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[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."_
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 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."_
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. | 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."_
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. | 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."_
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. | What are you guys playing? I’m supposed to be playing Game Of War™ but this one player keeps kicking my ass. Is it TheLegend27?! Yeah, TheLegend27. Who is the legend 27? Some say TheLegend27 is the first Game Of War™ player ever. Born from fire. I heard, TheLegend27 can hurl a boulder farther than a catapult. I heard TheLegend27 once defeated an entire army with a single blow. But the worst part is, just when you think you’re safe, just when you think you might escape… WHAM!!! Just like that! collective gasps Iphone Notification What? No, no no no, no no no! Iphone Notification That’s impossible! “TheLegend27” has captured my hero! Mine too! Aw you guys, I’m sure it’s not that bad. You have no idea what just happened. I might have some idea. Woman turns around, and powers her device’s screen, showing she is in fact TheLegend27 | |
[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. | What are you guys playing? I’m supposed to be playing Game Of War™ but this one player keeps kicking my ass. Is it TheLegend27?! Yeah, TheLegend27. Who is the legend 27? Some say TheLegend27 is the first Game Of War™ player ever. Born from fire. I heard, TheLegend27 can hurl a boulder farther than a catapult. I heard TheLegend27 once defeated an entire army with a single blow. But the worst part is, just when you think you’re safe, just when you think you might escape… WHAM!!! Just like that! collective gasps Iphone Notification What? No, no no no, no no no! Iphone Notification That’s impossible! “TheLegend27” has captured my hero! Mine too! Aw you guys, I’m sure it’s not that bad. You have no idea what just happened. I might have some idea. Woman turns around, and powers her device’s screen, showing she is in fact TheLegend27 | |
[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. | What are you guys playing? I’m supposed to be playing Game Of War™ but this one player keeps kicking my ass. Is it TheLegend27?! Yeah, TheLegend27. Who is the legend 27? Some say TheLegend27 is the first Game Of War™ player ever. Born from fire. I heard, TheLegend27 can hurl a boulder farther than a catapult. I heard TheLegend27 once defeated an entire army with a single blow. But the worst part is, just when you think you’re safe, just when you think you might escape… WHAM!!! Just like that! collective gasps Iphone Notification What? No, no no no, no no no! Iphone Notification That’s impossible! “TheLegend27” has captured my hero! Mine too! Aw you guys, I’m sure it’s not that bad. You have no idea what just happened. I might have some idea. Woman turns around, and powers her device’s screen, showing she is in fact TheLegend27 | |
[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. | What are you guys playing? I’m supposed to be playing Game Of War™ but this one player keeps kicking my ass. Is it TheLegend27?! Yeah, TheLegend27. Who is the legend 27? Some say TheLegend27 is the first Game Of War™ player ever. Born from fire. I heard, TheLegend27 can hurl a boulder farther than a catapult. I heard TheLegend27 once defeated an entire army with a single blow. But the worst part is, just when you think you’re safe, just when you think you might escape… WHAM!!! Just like that! collective gasps Iphone Notification What? No, no no no, no no no! Iphone Notification That’s impossible! “TheLegend27” has captured my hero! Mine too! Aw you guys, I’m sure it’s not that bad. You have no idea what just happened. I might have some idea. Woman turns around, and powers her device’s screen, showing she is in fact TheLegend27 | |
[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. | What are you guys playing? I’m supposed to be playing Game Of War™ but this one player keeps kicking my ass. Is it TheLegend27?! Yeah, TheLegend27. Who is the legend 27? Some say TheLegend27 is the first Game Of War™ player ever. Born from fire. I heard, TheLegend27 can hurl a boulder farther than a catapult. I heard TheLegend27 once defeated an entire army with a single blow. But the worst part is, just when you think you’re safe, just when you think you might escape… WHAM!!! Just like that! collective gasps Iphone Notification What? No, no no no, no no no! Iphone Notification That’s impossible! “TheLegend27” has captured my hero! Mine too! Aw you guys, I’m sure it’s not that bad. You have no idea what just happened. I might have some idea. Woman turns around, and powers her device’s screen, showing she is in fact TheLegend27 | |
[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'll give it a go:
15,000 the big 15-O. The world sure has changed alot. Most ghost only got to live an extra decade or two before passing on but not me I've been here for 15,000 years and counting. I don't know how I'm still around anyone who knew me personally has been long gone but somehow I still find myself flattered. I never thought of myself as anything special but clearly I must have been or I wouldn't be here. I rolled onto my back and watched the stars over head slowly swirl above me.
I used to rest in peoples homes but quickly learned that I became too attached to people whom I'd only outlive. My heart ached whenever I thought of it so I opted to live in the dwindling forests of the world amoungst the stars and landscapes who's lifespans could match mine. And as I eased into my surroundings my anxious thoughts plagued me again.
I didn't know who out there could ever remember me, I didn't do much. Or at least I don't feel like I did. I tried for years to think of what I did to possibly make it this far and yet nothing ever came to mind.
Newton suggested to me that perhaps I made some scientific discovery, but honestly I think the pompous arse was just trying to rub it in my face that he knew exactly what he would be remembered for. The other spirits really weren't of much help in such matters as they would either gossip about how far mankind got with their discoveries or follow their families until they eventually passed on. I hated to admit it but I was actually quiet jealous. I longed for that sense of purpose that faded away so long ago and left me with nothing but questions and an ever changing world I would never be a part of.
-sorry guys I kinda fell off the rails here and list my point-
| |
[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'll give it a go:
15,000 the big 15-O. The world sure has changed alot. Most ghost only got to live an extra decade or two before passing on but not me I've been here for 15,000 years and counting. I don't know how I'm still around anyone who knew me personally has been long gone but somehow I still find myself flattered. I never thought of myself as anything special but clearly I must have been or I wouldn't be here. I rolled onto my back and watched the stars over head slowly swirl above me.
I used to rest in peoples homes but quickly learned that I became too attached to people whom I'd only outlive. My heart ached whenever I thought of it so I opted to live in the dwindling forests of the world amoungst the stars and landscapes who's lifespans could match mine. And as I eased into my surroundings my anxious thoughts plagued me again.
I didn't know who out there could ever remember me, I didn't do much. Or at least I don't feel like I did. I tried for years to think of what I did to possibly make it this far and yet nothing ever came to mind.
Newton suggested to me that perhaps I made some scientific discovery, but honestly I think the pompous arse was just trying to rub it in my face that he knew exactly what he would be remembered for. The other spirits really weren't of much help in such matters as they would either gossip about how far mankind got with their discoveries or follow their families until they eventually passed on. I hated to admit it but I was actually quiet jealous. I longed for that sense of purpose that faded away so long ago and left me with nothing but questions and an ever changing world I would never be a part of.
-sorry guys I kinda fell off the rails here and list my point-
| |
[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'll give it a go:
15,000 the big 15-O. The world sure has changed alot. Most ghost only got to live an extra decade or two before passing on but not me I've been here for 15,000 years and counting. I don't know how I'm still around anyone who knew me personally has been long gone but somehow I still find myself flattered. I never thought of myself as anything special but clearly I must have been or I wouldn't be here. I rolled onto my back and watched the stars over head slowly swirl above me.
I used to rest in peoples homes but quickly learned that I became too attached to people whom I'd only outlive. My heart ached whenever I thought of it so I opted to live in the dwindling forests of the world amoungst the stars and landscapes who's lifespans could match mine. And as I eased into my surroundings my anxious thoughts plagued me again.
I didn't know who out there could ever remember me, I didn't do much. Or at least I don't feel like I did. I tried for years to think of what I did to possibly make it this far and yet nothing ever came to mind.
Newton suggested to me that perhaps I made some scientific discovery, but honestly I think the pompous arse was just trying to rub it in my face that he knew exactly what he would be remembered for. The other spirits really weren't of much help in such matters as they would either gossip about how far mankind got with their discoveries or follow their families until they eventually passed on. I hated to admit it but I was actually quiet jealous. I longed for that sense of purpose that faded away so long ago and left me with nothing but questions and an ever changing world I would never be a part of.
-sorry guys I kinda fell off the rails here and list my point-
| |
[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. | Well, hello there world. My name is Amael. I am what you call a ghost. I have been around for around 15000 years. But I am not a type of ghost who is depressed or just fucks around, or whatever you mortals might think ghost usually do. I Have a purpose, a job if you will. I am basically what you would call a ghost regulator. Ok, let me explain in detail.
When you die, your soul, Essence, or ghost ( call it as you wish) remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies or forgets you to the point of being unable to remember you at all. Or you get a ticket to the other side. Some say is because it takes time to pass judgement on people and the times have been increasing with more souls added to the mix, but that is just a theory, nothing more. We usually don't get much communication... The more people remember you, the more powerful you become as a ghost. Have only one guy remember you - you will barely be tethered to this world, but if you are remembered by thousands or even millions - then damn, you will even be able to affect the material world too. Sometimes happens that some of those people are really messed up. And my job is to stop those people , or , er... ghosts and send them off to their otherworldly destination ( usually hell). I'm a part of the order called the first legion. Our order has been secretive for a millennias, founded by people upstairs. Yes, in technicality the big G is my boss. ( No, I will NOT answer any questions about religion, don't even bother or try to ask me) The problem is - the more people remember them - the longer is the period that you just can't send the assholes to the other side. Some get to stay here for quite a while, so we make sure to have them imprisoned. Our numbers have been growing since the first founding, and I was one of the first ones to chose the duty. There is no brainwashing or indoctrination in our order, just a sense of duty. If you wish to retire, you can ask the order to forget you ( to fasten up the pricess, but sometimes it is not necessary) and you can enjoy a small vacation before you get sent into the afterlife. Heaven remembers their servants, so a lot of distinguished members have become angels up there. Some were forgiven of their past sins and avoided their lengthy vacation to the hottest beaches of hell.
So, you might ask - how do we deal with "evil" ghosts who are remembered by a lot of people, e.i. are quite powerful spirits? Simply - numbers, skills and our techniques. For example, because I have been around for so long, I am basically ghost Batman. Not as brooding and much more humorous one tho. Kinda like Zorro. Man, I love those movies of him. Um, back to the point , Everyone has a weakness you can exploit, or just brute force your way with spectral punches. If the case is serious, we try to erase any evidence of their exsitance so that people forget about them faster. We have erased countless monsters from history. You don't really want to know what they did or how they acted. Some of our members take the blame for their acts to erase them from history...
Both living and non-living members work together pretty well. Most commonly, a ghost and several living members get partnered. Lately, ghost members have been outnumbering living ones, estimated to being 10 to one, and there are A LOT of us. I remember I met my wife all those years ago, being partners for a long time, it was natural that love bloomed. Surprisingly, our love has endured for millenias. That emotion is quite powerful too, so it came in use in line of work too, so yeah, relationships are not discouraged at our job. I remember the day she died... Atlantis had it coming... It had advanced so fast and in the last years of their existence they unwittingly elected a person who would go on and become a dictator. In the end, when he died, he was so well known that he became quite powerful. My wife died fighting him and trying to save the people of the city. In the end, the city sank and now it is still there along with survivors. It was one of the biggest battles our order has ever fought. Now it serves as a sort of headquarters for our order. After her death, my wife became my ghost partner. After some years I joined her, dying of natural causes. We have been together ever since, watched over our children and descendants, as they lived their life, some still serve with us, some have passed on.... (Knowing where I am posting this, and what the frequent question will be, yes, we can have ghost sex, don't nag me with that question please.)
So, another question that probably pops into your mind, which noteworthy historical have I met during my service? Well, knowing probably most asked person, yes, I have met Hitler. I was there to punch him into submission. Nearly every superhero during that time was imagined punching him, but I actually did it for real... Well, as real as you count one ghost punching the other. The guy was powerful too. Like seriously, he leveled several city blocks( or cities? Was hard to tell in all destruction) till we beat him. He was one of the most powerful foes we have faced. Once we had him imprisoned ( our upstairs benefactors provided us the knowledge and means to do that btw), it was pretty rough time for several years. But, eventually, as most of them, he started pondering what he had done. He had company of his wife Eva too. Evaluating your life once you are imprisoned is basically what most people do. Nearly all of the history's evil people regret their actions pretty soon. In the end, most of them are still people, albeit misguided. Thinking your life over, a lot of them Turn a new lea - Ghenghis Khan, Atila the hun, Robespierre, Torquemada, etc... It took some time, but we could see genuine regret for his heinous actions. He soon resented that he was before. Now, he tries to makes amends for what he did. I remember the time when he beat Himmler and Geobbles to a spectral pulp. Good times. Granted, not all of them start to refret their actions, so those go onto their merry way to hell. I heard that some get regrets and get an amnestyin there instead, since, you know, God is quite forgiving and knows whether you are sincere or just lying.
And what about famous good people, you might ask? Well, we find them and try our best to make it so that they are sent over if they so desire. Well, some stay for some time. We have without a doubt best concerts. Better than ANY of you might imagine - Mozart, Beethoven, Freddy Mercury, Michael Jackson, you name it...
Some even join us in our duty. Abraham Lincoln is one of the most powerful members and trustiest members I have ever worked with. You can't just forget the moment then long-dead american president punches newly-dead german dictator's ghost through 5 buildings with one punch. Damn, wish we had cameras that could record the ghost battle back then, it was THAT awesome. He's also quite a joker. You know the "not everything is true on internet" quote attributed to him? He actually did write it. I know, ironic.
Well, I this everything brings us to today and why I am writing this: with technological development and the invention of internet, it has become harder to contain the ghosts of "evil" people. As much as the information is available and basically un-eraseable now, their ghost are becoming increasingly more powerful and hard to contain. We are starting to lose ground from time to time. Some of the incidents are reported as natural disasters, terror attacks ( and some of the ghost themselves made some of those groups), etcetera. Syria, for example, has become a battleground both, living and the dead. We will not oblige famous people to fight our battle, some of them just want to be done with it and move to another plane and we understand and respect their wishes, they are free to do whatever they want. But we need to increase our power to battle these forces, so no one else has to. Some have made themselves as characters of various works. Being remembered still counts, even if the guy remembering thinks you are fictional. Yes, many characters you think are fictional are actually real to some extent. I personally avoided doing it, since I was paranoid that it might give too much away. Also, since me and my wife are one of the oldest members, nearly everyone in the order knows and remembers us, so we have been getting stronger with years. But over the time, I learned that the best way to hide something, is to make people think something is not real, by presenting it as fictional to them and they won't believe the stuff even if they see it with their own eyes. Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction. Diego De La Vega would agree with me (since I'm the one who designed most of his style over the years, Sometimes I even took over it too, both a favor I couldn't refuse him). So, here I write to get some personal recognition. Why not some convoluted novel? Perhaps one day. I'm still trying this out. Also, I get little more empowered if people have memories that are much closer to truth. Although,It won't really mater if you think the story is bogus and is written by a guy with too much time on his hands or I am actually real, as long as you remember me, I should become more powerful. Remember, we are out there to ensure you are safe. Take care my friends and remember, always. | |
[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. | Well, hello there world. My name is Amael. I am what you call a ghost. I have been around for around 15000 years. But I am not a type of ghost who is depressed or just fucks around, or whatever you mortals might think ghost usually do. I Have a purpose, a job if you will. I am basically what you would call a ghost regulator. Ok, let me explain in detail.
When you die, your soul, Essence, or ghost ( call it as you wish) remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies or forgets you to the point of being unable to remember you at all. Or you get a ticket to the other side. Some say is because it takes time to pass judgement on people and the times have been increasing with more souls added to the mix, but that is just a theory, nothing more. We usually don't get much communication... The more people remember you, the more powerful you become as a ghost. Have only one guy remember you - you will barely be tethered to this world, but if you are remembered by thousands or even millions - then damn, you will even be able to affect the material world too. Sometimes happens that some of those people are really messed up. And my job is to stop those people , or , er... ghosts and send them off to their otherworldly destination ( usually hell). I'm a part of the order called the first legion. Our order has been secretive for a millennias, founded by people upstairs. Yes, in technicality the big G is my boss. ( No, I will NOT answer any questions about religion, don't even bother or try to ask me) The problem is - the more people remember them - the longer is the period that you just can't send the assholes to the other side. Some get to stay here for quite a while, so we make sure to have them imprisoned. Our numbers have been growing since the first founding, and I was one of the first ones to chose the duty. There is no brainwashing or indoctrination in our order, just a sense of duty. If you wish to retire, you can ask the order to forget you ( to fasten up the pricess, but sometimes it is not necessary) and you can enjoy a small vacation before you get sent into the afterlife. Heaven remembers their servants, so a lot of distinguished members have become angels up there. Some were forgiven of their past sins and avoided their lengthy vacation to the hottest beaches of hell.
So, you might ask - how do we deal with "evil" ghosts who are remembered by a lot of people, e.i. are quite powerful spirits? Simply - numbers, skills and our techniques. For example, because I have been around for so long, I am basically ghost Batman. Not as brooding and much more humorous one tho. Kinda like Zorro. Man, I love those movies of him. Um, back to the point , Everyone has a weakness you can exploit, or just brute force your way with spectral punches. If the case is serious, we try to erase any evidence of their exsitance so that people forget about them faster. We have erased countless monsters from history. You don't really want to know what they did or how they acted. Some of our members take the blame for their acts to erase them from history...
Both living and non-living members work together pretty well. Most commonly, a ghost and several living members get partnered. Lately, ghost members have been outnumbering living ones, estimated to being 10 to one, and there are A LOT of us. I remember I met my wife all those years ago, being partners for a long time, it was natural that love bloomed. Surprisingly, our love has endured for millenias. That emotion is quite powerful too, so it came in use in line of work too, so yeah, relationships are not discouraged at our job. I remember the day she died... Atlantis had it coming... It had advanced so fast and in the last years of their existence they unwittingly elected a person who would go on and become a dictator. In the end, when he died, he was so well known that he became quite powerful. My wife died fighting him and trying to save the people of the city. In the end, the city sank and now it is still there along with survivors. It was one of the biggest battles our order has ever fought. Now it serves as a sort of headquarters for our order. After her death, my wife became my ghost partner. After some years I joined her, dying of natural causes. We have been together ever since, watched over our children and descendants, as they lived their life, some still serve with us, some have passed on.... (Knowing where I am posting this, and what the frequent question will be, yes, we can have ghost sex, don't nag me with that question please.)
So, another question that probably pops into your mind, which noteworthy historical have I met during my service? Well, knowing probably most asked person, yes, I have met Hitler. I was there to punch him into submission. Nearly every superhero during that time was imagined punching him, but I actually did it for real... Well, as real as you count one ghost punching the other. The guy was powerful too. Like seriously, he leveled several city blocks( or cities? Was hard to tell in all destruction) till we beat him. He was one of the most powerful foes we have faced. Once we had him imprisoned ( our upstairs benefactors provided us the knowledge and means to do that btw), it was pretty rough time for several years. But, eventually, as most of them, he started pondering what he had done. He had company of his wife Eva too. Evaluating your life once you are imprisoned is basically what most people do. Nearly all of the history's evil people regret their actions pretty soon. In the end, most of them are still people, albeit misguided. Thinking your life over, a lot of them Turn a new lea - Ghenghis Khan, Atila the hun, Robespierre, Torquemada, etc... It took some time, but we could see genuine regret for his heinous actions. He soon resented that he was before. Now, he tries to makes amends for what he did. I remember the time when he beat Himmler and Geobbles to a spectral pulp. Good times. Granted, not all of them start to refret their actions, so those go onto their merry way to hell. I heard that some get regrets and get an amnestyin there instead, since, you know, God is quite forgiving and knows whether you are sincere or just lying.
And what about famous good people, you might ask? Well, we find them and try our best to make it so that they are sent over if they so desire. Well, some stay for some time. We have without a doubt best concerts. Better than ANY of you might imagine - Mozart, Beethoven, Freddy Mercury, Michael Jackson, you name it...
Some even join us in our duty. Abraham Lincoln is one of the most powerful members and trustiest members I have ever worked with. You can't just forget the moment then long-dead american president punches newly-dead german dictator's ghost through 5 buildings with one punch. Damn, wish we had cameras that could record the ghost battle back then, it was THAT awesome. He's also quite a joker. You know the "not everything is true on internet" quote attributed to him? He actually did write it. I know, ironic.
Well, I this everything brings us to today and why I am writing this: with technological development and the invention of internet, it has become harder to contain the ghosts of "evil" people. As much as the information is available and basically un-eraseable now, their ghost are becoming increasingly more powerful and hard to contain. We are starting to lose ground from time to time. Some of the incidents are reported as natural disasters, terror attacks ( and some of the ghost themselves made some of those groups), etcetera. Syria, for example, has become a battleground both, living and the dead. We will not oblige famous people to fight our battle, some of them just want to be done with it and move to another plane and we understand and respect their wishes, they are free to do whatever they want. But we need to increase our power to battle these forces, so no one else has to. Some have made themselves as characters of various works. Being remembered still counts, even if the guy remembering thinks you are fictional. Yes, many characters you think are fictional are actually real to some extent. I personally avoided doing it, since I was paranoid that it might give too much away. Also, since me and my wife are one of the oldest members, nearly everyone in the order knows and remembers us, so we have been getting stronger with years. But over the time, I learned that the best way to hide something, is to make people think something is not real, by presenting it as fictional to them and they won't believe the stuff even if they see it with their own eyes. Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction. Diego De La Vega would agree with me (since I'm the one who designed most of his style over the years, Sometimes I even took over it too, both a favor I couldn't refuse him). So, here I write to get some personal recognition. Why not some convoluted novel? Perhaps one day. I'm still trying this out. Also, I get little more empowered if people have memories that are much closer to truth. Although,It won't really mater if you think the story is bogus and is written by a guy with too much time on his hands or I am actually real, as long as you remember me, I should become more powerful. Remember, we are out there to ensure you are safe. Take care my friends and remember, always. | |
[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. | The fire consumed the house. Jeff, the last reader of my novella, which kept me remembered for all these years, died of smoke inhalation.
***
Stage 1
I met with Jeff on the other side. I was starting to fade, bodily. At this rate, I wouldn’t have ten days left to say goodbye.
What do all men who die young do? They spy on woman (at first).
Jeff caught a plane to Hollywood, and spied on the female movie stars.
“Don’t do this, Jeff,” I said, “You’ll regret not spending time with me, when you’ve wandered the Earth for longer.”
“You spied on girls, I bet,” said Jeff.
He had me there… of course, I did.
***
Stage 2
Jeff would be around for 15,000 years just like me. I’d read some of his writing. It was really rather good. A little naïve, lacking depth in knowledge of the opposite sex, but went as far as it could go without really analysis of human motives.
Jeff started to get depressed. He started to frequent opium dens, in China. He related to this. He also went to brothels, where the prostitutes worked for a pittance, and hated themselves despite the necessity of doing what they were doing; after all, they needed to be fed.
“Jeff,” I said, “Don’t bother going to dives… I did the same thing, and you end up looking for sweet moments… so why not save a tired, fading old man, and show him you are searching love, a prodigy, in this cracked, forlorn ghost-world.
***
Stage 3
As I faded, I saw Jeff venture from his opium dens, and search for love. He searched for birthday candles blew out, teenagers holding hands, marriage ceremonies, and watermelons, rockmelons, and grapes after school. He saw many things: widows, fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters. He tried to find every story on Earth: every interaction between the members of the human race in their diversity. I wanted to see more, but it was Jeff’s turn now. I’d had my turn.
| |
[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. | The fire consumed the house. Jeff, the last reader of my novella, which kept me remembered for all these years, died of smoke inhalation.
***
Stage 1
I met with Jeff on the other side. I was starting to fade, bodily. At this rate, I wouldn’t have ten days left to say goodbye.
What do all men who die young do? They spy on woman (at first).
Jeff caught a plane to Hollywood, and spied on the female movie stars.
“Don’t do this, Jeff,” I said, “You’ll regret not spending time with me, when you’ve wandered the Earth for longer.”
“You spied on girls, I bet,” said Jeff.
He had me there… of course, I did.
***
Stage 2
Jeff would be around for 15,000 years just like me. I’d read some of his writing. It was really rather good. A little naïve, lacking depth in knowledge of the opposite sex, but went as far as it could go without really analysis of human motives.
Jeff started to get depressed. He started to frequent opium dens, in China. He related to this. He also went to brothels, where the prostitutes worked for a pittance, and hated themselves despite the necessity of doing what they were doing; after all, they needed to be fed.
“Jeff,” I said, “Don’t bother going to dives… I did the same thing, and you end up looking for sweet moments… so why not save a tired, fading old man, and show him you are searching love, a prodigy, in this cracked, forlorn ghost-world.
***
Stage 3
As I faded, I saw Jeff venture from his opium dens, and search for love. He searched for birthday candles blew out, teenagers holding hands, marriage ceremonies, and watermelons, rockmelons, and grapes after school. He saw many things: widows, fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters. He tried to find every story on Earth: every interaction between the members of the human race in their diversity. I wanted to see more, but it was Jeff’s turn now. I’d had my turn.
| |
[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. | The bold greens of grass and trees stood out beautifully under the gentle blue of the open sky. The humming and buzzing of automobiles and electronics overpowered the serene silence as the dawn gave way to the bustle of early morning commutes.
The humidity of Summer was showing itself in sweat beads on foreheads and air conditioning boxes protruding from windows.
Tracey could feel none of it though. It had been more than a millennium since she had felt anything at all, at least of the physical realm.
Before her untimely death at the hands of an armed drug addict, mugging her for the twelve dollars in her wallet and her cell phone before he shot her in the head, Tracey had a very different idea of what the afterlife would be.
She had expected the other spirits, of course. She had not been alone when she 'awoke' on this plane. There was a sort of relief in that fact. She had been able to communicate and visit with other family and friends who had gone before her and then after her.
There was no ability to embrace one another, however and as time passed, the talking points that had seemed engaging or interesting in their previous lives lost importance.
As it turned out, this plane Tracey had passed into at her death was merely a temporary stop. No one really knew exactly what was next but once the last living person to remember you in life passed on, your spirit would shine briefly, for just a few human days, then you would simply and finally fade away.
After only a few short human months of endless time, Tracey, like most spirits, began to wish for her time to come.
It was not that she wished death on those she had left behind. It was that watching them live on and make their choices, both bad and good, could be both frustrating and tedious. She could no longer take part in their lives and it only led to a longing for a physical touch as she would see her loved ones tender moments.
Instead, Tracey had tried to fill her time with the travel she had never been able to afford in life. She would join other passed on loved ones and they would drift to countries and continents. She would float through the Louvre, trying to find the same passionate intrigue for art she had known when she still needed air in her lungs. She would bob and float over the rolling hills of Ireland.
When a living loved one whispered her name while recalling a memory, Tracey was forcibly pulled from wherever she had drifted back to whomever was thinking of her. These moments of being subjected to her loved ones grief caused an ache in Tracey that was as close to a physical feeling as she was able to manifest now. After several years, as more of her fellow spirits would fade into the wind, she began to resent those who kept her tied here.
She was certain, early on, that it would be only 80 or 90 years at most before she too could escape this purgatory. That, however, was before Professor Wallace and his Eternity chambers.
To be continued...
Edit: [Eternity in Limbo Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/NumbAndSelfLoathing/comments/6jy85x/eternity_in_limbo_part_2) | |
[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. | The bold greens of grass and trees stood out beautifully under the gentle blue of the open sky. The humming and buzzing of automobiles and electronics overpowered the serene silence as the dawn gave way to the bustle of early morning commutes.
The humidity of Summer was showing itself in sweat beads on foreheads and air conditioning boxes protruding from windows.
Tracey could feel none of it though. It had been more than a millennium since she had felt anything at all, at least of the physical realm.
Before her untimely death at the hands of an armed drug addict, mugging her for the twelve dollars in her wallet and her cell phone before he shot her in the head, Tracey had a very different idea of what the afterlife would be.
She had expected the other spirits, of course. She had not been alone when she 'awoke' on this plane. There was a sort of relief in that fact. She had been able to communicate and visit with other family and friends who had gone before her and then after her.
There was no ability to embrace one another, however and as time passed, the talking points that had seemed engaging or interesting in their previous lives lost importance.
As it turned out, this plane Tracey had passed into at her death was merely a temporary stop. No one really knew exactly what was next but once the last living person to remember you in life passed on, your spirit would shine briefly, for just a few human days, then you would simply and finally fade away.
After only a few short human months of endless time, Tracey, like most spirits, began to wish for her time to come.
It was not that she wished death on those she had left behind. It was that watching them live on and make their choices, both bad and good, could be both frustrating and tedious. She could no longer take part in their lives and it only led to a longing for a physical touch as she would see her loved ones tender moments.
Instead, Tracey had tried to fill her time with the travel she had never been able to afford in life. She would join other passed on loved ones and they would drift to countries and continents. She would float through the Louvre, trying to find the same passionate intrigue for art she had known when she still needed air in her lungs. She would bob and float over the rolling hills of Ireland.
When a living loved one whispered her name while recalling a memory, Tracey was forcibly pulled from wherever she had drifted back to whomever was thinking of her. These moments of being subjected to her loved ones grief caused an ache in Tracey that was as close to a physical feeling as she was able to manifest now. After several years, as more of her fellow spirits would fade into the wind, she began to resent those who kept her tied here.
She was certain, early on, that it would be only 80 or 90 years at most before she too could escape this purgatory. That, however, was before Professor Wallace and his Eternity chambers.
To be continued...
Edit: [Eternity in Limbo Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/NumbAndSelfLoathing/comments/6jy85x/eternity_in_limbo_part_2) | |
[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. | How long has it been? How long has it been, I don't remember anything anymore. Where, where am I? Who, Who am I? How am I still here? Who still remembers me? How can anyone still remember me, when even I've forgotten who I am. I don't belong here. I'm dead, I've been dead for as long as I can remember. But I don't remember, so for all I know this was always like this. I'm surrounded by millions, millions of departed souls still here. I can't speak to them, nor can I really see them. They all seem like shadowy splotches to me. Most of them are loud, screaming, panicking. But after a few minutes or years.. or decades.. or something. They all quiet down and they stand around staring blankly at nothing. Some, some after a while disappear. Some quicker than others, and some take a bit more time. But none, none of them stay as long as I have.
I sometimes think I remember my name, I think it was John. It was John, the accompanying pain makes me feel like it was. I think I had a wife, yes, no. I don't know. Alice is a name that feels right, must be because the pain is stronger now. I remember, Roads, I shouldn't have been driving. I didn't see it in time. Funny, what is time, I don't know what time is, I've been here for as long as I can remember.. but I don't re.. I remember. I couldn't stop, I should've stopped. why didn't I stopped? I'm hurting so bad now. I can't stand this pain, it's too much. How could I have forgotten? It was raining, I wasn't paying attention. "Honey, look out!" Alice screamed, Stop please I.. I remember. Why am I remembering this? any of this? I don't know why I'm still here, Who still remembers me? I.. think, I think I remember who I am.. I was. I can't, I can't, this pain ah! Make it stop! make it stop! I don't want to remember! Someone please, stop the hurting! I..
Um, I.. How.. How long has it been? Who, Who am I? Where am I? I don't remember anything anymore. How am I still here? I'm dead, I've been dead for as long as I can remember. But I don't remember, so for all I know this was always like this. Yes, it's always been like this. It's always been.. like this. It's always.. John?
End
(first time doing a prompt and I did a shity job, ehhh) | |
[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. | How long has it been? How long has it been, I don't remember anything anymore. Where, where am I? Who, Who am I? How am I still here? Who still remembers me? How can anyone still remember me, when even I've forgotten who I am. I don't belong here. I'm dead, I've been dead for as long as I can remember. But I don't remember, so for all I know this was always like this. I'm surrounded by millions, millions of departed souls still here. I can't speak to them, nor can I really see them. They all seem like shadowy splotches to me. Most of them are loud, screaming, panicking. But after a few minutes or years.. or decades.. or something. They all quiet down and they stand around staring blankly at nothing. Some, some after a while disappear. Some quicker than others, and some take a bit more time. But none, none of them stay as long as I have.
I sometimes think I remember my name, I think it was John. It was John, the accompanying pain makes me feel like it was. I think I had a wife, yes, no. I don't know. Alice is a name that feels right, must be because the pain is stronger now. I remember, Roads, I shouldn't have been driving. I didn't see it in time. Funny, what is time, I don't know what time is, I've been here for as long as I can remember.. but I don't re.. I remember. I couldn't stop, I should've stopped. why didn't I stopped? I'm hurting so bad now. I can't stand this pain, it's too much. How could I have forgotten? It was raining, I wasn't paying attention. "Honey, look out!" Alice screamed, Stop please I.. I remember. Why am I remembering this? any of this? I don't know why I'm still here, Who still remembers me? I.. think, I think I remember who I am.. I was. I can't, I can't, this pain ah! Make it stop! make it stop! I don't want to remember! Someone please, stop the hurting! I..
Um, I.. How.. How long has it been? Who, Who am I? Where am I? I don't remember anything anymore. How am I still here? I'm dead, I've been dead for as long as I can remember. But I don't remember, so for all I know this was always like this. Yes, it's always been like this. It's always been.. like this. It's always.. John?
End
(first time doing a prompt and I did a shity job, ehhh) | |
[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. | Times are hard for me. Things always move so fast. Language changes, culture changes, even ,despite what people with approximately 15000 years less experience than me will tell you, people change. It's hard to keep up. Though I'm kind of forced too, the only thing more boring than watching a movie with the runtime of millennia is watching one you don't understand. It would be more bearable if I had had any effect on history's course, then I might feel invested in how it turns out. Like a good, if slow paced, tv series. But I didn't. No children, no great deeds, no monstrosities. But I'm doomed to remain here until people forget me. As despite my unremarkable life you will have heard of me, everyone has.
I grew up in what people now refer to as Palestine, though I knew it as somethings guarantee you can't pronounce. My dad was a horse breeder. One of the first to look at those massive four legged freaks and want to sit one it's back. To make it easier he developed a leather sheet to put over its back to make it easier. A saddle. I was fascinated by it, and bring too young to ride a horse I would just sit on it on the floor. A precursor to the modern chair if you will. Then one caused fateful day, still told around the world I saw a snake it lunged at me. To escape it's deadly maw I leant back on my "chair" and broke my skull on a rock behind.
| |
[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. | Times are hard for me. Things always move so fast. Language changes, culture changes, even ,despite what people with approximately 15000 years less experience than me will tell you, people change. It's hard to keep up. Though I'm kind of forced too, the only thing more boring than watching a movie with the runtime of millennia is watching one you don't understand. It would be more bearable if I had had any effect on history's course, then I might feel invested in how it turns out. Like a good, if slow paced, tv series. But I didn't. No children, no great deeds, no monstrosities. But I'm doomed to remain here until people forget me. As despite my unremarkable life you will have heard of me, everyone has.
I grew up in what people now refer to as Palestine, though I knew it as somethings guarantee you can't pronounce. My dad was a horse breeder. One of the first to look at those massive four legged freaks and want to sit one it's back. To make it easier he developed a leather sheet to put over its back to make it easier. A saddle. I was fascinated by it, and bring too young to ride a horse I would just sit on it on the floor. A precursor to the modern chair if you will. Then one caused fateful day, still told around the world I saw a snake it lunged at me. To escape it's deadly maw I leant back on my "chair" and broke my skull on a rock behind.
| |
[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. | "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. | |
[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.
| "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. | |
[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." | "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. | |
[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. | "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. | |
[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 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.
| |
[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 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." | |
[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. | "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!
