night tonight," she walks up to him, "are you sure that it should be tonight?"
"I'm afraid I don't have much else to do," he says defeated, "I have never felt at peace living like this."
"Why doesn't anyone appreciate what we do? I'm tired of being shit on all the time. My bosses treat me like crap and I can't catch a break," she admits, "maybe it is for the best."
"Hold on, are you going to jump? Here?"
"Isn't that what you were going to do? Why don't we both jump?"
He catches a closer look, she's the same woman he saw working at the local restaurant. She wasn't the most beautiful, but he remembered admiring how brightly her eyes shined. Suddenly something changed in him, he didn't want her to leave this world.
"You shouldn't jump, neither should I. There is more for you, more for both of us."
"What makes you say that?"
She turns and looks at him and realizes he is crying, "You're not going to do it, are you?"
"I can't, I won't do it, I know there has to be a way to live. I want a new life, a better life, don't you?"
He falls to his knees with his face in his hands, "What if we helped each other find a better life? You and me together, we can get through this. I beg of you, please don't take your life."
She looks over the bridge and into the river underneath. It's calm, the water the only thing reflecting the moonlight.
"I guess it is possible," she says before slipping on a plastic bag that had been thrown onto the pavement earlier in the day. The railing isn't enough to completely catch her and she flips over, falling towards the river below. Horrified, he runs to the edge and tries to find her. Her body still descending, she finally hits the water. Staring at her lifeless body floating to the surface, he realizes that once again he is alone.
| |
[WP] Two depressed, suicidal people meet at the same bridge they plan to jump from. One begins to convince the other not to do it. | The early morning light slowly filtered through the clouds, illuminating the bridge below. The light hit both their faces, creating an eerie, surreal glow. They both stared at the distant water below.
She hovered her foot over the edge, trying to loosen her grip, trying to will herself down. He sat on the ledge near her, rocking his legs. He held a cigarette in one hand.
"There's no rush, you know," he said, almost to himself. "Can't hurt to just enjoy the sunrise for a while."
She ignored him.
"Beautiful morning," he continued, shielding his eyes from the light, "it's a shame we won't be seeing another, really."
"Can you please shut up?" she asked, gripping the railing tightly. "Can't you go off yourself somewhere else?"
"Free country," he replied. He took a drag of his cigarette, blowing out the smoke and savoring the feeling. "What reason a cute girl like you got to end things?"
She shook her head, trying to drown him out. She'd come too far. She couldn't let an idiot like this talk him out of it.
"Really though," he continued, getting up with effort. He walked towards her. "Can't be worse than the mess you'll be in at the bottom."
She glanced at him. He was handsome, in a rugged way. He was holding onto the rail, taking slow, measured steps towards her.
"Are you drunk?" she asked.
"Drunk? Heh, I wish," he replied, flicking his cigarette to the floor and stubbing it out with effort.
"Then what's wrong with you?"
He ignored her, propping himself against the railing next to her. "What's got you down?"
She stood in silence for quite some time.
"...Everything," she finally said, gazing at the horizon.
"Fair enough," he replied.
They both stared at the sunrise, as the city woke up around them.
"Tell you what," he said, turning to face her, "if I can convince you to not kill yourself, you'll go out there and try make the most of it, ok?"
She shook her head. "I've made up my mind."
He nodded. "So have I," he replied, moving to face her on the ledge. The heels of his shoes dangled off the edge.
"Careful... you'll fall," she warned.
"That's the point, isn't it?"
"...I suppose."
He stared into her eyes.
"You know," he said, balancing on the edge, "I think you've got a whole lot more to live for than you realise."
"Same for you, I'm sure," she replied softly.
"Me? Give it a few more weeks, and I won't be able to move. *Degenerative disease*, they call it. I'm a walking vegetable."
She winced, and he laughed without humor. He looked over his shoulder, the wind catching his coat and making his lose his balance. She grabbed him, steadying him.
"Thanks, love," he said as she held him. "You know, I just wanted one last good memory, before my body fell apart."
He gazed at her. "Looks like I got it."
"Tell you what," he continued, "I'll convince you. I'll convince you to live."
She stared into his eyes.
"Why?"
He kissed her. She felt a tingle run down her spine, like she hadn't felt in years. She finally felt alive.
"*So you can live for the both of us*," he whispered, pushing himself off the ledge.
*****
*****
If you didn't completely hate that, consider subscribing to [my subreddit.](https://www.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/)
I'll try add new (and old) stories every day <3 | The second car came to a stop on the side of the bridge. A man in a slightly creased brown suit stepped out of the vehicle. His hair was slightly too long and fell over his ears, and he probably could have shaved that morning but decided against it. The top button of his shirt was undone, and his shoes were scuffed. Despite that, he looked content. At peace.
As he walked toward the railing, he took off his name badge, and dropped it on the ground. Maybe someone could find that later. Maybe it'd help them figure it out.
There was someone else at the railing, and he knew who it was. He made his arrival clear, dragging his feet ever so slightly on the beaten tarmac. He stopped, planting his hands on the railing and taking in the view. He didn't need to look at the other man's face.
"Hey John. Here again?"
"Paul."
The two men took in the view. The sun was just setting, glinting off the glass of skyscrapers in the distance. There was silence for a while.
"Cigarette?" Asked John, reaching into his jacket pocket.
"No, I quit - Victoria said it was slowly killing me. She'll be expecting me home any minute now," replied Paul, continuing to look straight ahead.
There was a long silence. He continued, slowly, "I don't know how I'd explain it to her. This just seems easier."
"I know," came the response. "You should probably at least say a proper goodbye to her though. You wouldn't want to go without doing that."
"Yeah, you're right."
The two men stood silently for a while longer before Paul slid his hands off the railing, slowly turned around, and walked back to his car. He picked up his name badge, and straightened his hair. He messaged his wife, telling her he'd be home soon.
As he drove away, he didn't see John climb over the railing.
| |
[WP] You did the right thing, but you took it way too far. | Sam looked at his friend, bleeding onto the pavement.
"Why did you shoot me, you bastard?" Tony cried, as he lay there, looking at the sky.
Sam did nothing but stare for a while. Finally he answered. "You see," he said, with a pause which Tony did not appreciate in the slightest, "I needed someone to die so that I could be involved in the investigation. If I'm involved in this investigation and the bullet is traced to a police weapon, I may be able to prove there is corruption in the department. I didn't use my weapon, I was able to steal Bob's gun, he never seems to notice anything, which will hopefully not incriminate me. The investigation will eventually lead its way into the upper divisions of our police force, which will allow me to expose Chief Donahue and send him to prison for what he did to us."
Tony stared at him for a while. "Well, what about me?"
"You die."
"Oh," Tony said, as he finally lost consciousness.
Sam walked away, got back into his car, and drove a safe distance away. He waited until he heard a call come in over the radio that there was a dead man found on the side of the road. Sam turned on his lights and drove back to the scene of the crime.
When he finally arrived, he radioed back, in tears, saying that it was his partner, Tony, on paternity leave for his newborn son. He choked into the radio, "I'll find whoever did this, if it's the last thing I do."
**Well, that was interesting. Hope someone out there enjoys it. If not, that's okay too, just stop trying to throw things at me when I walk down the street. Thanks for reading!** | A man walks into a police station with a backpack dangling from one loose fist. He's clean-shaven and his eyes are clear. There are no overt signs of intoxication or insanity. He smiles gently to the officer behind the counter.
"I need to report a rape," he says, placing his free hand, palm-down, on the countertop. It would have taken a very sharp eye to detect that it was trembling faintly. He does not stop smiling.
The woman makes a small sound of surprise, but recovers quickly.
"Of...of course," she replies, sympathy flickering across her face, "You'll need to give a statement to a detective, and..."
She glances around the empty lobby, as if to ensure no one has suddenly appeared to eavesdrop. When her eyes fall back on the man, she hesitates.
"...there are some forms you'll have to fill out. How long ago did this happen?"
"Three hours ago," he says, as her hand drifts toward the telephone to page the detective that would apparently be taking his statement, "Listen, I don't want to fill anything out."
"I understand," replies the officer, because she *does*. But that doesn't affect due process. She momentarily withdraws her hand from the phone.
She continues:
"I know this is difficult. But in order to help you, we need to know what happened. We need everything documented."
"I don't need your help," the man answers, his smile fading, now, "I just want the report of the assault on record."
"...it will be. And I promise, it will be quick."
"No, it won't," says the man, "It'll be one form that leads to five more and then another dozen on top of that. Interrogations. Humiliation."
Something shines behind her eyes -- for a moment, she feels triumphant. It feels *good*, in these instances, to assure someone that they are wrong. These are the moments she's glad she chose to be a cop.
"What makes you so sure?" She asks, keeping her tone gentle.
He sighs, and hefts the backpack onto the counter. It thuds heavily, like a bowling ball wrapped in wet rags.
"Because I also need to report a murder."
| |
[WP] You did the right thing, but you took it way too far. | Sam looked at his friend, bleeding onto the pavement.
"Why did you shoot me, you bastard?" Tony cried, as he lay there, looking at the sky.
Sam did nothing but stare for a while. Finally he answered. "You see," he said, with a pause which Tony did not appreciate in the slightest, "I needed someone to die so that I could be involved in the investigation. If I'm involved in this investigation and the bullet is traced to a police weapon, I may be able to prove there is corruption in the department. I didn't use my weapon, I was able to steal Bob's gun, he never seems to notice anything, which will hopefully not incriminate me. The investigation will eventually lead its way into the upper divisions of our police force, which will allow me to expose Chief Donahue and send him to prison for what he did to us."
Tony stared at him for a while. "Well, what about me?"
"You die."
"Oh," Tony said, as he finally lost consciousness.
Sam walked away, got back into his car, and drove a safe distance away. He waited until he heard a call come in over the radio that there was a dead man found on the side of the road. Sam turned on his lights and drove back to the scene of the crime.
When he finally arrived, he radioed back, in tears, saying that it was his partner, Tony, on paternity leave for his newborn son. He choked into the radio, "I'll find whoever did this, if it's the last thing I do."
**Well, that was interesting. Hope someone out there enjoys it. If not, that's okay too, just stop trying to throw things at me when I walk down the street. Thanks for reading!** | Once, when I was much younger and much much stupider, I gave a crying stranger a copy of my car key because they told me they locked their keys in their car and we had the same keys.
Needless to say, my car got stolen.
Not my smartest moment. | |
[WP] You're a flight crew on a plane and you think one of the passengers might be turning into a zombie. | "Something's wrong with 49C," Cindy said.
I was tossing trays of frozen meals into ovens. "What's up?"
Cindy twirled a finger in her hair. "He's gone all pale and shaky. The woman in 49A asked if he needed any medication and he said he doesn't. The woman in 49A says he keeps scratching his arm, and that where he's scratching his shirt is all red."
"Can you grab the meals out of that trolley?" I asked.
Cindy crouched by the trolley and passed meals up to me. "What are we supposed to do if he's sick but doesn't want any help?"
I wiped the sweat out of my hairline with the oven mitts. "If he doesn't want help, that's that. We're flight attendants, not doctors."
A ding went off, and the call button indicator turned blue.
Cindy's knees popped when she stood. "I'll get it."
"Thanks," I said. "Second meal is in twenty minutes. Please come back and help me when you're done."
Once I'd got the ovens full and heating the meals, I switched on the coffee machine and the water boiler. Tea bags went into hot water jugs. I grabbed the drink trays I'd prepared earlier and lugged them onto the meal trolleys.
"He's really not doing well," Cindy said.
"Grab some of those meal boxes, would you?"
She handed them to me and I stacked them in a meal trolley.
"His eyes have gone nearly white and there's foam around his mouth."
"Shit," I said.
"I know," she said.
"No, I just realized we have the bad yoghurt today. I was hoping to take some of the good stuff home for my girlfriend."
"Oh." She handed me more boxes. "What should I do about 49C?"
"Give him another blanket and a cup of warm water. Whatever."
She filled a cup, grabbed a blanket, and went back into the cabin.
I poured a full pot of coffee into a jug, restarted the coffee machine, and did the same with a pot of hot water and a tea jug. I was about to start in on the trays of sugar, lemon, and creamer when an oven beeped. I hit the beeper, released the steam, and stacked the hot meals. All through this the other ovens finished heating and had to be debeeped and desteamed.
A flurry of dings went off overhead. The call indicator light went blue. I considered going out to check on things, but there were still over a hundred hot meals to sort, not to mention the bread. Cindy could handle the calls.
I'd filled one trolley with hot meals when I heard somebody shouting, "Excuse me! Flight attendant, excuse me!"
I rolled my eyes. I could picture the woman already -- short haircut dyed red and blonde, expression on her face like she'd just smelled something, and a precious little boy named Brayden or Carter.
"Excuse me we need you out here!"
I had my hands full of hot meals. I called out, "Ma'am, if you need something, please hit the call button or come back here. I'm preparing the second meal."
"I did hit the call button," she said.
"Then please wait for our cabin attendant to serve you."
Other people in the cabin were shouting. I hadn't realized they could be so frustrated with Cindy's speed of service. She and I would have to talk about that.
"She's," the woman said. "The flight attendant girl is..."
One of the hot meals slipped out of my hands. Its contents splatted across the floor. I set the rest of the meals down, grabbed a hot towel, and set to wiping it all up. "Ma'am, I really am sorry, but it's a madhouse back here. You'll have to come see me if you need something."
The sound I heard then from the cabin was one I'd heard only once before on a plane. It was halfway between a human yell and dog's bark. Other people screamed. As I scraped up the mess of eggs, I said to myself with a nod, "And that's the second time somebody has shit themself on one of my flights. Wonderful." I chewed my lower lip. "Tourists are the worst."
"You've got to get out there!" The woman had come to the galley. Her poorly dyed, poorly cut hair was in even more disarray than earlier, and her eyes were wild, darting this way and that. She breathed hard.
I dumped the mess into a garbage and grabbed another stack of meals. "Ma'am, I'm really deeply sorry, but I've got ten minutes until mealtime and ton of things to do still. Is there anything I can get you here?"
"You don't understand," she said. "One of the passengers..."
"These things happen, ma'am. I'm sure all the passenger needs is some privacy and a bit of clean-up time in the washroom."
"He bit the girl flight attendant."
Someone in the cabin yelled, "Grab his arms! Watch his mouth!"
I grabbed the big bag of little bread bags and set about untying the finicky little bags. To get them open I had to twist the ends of the knotted openings and force the ends through the knot. "These things happen, ma'am," I said.
She grabbed my shoulder. "Are you even listening?"
I paused in the untying. "Ma'am, please don't touch me."
She remembered herself and removed her hand. "I'm sorry," she said.
I undid a bag, dumped the breads onto an oven tray, and grabbed a second bag. "That's fine, ma'am. But please return to your seat. We'll have food and drinks for you in a moment."
"You're not listening," she said, but she cast her eyes downward. "This is a nightmare."
"Not a nightmare," I said. "Just a job."
A few minutes later, once I'd prepared the trolleys, I rolled one into the cabin, then went to see where Cindy had got to. She really was being slow today.
What I saw in the cabin will remain with me forever. Every passenger lay across their seats. None of them moved. There was no sign of Cindy.
I chewed the inside of my cheek, then shrugged, returned to the galley, and said to myself, "Can't feed them if they're all sleeping." I rested my cheek on my shoulder and soon nodded off as well.
*****
r/TravisTea | It's the fifth time he's been called in the last half an hour. He sighs, navigates his way down the narrow aisles, forces himself to put on a big smile, stops at seat 42A, and leans towards the woman sitting next to the window next to two empty seats.
"How may I help you ma'am?" He asks, voice emptily overenthusiastic, only slightly audible above the roar of the engines.
There's a pause as the woman takes a second to respond, her head turning stiffly, her face slowly rotating into view. A huge smile on her face.
His breath catches in his chest, but he forces himself to keep a neutral to courteous expression. *Probably just a little airsick.*
"I'm a little hungry." She says with a slight sickly hiss in her voice.
He swallows, and nods, eyes glancing up and down the half empty plane. The other passengers are either dozing off or staring resolutely at flashing movies and TV shows on their screens.
"We can offer you some crackers, or a pack of peanuts. Which would you like?" He asks, chest tightening as a slightly pungent odour hits his nose.
*Gotta remind Jane to check on the bathroom.*
She stares at him for a long time, almost boring a hole in his skull. The hairs stand up on his neck and he feels the urge to bolt away. His hand tightens on the top of the seat and he stays still, maintaining his wide smile. She continues to watch him, tilting her head slightly, bony hands twitching in her lap.
"I'll get you some crackers." He says hurriedly when she doesn't respond. He can feel her gaze following him as he heads down the plane, rummaging through the cupboards for some food.
"Hey." Jane appears beside him, fixing her hair into a ponytail. She pauses when he looks up at her. "What's wrong? You look like you're going to throw up. Can't be getting airsick can you?"
He shakes his head and straightens up, three packets of crackers in his hands. "You might want to check on the bathroom. Something smells really odd around there."
"I just did half an hour ago. It's fine. Surprisingly clean, actually." She answers nonchalantly. "Okay, I don't know what's gotten into you, but if you're going to puke, don't do it around me. Do you need to sit down?"
He shakes his head again and makes his way towards 42A, stomach turning. The smell grows stronger around him and he darts glances all around but nobody else seems to be noticing anything out of the ordinary. A baby begins crying several rows down. He continues walking and gets to 42A and holds out the crackers.
"Ma'am?" He begins tentatively.
She straightens up and turns to look at him again and he almost jumps backwards. Her appearance is somehow much more pronounced than before, and he shakes his head, trying to steady himself, but she sits there as clear as day in front of him.
"I'm not interested in...crackers." She replies slowly, each syllable heavy and deliberate and slurring in the mouth. Her hollow eyes search him hungrily and his skin begins to crawl. Her mouth turns into a crooked, yellowing smile and the smell hits him again, harder than ever, seeping into his bloodstream and making his eyes water and nose run. She begins to lean forward towards him and he drops the crackers at his feet without a single glance back and half runs down the aisle towards the front of the plane, nearly crashing into Jane.
"Ian - Ian. Slow down. Are you sure you're alright?" She grabs his shoulders, eyes wide, and he shakes his head, his breathing heavy and erratic.
"Uh, the person - thing - at 42A - do we allow, uh, I dunno, corpses on planes?" He asks, sweat breaking out all over his face. The image of her hollow gaze and off-coloured pale skin grows in his vision until it's all there is, and he slides down to sit on the ground. "Okay okay. I don't know what's happening to me. I think that lady at 42A is - uh - dying? Decomposing?"
"What are you talking about?" Jane asks, concern flickering through her eyes.
"Just go to 42A. You'll know what I'm talking about. Jane, you gotta tell me what the hell is going on. Tell me I'm not imagining things." Ian grabs a bottle of orange juice and sticks his nose to it, trying to get rid of the smell in his nostrils and mouth.
Jane gives him an exasperated look and pushes open the curtain, heading further back in the plane.
He rips open a pack of crackers, dumping it into his mouth to drown out the terrible building taste.
Ten minutes of orange juice and crackers later and Jane hasn't returned. Ian sits there for several more moments, heart beating rapidly underneath his chest. A wave of dread washes over him but he takes a deep breath and gets to his feet, peeking around the curtain. Her tall stature and bright red hair is nowhere to be seen and he bites his lip, his chest tight and pained. *She's fine.* Inhale, exhale. His gaze darts towards the bathroom sign near 42A. Occupied. His breath unexplainably catches in his chest and he's frozen to the spot, resisting the urge to run away - to where? Off the plane? To the cockpit? - but unable to move forward.
The seatbelt sign turns on and the sound makes him jump.
*This is ridiculous. You're dehydrated and imagining things.* He straightens up and inhales, slowly making his way down the aisle. *Nothing is wrong. You've probably just been stuck on this damned flight for too long.*
His heart still thuds in his throat but he maintains a straight face, nodding politely when he makes eye contact with one of the passengers. Jane is still nowhere to be seen.
He keeps walking and reaches the 42nd row. And there's nobody sitting at 42A. A chill runs through him and he swallows his fear, leaning forward to examine the messy blankets left there. That's when the smell truly hits him - a smell that is undeniably of decaying meat. He claps one hand over his mouth as his gaze travels towards something on the blankets and he turns it over to see what it is -
"What the hell?" He half yelps, leaping backwards, nearly falling onto the lap of a sleeping passenger. It cannot possibly be what he thinks it is. None of this is happening. None of this is real.
His heart rate rockets through the roof and he pounds on the bathroom door, feeling his last meal ready to re-emerge out of his mouth.
The occupied sign flashes once into green and the door creaks slowly open. A single, bony hand curls out, the previous odour of decay hitting him full force, overwhelming his senses. Before he can run the disfigured hand grabs his shirt and pulls him into the tiny cramped bathroom. The door slams shut and locks behind him, and the last things he sees, in order, are the leering face of the passenger at 42A - unmistakably long dead, but still animated - and Jane's flock of red hair on the moving, newly dead body behind it. | |
[WP] You're a flight crew on a plane and you think one of the passengers might be turning into a zombie. | "Jesse, we've been getting multiple complaints about a man in seat 13A. Mind checking that out for me?"
