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[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | The alley is cold at night
The cold wind sweeps the trash around the hole you call a bed, the city figures walk past oblivious to your presence, good, it’s better for them that way. The secrets you hide, what you’ve heard from the worst in people, the lowest of the low. You remember when they came to you, offering comfort, offering food, offering a new life. They gave you that for sure. Those two, their images burned into your brain. The memory of the night they took your eyes.
The alley is cold at night, its dark here too.
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word count: 100 words
both positive and negative critique welcome.
| *Ding dong.*
It's about time the pizza got here.
I step around the corner, and fish the money out of my pocket. I look through the peephole. It's not the pizza guy. It's a...person?
It's dressed in black. Can't see its face, until it looks at me through the peephole. Its smile appears out of the shadow of its face.
He gets closer to the peephole. He laughs. "Don't worry. Pizza's on me."
From behind its back it pulls out the pizza guy's head and drops it on my porch. | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | My sisters are identical. They have the same smile. They have the same hair. They have the same eyes.
Beth is thinner, but Eliza has the better hair. It's like there one person. And now they are, the same person, I know. I know, I know this so well.
I watch them sleeping as I sat down my sewing needle and discard the extra parts. | *Ding dong.*
It's about time the pizza got here.
I step around the corner, and fish the money out of my pocket. I look through the peephole. It's not the pizza guy. It's a...person?
It's dressed in black. Can't see its face, until it looks at me through the peephole. Its smile appears out of the shadow of its face.
He gets closer to the peephole. He laughs. "Don't worry. Pizza's on me."
From behind its back it pulls out the pizza guy's head and drops it on my porch. | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | Exhausted from another day of work, you drive up to your house and notice a strange car in front of you house. After cautiously pulling your car into the driveway you walk up to find your door hanging wide open. Holding your keys as defense you creep inside where your once beautiful wife, five year old son and three year old daughter lay in a pool of blood. A man stands above them, laughing maliciously, brings the gun up to his head and pulls the trigger. He tumbles to the ground, crumpled upon your family, splattering them with his blood.
Word Count: 100
First story on here, I'd love any feedback! | *Ding dong.*
It's about time the pizza got here.
I step around the corner, and fish the money out of my pocket. I look through the peephole. It's not the pizza guy. It's a...person?
It's dressed in black. Can't see its face, until it looks at me through the peephole. Its smile appears out of the shadow of its face.
He gets closer to the peephole. He laughs. "Don't worry. Pizza's on me."
From behind its back it pulls out the pizza guy's head and drops it on my porch. | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | The strike was quick and left us with almost no time to react. Jamie’s lifeless body collapsed to the floor as a spray of warm blood spewed across the back of my neck.
I had no time to be disgusted.
No time to morn.
No time to see what the fuck was hunting us.
I just had to keep running and as my gaze briefly meet Steve’s, I could tell he knew as well. We turned the corner and my heart briefly stopped as all we saw before us was a brick wall. I collapsed, tears running down my face.
---
Word count: 100
Pretty new to all this writing prompt stuff so feedback would be awesome! | *Ding dong.*
It's about time the pizza got here.
I step around the corner, and fish the money out of my pocket. I look through the peephole. It's not the pizza guy. It's a...person?
It's dressed in black. Can't see its face, until it looks at me through the peephole. Its smile appears out of the shadow of its face.
He gets closer to the peephole. He laughs. "Don't worry. Pizza's on me."
From behind its back it pulls out the pizza guy's head and drops it on my porch. | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | We're going to make the world a better place. The head cheerleader at my school once had her boyfriend beat up a geek from her class because he'd written her a love letter. The captain of the football team sexually assaulted one of the unpopular girls, and peer pressure made her drop all charges. This goes on everywhere. But tomorrow, the pretty bitches' lockers all over the country will contain acid traps. The bullies' lockers will contain anthrax spores. After this, the strong and beautiful will also be kind and humble. Or else we set our second plan in motion.
Feel free to critique | *Ding dong.*
It's about time the pizza got here.
I step around the corner, and fish the money out of my pocket. I look through the peephole. It's not the pizza guy. It's a...person?
It's dressed in black. Can't see its face, until it looks at me through the peephole. Its smile appears out of the shadow of its face.
He gets closer to the peephole. He laughs. "Don't worry. Pizza's on me."
From behind its back it pulls out the pizza guy's head and drops it on my porch. | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | She woke up. Always the same nightmare around this time. Her sheet and blanket were soaked. Not worse than usual, but still uncomfortable to sleep on. She went to the bathroom to wash off the sweat and blood. As she looked in the mirror to remove the big chunks of meat from her teeth, she could see the full moon setting through the window. | *Ding dong.*
It's about time the pizza got here.
I step around the corner, and fish the money out of my pocket. I look through the peephole. It's not the pizza guy. It's a...person?
It's dressed in black. Can't see its face, until it looks at me through the peephole. Its smile appears out of the shadow of its face.
He gets closer to the peephole. He laughs. "Don't worry. Pizza's on me."
From behind its back it pulls out the pizza guy's head and drops it on my porch. | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | “Hello?”
Dead silence.
Jane hung up. This was the third call in two days. An unknown number would ring. Nothing.
She went back to typing. Keys clicking with frightened hesitation.
*Ring!*
An exasperated huff. “What?!”
Deep in the silence on the other end she heard, “what…”
It was Jane’s voice.
“Fuck this!” She spat into the phone. Body rigid.
“fuck this…” out of the phone’s speaker, it was clear as could be.
Even I could hear it.
I crept my way down the hall. Into her office.
She was still sitting, frozen, when I put my hands around her throat. | *Ding dong.*
It's about time the pizza got here.
I step around the corner, and fish the money out of my pocket. I look through the peephole. It's not the pizza guy. It's a...person?
It's dressed in black. Can't see its face, until it looks at me through the peephole. Its smile appears out of the shadow of its face.
He gets closer to the peephole. He laughs. "Don't worry. Pizza's on me."
From behind its back it pulls out the pizza guy's head and drops it on my porch. | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | The strike was quick and left us with almost no time to react. Jamie’s lifeless body collapsed to the floor as a spray of warm blood spewed across the back of my neck.
I had no time to be disgusted.
No time to morn.
No time to see what the fuck was hunting us.
I just had to keep running and as my gaze briefly meet Steve’s, I could tell he knew as well. We turned the corner and my heart briefly stopped as all we saw before us was a brick wall. I collapsed, tears running down my face.
---
Word count: 100
Pretty new to all this writing prompt stuff so feedback would be awesome! | There's something in the dark. I've known for a while now. Sometimes I can see the shadows that flash across my vision. Sometimes I can feel the presence of something lurking behind me. Sometimes I sense the hot breath of something on my neck, but it never stays for very long. I thought for a while I was imagining it, that my mind was playing tricks on me, that the dark was playing tricks on my mind...and then one day I knew. There was something in the dark, because it killed me. Now I am the something the dark. | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | We're going to make the world a better place. The head cheerleader at my school once had her boyfriend beat up a geek from her class because he'd written her a love letter. The captain of the football team sexually assaulted one of the unpopular girls, and peer pressure made her drop all charges. This goes on everywhere. But tomorrow, the pretty bitches' lockers all over the country will contain acid traps. The bullies' lockers will contain anthrax spores. After this, the strong and beautiful will also be kind and humble. Or else we set our second plan in motion.