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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.
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"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."
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*Ah... Maybe it's not that bad... I hope I get to see... how much humanity... progresses into... the better future.*
| |
[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. | "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. | |
[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. | 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. | |
[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. | **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.
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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. | |
[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 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. | |
[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.
| 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. | |
[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." | 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. | |
[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..." | 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. | |
[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. | 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. | |
[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. | 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.
| |
[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. | Sitting in the sand, I glanced out at my likeness. Standing in the desert as it has for many an eon. People walk around past me, not knowing I'm there. Taking pictures of me, taking selfies in front of me. So I am still here, watching all of this take place.
People remember me. Yet they do not know my name. They know my image, as it was carved into the landscape so long before their time. I watched others build monuments around my edifice. These stone pyramids came and stand tall around me.
Still I sit.
It was so long ago that I was left here, alone.
Yet, at one point, those people, those humans, they altered me.
And she sits here next to me, because they put her face on my body. I look up at her, she looks down at me.
Then we look back at the monument. Being rebuilt before us. We know that we will be here so much longer than the loved ones who have who came after us. So much longer than the many millions of people who continue to gaze upon us, sitting there in stone...
In the Egyptian desert, on the edge of Cairo.
I'm quite happy I can't feel the heat.
| As I stay on this plane of existence my brain tremors as the thoughts of my mind plague me. How long must I stay here, how long must it be? It has been far to long much to long for me.
All I discovered was why apples fall from trees. | |
[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 was young when it all happened. A thief in the night had claimed my life and my blood had been spilled onto the ground. I remembered all of the steps after when my body was bitten and drained of all blood and just torn asunder like I was just some sack of meat to be had. It all happened right after I had seen Simon- the vampire I had grown to love in my town.
I got to explore so many places like he had without any needs to avoid the sun or to crave anything. I met with many figures I had studied in my schooling days and became friends with quite a few. I had seen change happen over the course of time- time I lost track of rather quickly. To me, I finally got the change of a lifetime to see the world that Simon described to me through his tales of the Earth we both shared. I finally understood why he encouraged me to explore and am thankful he did.
Time crawled onward and I could see from the sidelines how countries rose and fell. Things certainly were not going to be like 2017 anymore and it was bittersweet to see that. My family that I had eventually passed away and I could wave them goodbye as they all were able to be free from the shackles of this realm. I encouraged their leaving and also waited for my turn. In due time, I knew I would have my time to leave too.
But it never came.
In fact, 15,000 years had passed and I still remained here. I got to see the same figures I had met like Miss Anne Frank, Marie Laveau, Theodore Roosevelt, and even Edgar Allan Poe when he wanted to show up. They all wondered who could have possibly been alive to keep me here as I would sit with them and think long and hard about who could possibly have been alive to remember me to this day. I talked to each and every one of them about how I had died as they all did ask, and described the night before I had died.
Each felt warm and had softened at the tale of how Simon and I had walked around town under the full moon and danced around the clocktower that was in the middle of my town. I was clumsy and could not dance well while I was alive, but he had been patient with me and hummed soft music while leading me through a waltz under the stars. It was one of the best nights in my life despite what happened afterwards. Because I felt so loved and cared for during those last moments, and I knew Simon could relate. When escorting me home, he kept me close and safe before letting me go with a kiss on the hand and a proposition to return the next night.
I agreed and we left each other's company- a fatal mistake it would be for me.
Then it hit me like a bat to the head, perhaps unneeded to travel home for a change and investigate there. So I said goodbyes to the individuals I had grown to know during my afterlife and traveled back to my hometown that held the clocktower in the middle. To my delight, the clocktower had still been there despite the many changes in the town that I had seen. It felt so foreign to me, but I shook the memories I had off and traveled to the clocktower where Simon was hopefully living.
How I had not understood that it was most likely Simon keeping me here, I did not know. Perhaps it was because I did not gain any intelligence after the afterlife to think that a vampire still kept me in his memory? It did not matter much now as I went to the switch that was by the clocktower and turned it before entering the door into a grande estate and began calling for the vampire I remembered so well, "Simon! Simon!" I wandered the familiar halls in hopes he could hear me. Since vampires were technically not alive either, they should be able to hear me, right?
So I traveled from the guest and mater bedroom to find a portrait of me had been made in his room. I could not help but grow a saddened smile as my suspicions were correct. After investigating the greenery room, I made my way into the library and heard the familiar humming as I peeked up and called out to the keeper of this estate again, "Simon! Simon, are you here??"
I could see the familiar man with darkened hair and slender body as he looked my way and stopped dead in his tracks when cleaning. He looked like he had seen a ghost, and he was right to appear that way as I could not help myself and ran to him, trying to hug him but not gaining any success as his voice cracked slightly with the shock and excitement he felt, "Soleil! How are you even here?! Shouldn't you be prancing around heaven or something like that, young lady!? Do you realize how much time has passed??"
I could not help but laugh when hearing the change in Simon's voice as I smiled happily at him and responded with a serene tone, "I already am Simon. Also, I do realize how much time has passed. I keep track of it since I cannot leave here. It has been 15,000 years since it all ended and began." At those words, I could see Simon's excitement and expression drop at the mentioning of how long it truly had been and thought to himself before bowing his head and nodding slowly.
"Yes... It truly has been that long, hasn't it Soleil? I want to apologize to you. For not figuring out what would happen and not trying to save you from that horrible fate. I wished with all of my might that he could have left you be or perhaps spare you long enough for me to let you join me in a different manner than as a spirit." I could tell this topic was a sore spot and I gently reached out to him. Even though he could not feel my touch, he understood the gesture and looked up to me again with an apologetic look in his eyes before I responded.
"Simon, instead of sulking here like a little bat, let's try to make the best of this and stay in each other's lives once more? We both technically have achieved immortality in a sense. Let's make the best of our time before you eventually go?" A smile slowly grew on Simon's face as he nodded his head and responded with the softest of voices,
"Yes. Let's do that this time, Soleil." | As I stay on this plane of existence my brain tremors as the thoughts of my mind plague me. How long must I stay here, how long must it be? It has been far to long much to long for me.
All I discovered was why apples fall from trees. | |
[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 a stupid video. Something I did for fun to test out my new webcam. I wasn't looking for attention in anyway, and didn't really think much when I uploaded it to the web. In fact, at the time there wasn't much around that let you save your videos and I didn't have an external backup drive so I simply uploaded it to the internet for safe-keeping. But this was before things could go viral, or so I naively assumed.
Now I'm a 15,000 year-old ghost and still as much of an internet sensation. But the internet has greatly evolved and my little video has gained immeasurable attention. You see, around 14,000+ years ago, they started blasting essences of pop culture into outer space in hopes of reaching out to alien civilizations. In a stroke of luck, one such civilization picked up the signal (which included my silly video) and began sharing it to all other known races across the universe.
Now, I'm more famous than any Earthly historical figure. All by chance. Now I'm screwed.
All I wanted was to dance to the Numa Numa song.... | As I stay on this plane of existence my brain tremors as the thoughts of my mind plague me. How long must I stay here, how long must it be? It has been far to long much to long for me.
All I discovered was why apples fall from trees. | |
[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. | When I breathed, war was Hell.
Now, Hell is history. Quotations are fetters, memorials are a crushing weight keeping me from heaven.
And "Never forget" is the curse the living lay upon the dead. Every name read, every bell tolled, the torment of the unquiet spirits. A bundle of flowers, the most beautiful nail keeping my coffin closed.
It is why necromancers so easily find ones who only want to destroy the living. We want to be forgotten, to know the sweet breeze of oblivion and release- and if you are all dead, who will there be to remember us?
I would tell you my name, but it would only prolong the suffering. | As I stay on this plane of existence my brain tremors as the thoughts of my mind plague me. How long must I stay here, how long must it be? It has been far to long much to long for me.
All I discovered was why apples fall from trees. | |
[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 is a long time. It's certainly much longer than most of my kind are capable of thinking in. Today, most of them say that it is the year "2017 AD." I, however, can remember people who said it was "747 AVC." I could remember even farther back to a time and place when it was said to be "the 37th year of the reign of Sargon" and further beyond that to the very fist time a woman etched "Year 1" into a rock to track the history of her farming village. That barely even scratched the surface.
It had been 15,000 years since a boar's tusk had pierced my shoulder while trying to catch one for the farm on the river bank. 15,000 years since the festering infection had claimed my body and my life. 14,800 years since the absolute most generous estimates should've sent me on from this world. I was still here.
Ghosts are tethered to the living. When the last person who remembers you dies, you finally vanish. In my day this meant a particularly legendary figure might last 7 generations. An exceptionally old person might last 4-5. More recent people like Alexander the Great had lasted thousands of years thanks to the invention of written history
So far as I knew, the last person to know me alive must have died on that little farm on the banks of the Eruk, well most people called it the "Tigris" these days.
In the last 15,000 years I'd done a lot. Ghosts don't have the superpowers people imagine us with. We're basically just humans that fluctuate in and out of visibility and corporeality. So I can walk through walls, but I've gotta walk like anyone else. No flying, no apparating, no possessing the living, just walking. That's fine by me, you can sneak on to most forms of transit when you're invisible. I remember walking westward, following the sun to see where it landed after my Great-great niece died. I ended up in the luscious and green Sahara with a much better understanding of science than anyone else would develop for a few thousand years. I haven't really stopped walking since and am proud to say that I think I've covered the entire Earth, twice for most places
I hadn't been visible in about 1200 years. Too many religions started that way. I switch over to tangibility all the time though to do little guardian angel type things from fishing someone's keys out of the pool and onto their towel to pulling the firing pin out of a soldier's gun for an innocent family. Little things, sometimes big consequences. My whole afterlife chnaged while doing the latter.
I had recently made the trek home to Eruk, or Mesopotamia, or Iraq, or whatever it's called these days. It was the biggest shitshow I'd seen there since the Mongols. I pulled the firing pin out of a ISIS militant's gun while he was looking down the barrel at a Yazidi woman. The distraction was just long enough for a government soldier to take a shot at the militant. I almost didn't look, but when I did, I saw the soldier's face. He wasn't Arab, his facial features were too broad, his hair too tightly curled, and his skin too dark. He looked like me...
I quickly became visible, standing strange and anachronistic in my animal skin kilt with an apparent wound in my shoulder. My unevenly chopped hair cropped close to my skull and a short and curly beard was similar cut around my jaw. A tattoo adorned my right shoulder, a family symbol of a sort. I saw the recognition in his eyes and the fear of one who has seen a ghost. The soldier's gun fell, but he didnt seem to notice as his hand clutched his own right shoulder.
I knew at that moment, that soldier knew me. He was from Eruk. He was 15,000 years old, and for some reason he was still alive.
| As I stay on this plane of existence my brain tremors as the thoughts of my mind plague me. How long must I stay here, how long must it be? It has been far to long much to long for me.
All I discovered was why apples fall from trees. | |
[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 think it's been 15,000 years. Or at least, somewhere around that. I'm not really sure. I haven't left the house in a few millennia at least. There's no point. All I end up doing is scaring a few people, and death goes on. Besides, no matter where I go, it's crowded.
The space issue gets worse in the big cities, and don't even get me started on India and most of Asia. It isn't as bad in the remote regions of the world; Antarctica was only recently populated. I'd say 4000 years ago, give or take a few decades.
15,000 years ago, I was caught in an apartment fire. I woke up and passed out within a minute or two. It actually wasn't that bad. Just a sore throat for a bit. The living don't know it, but there is an after life. To reach it, all you have to do is pass out of memory.
For the big guys like the pharoahs and kings, the great philosophers and warlords, it's been even longer. The trappings of history have bound them forever. As long as there stands a museum dedicated to them, they remain. They make for ok company.
I was just a normal guy from a place that used to be called Virginia. I should have been on my way a few decades after I died. It took me a long time to figure it out, but eventually it dawned on me and all of the other millions of lost souls.
Being able to connect with everyone around the world instantaneously is awesome when you're alive. If you're dead, a digital you is floating around out there, remembered eternally on the almighty internet.
Most of us have accepted it, so we patiently wait for an apocalypse. We pray for the end of all things, and curse Mark Zuckerberg. | As I stay on this plane of existence my brain tremors as the thoughts of my mind plague me. How long must I stay here, how long must it be? It has been far to long much to long for me.
All I discovered was why apples fall from trees. | |
[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. | As I stay on this plane of existence my brain tremors as the thoughts of my mind plague me. How long must I stay here, how long must it be? It has been far to long much to long for me.
All I discovered was why apples fall from trees. | |
[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 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. | |
[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. | 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 | |
[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. | 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..." | |
[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. | Sitting in the sand, I glanced out at my likeness. Standing in the desert as it has for many an eon. People walk around past me, not knowing I'm there. Taking pictures of me, taking selfies in front of me. So I am still here, watching all of this take place.
People remember me. Yet they do not know my name. They know my image, as it was carved into the landscape so long before their time. I watched others build monuments around my edifice. These stone pyramids came and stand tall around me.
Still I sit.
It was so long ago that I was left here, alone.
Yet, at one point, those people, those humans, they altered me.
And she sits here next to me, because they put her face on my body. I look up at her, she looks down at me.
Then we look back at the monument. Being rebuilt before us. We know that we will be here so much longer than the loved ones who have who came after us. So much longer than the many millions of people who continue to gaze upon us, sitting there in stone...
In the Egyptian desert, on the edge of Cairo.
I'm quite happy I can't feel the heat.
| |
[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 a stupid video. Something I did for fun to test out my new webcam. I wasn't looking for attention in anyway, and didn't really think much when I uploaded it to the web. In fact, at the time there wasn't much around that let you save your videos and I didn't have an external backup drive so I simply uploaded it to the internet for safe-keeping. But this was before things could go viral, or so I naively assumed.
Now I'm a 15,000 year-old ghost and still as much of an internet sensation. But the internet has greatly evolved and my little video has gained immeasurable attention. You see, around 14,000+ years ago, they started blasting essences of pop culture into outer space in hopes of reaching out to alien civilizations. In a stroke of luck, one such civilization picked up the signal (which included my silly video) and began sharing it to all other known races across the universe.
Now, I'm more famous than any Earthly historical figure. All by chance. Now I'm screwed.
All I wanted was to dance to the Numa Numa song.... | I was young when it all happened. A thief in the night had claimed my life and my blood had been spilled onto the ground. I remembered all of the steps after when my body was bitten and drained of all blood and just torn asunder like I was just some sack of meat to be had. It all happened right after I had seen Simon- the vampire I had grown to love in my town.
I got to explore so many places like he had without any needs to avoid the sun or to crave anything. I met with many figures I had studied in my schooling days and became friends with quite a few. I had seen change happen over the course of time- time I lost track of rather quickly. To me, I finally got the change of a lifetime to see the world that Simon described to me through his tales of the Earth we both shared. I finally understood why he encouraged me to explore and am thankful he did.
Time crawled onward and I could see from the sidelines how countries rose and fell. Things certainly were not going to be like 2017 anymore and it was bittersweet to see that. My family that I had eventually passed away and I could wave them goodbye as they all were able to be free from the shackles of this realm. I encouraged their leaving and also waited for my turn. In due time, I knew I would have my time to leave too.
But it never came.
In fact, 15,000 years had passed and I still remained here. I got to see the same figures I had met like Miss Anne Frank, Marie Laveau, Theodore Roosevelt, and even Edgar Allan Poe when he wanted to show up. They all wondered who could have possibly been alive to keep me here as I would sit with them and think long and hard about who could possibly have been alive to remember me to this day. I talked to each and every one of them about how I had died as they all did ask, and described the night before I had died.
Each felt warm and had softened at the tale of how Simon and I had walked around town under the full moon and danced around the clocktower that was in the middle of my town. I was clumsy and could not dance well while I was alive, but he had been patient with me and hummed soft music while leading me through a waltz under the stars. It was one of the best nights in my life despite what happened afterwards. Because I felt so loved and cared for during those last moments, and I knew Simon could relate. When escorting me home, he kept me close and safe before letting me go with a kiss on the hand and a proposition to return the next night.
I agreed and we left each other's company- a fatal mistake it would be for me.
Then it hit me like a bat to the head, perhaps unneeded to travel home for a change and investigate there. So I said goodbyes to the individuals I had grown to know during my afterlife and traveled back to my hometown that held the clocktower in the middle. To my delight, the clocktower had still been there despite the many changes in the town that I had seen. It felt so foreign to me, but I shook the memories I had off and traveled to the clocktower where Simon was hopefully living.
How I had not understood that it was most likely Simon keeping me here, I did not know. Perhaps it was because I did not gain any intelligence after the afterlife to think that a vampire still kept me in his memory? It did not matter much now as I went to the switch that was by the clocktower and turned it before entering the door into a grande estate and began calling for the vampire I remembered so well, "Simon! Simon!" I wandered the familiar halls in hopes he could hear me. Since vampires were technically not alive either, they should be able to hear me, right?
So I traveled from the guest and mater bedroom to find a portrait of me had been made in his room. I could not help but grow a saddened smile as my suspicions were correct. After investigating the greenery room, I made my way into the library and heard the familiar humming as I peeked up and called out to the keeper of this estate again, "Simon! Simon, are you here??"
I could see the familiar man with darkened hair and slender body as he looked my way and stopped dead in his tracks when cleaning. He looked like he had seen a ghost, and he was right to appear that way as I could not help myself and ran to him, trying to hug him but not gaining any success as his voice cracked slightly with the shock and excitement he felt, "Soleil! How are you even here?! Shouldn't you be prancing around heaven or something like that, young lady!? Do you realize how much time has passed??"
I could not help but laugh when hearing the change in Simon's voice as I smiled happily at him and responded with a serene tone, "I already am Simon. Also, I do realize how much time has passed. I keep track of it since I cannot leave here. It has been 15,000 years since it all ended and began." At those words, I could see Simon's excitement and expression drop at the mentioning of how long it truly had been and thought to himself before bowing his head and nodding slowly.
"Yes... It truly has been that long, hasn't it Soleil? I want to apologize to you. For not figuring out what would happen and not trying to save you from that horrible fate. I wished with all of my might that he could have left you be or perhaps spare you long enough for me to let you join me in a different manner than as a spirit." I could tell this topic was a sore spot and I gently reached out to him. Even though he could not feel my touch, he understood the gesture and looked up to me again with an apologetic look in his eyes before I responded.
"Simon, instead of sulking here like a little bat, let's try to make the best of this and stay in each other's lives once more? We both technically have achieved immortality in a sense. Let's make the best of our time before you eventually go?" A smile slowly grew on Simon's face as he nodded his head and responded with the softest of voices,
"Yes. Let's do that this time, Soleil." | |
[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. | When I breathed, war was Hell.
Now, Hell is history. Quotations are fetters, memorials are a crushing weight keeping me from heaven.
And "Never forget" is the curse the living lay upon the dead. Every name read, every bell tolled, the torment of the unquiet spirits. A bundle of flowers, the most beautiful nail keeping my coffin closed.
It is why necromancers so easily find ones who only want to destroy the living. We want to be forgotten, to know the sweet breeze of oblivion and release- and if you are all dead, who will there be to remember us?
I would tell you my name, but it would only prolong the suffering. | I was young when it all happened. A thief in the night had claimed my life and my blood had been spilled onto the ground. I remembered all of the steps after when my body was bitten and drained of all blood and just torn asunder like I was just some sack of meat to be had. It all happened right after I had seen Simon- the vampire I had grown to love in my town.
I got to explore so many places like he had without any needs to avoid the sun or to crave anything. I met with many figures I had studied in my schooling days and became friends with quite a few. I had seen change happen over the course of time- time I lost track of rather quickly. To me, I finally got the change of a lifetime to see the world that Simon described to me through his tales of the Earth we both shared. I finally understood why he encouraged me to explore and am thankful he did.
Time crawled onward and I could see from the sidelines how countries rose and fell. Things certainly were not going to be like 2017 anymore and it was bittersweet to see that. My family that I had eventually passed away and I could wave them goodbye as they all were able to be free from the shackles of this realm. I encouraged their leaving and also waited for my turn. In due time, I knew I would have my time to leave too.
But it never came.
In fact, 15,000 years had passed and I still remained here. I got to see the same figures I had met like Miss Anne Frank, Marie Laveau, Theodore Roosevelt, and even Edgar Allan Poe when he wanted to show up. They all wondered who could have possibly been alive to keep me here as I would sit with them and think long and hard about who could possibly have been alive to remember me to this day. I talked to each and every one of them about how I had died as they all did ask, and described the night before I had died.
Each felt warm and had softened at the tale of how Simon and I had walked around town under the full moon and danced around the clocktower that was in the middle of my town. I was clumsy and could not dance well while I was alive, but he had been patient with me and hummed soft music while leading me through a waltz under the stars. It was one of the best nights in my life despite what happened afterwards. Because I felt so loved and cared for during those last moments, and I knew Simon could relate. When escorting me home, he kept me close and safe before letting me go with a kiss on the hand and a proposition to return the next night.
I agreed and we left each other's company- a fatal mistake it would be for me.
Then it hit me like a bat to the head, perhaps unneeded to travel home for a change and investigate there. So I said goodbyes to the individuals I had grown to know during my afterlife and traveled back to my hometown that held the clocktower in the middle. To my delight, the clocktower had still been there despite the many changes in the town that I had seen. It felt so foreign to me, but I shook the memories I had off and traveled to the clocktower where Simon was hopefully living.
How I had not understood that it was most likely Simon keeping me here, I did not know. Perhaps it was because I did not gain any intelligence after the afterlife to think that a vampire still kept me in his memory? It did not matter much now as I went to the switch that was by the clocktower and turned it before entering the door into a grande estate and began calling for the vampire I remembered so well, "Simon! Simon!" I wandered the familiar halls in hopes he could hear me. Since vampires were technically not alive either, they should be able to hear me, right?
So I traveled from the guest and mater bedroom to find a portrait of me had been made in his room. I could not help but grow a saddened smile as my suspicions were correct. After investigating the greenery room, I made my way into the library and heard the familiar humming as I peeked up and called out to the keeper of this estate again, "Simon! Simon, are you here??"
I could see the familiar man with darkened hair and slender body as he looked my way and stopped dead in his tracks when cleaning. He looked like he had seen a ghost, and he was right to appear that way as I could not help myself and ran to him, trying to hug him but not gaining any success as his voice cracked slightly with the shock and excitement he felt, "Soleil! How are you even here?! Shouldn't you be prancing around heaven or something like that, young lady!? Do you realize how much time has passed??"
I could not help but laugh when hearing the change in Simon's voice as I smiled happily at him and responded with a serene tone, "I already am Simon. Also, I do realize how much time has passed. I keep track of it since I cannot leave here. It has been 15,000 years since it all ended and began." At those words, I could see Simon's excitement and expression drop at the mentioning of how long it truly had been and thought to himself before bowing his head and nodding slowly.
"Yes... It truly has been that long, hasn't it Soleil? I want to apologize to you. For not figuring out what would happen and not trying to save you from that horrible fate. I wished with all of my might that he could have left you be or perhaps spare you long enough for me to let you join me in a different manner than as a spirit." I could tell this topic was a sore spot and I gently reached out to him. Even though he could not feel my touch, he understood the gesture and looked up to me again with an apologetic look in his eyes before I responded.
"Simon, instead of sulking here like a little bat, let's try to make the best of this and stay in each other's lives once more? We both technically have achieved immortality in a sense. Let's make the best of our time before you eventually go?" A smile slowly grew on Simon's face as he nodded his head and responded with the softest of voices,
"Yes. Let's do that this time, Soleil." | |
[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 is a long time. It's certainly much longer than most of my kind are capable of thinking in. Today, most of them say that it is the year "2017 AD." I, however, can remember people who said it was "747 AVC." I could remember even farther back to a time and place when it was said to be "the 37th year of the reign of Sargon" and further beyond that to the very fist time a woman etched "Year 1" into a rock to track the history of her farming village. That barely even scratched the surface.
It had been 15,000 years since a boar's tusk had pierced my shoulder while trying to catch one for the farm on the river bank. 15,000 years since the festering infection had claimed my body and my life. 14,800 years since the absolute most generous estimates should've sent me on from this world. I was still here.
Ghosts are tethered to the living. When the last person who remembers you dies, you finally vanish. In my day this meant a particularly legendary figure might last 7 generations. An exceptionally old person might last 4-5. More recent people like Alexander the Great had lasted thousands of years thanks to the invention of written history
So far as I knew, the last person to know me alive must have died on that little farm on the banks of the Eruk, well most people called it the "Tigris" these days.
In the last 15,000 years I'd done a lot. Ghosts don't have the superpowers people imagine us with. We're basically just humans that fluctuate in and out of visibility and corporeality. So I can walk through walls, but I've gotta walk like anyone else. No flying, no apparating, no possessing the living, just walking. That's fine by me, you can sneak on to most forms of transit when you're invisible. I remember walking westward, following the sun to see where it landed after my Great-great niece died. I ended up in the luscious and green Sahara with a much better understanding of science than anyone else would develop for a few thousand years. I haven't really stopped walking since and am proud to say that I think I've covered the entire Earth, twice for most places
I hadn't been visible in about 1200 years. Too many religions started that way. I switch over to tangibility all the time though to do little guardian angel type things from fishing someone's keys out of the pool and onto their towel to pulling the firing pin out of a soldier's gun for an innocent family. Little things, sometimes big consequences. My whole afterlife chnaged while doing the latter.
I had recently made the trek home to Eruk, or Mesopotamia, or Iraq, or whatever it's called these days. It was the biggest shitshow I'd seen there since the Mongols. I pulled the firing pin out of a ISIS militant's gun while he was looking down the barrel at a Yazidi woman. The distraction was just long enough for a government soldier to take a shot at the militant. I almost didn't look, but when I did, I saw the soldier's face. He wasn't Arab, his facial features were too broad, his hair too tightly curled, and his skin too dark. He looked like me...
I quickly became visible, standing strange and anachronistic in my animal skin kilt with an apparent wound in my shoulder. My unevenly chopped hair cropped close to my skull and a short and curly beard was similar cut around my jaw. A tattoo adorned my right shoulder, a family symbol of a sort. I saw the recognition in his eyes and the fear of one who has seen a ghost. The soldier's gun fell, but he didnt seem to notice as his hand clutched his own right shoulder.
I knew at that moment, that soldier knew me. He was from Eruk. He was 15,000 years old, and for some reason he was still alive.
| I was young when it all happened. A thief in the night had claimed my life and my blood had been spilled onto the ground. I remembered all of the steps after when my body was bitten and drained of all blood and just torn asunder like I was just some sack of meat to be had. It all happened right after I had seen Simon- the vampire I had grown to love in my town.
I got to explore so many places like he had without any needs to avoid the sun or to crave anything. I met with many figures I had studied in my schooling days and became friends with quite a few. I had seen change happen over the course of time- time I lost track of rather quickly. To me, I finally got the change of a lifetime to see the world that Simon described to me through his tales of the Earth we both shared. I finally understood why he encouraged me to explore and am thankful he did.
Time crawled onward and I could see from the sidelines how countries rose and fell. Things certainly were not going to be like 2017 anymore and it was bittersweet to see that. My family that I had eventually passed away and I could wave them goodbye as they all were able to be free from the shackles of this realm. I encouraged their leaving and also waited for my turn. In due time, I knew I would have my time to leave too.
But it never came.
In fact, 15,000 years had passed and I still remained here. I got to see the same figures I had met like Miss Anne Frank, Marie Laveau, Theodore Roosevelt, and even Edgar Allan Poe when he wanted to show up. They all wondered who could have possibly been alive to keep me here as I would sit with them and think long and hard about who could possibly have been alive to remember me to this day. I talked to each and every one of them about how I had died as they all did ask, and described the night before I had died.
Each felt warm and had softened at the tale of how Simon and I had walked around town under the full moon and danced around the clocktower that was in the middle of my town. I was clumsy and could not dance well while I was alive, but he had been patient with me and hummed soft music while leading me through a waltz under the stars. It was one of the best nights in my life despite what happened afterwards. Because I felt so loved and cared for during those last moments, and I knew Simon could relate. When escorting me home, he kept me close and safe before letting me go with a kiss on the hand and a proposition to return the next night.
I agreed and we left each other's company- a fatal mistake it would be for me.
Then it hit me like a bat to the head, perhaps unneeded to travel home for a change and investigate there. So I said goodbyes to the individuals I had grown to know during my afterlife and traveled back to my hometown that held the clocktower in the middle. To my delight, the clocktower had still been there despite the many changes in the town that I had seen. It felt so foreign to me, but I shook the memories I had off and traveled to the clocktower where Simon was hopefully living.
How I had not understood that it was most likely Simon keeping me here, I did not know. Perhaps it was because I did not gain any intelligence after the afterlife to think that a vampire still kept me in his memory? It did not matter much now as I went to the switch that was by the clocktower and turned it before entering the door into a grande estate and began calling for the vampire I remembered so well, "Simon! Simon!" I wandered the familiar halls in hopes he could hear me. Since vampires were technically not alive either, they should be able to hear me, right?
So I traveled from the guest and mater bedroom to find a portrait of me had been made in his room. I could not help but grow a saddened smile as my suspicions were correct. After investigating the greenery room, I made my way into the library and heard the familiar humming as I peeked up and called out to the keeper of this estate again, "Simon! Simon, are you here??"
I could see the familiar man with darkened hair and slender body as he looked my way and stopped dead in his tracks when cleaning. He looked like he had seen a ghost, and he was right to appear that way as I could not help myself and ran to him, trying to hug him but not gaining any success as his voice cracked slightly with the shock and excitement he felt, "Soleil! How are you even here?! Shouldn't you be prancing around heaven or something like that, young lady!? Do you realize how much time has passed??"
I could not help but laugh when hearing the change in Simon's voice as I smiled happily at him and responded with a serene tone, "I already am Simon. Also, I do realize how much time has passed. I keep track of it since I cannot leave here. It has been 15,000 years since it all ended and began." At those words, I could see Simon's excitement and expression drop at the mentioning of how long it truly had been and thought to himself before bowing his head and nodding slowly.
"Yes... It truly has been that long, hasn't it Soleil? I want to apologize to you. For not figuring out what would happen and not trying to save you from that horrible fate. I wished with all of my might that he could have left you be or perhaps spare you long enough for me to let you join me in a different manner than as a spirit." I could tell this topic was a sore spot and I gently reached out to him. Even though he could not feel my touch, he understood the gesture and looked up to me again with an apologetic look in his eyes before I responded.
"Simon, instead of sulking here like a little bat, let's try to make the best of this and stay in each other's lives once more? We both technically have achieved immortality in a sense. Let's make the best of our time before you eventually go?" A smile slowly grew on Simon's face as he nodded his head and responded with the softest of voices,
"Yes. Let's do that this time, Soleil." | |
[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 think it's been 15,000 years. Or at least, somewhere around that. I'm not really sure. I haven't left the house in a few millennia at least. There's no point. All I end up doing is scaring a few people, and death goes on. Besides, no matter where I go, it's crowded.
The space issue gets worse in the big cities, and don't even get me started on India and most of Asia. It isn't as bad in the remote regions of the world; Antarctica was only recently populated. I'd say 4000 years ago, give or take a few decades.
15,000 years ago, I was caught in an apartment fire. I woke up and passed out within a minute or two. It actually wasn't that bad. Just a sore throat for a bit. The living don't know it, but there is an after life. To reach it, all you have to do is pass out of memory.
For the big guys like the pharoahs and kings, the great philosophers and warlords, it's been even longer. The trappings of history have bound them forever. As long as there stands a museum dedicated to them, they remain. They make for ok company.
I was just a normal guy from a place that used to be called Virginia. I should have been on my way a few decades after I died. It took me a long time to figure it out, but eventually it dawned on me and all of the other millions of lost souls.
Being able to connect with everyone around the world instantaneously is awesome when you're alive. If you're dead, a digital you is floating around out there, remembered eternally on the almighty internet.
Most of us have accepted it, so we patiently wait for an apocalypse. We pray for the end of all things, and curse Mark Zuckerberg. | I was young when it all happened. A thief in the night had claimed my life and my blood had been spilled onto the ground. I remembered all of the steps after when my body was bitten and drained of all blood and just torn asunder like I was just some sack of meat to be had. It all happened right after I had seen Simon- the vampire I had grown to love in my town.
I got to explore so many places like he had without any needs to avoid the sun or to crave anything. I met with many figures I had studied in my schooling days and became friends with quite a few. I had seen change happen over the course of time- time I lost track of rather quickly. To me, I finally got the change of a lifetime to see the world that Simon described to me through his tales of the Earth we both shared. I finally understood why he encouraged me to explore and am thankful he did.
Time crawled onward and I could see from the sidelines how countries rose and fell. Things certainly were not going to be like 2017 anymore and it was bittersweet to see that. My family that I had eventually passed away and I could wave them goodbye as they all were able to be free from the shackles of this realm. I encouraged their leaving and also waited for my turn. In due time, I knew I would have my time to leave too.
But it never came.
In fact, 15,000 years had passed and I still remained here. I got to see the same figures I had met like Miss Anne Frank, Marie Laveau, Theodore Roosevelt, and even Edgar Allan Poe when he wanted to show up. They all wondered who could have possibly been alive to keep me here as I would sit with them and think long and hard about who could possibly have been alive to remember me to this day. I talked to each and every one of them about how I had died as they all did ask, and described the night before I had died.
Each felt warm and had softened at the tale of how Simon and I had walked around town under the full moon and danced around the clocktower that was in the middle of my town. I was clumsy and could not dance well while I was alive, but he had been patient with me and hummed soft music while leading me through a waltz under the stars. It was one of the best nights in my life despite what happened afterwards. Because I felt so loved and cared for during those last moments, and I knew Simon could relate. When escorting me home, he kept me close and safe before letting me go with a kiss on the hand and a proposition to return the next night.
I agreed and we left each other's company- a fatal mistake it would be for me.
Then it hit me like a bat to the head, perhaps unneeded to travel home for a change and investigate there. So I said goodbyes to the individuals I had grown to know during my afterlife and traveled back to my hometown that held the clocktower in the middle. To my delight, the clocktower had still been there despite the many changes in the town that I had seen. It felt so foreign to me, but I shook the memories I had off and traveled to the clocktower where Simon was hopefully living.
How I had not understood that it was most likely Simon keeping me here, I did not know. Perhaps it was because I did not gain any intelligence after the afterlife to think that a vampire still kept me in his memory? It did not matter much now as I went to the switch that was by the clocktower and turned it before entering the door into a grande estate and began calling for the vampire I remembered so well, "Simon! Simon!" I wandered the familiar halls in hopes he could hear me. Since vampires were technically not alive either, they should be able to hear me, right?
So I traveled from the guest and mater bedroom to find a portrait of me had been made in his room. I could not help but grow a saddened smile as my suspicions were correct. After investigating the greenery room, I made my way into the library and heard the familiar humming as I peeked up and called out to the keeper of this estate again, "Simon! Simon, are you here??"