Jesse sighed, fiddling nervously with her perfectly kempt bun of auburn air. "That's not the creepy old dude, is it?"
Her Captain shrugged his shoulders, fixing her with a poorly feigned look of sympathy. The sort that gave off the impression of, 'I don't know, and frankly, Honey, I don't care.' Or at least that was how she interpreted it to be. The job as a whole had just left her very cynical of people in general. It appeared that flying just brought out the worst in humanity; every stain became a cause for complaint, every spot of turbulence the threat of impending fucking doom.
She quickly travelled down the aisle, moving politely out of the way of a man who seemed to be in a race to reach the toilet with another person. He barged past her, knocking her into the chair of another attendant, Jesse spilling his drink over his legs. He fixed her with a furious glare, although a moment of intense staring did little to quell the situation. Playing the better person, as it was, she quickly regained her composure, her lips curling into a sickeningly sweet smile in an attempt to conceal her anger.
"We'll refund that, I just have something do deal with right now."
With the situation at least partially defused, Jesse quickly exhaled from her nose, flattering the crinkles on her dress. "I hate this job," she muttered.
Counting out the seats one by one, she eventually approached 13A to be greeted by a single person resting over all three seats on the aisle, splayed out across them. He was twitching violently, and Jesse could see his eye erratically blinking as he looked to her.
"You ok, Sir? Do you have any allergies you forgot to inform us about?" Jesse approached, resting a hand on the man's shoulder. Abruptly, he thrashed out, snapping at her, his maw opening to reveal rows of rotten, yellow teeth. She swiftly retracted her hand, staring at him with wide eyes as he reclined back into his seat, breathing heavily as his eyes darted about the area. It was almost reminiscent of the behaviour of a feral dog, lashing out at those impeaching on its territory before relaxing at the withdrawal of said incursion.
"*Flesh...*" He -- *it* -- drawled, its tone the slurred and isolated tone of a drunk. He certainly looked drunk.
Jesse blinked, carefully retreating away from him. "Well, that'd certainly be a problem given that the aisle is full of flesh. Is there anything we could do to help you with it? Maybe get you an ice pack, dearie?"
"*I want.... give me.... fleshhhh,*" he drawled out the last word, his eyes lolling about lazily. It was almost comedic to bear witness to.
"Darling, generally you don't want what you're allergic to. That's not how antibodies work." Leaning away, she spoke into her ear bud in a hushed voice. "Captain, it appears we might have a Code Z on our hands."
"Damn," his voice crackled in transmission. "It appears the April Fools joke actually ended up helping. Make sure to ensure he's actually one and not just a druggie. And remember your customer treatment training course. You hear me?"
"Loud and clear, Jesse out." Jesse regarded the creature convulsing in the seat before her, saliva dripping out of its mouth in thin rivulets. A dainty hand reaching forward, she gripped the turtleneck the man was wearing, pulling it down to reveal the flesh was torn and flayed. The work of a zombie, no doubt. She was certain of it now.
"Captain, I can confirm the target is a zombie. Approval for disposal?"
After a brief silence, the Captain responded. "Approved."
Jesse reached to her side, pulling out the baton resting there and pressing the end to the zombie's temple. "Welcome to United Airlines."
Without a moment's hesitation she slammed it down, an agonising squelch sounding as a chunk of flesh fell from the zombie's head. Jesse brought her arm back, preparing another swing that slammed directly into the zombie's nose, snapping its head back and tearing its neck backwards. Blood spurted freely over Jesse and the now screaming passenger in front, but Jesse didn't care much. The zombie collapsed forward in a pool of blood, and Jesse slammed her heel into its skull, causing it to explode grandly in a rain of organs and viscera. She half expected coins and experience points to follow suite as she stood, panting over the corpse with her baton still gripped tightly in her hand.
"And that is our customer policy, don't you forget it," she said proudly, dusting her hands off. The rest of the aisle cheered raucously at the victory, bar the person in front of the zombie, who was still squealing as she tried to maintain as much dignity as possible whilst removing organs from her dress.
"Good job, Jesse. I'm proud of you for remembering our policy," the Captain said through her earpiece, causing her smile to widen. A tear of joy dripped down her cheek. "*We're* proud of you."
-----
/r/coffeeandwriting
| It's the fifth time he's been called in the last half an hour. He sighs, navigates his way down the narrow aisles, forces himself to put on a big smile, stops at seat 42A, and leans towards the woman sitting next to the window next to two empty seats.
"How may I help you ma'am?" He asks, voice emptily overenthusiastic, only slightly audible above the roar of the engines.
There's a pause as the woman takes a second to respond, her head turning stiffly, her face slowly rotating into view. A huge smile on her face.
His breath catches in his chest, but he forces himself to keep a neutral to courteous expression. *Probably just a little airsick.*
"I'm a little hungry." She says with a slight sickly hiss in her voice.
He swallows, and nods, eyes glancing up and down the half empty plane. The other passengers are either dozing off or staring resolutely at flashing movies and TV shows on their screens.
"We can offer you some crackers, or a pack of peanuts. Which would you like?" He asks, chest tightening as a slightly pungent odour hits his nose.
*Gotta remind Jane to check on the bathroom.*
She stares at him for a long time, almost boring a hole in his skull. The hairs stand up on his neck and he feels the urge to bolt away. His hand tightens on the top of the seat and he stays still, maintaining his wide smile. She continues to watch him, tilting her head slightly, bony hands twitching in her lap.
"I'll get you some crackers." He says hurriedly when she doesn't respond. He can feel her gaze following him as he heads down the plane, rummaging through the cupboards for some food.
"Hey." Jane appears beside him, fixing her hair into a ponytail. She pauses when he looks up at her. "What's wrong? You look like you're going to throw up. Can't be getting airsick can you?"
He shakes his head and straightens up, three packets of crackers in his hands. "You might want to check on the bathroom. Something smells really odd around there."
"I just did half an hour ago. It's fine. Surprisingly clean, actually." She answers nonchalantly. "Okay, I don't know what's gotten into you, but if you're going to puke, don't do it around me. Do you need to sit down?"
He shakes his head again and makes his way towards 42A, stomach turning. The smell grows stronger around him and he darts glances all around but nobody else seems to be noticing anything out of the ordinary. A baby begins crying several rows down. He continues walking and gets to 42A and holds out the crackers.
"Ma'am?" He begins tentatively.
She straightens up and turns to look at him again and he almost jumps backwards. Her appearance is somehow much more pronounced than before, and he shakes his head, trying to steady himself, but she sits there as clear as day in front of him.
"I'm not interested in...crackers." She replies slowly, each syllable heavy and deliberate and slurring in the mouth. Her hollow eyes search him hungrily and his skin begins to crawl. Her mouth turns into a crooked, yellowing smile and the smell hits him again, harder than ever, seeping into his bloodstream and making his eyes water and nose run. She begins to lean forward towards him and he drops the crackers at his feet without a single glance back and half runs down the aisle towards the front of the plane, nearly crashing into Jane.
"Ian - Ian. Slow down. Are you sure you're alright?" She grabs his shoulders, eyes wide, and he shakes his head, his breathing heavy and erratic.
"Uh, the person - thing - at 42A - do we allow, uh, I dunno, corpses on planes?" He asks, sweat breaking out all over his face. The image of her hollow gaze and off-coloured pale skin grows in his vision until it's all there is, and he slides down to sit on the ground. "Okay okay. I don't know what's happening to me. I think that lady at 42A is - uh - dying? Decomposing?"
"What are you talking about?" Jane asks, concern flickering through her eyes.
"Just go to 42A. You'll know what I'm talking about. Jane, you gotta tell me what the hell is going on. Tell me I'm not imagining things." Ian grabs a bottle of orange juice and sticks his nose to it, trying to get rid of the smell in his nostrils and mouth.
Jane gives him an exasperated look and pushes open the curtain, heading further back in the plane.
He rips open a pack of crackers, dumping it into his mouth to drown out the terrible building taste.
Ten minutes of orange juice and crackers later and Jane hasn't returned. Ian sits there for several more moments, heart beating rapidly underneath his chest. A wave of dread washes over him but he takes a deep breath and gets to his feet, peeking around the curtain. Her tall stature and bright red hair is nowhere to be seen and he bites his lip, his chest tight and pained. *She's fine.* Inhale, exhale. His gaze darts towards the bathroom sign near 42A. Occupied. His breath unexplainably catches in his chest and he's frozen to the spot, resisting the urge to run away - to where? Off the plane? To the cockpit? - but unable to move forward.
The seatbelt sign turns on and the sound makes him jump.
*This is ridiculous. You're dehydrated and imagining things.* He straightens up and inhales, slowly making his way down the aisle. *Nothing is wrong. You've probably just been stuck on this damned flight for too long.*
His heart still thuds in his throat but he maintains a straight face, nodding politely when he makes eye contact with one of the passengers. Jane is still nowhere to be seen.
He keeps walking and reaches the 42nd row. And there's nobody sitting at 42A. A chill runs through him and he swallows his fear, leaning forward to examine the messy blankets left there. That's when the smell truly hits him - a smell that is undeniably of decaying meat. He claps one hand over his mouth as his gaze travels towards something on the blankets and he turns it over to see what it is -
"What the hell?" He half yelps, leaping backwards, nearly falling onto the lap of a sleeping passenger. It cannot possibly be what he thinks it is. None of this is happening. None of this is real.
His heart rate rockets through the roof and he pounds on the bathroom door, feeling his last meal ready to re-emerge out of his mouth.
The occupied sign flashes once into green and the door creaks slowly open. A single, bony hand curls out, the previous odour of decay hitting him full force, overwhelming his senses. Before he can run the disfigured hand grabs his shirt and pulls him into the tiny cramped bathroom. The door slams shut and locks behind him, and the last things he sees, in order, are the leering face of the passenger at 42A - unmistakably long dead, but still animated - and Jane's flock of red hair on the moving, newly dead body behind it. | |
[WP] In WWII: After saving a fugitive who turns out to be a witch, she blesses you with an odd protection spell. Now, any projectile, explosive, blade, or blunt instrument about to strike you changes into cheesecake instead. | My men were starving, surrounded in Bastogne, freezing to death. We were down to our last clips of ammunition. The situation was dire. A mere three hundred yards across a frozen wasteland, the Krauts lay in wait for us, MG42s and K98Ks at the ready, covered and concealed with a forest. "Top, I'm st-tarving," Private McCluskey sputtered around chattering teeth. As First Sergeant, I had am obligation to my men. I had wanted to hold on a little longer, to let Patton and his men come up and relieve us to beat back the bulge the Krauts had created. I'd have to tip my hand, to show my power. My men would never look at me the same.
"Don't worry, McCluskey, I'll be back in a minute with enough food for all of you."
"Thanks, Top." He mumbled feebly. Standing up, I pulled back the bolt on my Tommy gun. I strode purposely forward, past frozen trees, past foxholes with the dead and the dying laying frozen. At the treeline, a young, red haired Captain held out his arm.
"Go back to your foxhole, First Sergeant." His command was given gently, but with authority. He was used to getting his way.
"With respect due, sir, I cannot. I must do my duty for my men."
"Your duty is to lead, not to die. Go back to your foxhole, or face court martial."
"I will face the consequences, Captain." I ducked under his arm and strode out, my brown leather jump boots crunching through the top layer of snow. My slight figure, draped in olive drab fatigues, was impossible for the machinegunner across the expanse to miss. Small slices of cheesecake appeared around me; a moment later, I heard the ripping of his MG42 cranking off bullets at fourteen hundred rounds per minute. I raised my Thompson and fired a burst back. The bullets never had a prayer of landing, but I fired anyway.
A moment later, more cheesecake. One slice hit me square in the face. Wiping it off, I licked my fingers greedily, my freezing saliva on my fingers be damned. "IS THAT ALL YOU'VE GOT? SEND ME MORE! SEND SOME SCREAMING MIMIS! SEND SOME EIGHTY-EIGHTS!" The crisp air carried my bellowing voice practically to Berlin. Sure enough, a moment later, I heard larger pieces land. Jerry was firing mortars at me. I strode forward, now facing a fusillade of decadent desserts flying from small arms and mortar fire. These cakes would have cost a king's ransom of ration tickets back in Milwaukee. "MMM, GOOD! MORE!" I roared, slowly walking forward. I heard an engine turn over. They were sending out a tank. Poor bastards.
From behind its cover, a King Tiger heavy tank rolled out, its turret traversing to me. I stood, defiant, two middle fingers held high. A puff of smoke belched from the muzzle, and then came the thump of a rather large cheesecake hitting me in the chest. It was the size of a manhole cover, and a foot thick. Climbing back to my feet, the tank charged. I charged back, screaming like a banshee, a seeming madman welcoming death. The tank's treads kicked up snow as it roared towards me. He was going to try to run me down.
Poor bastards. As the tank loomed ever larger, I stopped running, despite instinct telling me to run for the hills. "COME GET SOME!" I bellowed. I could smell the exhaust fumes now, and within an inch of me, it transformed into a giant cheesecake with a comical "pop!"
Beside a wrecked Jeep a few hundred yards away, I found the hood, blown off the vehicle. Using it as a sled, I dragged as much of my bounty as I could back to my brothers. The Captain who had threatened me with court martial stood, mouth agape. "West Point didn't mention a damned thing about this," he muttered.
Our "relief" came a week later. General Patton had run his tanks non-stop to get to us. As luck would have it, he was standing in the turret of the first tank in the column, and I happened to be there. After saluting Old Blood and Guts, I clambered up the tank with my helmet under my arm, using it as a bowl for a massive cheesecake. "General, you look starved. Care for some cheesecake?"
| "And that's the story of how your Pappy survived the big, scary war," said the old man, tucking his grandchildren into bed.
"We can't go to bed now, Pappy! What if the witch comes, and gets us!"
"She wouldn't want to hurt not one of the hairs on y'all's heads. She'll protect y'all, like she protected y'all's Pappy, and turn any monsters into cheesecake! Now get some sleep."
The old man switched the bedroom light off, and turned to leave. He pulled the door shut, but left it slightly ajar, allowing light from the hallway to seep in. Despite his best efforts, the stairs still creaked under his feet.
"Are the kids asleep now, honey?" asked the old man's wife, as he stepped into the kitchen.
"Yes, dear. I told them about how I survived the war," said the old man, pulling the refrigerator door open.
"Probably for the 1000th time. I hope that sweet tooth of yours didn't get passed down!"
"Couldn't help it this time," said the old man, as he grabbed a box from the fridge. "I've been thinking about eating this cheesecake all day!"
| |
[WP] In WWII: After saving a fugitive who turns out to be a witch, she blesses you with an odd protection spell. Now, any projectile, explosive, blade, or blunt instrument about to strike you changes into cheesecake instead. | My men were starving, surrounded in Bastogne, freezing to death. We were down to our last clips of ammunition. The situation was dire. A mere three hundred yards across a frozen wasteland, the Krauts lay in wait for us, MG42s and K98Ks at the ready, covered and concealed with a forest. "Top, I'm st-tarving," Private McCluskey sputtered around chattering teeth. As First Sergeant, I had am obligation to my men. I had wanted to hold on a little longer, to let Patton and his men come up and relieve us to beat back the bulge the Krauts had created. I'd have to tip my hand, to show my power. My men would never look at me the same.
"Don't worry, McCluskey, I'll be back in a minute with enough food for all of you."
"Thanks, Top." He mumbled feebly. Standing up, I pulled back the bolt on my Tommy gun. I strode purposely forward, past frozen trees, past foxholes with the dead and the dying laying frozen. At the treeline, a young, red haired Captain held out his arm.
"Go back to your foxhole, First Sergeant." His command was given gently, but with authority. He was used to getting his way.
"With respect due, sir, I cannot. I must do my duty for my men."
"Your duty is to lead, not to die. Go back to your foxhole, or face court martial."
"I will face the consequences, Captain." I ducked under his arm and strode out, my brown leather jump boots crunching through the top layer of snow. My slight figure, draped in olive drab fatigues, was impossible for the machinegunner across the expanse to miss. Small slices of cheesecake appeared around me; a moment later, I heard the ripping of his MG42 cranking off bullets at fourteen hundred rounds per minute. I raised my Thompson and fired a burst back. The bullets never had a prayer of landing, but I fired anyway.
A moment later, more cheesecake. One slice hit me square in the face. Wiping it off, I licked my fingers greedily, my freezing saliva on my fingers be damned. "IS THAT ALL YOU'VE GOT? SEND ME MORE! SEND SOME SCREAMING MIMIS! SEND SOME EIGHTY-EIGHTS!" The crisp air carried my bellowing voice practically to Berlin. Sure enough, a moment later, I heard larger pieces land. Jerry was firing mortars at me. I strode forward, now facing a fusillade of decadent desserts flying from small arms and mortar fire. These cakes would have cost a king's ransom of ration tickets back in Milwaukee. "MMM, GOOD! MORE!" I roared, slowly walking forward. I heard an engine turn over. They were sending out a tank. Poor bastards.
From behind its cover, a King Tiger heavy tank rolled out, its turret traversing to me. I stood, defiant, two middle fingers held high. A puff of smoke belched from the muzzle, and then came the thump of a rather large cheesecake hitting me in the chest. It was the size of a manhole cover, and a foot thick. Climbing back to my feet, the tank charged. I charged back, screaming like a banshee, a seeming madman welcoming death. The tank's treads kicked up snow as it roared towards me. He was going to try to run me down.
Poor bastards. As the tank loomed ever larger, I stopped running, despite instinct telling me to run for the hills. "COME GET SOME!" I bellowed. I could smell the exhaust fumes now, and within an inch of me, it transformed into a giant cheesecake with a comical "pop!"
Beside a wrecked Jeep a few hundred yards away, I found the hood, blown off the vehicle. Using it as a sled, I dragged as much of my bounty as I could back to my brothers. The Captain who had threatened me with court martial stood, mouth agape. "West Point didn't mention a damned thing about this," he muttered.
Our "relief" came a week later. General Patton had run his tanks non-stop to get to us. As luck would have it, he was standing in the turret of the first tank in the column, and I happened to be there. After saluting Old Blood and Guts, I clambered up the tank with my helmet under my arm, using it as a bowl for a massive cheesecake. "General, you look starved. Care for some cheesecake?"
| Let me start this off by saying I FUCKING HATE CHEESECAKE. Absolutely despise it.
That damn woman knows it too. It's probably why she used that protection spell, thought it would be funny or something.
I suppose I'm getting ahead of myself. All of this started for two reasons. WWII, and Tamara fucking Drasin. Why Tamara Drasin you ask? Simple, she made terrible music, more specifically, "I'll Be Seeing You". Worst song I have ever heard.
"So, I walk walking through town, minding my own business. When this woman walks by, accompanied by two men, she looks nervous and she is humming the god forsaken song. Knowing what I know now, I suppose I can't blame her, it was probably the only way she could have caught my attention."
"Hey, you! Could you stop humming that fucking song!" I shouted at her. Admittedly I may have been been slightly (or more than slightly) drunk at the time.
"Mind your own business, Drunk." The first man said, spitting on my shoes.
"What is with you NAZI FUCKERS AND SPITTING?" I shout as I throat punch the first man. He drops. At this point the second man is moving toward me, I dart forward, grabbing him by the collar and effectively dropping him by throwing all of my force into one kick. Which slams into the front of his knee cap. The second man screams in pain as I let go."
"Thank you so much." The woman said.
"Whatever, I only hit him because he called me a drunk. Now stop singing that god damned song." I respond, turning and walking away from the scene. Then I hear her whisper something. Now I realize that it was a chant.
Since then. Any time someone tries to hurt me, doesn't matter what the weapon is, as long as they have the intent to harm me, it turns into Cheesecake. This has saved my life countless times and gotten me kicked out of The White House, The Pentagon, my Grandmothers house and many bars. Mostly due to Guns, Bullets, Chairs, Knives and even arms turning into Cheesecake.
"And that's it, son. That's how I met your mother." | |
I hope its not too vague, first writing prompt ^^ enjoy
Thank you all so much for the responses it's so much fun to read them :) | [WP] Time freezes for everyone around you each time your life is in danger, leaving only you able to move until you are no longer in danger. One day time freezes, but you can't figure out why, until.. | I remember the first time I was aware of it.
I was five, and the neighbours' kid was rushing towards me on his bike. I hated him ever since. He was about to crash right into me, when time froze. I remember feeling petrified, but not as much as you would expect. Perhaps knowing what was about to transpire mitigated the feeling.
There were those two kids playing tag, and that lady in the orange skirt. There they were, frozen in time, as if I were looking at a photograph from the inside out.
Once the shock wore off, I stepped aside; Jake barely missed me, scraping my arm in the process. Later he told my mom he didn't see me. I know he lied. So did my mom, I think she hated him too ever since.
