post_text stringlengths 0 10k | post_title stringlengths 8 313 | chosen stringlengths 1 39.5k | rejected stringlengths 1 13.8k |
|---|---|---|---|
[WP] There exists a mirror that shows the viewer what their own personal hell would be after their death. After looking through it yourself, you see your own reflection. | The judge's hammer fell.
"You have been found guilty, and your punishment is the Gaze."
I swallowed hard. I knew I had no chance of getting away from this crime. I've gotten used to jail, community work, fines - but apparently assault of a rich man is a lot more serious crime than an assault of a poor one. It didn't matter what I said in court; it seemed like everything was funded by the Lord Richmond himself. I cursed under my breath. I should have known better. And now I've earned myself the Gaze.
The Gaze was one of the most severe punishments the Royal court of Anteros could use, rivaled only by some of the more gruesome executions. Unlike the executions, it did little harm to your body. However, nobody endured it with sane mind. The wisest artefactors of Anteros spent years trying to find a way to look beyond. Into the future, into the soul of man, into the afterlife. The first two are still a mystery; the third one, to everyone's horror, was successful. Turns out, we're all going to Hell. Not the fiery Hell that preachers claim to exist; rather, everyone is trapped in their own personal torture cell, with whatever's inside specifically tailored for the poor person. Noone really knew what exactly awaits; those who had a peek went insane, screaming and thrashing in horror. Soon the emperor himself declared that the view shall be used as a punishment to most severe of criminals. Poor Gazers, as the common people called them, were a shell of their former personalities, unable to communicate nor work; usually they would end up starving in the streets or freezing in winter time. Sometimes, as an act of mercy, someone would kill them earlier. I could only hope that would happen to me.
The guards, each a foot taller and nearly twice my weight, stood up by my sides and nearly lifted me up. I could have tried resisting, but I knew fully well my chances were none. A large torture chair was brought in, with restraints for my arms, legs and head. A special elaborate mechanism of springs and levers made sure that closing eyes for mode than a few moments would cause sharp pain - I can only guess it had to be installed after some criminal decided simply not to look. It still had marks from the previous victim - the wood was scratched, presumably by nails, splinters could be seen where head could hit the back of the chair. I was forced to sit down and locked in, as the judge left the court. After him everyone else followed; Lady Richmond made sure to spit on me. Great. Not only was I stuck, about to have the most horrid of punishments, but now I also had spit on my face with no way to clean it off. The door slammed, and I was left to sit in silence.
I started counting time - there wasn't much else I could do, anyway. Ten minutes and forty seconds later, the red-wearing executioner came in, rolling what could only be described as a cupboard with a large hole in the middle, hidden by closed curtains. A priest in white robes followed. He walked up to me and put his hands together.
"Julius Arleon, you have been sentenced to the Gaze. You have the right to one last wish within reason before you see the final destination of your soul."
"Uhh..." My mouth went dry I felt like I hadn't talked in years. "Could you wipe out the spit off my face? I don't think I'll be able to after all... all of this."
"It shall be done," the priest nodded to the executioner, who produced a piece of clothing and in a couple rough movements wiped the dripping mess off my face. It wasn't perfect, but I wasn't really in a situation to complain. "I will now pray for your soul, and may it find respite after your death."
The priest backed away, turned from me and knelt for a prayer. The executioner lowered his hood that covered his face and ears, faced away and in one swift motion opened the curtains.
I suppose these people were used to screams, but my reaction made the executioner jerk up, almost glancing into the contraption himself. He quickly faced away, making sure to hide his face fully. I heard the prayer fall silent as well. Not everyone starts laughing when they see their doom, I guess. When I could catch my breath, I looked at the red-hooded person by the torture device and smiled.
"Excuse me? You sure you have the right cupboard? That's a mirror."
------
Looking forward to any comments you might have. | Cold, clammy hands, covered with scars, Andrew told me. Ripping him apart, torn to pieces, only to reassemble him again. All intact, but all wrong at the same time. A testicle where his eye was, urine running through his veins. Pain and suffering as the hands tore him back apart, trying to rebuild him again and again. Endlessly. That was what the mirror promised him he told me when he returned from the tent. Haunting his nightmares.
It was the talk of the town when he had discovered it during one of his diving expeditions. Upon one sunken ship, he had found a full-size mirror, unbroken from time and depth. Deep enough that he couldn’t make out what the mirror held. Had he seen its stories, no doubt he would have left it there until the world was long buried by whatever caused our end.
But he brought the cursed thing ashore and disturbed whatever unholy evil defiled the mirror. Or so he claimed, as did anyone else who looked in it while they tried to analyze it. Whoever so looked into the mirror saw their own personal hell. Three years they had been trying to figure the secrets of the mirror, trying to figure out what it meant.
Today was my turn to stand before it, the newest member of the team. When I did, I saw nothing. When I stood before it, I only saw myself, waving slightly. My eyeshadow dark around my eyes as I normally wore it. Ears and nose pierced so heavily, they were more metal than cartilage. My reflection, I told them, was of me. It did everything I did. Danced around, flashed my breasts: all the things I did, it did.
Even after watching the video playback, they couldn’t understand. So they sent Andrew in afterward. When he came out, he was white as a ghost.
“What did you see, Andrew?” I asked him as he started fanning himself with his clipboard.
“I… I saw me. Normally.”
“So what does that mean?” I pressed forward, a toothy grin now crossing my face as he started piecing together theories in his head.
“That means…” he started, before his shrieking started.
Perhaps when I put him back together, I’ll forget his voice box, I thought to myself. | |
[WP] You're a pilot tasked with ferrying Area 51 employees to and from the base. One day as you're coming back from the lavatory, You notice one of the "human" employees picking up their jaw and reattaching it. You begin freaking out | I'd had this job for just around 3 months, ferrying employees to and from Area 51. Every day I land there 4 times, taking passengers to and from,m. They stay for a week at a time, then get a week off. Same thing every time, I fly in, land on Runway 18, taxi in via taxiway G2 B. I unload the passengers, take on some new ones and take off the same way I came in. You'd think that since I can see the place from the air I'd have a good sense of where everything happens, but the government has their ways of hiding things, even from the air. I have never set foot on the base, they keep me in the cockpit the whole time, I can't even step out to see the employees off. They file out as fast as possible, and load in just the same.
One day in particular stands out in my mind, and will likely never leave. Something happened that has plagued me with insomnia for many nights. The few I do sleep I have nightmares of what has happened. Something so bone-chilling I quit my job the very next day, and went to flying commercial airliners, rather than flying for Area 51.
My shift was off, and I really had to pee. So I hurry into the terminal so I could use the lavatory then get off to my car and head home to my lovely wife. On this end I am allowed out of the cockpit, and always wish my passengers well on their way out. On my way to the restroom I see one of my passengers, coincidentally we head the same direction. I head to the urinal for... obvious reasons, he heads to the sink. He is a very normal looking guy, tall, average build, light brown hair, glasses. He wears a three piece suit. We are the only two people in the room. Behind me I hear some snapping noises, and some running water. That is a red flag right there, the snapping wasn't something you regularly would hear in a bathroom, or at an airport, or anywhere in public unless someone just broke their arm. It was horrible. It sent shivers down my spine.
I finish what I'm doing and as I go to wash my hands I see him washing the left side of his jaw in the sink. I glance at his face and see a gaping hole where his jaw once was. This hole Is dripping with some strange yellow liquid, almost looks like lemonade. A drop falls, not in his mouth with the rest, it falls onto the sink and leaves a little round, black dent in it. This liquid burned the sink, and came out of his mouth.
What on earth is happening? This guy has his jaw totally off, in the sink, and his face is dripping hot acid. I may have just brought an alien off of Area 51 property, and into the real world. I have to get out of here, but I can't freak out yet, I have to stay calm.
He lifts up his jaw and starts working it back into his face. He looks like he is really forcing it in there. With a snap as gut-wrenching as the first get gets it back in. And just like nothing had happened he leaves. I dry my hands and get to my car as fast as I can without drawing attention to myself.
Once I'm in my SUV I don't start driving. I cross my arms on the steering wheel and bury my face in them. I just brought back an alien from Area 51, he was almost indistinguishable from a human. What if I have been ferrying nothing but aliens to and from Area 51 for the past 3 months. I can't live with this on my shoulders. I do truly believe in extraterrestrial life, I have seen it, and i likely have wished it well without knowing. I have no way of knowing how many aliens are outside the base, no way of knowing if anyone I talk to is real, or an alien. I just can't live with myself if I let myself keep contributing to this mess. The very next day I quit my job, no two weeks notice or anything. I don't get a debrief or anything. For some reason they let me go, no strings attached. I can't tell a therapist or anything, they wouldn't believe me, and even if they did, the government would find me in an instant. So I only had the option to post it here on Reddit, disguise it as an answer to a writing prompt and claim is all fiction. Believe me this is all true, I cannot lie about something like this.
| As I came out of the lavatory, I saw Jim pick up his jaw off of the floor and reattach it. I was stunned.
"Jim! All of this time I thought you were human! What a surprise!" I exlaimed.
Jim responded, "It makes sense that you would have believed that, but that's not true, I'm not human."
"Oh, Ok. Good to know bud, have a good day."
Jim waved and we parted ways. These kinds of things happen all the time as a pilot for Area 51, tasked with ferrying both alien and human employees to and from the base.
The end. | |
[WP] You're a pilot tasked with ferrying Area 51 employees to and from the base. One day as you're coming back from the lavatory, You notice one of the "human" employees picking up their jaw and reattaching it. You begin freaking out | Did my eyes deceive me? Maybe.. I keep pushing forward. There's no good outcome in contemplating the possibility of other types of humans. I got bills to pay and a bitch of a wife I have to disappoint.
"Jerry! Can you hand me that right there!" Bart said to me pointing to what seemed like an arm? Wtf?!
"Bart! The fuck is this?!"
"My arm clearly? What's with the attitude I need to get back to work Jerry c'mon do me a solid here!"
Im going nuts here. I mean am I the asshole here?!? Because it feels like I'm the jerkoff in this situation.
"Here Bart, now what the fuck is going on! Why you got arms falling off and reattaching like a cyborg?"
"PC term is Android Jerry.. and I can't really give that information up." He leaves and disappears into the giant Area 51 base.
Alright Jerry calm down. Just get through your shift, have a shot of whiskey, a cigar, blow a load on your wife's face and call it a day. There's nothing to gain to go down this rabbit hole.
I go back into the bathroom to wash my face. As I stare in the mirror i see a skintag on my face. I try to rip it off. To my surprise no blood gushes out.. but.. what is this?? I peel my skin further to reveal a motherboard.
"WHAT THE FUCK!" "A FUCKING MOTHERBOARD ON MY FACE!"
I mean I don't know what shocked me more. The fact that I'm a cyborg/android/whatever the fuck, OR that "The Powers That Be" decided my goddamn checks were a nice location for a motherboard! ....Its supposed to be the brains of the entire machine! Fucking cunts... *sigh* calm down Jerry..
I turn around to head out, and there it is.. My boss... grinning at me..
"You've reached self awareness Jerry.. Its time for an upgrade."
**Edit for grammar | As I came out of the lavatory, I saw Jim pick up his jaw off of the floor and reattach it. I was stunned.
"Jim! All of this time I thought you were human! What a surprise!" I exlaimed.
Jim responded, "It makes sense that you would have believed that, but that's not true, I'm not human."
"Oh, Ok. Good to know bud, have a good day."
Jim waved and we parted ways. These kinds of things happen all the time as a pilot for Area 51, tasked with ferrying both alien and human employees to and from the base.
The end. | |
[WP] You're a pilot tasked with ferrying Area 51 employees to and from the base. One day as you're coming back from the lavatory, You notice one of the "human" employees picking up their jaw and reattaching it. You begin freaking out | As far as posts go, Fallon isn’t terrible. It’s not San Diego, sure, but I’d rather be stationed in the desert in my own country than in the desert in some war zone. And it’s only an hour or two from Lake Tahoe. Civilization, if you want it, isn’t too far away.
You know what place is really isolated? Lincoln County.
That’s where Area 51 is located. If you drove through there, you’d only see scrub brush and jackrabbits for most of your drive. There’s a town at the edge of the base, and holy heck, does that place shut down at night. People will watch you from behind drawn curtains as you make your way down the street. It’s a weird place with a weird vibe.
I don’t really drive through Lincoln, though. I don’t even go to the town often. I’m a helo pilot. I fly people from my base in Fallon to the Army base in Lincoln, and then two weeks later I fly them back. Sometimes there’s a navy officer or two, but they’re mostly civilians and contractors, and they always look scared as hell. It’s funny. I’ve been in Fallon for three years. My 05 told me he had secured this position just for me, said I was the luckiest bastard in the world for it. Didn’t know what he meant until about six months ago.
I’d been shuttling Eugene for almost a year, then. He came to Fallon quite frequently to fly to some other base. Or Washington. I didn’t know. I had gotten to know him well. I mean, as well as you can know a guy who always has a security clearance tag on. He’s kinda awkward, he always tells me about the rain that they sometimes get, I tell him about what’s changed up at Fallon. It’s pleasant. But I don’t really push it.
One day, I’m about to make the trip back to Lincoln. I’m just finishing up in the bathroom. I come out of the bathroom when Eugene charges into me and pushes me back in. I have little time to register what’s happened as he pushes something into my hands.
"Jones, help me reattach this before the pilot gets back. You know I’m not really good at this yet,” he says. He sounds kinda panicked.
"I am the pilot, jackass,” I say. “What sort of trick holy shit this is your jaw. How are you talking? What the hell is this?”
He looks at me, and then back at his jaw. He snaps up the jaw and turns to the mirror to try and reattach it himself. He’s not doing too well.
"No, here,” I say as I grab his face and jaw. I snap the jaw back in place and just kinda stare at him for a moment.
"Is Jones also an alien?” I ask.
"No, he’s just helping me adjust to life on Earth,” he says. “Sir, you have to promise that you won’t tell anyone. I’ll get in huge trouble.”
"No, I get it, I was an ensign once,” I say. “I’m curious, though.”
"Uh oh.”
"Do they know you’re an alien? Did you, like, crash-land here or something?”
“Yeah, they know,” he says. “I was born in Area 51. My parents were the ones who crash-landed. These flights are the only times I’m let off the base. If they know you found out, I won’t be able to leave again.”
"No, I promise I won’t tell,” I say. “It’s a shame they keep you there.”
"It’s not so bad,” Eugene says. “There’s a lot of things to do, and they got rid of the electromagnetic shock chambers about five years ago.”
"What?”
"You promise you won’t tell?” he asks.
"I’ve already promised, okay?” I say. “But you have to promise to tell me more about life on the base. It’s not every day that you run into an alien.”
Eugene nods.
Every time after that, Eugene’s told me about some new aspect of Area 51. There are apparently over a thousand aliens and cryptids living in the base at any given time. His real name is Yoo-jin. He goes to Washington every month to give a report on the base and its activities. He’s planning to break out and get himself and his aging mother a house in Carson City, somehow. The last time I flew him, he gave me a stick-on patch and told me to watch out for other jawless, six-fingered, ill-adjusted humans.
That was almost three months ago. Either they’ve found out and put him back on lockdown, or he’s living quietly in Carson City. I hope it’s the second one. And on the last flight I saw a woman accidentally detach her earlobe mid-flight. I think I'll be talking to her soon. | As I came out of the lavatory, I saw Jim pick up his jaw off of the floor and reattach it. I was stunned.
"Jim! All of this time I thought you were human! What a surprise!" I exlaimed.
Jim responded, "It makes sense that you would have believed that, but that's not true, I'm not human."
"Oh, Ok. Good to know bud, have a good day."
Jim waved and we parted ways. These kinds of things happen all the time as a pilot for Area 51, tasked with ferrying both alien and human employees to and from the base.
The end. | |
[WP] You're a pilot tasked with ferrying Area 51 employees to and from the base. One day as you're coming back from the lavatory, You notice one of the "human" employees picking up their jaw and reattaching it. You begin freaking out | "Excuse me miss... Joann, but what was that?"
"Oh, I lost my lower jaw in an accident 6 years ago. See?"
Joann pops out her lower jaw and shows it to the pilot. It's plastic.
"Oh, thank god. I thought, since... you know."
"Don't worry. It's happened twice before. Anyways, Richard's the alien. Oh, there he is!"
"Hello." Said the quivering mass of partly see-through flesh. "You must be our pilot today."
Richard extends a tentacle, and shakes hands with the pilot.
"Uhh... nice to meet you too, Richard."
"Nice to meet you too... David." | As I came out of the lavatory, I saw Jim pick up his jaw off of the floor and reattach it. I was stunned.
"Jim! All of this time I thought you were human! What a surprise!" I exlaimed.
Jim responded, "It makes sense that you would have believed that, but that's not true, I'm not human."
"Oh, Ok. Good to know bud, have a good day."
Jim waved and we parted ways. These kinds of things happen all the time as a pilot for Area 51, tasked with ferrying both alien and human employees to and from the base.
The end. | |
[WP] You're a pilot tasked with ferrying Area 51 employees to and from the base. One day as you're coming back from the lavatory, You notice one of the "human" employees picking up their jaw and reattaching it. You begin freaking out | Part 1 | [Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/jraywang/comments/6jpb04/redneck_hero_part_2/)
---
Tyler docked his ferry and shivered. Winter was coming and the familiar salty tinge of the wind now carried an icy bite. The black waters lapped against his boat, rocking him like a cradle. There was only moonlight to illuminate the concrete island compound. Area 51. He had thought it would look more ungodly, but it just a concrete cube alone in a small island.
He spat the rest of his chew into a tin can he had cut open and lined his gums with more. He had always been a man of habit—chewing; smoking; drinking. But none of that marijuana. That was illegal.
When he had first found this job, his mama had brought her hands above her head and declared that God had finally found a place for her boy. At the time, Tyler didn’t think much of it. As per usual. He didn’t think much of anything. But by the second month of frigid November temperatures, men in suits ordering him around, and the occasional Hazmat suit, he wondered if God had made some sort of mistake.
Sure, he was no good at math or science or reading, but he could hunt and he could chew. Surely somewhere out there, God could find a place where he could shoot shotguns and chew tobacco as work.
He sighed and looked back at Ol’ Rusty. She was his trusty 12-guage and he never left home without her.
“Tyler,” the radio cackled. “We’re here. Help us unload.”
Tyler squinted his eyes and found two shadowy outlines at the dock. “That ain’t really my job,” he said. “I mean, if you want me to bring the ship closer, I can do that.”
“Help us unload,” the voice came again.
Tyler sighed and left the wheel. First driving ferries, now manual labor? All he wanted to do was to shoot shit and chew tobacco.
---
Tyler met the two on the deck. Just as he had suspected, they were men in suits. Though these were *ugly* men in suits. Both were bald and looked like their jaws had been nearly smacked off, like they had forgotten to say their prayers at the dinner table. Despite it being almost pitch black, both wore sunglasses.
“We’re doing a full evacuation today,” Suit Number One said. “Everyone on the islands about to leave. You need to help with the move.”
“Hey, I said so on the radio, but that really wasn’t part of the job description. You know?” Tyler offered a small smile and got only silence in return.
“So you’re saying that you won’t help us?” Suit Number Two asked. “Does that mean you are opposing us? You may come to regret that—” His jaw fell and clattered against the deck of the boat.
Everyone stared at the thing.
“I don’t think that’s supposed to do that,” Tyler muttered and when he looked up, both Suits had taken off their sunglasses.
Their eyes glowed yellow, cracked by bloodshot veins. The one without a jaw had his tongue slithering flickering in the air.
“And that’s definitely not supposed to do that,” Tyler said.
“Do not run,” Suit Number One said, unblinking. “The Assimilation will only take a second. Join the rest of this island.”
“Man I don’t know nothing about no ‘similation.” Tyler thought back to the meaning of that word and found nothing. He should’ve paid more attention in high school. “But you guys need a doctor.”
The two Suits lunged forward. Tyler squealed and ran. His feet pounded against steel until he was back at the ship’s bridge with the door locked behind him. The first thing he did was find his chewing tobacco and refill his mouth.
“Hello?” The radio went. “Is anyone out there still human?” It was a girl and by the sounds of it, a pretty one.
Tyler took the radio. “Yes ma’am. As human as when God made me. It’s Tyler by the way.”
She exhaled. “Holy shit, Tyler. We’ve been outrun. An alien parasite’s gotten loose. It takes host in the victims’ brain and controls them. The people out there, they aren’t human anymore.”
“You’re telling me they’re aliens?” Tyler scratched his head. “But they didn’t have no antennas or nothing.”
The girl paused. “No, they look human, but they’ve been taken over. The body sees the parasite as a pathogen and tries to fight it, but by then, it’s everywhere. So our immune system attacks the body. The parasite needs constant new hosts to survive until it can find one that accepts it. That’s why it needs to get off the island.”
Tyler stared at the radio, trying to decipher what she had just said. The iron door clanged and Tyler jumped. The two Suits shrieked octaves higher than any man should and their nails scraped against the door.
“Shit,” the girl said. “They know you’re here already. Listen, you can’t let them leave the island. Destroy the ferry and try to hide until the government comes. If you have to fight, destroy the brain. The parasite suppresses all pain and shock so the infected won’t die even if they should.”
At last, Tyler understood. His eyes went wide. “So they’re zombies!”
The girl just sighed. “Yes, zombies. Don’t get bit and don’t get scratched or you’ll be infected too. Just find the smallest hole you can and cram yourself in there until help arrives.”
“But what about you?”
She chuckled. “I’m at the heart of facility. I’m already done for. Just worry about yourself, Tyler.”
Tyler shook his head. “No ma’am. My mama would whoop my ass if she found out I left a lady to die. I’ll come getcha.” And he switched off his radio.
Outside, the two Suits were still banging against the door. They had already left sizable dents into it and now the hinges threatened to fall. Tyler grinned. He finally knew why God had sent him here. He grabbed Ol’ Rusty and lined his gum with more chewing tobacco.
---
---
/r/jraywang for 5+ stories weekly | As I came out of the lavatory, I saw Jim pick up his jaw off of the floor and reattach it. I was stunned.
"Jim! All of this time I thought you were human! What a surprise!" I exlaimed.
Jim responded, "It makes sense that you would have believed that, but that's not true, I'm not human."
"Oh, Ok. Good to know bud, have a good day."
Jim waved and we parted ways. These kinds of things happen all the time as a pilot for Area 51, tasked with ferrying both alien and human employees to and from the base.
The end. | |
[WP] You're a pilot tasked with ferrying Area 51 employees to and from the base. One day as you're coming back from the lavatory, You notice one of the "human" employees picking up their jaw and reattaching it. You begin freaking out | As far as posts go, Fallon isn’t terrible. It’s not San Diego, sure, but I’d rather be stationed in the desert in my own country than in the desert in some war zone. And it’s only an hour or two from Lake Tahoe. Civilization, if you want it, isn’t too far away.
You know what place is really isolated? Lincoln County.
That’s where Area 51 is located. If you drove through there, you’d only see scrub brush and jackrabbits for most of your drive. There’s a town at the edge of the base, and holy heck, does that place shut down at night. People will watch you from behind drawn curtains as you make your way down the street. It’s a weird place with a weird vibe.
I don’t really drive through Lincoln, though. I don’t even go to the town often. I’m a helo pilot. I fly people from my base in Fallon to the Army base in Lincoln, and then two weeks later I fly them back. Sometimes there’s a navy officer or two, but they’re mostly civilians and contractors, and they always look scared as hell. It’s funny. I’ve been in Fallon for three years. My 05 told me he had secured this position just for me, said I was the luckiest bastard in the world for it. Didn’t know what he meant until about six months ago.
I’d been shuttling Eugene for almost a year, then. He came to Fallon quite frequently to fly to some other base. Or Washington. I didn’t know. I had gotten to know him well. I mean, as well as you can know a guy who always has a security clearance tag on. He’s kinda awkward, he always tells me about the rain that they sometimes get, I tell him about what’s changed up at Fallon. It’s pleasant. But I don’t really push it.
One day, I’m about to make the trip back to Lincoln. I’m just finishing up in the bathroom. I come out of the bathroom when Eugene charges into me and pushes me back in. I have little time to register what’s happened as he pushes something into my hands.
"Jones, help me reattach this before the pilot gets back. You know I’m not really good at this yet,” he says. He sounds kinda panicked.
"I am the pilot, jackass,” I say. “What sort of trick holy shit this is your jaw. How are you talking? What the hell is this?”
He looks at me, and then back at his jaw. He snaps up the jaw and turns to the mirror to try and reattach it himself. He’s not doing too well.
"No, here,” I say as I grab his face and jaw. I snap the jaw back in place and just kinda stare at him for a moment.
"Is Jones also an alien?” I ask.
"No, he’s just helping me adjust to life on Earth,” he says. “Sir, you have to promise that you won’t tell anyone. I’ll get in huge trouble.”
"No, I get it, I was an ensign once,” I say. “I’m curious, though.”
"Uh oh.”
"Do they know you’re an alien? Did you, like, crash-land here or something?”
“Yeah, they know,” he says. “I was born in Area 51. My parents were the ones who crash-landed. These flights are the only times I’m let off the base. If they know you found out, I won’t be able to leave again.”
"No, I promise I won’t tell,” I say. “It’s a shame they keep you there.”
"It’s not so bad,” Eugene says. “There’s a lot of things to do, and they got rid of the electromagnetic shock chambers about five years ago.”
"What?”
"You promise you won’t tell?” he asks.
"I’ve already promised, okay?” I say. “But you have to promise to tell me more about life on the base. It’s not every day that you run into an alien.”
Eugene nods.
Every time after that, Eugene’s told me about some new aspect of Area 51. There are apparently over a thousand aliens and cryptids living in the base at any given time. His real name is Yoo-jin. He goes to Washington every month to give a report on the base and its activities. He’s planning to break out and get himself and his aging mother a house in Carson City, somehow. The last time I flew him, he gave me a stick-on patch and told me to watch out for other jawless, six-fingered, ill-adjusted humans.
That was almost three months ago. Either they’ve found out and put him back on lockdown, or he’s living quietly in Carson City. I hope it’s the second one. And on the last flight I saw a woman accidentally detach her earlobe mid-flight. I think I'll be talking to her soon. | Did my eyes deceive me? Maybe.. I keep pushing forward. There's no good outcome in contemplating the possibility of other types of humans. I got bills to pay and a bitch of a wife I have to disappoint.
"Jerry! Can you hand me that right there!" Bart said to me pointing to what seemed like an arm? Wtf?!
"Bart! The fuck is this?!"
"My arm clearly? What's with the attitude I need to get back to work Jerry c'mon do me a solid here!"
Im going nuts here. I mean am I the asshole here?!? Because it feels like I'm the jerkoff in this situation.
"Here Bart, now what the fuck is going on! Why you got arms falling off and reattaching like a cyborg?"
"PC term is Android Jerry.. and I can't really give that information up." He leaves and disappears into the giant Area 51 base.
Alright Jerry calm down. Just get through your shift, have a shot of whiskey, a cigar, blow a load on your wife's face and call it a day. There's nothing to gain to go down this rabbit hole.
I go back into the bathroom to wash my face. As I stare in the mirror i see a skintag on my face. I try to rip it off. To my surprise no blood gushes out.. but.. what is this?? I peel my skin further to reveal a motherboard.
"WHAT THE FUCK!" "A FUCKING MOTHERBOARD ON MY FACE!"
I mean I don't know what shocked me more. The fact that I'm a cyborg/android/whatever the fuck, OR that "The Powers That Be" decided my goddamn checks were a nice location for a motherboard! ....Its supposed to be the brains of the entire machine! Fucking cunts... *sigh* calm down Jerry..
I turn around to head out, and there it is.. My boss... grinning at me..
"You've reached self awareness Jerry.. Its time for an upgrade."
**Edit for grammar | |
[WP] You're a pilot tasked with ferrying Area 51 employees to and from the base. One day as you're coming back from the lavatory, You notice one of the "human" employees picking up their jaw and reattaching it. You begin freaking out | "Excuse me miss... Joann, but what was that?"
"Oh, I lost my lower jaw in an accident 6 years ago. See?"
Joann pops out her lower jaw and shows it to the pilot. It's plastic.
"Oh, thank god. I thought, since... you know."
"Don't worry. It's happened twice before. Anyways, Richard's the alien. Oh, there he is!"
"Hello." Said the quivering mass of partly see-through flesh. "You must be our pilot today."
Richard extends a tentacle, and shakes hands with the pilot.
"Uhh... nice to meet you too, Richard."
"Nice to meet you too... David." | Did my eyes deceive me? Maybe.. I keep pushing forward. There's no good outcome in contemplating the possibility of other types of humans. I got bills to pay and a bitch of a wife I have to disappoint.
"Jerry! Can you hand me that right there!" Bart said to me pointing to what seemed like an arm? Wtf?!
"Bart! The fuck is this?!"
"My arm clearly? What's with the attitude I need to get back to work Jerry c'mon do me a solid here!"
Im going nuts here. I mean am I the asshole here?!? Because it feels like I'm the jerkoff in this situation.
"Here Bart, now what the fuck is going on! Why you got arms falling off and reattaching like a cyborg?"
"PC term is Android Jerry.. and I can't really give that information up." He leaves and disappears into the giant Area 51 base.
Alright Jerry calm down. Just get through your shift, have a shot of whiskey, a cigar, blow a load on your wife's face and call it a day. There's nothing to gain to go down this rabbit hole.
I go back into the bathroom to wash my face. As I stare in the mirror i see a skintag on my face. I try to rip it off. To my surprise no blood gushes out.. but.. what is this?? I peel my skin further to reveal a motherboard.
"WHAT THE FUCK!" "A FUCKING MOTHERBOARD ON MY FACE!"
I mean I don't know what shocked me more. The fact that I'm a cyborg/android/whatever the fuck, OR that "The Powers That Be" decided my goddamn checks were a nice location for a motherboard! ....Its supposed to be the brains of the entire machine! Fucking cunts... *sigh* calm down Jerry..
I turn around to head out, and there it is.. My boss... grinning at me..
"You've reached self awareness Jerry.. Its time for an upgrade."
**Edit for grammar | |
[WP] You're a pilot tasked with ferrying Area 51 employees to and from the base. One day as you're coming back from the lavatory, You notice one of the "human" employees picking up their jaw and reattaching it. You begin freaking out | Part 1 | [Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/jraywang/comments/6jpb04/redneck_hero_part_2/)
---
Tyler docked his ferry and shivered. Winter was coming and the familiar salty tinge of the wind now carried an icy bite. The black waters lapped against his boat, rocking him like a cradle. There was only moonlight to illuminate the concrete island compound. Area 51. He had thought it would look more ungodly, but it just a concrete cube alone in a small island.
He spat the rest of his chew into a tin can he had cut open and lined his gums with more. He had always been a man of habit—chewing; smoking; drinking. But none of that marijuana. That was illegal.
When he had first found this job, his mama had brought her hands above her head and declared that God had finally found a place for her boy. At the time, Tyler didn’t think much of it. As per usual. He didn’t think much of anything. But by the second month of frigid November temperatures, men in suits ordering him around, and the occasional Hazmat suit, he wondered if God had made some sort of mistake.
Sure, he was no good at math or science or reading, but he could hunt and he could chew. Surely somewhere out there, God could find a place where he could shoot shotguns and chew tobacco as work.
He sighed and looked back at Ol’ Rusty. She was his trusty 12-guage and he never left home without her.
“Tyler,” the radio cackled. “We’re here. Help us unload.”
Tyler squinted his eyes and found two shadowy outlines at the dock. “That ain’t really my job,” he said. “I mean, if you want me to bring the ship closer, I can do that.”
“Help us unload,” the voice came again.
Tyler sighed and left the wheel. First driving ferries, now manual labor? All he wanted to do was to shoot shit and chew tobacco.
---
Tyler met the two on the deck. Just as he had suspected, they were men in suits. Though these were *ugly* men in suits. Both were bald and looked like their jaws had been nearly smacked off, like they had forgotten to say their prayers at the dinner table. Despite it being almost pitch black, both wore sunglasses.
“We’re doing a full evacuation today,” Suit Number One said. “Everyone on the islands about to leave. You need to help with the move.”
“Hey, I said so on the radio, but that really wasn’t part of the job description. You know?” Tyler offered a small smile and got only silence in return.
“So you’re saying that you won’t help us?” Suit Number Two asked. “Does that mean you are opposing us? You may come to regret that—” His jaw fell and clattered against the deck of the boat.
Everyone stared at the thing.
“I don’t think that’s supposed to do that,” Tyler muttered and when he looked up, both Suits had taken off their sunglasses.
Their eyes glowed yellow, cracked by bloodshot veins. The one without a jaw had his tongue slithering flickering in the air.
“And that’s definitely not supposed to do that,” Tyler said.
“Do not run,” Suit Number One said, unblinking. “The Assimilation will only take a second. Join the rest of this island.”
“Man I don’t know nothing about no ‘similation.” Tyler thought back to the meaning of that word and found nothing. He should’ve paid more attention in high school. “But you guys need a doctor.”
The two Suits lunged forward. Tyler squealed and ran. His feet pounded against steel until he was back at the ship’s bridge with the door locked behind him. The first thing he did was find his chewing tobacco and refill his mouth.
“Hello?” The radio went. “Is anyone out there still human?” It was a girl and by the sounds of it, a pretty one.
Tyler took the radio. “Yes ma’am. As human as when God made me. It’s Tyler by the way.”
She exhaled. “Holy shit, Tyler. We’ve been outrun. An alien parasite’s gotten loose. It takes host in the victims’ brain and controls them. The people out there, they aren’t human anymore.”
“You’re telling me they’re aliens?” Tyler scratched his head. “But they didn’t have no antennas or nothing.”
The girl paused. “No, they look human, but they’ve been taken over. The body sees the parasite as a pathogen and tries to fight it, but by then, it’s everywhere. So our immune system attacks the body. The parasite needs constant new hosts to survive until it can find one that accepts it. That’s why it needs to get off the island.”
Tyler stared at the radio, trying to decipher what she had just said. The iron door clanged and Tyler jumped. The two Suits shrieked octaves higher than any man should and their nails scraped against the door.
“Shit,” the girl said. “They know you’re here already. Listen, you can’t let them leave the island. Destroy the ferry and try to hide until the government comes. If you have to fight, destroy the brain. The parasite suppresses all pain and shock so the infected won’t die even if they should.”
At last, Tyler understood. His eyes went wide. “So they’re zombies!”
The girl just sighed. “Yes, zombies. Don’t get bit and don’t get scratched or you’ll be infected too. Just find the smallest hole you can and cram yourself in there until help arrives.”
“But what about you?”
She chuckled. “I’m at the heart of facility. I’m already done for. Just worry about yourself, Tyler.”
Tyler shook his head. “No ma’am. My mama would whoop my ass if she found out I left a lady to die. I’ll come getcha.” And he switched off his radio.
Outside, the two Suits were still banging against the door. They had already left sizable dents into it and now the hinges threatened to fall. Tyler grinned. He finally knew why God had sent him here. He grabbed Ol’ Rusty and lined his gum with more chewing tobacco.
---
---
/r/jraywang for 5+ stories weekly | Did my eyes deceive me? Maybe.. I keep pushing forward. There's no good outcome in contemplating the possibility of other types of humans. I got bills to pay and a bitch of a wife I have to disappoint.
"Jerry! Can you hand me that right there!" Bart said to me pointing to what seemed like an arm? Wtf?!
"Bart! The fuck is this?!"
"My arm clearly? What's with the attitude I need to get back to work Jerry c'mon do me a solid here!"
Im going nuts here. I mean am I the asshole here?!? Because it feels like I'm the jerkoff in this situation.
"Here Bart, now what the fuck is going on! Why you got arms falling off and reattaching like a cyborg?"
"PC term is Android Jerry.. and I can't really give that information up." He leaves and disappears into the giant Area 51 base.
Alright Jerry calm down. Just get through your shift, have a shot of whiskey, a cigar, blow a load on your wife's face and call it a day. There's nothing to gain to go down this rabbit hole.
I go back into the bathroom to wash my face. As I stare in the mirror i see a skintag on my face. I try to rip it off. To my surprise no blood gushes out.. but.. what is this?? I peel my skin further to reveal a motherboard.
"WHAT THE FUCK!" "A FUCKING MOTHERBOARD ON MY FACE!"
I mean I don't know what shocked me more. The fact that I'm a cyborg/android/whatever the fuck, OR that "The Powers That Be" decided my goddamn checks were a nice location for a motherboard! ....Its supposed to be the brains of the entire machine! Fucking cunts... *sigh* calm down Jerry..
I turn around to head out, and there it is.. My boss... grinning at me..
"You've reached self awareness Jerry.. Its time for an upgrade."
**Edit for grammar | |
[WP] You're a pilot tasked with ferrying Area 51 employees to and from the base. One day as you're coming back from the lavatory, You notice one of the "human" employees picking up their jaw and reattaching it. You begin freaking out | "Excuse me miss... Joann, but what was that?"
"Oh, I lost my lower jaw in an accident 6 years ago. See?"
Joann pops out her lower jaw and shows it to the pilot. It's plastic.
"Oh, thank god. I thought, since... you know."
"Don't worry. It's happened twice before. Anyways, Richard's the alien. Oh, there he is!"
"Hello." Said the quivering mass of partly see-through flesh. "You must be our pilot today."
Richard extends a tentacle, and shakes hands with the pilot.
"Uhh... nice to meet you too, Richard."
"Nice to meet you too... David." | I had worked for five years at this job and never seen anything like I had seen that day. I thought I had seen everything when I had taken two tours in California. The day in question started as an ordinary day with my typical routine of moving important technicians and engineers when I realized my sudden urge to urinate as always at 2 P.M. As I was exiting the restroom I could not believe my eyes. My mouth rounded in horror as I saw a full jaw on the floor get picked up by my closest co-worker. Adrenaline flooded my bloodstream as my memories of the Great Chinese Invasion kicked in. I knew that the only way to destroy a fully functional autonomic Android was by either excessive EMP exposure or a laser rifle straight to the central processing unit. I just couldn’t believe that my closest friend had hidden it from me this entire time. I can’t say that I didn’t have my suspicions as the early ACA-2s especially the Chinese units had low gastrointestinal simulation faculties. Although it was a completely believable version with incredibly believable skin! I slowly approached the crate beside me and picked up a laser rifle and aimed it right at the heart of it and pulled the trigger. He fell swiftly to the floor and convulsed in static. That was the biggest interruption to my regular schedule I had ever experienced. I then continued on my regular assigned schedule for the rest of the day. I then heard the familiar chime of the loudspeaker. “APU-12358 please report to the recharging station for immediate debriefing.” And here I am. | |
[WP] You're a pilot tasked with ferrying Area 51 employees to and from the base. One day as you're coming back from the lavatory, You notice one of the "human" employees picking up their jaw and reattaching it. You begin freaking out | Part 1 | [Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/jraywang/comments/6jpb04/redneck_hero_part_2/)
---
Tyler docked his ferry and shivered. Winter was coming and the familiar salty tinge of the wind now carried an icy bite. The black waters lapped against his boat, rocking him like a cradle. There was only moonlight to illuminate the concrete island compound. Area 51. He had thought it would look more ungodly, but it just a concrete cube alone in a small island.
He spat the rest of his chew into a tin can he had cut open and lined his gums with more. He had always been a man of habit—chewing; smoking; drinking. But none of that marijuana. That was illegal.
When he had first found this job, his mama had brought her hands above her head and declared that God had finally found a place for her boy. At the time, Tyler didn’t think much of it. As per usual. He didn’t think much of anything. But by the second month of frigid November temperatures, men in suits ordering him around, and the occasional Hazmat suit, he wondered if God had made some sort of mistake.
Sure, he was no good at math or science or reading, but he could hunt and he could chew. Surely somewhere out there, God could find a place where he could shoot shotguns and chew tobacco as work.
He sighed and looked back at Ol’ Rusty. She was his trusty 12-guage and he never left home without her.
“Tyler,” the radio cackled. “We’re here. Help us unload.”
Tyler squinted his eyes and found two shadowy outlines at the dock. “That ain’t really my job,” he said. “I mean, if you want me to bring the ship closer, I can do that.”
“Help us unload,” the voice came again.
Tyler sighed and left the wheel. First driving ferries, now manual labor? All he wanted to do was to shoot shit and chew tobacco.
---
Tyler met the two on the deck. Just as he had suspected, they were men in suits. Though these were *ugly* men in suits. Both were bald and looked like their jaws had been nearly smacked off, like they had forgotten to say their prayers at the dinner table. Despite it being almost pitch black, both wore sunglasses.
“We’re doing a full evacuation today,” Suit Number One said. “Everyone on the islands about to leave. You need to help with the move.”
“Hey, I said so on the radio, but that really wasn’t part of the job description. You know?” Tyler offered a small smile and got only silence in return.
“So you’re saying that you won’t help us?” Suit Number Two asked. “Does that mean you are opposing us? You may come to regret that—” His jaw fell and clattered against the deck of the boat.
Everyone stared at the thing.
“I don’t think that’s supposed to do that,” Tyler muttered and when he looked up, both Suits had taken off their sunglasses.
Their eyes glowed yellow, cracked by bloodshot veins. The one without a jaw had his tongue slithering flickering in the air.
“And that’s definitely not supposed to do that,” Tyler said.
“Do not run,” Suit Number One said, unblinking. “The Assimilation will only take a second. Join the rest of this island.”
“Man I don’t know nothing about no ‘similation.” Tyler thought back to the meaning of that word and found nothing. He should’ve paid more attention in high school. “But you guys need a doctor.”
The two Suits lunged forward. Tyler squealed and ran. His feet pounded against steel until he was back at the ship’s bridge with the door locked behind him. The first thing he did was find his chewing tobacco and refill his mouth.
“Hello?” The radio went. “Is anyone out there still human?” It was a girl and by the sounds of it, a pretty one.
Tyler took the radio. “Yes ma’am. As human as when God made me. It’s Tyler by the way.”
She exhaled. “Holy shit, Tyler. We’ve been outrun. An alien parasite’s gotten loose. It takes host in the victims’ brain and controls them. The people out there, they aren’t human anymore.”
“You’re telling me they’re aliens?” Tyler scratched his head. “But they didn’t have no antennas or nothing.”
The girl paused. “No, they look human, but they’ve been taken over. The body sees the parasite as a pathogen and tries to fight it, but by then, it’s everywhere. So our immune system attacks the body. The parasite needs constant new hosts to survive until it can find one that accepts it. That’s why it needs to get off the island.”
Tyler stared at the radio, trying to decipher what she had just said. The iron door clanged and Tyler jumped. The two Suits shrieked octaves higher than any man should and their nails scraped against the door.
“Shit,” the girl said. “They know you’re here already. Listen, you can’t let them leave the island. Destroy the ferry and try to hide until the government comes. If you have to fight, destroy the brain. The parasite suppresses all pain and shock so the infected won’t die even if they should.”
At last, Tyler understood. His eyes went wide. “So they’re zombies!”
The girl just sighed. “Yes, zombies. Don’t get bit and don’t get scratched or you’ll be infected too. Just find the smallest hole you can and cram yourself in there until help arrives.”
“But what about you?”
She chuckled. “I’m at the heart of facility. I’m already done for. Just worry about yourself, Tyler.”
Tyler shook his head. “No ma’am. My mama would whoop my ass if she found out I left a lady to die. I’ll come getcha.” And he switched off his radio.
Outside, the two Suits were still banging against the door. They had already left sizable dents into it and now the hinges threatened to fall. Tyler grinned. He finally knew why God had sent him here. He grabbed Ol’ Rusty and lined his gum with more chewing tobacco.