I could see the familiar man with darkened hair and slender body as he looked my way and stopped dead in his tracks when cleaning. He looked like he had seen a ghost, and he was right to appear that way as I could not help myself and ran to him, trying to hug him but not gaining any success as his voice cracked slightly with the shock and excitement he felt, "Soleil! How are you even here?! Shouldn't you be prancing around heaven or something like that, young lady!? Do you realize how much time has passed??"
I could not help but laugh when hearing the change in Simon's voice as I smiled happily at him and responded with a serene tone, "I already am Simon. Also, I do realize how much time has passed. I keep track of it since I cannot leave here. It has been 15,000 years since it all ended and began." At those words, I could see Simon's excitement and expression drop at the mentioning of how long it truly had been and thought to himself before bowing his head and nodding slowly.
"Yes... It truly has been that long, hasn't it Soleil? I want to apologize to you. For not figuring out what would happen and not trying to save you from that horrible fate. I wished with all of my might that he could have left you be or perhaps spare you long enough for me to let you join me in a different manner than as a spirit." I could tell this topic was a sore spot and I gently reached out to him. Even though he could not feel my touch, he understood the gesture and looked up to me again with an apologetic look in his eyes before I responded.
"Simon, instead of sulking here like a little bat, let's try to make the best of this and stay in each other's lives once more? We both technically have achieved immortality in a sense. Let's make the best of our time before you eventually go?" A smile slowly grew on Simon's face as he nodded his head and responded with the softest of voices,
"Yes. Let's do that this time, Soleil." | |
[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 was young when it all happened. A thief in the night had claimed my life and my blood had been spilled onto the ground. I remembered all of the steps after when my body was bitten and drained of all blood and just torn asunder like I was just some sack of meat to be had. It all happened right after I had seen Simon- the vampire I had grown to love in my town.
I got to explore so many places like he had without any needs to avoid the sun or to crave anything. I met with many figures I had studied in my schooling days and became friends with quite a few. I had seen change happen over the course of time- time I lost track of rather quickly. To me, I finally got the change of a lifetime to see the world that Simon described to me through his tales of the Earth we both shared. I finally understood why he encouraged me to explore and am thankful he did.
Time crawled onward and I could see from the sidelines how countries rose and fell. Things certainly were not going to be like 2017 anymore and it was bittersweet to see that. My family that I had eventually passed away and I could wave them goodbye as they all were able to be free from the shackles of this realm. I encouraged their leaving and also waited for my turn. In due time, I knew I would have my time to leave too.
But it never came.
In fact, 15,000 years had passed and I still remained here. I got to see the same figures I had met like Miss Anne Frank, Marie Laveau, Theodore Roosevelt, and even Edgar Allan Poe when he wanted to show up. They all wondered who could have possibly been alive to keep me here as I would sit with them and think long and hard about who could possibly have been alive to remember me to this day. I talked to each and every one of them about how I had died as they all did ask, and described the night before I had died.
Each felt warm and had softened at the tale of how Simon and I had walked around town under the full moon and danced around the clocktower that was in the middle of my town. I was clumsy and could not dance well while I was alive, but he had been patient with me and hummed soft music while leading me through a waltz under the stars. It was one of the best nights in my life despite what happened afterwards. Because I felt so loved and cared for during those last moments, and I knew Simon could relate. When escorting me home, he kept me close and safe before letting me go with a kiss on the hand and a proposition to return the next night.
I agreed and we left each other's company- a fatal mistake it would be for me.
Then it hit me like a bat to the head, perhaps unneeded to travel home for a change and investigate there. So I said goodbyes to the individuals I had grown to know during my afterlife and traveled back to my hometown that held the clocktower in the middle. To my delight, the clocktower had still been there despite the many changes in the town that I had seen. It felt so foreign to me, but I shook the memories I had off and traveled to the clocktower where Simon was hopefully living.
How I had not understood that it was most likely Simon keeping me here, I did not know. Perhaps it was because I did not gain any intelligence after the afterlife to think that a vampire still kept me in his memory? It did not matter much now as I went to the switch that was by the clocktower and turned it before entering the door into a grande estate and began calling for the vampire I remembered so well, "Simon! Simon!" I wandered the familiar halls in hopes he could hear me. Since vampires were technically not alive either, they should be able to hear me, right?
So I traveled from the guest and mater bedroom to find a portrait of me had been made in his room. I could not help but grow a saddened smile as my suspicions were correct. After investigating the greenery room, I made my way into the library and heard the familiar humming as I peeked up and called out to the keeper of this estate again, "Simon! Simon, are you here??"
I could see the familiar man with darkened hair and slender body as he looked my way and stopped dead in his tracks when cleaning. He looked like he had seen a ghost, and he was right to appear that way as I could not help myself and ran to him, trying to hug him but not gaining any success as his voice cracked slightly with the shock and excitement he felt, "Soleil! How are you even here?! Shouldn't you be prancing around heaven or something like that, young lady!? Do you realize how much time has passed??"
I could not help but laugh when hearing the change in Simon's voice as I smiled happily at him and responded with a serene tone, "I already am Simon. Also, I do realize how much time has passed. I keep track of it since I cannot leave here. It has been 15,000 years since it all ended and began." At those words, I could see Simon's excitement and expression drop at the mentioning of how long it truly had been and thought to himself before bowing his head and nodding slowly.
"Yes... It truly has been that long, hasn't it Soleil? I want to apologize to you. For not figuring out what would happen and not trying to save you from that horrible fate. I wished with all of my might that he could have left you be or perhaps spare you long enough for me to let you join me in a different manner than as a spirit." I could tell this topic was a sore spot and I gently reached out to him. Even though he could not feel my touch, he understood the gesture and looked up to me again with an apologetic look in his eyes before I responded.
"Simon, instead of sulking here like a little bat, let's try to make the best of this and stay in each other's lives once more? We both technically have achieved immortality in a sense. Let's make the best of our time before you eventually go?" A smile slowly grew on Simon's face as he nodded his head and responded with the softest of voices,
"Yes. Let's do that this time, Soleil." | |
[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 a stupid video. Something I did for fun to test out my new webcam. I wasn't looking for attention in anyway, and didn't really think much when I uploaded it to the web. In fact, at the time there wasn't much around that let you save your videos and I didn't have an external backup drive so I simply uploaded it to the internet for safe-keeping. But this was before things could go viral, or so I naively assumed.
Now I'm a 15,000 year-old ghost and still as much of an internet sensation. But the internet has greatly evolved and my little video has gained immeasurable attention. You see, around 14,000+ years ago, they started blasting essences of pop culture into outer space in hopes of reaching out to alien civilizations. In a stroke of luck, one such civilization picked up the signal (which included my silly video) and began sharing it to all other known races across the universe.
Now, I'm more famous than any Earthly historical figure. All by chance. Now I'm screwed.
All I wanted was to dance to the Numa Numa song.... | Oh, you're new here, fresh off the press. Literally, what a gruesome way to die you had. But that's all in the past now, that body is nothing but meat now so stop associating yourself with it, and listen to me, your guide to the afterlife, one who has been here longer than anyone else.
Let me explain how it works. You see, you're a ghost now, just like me. A ghost is an observer, left to watch over people who cared about them. As soon as your legacy vanishes- you disappear.
The first century is the most difficult. Humans rarely know their family tree beyond third or fourth generation, so a typical ghost exists for around 70 years, usually the longer they lived the longer they are remembered.
I met many of them in my early years, but at some point they start to get boring. Thousands of years pass, yet peasants have the same stories, the same problems, the same vendettas. I still randomly visit a couple per decade, but that usually makes for pretty dull experiences, although there was a memorable one recently.
She was a very weak ghost, an ophran girl who died at 15. Most people around her forgot her a week after her funeral, with the sole exception being a boy who had a crush on her. She clinged to him like a burdrock seed for a couple months, but one day he saw another pretty girl- and just like that, she went poof in a cloud of smoke. Her face then is impossible to forget, but unfortunately ghost memories don't count. Oh, sorry, got a bit carried away.
So, what happens past a hundred or so? No, let's rephrase it a bit. What is different about these who persist past that? The answer is, they are the ones who leave their name in history, not just in close people's minds. However minor that contribution is- down to shoemakers and tavern owners whose buisnesses stand and carry their names and heritage throught centuries, even if only a few people keep them up. These are wonky, as soon as buisness closes their days are numbered, but they still outlive your normal folk who gets born, live a quiet life and just die.
A step above that are truely historical figures, like I am. Kings, religious leaders, breakthrough scientists, famous artists, legendary warriors, these are the ghosts that simply can't disappear at this point, though that only got solidified very recently with widespread, globalised education, for which I thank your generation and a dozen before that. For thousands of years I feared that one day it'd just end.
Just five centuries ago there were Aztecs, for example, their settlements were absolutely sprawling with ghosts because of how they preserved their history- right until they got wiped out by spainards. The educated top was eradicated, and suddenly most of ghosts were gone, the rest disappeared as soon as the last of uneducated enslaved bottom died. A shame, really, lost lots of great folks there.
By the way, your prospects don't look promising, but that's not something you can change now. I'd advice you to not go to your family right now, it'll be heartbreaking, wait a couple years. Meanwhile, go meet people and visit places you couldn't even think about meeting while alive, like your grandpa who died before you were born, or the insides of pyramids. Don't even try to get to Jesus, he has a century-long line now, and frankly you'll be disappointed, same applies to most popular personalities out there. And don't try to influence anything in the world, that won't work. So, on this note, I think I shall leave, you'll get a hang of the rest yourself. Have fun! | |
[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. | When I breathed, war was Hell.
Now, Hell is history. Quotations are fetters, memorials are a crushing weight keeping me from heaven.
And "Never forget" is the curse the living lay upon the dead. Every name read, every bell tolled, the torment of the unquiet spirits. A bundle of flowers, the most beautiful nail keeping my coffin closed.
It is why necromancers so easily find ones who only want to destroy the living. We want to be forgotten, to know the sweet breeze of oblivion and release- and if you are all dead, who will there be to remember us?
I would tell you my name, but it would only prolong the suffering. | Oh, you're new here, fresh off the press. Literally, what a gruesome way to die you had. But that's all in the past now, that body is nothing but meat now so stop associating yourself with it, and listen to me, your guide to the afterlife, one who has been here longer than anyone else.
Let me explain how it works. You see, you're a ghost now, just like me. A ghost is an observer, left to watch over people who cared about them. As soon as your legacy vanishes- you disappear.
The first century is the most difficult. Humans rarely know their family tree beyond third or fourth generation, so a typical ghost exists for around 70 years, usually the longer they lived the longer they are remembered.
I met many of them in my early years, but at some point they start to get boring. Thousands of years pass, yet peasants have the same stories, the same problems, the same vendettas. I still randomly visit a couple per decade, but that usually makes for pretty dull experiences, although there was a memorable one recently.
She was a very weak ghost, an ophran girl who died at 15. Most people around her forgot her a week after her funeral, with the sole exception being a boy who had a crush on her. She clinged to him like a burdrock seed for a couple months, but one day he saw another pretty girl- and just like that, she went poof in a cloud of smoke. Her face then is impossible to forget, but unfortunately ghost memories don't count. Oh, sorry, got a bit carried away.
So, what happens past a hundred or so? No, let's rephrase it a bit. What is different about these who persist past that? The answer is, they are the ones who leave their name in history, not just in close people's minds. However minor that contribution is- down to shoemakers and tavern owners whose buisnesses stand and carry their names and heritage throught centuries, even if only a few people keep them up. These are wonky, as soon as buisness closes their days are numbered, but they still outlive your normal folk who gets born, live a quiet life and just die.
A step above that are truely historical figures, like I am. Kings, religious leaders, breakthrough scientists, famous artists, legendary warriors, these are the ghosts that simply can't disappear at this point, though that only got solidified very recently with widespread, globalised education, for which I thank your generation and a dozen before that. For thousands of years I feared that one day it'd just end.
Just five centuries ago there were Aztecs, for example, their settlements were absolutely sprawling with ghosts because of how they preserved their history- right until they got wiped out by spainards. The educated top was eradicated, and suddenly most of ghosts were gone, the rest disappeared as soon as the last of uneducated enslaved bottom died. A shame, really, lost lots of great folks there.
By the way, your prospects don't look promising, but that's not something you can change now. I'd advice you to not go to your family right now, it'll be heartbreaking, wait a couple years. Meanwhile, go meet people and visit places you couldn't even think about meeting while alive, like your grandpa who died before you were born, or the insides of pyramids. Don't even try to get to Jesus, he has a century-long line now, and frankly you'll be disappointed, same applies to most popular personalities out there. And don't try to influence anything in the world, that won't work. So, on this note, I think I shall leave, you'll get a hang of the rest yourself. Have fun! | |
[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. | Jesus huh, your name means nothing, only one name matters to me and that's my daughter, Mary. But you sullied that name, you spread her name with ill repute because she rejected you, you told everyone she was a whore...now it's your turn to suffer.
Every piece of gold I have and that is not insignificant in its measure, every treasure I possess is going into your eternal punishment.
You took peace from her in life so now I will take it from you in death.
I have enlisted scholars with knowledge over man that cannot be ignored, they are writing a book that will never be forgotten and that book will contain your name on every page.
You will never be forgotten, your spirit will wander this earth alone for all eternity and for all eternity you will suffer.
My Mary Magdalene, my beautiful world, she took her life because of your poisoned words so now it will be my words that condemn you forever.
| Oh, you're new here, fresh off the press. Literally, what a gruesome way to die you had. But that's all in the past now, that body is nothing but meat now so stop associating yourself with it, and listen to me, your guide to the afterlife, one who has been here longer than anyone else.
Let me explain how it works. You see, you're a ghost now, just like me. A ghost is an observer, left to watch over people who cared about them. As soon as your legacy vanishes- you disappear.
The first century is the most difficult. Humans rarely know their family tree beyond third or fourth generation, so a typical ghost exists for around 70 years, usually the longer they lived the longer they are remembered.
I met many of them in my early years, but at some point they start to get boring. Thousands of years pass, yet peasants have the same stories, the same problems, the same vendettas. I still randomly visit a couple per decade, but that usually makes for pretty dull experiences, although there was a memorable one recently.
She was a very weak ghost, an ophran girl who died at 15. Most people around her forgot her a week after her funeral, with the sole exception being a boy who had a crush on her. She clinged to him like a burdrock seed for a couple months, but one day he saw another pretty girl- and just like that, she went poof in a cloud of smoke. Her face then is impossible to forget, but unfortunately ghost memories don't count. Oh, sorry, got a bit carried away.
So, what happens past a hundred or so? No, let's rephrase it a bit. What is different about these who persist past that? The answer is, they are the ones who leave their name in history, not just in close people's minds. However minor that contribution is- down to shoemakers and tavern owners whose buisnesses stand and carry their names and heritage throught centuries, even if only a few people keep them up. These are wonky, as soon as buisness closes their days are numbered, but they still outlive your normal folk who gets born, live a quiet life and just die.
A step above that are truely historical figures, like I am. Kings, religious leaders, breakthrough scientists, famous artists, legendary warriors, these are the ghosts that simply can't disappear at this point, though that only got solidified very recently with widespread, globalised education, for which I thank your generation and a dozen before that. For thousands of years I feared that one day it'd just end.
Just five centuries ago there were Aztecs, for example, their settlements were absolutely sprawling with ghosts because of how they preserved their history- right until they got wiped out by spainards. The educated top was eradicated, and suddenly most of ghosts were gone, the rest disappeared as soon as the last of uneducated enslaved bottom died. A shame, really, lost lots of great folks there.
By the way, your prospects don't look promising, but that's not something you can change now. I'd advice you to not go to your family right now, it'll be heartbreaking, wait a couple years. Meanwhile, go meet people and visit places you couldn't even think about meeting while alive, like your grandpa who died before you were born, or the insides of pyramids. Don't even try to get to Jesus, he has a century-long line now, and frankly you'll be disappointed, same applies to most popular personalities out there. And don't try to influence anything in the world, that won't work. So, on this note, I think I shall leave, you'll get a hang of the rest yourself. Have fun! | |
[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 is a long time. It's certainly much longer than most of my kind are capable of thinking in. Today, most of them say that it is the year "2017 AD." I, however, can remember people who said it was "747 AVC." I could remember even farther back to a time and place when it was said to be "the 37th year of the reign of Sargon" and further beyond that to the very fist time a woman etched "Year 1" into a rock to track the history of her farming village. That barely even scratched the surface.
It had been 15,000 years since a boar's tusk had pierced my shoulder while trying to catch one for the farm on the river bank. 15,000 years since the festering infection had claimed my body and my life. 14,800 years since the absolute most generous estimates should've sent me on from this world. I was still here.
Ghosts are tethered to the living. When the last person who remembers you dies, you finally vanish. In my day this meant a particularly legendary figure might last 7 generations. An exceptionally old person might last 4-5. More recent people like Alexander the Great had lasted thousands of years thanks to the invention of written history
So far as I knew, the last person to know me alive must have died on that little farm on the banks of the Eruk, well most people called it the "Tigris" these days.
In the last 15,000 years I'd done a lot. Ghosts don't have the superpowers people imagine us with. We're basically just humans that fluctuate in and out of visibility and corporeality. So I can walk through walls, but I've gotta walk like anyone else. No flying, no apparating, no possessing the living, just walking. That's fine by me, you can sneak on to most forms of transit when you're invisible. I remember walking westward, following the sun to see where it landed after my Great-great niece died. I ended up in the luscious and green Sahara with a much better understanding of science than anyone else would develop for a few thousand years. I haven't really stopped walking since and am proud to say that I think I've covered the entire Earth, twice for most places
I hadn't been visible in about 1200 years. Too many religions started that way. I switch over to tangibility all the time though to do little guardian angel type things from fishing someone's keys out of the pool and onto their towel to pulling the firing pin out of a soldier's gun for an innocent family. Little things, sometimes big consequences. My whole afterlife chnaged while doing the latter.
I had recently made the trek home to Eruk, or Mesopotamia, or Iraq, or whatever it's called these days. It was the biggest shitshow I'd seen there since the Mongols. I pulled the firing pin out of a ISIS militant's gun while he was looking down the barrel at a Yazidi woman. The distraction was just long enough for a government soldier to take a shot at the militant. I almost didn't look, but when I did, I saw the soldier's face. He wasn't Arab, his facial features were too broad, his hair too tightly curled, and his skin too dark. He looked like me...
I quickly became visible, standing strange and anachronistic in my animal skin kilt with an apparent wound in my shoulder. My unevenly chopped hair cropped close to my skull and a short and curly beard was similar cut around my jaw. A tattoo adorned my right shoulder, a family symbol of a sort. I saw the recognition in his eyes and the fear of one who has seen a ghost. The soldier's gun fell, but he didnt seem to notice as his hand clutched his own right shoulder.
I knew at that moment, that soldier knew me. He was from Eruk. He was 15,000 years old, and for some reason he was still alive.
| Oh, you're new here, fresh off the press. Literally, what a gruesome way to die you had. But that's all in the past now, that body is nothing but meat now so stop associating yourself with it, and listen to me, your guide to the afterlife, one who has been here longer than anyone else.
Let me explain how it works. You see, you're a ghost now, just like me. A ghost is an observer, left to watch over people who cared about them. As soon as your legacy vanishes- you disappear.
The first century is the most difficult. Humans rarely know their family tree beyond third or fourth generation, so a typical ghost exists for around 70 years, usually the longer they lived the longer they are remembered.
I met many of them in my early years, but at some point they start to get boring. Thousands of years pass, yet peasants have the same stories, the same problems, the same vendettas. I still randomly visit a couple per decade, but that usually makes for pretty dull experiences, although there was a memorable one recently.
She was a very weak ghost, an ophran girl who died at 15. Most people around her forgot her a week after her funeral, with the sole exception being a boy who had a crush on her. She clinged to him like a burdrock seed for a couple months, but one day he saw another pretty girl- and just like that, she went poof in a cloud of smoke. Her face then is impossible to forget, but unfortunately ghost memories don't count. Oh, sorry, got a bit carried away.
So, what happens past a hundred or so? No, let's rephrase it a bit. What is different about these who persist past that? The answer is, they are the ones who leave their name in history, not just in close people's minds. However minor that contribution is- down to shoemakers and tavern owners whose buisnesses stand and carry their names and heritage throught centuries, even if only a few people keep them up. These are wonky, as soon as buisness closes their days are numbered, but they still outlive your normal folk who gets born, live a quiet life and just die.
A step above that are truely historical figures, like I am. Kings, religious leaders, breakthrough scientists, famous artists, legendary warriors, these are the ghosts that simply can't disappear at this point, though that only got solidified very recently with widespread, globalised education, for which I thank your generation and a dozen before that. For thousands of years I feared that one day it'd just end.
Just five centuries ago there were Aztecs, for example, their settlements were absolutely sprawling with ghosts because of how they preserved their history- right until they got wiped out by spainards. The educated top was eradicated, and suddenly most of ghosts were gone, the rest disappeared as soon as the last of uneducated enslaved bottom died. A shame, really, lost lots of great folks there.
By the way, your prospects don't look promising, but that's not something you can change now. I'd advice you to not go to your family right now, it'll be heartbreaking, wait a couple years. Meanwhile, go meet people and visit places you couldn't even think about meeting while alive, like your grandpa who died before you were born, or the insides of pyramids. Don't even try to get to Jesus, he has a century-long line now, and frankly you'll be disappointed, same applies to most popular personalities out there. And don't try to influence anything in the world, that won't work. So, on this note, I think I shall leave, you'll get a hang of the rest yourself. Have fun! | |
[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 spent my entire life believing, "Heaven was a place called Earth." I wish I would have been right.... 15,000 years and nothing has changed. Well, for me anyways. Many people have come and gone, I have learned countless stories from trillions, yet, I still remain. An ironic punishment of sorts I could say, I did so much to preserve humanity it was only fitting I would be here to help others understand their lives. There were others like me, some had been around for as long as myself, others longer, but for the majority you got 100-200 years maybe.
A light started to flash next to me as I focused back out on my surroundings. "Time to go to work," I yawned stretching my back. The faded shells of people moved all around me as I floated down from my perch. The fountains water did not touch me, just flowed through my body. Before me a man began to gain color from his faded self. Many other faded persons gathered around him attempting to help, but like the trillions I had seen before, he was beyond help.
"Stay back!" He yelled at those surrounding him, waving his arms about as he stood up. I gave a little chuckle as I flowed the rest of the way down. "They cannot hear you anymore," I spoke, placing my hand on his shoulder. Angry, he lashed back, as per usual, pulling away as if to run. As the reality of things set in, he turned back to me dumb founded. His eyes shifted past me to the faded fountain I had come to call home. "Where am I?" He whispered as I flowed my way next to him. 'Welcome to purgatory," I spoke, "Or at least that's what I like to call it, I've never really been sure." He continued to look completely lost, like so many before him. That expression never changes, even with time. "So I'm de...." "Dead," I spoke, cutting him off. "You have left the bounds of mortality indeed"
I let him sit just staring at the fountain as faded shadows pasted around us. I had all the time in the world for all I knew, and after waiting so long I was no longer impatient. I looked over the person before me as I had done many times before. A simple man in comparison to my last 'visitor'. A plain set of clothes uncommon, yet standard for the time. Comfortable clothes were always the best way to go, especially if you didn't know how long you would have to wait. Advance medical watch and ear pieces paired with what I could only imagine where bionics. He also seemed to have been lucky, he clutched a cube I knew had to be a new form of a satchel. He would have some familiar objects to toy with while he waited.
I gave a smile as I realized his watch was a version of mine from his time. I always knew it to be a good brand, too bad it held little meaning here aside as a friendly reminder to his own time. I opened my satchel, and removed my journal. I flipped open to my marked page and turned to a blank sheet. Trillions of notes taken, yet I still would find a new sheet when I would come to the end. A glorious perk of being here I suppose, yet, when I was gone who would read this. I continued to wait for what seemed like eons, until finally he turned towards me. "Yes?" I spoke knowing he was finally ready. "It's you isn't it?" He asked, turning back to the fountain once again. "Yes, I replied, it's been quite a while."
He bent down to look at the fountain's plate, faded in the twilight the numbers 1994 - 2037 could be seen. He sat back up and moved his hand across his watch. June 17, 17048 flashed in front of him before blinking back down. A confused look passed over his face once again, "How does this all work?" "Well," I spoke, "It's a bit complicated; however, as I have learned from my time here you can still use anything that was on your person when you passed over." "So," he spoke softly, "I can send a message to my family?" I laughed a little, "I'm afraid not, although that is always the first question it seems." "You can try to send one if you want, but they will only get a form of interference, in my time you could cause a phone call with no one on the other end to come through; however, I do not think your technology works that way anymore."
He began to look over me more closely now. My hiking shoes, jeans, and button down shirt was something out of a history book to him in comparison to his jumpsuit. Technology had always had a way in making things less unique in a sense. He then focused around us at the shadows we stood by. He reached out in curiosity as the shadow closed her arms feeling a chill. "Are they..." "Alive?" I spoke, "Yes, you are still on Earth, just in a different form of existence." He let out a long sigh before turning to face me once again, "So what do we do now?" "I gave a smile as I touched his shoulder, "We help those that pass understand this and wait." "Wait for what?" He said, looking once again confused as before. "Well, I don't really know, but in time you will learned." "Come," I motioned towards the road ahead of us. "Let's go and find your passed friends and family, I am sure they have missed you." He turned with me and began to walk. "If you don't mind me asking," He questioned, "Can you tell me about your life while we look." "You're the single most important person in history." I patted his back as we continued down the road, "Of course, ..." "Daniel," he said excited. "Of course Daniel," I smiled, "where would you like me to begin."
Behind us the shadows continued to walk along with the occasional few stopping to admire the fountain. Some throwing objects into the water, others bowing there heads in respect. One knelt down and cleaned off the name plate, smiling as he worked. The golden name etched forever in history. T. Ten, The Great Archivist, Savior of all Records. | Oh, you're new here, fresh off the press. Literally, what a gruesome way to die you had. But that's all in the past now, that body is nothing but meat now so stop associating yourself with it, and listen to me, your guide to the afterlife, one who has been here longer than anyone else.
Let me explain how it works. You see, you're a ghost now, just like me. A ghost is an observer, left to watch over people who cared about them. As soon as your legacy vanishes- you disappear.
The first century is the most difficult. Humans rarely know their family tree beyond third or fourth generation, so a typical ghost exists for around 70 years, usually the longer they lived the longer they are remembered.
I met many of them in my early years, but at some point they start to get boring. Thousands of years pass, yet peasants have the same stories, the same problems, the same vendettas. I still randomly visit a couple per decade, but that usually makes for pretty dull experiences, although there was a memorable one recently.
She was a very weak ghost, an ophran girl who died at 15. Most people around her forgot her a week after her funeral, with the sole exception being a boy who had a crush on her. She clinged to him like a burdrock seed for a couple months, but one day he saw another pretty girl- and just like that, she went poof in a cloud of smoke. Her face then is impossible to forget, but unfortunately ghost memories don't count. Oh, sorry, got a bit carried away.
So, what happens past a hundred or so? No, let's rephrase it a bit. What is different about these who persist past that? The answer is, they are the ones who leave their name in history, not just in close people's minds. However minor that contribution is- down to shoemakers and tavern owners whose buisnesses stand and carry their names and heritage throught centuries, even if only a few people keep them up. These are wonky, as soon as buisness closes their days are numbered, but they still outlive your normal folk who gets born, live a quiet life and just die.
A step above that are truely historical figures, like I am. Kings, religious leaders, breakthrough scientists, famous artists, legendary warriors, these are the ghosts that simply can't disappear at this point, though that only got solidified very recently with widespread, globalised education, for which I thank your generation and a dozen before that. For thousands of years I feared that one day it'd just end.
Just five centuries ago there were Aztecs, for example, their settlements were absolutely sprawling with ghosts because of how they preserved their history- right until they got wiped out by spainards. The educated top was eradicated, and suddenly most of ghosts were gone, the rest disappeared as soon as the last of uneducated enslaved bottom died. A shame, really, lost lots of great folks there.
By the way, your prospects don't look promising, but that's not something you can change now. I'd advice you to not go to your family right now, it'll be heartbreaking, wait a couple years. Meanwhile, go meet people and visit places you couldn't even think about meeting while alive, like your grandpa who died before you were born, or the insides of pyramids. Don't even try to get to Jesus, he has a century-long line now, and frankly you'll be disappointed, same applies to most popular personalities out there. And don't try to influence anything in the world, that won't work. So, on this note, I think I shall leave, you'll get a hang of the rest yourself. Have fun! | |
[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 think it's been 15,000 years. Or at least, somewhere around that. I'm not really sure. I haven't left the house in a few millennia at least. There's no point. All I end up doing is scaring a few people, and death goes on. Besides, no matter where I go, it's crowded.
The space issue gets worse in the big cities, and don't even get me started on India and most of Asia. It isn't as bad in the remote regions of the world; Antarctica was only recently populated. I'd say 4000 years ago, give or take a few decades.
15,000 years ago, I was caught in an apartment fire. I woke up and passed out within a minute or two. It actually wasn't that bad. Just a sore throat for a bit. The living don't know it, but there is an after life. To reach it, all you have to do is pass out of memory.
For the big guys like the pharoahs and kings, the great philosophers and warlords, it's been even longer. The trappings of history have bound them forever. As long as there stands a museum dedicated to them, they remain. They make for ok company.
I was just a normal guy from a place that used to be called Virginia. I should have been on my way a few decades after I died. It took me a long time to figure it out, but eventually it dawned on me and all of the other millions of lost souls.
Being able to connect with everyone around the world instantaneously is awesome when you're alive. If you're dead, a digital you is floating around out there, remembered eternally on the almighty internet.
Most of us have accepted it, so we patiently wait for an apocalypse. We pray for the end of all things, and curse Mark Zuckerberg. | Oh, you're new here, fresh off the press. Literally, what a gruesome way to die you had. But that's all in the past now, that body is nothing but meat now so stop associating yourself with it, and listen to me, your guide to the afterlife, one who has been here longer than anyone else.
Let me explain how it works. You see, you're a ghost now, just like me. A ghost is an observer, left to watch over people who cared about them. As soon as your legacy vanishes- you disappear.
The first century is the most difficult. Humans rarely know their family tree beyond third or fourth generation, so a typical ghost exists for around 70 years, usually the longer they lived the longer they are remembered.
I met many of them in my early years, but at some point they start to get boring. Thousands of years pass, yet peasants have the same stories, the same problems, the same vendettas. I still randomly visit a couple per decade, but that usually makes for pretty dull experiences, although there was a memorable one recently.
She was a very weak ghost, an ophran girl who died at 15. Most people around her forgot her a week after her funeral, with the sole exception being a boy who had a crush on her. She clinged to him like a burdrock seed for a couple months, but one day he saw another pretty girl- and just like that, she went poof in a cloud of smoke. Her face then is impossible to forget, but unfortunately ghost memories don't count. Oh, sorry, got a bit carried away.
So, what happens past a hundred or so? No, let's rephrase it a bit. What is different about these who persist past that? The answer is, they are the ones who leave their name in history, not just in close people's minds. However minor that contribution is- down to shoemakers and tavern owners whose buisnesses stand and carry their names and heritage throught centuries, even if only a few people keep them up. These are wonky, as soon as buisness closes their days are numbered, but they still outlive your normal folk who gets born, live a quiet life and just die.
A step above that are truely historical figures, like I am. Kings, religious leaders, breakthrough scientists, famous artists, legendary warriors, these are the ghosts that simply can't disappear at this point, though that only got solidified very recently with widespread, globalised education, for which I thank your generation and a dozen before that. For thousands of years I feared that one day it'd just end.
Just five centuries ago there were Aztecs, for example, their settlements were absolutely sprawling with ghosts because of how they preserved their history- right until they got wiped out by spainards. The educated top was eradicated, and suddenly most of ghosts were gone, the rest disappeared as soon as the last of uneducated enslaved bottom died. A shame, really, lost lots of great folks there.
By the way, your prospects don't look promising, but that's not something you can change now. I'd advice you to not go to your family right now, it'll be heartbreaking, wait a couple years. Meanwhile, go meet people and visit places you couldn't even think about meeting while alive, like your grandpa who died before you were born, or the insides of pyramids. Don't even try to get to Jesus, he has a century-long line now, and frankly you'll be disappointed, same applies to most popular personalities out there. And don't try to influence anything in the world, that won't work. So, on this note, I think I shall leave, you'll get a hang of the rest yourself. Have fun! | |
[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. | Oh, you're new here, fresh off the press. Literally, what a gruesome way to die you had. But that's all in the past now, that body is nothing but meat now so stop associating yourself with it, and listen to me, your guide to the afterlife, one who has been here longer than anyone else.
Let me explain how it works. You see, you're a ghost now, just like me. A ghost is an observer, left to watch over people who cared about them. As soon as your legacy vanishes- you disappear.
The first century is the most difficult. Humans rarely know their family tree beyond third or fourth generation, so a typical ghost exists for around 70 years, usually the longer they lived the longer they are remembered.
I met many of them in my early years, but at some point they start to get boring. Thousands of years pass, yet peasants have the same stories, the same problems, the same vendettas. I still randomly visit a couple per decade, but that usually makes for pretty dull experiences, although there was a memorable one recently.
She was a very weak ghost, an ophran girl who died at 15. Most people around her forgot her a week after her funeral, with the sole exception being a boy who had a crush on her. She clinged to him like a burdrock seed for a couple months, but one day he saw another pretty girl- and just like that, she went poof in a cloud of smoke. Her face then is impossible to forget, but unfortunately ghost memories don't count. Oh, sorry, got a bit carried away.
So, what happens past a hundred or so? No, let's rephrase it a bit. What is different about these who persist past that? The answer is, they are the ones who leave their name in history, not just in close people's minds. However minor that contribution is- down to shoemakers and tavern owners whose buisnesses stand and carry their names and heritage throught centuries, even if only a few people keep them up. These are wonky, as soon as buisness closes their days are numbered, but they still outlive your normal folk who gets born, live a quiet life and just die.
A step above that are truely historical figures, like I am. Kings, religious leaders, breakthrough scientists, famous artists, legendary warriors, these are the ghosts that simply can't disappear at this point, though that only got solidified very recently with widespread, globalised education, for which I thank your generation and a dozen before that. For thousands of years I feared that one day it'd just end.
Just five centuries ago there were Aztecs, for example, their settlements were absolutely sprawling with ghosts because of how they preserved their history- right until they got wiped out by spainards. The educated top was eradicated, and suddenly most of ghosts were gone, the rest disappeared as soon as the last of uneducated enslaved bottom died. A shame, really, lost lots of great folks there.
By the way, your prospects don't look promising, but that's not something you can change now. I'd advice you to not go to your family right now, it'll be heartbreaking, wait a couple years. Meanwhile, go meet people and visit places you couldn't even think about meeting while alive, like your grandpa who died before you were born, or the insides of pyramids. Don't even try to get to Jesus, he has a century-long line now, and frankly you'll be disappointed, same applies to most popular personalities out there. And don't try to influence anything in the world, that won't work. So, on this note, I think I shall leave, you'll get a hang of the rest yourself. Have fun! | |
[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. | When I breathed, war was Hell.