I remember when I was about to slip in the water park; seeing those glistening drops of water, from kids splashing around, frozen in the air. It was quite beautiful. Or the time where only a tiny gap of air stood between my eye and a giant wasp. I'm allergic, so the doctors said.
It was always a few seconds, sometimes a few short minutes, and it was all resolved. I would get to safety, and time moved on.
But not today.
Time froze, and there was nothing I could do about it. My body was too weak. My mom was stood there, next to my bed, frozen like an angelic sculpture, like in those old art books. *I can't remove the cancer out of me* I yelled, but time held me tight in his protective arms. So tight, I couldn't breathe, but not tight enough to squeeze me into the next life. *How do I get out of this?* I was in constant pain, but the end looked so far away.
I used every ounce of will power I had to drag myself to the side of the bed, I wanted to be closer to my mom. That's when I saw the tear; and my heart skipped a beat when I noticed the syringe.
I smiled looking up at my mom. *I'm glad you're my mom* I said. I wonder if she heard me in those frozen moments.
I closed my eyes, and concentrated really hard, trying to will time to move again. I swear I could see the tear glide further down.
Time is fighting against me, but it can't for long. I will fight it too... I got all the time in the world. | It starts off with this sudden fear, a pit in the stomach, a sort of sixth sense alerting me that something is wrong. As soon as I overcome the initial flight or fight instinct, I perceive the sudden dimming of my surroundings. Which is generally the time I also notice that everyone and everything around me is frozen. I don't even know what "it" is. But I do know that time freezes every time I am in mortal danger. Call it my weird, selfish superpower. "It" has happened several times thus far and has saved my life every-single-time.
Now, it happened again.
I looked around. I can do that when it happens, cannot move much, but I can always look around. By now I know how this works. I have to figure out what is about to go wrong and do the least I can to escape it. Sometimes it is obvious, like that time with the speeding car or the brick from the top of a building - I had to step out of the way. When I slipped off the ladder, I had to change the orientation of my legs so I landed properly. For the puddle with a naked electric wire and the fish that had gone bad, I had to not do the action I was planning to. With the angry bulldog and the beehive, I had the most ability to move - very far away from either threat. Then the building that caught fire and the stampede in that mall, time kept freezing as I was forced into the right escape route into the open.
All of those times, time would freeze, sounds would stop and lights would dim till I made the right moves to escape the threat. If I moved in the right direction, the world would get brighter, and darker if I was not doing the right things to escape the threat.
This time I looked around, but cannot see anything wrong. And no matter how I tried to move my body the world did not get brighter.
I should have clarified where I am. This is an old rundown building a few streets away from where I live. Not a place that sees a lot of footfalls, but I was on a chase and that led me here. Now by no means was this safe, but one does what one must to satisfy one's hunger.
As I continued to look around, I slowly began to realize that the threat was not above me - it was under me. The floor. A small sag, imperceptible, but there it was. And as soon as I realized it, the world began to brighten. Which was surprising, considering I had not done anything to escape the situation yet. But there it was, the unmistakable unfreezing of time. The light getting faster and brighter, the first vibrations of sound reaching my ears. The sounds of a bunch of tiles cracking all around me; of a floor caving. The first movement of my body, downwards, plummeting.
Suddenly I knew this time was different. I was not going to escape. Unlike the nine times before this, I was not going to be lucky this time. Maybe "nine lives" was all I was going to get. |
I hope its not too vague, first writing prompt ^^ enjoy
Thank you all so much for the responses it's so much fun to read them :) | [WP] Time freezes for everyone around you each time your life is in danger, leaving only you able to move until you are no longer in danger. One day time freezes, but you can't figure out why, until.. | I don't like this gift, as you might expect me to. I know, you probably think it's handy. It keeps me alive, day in, day out.
It's a living hell.
Today, I roll over in the bed in the basement of my parent's house, where I still live at twenty-eight years of age.
The house is empty, silent as a grave. They both went out hours ago and didn't bother to wake me up. I walk, bare-footed, over to the coffee machine and switch it on. While I wait for it to brew I sit on the kitchen counter and contemplate my miserable existence.
I lost my job three years ago, and after six months of living on the street, I finally swallowed my pride and returned home to live with my parents. I know I'm a disappointment to them. I see it in their eyes every day, their only child, a useless waste of space.
I think about it some more as I carry my coffee back to my room, and as I switch on my laptop. It bores into my brain all day.
They'd be better off without me.
What am I good for?
Nothing.
Worthless.
Useless.
I swing my legs off my bed, mind clouded in a daze. I stumble into the bathroom and switch on the light. I gaze at the medicine cabinet. My father's razor, the empty bath.
And that's when it freezes.
I know because the tap has stopped dripping, water frozen in midair.
I know because the curtain blowing gently in the breeze of the open window is frozen, and the chatter of the birds outside is suddenly silenced.
What?
Wait--
I take one trembling step into the bathroom and then slide down the wall, sitting with my head in my hands.
What have I done?
How can I neutralize the threat if the threat is myself? | It starts off with this sudden fear, a pit in the stomach, a sort of sixth sense alerting me that something is wrong. As soon as I overcome the initial flight or fight instinct, I perceive the sudden dimming of my surroundings. Which is generally the time I also notice that everyone and everything around me is frozen. I don't even know what "it" is. But I do know that time freezes every time I am in mortal danger. Call it my weird, selfish superpower. "It" has happened several times thus far and has saved my life every-single-time.
Now, it happened again.
I looked around. I can do that when it happens, cannot move much, but I can always look around. By now I know how this works. I have to figure out what is about to go wrong and do the least I can to escape it. Sometimes it is obvious, like that time with the speeding car or the brick from the top of a building - I had to step out of the way. When I slipped off the ladder, I had to change the orientation of my legs so I landed properly. For the puddle with a naked electric wire and the fish that had gone bad, I had to not do the action I was planning to. With the angry bulldog and the beehive, I had the most ability to move - very far away from either threat. Then the building that caught fire and the stampede in that mall, time kept freezing as I was forced into the right escape route into the open.
All of those times, time would freeze, sounds would stop and lights would dim till I made the right moves to escape the threat. If I moved in the right direction, the world would get brighter, and darker if I was not doing the right things to escape the threat.
This time I looked around, but cannot see anything wrong. And no matter how I tried to move my body the world did not get brighter.
I should have clarified where I am. This is an old rundown building a few streets away from where I live. Not a place that sees a lot of footfalls, but I was on a chase and that led me here. Now by no means was this safe, but one does what one must to satisfy one's hunger.
As I continued to look around, I slowly began to realize that the threat was not above me - it was under me. The floor. A small sag, imperceptible, but there it was. And as soon as I realized it, the world began to brighten. Which was surprising, considering I had not done anything to escape the situation yet. But there it was, the unmistakable unfreezing of time. The light getting faster and brighter, the first vibrations of sound reaching my ears. The sounds of a bunch of tiles cracking all around me; of a floor caving. The first movement of my body, downwards, plummeting.
Suddenly I knew this time was different. I was not going to escape. Unlike the nine times before this, I was not going to be lucky this time. Maybe "nine lives" was all I was going to get. |
I hope its not too vague, first writing prompt ^^ enjoy
Thank you all so much for the responses it's so much fun to read them :) | [WP] Time freezes for everyone around you each time your life is in danger, leaving only you able to move until you are no longer in danger. One day time freezes, but you can't figure out why, until.. | This… This happens more than you would think. I’m just minding my own business, walking along; then BAM! I keep moving but the world around me comes to a screeching halt. Scratch that, there’s not even a screech. More like an unnoticeable halt. Yep, that’s right, I keep moving and the world stops turning. There’s one catch though. Time will only stop its never-ending flow for me, if my life is in some kind of immediate danger.
I more or less figured it out the first time it happened. I was thirteen, it was summer, and I was at scout camp. My friends in my troop always liked to start off summer camp with a bang. Joey was a kind kid, always in it for the adventure, but never wanted to hurt anyone. Daniel was the mischievous type, always stirring up trouble for the laughs or excitement. Well, Daniel got it in his head that it would be, “epic” to take one of the camps canoes from racks at the lake. Then try taking it out on some rapids he had seen in the nearby river on the way into camp. Joey and I were a little hesitant, but we had all taken canoeing classes together for our merit badge recently, and we were feeling pretty cocky.
We were stupid and we were wrong. We all knew shit was going south as soon as we got swept away in the canoe. We were being thrashed every way you could imagine, all of us terrified as could be, trying our damnedest to keep our paddles in the water. We ended up hitting a huge swell as we passed through a cluster of rocks. Just as the canoe began to tip everything went silent. The water around me stopped moving, completely. Splashes and droplets glimmered in the sunlight, frozen in midair. Looking to the backs of my friends I could see they were just as stuck as the rest of the world seemed to be. I was in complete shock, I didn’t want to move a muscle. I was scared it might cause time to start back up, then I’d be a dead scout on the 9’oclock news. I must have sat there for a good ten minutes, still as a corpse.
Finally, I worked up the nerve to move some. I shifted my weight to the other side of the canoe, hoping to correct the tipping. The canoe didn’t budge an inch; it was like being stuck in ice. That gave me a hell of a lot more confidence. I crawled up to the front of the canoe to get a better look at my friends. Their faces were frozen in panic, both of them completely unready for what was to come. I reached out to touch one of them on the shoulder, but caught myself halfway. What if touching them directly could hurt them? Don’t rightfully know how I came to that conclusion. But I was more than out of my element; at that point, anything was possible. I got it in my head that it might be a better idea to poke at them with my oar. I reached to pick it up from the bottom of the canoe, but even it wouldn’t budge. I started pulling at it harder, and harder, until I was yanking at it with all of my weight. Nothing. I gave up on the oar. Frustrated, but not deterred. I began to experiment a bit.
First, I started throwing my weight side to side in an effort to get something to move. Again, it was like trying to shake a stone from concrete. I worked up a bit more courage and tried to put my hand into the water. I ended up stubbing my fingers on the surface, like it was made of solid glass. Eventually I got ballsy enough to give Joey a light shove on the shoulder. It was like trying to push a bronze statue. Then I started getting really brave. I stood up in the canoe, wrapped my arms under his, and tried to lift him up. He couldn’t have weighed more then maybe 130 pounds, tops. But it felt like I was trying to lift a semi-truck. My friends weren’t going anywhere… I looked back out to the rapids ahead. The river wound a corner into what looked like calmer waters. I had to get help somehow, and with the world around me being what it was, I figured I’d take a chance.
I cautiously stepped one foot out of the canoe, onto the water’s surface, adding more and more of my own weight until all of it rested there. I bounced up and down some to see if there was any kind of give. There wasn’t, the entirety of the river was solid as rock. First time freezes, then I’m pulling a Jesus; I was blown away to say the least. I took couple of shaky steps forward. I’ve got to say that walking on clear water is something trippy. You can see the riverbed below your feet. You can see fish stuck mid swim for fucks sake. I kept taking steps forward, confidence building with every stride. Looking back, I cringed at the thought of what might happen to my friends if I left. But it was my only option. If I couldn’t move them, or anything to help save them, I could at least try and find some help. So, I continued down the river. As I came around the bend I saw that the river didn’t get calmer in the least. I was trekking over massive swells, jagged boulders and fallen logs every handful of yards. I knew if time started up again, my friends would be royally fucked. Eventually the rocky rivers edge gave way to flat sand banks and the river itself became level as a road. Then, without warning, time started right back up again. I fell into waist deep water with a gentle current that could be heard as it flowed around me. I could hear birds chirping again, the wind blowing, the distant echo of thundering rapids…
My gut sank as I turned to look back to where I had come from. The rapids splashed about fiercely, their swells slamming against the rocks and logs. I stood there in the water and waited. I knew they were out there now, the canoe already flipped and the rapids most surely would be tossing them around like ragdolls. The only chance my friends had now was for me to fish them out when they got to me. I stood there silent for what must have been just minutes, but it felt like hours. Then I saw him. Joey… face down in the calm waters, floating my way. I rushed out and grabbed him. I can remember so clearly how limp his body was. By the time, I got him to shore, I knew something was gravely wrong. But it wasn’t until I laid him on his back that I saw what the problem was. Joey had been impaled on a broken tree branch. It had pierced him between his throat and right collarbone. The whole of the branch must have been something around two feet long and an inch thick. All you could see sticking out from his neck was the dark and warn nub of the branch. Poking out of his left side, near his hip, I could see the other end of it, jagged and covered in red; poking out only inches. With a steady stream of blood still oozing from the wound. I fell back onto the sand, sick to my stomach and gagging at the ghastly sight. I may have learned some first aid from the scouts… but Joey was far beyond anything I could have done to help. I had to be certain though. I crawled back to his side. Reaching out I pressed two fingers firmly against the side of his neck, just under the jawline. No pulse. The poor kid was about as dead as dead can get. I sat there on my knees and just stared for a while. I watched Joey in his stillness, and the rapids for any sign of Daniel.
Sometime later, must have been around sunset, Joey and I were found by a search party from camp. I was so far gone into shock I didn’t speak for the rest of the night. They carted poor Joey off to the morgue, and I was admitted to a local hospital to recover; they never did find Daniels body. The following morning the police came to me for an interview on what had happened. I couldn’t exactly tell them the truth; so, I told them a half truth. I told them exactly what happened minus the time freezing bits. Daniel, Joey, and I stole a canoe, got in over our heads, and flipped it in some rapids. I washed up on shore later and found Joey dead. Ultimately it was found that no one was at fault, authorities chalked it up as a tragic accident. I was released from the hospital within three days with no signs of any injury. They called it a miracle; they weren’t exactly wrong…
I’ve been this way ever since. Whenever I’m in danger, time goes still until I’m somewhere safe; then starts right back up. You’d, be surprised just how often one’s life can be at risk. Because this happens at least twice a month. But I’ve learned to live with it. It may be a mild inconvenience, but it keeps me safe, and time always starts up again. But this time… This time is different; VERY different.
I don’t know how long time has been stuck, but this is the longest it has ever been, and I’m scared. Normally, provided I’m not in an exceptionally dangerous situation, I just have to run a few feet away from where I was. Then time picks right back up, and that asshole who jumped the curb doesn’t hit me. But today, no matter where I go, time has refused to start up again. I have wandered my hometown high and low, trying to find a safe place. It got to the point that I had to leave town hoping that would bring me far away enough from the danger. Now here I am, climbing a damn mountain slope… and I can finally see it. I- I was thinking way too small. Never thought I would see a fireball that big, nor did I ever imagine I’d see it falling out of the sky… well more stuck than falling now. But at this point, I don’t think there is anywhere on Earth that is safe.
| It starts off with this sudden fear, a pit in the stomach, a sort of sixth sense alerting me that something is wrong. As soon as I overcome the initial flight or fight instinct, I perceive the sudden dimming of my surroundings. Which is generally the time I also notice that everyone and everything around me is frozen. I don't even know what "it" is. But I do know that time freezes every time I am in mortal danger. Call it my weird, selfish superpower. "It" has happened several times thus far and has saved my life every-single-time.
Now, it happened again.
I looked around. I can do that when it happens, cannot move much, but I can always look around. By now I know how this works. I have to figure out what is about to go wrong and do the least I can to escape it. Sometimes it is obvious, like that time with the speeding car or the brick from the top of a building - I had to step out of the way. When I slipped off the ladder, I had to change the orientation of my legs so I landed properly. For the puddle with a naked electric wire and the fish that had gone bad, I had to not do the action I was planning to. With the angry bulldog and the beehive, I had the most ability to move - very far away from either threat. Then the building that caught fire and the stampede in that mall, time kept freezing as I was forced into the right escape route into the open.
All of those times, time would freeze, sounds would stop and lights would dim till I made the right moves to escape the threat. If I moved in the right direction, the world would get brighter, and darker if I was not doing the right things to escape the threat.
This time I looked around, but cannot see anything wrong. And no matter how I tried to move my body the world did not get brighter.
I should have clarified where I am. This is an old rundown building a few streets away from where I live. Not a place that sees a lot of footfalls, but I was on a chase and that led me here. Now by no means was this safe, but one does what one must to satisfy one's hunger.
As I continued to look around, I slowly began to realize that the threat was not above me - it was under me. The floor. A small sag, imperceptible, but there it was. And as soon as I realized it, the world began to brighten. Which was surprising, considering I had not done anything to escape the situation yet. But there it was, the unmistakable unfreezing of time. The light getting faster and brighter, the first vibrations of sound reaching my ears. The sounds of a bunch of tiles cracking all around me; of a floor caving. The first movement of my body, downwards, plummeting.
Suddenly I knew this time was different. I was not going to escape. Unlike the nine times before this, I was not going to be lucky this time. Maybe "nine lives" was all I was going to get. |
I hope its not too vague, first writing prompt ^^ enjoy
Thank you all so much for the responses it's so much fun to read them :) | [WP] Time freezes for everyone around you each time your life is in danger, leaving only you able to move until you are no longer in danger. One day time freezes, but you can't figure out why, until.. | The first time it happened, that I can remember, I was 7 or 8, I think. Went running out into the street after a ball, and everyone stopped for me. It kind of stuck me as odd, that all the cars on the street stopped so suddenly, and that my ball stopped rolling too, but I didn't really think of it at the time. Got my ball and got back off the road, and everybody started moving again.
The second time I was 13. Family vacation in Florida. My cousin Chris and I were swimming in the ocean when everything froze. Chris froze. The water froze around him, but not around me. It was like it was solid but not ice. Trying to swim just seemed to kick it aside and make a hole, which I fell into, and the hole got worse as I fell further until I hit the bottom, maybe 20 feet down. I tried climbing up but I just kept pushing water back, so instead I kind of crawled/dug/pushed my way to shore, yelling and screaming and afraid, hoping that my parents could help. Once I was close enough to shore that I could get my head above water again, the water started moving. There was a huge thud as the water closed in behind me where I had cut my path. I screamed and screamed and tried to tell my parents what had happened, they freaked out and tried to calm me down. Never saw Chris again. My Dad said it was a rip tide and I was lucky to be alive. Said I was imagining everything that I was saying.
Happened a few more times over the years after that. I learned that it happened whenever I was in serious danger of dying. Once when I was driving, I was distracted and about to miss a red light. Once on a train that turned out it was about to derail. That one got me. I knew when it happened what sort of capability I had, and got myself off the train, but afterwards I couldn't help but wonder if I could have saved all the other people on the train. I've jumped in front of a couple cars and busses since, to save someone from harm, but otherwise, I haven't really come across too many crazy situations.
Today, time froze while I was at the ball game. The roar of the crowd, vendors shouting about beer and hot dogs, all of it stopped. Pillar was half way between second and third, and the ball was hovering just above the second baseman's glove. I stood to look around me, but it didn't appear that there were any immediate threats. I wasn't eating or drinking anything... not about to choke. The ball was going away from me, mostly. So I wasn't going to get beaned...
I wondered if leaving the dome would start things up again, but then who knows what would happen to the people around me? I thought back to the train that I had hopped off of, only to watch it hop off the tracks a hundred meters up and turn into a fireball of a jack-hammer.
My thoughts turned to bigger things. Fire? Gas explosion? Structural failure? Who knew what was holding up the stands. Guy with a gun on the other side of the stadium?
Thirty some-odd sleeps later, I was getting tired of it. Really, really tired of it. I had opted to start moving people out of the stadium. But 40,000 people is a lot of dead weight to lug around. I had managed to move about 700 or so from where I was originally seated. I worked as close to where I original sat as I could, clearing people out row by row, section by section. I knew there would be mass panic and confusion when it all started up again but that didn't matter, at least they'd live, hopefully. The fat ones were the worst. It was a hot day, perpetually hot, and their BO stayed with them. But, I had time, I guess, and this was probably the right thing to do.
The next guy was another fat one. Great. This guy even had a coat on, a big puffy jacket. As I went to start heaving him out of his chair, I felt something hard under his jacket - something that didn't quite feel right. Unzipping his jacket I saw what was causing the time freeze - a suicide vest covered with C4. What started out as shock turned into relief. If I could just get rid of this guy, that would be enough to save everyone!
2 hours later I had dragged his sorry ass out of the stadium, across the road, and was heading towards the water. If I dumped him in, that might lesson the explosion. I paused at the edge of the promenade. Dumping him in that water was surely the right thing to do? I had no idea how to disarm a bomb. Once I convinced myself, in he went, making a blob shaped hole about halfway into the water, no splash. I made sure he had stopped, and then turned around to walk back to the stadium.
About halfway across the road, time started again. A muffled boom and a huge splash sounded behind me. Success! I turned around to watch the water fall down, and that's when I heard the sound of 3 more booms going off inside the stadium.
| It starts off with this sudden fear, a pit in the stomach, a sort of sixth sense alerting me that something is wrong. As soon as I overcome the initial flight or fight instinct, I perceive the sudden dimming of my surroundings. Which is generally the time I also notice that everyone and everything around me is frozen. I don't even know what "it" is. But I do know that time freezes every time I am in mortal danger. Call it my weird, selfish superpower. "It" has happened several times thus far and has saved my life every-single-time.