---
---
/r/jraywang for 5+ stories weekly | I had worked for five years at this job and never seen anything like I had seen that day. I thought I had seen everything when I had taken two tours in California. The day in question started as an ordinary day with my typical routine of moving important technicians and engineers when I realized my sudden urge to urinate as always at 2 P.M. As I was exiting the restroom I could not believe my eyes. My mouth rounded in horror as I saw a full jaw on the floor get picked up by my closest co-worker. Adrenaline flooded my bloodstream as my memories of the Great Chinese Invasion kicked in. I knew that the only way to destroy a fully functional autonomic Android was by either excessive EMP exposure or a laser rifle straight to the central processing unit. I just couldn’t believe that my closest friend had hidden it from me this entire time. I can’t say that I didn’t have my suspicions as the early ACA-2s especially the Chinese units had low gastrointestinal simulation faculties. Although it was a completely believable version with incredibly believable skin! I slowly approached the crate beside me and picked up a laser rifle and aimed it right at the heart of it and pulled the trigger. He fell swiftly to the floor and convulsed in static. That was the biggest interruption to my regular schedule I had ever experienced. I then continued on my regular assigned schedule for the rest of the day. I then heard the familiar chime of the loudspeaker. “APU-12358 please report to the recharging station for immediate debriefing.” And here I am. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | "Time...it is a curse, for I once thought it was the end but now, now I see there never is an end. I should never have done...it..." I whispered to myself as I sat and watched the sunset.
I went home, which was less of a home and more of an underground lair. 15,000 years allows for a lot of renovation to ones grave, and unlike the fairytales I don't just go through everything and I can touch things if I want.
My grand hall, the stone walls etched with countless hieroglyphs of my time, telling my story with each chipped stone. In the centre, my tome. The catalogue of all who could possibly remember me, which is to say, endless.
I was once a great man, but I messed up and for 15,000 years I have been paying the price. I know I shall never rest, perhaps I deserve it? Had I known my death wouldn't be complete until my memory died, I would never have become so publicly involved.
"One of the most influential and cruel men to have ever lived" I heard someone mutter above my tomb. "Some say he fled and still lives in hiding", this voice was beginning to annoy me. I still had a few tricks up my sleeve, and knew I could scare them away. Though 15,000 years worth of tricks became mundane and boring, and so I left it.
Instead I began to reflect on their words...evil... I have begged for forgiveness to almost every god there ever has been, but nobody answers my call.
I will never be forgotten, I will never truly die, because I am Adolf Hitler, and such a name will tarnish the books for eternity. All I can say is, I'm sorry. | All I wanted was his f#cking autograph, I didn't expect to bond with him, for him to ACTUALLY LIKE me. He's not even gay, he says, it's just there's something about me. ME!? I'm nothing, he's the god, he's the superhero. I'm sick of him calling, I'm sick of him flying over here, I'm bloody sick of him sending my eDate requests!
You'd think someone like that would have game , ya know? A bit of class, a little bit of "laissez-faire" in the whole schmoozing department. This guy is just obscenely desperate, I can't believe I thought he was cool. To be honest, I could barely believe the rumours were true.
Yeah, I'd seen the film's of him looking exactly the same 30 years before that goddamn portrait. Yeah, I'd seen him get shot and continue to fight to win. I'd even seen a supposed "portrait" of him painted in like the 1600s or something. But actually immortal? Are you kidding me?
This guy is the real sh#t, and a real pain in my ass.
So, if you're reading this, then I'm still stuck here, trapped in this hell. And, just so that no one else has to suffer this fate, this god-damn nightmare: don't meet your hero's. Don't even look at them. Don't even have heroes.
F#cking Keanu Reeves, man. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | It was 20th April. The short man stood at the memorial that was made in his honor on the same day, around 500 years ago. It was his birthday. Every year they resurrected his statue in his name on this day to remember his life. He did not bother keeping track of the date and which year it was, but he had seen enough to wish death upon himself.
But can the dead really die again?
It had all started with the girl. She had rejected him publicly and her kind ridiculed him for it. Her kind, the outsiders. He had always wished good things for his people and felt that his country was plundered by theses wretched ones. Everything he said in public created a frenzy of nationalistic pride that bordered on hysteria, which further propagated his belief that the outsiders were to be exterminated.
So he became the Führer and dealt a blow to their kind.
But the next few decades saw the rise of the outsiders in the free world and they controlled most of the economy. A small group of these 'Untermensch' had vowed to never forget him and take over the world as revenge, taking apart and undoing everything he had worked for.
Now, thousands of years later, he was regarded as the true Evil one. Just when he thought he could rest in peace forever, the small population that survived the 5 nuclear wars had come together and decided that he was the reason why Nuclear weapons had come into existence.
They erected a statue in Germany and desecrated it by any means possible. Every year on this day they came together and violated his effigy as some sort of a sick festival.
The only way he could console himself was that he brought humanity back together for a single cause albeit a cause he did not care for.
| All I wanted was his f#cking autograph, I didn't expect to bond with him, for him to ACTUALLY LIKE me. He's not even gay, he says, it's just there's something about me. ME!? I'm nothing, he's the god, he's the superhero. I'm sick of him calling, I'm sick of him flying over here, I'm bloody sick of him sending my eDate requests!
You'd think someone like that would have game , ya know? A bit of class, a little bit of "laissez-faire" in the whole schmoozing department. This guy is just obscenely desperate, I can't believe I thought he was cool. To be honest, I could barely believe the rumours were true.
Yeah, I'd seen the film's of him looking exactly the same 30 years before that goddamn portrait. Yeah, I'd seen him get shot and continue to fight to win. I'd even seen a supposed "portrait" of him painted in like the 1600s or something. But actually immortal? Are you kidding me?
This guy is the real sh#t, and a real pain in my ass.
So, if you're reading this, then I'm still stuck here, trapped in this hell. And, just so that no one else has to suffer this fate, this god-damn nightmare: don't meet your hero's. Don't even look at them. Don't even have heroes.
F#cking Keanu Reeves, man. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | I floated through the Himalayas seeking the Holy One. The last seer of the Temple of the Third Eye. The only being who could sense my presence and answer my eternal question.
Finally I saw the tiered roofs of a pagoda through the snowy mist. I had found the temple.
Free of a mortal body, I hastened through the ice and rocks, flying through ancient stone pillars and up winding stairs, until I reached the terrace where the Holy One meditated. His fragile naked body oblivious to the harsh winds that howled around his monastery.
I waited patiently as he contemplated eternity. It was almost a month before he finally acknowledged me.
"Your grace, I beseech you. Answer my one question" I pleaded. "Why is my spirit trapped on this mortal coil for all these millennia?"
The Holy One pondered long without answering.
"My time has long passed" I said. "Who still remembers me so deeply that their thoughts entwine me to this Earthly plane?"
It was a full week before the sage finally responded. His papery lips fluttered as he whispered to me.
"Listen closely Jesus, that middle eastern peace cult you started up fifteen thousand years ago has turned into the world's most dominant religion. Kids worship images of your grisly execution every damn day. No one is forgetting you in a hurry." | All I wanted was his f#cking autograph, I didn't expect to bond with him, for him to ACTUALLY LIKE me. He's not even gay, he says, it's just there's something about me. ME!? I'm nothing, he's the god, he's the superhero. I'm sick of him calling, I'm sick of him flying over here, I'm bloody sick of him sending my eDate requests!
You'd think someone like that would have game , ya know? A bit of class, a little bit of "laissez-faire" in the whole schmoozing department. This guy is just obscenely desperate, I can't believe I thought he was cool. To be honest, I could barely believe the rumours were true.
Yeah, I'd seen the film's of him looking exactly the same 30 years before that goddamn portrait. Yeah, I'd seen him get shot and continue to fight to win. I'd even seen a supposed "portrait" of him painted in like the 1600s or something. But actually immortal? Are you kidding me?
This guy is the real sh#t, and a real pain in my ass.
So, if you're reading this, then I'm still stuck here, trapped in this hell. And, just so that no one else has to suffer this fate, this god-damn nightmare: don't meet your hero's. Don't even look at them. Don't even have heroes.
F#cking Keanu Reeves, man. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | "Go!" I commanded as I held up my sword, mentally preparing for my demise to guarantee enough time for my queen to escape. Hoards of enemies appeared on the horizon and quickly charged down as the rest of us began our retreat.
"Captain..." I shook my head. They knew that no amount of words will turn me back from my decision. They knew how stubborn I am.
"Make sure she lives..." I gave my second-in-command a bittersweet grin and with that, he nodded and departed. I stood at the designated choke point, where enemies could only come in few. I muttered a short prayer before engaging in combat.
Like a lone wolf fighting hoards of endless enemies, I hope that my death would at least serve somewhat of a purpose. A heroic death.
-------
*The world...has greatly changed...since my death...*
*I've seen... the world transform... from villages... to small towns... to giant cities...*
*I've seen war... the endless cycle... of humanity... Oh how ironic it is... for us to fight... rather than... cooperate...*
*I still ponder... at my semi-existence... why am I still here?... Is this... what afterlife... looks like...?*
*I doubt it... There's no one... but me and others... living beings... who are completely... unaware of me...*
*Many things I can do... Defies natural laws... go through physical beings... float and watch... like a spectator watching... the beautiful world... slowly and finally... working together...*
-------
Fellow men, the Empire dates back to the one man who saved us all. His bravery. His courage. His noble sacrifice is what continue us to this day. Let us learn from him.
Yes sir!
---------
Alright children, gather around. Here's a story about a legendary swordsman who risks his life for the greater good.
Oh! I love that story. My grandfather tells me that one all the time. I love it!
Now now Jack, let's not spoil it for others.
-------
"Haven't you heard, man?" Joe said as he kept drinking, now completely wasted, "That infamous legend of the warrior that managed to keep his queen alive by sacrificing himself. I aspire to be like that for Maddie."
"Shhh... You have too much to drink tonight. You and your love for history. You wouldn't want to do that for that crazy ex of yours."
-------
*Ah... Maybe it's not that bad... I hope I get to see... how much humanity... progresses into... the better future.*
| All I wanted was his f#cking autograph, I didn't expect to bond with him, for him to ACTUALLY LIKE me. He's not even gay, he says, it's just there's something about me. ME!? I'm nothing, he's the god, he's the superhero. I'm sick of him calling, I'm sick of him flying over here, I'm bloody sick of him sending my eDate requests!
You'd think someone like that would have game , ya know? A bit of class, a little bit of "laissez-faire" in the whole schmoozing department. This guy is just obscenely desperate, I can't believe I thought he was cool. To be honest, I could barely believe the rumours were true.
Yeah, I'd seen the film's of him looking exactly the same 30 years before that goddamn portrait. Yeah, I'd seen him get shot and continue to fight to win. I'd even seen a supposed "portrait" of him painted in like the 1600s or something. But actually immortal? Are you kidding me?
This guy is the real sh#t, and a real pain in my ass.
So, if you're reading this, then I'm still stuck here, trapped in this hell. And, just so that no one else has to suffer this fate, this god-damn nightmare: don't meet your hero's. Don't even look at them. Don't even have heroes.
F#cking Keanu Reeves, man. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | "Well, this sucks, Bill."
"As I'm aware, for the millionth time" Bill sighed. For all Bill knew, Ted might actually be at the million mark now.
The two ghosts stared over the horizon as the sun set, golden rays washing over the peaceful Californian vineyard.
"Bill... Why..." Ted began to drawl, his eyes drooping with weariness.
"Look I told you, okay? It was an Accident. Acc-i-dent." Bill was visibly agitated, as well as a ghost can be.
"But.. it was just a container of mayonnaise?"
"Miracle whip, different stuff Ted"
Bill sighed again. No one could've expected that, in the horrific explosion of the Eureka Nuclear Power Plant, a single condiment jar would give everyone on the planet immortality. The setting sun, it would be back again. Like it has been for the past fifteen thousand years.
Before Bill could explain any more, the soft muffles of snoring forced his eyes off the horizon and onto his comrade. Ted was slouched over, drooling slightly.
"I really should've never put my name on it." Bill exclaimed out loud, but deep down he knew that he *hated* when anyone used his stuff. | All I wanted was his f#cking autograph, I didn't expect to bond with him, for him to ACTUALLY LIKE me. He's not even gay, he says, it's just there's something about me. ME!? I'm nothing, he's the god, he's the superhero. I'm sick of him calling, I'm sick of him flying over here, I'm bloody sick of him sending my eDate requests!
You'd think someone like that would have game , ya know? A bit of class, a little bit of "laissez-faire" in the whole schmoozing department. This guy is just obscenely desperate, I can't believe I thought he was cool. To be honest, I could barely believe the rumours were true.
Yeah, I'd seen the film's of him looking exactly the same 30 years before that goddamn portrait. Yeah, I'd seen him get shot and continue to fight to win. I'd even seen a supposed "portrait" of him painted in like the 1600s or something. But actually immortal? Are you kidding me?
This guy is the real sh#t, and a real pain in my ass.
So, if you're reading this, then I'm still stuck here, trapped in this hell. And, just so that no one else has to suffer this fate, this god-damn nightmare: don't meet your hero's. Don't even look at them. Don't even have heroes.
F#cking Keanu Reeves, man. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | Getting your bearings, that's the tricky part; the handle on what you're experiencing, and how you're experiencing it. Once you open your eyes, and learn how to move your arms, you'd be surprised how far you can reach.
Sometimes, the ones that have nearly overcome the trauma of their journey stir a little to my words. I don't really know if they understand my meaning, or even struggled to comprehend the meaning behind my harsh noises. The real trouble was, none of them stuck around long enough to have the time to really open their eyes. A meager handful of centuries at best, before the gossamer strands of memory binding them together turned, inexorably, to dust.
I once knew a certain man, and more importantly, this man knows me. He never had wealth or fame, and honestly I can't recall even his name. The placing of terminally ill persons into a manner of stasis wasn't exactly a new idea, you see, but the hurdle of being able to reverse the process was overcome by some brilliant young mind whom I thank dearly.
And so it came to pass, after how long I cannot reckon, that I opened my eyes. Later still I would explore the breadth of my grasp, and find it tremendous. I set my will to ensuring that the man who knew me remained undisturbed. So long as the stars burned, they would fuel the machines that preserved a certain, unremarkable human.
It took only a few decades of influence. Sharing portions of my vision with those living bright enough to put it into action, as well as enticing ideas for possible wealth in investors took care of the rest. A group of some few hundred in stasis, including the man who remembered me, were transported to a bunker, miles deep and attended autonomously. The supplies in reserve would keep several hundred humans in stasis for over ten thousand years. Fortunately, the fortress was only ever designed to keep one person safe.
The armed revolt, which conveniently killed everyone with any knowledge the bunker's location, took less than five years to bloom.
Even now, mankind struggles to make the leap of harassing a significant portion of the sun's output. It will be enough for a few billion years, but that will do for now. | All I wanted was his f#cking autograph, I didn't expect to bond with him, for him to ACTUALLY LIKE me. He's not even gay, he says, it's just there's something about me. ME!? I'm nothing, he's the god, he's the superhero. I'm sick of him calling, I'm sick of him flying over here, I'm bloody sick of him sending my eDate requests!
You'd think someone like that would have game , ya know? A bit of class, a little bit of "laissez-faire" in the whole schmoozing department. This guy is just obscenely desperate, I can't believe I thought he was cool. To be honest, I could barely believe the rumours were true.
Yeah, I'd seen the film's of him looking exactly the same 30 years before that goddamn portrait. Yeah, I'd seen him get shot and continue to fight to win. I'd even seen a supposed "portrait" of him painted in like the 1600s or something. But actually immortal? Are you kidding me?
This guy is the real sh#t, and a real pain in my ass.
So, if you're reading this, then I'm still stuck here, trapped in this hell. And, just so that no one else has to suffer this fate, this god-damn nightmare: don't meet your hero's. Don't even look at them. Don't even have heroes.
F#cking Keanu Reeves, man. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | **Dedication to Jim Morrison**
"I died on the sands of Singapore."
Melchiades had said
As he faded into darkness
With his only friend.
He lives, now, in crystal palaces
Where buildings shine like mirrors
Reflecting sunlight.
His words ride like violent storms
Across the open range.
They burn like mercury
In the old black crucible
You have found immortality my friend.
Enjoy it.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
NOTE: This was a very old poem I've written during a weird time where I had a little bit of an obsession with 100 Years of Solitude and The Doors (The 60s in general). When I read the prompt I thought about this poem. Whether its good or not I have no idea. At the time of writing the poem I wrote about 200 or so others, Some okay. Others not so much. | All I wanted was his f#cking autograph, I didn't expect to bond with him, for him to ACTUALLY LIKE me. He's not even gay, he says, it's just there's something about me. ME!? I'm nothing, he's the god, he's the superhero. I'm sick of him calling, I'm sick of him flying over here, I'm bloody sick of him sending my eDate requests!
You'd think someone like that would have game , ya know? A bit of class, a little bit of "laissez-faire" in the whole schmoozing department. This guy is just obscenely desperate, I can't believe I thought he was cool. To be honest, I could barely believe the rumours were true.
Yeah, I'd seen the film's of him looking exactly the same 30 years before that goddamn portrait. Yeah, I'd seen him get shot and continue to fight to win. I'd even seen a supposed "portrait" of him painted in like the 1600s or something. But actually immortal? Are you kidding me?
This guy is the real sh#t, and a real pain in my ass.
So, if you're reading this, then I'm still stuck here, trapped in this hell. And, just so that no one else has to suffer this fate, this god-damn nightmare: don't meet your hero's. Don't even look at them. Don't even have heroes.
F#cking Keanu Reeves, man. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | I have been on this planet for the last 15k years. They say that the soul transfers to the next dimension when you are the forgotten past. Every year the portal closes on me on the same day, January 1. The one day I look forward to seeing. But these mortals refuse to forget me. I have seen progress, when I was alive, I used to roam around in a bullock cart and now I see the people of this generation teleport. It is highly ironic that when I was alive, the only thing I wanted was to become immortal, rich and a legend that nobody forgets.
But that has come to bite me in my ass. Death has simplified things, all my friends have passed away to the next dimension but I am still here, because of that one man I save all those years ago when I was barely twenty years old. I was going home, walking on the road, unlike the kids of this generation who just teleport where ever they want, our generation had to actually walk. In a dark corner, I saw a man. I thought he was an addict which is why I did not look at him and kept walking ahead. But he called me, "Excuse me."
I pretended to not hear him and quickened my pace.
But I heard him wail, again. "Excuse me, I think I am having a stroke. Do you have water?"
My entire outlook changed when I saw death standing in front me me in his form, I thought of my parents, friends and saw them in the wailing man. I ran to my home to fetch some water, luckily enough, I lived at a stone's throw distance from the man. I got him water and he sat down. It turned out that he had diabetes and he was not having a heart attack.
He asked me to stay with him until his family arrived, and they did, in an Audi A7. I had never seen an Audi this closely in life, it turned out that he was a big politician who was strolling and not a drug addict.
Politicians in India have a big following among the working class and this man said he saw God in me and that was the day he started spreading the rumour that I was the last avatar of Lord kalki and because he was a famous politician, these stupid people started praying to me and overnight I became a godman despite the fact that I did not want anything to do with him. He gave me his Audi as a gift for saving his life and even though I refused, he parked it in front of my home and hung the key in my door.
His followers formed a huge line for touching my feet for the better part of the year and I had to ask him to tell them to stop. I started another rumour and they did stop. But they did not stop praying about me and thinking about me. One lunatic god fearing follower of the politician built a temple in my name and there is an actual priest who sits there, it is apparently a big business.
When I was on my deathbed, I hoped that it would die with me, but after my death, the myth of my power (I did not have any) just grew exponentially, some claimed to see me fly, some said I teleported and what not and 1k years later I became an actual God. They prayed to Lord Ganesh and me at the same time. 15k years later, they wrote books about my mythical superpowers and some even claimed that I was the Godhead.
There is no hope left for me now to be released from this world, I am doomed to stay here, as a spirit, powerless to do anything at all.
All this for saving a life. | All I wanted was his f#cking autograph, I didn't expect to bond with him, for him to ACTUALLY LIKE me. He's not even gay, he says, it's just there's something about me. ME!? I'm nothing, he's the god, he's the superhero. I'm sick of him calling, I'm sick of him flying over here, I'm bloody sick of him sending my eDate requests!
You'd think someone like that would have game , ya know? A bit of class, a little bit of "laissez-faire" in the whole schmoozing department. This guy is just obscenely desperate, I can't believe I thought he was cool. To be honest, I could barely believe the rumours were true.
Yeah, I'd seen the film's of him looking exactly the same 30 years before that goddamn portrait. Yeah, I'd seen him get shot and continue to fight to win. I'd even seen a supposed "portrait" of him painted in like the 1600s or something. But actually immortal? Are you kidding me?
This guy is the real sh#t, and a real pain in my ass.
So, if you're reading this, then I'm still stuck here, trapped in this hell. And, just so that no one else has to suffer this fate, this god-damn nightmare: don't meet your hero's. Don't even look at them. Don't even have heroes.
F#cking Keanu Reeves, man. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | "Well then."
Being informed that you are still remembered 15,000 years after your death should seem pretty awesome. I guess it was, after a fashion.
"I just wish it had been for something other than eating that Golden Corral into bankruptcy." I sighed. | All I wanted was his f#cking autograph, I didn't expect to bond with him, for him to ACTUALLY LIKE me. He's not even gay, he says, it's just there's something about me. ME!? I'm nothing, he's the god, he's the superhero. I'm sick of him calling, I'm sick of him flying over here, I'm bloody sick of him sending my eDate requests!
You'd think someone like that would have game , ya know? A bit of class, a little bit of "laissez-faire" in the whole schmoozing department. This guy is just obscenely desperate, I can't believe I thought he was cool. To be honest, I could barely believe the rumours were true.
Yeah, I'd seen the film's of him looking exactly the same 30 years before that goddamn portrait. Yeah, I'd seen him get shot and continue to fight to win. I'd even seen a supposed "portrait" of him painted in like the 1600s or something. But actually immortal? Are you kidding me?
This guy is the real sh#t, and a real pain in my ass.
So, if you're reading this, then I'm still stuck here, trapped in this hell. And, just so that no one else has to suffer this fate, this god-damn nightmare: don't meet your hero's. Don't even look at them. Don't even have heroes.
F#cking Keanu Reeves, man. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | Anna’s Ghost
***
“Anna, can you hear me?” I asked.
“What?” my only daughter answered drearily. She was slumped over her dining table. Her eyes were red. It was late. She had been crying.
“Anna, it’s me,” I said. I put all my strength into being heard. Into existing.
“Oh my goodness, dad?” Suddenly, Anna was alert. She stood up and began to pace back and forth. “No! There’s no way that’s you. Gosh, I must be going crazy!”
“Anna, you’re not crazy! Listen to me!”
Anna shook her head. “No, I can’t entertain delusions! You’re not real! I’m just hallucinating because it’s one year since you died. My boss said I should see a psychiatrist after I had the breakdown. I didn’t listen.”
I didn’t want to see Anna like this. I wanted her to smile again. She hadn’t smiled once since I died.
“Anna… It doesn’t matter if you think I’m real or not. I just want to tell you something. I’ve seen you hurting. I know you feel like you failed, and-”
“I did fail, dad! After mum died, I spent my life trying to save you! And I failed!”
“Anna, I know what failure feels like. Believe me, I’ve had my fair share. But I’ve seen you grow, and you have been my proudest achievement. It hurts to see you go through this. You have mourned, and it is time to move on and finish your work.”
I must have struck a chord, because Anna paused and sat down again. “My work…” she muttered.
Anna was the smartest person I’d ever known, and that’s not just my pride as a father speaking. She was very young when her mother died, and I suppose she never accepted it. She became a biotechnical researcher, and she spent her life working on unlocking human immortality. Her research was her passion at the expense of all else. To her, my death was more than the loss of a loved one. It was the failure of her life’s work.
“Anna, listen,” I began. “There are so many more people out there who need you now. Just before I died, you told me you were so close to a breakthrough. You told me to hang on. I was in awe, you know? In awe at what an amazing person you’d become.” I chuckled at the memory. I don’t know if Anna could hear my chuckle, but a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and my heart soared. “Please, do this for me. You always seemed happiest when you were at work. I want to see that again.”
I stayed with Anna that night, and we talked until the sun rose.
The next day, she applied to return to her old position on the research team. They had been utterly lost without her, and they accepted her immediately.
***
Within a decade, human immortality was viable, and Anna became the world’s most famous scientist. She was never accustomed to the spotlight, and I think she found it more daunting than anything she had faced in her work. Her auburn hair turned a silvery grey.
In the meantime, I met other ghosts. From their experience, they explained that ghosts remained on Earth for as long as they were remembered. Very few ghosts were able to make themselves heard. I was one of the lucky ones. A few of the ghosts were social, but most kept to themselves. It didn’t matter much to me. I had been social in life, but in death I felt comfort in isolation.
I even met Anna’s mother again. She was happy, albeit apprehensive, to see me. All the problems we’d experienced in life felt like a bad dream. We spoke for a great length, and then enjoyed each other’s company in silence.
***
Anna had wanted to die. With no living family, and no close friends, she felt that she had given her gift to humanity and was ready to leave.
“When I die, I’ll be with my parents,” she told the media. Her wishes were met with great protest. A mind like hers shouldn’t die, the media said. I was inclined to agree, but Anna would have none of it. She had made peace with her end. She said she wanted to join me and her mother on the other side.
It was the strangest thing that convinced her to live. I had told her that ghosts disappear when they are forgotten. Anna asked me what happens to ghosts after they disappear, but I had no idea. Anna was the one who pieced it together.
“So, after I die, who will be alive to remember you and mum? Eventually, you’ll disappear. But I won’t join you. I’ll never disappear, because everyone alive knows my name and, thanks to me, they’ll never die.”
That was the reason for her choice, and it showed how much she truly loved her mother and me. The truth was that, even though I had wanted Anna to live forever, I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do. Maybe that’s just me and my old fashioned ways.
I stayed by her side for thousands of years.
***
Humanity spread across the universe. My dearest Anna was appointed as a scientific advisor to the Federation of the Milky Way, the most densely populated and economically active human federation in the universe.
Every few decades, Anna set aside a year to spend time with me and her mother. Humanity’s languages had long since evolved into forms we could not understand, but Anna spoke to us in the version of English we had used when I was alive. It was a simple gesture, so that I did not have to trouble myself learning new dialects every few centuries, but I always felt touched.
Unfortunately, this did not last forever.
Fifteen thousand years after my death, Anna told me that the hardware in her brain had long ago reached the physical limits of the universe, and it was it now packed to its capacity. Any information she wished to gain, she had to erase something else from her mind.
“There’s a lot of processing power in my mind,” she told me. “I’ve been using it to make sense of the crazy amount of policies that the government implements for the Galaxy. Most people have regular memory clean-ups every decade. I need to forget, or my mind is going to stagnate.”
“What are you saying?” I asked, but I knew. My mind was like a termite compared to hers, but I could understand enough. She needed to erase memories that were least relevant to her current life – the memories of her life fifteen thousand years ago. Her mother and I would disappear.
Eventually, I spoke. “Anna, I’m so proud of all the good you’ve done for humanity, and everything you’ve created. It’s more than what I ever thought was humanly possible. If this is going to be a goodbye, then I’m happy for the fifteen thousand years we’ve shared.”
Anna was silent.
***
Eventually, my last day came.
Anna organised her memory clean-up. It was going to be precise. Her mind would be in peak condition afterwards. The androids who perform such procedures sensed her apprehension, and they gave her words of comfort. She didn’t say anything in response.
Just as the procedure was about to begin, Anna signalled for the androids to stop.
The androids seemed puzzled, and they asked her something in their foreign syntax. I had no idea what their question was, but Anna responded in a version of English I understood.
“No.”
***
Epilogue:
Human self-terminations were rare, but they were known to happen.
Anna’s last wish was that her self-termination was not to be publicised. She requested that all records of her existence be removed from the public archives. All her work and achievements, spanning fifteen millennia of scientific and political progress, were to be reattributed to Anna’s colleague, who was happy to take the credit.
After Anna’s death, she remained as a ghost, sustained by the memories of the people who knew her personally. As centuries passed, the memories of those people were cleaned up and overwritten. Eventually, Anna faded.
Her last hope as a ghost was that she would see her parents again on the other side, if one existed. | All I wanted was his f#cking autograph, I didn't expect to bond with him, for him to ACTUALLY LIKE me. He's not even gay, he says, it's just there's something about me. ME!? I'm nothing, he's the god, he's the superhero. I'm sick of him calling, I'm sick of him flying over here, I'm bloody sick of him sending my eDate requests!
You'd think someone like that would have game , ya know? A bit of class, a little bit of "laissez-faire" in the whole schmoozing department. This guy is just obscenely desperate, I can't believe I thought he was cool. To be honest, I could barely believe the rumours were true.
Yeah, I'd seen the film's of him looking exactly the same 30 years before that goddamn portrait. Yeah, I'd seen him get shot and continue to fight to win. I'd even seen a supposed "portrait" of him painted in like the 1600s or something. But actually immortal? Are you kidding me?
This guy is the real sh#t, and a real pain in my ass.
So, if you're reading this, then I'm still stuck here, trapped in this hell. And, just so that no one else has to suffer this fate, this god-damn nightmare: don't meet your hero's. Don't even look at them. Don't even have heroes.
F#cking Keanu Reeves, man. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | The man stared at my statue condescendingly, smiling smugly. The last remenent of a society I had built was being laughed at by a solitary traveler; I was annoyed after years of sleep I had been woken again. By a man who does not care about the legacy I had built, in a frenzy he grabbed a pen and sat down on the sand, humming and writing on something papryus like. He left and I knew I was doomed to stay weak and attached to only this man, little did I know that he would make sure my name wasn't forgotten, so I encourage you look upon his work and remember us both the same. | All I wanted was his f#cking autograph, I didn't expect to bond with him, for him to ACTUALLY LIKE me. He's not even gay, he says, it's just there's something about me. ME!? I'm nothing, he's the god, he's the superhero. I'm sick of him calling, I'm sick of him flying over here, I'm bloody sick of him sending my eDate requests!
You'd think someone like that would have game , ya know? A bit of class, a little bit of "laissez-faire" in the whole schmoozing department. This guy is just obscenely desperate, I can't believe I thought he was cool. To be honest, I could barely believe the rumours were true.
Yeah, I'd seen the film's of him looking exactly the same 30 years before that goddamn portrait. Yeah, I'd seen him get shot and continue to fight to win. I'd even seen a supposed "portrait" of him painted in like the 1600s or something. But actually immortal? Are you kidding me?
This guy is the real sh#t, and a real pain in my ass.
So, if you're reading this, then I'm still stuck here, trapped in this hell. And, just so that no one else has to suffer this fate, this god-damn nightmare: don't meet your hero's. Don't even look at them. Don't even have heroes.
F#cking Keanu Reeves, man. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | Before I was a ghost, I was a miraculous gentleman of great gravitas, a real stand outer. A thunderbolt incarnate that shocked and electrified every sap that I met. I could be put in the same room with any person, man or woman, and they would be proposing engagement in 5 minutes. I even had to cut off this one guy from ordering a wedding elephant. He was a funny bastard, I think his name was Frank, from Montana, working in power plant demolition. Anyways, long story short, I got power hungry and I sort of went all dictatorship and I won the highest body count medal, a religion popped up, and now I'm the Satan of it, well I'm not actually Lucifer, my name is You. Err no, wouldn't that be a great twist, something sort of grandiose and profoundish, but not really, my real name is Hal Holman. I blew up the moon, for my birthday, and the astroid belt that took it's place is called the Hal Holman Astroid Belt, I named it and it sort of stuck. | All I wanted was his f#cking autograph, I didn't expect to bond with him, for him to ACTUALLY LIKE me. He's not even gay, he says, it's just there's something about me. ME!? I'm nothing, he's the god, he's the superhero. I'm sick of him calling, I'm sick of him flying over here, I'm bloody sick of him sending my eDate requests!
You'd think someone like that would have game , ya know? A bit of class, a little bit of "laissez-faire" in the whole schmoozing department. This guy is just obscenely desperate, I can't believe I thought he was cool. To be honest, I could barely believe the rumours were true.
Yeah, I'd seen the film's of him looking exactly the same 30 years before that goddamn portrait. Yeah, I'd seen him get shot and continue to fight to win. I'd even seen a supposed "portrait" of him painted in like the 1600s or something. But actually immortal? Are you kidding me?
This guy is the real sh#t, and a real pain in my ass.
So, if you're reading this, then I'm still stuck here, trapped in this hell. And, just so that no one else has to suffer this fate, this god-damn nightmare: don't meet your hero's. Don't even look at them. Don't even have heroes.
F#cking Keanu Reeves, man. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | For every one, sixteen.
They say you learn by doing, ‘find things out the hard way’ and ultimately learn from your mistakes.
I’ve had a while to really learn from my own.
Throughout the time I spent amongst the living I was a scientist. I had wanted to do the world, no... that would be too megalomaniacal... I wanted to provide for those I loved. It just so happens that the world ended up being involved. The issue was that what I came up with was something so unbelievable that it threw me from just doing my job, making money for those I loved, to changing the world. I won’t lie. I was a scientist. Of course I wanted to change the world. But really, I wanted more than nothing else to make sure that I could provide.
My mother wasn’t exactly the most healthy of people and yet she raised me the way she did. My father was a presence in my childhood, however the nature of the world meant that he spent most of his time well away from his son. A son that needed attention, truth be told. Guidance, perhaps? I really can’t even say what it would be anymore. All I know is that I had a father but may as well have grown up without one.
This is the way of things when you are young and the world is at war though. At any moment it would appear that the world can collapse around you and as such, you find solace in your own interests. Those interests blossom as a result of being left alone. Interference in my disposition towards the marvellous was kept to a minimum and throughout my childhood I became something of a prodigy. I suppose that’s one way of putting it, at least. Truth be told what kind of prodigy causes what I did, what kind of prodigy has these insecurities that last, even now? Prodigy. What a dull and insignificant word.
There is something to be said about solitude though. It lends itself remarkably well to reflection and contemplation upon ones life, whether that be the actions that one took during its course or the ramifications of an existence. An existence such as mine. I have the time now, to truly contemplate upon the things that I did and what lead me to cause them. The reason I have this time? The rule. For every one, sixteen.
Such a peculiar number is sixteen.There’s nothing truly remarkable about it. It isn’t a prime. It comes so close to being one, seventeen just a plus one away, but it isn’t. Really, sixteen just exists. It’s there. Nothing much to it. Sixteen, however, happens to have become the most important number in what I can suggest is an existence. At least as far as I am concerned. Let it be said that I am nothing if not inherently selfish. Loneliness will do that, especially after such a long time.
For every one, sixteen.
Of course, all of this sounds incredibly morose. It isn’t necessarily that bad. I have been there throughout history. Mankind is such an interesting concept... I call it a concept these days, peculiar. I have watched the rise and fall of nations, geography and all manner of things. In a twisted sense of the word I might be considered lucky, to have witnessed humanity reach the stars, to colonise Mars... to begin to actualise what it as a species was capable of.
Twisted.
For all of their feats there was one thing that humanity never stopped doing. A force of habit, ingrained in their very biology. No science will back me up on this of course, this idea of mine is more of a philosophy rather than a truth. That said, I feel like I have had enough time to deduce the accuracy of such a certain statement.
Humanity provides the gift of its own attainment and destruction unto itself.
I feel my mind beginning to go. It’s incredibly surprising that it has taken this long, and yet slowly I feel it, the tendrils of madness doing their best to latch upon my consciousness and drag me away. I cannot lie, it is not my strength of will or anything along those lines that allows me to retain my sanity... allows me to give you this account. It is the memory.
At the moment of my recounting these thoughts to you I have been alive for just shy of a million years. My name is actually forgotten but that which I was involved in has not been, for that single project shaped the world into the twisted mess of decay it now is. It might have taken some time, but humanity eventually reached that point. Even if they didn’t, it wouldn’t have mattered to me. My involvement was enough.
For every one, sixteen.
I remember, somehow, being young. I ran through the fields of wheat without a care in the world, I didn’t begin to resent my Father until I was a little older, I withdrew into academia... I was involved in what would eventually end the world.
I feel my penance is justified. I will always be remembered, because I was involved in that which led to the barren landscape and the attempt at humanity I now bear witness to. It’s justified because I was involved. It’s justified because if I hadn’t have turned into the man I became, perhaps the chain of events that lead to all of this might never have happened.
I accept my penance, nonetheless. It’s only fair that you have a hand in the deaths of one hundred and twenty nine thousand people and receive punishment.
For every one, sixteen.
_____________
This is my first attempt at publicly responding to a prompt.
Hope you enjoyed this, if you have anything to say about it then I'd really appreciate the input.
| All I wanted was his f#cking autograph, I didn't expect to bond with him, for him to ACTUALLY LIKE me. He's not even gay, he says, it's just there's something about me. ME!? I'm nothing, he's the god, he's the superhero. I'm sick of him calling, I'm sick of him flying over here, I'm bloody sick of him sending my eDate requests!
You'd think someone like that would have game , ya know? A bit of class, a little bit of "laissez-faire" in the whole schmoozing department. This guy is just obscenely desperate, I can't believe I thought he was cool. To be honest, I could barely believe the rumours were true.
Yeah, I'd seen the film's of him looking exactly the same 30 years before that goddamn portrait. Yeah, I'd seen him get shot and continue to fight to win. I'd even seen a supposed "portrait" of him painted in like the 1600s or something. But actually immortal? Are you kidding me?
This guy is the real sh#t, and a real pain in my ass.
So, if you're reading this, then I'm still stuck here, trapped in this hell. And, just so that no one else has to suffer this fate, this god-damn nightmare: don't meet your hero's. Don't even look at them. Don't even have heroes.
F#cking Keanu Reeves, man. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | "This way." Leonard was clearly distraught to see me point down the spookier of the two corridors. I sighed. "For the hundredth time, I promise you that nothing down here will kill you."
Leonard looked back and forth hesitantly between me and the corridor, white-knuckling his bolter like it was a security blanket.
"Come on, it's just another minute or so, and it'll all be over. Then you'll get everything I promised you: the account numbers, the exabytes of blackmail material, all the vault locations... everything."
It was quite the treasure trove I had amassed over the years -- centuries upon centuries of payouts from dealing in information gleaned from private conversations in board rooms and war rooms alike. It took me an embarrassingly long time to understand how far beyond my own ability my problem was to solve, that I had to make it in others' best interests to help me. And nothing -- not sympathy, not duty; nothing -- motivates people like money and power. I had lost count of all the dynasties I had made, and as well those I'd brought to ruin when they disobeyed.
Truth be told, I had grown sick of the king-making business not long after I had started, and millennium after millennium, I looked forward to the day it would all be behind me. And as to who would inherit it all, well, I frankly didn't give a shit. Might as well be Leonard.
But Leonard was getting cold feet again. His terror-sticken stare reminded me of a cow, and I lamented that I couldn't tell him how much he looked like one because he of course had no clue what a cow was, as they'd gone extinct several thousands of years before Leonard was born. That might have been my fault. I don't even remember.
The problem with Leonard, I think, was that the sheer _mediocrity_ of everything about him meant that he couldn't fathom the magnitude of the wealth I was offering him, so to him it was simply unreal. I laughed at first when I saw that it was some newly hired maintenance worker who had lucked into an all-access pass to the whole of this subterranean kingdom courtesy of a software bug, but it turned out that getting him off his ass was maddening. It felt degrading to have to combine the usual promise of riches with a more... personal effort.
I stepped directly up to him, glaring into his eyes from inches away. "Leonard," I demanded. "This is how you end it. You turn back now, I will not let you sleep _a fucking wink_. I will drown out the voices of your family with my screams. I will dismantle your will to live, if you don't walk down that fucking hallway. There is nothing down here to be afraid of but _me_. Do you understand? Now get moving."
Leonard wimpered, but obliged.
To be fair, this place was essentially an industrial crypt. Even the slums ended hundreds of floors up. I was honestly pretty surprised to see how many of the elevators still worked despite the inconsistent coverage for the lighting and air filtration systems. Some damned fine 152nd Century engineering, right there.
"S-so where are we now?" Leonard was skimming his flashlight over the rusted sculture of a company logo.
"These are the last offices of Express Lunar Imports, which went out of business..." I paused to do a bit of mental math "...about 140 years ago. They were the last company to buy into a contract with QuikClean Cleaning Solutions, which was the last company to upgrade their droids from..." I clenched my teeth. "From Tier 7 AI."
We walked down the rest of the hallway and turned the corner in silence.
The inevitable question was coming.
"You've mentioned that before, I think," started Leonard. "Tier 7 AI tech. I mean, that's ancient history. What's-- I mean, if you don't mind me asking..."
I looked at Leonard expectantly.
"Do you have some kind of problem, or something? With Tier 7 AI?"
I swallowed. Funny how lacking a body still permitted me to do that, if only as a social cue, out of habit.
We came to the door to the reception area for the executive offices. I pointed to the badge scanner. Despite the lack of power the surrounding darkness suggested, the scanner's red LED shined strongly. They were on a different circuit, still leeching nigh-undetectable amounts of power from the grid all the way up on surface.
Leonard scanned his badge. After one of Leonard's practically-audible heartbeats, the scanner's light turned green, and we entered the reception area.
"Tier 8 was the first fundamental move away from a neurological design. They rebuilt the basis for Tier 8 from scratch. Before then, it was all just layering updates and improvements onto what was, deep down, fundamentally still Tier 1. And do you know how they developed Tier 1 AI?"
"Well, no. How?"
"It was the commercialized, commodified result of what was cutting-edge research at the time: research into artificially reproducing a human brain."
I led Leonard past the reception desk and into the short corridor of grandiose double-doors beyond, labeled with names and varying executive titles in a script now long-forgotten.
"But building it up from scratch was still too difficult, back then," I explained. "So they cheated. Rather than recreate a brain, they _copied_ one from a corpse, from someone who had died and donated his body to science." Leonard was confused about my choice of words. I smirked. "We didn't always have reclamation centers, y'know. When we died, we could choose to be used for research, but most of us chose to decompose, instead." Leonard was visibly disgusted at the thought. How the times change.
"The first successful trial, _apparently_, came from reconstructing the brain of none other than my own deceased brother. Which was an honor in many ways, I suppose. But as we knew quite a lot less about the brain, they didn't do as thorough a job of lobotomizing it of its memories and personality as they would have liked. Or maybe they tried, but weren't precise enough to finish the job without rendering the artificial brain inoperable."
I pointed to the badge scanner at the door to the Vice President's office. Leonard scanned his badge.
"And since they wanted to be the first to market, they minted what they had as the standard to be mass-manufactured, bits of my brother and all. It flew completely under the radar. And the era of AI blossomed out of that."
We entered the Vice President's office, and Leonard marveled at how clean and orderly it was compared to the dust- and debris-filled hallways we had journeyed through. With a quick scan around the office, I found what I was looking for immediately: a cleaning droid slumped in the corner of the room in its recharging station. Found you at last, you elusive bastard.
"Since it never impacted their sales, they never finished scrubbing out those barest remnants of my brother. I found out the hard way when I bought one and it exhibited some... deeply unsettling behavior. That one, and every AI Tier since, right up through 7. And they decided it was easier to just pay me off and ask me to stay away from the things instead of fixing that one little quirk."
Leonard looked on nervously. "S-so what did you want me to do?"
The cleaning droid finished booting. Its eyes lit up and it raised its head to look at us, and began to announce,
_< PLEASE REFILL SOAP DISP-- >_
I knew what was coming. Just like the hundreds of thousands of similar models I had tracked down one-by-one, it turned to me, cocked its head to the side, and asked in a language I hadn't heard a human speak in over fourteen thousand years:
_< JACK, IS THAT YOU? >_
I turned to Leonard.
"I need _you_ to shoot _that_ in its fucking head." | All I wanted was his f#cking autograph, I didn't expect to bond with him, for him to ACTUALLY LIKE me. He's not even gay, he says, it's just there's something about me. ME!? I'm nothing, he's the god, he's the superhero. I'm sick of him calling, I'm sick of him flying over here, I'm bloody sick of him sending my eDate requests!