Now, Hell is history. Quotations are fetters, memorials are a crushing weight keeping me from heaven.
And "Never forget" is the curse the living lay upon the dead. Every name read, every bell tolled, the torment of the unquiet spirits. A bundle of flowers, the most beautiful nail keeping my coffin closed.
It is why necromancers so easily find ones who only want to destroy the living. We want to be forgotten, to know the sweet breeze of oblivion and release- and if you are all dead, who will there be to remember us?
I would tell you my name, but it would only prolong the suffering. | It was just a stupid video. Something I did for fun to test out my new webcam. I wasn't looking for attention in anyway, and didn't really think much when I uploaded it to the web. In fact, at the time there wasn't much around that let you save your videos and I didn't have an external backup drive so I simply uploaded it to the internet for safe-keeping. But this was before things could go viral, or so I naively assumed.
Now I'm a 15,000 year-old ghost and still as much of an internet sensation. But the internet has greatly evolved and my little video has gained immeasurable attention. You see, around 14,000+ years ago, they started blasting essences of pop culture into outer space in hopes of reaching out to alien civilizations. In a stroke of luck, one such civilization picked up the signal (which included my silly video) and began sharing it to all other known races across the universe.
Now, I'm more famous than any Earthly historical figure. All by chance. Now I'm screwed.
All I wanted was to dance to the Numa Numa song.... | |
[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 think it's been 15,000 years. Or at least, somewhere around that. I'm not really sure. I haven't left the house in a few millennia at least. There's no point. All I end up doing is scaring a few people, and death goes on. Besides, no matter where I go, it's crowded.
The space issue gets worse in the big cities, and don't even get me started on India and most of Asia. It isn't as bad in the remote regions of the world; Antarctica was only recently populated. I'd say 4000 years ago, give or take a few decades.
15,000 years ago, I was caught in an apartment fire. I woke up and passed out within a minute or two. It actually wasn't that bad. Just a sore throat for a bit. The living don't know it, but there is an after life. To reach it, all you have to do is pass out of memory.
For the big guys like the pharoahs and kings, the great philosophers and warlords, it's been even longer. The trappings of history have bound them forever. As long as there stands a museum dedicated to them, they remain. They make for ok company.
I was just a normal guy from a place that used to be called Virginia. I should have been on my way a few decades after I died. It took me a long time to figure it out, but eventually it dawned on me and all of the other millions of lost souls.
Being able to connect with everyone around the world instantaneously is awesome when you're alive. If you're dead, a digital you is floating around out there, remembered eternally on the almighty internet.
Most of us have accepted it, so we patiently wait for an apocalypse. We pray for the end of all things, and curse Mark Zuckerberg. | It was just a stupid video. Something I did for fun to test out my new webcam. I wasn't looking for attention in anyway, and didn't really think much when I uploaded it to the web. In fact, at the time there wasn't much around that let you save your videos and I didn't have an external backup drive so I simply uploaded it to the internet for safe-keeping. But this was before things could go viral, or so I naively assumed.
Now I'm a 15,000 year-old ghost and still as much of an internet sensation. But the internet has greatly evolved and my little video has gained immeasurable attention. You see, around 14,000+ years ago, they started blasting essences of pop culture into outer space in hopes of reaching out to alien civilizations. In a stroke of luck, one such civilization picked up the signal (which included my silly video) and began sharing it to all other known races across the universe.
Now, I'm more famous than any Earthly historical figure. All by chance. Now I'm screwed.
All I wanted was to dance to the Numa Numa song.... | |
[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 was just a stupid video. Something I did for fun to test out my new webcam. I wasn't looking for attention in anyway, and didn't really think much when I uploaded it to the web. In fact, at the time there wasn't much around that let you save your videos and I didn't have an external backup drive so I simply uploaded it to the internet for safe-keeping. But this was before things could go viral, or so I naively assumed.
Now I'm a 15,000 year-old ghost and still as much of an internet sensation. But the internet has greatly evolved and my little video has gained immeasurable attention. You see, around 14,000+ years ago, they started blasting essences of pop culture into outer space in hopes of reaching out to alien civilizations. In a stroke of luck, one such civilization picked up the signal (which included my silly video) and began sharing it to all other known races across the universe.
Now, I'm more famous than any Earthly historical figure. All by chance. Now I'm screwed.
All I wanted was to dance to the Numa Numa song.... | |
[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 think it's been 15,000 years. Or at least, somewhere around that. I'm not really sure. I haven't left the house in a few millennia at least. There's no point. All I end up doing is scaring a few people, and death goes on. Besides, no matter where I go, it's crowded.
The space issue gets worse in the big cities, and don't even get me started on India and most of Asia. It isn't as bad in the remote regions of the world; Antarctica was only recently populated. I'd say 4000 years ago, give or take a few decades.
15,000 years ago, I was caught in an apartment fire. I woke up and passed out within a minute or two. It actually wasn't that bad. Just a sore throat for a bit. The living don't know it, but there is an after life. To reach it, all you have to do is pass out of memory.
For the big guys like the pharoahs and kings, the great philosophers and warlords, it's been even longer. The trappings of history have bound them forever. As long as there stands a museum dedicated to them, they remain. They make for ok company.
I was just a normal guy from a place that used to be called Virginia. I should have been on my way a few decades after I died. It took me a long time to figure it out, but eventually it dawned on me and all of the other millions of lost souls.
Being able to connect with everyone around the world instantaneously is awesome when you're alive. If you're dead, a digital you is floating around out there, remembered eternally on the almighty internet.
Most of us have accepted it, so we patiently wait for an apocalypse. We pray for the end of all things, and curse Mark Zuckerberg. | When I breathed, war was Hell.
Now, Hell is history. Quotations are fetters, memorials are a crushing weight keeping me from heaven.
And "Never forget" is the curse the living lay upon the dead. Every name read, every bell tolled, the torment of the unquiet spirits. A bundle of flowers, the most beautiful nail keeping my coffin closed.
It is why necromancers so easily find ones who only want to destroy the living. We want to be forgotten, to know the sweet breeze of oblivion and release- and if you are all dead, who will there be to remember us?
I would tell you my name, but it would only prolong the suffering. | |
[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. | When I breathed, war was Hell.
Now, Hell is history. Quotations are fetters, memorials are a crushing weight keeping me from heaven.
And "Never forget" is the curse the living lay upon the dead. Every name read, every bell tolled, the torment of the unquiet spirits. A bundle of flowers, the most beautiful nail keeping my coffin closed.
It is why necromancers so easily find ones who only want to destroy the living. We want to be forgotten, to know the sweet breeze of oblivion and release- and if you are all dead, who will there be to remember us?
I would tell you my name, but it would only prolong the suffering. | |
[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 is a long time. It's certainly much longer than most of my kind are capable of thinking in. Today, most of them say that it is the year "2017 AD." I, however, can remember people who said it was "747 AVC." I could remember even farther back to a time and place when it was said to be "the 37th year of the reign of Sargon" and further beyond that to the very fist time a woman etched "Year 1" into a rock to track the history of her farming village. That barely even scratched the surface.
It had been 15,000 years since a boar's tusk had pierced my shoulder while trying to catch one for the farm on the river bank. 15,000 years since the festering infection had claimed my body and my life. 14,800 years since the absolute most generous estimates should've sent me on from this world. I was still here.
Ghosts are tethered to the living. When the last person who remembers you dies, you finally vanish. In my day this meant a particularly legendary figure might last 7 generations. An exceptionally old person might last 4-5. More recent people like Alexander the Great had lasted thousands of years thanks to the invention of written history
So far as I knew, the last person to know me alive must have died on that little farm on the banks of the Eruk, well most people called it the "Tigris" these days.
In the last 15,000 years I'd done a lot. Ghosts don't have the superpowers people imagine us with. We're basically just humans that fluctuate in and out of visibility and corporeality. So I can walk through walls, but I've gotta walk like anyone else. No flying, no apparating, no possessing the living, just walking. That's fine by me, you can sneak on to most forms of transit when you're invisible. I remember walking westward, following the sun to see where it landed after my Great-great niece died. I ended up in the luscious and green Sahara with a much better understanding of science than anyone else would develop for a few thousand years. I haven't really stopped walking since and am proud to say that I think I've covered the entire Earth, twice for most places
I hadn't been visible in about 1200 years. Too many religions started that way. I switch over to tangibility all the time though to do little guardian angel type things from fishing someone's keys out of the pool and onto their towel to pulling the firing pin out of a soldier's gun for an innocent family. Little things, sometimes big consequences. My whole afterlife chnaged while doing the latter.
I had recently made the trek home to Eruk, or Mesopotamia, or Iraq, or whatever it's called these days. It was the biggest shitshow I'd seen there since the Mongols. I pulled the firing pin out of a ISIS militant's gun while he was looking down the barrel at a Yazidi woman. The distraction was just long enough for a government soldier to take a shot at the militant. I almost didn't look, but when I did, I saw the soldier's face. He wasn't Arab, his facial features were too broad, his hair too tightly curled, and his skin too dark. He looked like me...
I quickly became visible, standing strange and anachronistic in my animal skin kilt with an apparent wound in my shoulder. My unevenly chopped hair cropped close to my skull and a short and curly beard was similar cut around my jaw. A tattoo adorned my right shoulder, a family symbol of a sort. I saw the recognition in his eyes and the fear of one who has seen a ghost. The soldier's gun fell, but he didnt seem to notice as his hand clutched his own right shoulder.
I knew at that moment, that soldier knew me. He was from Eruk. He was 15,000 years old, and for some reason he was still alive.
| Jesus huh, your name means nothing, only one name matters to me and that's my daughter, Mary. But you sullied that name, you spread her name with ill repute because she rejected you, you told everyone she was a whore...now it's your turn to suffer.
Every piece of gold I have and that is not insignificant in its measure, every treasure I possess is going into your eternal punishment.
You took peace from her in life so now I will take it from you in death.
I have enlisted scholars with knowledge over man that cannot be ignored, they are writing a book that will never be forgotten and that book will contain your name on every page.
You will never be forgotten, your spirit will wander this earth alone for all eternity and for all eternity you will suffer.
My Mary Magdalene, my beautiful world, she took her life because of your poisoned words so now it will be my words that condemn you forever.
| |
[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 think it's been 15,000 years. Or at least, somewhere around that. I'm not really sure. I haven't left the house in a few millennia at least. There's no point. All I end up doing is scaring a few people, and death goes on. Besides, no matter where I go, it's crowded.
The space issue gets worse in the big cities, and don't even get me started on India and most of Asia. It isn't as bad in the remote regions of the world; Antarctica was only recently populated. I'd say 4000 years ago, give or take a few decades.
15,000 years ago, I was caught in an apartment fire. I woke up and passed out within a minute or two. It actually wasn't that bad. Just a sore throat for a bit. The living don't know it, but there is an after life. To reach it, all you have to do is pass out of memory.
For the big guys like the pharoahs and kings, the great philosophers and warlords, it's been even longer. The trappings of history have bound them forever. As long as there stands a museum dedicated to them, they remain. They make for ok company.
I was just a normal guy from a place that used to be called Virginia. I should have been on my way a few decades after I died. It took me a long time to figure it out, but eventually it dawned on me and all of the other millions of lost souls.
Being able to connect with everyone around the world instantaneously is awesome when you're alive. If you're dead, a digital you is floating around out there, remembered eternally on the almighty internet.
Most of us have accepted it, so we patiently wait for an apocalypse. We pray for the end of all things, and curse Mark Zuckerberg. | Jesus huh, your name means nothing, only one name matters to me and that's my daughter, Mary. But you sullied that name, you spread her name with ill repute because she rejected you, you told everyone she was a whore...now it's your turn to suffer.
Every piece of gold I have and that is not insignificant in its measure, every treasure I possess is going into your eternal punishment.
You took peace from her in life so now I will take it from you in death.
I have enlisted scholars with knowledge over man that cannot be ignored, they are writing a book that will never be forgotten and that book will contain your name on every page.
You will never be forgotten, your spirit will wander this earth alone for all eternity and for all eternity you will suffer.
My Mary Magdalene, my beautiful world, she took her life because of your poisoned words so now it will be my words that condemn you forever.
| |
[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. | Jesus huh, your name means nothing, only one name matters to me and that's my daughter, Mary. But you sullied that name, you spread her name with ill repute because she rejected you, you told everyone she was a whore...now it's your turn to suffer.
Every piece of gold I have and that is not insignificant in its measure, every treasure I possess is going into your eternal punishment.
You took peace from her in life so now I will take it from you in death.
I have enlisted scholars with knowledge over man that cannot be ignored, they are writing a book that will never be forgotten and that book will contain your name on every page.
You will never be forgotten, your spirit will wander this earth alone for all eternity and for all eternity you will suffer.
My Mary Magdalene, my beautiful world, she took her life because of your poisoned words so now it will be my words that condemn you forever.
| |
[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 is a long time. It's certainly much longer than most of my kind are capable of thinking in. Today, most of them say that it is the year "2017 AD." I, however, can remember people who said it was "747 AVC." I could remember even farther back to a time and place when it was said to be "the 37th year of the reign of Sargon" and further beyond that to the very fist time a woman etched "Year 1" into a rock to track the history of her farming village. That barely even scratched the surface.
It had been 15,000 years since a boar's tusk had pierced my shoulder while trying to catch one for the farm on the river bank. 15,000 years since the festering infection had claimed my body and my life. 14,800 years since the absolute most generous estimates should've sent me on from this world. I was still here.
Ghosts are tethered to the living. When the last person who remembers you dies, you finally vanish. In my day this meant a particularly legendary figure might last 7 generations. An exceptionally old person might last 4-5. More recent people like Alexander the Great had lasted thousands of years thanks to the invention of written history
So far as I knew, the last person to know me alive must have died on that little farm on the banks of the Eruk, well most people called it the "Tigris" these days.
In the last 15,000 years I'd done a lot. Ghosts don't have the superpowers people imagine us with. We're basically just humans that fluctuate in and out of visibility and corporeality. So I can walk through walls, but I've gotta walk like anyone else. No flying, no apparating, no possessing the living, just walking. That's fine by me, you can sneak on to most forms of transit when you're invisible. I remember walking westward, following the sun to see where it landed after my Great-great niece died. I ended up in the luscious and green Sahara with a much better understanding of science than anyone else would develop for a few thousand years. I haven't really stopped walking since and am proud to say that I think I've covered the entire Earth, twice for most places
I hadn't been visible in about 1200 years. Too many religions started that way. I switch over to tangibility all the time though to do little guardian angel type things from fishing someone's keys out of the pool and onto their towel to pulling the firing pin out of a soldier's gun for an innocent family. Little things, sometimes big consequences. My whole afterlife chnaged while doing the latter.
I had recently made the trek home to Eruk, or Mesopotamia, or Iraq, or whatever it's called these days. It was the biggest shitshow I'd seen there since the Mongols. I pulled the firing pin out of a ISIS militant's gun while he was looking down the barrel at a Yazidi woman. The distraction was just long enough for a government soldier to take a shot at the militant. I almost didn't look, but when I did, I saw the soldier's face. He wasn't Arab, his facial features were too broad, his hair too tightly curled, and his skin too dark. He looked like me...
I quickly became visible, standing strange and anachronistic in my animal skin kilt with an apparent wound in my shoulder. My unevenly chopped hair cropped close to my skull and a short and curly beard was similar cut around my jaw. A tattoo adorned my right shoulder, a family symbol of a sort. I saw the recognition in his eyes and the fear of one who has seen a ghost. The soldier's gun fell, but he didnt seem to notice as his hand clutched his own right shoulder.
I knew at that moment, that soldier knew me. He was from Eruk. He was 15,000 years old, and for some reason he was still alive.
| I'd always feared death. The idea that, one day, life would just- just end? Terrifying in a way I still can't comprehend. It had always been a hidden fear, one that stuck only in the back of my mind, drowned in the happiness of childhood. Until, at age 9, when I watched my Dad fade away in his hospital bed. I watched the light drain from his eyes, and suddenly that hidden fear had no felt so real.
By the time I reached secondary school, I was pouring myself into studying aging, death, any avenue that might alleviate my long time fear. I was scrawny, pale and antisocial, but that was how much this fear drove me, this burning desire to be more, to last longer, to truly matter in the scale of the universe.
No one understood. Not the counsellor, not the teachers and not my mother. At first, my fear burnt away the loneliness, but it slowly built itself back up, another anxiety weighing on my soul.
Then I met her. Karen. The love of my life, the only one who shared my fear. I'd seen her at a lecture I was attending, and it was like seeing myself in another life. The look in her eyes, the desperate fear that came from deep within. The same look that stared at me from every mirror.
We were happy together. We spent countless weeks seeking immortality in the field of science. By the time we were old, we were losing hope that the world would yield the secret we both longed for. Karen decided to stay the course, adamant that science held the answer. Meanwhile, I turned to the arcane.
At first the search seemed futile, with every hack promising the power I sought, but soon enough my diligence caught the attention of the right people. A cult, who possessed the knowledge, but not the means. The Necronomicon, the tome of maddness that no mortal could read. The cultists claimed that one who had enough willpower could navigate the book through sheer determination.
My fear allowed me to browse the book at my leisure. I quickly found what I wanted, the ritual that would grant immortality. Yet, as I read the infernal words, my heart sank. The ritual required a sacrifice, it had to consume that which you loved most.
I showed the book to my wife, fearing what she might ask of me. Yet she took my hands, tears in her eyes, and told me that eternal life was not worth my life. We cried together, accepting that we had failed in our quest. Life would take us both. And, for once in my life, that didn't so bad.
Yet I awoke next morning to an empty bed. Karen was nowhere to be found. I searched the house, the lab, anywhere she might have gone. Finally, I heard her crying from the basement. I rushed down the stairs, only to find her crumpled and crying on the floor, clutching my dead body, my cold hands still clutching the dagger that pierced my heart.
----------------------------
So, ummm I actually couldn't think of a good way to finish this. I mean the current 'ending' is alright but it's only loosely connected to the actual prompt as it is. I felt that I needed to write this afterword to aknowledge that. Wrote this on mobile btw so there are probs typos.
| |
[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 spent my entire life believing, "Heaven was a place called Earth." I wish I would have been right.... 15,000 years and nothing has changed. Well, for me anyways. Many people have come and gone, I have learned countless stories from trillions, yet, I still remain. An ironic punishment of sorts I could say, I did so much to preserve humanity it was only fitting I would be here to help others understand their lives. There were others like me, some had been around for as long as myself, others longer, but for the majority you got 100-200 years maybe.
A light started to flash next to me as I focused back out on my surroundings. "Time to go to work," I yawned stretching my back. The faded shells of people moved all around me as I floated down from my perch. The fountains water did not touch me, just flowed through my body. Before me a man began to gain color from his faded self. Many other faded persons gathered around him attempting to help, but like the trillions I had seen before, he was beyond help.
"Stay back!" He yelled at those surrounding him, waving his arms about as he stood up. I gave a little chuckle as I flowed the rest of the way down. "They cannot hear you anymore," I spoke, placing my hand on his shoulder. Angry, he lashed back, as per usual, pulling away as if to run. As the reality of things set in, he turned back to me dumb founded. His eyes shifted past me to the faded fountain I had come to call home. "Where am I?" He whispered as I flowed my way next to him. 'Welcome to purgatory," I spoke, "Or at least that's what I like to call it, I've never really been sure." He continued to look completely lost, like so many before him. That expression never changes, even with time. "So I'm de...." "Dead," I spoke, cutting him off. "You have left the bounds of mortality indeed"
I let him sit just staring at the fountain as faded shadows pasted around us. I had all the time in the world for all I knew, and after waiting so long I was no longer impatient. I looked over the person before me as I had done many times before. A simple man in comparison to my last 'visitor'. A plain set of clothes uncommon, yet standard for the time. Comfortable clothes were always the best way to go, especially if you didn't know how long you would have to wait. Advance medical watch and ear pieces paired with what I could only imagine where bionics. He also seemed to have been lucky, he clutched a cube I knew had to be a new form of a satchel. He would have some familiar objects to toy with while he waited.
I gave a smile as I realized his watch was a version of mine from his time. I always knew it to be a good brand, too bad it held little meaning here aside as a friendly reminder to his own time. I opened my satchel, and removed my journal. I flipped open to my marked page and turned to a blank sheet. Trillions of notes taken, yet I still would find a new sheet when I would come to the end. A glorious perk of being here I suppose, yet, when I was gone who would read this. I continued to wait for what seemed like eons, until finally he turned towards me. "Yes?" I spoke knowing he was finally ready. "It's you isn't it?" He asked, turning back to the fountain once again. "Yes, I replied, it's been quite a while."
He bent down to look at the fountain's plate, faded in the twilight the numbers 1994 - 2037 could be seen. He sat back up and moved his hand across his watch. June 17, 17048 flashed in front of him before blinking back down. A confused look passed over his face once again, "How does this all work?" "Well," I spoke, "It's a bit complicated; however, as I have learned from my time here you can still use anything that was on your person when you passed over." "So," he spoke softly, "I can send a message to my family?" I laughed a little, "I'm afraid not, although that is always the first question it seems." "You can try to send one if you want, but they will only get a form of interference, in my time you could cause a phone call with no one on the other end to come through; however, I do not think your technology works that way anymore."
He began to look over me more closely now. My hiking shoes, jeans, and button down shirt was something out of a history book to him in comparison to his jumpsuit. Technology had always had a way in making things less unique in a sense. He then focused around us at the shadows we stood by. He reached out in curiosity as the shadow closed her arms feeling a chill. "Are they..." "Alive?" I spoke, "Yes, you are still on Earth, just in a different form of existence." He let out a long sigh before turning to face me once again, "So what do we do now?" "I gave a smile as I touched his shoulder, "We help those that pass understand this and wait." "Wait for what?" He said, looking once again confused as before. "Well, I don't really know, but in time you will learned." "Come," I motioned towards the road ahead of us. "Let's go and find your passed friends and family, I am sure they have missed you." He turned with me and began to walk. "If you don't mind me asking," He questioned, "Can you tell me about your life while we look." "You're the single most important person in history." I patted his back as we continued down the road, "Of course, ..." "Daniel," he said excited. "Of course Daniel," I smiled, "where would you like me to begin."
Behind us the shadows continued to walk along with the occasional few stopping to admire the fountain. Some throwing objects into the water, others bowing there heads in respect. One knelt down and cleaned off the name plate, smiling as he worked. The golden name etched forever in history. T. Ten, The Great Archivist, Savior of all Records. | I'd always feared death. The idea that, one day, life would just- just end? Terrifying in a way I still can't comprehend. It had always been a hidden fear, one that stuck only in the back of my mind, drowned in the happiness of childhood. Until, at age 9, when I watched my Dad fade away in his hospital bed. I watched the light drain from his eyes, and suddenly that hidden fear had no felt so real.
By the time I reached secondary school, I was pouring myself into studying aging, death, any avenue that might alleviate my long time fear. I was scrawny, pale and antisocial, but that was how much this fear drove me, this burning desire to be more, to last longer, to truly matter in the scale of the universe.
No one understood. Not the counsellor, not the teachers and not my mother. At first, my fear burnt away the loneliness, but it slowly built itself back up, another anxiety weighing on my soul.
Then I met her. Karen. The love of my life, the only one who shared my fear. I'd seen her at a lecture I was attending, and it was like seeing myself in another life. The look in her eyes, the desperate fear that came from deep within. The same look that stared at me from every mirror.
We were happy together. We spent countless weeks seeking immortality in the field of science. By the time we were old, we were losing hope that the world would yield the secret we both longed for. Karen decided to stay the course, adamant that science held the answer. Meanwhile, I turned to the arcane.
At first the search seemed futile, with every hack promising the power I sought, but soon enough my diligence caught the attention of the right people. A cult, who possessed the knowledge, but not the means. The Necronomicon, the tome of maddness that no mortal could read. The cultists claimed that one who had enough willpower could navigate the book through sheer determination.
My fear allowed me to browse the book at my leisure. I quickly found what I wanted, the ritual that would grant immortality. Yet, as I read the infernal words, my heart sank. The ritual required a sacrifice, it had to consume that which you loved most.
I showed the book to my wife, fearing what she might ask of me. Yet she took my hands, tears in her eyes, and told me that eternal life was not worth my life. We cried together, accepting that we had failed in our quest. Life would take us both. And, for once in my life, that didn't so bad.
Yet I awoke next morning to an empty bed. Karen was nowhere to be found. I searched the house, the lab, anywhere she might have gone. Finally, I heard her crying from the basement. I rushed down the stairs, only to find her crumpled and crying on the floor, clutching my dead body, my cold hands still clutching the dagger that pierced my heart.
----------------------------
So, ummm I actually couldn't think of a good way to finish this. I mean the current 'ending' is alright but it's only loosely connected to the actual prompt as it is. I felt that I needed to write this afterword to aknowledge that. Wrote this on mobile btw so there are probs typos.
| |
[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 think it's been 15,000 years. Or at least, somewhere around that. I'm not really sure. I haven't left the house in a few millennia at least. There's no point. All I end up doing is scaring a few people, and death goes on. Besides, no matter where I go, it's crowded.
The space issue gets worse in the big cities, and don't even get me started on India and most of Asia. It isn't as bad in the remote regions of the world; Antarctica was only recently populated. I'd say 4000 years ago, give or take a few decades.
15,000 years ago, I was caught in an apartment fire. I woke up and passed out within a minute or two. It actually wasn't that bad. Just a sore throat for a bit. The living don't know it, but there is an after life. To reach it, all you have to do is pass out of memory.
For the big guys like the pharoahs and kings, the great philosophers and warlords, it's been even longer. The trappings of history have bound them forever. As long as there stands a museum dedicated to them, they remain. They make for ok company.
I was just a normal guy from a place that used to be called Virginia. I should have been on my way a few decades after I died. It took me a long time to figure it out, but eventually it dawned on me and all of the other millions of lost souls.
Being able to connect with everyone around the world instantaneously is awesome when you're alive. If you're dead, a digital you is floating around out there, remembered eternally on the almighty internet.
Most of us have accepted it, so we patiently wait for an apocalypse. We pray for the end of all things, and curse Mark Zuckerberg. | I'd always feared death. The idea that, one day, life would just- just end? Terrifying in a way I still can't comprehend. It had always been a hidden fear, one that stuck only in the back of my mind, drowned in the happiness of childhood. Until, at age 9, when I watched my Dad fade away in his hospital bed. I watched the light drain from his eyes, and suddenly that hidden fear had no felt so real.
By the time I reached secondary school, I was pouring myself into studying aging, death, any avenue that might alleviate my long time fear. I was scrawny, pale and antisocial, but that was how much this fear drove me, this burning desire to be more, to last longer, to truly matter in the scale of the universe.
No one understood. Not the counsellor, not the teachers and not my mother. At first, my fear burnt away the loneliness, but it slowly built itself back up, another anxiety weighing on my soul.
Then I met her. Karen. The love of my life, the only one who shared my fear. I'd seen her at a lecture I was attending, and it was like seeing myself in another life. The look in her eyes, the desperate fear that came from deep within. The same look that stared at me from every mirror.
We were happy together. We spent countless weeks seeking immortality in the field of science. By the time we were old, we were losing hope that the world would yield the secret we both longed for. Karen decided to stay the course, adamant that science held the answer. Meanwhile, I turned to the arcane.
At first the search seemed futile, with every hack promising the power I sought, but soon enough my diligence caught the attention of the right people. A cult, who possessed the knowledge, but not the means. The Necronomicon, the tome of maddness that no mortal could read. The cultists claimed that one who had enough willpower could navigate the book through sheer determination.
My fear allowed me to browse the book at my leisure. I quickly found what I wanted, the ritual that would grant immortality. Yet, as I read the infernal words, my heart sank. The ritual required a sacrifice, it had to consume that which you loved most.
I showed the book to my wife, fearing what she might ask of me. Yet she took my hands, tears in her eyes, and told me that eternal life was not worth my life. We cried together, accepting that we had failed in our quest. Life would take us both. And, for once in my life, that didn't so bad.
Yet I awoke next morning to an empty bed. Karen was nowhere to be found. I searched the house, the lab, anywhere she might have gone. Finally, I heard her crying from the basement. I rushed down the stairs, only to find her crumpled and crying on the floor, clutching my dead body, my cold hands still clutching the dagger that pierced my heart.
----------------------------
So, ummm I actually couldn't think of a good way to finish this. I mean the current 'ending' is alright but it's only loosely connected to the actual prompt as it is. I felt that I needed to write this afterword to aknowledge that. Wrote this on mobile btw so there are probs typos.
| |
[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'd always feared death. The idea that, one day, life would just- just end? Terrifying in a way I still can't comprehend. It had always been a hidden fear, one that stuck only in the back of my mind, drowned in the happiness of childhood. Until, at age 9, when I watched my Dad fade away in his hospital bed. I watched the light drain from his eyes, and suddenly that hidden fear had no felt so real.
By the time I reached secondary school, I was pouring myself into studying aging, death, any avenue that might alleviate my long time fear. I was scrawny, pale and antisocial, but that was how much this fear drove me, this burning desire to be more, to last longer, to truly matter in the scale of the universe.
No one understood. Not the counsellor, not the teachers and not my mother. At first, my fear burnt away the loneliness, but it slowly built itself back up, another anxiety weighing on my soul.
Then I met her. Karen. The love of my life, the only one who shared my fear. I'd seen her at a lecture I was attending, and it was like seeing myself in another life. The look in her eyes, the desperate fear that came from deep within. The same look that stared at me from every mirror.
We were happy together. We spent countless weeks seeking immortality in the field of science. By the time we were old, we were losing hope that the world would yield the secret we both longed for. Karen decided to stay the course, adamant that science held the answer. Meanwhile, I turned to the arcane.
At first the search seemed futile, with every hack promising the power I sought, but soon enough my diligence caught the attention of the right people. A cult, who possessed the knowledge, but not the means. The Necronomicon, the tome of maddness that no mortal could read. The cultists claimed that one who had enough willpower could navigate the book through sheer determination.
My fear allowed me to browse the book at my leisure. I quickly found what I wanted, the ritual that would grant immortality. Yet, as I read the infernal words, my heart sank. The ritual required a sacrifice, it had to consume that which you loved most.
I showed the book to my wife, fearing what she might ask of me. Yet she took my hands, tears in her eyes, and told me that eternal life was not worth my life. We cried together, accepting that we had failed in our quest. Life would take us both. And, for once in my life, that didn't so bad.
Yet I awoke next morning to an empty bed. Karen was nowhere to be found. I searched the house, the lab, anywhere she might have gone. Finally, I heard her crying from the basement. I rushed down the stairs, only to find her crumpled and crying on the floor, clutching my dead body, my cold hands still clutching the dagger that pierced my heart.
----------------------------
So, ummm I actually couldn't think of a good way to finish this. I mean the current 'ending' is alright but it's only loosely connected to the actual prompt as it is. I felt that I needed to write this afterword to aknowledge that. Wrote this on mobile btw so there are probs typos.
| |
[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 think it's been 15,000 years. Or at least, somewhere around that. I'm not really sure. I haven't left the house in a few millennia at least. There's no point. All I end up doing is scaring a few people, and death goes on. Besides, no matter where I go, it's crowded.
The space issue gets worse in the big cities, and don't even get me started on India and most of Asia. It isn't as bad in the remote regions of the world; Antarctica was only recently populated. I'd say 4000 years ago, give or take a few decades.
15,000 years ago, I was caught in an apartment fire. I woke up and passed out within a minute or two. It actually wasn't that bad. Just a sore throat for a bit. The living don't know it, but there is an after life. To reach it, all you have to do is pass out of memory.
For the big guys like the pharoahs and kings, the great philosophers and warlords, it's been even longer. The trappings of history have bound them forever. As long as there stands a museum dedicated to them, they remain. They make for ok company.
I was just a normal guy from a place that used to be called Virginia. I should have been on my way a few decades after I died. It took me a long time to figure it out, but eventually it dawned on me and all of the other millions of lost souls.
Being able to connect with everyone around the world instantaneously is awesome when you're alive. If you're dead, a digital you is floating around out there, remembered eternally on the almighty internet.
Most of us have accepted it, so we patiently wait for an apocalypse. We pray for the end of all things, and curse Mark Zuckerberg. | 15,000 years is a long time. It's certainly much longer than most of my kind are capable of thinking in. Today, most of them say that it is the year "2017 AD." I, however, can remember people who said it was "747 AVC." I could remember even farther back to a time and place when it was said to be "the 37th year of the reign of Sargon" and further beyond that to the very fist time a woman etched "Year 1" into a rock to track the history of her farming village. That barely even scratched the surface.
It had been 15,000 years since a boar's tusk had pierced my shoulder while trying to catch one for the farm on the river bank. 15,000 years since the festering infection had claimed my body and my life. 14,800 years since the absolute most generous estimates should've sent me on from this world. I was still here.
Ghosts are tethered to the living. When the last person who remembers you dies, you finally vanish. In my day this meant a particularly legendary figure might last 7 generations. An exceptionally old person might last 4-5. More recent people like Alexander the Great had lasted thousands of years thanks to the invention of written history
So far as I knew, the last person to know me alive must have died on that little farm on the banks of the Eruk, well most people called it the "Tigris" these days.
In the last 15,000 years I'd done a lot. Ghosts don't have the superpowers people imagine us with. We're basically just humans that fluctuate in and out of visibility and corporeality. So I can walk through walls, but I've gotta walk like anyone else. No flying, no apparating, no possessing the living, just walking. That's fine by me, you can sneak on to most forms of transit when you're invisible. I remember walking westward, following the sun to see where it landed after my Great-great niece died. I ended up in the luscious and green Sahara with a much better understanding of science than anyone else would develop for a few thousand years. I haven't really stopped walking since and am proud to say that I think I've covered the entire Earth, twice for most places
I hadn't been visible in about 1200 years. Too many religions started that way. I switch over to tangibility all the time though to do little guardian angel type things from fishing someone's keys out of the pool and onto their towel to pulling the firing pin out of a soldier's gun for an innocent family. Little things, sometimes big consequences. My whole afterlife chnaged while doing the latter.
I had recently made the trek home to Eruk, or Mesopotamia, or Iraq, or whatever it's called these days. It was the biggest shitshow I'd seen there since the Mongols. I pulled the firing pin out of a ISIS militant's gun while he was looking down the barrel at a Yazidi woman. The distraction was just long enough for a government soldier to take a shot at the militant. I almost didn't look, but when I did, I saw the soldier's face. He wasn't Arab, his facial features were too broad, his hair too tightly curled, and his skin too dark. He looked like me...
I quickly became visible, standing strange and anachronistic in my animal skin kilt with an apparent wound in my shoulder. My unevenly chopped hair cropped close to my skull and a short and curly beard was similar cut around my jaw. A tattoo adorned my right shoulder, a family symbol of a sort. I saw the recognition in his eyes and the fear of one who has seen a ghost. The soldier's gun fell, but he didnt seem to notice as his hand clutched his own right shoulder.
I knew at that moment, that soldier knew me. He was from Eruk. He was 15,000 years old, and for some reason he was still alive.
| |
[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. | 15,000 years is a long time. It's certainly much longer than most of my kind are capable of thinking in. Today, most of them say that it is the year "2017 AD." I, however, can remember people who said it was "747 AVC." I could remember even farther back to a time and place when it was said to be "the 37th year of the reign of Sargon" and further beyond that to the very fist time a woman etched "Year 1" into a rock to track the history of her farming village. That barely even scratched the surface.