Feel free to critique | There's something in the dark. I've known for a while now. Sometimes I can see the shadows that flash across my vision. Sometimes I can feel the presence of something lurking behind me. Sometimes I sense the hot breath of something on my neck, but it never stays for very long. I thought for a while I was imagining it, that my mind was playing tricks on me, that the dark was playing tricks on my mind...and then one day I knew. There was something in the dark, because it killed me. Now I am the something the dark. | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | She woke up. Always the same nightmare around this time. Her sheet and blanket were soaked. Not worse than usual, but still uncomfortable to sleep on. She went to the bathroom to wash off the sweat and blood. As she looked in the mirror to remove the big chunks of meat from her teeth, she could see the full moon setting through the window. | There's something in the dark. I've known for a while now. Sometimes I can see the shadows that flash across my vision. Sometimes I can feel the presence of something lurking behind me. Sometimes I sense the hot breath of something on my neck, but it never stays for very long. I thought for a while I was imagining it, that my mind was playing tricks on me, that the dark was playing tricks on my mind...and then one day I knew. There was something in the dark, because it killed me. Now I am the something the dark. | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | We're going to make the world a better place. The head cheerleader at my school once had her boyfriend beat up a geek from her class because he'd written her a love letter. The captain of the football team sexually assaulted one of the unpopular girls, and peer pressure made her drop all charges. This goes on everywhere. But tomorrow, the pretty bitches' lockers all over the country will contain acid traps. The bullies' lockers will contain anthrax spores. After this, the strong and beautiful will also be kind and humble. Or else we set our second plan in motion.
Feel free to critique | It’s the old dream again.
You’re in the water, on his cracked blue boat. Not your father’s, the one from your childhood fishing trips, the one that belonged to the friend that always smelled like that one cologne you can’t name but can always place.
The water rises through the cracks in the bottom, black and lit here and there with the brilliant autumn colors of the falling sun. You’re alone. The water, when it reaches your bare skin, is warm. Slick-wet-warm, and rising.
You listen to the creak of the old boat as the water reaches your eyes. | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | She woke up. Always the same nightmare around this time. Her sheet and blanket were soaked. Not worse than usual, but still uncomfortable to sleep on. She went to the bathroom to wash off the sweat and blood. As she looked in the mirror to remove the big chunks of meat from her teeth, she could see the full moon setting through the window. | It’s the old dream again.
You’re in the water, on his cracked blue boat. Not your father’s, the one from your childhood fishing trips, the one that belonged to the friend that always smelled like that one cologne you can’t name but can always place.
The water rises through the cracks in the bottom, black and lit here and there with the brilliant autumn colors of the falling sun. You’re alone. The water, when it reaches your bare skin, is warm. Slick-wet-warm, and rising.
You listen to the creak of the old boat as the water reaches your eyes. | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | The bedroom is dark and quiet and my son and wife are fast asleep. He really is too old for sleeping in our bed, but tonight is a rare exception.
I hear a familiar padding and smile to myself. When Coco showed up years ago it only took one miserable *meow* before we decided to take her in. In return, she became my son's best friend. Of course she has come looking for him.
*Thump!* She curls up next to my son. There is a strange smell in the air. That is when I remember: We buried her this afternoon. | "Hello," I whispered to her for the first time in ten years. "Hello" I heard back, reluctantly. "Did you read it?" I asked her, "is it enough?". There was heavy breathing down the phone. "No, I still think. . . " . Panic on my end. "Before you say it, you are the only reason I still. . ." "I still think you should kill yourself." The line went dead and I wept, but the phone fell from my paralyzed cheek. If only I could move. | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | “Hello?”
Dead silence.
Jane hung up. This was the third call in two days. An unknown number would ring. Nothing.
She went back to typing. Keys clicking with frightened hesitation.
*Ring!*
An exasperated huff. “What?!”
Deep in the silence on the other end she heard, “what…”
It was Jane’s voice.
“Fuck this!” She spat into the phone. Body rigid.
“fuck this…” out of the phone’s speaker, it was clear as could be.
Even I could hear it.
I crept my way down the hall. Into her office.
She was still sitting, frozen, when I put my hands around her throat. | "Hello," I whispered to her for the first time in ten years. "Hello" I heard back, reluctantly. "Did you read it?" I asked her, "is it enough?". There was heavy breathing down the phone. "No, I still think. . . " . Panic on my end. "Before you say it, you are the only reason I still. . ." "I still think you should kill yourself." The line went dead and I wept, but the phone fell from my paralyzed cheek. If only I could move. | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | It's getting later and you should probably think about going to sleep, although, just one more page won't hurt. As you browse through the prompts one sparks some interest, a few short stories, you could read those before bed, after all they're only a hundred words. You crack your neck, one hand holding your head as you use the other to scroll. Something in the back of your mind makes you wonder if you locked the door tonight, you did, right? So where is that breeze coming from? I'd turn around if I were you... | "Hello," I whispered to her for the first time in ten years. "Hello" I heard back, reluctantly. "Did you read it?" I asked her, "is it enough?". There was heavy breathing down the phone. "No, I still think. . . " . Panic on my end. "Before you say it, you are the only reason I still. . ." "I still think you should kill yourself." The line went dead and I wept, but the phone fell from my paralyzed cheek. If only I could move. | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | “Hello?”
Dead silence.
Jane hung up. This was the third call in two days. An unknown number would ring. Nothing.
She went back to typing. Keys clicking with frightened hesitation.
*Ring!*
An exasperated huff. “What?!”
Deep in the silence on the other end she heard, “what…”
It was Jane’s voice.
“Fuck this!” She spat into the phone. Body rigid.
“fuck this…” out of the phone’s speaker, it was clear as could be.
Even I could hear it.
I crept my way down the hall. Into her office.
She was still sitting, frozen, when I put my hands around her throat. | A cracking twig pierces the air. The sky dims grey and the moon comes out. Why a bird must always fly in front of it, I will never know.
As I walk home down this dusty old path, I hear an echo of footsteps behind me. I tense, and increase my pace. So do the steps. I want to turn around, but I can’t. It’s dark, and I’m almost home. The footsteps are closer. I can’t help myself and run. The footsteps follow.
I’m almost at the gate, when my toe catches on a root. A hand grasps my shoulder… | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | It's getting later and you should probably think about going to sleep, although, just one more page won't hurt. As you browse through the prompts one sparks some interest, a few short stories, you could read those before bed, after all they're only a hundred words. You crack your neck, one hand holding your head as you use the other to scroll. Something in the back of your mind makes you wonder if you locked the door tonight, you did, right? So where is that breeze coming from? I'd turn around if I were you... | The bedroom is dark and quiet and my son and wife are fast asleep. He really is too old for sleeping in our bed, but tonight is a rare exception.
I hear a familiar padding and smile to myself. When Coco showed up years ago it only took one miserable *meow* before we decided to take her in. In return, she became my son's best friend. Of course she has come looking for him.
*Thump!* She curls up next to my son. There is a strange smell in the air. That is when I remember: We buried her this afternoon. | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | I remember waking up in the ambulance, bound, unable to move. The rough canvas of the straps dug into my skin. Bright lights from the roof filled my sight. A man sat in the corner, jostling side-to-side with the bumps in the road. His form slid up alongside me and pulled open one of my eyelids with his thumb. “I think he’s gone,” said the jostling man. “Vitals are flat.” The ambulance pulled to the side of the road and stopped sharply in the gravel of the shoulder. Another man, the driver, leaned over my head and said, “Begin extracting.” | The landlord brought me through the slanted door. “Just this way. Upstairs.” I tripped on a stair that jutted out a bit more than the others. We made it to the landing which had two rooms facing each other and a third room facing a wall. The door swung open to a single bed placed slightly to the left of the room with mismatched sheets and pillows. One wall had two shelves nailed in while the other had three. Three lamps stood in three corners.