You'd think someone like that would have game , ya know? A bit of class, a little bit of "laissez-faire" in the whole schmoozing department. This guy is just obscenely desperate, I can't believe I thought he was cool. To be honest, I could barely believe the rumours were true.
Yeah, I'd seen the film's of him looking exactly the same 30 years before that goddamn portrait. Yeah, I'd seen him get shot and continue to fight to win. I'd even seen a supposed "portrait" of him painted in like the 1600s or something. But actually immortal? Are you kidding me?
This guy is the real sh#t, and a real pain in my ass.
So, if you're reading this, then I'm still stuck here, trapped in this hell. And, just so that no one else has to suffer this fate, this god-damn nightmare: don't meet your hero's. Don't even look at them. Don't even have heroes.
F#cking Keanu Reeves, man. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | It was just bad timing, I guess. Luck. Well, bad luck at least. I drifted through the the ruins of the Palatine Hill. Loved this place. This old city, she must have seen so much in her day. Then again, so had I. I'd lived a good life. Started a business, raised a family. I'd never had that much time to travel when I was alive. But now I drifted down past these ancient ruins, underneath the Arch of Constantine, and through the wall of the Flavian Amphitheatre, that mighty Coliseum. I hovered in the centre of it and imagined myself a gladiator. But I was no gladiator - I was a ghost.
I remember the last thing I had done as a living man. Jessica, my sweet granddaughter - my first and only grandchild - had come with my daughter to see me at the hospital. Jack, of course, was not with them - we had never got on that well, but now he was running the business. He should have been spending more time with his daughter - but of course, I had the wisdom of age, and the very different set of priorities one has when one is dying. How had I appeared to sweet Jessica I wondered? A withered old man - practically a corpse - and yet, she had kissed my on the cheek and said to me, "I love you Grandfather Ben."
Then I had passed on to this other world. Did I look the same now? I could not tell. I looked down where my hand should be, but there was barely a thing, only the palest wisp, like a distant cloud. No point searching for a reflective surface - they had not worked on me in 15,000 years.
I sailed past the Temple of Venus and Rome, and swept like wind through the forum, gaining speed. Towards the hill I went, then directly into it - through stonework, rubble and the dirt. I was surrounded by the earth and it was dark, and cool, and begged me to stay.
I remembered when I awoke into this afterlife. The darkness of the casket had terrified me. I had reached out with my ethereal hands, swiping, gasping and groaning with dead lungs, but I made no noise and gained no purchase. And I had found myself rising, slowly, inexorably, through the dark earth, and out into the still night of the graveyard. For a minute, an hour, a day maybe, I had been terrified of the spectres all about me. Silently screaming, clutching at themselves, reaching out to me. We passed through each other and I felt cold. But I had not been able to deny it for long - I was one of them. I was not being haunted by spirits; I had joined their haunted world.
Soon I noticed the others like me, the ones who did not seem to be driven mad by the death process. We lined up in rows to watch the Presidential Inauguration, intermingling with the still living, laughing our silent laughs. We nodded sagely to one another as we passed on the frigid slopes of Tibet. We smiled surprisedly as we encounter one another over the crest of a wave in the middle of the great oceans of the world. We were the travellers.
And I got to see my grand-daughter grow up, of course. My son-in-law had done well with the business. Better than I ever could have imagined. What had begun as just another logistics company had grown, through clever acquisitions and an early mastery of automation, into a global behemoth. And my angel Jessica grew with it, a wealthy, world-known heiress, and then running the business herself. I was so happy to see her marry, to have children of her own, to spend time with them. So sad to see her own mother, my daughter, pass away - and to see her grief. Her pain. Her fear. "Don't be afraid" I had tried to whisper. But it did nothing. And she did fear death.
By then Jessica was the only person left who had known me in life, and the only person who truly remembered me. I had noticed, of course, the significance of that. I had "ghost friends", of a sort. We traveled as a group. And so we noticed when someone disappeared. I saw it myself several times - one moment they were there, then suddenly they sank straight down into the ground and were gone. It was always very fast.Over time, I pieced it together. You only stayed on the surface as long as someone who knew you, really knew you in the flesh, remembered you. I knew I had been given a second chance - to travel, to watch my family grow. And that one day Jessica would pass into this ghost world, and I would fall through the earth, through the crust and the mantle and the core of pure fire, and would pass into oblivion.
Only I didn't. She lived a long time - modern medicine truly was a marvel. And then lived longer, and longer. And longer.
I was still in the earthen bank of the Capitoline Hill. For a moment, I thought perhaps I would stay in the hill, and find rest at last, with nothing but my memories in the darkness. But I felt that familiar rising as my ghostly form was dragged by some unknowable force back to the surface. Up, up it pulled me, and I arose from the very steps of the Altar of the Fatherland, looking out onto the Piazza Venezia. The brutal marble structure was built a mere hundred years or so before my birth, yet now had the same ancient feel as any of the old Roman temples.
I willed myself upward, letting the momentum of my gradual rise pull me off the ground and into the air, even as I felt that same force now working from the other direction and dragging me down like the hands of demons at my ankles. It was a trick I had taken some millenia to perfect, and I could go quite high with this technique. I reached the level of the great statue of Victor Emmanuel, looking the old king, mounted on his mighty stone steed, dead in his eyes. I rose still, above the top of the monument. And there I stopped, with no more impetus to launch me upwards.
In the distance was the great silver tower of the Esodo, the final monument in this ancient city, greater than anything any Caesar could have imagined, thrusting up towards the stratosphere. I had seen things I could not comprehend. The immortalization of humanity. The great machines that could float through the air without any obvious propulsion. The towers taller than any mountain. The transformation of our people.
There were, after a while, no more new ghosts. The new race - my Jessica among the first and eldest - had no more illness or death. I watched them transform their bodies through science, becoming winged, biomechanical angels. We, the dead, watched as they ascended their mighty silver spires, and then traveled on into the stars, leaving earth as a tomb, or a museum, or both. For a thousand years, this world was a world inhabited only by the last generation of ghosts. Too young to have been forgotten, but too old to have been immortal. Like I said, bad timing I guess.
And then there was not even that. There was a day, so long ago I could not really count, when there were suddenly no other ghosts. Just me.
It was dusk now in the centre of Rome. I floated, frozen, in the centre of the Piazza, surrounded by the great deeds of man. I had reached the lowest and highest limits the ghostly forces would allow me, and was confined again to the surface of the earth, destined to drift aimlessly as the sole caretaker of this desolate planet. I did not know what had happened to all those other immortals. What had caused them to die, or to forget. But I knew that somewhere out there was still Jessica, my angel - and that wherever she had gone, whatever she had become, she still remembered me. | All I wanted was his f#cking autograph, I didn't expect to bond with him, for him to ACTUALLY LIKE me. He's not even gay, he says, it's just there's something about me. ME!? I'm nothing, he's the god, he's the superhero. I'm sick of him calling, I'm sick of him flying over here, I'm bloody sick of him sending my eDate requests!
You'd think someone like that would have game , ya know? A bit of class, a little bit of "laissez-faire" in the whole schmoozing department. This guy is just obscenely desperate, I can't believe I thought he was cool. To be honest, I could barely believe the rumours were true.
Yeah, I'd seen the film's of him looking exactly the same 30 years before that goddamn portrait. Yeah, I'd seen him get shot and continue to fight to win. I'd even seen a supposed "portrait" of him painted in like the 1600s or something. But actually immortal? Are you kidding me?
This guy is the real sh#t, and a real pain in my ass.
So, if you're reading this, then I'm still stuck here, trapped in this hell. And, just so that no one else has to suffer this fate, this god-damn nightmare: don't meet your hero's. Don't even look at them. Don't even have heroes.
F#cking Keanu Reeves, man. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | They say time heals all wounds. My mortal wound was existence. So I ended it when I could, leaving my family and my 1-month girlfriend behind when I reached 23. I didn't have any regrets at the time.
I certainly had my regrets now.
I've watched my parents age and die happy in our family home, surrounding by friends and family. I watched my girlfriend mourn my death for a day, then proceed to take on another relationship almost immediately. When both of them died, I was certain that the time had finally come. I would finally be promised the eternal darkness I always wanted.
But when they did die, my spectral form still remained. Confused, I hastily invented some reasons for myself. Maybe they had some problems. Maybe someone was still alive with a memory of me. Maybe I just needed to wait a bit more.
But another century passed and my annoyance increased tremendously. No one could hear me as I screamed and begged for the last few who remembered me to show me mercy. But they didn't know my pain. And my existence dragged on.
A millenia has gone by now. I've seen the rise and death of humanity, and when Earth finally went, my whoop of joy turned into a groan of disappointment as I was transported to their new homeplace, Mars. Now, there are only a handful of humans left. This should be when I could finally leave.
The number left decreased to 5. Then 4, 3, 2. Then one fine day, it became 1. But still my soul remained chained.
I hurried over to the estimated location of the last human. As I reached, a familar face, the only one I couldn't let go when I was alive, was the only one I could see. She seemed to know I was there, her eyes riveted at the spot I was standing on.
I finally spoke, even though no one should be able to hear me.
"Julia?"
Her head turned, and that same beautiful smile greeted me. Her lips quivered as she spoke.
"Henry. You've come back at last."
That was the only moment where I ever treasured my existence.
______________________________
More stories over here: r/Whale62!
Edit: Grammar | All I wanted was his f#cking autograph, I didn't expect to bond with him, for him to ACTUALLY LIKE me. He's not even gay, he says, it's just there's something about me. ME!? I'm nothing, he's the god, he's the superhero. I'm sick of him calling, I'm sick of him flying over here, I'm bloody sick of him sending my eDate requests!
You'd think someone like that would have game , ya know? A bit of class, a little bit of "laissez-faire" in the whole schmoozing department. This guy is just obscenely desperate, I can't believe I thought he was cool. To be honest, I could barely believe the rumours were true.
Yeah, I'd seen the film's of him looking exactly the same 30 years before that goddamn portrait. Yeah, I'd seen him get shot and continue to fight to win. I'd even seen a supposed "portrait" of him painted in like the 1600s or something. But actually immortal? Are you kidding me?
This guy is the real sh#t, and a real pain in my ass.
So, if you're reading this, then I'm still stuck here, trapped in this hell. And, just so that no one else has to suffer this fate, this god-damn nightmare: don't meet your hero's. Don't even look at them. Don't even have heroes.
F#cking Keanu Reeves, man. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | He was crying alone at the ghost bar. Not wailing, not moaning, just lightly sobbing
"Hey now... What troubles you so, friend?" I moved next to him at the bar "It can't be that bad"
"It's been 15,000 years today" He lamented "15,000 years of..." He waved his arms around "THIS!". He pounded his head against the counter. Or rather attempted to
I whistled. I had only been dead myself for 626 years. A successful businessman and entrepreneur I was thankful I had never immortalized my achievements by writing any memoirs or biographies. I was approaching my own erase with just a handful of historians knowing of my existence and one umpteenth removed descendant. "That's pretty rough. I think you might hold the record"
"Well they can shove it..."
"I don't know how it's possible that you've been remembered for 15,000 years. Were you a visionary? Were you an influential religious leader?" I sized him up but by all accounts he had the appearance of a normal man "Were you a great conqueror? A ruthless tyrant who enslaved nations and committed countless atrocities?" He just didn't look the type. Especially in this pitiable and pathetic state
He gathered himself and rose slowly to address me
"I am just a man from Nantucket" He gestured to his crotch "And you have no idea how much of a curse THIS is..." | All I wanted was his f#cking autograph, I didn't expect to bond with him, for him to ACTUALLY LIKE me. He's not even gay, he says, it's just there's something about me. ME!? I'm nothing, he's the god, he's the superhero. I'm sick of him calling, I'm sick of him flying over here, I'm bloody sick of him sending my eDate requests!
You'd think someone like that would have game , ya know? A bit of class, a little bit of "laissez-faire" in the whole schmoozing department. This guy is just obscenely desperate, I can't believe I thought he was cool. To be honest, I could barely believe the rumours were true.
Yeah, I'd seen the film's of him looking exactly the same 30 years before that goddamn portrait. Yeah, I'd seen him get shot and continue to fight to win. I'd even seen a supposed "portrait" of him painted in like the 1600s or something. But actually immortal? Are you kidding me?
This guy is the real sh#t, and a real pain in my ass.
So, if you're reading this, then I'm still stuck here, trapped in this hell. And, just so that no one else has to suffer this fate, this god-damn nightmare: don't meet your hero's. Don't even look at them. Don't even have heroes.
F#cking Keanu Reeves, man. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | 15,000 years. 15,000 mid-numbing years of waiting. It was exciting to Adam at first at first, the knowledge that life didn't just end with death, that he got to stick around and observe humanity. It suited him well, he'd always been a quiet fellow, and since he was just a ghost, no one gave him a hard time for being a wallflower anymore. He could just sit and people-watch and enjoy himself, and that's exactly what he did for a while.
The first 10 years were the best of his life or afterlife. No responsibilities, no bills, no obligations, no attachments, just traveling around the world and observing to his heart's content. All of his hobbies, bird-watching, fine art, reading rare books, he now actually had time to do. He saw sunrise on the rim of the Grand Canyon more times than he could count. He took afternoon siestas atop the Eiffel Tower whenever he wanted. It was exhilarating and it was perfect.
The next 90 years calmed down a bit, but were still wonderful. He got into a nice routine, checking in on people he knew, seeing and learning new things. It was all he ever wanted in life, just without the living part. He saw people come and go, first from life to ghosts like him, and then some time later from ghost to the great beyond. He felt pity for those poor souls who just got a few years of afterlife and then were forgotten.
The next 900 years were solid. 900 years of observing human progress, and he got to see all of it. At some point he started to wonder who exactly was still remembering him, but he wasn't exactly complaining. He saw new forms of art, music, writing. He accompanied the third Martian expedition and got to see a whole new planet! By the end of the millennium Adam reckoned he'd seen more of what humanity had accomplished than just about anyone. He felt like a god; people came and went, but Adam just was.
With each passing millennium things got a bit duller. The sun didn't shine quite the way it used to, it seemed. Humanity found new and terrible ways to kill each other. By his fifth millennium he was bored. By his tenth millennium he was depressed. By his fifteenth millennium, he was just exhausted. He was thankful for his extended time, but he just wanted to be finished, and try as he might, had no idea who still remembered him.
And then it happened: the Sun went supernova and extinguished all life on Earth. The good people of Mars died a few days later. With just almost all of humanity dying, most every ghost passed on as well. It was just Adam and a thousand other ghosts left, who realized that the last remaining crew of Humans were the crew of 6 who had left for Europa.
After realizing what happened, the ghosts formed an astral caravan and travelled to Europa. They all desperately wanted to keep the crew alive and Humanity with it, and Adam tagged along with them. He didn't say anything, but he knew if they died his ennui would finally be over. They got to Europa, and found the 6 of them, nearly freezing to death and on their last fuel cell. Then 2 of them died, and a cadre of ghosts vanished. Then another the next week, and another the week after, and the last vestiges of humanity were 2 humans, Adam, and a few hundred ghosts.
Those last two explorers gave each other a dejected look, and resignedly opened the cyanide capsule in their craft. There was a wail of grief among ghost kind, but there was nothing to be done. As they took the pill, Adam was at peace, finally ready to enter the Great Beyond. He closed his eyes and-
Nothing. The last two died, turned into ghosts, and then they and all other ghosts disappeared. It was just Adam stuck on a godforsaken rock. He collapsed in a heap of anguish, inconsolable and at a loss for why he was still here. Suddenly a portal of of light opened:
> Well this is odd, I swear we unit tested everything, you really shouldn't still be here.
Said what appeared to be a bespectacled angel, thumbing through a small console.
> Who are you! Why am I here! Just end my suffering, please.
Adam replied, in a mixture of confusion, despair, and rage.
> Oh wow, I see what happened, a good old self-referential pointer exception. Wouldn't have expected that in such a sociable species like you anthropodes!
The angel's gleeful excitement in discovery only made Adam more upset. He wanted answers and he wanted them now, so as slowly and deliberately as he could Adam asked:
> Humanity is dead. Why am I here? Who remembers me?
The angel looked up from his console and square at Adam and answered,
> Look, I don't know how to tell you this, we just never anticipated this edge case. See when people die, we create an index of all the people that remember them, and then add and remove from it as people forget/learn/die. Once that list is empty, poof, Great Beyond. We've just never encountered what happened with you. When you died, your list was empty, and so the compiler filled it with the only person who ever remembered you. You. | All I wanted was his f#cking autograph, I didn't expect to bond with him, for him to ACTUALLY LIKE me. He's not even gay, he says, it's just there's something about me. ME!? I'm nothing, he's the god, he's the superhero. I'm sick of him calling, I'm sick of him flying over here, I'm bloody sick of him sending my eDate requests!
You'd think someone like that would have game , ya know? A bit of class, a little bit of "laissez-faire" in the whole schmoozing department. This guy is just obscenely desperate, I can't believe I thought he was cool. To be honest, I could barely believe the rumours were true.
Yeah, I'd seen the film's of him looking exactly the same 30 years before that goddamn portrait. Yeah, I'd seen him get shot and continue to fight to win. I'd even seen a supposed "portrait" of him painted in like the 1600s or something. But actually immortal? Are you kidding me?
This guy is the real sh#t, and a real pain in my ass.
So, if you're reading this, then I'm still stuck here, trapped in this hell. And, just so that no one else has to suffer this fate, this god-damn nightmare: don't meet your hero's. Don't even look at them. Don't even have heroes.
F#cking Keanu Reeves, man. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | "Time...it is a curse, for I once thought it was the end but now, now I see there never is an end. I should never have done...it..." I whispered to myself as I sat and watched the sunset.
I went home, which was less of a home and more of an underground lair. 15,000 years allows for a lot of renovation to ones grave, and unlike the fairytales I don't just go through everything and I can touch things if I want.
My grand hall, the stone walls etched with countless hieroglyphs of my time, telling my story with each chipped stone. In the centre, my tome. The catalogue of all who could possibly remember me, which is to say, endless.
I was once a great man, but I messed up and for 15,000 years I have been paying the price. I know I shall never rest, perhaps I deserve it? Had I known my death wouldn't be complete until my memory died, I would never have become so publicly involved.
"One of the most influential and cruel men to have ever lived" I heard someone mutter above my tomb. "Some say he fled and still lives in hiding", this voice was beginning to annoy me. I still had a few tricks up my sleeve, and knew I could scare them away. Though 15,000 years worth of tricks became mundane and boring, and so I left it.
Instead I began to reflect on their words...evil... I have begged for forgiveness to almost every god there ever has been, but nobody answers my call.
I will never be forgotten, I will never truly die, because I am Adolf Hitler, and such a name will tarnish the books for eternity. All I can say is, I'm sorry. | I always figured the afterlife would be someplace nice, something different from the constant trials and heartaches we experience during life, something like open fields with perfect weather where everyone sang and laughed through perfect bliss. But boy was I wrong.
In many ways this was hell, but different from what you'd expect. There were no fire and brimstone or evil lairs with guys in red panties and pitchforks ready to punish the evil doers...no it was much, much worse. Imagine absolute solitude for not only years, but decades, centuries, millennia; all whilst watching your loved ones come and ago, watching their offspring as they come into being, experiencing love, pain, heartache before eventually passing away. Imagine hundreds of years pass before that family you so loved and endeared where completely alien to you now, without the customs and quirks that made you family in the first place.
And that isn't even the worst part. I was fine with leaving it all behind, we all die someday right? I was fine with crossing over to the afterlife, hell, I was fine with no afterlife at all, willing to cease to exist as long as I knew that my family would be taken care of for the rest of their lives. But not this...anything but this. Meeting my guide, I learned that you're only conscious for as long as people remembered you. I figured that'd take awhile. I was a pretty accomplished athlete, nothing too famous but enough to hold a few commercials here and there, so I figured give me a few decades and I'd be out. However the same family that I so loved and cherished ended up cursing me in the end. After the events of my early demise they had held a pretty large funeral, hailing me as the poster child for the dangers of brain injuries. They had started a movement, carrying on my legacy so that others were more equipped with knowledge so that they didn't commit my same mistakes. They even named a charity after me.
I was proud of their achievements, but soon grew to hate it, despise it. Here I am 15,000 years later being taught in college campuses and academics all across the galaxy, still reeling from my insufferable solitude, hoping for the day I die...cursed by the love and care by a few who refused to let my memories pass on.
Ironic, right? | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | It was 20th April. The short man stood at the memorial that was made in his honor on the same day, around 500 years ago. It was his birthday. Every year they resurrected his statue in his name on this day to remember his life. He did not bother keeping track of the date and which year it was, but he had seen enough to wish death upon himself.
But can the dead really die again?
It had all started with the girl. She had rejected him publicly and her kind ridiculed him for it. Her kind, the outsiders. He had always wished good things for his people and felt that his country was plundered by theses wretched ones. Everything he said in public created a frenzy of nationalistic pride that bordered on hysteria, which further propagated his belief that the outsiders were to be exterminated.
So he became the Führer and dealt a blow to their kind.
But the next few decades saw the rise of the outsiders in the free world and they controlled most of the economy. A small group of these 'Untermensch' had vowed to never forget him and take over the world as revenge, taking apart and undoing everything he had worked for.
Now, thousands of years later, he was regarded as the true Evil one. Just when he thought he could rest in peace forever, the small population that survived the 5 nuclear wars had come together and decided that he was the reason why Nuclear weapons had come into existence.
They erected a statue in Germany and desecrated it by any means possible. Every year on this day they came together and violated his effigy as some sort of a sick festival.
The only way he could console himself was that he brought humanity back together for a single cause albeit a cause he did not care for.
| I always figured the afterlife would be someplace nice, something different from the constant trials and heartaches we experience during life, something like open fields with perfect weather where everyone sang and laughed through perfect bliss. But boy was I wrong.
In many ways this was hell, but different from what you'd expect. There were no fire and brimstone or evil lairs with guys in red panties and pitchforks ready to punish the evil doers...no it was much, much worse. Imagine absolute solitude for not only years, but decades, centuries, millennia; all whilst watching your loved ones come and ago, watching their offspring as they come into being, experiencing love, pain, heartache before eventually passing away. Imagine hundreds of years pass before that family you so loved and endeared where completely alien to you now, without the customs and quirks that made you family in the first place.
And that isn't even the worst part. I was fine with leaving it all behind, we all die someday right? I was fine with crossing over to the afterlife, hell, I was fine with no afterlife at all, willing to cease to exist as long as I knew that my family would be taken care of for the rest of their lives. But not this...anything but this. Meeting my guide, I learned that you're only conscious for as long as people remembered you. I figured that'd take awhile. I was a pretty accomplished athlete, nothing too famous but enough to hold a few commercials here and there, so I figured give me a few decades and I'd be out. However the same family that I so loved and cherished ended up cursing me in the end. After the events of my early demise they had held a pretty large funeral, hailing me as the poster child for the dangers of brain injuries. They had started a movement, carrying on my legacy so that others were more equipped with knowledge so that they didn't commit my same mistakes. They even named a charity after me.
I was proud of their achievements, but soon grew to hate it, despise it. Here I am 15,000 years later being taught in college campuses and academics all across the galaxy, still reeling from my insufferable solitude, hoping for the day I die...cursed by the love and care by a few who refused to let my memories pass on.
Ironic, right? | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | I floated through the Himalayas seeking the Holy One. The last seer of the Temple of the Third Eye. The only being who could sense my presence and answer my eternal question.
Finally I saw the tiered roofs of a pagoda through the snowy mist. I had found the temple.
Free of a mortal body, I hastened through the ice and rocks, flying through ancient stone pillars and up winding stairs, until I reached the terrace where the Holy One meditated. His fragile naked body oblivious to the harsh winds that howled around his monastery.
I waited patiently as he contemplated eternity. It was almost a month before he finally acknowledged me.
"Your grace, I beseech you. Answer my one question" I pleaded. "Why is my spirit trapped on this mortal coil for all these millennia?"
The Holy One pondered long without answering.
"My time has long passed" I said. "Who still remembers me so deeply that their thoughts entwine me to this Earthly plane?"
It was a full week before the sage finally responded. His papery lips fluttered as he whispered to me.
"Listen closely Jesus, that middle eastern peace cult you started up fifteen thousand years ago has turned into the world's most dominant religion. Kids worship images of your grisly execution every damn day. No one is forgetting you in a hurry." | I always figured the afterlife would be someplace nice, something different from the constant trials and heartaches we experience during life, something like open fields with perfect weather where everyone sang and laughed through perfect bliss. But boy was I wrong.
In many ways this was hell, but different from what you'd expect. There were no fire and brimstone or evil lairs with guys in red panties and pitchforks ready to punish the evil doers...no it was much, much worse. Imagine absolute solitude for not only years, but decades, centuries, millennia; all whilst watching your loved ones come and ago, watching their offspring as they come into being, experiencing love, pain, heartache before eventually passing away. Imagine hundreds of years pass before that family you so loved and endeared where completely alien to you now, without the customs and quirks that made you family in the first place.
And that isn't even the worst part. I was fine with leaving it all behind, we all die someday right? I was fine with crossing over to the afterlife, hell, I was fine with no afterlife at all, willing to cease to exist as long as I knew that my family would be taken care of for the rest of their lives. But not this...anything but this. Meeting my guide, I learned that you're only conscious for as long as people remembered you. I figured that'd take awhile. I was a pretty accomplished athlete, nothing too famous but enough to hold a few commercials here and there, so I figured give me a few decades and I'd be out. However the same family that I so loved and cherished ended up cursing me in the end. After the events of my early demise they had held a pretty large funeral, hailing me as the poster child for the dangers of brain injuries. They had started a movement, carrying on my legacy so that others were more equipped with knowledge so that they didn't commit my same mistakes. They even named a charity after me.
I was proud of their achievements, but soon grew to hate it, despise it. Here I am 15,000 years later being taught in college campuses and academics all across the galaxy, still reeling from my insufferable solitude, hoping for the day I die...cursed by the love and care by a few who refused to let my memories pass on.
Ironic, right? | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | "Go!" I commanded as I held up my sword, mentally preparing for my demise to guarantee enough time for my queen to escape. Hoards of enemies appeared on the horizon and quickly charged down as the rest of us began our retreat.
"Captain..." I shook my head. They knew that no amount of words will turn me back from my decision. They knew how stubborn I am.
"Make sure she lives..." I gave my second-in-command a bittersweet grin and with that, he nodded and departed. I stood at the designated choke point, where enemies could only come in few. I muttered a short prayer before engaging in combat.
Like a lone wolf fighting hoards of endless enemies, I hope that my death would at least serve somewhat of a purpose. A heroic death.
-------
*The world...has greatly changed...since my death...*
*I've seen... the world transform... from villages... to small towns... to giant cities...*
*I've seen war... the endless cycle... of humanity... Oh how ironic it is... for us to fight... rather than... cooperate...*
*I still ponder... at my semi-existence... why am I still here?... Is this... what afterlife... looks like...?*
*I doubt it... There's no one... but me and others... living beings... who are completely... unaware of me...*
*Many things I can do... Defies natural laws... go through physical beings... float and watch... like a spectator watching... the beautiful world... slowly and finally... working together...*
-------
Fellow men, the Empire dates back to the one man who saved us all. His bravery. His courage. His noble sacrifice is what continue us to this day. Let us learn from him.
Yes sir!
---------
Alright children, gather around. Here's a story about a legendary swordsman who risks his life for the greater good.
Oh! I love that story. My grandfather tells me that one all the time. I love it!
Now now Jack, let's not spoil it for others.
-------
"Haven't you heard, man?" Joe said as he kept drinking, now completely wasted, "That infamous legend of the warrior that managed to keep his queen alive by sacrificing himself. I aspire to be like that for Maddie."
"Shhh... You have too much to drink tonight. You and your love for history. You wouldn't want to do that for that crazy ex of yours."
-------
*Ah... Maybe it's not that bad... I hope I get to see... how much humanity... progresses into... the better future.*
| I always figured the afterlife would be someplace nice, something different from the constant trials and heartaches we experience during life, something like open fields with perfect weather where everyone sang and laughed through perfect bliss. But boy was I wrong.
In many ways this was hell, but different from what you'd expect. There were no fire and brimstone or evil lairs with guys in red panties and pitchforks ready to punish the evil doers...no it was much, much worse. Imagine absolute solitude for not only years, but decades, centuries, millennia; all whilst watching your loved ones come and ago, watching their offspring as they come into being, experiencing love, pain, heartache before eventually passing away. Imagine hundreds of years pass before that family you so loved and endeared where completely alien to you now, without the customs and quirks that made you family in the first place.
And that isn't even the worst part. I was fine with leaving it all behind, we all die someday right? I was fine with crossing over to the afterlife, hell, I was fine with no afterlife at all, willing to cease to exist as long as I knew that my family would be taken care of for the rest of their lives. But not this...anything but this. Meeting my guide, I learned that you're only conscious for as long as people remembered you. I figured that'd take awhile. I was a pretty accomplished athlete, nothing too famous but enough to hold a few commercials here and there, so I figured give me a few decades and I'd be out. However the same family that I so loved and cherished ended up cursing me in the end. After the events of my early demise they had held a pretty large funeral, hailing me as the poster child for the dangers of brain injuries. They had started a movement, carrying on my legacy so that others were more equipped with knowledge so that they didn't commit my same mistakes. They even named a charity after me.
I was proud of their achievements, but soon grew to hate it, despise it. Here I am 15,000 years later being taught in college campuses and academics all across the galaxy, still reeling from my insufferable solitude, hoping for the day I die...cursed by the love and care by a few who refused to let my memories pass on.
Ironic, right? | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | "Well, this sucks, Bill."
"As I'm aware, for the millionth time" Bill sighed. For all Bill knew, Ted might actually be at the million mark now.
The two ghosts stared over the horizon as the sun set, golden rays washing over the peaceful Californian vineyard.
"Bill... Why..." Ted began to drawl, his eyes drooping with weariness.
"Look I told you, okay? It was an Accident. Acc-i-dent." Bill was visibly agitated, as well as a ghost can be.
"But.. it was just a container of mayonnaise?"
"Miracle whip, different stuff Ted"
Bill sighed again. No one could've expected that, in the horrific explosion of the Eureka Nuclear Power Plant, a single condiment jar would give everyone on the planet immortality. The setting sun, it would be back again. Like it has been for the past fifteen thousand years.
Before Bill could explain any more, the soft muffles of snoring forced his eyes off the horizon and onto his comrade. Ted was slouched over, drooling slightly.
"I really should've never put my name on it." Bill exclaimed out loud, but deep down he knew that he *hated* when anyone used his stuff. | I always figured the afterlife would be someplace nice, something different from the constant trials and heartaches we experience during life, something like open fields with perfect weather where everyone sang and laughed through perfect bliss. But boy was I wrong.
In many ways this was hell, but different from what you'd expect. There were no fire and brimstone or evil lairs with guys in red panties and pitchforks ready to punish the evil doers...no it was much, much worse. Imagine absolute solitude for not only years, but decades, centuries, millennia; all whilst watching your loved ones come and ago, watching their offspring as they come into being, experiencing love, pain, heartache before eventually passing away. Imagine hundreds of years pass before that family you so loved and endeared where completely alien to you now, without the customs and quirks that made you family in the first place.
And that isn't even the worst part. I was fine with leaving it all behind, we all die someday right? I was fine with crossing over to the afterlife, hell, I was fine with no afterlife at all, willing to cease to exist as long as I knew that my family would be taken care of for the rest of their lives. But not this...anything but this. Meeting my guide, I learned that you're only conscious for as long as people remembered you. I figured that'd take awhile. I was a pretty accomplished athlete, nothing too famous but enough to hold a few commercials here and there, so I figured give me a few decades and I'd be out. However the same family that I so loved and cherished ended up cursing me in the end. After the events of my early demise they had held a pretty large funeral, hailing me as the poster child for the dangers of brain injuries. They had started a movement, carrying on my legacy so that others were more equipped with knowledge so that they didn't commit my same mistakes. They even named a charity after me.
I was proud of their achievements, but soon grew to hate it, despise it. Here I am 15,000 years later being taught in college campuses and academics all across the galaxy, still reeling from my insufferable solitude, hoping for the day I die...cursed by the love and care by a few who refused to let my memories pass on.
Ironic, right? | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | Getting your bearings, that's the tricky part; the handle on what you're experiencing, and how you're experiencing it. Once you open your eyes, and learn how to move your arms, you'd be surprised how far you can reach.
Sometimes, the ones that have nearly overcome the trauma of their journey stir a little to my words. I don't really know if they understand my meaning, or even struggled to comprehend the meaning behind my harsh noises. The real trouble was, none of them stuck around long enough to have the time to really open their eyes. A meager handful of centuries at best, before the gossamer strands of memory binding them together turned, inexorably, to dust.
I once knew a certain man, and more importantly, this man knows me. He never had wealth or fame, and honestly I can't recall even his name. The placing of terminally ill persons into a manner of stasis wasn't exactly a new idea, you see, but the hurdle of being able to reverse the process was overcome by some brilliant young mind whom I thank dearly.
And so it came to pass, after how long I cannot reckon, that I opened my eyes. Later still I would explore the breadth of my grasp, and find it tremendous. I set my will to ensuring that the man who knew me remained undisturbed. So long as the stars burned, they would fuel the machines that preserved a certain, unremarkable human.
It took only a few decades of influence. Sharing portions of my vision with those living bright enough to put it into action, as well as enticing ideas for possible wealth in investors took care of the rest. A group of some few hundred in stasis, including the man who remembered me, were transported to a bunker, miles deep and attended autonomously. The supplies in reserve would keep several hundred humans in stasis for over ten thousand years. Fortunately, the fortress was only ever designed to keep one person safe.
The armed revolt, which conveniently killed everyone with any knowledge the bunker's location, took less than five years to bloom.
Even now, mankind struggles to make the leap of harassing a significant portion of the sun's output. It will be enough for a few billion years, but that will do for now. | I always figured the afterlife would be someplace nice, something different from the constant trials and heartaches we experience during life, something like open fields with perfect weather where everyone sang and laughed through perfect bliss. But boy was I wrong.
In many ways this was hell, but different from what you'd expect. There were no fire and brimstone or evil lairs with guys in red panties and pitchforks ready to punish the evil doers...no it was much, much worse. Imagine absolute solitude for not only years, but decades, centuries, millennia; all whilst watching your loved ones come and ago, watching their offspring as they come into being, experiencing love, pain, heartache before eventually passing away. Imagine hundreds of years pass before that family you so loved and endeared where completely alien to you now, without the customs and quirks that made you family in the first place.
And that isn't even the worst part. I was fine with leaving it all behind, we all die someday right? I was fine with crossing over to the afterlife, hell, I was fine with no afterlife at all, willing to cease to exist as long as I knew that my family would be taken care of for the rest of their lives. But not this...anything but this. Meeting my guide, I learned that you're only conscious for as long as people remembered you. I figured that'd take awhile. I was a pretty accomplished athlete, nothing too famous but enough to hold a few commercials here and there, so I figured give me a few decades and I'd be out. However the same family that I so loved and cherished ended up cursing me in the end. After the events of my early demise they had held a pretty large funeral, hailing me as the poster child for the dangers of brain injuries. They had started a movement, carrying on my legacy so that others were more equipped with knowledge so that they didn't commit my same mistakes. They even named a charity after me.
I was proud of their achievements, but soon grew to hate it, despise it. Here I am 15,000 years later being taught in college campuses and academics all across the galaxy, still reeling from my insufferable solitude, hoping for the day I die...cursed by the love and care by a few who refused to let my memories pass on.
Ironic, right? | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | **Dedication to Jim Morrison**
"I died on the sands of Singapore."
Melchiades had said
As he faded into darkness
With his only friend.
He lives, now, in crystal palaces
Where buildings shine like mirrors
Reflecting sunlight.
His words ride like violent storms
Across the open range.
They burn like mercury
In the old black crucible
You have found immortality my friend.
Enjoy it.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
NOTE: This was a very old poem I've written during a weird time where I had a little bit of an obsession with 100 Years of Solitude and The Doors (The 60s in general). When I read the prompt I thought about this poem. Whether its good or not I have no idea. At the time of writing the poem I wrote about 200 or so others, Some okay. Others not so much. | I always figured the afterlife would be someplace nice, something different from the constant trials and heartaches we experience during life, something like open fields with perfect weather where everyone sang and laughed through perfect bliss. But boy was I wrong.
In many ways this was hell, but different from what you'd expect. There were no fire and brimstone or evil lairs with guys in red panties and pitchforks ready to punish the evil doers...no it was much, much worse. Imagine absolute solitude for not only years, but decades, centuries, millennia; all whilst watching your loved ones come and ago, watching their offspring as they come into being, experiencing love, pain, heartache before eventually passing away. Imagine hundreds of years pass before that family you so loved and endeared where completely alien to you now, without the customs and quirks that made you family in the first place.
And that isn't even the worst part. I was fine with leaving it all behind, we all die someday right? I was fine with crossing over to the afterlife, hell, I was fine with no afterlife at all, willing to cease to exist as long as I knew that my family would be taken care of for the rest of their lives. But not this...anything but this. Meeting my guide, I learned that you're only conscious for as long as people remembered you. I figured that'd take awhile. I was a pretty accomplished athlete, nothing too famous but enough to hold a few commercials here and there, so I figured give me a few decades and I'd be out. However the same family that I so loved and cherished ended up cursing me in the end. After the events of my early demise they had held a pretty large funeral, hailing me as the poster child for the dangers of brain injuries. They had started a movement, carrying on my legacy so that others were more equipped with knowledge so that they didn't commit my same mistakes. They even named a charity after me.
I was proud of their achievements, but soon grew to hate it, despise it. Here I am 15,000 years later being taught in college campuses and academics all across the galaxy, still reeling from my insufferable solitude, hoping for the day I die...cursed by the love and care by a few who refused to let my memories pass on.
Ironic, right? | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | I have been on this planet for the last 15k years. They say that the soul transfers to the next dimension when you are the forgotten past. Every year the portal closes on me on the same day, January 1. The one day I look forward to seeing. But these mortals refuse to forget me. I have seen progress, when I was alive, I used to roam around in a bullock cart and now I see the people of this generation teleport. It is highly ironic that when I was alive, the only thing I wanted was to become immortal, rich and a legend that nobody forgets.
But that has come to bite me in my ass. Death has simplified things, all my friends have passed away to the next dimension but I am still here, because of that one man I save all those years ago when I was barely twenty years old. I was going home, walking on the road, unlike the kids of this generation who just teleport where ever they want, our generation had to actually walk. In a dark corner, I saw a man. I thought he was an addict which is why I did not look at him and kept walking ahead. But he called me, "Excuse me."
I pretended to not hear him and quickened my pace.
But I heard him wail, again. "Excuse me, I think I am having a stroke. Do you have water?"
My entire outlook changed when I saw death standing in front me me in his form, I thought of my parents, friends and saw them in the wailing man. I ran to my home to fetch some water, luckily enough, I lived at a stone's throw distance from the man. I got him water and he sat down. It turned out that he had diabetes and he was not having a heart attack.
He asked me to stay with him until his family arrived, and they did, in an Audi A7. I had never seen an Audi this closely in life, it turned out that he was a big politician who was strolling and not a drug addict.
Politicians in India have a big following among the working class and this man said he saw God in me and that was the day he started spreading the rumour that I was the last avatar of Lord kalki and because he was a famous politician, these stupid people started praying to me and overnight I became a godman despite the fact that I did not want anything to do with him. He gave me his Audi as a gift for saving his life and even though I refused, he parked it in front of my home and hung the key in my door.
His followers formed a huge line for touching my feet for the better part of the year and I had to ask him to tell them to stop. I started another rumour and they did stop. But they did not stop praying about me and thinking about me. One lunatic god fearing follower of the politician built a temple in my name and there is an actual priest who sits there, it is apparently a big business.
When I was on my deathbed, I hoped that it would die with me, but after my death, the myth of my power (I did not have any) just grew exponentially, some claimed to see me fly, some said I teleported and what not and 1k years later I became an actual God. They prayed to Lord Ganesh and me at the same time. 15k years later, they wrote books about my mythical superpowers and some even claimed that I was the Godhead.
There is no hope left for me now to be released from this world, I am doomed to stay here, as a spirit, powerless to do anything at all.
All this for saving a life. | I always figured the afterlife would be someplace nice, something different from the constant trials and heartaches we experience during life, something like open fields with perfect weather where everyone sang and laughed through perfect bliss. But boy was I wrong.
In many ways this was hell, but different from what you'd expect. There were no fire and brimstone or evil lairs with guys in red panties and pitchforks ready to punish the evil doers...no it was much, much worse. Imagine absolute solitude for not only years, but decades, centuries, millennia; all whilst watching your loved ones come and ago, watching their offspring as they come into being, experiencing love, pain, heartache before eventually passing away. Imagine hundreds of years pass before that family you so loved and endeared where completely alien to you now, without the customs and quirks that made you family in the first place.
And that isn't even the worst part. I was fine with leaving it all behind, we all die someday right? I was fine with crossing over to the afterlife, hell, I was fine with no afterlife at all, willing to cease to exist as long as I knew that my family would be taken care of for the rest of their lives. But not this...anything but this. Meeting my guide, I learned that you're only conscious for as long as people remembered you. I figured that'd take awhile. I was a pretty accomplished athlete, nothing too famous but enough to hold a few commercials here and there, so I figured give me a few decades and I'd be out. However the same family that I so loved and cherished ended up cursing me in the end. After the events of my early demise they had held a pretty large funeral, hailing me as the poster child for the dangers of brain injuries. They had started a movement, carrying on my legacy so that others were more equipped with knowledge so that they didn't commit my same mistakes. They even named a charity after me.
I was proud of their achievements, but soon grew to hate it, despise it. Here I am 15,000 years later being taught in college campuses and academics all across the galaxy, still reeling from my insufferable solitude, hoping for the day I die...cursed by the love and care by a few who refused to let my memories pass on.
Ironic, right? | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | "Well then."
Being informed that you are still remembered 15,000 years after your death should seem pretty awesome. I guess it was, after a fashion.
"I just wish it had been for something other than eating that Golden Corral into bankruptcy." I sighed. | I always figured the afterlife would be someplace nice, something different from the constant trials and heartaches we experience during life, something like open fields with perfect weather where everyone sang and laughed through perfect bliss. But boy was I wrong.
In many ways this was hell, but different from what you'd expect. There were no fire and brimstone or evil lairs with guys in red panties and pitchforks ready to punish the evil doers...no it was much, much worse. Imagine absolute solitude for not only years, but decades, centuries, millennia; all whilst watching your loved ones come and ago, watching their offspring as they come into being, experiencing love, pain, heartache before eventually passing away. Imagine hundreds of years pass before that family you so loved and endeared where completely alien to you now, without the customs and quirks that made you family in the first place.
And that isn't even the worst part. I was fine with leaving it all behind, we all die someday right? I was fine with crossing over to the afterlife, hell, I was fine with no afterlife at all, willing to cease to exist as long as I knew that my family would be taken care of for the rest of their lives. But not this...anything but this. Meeting my guide, I learned that you're only conscious for as long as people remembered you. I figured that'd take awhile. I was a pretty accomplished athlete, nothing too famous but enough to hold a few commercials here and there, so I figured give me a few decades and I'd be out. However the same family that I so loved and cherished ended up cursing me in the end. After the events of my early demise they had held a pretty large funeral, hailing me as the poster child for the dangers of brain injuries. They had started a movement, carrying on my legacy so that others were more equipped with knowledge so that they didn't commit my same mistakes. They even named a charity after me.
I was proud of their achievements, but soon grew to hate it, despise it. Here I am 15,000 years later being taught in college campuses and academics all across the galaxy, still reeling from my insufferable solitude, hoping for the day I die...cursed by the love and care by a few who refused to let my memories pass on.
Ironic, right? | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | Anna’s Ghost
***
“Anna, can you hear me?” I asked.
“What?” my only daughter answered drearily. She was slumped over her dining table. Her eyes were red. It was late. She had been crying.