It had been 15,000 years since a boar's tusk had pierced my shoulder while trying to catch one for the farm on the river bank. 15,000 years since the festering infection had claimed my body and my life. 14,800 years since the absolute most generous estimates should've sent me on from this world. I was still here.
Ghosts are tethered to the living. When the last person who remembers you dies, you finally vanish. In my day this meant a particularly legendary figure might last 7 generations. An exceptionally old person might last 4-5. More recent people like Alexander the Great had lasted thousands of years thanks to the invention of written history
So far as I knew, the last person to know me alive must have died on that little farm on the banks of the Eruk, well most people called it the "Tigris" these days.
In the last 15,000 years I'd done a lot. Ghosts don't have the superpowers people imagine us with. We're basically just humans that fluctuate in and out of visibility and corporeality. So I can walk through walls, but I've gotta walk like anyone else. No flying, no apparating, no possessing the living, just walking. That's fine by me, you can sneak on to most forms of transit when you're invisible. I remember walking westward, following the sun to see where it landed after my Great-great niece died. I ended up in the luscious and green Sahara with a much better understanding of science than anyone else would develop for a few thousand years. I haven't really stopped walking since and am proud to say that I think I've covered the entire Earth, twice for most places
I hadn't been visible in about 1200 years. Too many religions started that way. I switch over to tangibility all the time though to do little guardian angel type things from fishing someone's keys out of the pool and onto their towel to pulling the firing pin out of a soldier's gun for an innocent family. Little things, sometimes big consequences. My whole afterlife chnaged while doing the latter.
I had recently made the trek home to Eruk, or Mesopotamia, or Iraq, or whatever it's called these days. It was the biggest shitshow I'd seen there since the Mongols. I pulled the firing pin out of a ISIS militant's gun while he was looking down the barrel at a Yazidi woman. The distraction was just long enough for a government soldier to take a shot at the militant. I almost didn't look, but when I did, I saw the soldier's face. He wasn't Arab, his facial features were too broad, his hair too tightly curled, and his skin too dark. He looked like me...
I quickly became visible, standing strange and anachronistic in my animal skin kilt with an apparent wound in my shoulder. My unevenly chopped hair cropped close to my skull and a short and curly beard was similar cut around my jaw. A tattoo adorned my right shoulder, a family symbol of a sort. I saw the recognition in his eyes and the fear of one who has seen a ghost. The soldier's gun fell, but he didnt seem to notice as his hand clutched his own right shoulder.
I knew at that moment, that soldier knew me. He was from Eruk. He was 15,000 years old, and for some reason he was still alive.
| |
[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 think it's been 15,000 years. Or at least, somewhere around that. I'm not really sure. I haven't left the house in a few millennia at least. There's no point. All I end up doing is scaring a few people, and death goes on. Besides, no matter where I go, it's crowded.
The space issue gets worse in the big cities, and don't even get me started on India and most of Asia. It isn't as bad in the remote regions of the world; Antarctica was only recently populated. I'd say 4000 years ago, give or take a few decades.
15,000 years ago, I was caught in an apartment fire. I woke up and passed out within a minute or two. It actually wasn't that bad. Just a sore throat for a bit. The living don't know it, but there is an after life. To reach it, all you have to do is pass out of memory.
For the big guys like the pharoahs and kings, the great philosophers and warlords, it's been even longer. The trappings of history have bound them forever. As long as there stands a museum dedicated to them, they remain. They make for ok company.
I was just a normal guy from a place that used to be called Virginia. I should have been on my way a few decades after I died. It took me a long time to figure it out, but eventually it dawned on me and all of the other millions of lost souls.
Being able to connect with everyone around the world instantaneously is awesome when you're alive. If you're dead, a digital you is floating around out there, remembered eternally on the almighty internet.
Most of us have accepted it, so we patiently wait for an apocalypse. We pray for the end of all things, and curse Mark Zuckerberg. | I spent my entire life believing, "Heaven was a place called Earth." I wish I would have been right.... 15,000 years and nothing has changed. Well, for me anyways. Many people have come and gone, I have learned countless stories from trillions, yet, I still remain. An ironic punishment of sorts I could say, I did so much to preserve humanity it was only fitting I would be here to help others understand their lives. There were others like me, some had been around for as long as myself, others longer, but for the majority you got 100-200 years maybe.
A light started to flash next to me as I focused back out on my surroundings. "Time to go to work," I yawned stretching my back. The faded shells of people moved all around me as I floated down from my perch. The fountains water did not touch me, just flowed through my body. Before me a man began to gain color from his faded self. Many other faded persons gathered around him attempting to help, but like the trillions I had seen before, he was beyond help.
"Stay back!" He yelled at those surrounding him, waving his arms about as he stood up. I gave a little chuckle as I flowed the rest of the way down. "They cannot hear you anymore," I spoke, placing my hand on his shoulder. Angry, he lashed back, as per usual, pulling away as if to run. As the reality of things set in, he turned back to me dumb founded. His eyes shifted past me to the faded fountain I had come to call home. "Where am I?" He whispered as I flowed my way next to him. 'Welcome to purgatory," I spoke, "Or at least that's what I like to call it, I've never really been sure." He continued to look completely lost, like so many before him. That expression never changes, even with time. "So I'm de...." "Dead," I spoke, cutting him off. "You have left the bounds of mortality indeed"
I let him sit just staring at the fountain as faded shadows pasted around us. I had all the time in the world for all I knew, and after waiting so long I was no longer impatient. I looked over the person before me as I had done many times before. A simple man in comparison to my last 'visitor'. A plain set of clothes uncommon, yet standard for the time. Comfortable clothes were always the best way to go, especially if you didn't know how long you would have to wait. Advance medical watch and ear pieces paired with what I could only imagine where bionics. He also seemed to have been lucky, he clutched a cube I knew had to be a new form of a satchel. He would have some familiar objects to toy with while he waited.
I gave a smile as I realized his watch was a version of mine from his time. I always knew it to be a good brand, too bad it held little meaning here aside as a friendly reminder to his own time. I opened my satchel, and removed my journal. I flipped open to my marked page and turned to a blank sheet. Trillions of notes taken, yet I still would find a new sheet when I would come to the end. A glorious perk of being here I suppose, yet, when I was gone who would read this. I continued to wait for what seemed like eons, until finally he turned towards me. "Yes?" I spoke knowing he was finally ready. "It's you isn't it?" He asked, turning back to the fountain once again. "Yes, I replied, it's been quite a while."
He bent down to look at the fountain's plate, faded in the twilight the numbers 1994 - 2037 could be seen. He sat back up and moved his hand across his watch. June 17, 17048 flashed in front of him before blinking back down. A confused look passed over his face once again, "How does this all work?" "Well," I spoke, "It's a bit complicated; however, as I have learned from my time here you can still use anything that was on your person when you passed over." "So," he spoke softly, "I can send a message to my family?" I laughed a little, "I'm afraid not, although that is always the first question it seems." "You can try to send one if you want, but they will only get a form of interference, in my time you could cause a phone call with no one on the other end to come through; however, I do not think your technology works that way anymore."
He began to look over me more closely now. My hiking shoes, jeans, and button down shirt was something out of a history book to him in comparison to his jumpsuit. Technology had always had a way in making things less unique in a sense. He then focused around us at the shadows we stood by. He reached out in curiosity as the shadow closed her arms feeling a chill. "Are they..." "Alive?" I spoke, "Yes, you are still on Earth, just in a different form of existence." He let out a long sigh before turning to face me once again, "So what do we do now?" "I gave a smile as I touched his shoulder, "We help those that pass understand this and wait." "Wait for what?" He said, looking once again confused as before. "Well, I don't really know, but in time you will learned." "Come," I motioned towards the road ahead of us. "Let's go and find your passed friends and family, I am sure they have missed you." He turned with me and began to walk. "If you don't mind me asking," He questioned, "Can you tell me about your life while we look." "You're the single most important person in history." I patted his back as we continued down the road, "Of course, ..." "Daniel," he said excited. "Of course Daniel," I smiled, "where would you like me to begin."
Behind us the shadows continued to walk along with the occasional few stopping to admire the fountain. Some throwing objects into the water, others bowing there heads in respect. One knelt down and cleaned off the name plate, smiling as he worked. The golden name etched forever in history. T. Ten, The Great Archivist, Savior of all Records. | |
[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 spent my entire life believing, "Heaven was a place called Earth." I wish I would have been right.... 15,000 years and nothing has changed. Well, for me anyways. Many people have come and gone, I have learned countless stories from trillions, yet, I still remain. An ironic punishment of sorts I could say, I did so much to preserve humanity it was only fitting I would be here to help others understand their lives. There were others like me, some had been around for as long as myself, others longer, but for the majority you got 100-200 years maybe.
A light started to flash next to me as I focused back out on my surroundings. "Time to go to work," I yawned stretching my back. The faded shells of people moved all around me as I floated down from my perch. The fountains water did not touch me, just flowed through my body. Before me a man began to gain color from his faded self. Many other faded persons gathered around him attempting to help, but like the trillions I had seen before, he was beyond help.
"Stay back!" He yelled at those surrounding him, waving his arms about as he stood up. I gave a little chuckle as I flowed the rest of the way down. "They cannot hear you anymore," I spoke, placing my hand on his shoulder. Angry, he lashed back, as per usual, pulling away as if to run. As the reality of things set in, he turned back to me dumb founded. His eyes shifted past me to the faded fountain I had come to call home. "Where am I?" He whispered as I flowed my way next to him. 'Welcome to purgatory," I spoke, "Or at least that's what I like to call it, I've never really been sure." He continued to look completely lost, like so many before him. That expression never changes, even with time. "So I'm de...." "Dead," I spoke, cutting him off. "You have left the bounds of mortality indeed"
I let him sit just staring at the fountain as faded shadows pasted around us. I had all the time in the world for all I knew, and after waiting so long I was no longer impatient. I looked over the person before me as I had done many times before. A simple man in comparison to my last 'visitor'. A plain set of clothes uncommon, yet standard for the time. Comfortable clothes were always the best way to go, especially if you didn't know how long you would have to wait. Advance medical watch and ear pieces paired with what I could only imagine where bionics. He also seemed to have been lucky, he clutched a cube I knew had to be a new form of a satchel. He would have some familiar objects to toy with while he waited.
I gave a smile as I realized his watch was a version of mine from his time. I always knew it to be a good brand, too bad it held little meaning here aside as a friendly reminder to his own time. I opened my satchel, and removed my journal. I flipped open to my marked page and turned to a blank sheet. Trillions of notes taken, yet I still would find a new sheet when I would come to the end. A glorious perk of being here I suppose, yet, when I was gone who would read this. I continued to wait for what seemed like eons, until finally he turned towards me. "Yes?" I spoke knowing he was finally ready. "It's you isn't it?" He asked, turning back to the fountain once again. "Yes, I replied, it's been quite a while."
He bent down to look at the fountain's plate, faded in the twilight the numbers 1994 - 2037 could be seen. He sat back up and moved his hand across his watch. June 17, 17048 flashed in front of him before blinking back down. A confused look passed over his face once again, "How does this all work?" "Well," I spoke, "It's a bit complicated; however, as I have learned from my time here you can still use anything that was on your person when you passed over." "So," he spoke softly, "I can send a message to my family?" I laughed a little, "I'm afraid not, although that is always the first question it seems." "You can try to send one if you want, but they will only get a form of interference, in my time you could cause a phone call with no one on the other end to come through; however, I do not think your technology works that way anymore."
He began to look over me more closely now. My hiking shoes, jeans, and button down shirt was something out of a history book to him in comparison to his jumpsuit. Technology had always had a way in making things less unique in a sense. He then focused around us at the shadows we stood by. He reached out in curiosity as the shadow closed her arms feeling a chill. "Are they..." "Alive?" I spoke, "Yes, you are still on Earth, just in a different form of existence." He let out a long sigh before turning to face me once again, "So what do we do now?" "I gave a smile as I touched his shoulder, "We help those that pass understand this and wait." "Wait for what?" He said, looking once again confused as before. "Well, I don't really know, but in time you will learned." "Come," I motioned towards the road ahead of us. "Let's go and find your passed friends and family, I am sure they have missed you." He turned with me and began to walk. "If you don't mind me asking," He questioned, "Can you tell me about your life while we look." "You're the single most important person in history." I patted his back as we continued down the road, "Of course, ..." "Daniel," he said excited. "Of course Daniel," I smiled, "where would you like me to begin."
Behind us the shadows continued to walk along with the occasional few stopping to admire the fountain. Some throwing objects into the water, others bowing there heads in respect. One knelt down and cleaned off the name plate, smiling as he worked. The golden name etched forever in history. T. Ten, The Great Archivist, Savior of all Records. | |
[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 think it's been 15,000 years. Or at least, somewhere around that. I'm not really sure. I haven't left the house in a few millennia at least. There's no point. All I end up doing is scaring a few people, and death goes on. Besides, no matter where I go, it's crowded.
The space issue gets worse in the big cities, and don't even get me started on India and most of Asia. It isn't as bad in the remote regions of the world; Antarctica was only recently populated. I'd say 4000 years ago, give or take a few decades.
15,000 years ago, I was caught in an apartment fire. I woke up and passed out within a minute or two. It actually wasn't that bad. Just a sore throat for a bit. The living don't know it, but there is an after life. To reach it, all you have to do is pass out of memory.
For the big guys like the pharoahs and kings, the great philosophers and warlords, it's been even longer. The trappings of history have bound them forever. As long as there stands a museum dedicated to them, they remain. They make for ok company.
I was just a normal guy from a place that used to be called Virginia. I should have been on my way a few decades after I died. It took me a long time to figure it out, but eventually it dawned on me and all of the other millions of lost souls.
Being able to connect with everyone around the world instantaneously is awesome when you're alive. If you're dead, a digital you is floating around out there, remembered eternally on the almighty internet.
Most of us have accepted it, so we patiently wait for an apocalypse. We pray for the end of all things, and curse Mark Zuckerberg. | I suppose this wasn't your typical session, but then again, I'm not your typical therapist.
I sat quietly in the chair opposite them. "So," I spoke quietly. "What are you here for?"
Their updated Ouija boards were now completely automated, scripting my words onto a screen while simultaneously repeating them aloud with its surprisingly human voice. Not only that, its intonation and inflection had a remarkable resemblance to my own while I was alive.
"You don't recognize me?" she said, sitting there quietly.
I sat there silently in thought, racking my brain for memories, as the bouncing dots of the ellipses covered the screen. "*Why would I know?*" I thought. "*Who is she...?*"
"Oh," she said with dejectedness, looking down to the floor before she began standing up. "Death followed by fifteen thousand years can do that to your mind."
"No, wait!" I interrupted.
She stopped halfway out of her seat before looking at where I would have been sitting. "Please stay," I asked of her. "I'd like to know."
I could tell from her body language that she was processing the whole situation, wondering if she should stay or go. "What's your name?"
Slowly, she sat back down on the edge of her seat. "Anna," she said. "My name is Anna."
A mental *click!* went off in my head, as I watched her eyes brighten if only for a moment. "*Where do I remember that...?*"
"We met each other, way back when," she said, looking blankly through me and into the wall behind me. "In 2017."
Suddenly, memories began flowing through a trickle at a time, before what she said next broke the wall that opened up the flood.
"You...uh, we...there was a car accident..."
She couldn't continue, as she felt her voice break. Anna sniffled, and wiped away a tear from her eye, embarrassed to let me see.
"And, uh, that's when doctors learned I could never die."
I nodded, the memories hitting me harder than I expected them to, although I quickly remembered she couldn't see me. "So that's why we're still here," I said behind sniffles of my own.
She nodded, dabbing her nose with a tissue. "Yeah," she replied.
We sat in silence, the howling wind outside the window the only sound in this eerily quiet home.
After all these years, we were finally together. So close, yet so far. | |
[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 suppose this wasn't your typical session, but then again, I'm not your typical therapist.
I sat quietly in the chair opposite them. "So," I spoke quietly. "What are you here for?"
Their updated Ouija boards were now completely automated, scripting my words onto a screen while simultaneously repeating them aloud with its surprisingly human voice. Not only that, its intonation and inflection had a remarkable resemblance to my own while I was alive.
"You don't recognize me?" she said, sitting there quietly.
I sat there silently in thought, racking my brain for memories, as the bouncing dots of the ellipses covered the screen. "*Why would I know?*" I thought. "*Who is she...?*"
"Oh," she said with dejectedness, looking down to the floor before she began standing up. "Death followed by fifteen thousand years can do that to your mind."
"No, wait!" I interrupted.
She stopped halfway out of her seat before looking at where I would have been sitting. "Please stay," I asked of her. "I'd like to know."
I could tell from her body language that she was processing the whole situation, wondering if she should stay or go. "What's your name?"
Slowly, she sat back down on the edge of her seat. "Anna," she said. "My name is Anna."
A mental *click!* went off in my head, as I watched her eyes brighten if only for a moment. "*Where do I remember that...?*"
"We met each other, way back when," she said, looking blankly through me and into the wall behind me. "In 2017."
Suddenly, memories began flowing through a trickle at a time, before what she said next broke the wall that opened up the flood.
"You...uh, we...there was a car accident..."
She couldn't continue, as she felt her voice break. Anna sniffled, and wiped away a tear from her eye, embarrassed to let me see.
"And, uh, that's when doctors learned I could never die."
I nodded, the memories hitting me harder than I expected them to, although I quickly remembered she couldn't see me. "So that's why we're still here," I said behind sniffles of my own.
She nodded, dabbing her nose with a tissue. "Yeah," she replied.
We sat in silence, the howling wind outside the window the only sound in this eerily quiet home.
After all these years, we were finally together. So close, yet so far. | |
[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 think it's been 15,000 years. Or at least, somewhere around that. I'm not really sure. I haven't left the house in a few millennia at least. There's no point. All I end up doing is scaring a few people, and death goes on. Besides, no matter where I go, it's crowded.
The space issue gets worse in the big cities, and don't even get me started on India and most of Asia. It isn't as bad in the remote regions of the world; Antarctica was only recently populated. I'd say 4000 years ago, give or take a few decades.
15,000 years ago, I was caught in an apartment fire. I woke up and passed out within a minute or two. It actually wasn't that bad. Just a sore throat for a bit. The living don't know it, but there is an after life. To reach it, all you have to do is pass out of memory.
For the big guys like the pharoahs and kings, the great philosophers and warlords, it's been even longer. The trappings of history have bound them forever. As long as there stands a museum dedicated to them, they remain. They make for ok company.
I was just a normal guy from a place that used to be called Virginia. I should have been on my way a few decades after I died. It took me a long time to figure it out, but eventually it dawned on me and all of the other millions of lost souls.
Being able to connect with everyone around the world instantaneously is awesome when you're alive. If you're dead, a digital you is floating around out there, remembered eternally on the almighty internet.
Most of us have accepted it, so we patiently wait for an apocalypse. We pray for the end of all things, and curse Mark Zuckerberg. | |
[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 has been 15.000 years since my death.
I am still roaming the earth, haunting the living.
They say your ghost lives until everyone who knew who you were dies too.
But I have not died.
They will not let me die.
They keep saying my name.
Both sides of them.
There are those that make me look like a monster.
Those that say I was the most unholy thing to ever roam the world.
And then there are those that still worship me.
Those that still keep interwinning my name with their cause.
Those that use my name as a lever to promote their own agentas.
And lastly, there are those that know the truth.
Those that know that I was not a monster.
But not a saint either.
Those that know that I did great bad in this world.
Those that do not exaggerate my actions.
Those that do not praise my actions.
But I know that I will never stop haunting this world.
Not untill the whole of Humanity has died.
And then it's only a guess.
If I'm unlucky another life form might find the books.
Another life form may find another hidden room filled with my belongings.
---
Hey guys, I tried to do this mysterious and kinda poetic, while dropping hints about who the ghost was, in case you did not understand, the ghost is:
[Spoiler](#s "Adolf Hitler. Please note that I do not praise him or his actions. I am not affiliated with Neo-Nazi groups, or am a Neo-Nazi. I believe that because a person was not on the good side of history, he should not be considered taboo and be excluded from arts and writings.")
---
[A bit of explanation:](#s "The one's that worship him are the Neo-Nazis, while the ones that make him look like a monster are the one's that hate him immensely and put all of humanity's problem's on him. The third group are those that know a bit of history, and do not exagerate or dismiss things. And on the the end, by "Books" I mean history books or "Mein Kampf", and by "room with belongings" I reference the recent discovery of 75 of Hitler's personal items in Argentina.")
| |
[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. | Bill was having a beer with Al Capone, Shakespeare, Genghis Khan and the first dog to go to space when he broke down in tears.
"What's wrong?" Al Capone asked, behind a foam mustache from his pint.
"He gets like that when he drinks," Socrates, who had just joined them, said. "I've seen it before."
"Remind me again," Genghis Khan interrupted, "who the hell is this guy?"
Bill just cried. They were at one of the space colonies, at the local tavern. The people around them – the real, live people – couldn't see them.
"He's no one," Jack the Ripper added, taking a seat by Bill. "Not famous. So... did we start the meeting yet?"
"Every ghost here is famous," Khan said. "No one survives thousands of years if they didn't do something big."
"True that," said Da Vinci, from the corner of the bar, by Cleopatra's side.
"Well, Bill's just Bill," Jack the Ripper said. "Isn't that right, Bill?"
From his place at the edge of the table, Bill just cried.
It was the annual 'Ghosts Over 1,000 Years Old meetup'.
"What's wrong with him, then?" Jesse James asked, from the counter, his lips around a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster.
"Why is he crying?"
Shakespeare nodded towards the end of the tavern, at a faraway table by the window opening to the dotted blackness of the galaxy spinning just outside. "Them. He's crying because of them."
A young couple sat there.
"Who are those?"
"*That* is Artemis, she's a living girl, you know, from the current time," Shakespeare said. "And the one across from her is… I don't know, her date, I guess."
The others watched. The girl – Artemis – chatted lively with a handsome man in military outfit. One of the colony's
captains, probably. Young, but very tall.
At the mention of Artemis' name, Bill cried harder.
"And, what?" Genghis Khan said, "is he like into her or something?"
"Dude, he's a ghost," Michelangelo added. "Of course he's not into her."
"Sorry I'm late guys, I thought you said Colony 19, not 29," Theodore Roosevelt had just arrived. He took a seat by Homer's side. "So… what are we talking about this month? Oh… who's this?"
"It's Bill. Apparently." Genghis Khan shrugged. "He didn't conquer any land or cured any illness. I don't get it either."
"Okay… Bill never attends these meetings, guys," Shakespeare said. "Because he's not like us. He's the only ghost
that's lived over a thousand years without being famous. He doesn't feel at home. And… well, he's always afraid
that… *this* will happen." He nodded towards the girl Artemis again. "That he'll run into her."
"Will someone explain to me who the fuck that girl is, please!?" Gandhi, who always got like this after a few drinks,
uttered, slamming the table. He burped.
"Artemis is the great-great-great," Jack the Ripper paused for breath… "great-great… add several more greats
there… granddaughter of a French girl named Celine."
At the mention of this name, Bill hid his face between his hands and sniffed loudly.
"Celine was Bill's summer love in high school, like, a LOT of years ago," Shakespeare added, his voice wrapped around something like envy… like he wished he'd himself have written the love story they were telling Khan.
"And things didn't really work out between them," Socrates said. "Celine had to move back to France, she was
staying in the USA for the summer only."
"What the fuck is a USA?" Genghis asked.
"Okay, I take offense in that," Christopher Columbus said, returning from the bathroom and pulling up a chair. "I told you about the New World already like a thousand times, Genghis."
"The point is…" Shakespeare continued, "Bill was never happy again. Couldn't get married. Could never find a girl like Celine. She was... the one."
"Celine, however, did find a man back in Paris and started a family. You know, eventually."
"But apparently she never forgot Bill either…"
"Because she'd tell the story of her American summer love to her daughter every night…"
"... who thought the story was so beautiful she told it to *her* daughter…"
"... and so on and so forth…"
"… for fifteen thousand years…"
"… and hence why Bill can't die. The story is still going strong."
Silence took over the table. On the corner, they could see Artemis leaning forward, telling something to her date.
A story, perhaps.
"And the sad part is," Shakespeare said, in a low voice, "that since Bill never had a family…"
"… he had no one to tell the story to…"
"… and so Celine isn't alive anymore…"
"… because you have to be remembered by someone other than your family, naturally, otherwise the world would
be crawling with anonymous ghosts…"
"… so because he loved her so much that he could never find anyone else…"
"… and because their love story was so beautiful that it survived 15,000 years in Celine's family…"
Bill burped…
"… Bill's getting drunk now," Genghis Khan finished, understand at last. "Holy shit. That's heavy."
Bill got up. He cleaned his eyes. "I gotta pee," he said, slowly.
In her corner, Laika barked sadly and in Russian.
Bill dragged himself towards the bathroom. The ghost table watched him go, in silence. By the window, Artemis' date was saying, "Wow, that's such a beautiful story…"
Genghis would deny it later, but Michelangelo, who was sitting nearby, swear he heard an emotive sniff.
________
*For more stories where I subtly imply that Shakespeare would be envious of my writing skills, check out /r/psycho_alpaca =)* | It has been 15.000 years since my death.
I am still roaming the earth, haunting the living.
They say your ghost lives until everyone who knew who you were dies too.
But I have not died.
They will not let me die.
They keep saying my name.
Both sides of them.
There are those that make me look like a monster.
Those that say I was the most unholy thing to ever roam the world.
And then there are those that still worship me.
Those that still keep interwinning my name with their cause.
Those that use my name as a lever to promote their own agentas.
And lastly, there are those that know the truth.
Those that know that I was not a monster.
But not a saint either.
Those that know that I did great bad in this world.
Those that do not exaggerate my actions.
Those that do not praise my actions.
But I know that I will never stop haunting this world.
Not untill the whole of Humanity has died.
And then it's only a guess.
If I'm unlucky another life form might find the books.
Another life form may find another hidden room filled with my belongings.
---
Hey guys, I tried to do this mysterious and kinda poetic, while dropping hints about who the ghost was, in case you did not understand, the ghost is:
[Spoiler](#s "Adolf Hitler. Please note that I do not praise him or his actions. I am not affiliated with Neo-Nazi groups, or am a Neo-Nazi. I believe that because a person was not on the good side of history, he should not be considered taboo and be excluded from arts and writings.")
---
[A bit of explanation:](#s "The one's that worship him are the Neo-Nazis, while the ones that make him look like a monster are the one's that hate him immensely and put all of humanity's problem's on him. The third group are those that know a bit of history, and do not exagerate or dismiss things. And on the the end, by "Books" I mean history books or "Mein Kampf", and by "room with belongings" I reference the recent discovery of 75 of Hitler's personal items in Argentina.")
| |
[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 damn boy had found the book. Even worse, the exact *page* with his name.
"Put it down," he hissed, trying to summon the necessary rage to project his voice enough to reach the living boy's ear. "Do as I say, or suffer the consequences - you'll rue this day, I will - "
The child lifted his hand, idly smoothing his hair as he imagined a breeze passing through the room. Godammit. After so many millennia, he just didn't have the power anymore. He hadn't even been able to lift so much as a piece of paper or make one syllable heard for years now. Fading with every passing day, but never enough to simply wink out. No, he was doomed to roam the earth as little more than a wisp of smoke, drawn inevitably to the cursed books that carried his name.
"Rama Odah," the boy sounded out the syllables, and in an agony of pain and pleasure, he felt his identity shiver and strengthen, a blade of grass tasting water after a drought.
"Mom, what's this?" the boy asked the woman - Kelly, or something, if he remembered right - who suddenly swept into the study, distractedly looking for something she'd lost. Her 'cellphone', probably. The people of this age were somehow anchored to the things.
"Oh," Kelly said, a slight smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. "Nice one, Zack. You found the family heirloom. I wanted you to find it yourself, you know..."
Her voice bubbled with enthusiasm as she told the boy, not caring that she tied him to the Earth with each word, even though she scarcely believed half of her own story. The relic of a philosopher who had died thousands of years ago, leaving his library of work in the care of only his relatives. And each generation had passed it onto the next, not breathing a word to anyone outside the family of its contents.
"He was a great man," she said finally. "He had the most beautiful ideas about all sorts of things, centuries before his time. The nature of immortality, the afterlife, good and evil, the desire for power...there's a section of his work that seems to speculate on parallel universes, you know. Well, we've no idea how old this stuff really is. You'll see we made notes and possible translations of the terminology in the margins, throughout the years. Pretty neat, though, huh? You know, I remember my grandma telling me she thought the house might be haunted by the man. A story *her* mother told her. Haven't spotted him myself, though."
They both chuckled, though the boy's eyes widened at the tale.
"You're reading a copy of the original, of course," she added. "Read all of it, tell me what you think, and I might let you have a peek at the originals."
She dropped him a shadow of a wink and backed out of the room, as if she had to give him privacy for some monumental task.
Rama groaned to himself as the boy read with evident absorption, his name imprinting itself forever onto the kid's mind. Great. Another eighty-odd years of this life. The boy would likely pass the story on to his own children, too. He'd long ago accepted it as his punishment for daring to speculate on the nature of life after death. Of course, he'd seen the other spirits - clearly, his punishment wasn't unique.
But his had to be one of the *longest*, all due to his arrogance in trying to ensure his name. It wouldn't have been so bad, if only they weren't so obsessed with the mystery of keeping his name a secret, even amongst themselves. Oh, they thought of him, sometimes. But they didn't share his ideas, didn't *really* talk about him. He was a kooky relic to pass on from one generation to the next, like a dusty ring on a shelf, not a topic of conversation at dinner.
He didn't even have that much fame in the shadow of life he could claim as his own.
Rama watched morosely as the boy sank down in front of the curious thing he called his 'computer', fingers flying over the keys on the desk. Probably to play one of his accursed video games. Zack had already *mostly* forgotten about him, shelving him into a little corner of his mind that would, nevertheless, sustain him for decades more of life. Damn him. Damn them all to hell, if it existed. How would he even know.
Hours later, Rama felt himself jerked into wakefulness. He hadn't slept, of course, but he could fade away into a murkiness that resembled most closely the release he sought. But he was *awake*, more alive than he had felt in centuries.
"What?" he croaked, and he saw the boy jump and whip his head around, his face pale and pinched in the dark room. He seemed unnerved. Rama almost felt like his heart was racing, if he still had one. His name was being repeated.
Once, twice. A *dozen* times.
He drifted closer to the boy, and read over his shoulder. A strange glowing page carried the legend "Philosophers Den - welcome to our corner of the web". Somehow, it was reaffirming him - his name was being called. He read the comments with growing amazement. They were popping up every now and then, seemingly from nowhere.
*An heirloom, did you say? What is the guy's name? I can't really make out the handwriting...*
*Rama Odah, I think,* another said. *This is pretty cool stuff, man. The language seems right for the period, at least, this could be a major discovery. Can you scan the rest of the pages tomorrow?*
The boy - Zack, Rama remembered with sudden clarity - turned his attention to the screen again, and typed a response.
*Sure thing. I don't know why my family hid this from the world for so long, but I'd like to change things*. Shortly after, Zack yawned and made his way to bed.
Rama stood staring at the screen long after it had gone dark, long after Zack's breathing dropped into the deep rhythm of sleep.
He trembled as he moved his hand forward, and pressed the power button, summoning every atom of energy buzzing through his being. He could hardly believe his eyes as it hummed to life.
The blessed boy - his *descendant*, after all - had found the key to life after death. At last.
-----------
[Part Two](https://www.reddit.com/r/Inkfinger/comments/6jr72k/part_two_when_you_die_your_ghost_remains_in_the/)
[Part Three](https://www.reddit.com/r/Inkfinger/comments/6jt0va/part_three_when_you_die_your_ghost_remains_in_the/)
[Part Four/Conclusion](https://www.reddit.com/r/Inkfinger/comments/6jz38r/part_four_when_you_die_your_ghost_remains_in_the/)
Hope you enjoyed my story! You can find more of my work on /r/Inkfinger/. | It has been 15.000 years since my death.
I am still roaming the earth, haunting the living.
They say your ghost lives until everyone who knew who you were dies too.
But I have not died.
They will not let me die.
They keep saying my name.
Both sides of them.
There are those that make me look like a monster.
Those that say I was the most unholy thing to ever roam the world.
And then there are those that still worship me.
Those that still keep interwinning my name with their cause.
Those that use my name as a lever to promote their own agentas.
And lastly, there are those that know the truth.
Those that know that I was not a monster.
But not a saint either.
Those that know that I did great bad in this world.
Those that do not exaggerate my actions.
Those that do not praise my actions.
But I know that I will never stop haunting this world.
Not untill the whole of Humanity has died.
And then it's only a guess.
If I'm unlucky another life form might find the books.
Another life form may find another hidden room filled with my belongings.
---
Hey guys, I tried to do this mysterious and kinda poetic, while dropping hints about who the ghost was, in case you did not understand, the ghost is:
[Spoiler](#s "Adolf Hitler. Please note that I do not praise him or his actions. I am not affiliated with Neo-Nazi groups, or am a Neo-Nazi. I believe that because a person was not on the good side of history, he should not be considered taboo and be excluded from arts and writings.")
---
[A bit of explanation:](#s "The one's that worship him are the Neo-Nazis, while the ones that make him look like a monster are the one's that hate him immensely and put all of humanity's problem's on him. The third group are those that know a bit of history, and do not exagerate or dismiss things. And on the the end, by "Books" I mean history books or "Mein Kampf", and by "room with belongings" I reference the recent discovery of 75 of Hitler's personal items in Argentina.")
| |
[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 damn boy had found the book. Even worse, the exact *page* with his name.
"Put it down," he hissed, trying to summon the necessary rage to project his voice enough to reach the living boy's ear. "Do as I say, or suffer the consequences - you'll rue this day, I will - "
The child lifted his hand, idly smoothing his hair as he imagined a breeze passing through the room. Godammit. After so many millennia, he just didn't have the power anymore. He hadn't even been able to lift so much as a piece of paper or make one syllable heard for years now. Fading with every passing day, but never enough to simply wink out. No, he was doomed to roam the earth as little more than a wisp of smoke, drawn inevitably to the cursed books that carried his name.
"Rama Odah," the boy sounded out the syllables, and in an agony of pain and pleasure, he felt his identity shiver and strengthen, a blade of grass tasting water after a drought.
"Mom, what's this?" the boy asked the woman - Kelly, or something, if he remembered right - who suddenly swept into the study, distractedly looking for something she'd lost. Her 'cellphone', probably. The people of this age were somehow anchored to the things.
"Oh," Kelly said, a slight smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. "Nice one, Zack. You found the family heirloom. I wanted you to find it yourself, you know..."
Her voice bubbled with enthusiasm as she told the boy, not caring that she tied him to the Earth with each word, even though she scarcely believed half of her own story. The relic of a philosopher who had died thousands of years ago, leaving his library of work in the care of only his relatives. And each generation had passed it onto the next, not breathing a word to anyone outside the family of its contents.