Now, it happened again.
I looked around. I can do that when it happens, cannot move much, but I can always look around. By now I know how this works. I have to figure out what is about to go wrong and do the least I can to escape it. Sometimes it is obvious, like that time with the speeding car or the brick from the top of a building - I had to step out of the way. When I slipped off the ladder, I had to change the orientation of my legs so I landed properly. For the puddle with a naked electric wire and the fish that had gone bad, I had to not do the action I was planning to. With the angry bulldog and the beehive, I had the most ability to move - very far away from either threat. Then the building that caught fire and the stampede in that mall, time kept freezing as I was forced into the right escape route into the open.
All of those times, time would freeze, sounds would stop and lights would dim till I made the right moves to escape the threat. If I moved in the right direction, the world would get brighter, and darker if I was not doing the right things to escape the threat.
This time I looked around, but cannot see anything wrong. And no matter how I tried to move my body the world did not get brighter.
I should have clarified where I am. This is an old rundown building a few streets away from where I live. Not a place that sees a lot of footfalls, but I was on a chase and that led me here. Now by no means was this safe, but one does what one must to satisfy one's hunger.
As I continued to look around, I slowly began to realize that the threat was not above me - it was under me. The floor. A small sag, imperceptible, but there it was. And as soon as I realized it, the world began to brighten. Which was surprising, considering I had not done anything to escape the situation yet. But there it was, the unmistakable unfreezing of time. The light getting faster and brighter, the first vibrations of sound reaching my ears. The sounds of a bunch of tiles cracking all around me; of a floor caving. The first movement of my body, downwards, plummeting.
Suddenly I knew this time was different. I was not going to escape. Unlike the nine times before this, I was not going to be lucky this time. Maybe "nine lives" was all I was going to get. |
I hope its not too vague, first writing prompt ^^ enjoy
Thank you all so much for the responses it's so much fun to read them :) | [WP] Time freezes for everyone around you each time your life is in danger, leaving only you able to move until you are no longer in danger. One day time freezes, but you can't figure out why, until.. | This… This happens more than you would think. I’m just minding my own business, walking along; then BAM! I keep moving but the world around me comes to a screeching halt. Scratch that, there’s not even a screech. More like an unnoticeable halt. Yep, that’s right, I keep moving and the world stops turning. There’s one catch though. Time will only stop its never-ending flow for me, if my life is in some kind of immediate danger.
I more or less figured it out the first time it happened. I was thirteen, it was summer, and I was at scout camp. My friends in my troop always liked to start off summer camp with a bang. Joey was a kind kid, always in it for the adventure, but never wanted to hurt anyone. Daniel was the mischievous type, always stirring up trouble for the laughs or excitement. Well, Daniel got it in his head that it would be, “epic” to take one of the camps canoes from racks at the lake. Then try taking it out on some rapids he had seen in the nearby river on the way into camp. Joey and I were a little hesitant, but we had all taken canoeing classes together for our merit badge recently, and we were feeling pretty cocky.
We were stupid and we were wrong. We all knew shit was going south as soon as we got swept away in the canoe. We were being thrashed every way you could imagine, all of us terrified as could be, trying our damnedest to keep our paddles in the water. We ended up hitting a huge swell as we passed through a cluster of rocks. Just as the canoe began to tip everything went silent. The water around me stopped moving, completely. Splashes and droplets glimmered in the sunlight, frozen in midair. Looking to the backs of my friends I could see they were just as stuck as the rest of the world seemed to be. I was in complete shock, I didn’t want to move a muscle. I was scared it might cause time to start back up, then I’d be a dead scout on the 9’oclock news. I must have sat there for a good ten minutes, still as a corpse.
Finally, I worked up the nerve to move some. I shifted my weight to the other side of the canoe, hoping to correct the tipping. The canoe didn’t budge an inch; it was like being stuck in ice. That gave me a hell of a lot more confidence. I crawled up to the front of the canoe to get a better look at my friends. Their faces were frozen in panic, both of them completely unready for what was to come. I reached out to touch one of them on the shoulder, but caught myself halfway. What if touching them directly could hurt them? Don’t rightfully know how I came to that conclusion. But I was more than out of my element; at that point, anything was possible. I got it in my head that it might be a better idea to poke at them with my oar. I reached to pick it up from the bottom of the canoe, but even it wouldn’t budge. I started pulling at it harder, and harder, until I was yanking at it with all of my weight. Nothing. I gave up on the oar. Frustrated, but not deterred. I began to experiment a bit.
First, I started throwing my weight side to side in an effort to get something to move. Again, it was like trying to shake a stone from concrete. I worked up a bit more courage and tried to put my hand into the water. I ended up stubbing my fingers on the surface, like it was made of solid glass. Eventually I got ballsy enough to give Joey a light shove on the shoulder. It was like trying to push a bronze statue. Then I started getting really brave. I stood up in the canoe, wrapped my arms under his, and tried to lift him up. He couldn’t have weighed more then maybe 130 pounds, tops. But it felt like I was trying to lift a semi-truck. My friends weren’t going anywhere… I looked back out to the rapids ahead. The river wound a corner into what looked like calmer waters. I had to get help somehow, and with the world around me being what it was, I figured I’d take a chance.
I cautiously stepped one foot out of the canoe, onto the water’s surface, adding more and more of my own weight until all of it rested there. I bounced up and down some to see if there was any kind of give. There wasn’t, the entirety of the river was solid as rock. First time freezes, then I’m pulling a Jesus; I was blown away to say the least. I took couple of shaky steps forward. I’ve got to say that walking on clear water is something trippy. You can see the riverbed below your feet. You can see fish stuck mid swim for fucks sake. I kept taking steps forward, confidence building with every stride. Looking back, I cringed at the thought of what might happen to my friends if I left. But it was my only option. If I couldn’t move them, or anything to help save them, I could at least try and find some help. So, I continued down the river. As I came around the bend I saw that the river didn’t get calmer in the least. I was trekking over massive swells, jagged boulders and fallen logs every handful of yards. I knew if time started up again, my friends would be royally fucked. Eventually the rocky rivers edge gave way to flat sand banks and the river itself became level as a road. Then, without warning, time started right back up again. I fell into waist deep water with a gentle current that could be heard as it flowed around me. I could hear birds chirping again, the wind blowing, the distant echo of thundering rapids…
My gut sank as I turned to look back to where I had come from. The rapids splashed about fiercely, their swells slamming against the rocks and logs. I stood there in the water and waited. I knew they were out there now, the canoe already flipped and the rapids most surely would be tossing them around like ragdolls. The only chance my friends had now was for me to fish them out when they got to me. I stood there silent for what must have been just minutes, but it felt like hours. Then I saw him. Joey… face down in the calm waters, floating my way. I rushed out and grabbed him. I can remember so clearly how limp his body was. By the time, I got him to shore, I knew something was gravely wrong. But it wasn’t until I laid him on his back that I saw what the problem was. Joey had been impaled on a broken tree branch. It had pierced him between his throat and right collarbone. The whole of the branch must have been something around two feet long and an inch thick. All you could see sticking out from his neck was the dark and warn nub of the branch. Poking out of his left side, near his hip, I could see the other end of it, jagged and covered in red; poking out only inches. With a steady stream of blood still oozing from the wound. I fell back onto the sand, sick to my stomach and gagging at the ghastly sight. I may have learned some first aid from the scouts… but Joey was far beyond anything I could have done to help. I had to be certain though. I crawled back to his side. Reaching out I pressed two fingers firmly against the side of his neck, just under the jawline. No pulse. The poor kid was about as dead as dead can get. I sat there on my knees and just stared for a while. I watched Joey in his stillness, and the rapids for any sign of Daniel.
Sometime later, must have been around sunset, Joey and I were found by a search party from camp. I was so far gone into shock I didn’t speak for the rest of the night. They carted poor Joey off to the morgue, and I was admitted to a local hospital to recover; they never did find Daniels body. The following morning the police came to me for an interview on what had happened. I couldn’t exactly tell them the truth; so, I told them a half truth. I told them exactly what happened minus the time freezing bits. Daniel, Joey, and I stole a canoe, got in over our heads, and flipped it in some rapids. I washed up on shore later and found Joey dead. Ultimately it was found that no one was at fault, authorities chalked it up as a tragic accident. I was released from the hospital within three days with no signs of any injury. They called it a miracle; they weren’t exactly wrong…
I’ve been this way ever since. Whenever I’m in danger, time goes still until I’m somewhere safe; then starts right back up. You’d, be surprised just how often one’s life can be at risk. Because this happens at least twice a month. But I’ve learned to live with it. It may be a mild inconvenience, but it keeps me safe, and time always starts up again. But this time… This time is different; VERY different.
I don’t know how long time has been stuck, but this is the longest it has ever been, and I’m scared. Normally, provided I’m not in an exceptionally dangerous situation, I just have to run a few feet away from where I was. Then time picks right back up, and that asshole who jumped the curb doesn’t hit me. But today, no matter where I go, time has refused to start up again. I have wandered my hometown high and low, trying to find a safe place. It got to the point that I had to leave town hoping that would bring me far away enough from the danger. Now here I am, climbing a damn mountain slope… and I can finally see it. I- I was thinking way too small. Never thought I would see a fireball that big, nor did I ever imagine I’d see it falling out of the sky… well more stuck than falling now. But at this point, I don’t think there is anywhere on Earth that is safe.
| "Incoming!" he shouted!
I knew this feeling all too well. The shriek of a fellow soldiers voice, the whistle of an arcing round fired undoubtedly from an enemy mortar, and the drop in my stomach as the world around me froze. For the duration of this god forsaken war I have become what some, as if anyone would believe me, would consider the luckiest man in these trenches.
I will never be able to understand why us Americans are here fighting in Europe but I have some how figured out what is going on with me; every time my life is in danger the world around me stops. At first I remember just standing face to face with an enemy soldier. I had never been more scared in my life as I saw his weapon flash. I knew in that instant that I would be done for but instead of a lead shard piercing my skin the world went quiet.
I stood looking at him as he stood motionless. I myself was far to scared to move fearing that if I did then time would resume, but as the minutes went by I took a step backwards and to my relief the bullet remained stagnant in his rifle. I waved at him, I spun around in a circle, I even stuck my tongue out at him, but he still did not flinch. It wasn't until I took a step to my left that the war around me resumed.
The bullet blasted off into the distance and that enemy soldier stood motionless looking at me now two feet further to his right. His jaw dropped in disbelief and he lost his balance falling backwards into his line. I took this chance and ran as fast as my feet could carry me back to our defenses.
Sitting in my dorm I thought about what I knew had happened. It was not until then where I realized that time only continued because I moved from that bullet's path. I realized I was invincible and I had no clue as to why.
But back now to the present, as if time had meaning to me now. I knew that to avoid this mortar a simple four or five yards would suffice so I grabbed my canteen before transitioning. After I caught my breath I stepped clear out of the shells blast radius. This time though was not like before....
I was safe. There was no way I would be caught in the blast but yet time still stayed still. I stepped even further away from the danger but still nothing. I didn't understand.
When time froze around me it was always a surreal experience. Nothing made a sound and nothing moved, but then from the corner of my eye I saw something; it looked like a simple flash, something I would have disregarded if time was moving. I drew my binoculars from my belt and began to raise them to my eyes when I heard the first noise. The air vibrated around me and moments later a bang followed. My mind raced and I came to understand that I was not alone in this experience, but by the time I aligned my binoculars on the mark where the flash was that German sniper landed a round in my chest. |
I hope its not too vague, first writing prompt ^^ enjoy
Thank you all so much for the responses it's so much fun to read them :) | [WP] Time freezes for everyone around you each time your life is in danger, leaving only you able to move until you are no longer in danger. One day time freezes, but you can't figure out why, until.. | This… This happens more than you would think. I’m just minding my own business, walking along; then BAM! I keep moving but the world around me comes to a screeching halt. Scratch that, there’s not even a screech. More like an unnoticeable halt. Yep, that’s right, I keep moving and the world stops turning. There’s one catch though. Time will only stop its never-ending flow for me, if my life is in some kind of immediate danger.
I more or less figured it out the first time it happened. I was thirteen, it was summer, and I was at scout camp. My friends in my troop always liked to start off summer camp with a bang. Joey was a kind kid, always in it for the adventure, but never wanted to hurt anyone. Daniel was the mischievous type, always stirring up trouble for the laughs or excitement. Well, Daniel got it in his head that it would be, “epic” to take one of the camps canoes from racks at the lake. Then try taking it out on some rapids he had seen in the nearby river on the way into camp. Joey and I were a little hesitant, but we had all taken canoeing classes together for our merit badge recently, and we were feeling pretty cocky.
We were stupid and we were wrong. We all knew shit was going south as soon as we got swept away in the canoe. We were being thrashed every way you could imagine, all of us terrified as could be, trying our damnedest to keep our paddles in the water. We ended up hitting a huge swell as we passed through a cluster of rocks. Just as the canoe began to tip everything went silent. The water around me stopped moving, completely. Splashes and droplets glimmered in the sunlight, frozen in midair. Looking to the backs of my friends I could see they were just as stuck as the rest of the world seemed to be. I was in complete shock, I didn’t want to move a muscle. I was scared it might cause time to start back up, then I’d be a dead scout on the 9’oclock news. I must have sat there for a good ten minutes, still as a corpse.
Finally, I worked up the nerve to move some. I shifted my weight to the other side of the canoe, hoping to correct the tipping. The canoe didn’t budge an inch; it was like being stuck in ice. That gave me a hell of a lot more confidence. I crawled up to the front of the canoe to get a better look at my friends. Their faces were frozen in panic, both of them completely unready for what was to come. I reached out to touch one of them on the shoulder, but caught myself halfway. What if touching them directly could hurt them? Don’t rightfully know how I came to that conclusion. But I was more than out of my element; at that point, anything was possible. I got it in my head that it might be a better idea to poke at them with my oar. I reached to pick it up from the bottom of the canoe, but even it wouldn’t budge. I started pulling at it harder, and harder, until I was yanking at it with all of my weight. Nothing. I gave up on the oar. Frustrated, but not deterred. I began to experiment a bit.
First, I started throwing my weight side to side in an effort to get something to move. Again, it was like trying to shake a stone from concrete. I worked up a bit more courage and tried to put my hand into the water. I ended up stubbing my fingers on the surface, like it was made of solid glass. Eventually I got ballsy enough to give Joey a light shove on the shoulder. It was like trying to push a bronze statue. Then I started getting really brave. I stood up in the canoe, wrapped my arms under his, and tried to lift him up. He couldn’t have weighed more then maybe 130 pounds, tops. But it felt like I was trying to lift a semi-truck. My friends weren’t going anywhere… I looked back out to the rapids ahead. The river wound a corner into what looked like calmer waters. I had to get help somehow, and with the world around me being what it was, I figured I’d take a chance.
I cautiously stepped one foot out of the canoe, onto the water’s surface, adding more and more of my own weight until all of it rested there. I bounced up and down some to see if there was any kind of give. There wasn’t, the entirety of the river was solid as rock. First time freezes, then I’m pulling a Jesus; I was blown away to say the least. I took couple of shaky steps forward. I’ve got to say that walking on clear water is something trippy. You can see the riverbed below your feet. You can see fish stuck mid swim for fucks sake. I kept taking steps forward, confidence building with every stride. Looking back, I cringed at the thought of what might happen to my friends if I left. But it was my only option. If I couldn’t move them, or anything to help save them, I could at least try and find some help. So, I continued down the river. As I came around the bend I saw that the river didn’t get calmer in the least. I was trekking over massive swells, jagged boulders and fallen logs every handful of yards. I knew if time started up again, my friends would be royally fucked. Eventually the rocky rivers edge gave way to flat sand banks and the river itself became level as a road. Then, without warning, time started right back up again. I fell into waist deep water with a gentle current that could be heard as it flowed around me. I could hear birds chirping again, the wind blowing, the distant echo of thundering rapids…
My gut sank as I turned to look back to where I had come from. The rapids splashed about fiercely, their swells slamming against the rocks and logs. I stood there in the water and waited. I knew they were out there now, the canoe already flipped and the rapids most surely would be tossing them around like ragdolls. The only chance my friends had now was for me to fish them out when they got to me. I stood there silent for what must have been just minutes, but it felt like hours. Then I saw him. Joey… face down in the calm waters, floating my way. I rushed out and grabbed him. I can remember so clearly how limp his body was. By the time, I got him to shore, I knew something was gravely wrong. But it wasn’t until I laid him on his back that I saw what the problem was. Joey had been impaled on a broken tree branch. It had pierced him between his throat and right collarbone. The whole of the branch must have been something around two feet long and an inch thick. All you could see sticking out from his neck was the dark and warn nub of the branch. Poking out of his left side, near his hip, I could see the other end of it, jagged and covered in red; poking out only inches. With a steady stream of blood still oozing from the wound. I fell back onto the sand, sick to my stomach and gagging at the ghastly sight. I may have learned some first aid from the scouts… but Joey was far beyond anything I could have done to help. I had to be certain though. I crawled back to his side. Reaching out I pressed two fingers firmly against the side of his neck, just under the jawline. No pulse. The poor kid was about as dead as dead can get. I sat there on my knees and just stared for a while. I watched Joey in his stillness, and the rapids for any sign of Daniel.
Sometime later, must have been around sunset, Joey and I were found by a search party from camp. I was so far gone into shock I didn’t speak for the rest of the night. They carted poor Joey off to the morgue, and I was admitted to a local hospital to recover; they never did find Daniels body. The following morning the police came to me for an interview on what had happened. I couldn’t exactly tell them the truth; so, I told them a half truth. I told them exactly what happened minus the time freezing bits. Daniel, Joey, and I stole a canoe, got in over our heads, and flipped it in some rapids. I washed up on shore later and found Joey dead. Ultimately it was found that no one was at fault, authorities chalked it up as a tragic accident. I was released from the hospital within three days with no signs of any injury. They called it a miracle; they weren’t exactly wrong…
I’ve been this way ever since. Whenever I’m in danger, time goes still until I’m somewhere safe; then starts right back up. You’d, be surprised just how often one’s life can be at risk. Because this happens at least twice a month. But I’ve learned to live with it. It may be a mild inconvenience, but it keeps me safe, and time always starts up again. But this time… This time is different; VERY different.
I don’t know how long time has been stuck, but this is the longest it has ever been, and I’m scared. Normally, provided I’m not in an exceptionally dangerous situation, I just have to run a few feet away from where I was. Then time picks right back up, and that asshole who jumped the curb doesn’t hit me. But today, no matter where I go, time has refused to start up again. I have wandered my hometown high and low, trying to find a safe place. It got to the point that I had to leave town hoping that would bring me far away enough from the danger. Now here I am, climbing a damn mountain slope… and I can finally see it. I- I was thinking way too small. Never thought I would see a fireball that big, nor did I ever imagine I’d see it falling out of the sky… well more stuck than falling now. But at this point, I don’t think there is anywhere on Earth that is safe.
| The first time everything stopped, I was crossing the street. Some drunk jerk ran a red light and it all went quiet. I've had my fair share of potentially deadly experiences, but this time I got another chance. I figured it out pretty quickly and everything resumed as soon as I got off the road.
At first, I thought I was lucky, that I was somehow blessed with this power.
Then I realized it was a curse.
When I got home, I realized the extent of the powers. Every single time I walked past anything that could cause my death, it got quiet. The ceiling fan, the knife block, the medicine cabinet, all sorts of stuff. When I tried to eat dinner, time stopped at every bite of ramen in the case that I would choke.
At work, dangerous stuff was everywhere. Staplers, coffee, other people, it was challenge to find safe places to pass the time.
Most of the time I couldn't even figure out what the danger was. I generally just walked around until time resumed.
I was able to take it for about three days.
Three *very* long days.
I got so fed up with it that I went into a very dark place, and a very tall building. As I walked off the roof, time stopped.
I did not. |
I hope its not too vague, first writing prompt ^^ enjoy
Thank you all so much for the responses it's so much fun to read them :) | [WP] Time freezes for everyone around you each time your life is in danger, leaving only you able to move until you are no longer in danger. One day time freezes, but you can't figure out why, until.. | I don't like this gift, as you might expect me to. I know, you probably think it's handy. It keeps me alive, day in, day out.
It's a living hell.
Today, I roll over in the bed in the basement of my parent's house, where I still live at twenty-eight years of age.
The house is empty, silent as a grave. They both went out hours ago and didn't bother to wake me up. I walk, bare-footed, over to the coffee machine and switch it on. While I wait for it to brew I sit on the kitchen counter and contemplate my miserable existence.
I lost my job three years ago, and after six months of living on the street, I finally swallowed my pride and returned home to live with my parents. I know I'm a disappointment to them. I see it in their eyes every day, their only child, a useless waste of space.
I think about it some more as I carry my coffee back to my room, and as I switch on my laptop. It bores into my brain all day.