“Anna, it’s me,” I said. I put all my strength into being heard. Into existing.
“Oh my goodness, dad?” Suddenly, Anna was alert. She stood up and began to pace back and forth. “No! There’s no way that’s you. Gosh, I must be going crazy!”
“Anna, you’re not crazy! Listen to me!”
Anna shook her head. “No, I can’t entertain delusions! You’re not real! I’m just hallucinating because it’s one year since you died. My boss said I should see a psychiatrist after I had the breakdown. I didn’t listen.”
I didn’t want to see Anna like this. I wanted her to smile again. She hadn’t smiled once since I died.
“Anna… It doesn’t matter if you think I’m real or not. I just want to tell you something. I’ve seen you hurting. I know you feel like you failed, and-”
“I did fail, dad! After mum died, I spent my life trying to save you! And I failed!”
“Anna, I know what failure feels like. Believe me, I’ve had my fair share. But I’ve seen you grow, and you have been my proudest achievement. It hurts to see you go through this. You have mourned, and it is time to move on and finish your work.”
I must have struck a chord, because Anna paused and sat down again. “My work…” she muttered.
Anna was the smartest person I’d ever known, and that’s not just my pride as a father speaking. She was very young when her mother died, and I suppose she never accepted it. She became a biotechnical researcher, and she spent her life working on unlocking human immortality. Her research was her passion at the expense of all else. To her, my death was more than the loss of a loved one. It was the failure of her life’s work.
“Anna, listen,” I began. “There are so many more people out there who need you now. Just before I died, you told me you were so close to a breakthrough. You told me to hang on. I was in awe, you know? In awe at what an amazing person you’d become.” I chuckled at the memory. I don’t know if Anna could hear my chuckle, but a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and my heart soared. “Please, do this for me. You always seemed happiest when you were at work. I want to see that again.”
I stayed with Anna that night, and we talked until the sun rose.
The next day, she applied to return to her old position on the research team. They had been utterly lost without her, and they accepted her immediately.
***
Within a decade, human immortality was viable, and Anna became the world’s most famous scientist. She was never accustomed to the spotlight, and I think she found it more daunting than anything she had faced in her work. Her auburn hair turned a silvery grey.
In the meantime, I met other ghosts. From their experience, they explained that ghosts remained on Earth for as long as they were remembered. Very few ghosts were able to make themselves heard. I was one of the lucky ones. A few of the ghosts were social, but most kept to themselves. It didn’t matter much to me. I had been social in life, but in death I felt comfort in isolation.
I even met Anna’s mother again. She was happy, albeit apprehensive, to see me. All the problems we’d experienced in life felt like a bad dream. We spoke for a great length, and then enjoyed each other’s company in silence.
***
Anna had wanted to die. With no living family, and no close friends, she felt that she had given her gift to humanity and was ready to leave.
“When I die, I’ll be with my parents,” she told the media. Her wishes were met with great protest. A mind like hers shouldn’t die, the media said. I was inclined to agree, but Anna would have none of it. She had made peace with her end. She said she wanted to join me and her mother on the other side.
It was the strangest thing that convinced her to live. I had told her that ghosts disappear when they are forgotten. Anna asked me what happens to ghosts after they disappear, but I had no idea. Anna was the one who pieced it together.
“So, after I die, who will be alive to remember you and mum? Eventually, you’ll disappear. But I won’t join you. I’ll never disappear, because everyone alive knows my name and, thanks to me, they’ll never die.”
That was the reason for her choice, and it showed how much she truly loved her mother and me. The truth was that, even though I had wanted Anna to live forever, I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do. Maybe that’s just me and my old fashioned ways.
I stayed by her side for thousands of years.
***
Humanity spread across the universe. My dearest Anna was appointed as a scientific advisor to the Federation of the Milky Way, the most densely populated and economically active human federation in the universe.
Every few decades, Anna set aside a year to spend time with me and her mother. Humanity’s languages had long since evolved into forms we could not understand, but Anna spoke to us in the version of English we had used when I was alive. It was a simple gesture, so that I did not have to trouble myself learning new dialects every few centuries, but I always felt touched.
Unfortunately, this did not last forever.
Fifteen thousand years after my death, Anna told me that the hardware in her brain had long ago reached the physical limits of the universe, and it was it now packed to its capacity. Any information she wished to gain, she had to erase something else from her mind.
“There’s a lot of processing power in my mind,” she told me. “I’ve been using it to make sense of the crazy amount of policies that the government implements for the Galaxy. Most people have regular memory clean-ups every decade. I need to forget, or my mind is going to stagnate.”
“What are you saying?” I asked, but I knew. My mind was like a termite compared to hers, but I could understand enough. She needed to erase memories that were least relevant to her current life – the memories of her life fifteen thousand years ago. Her mother and I would disappear.
Eventually, I spoke. “Anna, I’m so proud of all the good you’ve done for humanity, and everything you’ve created. It’s more than what I ever thought was humanly possible. If this is going to be a goodbye, then I’m happy for the fifteen thousand years we’ve shared.”
Anna was silent.
***
Eventually, my last day came.
Anna organised her memory clean-up. It was going to be precise. Her mind would be in peak condition afterwards. The androids who perform such procedures sensed her apprehension, and they gave her words of comfort. She didn’t say anything in response.
Just as the procedure was about to begin, Anna signalled for the androids to stop.
The androids seemed puzzled, and they asked her something in their foreign syntax. I had no idea what their question was, but Anna responded in a version of English I understood.
“No.”
***
Epilogue:
Human self-terminations were rare, but they were known to happen.
Anna’s last wish was that her self-termination was not to be publicised. She requested that all records of her existence be removed from the public archives. All her work and achievements, spanning fifteen millennia of scientific and political progress, were to be reattributed to Anna’s colleague, who was happy to take the credit.
After Anna’s death, she remained as a ghost, sustained by the memories of the people who knew her personally. As centuries passed, the memories of those people were cleaned up and overwritten. Eventually, Anna faded.
Her last hope as a ghost was that she would see her parents again on the other side, if one existed. | I always figured the afterlife would be someplace nice, something different from the constant trials and heartaches we experience during life, something like open fields with perfect weather where everyone sang and laughed through perfect bliss. But boy was I wrong.
In many ways this was hell, but different from what you'd expect. There were no fire and brimstone or evil lairs with guys in red panties and pitchforks ready to punish the evil doers...no it was much, much worse. Imagine absolute solitude for not only years, but decades, centuries, millennia; all whilst watching your loved ones come and ago, watching their offspring as they come into being, experiencing love, pain, heartache before eventually passing away. Imagine hundreds of years pass before that family you so loved and endeared where completely alien to you now, without the customs and quirks that made you family in the first place.
And that isn't even the worst part. I was fine with leaving it all behind, we all die someday right? I was fine with crossing over to the afterlife, hell, I was fine with no afterlife at all, willing to cease to exist as long as I knew that my family would be taken care of for the rest of their lives. But not this...anything but this. Meeting my guide, I learned that you're only conscious for as long as people remembered you. I figured that'd take awhile. I was a pretty accomplished athlete, nothing too famous but enough to hold a few commercials here and there, so I figured give me a few decades and I'd be out. However the same family that I so loved and cherished ended up cursing me in the end. After the events of my early demise they had held a pretty large funeral, hailing me as the poster child for the dangers of brain injuries. They had started a movement, carrying on my legacy so that others were more equipped with knowledge so that they didn't commit my same mistakes. They even named a charity after me.
I was proud of their achievements, but soon grew to hate it, despise it. Here I am 15,000 years later being taught in college campuses and academics all across the galaxy, still reeling from my insufferable solitude, hoping for the day I die...cursed by the love and care by a few who refused to let my memories pass on.
Ironic, right? | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | Before I was a ghost, I was a miraculous gentleman of great gravitas, a real stand outer. A thunderbolt incarnate that shocked and electrified every sap that I met. I could be put in the same room with any person, man or woman, and they would be proposing engagement in 5 minutes. I even had to cut off this one guy from ordering a wedding elephant. He was a funny bastard, I think his name was Frank, from Montana, working in power plant demolition. Anyways, long story short, I got power hungry and I sort of went all dictatorship and I won the highest body count medal, a religion popped up, and now I'm the Satan of it, well I'm not actually Lucifer, my name is You. Err no, wouldn't that be a great twist, something sort of grandiose and profoundish, but not really, my real name is Hal Holman. I blew up the moon, for my birthday, and the astroid belt that took it's place is called the Hal Holman Astroid Belt, I named it and it sort of stuck. | I always figured the afterlife would be someplace nice, something different from the constant trials and heartaches we experience during life, something like open fields with perfect weather where everyone sang and laughed through perfect bliss. But boy was I wrong.
In many ways this was hell, but different from what you'd expect. There were no fire and brimstone or evil lairs with guys in red panties and pitchforks ready to punish the evil doers...no it was much, much worse. Imagine absolute solitude for not only years, but decades, centuries, millennia; all whilst watching your loved ones come and ago, watching their offspring as they come into being, experiencing love, pain, heartache before eventually passing away. Imagine hundreds of years pass before that family you so loved and endeared where completely alien to you now, without the customs and quirks that made you family in the first place.
And that isn't even the worst part. I was fine with leaving it all behind, we all die someday right? I was fine with crossing over to the afterlife, hell, I was fine with no afterlife at all, willing to cease to exist as long as I knew that my family would be taken care of for the rest of their lives. But not this...anything but this. Meeting my guide, I learned that you're only conscious for as long as people remembered you. I figured that'd take awhile. I was a pretty accomplished athlete, nothing too famous but enough to hold a few commercials here and there, so I figured give me a few decades and I'd be out. However the same family that I so loved and cherished ended up cursing me in the end. After the events of my early demise they had held a pretty large funeral, hailing me as the poster child for the dangers of brain injuries. They had started a movement, carrying on my legacy so that others were more equipped with knowledge so that they didn't commit my same mistakes. They even named a charity after me.
I was proud of their achievements, but soon grew to hate it, despise it. Here I am 15,000 years later being taught in college campuses and academics all across the galaxy, still reeling from my insufferable solitude, hoping for the day I die...cursed by the love and care by a few who refused to let my memories pass on.
Ironic, right? | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | For every one, sixteen.
They say you learn by doing, ‘find things out the hard way’ and ultimately learn from your mistakes.
I’ve had a while to really learn from my own.
Throughout the time I spent amongst the living I was a scientist. I had wanted to do the world, no... that would be too megalomaniacal... I wanted to provide for those I loved. It just so happens that the world ended up being involved. The issue was that what I came up with was something so unbelievable that it threw me from just doing my job, making money for those I loved, to changing the world. I won’t lie. I was a scientist. Of course I wanted to change the world. But really, I wanted more than nothing else to make sure that I could provide.
My mother wasn’t exactly the most healthy of people and yet she raised me the way she did. My father was a presence in my childhood, however the nature of the world meant that he spent most of his time well away from his son. A son that needed attention, truth be told. Guidance, perhaps? I really can’t even say what it would be anymore. All I know is that I had a father but may as well have grown up without one.
This is the way of things when you are young and the world is at war though. At any moment it would appear that the world can collapse around you and as such, you find solace in your own interests. Those interests blossom as a result of being left alone. Interference in my disposition towards the marvellous was kept to a minimum and throughout my childhood I became something of a prodigy. I suppose that’s one way of putting it, at least. Truth be told what kind of prodigy causes what I did, what kind of prodigy has these insecurities that last, even now? Prodigy. What a dull and insignificant word.
There is something to be said about solitude though. It lends itself remarkably well to reflection and contemplation upon ones life, whether that be the actions that one took during its course or the ramifications of an existence. An existence such as mine. I have the time now, to truly contemplate upon the things that I did and what lead me to cause them. The reason I have this time? The rule. For every one, sixteen.
Such a peculiar number is sixteen.There’s nothing truly remarkable about it. It isn’t a prime. It comes so close to being one, seventeen just a plus one away, but it isn’t. Really, sixteen just exists. It’s there. Nothing much to it. Sixteen, however, happens to have become the most important number in what I can suggest is an existence. At least as far as I am concerned. Let it be said that I am nothing if not inherently selfish. Loneliness will do that, especially after such a long time.
For every one, sixteen.
Of course, all of this sounds incredibly morose. It isn’t necessarily that bad. I have been there throughout history. Mankind is such an interesting concept... I call it a concept these days, peculiar. I have watched the rise and fall of nations, geography and all manner of things. In a twisted sense of the word I might be considered lucky, to have witnessed humanity reach the stars, to colonise Mars... to begin to actualise what it as a species was capable of.
Twisted.
For all of their feats there was one thing that humanity never stopped doing. A force of habit, ingrained in their very biology. No science will back me up on this of course, this idea of mine is more of a philosophy rather than a truth. That said, I feel like I have had enough time to deduce the accuracy of such a certain statement.
Humanity provides the gift of its own attainment and destruction unto itself.
I feel my mind beginning to go. It’s incredibly surprising that it has taken this long, and yet slowly I feel it, the tendrils of madness doing their best to latch upon my consciousness and drag me away. I cannot lie, it is not my strength of will or anything along those lines that allows me to retain my sanity... allows me to give you this account. It is the memory.
At the moment of my recounting these thoughts to you I have been alive for just shy of a million years. My name is actually forgotten but that which I was involved in has not been, for that single project shaped the world into the twisted mess of decay it now is. It might have taken some time, but humanity eventually reached that point. Even if they didn’t, it wouldn’t have mattered to me. My involvement was enough.
For every one, sixteen.
I remember, somehow, being young. I ran through the fields of wheat without a care in the world, I didn’t begin to resent my Father until I was a little older, I withdrew into academia... I was involved in what would eventually end the world.
I feel my penance is justified. I will always be remembered, because I was involved in that which led to the barren landscape and the attempt at humanity I now bear witness to. It’s justified because I was involved. It’s justified because if I hadn’t have turned into the man I became, perhaps the chain of events that lead to all of this might never have happened.
I accept my penance, nonetheless. It’s only fair that you have a hand in the deaths of one hundred and twenty nine thousand people and receive punishment.
For every one, sixteen.
_____________
This is my first attempt at publicly responding to a prompt.
Hope you enjoyed this, if you have anything to say about it then I'd really appreciate the input.
| I always figured the afterlife would be someplace nice, something different from the constant trials and heartaches we experience during life, something like open fields with perfect weather where everyone sang and laughed through perfect bliss. But boy was I wrong.
In many ways this was hell, but different from what you'd expect. There were no fire and brimstone or evil lairs with guys in red panties and pitchforks ready to punish the evil doers...no it was much, much worse. Imagine absolute solitude for not only years, but decades, centuries, millennia; all whilst watching your loved ones come and ago, watching their offspring as they come into being, experiencing love, pain, heartache before eventually passing away. Imagine hundreds of years pass before that family you so loved and endeared where completely alien to you now, without the customs and quirks that made you family in the first place.
And that isn't even the worst part. I was fine with leaving it all behind, we all die someday right? I was fine with crossing over to the afterlife, hell, I was fine with no afterlife at all, willing to cease to exist as long as I knew that my family would be taken care of for the rest of their lives. But not this...anything but this. Meeting my guide, I learned that you're only conscious for as long as people remembered you. I figured that'd take awhile. I was a pretty accomplished athlete, nothing too famous but enough to hold a few commercials here and there, so I figured give me a few decades and I'd be out. However the same family that I so loved and cherished ended up cursing me in the end. After the events of my early demise they had held a pretty large funeral, hailing me as the poster child for the dangers of brain injuries. They had started a movement, carrying on my legacy so that others were more equipped with knowledge so that they didn't commit my same mistakes. They even named a charity after me.
I was proud of their achievements, but soon grew to hate it, despise it. Here I am 15,000 years later being taught in college campuses and academics all across the galaxy, still reeling from my insufferable solitude, hoping for the day I die...cursed by the love and care by a few who refused to let my memories pass on.
Ironic, right? | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | "This way." Leonard was clearly distraught to see me point down the spookier of the two corridors. I sighed. "For the hundredth time, I promise you that nothing down here will kill you."
Leonard looked back and forth hesitantly between me and the corridor, white-knuckling his bolter like it was a security blanket.
"Come on, it's just another minute or so, and it'll all be over. Then you'll get everything I promised you: the account numbers, the exabytes of blackmail material, all the vault locations... everything."
It was quite the treasure trove I had amassed over the years -- centuries upon centuries of payouts from dealing in information gleaned from private conversations in board rooms and war rooms alike. It took me an embarrassingly long time to understand how far beyond my own ability my problem was to solve, that I had to make it in others' best interests to help me. And nothing -- not sympathy, not duty; nothing -- motivates people like money and power. I had lost count of all the dynasties I had made, and as well those I'd brought to ruin when they disobeyed.
Truth be told, I had grown sick of the king-making business not long after I had started, and millennium after millennium, I looked forward to the day it would all be behind me. And as to who would inherit it all, well, I frankly didn't give a shit. Might as well be Leonard.
But Leonard was getting cold feet again. His terror-sticken stare reminded me of a cow, and I lamented that I couldn't tell him how much he looked like one because he of course had no clue what a cow was, as they'd gone extinct several thousands of years before Leonard was born. That might have been my fault. I don't even remember.
The problem with Leonard, I think, was that the sheer _mediocrity_ of everything about him meant that he couldn't fathom the magnitude of the wealth I was offering him, so to him it was simply unreal. I laughed at first when I saw that it was some newly hired maintenance worker who had lucked into an all-access pass to the whole of this subterranean kingdom courtesy of a software bug, but it turned out that getting him off his ass was maddening. It felt degrading to have to combine the usual promise of riches with a more... personal effort.
I stepped directly up to him, glaring into his eyes from inches away. "Leonard," I demanded. "This is how you end it. You turn back now, I will not let you sleep _a fucking wink_. I will drown out the voices of your family with my screams. I will dismantle your will to live, if you don't walk down that fucking hallway. There is nothing down here to be afraid of but _me_. Do you understand? Now get moving."
Leonard wimpered, but obliged.
To be fair, this place was essentially an industrial crypt. Even the slums ended hundreds of floors up. I was honestly pretty surprised to see how many of the elevators still worked despite the inconsistent coverage for the lighting and air filtration systems. Some damned fine 152nd Century engineering, right there.
"S-so where are we now?" Leonard was skimming his flashlight over the rusted sculture of a company logo.
"These are the last offices of Express Lunar Imports, which went out of business..." I paused to do a bit of mental math "...about 140 years ago. They were the last company to buy into a contract with QuikClean Cleaning Solutions, which was the last company to upgrade their droids from..." I clenched my teeth. "From Tier 7 AI."
We walked down the rest of the hallway and turned the corner in silence.
The inevitable question was coming.
"You've mentioned that before, I think," started Leonard. "Tier 7 AI tech. I mean, that's ancient history. What's-- I mean, if you don't mind me asking..."
I looked at Leonard expectantly.
"Do you have some kind of problem, or something? With Tier 7 AI?"
I swallowed. Funny how lacking a body still permitted me to do that, if only as a social cue, out of habit.
We came to the door to the reception area for the executive offices. I pointed to the badge scanner. Despite the lack of power the surrounding darkness suggested, the scanner's red LED shined strongly. They were on a different circuit, still leeching nigh-undetectable amounts of power from the grid all the way up on surface.
Leonard scanned his badge. After one of Leonard's practically-audible heartbeats, the scanner's light turned green, and we entered the reception area.
"Tier 8 was the first fundamental move away from a neurological design. They rebuilt the basis for Tier 8 from scratch. Before then, it was all just layering updates and improvements onto what was, deep down, fundamentally still Tier 1. And do you know how they developed Tier 1 AI?"
"Well, no. How?"
"It was the commercialized, commodified result of what was cutting-edge research at the time: research into artificially reproducing a human brain."
I led Leonard past the reception desk and into the short corridor of grandiose double-doors beyond, labeled with names and varying executive titles in a script now long-forgotten.
"But building it up from scratch was still too difficult, back then," I explained. "So they cheated. Rather than recreate a brain, they _copied_ one from a corpse, from someone who had died and donated his body to science." Leonard was confused about my choice of words. I smirked. "We didn't always have reclamation centers, y'know. When we died, we could choose to be used for research, but most of us chose to decompose, instead." Leonard was visibly disgusted at the thought. How the times change.
"The first successful trial, _apparently_, came from reconstructing the brain of none other than my own deceased brother. Which was an honor in many ways, I suppose. But as we knew quite a lot less about the brain, they didn't do as thorough a job of lobotomizing it of its memories and personality as they would have liked. Or maybe they tried, but weren't precise enough to finish the job without rendering the artificial brain inoperable."
I pointed to the badge scanner at the door to the Vice President's office. Leonard scanned his badge.
"And since they wanted to be the first to market, they minted what they had as the standard to be mass-manufactured, bits of my brother and all. It flew completely under the radar. And the era of AI blossomed out of that."
We entered the Vice President's office, and Leonard marveled at how clean and orderly it was compared to the dust- and debris-filled hallways we had journeyed through. With a quick scan around the office, I found what I was looking for immediately: a cleaning droid slumped in the corner of the room in its recharging station. Found you at last, you elusive bastard.
"Since it never impacted their sales, they never finished scrubbing out those barest remnants of my brother. I found out the hard way when I bought one and it exhibited some... deeply unsettling behavior. That one, and every AI Tier since, right up through 7. And they decided it was easier to just pay me off and ask me to stay away from the things instead of fixing that one little quirk."
Leonard looked on nervously. "S-so what did you want me to do?"
The cleaning droid finished booting. Its eyes lit up and it raised its head to look at us, and began to announce,
_< PLEASE REFILL SOAP DISP-- >_
I knew what was coming. Just like the hundreds of thousands of similar models I had tracked down one-by-one, it turned to me, cocked its head to the side, and asked in a language I hadn't heard a human speak in over fourteen thousand years:
_< JACK, IS THAT YOU? >_
I turned to Leonard.
"I need _you_ to shoot _that_ in its fucking head." | I always figured the afterlife would be someplace nice, something different from the constant trials and heartaches we experience during life, something like open fields with perfect weather where everyone sang and laughed through perfect bliss. But boy was I wrong.
In many ways this was hell, but different from what you'd expect. There were no fire and brimstone or evil lairs with guys in red panties and pitchforks ready to punish the evil doers...no it was much, much worse. Imagine absolute solitude for not only years, but decades, centuries, millennia; all whilst watching your loved ones come and ago, watching their offspring as they come into being, experiencing love, pain, heartache before eventually passing away. Imagine hundreds of years pass before that family you so loved and endeared where completely alien to you now, without the customs and quirks that made you family in the first place.
And that isn't even the worst part. I was fine with leaving it all behind, we all die someday right? I was fine with crossing over to the afterlife, hell, I was fine with no afterlife at all, willing to cease to exist as long as I knew that my family would be taken care of for the rest of their lives. But not this...anything but this. Meeting my guide, I learned that you're only conscious for as long as people remembered you. I figured that'd take awhile. I was a pretty accomplished athlete, nothing too famous but enough to hold a few commercials here and there, so I figured give me a few decades and I'd be out. However the same family that I so loved and cherished ended up cursing me in the end. After the events of my early demise they had held a pretty large funeral, hailing me as the poster child for the dangers of brain injuries. They had started a movement, carrying on my legacy so that others were more equipped with knowledge so that they didn't commit my same mistakes. They even named a charity after me.
I was proud of their achievements, but soon grew to hate it, despise it. Here I am 15,000 years later being taught in college campuses and academics all across the galaxy, still reeling from my insufferable solitude, hoping for the day I die...cursed by the love and care by a few who refused to let my memories pass on.
Ironic, right? | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | He was crying alone at the ghost bar. Not wailing, not moaning, just lightly sobbing
"Hey now... What troubles you so, friend?" I moved next to him at the bar "It can't be that bad"
"It's been 15,000 years today" He lamented "15,000 years of..." He waved his arms around "THIS!". He pounded his head against the counter. Or rather attempted to
I whistled. I had only been dead myself for 626 years. A successful businessman and entrepreneur I was thankful I had never immortalized my achievements by writing any memoirs or biographies. I was approaching my own erase with just a handful of historians knowing of my existence and one umpteenth removed descendant. "That's pretty rough. I think you might hold the record"
"Well they can shove it..."
"I don't know how it's possible that you've been remembered for 15,000 years. Were you a visionary? Were you an influential religious leader?" I sized him up but by all accounts he had the appearance of a normal man "Were you a great conqueror? A ruthless tyrant who enslaved nations and committed countless atrocities?" He just didn't look the type. Especially in this pitiable and pathetic state
He gathered himself and rose slowly to address me
"I am just a man from Nantucket" He gestured to his crotch "And you have no idea how much of a curse THIS is..." | I always figured the afterlife would be someplace nice, something different from the constant trials and heartaches we experience during life, something like open fields with perfect weather where everyone sang and laughed through perfect bliss. But boy was I wrong.
In many ways this was hell, but different from what you'd expect. There were no fire and brimstone or evil lairs with guys in red panties and pitchforks ready to punish the evil doers...no it was much, much worse. Imagine absolute solitude for not only years, but decades, centuries, millennia; all whilst watching your loved ones come and ago, watching their offspring as they come into being, experiencing love, pain, heartache before eventually passing away. Imagine hundreds of years pass before that family you so loved and endeared where completely alien to you now, without the customs and quirks that made you family in the first place.
And that isn't even the worst part. I was fine with leaving it all behind, we all die someday right? I was fine with crossing over to the afterlife, hell, I was fine with no afterlife at all, willing to cease to exist as long as I knew that my family would be taken care of for the rest of their lives. But not this...anything but this. Meeting my guide, I learned that you're only conscious for as long as people remembered you. I figured that'd take awhile. I was a pretty accomplished athlete, nothing too famous but enough to hold a few commercials here and there, so I figured give me a few decades and I'd be out. However the same family that I so loved and cherished ended up cursing me in the end. After the events of my early demise they had held a pretty large funeral, hailing me as the poster child for the dangers of brain injuries. They had started a movement, carrying on my legacy so that others were more equipped with knowledge so that they didn't commit my same mistakes. They even named a charity after me.
I was proud of their achievements, but soon grew to hate it, despise it. Here I am 15,000 years later being taught in college campuses and academics all across the galaxy, still reeling from my insufferable solitude, hoping for the day I die...cursed by the love and care by a few who refused to let my memories pass on.
Ironic, right? | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | 15,000 years. 15,000 mid-numbing years of waiting. It was exciting to Adam at first at first, the knowledge that life didn't just end with death, that he got to stick around and observe humanity. It suited him well, he'd always been a quiet fellow, and since he was just a ghost, no one gave him a hard time for being a wallflower anymore. He could just sit and people-watch and enjoy himself, and that's exactly what he did for a while.
The first 10 years were the best of his life or afterlife. No responsibilities, no bills, no obligations, no attachments, just traveling around the world and observing to his heart's content. All of his hobbies, bird-watching, fine art, reading rare books, he now actually had time to do. He saw sunrise on the rim of the Grand Canyon more times than he could count. He took afternoon siestas atop the Eiffel Tower whenever he wanted. It was exhilarating and it was perfect.
The next 90 years calmed down a bit, but were still wonderful. He got into a nice routine, checking in on people he knew, seeing and learning new things. It was all he ever wanted in life, just without the living part. He saw people come and go, first from life to ghosts like him, and then some time later from ghost to the great beyond. He felt pity for those poor souls who just got a few years of afterlife and then were forgotten.
The next 900 years were solid. 900 years of observing human progress, and he got to see all of it. At some point he started to wonder who exactly was still remembering him, but he wasn't exactly complaining. He saw new forms of art, music, writing. He accompanied the third Martian expedition and got to see a whole new planet! By the end of the millennium Adam reckoned he'd seen more of what humanity had accomplished than just about anyone. He felt like a god; people came and went, but Adam just was.
With each passing millennium things got a bit duller. The sun didn't shine quite the way it used to, it seemed. Humanity found new and terrible ways to kill each other. By his fifth millennium he was bored. By his tenth millennium he was depressed. By his fifteenth millennium, he was just exhausted. He was thankful for his extended time, but he just wanted to be finished, and try as he might, had no idea who still remembered him.
And then it happened: the Sun went supernova and extinguished all life on Earth. The good people of Mars died a few days later. With just almost all of humanity dying, most every ghost passed on as well. It was just Adam and a thousand other ghosts left, who realized that the last remaining crew of Humans were the crew of 6 who had left for Europa.
After realizing what happened, the ghosts formed an astral caravan and travelled to Europa. They all desperately wanted to keep the crew alive and Humanity with it, and Adam tagged along with them. He didn't say anything, but he knew if they died his ennui would finally be over. They got to Europa, and found the 6 of them, nearly freezing to death and on their last fuel cell. Then 2 of them died, and a cadre of ghosts vanished. Then another the next week, and another the week after, and the last vestiges of humanity were 2 humans, Adam, and a few hundred ghosts.
Those last two explorers gave each other a dejected look, and resignedly opened the cyanide capsule in their craft. There was a wail of grief among ghost kind, but there was nothing to be done. As they took the pill, Adam was at peace, finally ready to enter the Great Beyond. He closed his eyes and-
Nothing. The last two died, turned into ghosts, and then they and all other ghosts disappeared. It was just Adam stuck on a godforsaken rock. He collapsed in a heap of anguish, inconsolable and at a loss for why he was still here. Suddenly a portal of of light opened:
> Well this is odd, I swear we unit tested everything, you really shouldn't still be here.
Said what appeared to be a bespectacled angel, thumbing through a small console.
> Who are you! Why am I here! Just end my suffering, please.
Adam replied, in a mixture of confusion, despair, and rage.
> Oh wow, I see what happened, a good old self-referential pointer exception. Wouldn't have expected that in such a sociable species like you anthropodes!
The angel's gleeful excitement in discovery only made Adam more upset. He wanted answers and he wanted them now, so as slowly and deliberately as he could Adam asked:
> Humanity is dead. Why am I here? Who remembers me?
The angel looked up from his console and square at Adam and answered,
> Look, I don't know how to tell you this, we just never anticipated this edge case. See when people die, we create an index of all the people that remember them, and then add and remove from it as people forget/learn/die. Once that list is empty, poof, Great Beyond. We've just never encountered what happened with you. When you died, your list was empty, and so the compiler filled it with the only person who ever remembered you. You. | I always figured the afterlife would be someplace nice, something different from the constant trials and heartaches we experience during life, something like open fields with perfect weather where everyone sang and laughed through perfect bliss. But boy was I wrong.
In many ways this was hell, but different from what you'd expect. There were no fire and brimstone or evil lairs with guys in red panties and pitchforks ready to punish the evil doers...no it was much, much worse. Imagine absolute solitude for not only years, but decades, centuries, millennia; all whilst watching your loved ones come and ago, watching their offspring as they come into being, experiencing love, pain, heartache before eventually passing away. Imagine hundreds of years pass before that family you so loved and endeared where completely alien to you now, without the customs and quirks that made you family in the first place.
And that isn't even the worst part. I was fine with leaving it all behind, we all die someday right? I was fine with crossing over to the afterlife, hell, I was fine with no afterlife at all, willing to cease to exist as long as I knew that my family would be taken care of for the rest of their lives. But not this...anything but this. Meeting my guide, I learned that you're only conscious for as long as people remembered you. I figured that'd take awhile. I was a pretty accomplished athlete, nothing too famous but enough to hold a few commercials here and there, so I figured give me a few decades and I'd be out. However the same family that I so loved and cherished ended up cursing me in the end. After the events of my early demise they had held a pretty large funeral, hailing me as the poster child for the dangers of brain injuries. They had started a movement, carrying on my legacy so that others were more equipped with knowledge so that they didn't commit my same mistakes. They even named a charity after me.
I was proud of their achievements, but soon grew to hate it, despise it. Here I am 15,000 years later being taught in college campuses and academics all across the galaxy, still reeling from my insufferable solitude, hoping for the day I die...cursed by the love and care by a few who refused to let my memories pass on.
Ironic, right? | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | "Time...it is a curse, for I once thought it was the end but now, now I see there never is an end. I should never have done...it..." I whispered to myself as I sat and watched the sunset.
I went home, which was less of a home and more of an underground lair. 15,000 years allows for a lot of renovation to ones grave, and unlike the fairytales I don't just go through everything and I can touch things if I want.
My grand hall, the stone walls etched with countless hieroglyphs of my time, telling my story with each chipped stone. In the centre, my tome. The catalogue of all who could possibly remember me, which is to say, endless.
I was once a great man, but I messed up and for 15,000 years I have been paying the price. I know I shall never rest, perhaps I deserve it? Had I known my death wouldn't be complete until my memory died, I would never have become so publicly involved.
"One of the most influential and cruel men to have ever lived" I heard someone mutter above my tomb. "Some say he fled and still lives in hiding", this voice was beginning to annoy me. I still had a few tricks up my sleeve, and knew I could scare them away. Though 15,000 years worth of tricks became mundane and boring, and so I left it.
Instead I began to reflect on their words...evil... I have begged for forgiveness to almost every god there ever has been, but nobody answers my call.
I will never be forgotten, I will never truly die, because I am Adolf Hitler, and such a name will tarnish the books for eternity. All I can say is, I'm sorry. |
It feels like almost an eternity now. 15,000 years later, and I still can't believe this is the afterlife I've been promised. Was it all an illusion? Did I imagine my entire life? I don't know. It can't be. This might all be a test. All I know is, is that I need to move on.
I've been stuck in this form -I guess I could call it a form- ever since I died. I'm fed up from it and I want to move on. I still have subtle interactions with the world, so it's not that boring, but even that has its limits.
I can sometimes whisper to people, and I believe these whispers can influence them. Also, on rare occasions I can influence the physical world. I once pushed a chair, accidentally of course, I'm still unable to understand how that works.
What I do understand however, is that as long as I'm remembered by someone, I'll remain in this form. And I've been stuck here for 15,000 years.
I haven't even lived that long life. I was murdered at 33 by one of my closest friends, but I'm over that. I tried to live a good life, and only do good to people, and because of that I'm still remembered to this day.
But I need to move on, and I have an idea on how to do exactly that.
I've been talking to the people who believe in me. Who think that I was a good person. I've been influencing them to bad things, and hopefully that would indirectly make them forget me.
I'm not quite sure how else I could do it. If I mention my name they'll still remember it, and that's the opposite of what I'm trying to do.
I've done good in my life. At least I would like to think so. But now it's time for me to move on.
I had this idea for the last 14,000 years, and today is the day I've decided enough is enough.
It's time for me to do evil, and I have the perfect partner to do so. My mortal enemy Satan.
Isn't it ironic? That Jesus Christ, the messiah, the man who sacrificed himself for everyone's sins die from his close friend, and now has to work with his greatest enemy to live on?
| |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | It was 20th April. The short man stood at the memorial that was made in his honor on the same day, around 500 years ago. It was his birthday. Every year they resurrected his statue in his name on this day to remember his life. He did not bother keeping track of the date and which year it was, but he had seen enough to wish death upon himself.
But can the dead really die again?
It had all started with the girl. She had rejected him publicly and her kind ridiculed him for it. Her kind, the outsiders. He had always wished good things for his people and felt that his country was plundered by theses wretched ones. Everything he said in public created a frenzy of nationalistic pride that bordered on hysteria, which further propagated his belief that the outsiders were to be exterminated.
So he became the Führer and dealt a blow to their kind.
But the next few decades saw the rise of the outsiders in the free world and they controlled most of the economy. A small group of these 'Untermensch' had vowed to never forget him and take over the world as revenge, taking apart and undoing everything he had worked for.
Now, thousands of years later, he was regarded as the true Evil one. Just when he thought he could rest in peace forever, the small population that survived the 5 nuclear wars had come together and decided that he was the reason why Nuclear weapons had come into existence.
They erected a statue in Germany and desecrated it by any means possible. Every year on this day they came together and violated his effigy as some sort of a sick festival.
The only way he could console himself was that he brought humanity back together for a single cause albeit a cause he did not care for.
|
It feels like almost an eternity now. 15,000 years later, and I still can't believe this is the afterlife I've been promised. Was it all an illusion? Did I imagine my entire life? I don't know. It can't be. This might all be a test. All I know is, is that I need to move on.
I've been stuck in this form -I guess I could call it a form- ever since I died. I'm fed up from it and I want to move on. I still have subtle interactions with the world, so it's not that boring, but even that has its limits.
I can sometimes whisper to people, and I believe these whispers can influence them. Also, on rare occasions I can influence the physical world. I once pushed a chair, accidentally of course, I'm still unable to understand how that works.
What I do understand however, is that as long as I'm remembered by someone, I'll remain in this form. And I've been stuck here for 15,000 years.
I haven't even lived that long life. I was murdered at 33 by one of my closest friends, but I'm over that. I tried to live a good life, and only do good to people, and because of that I'm still remembered to this day.
But I need to move on, and I have an idea on how to do exactly that.
I've been talking to the people who believe in me. Who think that I was a good person. I've been influencing them to bad things, and hopefully that would indirectly make them forget me.
I'm not quite sure how else I could do it. If I mention my name they'll still remember it, and that's the opposite of what I'm trying to do.
I've done good in my life. At least I would like to think so. But now it's time for me to move on.
I had this idea for the last 14,000 years, and today is the day I've decided enough is enough.
It's time for me to do evil, and I have the perfect partner to do so. My mortal enemy Satan.
Isn't it ironic? That Jesus Christ, the messiah, the man who sacrificed himself for everyone's sins die from his close friend, and now has to work with his greatest enemy to live on?
| |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | I floated through the Himalayas seeking the Holy One. The last seer of the Temple of the Third Eye. The only being who could sense my presence and answer my eternal question.
Finally I saw the tiered roofs of a pagoda through the snowy mist. I had found the temple.
Free of a mortal body, I hastened through the ice and rocks, flying through ancient stone pillars and up winding stairs, until I reached the terrace where the Holy One meditated. His fragile naked body oblivious to the harsh winds that howled around his monastery.
I waited patiently as he contemplated eternity. It was almost a month before he finally acknowledged me.
"Your grace, I beseech you. Answer my one question" I pleaded. "Why is my spirit trapped on this mortal coil for all these millennia?"
The Holy One pondered long without answering.
"My time has long passed" I said. "Who still remembers me so deeply that their thoughts entwine me to this Earthly plane?"
It was a full week before the sage finally responded. His papery lips fluttered as he whispered to me.
"Listen closely Jesus, that middle eastern peace cult you started up fifteen thousand years ago has turned into the world's most dominant religion. Kids worship images of your grisly execution every damn day. No one is forgetting you in a hurry." |
It feels like almost an eternity now. 15,000 years later, and I still can't believe this is the afterlife I've been promised. Was it all an illusion? Did I imagine my entire life? I don't know. It can't be. This might all be a test. All I know is, is that I need to move on.
I've been stuck in this form -I guess I could call it a form- ever since I died. I'm fed up from it and I want to move on. I still have subtle interactions with the world, so it's not that boring, but even that has its limits.
I can sometimes whisper to people, and I believe these whispers can influence them. Also, on rare occasions I can influence the physical world. I once pushed a chair, accidentally of course, I'm still unable to understand how that works.
What I do understand however, is that as long as I'm remembered by someone, I'll remain in this form. And I've been stuck here for 15,000 years.
I haven't even lived that long life. I was murdered at 33 by one of my closest friends, but I'm over that. I tried to live a good life, and only do good to people, and because of that I'm still remembered to this day.
But I need to move on, and I have an idea on how to do exactly that.
I've been talking to the people who believe in me. Who think that I was a good person. I've been influencing them to bad things, and hopefully that would indirectly make them forget me.
I'm not quite sure how else I could do it. If I mention my name they'll still remember it, and that's the opposite of what I'm trying to do.
I've done good in my life. At least I would like to think so. But now it's time for me to move on.
I had this idea for the last 14,000 years, and today is the day I've decided enough is enough.
It's time for me to do evil, and I have the perfect partner to do so. My mortal enemy Satan.
Isn't it ironic? That Jesus Christ, the messiah, the man who sacrificed himself for everyone's sins die from his close friend, and now has to work with his greatest enemy to live on?
| |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | "Go!" I commanded as I held up my sword, mentally preparing for my demise to guarantee enough time for my queen to escape. Hoards of enemies appeared on the horizon and quickly charged down as the rest of us began our retreat.
"Captain..." I shook my head. They knew that no amount of words will turn me back from my decision. They knew how stubborn I am.
"Make sure she lives..." I gave my second-in-command a bittersweet grin and with that, he nodded and departed. I stood at the designated choke point, where enemies could only come in few. I muttered a short prayer before engaging in combat.
Like a lone wolf fighting hoards of endless enemies, I hope that my death would at least serve somewhat of a purpose. A heroic death.
-------
*The world...has greatly changed...since my death...*
*I've seen... the world transform... from villages... to small towns... to giant cities...*
*I've seen war... the endless cycle... of humanity... Oh how ironic it is... for us to fight... rather than... cooperate...*
*I still ponder... at my semi-existence... why am I still here?... Is this... what afterlife... looks like...?*
*I doubt it... There's no one... but me and others... living beings... who are completely... unaware of me...*
*Many things I can do... Defies natural laws... go through physical beings... float and watch... like a spectator watching... the beautiful world... slowly and finally... working together...*
-------
Fellow men, the Empire dates back to the one man who saved us all. His bravery. His courage. His noble sacrifice is what continue us to this day. Let us learn from him.
Yes sir!
---------
Alright children, gather around. Here's a story about a legendary swordsman who risks his life for the greater good.
Oh! I love that story. My grandfather tells me that one all the time. I love it!
Now now Jack, let's not spoil it for others.
-------
"Haven't you heard, man?" Joe said as he kept drinking, now completely wasted, "That infamous legend of the warrior that managed to keep his queen alive by sacrificing himself. I aspire to be like that for Maddie."
"Shhh... You have too much to drink tonight. You and your love for history. You wouldn't want to do that for that crazy ex of yours."
-------
*Ah... Maybe it's not that bad... I hope I get to see... how much humanity... progresses into... the better future.*
|
It feels like almost an eternity now. 15,000 years later, and I still can't believe this is the afterlife I've been promised. Was it all an illusion? Did I imagine my entire life? I don't know. It can't be. This might all be a test. All I know is, is that I need to move on.
I've been stuck in this form -I guess I could call it a form- ever since I died. I'm fed up from it and I want to move on. I still have subtle interactions with the world, so it's not that boring, but even that has its limits.
I can sometimes whisper to people, and I believe these whispers can influence them. Also, on rare occasions I can influence the physical world. I once pushed a chair, accidentally of course, I'm still unable to understand how that works.
What I do understand however, is that as long as I'm remembered by someone, I'll remain in this form. And I've been stuck here for 15,000 years.
I haven't even lived that long life. I was murdered at 33 by one of my closest friends, but I'm over that. I tried to live a good life, and only do good to people, and because of that I'm still remembered to this day.
But I need to move on, and I have an idea on how to do exactly that.
I've been talking to the people who believe in me. Who think that I was a good person. I've been influencing them to bad things, and hopefully that would indirectly make them forget me.
I'm not quite sure how else I could do it. If I mention my name they'll still remember it, and that's the opposite of what I'm trying to do.
I've done good in my life. At least I would like to think so. But now it's time for me to move on.
I had this idea for the last 14,000 years, and today is the day I've decided enough is enough.
It's time for me to do evil, and I have the perfect partner to do so. My mortal enemy Satan.
Isn't it ironic? That Jesus Christ, the messiah, the man who sacrificed himself for everyone's sins die from his close friend, and now has to work with his greatest enemy to live on?
| |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | "Well, this sucks, Bill."
"As I'm aware, for the millionth time" Bill sighed. For all Bill knew, Ted might actually be at the million mark now.
The two ghosts stared over the horizon as the sun set, golden rays washing over the peaceful Californian vineyard.
"Bill... Why..." Ted began to drawl, his eyes drooping with weariness.
"Look I told you, okay? It was an Accident. Acc-i-dent." Bill was visibly agitated, as well as a ghost can be.