"He was a great man," she said finally. "He had the most beautiful ideas about all sorts of things, centuries before his time. The nature of immortality, the afterlife, good and evil, the desire for power...there's a section of his work that seems to speculate on parallel universes, you know. Well, we've no idea how old this stuff really is. You'll see we made notes and possible translations of the terminology in the margins, throughout the years. Pretty neat, though, huh? You know, I remember my grandma telling me she thought the house might be haunted by the man. A story *her* mother told her. Haven't spotted him myself, though."
They both chuckled, though the boy's eyes widened at the tale.
"You're reading a copy of the original, of course," she added. "Read all of it, tell me what you think, and I might let you have a peek at the originals."
She dropped him a shadow of a wink and backed out of the room, as if she had to give him privacy for some monumental task.
Rama groaned to himself as the boy read with evident absorption, his name imprinting itself forever onto the kid's mind. Great. Another eighty-odd years of this life. The boy would likely pass the story on to his own children, too. He'd long ago accepted it as his punishment for daring to speculate on the nature of life after death. Of course, he'd seen the other spirits - clearly, his punishment wasn't unique.
But his had to be one of the *longest*, all due to his arrogance in trying to ensure his name. It wouldn't have been so bad, if only they weren't so obsessed with the mystery of keeping his name a secret, even amongst themselves. Oh, they thought of him, sometimes. But they didn't share his ideas, didn't *really* talk about him. He was a kooky relic to pass on from one generation to the next, like a dusty ring on a shelf, not a topic of conversation at dinner.
He didn't even have that much fame in the shadow of life he could claim as his own.
Rama watched morosely as the boy sank down in front of the curious thing he called his 'computer', fingers flying over the keys on the desk. Probably to play one of his accursed video games. Zack had already *mostly* forgotten about him, shelving him into a little corner of his mind that would, nevertheless, sustain him for decades more of life. Damn him. Damn them all to hell, if it existed. How would he even know.
Hours later, Rama felt himself jerked into wakefulness. He hadn't slept, of course, but he could fade away into a murkiness that resembled most closely the release he sought. But he was *awake*, more alive than he had felt in centuries.
"What?" he croaked, and he saw the boy jump and whip his head around, his face pale and pinched in the dark room. He seemed unnerved. Rama almost felt like his heart was racing, if he still had one. His name was being repeated.
Once, twice. A *dozen* times.
He drifted closer to the boy, and read over his shoulder. A strange glowing page carried the legend "Philosophers Den - welcome to our corner of the web". Somehow, it was reaffirming him - his name was being called. He read the comments with growing amazement. They were popping up every now and then, seemingly from nowhere.
*An heirloom, did you say? What is the guy's name? I can't really make out the handwriting...*
*Rama Odah, I think,* another said. *This is pretty cool stuff, man. The language seems right for the period, at least, this could be a major discovery. Can you scan the rest of the pages tomorrow?*
The boy - Zack, Rama remembered with sudden clarity - turned his attention to the screen again, and typed a response.
*Sure thing. I don't know why my family hid this from the world for so long, but I'd like to change things*. Shortly after, Zack yawned and made his way to bed.
Rama stood staring at the screen long after it had gone dark, long after Zack's breathing dropped into the deep rhythm of sleep.
He trembled as he moved his hand forward, and pressed the power button, summoning every atom of energy buzzing through his being. He could hardly believe his eyes as it hummed to life.
The blessed boy - his *descendant*, after all - had found the key to life after death. At last.
-----------
[Part Two](https://www.reddit.com/r/Inkfinger/comments/6jr72k/part_two_when_you_die_your_ghost_remains_in_the/)
[Part Three](https://www.reddit.com/r/Inkfinger/comments/6jt0va/part_three_when_you_die_your_ghost_remains_in_the/)
[Part Four/Conclusion](https://www.reddit.com/r/Inkfinger/comments/6jz38r/part_four_when_you_die_your_ghost_remains_in_the/)
Hope you enjoyed my story! You can find more of my work on /r/Inkfinger/. | Bill was having a beer with Al Capone, Shakespeare, Genghis Khan and the first dog to go to space when he broke down in tears.
"What's wrong?" Al Capone asked, behind a foam mustache from his pint.
"He gets like that when he drinks," Socrates, who had just joined them, said. "I've seen it before."
"Remind me again," Genghis Khan interrupted, "who the hell is this guy?"
Bill just cried. They were at one of the space colonies, at the local tavern. The people around them – the real, live people – couldn't see them.
"He's no one," Jack the Ripper added, taking a seat by Bill. "Not famous. So... did we start the meeting yet?"
"Every ghost here is famous," Khan said. "No one survives thousands of years if they didn't do something big."
"True that," said Da Vinci, from the corner of the bar, by Cleopatra's side.
"Well, Bill's just Bill," Jack the Ripper said. "Isn't that right, Bill?"
From his place at the edge of the table, Bill just cried.
It was the annual 'Ghosts Over 1,000 Years Old meetup'.
"What's wrong with him, then?" Jesse James asked, from the counter, his lips around a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster.
"Why is he crying?"
Shakespeare nodded towards the end of the tavern, at a faraway table by the window opening to the dotted blackness of the galaxy spinning just outside. "Them. He's crying because of them."
A young couple sat there.
"Who are those?"
"*That* is Artemis, she's a living girl, you know, from the current time," Shakespeare said. "And the one across from her is… I don't know, her date, I guess."
The others watched. The girl – Artemis – chatted lively with a handsome man in military outfit. One of the colony's
captains, probably. Young, but very tall.
At the mention of Artemis' name, Bill cried harder.
"And, what?" Genghis Khan said, "is he like into her or something?"
"Dude, he's a ghost," Michelangelo added. "Of course he's not into her."
"Sorry I'm late guys, I thought you said Colony 19, not 29," Theodore Roosevelt had just arrived. He took a seat by Homer's side. "So… what are we talking about this month? Oh… who's this?"
"It's Bill. Apparently." Genghis Khan shrugged. "He didn't conquer any land or cured any illness. I don't get it either."
"Okay… Bill never attends these meetings, guys," Shakespeare said. "Because he's not like us. He's the only ghost
that's lived over a thousand years without being famous. He doesn't feel at home. And… well, he's always afraid
that… *this* will happen." He nodded towards the girl Artemis again. "That he'll run into her."
"Will someone explain to me who the fuck that girl is, please!?" Gandhi, who always got like this after a few drinks,
uttered, slamming the table. He burped.
"Artemis is the great-great-great," Jack the Ripper paused for breath… "great-great… add several more greats
there… granddaughter of a French girl named Celine."
At the mention of this name, Bill hid his face between his hands and sniffed loudly.
"Celine was Bill's summer love in high school, like, a LOT of years ago," Shakespeare added, his voice wrapped around something like envy… like he wished he'd himself have written the love story they were telling Khan.
"And things didn't really work out between them," Socrates said. "Celine had to move back to France, she was
staying in the USA for the summer only."
"What the fuck is a USA?" Genghis asked.
"Okay, I take offense in that," Christopher Columbus said, returning from the bathroom and pulling up a chair. "I told you about the New World already like a thousand times, Genghis."
"The point is…" Shakespeare continued, "Bill was never happy again. Couldn't get married. Could never find a girl like Celine. She was... the one."
"Celine, however, did find a man back in Paris and started a family. You know, eventually."
"But apparently she never forgot Bill either…"
"Because she'd tell the story of her American summer love to her daughter every night…"
"... who thought the story was so beautiful she told it to *her* daughter…"
"... and so on and so forth…"
"… for fifteen thousand years…"
"… and hence why Bill can't die. The story is still going strong."
Silence took over the table. On the corner, they could see Artemis leaning forward, telling something to her date.
A story, perhaps.
"And the sad part is," Shakespeare said, in a low voice, "that since Bill never had a family…"
"… he had no one to tell the story to…"
"… and so Celine isn't alive anymore…"
"… because you have to be remembered by someone other than your family, naturally, otherwise the world would
be crawling with anonymous ghosts…"
"… so because he loved her so much that he could never find anyone else…"
"… and because their love story was so beautiful that it survived 15,000 years in Celine's family…"
Bill burped…
"… Bill's getting drunk now," Genghis Khan finished, understand at last. "Holy shit. That's heavy."
Bill got up. He cleaned his eyes. "I gotta pee," he said, slowly.
In her corner, Laika barked sadly and in Russian.
Bill dragged himself towards the bathroom. The ghost table watched him go, in silence. By the window, Artemis' date was saying, "Wow, that's such a beautiful story…"
Genghis would deny it later, but Michelangelo, who was sitting nearby, swear he heard an emotive sniff.
________
*For more stories where I subtly imply that Shakespeare would be envious of my writing skills, check out /r/psycho_alpaca =)* | |
[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 damn boy had found the book. Even worse, the exact *page* with his name.
"Put it down," he hissed, trying to summon the necessary rage to project his voice enough to reach the living boy's ear. "Do as I say, or suffer the consequences - you'll rue this day, I will - "
The child lifted his hand, idly smoothing his hair as he imagined a breeze passing through the room. Godammit. After so many millennia, he just didn't have the power anymore. He hadn't even been able to lift so much as a piece of paper or make one syllable heard for years now. Fading with every passing day, but never enough to simply wink out. No, he was doomed to roam the earth as little more than a wisp of smoke, drawn inevitably to the cursed books that carried his name.
"Rama Odah," the boy sounded out the syllables, and in an agony of pain and pleasure, he felt his identity shiver and strengthen, a blade of grass tasting water after a drought.
"Mom, what's this?" the boy asked the woman - Kelly, or something, if he remembered right - who suddenly swept into the study, distractedly looking for something she'd lost. Her 'cellphone', probably. The people of this age were somehow anchored to the things.
"Oh," Kelly said, a slight smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. "Nice one, Zack. You found the family heirloom. I wanted you to find it yourself, you know..."
Her voice bubbled with enthusiasm as she told the boy, not caring that she tied him to the Earth with each word, even though she scarcely believed half of her own story. The relic of a philosopher who had died thousands of years ago, leaving his library of work in the care of only his relatives. And each generation had passed it onto the next, not breathing a word to anyone outside the family of its contents.
"He was a great man," she said finally. "He had the most beautiful ideas about all sorts of things, centuries before his time. The nature of immortality, the afterlife, good and evil, the desire for power...there's a section of his work that seems to speculate on parallel universes, you know. Well, we've no idea how old this stuff really is. You'll see we made notes and possible translations of the terminology in the margins, throughout the years. Pretty neat, though, huh? You know, I remember my grandma telling me she thought the house might be haunted by the man. A story *her* mother told her. Haven't spotted him myself, though."
They both chuckled, though the boy's eyes widened at the tale.
"You're reading a copy of the original, of course," she added. "Read all of it, tell me what you think, and I might let you have a peek at the originals."
She dropped him a shadow of a wink and backed out of the room, as if she had to give him privacy for some monumental task.
Rama groaned to himself as the boy read with evident absorption, his name imprinting itself forever onto the kid's mind. Great. Another eighty-odd years of this life. The boy would likely pass the story on to his own children, too. He'd long ago accepted it as his punishment for daring to speculate on the nature of life after death. Of course, he'd seen the other spirits - clearly, his punishment wasn't unique.
But his had to be one of the *longest*, all due to his arrogance in trying to ensure his name. It wouldn't have been so bad, if only they weren't so obsessed with the mystery of keeping his name a secret, even amongst themselves. Oh, they thought of him, sometimes. But they didn't share his ideas, didn't *really* talk about him. He was a kooky relic to pass on from one generation to the next, like a dusty ring on a shelf, not a topic of conversation at dinner.
He didn't even have that much fame in the shadow of life he could claim as his own.
Rama watched morosely as the boy sank down in front of the curious thing he called his 'computer', fingers flying over the keys on the desk. Probably to play one of his accursed video games. Zack had already *mostly* forgotten about him, shelving him into a little corner of his mind that would, nevertheless, sustain him for decades more of life. Damn him. Damn them all to hell, if it existed. How would he even know.
Hours later, Rama felt himself jerked into wakefulness. He hadn't slept, of course, but he could fade away into a murkiness that resembled most closely the release he sought. But he was *awake*, more alive than he had felt in centuries.
"What?" he croaked, and he saw the boy jump and whip his head around, his face pale and pinched in the dark room. He seemed unnerved. Rama almost felt like his heart was racing, if he still had one. His name was being repeated.
Once, twice. A *dozen* times.
He drifted closer to the boy, and read over his shoulder. A strange glowing page carried the legend "Philosophers Den - welcome to our corner of the web". Somehow, it was reaffirming him - his name was being called. He read the comments with growing amazement. They were popping up every now and then, seemingly from nowhere.
*An heirloom, did you say? What is the guy's name? I can't really make out the handwriting...*
*Rama Odah, I think,* another said. *This is pretty cool stuff, man. The language seems right for the period, at least, this could be a major discovery. Can you scan the rest of the pages tomorrow?*
The boy - Zack, Rama remembered with sudden clarity - turned his attention to the screen again, and typed a response.
*Sure thing. I don't know why my family hid this from the world for so long, but I'd like to change things*. Shortly after, Zack yawned and made his way to bed.
Rama stood staring at the screen long after it had gone dark, long after Zack's breathing dropped into the deep rhythm of sleep.
He trembled as he moved his hand forward, and pressed the power button, summoning every atom of energy buzzing through his being. He could hardly believe his eyes as it hummed to life.
The blessed boy - his *descendant*, after all - had found the key to life after death. At last.
-----------
[Part Two](https://www.reddit.com/r/Inkfinger/comments/6jr72k/part_two_when_you_die_your_ghost_remains_in_the/)
[Part Three](https://www.reddit.com/r/Inkfinger/comments/6jt0va/part_three_when_you_die_your_ghost_remains_in_the/)
[Part Four/Conclusion](https://www.reddit.com/r/Inkfinger/comments/6jz38r/part_four_when_you_die_your_ghost_remains_in_the/)
Hope you enjoyed my story! You can find more of my work on /r/Inkfinger/. | I looked down at the corpse of the man that I had haunted for the last two decades.
“Into the ground you go,” I muttered as the first shovel of mud rained down on the sleek top of the casket.
“I suppose you’re right,” said the ghost of the man.
It was always a bit uncomfortable when your hauntee confronted you after their death. Some were mad, others were… well, they wanted revenge. But if you’ve been in the business as long as I have, little spooks you anymore.
“Are you upset about the steps in the attic at night?” I asked him.
He smiled and crossed his spectral arms. “Not, in the slightest.”
“What about when I moved stuff around in your house?”
“That was mildly inconvenient at times.”
I pursed my lips. “So the last twenty years were a complete waste…”
“That’s not true,” the man said. “Do you see that fellow over there by my headstone?”
“Sure.”
“I didn’t have many friends in life, and when Jukka dies, I’ll be gone forever. I appreciated you keeping me company all those years; I was quite lonely.”
“No problem, I guess.”
“Good luck,” he said.
And with that, the ghost of the man drifted over to Jukka and took a seat in the grass. I sighed. For the last few thousand years, I had been searching far and wide for the person who still remembered me. I had of course given up. The system was broken somehow – it had to be!
I left the graveyard and the tall pines of Finland. I needed a change of setting. That’s one of the few perks of being a ghost – you can go anywhere you like in the blink of an eye.
Soon the hot sands of Sahara whipped through my ethereal body. I drifted east. Maybe it was time to visit Egypt again. It had been a good five centuries since last time. The pyramids reminded me of home. Granted, your memory does get a bit fuzzy with the years, but I remember that we had structures just like those when I was alive.
I drifted through Giza and made people in the streets shudder despite the heat. The pyramids had been full of ghosts for several centuries after the Pharaohs died – we’d had some great conversations back in the day.
I slipped through the wall and entered one of the deepest burial chambers. Judging from the untouched dust, it was still sealed off and hadn’t been discovered yet by the archeologists.
“Tut,” I said, “You still around?”
The room remained quiet.
“You old fox, Tut!” I muttered. “You promised to tell me where you got the idea to build pyramids from…”
I ran my fingers over the sarcophagus. Tut had always been a pain when it came to information. He guarded it with his life… death, I should say. Anyway, what was the point? Between ghosts, you know, he could’ve told me. But no.
“I’m going to look inside your sarc…” I said with a sly grin, hoping to trigger a response.
When there was still no sign of him, I thought ‘what the hell’ and put my head through its side.
Once you’re a ghost you get used to seeing death, so his dusty old bones didn’t rattle me in the slightest.
“What have we here… “
Just a bunch of withered clothes, jewels, and weapons. I was just about to poke the old geezer in the nose hole when I noticed a bundle that his skeletal arm was clutching.
“Huh, weird.”
Usually, the arms were mummified too, but this one had been purposely left to decay so that he could hold onto the object.
“What's this?” I unfolded the cloth.
A metal ball rolled out of his dead fingers. It had a creasing wave and big A stylishly engraved on it. I remembered the design from somewhere. But where?
“Raphael,” the ball said. “It is good to see you again.”
It took a moment for me to realize that it was talking to me. It had been a few millennia since I last heard my name.
“Uhm, hi?”
“Would you like to run a system check?”
“What?”
“It’s been 15122 years since the last service update.”
The voice sounded familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. Where had I last heard it? It was formal, almost haughty. Ancient Rome perhaps? Maybe the Dark Ages?
“How do you know my name?”
“You built me, Raphael.”
“Did I, now?”
“After your wife died, you built me. You wanted to insert her memories in me so that you could remember her. Of course, you died before you had the time to do so. I’m still an empty shell, but I remember you because you built me.”
“I guess I have some vague memory of that.”
“Would you like to insert your wife’s memories now?”
I chuckled, despite myself. I didn’t even remember her face or the color of her hair.
“No,” I said. “That’s water under the bridge.”
“Would you like to insert any other memories?”
I thought for a moment. And then a smile crept up on my face.
“Yeah, mine.”
*****
Sarah wiped the sweat from her brow and pushed the massive block to the side.
“Oh my god!” she said and took a careful step into the grave chamber.
With the new permits, she had been allowed to uncover the last of the pyramid’s secret. She held the glyph-translator over the entrance.
*Here rests Pharaoh Ka-Nan Tut.*
“Guys, get in here!” she called out. "I think I've found a big one!"
*****
[Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/Lilwa_Dexel/comments/6jnw07/the_oldest_ghost_part_2/)
Check out /r/Lilwa_Dexel for more stories!
| |
[WP] It's lonely being stationed on a twilight dim outpost at the outer edge of a solar system. | The moon drifts through space, though unbeknownst to its only inhabitant. Gravity itself must eventually release its prey, especially this far from the sun of the system. In fact, it is only as big as a Tic-Tac now. Its light is dim, fading slowly.
The figure sits, arms wrapped around knees. He gazes longingly past Pluto, past Neptune, past Jupiter. He stares into the depths of the void, but it is too far. The canvas of splattered white dots stares back, and a tear traces its way down his cheek.
It has been so long since he was sent. The moon is an outpost, complete with supplies, but everything falls to time. It has been twelve billion years since the last contact with his kind. He stares onward, hoping to keep that flame blazing, burning.
Immortality comes with a price: loneliness. He never wanted to become immortal. Reality is cruel sometimes. His memories are more than memories, though. It connects to his soul. He blinks, the yellow light rippling in his tears. They are all he has left.
He thinks back to that day, and his promise:
"Billions of years later, when I sit upon a lonely moon, I will think of humanity. And I will never forget. Never."
***
*AUTHOR'S NOTE: /u/JimBobBoBubba, this was exactly the prompt I was looking for. I had a dream this morning in where I had outlived humanity, and I was sitting there, enchanted with the sun. That last line is literally from the dream. This was an excellent Mod's Choice!*
Hey readers if you like Marvel superheroes and are looking for more reading material, come check us out at [MARVEL's Non-Canon Universe](http://www.reddit.com/r/MarvelsNCU/)! | Bright Line Systems. “Bright Line” in text above, red and small. Meant to evoke a laser I think. Systems in green, the S two big arrows circling the word. What a lovely logo.
A lovely logo to stamp on the meal packages.
A lovely logo to stamp on the food heating unit.
A lovely logo to stamp on the spacesuit.
A lovely logo to stamp on the breast pocket of the shirts.
A lovely logo to stamp the fuel pods.
A lovely logo to stamp on the side of the toilet.
A lovely, lovely logo indeed.
You know, my old rabbi told me that Jews don’t pray alone. We make minyans, which are groups of at least 10, without whom we cannot properly pray. Sure you can marvel at the wonder of the galaxy or ask the lord to save you from a life of branded corporate monotony, but to properly do things like mourn it takes 10.
I try to do some back of the napkin math, sticking a “Bright Line” meatloaf dinner in the heating unit and pressing the one button on the machine. Earth is almost 10,000 Astronomical Units away. I know for a fact there are Jews on Earth. The asteroid belt is dense with mining operations, so probably Jews there too, probably even near the helium collections of Jupiter and the forward bases on the moons of Saturn. But as far as the Oort Cloud? Only two of those outfits stray as far as this absurd locale. There probably are not one thousand people for 5,000 AUs in any direction. I place a dollar on the table. If there is one single Jewish man or woman within 5,000 AUs, I bet myself, I’ll give myself a dollar. That dollar is stacked on top of about 50 others—bets I made with myself over football records and the ingredients in ratatouille and how girls from my past would look when I returned and the dollar I bet myself I could choke down a “Bright Line” meatloaf dinner without reheating it (I admit I threw out the last bite because I did not want to admit I could stomach it).
The “Bright Line” heating unit announces that the “Bring Line” meatloaf dinner is finished. I peel back the foil lid, allowing the steam pouring out to fog up my glasses, and drop the metal into the thin “Bright Line” recycling chute, purpose made to fit nothing except for “Bright Line” disposable meals and their implements. Grainy lab-grown meat and grainy potatoes and grainy carrots. At least it’s hot and I can chew it. I hear in the old days astronauts drank their meals from a tube.
I just sit for an hour, eating slowly and savoring the increasingly coagulated potato side. I purposely count the seconds between bites and then mush them against my palate to detect exactly how their consistency changes.
Living this far out kills impulse. Nothing can be done on impulse. Communications, with the relays and censoring, take a week to go back and forth. Data requests can take a month or more, and for entertainment purposes are uniformly denied as a waste of company resources. There is one materials requisition which will arrive in two years and it was packaged up and blasted off before I was born. But here I am, having an impulse.
I really want to pray.
I sift through my “Bright Line” duffel bag first, knowing full well that I packed nothing. No siddur. No tallis. No yarmulke. The last time I used any of those things was—god, Kitty’s wedding; I paid for the cake and the invitations for that thing because Bright Line gave me an advance and I figured that if I came back I’d be too old of a man to have a wedding myself. Did I even go to Kitty’s service, or was that Cassie’s? Yes it must be Cassie’s wedding when I prayed last because I got roaring drunk at the open bar afterwards and was not allowed to help lift the groom in the chair because I could hardly lift myself out of my own. I was definitely broke that wedding.
Now my impulse suddenly becomes twofold, pray and contact my sisters. Hell, my parents too. I feel a sudden frenzy. I key in the code for a transmit request and then practically shout into the speaker that “I wish to speak with my sister and her parents, who are my parents as well of course, and my other sister”. I pace back and forth, thinking about how to pray. I look on my tablet but all that is loaded up is books I have read many times over and some pornography. I throw that on my cot and walk back across the room and sit down the same place I had eaten. I fidget with the tin which one held dinner. I go back to the tablet, swiping through the manuals for the mining pods I am supposed to service. When I see a text that stands out to me I click on it and then stop dead.
King James Bible.
I practically throw the tablet against the wall of the ship. I scream to nothing and nobody in particular, just a great primal yell, and I curse my own stupidity—why did I skip high holiday services, why did I fool around in Hebrew School, why did I forsake God because surely there’s a direct line between that and God forsaking me here and now, in my time of need, when I really want to do something right this minute and I can’t—and I curse and curse and I curse at Kitty and Cassie for good measure and I think back to my old Rabbi, Rabbi Tom, I don’t even remember his last name, who said that Jews pray in groups and I realize that even if I wanted to pray I couldn’t pray right and with that thought I sit very still on the edge on my cot.
Bleak silence. My breathing slows. I stare at the “Bright Line” logo stamped on the first aid kit on the wall. A lovely, lovely logo indeed. | |
[WP] It's lonely being stationed on a twilight dim outpost at the outer edge of a solar system. | The moon drifts through space, though unbeknownst to its only inhabitant. Gravity itself must eventually release its prey, especially this far from the sun of the system. In fact, it is only as big as a Tic-Tac now. Its light is dim, fading slowly.
The figure sits, arms wrapped around knees. He gazes longingly past Pluto, past Neptune, past Jupiter. He stares into the depths of the void, but it is too far. The canvas of splattered white dots stares back, and a tear traces its way down his cheek.
It has been so long since he was sent. The moon is an outpost, complete with supplies, but everything falls to time. It has been twelve billion years since the last contact with his kind. He stares onward, hoping to keep that flame blazing, burning.
Immortality comes with a price: loneliness. He never wanted to become immortal. Reality is cruel sometimes. His memories are more than memories, though. It connects to his soul. He blinks, the yellow light rippling in his tears. They are all he has left.
He thinks back to that day, and his promise:
"Billions of years later, when I sit upon a lonely moon, I will think of humanity. And I will never forget. Never."
***
*AUTHOR'S NOTE: /u/JimBobBoBubba, this was exactly the prompt I was looking for. I had a dream this morning in where I had outlived humanity, and I was sitting there, enchanted with the sun. That last line is literally from the dream. This was an excellent Mod's Choice!*
Hey readers if you like Marvel superheroes and are looking for more reading material, come check us out at [MARVEL's Non-Canon Universe](http://www.reddit.com/r/MarvelsNCU/)! | Desolate.
I've been here almost a decade, and I just now landed on the perfect word for it.
Desolate.
"Deserted of people and in a state of bleak and dismal emptiness."
That's the definition out of the dictionary. It's oddly poetic, though, isn't it? It's weird to think of the dictionary being poetic. I wonder who wrote the definition. It must be hard to write a dictionary; I mean, for instance, I know what poetic means, but I couldn't put it into words; but the dictionary says, "having an imaginative or sensitively emotional style of expression." That's great, isn't it? Just great. It's perfect. That's exactly the image that comes into my head when I hear the word.
I sound insane. The dictionary is possibly the least poetic thing in the galaxy. Actually, I've been to a few different planets and asteroids in my time, and so far I can attest that it's pretty darn close.
adjective: desolate
verb: desolate; 3rd person present: desolates; past tense: desolated; past participle: desolated; gerund or present participle: desolating
That's it. This planet is desolate. I do everything desolately.
I am desolate.
It's lonely being stationed on a dim outpost on the outer edge of the solar system.
I'm right out past Pluto. It takes 9.5 years to get to Pluto, it takes 10.5 to get to me.
I have books and TV and music, I have lots of that. I even have a dictionary. But you'd think that I could have another person here, too. I don't care who it is. Even if I don't particularly like them, it would be nice to have another person here. I wouldn't object if they started sending prison inmates, honestly. Maybe at the beginning but not now.
Every 3 years, someone flies by with supplies. That's always the best. It'll be another year before they come by again, before I can talk to someone again. I've been counting the days down for two years.
I don't even completely know why I'm out here. I maintain things and update the computer systems when necessary, but you'd think a computer would be able to do that. You'd think.
I think I'm going to send out a request to go back to Earth, maybe I can even go back on the next supply ship. I miss Earth.
On Earth, you could look out the window and see trees and grass and animals; or, streets and buildings and people. But, either way, there was life.
I look outside now and all I see is machinery and a barren asteroid, deserted of people and in a state of bleak and dismal emptiness.
--------
Does this seem too ramble-y? I kind of feel like it's not so much a story as it is someone's boring and disconnected thoughts, someone who you don't really care about thinking about things that you don't really care about, but I can't really tell. Also, the pacing feels weird. | |
[WP] A superhero is fed up with how reliant his city has become on him for every little thing, so he takes a vacation. Upon his return, he discovers that the city is now completely free of crime... and that there's a $1,000,000 bounty on his head. | “Justice is just another person’s view on what is right”
The world according to the people who rule us, is nothing like the way the world should be. I know this more than those who were voted into positions of power. Yet it is they who now hunt me down, treating me like nothing more than a common criminal. It’s pathetic how they just keep trying to capture me. Me who not more than a month ago was protecting their city.
A month ago…
“Spiral!” I heard the scream come from across the street, I was currently walking around as my secret identity. But I knew that I needed to help these people out. Quickly I ran to the aid of the woman, barely recognizable as nothing more than a blur. I grabbed the purse snatcher, returned the purse, and resumed on my way.
“A robbery in progress, please all units respond, subject is armed and extremely dangerous” the radio chatter goes on to describe the suspect. I slip down the alley intersecting the markets and the business district. My street clothes neatly packed away into my pack. I race toward the bank which took around ten seconds thanks to my gift of speed. Within the time frame I also checked to ensure the subject was still inside.
A loud noise rings from the bank, the subject had fired his gun. “Great...” I mumbled under my breath. The moment a gun goes off all the officers become enraged and tend to make stupid decisions. Now having less time than desired I went into hyper mode. Step one was the simplest of all, make sure any all hostages were rescued. As simple as it was, it was annoyingly hard, depending on the day I would have to rescue anywhere between sixty to hundred men, women, and children.
With the hostages rescued, it was time to take care of the subject. I stand before the man hand in the air. “Who the fuck are you!” the man shouts at me. His gun quivering, his nerves were clearly frayed. This meant that more than likely tonight I was going to get shot. I hated getting shot, it was annoyingly inconvenient. “Answer me asshole!”
“I’m Spiral, hero of this city” I reply in the most calming voice that I was able to manage. Hands still in the air as I calmly approach the subject. “Is there any chance of this ending without me getting shot?” my voice remaining calm as I continue to approach him. Within this range, the chances of being shot were almost completely gone. Which for me was good, but that didn’t make the situation any less frustrating. In fact, at this distance I could disarm the subject, and subdue him within a matter of moments. However, due the police officers placing more stringent restrictions on what I was able to do. I could only at best disarm the man and call for back-up.
“I told you my name, would be so kind as to tell me your name?” I ask standing my ground at this point. “Jimmy, my name is Jimmy” he replies placing both hands on his gun. This man was going to shoot me at any moment now unless I did something. “Well Jimmy, you know that you shouldn’t do this right?” my voice calming and soothing as I check to make sure that he wasn’t going to do anything stupid at this point.
“I needed the money, the bank was foreclosing on my home, and my wife just left me. I ran out of options, there wasn’t anything else that I could do!” the man falls down in tears in front of me. “I didn’t even want to take these hostages. I knew most of them, some were even my friends” he just falls apart at the seams at this point. I walk in front of him and sit by his side.
“I get it man, here just hand me that gun and we’ll both just walk out of here unharmed.” I extend my hand to accept the gun. Jimmy places the gun in my hand. I toss it away from the two of us. “That’s a good guy Jimmy. Now let’s just walk out of here” he nods glumly as we both just walk out of the bank. I hand him over to the police.
“You brained the guy didn’t you!” the captain yells at me. “I told you before! You can’t just go around fucking with peoples free will!” he was red in the face screaming about how it was wrong for me to do such things. How human’s had freedom to do what they wanted. That if I wasn’t so useful to the city they would just treat me like a criminal.
“Fine, you think your way is so much better than mine. Do it your way!” I shout and slam the captains door behind me. Little did I know that doing so pretty much just signed my own bounty. But then again hindsight it twenty-twenty.
Current time…
“We found him!” the officers who were pursuing me shouted to the gang of city-folk who were following them. They all ganged up on me, as I was currently cornered by a group of money crazed civilians who were just after a quick buck. Unfortunately for me, I can only control one person at a time. Making this situation less than ideal.
“Hey guys, let’s just talk this over.” I say quietly trying to set up a situation in which I could easily escape. No such luck, oh well I’ll see what happens after this. I already knew about bounty on my head. It was plastered on every single news outlet, post office, bounty board, and newspaper.
“Spiral, you are charged with robbing men of free will, obstruction of justice, robbery, destruction of property, vigilantism, and murder. How do you plea?” the man who was my judge asks pointing the gavel at me.
“I plead guilty, this way I can just get away from this cesspool” I quip and just walk away from the courtroom. A guard reaches to stop me from walking out. I look into his eyes wondering why these guys weren’t wearing reflective goggles. “You want to let me go, and you want to stop anyone from pursuing me” the man salutes me and stands guard behind me.
“You guys think I’m a bad guy, fine then. I’ll usurp your alleged utopia. I’ll reveal the darkness in your hearts. I’ll become your worst nightmare. You thought I was dangerous as a protector? You’ll all hate me now as the villain of your stories.”
| A broken hero knelt in the ashes of a ruined city.
The Saviour fell among the bones of his people, and wept for the death of his home. They had worshiped him; he, who vanquished evil and shielded them from every possible harm; and he had scorned them. Their praise broke upon tired ears, and his arms wearied of holding up the weight of a sky filled with darkness. And, when he could stand no more of their empty words and vapid praise, he faltered. *Surely,* he thought. *Surely I can take just a moment to rest. Surely they will last without me. They have watched* me *fight, they should know enough to survive.*
He was wrong. In the moment their Saviour abandoned them, let the weight of the world's darkness crash down upon them, they held for only an instant of fearful anticipation. For he had watched over them for so long, he had forgotten how much time meant to them, and his momentary rest was, for those small ones, a thousand years of darkness, pain, and fear.
His pain blotted out the world for a time, and over centuries the Saviour was forgotten; replaced by stories of a demon known as the Cataclysm, who devoured an ages-old city in a single night. They told of a city whose streets mourned the feet that once walked them, and an ever-hungry monster who tears to the soul itself. Treasures were offered; gold beyond measure for the one to slay the beast. Many sought, but all were turned aside by the bitterness which saturated the very air, driving even the bravest to despair until they made their way from that black land.
And still the Saviour wept in the ashes of a ruined city. | |
[WP] A superhero is fed up with how reliant his city has become on him for every little thing, so he takes a vacation. Upon his return, he discovers that the city is now completely free of crime... and that there's a $1,000,000 bounty on his head. | I always knew this city was full of idiots, but I never expected them to do something *this* stupid. I'd hoped they'd learn a little independence in my absence, but this? This is wide-scale rebellion. Apparently there's been a temporary drop in crime rate - okay, a 100% drop in crime rates - and they've decided that makes *me* a criminal. Bastards.
Guess no one remembers what life was like before I started this gig eight years ago. We had black kids getting shot for carrying a squirt gun and Fentanyl junkies dying on park benches because no one dared to check if they were breathing. Enter the Illusionist and all that shit took a pretty dramatic downturn. Turns out the threat of a one-way trip on the crazy train is fairly decent at disincentivizing shitty behaviour. Here's the thing, though: the real criminals didn't *stop*, they just moved out of town. I call this Illusion #1.
Illusion #2 is that I *may* or may not have been forced to conduct some mock battles with "supervillains" to stay relevant. You know how the fights got more and more theatrical yet surprisingly nothing ever got destroyed? Yeah, I can't fly. I can't even make an invisible jet. Any sensible human being would have realized that the supervillains only showed up during dramatic sky duels, but like I said, this city is full of idiots.