They'd be better off without me.
What am I good for?
Nothing.
Worthless.
Useless.
I swing my legs off my bed, mind clouded in a daze. I stumble into the bathroom and switch on the light. I gaze at the medicine cabinet. My father's razor, the empty bath.
And that's when it freezes.
I know because the tap has stopped dripping, water frozen in midair.
I know because the curtain blowing gently in the breeze of the open window is frozen, and the chatter of the birds outside is suddenly silenced.
What?
Wait--
I take one trembling step into the bathroom and then slide down the wall, sitting with my head in my hands.
What have I done?
How can I neutralize the threat if the threat is myself? | I remember the first time I was aware of it.
I was five, and the neighbours' kid was rushing towards me on his bike. I hated him ever since. He was about to crash right into me, when time froze. I remember feeling petrified, but not as much as you would expect. Perhaps knowing what was about to transpire mitigated the feeling.
There were those two kids playing tag, and that lady in the orange skirt. There they were, frozen in time, as if I were looking at a photograph from the inside out.
Once the shock wore off, I stepped aside; Jake barely missed me, scraping my arm in the process. Later he told my mom he didn't see me. I know he lied. So did my mom, I think she hated him too ever since.
I remember when I was about to slip in the water park; seeing those glistening drops of water, from kids splashing around, frozen in the air. It was quite beautiful. Or the time where only a tiny gap of air stood between my eye and a giant wasp. I'm allergic, so the doctors said.
It was always a few seconds, sometimes a few short minutes, and it was all resolved. I would get to safety, and time moved on.
But not today.
Time froze, and there was nothing I could do about it. My body was too weak. My mom was stood there, next to my bed, frozen like an angelic sculpture, like in those old art books. *I can't remove the cancer out of me* I yelled, but time held me tight in his protective arms. So tight, I couldn't breathe, but not tight enough to squeeze me into the next life. *How do I get out of this?* I was in constant pain, but the end looked so far away.
I used every ounce of will power I had to drag myself to the side of the bed, I wanted to be closer to my mom. That's when I saw the tear; and my heart skipped a beat when I noticed the syringe.
I smiled looking up at my mom. *I'm glad you're my mom* I said. I wonder if she heard me in those frozen moments.
I closed my eyes, and concentrated really hard, trying to will time to move again. I swear I could see the tear glide further down.
Time is fighting against me, but it can't for long. I will fight it too... I got all the time in the world. |
I hope its not too vague, first writing prompt ^^ enjoy
Thank you all so much for the responses it's so much fun to read them :) | [WP] Time freezes for everyone around you each time your life is in danger, leaving only you able to move until you are no longer in danger. One day time freezes, but you can't figure out why, until.. | This… This happens more than you would think. I’m just minding my own business, walking along; then BAM! I keep moving but the world around me comes to a screeching halt. Scratch that, there’s not even a screech. More like an unnoticeable halt. Yep, that’s right, I keep moving and the world stops turning. There’s one catch though. Time will only stop its never-ending flow for me, if my life is in some kind of immediate danger.
I more or less figured it out the first time it happened. I was thirteen, it was summer, and I was at scout camp. My friends in my troop always liked to start off summer camp with a bang. Joey was a kind kid, always in it for the adventure, but never wanted to hurt anyone. Daniel was the mischievous type, always stirring up trouble for the laughs or excitement. Well, Daniel got it in his head that it would be, “epic” to take one of the camps canoes from racks at the lake. Then try taking it out on some rapids he had seen in the nearby river on the way into camp. Joey and I were a little hesitant, but we had all taken canoeing classes together for our merit badge recently, and we were feeling pretty cocky.
We were stupid and we were wrong. We all knew shit was going south as soon as we got swept away in the canoe. We were being thrashed every way you could imagine, all of us terrified as could be, trying our damnedest to keep our paddles in the water. We ended up hitting a huge swell as we passed through a cluster of rocks. Just as the canoe began to tip everything went silent. The water around me stopped moving, completely. Splashes and droplets glimmered in the sunlight, frozen in midair. Looking to the backs of my friends I could see they were just as stuck as the rest of the world seemed to be. I was in complete shock, I didn’t want to move a muscle. I was scared it might cause time to start back up, then I’d be a dead scout on the 9’oclock news. I must have sat there for a good ten minutes, still as a corpse.
Finally, I worked up the nerve to move some. I shifted my weight to the other side of the canoe, hoping to correct the tipping. The canoe didn’t budge an inch; it was like being stuck in ice. That gave me a hell of a lot more confidence. I crawled up to the front of the canoe to get a better look at my friends. Their faces were frozen in panic, both of them completely unready for what was to come. I reached out to touch one of them on the shoulder, but caught myself halfway. What if touching them directly could hurt them? Don’t rightfully know how I came to that conclusion. But I was more than out of my element; at that point, anything was possible. I got it in my head that it might be a better idea to poke at them with my oar. I reached to pick it up from the bottom of the canoe, but even it wouldn’t budge. I started pulling at it harder, and harder, until I was yanking at it with all of my weight. Nothing. I gave up on the oar. Frustrated, but not deterred. I began to experiment a bit.
First, I started throwing my weight side to side in an effort to get something to move. Again, it was like trying to shake a stone from concrete. I worked up a bit more courage and tried to put my hand into the water. I ended up stubbing my fingers on the surface, like it was made of solid glass. Eventually I got ballsy enough to give Joey a light shove on the shoulder. It was like trying to push a bronze statue. Then I started getting really brave. I stood up in the canoe, wrapped my arms under his, and tried to lift him up. He couldn’t have weighed more then maybe 130 pounds, tops. But it felt like I was trying to lift a semi-truck. My friends weren’t going anywhere… I looked back out to the rapids ahead. The river wound a corner into what looked like calmer waters. I had to get help somehow, and with the world around me being what it was, I figured I’d take a chance.
I cautiously stepped one foot out of the canoe, onto the water’s surface, adding more and more of my own weight until all of it rested there. I bounced up and down some to see if there was any kind of give. There wasn’t, the entirety of the river was solid as rock. First time freezes, then I’m pulling a Jesus; I was blown away to say the least. I took couple of shaky steps forward. I’ve got to say that walking on clear water is something trippy. You can see the riverbed below your feet. You can see fish stuck mid swim for fucks sake. I kept taking steps forward, confidence building with every stride. Looking back, I cringed at the thought of what might happen to my friends if I left. But it was my only option. If I couldn’t move them, or anything to help save them, I could at least try and find some help. So, I continued down the river. As I came around the bend I saw that the river didn’t get calmer in the least. I was trekking over massive swells, jagged boulders and fallen logs every handful of yards. I knew if time started up again, my friends would be royally fucked. Eventually the rocky rivers edge gave way to flat sand banks and the river itself became level as a road. Then, without warning, time started right back up again. I fell into waist deep water with a gentle current that could be heard as it flowed around me. I could hear birds chirping again, the wind blowing, the distant echo of thundering rapids…
My gut sank as I turned to look back to where I had come from. The rapids splashed about fiercely, their swells slamming against the rocks and logs. I stood there in the water and waited. I knew they were out there now, the canoe already flipped and the rapids most surely would be tossing them around like ragdolls. The only chance my friends had now was for me to fish them out when they got to me. I stood there silent for what must have been just minutes, but it felt like hours. Then I saw him. Joey… face down in the calm waters, floating my way. I rushed out and grabbed him. I can remember so clearly how limp his body was. By the time, I got him to shore, I knew something was gravely wrong. But it wasn’t until I laid him on his back that I saw what the problem was. Joey had been impaled on a broken tree branch. It had pierced him between his throat and right collarbone. The whole of the branch must have been something around two feet long and an inch thick. All you could see sticking out from his neck was the dark and warn nub of the branch. Poking out of his left side, near his hip, I could see the other end of it, jagged and covered in red; poking out only inches. With a steady stream of blood still oozing from the wound. I fell back onto the sand, sick to my stomach and gagging at the ghastly sight. I may have learned some first aid from the scouts… but Joey was far beyond anything I could have done to help. I had to be certain though. I crawled back to his side. Reaching out I pressed two fingers firmly against the side of his neck, just under the jawline. No pulse. The poor kid was about as dead as dead can get. I sat there on my knees and just stared for a while. I watched Joey in his stillness, and the rapids for any sign of Daniel.
Sometime later, must have been around sunset, Joey and I were found by a search party from camp. I was so far gone into shock I didn’t speak for the rest of the night. They carted poor Joey off to the morgue, and I was admitted to a local hospital to recover; they never did find Daniels body. The following morning the police came to me for an interview on what had happened. I couldn’t exactly tell them the truth; so, I told them a half truth. I told them exactly what happened minus the time freezing bits. Daniel, Joey, and I stole a canoe, got in over our heads, and flipped it in some rapids. I washed up on shore later and found Joey dead. Ultimately it was found that no one was at fault, authorities chalked it up as a tragic accident. I was released from the hospital within three days with no signs of any injury. They called it a miracle; they weren’t exactly wrong…
I’ve been this way ever since. Whenever I’m in danger, time goes still until I’m somewhere safe; then starts right back up. You’d, be surprised just how often one’s life can be at risk. Because this happens at least twice a month. But I’ve learned to live with it. It may be a mild inconvenience, but it keeps me safe, and time always starts up again. But this time… This time is different; VERY different.
I don’t know how long time has been stuck, but this is the longest it has ever been, and I’m scared. Normally, provided I’m not in an exceptionally dangerous situation, I just have to run a few feet away from where I was. Then time picks right back up, and that asshole who jumped the curb doesn’t hit me. But today, no matter where I go, time has refused to start up again. I have wandered my hometown high and low, trying to find a safe place. It got to the point that I had to leave town hoping that would bring me far away enough from the danger. Now here I am, climbing a damn mountain slope… and I can finally see it. I- I was thinking way too small. Never thought I would see a fireball that big, nor did I ever imagine I’d see it falling out of the sky… well more stuck than falling now. But at this point, I don’t think there is anywhere on Earth that is safe.
| I remember the first time I was aware of it.
I was five, and the neighbours' kid was rushing towards me on his bike. I hated him ever since. He was about to crash right into me, when time froze. I remember feeling petrified, but not as much as you would expect. Perhaps knowing what was about to transpire mitigated the feeling.
There were those two kids playing tag, and that lady in the orange skirt. There they were, frozen in time, as if I were looking at a photograph from the inside out.
Once the shock wore off, I stepped aside; Jake barely missed me, scraping my arm in the process. Later he told my mom he didn't see me. I know he lied. So did my mom, I think she hated him too ever since.
I remember when I was about to slip in the water park; seeing those glistening drops of water, from kids splashing around, frozen in the air. It was quite beautiful. Or the time where only a tiny gap of air stood between my eye and a giant wasp. I'm allergic, so the doctors said.
It was always a few seconds, sometimes a few short minutes, and it was all resolved. I would get to safety, and time moved on.
But not today.
Time froze, and there was nothing I could do about it. My body was too weak. My mom was stood there, next to my bed, frozen like an angelic sculpture, like in those old art books. *I can't remove the cancer out of me* I yelled, but time held me tight in his protective arms. So tight, I couldn't breathe, but not tight enough to squeeze me into the next life. *How do I get out of this?* I was in constant pain, but the end looked so far away.
I used every ounce of will power I had to drag myself to the side of the bed, I wanted to be closer to my mom. That's when I saw the tear; and my heart skipped a beat when I noticed the syringe.
I smiled looking up at my mom. *I'm glad you're my mom* I said. I wonder if she heard me in those frozen moments.
I closed my eyes, and concentrated really hard, trying to will time to move again. I swear I could see the tear glide further down.
Time is fighting against me, but it can't for long. I will fight it too... I got all the time in the world. |
I hope its not too vague, first writing prompt ^^ enjoy
Thank you all so much for the responses it's so much fun to read them :) | [WP] Time freezes for everyone around you each time your life is in danger, leaving only you able to move until you are no longer in danger. One day time freezes, but you can't figure out why, until.. | The first time it happened, that I can remember, I was 7 or 8, I think. Went running out into the street after a ball, and everyone stopped for me. It kind of stuck me as odd, that all the cars on the street stopped so suddenly, and that my ball stopped rolling too, but I didn't really think of it at the time. Got my ball and got back off the road, and everybody started moving again.
The second time I was 13. Family vacation in Florida. My cousin Chris and I were swimming in the ocean when everything froze. Chris froze. The water froze around him, but not around me. It was like it was solid but not ice. Trying to swim just seemed to kick it aside and make a hole, which I fell into, and the hole got worse as I fell further until I hit the bottom, maybe 20 feet down. I tried climbing up but I just kept pushing water back, so instead I kind of crawled/dug/pushed my way to shore, yelling and screaming and afraid, hoping that my parents could help. Once I was close enough to shore that I could get my head above water again, the water started moving. There was a huge thud as the water closed in behind me where I had cut my path. I screamed and screamed and tried to tell my parents what had happened, they freaked out and tried to calm me down. Never saw Chris again. My Dad said it was a rip tide and I was lucky to be alive. Said I was imagining everything that I was saying.
Happened a few more times over the years after that. I learned that it happened whenever I was in serious danger of dying. Once when I was driving, I was distracted and about to miss a red light. Once on a train that turned out it was about to derail. That one got me. I knew when it happened what sort of capability I had, and got myself off the train, but afterwards I couldn't help but wonder if I could have saved all the other people on the train. I've jumped in front of a couple cars and busses since, to save someone from harm, but otherwise, I haven't really come across too many crazy situations.
Today, time froze while I was at the ball game. The roar of the crowd, vendors shouting about beer and hot dogs, all of it stopped. Pillar was half way between second and third, and the ball was hovering just above the second baseman's glove. I stood to look around me, but it didn't appear that there were any immediate threats. I wasn't eating or drinking anything... not about to choke. The ball was going away from me, mostly. So I wasn't going to get beaned...
I wondered if leaving the dome would start things up again, but then who knows what would happen to the people around me? I thought back to the train that I had hopped off of, only to watch it hop off the tracks a hundred meters up and turn into a fireball of a jack-hammer.
My thoughts turned to bigger things. Fire? Gas explosion? Structural failure? Who knew what was holding up the stands. Guy with a gun on the other side of the stadium?
Thirty some-odd sleeps later, I was getting tired of it. Really, really tired of it. I had opted to start moving people out of the stadium. But 40,000 people is a lot of dead weight to lug around. I had managed to move about 700 or so from where I was originally seated. I worked as close to where I original sat as I could, clearing people out row by row, section by section. I knew there would be mass panic and confusion when it all started up again but that didn't matter, at least they'd live, hopefully. The fat ones were the worst. It was a hot day, perpetually hot, and their BO stayed with them. But, I had time, I guess, and this was probably the right thing to do.
The next guy was another fat one. Great. This guy even had a coat on, a big puffy jacket. As I went to start heaving him out of his chair, I felt something hard under his jacket - something that didn't quite feel right. Unzipping his jacket I saw what was causing the time freeze - a suicide vest covered with C4. What started out as shock turned into relief. If I could just get rid of this guy, that would be enough to save everyone!
2 hours later I had dragged his sorry ass out of the stadium, across the road, and was heading towards the water. If I dumped him in, that might lesson the explosion. I paused at the edge of the promenade. Dumping him in that water was surely the right thing to do? I had no idea how to disarm a bomb. Once I convinced myself, in he went, making a blob shaped hole about halfway into the water, no splash. I made sure he had stopped, and then turned around to walk back to the stadium.
About halfway across the road, time started again. A muffled boom and a huge splash sounded behind me. Success! I turned around to watch the water fall down, and that's when I heard the sound of 3 more booms going off inside the stadium.
| I remember the first time I was aware of it.
I was five, and the neighbours' kid was rushing towards me on his bike. I hated him ever since. He was about to crash right into me, when time froze. I remember feeling petrified, but not as much as you would expect. Perhaps knowing what was about to transpire mitigated the feeling.
There were those two kids playing tag, and that lady in the orange skirt. There they were, frozen in time, as if I were looking at a photograph from the inside out.
Once the shock wore off, I stepped aside; Jake barely missed me, scraping my arm in the process. Later he told my mom he didn't see me. I know he lied. So did my mom, I think she hated him too ever since.
I remember when I was about to slip in the water park; seeing those glistening drops of water, from kids splashing around, frozen in the air. It was quite beautiful. Or the time where only a tiny gap of air stood between my eye and a giant wasp. I'm allergic, so the doctors said.
It was always a few seconds, sometimes a few short minutes, and it was all resolved. I would get to safety, and time moved on.
But not today.
Time froze, and there was nothing I could do about it. My body was too weak. My mom was stood there, next to my bed, frozen like an angelic sculpture, like in those old art books. *I can't remove the cancer out of me* I yelled, but time held me tight in his protective arms. So tight, I couldn't breathe, but not tight enough to squeeze me into the next life. *How do I get out of this?* I was in constant pain, but the end looked so far away.
I used every ounce of will power I had to drag myself to the side of the bed, I wanted to be closer to my mom. That's when I saw the tear; and my heart skipped a beat when I noticed the syringe.
I smiled looking up at my mom. *I'm glad you're my mom* I said. I wonder if she heard me in those frozen moments.
I closed my eyes, and concentrated really hard, trying to will time to move again. I swear I could see the tear glide further down.
Time is fighting against me, but it can't for long. I will fight it too... I got all the time in the world. |
I hope its not too vague, first writing prompt ^^ enjoy
Thank you all so much for the responses it's so much fun to read them :) | [WP] Time freezes for everyone around you each time your life is in danger, leaving only you able to move until you are no longer in danger. One day time freezes, but you can't figure out why, until.. | The first time it happened, that I can remember, I was 7 or 8, I think. Went running out into the street after a ball, and everyone stopped for me. It kind of stuck me as odd, that all the cars on the street stopped so suddenly, and that my ball stopped rolling too, but I didn't really think of it at the time. Got my ball and got back off the road, and everybody started moving again.
The second time I was 13. Family vacation in Florida. My cousin Chris and I were swimming in the ocean when everything froze. Chris froze. The water froze around him, but not around me. It was like it was solid but not ice. Trying to swim just seemed to kick it aside and make a hole, which I fell into, and the hole got worse as I fell further until I hit the bottom, maybe 20 feet down. I tried climbing up but I just kept pushing water back, so instead I kind of crawled/dug/pushed my way to shore, yelling and screaming and afraid, hoping that my parents could help. Once I was close enough to shore that I could get my head above water again, the water started moving. There was a huge thud as the water closed in behind me where I had cut my path. I screamed and screamed and tried to tell my parents what had happened, they freaked out and tried to calm me down. Never saw Chris again. My Dad said it was a rip tide and I was lucky to be alive. Said I was imagining everything that I was saying.
Happened a few more times over the years after that. I learned that it happened whenever I was in serious danger of dying. Once when I was driving, I was distracted and about to miss a red light. Once on a train that turned out it was about to derail. That one got me. I knew when it happened what sort of capability I had, and got myself off the train, but afterwards I couldn't help but wonder if I could have saved all the other people on the train. I've jumped in front of a couple cars and busses since, to save someone from harm, but otherwise, I haven't really come across too many crazy situations.
Today, time froze while I was at the ball game. The roar of the crowd, vendors shouting about beer and hot dogs, all of it stopped. Pillar was half way between second and third, and the ball was hovering just above the second baseman's glove. I stood to look around me, but it didn't appear that there were any immediate threats. I wasn't eating or drinking anything... not about to choke. The ball was going away from me, mostly. So I wasn't going to get beaned...
I wondered if leaving the dome would start things up again, but then who knows what would happen to the people around me? I thought back to the train that I had hopped off of, only to watch it hop off the tracks a hundred meters up and turn into a fireball of a jack-hammer.
My thoughts turned to bigger things. Fire? Gas explosion? Structural failure? Who knew what was holding up the stands. Guy with a gun on the other side of the stadium?
Thirty some-odd sleeps later, I was getting tired of it. Really, really tired of it. I had opted to start moving people out of the stadium. But 40,000 people is a lot of dead weight to lug around. I had managed to move about 700 or so from where I was originally seated. I worked as close to where I original sat as I could, clearing people out row by row, section by section. I knew there would be mass panic and confusion when it all started up again but that didn't matter, at least they'd live, hopefully. The fat ones were the worst. It was a hot day, perpetually hot, and their BO stayed with them. But, I had time, I guess, and this was probably the right thing to do.
The next guy was another fat one. Great. This guy even had a coat on, a big puffy jacket. As I went to start heaving him out of his chair, I felt something hard under his jacket - something that didn't quite feel right. Unzipping his jacket I saw what was causing the time freeze - a suicide vest covered with C4. What started out as shock turned into relief. If I could just get rid of this guy, that would be enough to save everyone!
2 hours later I had dragged his sorry ass out of the stadium, across the road, and was heading towards the water. If I dumped him in, that might lesson the explosion. I paused at the edge of the promenade. Dumping him in that water was surely the right thing to do? I had no idea how to disarm a bomb. Once I convinced myself, in he went, making a blob shaped hole about halfway into the water, no splash. I made sure he had stopped, and then turned around to walk back to the stadium.