"But.. it was just a container of mayonnaise?"
"Miracle whip, different stuff Ted"
Bill sighed again. No one could've expected that, in the horrific explosion of the Eureka Nuclear Power Plant, a single condiment jar would give everyone on the planet immortality. The setting sun, it would be back again. Like it has been for the past fifteen thousand years.
Before Bill could explain any more, the soft muffles of snoring forced his eyes off the horizon and onto his comrade. Ted was slouched over, drooling slightly.
"I really should've never put my name on it." Bill exclaimed out loud, but deep down he knew that he *hated* when anyone used his stuff. |
It feels like almost an eternity now. 15,000 years later, and I still can't believe this is the afterlife I've been promised. Was it all an illusion? Did I imagine my entire life? I don't know. It can't be. This might all be a test. All I know is, is that I need to move on.
I've been stuck in this form -I guess I could call it a form- ever since I died. I'm fed up from it and I want to move on. I still have subtle interactions with the world, so it's not that boring, but even that has its limits.
I can sometimes whisper to people, and I believe these whispers can influence them. Also, on rare occasions I can influence the physical world. I once pushed a chair, accidentally of course, I'm still unable to understand how that works.
What I do understand however, is that as long as I'm remembered by someone, I'll remain in this form. And I've been stuck here for 15,000 years.
I haven't even lived that long life. I was murdered at 33 by one of my closest friends, but I'm over that. I tried to live a good life, and only do good to people, and because of that I'm still remembered to this day.
But I need to move on, and I have an idea on how to do exactly that.
I've been talking to the people who believe in me. Who think that I was a good person. I've been influencing them to bad things, and hopefully that would indirectly make them forget me.
I'm not quite sure how else I could do it. If I mention my name they'll still remember it, and that's the opposite of what I'm trying to do.
I've done good in my life. At least I would like to think so. But now it's time for me to move on.
I had this idea for the last 14,000 years, and today is the day I've decided enough is enough.
It's time for me to do evil, and I have the perfect partner to do so. My mortal enemy Satan.
Isn't it ironic? That Jesus Christ, the messiah, the man who sacrificed himself for everyone's sins die from his close friend, and now has to work with his greatest enemy to live on?
| |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | Getting your bearings, that's the tricky part; the handle on what you're experiencing, and how you're experiencing it. Once you open your eyes, and learn how to move your arms, you'd be surprised how far you can reach.
Sometimes, the ones that have nearly overcome the trauma of their journey stir a little to my words. I don't really know if they understand my meaning, or even struggled to comprehend the meaning behind my harsh noises. The real trouble was, none of them stuck around long enough to have the time to really open their eyes. A meager handful of centuries at best, before the gossamer strands of memory binding them together turned, inexorably, to dust.
I once knew a certain man, and more importantly, this man knows me. He never had wealth or fame, and honestly I can't recall even his name. The placing of terminally ill persons into a manner of stasis wasn't exactly a new idea, you see, but the hurdle of being able to reverse the process was overcome by some brilliant young mind whom I thank dearly.
And so it came to pass, after how long I cannot reckon, that I opened my eyes. Later still I would explore the breadth of my grasp, and find it tremendous. I set my will to ensuring that the man who knew me remained undisturbed. So long as the stars burned, they would fuel the machines that preserved a certain, unremarkable human.
It took only a few decades of influence. Sharing portions of my vision with those living bright enough to put it into action, as well as enticing ideas for possible wealth in investors took care of the rest. A group of some few hundred in stasis, including the man who remembered me, were transported to a bunker, miles deep and attended autonomously. The supplies in reserve would keep several hundred humans in stasis for over ten thousand years. Fortunately, the fortress was only ever designed to keep one person safe.
The armed revolt, which conveniently killed everyone with any knowledge the bunker's location, took less than five years to bloom.
Even now, mankind struggles to make the leap of harassing a significant portion of the sun's output. It will be enough for a few billion years, but that will do for now. |
It feels like almost an eternity now. 15,000 years later, and I still can't believe this is the afterlife I've been promised. Was it all an illusion? Did I imagine my entire life? I don't know. It can't be. This might all be a test. All I know is, is that I need to move on.
I've been stuck in this form -I guess I could call it a form- ever since I died. I'm fed up from it and I want to move on. I still have subtle interactions with the world, so it's not that boring, but even that has its limits.
I can sometimes whisper to people, and I believe these whispers can influence them. Also, on rare occasions I can influence the physical world. I once pushed a chair, accidentally of course, I'm still unable to understand how that works.
What I do understand however, is that as long as I'm remembered by someone, I'll remain in this form. And I've been stuck here for 15,000 years.
I haven't even lived that long life. I was murdered at 33 by one of my closest friends, but I'm over that. I tried to live a good life, and only do good to people, and because of that I'm still remembered to this day.
But I need to move on, and I have an idea on how to do exactly that.
I've been talking to the people who believe in me. Who think that I was a good person. I've been influencing them to bad things, and hopefully that would indirectly make them forget me.
I'm not quite sure how else I could do it. If I mention my name they'll still remember it, and that's the opposite of what I'm trying to do.
I've done good in my life. At least I would like to think so. But now it's time for me to move on.
I had this idea for the last 14,000 years, and today is the day I've decided enough is enough.
It's time for me to do evil, and I have the perfect partner to do so. My mortal enemy Satan.
Isn't it ironic? That Jesus Christ, the messiah, the man who sacrificed himself for everyone's sins die from his close friend, and now has to work with his greatest enemy to live on?
| |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | **Dedication to Jim Morrison**
"I died on the sands of Singapore."
Melchiades had said
As he faded into darkness
With his only friend.
He lives, now, in crystal palaces
Where buildings shine like mirrors
Reflecting sunlight.
His words ride like violent storms
Across the open range.
They burn like mercury
In the old black crucible
You have found immortality my friend.
Enjoy it.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
NOTE: This was a very old poem I've written during a weird time where I had a little bit of an obsession with 100 Years of Solitude and The Doors (The 60s in general). When I read the prompt I thought about this poem. Whether its good or not I have no idea. At the time of writing the poem I wrote about 200 or so others, Some okay. Others not so much. |
It feels like almost an eternity now. 15,000 years later, and I still can't believe this is the afterlife I've been promised. Was it all an illusion? Did I imagine my entire life? I don't know. It can't be. This might all be a test. All I know is, is that I need to move on.
I've been stuck in this form -I guess I could call it a form- ever since I died. I'm fed up from it and I want to move on. I still have subtle interactions with the world, so it's not that boring, but even that has its limits.
I can sometimes whisper to people, and I believe these whispers can influence them. Also, on rare occasions I can influence the physical world. I once pushed a chair, accidentally of course, I'm still unable to understand how that works.
What I do understand however, is that as long as I'm remembered by someone, I'll remain in this form. And I've been stuck here for 15,000 years.
I haven't even lived that long life. I was murdered at 33 by one of my closest friends, but I'm over that. I tried to live a good life, and only do good to people, and because of that I'm still remembered to this day.
But I need to move on, and I have an idea on how to do exactly that.
I've been talking to the people who believe in me. Who think that I was a good person. I've been influencing them to bad things, and hopefully that would indirectly make them forget me.
I'm not quite sure how else I could do it. If I mention my name they'll still remember it, and that's the opposite of what I'm trying to do.
I've done good in my life. At least I would like to think so. But now it's time for me to move on.
I had this idea for the last 14,000 years, and today is the day I've decided enough is enough.
It's time for me to do evil, and I have the perfect partner to do so. My mortal enemy Satan.
Isn't it ironic? That Jesus Christ, the messiah, the man who sacrificed himself for everyone's sins die from his close friend, and now has to work with his greatest enemy to live on?
| |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | I have been on this planet for the last 15k years. They say that the soul transfers to the next dimension when you are the forgotten past. Every year the portal closes on me on the same day, January 1. The one day I look forward to seeing. But these mortals refuse to forget me. I have seen progress, when I was alive, I used to roam around in a bullock cart and now I see the people of this generation teleport. It is highly ironic that when I was alive, the only thing I wanted was to become immortal, rich and a legend that nobody forgets.
But that has come to bite me in my ass. Death has simplified things, all my friends have passed away to the next dimension but I am still here, because of that one man I save all those years ago when I was barely twenty years old. I was going home, walking on the road, unlike the kids of this generation who just teleport where ever they want, our generation had to actually walk. In a dark corner, I saw a man. I thought he was an addict which is why I did not look at him and kept walking ahead. But he called me, "Excuse me."
I pretended to not hear him and quickened my pace.
But I heard him wail, again. "Excuse me, I think I am having a stroke. Do you have water?"
My entire outlook changed when I saw death standing in front me me in his form, I thought of my parents, friends and saw them in the wailing man. I ran to my home to fetch some water, luckily enough, I lived at a stone's throw distance from the man. I got him water and he sat down. It turned out that he had diabetes and he was not having a heart attack.
He asked me to stay with him until his family arrived, and they did, in an Audi A7. I had never seen an Audi this closely in life, it turned out that he was a big politician who was strolling and not a drug addict.
Politicians in India have a big following among the working class and this man said he saw God in me and that was the day he started spreading the rumour that I was the last avatar of Lord kalki and because he was a famous politician, these stupid people started praying to me and overnight I became a godman despite the fact that I did not want anything to do with him. He gave me his Audi as a gift for saving his life and even though I refused, he parked it in front of my home and hung the key in my door.
His followers formed a huge line for touching my feet for the better part of the year and I had to ask him to tell them to stop. I started another rumour and they did stop. But they did not stop praying about me and thinking about me. One lunatic god fearing follower of the politician built a temple in my name and there is an actual priest who sits there, it is apparently a big business.
When I was on my deathbed, I hoped that it would die with me, but after my death, the myth of my power (I did not have any) just grew exponentially, some claimed to see me fly, some said I teleported and what not and 1k years later I became an actual God. They prayed to Lord Ganesh and me at the same time. 15k years later, they wrote books about my mythical superpowers and some even claimed that I was the Godhead.
There is no hope left for me now to be released from this world, I am doomed to stay here, as a spirit, powerless to do anything at all.
All this for saving a life. |
It feels like almost an eternity now. 15,000 years later, and I still can't believe this is the afterlife I've been promised. Was it all an illusion? Did I imagine my entire life? I don't know. It can't be. This might all be a test. All I know is, is that I need to move on.
I've been stuck in this form -I guess I could call it a form- ever since I died. I'm fed up from it and I want to move on. I still have subtle interactions with the world, so it's not that boring, but even that has its limits.
I can sometimes whisper to people, and I believe these whispers can influence them. Also, on rare occasions I can influence the physical world. I once pushed a chair, accidentally of course, I'm still unable to understand how that works.
What I do understand however, is that as long as I'm remembered by someone, I'll remain in this form. And I've been stuck here for 15,000 years.
I haven't even lived that long life. I was murdered at 33 by one of my closest friends, but I'm over that. I tried to live a good life, and only do good to people, and because of that I'm still remembered to this day.
But I need to move on, and I have an idea on how to do exactly that.
I've been talking to the people who believe in me. Who think that I was a good person. I've been influencing them to bad things, and hopefully that would indirectly make them forget me.
I'm not quite sure how else I could do it. If I mention my name they'll still remember it, and that's the opposite of what I'm trying to do.
I've done good in my life. At least I would like to think so. But now it's time for me to move on.
I had this idea for the last 14,000 years, and today is the day I've decided enough is enough.
It's time for me to do evil, and I have the perfect partner to do so. My mortal enemy Satan.
Isn't it ironic? That Jesus Christ, the messiah, the man who sacrificed himself for everyone's sins die from his close friend, and now has to work with his greatest enemy to live on?
| |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | "Well then."
Being informed that you are still remembered 15,000 years after your death should seem pretty awesome. I guess it was, after a fashion.
"I just wish it had been for something other than eating that Golden Corral into bankruptcy." I sighed. |
It feels like almost an eternity now. 15,000 years later, and I still can't believe this is the afterlife I've been promised. Was it all an illusion? Did I imagine my entire life? I don't know. It can't be. This might all be a test. All I know is, is that I need to move on.
I've been stuck in this form -I guess I could call it a form- ever since I died. I'm fed up from it and I want to move on. I still have subtle interactions with the world, so it's not that boring, but even that has its limits.
I can sometimes whisper to people, and I believe these whispers can influence them. Also, on rare occasions I can influence the physical world. I once pushed a chair, accidentally of course, I'm still unable to understand how that works.
What I do understand however, is that as long as I'm remembered by someone, I'll remain in this form. And I've been stuck here for 15,000 years.
I haven't even lived that long life. I was murdered at 33 by one of my closest friends, but I'm over that. I tried to live a good life, and only do good to people, and because of that I'm still remembered to this day.
But I need to move on, and I have an idea on how to do exactly that.
I've been talking to the people who believe in me. Who think that I was a good person. I've been influencing them to bad things, and hopefully that would indirectly make them forget me.
I'm not quite sure how else I could do it. If I mention my name they'll still remember it, and that's the opposite of what I'm trying to do.
I've done good in my life. At least I would like to think so. But now it's time for me to move on.
I had this idea for the last 14,000 years, and today is the day I've decided enough is enough.
It's time for me to do evil, and I have the perfect partner to do so. My mortal enemy Satan.
Isn't it ironic? That Jesus Christ, the messiah, the man who sacrificed himself for everyone's sins die from his close friend, and now has to work with his greatest enemy to live on?
| |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | Anna’s Ghost
***
“Anna, can you hear me?” I asked.
“What?” my only daughter answered drearily. She was slumped over her dining table. Her eyes were red. It was late. She had been crying.
“Anna, it’s me,” I said. I put all my strength into being heard. Into existing.
“Oh my goodness, dad?” Suddenly, Anna was alert. She stood up and began to pace back and forth. “No! There’s no way that’s you. Gosh, I must be going crazy!”
“Anna, you’re not crazy! Listen to me!”
Anna shook her head. “No, I can’t entertain delusions! You’re not real! I’m just hallucinating because it’s one year since you died. My boss said I should see a psychiatrist after I had the breakdown. I didn’t listen.”
I didn’t want to see Anna like this. I wanted her to smile again. She hadn’t smiled once since I died.
“Anna… It doesn’t matter if you think I’m real or not. I just want to tell you something. I’ve seen you hurting. I know you feel like you failed, and-”
“I did fail, dad! After mum died, I spent my life trying to save you! And I failed!”
“Anna, I know what failure feels like. Believe me, I’ve had my fair share. But I’ve seen you grow, and you have been my proudest achievement. It hurts to see you go through this. You have mourned, and it is time to move on and finish your work.”
I must have struck a chord, because Anna paused and sat down again. “My work…” she muttered.
Anna was the smartest person I’d ever known, and that’s not just my pride as a father speaking. She was very young when her mother died, and I suppose she never accepted it. She became a biotechnical researcher, and she spent her life working on unlocking human immortality. Her research was her passion at the expense of all else. To her, my death was more than the loss of a loved one. It was the failure of her life’s work.
“Anna, listen,” I began. “There are so many more people out there who need you now. Just before I died, you told me you were so close to a breakthrough. You told me to hang on. I was in awe, you know? In awe at what an amazing person you’d become.” I chuckled at the memory. I don’t know if Anna could hear my chuckle, but a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and my heart soared. “Please, do this for me. You always seemed happiest when you were at work. I want to see that again.”
I stayed with Anna that night, and we talked until the sun rose.
The next day, she applied to return to her old position on the research team. They had been utterly lost without her, and they accepted her immediately.
***
Within a decade, human immortality was viable, and Anna became the world’s most famous scientist. She was never accustomed to the spotlight, and I think she found it more daunting than anything she had faced in her work. Her auburn hair turned a silvery grey.
In the meantime, I met other ghosts. From their experience, they explained that ghosts remained on Earth for as long as they were remembered. Very few ghosts were able to make themselves heard. I was one of the lucky ones. A few of the ghosts were social, but most kept to themselves. It didn’t matter much to me. I had been social in life, but in death I felt comfort in isolation.
I even met Anna’s mother again. She was happy, albeit apprehensive, to see me. All the problems we’d experienced in life felt like a bad dream. We spoke for a great length, and then enjoyed each other’s company in silence.
***
Anna had wanted to die. With no living family, and no close friends, she felt that she had given her gift to humanity and was ready to leave.
“When I die, I’ll be with my parents,” she told the media. Her wishes were met with great protest. A mind like hers shouldn’t die, the media said. I was inclined to agree, but Anna would have none of it. She had made peace with her end. She said she wanted to join me and her mother on the other side.
It was the strangest thing that convinced her to live. I had told her that ghosts disappear when they are forgotten. Anna asked me what happens to ghosts after they disappear, but I had no idea. Anna was the one who pieced it together.
“So, after I die, who will be alive to remember you and mum? Eventually, you’ll disappear. But I won’t join you. I’ll never disappear, because everyone alive knows my name and, thanks to me, they’ll never die.”
That was the reason for her choice, and it showed how much she truly loved her mother and me. The truth was that, even though I had wanted Anna to live forever, I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do. Maybe that’s just me and my old fashioned ways.
I stayed by her side for thousands of years.
***
Humanity spread across the universe. My dearest Anna was appointed as a scientific advisor to the Federation of the Milky Way, the most densely populated and economically active human federation in the universe.
Every few decades, Anna set aside a year to spend time with me and her mother. Humanity’s languages had long since evolved into forms we could not understand, but Anna spoke to us in the version of English we had used when I was alive. It was a simple gesture, so that I did not have to trouble myself learning new dialects every few centuries, but I always felt touched.
Unfortunately, this did not last forever.
Fifteen thousand years after my death, Anna told me that the hardware in her brain had long ago reached the physical limits of the universe, and it was it now packed to its capacity. Any information she wished to gain, she had to erase something else from her mind.
“There’s a lot of processing power in my mind,” she told me. “I’ve been using it to make sense of the crazy amount of policies that the government implements for the Galaxy. Most people have regular memory clean-ups every decade. I need to forget, or my mind is going to stagnate.”
“What are you saying?” I asked, but I knew. My mind was like a termite compared to hers, but I could understand enough. She needed to erase memories that were least relevant to her current life – the memories of her life fifteen thousand years ago. Her mother and I would disappear.
Eventually, I spoke. “Anna, I’m so proud of all the good you’ve done for humanity, and everything you’ve created. It’s more than what I ever thought was humanly possible. If this is going to be a goodbye, then I’m happy for the fifteen thousand years we’ve shared.”
Anna was silent.
***
Eventually, my last day came.
Anna organised her memory clean-up. It was going to be precise. Her mind would be in peak condition afterwards. The androids who perform such procedures sensed her apprehension, and they gave her words of comfort. She didn’t say anything in response.
Just as the procedure was about to begin, Anna signalled for the androids to stop.
The androids seemed puzzled, and they asked her something in their foreign syntax. I had no idea what their question was, but Anna responded in a version of English I understood.
“No.”
***
Epilogue:
Human self-terminations were rare, but they were known to happen.
Anna’s last wish was that her self-termination was not to be publicised. She requested that all records of her existence be removed from the public archives. All her work and achievements, spanning fifteen millennia of scientific and political progress, were to be reattributed to Anna’s colleague, who was happy to take the credit.
After Anna’s death, she remained as a ghost, sustained by the memories of the people who knew her personally. As centuries passed, the memories of those people were cleaned up and overwritten. Eventually, Anna faded.
Her last hope as a ghost was that she would see her parents again on the other side, if one existed. |
It feels like almost an eternity now. 15,000 years later, and I still can't believe this is the afterlife I've been promised. Was it all an illusion? Did I imagine my entire life? I don't know. It can't be. This might all be a test. All I know is, is that I need to move on.
I've been stuck in this form -I guess I could call it a form- ever since I died. I'm fed up from it and I want to move on. I still have subtle interactions with the world, so it's not that boring, but even that has its limits.
I can sometimes whisper to people, and I believe these whispers can influence them. Also, on rare occasions I can influence the physical world. I once pushed a chair, accidentally of course, I'm still unable to understand how that works.
What I do understand however, is that as long as I'm remembered by someone, I'll remain in this form. And I've been stuck here for 15,000 years.
I haven't even lived that long life. I was murdered at 33 by one of my closest friends, but I'm over that. I tried to live a good life, and only do good to people, and because of that I'm still remembered to this day.
But I need to move on, and I have an idea on how to do exactly that.
I've been talking to the people who believe in me. Who think that I was a good person. I've been influencing them to bad things, and hopefully that would indirectly make them forget me.
I'm not quite sure how else I could do it. If I mention my name they'll still remember it, and that's the opposite of what I'm trying to do.
I've done good in my life. At least I would like to think so. But now it's time for me to move on.
I had this idea for the last 14,000 years, and today is the day I've decided enough is enough.
It's time for me to do evil, and I have the perfect partner to do so. My mortal enemy Satan.
Isn't it ironic? That Jesus Christ, the messiah, the man who sacrificed himself for everyone's sins die from his close friend, and now has to work with his greatest enemy to live on?
| |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | Before I was a ghost, I was a miraculous gentleman of great gravitas, a real stand outer. A thunderbolt incarnate that shocked and electrified every sap that I met. I could be put in the same room with any person, man or woman, and they would be proposing engagement in 5 minutes. I even had to cut off this one guy from ordering a wedding elephant. He was a funny bastard, I think his name was Frank, from Montana, working in power plant demolition. Anyways, long story short, I got power hungry and I sort of went all dictatorship and I won the highest body count medal, a religion popped up, and now I'm the Satan of it, well I'm not actually Lucifer, my name is You. Err no, wouldn't that be a great twist, something sort of grandiose and profoundish, but not really, my real name is Hal Holman. I blew up the moon, for my birthday, and the astroid belt that took it's place is called the Hal Holman Astroid Belt, I named it and it sort of stuck. |
It feels like almost an eternity now. 15,000 years later, and I still can't believe this is the afterlife I've been promised. Was it all an illusion? Did I imagine my entire life? I don't know. It can't be. This might all be a test. All I know is, is that I need to move on.
I've been stuck in this form -I guess I could call it a form- ever since I died. I'm fed up from it and I want to move on. I still have subtle interactions with the world, so it's not that boring, but even that has its limits.
I can sometimes whisper to people, and I believe these whispers can influence them. Also, on rare occasions I can influence the physical world. I once pushed a chair, accidentally of course, I'm still unable to understand how that works.
What I do understand however, is that as long as I'm remembered by someone, I'll remain in this form. And I've been stuck here for 15,000 years.
I haven't even lived that long life. I was murdered at 33 by one of my closest friends, but I'm over that. I tried to live a good life, and only do good to people, and because of that I'm still remembered to this day.
But I need to move on, and I have an idea on how to do exactly that.
I've been talking to the people who believe in me. Who think that I was a good person. I've been influencing them to bad things, and hopefully that would indirectly make them forget me.
I'm not quite sure how else I could do it. If I mention my name they'll still remember it, and that's the opposite of what I'm trying to do.
I've done good in my life. At least I would like to think so. But now it's time for me to move on.
I had this idea for the last 14,000 years, and today is the day I've decided enough is enough.
It's time for me to do evil, and I have the perfect partner to do so. My mortal enemy Satan.
Isn't it ironic? That Jesus Christ, the messiah, the man who sacrificed himself for everyone's sins die from his close friend, and now has to work with his greatest enemy to live on?
| |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | For every one, sixteen.
They say you learn by doing, ‘find things out the hard way’ and ultimately learn from your mistakes.
I’ve had a while to really learn from my own.
Throughout the time I spent amongst the living I was a scientist. I had wanted to do the world, no... that would be too megalomaniacal... I wanted to provide for those I loved. It just so happens that the world ended up being involved. The issue was that what I came up with was something so unbelievable that it threw me from just doing my job, making money for those I loved, to changing the world. I won’t lie. I was a scientist. Of course I wanted to change the world. But really, I wanted more than nothing else to make sure that I could provide.
My mother wasn’t exactly the most healthy of people and yet she raised me the way she did. My father was a presence in my childhood, however the nature of the world meant that he spent most of his time well away from his son. A son that needed attention, truth be told. Guidance, perhaps? I really can’t even say what it would be anymore. All I know is that I had a father but may as well have grown up without one.
This is the way of things when you are young and the world is at war though. At any moment it would appear that the world can collapse around you and as such, you find solace in your own interests. Those interests blossom as a result of being left alone. Interference in my disposition towards the marvellous was kept to a minimum and throughout my childhood I became something of a prodigy. I suppose that’s one way of putting it, at least. Truth be told what kind of prodigy causes what I did, what kind of prodigy has these insecurities that last, even now? Prodigy. What a dull and insignificant word.
There is something to be said about solitude though. It lends itself remarkably well to reflection and contemplation upon ones life, whether that be the actions that one took during its course or the ramifications of an existence. An existence such as mine. I have the time now, to truly contemplate upon the things that I did and what lead me to cause them. The reason I have this time? The rule. For every one, sixteen.
Such a peculiar number is sixteen.There’s nothing truly remarkable about it. It isn’t a prime. It comes so close to being one, seventeen just a plus one away, but it isn’t. Really, sixteen just exists. It’s there. Nothing much to it. Sixteen, however, happens to have become the most important number in what I can suggest is an existence. At least as far as I am concerned. Let it be said that I am nothing if not inherently selfish. Loneliness will do that, especially after such a long time.
For every one, sixteen.
Of course, all of this sounds incredibly morose. It isn’t necessarily that bad. I have been there throughout history. Mankind is such an interesting concept... I call it a concept these days, peculiar. I have watched the rise and fall of nations, geography and all manner of things. In a twisted sense of the word I might be considered lucky, to have witnessed humanity reach the stars, to colonise Mars... to begin to actualise what it as a species was capable of.
Twisted.
For all of their feats there was one thing that humanity never stopped doing. A force of habit, ingrained in their very biology. No science will back me up on this of course, this idea of mine is more of a philosophy rather than a truth. That said, I feel like I have had enough time to deduce the accuracy of such a certain statement.
Humanity provides the gift of its own attainment and destruction unto itself.
I feel my mind beginning to go. It’s incredibly surprising that it has taken this long, and yet slowly I feel it, the tendrils of madness doing their best to latch upon my consciousness and drag me away. I cannot lie, it is not my strength of will or anything along those lines that allows me to retain my sanity... allows me to give you this account. It is the memory.
At the moment of my recounting these thoughts to you I have been alive for just shy of a million years. My name is actually forgotten but that which I was involved in has not been, for that single project shaped the world into the twisted mess of decay it now is. It might have taken some time, but humanity eventually reached that point. Even if they didn’t, it wouldn’t have mattered to me. My involvement was enough.
For every one, sixteen.
I remember, somehow, being young. I ran through the fields of wheat without a care in the world, I didn’t begin to resent my Father until I was a little older, I withdrew into academia... I was involved in what would eventually end the world.
I feel my penance is justified. I will always be remembered, because I was involved in that which led to the barren landscape and the attempt at humanity I now bear witness to. It’s justified because I was involved. It’s justified because if I hadn’t have turned into the man I became, perhaps the chain of events that lead to all of this might never have happened.
I accept my penance, nonetheless. It’s only fair that you have a hand in the deaths of one hundred and twenty nine thousand people and receive punishment.
For every one, sixteen.
_____________
This is my first attempt at publicly responding to a prompt.
Hope you enjoyed this, if you have anything to say about it then I'd really appreciate the input.
|
It feels like almost an eternity now. 15,000 years later, and I still can't believe this is the afterlife I've been promised. Was it all an illusion? Did I imagine my entire life? I don't know. It can't be. This might all be a test. All I know is, is that I need to move on.
I've been stuck in this form -I guess I could call it a form- ever since I died. I'm fed up from it and I want to move on. I still have subtle interactions with the world, so it's not that boring, but even that has its limits.
I can sometimes whisper to people, and I believe these whispers can influence them. Also, on rare occasions I can influence the physical world. I once pushed a chair, accidentally of course, I'm still unable to understand how that works.
What I do understand however, is that as long as I'm remembered by someone, I'll remain in this form. And I've been stuck here for 15,000 years.
I haven't even lived that long life. I was murdered at 33 by one of my closest friends, but I'm over that. I tried to live a good life, and only do good to people, and because of that I'm still remembered to this day.
But I need to move on, and I have an idea on how to do exactly that.
I've been talking to the people who believe in me. Who think that I was a good person. I've been influencing them to bad things, and hopefully that would indirectly make them forget me.
I'm not quite sure how else I could do it. If I mention my name they'll still remember it, and that's the opposite of what I'm trying to do.
I've done good in my life. At least I would like to think so. But now it's time for me to move on.
I had this idea for the last 14,000 years, and today is the day I've decided enough is enough.
It's time for me to do evil, and I have the perfect partner to do so. My mortal enemy Satan.
Isn't it ironic? That Jesus Christ, the messiah, the man who sacrificed himself for everyone's sins die from his close friend, and now has to work with his greatest enemy to live on?
| |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | "This way." Leonard was clearly distraught to see me point down the spookier of the two corridors. I sighed. "For the hundredth time, I promise you that nothing down here will kill you."
Leonard looked back and forth hesitantly between me and the corridor, white-knuckling his bolter like it was a security blanket.
"Come on, it's just another minute or so, and it'll all be over. Then you'll get everything I promised you: the account numbers, the exabytes of blackmail material, all the vault locations... everything."
It was quite the treasure trove I had amassed over the years -- centuries upon centuries of payouts from dealing in information gleaned from private conversations in board rooms and war rooms alike. It took me an embarrassingly long time to understand how far beyond my own ability my problem was to solve, that I had to make it in others' best interests to help me. And nothing -- not sympathy, not duty; nothing -- motivates people like money and power. I had lost count of all the dynasties I had made, and as well those I'd brought to ruin when they disobeyed.
Truth be told, I had grown sick of the king-making business not long after I had started, and millennium after millennium, I looked forward to the day it would all be behind me. And as to who would inherit it all, well, I frankly didn't give a shit. Might as well be Leonard.
But Leonard was getting cold feet again. His terror-sticken stare reminded me of a cow, and I lamented that I couldn't tell him how much he looked like one because he of course had no clue what a cow was, as they'd gone extinct several thousands of years before Leonard was born. That might have been my fault. I don't even remember.
The problem with Leonard, I think, was that the sheer _mediocrity_ of everything about him meant that he couldn't fathom the magnitude of the wealth I was offering him, so to him it was simply unreal. I laughed at first when I saw that it was some newly hired maintenance worker who had lucked into an all-access pass to the whole of this subterranean kingdom courtesy of a software bug, but it turned out that getting him off his ass was maddening. It felt degrading to have to combine the usual promise of riches with a more... personal effort.
I stepped directly up to him, glaring into his eyes from inches away. "Leonard," I demanded. "This is how you end it. You turn back now, I will not let you sleep _a fucking wink_. I will drown out the voices of your family with my screams. I will dismantle your will to live, if you don't walk down that fucking hallway. There is nothing down here to be afraid of but _me_. Do you understand? Now get moving."
Leonard wimpered, but obliged.
To be fair, this place was essentially an industrial crypt. Even the slums ended hundreds of floors up. I was honestly pretty surprised to see how many of the elevators still worked despite the inconsistent coverage for the lighting and air filtration systems. Some damned fine 152nd Century engineering, right there.
"S-so where are we now?" Leonard was skimming his flashlight over the rusted sculture of a company logo.
"These are the last offices of Express Lunar Imports, which went out of business..." I paused to do a bit of mental math "...about 140 years ago. They were the last company to buy into a contract with QuikClean Cleaning Solutions, which was the last company to upgrade their droids from..." I clenched my teeth. "From Tier 7 AI."
We walked down the rest of the hallway and turned the corner in silence.
The inevitable question was coming.
"You've mentioned that before, I think," started Leonard. "Tier 7 AI tech. I mean, that's ancient history. What's-- I mean, if you don't mind me asking..."
I looked at Leonard expectantly.
"Do you have some kind of problem, or something? With Tier 7 AI?"
I swallowed. Funny how lacking a body still permitted me to do that, if only as a social cue, out of habit.
We came to the door to the reception area for the executive offices. I pointed to the badge scanner. Despite the lack of power the surrounding darkness suggested, the scanner's red LED shined strongly. They were on a different circuit, still leeching nigh-undetectable amounts of power from the grid all the way up on surface.
Leonard scanned his badge. After one of Leonard's practically-audible heartbeats, the scanner's light turned green, and we entered the reception area.
"Tier 8 was the first fundamental move away from a neurological design. They rebuilt the basis for Tier 8 from scratch. Before then, it was all just layering updates and improvements onto what was, deep down, fundamentally still Tier 1. And do you know how they developed Tier 1 AI?"
"Well, no. How?"
"It was the commercialized, commodified result of what was cutting-edge research at the time: research into artificially reproducing a human brain."
I led Leonard past the reception desk and into the short corridor of grandiose double-doors beyond, labeled with names and varying executive titles in a script now long-forgotten.
"But building it up from scratch was still too difficult, back then," I explained. "So they cheated. Rather than recreate a brain, they _copied_ one from a corpse, from someone who had died and donated his body to science." Leonard was confused about my choice of words. I smirked. "We didn't always have reclamation centers, y'know. When we died, we could choose to be used for research, but most of us chose to decompose, instead." Leonard was visibly disgusted at the thought. How the times change.
"The first successful trial, _apparently_, came from reconstructing the brain of none other than my own deceased brother. Which was an honor in many ways, I suppose. But as we knew quite a lot less about the brain, they didn't do as thorough a job of lobotomizing it of its memories and personality as they would have liked. Or maybe they tried, but weren't precise enough to finish the job without rendering the artificial brain inoperable."
I pointed to the badge scanner at the door to the Vice President's office. Leonard scanned his badge.
"And since they wanted to be the first to market, they minted what they had as the standard to be mass-manufactured, bits of my brother and all. It flew completely under the radar. And the era of AI blossomed out of that."
We entered the Vice President's office, and Leonard marveled at how clean and orderly it was compared to the dust- and debris-filled hallways we had journeyed through. With a quick scan around the office, I found what I was looking for immediately: a cleaning droid slumped in the corner of the room in its recharging station. Found you at last, you elusive bastard.
"Since it never impacted their sales, they never finished scrubbing out those barest remnants of my brother. I found out the hard way when I bought one and it exhibited some... deeply unsettling behavior. That one, and every AI Tier since, right up through 7. And they decided it was easier to just pay me off and ask me to stay away from the things instead of fixing that one little quirk."
Leonard looked on nervously. "S-so what did you want me to do?"
The cleaning droid finished booting. Its eyes lit up and it raised its head to look at us, and began to announce,
_< PLEASE REFILL SOAP DISP-- >_
I knew what was coming. Just like the hundreds of thousands of similar models I had tracked down one-by-one, it turned to me, cocked its head to the side, and asked in a language I hadn't heard a human speak in over fourteen thousand years:
_< JACK, IS THAT YOU? >_
I turned to Leonard.
"I need _you_ to shoot _that_ in its fucking head." |
It feels like almost an eternity now. 15,000 years later, and I still can't believe this is the afterlife I've been promised. Was it all an illusion? Did I imagine my entire life? I don't know. It can't be. This might all be a test. All I know is, is that I need to move on.
I've been stuck in this form -I guess I could call it a form- ever since I died. I'm fed up from it and I want to move on. I still have subtle interactions with the world, so it's not that boring, but even that has its limits.
I can sometimes whisper to people, and I believe these whispers can influence them. Also, on rare occasions I can influence the physical world. I once pushed a chair, accidentally of course, I'm still unable to understand how that works.
What I do understand however, is that as long as I'm remembered by someone, I'll remain in this form. And I've been stuck here for 15,000 years.
I haven't even lived that long life. I was murdered at 33 by one of my closest friends, but I'm over that. I tried to live a good life, and only do good to people, and because of that I'm still remembered to this day.
But I need to move on, and I have an idea on how to do exactly that.
I've been talking to the people who believe in me. Who think that I was a good person. I've been influencing them to bad things, and hopefully that would indirectly make them forget me.
I'm not quite sure how else I could do it. If I mention my name they'll still remember it, and that's the opposite of what I'm trying to do.
I've done good in my life. At least I would like to think so. But now it's time for me to move on.
I had this idea for the last 14,000 years, and today is the day I've decided enough is enough.
It's time for me to do evil, and I have the perfect partner to do so. My mortal enemy Satan.
Isn't it ironic? That Jesus Christ, the messiah, the man who sacrificed himself for everyone's sins die from his close friend, and now has to work with his greatest enemy to live on?
| |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | 15,000 years. 15,000 mid-numbing years of waiting. It was exciting to Adam at first at first, the knowledge that life didn't just end with death, that he got to stick around and observe humanity. It suited him well, he'd always been a quiet fellow, and since he was just a ghost, no one gave him a hard time for being a wallflower anymore. He could just sit and people-watch and enjoy himself, and that's exactly what he did for a while.
The first 10 years were the best of his life or afterlife. No responsibilities, no bills, no obligations, no attachments, just traveling around the world and observing to his heart's content. All of his hobbies, bird-watching, fine art, reading rare books, he now actually had time to do. He saw sunrise on the rim of the Grand Canyon more times than he could count. He took afternoon siestas atop the Eiffel Tower whenever he wanted. It was exhilarating and it was perfect.
The next 90 years calmed down a bit, but were still wonderful. He got into a nice routine, checking in on people he knew, seeing and learning new things. It was all he ever wanted in life, just without the living part. He saw people come and go, first from life to ghosts like him, and then some time later from ghost to the great beyond. He felt pity for those poor souls who just got a few years of afterlife and then were forgotten.
The next 900 years were solid. 900 years of observing human progress, and he got to see all of it. At some point he started to wonder who exactly was still remembering him, but he wasn't exactly complaining. He saw new forms of art, music, writing. He accompanied the third Martian expedition and got to see a whole new planet! By the end of the millennium Adam reckoned he'd seen more of what humanity had accomplished than just about anyone. He felt like a god; people came and went, but Adam just was.
With each passing millennium things got a bit duller. The sun didn't shine quite the way it used to, it seemed. Humanity found new and terrible ways to kill each other. By his fifth millennium he was bored. By his tenth millennium he was depressed. By his fifteenth millennium, he was just exhausted. He was thankful for his extended time, but he just wanted to be finished, and try as he might, had no idea who still remembered him.
And then it happened: the Sun went supernova and extinguished all life on Earth. The good people of Mars died a few days later. With just almost all of humanity dying, most every ghost passed on as well. It was just Adam and a thousand other ghosts left, who realized that the last remaining crew of Humans were the crew of 6 who had left for Europa.
After realizing what happened, the ghosts formed an astral caravan and travelled to Europa. They all desperately wanted to keep the crew alive and Humanity with it, and Adam tagged along with them. He didn't say anything, but he knew if they died his ennui would finally be over. They got to Europa, and found the 6 of them, nearly freezing to death and on their last fuel cell. Then 2 of them died, and a cadre of ghosts vanished. Then another the next week, and another the week after, and the last vestiges of humanity were 2 humans, Adam, and a few hundred ghosts.
Those last two explorers gave each other a dejected look, and resignedly opened the cyanide capsule in their craft. There was a wail of grief among ghost kind, but there was nothing to be done. As they took the pill, Adam was at peace, finally ready to enter the Great Beyond. He closed his eyes and-
Nothing. The last two died, turned into ghosts, and then they and all other ghosts disappeared. It was just Adam stuck on a godforsaken rock. He collapsed in a heap of anguish, inconsolable and at a loss for why he was still here. Suddenly a portal of of light opened:
> Well this is odd, I swear we unit tested everything, you really shouldn't still be here.
Said what appeared to be a bespectacled angel, thumbing through a small console.
> Who are you! Why am I here! Just end my suffering, please.
Adam replied, in a mixture of confusion, despair, and rage.
> Oh wow, I see what happened, a good old self-referential pointer exception. Wouldn't have expected that in such a sociable species like you anthropodes!
The angel's gleeful excitement in discovery only made Adam more upset. He wanted answers and he wanted them now, so as slowly and deliberately as he could Adam asked:
> Humanity is dead. Why am I here? Who remembers me?
The angel looked up from his console and square at Adam and answered,
> Look, I don't know how to tell you this, we just never anticipated this edge case. See when people die, we create an index of all the people that remember them, and then add and remove from it as people forget/learn/die. Once that list is empty, poof, Great Beyond. We've just never encountered what happened with you. When you died, your list was empty, and so the compiler filled it with the only person who ever remembered you. You. |
It feels like almost an eternity now. 15,000 years later, and I still can't believe this is the afterlife I've been promised. Was it all an illusion? Did I imagine my entire life? I don't know. It can't be. This might all be a test. All I know is, is that I need to move on.
I've been stuck in this form -I guess I could call it a form- ever since I died. I'm fed up from it and I want to move on. I still have subtle interactions with the world, so it's not that boring, but even that has its limits.
I can sometimes whisper to people, and I believe these whispers can influence them. Also, on rare occasions I can influence the physical world. I once pushed a chair, accidentally of course, I'm still unable to understand how that works.
What I do understand however, is that as long as I'm remembered by someone, I'll remain in this form. And I've been stuck here for 15,000 years.
I haven't even lived that long life. I was murdered at 33 by one of my closest friends, but I'm over that. I tried to live a good life, and only do good to people, and because of that I'm still remembered to this day.
But I need to move on, and I have an idea on how to do exactly that.
I've been talking to the people who believe in me. Who think that I was a good person. I've been influencing them to bad things, and hopefully that would indirectly make them forget me.
I'm not quite sure how else I could do it. If I mention my name they'll still remember it, and that's the opposite of what I'm trying to do.
I've done good in my life. At least I would like to think so. But now it's time for me to move on.
I had this idea for the last 14,000 years, and today is the day I've decided enough is enough.
It's time for me to do evil, and I have the perfect partner to do so. My mortal enemy Satan.
Isn't it ironic? That Jesus Christ, the messiah, the man who sacrificed himself for everyone's sins die from his close friend, and now has to work with his greatest enemy to live on?
| |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | It was 20th April. The short man stood at the memorial that was made in his honor on the same day, around 500 years ago. It was his birthday. Every year they resurrected his statue in his name on this day to remember his life. He did not bother keeping track of the date and which year it was, but he had seen enough to wish death upon himself.
But can the dead really die again?
It had all started with the girl. She had rejected him publicly and her kind ridiculed him for it. Her kind, the outsiders. He had always wished good things for his people and felt that his country was plundered by theses wretched ones. Everything he said in public created a frenzy of nationalistic pride that bordered on hysteria, which further propagated his belief that the outsiders were to be exterminated.
So he became the Führer and dealt a blow to their kind.
But the next few decades saw the rise of the outsiders in the free world and they controlled most of the economy. A small group of these 'Untermensch' had vowed to never forget him and take over the world as revenge, taking apart and undoing everything he had worked for.
Now, thousands of years later, he was regarded as the true Evil one. Just when he thought he could rest in peace forever, the small population that survived the 5 nuclear wars had come together and decided that he was the reason why Nuclear weapons had come into existence.
They erected a statue in Germany and desecrated it by any means possible. Every year on this day they came together and violated his effigy as some sort of a sick festival.
The only way he could console himself was that he brought humanity back together for a single cause albeit a cause he did not care for.
| You dont really get told anything, when you die. You just have to figure things out on your own. It took the first couple centuries watching ghosts come and go before I finally understood it.
And here it is, thousands and thousands of years later and Im still here. Im not alone, of course, but that doesnt seem to help. We did not know eachother, no matter how hard we try to remember ever meeting. In life none of us were famous or powerful. All of those faded long, long ago.
It was only last week. Only after the last human on the planet died. That was when we finally connected the dots. The rule is that you persist so long as you are remembered. Not your name or your legacy. You. Despite being born across a hundred thousand years all of us... we are remembered by a single person who has never died.
And today we finally got to meet them. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | I floated through the Himalayas seeking the Holy One. The last seer of the Temple of the Third Eye. The only being who could sense my presence and answer my eternal question.
Finally I saw the tiered roofs of a pagoda through the snowy mist. I had found the temple.