Now I see you've got a bounty posted. $1,000,000? Really? You couldn't have sent any of that my way when I was saving you from yourselves? Well, I wish you luck in your search for a chiselled 30-something white dude with super powers. The Illusionist is on hiatus for the foreseeable future. Let me know when you all get disillusioned with Utopia. | A broken hero knelt in the ashes of a ruined city.
The Saviour fell among the bones of his people, and wept for the death of his home. They had worshiped him; he, who vanquished evil and shielded them from every possible harm; and he had scorned them. Their praise broke upon tired ears, and his arms wearied of holding up the weight of a sky filled with darkness. And, when he could stand no more of their empty words and vapid praise, he faltered. *Surely,* he thought. *Surely I can take just a moment to rest. Surely they will last without me. They have watched* me *fight, they should know enough to survive.*
He was wrong. In the moment their Saviour abandoned them, let the weight of the world's darkness crash down upon them, they held for only an instant of fearful anticipation. For he had watched over them for so long, he had forgotten how much time meant to them, and his momentary rest was, for those small ones, a thousand years of darkness, pain, and fear.
His pain blotted out the world for a time, and over centuries the Saviour was forgotten; replaced by stories of a demon known as the Cataclysm, who devoured an ages-old city in a single night. They told of a city whose streets mourned the feet that once walked them, and an ever-hungry monster who tears to the soul itself. Treasures were offered; gold beyond measure for the one to slay the beast. Many sought, but all were turned aside by the bitterness which saturated the very air, driving even the bravest to despair until they made their way from that black land.
And still the Saviour wept in the ashes of a ruined city. | |
[WP] A superhero is fed up with how reliant his city has become on him for every little thing, so he takes a vacation. Upon his return, he discovers that the city is now completely free of crime... and that there's a $1,000,000 bounty on his head. | Life as a Superhero had it’s perks, that’s undeniable. I mean, you end up being revered, loved, respected and above all, idolized. It made my desire for heroics, and my determination to be a foundation for others to stand on all the more prominent.
Reinforced, to a degree. It made my life as a hero pretty amazing. But, all good things do come to an end, so I learned. It didn’t take long for my overzealous demeanour and behaviour to leave the city I patrolled complacent.
They grew needy, and although I loved to a be a hero, I definitely didn’t sign up to be a babysitter. It was only a matter of years before they’ve came to me for answers, for solutions. Results were the expectation, the demanded, not the miracle. My very presence became the very thing that brought my downfall. I went from revered to expected. From loved to expected. From respected and idolized to EXPECTED.
All of my effort, my ethics, my morals and determination were snuffed out by the flames of normalcy. I wasn’t a hero, I was a glorified traffic officer. My deeds and exploits reflected that. From taking on global threats, from destructive means of ending life to finding lost pets and actually REGULATING TRAFFIC.
I needed a break, I wasn’t being compensated accordingly, I wasn’t even being compensated to begin with! A vacation was in order, I simply couldn’t take it anymore. My talents, my power to manipulate light and shadows was for crime fighting, it wasn’t supposed to be used to entertain children at puppet shows!
It was with a relatively guilt-free heart that I left Water Way City. Their dependency on me needed to end. The police needed to do their job and I needed to catch up with some cute Californian girls.
~o~o~o~
My name, or rather, my secret identity is Vincent DeRomes. I like to think myself attractive and athletic, dashingly smart, and with wits unmatched. My hero name, is Eclipse. He's attractive and athletic, really smart, but above all else has mastered the facade of noble duty.
I’ll be the first to admit that my reasons for heroics are…. selfish, Completely and utterly for self-gain The moment I realized I could manipulate both light and shade, I had only one destined path for me.
To get chicks, respect and lots of money.
Granted, that kind of path resembled more of a drug lord’s or some freshman frat boy’s than a hero’s. So why heroics? Well, It was really all a freak accident.
I just happened to be at the right place at the right time. A mugging in which I was earshot from. I heard the pleas for help, the shrill tone of a young woman’s voice was more than enough to make me spring into action. Granted, by the time I even realized who I was slapping silly, I’ve already been given the label of some hero.
I suppose I should thank my hoodie for keeping it all a secret. Let me tell you, that I was pretty darn surprised to hear the woman’s interview later on tv. She described me as a knight in armor.
Or something like ‘frail skinny kid’, the details on that are a bit vague. I did get an urge to hit the gym more often. I’m sure it’s unrelated.
Anywho, that sums up my origin. My powers were given to me by someone, but those details are kept top secret. I became a hero accidentally, and ultimately did it as a hobby.
Hence the lack of compensation. Nevertheless, I did think the kindness and gratitude I received at first from the civilians as enough. It was until I wasn’t even receiving that that I decided it best to call it quits, or take a ‘break’ of sorts.
Let me tell you, the beaches in California are indeed as good as the commercials make them out to be. I didn’t know how to surf, but the board and my shades- not to mention, body sold the idea.
The ladies…. Well, the details are also top secret. Let me just say the commercials weren’t wrong about them either and leave it at that.
After a few months of straight relaxation. I figured it best to go back to Water Way. I mean, in my time patrolling there, I’ve managed to pick up a few nemesis’ who may or may not want to use the whole city and it’s people as leverage over me.
And despite myself, I still longed for the respect I used to get at first. The idolization that’s nothing more but a faded memory. How much I’ve wanted it to return. I guess, in a way, my origin is also deeply enrooted in that city.
Too much of me, as Vincent, as well as Eclipse are embedded in that place. So, for better or for worse, It didn’t take me much time to want to return.
It’s funny, really. Ever went somewhere, haven’t been for a while and return just to think to yourself: “Wow, everything’s different now?’
It’s funny, really, I mean everything, and when I say everything, I don’t actually mean everything, more like the general themes and vibes about the city are different. The once humble city, bustled with night life.
The police for once seemed competent, if the fourth time I’ve been stopped for ‘suspicious’ actions are anything to go by. And the people seem to have all but forgotten me. That didn’t sit too well with me, but I suppose it’s for the best.
That way, when I make my return, people won’t feel to jarred or expectant of me again. I mean, in the few months that I’ve been gone, Water Way has never looked so good. That… that also didn't sit too well with me either.
I mean, was I so easily replaced? Forgotten? I was their guardian, their puppet. I basically served their every whimsical desire like some loyal dog!? And this was my reward? It felt like a kick to the face. Then someone proceeded to gut me, then run me over with a car, then thrown in the river with cement shoes on.
It sucked, I promised I didn’t cry… a lot. Eclipse, the hero was no more. With his disappearance, his reputation, and remaining admiration left with him. Not gonna lie, it made my desire to become a hero again waver.
“Excuse me sir,” I asked, nudging the nearest pedestrian I could find.
“Hmm, yes boy?” The elderly man responded, folding his newspaper as he looked at me.
“Yeah, didn’t this place used to have a hero?” I asked, I wanted to feign ignorance, gain knowledge from an objective perspective.
I failed to notice how the man’s eyes hardened like concrete, his wrinkly jaw clenched shut, “No, he was nothing more than a tyrannical idiot,”
I did a spit take, which without anything to spit out made me look more like a normal idiot than tyrannical one.
‘W-what do you mean?”
“See for yourself,” The man said, handing me the newspaper.
My knuckles went white, and the sheets ripped before me, The main headline, the only headline I noticed, the only one that mattered, said: Eclipse, The Villain, Bounty $1,000,000 Dead or Alive.
“T-thanks,” I choked out, tossing the paper towards the man, he fumbled with the wrinkled form.
I marched away, I didn’t have a destination, I just wanted to leave, clear my head. The chilled air from an autumn night helped in that regard, at the very least it cooled me down. Slightly.
A villain? A villain? VILLAIN? Oh, how far have I fallen? I looked up to the sky. The shining stars looked so condescending from down here. I smirked, figured.
Give them an inch, they demand a mile. I saw it as pathetic, and unjust. But society needed a scapegoat, I supposed that meant me.
Sure, I could have rationalized it, I mean, for me to be labelled as a villain after doing nothing of villainous merit only could imply a set-up. It was the perfect foundation for a redemption story.
I hated those kind of stories. If they wanted me as a villain. Then.
Who.
Am.
I.
To.
Argue?
| A broken hero knelt in the ashes of a ruined city.
The Saviour fell among the bones of his people, and wept for the death of his home. They had worshiped him; he, who vanquished evil and shielded them from every possible harm; and he had scorned them. Their praise broke upon tired ears, and his arms wearied of holding up the weight of a sky filled with darkness. And, when he could stand no more of their empty words and vapid praise, he faltered. *Surely,* he thought. *Surely I can take just a moment to rest. Surely they will last without me. They have watched* me *fight, they should know enough to survive.*
He was wrong. In the moment their Saviour abandoned them, let the weight of the world's darkness crash down upon them, they held for only an instant of fearful anticipation. For he had watched over them for so long, he had forgotten how much time meant to them, and his momentary rest was, for those small ones, a thousand years of darkness, pain, and fear.
His pain blotted out the world for a time, and over centuries the Saviour was forgotten; replaced by stories of a demon known as the Cataclysm, who devoured an ages-old city in a single night. They told of a city whose streets mourned the feet that once walked them, and an ever-hungry monster who tears to the soul itself. Treasures were offered; gold beyond measure for the one to slay the beast. Many sought, but all were turned aside by the bitterness which saturated the very air, driving even the bravest to despair until they made their way from that black land.
And still the Saviour wept in the ashes of a ruined city. | |
[WP] A superhero is fed up with how reliant his city has become on him for every little thing, so he takes a vacation. Upon his return, he discovers that the city is now completely free of crime... and that there's a $1,000,000 bounty on his head. | “Justice is just another person’s view on what is right”
The world according to the people who rule us, is nothing like the way the world should be. I know this more than those who were voted into positions of power. Yet it is they who now hunt me down, treating me like nothing more than a common criminal. It’s pathetic how they just keep trying to capture me. Me who not more than a month ago was protecting their city.
A month ago…
“Spiral!” I heard the scream come from across the street, I was currently walking around as my secret identity. But I knew that I needed to help these people out. Quickly I ran to the aid of the woman, barely recognizable as nothing more than a blur. I grabbed the purse snatcher, returned the purse, and resumed on my way.
“A robbery in progress, please all units respond, subject is armed and extremely dangerous” the radio chatter goes on to describe the suspect. I slip down the alley intersecting the markets and the business district. My street clothes neatly packed away into my pack. I race toward the bank which took around ten seconds thanks to my gift of speed. Within the time frame I also checked to ensure the subject was still inside.
A loud noise rings from the bank, the subject had fired his gun. “Great...” I mumbled under my breath. The moment a gun goes off all the officers become enraged and tend to make stupid decisions. Now having less time than desired I went into hyper mode. Step one was the simplest of all, make sure any all hostages were rescued. As simple as it was, it was annoyingly hard, depending on the day I would have to rescue anywhere between sixty to hundred men, women, and children.
With the hostages rescued, it was time to take care of the subject. I stand before the man hand in the air. “Who the fuck are you!” the man shouts at me. His gun quivering, his nerves were clearly frayed. This meant that more than likely tonight I was going to get shot. I hated getting shot, it was annoyingly inconvenient. “Answer me asshole!”
“I’m Spiral, hero of this city” I reply in the most calming voice that I was able to manage. Hands still in the air as I calmly approach the subject. “Is there any chance of this ending without me getting shot?” my voice remaining calm as I continue to approach him. Within this range, the chances of being shot were almost completely gone. Which for me was good, but that didn’t make the situation any less frustrating. In fact, at this distance I could disarm the subject, and subdue him within a matter of moments. However, due the police officers placing more stringent restrictions on what I was able to do. I could only at best disarm the man and call for back-up.
“I told you my name, would be so kind as to tell me your name?” I ask standing my ground at this point. “Jimmy, my name is Jimmy” he replies placing both hands on his gun. This man was going to shoot me at any moment now unless I did something. “Well Jimmy, you know that you shouldn’t do this right?” my voice calming and soothing as I check to make sure that he wasn’t going to do anything stupid at this point.
“I needed the money, the bank was foreclosing on my home, and my wife just left me. I ran out of options, there wasn’t anything else that I could do!” the man falls down in tears in front of me. “I didn’t even want to take these hostages. I knew most of them, some were even my friends” he just falls apart at the seams at this point. I walk in front of him and sit by his side.
“I get it man, here just hand me that gun and we’ll both just walk out of here unharmed.” I extend my hand to accept the gun. Jimmy places the gun in my hand. I toss it away from the two of us. “That’s a good guy Jimmy. Now let’s just walk out of here” he nods glumly as we both just walk out of the bank. I hand him over to the police.
“You brained the guy didn’t you!” the captain yells at me. “I told you before! You can’t just go around fucking with peoples free will!” he was red in the face screaming about how it was wrong for me to do such things. How human’s had freedom to do what they wanted. That if I wasn’t so useful to the city they would just treat me like a criminal.
“Fine, you think your way is so much better than mine. Do it your way!” I shout and slam the captains door behind me. Little did I know that doing so pretty much just signed my own bounty. But then again hindsight it twenty-twenty.
Current time…
“We found him!” the officers who were pursuing me shouted to the gang of city-folk who were following them. They all ganged up on me, as I was currently cornered by a group of money crazed civilians who were just after a quick buck. Unfortunately for me, I can only control one person at a time. Making this situation less than ideal.
“Hey guys, let’s just talk this over.” I say quietly trying to set up a situation in which I could easily escape. No such luck, oh well I’ll see what happens after this. I already knew about bounty on my head. It was plastered on every single news outlet, post office, bounty board, and newspaper.
“Spiral, you are charged with robbing men of free will, obstruction of justice, robbery, destruction of property, vigilantism, and murder. How do you plea?” the man who was my judge asks pointing the gavel at me.
“I plead guilty, this way I can just get away from this cesspool” I quip and just walk away from the courtroom. A guard reaches to stop me from walking out. I look into his eyes wondering why these guys weren’t wearing reflective goggles. “You want to let me go, and you want to stop anyone from pursuing me” the man salutes me and stands guard behind me.
“You guys think I’m a bad guy, fine then. I’ll usurp your alleged utopia. I’ll reveal the darkness in your hearts. I’ll become your worst nightmare. You thought I was dangerous as a protector? You’ll all hate me now as the villain of your stories.”
| So I did it – finally! It got to the point where I knew I couldn’t handle it anymore. I needed to take some time off and do as the internet keeps saying – treat myself!
I’ve been working since high school. Picked up a part time job in the city to pay for some fun items, and spent the rest of my time working out and volunteering here and there to build usable skills. I eventually became more invested in my hobbies and the volunteer stuff and ended up just walking out of that first job. I figured, “hey, I’ve got a practical, unique skill set. I can use this to help out my city.” Went really truly full time (and them some) by 19.
So it’s been 10 years now. My body’s starting to feel it (turning 26 was a bitch), I can tell I need a bit of rehab.
But honestly though, if it was just my physical health, I could take just a week or two, get some nice massages, do some relaxed yoga or something, and come back good to go. I’ve taken a whole 6 months off. It really wasn’t just the physical stuff.
These past 10 years I’ve been volunteering (volunteering!) for the city, and the rewards of this job have just gone way downhill. When I started off I’d get a warm thank you from the people I worked with, I got some recognition from city council, I was even invited to speak at a couple high school graduations! As someone who had a hard time with some of the academic stuff I truly was touched to be honoured like that. But I don’t know, over time people take you for granted. After 5 years of service they gave me a small plaque, praising me over and over for the fact that crime rates were practically at zero, joking that I should take a much deserved rest. Now after 10 years, when crime is at an all time record low, with rates in the negative ten percents – nothing!
I mean come on! I know it’s not about the praise, or it shouldn’t be, but like, they’re still praising Wonder Boy from our sister city, and he’s been out of active service for 8 years now. It just makes it hard to stay motivated, to get up every morning and find new and interesting ways to stop criminals from destroying the city I love.
So I took a break. 6 months. Left the city, went out to stretch my wings in a different atmosphere. And maybe, maybe, come back with a renewed appreciation of my excellent work waiting for me from the city (maybe with a nice little belated 10 year anniversary party or something) when I return.
I’m looking forward to getting back into it. The vacation’s been great, but I’m curious to see if the city’s taken my anti-criminal measures and implemented any to use for themselves. I did mention that crime’s been at a negative percentage rate, right? That’s possible because I’ve been stopping crimes before they can happen. Planning on breaking into the back? Hard to do that with a broken hand! Thinking of selling some drugs to the school kids? Try growing pot when your house is on fire. Want to take revenge on your cheating partner? Well I’ve pre-empted that one a step further – no reason to cheat in the first place if you’ve got no sex drive!
This one was pretty creative, I don’t mind saying so myself. I concocted a mixture of hormones and other chemicals that completely and irreversibly wipes out any motivation towards sexual contact – and the best part is that it was easy to convert to a gaseous form and disperse throughout the entire city! It’s been my biggest success. This is really the reason I felt secure in leaving my beloved city alone over the last half of the year.
But no, now it’s time to head back. I know when I return the reward for me will finally be great!
Edit: a bit of spelling | |
[WP] A superhero is fed up with how reliant his city has become on him for every little thing, so he takes a vacation. Upon his return, he discovers that the city is now completely free of crime... and that there's a $1,000,000 bounty on his head. | Life as a Superhero had it’s perks, that’s undeniable. I mean, you end up being revered, loved, respected and above all, idolized. It made my desire for heroics, and my determination to be a foundation for others to stand on all the more prominent.
Reinforced, to a degree. It made my life as a hero pretty amazing. But, all good things do come to an end, so I learned. It didn’t take long for my overzealous demeanour and behaviour to leave the city I patrolled complacent.
They grew needy, and although I loved to a be a hero, I definitely didn’t sign up to be a babysitter. It was only a matter of years before they’ve came to me for answers, for solutions. Results were the expectation, the demanded, not the miracle. My very presence became the very thing that brought my downfall. I went from revered to expected. From loved to expected. From respected and idolized to EXPECTED.
All of my effort, my ethics, my morals and determination were snuffed out by the flames of normalcy. I wasn’t a hero, I was a glorified traffic officer. My deeds and exploits reflected that. From taking on global threats, from destructive means of ending life to finding lost pets and actually REGULATING TRAFFIC.
I needed a break, I wasn’t being compensated accordingly, I wasn’t even being compensated to begin with! A vacation was in order, I simply couldn’t take it anymore. My talents, my power to manipulate light and shadows was for crime fighting, it wasn’t supposed to be used to entertain children at puppet shows!
It was with a relatively guilt-free heart that I left Water Way City. Their dependency on me needed to end. The police needed to do their job and I needed to catch up with some cute Californian girls.
~o~o~o~
My name, or rather, my secret identity is Vincent DeRomes. I like to think myself attractive and athletic, dashingly smart, and with wits unmatched. My hero name, is Eclipse. He's attractive and athletic, really smart, but above all else has mastered the facade of noble duty.
I’ll be the first to admit that my reasons for heroics are…. selfish, Completely and utterly for self-gain The moment I realized I could manipulate both light and shade, I had only one destined path for me.
To get chicks, respect and lots of money.
Granted, that kind of path resembled more of a drug lord’s or some freshman frat boy’s than a hero’s. So why heroics? Well, It was really all a freak accident.
I just happened to be at the right place at the right time. A mugging in which I was earshot from. I heard the pleas for help, the shrill tone of a young woman’s voice was more than enough to make me spring into action. Granted, by the time I even realized who I was slapping silly, I’ve already been given the label of some hero.
I suppose I should thank my hoodie for keeping it all a secret. Let me tell you, that I was pretty darn surprised to hear the woman’s interview later on tv. She described me as a knight in armor.
Or something like ‘frail skinny kid’, the details on that are a bit vague. I did get an urge to hit the gym more often. I’m sure it’s unrelated.
Anywho, that sums up my origin. My powers were given to me by someone, but those details are kept top secret. I became a hero accidentally, and ultimately did it as a hobby.
Hence the lack of compensation. Nevertheless, I did think the kindness and gratitude I received at first from the civilians as enough. It was until I wasn’t even receiving that that I decided it best to call it quits, or take a ‘break’ of sorts.
Let me tell you, the beaches in California are indeed as good as the commercials make them out to be. I didn’t know how to surf, but the board and my shades- not to mention, body sold the idea.
The ladies…. Well, the details are also top secret. Let me just say the commercials weren’t wrong about them either and leave it at that.
After a few months of straight relaxation. I figured it best to go back to Water Way. I mean, in my time patrolling there, I’ve managed to pick up a few nemesis’ who may or may not want to use the whole city and it’s people as leverage over me.
And despite myself, I still longed for the respect I used to get at first. The idolization that’s nothing more but a faded memory. How much I’ve wanted it to return. I guess, in a way, my origin is also deeply enrooted in that city.
Too much of me, as Vincent, as well as Eclipse are embedded in that place. So, for better or for worse, It didn’t take me much time to want to return.
It’s funny, really. Ever went somewhere, haven’t been for a while and return just to think to yourself: “Wow, everything’s different now?’
It’s funny, really, I mean everything, and when I say everything, I don’t actually mean everything, more like the general themes and vibes about the city are different. The once humble city, bustled with night life.
The police for once seemed competent, if the fourth time I’ve been stopped for ‘suspicious’ actions are anything to go by. And the people seem to have all but forgotten me. That didn’t sit too well with me, but I suppose it’s for the best.
That way, when I make my return, people won’t feel to jarred or expectant of me again. I mean, in the few months that I’ve been gone, Water Way has never looked so good. That… that also didn't sit too well with me either.
I mean, was I so easily replaced? Forgotten? I was their guardian, their puppet. I basically served their every whimsical desire like some loyal dog!? And this was my reward? It felt like a kick to the face. Then someone proceeded to gut me, then run me over with a car, then thrown in the river with cement shoes on.
It sucked, I promised I didn’t cry… a lot. Eclipse, the hero was no more. With his disappearance, his reputation, and remaining admiration left with him. Not gonna lie, it made my desire to become a hero again waver.
“Excuse me sir,” I asked, nudging the nearest pedestrian I could find.
“Hmm, yes boy?” The elderly man responded, folding his newspaper as he looked at me.
“Yeah, didn’t this place used to have a hero?” I asked, I wanted to feign ignorance, gain knowledge from an objective perspective.
I failed to notice how the man’s eyes hardened like concrete, his wrinkly jaw clenched shut, “No, he was nothing more than a tyrannical idiot,”
I did a spit take, which without anything to spit out made me look more like a normal idiot than tyrannical one.
‘W-what do you mean?”
“See for yourself,” The man said, handing me the newspaper.
My knuckles went white, and the sheets ripped before me, The main headline, the only headline I noticed, the only one that mattered, said: Eclipse, The Villain, Bounty $1,000,000 Dead or Alive.
“T-thanks,” I choked out, tossing the paper towards the man, he fumbled with the wrinkled form.
I marched away, I didn’t have a destination, I just wanted to leave, clear my head. The chilled air from an autumn night helped in that regard, at the very least it cooled me down. Slightly.
A villain? A villain? VILLAIN? Oh, how far have I fallen? I looked up to the sky. The shining stars looked so condescending from down here. I smirked, figured.
Give them an inch, they demand a mile. I saw it as pathetic, and unjust. But society needed a scapegoat, I supposed that meant me.
Sure, I could have rationalized it, I mean, for me to be labelled as a villain after doing nothing of villainous merit only could imply a set-up. It was the perfect foundation for a redemption story.
I hated those kind of stories. If they wanted me as a villain. Then.
Who.
Am.
I.
To.
Argue?
| So I did it – finally! It got to the point where I knew I couldn’t handle it anymore. I needed to take some time off and do as the internet keeps saying – treat myself!
I’ve been working since high school. Picked up a part time job in the city to pay for some fun items, and spent the rest of my time working out and volunteering here and there to build usable skills. I eventually became more invested in my hobbies and the volunteer stuff and ended up just walking out of that first job. I figured, “hey, I’ve got a practical, unique skill set. I can use this to help out my city.” Went really truly full time (and them some) by 19.
So it’s been 10 years now. My body’s starting to feel it (turning 26 was a bitch), I can tell I need a bit of rehab.
But honestly though, if it was just my physical health, I could take just a week or two, get some nice massages, do some relaxed yoga or something, and come back good to go. I’ve taken a whole 6 months off. It really wasn’t just the physical stuff.
These past 10 years I’ve been volunteering (volunteering!) for the city, and the rewards of this job have just gone way downhill. When I started off I’d get a warm thank you from the people I worked with, I got some recognition from city council, I was even invited to speak at a couple high school graduations! As someone who had a hard time with some of the academic stuff I truly was touched to be honoured like that. But I don’t know, over time people take you for granted. After 5 years of service they gave me a small plaque, praising me over and over for the fact that crime rates were practically at zero, joking that I should take a much deserved rest. Now after 10 years, when crime is at an all time record low, with rates in the negative ten percents – nothing!
I mean come on! I know it’s not about the praise, or it shouldn’t be, but like, they’re still praising Wonder Boy from our sister city, and he’s been out of active service for 8 years now. It just makes it hard to stay motivated, to get up every morning and find new and interesting ways to stop criminals from destroying the city I love.
So I took a break. 6 months. Left the city, went out to stretch my wings in a different atmosphere. And maybe, maybe, come back with a renewed appreciation of my excellent work waiting for me from the city (maybe with a nice little belated 10 year anniversary party or something) when I return.
I’m looking forward to getting back into it. The vacation’s been great, but I’m curious to see if the city’s taken my anti-criminal measures and implemented any to use for themselves. I did mention that crime’s been at a negative percentage rate, right? That’s possible because I’ve been stopping crimes before they can happen. Planning on breaking into the back? Hard to do that with a broken hand! Thinking of selling some drugs to the school kids? Try growing pot when your house is on fire. Want to take revenge on your cheating partner? Well I’ve pre-empted that one a step further – no reason to cheat in the first place if you’ve got no sex drive!
This one was pretty creative, I don’t mind saying so myself. I concocted a mixture of hormones and other chemicals that completely and irreversibly wipes out any motivation towards sexual contact – and the best part is that it was easy to convert to a gaseous form and disperse throughout the entire city! It’s been my biggest success. This is really the reason I felt secure in leaving my beloved city alone over the last half of the year.
But no, now it’s time to head back. I know when I return the reward for me will finally be great!
Edit: a bit of spelling | |
[WP] A superhero is fed up with how reliant his city has become on him for every little thing, so he takes a vacation. Upon his return, he discovers that the city is now completely free of crime... and that there's a $1,000,000 bounty on his head. | “Justice is just another person’s view on what is right”
The world according to the people who rule us, is nothing like the way the world should be. I know this more than those who were voted into positions of power. Yet it is they who now hunt me down, treating me like nothing more than a common criminal. It’s pathetic how they just keep trying to capture me. Me who not more than a month ago was protecting their city.
A month ago…
“Spiral!” I heard the scream come from across the street, I was currently walking around as my secret identity. But I knew that I needed to help these people out. Quickly I ran to the aid of the woman, barely recognizable as nothing more than a blur. I grabbed the purse snatcher, returned the purse, and resumed on my way.
“A robbery in progress, please all units respond, subject is armed and extremely dangerous” the radio chatter goes on to describe the suspect. I slip down the alley intersecting the markets and the business district. My street clothes neatly packed away into my pack. I race toward the bank which took around ten seconds thanks to my gift of speed. Within the time frame I also checked to ensure the subject was still inside.
A loud noise rings from the bank, the subject had fired his gun. “Great...” I mumbled under my breath. The moment a gun goes off all the officers become enraged and tend to make stupid decisions. Now having less time than desired I went into hyper mode. Step one was the simplest of all, make sure any all hostages were rescued. As simple as it was, it was annoyingly hard, depending on the day I would have to rescue anywhere between sixty to hundred men, women, and children.
With the hostages rescued, it was time to take care of the subject. I stand before the man hand in the air. “Who the fuck are you!” the man shouts at me. His gun quivering, his nerves were clearly frayed. This meant that more than likely tonight I was going to get shot. I hated getting shot, it was annoyingly inconvenient. “Answer me asshole!”
“I’m Spiral, hero of this city” I reply in the most calming voice that I was able to manage. Hands still in the air as I calmly approach the subject. “Is there any chance of this ending without me getting shot?” my voice remaining calm as I continue to approach him. Within this range, the chances of being shot were almost completely gone. Which for me was good, but that didn’t make the situation any less frustrating. In fact, at this distance I could disarm the subject, and subdue him within a matter of moments. However, due the police officers placing more stringent restrictions on what I was able to do. I could only at best disarm the man and call for back-up.
“I told you my name, would be so kind as to tell me your name?” I ask standing my ground at this point. “Jimmy, my name is Jimmy” he replies placing both hands on his gun. This man was going to shoot me at any moment now unless I did something. “Well Jimmy, you know that you shouldn’t do this right?” my voice calming and soothing as I check to make sure that he wasn’t going to do anything stupid at this point.
“I needed the money, the bank was foreclosing on my home, and my wife just left me. I ran out of options, there wasn’t anything else that I could do!” the man falls down in tears in front of me. “I didn’t even want to take these hostages. I knew most of them, some were even my friends” he just falls apart at the seams at this point. I walk in front of him and sit by his side.
“I get it man, here just hand me that gun and we’ll both just walk out of here unharmed.” I extend my hand to accept the gun. Jimmy places the gun in my hand. I toss it away from the two of us. “That’s a good guy Jimmy. Now let’s just walk out of here” he nods glumly as we both just walk out of the bank. I hand him over to the police.
“You brained the guy didn’t you!” the captain yells at me. “I told you before! You can’t just go around fucking with peoples free will!” he was red in the face screaming about how it was wrong for me to do such things. How human’s had freedom to do what they wanted. That if I wasn’t so useful to the city they would just treat me like a criminal.
“Fine, you think your way is so much better than mine. Do it your way!” I shout and slam the captains door behind me. Little did I know that doing so pretty much just signed my own bounty. But then again hindsight it twenty-twenty.
Current time…
“We found him!” the officers who were pursuing me shouted to the gang of city-folk who were following them. They all ganged up on me, as I was currently cornered by a group of money crazed civilians who were just after a quick buck. Unfortunately for me, I can only control one person at a time. Making this situation less than ideal.
“Hey guys, let’s just talk this over.” I say quietly trying to set up a situation in which I could easily escape. No such luck, oh well I’ll see what happens after this. I already knew about bounty on my head. It was plastered on every single news outlet, post office, bounty board, and newspaper.
“Spiral, you are charged with robbing men of free will, obstruction of justice, robbery, destruction of property, vigilantism, and murder. How do you plea?” the man who was my judge asks pointing the gavel at me.
“I plead guilty, this way I can just get away from this cesspool” I quip and just walk away from the courtroom. A guard reaches to stop me from walking out. I look into his eyes wondering why these guys weren’t wearing reflective goggles. “You want to let me go, and you want to stop anyone from pursuing me” the man salutes me and stands guard behind me.
“You guys think I’m a bad guy, fine then. I’ll usurp your alleged utopia. I’ll reveal the darkness in your hearts. I’ll become your worst nightmare. You thought I was dangerous as a protector? You’ll all hate me now as the villain of your stories.”
| "What do you mean Titanicus has a bounty on his head?" asked Metropia's once-finest superhero. "Titanicus is the Champion of Man and Protector of this City! Titanicus has done everything possible to..."
Exhausted of his pretentious rating, Jaywalker Jared fired a 50-caliber bullet at Titanicus. As soon as the bullet made contact with his skin, the bullet shattered into inconceivable dust particles.
"Stop that," said Titanicus, waving off the dust cloud near his chest. He continued, "Titanicus has done everything possible to keep Metropia in top condition before his sabbatical. Why would there be a bounty on Titanicus' head? Are you sure this isn't the work of The Speed Demon or Propaganda Amanda?"
Frustrated with the super-dense skull of his adversary, Jaywalker Jared began to explain. "You created your own villains, Titanicus. The only reason that anybody ever committed any crimes was because you ruled this city with an iron fist. Everyone got tired of living under the world's strongest helicopter parent. All of your former 'supervillains' took up decent careers after you left. The Speed Demon sells car parts and Propaganda Amanda is now a *professional* graffiti artist."
"You are lying to Titanicus, Jaywalker Jared!"
"Would you stop referring to yourself in the third-person?! And it's just Jared. You caught me jaywalking in grocery store parking lot and never let me live it down! Calling me Licensed-to-Conceal-Carry Jared or Second Amendment Jared would be much more accurate!"
As the two argued, dozens of Metropia Police Department cars arrived to surround them both.
"Ha ha! They have you now, Jaywalker Jared!" said Titanicus, stretching out his arm only to be met with a handcuffs. "There must be some mistake," said Titanicus. "You are not prosecuting Jaywalker Jared!"
"No, we are not going to prosecute him, Titanicus," said the police officer desperately trying to pull Titanicus' unmoving arm behind his back. "The state has decided to try you for vigilantism, widespread intimidation to other citizens, and an endangerment to the rehabilitation of petty criminals. Citizens were hoping for either excommunication or execution."
Knowing how Metropia felt about him, Titanicus submitted himself to be put in the back of an MPD car. As he looked out of the window, his eyes met with Jaywalker Jared. As much as Titanicus wanted to use his heat vision to melt a hole into the Jaywalker's face, he decided against it.
This whole bounty brainwashing nonsense was likely the work of Propaganda Amanda anyway. | |
[WP] A superhero is fed up with how reliant his city has become on him for every little thing, so he takes a vacation. Upon his return, he discovers that the city is now completely free of crime... and that there's a $1,000,000 bounty on his head. | I always knew this city was full of idiots, but I never expected them to do something *this* stupid. I'd hoped they'd learn a little independence in my absence, but this? This is wide-scale rebellion. Apparently there's been a temporary drop in crime rate - okay, a 100% drop in crime rates - and they've decided that makes *me* a criminal. Bastards.
Guess no one remembers what life was like before I started this gig eight years ago. We had black kids getting shot for carrying a squirt gun and Fentanyl junkies dying on park benches because no one dared to check if they were breathing. Enter the Illusionist and all that shit took a pretty dramatic downturn. Turns out the threat of a one-way trip on the crazy train is fairly decent at disincentivizing shitty behaviour. Here's the thing, though: the real criminals didn't *stop*, they just moved out of town. I call this Illusion #1.
Illusion #2 is that I *may* or may not have been forced to conduct some mock battles with "supervillains" to stay relevant. You know how the fights got more and more theatrical yet surprisingly nothing ever got destroyed? Yeah, I can't fly. I can't even make an invisible jet. Any sensible human being would have realized that the supervillains only showed up during dramatic sky duels, but like I said, this city is full of idiots.
Now I see you've got a bounty posted. $1,000,000? Really? You couldn't have sent any of that my way when I was saving you from yourselves? Well, I wish you luck in your search for a chiselled 30-something white dude with super powers. The Illusionist is on hiatus for the foreseeable future. Let me know when you all get disillusioned with Utopia. | When The Firewoman entered her lair, she was still shaking her head. She had saved the city more times than she could count. She prevented Dr. Fangclaw from creating a city of zombies. She almost died saving that bus full of children when the Metal Gang tossed it off the Seaside Bridge. This is the thanks she gets?