“When will you be moving in?”
“No, thanks. I’ve changed my mind.”
_____________________________________________
(97 words) | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | It's getting later and you should probably think about going to sleep, although, just one more page won't hurt. As you browse through the prompts one sparks some interest, a few short stories, you could read those before bed, after all they're only a hundred words. You crack your neck, one hand holding your head as you use the other to scroll. Something in the back of your mind makes you wonder if you locked the door tonight, you did, right? So where is that breeze coming from? I'd turn around if I were you... | The landlord brought me through the slanted door. “Just this way. Upstairs.” I tripped on a stair that jutted out a bit more than the others. We made it to the landing which had two rooms facing each other and a third room facing a wall. The door swung open to a single bed placed slightly to the left of the room with mismatched sheets and pillows. One wall had two shelves nailed in while the other had three. Three lamps stood in three corners.
“When will you be moving in?”
“No, thanks. I’ve changed my mind.”
_____________________________________________
(97 words) | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | Everyone looks the same.
Not you. You look different. Makeup is wrong on you now, and your clothes are no longer comfortable. But no one stops to ask what's wrong.
It's a big city. You pass hundreds, thousands of people. Maybe you pass him. Maybe he recognizes you. Would he? Would he know it's you without your eyes wide with fear and smeared with tears and your own mascara?
Is that him, across the street? Is that him, pressed against your back on the crowded train? Is that him, next to you, with the elevator doors closing?
Is this you? | The landlord brought me through the slanted door. “Just this way. Upstairs.” I tripped on a stair that jutted out a bit more than the others. We made it to the landing which had two rooms facing each other and a third room facing a wall. The door swung open to a single bed placed slightly to the left of the room with mismatched sheets and pillows. One wall had two shelves nailed in while the other had three. Three lamps stood in three corners.
“When will you be moving in?”
“No, thanks. I’ve changed my mind.”
_____________________________________________
(97 words) | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | Cindy Lee Baker's tree sat empty in the yard.
Wind chimes sang while her Grandmother sat quietly. 33 seconds had passed since she had looked up from her knitting.
"Dear?" her warm voice floated through the brisk air.
Her plastic lawn chair creaked loudly as she stood.
"Dear?"
Weathered feet shuffled slowly off the porch onto dirty grass. Marsha Baker continued searching into the dark and twisted forest surrounding.
Frantic Whisperings bounced among the fallen leaves.
Cindy stood frozen. Marsha gasped.
Marsha dived at Cindy.
A sick Snarl.
Marsha looked up at the coyote.
It ran away on two legs.
___
/r/Periapoapsis if you're nasty | The landlord brought me through the slanted door. “Just this way. Upstairs.” I tripped on a stair that jutted out a bit more than the others. We made it to the landing which had two rooms facing each other and a third room facing a wall. The door swung open to a single bed placed slightly to the left of the room with mismatched sheets and pillows. One wall had two shelves nailed in while the other had three. Three lamps stood in three corners.
“When will you be moving in?”
“No, thanks. I’ve changed my mind.”
_____________________________________________
(97 words) | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | I am Charles. I am thirty-two years old, and I am going to drown. My hands are tied to an eye-bolt at the base of a pier in a canal in Gautier. It is a beautiful evening. The sky is an orange crescendo to a simple life. The tide is coming in and the brackish water is turning to salt. I’ve pushed myself up as best I can, my back twisted awkwardly, my feet sunk into the silt bottom. My neck is stretched up, my chin thrust up and out. Only millimeters left and the sky is so beautiful. | The landlord brought me through the slanted door. “Just this way. Upstairs.” I tripped on a stair that jutted out a bit more than the others. We made it to the landing which had two rooms facing each other and a third room facing a wall. The door swung open to a single bed placed slightly to the left of the room with mismatched sheets and pillows. One wall had two shelves nailed in while the other had three. Three lamps stood in three corners.
“When will you be moving in?”
“No, thanks. I’ve changed my mind.”
_____________________________________________
(97 words) | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | During my entire life, never have I been this excited. Then of course, this was an unprecedented event in history of humanity.
It all began last week. Our deep space satellite picked up a peculiar looped radio signal directed specifically towards Earth. A simple radio signal was all it took to confirm we aren’t the only one.
And I now sit before the computer, waiting for it to decode the message. Will it be a declaration of war or an offer of peace?
And as the deciphered message flashed on screen, I froze.
Message simply read, “Send Bob & Vagene”.
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Word Count: 100.
Non native speaker and new at writing. Feel free to critique.
Thank You. | The landlord brought me through the slanted door. “Just this way. Upstairs.” I tripped on a stair that jutted out a bit more than the others. We made it to the landing which had two rooms facing each other and a third room facing a wall. The door swung open to a single bed placed slightly to the left of the room with mismatched sheets and pillows. One wall had two shelves nailed in while the other had three. Three lamps stood in three corners.
“When will you be moving in?”
“No, thanks. I’ve changed my mind.”
_____________________________________________
(97 words) | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | Valentine's Day is a holiday about the heart, and now I am staring at hers. Throbbing, beating, her eyes are open and she is terrified. My hands are soaked in blood. I am surprised at myself. A smile crosses my lips.
She is desperate but we are alone. She is angry. I squeeze hard with my nails and her life explodes hot and gushes. It smells like a shiny new penny as I begin chewing on a rib bone. | The landlord brought me through the slanted door. “Just this way. Upstairs.” I tripped on a stair that jutted out a bit more than the others. We made it to the landing which had two rooms facing each other and a third room facing a wall. The door swung open to a single bed placed slightly to the left of the room with mismatched sheets and pillows. One wall had two shelves nailed in while the other had three. Three lamps stood in three corners.
“When will you be moving in?”
“No, thanks. I’ve changed my mind.”
_____________________________________________
(97 words) | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | I remember waking up in the ambulance, bound, unable to move. The rough canvas of the straps dug into my skin. Bright lights from the roof filled my sight. A man sat in the corner, jostling side-to-side with the bumps in the road. His form slid up alongside me and pulled open one of my eyelids with his thumb. “I think he’s gone,” said the jostling man. “Vitals are flat.” The ambulance pulled to the side of the road and stopped sharply in the gravel of the shoulder. Another man, the driver, leaned over my head and said, “Begin extracting.” | January 5th, 2003:
I was walking down the path, and the wind roared up. Snow kicked and pushed and pummeled me from all directions. Trudging ahead became impossible, and so I ducked into the forest for cover.
I saw a light.
I followed the light.
The wood around me was rotting and damp. An old forest that was full of sounds and moans. A clump of snow thumped heavily down. The frost surrounded me. I looked up, but the sky was dark. My ears pounded with the icy wind. I looked ahead.
I saw the light.