About halfway across the road, time started again. A muffled boom and a huge splash sounded behind me. Success! I turned around to watch the water fall down, and that's when I heard the sound of 3 more booms going off inside the stadium.
| I don't like this gift, as you might expect me to. I know, you probably think it's handy. It keeps me alive, day in, day out.
It's a living hell.
Today, I roll over in the bed in the basement of my parent's house, where I still live at twenty-eight years of age.
The house is empty, silent as a grave. They both went out hours ago and didn't bother to wake me up. I walk, bare-footed, over to the coffee machine and switch it on. While I wait for it to brew I sit on the kitchen counter and contemplate my miserable existence.
I lost my job three years ago, and after six months of living on the street, I finally swallowed my pride and returned home to live with my parents. I know I'm a disappointment to them. I see it in their eyes every day, their only child, a useless waste of space.
I think about it some more as I carry my coffee back to my room, and as I switch on my laptop. It bores into my brain all day.
They'd be better off without me.
What am I good for?
Nothing.
Worthless.
Useless.
I swing my legs off my bed, mind clouded in a daze. I stumble into the bathroom and switch on the light. I gaze at the medicine cabinet. My father's razor, the empty bath.
And that's when it freezes.
I know because the tap has stopped dripping, water frozen in midair.
I know because the curtain blowing gently in the breeze of the open window is frozen, and the chatter of the birds outside is suddenly silenced.
What?
Wait--
I take one trembling step into the bathroom and then slide down the wall, sitting with my head in my hands.
What have I done?
How can I neutralize the threat if the threat is myself? |
I hope its not too vague, first writing prompt ^^ enjoy
Thank you all so much for the responses it's so much fun to read them :) | [WP] Time freezes for everyone around you each time your life is in danger, leaving only you able to move until you are no longer in danger. One day time freezes, but you can't figure out why, until.. | The first time it happened, that I can remember, I was 7 or 8, I think. Went running out into the street after a ball, and everyone stopped for me. It kind of stuck me as odd, that all the cars on the street stopped so suddenly, and that my ball stopped rolling too, but I didn't really think of it at the time. Got my ball and got back off the road, and everybody started moving again.
The second time I was 13. Family vacation in Florida. My cousin Chris and I were swimming in the ocean when everything froze. Chris froze. The water froze around him, but not around me. It was like it was solid but not ice. Trying to swim just seemed to kick it aside and make a hole, which I fell into, and the hole got worse as I fell further until I hit the bottom, maybe 20 feet down. I tried climbing up but I just kept pushing water back, so instead I kind of crawled/dug/pushed my way to shore, yelling and screaming and afraid, hoping that my parents could help. Once I was close enough to shore that I could get my head above water again, the water started moving. There was a huge thud as the water closed in behind me where I had cut my path. I screamed and screamed and tried to tell my parents what had happened, they freaked out and tried to calm me down. Never saw Chris again. My Dad said it was a rip tide and I was lucky to be alive. Said I was imagining everything that I was saying.
Happened a few more times over the years after that. I learned that it happened whenever I was in serious danger of dying. Once when I was driving, I was distracted and about to miss a red light. Once on a train that turned out it was about to derail. That one got me. I knew when it happened what sort of capability I had, and got myself off the train, but afterwards I couldn't help but wonder if I could have saved all the other people on the train. I've jumped in front of a couple cars and busses since, to save someone from harm, but otherwise, I haven't really come across too many crazy situations.
Today, time froze while I was at the ball game. The roar of the crowd, vendors shouting about beer and hot dogs, all of it stopped. Pillar was half way between second and third, and the ball was hovering just above the second baseman's glove. I stood to look around me, but it didn't appear that there were any immediate threats. I wasn't eating or drinking anything... not about to choke. The ball was going away from me, mostly. So I wasn't going to get beaned...
I wondered if leaving the dome would start things up again, but then who knows what would happen to the people around me? I thought back to the train that I had hopped off of, only to watch it hop off the tracks a hundred meters up and turn into a fireball of a jack-hammer.
My thoughts turned to bigger things. Fire? Gas explosion? Structural failure? Who knew what was holding up the stands. Guy with a gun on the other side of the stadium?
Thirty some-odd sleeps later, I was getting tired of it. Really, really tired of it. I had opted to start moving people out of the stadium. But 40,000 people is a lot of dead weight to lug around. I had managed to move about 700 or so from where I was originally seated. I worked as close to where I original sat as I could, clearing people out row by row, section by section. I knew there would be mass panic and confusion when it all started up again but that didn't matter, at least they'd live, hopefully. The fat ones were the worst. It was a hot day, perpetually hot, and their BO stayed with them. But, I had time, I guess, and this was probably the right thing to do.
The next guy was another fat one. Great. This guy even had a coat on, a big puffy jacket. As I went to start heaving him out of his chair, I felt something hard under his jacket - something that didn't quite feel right. Unzipping his jacket I saw what was causing the time freeze - a suicide vest covered with C4. What started out as shock turned into relief. If I could just get rid of this guy, that would be enough to save everyone!
2 hours later I had dragged his sorry ass out of the stadium, across the road, and was heading towards the water. If I dumped him in, that might lesson the explosion. I paused at the edge of the promenade. Dumping him in that water was surely the right thing to do? I had no idea how to disarm a bomb. Once I convinced myself, in he went, making a blob shaped hole about halfway into the water, no splash. I made sure he had stopped, and then turned around to walk back to the stadium.
About halfway across the road, time started again. A muffled boom and a huge splash sounded behind me. Success! I turned around to watch the water fall down, and that's when I heard the sound of 3 more booms going off inside the stadium.
| Thing about safeguards is you get used to them. Like leaning over a ledge with a handrail when you'd never go that far without it. I don't really remember the first time I almost died. My parents swore that I was a miracle baby though. Evading any number of close calls and mishaps as I scooted about until I learned to walk and talk. Somehow this also lead to me being a bit of an klutz. Not having to worry so much about deadly threats lead to a lot of not paying attention which of course lead to a lot of not-so deadly accidents.
Even so whenever a truly life threatening event kicked in I became VERY observant. Because Time would stop, and I'd have to get out of whatever was about to shuffle my mortal coil to get it going again. Sometimes it would be a stray object flying about, others I'd have to dig myself out as it were. Hell I learned to be a mechanic just from the time my dad's pickup lost the brakes and I had to figure that out.
By high school, I had learned I could even do it to myself. The number of times I made myself fall off the roof or drove my bike off a ledge became innumerable. Really came in handy for last minute homework. Quite the feeling hanging in zero gee scribbling a book report, only needing to reach out and grab a window frame or a branch to resume living. I leveraged this to enjoy life to the fullest. Never caring how dangerous something was. My parents were thrilled with my grades, not so much with my thrill-seeking.
By the time university was over I'd mastered the art of abortive suicide it seemed. Then it finally happened a day I couldn't figure out why time was stopped. Whatever it was happened in the dead of night. I woke up from a full night's rest to find night hadn't finished. What could possibly have threatened me in my sleep? I tore the house apart looking but found nothing. No structural issues, no gas leaks, no intruders, venomous animals in my bed, nothing.
Recalling the event where a man was sneezing next to me once I tried the old standby: get far enough away. By the time I hit the end of the neighborhood I knew something big was up. So I packed a bag and left town, and yet no luck. Then the state, then the region finally I was at the ocean. This was going to be a long trip. |
I hope its not too vague, first writing prompt ^^ enjoy
Thank you all so much for the responses it's so much fun to read them :) | [WP] Time freezes for everyone around you each time your life is in danger, leaving only you able to move until you are no longer in danger. One day time freezes, but you can't figure out why, until.. | His life was falling apart, but he didn't care.
No girlfriend, out of a job, and slowly selling off his possessions to afford more cereal. Could it get worse?
If only they knew how much they all owed him. They should have been dead, all the people causing problems in his life.
His boss, his girlfriend, a couple of co-workers that enjoyed nothing more than being dicks.
He had been 6 when he found out. The car was just about to break through the divider, straight off the edge of the cliff. He remembered distinctly thinking someone had pressed pause on the remote control. It was queer, but as a child, he thought nothing of it, as if it was but a dream.
He gently opened the door, and stepped out, only able to look back at the car for a second, before a whoosh took his parents over the cliff.
He could have done it different. He could have pulled them out, saved them. He hadn't known better, but he couldn't help but think that was all his fault. He vowed to never let it happen again.
He and Jenny had been returning from a party, a little woozy from all they had been drinking, when it happened again. By then he was familiar. He took her under the knee and arm and carried her body, eerily stiff, to the sidewalk, before the whoosh took him again, and the vehicle sped through the red light, unobstructed.
He had also prevented a gas leak from killing him and his colleagues who had stayed late after work, but none of that really mattered to him anymore. That was in the past. Before the same workers whose lives he had saved had connived to get him fired.
The bastards.
By this point, he had understood the pattern. If he was about to die, the universe would let him stop it. He no longer tried to understand it.
So when he noticed that the second hand of his clock had stopped, he thought nothing of it. Not until he had checked his gas, electrical connections, walked outside, and done every other thing he could think of, glancing at his wristwatch only to see the second hand staring back at him idly, stuck on the 4.
He stepped over the pile of vodka bottles strewn across his floor and moved a plate of old cereal to make a seat across from the television. Seinfeld was stuck mid-gesticulation.
Fuck it all, he thought. How did I get so miserable?
He hadn't shaved in days, and had only left the house once in the past week to buy sugared cereal and alcohol. The delivery people brought the rest. Pizza and Chinese.
Fuck it all, once again.
He flung the cereal bowl at the television, but it just hovered two inches away from his hand, as if he had flung it through syrup.
He stood up and moved outside. His shed stood at the corner of his measly backyard, if he could call it that. He moved towards it, tormented by the mystery of it all, and pained by the unfairness of it all. How could someone who had done so much good, be treated like shit? The universe blessed him, but seemed to gain some cruel satisfaction from watching him suffer.
The inside of the shed was dark and damp. An iron rod ran across the width of the space, about 8 feet above the ground, and a wire snaked around it about 4 times before it ended in a lightbulb. Some cheap power tools and a lawn mower were piled in a corner. A thick coil of rope hung from a nail on the wall. He stared at it blankly.
He understood.
| It has happened your entire life. You first noticed the time stops while riding your bike at 13. Trying to impress the cute girl in school you had tried riding down the locally imfamous "suicide hill" which crossed over a fairly busy road at the end. You noticed the semi truck to late and before you knew what happened you were lying in the road with the truck bearing down on you... until it wasn't.
It has happened a couple of times after that, but how often Is the life of an accountant really in jeapordy? However this time was different.
It had been days without any movement from anyone. When it happened you were sitting at your desk eating lunch and figured you were about to choke on that salad. By the way choking is terrifying because you continue to choke and no one can help you lodge it free, but luckily you learned how to fix it yourself.
Anyway, as you looked around and continued to eat you realized that nothing was happening. Time stood still and after a while you just decided to head home.
It has been this way for a long time... well technically it hasn't been because time is frozen but for you it has felt like forever. It didn't take long to come to the conclusion that the world was ending... or you were dying.
You were stuck, forever. Faced with one choice, one decision. Live forever with the world stuck in place, or end your life and risk destroying the entire world. Either way, you would never know the truth. |
I hope its not too vague, first writing prompt ^^ enjoy
Thank you all so much for the responses it's so much fun to read them :) | [WP] Time freezes for everyone around you each time your life is in danger, leaving only you able to move until you are no longer in danger. One day time freezes, but you can't figure out why, until.. | The first time it happened I was just little kid riding my bike. My mom wasn't paying attention to me. She was too deep in her gossip with our neighbor to notice me peddling toward the street. Honestly, I didn't even notice at first. But I was six and day dreaming about how I was a race car. I felt the bump of hitting the curb and I felt my bike tip over. I was spilled out into the street like a dropped sack of potatoes. My elbow was bleeding and scratched up but I was otherwise fine. It wasn't scary, looking up and seeing the grill of the blue Ford F150 inches from my face because it was totally motionless. In fact, everything was. I looked around and mom was frozen with her hands in the air like she just didn't care, making a face that indicated some juicy gossip had been exchanged. I stood up from my indignity, grabbed my bike by the handle bars, righted it and myself back on the side walk and put my foot to the peddle. Without any pomp or circumstance life resumed. Moms arms dropped down. The truck drove off. I remembered the pain on my elbow and started to cry.
It took me a few years to realize I was the only one this happened to. I couldn't understand why so many people died in accidents. Why didn't they just move? When I did put it together I felt awful. Like I had this responsibility to help everyone. But I couldn't make time just stop by willing it. It only happened when I was in immediate danger. Maybe if I put myself into dangerous situations, I thought, I could save people when time stopped for me. But it turns out that is a lot harder to do than say when you live in the suburbs. Eventually I gave up thoughts of being a superhero. Until dad died.
The police came by and broke the news to mom at around 1 am. She had been worried when dad didn't show up from work. I remembered later her calling the office and his phone before deciding he must have stopped off at a bar or something. They said it was a mugging gone bad. He didn't feel anything. It was fast. The police said they'd catch the guy. They never did.
I was racked with guilt. All this power to save myself but I couldn't save the people I loved. Leaving my room became hard. So hard I rarely did it. I graduated from high school, thanks to the pity of my teachers, and got a job as a waiter in the local restaurant. But otherwise I just stopped trying. If I wasn't working I was in my room playing xbox. I told myself everything was fine. I was helping mom with the bills.
To pass the time of existence I took up smoking. But it was a little annoying because every time I sparked up time would stop until the damn cigarette was out. That got annoying. So I tried weed. Same thing. Being reminded of my curse every time I tried to escape it was like hell. I needed a safe release. Eating was it. At first it was just my sweet tooth. Ice cream, cookies, cakes. But when those ran out I turned snacks. And when both were available, I ate both. Work was great because there was no shortage of meals and desserts.
Then, one day, at 7:23am, time stopped again. I was putting my pants on for work when I noticed my music stopped. I poked my head out of my room and sure enough, mom was frozen mid yawn as she poured coffee. Also, there was no danger to be seen. I finished dressing and looked around my room. Nothing. Maybe I was about to trip, I thought. But then why didn't time kick back in. It only ever lasted long enough that I was out of danger.
The house itself was fine. Nothing hurdeling toward it. No gas leak. Not even a plane in the sky. I wandered around for who knows how long, checking everything in the neighborhood. Maniac neighbor with a bomb? No. Sinkhole about to swallow me whole? Not unless it was going to swallow a 120+ home neighborhood. Wildfire? Nada. Zombie apocalypse? Not as far as I could tell. Time had never been stopped this long. Whatever was coming must have be huge, I thought. So I expanded my search radius.
The thing about time being stopped is, you don't know how much time has been passing, not really. Maybe I could hazard a guess but it gets really confusing when the sun never moves an inch. As such, I can't say how long it took me. But eventually I had mapped the entire city of Tulsa and it's surrounded suburbs. Nothing ever came up. I felt like I was losing my mind. There was no one to talk to, only to observe. The world became a museum. A really shitty Museum of Tulsa. It felt voyeuristic, searching through homes for the cause of my danger, watching the people around me. I saw lovers, frozen in kisses. Children mid-whine about getting up for school. Dogs jumping at their masters for walks. One guy, totally trying to secretly jerk off on a morning bus. None of them moved but they all felt more alive than me. Maybe this was Hell.
Eventually I wandered home. I didn't try. My feet just carried me there. Nothing changed. No dust had settled, no mail delivered. And there was mom. Pot of coffee in hand, looking unimpressed with the morning news. When did she get lines around her eyes? How had I never noticed before. And her hair; was that grey I saw?
Emotions hit me all at once and I couldn't breathe. I would never be able to talk to her again, not really. She was here but not here. I could talk to her but she was never going to talk back. I stood next to her and sobbed. Wrapping my arms around her like a little kid, I buried my face in her shoulder. My whole body shook and heaved in pain as I gagged out sobs. I didn't stop until I felt her arms around me.
"Aw Honey, what's wrong?" Her voice ran through me like lightning. I looked up and there was her moving face. She looked startled as hell but it was her. The news anchor babbled in the background, the coffee mom was pouring spilled on the table and dripped down to the floor. "Honey, are you okay?" The look of concern spread across her face. It turned a bit into confusion. "Did you lose weight," she paused, "Since yesterday? Also, honey, maybe a shower is in order." | It has happened your entire life. You first noticed the time stops while riding your bike at 13. Trying to impress the cute girl in school you had tried riding down the locally imfamous "suicide hill" which crossed over a fairly busy road at the end. You noticed the semi truck to late and before you knew what happened you were lying in the road with the truck bearing down on you... until it wasn't.
It has happened a couple of times after that, but how often Is the life of an accountant really in jeapordy? However this time was different.
It had been days without any movement from anyone. When it happened you were sitting at your desk eating lunch and figured you were about to choke on that salad. By the way choking is terrifying because you continue to choke and no one can help you lodge it free, but luckily you learned how to fix it yourself.
Anyway, as you looked around and continued to eat you realized that nothing was happening. Time stood still and after a while you just decided to head home.
It has been this way for a long time... well technically it hasn't been because time is frozen but for you it has felt like forever. It didn't take long to come to the conclusion that the world was ending... or you were dying.
You were stuck, forever. Faced with one choice, one decision. Live forever with the world stuck in place, or end your life and risk destroying the entire world. Either way, you would never know the truth. |
I hope its not too vague, first writing prompt ^^ enjoy
Thank you all so much for the responses it's so much fun to read them :) | [WP] Time freezes for everyone around you each time your life is in danger, leaving only you able to move until you are no longer in danger. One day time freezes, but you can't figure out why, until.. | Hmm.
&nbsp;
Okay, so there's danger nearby.
&nbsp;
Bollocks, I was really wanting to hear the end of that story. Now mother just looks like a special needs child with her jaw wide open.
&nbsp;
Well, lets figure out what it is this time. A quick scan of the cafe and no one here seems threatening. It's a Wednesday afternoon for gods sake, they're all old and decrepit. Note to self; retirement looks fun.
&nbsp;
Quiet outside, barely any traffic. No loud noises. No planes falling out of the sky. No crazy weather. The ground isn't shaking. We're miles away from any ocean. Hmm.
&nbsp;
The fuck is it? I mean, it doesn't usually take this lon- Fuck. That's sore. What is that? Jesus Christ. Okay this fucking hurts. Pain. Lots of it. Am I having a fucking heart attack?!
&nbsp;
CALL AN AMBULA-. No one can hear me. FUCK. Shit shit, what do I do, what do I do. FUCK. Mother, help me. Please HELP ME.
&nbsp;
I was on the floor. Hands grabbing my heart. A sudden realisation sank in. I'm going to die. I'm going to die in front of my mother and she doesn't even know it. The pain became unbearable.
&nbsp;
I'M SORRY MOM, I'M SO SO SORRY. FORGIVE ME.
&nbsp;
Tears rolled down my face. She just sat there with her jaw wide open, mid sentence. | It has happened your entire life. You first noticed the time stops while riding your bike at 13. Trying to impress the cute girl in school you had tried riding down the locally imfamous "suicide hill" which crossed over a fairly busy road at the end. You noticed the semi truck to late and before you knew what happened you were lying in the road with the truck bearing down on you... until it wasn't.
It has happened a couple of times after that, but how often Is the life of an accountant really in jeapordy? However this time was different.
It had been days without any movement from anyone. When it happened you were sitting at your desk eating lunch and figured you were about to choke on that salad. By the way choking is terrifying because you continue to choke and no one can help you lodge it free, but luckily you learned how to fix it yourself.
Anyway, as you looked around and continued to eat you realized that nothing was happening. Time stood still and after a while you just decided to head home.
It has been this way for a long time... well technically it hasn't been because time is frozen but for you it has felt like forever. It didn't take long to come to the conclusion that the world was ending... or you were dying.
You were stuck, forever. Faced with one choice, one decision. Live forever with the world stuck in place, or end your life and risk destroying the entire world. Either way, you would never know the truth. |
I hope its not too vague, first writing prompt ^^ enjoy
Thank you all so much for the responses it's so much fun to read them :) | [WP] Time freezes for everyone around you each time your life is in danger, leaving only you able to move until you are no longer in danger. One day time freezes, but you can't figure out why, until.. | The first time it happened, that I can remember, I was 7 or 8, I think. Went running out into the street after a ball, and everyone stopped for me. It kind of stuck me as odd, that all the cars on the street stopped so suddenly, and that my ball stopped rolling too, but I didn't really think of it at the time. Got my ball and got back off the road, and everybody started moving again.