Free of a mortal body, I hastened through the ice and rocks, flying through ancient stone pillars and up winding stairs, until I reached the terrace where the Holy One meditated. His fragile naked body oblivious to the harsh winds that howled around his monastery.
I waited patiently as he contemplated eternity. It was almost a month before he finally acknowledged me.
"Your grace, I beseech you. Answer my one question" I pleaded. "Why is my spirit trapped on this mortal coil for all these millennia?"
The Holy One pondered long without answering.
"My time has long passed" I said. "Who still remembers me so deeply that their thoughts entwine me to this Earthly plane?"
It was a full week before the sage finally responded. His papery lips fluttered as he whispered to me.
"Listen closely Jesus, that middle eastern peace cult you started up fifteen thousand years ago has turned into the world's most dominant religion. Kids worship images of your grisly execution every damn day. No one is forgetting you in a hurry." | You dont really get told anything, when you die. You just have to figure things out on your own. It took the first couple centuries watching ghosts come and go before I finally understood it.
And here it is, thousands and thousands of years later and Im still here. Im not alone, of course, but that doesnt seem to help. We did not know eachother, no matter how hard we try to remember ever meeting. In life none of us were famous or powerful. All of those faded long, long ago.
It was only last week. Only after the last human on the planet died. That was when we finally connected the dots. The rule is that you persist so long as you are remembered. Not your name or your legacy. You. Despite being born across a hundred thousand years all of us... we are remembered by a single person who has never died.
And today we finally got to meet them. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | "Go!" I commanded as I held up my sword, mentally preparing for my demise to guarantee enough time for my queen to escape. Hoards of enemies appeared on the horizon and quickly charged down as the rest of us began our retreat.
"Captain..." I shook my head. They knew that no amount of words will turn me back from my decision. They knew how stubborn I am.
"Make sure she lives..." I gave my second-in-command a bittersweet grin and with that, he nodded and departed. I stood at the designated choke point, where enemies could only come in few. I muttered a short prayer before engaging in combat.
Like a lone wolf fighting hoards of endless enemies, I hope that my death would at least serve somewhat of a purpose. A heroic death.
-------
*The world...has greatly changed...since my death...*
*I've seen... the world transform... from villages... to small towns... to giant cities...*
*I've seen war... the endless cycle... of humanity... Oh how ironic it is... for us to fight... rather than... cooperate...*
*I still ponder... at my semi-existence... why am I still here?... Is this... what afterlife... looks like...?*
*I doubt it... There's no one... but me and others... living beings... who are completely... unaware of me...*
*Many things I can do... Defies natural laws... go through physical beings... float and watch... like a spectator watching... the beautiful world... slowly and finally... working together...*
-------
Fellow men, the Empire dates back to the one man who saved us all. His bravery. His courage. His noble sacrifice is what continue us to this day. Let us learn from him.
Yes sir!
---------
Alright children, gather around. Here's a story about a legendary swordsman who risks his life for the greater good.
Oh! I love that story. My grandfather tells me that one all the time. I love it!
Now now Jack, let's not spoil it for others.
-------
"Haven't you heard, man?" Joe said as he kept drinking, now completely wasted, "That infamous legend of the warrior that managed to keep his queen alive by sacrificing himself. I aspire to be like that for Maddie."
"Shhh... You have too much to drink tonight. You and your love for history. You wouldn't want to do that for that crazy ex of yours."
-------
*Ah... Maybe it's not that bad... I hope I get to see... how much humanity... progresses into... the better future.*
| You dont really get told anything, when you die. You just have to figure things out on your own. It took the first couple centuries watching ghosts come and go before I finally understood it.
And here it is, thousands and thousands of years later and Im still here. Im not alone, of course, but that doesnt seem to help. We did not know eachother, no matter how hard we try to remember ever meeting. In life none of us were famous or powerful. All of those faded long, long ago.
It was only last week. Only after the last human on the planet died. That was when we finally connected the dots. The rule is that you persist so long as you are remembered. Not your name or your legacy. You. Despite being born across a hundred thousand years all of us... we are remembered by a single person who has never died.
And today we finally got to meet them. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | "Well, this sucks, Bill."
"As I'm aware, for the millionth time" Bill sighed. For all Bill knew, Ted might actually be at the million mark now.
The two ghosts stared over the horizon as the sun set, golden rays washing over the peaceful Californian vineyard.
"Bill... Why..." Ted began to drawl, his eyes drooping with weariness.
"Look I told you, okay? It was an Accident. Acc-i-dent." Bill was visibly agitated, as well as a ghost can be.
"But.. it was just a container of mayonnaise?"
"Miracle whip, different stuff Ted"
Bill sighed again. No one could've expected that, in the horrific explosion of the Eureka Nuclear Power Plant, a single condiment jar would give everyone on the planet immortality. The setting sun, it would be back again. Like it has been for the past fifteen thousand years.
Before Bill could explain any more, the soft muffles of snoring forced his eyes off the horizon and onto his comrade. Ted was slouched over, drooling slightly.
"I really should've never put my name on it." Bill exclaimed out loud, but deep down he knew that he *hated* when anyone used his stuff. | You dont really get told anything, when you die. You just have to figure things out on your own. It took the first couple centuries watching ghosts come and go before I finally understood it.
And here it is, thousands and thousands of years later and Im still here. Im not alone, of course, but that doesnt seem to help. We did not know eachother, no matter how hard we try to remember ever meeting. In life none of us were famous or powerful. All of those faded long, long ago.
It was only last week. Only after the last human on the planet died. That was when we finally connected the dots. The rule is that you persist so long as you are remembered. Not your name or your legacy. You. Despite being born across a hundred thousand years all of us... we are remembered by a single person who has never died.
And today we finally got to meet them. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | Getting your bearings, that's the tricky part; the handle on what you're experiencing, and how you're experiencing it. Once you open your eyes, and learn how to move your arms, you'd be surprised how far you can reach.
Sometimes, the ones that have nearly overcome the trauma of their journey stir a little to my words. I don't really know if they understand my meaning, or even struggled to comprehend the meaning behind my harsh noises. The real trouble was, none of them stuck around long enough to have the time to really open their eyes. A meager handful of centuries at best, before the gossamer strands of memory binding them together turned, inexorably, to dust.
I once knew a certain man, and more importantly, this man knows me. He never had wealth or fame, and honestly I can't recall even his name. The placing of terminally ill persons into a manner of stasis wasn't exactly a new idea, you see, but the hurdle of being able to reverse the process was overcome by some brilliant young mind whom I thank dearly.
And so it came to pass, after how long I cannot reckon, that I opened my eyes. Later still I would explore the breadth of my grasp, and find it tremendous. I set my will to ensuring that the man who knew me remained undisturbed. So long as the stars burned, they would fuel the machines that preserved a certain, unremarkable human.
It took only a few decades of influence. Sharing portions of my vision with those living bright enough to put it into action, as well as enticing ideas for possible wealth in investors took care of the rest. A group of some few hundred in stasis, including the man who remembered me, were transported to a bunker, miles deep and attended autonomously. The supplies in reserve would keep several hundred humans in stasis for over ten thousand years. Fortunately, the fortress was only ever designed to keep one person safe.
The armed revolt, which conveniently killed everyone with any knowledge the bunker's location, took less than five years to bloom.
Even now, mankind struggles to make the leap of harassing a significant portion of the sun's output. It will be enough for a few billion years, but that will do for now. | You dont really get told anything, when you die. You just have to figure things out on your own. It took the first couple centuries watching ghosts come and go before I finally understood it.
And here it is, thousands and thousands of years later and Im still here. Im not alone, of course, but that doesnt seem to help. We did not know eachother, no matter how hard we try to remember ever meeting. In life none of us were famous or powerful. All of those faded long, long ago.
It was only last week. Only after the last human on the planet died. That was when we finally connected the dots. The rule is that you persist so long as you are remembered. Not your name or your legacy. You. Despite being born across a hundred thousand years all of us... we are remembered by a single person who has never died.
And today we finally got to meet them. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | **Dedication to Jim Morrison**
"I died on the sands of Singapore."
Melchiades had said
As he faded into darkness
With his only friend.
He lives, now, in crystal palaces
Where buildings shine like mirrors
Reflecting sunlight.
His words ride like violent storms
Across the open range.
They burn like mercury
In the old black crucible
You have found immortality my friend.
Enjoy it.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
NOTE: This was a very old poem I've written during a weird time where I had a little bit of an obsession with 100 Years of Solitude and The Doors (The 60s in general). When I read the prompt I thought about this poem. Whether its good or not I have no idea. At the time of writing the poem I wrote about 200 or so others, Some okay. Others not so much. | You dont really get told anything, when you die. You just have to figure things out on your own. It took the first couple centuries watching ghosts come and go before I finally understood it.
And here it is, thousands and thousands of years later and Im still here. Im not alone, of course, but that doesnt seem to help. We did not know eachother, no matter how hard we try to remember ever meeting. In life none of us were famous or powerful. All of those faded long, long ago.
It was only last week. Only after the last human on the planet died. That was when we finally connected the dots. The rule is that you persist so long as you are remembered. Not your name or your legacy. You. Despite being born across a hundred thousand years all of us... we are remembered by a single person who has never died.
And today we finally got to meet them. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | I have been on this planet for the last 15k years. They say that the soul transfers to the next dimension when you are the forgotten past. Every year the portal closes on me on the same day, January 1. The one day I look forward to seeing. But these mortals refuse to forget me. I have seen progress, when I was alive, I used to roam around in a bullock cart and now I see the people of this generation teleport. It is highly ironic that when I was alive, the only thing I wanted was to become immortal, rich and a legend that nobody forgets.
But that has come to bite me in my ass. Death has simplified things, all my friends have passed away to the next dimension but I am still here, because of that one man I save all those years ago when I was barely twenty years old. I was going home, walking on the road, unlike the kids of this generation who just teleport where ever they want, our generation had to actually walk. In a dark corner, I saw a man. I thought he was an addict which is why I did not look at him and kept walking ahead. But he called me, "Excuse me."
I pretended to not hear him and quickened my pace.
But I heard him wail, again. "Excuse me, I think I am having a stroke. Do you have water?"
My entire outlook changed when I saw death standing in front me me in his form, I thought of my parents, friends and saw them in the wailing man. I ran to my home to fetch some water, luckily enough, I lived at a stone's throw distance from the man. I got him water and he sat down. It turned out that he had diabetes and he was not having a heart attack.
He asked me to stay with him until his family arrived, and they did, in an Audi A7. I had never seen an Audi this closely in life, it turned out that he was a big politician who was strolling and not a drug addict.
Politicians in India have a big following among the working class and this man said he saw God in me and that was the day he started spreading the rumour that I was the last avatar of Lord kalki and because he was a famous politician, these stupid people started praying to me and overnight I became a godman despite the fact that I did not want anything to do with him. He gave me his Audi as a gift for saving his life and even though I refused, he parked it in front of my home and hung the key in my door.
His followers formed a huge line for touching my feet for the better part of the year and I had to ask him to tell them to stop. I started another rumour and they did stop. But they did not stop praying about me and thinking about me. One lunatic god fearing follower of the politician built a temple in my name and there is an actual priest who sits there, it is apparently a big business.
When I was on my deathbed, I hoped that it would die with me, but after my death, the myth of my power (I did not have any) just grew exponentially, some claimed to see me fly, some said I teleported and what not and 1k years later I became an actual God. They prayed to Lord Ganesh and me at the same time. 15k years later, they wrote books about my mythical superpowers and some even claimed that I was the Godhead.
There is no hope left for me now to be released from this world, I am doomed to stay here, as a spirit, powerless to do anything at all.
All this for saving a life. | You dont really get told anything, when you die. You just have to figure things out on your own. It took the first couple centuries watching ghosts come and go before I finally understood it.
And here it is, thousands and thousands of years later and Im still here. Im not alone, of course, but that doesnt seem to help. We did not know eachother, no matter how hard we try to remember ever meeting. In life none of us were famous or powerful. All of those faded long, long ago.
It was only last week. Only after the last human on the planet died. That was when we finally connected the dots. The rule is that you persist so long as you are remembered. Not your name or your legacy. You. Despite being born across a hundred thousand years all of us... we are remembered by a single person who has never died.
And today we finally got to meet them. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | "Well then."
Being informed that you are still remembered 15,000 years after your death should seem pretty awesome. I guess it was, after a fashion.
"I just wish it had been for something other than eating that Golden Corral into bankruptcy." I sighed. | You dont really get told anything, when you die. You just have to figure things out on your own. It took the first couple centuries watching ghosts come and go before I finally understood it.
And here it is, thousands and thousands of years later and Im still here. Im not alone, of course, but that doesnt seem to help. We did not know eachother, no matter how hard we try to remember ever meeting. In life none of us were famous or powerful. All of those faded long, long ago.
It was only last week. Only after the last human on the planet died. That was when we finally connected the dots. The rule is that you persist so long as you are remembered. Not your name or your legacy. You. Despite being born across a hundred thousand years all of us... we are remembered by a single person who has never died.
And today we finally got to meet them. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | Anna’s Ghost
***
“Anna, can you hear me?” I asked.
“What?” my only daughter answered drearily. She was slumped over her dining table. Her eyes were red. It was late. She had been crying.
“Anna, it’s me,” I said. I put all my strength into being heard. Into existing.
“Oh my goodness, dad?” Suddenly, Anna was alert. She stood up and began to pace back and forth. “No! There’s no way that’s you. Gosh, I must be going crazy!”
“Anna, you’re not crazy! Listen to me!”
Anna shook her head. “No, I can’t entertain delusions! You’re not real! I’m just hallucinating because it’s one year since you died. My boss said I should see a psychiatrist after I had the breakdown. I didn’t listen.”
I didn’t want to see Anna like this. I wanted her to smile again. She hadn’t smiled once since I died.
“Anna… It doesn’t matter if you think I’m real or not. I just want to tell you something. I’ve seen you hurting. I know you feel like you failed, and-”
“I did fail, dad! After mum died, I spent my life trying to save you! And I failed!”
“Anna, I know what failure feels like. Believe me, I’ve had my fair share. But I’ve seen you grow, and you have been my proudest achievement. It hurts to see you go through this. You have mourned, and it is time to move on and finish your work.”
I must have struck a chord, because Anna paused and sat down again. “My work…” she muttered.
Anna was the smartest person I’d ever known, and that’s not just my pride as a father speaking. She was very young when her mother died, and I suppose she never accepted it. She became a biotechnical researcher, and she spent her life working on unlocking human immortality. Her research was her passion at the expense of all else. To her, my death was more than the loss of a loved one. It was the failure of her life’s work.
“Anna, listen,” I began. “There are so many more people out there who need you now. Just before I died, you told me you were so close to a breakthrough. You told me to hang on. I was in awe, you know? In awe at what an amazing person you’d become.” I chuckled at the memory. I don’t know if Anna could hear my chuckle, but a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and my heart soared. “Please, do this for me. You always seemed happiest when you were at work. I want to see that again.”
I stayed with Anna that night, and we talked until the sun rose.
The next day, she applied to return to her old position on the research team. They had been utterly lost without her, and they accepted her immediately.
***
Within a decade, human immortality was viable, and Anna became the world’s most famous scientist. She was never accustomed to the spotlight, and I think she found it more daunting than anything she had faced in her work. Her auburn hair turned a silvery grey.
In the meantime, I met other ghosts. From their experience, they explained that ghosts remained on Earth for as long as they were remembered. Very few ghosts were able to make themselves heard. I was one of the lucky ones. A few of the ghosts were social, but most kept to themselves. It didn’t matter much to me. I had been social in life, but in death I felt comfort in isolation.
I even met Anna’s mother again. She was happy, albeit apprehensive, to see me. All the problems we’d experienced in life felt like a bad dream. We spoke for a great length, and then enjoyed each other’s company in silence.
***
Anna had wanted to die. With no living family, and no close friends, she felt that she had given her gift to humanity and was ready to leave.
“When I die, I’ll be with my parents,” she told the media. Her wishes were met with great protest. A mind like hers shouldn’t die, the media said. I was inclined to agree, but Anna would have none of it. She had made peace with her end. She said she wanted to join me and her mother on the other side.
It was the strangest thing that convinced her to live. I had told her that ghosts disappear when they are forgotten. Anna asked me what happens to ghosts after they disappear, but I had no idea. Anna was the one who pieced it together.
“So, after I die, who will be alive to remember you and mum? Eventually, you’ll disappear. But I won’t join you. I’ll never disappear, because everyone alive knows my name and, thanks to me, they’ll never die.”
That was the reason for her choice, and it showed how much she truly loved her mother and me. The truth was that, even though I had wanted Anna to live forever, I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do. Maybe that’s just me and my old fashioned ways.
I stayed by her side for thousands of years.
***
Humanity spread across the universe. My dearest Anna was appointed as a scientific advisor to the Federation of the Milky Way, the most densely populated and economically active human federation in the universe.
Every few decades, Anna set aside a year to spend time with me and her mother. Humanity’s languages had long since evolved into forms we could not understand, but Anna spoke to us in the version of English we had used when I was alive. It was a simple gesture, so that I did not have to trouble myself learning new dialects every few centuries, but I always felt touched.
Unfortunately, this did not last forever.
Fifteen thousand years after my death, Anna told me that the hardware in her brain had long ago reached the physical limits of the universe, and it was it now packed to its capacity. Any information she wished to gain, she had to erase something else from her mind.
“There’s a lot of processing power in my mind,” she told me. “I’ve been using it to make sense of the crazy amount of policies that the government implements for the Galaxy. Most people have regular memory clean-ups every decade. I need to forget, or my mind is going to stagnate.”
“What are you saying?” I asked, but I knew. My mind was like a termite compared to hers, but I could understand enough. She needed to erase memories that were least relevant to her current life – the memories of her life fifteen thousand years ago. Her mother and I would disappear.
Eventually, I spoke. “Anna, I’m so proud of all the good you’ve done for humanity, and everything you’ve created. It’s more than what I ever thought was humanly possible. If this is going to be a goodbye, then I’m happy for the fifteen thousand years we’ve shared.”
Anna was silent.
***
Eventually, my last day came.
Anna organised her memory clean-up. It was going to be precise. Her mind would be in peak condition afterwards. The androids who perform such procedures sensed her apprehension, and they gave her words of comfort. She didn’t say anything in response.
Just as the procedure was about to begin, Anna signalled for the androids to stop.
The androids seemed puzzled, and they asked her something in their foreign syntax. I had no idea what their question was, but Anna responded in a version of English I understood.
“No.”
***
Epilogue:
Human self-terminations were rare, but they were known to happen.
Anna’s last wish was that her self-termination was not to be publicised. She requested that all records of her existence be removed from the public archives. All her work and achievements, spanning fifteen millennia of scientific and political progress, were to be reattributed to Anna’s colleague, who was happy to take the credit.
After Anna’s death, she remained as a ghost, sustained by the memories of the people who knew her personally. As centuries passed, the memories of those people were cleaned up and overwritten. Eventually, Anna faded.
Her last hope as a ghost was that she would see her parents again on the other side, if one existed. | You dont really get told anything, when you die. You just have to figure things out on your own. It took the first couple centuries watching ghosts come and go before I finally understood it.
And here it is, thousands and thousands of years later and Im still here. Im not alone, of course, but that doesnt seem to help. We did not know eachother, no matter how hard we try to remember ever meeting. In life none of us were famous or powerful. All of those faded long, long ago.
It was only last week. Only after the last human on the planet died. That was when we finally connected the dots. The rule is that you persist so long as you are remembered. Not your name or your legacy. You. Despite being born across a hundred thousand years all of us... we are remembered by a single person who has never died.
And today we finally got to meet them. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | Before I was a ghost, I was a miraculous gentleman of great gravitas, a real stand outer. A thunderbolt incarnate that shocked and electrified every sap that I met. I could be put in the same room with any person, man or woman, and they would be proposing engagement in 5 minutes. I even had to cut off this one guy from ordering a wedding elephant. He was a funny bastard, I think his name was Frank, from Montana, working in power plant demolition. Anyways, long story short, I got power hungry and I sort of went all dictatorship and I won the highest body count medal, a religion popped up, and now I'm the Satan of it, well I'm not actually Lucifer, my name is You. Err no, wouldn't that be a great twist, something sort of grandiose and profoundish, but not really, my real name is Hal Holman. I blew up the moon, for my birthday, and the astroid belt that took it's place is called the Hal Holman Astroid Belt, I named it and it sort of stuck. | You dont really get told anything, when you die. You just have to figure things out on your own. It took the first couple centuries watching ghosts come and go before I finally understood it.
And here it is, thousands and thousands of years later and Im still here. Im not alone, of course, but that doesnt seem to help. We did not know eachother, no matter how hard we try to remember ever meeting. In life none of us were famous or powerful. All of those faded long, long ago.
It was only last week. Only after the last human on the planet died. That was when we finally connected the dots. The rule is that you persist so long as you are remembered. Not your name or your legacy. You. Despite being born across a hundred thousand years all of us... we are remembered by a single person who has never died.
And today we finally got to meet them. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | "This way." Leonard was clearly distraught to see me point down the spookier of the two corridors. I sighed. "For the hundredth time, I promise you that nothing down here will kill you."
Leonard looked back and forth hesitantly between me and the corridor, white-knuckling his bolter like it was a security blanket.
"Come on, it's just another minute or so, and it'll all be over. Then you'll get everything I promised you: the account numbers, the exabytes of blackmail material, all the vault locations... everything."
It was quite the treasure trove I had amassed over the years -- centuries upon centuries of payouts from dealing in information gleaned from private conversations in board rooms and war rooms alike. It took me an embarrassingly long time to understand how far beyond my own ability my problem was to solve, that I had to make it in others' best interests to help me. And nothing -- not sympathy, not duty; nothing -- motivates people like money and power. I had lost count of all the dynasties I had made, and as well those I'd brought to ruin when they disobeyed.
Truth be told, I had grown sick of the king-making business not long after I had started, and millennium after millennium, I looked forward to the day it would all be behind me. And as to who would inherit it all, well, I frankly didn't give a shit. Might as well be Leonard.
But Leonard was getting cold feet again. His terror-sticken stare reminded me of a cow, and I lamented that I couldn't tell him how much he looked like one because he of course had no clue what a cow was, as they'd gone extinct several thousands of years before Leonard was born. That might have been my fault. I don't even remember.
The problem with Leonard, I think, was that the sheer _mediocrity_ of everything about him meant that he couldn't fathom the magnitude of the wealth I was offering him, so to him it was simply unreal. I laughed at first when I saw that it was some newly hired maintenance worker who had lucked into an all-access pass to the whole of this subterranean kingdom courtesy of a software bug, but it turned out that getting him off his ass was maddening. It felt degrading to have to combine the usual promise of riches with a more... personal effort.
I stepped directly up to him, glaring into his eyes from inches away. "Leonard," I demanded. "This is how you end it. You turn back now, I will not let you sleep _a fucking wink_. I will drown out the voices of your family with my screams. I will dismantle your will to live, if you don't walk down that fucking hallway. There is nothing down here to be afraid of but _me_. Do you understand? Now get moving."
Leonard wimpered, but obliged.
To be fair, this place was essentially an industrial crypt. Even the slums ended hundreds of floors up. I was honestly pretty surprised to see how many of the elevators still worked despite the inconsistent coverage for the lighting and air filtration systems. Some damned fine 152nd Century engineering, right there.
"S-so where are we now?" Leonard was skimming his flashlight over the rusted sculture of a company logo.
"These are the last offices of Express Lunar Imports, which went out of business..." I paused to do a bit of mental math "...about 140 years ago. They were the last company to buy into a contract with QuikClean Cleaning Solutions, which was the last company to upgrade their droids from..." I clenched my teeth. "From Tier 7 AI."
We walked down the rest of the hallway and turned the corner in silence.
The inevitable question was coming.
"You've mentioned that before, I think," started Leonard. "Tier 7 AI tech. I mean, that's ancient history. What's-- I mean, if you don't mind me asking..."
I looked at Leonard expectantly.
"Do you have some kind of problem, or something? With Tier 7 AI?"
I swallowed. Funny how lacking a body still permitted me to do that, if only as a social cue, out of habit.
We came to the door to the reception area for the executive offices. I pointed to the badge scanner. Despite the lack of power the surrounding darkness suggested, the scanner's red LED shined strongly. They were on a different circuit, still leeching nigh-undetectable amounts of power from the grid all the way up on surface.
Leonard scanned his badge. After one of Leonard's practically-audible heartbeats, the scanner's light turned green, and we entered the reception area.
"Tier 8 was the first fundamental move away from a neurological design. They rebuilt the basis for Tier 8 from scratch. Before then, it was all just layering updates and improvements onto what was, deep down, fundamentally still Tier 1. And do you know how they developed Tier 1 AI?"
"Well, no. How?"
"It was the commercialized, commodified result of what was cutting-edge research at the time: research into artificially reproducing a human brain."
I led Leonard past the reception desk and into the short corridor of grandiose double-doors beyond, labeled with names and varying executive titles in a script now long-forgotten.
"But building it up from scratch was still too difficult, back then," I explained. "So they cheated. Rather than recreate a brain, they _copied_ one from a corpse, from someone who had died and donated his body to science." Leonard was confused about my choice of words. I smirked. "We didn't always have reclamation centers, y'know. When we died, we could choose to be used for research, but most of us chose to decompose, instead." Leonard was visibly disgusted at the thought. How the times change.
"The first successful trial, _apparently_, came from reconstructing the brain of none other than my own deceased brother. Which was an honor in many ways, I suppose. But as we knew quite a lot less about the brain, they didn't do as thorough a job of lobotomizing it of its memories and personality as they would have liked. Or maybe they tried, but weren't precise enough to finish the job without rendering the artificial brain inoperable."
I pointed to the badge scanner at the door to the Vice President's office. Leonard scanned his badge.
"And since they wanted to be the first to market, they minted what they had as the standard to be mass-manufactured, bits of my brother and all. It flew completely under the radar. And the era of AI blossomed out of that."
We entered the Vice President's office, and Leonard marveled at how clean and orderly it was compared to the dust- and debris-filled hallways we had journeyed through. With a quick scan around the office, I found what I was looking for immediately: a cleaning droid slumped in the corner of the room in its recharging station. Found you at last, you elusive bastard.
"Since it never impacted their sales, they never finished scrubbing out those barest remnants of my brother. I found out the hard way when I bought one and it exhibited some... deeply unsettling behavior. That one, and every AI Tier since, right up through 7. And they decided it was easier to just pay me off and ask me to stay away from the things instead of fixing that one little quirk."
Leonard looked on nervously. "S-so what did you want me to do?"
The cleaning droid finished booting. Its eyes lit up and it raised its head to look at us, and began to announce,
_< PLEASE REFILL SOAP DISP-- >_
I knew what was coming. Just like the hundreds of thousands of similar models I had tracked down one-by-one, it turned to me, cocked its head to the side, and asked in a language I hadn't heard a human speak in over fourteen thousand years:
_< JACK, IS THAT YOU? >_
I turned to Leonard.
"I need _you_ to shoot _that_ in its fucking head." | You dont really get told anything, when you die. You just have to figure things out on your own. It took the first couple centuries watching ghosts come and go before I finally understood it.
And here it is, thousands and thousands of years later and Im still here. Im not alone, of course, but that doesnt seem to help. We did not know eachother, no matter how hard we try to remember ever meeting. In life none of us were famous or powerful. All of those faded long, long ago.
It was only last week. Only after the last human on the planet died. That was when we finally connected the dots. The rule is that you persist so long as you are remembered. Not your name or your legacy. You. Despite being born across a hundred thousand years all of us... we are remembered by a single person who has never died.
And today we finally got to meet them. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | I floated through the Himalayas seeking the Holy One. The last seer of the Temple of the Third Eye. The only being who could sense my presence and answer my eternal question.
Finally I saw the tiered roofs of a pagoda through the snowy mist. I had found the temple.
Free of a mortal body, I hastened through the ice and rocks, flying through ancient stone pillars and up winding stairs, until I reached the terrace where the Holy One meditated. His fragile naked body oblivious to the harsh winds that howled around his monastery.
I waited patiently as he contemplated eternity. It was almost a month before he finally acknowledged me.
"Your grace, I beseech you. Answer my one question" I pleaded. "Why is my spirit trapped on this mortal coil for all these millennia?"
The Holy One pondered long without answering.
"My time has long passed" I said. "Who still remembers me so deeply that their thoughts entwine me to this Earthly plane?"
It was a full week before the sage finally responded. His papery lips fluttered as he whispered to me.
"Listen closely Jesus, that middle eastern peace cult you started up fifteen thousand years ago has turned into the world's most dominant religion. Kids worship images of your grisly execution every damn day. No one is forgetting you in a hurry." | Steps to living forever...
I did not think it was possible and there are several of us. Beings... entities stuck in this limbo. Memories of us continuing on causing us to stay here, not through books or stone... that speak of our name. That is but a word... a word that does not hold the essence of who we are. It holds no memories, a name is a powerful thing... but only when attached to something.
An emotion, a livable moment... a video in my case.
In the age of cell phones that could record video... there was a time when this was not possible... I was a famous youtube artist as I liked to say. I interacted with my audience, spoke up about topics that mattered.
Now 15,000 years later the digital files that have been lost to the internet were at year 10,000 found by another alien race. A race that in the ruins of the Earth's digital life span, has taken a shine to studying the remnants of my race. Their intense studying of my videos, along with others, has kept me from dying.
It is as if they are obsessed. These beings cycle through videos, pictures, social profiles, and occasionally a virtual reality recording of peoples lives. None of them leave videos or lives unexplored... it is as if this action was important to them.
"Why can't you let us go?" I say in my limbo.
The being watching my video blinks and looks at me. Then in my language it says, "Because you are still alive to me and we wish to help find away for you to live again. Your race does not have to die." | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | "Go!" I commanded as I held up my sword, mentally preparing for my demise to guarantee enough time for my queen to escape. Hoards of enemies appeared on the horizon and quickly charged down as the rest of us began our retreat.
"Captain..." I shook my head. They knew that no amount of words will turn me back from my decision. They knew how stubborn I am.
"Make sure she lives..." I gave my second-in-command a bittersweet grin and with that, he nodded and departed. I stood at the designated choke point, where enemies could only come in few. I muttered a short prayer before engaging in combat.
Like a lone wolf fighting hoards of endless enemies, I hope that my death would at least serve somewhat of a purpose. A heroic death.
-------
*The world...has greatly changed...since my death...*
*I've seen... the world transform... from villages... to small towns... to giant cities...*
*I've seen war... the endless cycle... of humanity... Oh how ironic it is... for us to fight... rather than... cooperate...*
*I still ponder... at my semi-existence... why am I still here?... Is this... what afterlife... looks like...?*
*I doubt it... There's no one... but me and others... living beings... who are completely... unaware of me...*
*Many things I can do... Defies natural laws... go through physical beings... float and watch... like a spectator watching... the beautiful world... slowly and finally... working together...*
-------
Fellow men, the Empire dates back to the one man who saved us all. His bravery. His courage. His noble sacrifice is what continue us to this day. Let us learn from him.
Yes sir!
---------
Alright children, gather around. Here's a story about a legendary swordsman who risks his life for the greater good.
Oh! I love that story. My grandfather tells me that one all the time. I love it!
Now now Jack, let's not spoil it for others.
-------
"Haven't you heard, man?" Joe said as he kept drinking, now completely wasted, "That infamous legend of the warrior that managed to keep his queen alive by sacrificing himself. I aspire to be like that for Maddie."
"Shhh... You have too much to drink tonight. You and your love for history. You wouldn't want to do that for that crazy ex of yours."
-------
*Ah... Maybe it's not that bad... I hope I get to see... how much humanity... progresses into... the better future.*
| Steps to living forever...
I did not think it was possible and there are several of us. Beings... entities stuck in this limbo. Memories of us continuing on causing us to stay here, not through books or stone... that speak of our name. That is but a word... a word that does not hold the essence of who we are. It holds no memories, a name is a powerful thing... but only when attached to something.
An emotion, a livable moment... a video in my case.
In the age of cell phones that could record video... there was a time when this was not possible... I was a famous youtube artist as I liked to say. I interacted with my audience, spoke up about topics that mattered.
Now 15,000 years later the digital files that have been lost to the internet were at year 10,000 found by another alien race. A race that in the ruins of the Earth's digital life span, has taken a shine to studying the remnants of my race. Their intense studying of my videos, along with others, has kept me from dying.
It is as if they are obsessed. These beings cycle through videos, pictures, social profiles, and occasionally a virtual reality recording of peoples lives. None of them leave videos or lives unexplored... it is as if this action was important to them.
"Why can't you let us go?" I say in my limbo.
The being watching my video blinks and looks at me. Then in my language it says, "Because you are still alive to me and we wish to help find away for you to live again. Your race does not have to die." | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | "Well, this sucks, Bill."
"As I'm aware, for the millionth time" Bill sighed. For all Bill knew, Ted might actually be at the million mark now.
The two ghosts stared over the horizon as the sun set, golden rays washing over the peaceful Californian vineyard.
"Bill... Why..." Ted began to drawl, his eyes drooping with weariness.
"Look I told you, okay? It was an Accident. Acc-i-dent." Bill was visibly agitated, as well as a ghost can be.
"But.. it was just a container of mayonnaise?"
"Miracle whip, different stuff Ted"
Bill sighed again. No one could've expected that, in the horrific explosion of the Eureka Nuclear Power Plant, a single condiment jar would give everyone on the planet immortality. The setting sun, it would be back again. Like it has been for the past fifteen thousand years.
Before Bill could explain any more, the soft muffles of snoring forced his eyes off the horizon and onto his comrade. Ted was slouched over, drooling slightly.
"I really should've never put my name on it." Bill exclaimed out loud, but deep down he knew that he *hated* when anyone used his stuff. | Steps to living forever...
I did not think it was possible and there are several of us. Beings... entities stuck in this limbo. Memories of us continuing on causing us to stay here, not through books or stone... that speak of our name. That is but a word... a word that does not hold the essence of who we are. It holds no memories, a name is a powerful thing... but only when attached to something.
An emotion, a livable moment... a video in my case.
In the age of cell phones that could record video... there was a time when this was not possible... I was a famous youtube artist as I liked to say. I interacted with my audience, spoke up about topics that mattered.
Now 15,000 years later the digital files that have been lost to the internet were at year 10,000 found by another alien race. A race that in the ruins of the Earth's digital life span, has taken a shine to studying the remnants of my race. Their intense studying of my videos, along with others, has kept me from dying.
It is as if they are obsessed. These beings cycle through videos, pictures, social profiles, and occasionally a virtual reality recording of peoples lives. None of them leave videos or lives unexplored... it is as if this action was important to them.
"Why can't you let us go?" I say in my limbo.
The being watching my video blinks and looks at me. Then in my language it says, "Because you are still alive to me and we wish to help find away for you to live again. Your race does not have to die." | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | Getting your bearings, that's the tricky part; the handle on what you're experiencing, and how you're experiencing it. Once you open your eyes, and learn how to move your arms, you'd be surprised how far you can reach.
Sometimes, the ones that have nearly overcome the trauma of their journey stir a little to my words. I don't really know if they understand my meaning, or even struggled to comprehend the meaning behind my harsh noises. The real trouble was, none of them stuck around long enough to have the time to really open their eyes. A meager handful of centuries at best, before the gossamer strands of memory binding them together turned, inexorably, to dust.
I once knew a certain man, and more importantly, this man knows me. He never had wealth or fame, and honestly I can't recall even his name. The placing of terminally ill persons into a manner of stasis wasn't exactly a new idea, you see, but the hurdle of being able to reverse the process was overcome by some brilliant young mind whom I thank dearly.
And so it came to pass, after how long I cannot reckon, that I opened my eyes. Later still I would explore the breadth of my grasp, and find it tremendous. I set my will to ensuring that the man who knew me remained undisturbed. So long as the stars burned, they would fuel the machines that preserved a certain, unremarkable human.
It took only a few decades of influence. Sharing portions of my vision with those living bright enough to put it into action, as well as enticing ideas for possible wealth in investors took care of the rest. A group of some few hundred in stasis, including the man who remembered me, were transported to a bunker, miles deep and attended autonomously. The supplies in reserve would keep several hundred humans in stasis for over ten thousand years. Fortunately, the fortress was only ever designed to keep one person safe.
The armed revolt, which conveniently killed everyone with any knowledge the bunker's location, took less than five years to bloom.
Even now, mankind struggles to make the leap of harassing a significant portion of the sun's output. It will be enough for a few billion years, but that will do for now. | Steps to living forever...
I did not think it was possible and there are several of us. Beings... entities stuck in this limbo. Memories of us continuing on causing us to stay here, not through books or stone... that speak of our name. That is but a word... a word that does not hold the essence of who we are. It holds no memories, a name is a powerful thing... but only when attached to something.
An emotion, a livable moment... a video in my case.
In the age of cell phones that could record video... there was a time when this was not possible... I was a famous youtube artist as I liked to say. I interacted with my audience, spoke up about topics that mattered.
Now 15,000 years later the digital files that have been lost to the internet were at year 10,000 found by another alien race. A race that in the ruins of the Earth's digital life span, has taken a shine to studying the remnants of my race. Their intense studying of my videos, along with others, has kept me from dying.
It is as if they are obsessed. These beings cycle through videos, pictures, social profiles, and occasionally a virtual reality recording of peoples lives. None of them leave videos or lives unexplored... it is as if this action was important to them.
"Why can't you let us go?" I say in my limbo.
The being watching my video blinks and looks at me. Then in my language it says, "Because you are still alive to me and we wish to help find away for you to live again. Your race does not have to die." | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | **Dedication to Jim Morrison**
"I died on the sands of Singapore."
Melchiades had said
As he faded into darkness
With his only friend.
He lives, now, in crystal palaces
Where buildings shine like mirrors
Reflecting sunlight.
His words ride like violent storms
Across the open range.
They burn like mercury
In the old black crucible
You have found immortality my friend.
Enjoy it.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
NOTE: This was a very old poem I've written during a weird time where I had a little bit of an obsession with 100 Years of Solitude and The Doors (The 60s in general). When I read the prompt I thought about this poem. Whether its good or not I have no idea. At the time of writing the poem I wrote about 200 or so others, Some okay. Others not so much. | Steps to living forever...
I did not think it was possible and there are several of us. Beings... entities stuck in this limbo. Memories of us continuing on causing us to stay here, not through books or stone... that speak of our name. That is but a word... a word that does not hold the essence of who we are. It holds no memories, a name is a powerful thing... but only when attached to something.
An emotion, a livable moment... a video in my case.
In the age of cell phones that could record video... there was a time when this was not possible... I was a famous youtube artist as I liked to say. I interacted with my audience, spoke up about topics that mattered.
Now 15,000 years later the digital files that have been lost to the internet were at year 10,000 found by another alien race. A race that in the ruins of the Earth's digital life span, has taken a shine to studying the remnants of my race. Their intense studying of my videos, along with others, has kept me from dying.
It is as if they are obsessed. These beings cycle through videos, pictures, social profiles, and occasionally a virtual reality recording of peoples lives. None of them leave videos or lives unexplored... it is as if this action was important to them.
"Why can't you let us go?" I say in my limbo.
The being watching my video blinks and looks at me. Then in my language it says, "Because you are still alive to me and we wish to help find away for you to live again. Your race does not have to die." | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | I have been on this planet for the last 15k years. They say that the soul transfers to the next dimension when you are the forgotten past. Every year the portal closes on me on the same day, January 1. The one day I look forward to seeing. But these mortals refuse to forget me. I have seen progress, when I was alive, I used to roam around in a bullock cart and now I see the people of this generation teleport. It is highly ironic that when I was alive, the only thing I wanted was to become immortal, rich and a legend that nobody forgets.
But that has come to bite me in my ass. Death has simplified things, all my friends have passed away to the next dimension but I am still here, because of that one man I save all those years ago when I was barely twenty years old. I was going home, walking on the road, unlike the kids of this generation who just teleport where ever they want, our generation had to actually walk. In a dark corner, I saw a man. I thought he was an addict which is why I did not look at him and kept walking ahead. But he called me, "Excuse me."
I pretended to not hear him and quickened my pace.
But I heard him wail, again. "Excuse me, I think I am having a stroke. Do you have water?"
My entire outlook changed when I saw death standing in front me me in his form, I thought of my parents, friends and saw them in the wailing man. I ran to my home to fetch some water, luckily enough, I lived at a stone's throw distance from the man. I got him water and he sat down. It turned out that he had diabetes and he was not having a heart attack.
He asked me to stay with him until his family arrived, and they did, in an Audi A7. I had never seen an Audi this closely in life, it turned out that he was a big politician who was strolling and not a drug addict.
Politicians in India have a big following among the working class and this man said he saw God in me and that was the day he started spreading the rumour that I was the last avatar of Lord kalki and because he was a famous politician, these stupid people started praying to me and overnight I became a godman despite the fact that I did not want anything to do with him. He gave me his Audi as a gift for saving his life and even though I refused, he parked it in front of my home and hung the key in my door.
His followers formed a huge line for touching my feet for the better part of the year and I had to ask him to tell them to stop. I started another rumour and they did stop. But they did not stop praying about me and thinking about me. One lunatic god fearing follower of the politician built a temple in my name and there is an actual priest who sits there, it is apparently a big business.
When I was on my deathbed, I hoped that it would die with me, but after my death, the myth of my power (I did not have any) just grew exponentially, some claimed to see me fly, some said I teleported and what not and 1k years later I became an actual God. They prayed to Lord Ganesh and me at the same time. 15k years later, they wrote books about my mythical superpowers and some even claimed that I was the Godhead.
There is no hope left for me now to be released from this world, I am doomed to stay here, as a spirit, powerless to do anything at all.
All this for saving a life. | Steps to living forever...
I did not think it was possible and there are several of us. Beings... entities stuck in this limbo. Memories of us continuing on causing us to stay here, not through books or stone... that speak of our name. That is but a word... a word that does not hold the essence of who we are. It holds no memories, a name is a powerful thing... but only when attached to something.
An emotion, a livable moment... a video in my case.
In the age of cell phones that could record video... there was a time when this was not possible... I was a famous youtube artist as I liked to say. I interacted with my audience, spoke up about topics that mattered.
Now 15,000 years later the digital files that have been lost to the internet were at year 10,000 found by another alien race. A race that in the ruins of the Earth's digital life span, has taken a shine to studying the remnants of my race. Their intense studying of my videos, along with others, has kept me from dying.
It is as if they are obsessed. These beings cycle through videos, pictures, social profiles, and occasionally a virtual reality recording of peoples lives. None of them leave videos or lives unexplored... it is as if this action was important to them.
"Why can't you let us go?" I say in my limbo.
The being watching my video blinks and looks at me. Then in my language it says, "Because you are still alive to me and we wish to help find away for you to live again. Your race does not have to die." | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | "Well then."
Being informed that you are still remembered 15,000 years after your death should seem pretty awesome. I guess it was, after a fashion.
"I just wish it had been for something other than eating that Golden Corral into bankruptcy." I sighed. | Steps to living forever...
I did not think it was possible and there are several of us. Beings... entities stuck in this limbo. Memories of us continuing on causing us to stay here, not through books or stone... that speak of our name. That is but a word... a word that does not hold the essence of who we are. It holds no memories, a name is a powerful thing... but only when attached to something.
An emotion, a livable moment... a video in my case.
In the age of cell phones that could record video... there was a time when this was not possible... I was a famous youtube artist as I liked to say. I interacted with my audience, spoke up about topics that mattered.
Now 15,000 years later the digital files that have been lost to the internet were at year 10,000 found by another alien race. A race that in the ruins of the Earth's digital life span, has taken a shine to studying the remnants of my race. Their intense studying of my videos, along with others, has kept me from dying.
It is as if they are obsessed. These beings cycle through videos, pictures, social profiles, and occasionally a virtual reality recording of peoples lives. None of them leave videos or lives unexplored... it is as if this action was important to them.