I followed the light.
| |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | It's getting later and you should probably think about going to sleep, although, just one more page won't hurt. As you browse through the prompts one sparks some interest, a few short stories, you could read those before bed, after all they're only a hundred words. You crack your neck, one hand holding your head as you use the other to scroll. Something in the back of your mind makes you wonder if you locked the door tonight, you did, right? So where is that breeze coming from? I'd turn around if I were you... | January 5th, 2003:
I was walking down the path, and the wind roared up. Snow kicked and pushed and pummeled me from all directions. Trudging ahead became impossible, and so I ducked into the forest for cover.
I saw a light.
I followed the light.
The wood around me was rotting and damp. An old forest that was full of sounds and moans. A clump of snow thumped heavily down. The frost surrounded me. I looked up, but the sky was dark. My ears pounded with the icy wind. I looked ahead.
I saw the light.
I followed the light.
| |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | Everyone looks the same.
Not you. You look different. Makeup is wrong on you now, and your clothes are no longer comfortable. But no one stops to ask what's wrong.
It's a big city. You pass hundreds, thousands of people. Maybe you pass him. Maybe he recognizes you. Would he? Would he know it's you without your eyes wide with fear and smeared with tears and your own mascara?
Is that him, across the street? Is that him, pressed against your back on the crowded train? Is that him, next to you, with the elevator doors closing?
Is this you? | January 5th, 2003:
I was walking down the path, and the wind roared up. Snow kicked and pushed and pummeled me from all directions. Trudging ahead became impossible, and so I ducked into the forest for cover.
I saw a light.
I followed the light.
The wood around me was rotting and damp. An old forest that was full of sounds and moans. A clump of snow thumped heavily down. The frost surrounded me. I looked up, but the sky was dark. My ears pounded with the icy wind. I looked ahead.
I saw the light.
I followed the light.
| |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | Cindy Lee Baker's tree sat empty in the yard.
Wind chimes sang while her Grandmother sat quietly. 33 seconds had passed since she had looked up from her knitting.
"Dear?" her warm voice floated through the brisk air.
Her plastic lawn chair creaked loudly as she stood.
"Dear?"
Weathered feet shuffled slowly off the porch onto dirty grass. Marsha Baker continued searching into the dark and twisted forest surrounding.
Frantic Whisperings bounced among the fallen leaves.
Cindy stood frozen. Marsha gasped.
Marsha dived at Cindy.
A sick Snarl.
Marsha looked up at the coyote.
It ran away on two legs.
___
/r/Periapoapsis if you're nasty | January 5th, 2003:
I was walking down the path, and the wind roared up. Snow kicked and pushed and pummeled me from all directions. Trudging ahead became impossible, and so I ducked into the forest for cover.
I saw a light.
I followed the light.
The wood around me was rotting and damp. An old forest that was full of sounds and moans. A clump of snow thumped heavily down. The frost surrounded me. I looked up, but the sky was dark. My ears pounded with the icy wind. I looked ahead.
I saw the light.
I followed the light.
| |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | I am Charles. I am thirty-two years old, and I am going to drown. My hands are tied to an eye-bolt at the base of a pier in a canal in Gautier. It is a beautiful evening. The sky is an orange crescendo to a simple life. The tide is coming in and the brackish water is turning to salt. I’ve pushed myself up as best I can, my back twisted awkwardly, my feet sunk into the silt bottom. My neck is stretched up, my chin thrust up and out. Only millimeters left and the sky is so beautiful. | January 5th, 2003:
I was walking down the path, and the wind roared up. Snow kicked and pushed and pummeled me from all directions. Trudging ahead became impossible, and so I ducked into the forest for cover.
I saw a light.
I followed the light.
The wood around me was rotting and damp. An old forest that was full of sounds and moans. A clump of snow thumped heavily down. The frost surrounded me. I looked up, but the sky was dark. My ears pounded with the icy wind. I looked ahead.
I saw the light.
I followed the light.
| |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | During my entire life, never have I been this excited. Then of course, this was an unprecedented event in history of humanity.
It all began last week. Our deep space satellite picked up a peculiar looped radio signal directed specifically towards Earth. A simple radio signal was all it took to confirm we aren’t the only one.
And I now sit before the computer, waiting for it to decode the message. Will it be a declaration of war or an offer of peace?
And as the deciphered message flashed on screen, I froze.
Message simply read, “Send Bob & Vagene”.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Word Count: 100.
Non native speaker and new at writing. Feel free to critique.
Thank You. | January 5th, 2003:
I was walking down the path, and the wind roared up. Snow kicked and pushed and pummeled me from all directions. Trudging ahead became impossible, and so I ducked into the forest for cover.
I saw a light.
I followed the light.
The wood around me was rotting and damp. An old forest that was full of sounds and moans. A clump of snow thumped heavily down. The frost surrounded me. I looked up, but the sky was dark. My ears pounded with the icy wind. I looked ahead.
I saw the light.
I followed the light.
| |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | Valentine's Day is a holiday about the heart, and now I am staring at hers. Throbbing, beating, her eyes are open and she is terrified. My hands are soaked in blood. I am surprised at myself. A smile crosses my lips.
She is desperate but we are alone. She is angry. I squeeze hard with my nails and her life explodes hot and gushes. It smells like a shiny new penny as I begin chewing on a rib bone. | January 5th, 2003:
I was walking down the path, and the wind roared up. Snow kicked and pushed and pummeled me from all directions. Trudging ahead became impossible, and so I ducked into the forest for cover.
I saw a light.
I followed the light.
The wood around me was rotting and damp. An old forest that was full of sounds and moans. A clump of snow thumped heavily down. The frost surrounded me. I looked up, but the sky was dark. My ears pounded with the icy wind. I looked ahead.
I saw the light.
I followed the light.
| |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | I remember waking up in the ambulance, bound, unable to move. The rough canvas of the straps dug into my skin. Bright lights from the roof filled my sight. A man sat in the corner, jostling side-to-side with the bumps in the road. His form slid up alongside me and pulled open one of my eyelids with his thumb. “I think he’s gone,” said the jostling man. “Vitals are flat.” The ambulance pulled to the side of the road and stopped sharply in the gravel of the shoulder. Another man, the driver, leaned over my head and said, “Begin extracting.” | I had moved from area to area after that incident, never stayed out after dark.
I can still see those eyes staring at me, and the antlers glinting in the moonlight, tips sharp and dripping with gore. It gives me it’s answer to the long dead chef’s statement on that fateful night, the same when I’d never sleep again with both eyes closed. It purrs in the breeze. Soft, alluring, but menacing and tinged with sadistic joy. It savours the chase, of my flesh and blood.
It whispers in the wind caressing my ear.
***“THERE’S ALWAYS MORE TO EAT.”***
[99 words] | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | It's getting later and you should probably think about going to sleep, although, just one more page won't hurt. As you browse through the prompts one sparks some interest, a few short stories, you could read those before bed, after all they're only a hundred words. You crack your neck, one hand holding your head as you use the other to scroll. Something in the back of your mind makes you wonder if you locked the door tonight, you did, right? So where is that breeze coming from? I'd turn around if I were you... | I had moved from area to area after that incident, never stayed out after dark.
I can still see those eyes staring at me, and the antlers glinting in the moonlight, tips sharp and dripping with gore. It gives me it’s answer to the long dead chef’s statement on that fateful night, the same when I’d never sleep again with both eyes closed. It purrs in the breeze. Soft, alluring, but menacing and tinged with sadistic joy. It savours the chase, of my flesh and blood.
It whispers in the wind caressing my ear.