The second time I was 13. Family vacation in Florida. My cousin Chris and I were swimming in the ocean when everything froze. Chris froze. The water froze around him, but not around me. It was like it was solid but not ice. Trying to swim just seemed to kick it aside and make a hole, which I fell into, and the hole got worse as I fell further until I hit the bottom, maybe 20 feet down. I tried climbing up but I just kept pushing water back, so instead I kind of crawled/dug/pushed my way to shore, yelling and screaming and afraid, hoping that my parents could help. Once I was close enough to shore that I could get my head above water again, the water started moving. There was a huge thud as the water closed in behind me where I had cut my path. I screamed and screamed and tried to tell my parents what had happened, they freaked out and tried to calm me down. Never saw Chris again. My Dad said it was a rip tide and I was lucky to be alive. Said I was imagining everything that I was saying.
Happened a few more times over the years after that. I learned that it happened whenever I was in serious danger of dying. Once when I was driving, I was distracted and about to miss a red light. Once on a train that turned out it was about to derail. That one got me. I knew when it happened what sort of capability I had, and got myself off the train, but afterwards I couldn't help but wonder if I could have saved all the other people on the train. I've jumped in front of a couple cars and busses since, to save someone from harm, but otherwise, I haven't really come across too many crazy situations.
Today, time froze while I was at the ball game. The roar of the crowd, vendors shouting about beer and hot dogs, all of it stopped. Pillar was half way between second and third, and the ball was hovering just above the second baseman's glove. I stood to look around me, but it didn't appear that there were any immediate threats. I wasn't eating or drinking anything... not about to choke. The ball was going away from me, mostly. So I wasn't going to get beaned...
I wondered if leaving the dome would start things up again, but then who knows what would happen to the people around me? I thought back to the train that I had hopped off of, only to watch it hop off the tracks a hundred meters up and turn into a fireball of a jack-hammer.
My thoughts turned to bigger things. Fire? Gas explosion? Structural failure? Who knew what was holding up the stands. Guy with a gun on the other side of the stadium?
Thirty some-odd sleeps later, I was getting tired of it. Really, really tired of it. I had opted to start moving people out of the stadium. But 40,000 people is a lot of dead weight to lug around. I had managed to move about 700 or so from where I was originally seated. I worked as close to where I original sat as I could, clearing people out row by row, section by section. I knew there would be mass panic and confusion when it all started up again but that didn't matter, at least they'd live, hopefully. The fat ones were the worst. It was a hot day, perpetually hot, and their BO stayed with them. But, I had time, I guess, and this was probably the right thing to do.
The next guy was another fat one. Great. This guy even had a coat on, a big puffy jacket. As I went to start heaving him out of his chair, I felt something hard under his jacket - something that didn't quite feel right. Unzipping his jacket I saw what was causing the time freeze - a suicide vest covered with C4. What started out as shock turned into relief. If I could just get rid of this guy, that would be enough to save everyone!
2 hours later I had dragged his sorry ass out of the stadium, across the road, and was heading towards the water. If I dumped him in, that might lesson the explosion. I paused at the edge of the promenade. Dumping him in that water was surely the right thing to do? I had no idea how to disarm a bomb. Once I convinced myself, in he went, making a blob shaped hole about halfway into the water, no splash. I made sure he had stopped, and then turned around to walk back to the stadium.
About halfway across the road, time started again. A muffled boom and a huge splash sounded behind me. Success! I turned around to watch the water fall down, and that's when I heard the sound of 3 more booms going off inside the stadium.
| It has happened your entire life. You first noticed the time stops while riding your bike at 13. Trying to impress the cute girl in school you had tried riding down the locally imfamous "suicide hill" which crossed over a fairly busy road at the end. You noticed the semi truck to late and before you knew what happened you were lying in the road with the truck bearing down on you... until it wasn't.
It has happened a couple of times after that, but how often Is the life of an accountant really in jeapordy? However this time was different.
It had been days without any movement from anyone. When it happened you were sitting at your desk eating lunch and figured you were about to choke on that salad. By the way choking is terrifying because you continue to choke and no one can help you lodge it free, but luckily you learned how to fix it yourself.
Anyway, as you looked around and continued to eat you realized that nothing was happening. Time stood still and after a while you just decided to head home.
It has been this way for a long time... well technically it hasn't been because time is frozen but for you it has felt like forever. It didn't take long to come to the conclusion that the world was ending... or you were dying.
You were stuck, forever. Faced with one choice, one decision. Live forever with the world stuck in place, or end your life and risk destroying the entire world. Either way, you would never know the truth. |
I hope its not too vague, first writing prompt ^^ enjoy
Thank you all so much for the responses it's so much fun to read them :) | [WP] Time freezes for everyone around you each time your life is in danger, leaving only you able to move until you are no longer in danger. One day time freezes, but you can't figure out why, until.. | The world shuddered to a stop with an almost imperceptible jerk. The rain, which had moments ago been tapping a wild staccato on the windshield, stopped - the droplets hanging patiently in the air.
Amy let out a low curse. Even after twenty-seven years of this it didn’t mitigate the initial jolt of surprise. It happened when she was in danger; when her life would be irrevocable altered by a coming event.
It had stopped four times before. Once when she was a child and had gotten her foot stuck in the train tracks, another time it had saved her from a drunken man outside of a bar who had pulled a knife out when she objected to his slurred advances.
One time it had stopped when she was about to cross a busy street, giving her time to notice the giant flatbed truck barreling out of control towards her. That one was her favorite, since she had also taken the opportunity to move a group of school children out of the way. She had felt good about that one.
Each instance of the stopping of time was more or less the same. She’d realize time had stopped, would correct whatever was there to be corrected in order to save her own life, and then time would go on. The truck incident had been the only time she’d been able to help others with this ‘gift.’ The other instances time started immediately after neutralizing whatever threat was bearing down on Amy.
But this time – the fourth time – there was no obvious threat.
Amy got out of her car and craned her neck back and forth, searching for what could possibly have caused time to stop. As she turned her head the droplets of rain came unstuck from time and soaked her hair and face.
Amy was beginning to get anxious when she noticed something odd: a hunched shape sat on a stoop about thirty feet from where she stood.
She wasn’t sure what had grabbed her focus, but when her eyes fell on the huddled shape she felt a thrill of adrenaline. Hesitantly, she walked closer to the shape, all the way dragging the droplets of rain from their place in time – creating a sort of Amy-shaped tunnel in the sheets of waiting rain.
The huddled figure turned out to be a young man about Amy’s age. As she looked down at him, she realized he was upending a bottle of green and white striped pills onto his palm. Amy reached out and pinched one of the pills in her finger and brought it close to her face, inspecting the small oblong. Her eyes widened in recognition.
She’d seen these pills before, had brought them one at a time to her mother as she struggled to regain her health. They took away her pain, but also rendered her mother helpless. Glancing at his open palm again she knew that taking that many would surely kill the young man.
Amy straitened from her position. It wasn’t any business of hers what this man did, and if he wanted to kill himself then that was his choice. But something felt wrong. Amy was drawn to this man in a weird, magnetic way. She watched him for two beats more before finally clicking her teeth and reaching down to gather the pills into her own hands.
Once she had all the pills she pocketed her handful, thinking she’d have to be careful in disposing of them. Before she realized what was happening, though, time came unstuck. The rain continued to fall, traffic continued to flow (except for the people sitting behind Amy’s now abandoned car), and the young man brought his empty palm to his mouth.
His face broke into confusion when he realized the pills were gone, and he looked around wildly, finally noticing Amy standing before him – a look of surprise etched into her face.
Over the sounds of honking and drivers yelling for Amy to move her car, the young man found her shape and tilted his face up to meet Amy’s eyes. His eyes were so brown they looked black. Amy felt a jolt in her stomach as he opened his mouth to speak.
“Who are you?”
| It has happened your entire life. You first noticed the time stops while riding your bike at 13. Trying to impress the cute girl in school you had tried riding down the locally imfamous "suicide hill" which crossed over a fairly busy road at the end. You noticed the semi truck to late and before you knew what happened you were lying in the road with the truck bearing down on you... until it wasn't.
It has happened a couple of times after that, but how often Is the life of an accountant really in jeapordy? However this time was different.
It had been days without any movement from anyone. When it happened you were sitting at your desk eating lunch and figured you were about to choke on that salad. By the way choking is terrifying because you continue to choke and no one can help you lodge it free, but luckily you learned how to fix it yourself.
Anyway, as you looked around and continued to eat you realized that nothing was happening. Time stood still and after a while you just decided to head home.
It has been this way for a long time... well technically it hasn't been because time is frozen but for you it has felt like forever. It didn't take long to come to the conclusion that the world was ending... or you were dying.
You were stuck, forever. Faced with one choice, one decision. Live forever with the world stuck in place, or end your life and risk destroying the entire world. Either way, you would never know the truth. |
I hope its not too vague, first writing prompt ^^ enjoy
Thank you all so much for the responses it's so much fun to read them :) | [WP] Time freezes for everyone around you each time your life is in danger, leaving only you able to move until you are no longer in danger. One day time freezes, but you can't figure out why, until.. | The first time it happened, that I can remember, I was 7 or 8, I think. Went running out into the street after a ball, and everyone stopped for me. It kind of stuck me as odd, that all the cars on the street stopped so suddenly, and that my ball stopped rolling too, but I didn't really think of it at the time. Got my ball and got back off the road, and everybody started moving again.
The second time I was 13. Family vacation in Florida. My cousin Chris and I were swimming in the ocean when everything froze. Chris froze. The water froze around him, but not around me. It was like it was solid but not ice. Trying to swim just seemed to kick it aside and make a hole, which I fell into, and the hole got worse as I fell further until I hit the bottom, maybe 20 feet down. I tried climbing up but I just kept pushing water back, so instead I kind of crawled/dug/pushed my way to shore, yelling and screaming and afraid, hoping that my parents could help. Once I was close enough to shore that I could get my head above water again, the water started moving. There was a huge thud as the water closed in behind me where I had cut my path. I screamed and screamed and tried to tell my parents what had happened, they freaked out and tried to calm me down. Never saw Chris again. My Dad said it was a rip tide and I was lucky to be alive. Said I was imagining everything that I was saying.
Happened a few more times over the years after that. I learned that it happened whenever I was in serious danger of dying. Once when I was driving, I was distracted and about to miss a red light. Once on a train that turned out it was about to derail. That one got me. I knew when it happened what sort of capability I had, and got myself off the train, but afterwards I couldn't help but wonder if I could have saved all the other people on the train. I've jumped in front of a couple cars and busses since, to save someone from harm, but otherwise, I haven't really come across too many crazy situations.
Today, time froze while I was at the ball game. The roar of the crowd, vendors shouting about beer and hot dogs, all of it stopped. Pillar was half way between second and third, and the ball was hovering just above the second baseman's glove. I stood to look around me, but it didn't appear that there were any immediate threats. I wasn't eating or drinking anything... not about to choke. The ball was going away from me, mostly. So I wasn't going to get beaned...
I wondered if leaving the dome would start things up again, but then who knows what would happen to the people around me? I thought back to the train that I had hopped off of, only to watch it hop off the tracks a hundred meters up and turn into a fireball of a jack-hammer.
My thoughts turned to bigger things. Fire? Gas explosion? Structural failure? Who knew what was holding up the stands. Guy with a gun on the other side of the stadium?
Thirty some-odd sleeps later, I was getting tired of it. Really, really tired of it. I had opted to start moving people out of the stadium. But 40,000 people is a lot of dead weight to lug around. I had managed to move about 700 or so from where I was originally seated. I worked as close to where I original sat as I could, clearing people out row by row, section by section. I knew there would be mass panic and confusion when it all started up again but that didn't matter, at least they'd live, hopefully. The fat ones were the worst. It was a hot day, perpetually hot, and their BO stayed with them. But, I had time, I guess, and this was probably the right thing to do.
The next guy was another fat one. Great. This guy even had a coat on, a big puffy jacket. As I went to start heaving him out of his chair, I felt something hard under his jacket - something that didn't quite feel right. Unzipping his jacket I saw what was causing the time freeze - a suicide vest covered with C4. What started out as shock turned into relief. If I could just get rid of this guy, that would be enough to save everyone!
2 hours later I had dragged his sorry ass out of the stadium, across the road, and was heading towards the water. If I dumped him in, that might lesson the explosion. I paused at the edge of the promenade. Dumping him in that water was surely the right thing to do? I had no idea how to disarm a bomb. Once I convinced myself, in he went, making a blob shaped hole about halfway into the water, no splash. I made sure he had stopped, and then turned around to walk back to the stadium.
About halfway across the road, time started again. A muffled boom and a huge splash sounded behind me. Success! I turned around to watch the water fall down, and that's when I heard the sound of 3 more booms going off inside the stadium.
| His life was falling apart, but he didn't care.
No girlfriend, out of a job, and slowly selling off his possessions to afford more cereal. Could it get worse?
If only they knew how much they all owed him. They should have been dead, all the people causing problems in his life.
His boss, his girlfriend, a couple of co-workers that enjoyed nothing more than being dicks.
He had been 6 when he found out. The car was just about to break through the divider, straight off the edge of the cliff. He remembered distinctly thinking someone had pressed pause on the remote control. It was queer, but as a child, he thought nothing of it, as if it was but a dream.
He gently opened the door, and stepped out, only able to look back at the car for a second, before a whoosh took his parents over the cliff.
He could have done it different. He could have pulled them out, saved them. He hadn't known better, but he couldn't help but think that was all his fault. He vowed to never let it happen again.
He and Jenny had been returning from a party, a little woozy from all they had been drinking, when it happened again. By then he was familiar. He took her under the knee and arm and carried her body, eerily stiff, to the sidewalk, before the whoosh took him again, and the vehicle sped through the red light, unobstructed.
He had also prevented a gas leak from killing him and his colleagues who had stayed late after work, but none of that really mattered to him anymore. That was in the past. Before the same workers whose lives he had saved had connived to get him fired.
The bastards.
By this point, he had understood the pattern. If he was about to die, the universe would let him stop it. He no longer tried to understand it.
So when he noticed that the second hand of his clock had stopped, he thought nothing of it. Not until he had checked his gas, electrical connections, walked outside, and done every other thing he could think of, glancing at his wristwatch only to see the second hand staring back at him idly, stuck on the 4.
He stepped over the pile of vodka bottles strewn across his floor and moved a plate of old cereal to make a seat across from the television. Seinfeld was stuck mid-gesticulation.
Fuck it all, he thought. How did I get so miserable?
He hadn't shaved in days, and had only left the house once in the past week to buy sugared cereal and alcohol. The delivery people brought the rest. Pizza and Chinese.
Fuck it all, once again.
He flung the cereal bowl at the television, but it just hovered two inches away from his hand, as if he had flung it through syrup.
He stood up and moved outside. His shed stood at the corner of his measly backyard, if he could call it that. He moved towards it, tormented by the mystery of it all, and pained by the unfairness of it all. How could someone who had done so much good, be treated like shit? The universe blessed him, but seemed to gain some cruel satisfaction from watching him suffer.
The inside of the shed was dark and damp. An iron rod ran across the width of the space, about 8 feet above the ground, and a wire snaked around it about 4 times before it ended in a lightbulb. Some cheap power tools and a lawn mower were piled in a corner. A thick coil of rope hung from a nail on the wall. He stared at it blankly.
He understood.
|
I hope its not too vague, first writing prompt ^^ enjoy
Thank you all so much for the responses it's so much fun to read them :) | [WP] Time freezes for everyone around you each time your life is in danger, leaving only you able to move until you are no longer in danger. One day time freezes, but you can't figure out why, until.. | The first time it happened, that I can remember, I was 7 or 8, I think. Went running out into the street after a ball, and everyone stopped for me. It kind of stuck me as odd, that all the cars on the street stopped so suddenly, and that my ball stopped rolling too, but I didn't really think of it at the time. Got my ball and got back off the road, and everybody started moving again.
The second time I was 13. Family vacation in Florida. My cousin Chris and I were swimming in the ocean when everything froze. Chris froze. The water froze around him, but not around me. It was like it was solid but not ice. Trying to swim just seemed to kick it aside and make a hole, which I fell into, and the hole got worse as I fell further until I hit the bottom, maybe 20 feet down. I tried climbing up but I just kept pushing water back, so instead I kind of crawled/dug/pushed my way to shore, yelling and screaming and afraid, hoping that my parents could help. Once I was close enough to shore that I could get my head above water again, the water started moving. There was a huge thud as the water closed in behind me where I had cut my path. I screamed and screamed and tried to tell my parents what had happened, they freaked out and tried to calm me down. Never saw Chris again. My Dad said it was a rip tide and I was lucky to be alive. Said I was imagining everything that I was saying.
Happened a few more times over the years after that. I learned that it happened whenever I was in serious danger of dying. Once when I was driving, I was distracted and about to miss a red light. Once on a train that turned out it was about to derail. That one got me. I knew when it happened what sort of capability I had, and got myself off the train, but afterwards I couldn't help but wonder if I could have saved all the other people on the train. I've jumped in front of a couple cars and busses since, to save someone from harm, but otherwise, I haven't really come across too many crazy situations.
Today, time froze while I was at the ball game. The roar of the crowd, vendors shouting about beer and hot dogs, all of it stopped. Pillar was half way between second and third, and the ball was hovering just above the second baseman's glove. I stood to look around me, but it didn't appear that there were any immediate threats. I wasn't eating or drinking anything... not about to choke. The ball was going away from me, mostly. So I wasn't going to get beaned...
I wondered if leaving the dome would start things up again, but then who knows what would happen to the people around me? I thought back to the train that I had hopped off of, only to watch it hop off the tracks a hundred meters up and turn into a fireball of a jack-hammer.
My thoughts turned to bigger things. Fire? Gas explosion? Structural failure? Who knew what was holding up the stands. Guy with a gun on the other side of the stadium?
Thirty some-odd sleeps later, I was getting tired of it. Really, really tired of it. I had opted to start moving people out of the stadium. But 40,000 people is a lot of dead weight to lug around. I had managed to move about 700 or so from where I was originally seated. I worked as close to where I original sat as I could, clearing people out row by row, section by section. I knew there would be mass panic and confusion when it all started up again but that didn't matter, at least they'd live, hopefully. The fat ones were the worst. It was a hot day, perpetually hot, and their BO stayed with them. But, I had time, I guess, and this was probably the right thing to do.
The next guy was another fat one. Great. This guy even had a coat on, a big puffy jacket. As I went to start heaving him out of his chair, I felt something hard under his jacket - something that didn't quite feel right. Unzipping his jacket I saw what was causing the time freeze - a suicide vest covered with C4. What started out as shock turned into relief. If I could just get rid of this guy, that would be enough to save everyone!
2 hours later I had dragged his sorry ass out of the stadium, across the road, and was heading towards the water. If I dumped him in, that might lesson the explosion. I paused at the edge of the promenade. Dumping him in that water was surely the right thing to do? I had no idea how to disarm a bomb. Once I convinced myself, in he went, making a blob shaped hole about halfway into the water, no splash. I made sure he had stopped, and then turned around to walk back to the stadium.
About halfway across the road, time started again. A muffled boom and a huge splash sounded behind me. Success! I turned around to watch the water fall down, and that's when I heard the sound of 3 more booms going off inside the stadium.
| The first time it happened I was just little kid riding my bike. My mom wasn't paying attention to me. She was too deep in her gossip with our neighbor to notice me peddling toward the street. Honestly, I didn't even notice at first. But I was six and day dreaming about how I was a race car. I felt the bump of hitting the curb and I felt my bike tip over. I was spilled out into the street like a dropped sack of potatoes. My elbow was bleeding and scratched up but I was otherwise fine. It wasn't scary, looking up and seeing the grill of the blue Ford F150 inches from my face because it was totally motionless. In fact, everything was. I looked around and mom was frozen with her hands in the air like she just didn't care, making a face that indicated some juicy gossip had been exchanged. I stood up from my indignity, grabbed my bike by the handle bars, righted it and myself back on the side walk and put my foot to the peddle. Without any pomp or circumstance life resumed. Moms arms dropped down. The truck drove off. I remembered the pain on my elbow and started to cry.
It took me a few years to realize I was the only one this happened to. I couldn't understand why so many people died in accidents. Why didn't they just move? When I did put it together I felt awful. Like I had this responsibility to help everyone. But I couldn't make time just stop by willing it. It only happened when I was in immediate danger. Maybe if I put myself into dangerous situations, I thought, I could save people when time stopped for me. But it turns out that is a lot harder to do than say when you live in the suburbs. Eventually I gave up thoughts of being a superhero. Until dad died.
The police came by and broke the news to mom at around 1 am. She had been worried when dad didn't show up from work. I remembered later her calling the office and his phone before deciding he must have stopped off at a bar or something. They said it was a mugging gone bad. He didn't feel anything. It was fast. The police said they'd catch the guy. They never did.
I was racked with guilt. All this power to save myself but I couldn't save the people I loved. Leaving my room became hard. So hard I rarely did it. I graduated from high school, thanks to the pity of my teachers, and got a job as a waiter in the local restaurant. But otherwise I just stopped trying. If I wasn't working I was in my room playing xbox. I told myself everything was fine. I was helping mom with the bills.