"Why can't you let us go?" I say in my limbo.
The being watching my video blinks and looks at me. Then in my language it says, "Because you are still alive to me and we wish to help find away for you to live again. Your race does not have to die." | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | Anna’s Ghost
***
“Anna, can you hear me?” I asked.
“What?” my only daughter answered drearily. She was slumped over her dining table. Her eyes were red. It was late. She had been crying.
“Anna, it’s me,” I said. I put all my strength into being heard. Into existing.
“Oh my goodness, dad?” Suddenly, Anna was alert. She stood up and began to pace back and forth. “No! There’s no way that’s you. Gosh, I must be going crazy!”
“Anna, you’re not crazy! Listen to me!”
Anna shook her head. “No, I can’t entertain delusions! You’re not real! I’m just hallucinating because it’s one year since you died. My boss said I should see a psychiatrist after I had the breakdown. I didn’t listen.”
I didn’t want to see Anna like this. I wanted her to smile again. She hadn’t smiled once since I died.
“Anna… It doesn’t matter if you think I’m real or not. I just want to tell you something. I’ve seen you hurting. I know you feel like you failed, and-”
“I did fail, dad! After mum died, I spent my life trying to save you! And I failed!”
“Anna, I know what failure feels like. Believe me, I’ve had my fair share. But I’ve seen you grow, and you have been my proudest achievement. It hurts to see you go through this. You have mourned, and it is time to move on and finish your work.”
I must have struck a chord, because Anna paused and sat down again. “My work…” she muttered.
Anna was the smartest person I’d ever known, and that’s not just my pride as a father speaking. She was very young when her mother died, and I suppose she never accepted it. She became a biotechnical researcher, and she spent her life working on unlocking human immortality. Her research was her passion at the expense of all else. To her, my death was more than the loss of a loved one. It was the failure of her life’s work.
“Anna, listen,” I began. “There are so many more people out there who need you now. Just before I died, you told me you were so close to a breakthrough. You told me to hang on. I was in awe, you know? In awe at what an amazing person you’d become.” I chuckled at the memory. I don’t know if Anna could hear my chuckle, but a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and my heart soared. “Please, do this for me. You always seemed happiest when you were at work. I want to see that again.”
I stayed with Anna that night, and we talked until the sun rose.
The next day, she applied to return to her old position on the research team. They had been utterly lost without her, and they accepted her immediately.
***
Within a decade, human immortality was viable, and Anna became the world’s most famous scientist. She was never accustomed to the spotlight, and I think she found it more daunting than anything she had faced in her work. Her auburn hair turned a silvery grey.
In the meantime, I met other ghosts. From their experience, they explained that ghosts remained on Earth for as long as they were remembered. Very few ghosts were able to make themselves heard. I was one of the lucky ones. A few of the ghosts were social, but most kept to themselves. It didn’t matter much to me. I had been social in life, but in death I felt comfort in isolation.
I even met Anna’s mother again. She was happy, albeit apprehensive, to see me. All the problems we’d experienced in life felt like a bad dream. We spoke for a great length, and then enjoyed each other’s company in silence.
***
Anna had wanted to die. With no living family, and no close friends, she felt that she had given her gift to humanity and was ready to leave.
“When I die, I’ll be with my parents,” she told the media. Her wishes were met with great protest. A mind like hers shouldn’t die, the media said. I was inclined to agree, but Anna would have none of it. She had made peace with her end. She said she wanted to join me and her mother on the other side.
It was the strangest thing that convinced her to live. I had told her that ghosts disappear when they are forgotten. Anna asked me what happens to ghosts after they disappear, but I had no idea. Anna was the one who pieced it together.
“So, after I die, who will be alive to remember you and mum? Eventually, you’ll disappear. But I won’t join you. I’ll never disappear, because everyone alive knows my name and, thanks to me, they’ll never die.”
That was the reason for her choice, and it showed how much she truly loved her mother and me. The truth was that, even though I had wanted Anna to live forever, I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do. Maybe that’s just me and my old fashioned ways.
I stayed by her side for thousands of years.
***
Humanity spread across the universe. My dearest Anna was appointed as a scientific advisor to the Federation of the Milky Way, the most densely populated and economically active human federation in the universe.
Every few decades, Anna set aside a year to spend time with me and her mother. Humanity’s languages had long since evolved into forms we could not understand, but Anna spoke to us in the version of English we had used when I was alive. It was a simple gesture, so that I did not have to trouble myself learning new dialects every few centuries, but I always felt touched.
Unfortunately, this did not last forever.
Fifteen thousand years after my death, Anna told me that the hardware in her brain had long ago reached the physical limits of the universe, and it was it now packed to its capacity. Any information she wished to gain, she had to erase something else from her mind.
“There’s a lot of processing power in my mind,” she told me. “I’ve been using it to make sense of the crazy amount of policies that the government implements for the Galaxy. Most people have regular memory clean-ups every decade. I need to forget, or my mind is going to stagnate.”
“What are you saying?” I asked, but I knew. My mind was like a termite compared to hers, but I could understand enough. She needed to erase memories that were least relevant to her current life – the memories of her life fifteen thousand years ago. Her mother and I would disappear.
Eventually, I spoke. “Anna, I’m so proud of all the good you’ve done for humanity, and everything you’ve created. It’s more than what I ever thought was humanly possible. If this is going to be a goodbye, then I’m happy for the fifteen thousand years we’ve shared.”
Anna was silent.
***
Eventually, my last day came.
Anna organised her memory clean-up. It was going to be precise. Her mind would be in peak condition afterwards. The androids who perform such procedures sensed her apprehension, and they gave her words of comfort. She didn’t say anything in response.
Just as the procedure was about to begin, Anna signalled for the androids to stop.
The androids seemed puzzled, and they asked her something in their foreign syntax. I had no idea what their question was, but Anna responded in a version of English I understood.
“No.”
***
Epilogue:
Human self-terminations were rare, but they were known to happen.
Anna’s last wish was that her self-termination was not to be publicised. She requested that all records of her existence be removed from the public archives. All her work and achievements, spanning fifteen millennia of scientific and political progress, were to be reattributed to Anna’s colleague, who was happy to take the credit.
After Anna’s death, she remained as a ghost, sustained by the memories of the people who knew her personally. As centuries passed, the memories of those people were cleaned up and overwritten. Eventually, Anna faded.
Her last hope as a ghost was that she would see her parents again on the other side, if one existed. | Steps to living forever...
I did not think it was possible and there are several of us. Beings... entities stuck in this limbo. Memories of us continuing on causing us to stay here, not through books or stone... that speak of our name. That is but a word... a word that does not hold the essence of who we are. It holds no memories, a name is a powerful thing... but only when attached to something.
An emotion, a livable moment... a video in my case.
In the age of cell phones that could record video... there was a time when this was not possible... I was a famous youtube artist as I liked to say. I interacted with my audience, spoke up about topics that mattered.
Now 15,000 years later the digital files that have been lost to the internet were at year 10,000 found by another alien race. A race that in the ruins of the Earth's digital life span, has taken a shine to studying the remnants of my race. Their intense studying of my videos, along with others, has kept me from dying.
It is as if they are obsessed. These beings cycle through videos, pictures, social profiles, and occasionally a virtual reality recording of peoples lives. None of them leave videos or lives unexplored... it is as if this action was important to them.
"Why can't you let us go?" I say in my limbo.
The being watching my video blinks and looks at me. Then in my language it says, "Because you are still alive to me and we wish to help find away for you to live again. Your race does not have to die." | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | Before I was a ghost, I was a miraculous gentleman of great gravitas, a real stand outer. A thunderbolt incarnate that shocked and electrified every sap that I met. I could be put in the same room with any person, man or woman, and they would be proposing engagement in 5 minutes. I even had to cut off this one guy from ordering a wedding elephant. He was a funny bastard, I think his name was Frank, from Montana, working in power plant demolition. Anyways, long story short, I got power hungry and I sort of went all dictatorship and I won the highest body count medal, a religion popped up, and now I'm the Satan of it, well I'm not actually Lucifer, my name is You. Err no, wouldn't that be a great twist, something sort of grandiose and profoundish, but not really, my real name is Hal Holman. I blew up the moon, for my birthday, and the astroid belt that took it's place is called the Hal Holman Astroid Belt, I named it and it sort of stuck. | Steps to living forever...
I did not think it was possible and there are several of us. Beings... entities stuck in this limbo. Memories of us continuing on causing us to stay here, not through books or stone... that speak of our name. That is but a word... a word that does not hold the essence of who we are. It holds no memories, a name is a powerful thing... but only when attached to something.
An emotion, a livable moment... a video in my case.
In the age of cell phones that could record video... there was a time when this was not possible... I was a famous youtube artist as I liked to say. I interacted with my audience, spoke up about topics that mattered.
Now 15,000 years later the digital files that have been lost to the internet were at year 10,000 found by another alien race. A race that in the ruins of the Earth's digital life span, has taken a shine to studying the remnants of my race. Their intense studying of my videos, along with others, has kept me from dying.
It is as if they are obsessed. These beings cycle through videos, pictures, social profiles, and occasionally a virtual reality recording of peoples lives. None of them leave videos or lives unexplored... it is as if this action was important to them.
"Why can't you let us go?" I say in my limbo.
The being watching my video blinks and looks at me. Then in my language it says, "Because you are still alive to me and we wish to help find away for you to live again. Your race does not have to die." | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | I floated through the Himalayas seeking the Holy One. The last seer of the Temple of the Third Eye. The only being who could sense my presence and answer my eternal question.
Finally I saw the tiered roofs of a pagoda through the snowy mist. I had found the temple.
Free of a mortal body, I hastened through the ice and rocks, flying through ancient stone pillars and up winding stairs, until I reached the terrace where the Holy One meditated. His fragile naked body oblivious to the harsh winds that howled around his monastery.
I waited patiently as he contemplated eternity. It was almost a month before he finally acknowledged me.
"Your grace, I beseech you. Answer my one question" I pleaded. "Why is my spirit trapped on this mortal coil for all these millennia?"
The Holy One pondered long without answering.
"My time has long passed" I said. "Who still remembers me so deeply that their thoughts entwine me to this Earthly plane?"
It was a full week before the sage finally responded. His papery lips fluttered as he whispered to me.
"Listen closely Jesus, that middle eastern peace cult you started up fifteen thousand years ago has turned into the world's most dominant religion. Kids worship images of your grisly execution every damn day. No one is forgetting you in a hurry." | 17 / 04 / 17,054
26:63:11 PM
Right after my death, my girlfriend decided to become an astronaut during college. We were engaged, actually, and she didn't want to marry anyone after my death, afraid of if she'd have to go through another death as sudden to her as mine was. She didn't expect to hear, at 2 in the morning, that her fiancé was shot at point blank range, buying chemical packs on the black market, once all pure drug concentrates, including for whatever reason, caffeine, became illegal in 2028.
The health advances made in my lifetime caused people to not only live longer and reduce aging effects on the body, but to adapt to the sun's closer and more rapid radiation. In 2061, she became the first woman astronaut to drive a spacecraft outside of our galaxy, which caused her to land on another planet with a time and day cycle that isn't close to normal for us. I'm assuming she's still alive there and she made it habitable. Everyone on Earth that I've known has died, yet, some only died in the past 200 years. They lived longer than anyone before us. I wouldn't be surprised if there was a way she already knew of to live this long, especially since there has to be different minerals, chemicals, vitamins, and other beneficial ingredients that could sustain a long life.
Since I'm not alive, and not technically effected by gravity, I guess... we can go there. I can float up, up, up until all I see below me are swirling waves and white puffy plooms accumulating in the air above everything below. I float up, heading toward the moon first, to have a better view of where I thought I was headed. I get to the moon and float directly out, and I see out in the distance, a planet with a large light shining to Earth from outside the galaxy, one I can feel as if I had flesh. I start floating faster and faster, zooming through the cosmos, going until I can't anymore. I look at the planet, one that is green and blue from the look in the cosmos. I trust that this is it.
I get to a planet with jelly-like water and numerous creatures that vary from crawling and molding the sand-like material I'm standing on. The water material in the ocean looked and moved like water, yet the creatures around the planet could grab and move it without it falling. It's like the gravity on this planet is turned off for the water... kind of. Interesting.
I keep moving faster and faster toward the source of the light, still beaming off of this planet. I see the light go out and as soon as I do, I--... | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | "Go!" I commanded as I held up my sword, mentally preparing for my demise to guarantee enough time for my queen to escape. Hoards of enemies appeared on the horizon and quickly charged down as the rest of us began our retreat.
"Captain..." I shook my head. They knew that no amount of words will turn me back from my decision. They knew how stubborn I am.
"Make sure she lives..." I gave my second-in-command a bittersweet grin and with that, he nodded and departed. I stood at the designated choke point, where enemies could only come in few. I muttered a short prayer before engaging in combat.
Like a lone wolf fighting hoards of endless enemies, I hope that my death would at least serve somewhat of a purpose. A heroic death.
-------
*The world...has greatly changed...since my death...*
*I've seen... the world transform... from villages... to small towns... to giant cities...*
*I've seen war... the endless cycle... of humanity... Oh how ironic it is... for us to fight... rather than... cooperate...*
*I still ponder... at my semi-existence... why am I still here?... Is this... what afterlife... looks like...?*
*I doubt it... There's no one... but me and others... living beings... who are completely... unaware of me...*
*Many things I can do... Defies natural laws... go through physical beings... float and watch... like a spectator watching... the beautiful world... slowly and finally... working together...*
-------
Fellow men, the Empire dates back to the one man who saved us all. His bravery. His courage. His noble sacrifice is what continue us to this day. Let us learn from him.
Yes sir!
---------
Alright children, gather around. Here's a story about a legendary swordsman who risks his life for the greater good.
Oh! I love that story. My grandfather tells me that one all the time. I love it!
Now now Jack, let's not spoil it for others.
-------
"Haven't you heard, man?" Joe said as he kept drinking, now completely wasted, "That infamous legend of the warrior that managed to keep his queen alive by sacrificing himself. I aspire to be like that for Maddie."
"Shhh... You have too much to drink tonight. You and your love for history. You wouldn't want to do that for that crazy ex of yours."
-------
*Ah... Maybe it's not that bad... I hope I get to see... how much humanity... progresses into... the better future.*
| 17 / 04 / 17,054
26:63:11 PM
Right after my death, my girlfriend decided to become an astronaut during college. We were engaged, actually, and she didn't want to marry anyone after my death, afraid of if she'd have to go through another death as sudden to her as mine was. She didn't expect to hear, at 2 in the morning, that her fiancé was shot at point blank range, buying chemical packs on the black market, once all pure drug concentrates, including for whatever reason, caffeine, became illegal in 2028.
The health advances made in my lifetime caused people to not only live longer and reduce aging effects on the body, but to adapt to the sun's closer and more rapid radiation. In 2061, she became the first woman astronaut to drive a spacecraft outside of our galaxy, which caused her to land on another planet with a time and day cycle that isn't close to normal for us. I'm assuming she's still alive there and she made it habitable. Everyone on Earth that I've known has died, yet, some only died in the past 200 years. They lived longer than anyone before us. I wouldn't be surprised if there was a way she already knew of to live this long, especially since there has to be different minerals, chemicals, vitamins, and other beneficial ingredients that could sustain a long life.
Since I'm not alive, and not technically effected by gravity, I guess... we can go there. I can float up, up, up until all I see below me are swirling waves and white puffy plooms accumulating in the air above everything below. I float up, heading toward the moon first, to have a better view of where I thought I was headed. I get to the moon and float directly out, and I see out in the distance, a planet with a large light shining to Earth from outside the galaxy, one I can feel as if I had flesh. I start floating faster and faster, zooming through the cosmos, going until I can't anymore. I look at the planet, one that is green and blue from the look in the cosmos. I trust that this is it.
I get to a planet with jelly-like water and numerous creatures that vary from crawling and molding the sand-like material I'm standing on. The water material in the ocean looked and moved like water, yet the creatures around the planet could grab and move it without it falling. It's like the gravity on this planet is turned off for the water... kind of. Interesting.
I keep moving faster and faster toward the source of the light, still beaming off of this planet. I see the light go out and as soon as I do, I--... | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | "Well, this sucks, Bill."
"As I'm aware, for the millionth time" Bill sighed. For all Bill knew, Ted might actually be at the million mark now.
The two ghosts stared over the horizon as the sun set, golden rays washing over the peaceful Californian vineyard.
"Bill... Why..." Ted began to drawl, his eyes drooping with weariness.
"Look I told you, okay? It was an Accident. Acc-i-dent." Bill was visibly agitated, as well as a ghost can be.
"But.. it was just a container of mayonnaise?"
"Miracle whip, different stuff Ted"
Bill sighed again. No one could've expected that, in the horrific explosion of the Eureka Nuclear Power Plant, a single condiment jar would give everyone on the planet immortality. The setting sun, it would be back again. Like it has been for the past fifteen thousand years.
Before Bill could explain any more, the soft muffles of snoring forced his eyes off the horizon and onto his comrade. Ted was slouched over, drooling slightly.
"I really should've never put my name on it." Bill exclaimed out loud, but deep down he knew that he *hated* when anyone used his stuff. | 17 / 04 / 17,054
26:63:11 PM
Right after my death, my girlfriend decided to become an astronaut during college. We were engaged, actually, and she didn't want to marry anyone after my death, afraid of if she'd have to go through another death as sudden to her as mine was. She didn't expect to hear, at 2 in the morning, that her fiancé was shot at point blank range, buying chemical packs on the black market, once all pure drug concentrates, including for whatever reason, caffeine, became illegal in 2028.
The health advances made in my lifetime caused people to not only live longer and reduce aging effects on the body, but to adapt to the sun's closer and more rapid radiation. In 2061, she became the first woman astronaut to drive a spacecraft outside of our galaxy, which caused her to land on another planet with a time and day cycle that isn't close to normal for us. I'm assuming she's still alive there and she made it habitable. Everyone on Earth that I've known has died, yet, some only died in the past 200 years. They lived longer than anyone before us. I wouldn't be surprised if there was a way she already knew of to live this long, especially since there has to be different minerals, chemicals, vitamins, and other beneficial ingredients that could sustain a long life.
Since I'm not alive, and not technically effected by gravity, I guess... we can go there. I can float up, up, up until all I see below me are swirling waves and white puffy plooms accumulating in the air above everything below. I float up, heading toward the moon first, to have a better view of where I thought I was headed. I get to the moon and float directly out, and I see out in the distance, a planet with a large light shining to Earth from outside the galaxy, one I can feel as if I had flesh. I start floating faster and faster, zooming through the cosmos, going until I can't anymore. I look at the planet, one that is green and blue from the look in the cosmos. I trust that this is it.
I get to a planet with jelly-like water and numerous creatures that vary from crawling and molding the sand-like material I'm standing on. The water material in the ocean looked and moved like water, yet the creatures around the planet could grab and move it without it falling. It's like the gravity on this planet is turned off for the water... kind of. Interesting.
I keep moving faster and faster toward the source of the light, still beaming off of this planet. I see the light go out and as soon as I do, I--... | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | Getting your bearings, that's the tricky part; the handle on what you're experiencing, and how you're experiencing it. Once you open your eyes, and learn how to move your arms, you'd be surprised how far you can reach.
Sometimes, the ones that have nearly overcome the trauma of their journey stir a little to my words. I don't really know if they understand my meaning, or even struggled to comprehend the meaning behind my harsh noises. The real trouble was, none of them stuck around long enough to have the time to really open their eyes. A meager handful of centuries at best, before the gossamer strands of memory binding them together turned, inexorably, to dust.
I once knew a certain man, and more importantly, this man knows me. He never had wealth or fame, and honestly I can't recall even his name. The placing of terminally ill persons into a manner of stasis wasn't exactly a new idea, you see, but the hurdle of being able to reverse the process was overcome by some brilliant young mind whom I thank dearly.
And so it came to pass, after how long I cannot reckon, that I opened my eyes. Later still I would explore the breadth of my grasp, and find it tremendous. I set my will to ensuring that the man who knew me remained undisturbed. So long as the stars burned, they would fuel the machines that preserved a certain, unremarkable human.
It took only a few decades of influence. Sharing portions of my vision with those living bright enough to put it into action, as well as enticing ideas for possible wealth in investors took care of the rest. A group of some few hundred in stasis, including the man who remembered me, were transported to a bunker, miles deep and attended autonomously. The supplies in reserve would keep several hundred humans in stasis for over ten thousand years. Fortunately, the fortress was only ever designed to keep one person safe.
The armed revolt, which conveniently killed everyone with any knowledge the bunker's location, took less than five years to bloom.
Even now, mankind struggles to make the leap of harassing a significant portion of the sun's output. It will be enough for a few billion years, but that will do for now. | 17 / 04 / 17,054
26:63:11 PM
Right after my death, my girlfriend decided to become an astronaut during college. We were engaged, actually, and she didn't want to marry anyone after my death, afraid of if she'd have to go through another death as sudden to her as mine was. She didn't expect to hear, at 2 in the morning, that her fiancé was shot at point blank range, buying chemical packs on the black market, once all pure drug concentrates, including for whatever reason, caffeine, became illegal in 2028.
The health advances made in my lifetime caused people to not only live longer and reduce aging effects on the body, but to adapt to the sun's closer and more rapid radiation. In 2061, she became the first woman astronaut to drive a spacecraft outside of our galaxy, which caused her to land on another planet with a time and day cycle that isn't close to normal for us. I'm assuming she's still alive there and she made it habitable. Everyone on Earth that I've known has died, yet, some only died in the past 200 years. They lived longer than anyone before us. I wouldn't be surprised if there was a way she already knew of to live this long, especially since there has to be different minerals, chemicals, vitamins, and other beneficial ingredients that could sustain a long life.
Since I'm not alive, and not technically effected by gravity, I guess... we can go there. I can float up, up, up until all I see below me are swirling waves and white puffy plooms accumulating in the air above everything below. I float up, heading toward the moon first, to have a better view of where I thought I was headed. I get to the moon and float directly out, and I see out in the distance, a planet with a large light shining to Earth from outside the galaxy, one I can feel as if I had flesh. I start floating faster and faster, zooming through the cosmos, going until I can't anymore. I look at the planet, one that is green and blue from the look in the cosmos. I trust that this is it.
I get to a planet with jelly-like water and numerous creatures that vary from crawling and molding the sand-like material I'm standing on. The water material in the ocean looked and moved like water, yet the creatures around the planet could grab and move it without it falling. It's like the gravity on this planet is turned off for the water... kind of. Interesting.
I keep moving faster and faster toward the source of the light, still beaming off of this planet. I see the light go out and as soon as I do, I--... | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | **Dedication to Jim Morrison**
"I died on the sands of Singapore."
Melchiades had said
As he faded into darkness
With his only friend.
He lives, now, in crystal palaces
Where buildings shine like mirrors
Reflecting sunlight.
His words ride like violent storms
Across the open range.
They burn like mercury
In the old black crucible
You have found immortality my friend.
Enjoy it.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
NOTE: This was a very old poem I've written during a weird time where I had a little bit of an obsession with 100 Years of Solitude and The Doors (The 60s in general). When I read the prompt I thought about this poem. Whether its good or not I have no idea. At the time of writing the poem I wrote about 200 or so others, Some okay. Others not so much. | 17 / 04 / 17,054
26:63:11 PM
Right after my death, my girlfriend decided to become an astronaut during college. We were engaged, actually, and she didn't want to marry anyone after my death, afraid of if she'd have to go through another death as sudden to her as mine was. She didn't expect to hear, at 2 in the morning, that her fiancé was shot at point blank range, buying chemical packs on the black market, once all pure drug concentrates, including for whatever reason, caffeine, became illegal in 2028.
The health advances made in my lifetime caused people to not only live longer and reduce aging effects on the body, but to adapt to the sun's closer and more rapid radiation. In 2061, she became the first woman astronaut to drive a spacecraft outside of our galaxy, which caused her to land on another planet with a time and day cycle that isn't close to normal for us. I'm assuming she's still alive there and she made it habitable. Everyone on Earth that I've known has died, yet, some only died in the past 200 years. They lived longer than anyone before us. I wouldn't be surprised if there was a way she already knew of to live this long, especially since there has to be different minerals, chemicals, vitamins, and other beneficial ingredients that could sustain a long life.
Since I'm not alive, and not technically effected by gravity, I guess... we can go there. I can float up, up, up until all I see below me are swirling waves and white puffy plooms accumulating in the air above everything below. I float up, heading toward the moon first, to have a better view of where I thought I was headed. I get to the moon and float directly out, and I see out in the distance, a planet with a large light shining to Earth from outside the galaxy, one I can feel as if I had flesh. I start floating faster and faster, zooming through the cosmos, going until I can't anymore. I look at the planet, one that is green and blue from the look in the cosmos. I trust that this is it.
I get to a planet with jelly-like water and numerous creatures that vary from crawling and molding the sand-like material I'm standing on. The water material in the ocean looked and moved like water, yet the creatures around the planet could grab and move it without it falling. It's like the gravity on this planet is turned off for the water... kind of. Interesting.
I keep moving faster and faster toward the source of the light, still beaming off of this planet. I see the light go out and as soon as I do, I--... | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | I have been on this planet for the last 15k years. They say that the soul transfers to the next dimension when you are the forgotten past. Every year the portal closes on me on the same day, January 1. The one day I look forward to seeing. But these mortals refuse to forget me. I have seen progress, when I was alive, I used to roam around in a bullock cart and now I see the people of this generation teleport. It is highly ironic that when I was alive, the only thing I wanted was to become immortal, rich and a legend that nobody forgets.
But that has come to bite me in my ass. Death has simplified things, all my friends have passed away to the next dimension but I am still here, because of that one man I save all those years ago when I was barely twenty years old. I was going home, walking on the road, unlike the kids of this generation who just teleport where ever they want, our generation had to actually walk. In a dark corner, I saw a man. I thought he was an addict which is why I did not look at him and kept walking ahead. But he called me, "Excuse me."
I pretended to not hear him and quickened my pace.
But I heard him wail, again. "Excuse me, I think I am having a stroke. Do you have water?"
My entire outlook changed when I saw death standing in front me me in his form, I thought of my parents, friends and saw them in the wailing man. I ran to my home to fetch some water, luckily enough, I lived at a stone's throw distance from the man. I got him water and he sat down. It turned out that he had diabetes and he was not having a heart attack.
He asked me to stay with him until his family arrived, and they did, in an Audi A7. I had never seen an Audi this closely in life, it turned out that he was a big politician who was strolling and not a drug addict.
Politicians in India have a big following among the working class and this man said he saw God in me and that was the day he started spreading the rumour that I was the last avatar of Lord kalki and because he was a famous politician, these stupid people started praying to me and overnight I became a godman despite the fact that I did not want anything to do with him. He gave me his Audi as a gift for saving his life and even though I refused, he parked it in front of my home and hung the key in my door.
His followers formed a huge line for touching my feet for the better part of the year and I had to ask him to tell them to stop. I started another rumour and they did stop. But they did not stop praying about me and thinking about me. One lunatic god fearing follower of the politician built a temple in my name and there is an actual priest who sits there, it is apparently a big business.
When I was on my deathbed, I hoped that it would die with me, but after my death, the myth of my power (I did not have any) just grew exponentially, some claimed to see me fly, some said I teleported and what not and 1k years later I became an actual God. They prayed to Lord Ganesh and me at the same time. 15k years later, they wrote books about my mythical superpowers and some even claimed that I was the Godhead.
There is no hope left for me now to be released from this world, I am doomed to stay here, as a spirit, powerless to do anything at all.
All this for saving a life. | 17 / 04 / 17,054
26:63:11 PM
Right after my death, my girlfriend decided to become an astronaut during college. We were engaged, actually, and she didn't want to marry anyone after my death, afraid of if she'd have to go through another death as sudden to her as mine was. She didn't expect to hear, at 2 in the morning, that her fiancé was shot at point blank range, buying chemical packs on the black market, once all pure drug concentrates, including for whatever reason, caffeine, became illegal in 2028.
The health advances made in my lifetime caused people to not only live longer and reduce aging effects on the body, but to adapt to the sun's closer and more rapid radiation. In 2061, she became the first woman astronaut to drive a spacecraft outside of our galaxy, which caused her to land on another planet with a time and day cycle that isn't close to normal for us. I'm assuming she's still alive there and she made it habitable. Everyone on Earth that I've known has died, yet, some only died in the past 200 years. They lived longer than anyone before us. I wouldn't be surprised if there was a way she already knew of to live this long, especially since there has to be different minerals, chemicals, vitamins, and other beneficial ingredients that could sustain a long life.
Since I'm not alive, and not technically effected by gravity, I guess... we can go there. I can float up, up, up until all I see below me are swirling waves and white puffy plooms accumulating in the air above everything below. I float up, heading toward the moon first, to have a better view of where I thought I was headed. I get to the moon and float directly out, and I see out in the distance, a planet with a large light shining to Earth from outside the galaxy, one I can feel as if I had flesh. I start floating faster and faster, zooming through the cosmos, going until I can't anymore. I look at the planet, one that is green and blue from the look in the cosmos. I trust that this is it.
I get to a planet with jelly-like water and numerous creatures that vary from crawling and molding the sand-like material I'm standing on. The water material in the ocean looked and moved like water, yet the creatures around the planet could grab and move it without it falling. It's like the gravity on this planet is turned off for the water... kind of. Interesting.
I keep moving faster and faster toward the source of the light, still beaming off of this planet. I see the light go out and as soon as I do, I--... | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | "Well then."
Being informed that you are still remembered 15,000 years after your death should seem pretty awesome. I guess it was, after a fashion.
"I just wish it had been for something other than eating that Golden Corral into bankruptcy." I sighed. | 17 / 04 / 17,054
26:63:11 PM
Right after my death, my girlfriend decided to become an astronaut during college. We were engaged, actually, and she didn't want to marry anyone after my death, afraid of if she'd have to go through another death as sudden to her as mine was. She didn't expect to hear, at 2 in the morning, that her fiancé was shot at point blank range, buying chemical packs on the black market, once all pure drug concentrates, including for whatever reason, caffeine, became illegal in 2028.
The health advances made in my lifetime caused people to not only live longer and reduce aging effects on the body, but to adapt to the sun's closer and more rapid radiation. In 2061, she became the first woman astronaut to drive a spacecraft outside of our galaxy, which caused her to land on another planet with a time and day cycle that isn't close to normal for us. I'm assuming she's still alive there and she made it habitable. Everyone on Earth that I've known has died, yet, some only died in the past 200 years. They lived longer than anyone before us. I wouldn't be surprised if there was a way she already knew of to live this long, especially since there has to be different minerals, chemicals, vitamins, and other beneficial ingredients that could sustain a long life.
Since I'm not alive, and not technically effected by gravity, I guess... we can go there. I can float up, up, up until all I see below me are swirling waves and white puffy plooms accumulating in the air above everything below. I float up, heading toward the moon first, to have a better view of where I thought I was headed. I get to the moon and float directly out, and I see out in the distance, a planet with a large light shining to Earth from outside the galaxy, one I can feel as if I had flesh. I start floating faster and faster, zooming through the cosmos, going until I can't anymore. I look at the planet, one that is green and blue from the look in the cosmos. I trust that this is it.
I get to a planet with jelly-like water and numerous creatures that vary from crawling and molding the sand-like material I'm standing on. The water material in the ocean looked and moved like water, yet the creatures around the planet could grab and move it without it falling. It's like the gravity on this planet is turned off for the water... kind of. Interesting.
I keep moving faster and faster toward the source of the light, still beaming off of this planet. I see the light go out and as soon as I do, I--... | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | Anna’s Ghost
***
“Anna, can you hear me?” I asked.
“What?” my only daughter answered drearily. She was slumped over her dining table. Her eyes were red. It was late. She had been crying.
“Anna, it’s me,” I said. I put all my strength into being heard. Into existing.
“Oh my goodness, dad?” Suddenly, Anna was alert. She stood up and began to pace back and forth. “No! There’s no way that’s you. Gosh, I must be going crazy!”
“Anna, you’re not crazy! Listen to me!”
Anna shook her head. “No, I can’t entertain delusions! You’re not real! I’m just hallucinating because it’s one year since you died. My boss said I should see a psychiatrist after I had the breakdown. I didn’t listen.”
I didn’t want to see Anna like this. I wanted her to smile again. She hadn’t smiled once since I died.
“Anna… It doesn’t matter if you think I’m real or not. I just want to tell you something. I’ve seen you hurting. I know you feel like you failed, and-”
“I did fail, dad! After mum died, I spent my life trying to save you! And I failed!”
“Anna, I know what failure feels like. Believe me, I’ve had my fair share. But I’ve seen you grow, and you have been my proudest achievement. It hurts to see you go through this. You have mourned, and it is time to move on and finish your work.”
I must have struck a chord, because Anna paused and sat down again. “My work…” she muttered.
Anna was the smartest person I’d ever known, and that’s not just my pride as a father speaking. She was very young when her mother died, and I suppose she never accepted it. She became a biotechnical researcher, and she spent her life working on unlocking human immortality. Her research was her passion at the expense of all else. To her, my death was more than the loss of a loved one. It was the failure of her life’s work.
“Anna, listen,” I began. “There are so many more people out there who need you now. Just before I died, you told me you were so close to a breakthrough. You told me to hang on. I was in awe, you know? In awe at what an amazing person you’d become.” I chuckled at the memory. I don’t know if Anna could hear my chuckle, but a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and my heart soared. “Please, do this for me. You always seemed happiest when you were at work. I want to see that again.”
I stayed with Anna that night, and we talked until the sun rose.
The next day, she applied to return to her old position on the research team. They had been utterly lost without her, and they accepted her immediately.
***
Within a decade, human immortality was viable, and Anna became the world’s most famous scientist. She was never accustomed to the spotlight, and I think she found it more daunting than anything she had faced in her work. Her auburn hair turned a silvery grey.
In the meantime, I met other ghosts. From their experience, they explained that ghosts remained on Earth for as long as they were remembered. Very few ghosts were able to make themselves heard. I was one of the lucky ones. A few of the ghosts were social, but most kept to themselves. It didn’t matter much to me. I had been social in life, but in death I felt comfort in isolation.
I even met Anna’s mother again. She was happy, albeit apprehensive, to see me. All the problems we’d experienced in life felt like a bad dream. We spoke for a great length, and then enjoyed each other’s company in silence.
***
Anna had wanted to die. With no living family, and no close friends, she felt that she had given her gift to humanity and was ready to leave.
“When I die, I’ll be with my parents,” she told the media. Her wishes were met with great protest. A mind like hers shouldn’t die, the media said. I was inclined to agree, but Anna would have none of it. She had made peace with her end. She said she wanted to join me and her mother on the other side.
It was the strangest thing that convinced her to live. I had told her that ghosts disappear when they are forgotten. Anna asked me what happens to ghosts after they disappear, but I had no idea. Anna was the one who pieced it together.
“So, after I die, who will be alive to remember you and mum? Eventually, you’ll disappear. But I won’t join you. I’ll never disappear, because everyone alive knows my name and, thanks to me, they’ll never die.”
That was the reason for her choice, and it showed how much she truly loved her mother and me. The truth was that, even though I had wanted Anna to live forever, I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do. Maybe that’s just me and my old fashioned ways.
I stayed by her side for thousands of years.
***
Humanity spread across the universe. My dearest Anna was appointed as a scientific advisor to the Federation of the Milky Way, the most densely populated and economically active human federation in the universe.
Every few decades, Anna set aside a year to spend time with me and her mother. Humanity’s languages had long since evolved into forms we could not understand, but Anna spoke to us in the version of English we had used when I was alive. It was a simple gesture, so that I did not have to trouble myself learning new dialects every few centuries, but I always felt touched.
Unfortunately, this did not last forever.
Fifteen thousand years after my death, Anna told me that the hardware in her brain had long ago reached the physical limits of the universe, and it was it now packed to its capacity. Any information she wished to gain, she had to erase something else from her mind.
“There’s a lot of processing power in my mind,” she told me. “I’ve been using it to make sense of the crazy amount of policies that the government implements for the Galaxy. Most people have regular memory clean-ups every decade. I need to forget, or my mind is going to stagnate.”
“What are you saying?” I asked, but I knew. My mind was like a termite compared to hers, but I could understand enough. She needed to erase memories that were least relevant to her current life – the memories of her life fifteen thousand years ago. Her mother and I would disappear.
Eventually, I spoke. “Anna, I’m so proud of all the good you’ve done for humanity, and everything you’ve created. It’s more than what I ever thought was humanly possible. If this is going to be a goodbye, then I’m happy for the fifteen thousand years we’ve shared.”
Anna was silent.
***
Eventually, my last day came.
Anna organised her memory clean-up. It was going to be precise. Her mind would be in peak condition afterwards. The androids who perform such procedures sensed her apprehension, and they gave her words of comfort. She didn’t say anything in response.
Just as the procedure was about to begin, Anna signalled for the androids to stop.
The androids seemed puzzled, and they asked her something in their foreign syntax. I had no idea what their question was, but Anna responded in a version of English I understood.
“No.”
***
Epilogue:
Human self-terminations were rare, but they were known to happen.
Anna’s last wish was that her self-termination was not to be publicised. She requested that all records of her existence be removed from the public archives. All her work and achievements, spanning fifteen millennia of scientific and political progress, were to be reattributed to Anna’s colleague, who was happy to take the credit.
After Anna’s death, she remained as a ghost, sustained by the memories of the people who knew her personally. As centuries passed, the memories of those people were cleaned up and overwritten. Eventually, Anna faded.
Her last hope as a ghost was that she would see her parents again on the other side, if one existed. | 17 / 04 / 17,054
26:63:11 PM
Right after my death, my girlfriend decided to become an astronaut during college. We were engaged, actually, and she didn't want to marry anyone after my death, afraid of if she'd have to go through another death as sudden to her as mine was. She didn't expect to hear, at 2 in the morning, that her fiancé was shot at point blank range, buying chemical packs on the black market, once all pure drug concentrates, including for whatever reason, caffeine, became illegal in 2028.
The health advances made in my lifetime caused people to not only live longer and reduce aging effects on the body, but to adapt to the sun's closer and more rapid radiation. In 2061, she became the first woman astronaut to drive a spacecraft outside of our galaxy, which caused her to land on another planet with a time and day cycle that isn't close to normal for us. I'm assuming she's still alive there and she made it habitable. Everyone on Earth that I've known has died, yet, some only died in the past 200 years. They lived longer than anyone before us. I wouldn't be surprised if there was a way she already knew of to live this long, especially since there has to be different minerals, chemicals, vitamins, and other beneficial ingredients that could sustain a long life.
Since I'm not alive, and not technically effected by gravity, I guess... we can go there. I can float up, up, up until all I see below me are swirling waves and white puffy plooms accumulating in the air above everything below. I float up, heading toward the moon first, to have a better view of where I thought I was headed. I get to the moon and float directly out, and I see out in the distance, a planet with a large light shining to Earth from outside the galaxy, one I can feel as if I had flesh. I start floating faster and faster, zooming through the cosmos, going until I can't anymore. I look at the planet, one that is green and blue from the look in the cosmos. I trust that this is it.
I get to a planet with jelly-like water and numerous creatures that vary from crawling and molding the sand-like material I'm standing on. The water material in the ocean looked and moved like water, yet the creatures around the planet could grab and move it without it falling. It's like the gravity on this planet is turned off for the water... kind of. Interesting.
I keep moving faster and faster toward the source of the light, still beaming off of this planet. I see the light go out and as soon as I do, I--... | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | Before I was a ghost, I was a miraculous gentleman of great gravitas, a real stand outer. A thunderbolt incarnate that shocked and electrified every sap that I met. I could be put in the same room with any person, man or woman, and they would be proposing engagement in 5 minutes. I even had to cut off this one guy from ordering a wedding elephant. He was a funny bastard, I think his name was Frank, from Montana, working in power plant demolition. Anyways, long story short, I got power hungry and I sort of went all dictatorship and I won the highest body count medal, a religion popped up, and now I'm the Satan of it, well I'm not actually Lucifer, my name is You. Err no, wouldn't that be a great twist, something sort of grandiose and profoundish, but not really, my real name is Hal Holman. I blew up the moon, for my birthday, and the astroid belt that took it's place is called the Hal Holman Astroid Belt, I named it and it sort of stuck. | 17 / 04 / 17,054
26:63:11 PM
Right after my death, my girlfriend decided to become an astronaut during college. We were engaged, actually, and she didn't want to marry anyone after my death, afraid of if she'd have to go through another death as sudden to her as mine was. She didn't expect to hear, at 2 in the morning, that her fiancé was shot at point blank range, buying chemical packs on the black market, once all pure drug concentrates, including for whatever reason, caffeine, became illegal in 2028.
The health advances made in my lifetime caused people to not only live longer and reduce aging effects on the body, but to adapt to the sun's closer and more rapid radiation. In 2061, she became the first woman astronaut to drive a spacecraft outside of our galaxy, which caused her to land on another planet with a time and day cycle that isn't close to normal for us. I'm assuming she's still alive there and she made it habitable. Everyone on Earth that I've known has died, yet, some only died in the past 200 years. They lived longer than anyone before us. I wouldn't be surprised if there was a way she already knew of to live this long, especially since there has to be different minerals, chemicals, vitamins, and other beneficial ingredients that could sustain a long life.
Since I'm not alive, and not technically effected by gravity, I guess... we can go there. I can float up, up, up until all I see below me are swirling waves and white puffy plooms accumulating in the air above everything below. I float up, heading toward the moon first, to have a better view of where I thought I was headed. I get to the moon and float directly out, and I see out in the distance, a planet with a large light shining to Earth from outside the galaxy, one I can feel as if I had flesh. I start floating faster and faster, zooming through the cosmos, going until I can't anymore. I look at the planet, one that is green and blue from the look in the cosmos. I trust that this is it.
I get to a planet with jelly-like water and numerous creatures that vary from crawling and molding the sand-like material I'm standing on. The water material in the ocean looked and moved like water, yet the creatures around the planet could grab and move it without it falling. It's like the gravity on this planet is turned off for the water... kind of. Interesting.
I keep moving faster and faster toward the source of the light, still beaming off of this planet. I see the light go out and as soon as I do, I--... | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | I floated through the Himalayas seeking the Holy One. The last seer of the Temple of the Third Eye. The only being who could sense my presence and answer my eternal question.
Finally I saw the tiered roofs of a pagoda through the snowy mist. I had found the temple.
Free of a mortal body, I hastened through the ice and rocks, flying through ancient stone pillars and up winding stairs, until I reached the terrace where the Holy One meditated. His fragile naked body oblivious to the harsh winds that howled around his monastery.
I waited patiently as he contemplated eternity. It was almost a month before he finally acknowledged me.
"Your grace, I beseech you. Answer my one question" I pleaded. "Why is my spirit trapped on this mortal coil for all these millennia?"
The Holy One pondered long without answering.
"My time has long passed" I said. "Who still remembers me so deeply that their thoughts entwine me to this Earthly plane?"
It was a full week before the sage finally responded. His papery lips fluttered as he whispered to me.
"Listen closely Jesus, that middle eastern peace cult you started up fifteen thousand years ago has turned into the world's most dominant religion. Kids worship images of your grisly execution every damn day. No one is forgetting you in a hurry." | It was just a small piece of graffiti carved into an outcropping near the Missouri River back in 2072. No one really knew anything about Ben Johnson or who he was other than he apparently had taken a class in 2072. There was other Graffiti as well such as "For a good time call this number" or "Fuck Tecumseh-Go Tigers" carved into this cave that was known to the locals as Indian Cave. There also were petroglyphs but no one could read those. But Ben Johnson had been one of the few to carve his name on the part of the cave that was most visible, and did so in letters three feet high.
Since not much had been able to carve through the solid rock, which was visible from the road about 20 feet below. People saw Ben Johnson's name as they drove through the park. It had survived two ice ages and a number of wars, but somehow, this outcropping of Indian Rock with "Ben Johnson- Class of 2072."