***“THERE’S ALWAYS MORE TO EAT.”***
[99 words] | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | I am Charles. I am thirty-two years old, and I am going to drown. My hands are tied to an eye-bolt at the base of a pier in a canal in Gautier. It is a beautiful evening. The sky is an orange crescendo to a simple life. The tide is coming in and the brackish water is turning to salt. I’ve pushed myself up as best I can, my back twisted awkwardly, my feet sunk into the silt bottom. My neck is stretched up, my chin thrust up and out. Only millimeters left and the sky is so beautiful. | I had moved from area to area after that incident, never stayed out after dark.
I can still see those eyes staring at me, and the antlers glinting in the moonlight, tips sharp and dripping with gore. It gives me it’s answer to the long dead chef’s statement on that fateful night, the same when I’d never sleep again with both eyes closed. It purrs in the breeze. Soft, alluring, but menacing and tinged with sadistic joy. It savours the chase, of my flesh and blood.
It whispers in the wind caressing my ear.
***“THERE’S ALWAYS MORE TO EAT.”***
[99 words] | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | I am Charles. I am thirty-two years old, and I am going to drown. My hands are tied to an eye-bolt at the base of a pier in a canal in Gautier. It is a beautiful evening. The sky is an orange crescendo to a simple life. The tide is coming in and the brackish water is turning to salt. I’ve pushed myself up as best I can, my back twisted awkwardly, my feet sunk into the silt bottom. My neck is stretched up, my chin thrust up and out. Only millimeters left and the sky is so beautiful. | Everyone looks the same.
Not you. You look different. Makeup is wrong on you now, and your clothes are no longer comfortable. But no one stops to ask what's wrong.
It's a big city. You pass hundreds, thousands of people. Maybe you pass him. Maybe he recognizes you. Would he? Would he know it's you without your eyes wide with fear and smeared with tears and your own mascara?
Is that him, across the street? Is that him, pressed against your back on the crowded train? Is that him, next to you, with the elevator doors closing?
Is this you? | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | I am Charles. I am thirty-two years old, and I am going to drown. My hands are tied to an eye-bolt at the base of a pier in a canal in Gautier. It is a beautiful evening. The sky is an orange crescendo to a simple life. The tide is coming in and the brackish water is turning to salt. I’ve pushed myself up as best I can, my back twisted awkwardly, my feet sunk into the silt bottom. My neck is stretched up, my chin thrust up and out. Only millimeters left and the sky is so beautiful. | Cindy Lee Baker's tree sat empty in the yard.
Wind chimes sang while her Grandmother sat quietly. 33 seconds had passed since she had looked up from her knitting.
"Dear?" her warm voice floated through the brisk air.
Her plastic lawn chair creaked loudly as she stood.
"Dear?"
Weathered feet shuffled slowly off the porch onto dirty grass. Marsha Baker continued searching into the dark and twisted forest surrounding.
Frantic Whisperings bounced among the fallen leaves.
Cindy stood frozen. Marsha gasped.
Marsha dived at Cindy.
A sick Snarl.
Marsha looked up at the coyote.
It ran away on two legs.
___
/r/Periapoapsis if you're nasty | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | I am Charles. I am thirty-two years old, and I am going to drown. My hands are tied to an eye-bolt at the base of a pier in a canal in Gautier. It is a beautiful evening. The sky is an orange crescendo to a simple life. The tide is coming in and the brackish water is turning to salt. I’ve pushed myself up as best I can, my back twisted awkwardly, my feet sunk into the silt bottom. My neck is stretched up, my chin thrust up and out. Only millimeters left and the sky is so beautiful. | Something is at your door. Don't open the door. Look trough the window but don't open the door. You see something, be careful so that it doesn't see you. It's trying to come inside, just be quiet and wait for it to go away. Breathe quietly as time passes. You have to do something. Whatever is at your door is still trying to come inside. Hide somewhere safe. While you try to slowly walk to the kitchen to grab a knife, hell in your mind becomes a reality. Before you thought of a way to escape, it was too late. | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | During my entire life, never have I been this excited. Then of course, this was an unprecedented event in history of humanity.
It all began last week. Our deep space satellite picked up a peculiar looped radio signal directed specifically towards Earth. A simple radio signal was all it took to confirm we aren’t the only one.
And I now sit before the computer, waiting for it to decode the message. Will it be a declaration of war or an offer of peace?
And as the deciphered message flashed on screen, I froze.
Message simply read, “Send Bob & Vagene”.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Word Count: 100.
Non native speaker and new at writing. Feel free to critique.
Thank You. | Something is at your door. Don't open the door. Look trough the window but don't open the door. You see something, be careful so that it doesn't see you. It's trying to come inside, just be quiet and wait for it to go away. Breathe quietly as time passes. You have to do something. Whatever is at your door is still trying to come inside. Hide somewhere safe. While you try to slowly walk to the kitchen to grab a knife, hell in your mind becomes a reality. Before you thought of a way to escape, it was too late. | |
[WP] Write a horror story in 100 words. | Valentine's Day is a holiday about the heart, and now I am staring at hers. Throbbing, beating, her eyes are open and she is terrified. My hands are soaked in blood. I am surprised at myself. A smile crosses my lips.
She is desperate but we are alone. She is angry. I squeeze hard with my nails and her life explodes hot and gushes. It smells like a shiny new penny as I begin chewing on a rib bone. | Something is at your door. Don't open the door. Look trough the window but don't open the door. You see something, be careful so that it doesn't see you. It's trying to come inside, just be quiet and wait for it to go away. Breathe quietly as time passes. You have to do something. Whatever is at your door is still trying to come inside. Hide somewhere safe. While you try to slowly walk to the kitchen to grab a knife, hell in your mind becomes a reality. Before you thought of a way to escape, it was too late. | |
[WP] You're in a crowded and enclosed area when you are passed a note that reads "A killer in a striped shirt is coming for you. The only way to stop him is to find him before he finds you. He calls himself Waldo." | "Shit." The word doesn't even begin to approach the seriousness of the situation, and how absolutely fucked I am, trapped in the middle of downtown Chicago with this stupid piece of paper in my hand. I look over my shoulder, seeking the messenger; but they had disappeared back into the crowd.
"Shit, fuck. This can't be real. Can it?" I mull it over, forcing my feet to move, and bump directly into another passerby. She gives me a dirty look as I keep moving.
"Okay. Focus." Let's pretend it's real, because not taking it seriously might mean actual death. I stop in my tracks, realizing how fast my heart is racing. I take a deep breath, then another.
*Police.* The thought comes to me unbidden, but my hand is already reaching for my phone. *No. Maybe that's what he would expect. For me to go to the police. Then he'll find me first.*
I pull out the piece of paper again, considering each word carefully. A striped shirt...Waldo...They couldn't possibly mean *that* Waldo, could they? I had the books as a child. His image appears at the forefront of my mind. There *is* only one Waldo.
Okay...then how am I going to find him? My eyes light up with another idea. In the books, I always had to find Waldo in a crowd of people from a birds-eye view. I crane my neck, looking up at the buildings around me, and head for the nearest, tallest one.
It's some kind of office building. I reach for my phone again, using the other hand to straighten my suit jacket. *Look like you belong and you'll be fine,* I tell myself, bee-lining across the vast lobby for the small crowd of people waiting at the elevator. I glance over my shoulder, making sure Waldo hasn't found me yet. I tap my foot impatiently outside the elevator doors.