She felt a rage burn inside of her. As she did her body began to burn brightly. "No...I can't let myself get upset in the city. It's too dangerous."
The Firewoman considered why she even cared about this city any more. "Maybe this is a sign," she whispered to herself as a puff of smoke escaped her lips. "Just like all of my efforts with my mother, it's never enough."
She remembered how nice the beach felt instead of this dark, wet city. She remembered how good it was to recharge her solar energy, instead of hiding in the shadows and rain, hoping that she would have enough energy to fight off the next villain.
The Firewoman left town that night and sent some of her old colleagues to reclaim her things.
Unfortunately, Dr. Fangclaw got there before they did and looted the weapons. When he set off the Fire Destroyer, a weapon so deadly The Firewoman swore off using it forever, the town was destroyed. Only one tenth of the population survived.
The Firewoman went into hiding after that. She was never seen by the public again. A popular conspiracy theory is a bunch of those superhero types got together and took her out themselves after they tracked down Dr. Fangclaw.
Someone accused a librarian in Ohio or being her. The woman's DNA proved she was in fact human. However, the police didn't know that when they shot and killed her. | |
[WP] A superhero is fed up with how reliant his city has become on him for every little thing, so he takes a vacation. Upon his return, he discovers that the city is now completely free of crime... and that there's a $1,000,000 bounty on his head. | Life as a Superhero had it’s perks, that’s undeniable. I mean, you end up being revered, loved, respected and above all, idolized. It made my desire for heroics, and my determination to be a foundation for others to stand on all the more prominent.
Reinforced, to a degree. It made my life as a hero pretty amazing. But, all good things do come to an end, so I learned. It didn’t take long for my overzealous demeanour and behaviour to leave the city I patrolled complacent.
They grew needy, and although I loved to a be a hero, I definitely didn’t sign up to be a babysitter. It was only a matter of years before they’ve came to me for answers, for solutions. Results were the expectation, the demanded, not the miracle. My very presence became the very thing that brought my downfall. I went from revered to expected. From loved to expected. From respected and idolized to EXPECTED.
All of my effort, my ethics, my morals and determination were snuffed out by the flames of normalcy. I wasn’t a hero, I was a glorified traffic officer. My deeds and exploits reflected that. From taking on global threats, from destructive means of ending life to finding lost pets and actually REGULATING TRAFFIC.
I needed a break, I wasn’t being compensated accordingly, I wasn’t even being compensated to begin with! A vacation was in order, I simply couldn’t take it anymore. My talents, my power to manipulate light and shadows was for crime fighting, it wasn’t supposed to be used to entertain children at puppet shows!
It was with a relatively guilt-free heart that I left Water Way City. Their dependency on me needed to end. The police needed to do their job and I needed to catch up with some cute Californian girls.
~o~o~o~
My name, or rather, my secret identity is Vincent DeRomes. I like to think myself attractive and athletic, dashingly smart, and with wits unmatched. My hero name, is Eclipse. He's attractive and athletic, really smart, but above all else has mastered the facade of noble duty.
I’ll be the first to admit that my reasons for heroics are…. selfish, Completely and utterly for self-gain The moment I realized I could manipulate both light and shade, I had only one destined path for me.
To get chicks, respect and lots of money.
Granted, that kind of path resembled more of a drug lord’s or some freshman frat boy’s than a hero’s. So why heroics? Well, It was really all a freak accident.
I just happened to be at the right place at the right time. A mugging in which I was earshot from. I heard the pleas for help, the shrill tone of a young woman’s voice was more than enough to make me spring into action. Granted, by the time I even realized who I was slapping silly, I’ve already been given the label of some hero.
I suppose I should thank my hoodie for keeping it all a secret. Let me tell you, that I was pretty darn surprised to hear the woman’s interview later on tv. She described me as a knight in armor.
Or something like ‘frail skinny kid’, the details on that are a bit vague. I did get an urge to hit the gym more often. I’m sure it’s unrelated.
Anywho, that sums up my origin. My powers were given to me by someone, but those details are kept top secret. I became a hero accidentally, and ultimately did it as a hobby.
Hence the lack of compensation. Nevertheless, I did think the kindness and gratitude I received at first from the civilians as enough. It was until I wasn’t even receiving that that I decided it best to call it quits, or take a ‘break’ of sorts.
Let me tell you, the beaches in California are indeed as good as the commercials make them out to be. I didn’t know how to surf, but the board and my shades- not to mention, body sold the idea.
The ladies…. Well, the details are also top secret. Let me just say the commercials weren’t wrong about them either and leave it at that.
After a few months of straight relaxation. I figured it best to go back to Water Way. I mean, in my time patrolling there, I’ve managed to pick up a few nemesis’ who may or may not want to use the whole city and it’s people as leverage over me.
And despite myself, I still longed for the respect I used to get at first. The idolization that’s nothing more but a faded memory. How much I’ve wanted it to return. I guess, in a way, my origin is also deeply enrooted in that city.
Too much of me, as Vincent, as well as Eclipse are embedded in that place. So, for better or for worse, It didn’t take me much time to want to return.
It’s funny, really. Ever went somewhere, haven’t been for a while and return just to think to yourself: “Wow, everything’s different now?’
It’s funny, really, I mean everything, and when I say everything, I don’t actually mean everything, more like the general themes and vibes about the city are different. The once humble city, bustled with night life.
The police for once seemed competent, if the fourth time I’ve been stopped for ‘suspicious’ actions are anything to go by. And the people seem to have all but forgotten me. That didn’t sit too well with me, but I suppose it’s for the best.
That way, when I make my return, people won’t feel to jarred or expectant of me again. I mean, in the few months that I’ve been gone, Water Way has never looked so good. That… that also didn't sit too well with me either.
I mean, was I so easily replaced? Forgotten? I was their guardian, their puppet. I basically served their every whimsical desire like some loyal dog!? And this was my reward? It felt like a kick to the face. Then someone proceeded to gut me, then run me over with a car, then thrown in the river with cement shoes on.
It sucked, I promised I didn’t cry… a lot. Eclipse, the hero was no more. With his disappearance, his reputation, and remaining admiration left with him. Not gonna lie, it made my desire to become a hero again waver.
“Excuse me sir,” I asked, nudging the nearest pedestrian I could find.
“Hmm, yes boy?” The elderly man responded, folding his newspaper as he looked at me.
“Yeah, didn’t this place used to have a hero?” I asked, I wanted to feign ignorance, gain knowledge from an objective perspective.
I failed to notice how the man’s eyes hardened like concrete, his wrinkly jaw clenched shut, “No, he was nothing more than a tyrannical idiot,”
I did a spit take, which without anything to spit out made me look more like a normal idiot than tyrannical one.
‘W-what do you mean?”
“See for yourself,” The man said, handing me the newspaper.
My knuckles went white, and the sheets ripped before me, The main headline, the only headline I noticed, the only one that mattered, said: Eclipse, The Villain, Bounty $1,000,000 Dead or Alive.
“T-thanks,” I choked out, tossing the paper towards the man, he fumbled with the wrinkled form.
I marched away, I didn’t have a destination, I just wanted to leave, clear my head. The chilled air from an autumn night helped in that regard, at the very least it cooled me down. Slightly.
A villain? A villain? VILLAIN? Oh, how far have I fallen? I looked up to the sky. The shining stars looked so condescending from down here. I smirked, figured.
Give them an inch, they demand a mile. I saw it as pathetic, and unjust. But society needed a scapegoat, I supposed that meant me.
Sure, I could have rationalized it, I mean, for me to be labelled as a villain after doing nothing of villainous merit only could imply a set-up. It was the perfect foundation for a redemption story.
I hated those kind of stories. If they wanted me as a villain. Then.
Who.
Am.
I.
To.
Argue?
| When The Firewoman entered her lair, she was still shaking her head. She had saved the city more times than she could count. She prevented Dr. Fangclaw from creating a city of zombies. She almost died saving that bus full of children when the Metal Gang tossed it off the Seaside Bridge. This is the thanks she gets?
She felt a rage burn inside of her. As she did her body began to burn brightly. "No...I can't let myself get upset in the city. It's too dangerous."
The Firewoman considered why she even cared about this city any more. "Maybe this is a sign," she whispered to herself as a puff of smoke escaped her lips. "Just like all of my efforts with my mother, it's never enough."
She remembered how nice the beach felt instead of this dark, wet city. She remembered how good it was to recharge her solar energy, instead of hiding in the shadows and rain, hoping that she would have enough energy to fight off the next villain.
The Firewoman left town that night and sent some of her old colleagues to reclaim her things.
Unfortunately, Dr. Fangclaw got there before they did and looted the weapons. When he set off the Fire Destroyer, a weapon so deadly The Firewoman swore off using it forever, the town was destroyed. Only one tenth of the population survived.
The Firewoman went into hiding after that. She was never seen by the public again. A popular conspiracy theory is a bunch of those superhero types got together and took her out themselves after they tracked down Dr. Fangclaw.
Someone accused a librarian in Ohio or being her. The woman's DNA proved she was in fact human. However, the police didn't know that when they shot and killed her. | |
[WP] A superhero is fed up with how reliant his city has become on him for every little thing, so he takes a vacation. Upon his return, he discovers that the city is now completely free of crime... and that there's a $1,000,000 bounty on his head. | I always knew this city was full of idiots, but I never expected them to do something *this* stupid. I'd hoped they'd learn a little independence in my absence, but this? This is wide-scale rebellion. Apparently there's been a temporary drop in crime rate - okay, a 100% drop in crime rates - and they've decided that makes *me* a criminal. Bastards.
Guess no one remembers what life was like before I started this gig eight years ago. We had black kids getting shot for carrying a squirt gun and Fentanyl junkies dying on park benches because no one dared to check if they were breathing. Enter the Illusionist and all that shit took a pretty dramatic downturn. Turns out the threat of a one-way trip on the crazy train is fairly decent at disincentivizing shitty behaviour. Here's the thing, though: the real criminals didn't *stop*, they just moved out of town. I call this Illusion #1.
Illusion #2 is that I *may* or may not have been forced to conduct some mock battles with "supervillains" to stay relevant. You know how the fights got more and more theatrical yet surprisingly nothing ever got destroyed? Yeah, I can't fly. I can't even make an invisible jet. Any sensible human being would have realized that the supervillains only showed up during dramatic sky duels, but like I said, this city is full of idiots.
Now I see you've got a bounty posted. $1,000,000? Really? You couldn't have sent any of that my way when I was saving you from yourselves? Well, I wish you luck in your search for a chiselled 30-something white dude with super powers. The Illusionist is on hiatus for the foreseeable future. Let me know when you all get disillusioned with Utopia. | "I don't understand it.. I saved this city from hell at least a dozen times. When Jason Madison planted bombs in every public school it was due to my awesome power that no one died. When that Jane Doe was going around strangling infants and pushing them around in strollers it was me who found her and stopped her, got her the help she needed which led to her becoming secretary of state.
"When Brian Wilcox aka "The Terminator" was terrorizing the city wearing bullet proof body armor it was due to my greatness that he was stopped.
"Then all these wannabes and imitators start cropping up, just to get thumbs up on YouTube and upvotes on reddit because they were in a video with me. Finally I had enough. I left. Temporarily. And when I come back I'm told there is a million dollar bounty on my head.
"For what? I didn't make these people do what they did. A bunch of little shits who think being in the presence of greatness is "hilarious" or "oh em gee this guy is so random". Hearing snickers behind my back. Having things thrown at the back of my head. I had enough. So I left. Took a break. Took some *me time*.
"But it wasn't worth it. Apparently a few weeks of being away and suddenly everyone thinks that I'M responsible for all these heinous crimes. I would never strangle a baby. I would never try to blow up children. I would never go on a shooting spree in Times Square.
"Manhattan is a great place. There's a place for everyone from the bottom of the barrel crazies to the richest and most elite."
"Did you ever make an attempt to cover up your crimes?"
"They weren't my crimes! I stopped these people! I saved the city! For crying out loud, I made Hilary Clinton into what she is today! How dare you accuse me of such atrocities? I am Dr. Awesome!"
"Okay, thank you David. I think I have enough."
*********
"We the people, find David Ray Louis GUILTY of 27 counts of murder. 7 counts of Arson. 18 counts of Attempted arson. And 5 counts of Conspiracy to commit an act of terrorism. May god have mercy on your soul."
*********
"Ha! Stupid mortals. This was all a part of my plan. I wanted to come here. It was all part of my master plan. Let's see how much they hate me when I kill all of New York's worst criminals!"
"Shut the fuck up, retard."
"Okay, sorry." | |
[WP] A superhero is fed up with how reliant his city has become on him for every little thing, so he takes a vacation. Upon his return, he discovers that the city is now completely free of crime... and that there's a $1,000,000 bounty on his head. | It would only take a second.
The snap of the Magician's fingers usually could fix all wrongs; it had been working for years. An old lady would scream for him in the street about her morning paper being late and, with a snap, it would suddenly appear in her grateful hands. The same would happen for the stock broker, late to his morning meeting. He would curse and cry to the Magician who was sympathetic; with a snap, the stock broker would be sailing away on a flying motorcycle to his meeting - simultaneously cool and efficient.
So the Magician had taken a vacation; we'd all agreed that it was a deserved one. But overnight crime had seemingly disappeared. People were able to do menial tasks again; things they hadn't been able to do in years. Arthritic fingers suddenly deflated and traffic even seemed to flow smoother during peak travel times. We all perplexedly scratched our heads. *Could this be the Magician?*
It would only take one second.
He sat before the judge, hands tied together as if in prayer. They were ziptied at the wrists and at the last knuckle of his fingers. His finely waxed moustache was wilted and clumpy with sweat. Without his extravagant purple costume, he looked like anyone. Someone small and meek; maybe a bank teller or jeweller. But this person had deceived us all for years. As the jury read their guilty verdict and a tall woman burst into tears, clutching through the air to the woeful Magician, the judge prepared his final words.
"Today we are witnesses to justice. For years, we became reliant on this man for our daily survival. His magics and overwhelming availability to us was a godsend. But the years went on and we atrophied. Children couldn't learn disappointment, so they grew into criminals. Adults who were completely dependant and tied to unhealthy ideas of what it meant to rely on someone. And so the Magician grew stronger than we needed him to be. We were weak.
"And then he left, but it was not abandonment. He was on the path to being a deity to us but we thankfully retained enough humanity to see he was tired. So tired. He left, we grew stronger, and we realized that we didn't need him. Today, we banish him from our lives and reclaim our society!"
A burst of cheering erupted and the Magician began to cry. I smugly watched him from the back of the room. Later today, we would run him out of town the way they did to thieves and liars in the old days.
My perfect little brother - the Magician - was a fraud and a villain. No one was gladder than I to be the first to throw a stone at him as he fled the town he'd nearly ruined.
It only took one second for the rock I threw to knock him out cold. | "I don't understand it.. I saved this city from hell at least a dozen times. When Jason Madison planted bombs in every public school it was due to my awesome power that no one died. When that Jane Doe was going around strangling infants and pushing them around in strollers it was me who found her and stopped her, got her the help she needed which led to her becoming secretary of state.
"When Brian Wilcox aka "The Terminator" was terrorizing the city wearing bullet proof body armor it was due to my greatness that he was stopped.
"Then all these wannabes and imitators start cropping up, just to get thumbs up on YouTube and upvotes on reddit because they were in a video with me. Finally I had enough. I left. Temporarily. And when I come back I'm told there is a million dollar bounty on my head.
"For what? I didn't make these people do what they did. A bunch of little shits who think being in the presence of greatness is "hilarious" or "oh em gee this guy is so random". Hearing snickers behind my back. Having things thrown at the back of my head. I had enough. So I left. Took a break. Took some *me time*.
"But it wasn't worth it. Apparently a few weeks of being away and suddenly everyone thinks that I'M responsible for all these heinous crimes. I would never strangle a baby. I would never try to blow up children. I would never go on a shooting spree in Times Square.
"Manhattan is a great place. There's a place for everyone from the bottom of the barrel crazies to the richest and most elite."
"Did you ever make an attempt to cover up your crimes?"
"They weren't my crimes! I stopped these people! I saved the city! For crying out loud, I made Hilary Clinton into what she is today! How dare you accuse me of such atrocities? I am Dr. Awesome!"
"Okay, thank you David. I think I have enough."
*********
"We the people, find David Ray Louis GUILTY of 27 counts of murder. 7 counts of Arson. 18 counts of Attempted arson. And 5 counts of Conspiracy to commit an act of terrorism. May god have mercy on your soul."
*********
"Ha! Stupid mortals. This was all a part of my plan. I wanted to come here. It was all part of my master plan. Let's see how much they hate me when I kill all of New York's worst criminals!"
"Shut the fuck up, retard."
"Okay, sorry." | |
[WP] A superhero is fed up with how reliant his city has become on him for every little thing, so he takes a vacation. Upon his return, he discovers that the city is now completely free of crime... and that there's a $1,000,000 bounty on his head. | Life as a Superhero had it’s perks, that’s undeniable. I mean, you end up being revered, loved, respected and above all, idolized. It made my desire for heroics, and my determination to be a foundation for others to stand on all the more prominent.
Reinforced, to a degree. It made my life as a hero pretty amazing. But, all good things do come to an end, so I learned. It didn’t take long for my overzealous demeanour and behaviour to leave the city I patrolled complacent.
They grew needy, and although I loved to a be a hero, I definitely didn’t sign up to be a babysitter. It was only a matter of years before they’ve came to me for answers, for solutions. Results were the expectation, the demanded, not the miracle. My very presence became the very thing that brought my downfall. I went from revered to expected. From loved to expected. From respected and idolized to EXPECTED.
All of my effort, my ethics, my morals and determination were snuffed out by the flames of normalcy. I wasn’t a hero, I was a glorified traffic officer. My deeds and exploits reflected that. From taking on global threats, from destructive means of ending life to finding lost pets and actually REGULATING TRAFFIC.
I needed a break, I wasn’t being compensated accordingly, I wasn’t even being compensated to begin with! A vacation was in order, I simply couldn’t take it anymore. My talents, my power to manipulate light and shadows was for crime fighting, it wasn’t supposed to be used to entertain children at puppet shows!
It was with a relatively guilt-free heart that I left Water Way City. Their dependency on me needed to end. The police needed to do their job and I needed to catch up with some cute Californian girls.
~o~o~o~
My name, or rather, my secret identity is Vincent DeRomes. I like to think myself attractive and athletic, dashingly smart, and with wits unmatched. My hero name, is Eclipse. He's attractive and athletic, really smart, but above all else has mastered the facade of noble duty.
I’ll be the first to admit that my reasons for heroics are…. selfish, Completely and utterly for self-gain The moment I realized I could manipulate both light and shade, I had only one destined path for me.
To get chicks, respect and lots of money.
Granted, that kind of path resembled more of a drug lord’s or some freshman frat boy’s than a hero’s. So why heroics? Well, It was really all a freak accident.
I just happened to be at the right place at the right time. A mugging in which I was earshot from. I heard the pleas for help, the shrill tone of a young woman’s voice was more than enough to make me spring into action. Granted, by the time I even realized who I was slapping silly, I’ve already been given the label of some hero.
I suppose I should thank my hoodie for keeping it all a secret. Let me tell you, that I was pretty darn surprised to hear the woman’s interview later on tv. She described me as a knight in armor.
Or something like ‘frail skinny kid’, the details on that are a bit vague. I did get an urge to hit the gym more often. I’m sure it’s unrelated.
Anywho, that sums up my origin. My powers were given to me by someone, but those details are kept top secret. I became a hero accidentally, and ultimately did it as a hobby.
Hence the lack of compensation. Nevertheless, I did think the kindness and gratitude I received at first from the civilians as enough. It was until I wasn’t even receiving that that I decided it best to call it quits, or take a ‘break’ of sorts.
Let me tell you, the beaches in California are indeed as good as the commercials make them out to be. I didn’t know how to surf, but the board and my shades- not to mention, body sold the idea.
The ladies…. Well, the details are also top secret. Let me just say the commercials weren’t wrong about them either and leave it at that.
After a few months of straight relaxation. I figured it best to go back to Water Way. I mean, in my time patrolling there, I’ve managed to pick up a few nemesis’ who may or may not want to use the whole city and it’s people as leverage over me.
And despite myself, I still longed for the respect I used to get at first. The idolization that’s nothing more but a faded memory. How much I’ve wanted it to return. I guess, in a way, my origin is also deeply enrooted in that city.
Too much of me, as Vincent, as well as Eclipse are embedded in that place. So, for better or for worse, It didn’t take me much time to want to return.
It’s funny, really. Ever went somewhere, haven’t been for a while and return just to think to yourself: “Wow, everything’s different now?’
It’s funny, really, I mean everything, and when I say everything, I don’t actually mean everything, more like the general themes and vibes about the city are different. The once humble city, bustled with night life.
The police for once seemed competent, if the fourth time I’ve been stopped for ‘suspicious’ actions are anything to go by. And the people seem to have all but forgotten me. That didn’t sit too well with me, but I suppose it’s for the best.
That way, when I make my return, people won’t feel to jarred or expectant of me again. I mean, in the few months that I’ve been gone, Water Way has never looked so good. That… that also didn't sit too well with me either.
I mean, was I so easily replaced? Forgotten? I was their guardian, their puppet. I basically served their every whimsical desire like some loyal dog!? And this was my reward? It felt like a kick to the face. Then someone proceeded to gut me, then run me over with a car, then thrown in the river with cement shoes on.
It sucked, I promised I didn’t cry… a lot. Eclipse, the hero was no more. With his disappearance, his reputation, and remaining admiration left with him. Not gonna lie, it made my desire to become a hero again waver.
“Excuse me sir,” I asked, nudging the nearest pedestrian I could find.
“Hmm, yes boy?” The elderly man responded, folding his newspaper as he looked at me.
“Yeah, didn’t this place used to have a hero?” I asked, I wanted to feign ignorance, gain knowledge from an objective perspective.
I failed to notice how the man’s eyes hardened like concrete, his wrinkly jaw clenched shut, “No, he was nothing more than a tyrannical idiot,”
I did a spit take, which without anything to spit out made me look more like a normal idiot than tyrannical one.
‘W-what do you mean?”
“See for yourself,” The man said, handing me the newspaper.
My knuckles went white, and the sheets ripped before me, The main headline, the only headline I noticed, the only one that mattered, said: Eclipse, The Villain, Bounty $1,000,000 Dead or Alive.
“T-thanks,” I choked out, tossing the paper towards the man, he fumbled with the wrinkled form.
I marched away, I didn’t have a destination, I just wanted to leave, clear my head. The chilled air from an autumn night helped in that regard, at the very least it cooled me down. Slightly.
A villain? A villain? VILLAIN? Oh, how far have I fallen? I looked up to the sky. The shining stars looked so condescending from down here. I smirked, figured.
Give them an inch, they demand a mile. I saw it as pathetic, and unjust. But society needed a scapegoat, I supposed that meant me.
Sure, I could have rationalized it, I mean, for me to be labelled as a villain after doing nothing of villainous merit only could imply a set-up. It was the perfect foundation for a redemption story.
I hated those kind of stories. If they wanted me as a villain. Then.
Who.
Am.
I.
To.
Argue?
| "I don't understand it.. I saved this city from hell at least a dozen times. When Jason Madison planted bombs in every public school it was due to my awesome power that no one died. When that Jane Doe was going around strangling infants and pushing them around in strollers it was me who found her and stopped her, got her the help she needed which led to her becoming secretary of state.
"When Brian Wilcox aka "The Terminator" was terrorizing the city wearing bullet proof body armor it was due to my greatness that he was stopped.
"Then all these wannabes and imitators start cropping up, just to get thumbs up on YouTube and upvotes on reddit because they were in a video with me. Finally I had enough. I left. Temporarily. And when I come back I'm told there is a million dollar bounty on my head.
"For what? I didn't make these people do what they did. A bunch of little shits who think being in the presence of greatness is "hilarious" or "oh em gee this guy is so random". Hearing snickers behind my back. Having things thrown at the back of my head. I had enough. So I left. Took a break. Took some *me time*.
"But it wasn't worth it. Apparently a few weeks of being away and suddenly everyone thinks that I'M responsible for all these heinous crimes. I would never strangle a baby. I would never try to blow up children. I would never go on a shooting spree in Times Square.
"Manhattan is a great place. There's a place for everyone from the bottom of the barrel crazies to the richest and most elite."
"Did you ever make an attempt to cover up your crimes?"
"They weren't my crimes! I stopped these people! I saved the city! For crying out loud, I made Hilary Clinton into what she is today! How dare you accuse me of such atrocities? I am Dr. Awesome!"
"Okay, thank you David. I think I have enough."
*********
"We the people, find David Ray Louis GUILTY of 27 counts of murder. 7 counts of Arson. 18 counts of Attempted arson. And 5 counts of Conspiracy to commit an act of terrorism. May god have mercy on your soul."
*********
"Ha! Stupid mortals. This was all a part of my plan. I wanted to come here. It was all part of my master plan. Let's see how much they hate me when I kill all of New York's worst criminals!"
"Shut the fuck up, retard."
"Okay, sorry." | |
[WP] A superhero is fed up with how reliant his city has become on him for every little thing, so he takes a vacation. Upon his return, he discovers that the city is now completely free of crime... and that there's a $1,000,000 bounty on his head. | Whenever Doug came back to the city, he always stopped at the brick filling station at the edge of the limits. He liked to eat a small bag of corn chips and drink a Diet Coke before he changed into his bear costume and lumbered back into crime fighting mode. He also liked to visit with Marty, the owner of the station, who despite being quite far removed from the city always seemed to have a heads up on the latest debauchery. Marty's wife made the best fried pies.
There was a small line at the counter. Doug took his place at the end and looked up at the security television that reflected him standing there. His beard had come in gray this time which made him realize how long he'd been gone.
"Please, go ahead," said the woman in front of him.
"It's all right," said Doug. "No hurry."
"I insist," she said as she moved behind him.
The little old man now ahead of him conceded his spot too, much to Doug's demurring. A bit baffled, he stood across the counter from Marty, who cocked his head and peered at him just beyond the boundary of recognition.
"Marty, it's me, Doug. Don't you recognize me?"
Marty's eyes widened and a smile came to his lips.
"It's been so long. I can hardly recognize you! Where have you been?" asked Marty.
"A vacation, I suppose. Maybe more like a retirement. I suppose I lost track of time."
Doug placed his chips and soda on the counter. With the automation of a long time clerk, Marty pecked the buttons on the register. Doug felt the urge to reach out and hug him, to turn this into a rightful homecoming.
"Five million dollars, even," said Marty.
Doug laughed, admitting that he didn't have that much on him. He took a five dollar bill out of his wallet and extended it across the counter.
"Will this cover it?" he asked playfully.
Marty took the bill and stared down at it as one might look at an old toy.
"I haven't seen one of these in a long, long time. Where'd you even get it?"
Doug, honestly confused, shrugged. He was about to speak when the front door chimed and a kid, probably fifteen, walked through the door and wove immediately to the back aisle. Marty raised his index finger to ask for a moment. He then reached under the counter and produced a mop handle, about four feet long, sharpened to a barbaric point at one end. With silent white sneakers, Marty sneaked around the counter and hid behind the magazine rack near the doors. The boy hurried back up the aisle, clutching a small box in his hand, and turned the corner to make his exit. Marty lunged, catching his shirt on the corner of the wire rack, causing it to come crashing down in clatter of metal and magazines. The boy then clutched the middle of the mop handle with both hands, right at the point where Marty had buried it in his chest.
"Marty! You've killed him!" cried Doug.
Marty dumped the boy on the ground, planted his foot, and pulled free his makeshift spear. Reaching down, he saved the little cardboard box from the pooling blood and held it up so Doug could see.
"He's been coming in here and stealing the headache powder. Finally caught the little bugger."
Doug, his muscled arms hanging limply at his sides, gaped as Marty returned the box to its place and came back behind the counter. He took the rag from the soapy bucket, wiped his hands clean, and it was suddenly business as usual.
"Marty," said Doug, "I'm going to have to take you in."
"Take me in?" asked Marty, taken aback. "To where? For what?"
"To jail! For murder!"
Marty shook his head softly as one might pitifully listen to the rather useless questions of an amnesiac. He then looked past Doug to the people waiting patiently behind him.
"Take it, friends. It's on the house today."
The other customers quietly returned the items to their places on the shelves and filed out of the store, stepping instinctively over the bloodied linoleum. Marty locked the front doors and turned the sign to closed.
"Come on, Bear," he said, motioning to the staircase that led up to his apartment above the store. "There's things you need to know." | "I don't understand it.. I saved this city from hell at least a dozen times. When Jason Madison planted bombs in every public school it was due to my awesome power that no one died. When that Jane Doe was going around strangling infants and pushing them around in strollers it was me who found her and stopped her, got her the help she needed which led to her becoming secretary of state.
"When Brian Wilcox aka "The Terminator" was terrorizing the city wearing bullet proof body armor it was due to my greatness that he was stopped.
"Then all these wannabes and imitators start cropping up, just to get thumbs up on YouTube and upvotes on reddit because they were in a video with me. Finally I had enough. I left. Temporarily. And when I come back I'm told there is a million dollar bounty on my head.
"For what? I didn't make these people do what they did. A bunch of little shits who think being in the presence of greatness is "hilarious" or "oh em gee this guy is so random". Hearing snickers behind my back. Having things thrown at the back of my head. I had enough. So I left. Took a break. Took some *me time*.
"But it wasn't worth it. Apparently a few weeks of being away and suddenly everyone thinks that I'M responsible for all these heinous crimes. I would never strangle a baby. I would never try to blow up children. I would never go on a shooting spree in Times Square.
"Manhattan is a great place. There's a place for everyone from the bottom of the barrel crazies to the richest and most elite."
"Did you ever make an attempt to cover up your crimes?"
"They weren't my crimes! I stopped these people! I saved the city! For crying out loud, I made Hilary Clinton into what she is today! How dare you accuse me of such atrocities? I am Dr. Awesome!"
"Okay, thank you David. I think I have enough."
*********
"We the people, find David Ray Louis GUILTY of 27 counts of murder. 7 counts of Arson. 18 counts of Attempted arson. And 5 counts of Conspiracy to commit an act of terrorism. May god have mercy on your soul."
*********
"Ha! Stupid mortals. This was all a part of my plan. I wanted to come here. It was all part of my master plan. Let's see how much they hate me when I kill all of New York's worst criminals!"
"Shut the fuck up, retard."
"Okay, sorry." | |
[WP] A superhero is fed up with how reliant his city has become on him for every little thing, so he takes a vacation. Upon his return, he discovers that the city is now completely free of crime... and that there's a $1,000,000 bounty on his head. | I always knew this city was full of idiots, but I never expected them to do something *this* stupid. I'd hoped they'd learn a little independence in my absence, but this? This is wide-scale rebellion. Apparently there's been a temporary drop in crime rate - okay, a 100% drop in crime rates - and they've decided that makes *me* a criminal. Bastards.
Guess no one remembers what life was like before I started this gig eight years ago. We had black kids getting shot for carrying a squirt gun and Fentanyl junkies dying on park benches because no one dared to check if they were breathing. Enter the Illusionist and all that shit took a pretty dramatic downturn. Turns out the threat of a one-way trip on the crazy train is fairly decent at disincentivizing shitty behaviour. Here's the thing, though: the real criminals didn't *stop*, they just moved out of town. I call this Illusion #1.
Illusion #2 is that I *may* or may not have been forced to conduct some mock battles with "supervillains" to stay relevant. You know how the fights got more and more theatrical yet surprisingly nothing ever got destroyed? Yeah, I can't fly. I can't even make an invisible jet. Any sensible human being would have realized that the supervillains only showed up during dramatic sky duels, but like I said, this city is full of idiots.
Now I see you've got a bounty posted. $1,000,000? Really? You couldn't have sent any of that my way when I was saving you from yourselves? Well, I wish you luck in your search for a chiselled 30-something white dude with super powers. The Illusionist is on hiatus for the foreseeable future. Let me know when you all get disillusioned with Utopia. | Captain walks into the front door of his old secluded farmhouse. Cabo had been so fun, he kind of cut loose with the alcohol and women for the last two weeks. It'd been decades since he had fun like that, the relaxation, the sun and just the lounging around not having to save people all day long. Before he left, the city's politicians were waging an all out war on him in the media. Call him a menace to society. He was just trying to do the right thing and help people. That's all he did, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, it was his full time job for which he received nothing. The city was a goddamn cesspool and it took all of his time. Now these "elected" officials are calling for his head. It was a perfect time for a vacation.
He dumps his Cabo clothes straight into the washer, hits the heavy soiled option and hits play! HELP HELP! He hears the first cry for help since he's been back. Back to action, he fly's to the scene, an old lady pointing up to a tree.
My cats stuck in the tree says the old lady! Captain turns to look, he doesn't see any animals in the tree. Ma'am, I don't see your cat, are you sure it's this tree? He immediately thinks dementia/Alzheimers. As Captain turns back, he see's the old lady pull a 44 magnum out of her purse. There's no fucking cat asshole, I'm here to collect the bounty! She unloads the clip into the Captain and he just stands there, shocked. Wth he's thinking as the last bullet ricochets off his chest and drills the old lady right between the eyes. She falls back dead. Three cops roll up immediately, they look angry. Captain starts explaining what happened and immediately the cops slap cuffs on him. Baffled by the recent events, the Captain asks them, what the hell is going on, this women said something about a bounty on me. The city has a bounty on your life, we voted that we are better off with out you says the tall cop. The city was virtually crime free in your absence says the short fat one. The muscular cop pulls out his 9mm followed by the other two, the unload there clips. All of them fall down from ricochets. Captains mouth is just hanging open, what the f just happened he thinks. He looks up to the crowd gathering, it looks more like an angry mob. People are pouring out of there houses with all sorts of weapons now. Is that an RPG? Pitchfork? That lady has a garden hoe! He flexes his forearms and the cuffs snap into pieces. Captain fly's up above the crowd as bullets start whizzing by him, he blasts out of there at the Mac 10 leaving shattered windows and buildings below. The people that are still conscious are holding there ears as blood pours out of them.
Back at the ranch, Captain pulls a bottle of Tequila from his last unpacked bag and downs it. They think I'm a menace, I'll f'ing show them a menace! He walks over to his well stocked bar and starts uncorking everything.
Early the next day, people are gathered outside city hall chanting stupid slogans for Captain's head. The mayor and other officials gather at the microphone to address them. Before a word is spoken a sonic boom startles everyone and the Captain appears, hovering hundreds of feet over them, a bottle in hand.
The Captain bellows out in his loudest voice, it shatters all the windows in the surrounding blocks. "You think I'm a menace and that your better off without a HERO! This city is a shit hole and you are all fucking horrible people. So the HERO is gone. But now you have a villian! Fuck every last one of you little pissants!" Lasers blast from both his eyes creating a 1 mile diameter circle around city hall. People are screaming and running in every direction as the mile wide section rises from the ground. It accelerates up and up at an alarming rate and then disappears into the sun in a small insignificant fireball. Captain returns to the giant hole in the ground and is surveying the damage he created, a smile on his face, bottle still in hand. He takes another chug, the smile disappears. Fuck, my favorite liquor store used to be in that hole! I really need to stop drinking!
|
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