For years people had searched in vain but records had been lost in the great Dakota fire of 3030 and as well as in numerous Tornadoes and of course the great war of 13448 which nearly destroyed the planet. Yet the rock remained. It even gave name to the two towns nearby. Benstown and Johnsonville. People apparently thought he was important enough to remember not just with the rock, but with towns founded not even a century ago.
It was a tradition for the students of the Benstown-Johnsonville consolidated schools to crawl up the rock and touch the letters. And it was on that night that Apple Turnbuckle, a senior at the school climbed up. Most of her classmates simply used jetpacks to reach the top but Apple was a tough cookie and decided to climb like her father, mother, and grandfather had done.
Apple made the somewhat difficult climb to the top but once there, she saw something that until then was an urban legend. She saw a shadowy figure wearing a sort of hooded garment and blue colored pants that looked a tad odd. He seemed to be just sitting there though, and didn't say anything, but when Apple looked at him, he turned to look at her.
She said "who are you?" and he said "Well i'm Ben Johnson. And i'm stuck here on this rock"
She then tried to climb down. Johnson's ghost however just stayed on the rock . He then said "why the hell won't people just let me be!" | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | "Go!" I commanded as I held up my sword, mentally preparing for my demise to guarantee enough time for my queen to escape. Hoards of enemies appeared on the horizon and quickly charged down as the rest of us began our retreat.
"Captain..." I shook my head. They knew that no amount of words will turn me back from my decision. They knew how stubborn I am.
"Make sure she lives..." I gave my second-in-command a bittersweet grin and with that, he nodded and departed. I stood at the designated choke point, where enemies could only come in few. I muttered a short prayer before engaging in combat.
Like a lone wolf fighting hoards of endless enemies, I hope that my death would at least serve somewhat of a purpose. A heroic death.
-------
*The world...has greatly changed...since my death...*
*I've seen... the world transform... from villages... to small towns... to giant cities...*
*I've seen war... the endless cycle... of humanity... Oh how ironic it is... for us to fight... rather than... cooperate...*
*I still ponder... at my semi-existence... why am I still here?... Is this... what afterlife... looks like...?*
*I doubt it... There's no one... but me and others... living beings... who are completely... unaware of me...*
*Many things I can do... Defies natural laws... go through physical beings... float and watch... like a spectator watching... the beautiful world... slowly and finally... working together...*
-------
Fellow men, the Empire dates back to the one man who saved us all. His bravery. His courage. His noble sacrifice is what continue us to this day. Let us learn from him.
Yes sir!
---------
Alright children, gather around. Here's a story about a legendary swordsman who risks his life for the greater good.
Oh! I love that story. My grandfather tells me that one all the time. I love it!
Now now Jack, let's not spoil it for others.
-------
"Haven't you heard, man?" Joe said as he kept drinking, now completely wasted, "That infamous legend of the warrior that managed to keep his queen alive by sacrificing himself. I aspire to be like that for Maddie."
"Shhh... You have too much to drink tonight. You and your love for history. You wouldn't want to do that for that crazy ex of yours."
-------
*Ah... Maybe it's not that bad... I hope I get to see... how much humanity... progresses into... the better future.*
| It was just a small piece of graffiti carved into an outcropping near the Missouri River back in 2072. No one really knew anything about Ben Johnson or who he was other than he apparently had taken a class in 2072. There was other Graffiti as well such as "For a good time call this number" or "Fuck Tecumseh-Go Tigers" carved into this cave that was known to the locals as Indian Cave. There also were petroglyphs but no one could read those. But Ben Johnson had been one of the few to carve his name on the part of the cave that was most visible, and did so in letters three feet high.
Since not much had been able to carve through the solid rock, which was visible from the road about 20 feet below. People saw Ben Johnson's name as they drove through the park. It had survived two ice ages and a number of wars, but somehow, this outcropping of Indian Rock with "Ben Johnson- Class of 2072."
For years people had searched in vain but records had been lost in the great Dakota fire of 3030 and as well as in numerous Tornadoes and of course the great war of 13448 which nearly destroyed the planet. Yet the rock remained. It even gave name to the two towns nearby. Benstown and Johnsonville. People apparently thought he was important enough to remember not just with the rock, but with towns founded not even a century ago.
It was a tradition for the students of the Benstown-Johnsonville consolidated schools to crawl up the rock and touch the letters. And it was on that night that Apple Turnbuckle, a senior at the school climbed up. Most of her classmates simply used jetpacks to reach the top but Apple was a tough cookie and decided to climb like her father, mother, and grandfather had done.
Apple made the somewhat difficult climb to the top but once there, she saw something that until then was an urban legend. She saw a shadowy figure wearing a sort of hooded garment and blue colored pants that looked a tad odd. He seemed to be just sitting there though, and didn't say anything, but when Apple looked at him, he turned to look at her.
She said "who are you?" and he said "Well i'm Ben Johnson. And i'm stuck here on this rock"
She then tried to climb down. Johnson's ghost however just stayed on the rock . He then said "why the hell won't people just let me be!" | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | "Well, this sucks, Bill."
"As I'm aware, for the millionth time" Bill sighed. For all Bill knew, Ted might actually be at the million mark now.
The two ghosts stared over the horizon as the sun set, golden rays washing over the peaceful Californian vineyard.
"Bill... Why..." Ted began to drawl, his eyes drooping with weariness.
"Look I told you, okay? It was an Accident. Acc-i-dent." Bill was visibly agitated, as well as a ghost can be.
"But.. it was just a container of mayonnaise?"
"Miracle whip, different stuff Ted"
Bill sighed again. No one could've expected that, in the horrific explosion of the Eureka Nuclear Power Plant, a single condiment jar would give everyone on the planet immortality. The setting sun, it would be back again. Like it has been for the past fifteen thousand years.
Before Bill could explain any more, the soft muffles of snoring forced his eyes off the horizon and onto his comrade. Ted was slouched over, drooling slightly.
"I really should've never put my name on it." Bill exclaimed out loud, but deep down he knew that he *hated* when anyone used his stuff. | It was just a small piece of graffiti carved into an outcropping near the Missouri River back in 2072. No one really knew anything about Ben Johnson or who he was other than he apparently had taken a class in 2072. There was other Graffiti as well such as "For a good time call this number" or "Fuck Tecumseh-Go Tigers" carved into this cave that was known to the locals as Indian Cave. There also were petroglyphs but no one could read those. But Ben Johnson had been one of the few to carve his name on the part of the cave that was most visible, and did so in letters three feet high.
Since not much had been able to carve through the solid rock, which was visible from the road about 20 feet below. People saw Ben Johnson's name as they drove through the park. It had survived two ice ages and a number of wars, but somehow, this outcropping of Indian Rock with "Ben Johnson- Class of 2072."
For years people had searched in vain but records had been lost in the great Dakota fire of 3030 and as well as in numerous Tornadoes and of course the great war of 13448 which nearly destroyed the planet. Yet the rock remained. It even gave name to the two towns nearby. Benstown and Johnsonville. People apparently thought he was important enough to remember not just with the rock, but with towns founded not even a century ago.
It was a tradition for the students of the Benstown-Johnsonville consolidated schools to crawl up the rock and touch the letters. And it was on that night that Apple Turnbuckle, a senior at the school climbed up. Most of her classmates simply used jetpacks to reach the top but Apple was a tough cookie and decided to climb like her father, mother, and grandfather had done.
Apple made the somewhat difficult climb to the top but once there, she saw something that until then was an urban legend. She saw a shadowy figure wearing a sort of hooded garment and blue colored pants that looked a tad odd. He seemed to be just sitting there though, and didn't say anything, but when Apple looked at him, he turned to look at her.
She said "who are you?" and he said "Well i'm Ben Johnson. And i'm stuck here on this rock"
She then tried to climb down. Johnson's ghost however just stayed on the rock . He then said "why the hell won't people just let me be!" | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | Getting your bearings, that's the tricky part; the handle on what you're experiencing, and how you're experiencing it. Once you open your eyes, and learn how to move your arms, you'd be surprised how far you can reach.
Sometimes, the ones that have nearly overcome the trauma of their journey stir a little to my words. I don't really know if they understand my meaning, or even struggled to comprehend the meaning behind my harsh noises. The real trouble was, none of them stuck around long enough to have the time to really open their eyes. A meager handful of centuries at best, before the gossamer strands of memory binding them together turned, inexorably, to dust.
I once knew a certain man, and more importantly, this man knows me. He never had wealth or fame, and honestly I can't recall even his name. The placing of terminally ill persons into a manner of stasis wasn't exactly a new idea, you see, but the hurdle of being able to reverse the process was overcome by some brilliant young mind whom I thank dearly.
And so it came to pass, after how long I cannot reckon, that I opened my eyes. Later still I would explore the breadth of my grasp, and find it tremendous. I set my will to ensuring that the man who knew me remained undisturbed. So long as the stars burned, they would fuel the machines that preserved a certain, unremarkable human.
It took only a few decades of influence. Sharing portions of my vision with those living bright enough to put it into action, as well as enticing ideas for possible wealth in investors took care of the rest. A group of some few hundred in stasis, including the man who remembered me, were transported to a bunker, miles deep and attended autonomously. The supplies in reserve would keep several hundred humans in stasis for over ten thousand years. Fortunately, the fortress was only ever designed to keep one person safe.
The armed revolt, which conveniently killed everyone with any knowledge the bunker's location, took less than five years to bloom.
Even now, mankind struggles to make the leap of harassing a significant portion of the sun's output. It will be enough for a few billion years, but that will do for now. | It was just a small piece of graffiti carved into an outcropping near the Missouri River back in 2072. No one really knew anything about Ben Johnson or who he was other than he apparently had taken a class in 2072. There was other Graffiti as well such as "For a good time call this number" or "Fuck Tecumseh-Go Tigers" carved into this cave that was known to the locals as Indian Cave. There also were petroglyphs but no one could read those. But Ben Johnson had been one of the few to carve his name on the part of the cave that was most visible, and did so in letters three feet high.
Since not much had been able to carve through the solid rock, which was visible from the road about 20 feet below. People saw Ben Johnson's name as they drove through the park. It had survived two ice ages and a number of wars, but somehow, this outcropping of Indian Rock with "Ben Johnson- Class of 2072."
For years people had searched in vain but records had been lost in the great Dakota fire of 3030 and as well as in numerous Tornadoes and of course the great war of 13448 which nearly destroyed the planet. Yet the rock remained. It even gave name to the two towns nearby. Benstown and Johnsonville. People apparently thought he was important enough to remember not just with the rock, but with towns founded not even a century ago.
It was a tradition for the students of the Benstown-Johnsonville consolidated schools to crawl up the rock and touch the letters. And it was on that night that Apple Turnbuckle, a senior at the school climbed up. Most of her classmates simply used jetpacks to reach the top but Apple was a tough cookie and decided to climb like her father, mother, and grandfather had done.
Apple made the somewhat difficult climb to the top but once there, she saw something that until then was an urban legend. She saw a shadowy figure wearing a sort of hooded garment and blue colored pants that looked a tad odd. He seemed to be just sitting there though, and didn't say anything, but when Apple looked at him, he turned to look at her.
She said "who are you?" and he said "Well i'm Ben Johnson. And i'm stuck here on this rock"
She then tried to climb down. Johnson's ghost however just stayed on the rock . He then said "why the hell won't people just let me be!" | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | **Dedication to Jim Morrison**
"I died on the sands of Singapore."
Melchiades had said
As he faded into darkness
With his only friend.
He lives, now, in crystal palaces
Where buildings shine like mirrors
Reflecting sunlight.
His words ride like violent storms
Across the open range.
They burn like mercury
In the old black crucible
You have found immortality my friend.
Enjoy it.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
NOTE: This was a very old poem I've written during a weird time where I had a little bit of an obsession with 100 Years of Solitude and The Doors (The 60s in general). When I read the prompt I thought about this poem. Whether its good or not I have no idea. At the time of writing the poem I wrote about 200 or so others, Some okay. Others not so much. | It was just a small piece of graffiti carved into an outcropping near the Missouri River back in 2072. No one really knew anything about Ben Johnson or who he was other than he apparently had taken a class in 2072. There was other Graffiti as well such as "For a good time call this number" or "Fuck Tecumseh-Go Tigers" carved into this cave that was known to the locals as Indian Cave. There also were petroglyphs but no one could read those. But Ben Johnson had been one of the few to carve his name on the part of the cave that was most visible, and did so in letters three feet high.
Since not much had been able to carve through the solid rock, which was visible from the road about 20 feet below. People saw Ben Johnson's name as they drove through the park. It had survived two ice ages and a number of wars, but somehow, this outcropping of Indian Rock with "Ben Johnson- Class of 2072."
For years people had searched in vain but records had been lost in the great Dakota fire of 3030 and as well as in numerous Tornadoes and of course the great war of 13448 which nearly destroyed the planet. Yet the rock remained. It even gave name to the two towns nearby. Benstown and Johnsonville. People apparently thought he was important enough to remember not just with the rock, but with towns founded not even a century ago.
It was a tradition for the students of the Benstown-Johnsonville consolidated schools to crawl up the rock and touch the letters. And it was on that night that Apple Turnbuckle, a senior at the school climbed up. Most of her classmates simply used jetpacks to reach the top but Apple was a tough cookie and decided to climb like her father, mother, and grandfather had done.
Apple made the somewhat difficult climb to the top but once there, she saw something that until then was an urban legend. She saw a shadowy figure wearing a sort of hooded garment and blue colored pants that looked a tad odd. He seemed to be just sitting there though, and didn't say anything, but when Apple looked at him, he turned to look at her.
She said "who are you?" and he said "Well i'm Ben Johnson. And i'm stuck here on this rock"
She then tried to climb down. Johnson's ghost however just stayed on the rock . He then said "why the hell won't people just let me be!" | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | I have been on this planet for the last 15k years. They say that the soul transfers to the next dimension when you are the forgotten past. Every year the portal closes on me on the same day, January 1. The one day I look forward to seeing. But these mortals refuse to forget me. I have seen progress, when I was alive, I used to roam around in a bullock cart and now I see the people of this generation teleport. It is highly ironic that when I was alive, the only thing I wanted was to become immortal, rich and a legend that nobody forgets.
But that has come to bite me in my ass. Death has simplified things, all my friends have passed away to the next dimension but I am still here, because of that one man I save all those years ago when I was barely twenty years old. I was going home, walking on the road, unlike the kids of this generation who just teleport where ever they want, our generation had to actually walk. In a dark corner, I saw a man. I thought he was an addict which is why I did not look at him and kept walking ahead. But he called me, "Excuse me."
I pretended to not hear him and quickened my pace.
But I heard him wail, again. "Excuse me, I think I am having a stroke. Do you have water?"
My entire outlook changed when I saw death standing in front me me in his form, I thought of my parents, friends and saw them in the wailing man. I ran to my home to fetch some water, luckily enough, I lived at a stone's throw distance from the man. I got him water and he sat down. It turned out that he had diabetes and he was not having a heart attack.
He asked me to stay with him until his family arrived, and they did, in an Audi A7. I had never seen an Audi this closely in life, it turned out that he was a big politician who was strolling and not a drug addict.
Politicians in India have a big following among the working class and this man said he saw God in me and that was the day he started spreading the rumour that I was the last avatar of Lord kalki and because he was a famous politician, these stupid people started praying to me and overnight I became a godman despite the fact that I did not want anything to do with him. He gave me his Audi as a gift for saving his life and even though I refused, he parked it in front of my home and hung the key in my door.
His followers formed a huge line for touching my feet for the better part of the year and I had to ask him to tell them to stop. I started another rumour and they did stop. But they did not stop praying about me and thinking about me. One lunatic god fearing follower of the politician built a temple in my name and there is an actual priest who sits there, it is apparently a big business.
When I was on my deathbed, I hoped that it would die with me, but after my death, the myth of my power (I did not have any) just grew exponentially, some claimed to see me fly, some said I teleported and what not and 1k years later I became an actual God. They prayed to Lord Ganesh and me at the same time. 15k years later, they wrote books about my mythical superpowers and some even claimed that I was the Godhead.
There is no hope left for me now to be released from this world, I am doomed to stay here, as a spirit, powerless to do anything at all.
All this for saving a life. | It was just a small piece of graffiti carved into an outcropping near the Missouri River back in 2072. No one really knew anything about Ben Johnson or who he was other than he apparently had taken a class in 2072. There was other Graffiti as well such as "For a good time call this number" or "Fuck Tecumseh-Go Tigers" carved into this cave that was known to the locals as Indian Cave. There also were petroglyphs but no one could read those. But Ben Johnson had been one of the few to carve his name on the part of the cave that was most visible, and did so in letters three feet high.
Since not much had been able to carve through the solid rock, which was visible from the road about 20 feet below. People saw Ben Johnson's name as they drove through the park. It had survived two ice ages and a number of wars, but somehow, this outcropping of Indian Rock with "Ben Johnson- Class of 2072."
For years people had searched in vain but records had been lost in the great Dakota fire of 3030 and as well as in numerous Tornadoes and of course the great war of 13448 which nearly destroyed the planet. Yet the rock remained. It even gave name to the two towns nearby. Benstown and Johnsonville. People apparently thought he was important enough to remember not just with the rock, but with towns founded not even a century ago.
It was a tradition for the students of the Benstown-Johnsonville consolidated schools to crawl up the rock and touch the letters. And it was on that night that Apple Turnbuckle, a senior at the school climbed up. Most of her classmates simply used jetpacks to reach the top but Apple was a tough cookie and decided to climb like her father, mother, and grandfather had done.
Apple made the somewhat difficult climb to the top but once there, she saw something that until then was an urban legend. She saw a shadowy figure wearing a sort of hooded garment and blue colored pants that looked a tad odd. He seemed to be just sitting there though, and didn't say anything, but when Apple looked at him, he turned to look at her.
She said "who are you?" and he said "Well i'm Ben Johnson. And i'm stuck here on this rock"
She then tried to climb down. Johnson's ghost however just stayed on the rock . He then said "why the hell won't people just let me be!" | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | "Well then."
Being informed that you are still remembered 15,000 years after your death should seem pretty awesome. I guess it was, after a fashion.
"I just wish it had been for something other than eating that Golden Corral into bankruptcy." I sighed. | It was just a small piece of graffiti carved into an outcropping near the Missouri River back in 2072. No one really knew anything about Ben Johnson or who he was other than he apparently had taken a class in 2072. There was other Graffiti as well such as "For a good time call this number" or "Fuck Tecumseh-Go Tigers" carved into this cave that was known to the locals as Indian Cave. There also were petroglyphs but no one could read those. But Ben Johnson had been one of the few to carve his name on the part of the cave that was most visible, and did so in letters three feet high.
Since not much had been able to carve through the solid rock, which was visible from the road about 20 feet below. People saw Ben Johnson's name as they drove through the park. It had survived two ice ages and a number of wars, but somehow, this outcropping of Indian Rock with "Ben Johnson- Class of 2072."
For years people had searched in vain but records had been lost in the great Dakota fire of 3030 and as well as in numerous Tornadoes and of course the great war of 13448 which nearly destroyed the planet. Yet the rock remained. It even gave name to the two towns nearby. Benstown and Johnsonville. People apparently thought he was important enough to remember not just with the rock, but with towns founded not even a century ago.
It was a tradition for the students of the Benstown-Johnsonville consolidated schools to crawl up the rock and touch the letters. And it was on that night that Apple Turnbuckle, a senior at the school climbed up. Most of her classmates simply used jetpacks to reach the top but Apple was a tough cookie and decided to climb like her father, mother, and grandfather had done.
Apple made the somewhat difficult climb to the top but once there, she saw something that until then was an urban legend. She saw a shadowy figure wearing a sort of hooded garment and blue colored pants that looked a tad odd. He seemed to be just sitting there though, and didn't say anything, but when Apple looked at him, he turned to look at her.
She said "who are you?" and he said "Well i'm Ben Johnson. And i'm stuck here on this rock"
She then tried to climb down. Johnson's ghost however just stayed on the rock . He then said "why the hell won't people just let me be!" | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | Anna’s Ghost
***
“Anna, can you hear me?” I asked.
“What?” my only daughter answered drearily. She was slumped over her dining table. Her eyes were red. It was late. She had been crying.
“Anna, it’s me,” I said. I put all my strength into being heard. Into existing.
“Oh my goodness, dad?” Suddenly, Anna was alert. She stood up and began to pace back and forth. “No! There’s no way that’s you. Gosh, I must be going crazy!”
“Anna, you’re not crazy! Listen to me!”
Anna shook her head. “No, I can’t entertain delusions! You’re not real! I’m just hallucinating because it’s one year since you died. My boss said I should see a psychiatrist after I had the breakdown. I didn’t listen.”
I didn’t want to see Anna like this. I wanted her to smile again. She hadn’t smiled once since I died.
“Anna… It doesn’t matter if you think I’m real or not. I just want to tell you something. I’ve seen you hurting. I know you feel like you failed, and-”
“I did fail, dad! After mum died, I spent my life trying to save you! And I failed!”
“Anna, I know what failure feels like. Believe me, I’ve had my fair share. But I’ve seen you grow, and you have been my proudest achievement. It hurts to see you go through this. You have mourned, and it is time to move on and finish your work.”
I must have struck a chord, because Anna paused and sat down again. “My work…” she muttered.
Anna was the smartest person I’d ever known, and that’s not just my pride as a father speaking. She was very young when her mother died, and I suppose she never accepted it. She became a biotechnical researcher, and she spent her life working on unlocking human immortality. Her research was her passion at the expense of all else. To her, my death was more than the loss of a loved one. It was the failure of her life’s work.
“Anna, listen,” I began. “There are so many more people out there who need you now. Just before I died, you told me you were so close to a breakthrough. You told me to hang on. I was in awe, you know? In awe at what an amazing person you’d become.” I chuckled at the memory. I don’t know if Anna could hear my chuckle, but a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and my heart soared. “Please, do this for me. You always seemed happiest when you were at work. I want to see that again.”
I stayed with Anna that night, and we talked until the sun rose.
The next day, she applied to return to her old position on the research team. They had been utterly lost without her, and they accepted her immediately.
***
Within a decade, human immortality was viable, and Anna became the world’s most famous scientist. She was never accustomed to the spotlight, and I think she found it more daunting than anything she had faced in her work. Her auburn hair turned a silvery grey.
In the meantime, I met other ghosts. From their experience, they explained that ghosts remained on Earth for as long as they were remembered. Very few ghosts were able to make themselves heard. I was one of the lucky ones. A few of the ghosts were social, but most kept to themselves. It didn’t matter much to me. I had been social in life, but in death I felt comfort in isolation.
I even met Anna’s mother again. She was happy, albeit apprehensive, to see me. All the problems we’d experienced in life felt like a bad dream. We spoke for a great length, and then enjoyed each other’s company in silence.
***
Anna had wanted to die. With no living family, and no close friends, she felt that she had given her gift to humanity and was ready to leave.
“When I die, I’ll be with my parents,” she told the media. Her wishes were met with great protest. A mind like hers shouldn’t die, the media said. I was inclined to agree, but Anna would have none of it. She had made peace with her end. She said she wanted to join me and her mother on the other side.
It was the strangest thing that convinced her to live. I had told her that ghosts disappear when they are forgotten. Anna asked me what happens to ghosts after they disappear, but I had no idea. Anna was the one who pieced it together.
“So, after I die, who will be alive to remember you and mum? Eventually, you’ll disappear. But I won’t join you. I’ll never disappear, because everyone alive knows my name and, thanks to me, they’ll never die.”
That was the reason for her choice, and it showed how much she truly loved her mother and me. The truth was that, even though I had wanted Anna to live forever, I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do. Maybe that’s just me and my old fashioned ways.
I stayed by her side for thousands of years.
***
Humanity spread across the universe. My dearest Anna was appointed as a scientific advisor to the Federation of the Milky Way, the most densely populated and economically active human federation in the universe.
Every few decades, Anna set aside a year to spend time with me and her mother. Humanity’s languages had long since evolved into forms we could not understand, but Anna spoke to us in the version of English we had used when I was alive. It was a simple gesture, so that I did not have to trouble myself learning new dialects every few centuries, but I always felt touched.
Unfortunately, this did not last forever.
Fifteen thousand years after my death, Anna told me that the hardware in her brain had long ago reached the physical limits of the universe, and it was it now packed to its capacity. Any information she wished to gain, she had to erase something else from her mind.
“There’s a lot of processing power in my mind,” she told me. “I’ve been using it to make sense of the crazy amount of policies that the government implements for the Galaxy. Most people have regular memory clean-ups every decade. I need to forget, or my mind is going to stagnate.”
“What are you saying?” I asked, but I knew. My mind was like a termite compared to hers, but I could understand enough. She needed to erase memories that were least relevant to her current life – the memories of her life fifteen thousand years ago. Her mother and I would disappear.
Eventually, I spoke. “Anna, I’m so proud of all the good you’ve done for humanity, and everything you’ve created. It’s more than what I ever thought was humanly possible. If this is going to be a goodbye, then I’m happy for the fifteen thousand years we’ve shared.”
Anna was silent.
***
Eventually, my last day came.
Anna organised her memory clean-up. It was going to be precise. Her mind would be in peak condition afterwards. The androids who perform such procedures sensed her apprehension, and they gave her words of comfort. She didn’t say anything in response.
Just as the procedure was about to begin, Anna signalled for the androids to stop.
The androids seemed puzzled, and they asked her something in their foreign syntax. I had no idea what their question was, but Anna responded in a version of English I understood.
“No.”
***
Epilogue:
Human self-terminations were rare, but they were known to happen.
Anna’s last wish was that her self-termination was not to be publicised. She requested that all records of her existence be removed from the public archives. All her work and achievements, spanning fifteen millennia of scientific and political progress, were to be reattributed to Anna’s colleague, who was happy to take the credit.
After Anna’s death, she remained as a ghost, sustained by the memories of the people who knew her personally. As centuries passed, the memories of those people were cleaned up and overwritten. Eventually, Anna faded.
Her last hope as a ghost was that she would see her parents again on the other side, if one existed. | It was just a small piece of graffiti carved into an outcropping near the Missouri River back in 2072. No one really knew anything about Ben Johnson or who he was other than he apparently had taken a class in 2072. There was other Graffiti as well such as "For a good time call this number" or "Fuck Tecumseh-Go Tigers" carved into this cave that was known to the locals as Indian Cave. There also were petroglyphs but no one could read those. But Ben Johnson had been one of the few to carve his name on the part of the cave that was most visible, and did so in letters three feet high.
Since not much had been able to carve through the solid rock, which was visible from the road about 20 feet below. People saw Ben Johnson's name as they drove through the park. It had survived two ice ages and a number of wars, but somehow, this outcropping of Indian Rock with "Ben Johnson- Class of 2072."
For years people had searched in vain but records had been lost in the great Dakota fire of 3030 and as well as in numerous Tornadoes and of course the great war of 13448 which nearly destroyed the planet. Yet the rock remained. It even gave name to the two towns nearby. Benstown and Johnsonville. People apparently thought he was important enough to remember not just with the rock, but with towns founded not even a century ago.
It was a tradition for the students of the Benstown-Johnsonville consolidated schools to crawl up the rock and touch the letters. And it was on that night that Apple Turnbuckle, a senior at the school climbed up. Most of her classmates simply used jetpacks to reach the top but Apple was a tough cookie and decided to climb like her father, mother, and grandfather had done.
Apple made the somewhat difficult climb to the top but once there, she saw something that until then was an urban legend. She saw a shadowy figure wearing a sort of hooded garment and blue colored pants that looked a tad odd. He seemed to be just sitting there though, and didn't say anything, but when Apple looked at him, he turned to look at her.
She said "who are you?" and he said "Well i'm Ben Johnson. And i'm stuck here on this rock"
She then tried to climb down. Johnson's ghost however just stayed on the rock . He then said "why the hell won't people just let me be!" | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | Before I was a ghost, I was a miraculous gentleman of great gravitas, a real stand outer. A thunderbolt incarnate that shocked and electrified every sap that I met. I could be put in the same room with any person, man or woman, and they would be proposing engagement in 5 minutes. I even had to cut off this one guy from ordering a wedding elephant. He was a funny bastard, I think his name was Frank, from Montana, working in power plant demolition. Anyways, long story short, I got power hungry and I sort of went all dictatorship and I won the highest body count medal, a religion popped up, and now I'm the Satan of it, well I'm not actually Lucifer, my name is You. Err no, wouldn't that be a great twist, something sort of grandiose and profoundish, but not really, my real name is Hal Holman. I blew up the moon, for my birthday, and the astroid belt that took it's place is called the Hal Holman Astroid Belt, I named it and it sort of stuck. | It was just a small piece of graffiti carved into an outcropping near the Missouri River back in 2072. No one really knew anything about Ben Johnson or who he was other than he apparently had taken a class in 2072. There was other Graffiti as well such as "For a good time call this number" or "Fuck Tecumseh-Go Tigers" carved into this cave that was known to the locals as Indian Cave. There also were petroglyphs but no one could read those. But Ben Johnson had been one of the few to carve his name on the part of the cave that was most visible, and did so in letters three feet high.
Since not much had been able to carve through the solid rock, which was visible from the road about 20 feet below. People saw Ben Johnson's name as they drove through the park. It had survived two ice ages and a number of wars, but somehow, this outcropping of Indian Rock with "Ben Johnson- Class of 2072."
For years people had searched in vain but records had been lost in the great Dakota fire of 3030 and as well as in numerous Tornadoes and of course the great war of 13448 which nearly destroyed the planet. Yet the rock remained. It even gave name to the two towns nearby. Benstown and Johnsonville. People apparently thought he was important enough to remember not just with the rock, but with towns founded not even a century ago.
It was a tradition for the students of the Benstown-Johnsonville consolidated schools to crawl up the rock and touch the letters. And it was on that night that Apple Turnbuckle, a senior at the school climbed up. Most of her classmates simply used jetpacks to reach the top but Apple was a tough cookie and decided to climb like her father, mother, and grandfather had done.
Apple made the somewhat difficult climb to the top but once there, she saw something that until then was an urban legend. She saw a shadowy figure wearing a sort of hooded garment and blue colored pants that looked a tad odd. He seemed to be just sitting there though, and didn't say anything, but when Apple looked at him, he turned to look at her.
She said "who are you?" and he said "Well i'm Ben Johnson. And i'm stuck here on this rock"
She then tried to climb down. Johnson's ghost however just stayed on the rock . He then said "why the hell won't people just let me be!" | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | "Go!" I commanded as I held up my sword, mentally preparing for my demise to guarantee enough time for my queen to escape. Hoards of enemies appeared on the horizon and quickly charged down as the rest of us began our retreat.
"Captain..." I shook my head. They knew that no amount of words will turn me back from my decision. They knew how stubborn I am.
"Make sure she lives..." I gave my second-in-command a bittersweet grin and with that, he nodded and departed. I stood at the designated choke point, where enemies could only come in few. I muttered a short prayer before engaging in combat.
Like a lone wolf fighting hoards of endless enemies, I hope that my death would at least serve somewhat of a purpose. A heroic death.
-------
*The world...has greatly changed...since my death...*
*I've seen... the world transform... from villages... to small towns... to giant cities...*
*I've seen war... the endless cycle... of humanity... Oh how ironic it is... for us to fight... rather than... cooperate...*
*I still ponder... at my semi-existence... why am I still here?... Is this... what afterlife... looks like...?*
*I doubt it... There's no one... but me and others... living beings... who are completely... unaware of me...*
*Many things I can do... Defies natural laws... go through physical beings... float and watch... like a spectator watching... the beautiful world... slowly and finally... working together...*
-------
Fellow men, the Empire dates back to the one man who saved us all. His bravery. His courage. His noble sacrifice is what continue us to this day. Let us learn from him.
Yes sir!
---------
Alright children, gather around. Here's a story about a legendary swordsman who risks his life for the greater good.
Oh! I love that story. My grandfather tells me that one all the time. I love it!
Now now Jack, let's not spoil it for others.
-------
"Haven't you heard, man?" Joe said as he kept drinking, now completely wasted, "That infamous legend of the warrior that managed to keep his queen alive by sacrificing himself. I aspire to be like that for Maddie."
"Shhh... You have too much to drink tonight. You and your love for history. You wouldn't want to do that for that crazy ex of yours."
-------
*Ah... Maybe it's not that bad... I hope I get to see... how much humanity... progresses into... the better future.*
| _"YOU."_
The apparition's voice shook the walls of my loft.
The air chilled and the lights dimmed as it glided into my living room from the entryway.
Clearly, it was upset.
_"WHAT ARE YOU,"_ it demanded.
I couldn't help but smirk. That seemed to infuriate it all the more.
_"YOU CHANGE YOUR NAME. YOU CHANGE YOUR FACE."_
It wasn't wrong.
"I want to say... Carl?" I asked it.
_"CARLOS EVENGL--"_
"_Carlos_, that's the one. Of course." I took a moment to recall the century in which I had first met him.
I remembered. "Oh, goodness. You must be pissed. Finally tracked me down, have you? Well done."
_"FACE YOUR RECKONING,"_ it bellowed, stirring the air around it into a whirlwind. Blood began to seep from the walls. And I had just gotten new wallpaper not 2 months ago. Shame, that.
"That's all you've got? You're a slow learner, Carlos."
The need to shout over the howling gale somewhat diminished my authority, so I infused some vitae to magnify my voice a bit. It felt a little undignified to join a screaming match with so young a ghost, so I tried to keep it brief.
"I have _hundreds_ of you. And at your best, you are a nuisance."
_"WE CANNOT DIE UNTIL--"_
"Until _I_ die, I know, I know. Not my problem, Carlos."
I thought I was being perfectly reasonable.
_"MONSTER."_
"So, listen, stay here as long as you like, because I sure as hell won't be coming back, now that you've found it."
_"YOU ARE A MONSTER."_
I grabbed my coat and hat off the coat rack as I looked around for a sufficiently dark shadow nearby. Thankfully, Carlos' atmospheric effects made that fairly easy.
"Take care, Carlos. See you in another few hundred years, eh?" I tipped my hat to him. "And do pardon the mess I'm about to make."
...which was actually my old dramatic exit line, but in the heat of the moment I had forgotten the latest I had come up with.
Worse still, as I was boiling into the coffee table's shadow in a puddle of blood and ectoplasm, en route to the shadow behind the fridge of my penthouse in New York, he managed to spoil the _theater_ of that moment with some unintelligible shouting about finding me again.
Such a boor, that Carlos. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | "Well, this sucks, Bill."
"As I'm aware, for the millionth time" Bill sighed. For all Bill knew, Ted might actually be at the million mark now.
The two ghosts stared over the horizon as the sun set, golden rays washing over the peaceful Californian vineyard.
"Bill... Why..." Ted began to drawl, his eyes drooping with weariness.
"Look I told you, okay? It was an Accident. Acc-i-dent." Bill was visibly agitated, as well as a ghost can be.
"But.. it was just a container of mayonnaise?"
"Miracle whip, different stuff Ted"
Bill sighed again. No one could've expected that, in the horrific explosion of the Eureka Nuclear Power Plant, a single condiment jar would give everyone on the planet immortality. The setting sun, it would be back again. Like it has been for the past fifteen thousand years.
Before Bill could explain any more, the soft muffles of snoring forced his eyes off the horizon and onto his comrade. Ted was slouched over, drooling slightly.
"I really should've never put my name on it." Bill exclaimed out loud, but deep down he knew that he *hated* when anyone used his stuff. | _"YOU."_
The apparition's voice shook the walls of my loft.
The air chilled and the lights dimmed as it glided into my living room from the entryway.
Clearly, it was upset.
_"WHAT ARE YOU,"_ it demanded.
I couldn't help but smirk. That seemed to infuriate it all the more.
_"YOU CHANGE YOUR NAME. YOU CHANGE YOUR FACE."_
It wasn't wrong.
"I want to say... Carl?" I asked it.
_"CARLOS EVENGL--"_
"_Carlos_, that's the one. Of course." I took a moment to recall the century in which I had first met him.
I remembered. "Oh, goodness. You must be pissed. Finally tracked me down, have you? Well done."
_"FACE YOUR RECKONING,"_ it bellowed, stirring the air around it into a whirlwind. Blood began to seep from the walls. And I had just gotten new wallpaper not 2 months ago. Shame, that.
"That's all you've got? You're a slow learner, Carlos."
The need to shout over the howling gale somewhat diminished my authority, so I infused some vitae to magnify my voice a bit. It felt a little undignified to join a screaming match with so young a ghost, so I tried to keep it brief.
"I have _hundreds_ of you. And at your best, you are a nuisance."
_"WE CANNOT DIE UNTIL--"_
"Until _I_ die, I know, I know. Not my problem, Carlos."
I thought I was being perfectly reasonable.
_"MONSTER."_
"So, listen, stay here as long as you like, because I sure as hell won't be coming back, now that you've found it."
_"YOU ARE A MONSTER."_
I grabbed my coat and hat off the coat rack as I looked around for a sufficiently dark shadow nearby. Thankfully, Carlos' atmospheric effects made that fairly easy.
"Take care, Carlos. See you in another few hundred years, eh?" I tipped my hat to him. "And do pardon the mess I'm about to make."
...which was actually my old dramatic exit line, but in the heat of the moment I had forgotten the latest I had come up with.
Worse still, as I was boiling into the coffee table's shadow in a puddle of blood and ectoplasm, en route to the shadow behind the fridge of my penthouse in New York, he managed to spoil the _theater_ of that moment with some unintelligible shouting about finding me again.
Such a boor, that Carlos. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | Getting your bearings, that's the tricky part; the handle on what you're experiencing, and how you're experiencing it. Once you open your eyes, and learn how to move your arms, you'd be surprised how far you can reach.
Sometimes, the ones that have nearly overcome the trauma of their journey stir a little to my words. I don't really know if they understand my meaning, or even struggled to comprehend the meaning behind my harsh noises. The real trouble was, none of them stuck around long enough to have the time to really open their eyes. A meager handful of centuries at best, before the gossamer strands of memory binding them together turned, inexorably, to dust.
I once knew a certain man, and more importantly, this man knows me. He never had wealth or fame, and honestly I can't recall even his name. The placing of terminally ill persons into a manner of stasis wasn't exactly a new idea, you see, but the hurdle of being able to reverse the process was overcome by some brilliant young mind whom I thank dearly.
And so it came to pass, after how long I cannot reckon, that I opened my eyes. Later still I would explore the breadth of my grasp, and find it tremendous. I set my will to ensuring that the man who knew me remained undisturbed. So long as the stars burned, they would fuel the machines that preserved a certain, unremarkable human.
It took only a few decades of influence. Sharing portions of my vision with those living bright enough to put it into action, as well as enticing ideas for possible wealth in investors took care of the rest. A group of some few hundred in stasis, including the man who remembered me, were transported to a bunker, miles deep and attended autonomously. The supplies in reserve would keep several hundred humans in stasis for over ten thousand years. Fortunately, the fortress was only ever designed to keep one person safe.
The armed revolt, which conveniently killed everyone with any knowledge the bunker's location, took less than five years to bloom.
Even now, mankind struggles to make the leap of harassing a significant portion of the sun's output. It will be enough for a few billion years, but that will do for now. | _"YOU."_
The apparition's voice shook the walls of my loft.
The air chilled and the lights dimmed as it glided into my living room from the entryway.
Clearly, it was upset.
_"WHAT ARE YOU,"_ it demanded.
I couldn't help but smirk. That seemed to infuriate it all the more.
_"YOU CHANGE YOUR NAME. YOU CHANGE YOUR FACE."_
It wasn't wrong.
"I want to say... Carl?" I asked it.
_"CARLOS EVENGL--"_
"_Carlos_, that's the one. Of course." I took a moment to recall the century in which I had first met him.
I remembered. "Oh, goodness. You must be pissed. Finally tracked me down, have you? Well done."
_"FACE YOUR RECKONING,"_ it bellowed, stirring the air around it into a whirlwind. Blood began to seep from the walls. And I had just gotten new wallpaper not 2 months ago. Shame, that.
"That's all you've got? You're a slow learner, Carlos."
The need to shout over the howling gale somewhat diminished my authority, so I infused some vitae to magnify my voice a bit. It felt a little undignified to join a screaming match with so young a ghost, so I tried to keep it brief.
"I have _hundreds_ of you. And at your best, you are a nuisance."
_"WE CANNOT DIE UNTIL--"_
"Until _I_ die, I know, I know. Not my problem, Carlos."
I thought I was being perfectly reasonable.
_"MONSTER."_
"So, listen, stay here as long as you like, because I sure as hell won't be coming back, now that you've found it."
_"YOU ARE A MONSTER."_
I grabbed my coat and hat off the coat rack as I looked around for a sufficiently dark shadow nearby. Thankfully, Carlos' atmospheric effects made that fairly easy.
"Take care, Carlos. See you in another few hundred years, eh?" I tipped my hat to him. "And do pardon the mess I'm about to make."
...which was actually my old dramatic exit line, but in the heat of the moment I had forgotten the latest I had come up with.
Worse still, as I was boiling into the coffee table's shadow in a puddle of blood and ectoplasm, en route to the shadow behind the fridge of my penthouse in New York, he managed to spoil the _theater_ of that moment with some unintelligible shouting about finding me again.
Such a boor, that Carlos. | |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | **Dedication to Jim Morrison**
"I died on the sands of Singapore."
Melchiades had said
As he faded into darkness
With his only friend.
He lives, now, in crystal palaces
Where buildings shine like mirrors
Reflecting sunlight.
His words ride like violent storms
Across the open range.
They burn like mercury
In the old black crucible
You have found immortality my friend.
Enjoy it.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
NOTE: This was a very old poem I've written during a weird time where I had a little bit of an obsession with 100 Years of Solitude and The Doors (The 60s in general). When I read the prompt I thought about this poem. Whether its good or not I have no idea. At the time of writing the poem I wrote about 200 or so others, Some okay. Others not so much. | _"YOU."_
The apparition's voice shook the walls of my loft.
The air chilled and the lights dimmed as it glided into my living room from the entryway.
Clearly, it was upset.
_"WHAT ARE YOU,"_ it demanded.
I couldn't help but smirk. That seemed to infuriate it all the more.
_"YOU CHANGE YOUR NAME. YOU CHANGE YOUR FACE."_
It wasn't wrong.
"I want to say... Carl?" I asked it.
_"CARLOS EVENGL--"_
"_Carlos_, that's the one. Of course." I took a moment to recall the century in which I had first met him.
I remembered. "Oh, goodness. You must be pissed. Finally tracked me down, have you? Well done."
_"FACE YOUR RECKONING,"_ it bellowed, stirring the air around it into a whirlwind. Blood began to seep from the walls. And I had just gotten new wallpaper not 2 months ago. Shame, that.
"That's all you've got? You're a slow learner, Carlos."
The need to shout over the howling gale somewhat diminished my authority, so I infused some vitae to magnify my voice a bit. It felt a little undignified to join a screaming match with so young a ghost, so I tried to keep it brief.
"I have _hundreds_ of you. And at your best, you are a nuisance."
_"WE CANNOT DIE UNTIL--"_
"Until _I_ die, I know, I know. Not my problem, Carlos."
I thought I was being perfectly reasonable.
_"MONSTER."_
"So, listen, stay here as long as you like, because I sure as hell won't be coming back, now that you've found it."
_"YOU ARE A MONSTER."_
I grabbed my coat and hat off the coat rack as I looked around for a sufficiently dark shadow nearby. Thankfully, Carlos' atmospheric effects made that fairly easy.
"Take care, Carlos. See you in another few hundred years, eh?" I tipped my hat to him. "And do pardon the mess I'm about to make."
...which was actually my old dramatic exit line, but in the heat of the moment I had forgotten the latest I had come up with.
Worse still, as I was boiling into the coffee table's shadow in a puddle of blood and ectoplasm, en route to the shadow behind the fridge of my penthouse in New York, he managed to spoil the _theater_ of that moment with some unintelligible shouting about finding me again.
Such a boor, that Carlos. |
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.