The doors finally slide open, and I hurry inside with the others. I watch as they press their keycards to a scanner and select their floor. 13, 17, 5. I try to remain patient inside the elevator but can't help but consider it could become my metal coffin. I feel the panic well inside my chest and push it down, taking another deep breath. The woman next to me glances in my direction, worry etched on her features.
5th is too low, and I worry 17th will be too high to make out details. I get off the 13th floor, leaving with the worried women, who quickly rushes in the direction of cubicles. I head in the opposite direction, towards an empty hall lined with glass windows.
I push myself up against the windows and look down into the crowd I had escaped moments earlier. If Waldo really was a killer going after me, and he was actually good at what he did, he should be down there, searching for me...
I widened and squinted my eyes, then blinked rapidly to re-hydrate my contacts. I searched for what felt like hours, but according to my wristwatch, was only a few minutes. My heart beat hurriedly in my chest, as though it knew it could stop at any minute. I glanced over my shoulder every few seconds, ignoring anyone not wearing red, and nearly jumping at one woman who had been wearing a red suit jacket. I force myself to focus outside, in the crowd...He must be there...
Then I spotted him. Bright red against the sidewalk, a drop of blood in a washed-out background of grey and black suits. A candy cane against a world without color.
I laughed, slamming my palms on the window. Two men passing by jumped, gave worried murmurs to each other. I laughed again, slamming my palms again and again against the glass, the hysterical bubble bursting in my chest.
"I FOUND YOU, YOU SON OF A BITCH!" I screamed at him, raucous laughter taking over my body. "I FOUND YOU!" | My head swung back and forth, searching the club for a sinister looking man in a striped shirt. Surely this had to be a joke. Nobody showed, and I turned to follow the woman that gave me the note.
She didn't look back to see if she was being followed, but I'm really good at noticing the small details, and her hand-knit cardigan stuck out like an orange traffic cone. I followed her as she went out a side door, her red hair streaming behind her in an ethereal fashion.
I trailed her for another two blocks, and she took a sharp turn into a bookstore. I ran to catch up, and when I entered the bookstore she was right by the entrance. She grabbed my arm and pulled me into a corner.
"Didn't you get my note?" she hissed.
"Yeah, I did, that's why I'm following you," I said.
She huffed, like someone who has had to explain the same concept to a six year old one too many times.
"His name is Waldo, he wears a white and red striped shirt, and he's coming for you."
"How do you know that?" I asked.
"He's my brother," she said, her head downcast and ashamed.
"Ok, that's not too bad, what do I have to do to not get killed?"
"Find him first," she said.
"That's easy enough, where is he?" I asked.
She gave me a sympathetic look and walked out the front door. I ran after her, out into the street where it was now raining.
"Where is he?" I asked, yelling after her.
**"Where's Waldo?!"**
*****
/r/ShuckleScribbles
| |
[WP] You are a zombie. You cannot die, but your diet from when you were still human has not changed. Fearing for their lives, anyone you cross paths with tries to kill you, but you've begrudgingly grown accustomed to it. | There is nobody in the road, finally, some peace and bloody quiet. For a country that had strict gun laws, the UK has alot more guns than I was expecting. So far I have been shot in head with a pistol, three bullets in the left arm from a rifle and most of my right foot is missing from a shotgun blast. I guess I have been lucky that most of the people that shot at me were usually preoccupied with my other undead counterparts that actually do like to eat people. Me? I have no taste for that at all, Too gamey.
I can see it infront of me now; "Night bar". It was a terrible greasy takeaway before the apocalypse, but now it seems to stand out like a shiny beacon of hope. Night bar is now more special than it ever was. Why? Because everything they cooked was from frozen. Literally everything. All the other places on this street actually had food that was prepared fresh. Everything will have gone pretty rancid by now, I wouldn't mind but while I still have my tongue intact I'd like to keep my meals tasty.
The neon "Open" sign in Night bar's window is flickering. This is just what I had hoped for, when the power went it must have automatically switched to an emergency generator. Their hygiene rating and the quality of the food was low but their ability to stay open, even during a power cut and all the pubs had kicked everyone out pretty much kept them in business. But now, the shop is empty and dust is gathering on top of the perpetual layer of grease that slicked every surface of the place.
Walking is now a very slow process. Considering my foot situation I'm doing pretty well, but if I ever see the bastard that shot it off I might have to give human another go. My reflection looks back at me as I reach the glass door of the shop. Damn I'm an ugly bastard now, I was never a looker when I was alive but death definitely hasn't done me any favours.
I enter the shop and make my way behind the counter. It's weird being on this side of things, but I suppose that's all part of being dead, you get to experience things from a different perspective. I turn around and spot what I'm looking for; The freezer. I place my hands on it to steady myself and feel the hum of it working through thin arms. Opening the lid is hard but it is worth it for the cold breeze that washes over me. I like the cold more than ever now, it seems to slow my decay.
There it is. A masterpiece of tomato, cheese and bread covered in plastic thick with ice crystals. I close my stiff fingers around the edge of the pizza and lift it out of it's chilly cradle. I remove the plastic and delicately place it into the pizza oven and turn it on. The heat in my face and the cold in my back is a contrast I don't like. I chose to wait in the cold for my Italian feast.
The pizza slowly slides out of the oven on a conveyor like a sunrise on a summer's morning, yellow and red like fire, piping hot. I transfer the pizza to a box and look at it for a moment. I have been waiting a long time for this, I am going to savour every moment. I lift a slice up, the cheese stringing perfectly, it smells delicious. I move it closer to my thin lips. *BANG*
My pizza is obliterated with a flash, everywhere is covered in red, tomato or blood? I don't know or care. All I cared about was my pizza and it is gone. I turn towards were the blast came from filled with rage. I see a familiar face holding a smoking shotgun. I don't care that I don't like the taste of human, I am going to eat every last scrap of this guy. | "Don't eat me, Don't eat me"
Jesus fuck, not this shit again. I jump towards at him just to make the dude run. At least this one didn't try and hit me with a rake like the last one did. I hate live privilege. People think that just because we are zombies that we are going to eat them. Did I eat people while I was alive? Fuck no. I'm literally only here to stock up on my food for the week, just like the alivers. They all think I am shopping for them, but in all reality, I'm here for the cottage cheese. | |
[WP] You are a zombie. You cannot die, but your diet from when you were still human has not changed. Fearing for their lives, anyone you cross paths with tries to kill you, but you've begrudgingly grown accustomed to it. | I sit now, in what has become my home, butnin reality is the old and rusted shack that used to be my favorite restaurant, the silence around me is broken only by my fork against my plate as I eat my cold baked beans.
My unhealthy lunch is interrupted by the crunching of glass, and I look toward the door, the glass in which has long since shattered. The window of my booth is barricaded, so I cannot see who it is that has dared to disturb my gone off snack but I remain seated; best not to frighten the humans.
I let them wander in and spot me, eating calmly at the table. Some itchy trigger fingers tear away at my neck before they notice my politly raised hands.
"I come in peace." I try to say, instead all that escapes my dead lips is a gurgle. It takes a moment for it to dawn on me but I realize one of the bastards destroyed my vocal cords.
"What's it doing?" Asks the large boy inbetween the girl with the deadly fingers and the boy coming toward me.
"I think it's eating beans on toast..." Mumbles the presumably youngest member of the group, as he approaches me.
They lower their weapons and assume a more casual state, mutch to Twitchy finger's displeasure.
"It's a trap! Don't get close to it!" Not bad advice, where I any other corpse.