To pass the time of existence I took up smoking. But it was a little annoying because every time I sparked up time would stop until the damn cigarette was out. That got annoying. So I tried weed. Same thing. Being reminded of my curse every time I tried to escape it was like hell. I needed a safe release. Eating was it. At first it was just my sweet tooth. Ice cream, cookies, cakes. But when those ran out I turned snacks. And when both were available, I ate both. Work was great because there was no shortage of meals and desserts.
Then, one day, at 7:23am, time stopped again. I was putting my pants on for work when I noticed my music stopped. I poked my head out of my room and sure enough, mom was frozen mid yawn as she poured coffee. Also, there was no danger to be seen. I finished dressing and looked around my room. Nothing. Maybe I was about to trip, I thought. But then why didn't time kick back in. It only ever lasted long enough that I was out of danger.
The house itself was fine. Nothing hurdeling toward it. No gas leak. Not even a plane in the sky. I wandered around for who knows how long, checking everything in the neighborhood. Maniac neighbor with a bomb? No. Sinkhole about to swallow me whole? Not unless it was going to swallow a 120+ home neighborhood. Wildfire? Nada. Zombie apocalypse? Not as far as I could tell. Time had never been stopped this long. Whatever was coming must have be huge, I thought. So I expanded my search radius.
The thing about time being stopped is, you don't know how much time has been passing, not really. Maybe I could hazard a guess but it gets really confusing when the sun never moves an inch. As such, I can't say how long it took me. But eventually I had mapped the entire city of Tulsa and it's surrounded suburbs. Nothing ever came up. I felt like I was losing my mind. There was no one to talk to, only to observe. The world became a museum. A really shitty Museum of Tulsa. It felt voyeuristic, searching through homes for the cause of my danger, watching the people around me. I saw lovers, frozen in kisses. Children mid-whine about getting up for school. Dogs jumping at their masters for walks. One guy, totally trying to secretly jerk off on a morning bus. None of them moved but they all felt more alive than me. Maybe this was Hell.
Eventually I wandered home. I didn't try. My feet just carried me there. Nothing changed. No dust had settled, no mail delivered. And there was mom. Pot of coffee in hand, looking unimpressed with the morning news. When did she get lines around her eyes? How had I never noticed before. And her hair; was that grey I saw?
Emotions hit me all at once and I couldn't breathe. I would never be able to talk to her again, not really. She was here but not here. I could talk to her but she was never going to talk back. I stood next to her and sobbed. Wrapping my arms around her like a little kid, I buried my face in her shoulder. My whole body shook and heaved in pain as I gagged out sobs. I didn't stop until I felt her arms around me.
"Aw Honey, what's wrong?" Her voice ran through me like lightning. I looked up and there was her moving face. She looked startled as hell but it was her. The news anchor babbled in the background, the coffee mom was pouring spilled on the table and dripped down to the floor. "Honey, are you okay?" The look of concern spread across her face. It turned a bit into confusion. "Did you lose weight," she paused, "Since yesterday? Also, honey, maybe a shower is in order." |
I hope its not too vague, first writing prompt ^^ enjoy
Thank you all so much for the responses it's so much fun to read them :) | [WP] Time freezes for everyone around you each time your life is in danger, leaving only you able to move until you are no longer in danger. One day time freezes, but you can't figure out why, until.. | The world shuddered to a stop with an almost imperceptible jerk. The rain, which had moments ago been tapping a wild staccato on the windshield, stopped - the droplets hanging patiently in the air.
Amy let out a low curse. Even after twenty-seven years of this it didn’t mitigate the initial jolt of surprise. It happened when she was in danger; when her life would be irrevocable altered by a coming event.
It had stopped four times before. Once when she was a child and had gotten her foot stuck in the train tracks, another time it had saved her from a drunken man outside of a bar who had pulled a knife out when she objected to his slurred advances.
One time it had stopped when she was about to cross a busy street, giving her time to notice the giant flatbed truck barreling out of control towards her. That one was her favorite, since she had also taken the opportunity to move a group of school children out of the way. She had felt good about that one.
Each instance of the stopping of time was more or less the same. She’d realize time had stopped, would correct whatever was there to be corrected in order to save her own life, and then time would go on. The truck incident had been the only time she’d been able to help others with this ‘gift.’ The other instances time started immediately after neutralizing whatever threat was bearing down on Amy.
But this time – the fourth time – there was no obvious threat.
Amy got out of her car and craned her neck back and forth, searching for what could possibly have caused time to stop. As she turned her head the droplets of rain came unstuck from time and soaked her hair and face.
Amy was beginning to get anxious when she noticed something odd: a hunched shape sat on a stoop about thirty feet from where she stood.
She wasn’t sure what had grabbed her focus, but when her eyes fell on the huddled shape she felt a thrill of adrenaline. Hesitantly, she walked closer to the shape, all the way dragging the droplets of rain from their place in time – creating a sort of Amy-shaped tunnel in the sheets of waiting rain.
The huddled figure turned out to be a young man about Amy’s age. As she looked down at him, she realized he was upending a bottle of green and white striped pills onto his palm. Amy reached out and pinched one of the pills in her finger and brought it close to her face, inspecting the small oblong. Her eyes widened in recognition.
She’d seen these pills before, had brought them one at a time to her mother as she struggled to regain her health. They took away her pain, but also rendered her mother helpless. Glancing at his open palm again she knew that taking that many would surely kill the young man.
Amy straitened from her position. It wasn’t any business of hers what this man did, and if he wanted to kill himself then that was his choice. But something felt wrong. Amy was drawn to this man in a weird, magnetic way. She watched him for two beats more before finally clicking her teeth and reaching down to gather the pills into her own hands.
Once she had all the pills she pocketed her handful, thinking she’d have to be careful in disposing of them. Before she realized what was happening, though, time came unstuck. The rain continued to fall, traffic continued to flow (except for the people sitting behind Amy’s now abandoned car), and the young man brought his empty palm to his mouth.
His face broke into confusion when he realized the pills were gone, and he looked around wildly, finally noticing Amy standing before him – a look of surprise etched into her face.
Over the sounds of honking and drivers yelling for Amy to move her car, the young man found her shape and tilted his face up to meet Amy’s eyes. His eyes were so brown they looked black. Amy felt a jolt in her stomach as he opened his mouth to speak.
“Who are you?”
| The first time it happened I was just little kid riding my bike. My mom wasn't paying attention to me. She was too deep in her gossip with our neighbor to notice me peddling toward the street. Honestly, I didn't even notice at first. But I was six and day dreaming about how I was a race car. I felt the bump of hitting the curb and I felt my bike tip over. I was spilled out into the street like a dropped sack of potatoes. My elbow was bleeding and scratched up but I was otherwise fine. It wasn't scary, looking up and seeing the grill of the blue Ford F150 inches from my face because it was totally motionless. In fact, everything was. I looked around and mom was frozen with her hands in the air like she just didn't care, making a face that indicated some juicy gossip had been exchanged. I stood up from my indignity, grabbed my bike by the handle bars, righted it and myself back on the side walk and put my foot to the peddle. Without any pomp or circumstance life resumed. Moms arms dropped down. The truck drove off. I remembered the pain on my elbow and started to cry.
It took me a few years to realize I was the only one this happened to. I couldn't understand why so many people died in accidents. Why didn't they just move? When I did put it together I felt awful. Like I had this responsibility to help everyone. But I couldn't make time just stop by willing it. It only happened when I was in immediate danger. Maybe if I put myself into dangerous situations, I thought, I could save people when time stopped for me. But it turns out that is a lot harder to do than say when you live in the suburbs. Eventually I gave up thoughts of being a superhero. Until dad died.
The police came by and broke the news to mom at around 1 am. She had been worried when dad didn't show up from work. I remembered later her calling the office and his phone before deciding he must have stopped off at a bar or something. They said it was a mugging gone bad. He didn't feel anything. It was fast. The police said they'd catch the guy. They never did.
I was racked with guilt. All this power to save myself but I couldn't save the people I loved. Leaving my room became hard. So hard I rarely did it. I graduated from high school, thanks to the pity of my teachers, and got a job as a waiter in the local restaurant. But otherwise I just stopped trying. If I wasn't working I was in my room playing xbox. I told myself everything was fine. I was helping mom with the bills.
To pass the time of existence I took up smoking. But it was a little annoying because every time I sparked up time would stop until the damn cigarette was out. That got annoying. So I tried weed. Same thing. Being reminded of my curse every time I tried to escape it was like hell. I needed a safe release. Eating was it. At first it was just my sweet tooth. Ice cream, cookies, cakes. But when those ran out I turned snacks. And when both were available, I ate both. Work was great because there was no shortage of meals and desserts.
Then, one day, at 7:23am, time stopped again. I was putting my pants on for work when I noticed my music stopped. I poked my head out of my room and sure enough, mom was frozen mid yawn as she poured coffee. Also, there was no danger to be seen. I finished dressing and looked around my room. Nothing. Maybe I was about to trip, I thought. But then why didn't time kick back in. It only ever lasted long enough that I was out of danger.
The house itself was fine. Nothing hurdeling toward it. No gas leak. Not even a plane in the sky. I wandered around for who knows how long, checking everything in the neighborhood. Maniac neighbor with a bomb? No. Sinkhole about to swallow me whole? Not unless it was going to swallow a 120+ home neighborhood. Wildfire? Nada. Zombie apocalypse? Not as far as I could tell. Time had never been stopped this long. Whatever was coming must have be huge, I thought. So I expanded my search radius.
The thing about time being stopped is, you don't know how much time has been passing, not really. Maybe I could hazard a guess but it gets really confusing when the sun never moves an inch. As such, I can't say how long it took me. But eventually I had mapped the entire city of Tulsa and it's surrounded suburbs. Nothing ever came up. I felt like I was losing my mind. There was no one to talk to, only to observe. The world became a museum. A really shitty Museum of Tulsa. It felt voyeuristic, searching through homes for the cause of my danger, watching the people around me. I saw lovers, frozen in kisses. Children mid-whine about getting up for school. Dogs jumping at their masters for walks. One guy, totally trying to secretly jerk off on a morning bus. None of them moved but they all felt more alive than me. Maybe this was Hell.
Eventually I wandered home. I didn't try. My feet just carried me there. Nothing changed. No dust had settled, no mail delivered. And there was mom. Pot of coffee in hand, looking unimpressed with the morning news. When did she get lines around her eyes? How had I never noticed before. And her hair; was that grey I saw?
Emotions hit me all at once and I couldn't breathe. I would never be able to talk to her again, not really. She was here but not here. I could talk to her but she was never going to talk back. I stood next to her and sobbed. Wrapping my arms around her like a little kid, I buried my face in her shoulder. My whole body shook and heaved in pain as I gagged out sobs. I didn't stop until I felt her arms around me.
"Aw Honey, what's wrong?" Her voice ran through me like lightning. I looked up and there was her moving face. She looked startled as hell but it was her. The news anchor babbled in the background, the coffee mom was pouring spilled on the table and dripped down to the floor. "Honey, are you okay?" The look of concern spread across her face. It turned a bit into confusion. "Did you lose weight," she paused, "Since yesterday? Also, honey, maybe a shower is in order." |
I hope its not too vague, first writing prompt ^^ enjoy
Thank you all so much for the responses it's so much fun to read them :) | [WP] Time freezes for everyone around you each time your life is in danger, leaving only you able to move until you are no longer in danger. One day time freezes, but you can't figure out why, until.. | The first time it happened, that I can remember, I was 7 or 8, I think. Went running out into the street after a ball, and everyone stopped for me. It kind of stuck me as odd, that all the cars on the street stopped so suddenly, and that my ball stopped rolling too, but I didn't really think of it at the time. Got my ball and got back off the road, and everybody started moving again.
The second time I was 13. Family vacation in Florida. My cousin Chris and I were swimming in the ocean when everything froze. Chris froze. The water froze around him, but not around me. It was like it was solid but not ice. Trying to swim just seemed to kick it aside and make a hole, which I fell into, and the hole got worse as I fell further until I hit the bottom, maybe 20 feet down. I tried climbing up but I just kept pushing water back, so instead I kind of crawled/dug/pushed my way to shore, yelling and screaming and afraid, hoping that my parents could help. Once I was close enough to shore that I could get my head above water again, the water started moving. There was a huge thud as the water closed in behind me where I had cut my path. I screamed and screamed and tried to tell my parents what had happened, they freaked out and tried to calm me down. Never saw Chris again. My Dad said it was a rip tide and I was lucky to be alive. Said I was imagining everything that I was saying.
Happened a few more times over the years after that. I learned that it happened whenever I was in serious danger of dying. Once when I was driving, I was distracted and about to miss a red light. Once on a train that turned out it was about to derail. That one got me. I knew when it happened what sort of capability I had, and got myself off the train, but afterwards I couldn't help but wonder if I could have saved all the other people on the train. I've jumped in front of a couple cars and busses since, to save someone from harm, but otherwise, I haven't really come across too many crazy situations.
Today, time froze while I was at the ball game. The roar of the crowd, vendors shouting about beer and hot dogs, all of it stopped. Pillar was half way between second and third, and the ball was hovering just above the second baseman's glove. I stood to look around me, but it didn't appear that there were any immediate threats. I wasn't eating or drinking anything... not about to choke. The ball was going away from me, mostly. So I wasn't going to get beaned...
I wondered if leaving the dome would start things up again, but then who knows what would happen to the people around me? I thought back to the train that I had hopped off of, only to watch it hop off the tracks a hundred meters up and turn into a fireball of a jack-hammer.
My thoughts turned to bigger things. Fire? Gas explosion? Structural failure? Who knew what was holding up the stands. Guy with a gun on the other side of the stadium?
Thirty some-odd sleeps later, I was getting tired of it. Really, really tired of it. I had opted to start moving people out of the stadium. But 40,000 people is a lot of dead weight to lug around. I had managed to move about 700 or so from where I was originally seated. I worked as close to where I original sat as I could, clearing people out row by row, section by section. I knew there would be mass panic and confusion when it all started up again but that didn't matter, at least they'd live, hopefully. The fat ones were the worst. It was a hot day, perpetually hot, and their BO stayed with them. But, I had time, I guess, and this was probably the right thing to do.
The next guy was another fat one. Great. This guy even had a coat on, a big puffy jacket. As I went to start heaving him out of his chair, I felt something hard under his jacket - something that didn't quite feel right. Unzipping his jacket I saw what was causing the time freeze - a suicide vest covered with C4. What started out as shock turned into relief. If I could just get rid of this guy, that would be enough to save everyone!
2 hours later I had dragged his sorry ass out of the stadium, across the road, and was heading towards the water. If I dumped him in, that might lesson the explosion. I paused at the edge of the promenade. Dumping him in that water was surely the right thing to do? I had no idea how to disarm a bomb. Once I convinced myself, in he went, making a blob shaped hole about halfway into the water, no splash. I made sure he had stopped, and then turned around to walk back to the stadium.
About halfway across the road, time started again. A muffled boom and a huge splash sounded behind me. Success! I turned around to watch the water fall down, and that's when I heard the sound of 3 more booms going off inside the stadium.
| Hmm.
&nbsp;
Okay, so there's danger nearby.
&nbsp;
Bollocks, I was really wanting to hear the end of that story. Now mother just looks like a special needs child with her jaw wide open.
&nbsp;
Well, lets figure out what it is this time. A quick scan of the cafe and no one here seems threatening. It's a Wednesday afternoon for gods sake, they're all old and decrepit. Note to self; retirement looks fun.
&nbsp;
Quiet outside, barely any traffic. No loud noises. No planes falling out of the sky. No crazy weather. The ground isn't shaking. We're miles away from any ocean. Hmm.
&nbsp;
The fuck is it? I mean, it doesn't usually take this lon- Fuck. That's sore. What is that? Jesus Christ. Okay this fucking hurts. Pain. Lots of it. Am I having a fucking heart attack?!
&nbsp;
CALL AN AMBULA-. No one can hear me. FUCK. Shit shit, what do I do, what do I do. FUCK. Mother, help me. Please HELP ME.
&nbsp;
I was on the floor. Hands grabbing my heart. A sudden realisation sank in. I'm going to die. I'm going to die in front of my mother and she doesn't even know it. The pain became unbearable.
&nbsp;
I'M SORRY MOM, I'M SO SO SORRY. FORGIVE ME.
&nbsp;
Tears rolled down my face. She just sat there with her jaw wide open, mid sentence. |
I hope its not too vague, first writing prompt ^^ enjoy
Thank you all so much for the responses it's so much fun to read them :) | [WP] Time freezes for everyone around you each time your life is in danger, leaving only you able to move until you are no longer in danger. One day time freezes, but you can't figure out why, until.. | The world shuddered to a stop with an almost imperceptible jerk. The rain, which had moments ago been tapping a wild staccato on the windshield, stopped - the droplets hanging patiently in the air.
Amy let out a low curse. Even after twenty-seven years of this it didn’t mitigate the initial jolt of surprise. It happened when she was in danger; when her life would be irrevocable altered by a coming event.
It had stopped four times before. Once when she was a child and had gotten her foot stuck in the train tracks, another time it had saved her from a drunken man outside of a bar who had pulled a knife out when she objected to his slurred advances.
One time it had stopped when she was about to cross a busy street, giving her time to notice the giant flatbed truck barreling out of control towards her. That one was her favorite, since she had also taken the opportunity to move a group of school children out of the way. She had felt good about that one.
Each instance of the stopping of time was more or less the same. She’d realize time had stopped, would correct whatever was there to be corrected in order to save her own life, and then time would go on. The truck incident had been the only time she’d been able to help others with this ‘gift.’ The other instances time started immediately after neutralizing whatever threat was bearing down on Amy.
But this time – the fourth time – there was no obvious threat.
Amy got out of her car and craned her neck back and forth, searching for what could possibly have caused time to stop. As she turned her head the droplets of rain came unstuck from time and soaked her hair and face.
Amy was beginning to get anxious when she noticed something odd: a hunched shape sat on a stoop about thirty feet from where she stood.
She wasn’t sure what had grabbed her focus, but when her eyes fell on the huddled shape she felt a thrill of adrenaline. Hesitantly, she walked closer to the shape, all the way dragging the droplets of rain from their place in time – creating a sort of Amy-shaped tunnel in the sheets of waiting rain.
The huddled figure turned out to be a young man about Amy’s age. As she looked down at him, she realized he was upending a bottle of green and white striped pills onto his palm. Amy reached out and pinched one of the pills in her finger and brought it close to her face, inspecting the small oblong. Her eyes widened in recognition.
She’d seen these pills before, had brought them one at a time to her mother as she struggled to regain her health. They took away her pain, but also rendered her mother helpless. Glancing at his open palm again she knew that taking that many would surely kill the young man.
Amy straitened from her position. It wasn’t any business of hers what this man did, and if he wanted to kill himself then that was his choice. But something felt wrong. Amy was drawn to this man in a weird, magnetic way. She watched him for two beats more before finally clicking her teeth and reaching down to gather the pills into her own hands.
Once she had all the pills she pocketed her handful, thinking she’d have to be careful in disposing of them. Before she realized what was happening, though, time came unstuck. The rain continued to fall, traffic continued to flow (except for the people sitting behind Amy’s now abandoned car), and the young man brought his empty palm to his mouth.
His face broke into confusion when he realized the pills were gone, and he looked around wildly, finally noticing Amy standing before him – a look of surprise etched into her face.
Over the sounds of honking and drivers yelling for Amy to move her car, the young man found her shape and tilted his face up to meet Amy’s eyes. His eyes were so brown they looked black. Amy felt a jolt in her stomach as he opened his mouth to speak.
“Who are you?”
| Hmm.
&nbsp;
Okay, so there's danger nearby.
&nbsp;
Bollocks, I was really wanting to hear the end of that story. Now mother just looks like a special needs child with her jaw wide open.
&nbsp;
Well, lets figure out what it is this time. A quick scan of the cafe and no one here seems threatening. It's a Wednesday afternoon for gods sake, they're all old and decrepit. Note to self; retirement looks fun.
&nbsp;
Quiet outside, barely any traffic. No loud noises. No planes falling out of the sky. No crazy weather. The ground isn't shaking. We're miles away from any ocean. Hmm.
&nbsp;
The fuck is it? I mean, it doesn't usually take this lon- Fuck. That's sore. What is that? Jesus Christ. Okay this fucking hurts. Pain. Lots of it. Am I having a fucking heart attack?!
&nbsp;
CALL AN AMBULA-. No one can hear me. FUCK. Shit shit, what do I do, what do I do. FUCK. Mother, help me. Please HELP ME.
&nbsp;
I was on the floor. Hands grabbing my heart. A sudden realisation sank in. I'm going to die. I'm going to die in front of my mother and she doesn't even know it. The pain became unbearable.
&nbsp;
I'M SORRY MOM, I'M SO SO SORRY. FORGIVE ME.
&nbsp;
Tears rolled down my face. She just sat there with her jaw wide open, mid sentence. |
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