I lower my arms and resume my meal, but it has gone cold and the bread is stale. But wait, no it was never warm, there's no power for this place 'till I get a generator working; and I can't do that I get these humans out.
While I was establishing a goal for my day, the humans have eventually concluded that I am entirely non hostile and began to casually explore my strange little home. Examining the barricades and repurposed drink dispensers, their young eyes glazing lazily over the signs with 'DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING!' written across them in red paint. Twitchy turns to me and asks:
"Do you have guns or anything else that would be useful to us?" She is clearly trying to act like she's the boss here, my eyes roll and threaten to fall out. Again.
I groan and pull my bearly functional body out of the small booth, and mosey into the back rooms that may have one day been a kitchen or storage, the trio of young humans in my wake.
"So, you understand us? How?" asks the little one.
I try to respond before my throat reminds me of my current predicament with a teaspoon or two of blood that stains my teeth. I simply point to my throat, then to Twitchy. She looks offended.
We reach the room that I keep my small number of possesstions in, and the trio follow me in. They seems somewhat impressed with my miniscule collection. So impressed actually that they decide to point guns at me for it.
"We're taking all of this," says the larger boy with a smirk. "unless you wanna try and stop us?" I look at each of their cocky little faces and gesture to their right.
Upon noticing the semi-decapitated head on a pike of the girl I snagged last week. I pull the hidden lever, and watch as the trio's faces turn to those of fear as the floor below them opens up and lets them fall.
I walk back to my meal and remark on how immoral the apocalypse made everyone. My thoughts are almost drown out by the screams of the raiders as their bodies are crushed and their bones snapped by the workings of the machine.
"I wonder if the next ones will try to kill me." I wonder.
First comment on this subreddit, sorry for the graphicness! | "Don't eat me, Don't eat me"
Jesus fuck, not this shit again. I jump towards at him just to make the dude run. At least this one didn't try and hit me with a rake like the last one did. I hate live privilege. People think that just because we are zombies that we are going to eat them. Did I eat people while I was alive? Fuck no. I'm literally only here to stock up on my food for the week, just like the alivers. They all think I am shopping for them, but in all reality, I'm here for the cottage cheese. | |
[WP] You are a zombie. You cannot die, but your diet from when you were still human has not changed. Fearing for their lives, anyone you cross paths with tries to kill you, but you've begrudgingly grown accustomed to it. | I sit now, in what has become my home, butnin reality is the old and rusted shack that used to be my favorite restaurant, the silence around me is broken only by my fork against my plate as I eat my cold baked beans.
My unhealthy lunch is interrupted by the crunching of glass, and I look toward the door, the glass in which has long since shattered. The window of my booth is barricaded, so I cannot see who it is that has dared to disturb my gone off snack but I remain seated; best not to frighten the humans.
I let them wander in and spot me, eating calmly at the table. Some itchy trigger fingers tear away at my neck before they notice my politly raised hands.
"I come in peace." I try to say, instead all that escapes my dead lips is a gurgle. It takes a moment for it to dawn on me but I realize one of the bastards destroyed my vocal cords.
"What's it doing?" Asks the large boy inbetween the girl with the deadly fingers and the boy coming toward me.
"I think it's eating beans on toast..." Mumbles the presumably youngest member of the group, as he approaches me.
They lower their weapons and assume a more casual state, mutch to Twitchy finger's displeasure.
"It's a trap! Don't get close to it!" Not bad advice, where I any other corpse.
I lower my arms and resume my meal, but it has gone cold and the bread is stale. But wait, no it was never warm, there's no power for this place 'till I get a generator working; and I can't do that I get these humans out.
While I was establishing a goal for my day, the humans have eventually concluded that I am entirely non hostile and began to casually explore my strange little home. Examining the barricades and repurposed drink dispensers, their young eyes glazing lazily over the signs with 'DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING!' written across them in red paint. Twitchy turns to me and asks:
"Do you have guns or anything else that would be useful to us?" She is clearly trying to act like she's the boss here, my eyes roll and threaten to fall out. Again.
I groan and pull my bearly functional body out of the small booth, and mosey into the back rooms that may have one day been a kitchen or storage, the trio of young humans in my wake.
"So, you understand us? How?" asks the little one.
I try to respond before my throat reminds me of my current predicament with a teaspoon or two of blood that stains my teeth. I simply point to my throat, then to Twitchy. She looks offended.
We reach the room that I keep my small number of possesstions in, and the trio follow me in. They seems somewhat impressed with my miniscule collection. So impressed actually that they decide to point guns at me for it.
"We're taking all of this," says the larger boy with a smirk. "unless you wanna try and stop us?" I look at each of their cocky little faces and gesture to their right.
Upon noticing the semi-decapitated head on a pike of the girl I snagged last week. I pull the hidden lever, and watch as the trio's faces turn to those of fear as the floor below them opens up and lets them fall.
I walk back to my meal and remark on how immoral the apocalypse made everyone. My thoughts are almost drown out by the screams of the raiders as their bodies are crushed and their bones snapped by the workings of the machine.
"I wonder if the next ones will try to kill me." I wonder.
First comment on this subreddit, sorry for the graphicness! | There is nobody in the road, finally, some peace and bloody quiet. For a country that had strict gun laws, the UK has alot more guns than I was expecting. So far I have been shot in head with a pistol, three bullets in the left arm from a rifle and most of my right foot is missing from a shotgun blast. I guess I have been lucky that most of the people that shot at me were usually preoccupied with my other undead counterparts that actually do like to eat people. Me? I have no taste for that at all, Too gamey.
I can see it infront of me now; "Night bar". It was a terrible greasy takeaway before the apocalypse, but now it seems to stand out like a shiny beacon of hope. Night bar is now more special than it ever was. Why? Because everything they cooked was from frozen. Literally everything. All the other places on this street actually had food that was prepared fresh. Everything will have gone pretty rancid by now, I wouldn't mind but while I still have my tongue intact I'd like to keep my meals tasty.
The neon "Open" sign in Night bar's window is flickering. This is just what I had hoped for, when the power went it must have automatically switched to an emergency generator. Their hygiene rating and the quality of the food was low but their ability to stay open, even during a power cut and all the pubs had kicked everyone out pretty much kept them in business. But now, the shop is empty and dust is gathering on top of the perpetual layer of grease that slicked every surface of the place.
Walking is now a very slow process. Considering my foot situation I'm doing pretty well, but if I ever see the bastard that shot it off I might have to give human another go. My reflection looks back at me as I reach the glass door of the shop. Damn I'm an ugly bastard now, I was never a looker when I was alive but death definitely hasn't done me any favours.
I enter the shop and make my way behind the counter. It's weird being on this side of things, but I suppose that's all part of being dead, you get to experience things from a different perspective. I turn around and spot what I'm looking for; The freezer. I place my hands on it to steady myself and feel the hum of it working through thin arms. Opening the lid is hard but it is worth it for the cold breeze that washes over me. I like the cold more than ever now, it seems to slow my decay.
There it is. A masterpiece of tomato, cheese and bread covered in plastic thick with ice crystals. I close my stiff fingers around the edge of the pizza and lift it out of it's chilly cradle. I remove the plastic and delicately place it into the pizza oven and turn it on. The heat in my face and the cold in my back is a contrast I don't like. I chose to wait in the cold for my Italian feast.
The pizza slowly slides out of the oven on a conveyor like a sunrise on a summer's morning, yellow and red like fire, piping hot. I transfer the pizza to a box and look at it for a moment. I have been waiting a long time for this, I am going to savour every moment. I lift a slice up, the cheese stringing perfectly, it smells delicious. I move it closer to my thin lips. *BANG*
My pizza is obliterated with a flash, everywhere is covered in red, tomato or blood? I don't know or care. All I cared about was my pizza and it is gone. I turn towards were the blast came from filled with rage. I see a familiar face holding a smoking shotgun. I don't care that I don't like the taste of human, I am going to eat every last scrap of this guy. | |
[WP] Humans are the least intelligent species on Earth. The entire animal kingdom plays along out of pity for our idiocy. | "Hey! Charlie! Hey! Look! Humans are coming!" The lioness said to her King. "Ugh, not again. Don't they have anything else- wait, what is that I smell? Giraffe Bacon?! They killed one of MY pet Giraffes! How dare they touch my pride!" Charlie said as he stood up and started to fly towards the safari buggie. "Wait! Charlie! Don't fly! Humans will find out that gravity isn't what's holding them down but their egos! The more they inflate them the heavier they get!" Charlie stopped and looked at his lioness, "Are you telling me that the fatter they are, the bigger ego they have?!" Lioness does a face to palm, "no Charlie. The more they are full of themselves, the more they weigh." "Yeah! Because they ate all that Giraffe bacon!" He said plopping down. "Aye... I thought we were the more intelligent species..." She said as she turned and walked away. "Hey! Mom! Look at me! I made a human friend!" "Harold! Go put that back where you found it!" "But mooooom!" "HAROLD!....just like his father..." | Kinda of what the Quran says. I remember reading a passage once that God wanted to give consciousness to animals but they all refused. Knowing that consciousness would come with responsibilities such as avoiding sins. Really, they just wanted to do their every day business without worrying about if they will go to heaven or not.
So God created another creature which would have consciousness, humans.
In that sense, I guess the animals are smarter. | |
[WP] Humans are the least intelligent species on Earth. The entire animal kingdom plays along out of pity for our idiocy. | The blue whales had finally had enough. They were the current leaders of the world council, and had made the choice after a hundred years of deliberations. Humans could not be allowed to continue in this way. They knew this decision would be taken different ways by different species. They slowly started singing their decision to other wales of the world who then passed it on to other species. Everybody but humans knew the language of whales. It took several months until the whale council was certain that every species except a few had received the message.
This decision had already been made by the fire ants a long time ago. They knew it would take forever for the whales to make up their mind so they planned ahead. They had built up their resistances to all kinds of poisons and toxins and spread all over the earth. They were just waiting for the right time to strike. The time had come.
The cat regime had been scheming for thousands of years of ways to take over the world and make things difficult for humans. This was just another step.
The cat regime let everyone know to "not full on attack humans, because they would lose." Getting them with small stuff first would be the way to go. They began with leaving the carcasses of dead rats/mice in places where humans wouldn't find them until the rotting began.
The flys/mosquitos of the world knew that this method would work great for them as well since they placed their eggs as soon as the body was set.
The rats and mice didn't like this idea but knew they had to work together so they were given the task of finding the worst diseases possible and infecting old rats with it before they died.
This had a double effect because once the mosquitos hatched from their eggs they were also infected and then went on their mission as attack squadrons of hundreds or thousands at a time. This deal would slowly make the humans sick and the humans were dumb enough to believe that the cats were just being good animals to show off their kills to them.
edit: A little formatting. | Kinda of what the Quran says. I remember reading a passage once that God wanted to give consciousness to animals but they all refused. Knowing that consciousness would come with responsibilities such as avoiding sins. Really, they just wanted to do their every day business without worrying about if they will go to heaven or not.
So God created another creature which would have consciousness, humans.
In that sense, I guess the animals are smarter. | |
[WP] Humans are the least intelligent species on Earth. The entire animal kingdom plays along out of pity for our idiocy. | I do not understand these humans, Rick.
What is there not to understand, Sam?
When do they mature? When do they see the truth?
You mean the cycle of life? Yeah, they don’t understand.
How is it possible? Every species on this planet does.
Except for these guys right here. To top it off, they seem to think they are the most intelligent of all life.
You would think they would realize it when a majority of them live a majority of lives in misery. Even the ones who do see the truth cannot pass it on to the others.
Well there were a few who tried - *Siddharta Gautama and the other Buddhas, Krishna, Jesus, Muhammad, Odin*. The humans worship them but they do not listen to their wisdom and teachings. What lunacy is that?
It isn’t really that hard of a concept either. Life is just cycles:
* Be born - explore life, play, take in the beauty of the world.
* Grow up – enjoy and appreciate life as you do. Take pleasure, procreate, travel and experience life to the fullest.
* Do your duty – joy comes from it, give back, help when you can
* Grow old and die – meditate, think of the nature of life and what is truth or happiness, and the universe. Attain *moksha* and move your now enlightened soul into the next life.
They do not understand the concept of duty nor appreciate the beauty of death. Therein lies their problem.
Maybe I will try explaining it to them in my next life.
You know that we do not tell them since it is the greatest source of entertainment for us. The only one actually.
It isn't right. You know it.
I do. But you know to do that you must sacrifice the progress you have made through your lives so far.
We must fall to pick ourselves up and get stronger. To let ourselves to grow. Only through sacrifice can we reach our salvation. It is one of the essentials to achieving salvation. Maybe through this I can finally become one with the universe.
You do not have the patience yet, my dear friend and that is why you are the mouse and I am the cat. But if still feel that it is your purpose, then I will help you move on. I promise I will make it quick dear friend.
| Kinda of what the Quran says. I remember reading a passage once that God wanted to give consciousness to animals but they all refused. Knowing that consciousness would come with responsibilities such as avoiding sins. Really, they just wanted to do their every day business without worrying about if they will go to heaven or not.
So God created another creature which would have consciousness, humans.
In that sense, I guess the animals are smarter. | |
[WP] Humans are the least intelligent species on Earth. The entire animal kingdom plays along out of pity for our idiocy. |
It had just struck 9pm and Donny, your regular, everyday man was just starting his daily routine to get ready for bed. It had been a busy day at the office today; the boss was none too pleased with Donny's performance as of late. I guess assigned paperwork not getting in on time and being late for more than a few meetings didn't really strike the bosses fancy.
Donny had been with the same company for 10 years now and had seriously been trying to move up the latter of the company for a while now with no success and his patience was, frankly, wearing thin. He'd hoped tomorrow, being a new day would bring brighter and better things for him.
As he finished up his nightly routine, the last part being to put out the garbage, he went to climb in bed, ready for his usual subpar sleep.
*clank*
Donny's ears perked up. Raccoons. Those pesky always came around the same time each night, always rifling through his garbage, and always leaving a mess worse than the last. Maybe they'll notice that the only thing in the garbage tonight was that old, gross computer, Donny thought, as he closed his eyes in an attempt to ignore the noise and fall asleep
*scrape*
*screech*
Damn. Looks like this ain't stopping anytime soon. With a roll of the eyes and a stumble to the door, Donny grabbed the trusty broom and headed from his room to the back door of the house. As he got closer he lightened his steps and gingerly opened the door. And at that moment, as he opened that door, he saw the very trash pandas he had suspected, and as he stepped out side and slowly closed the door, he noticed something slightly unusual.
These raccoons were breaking down his computer. And not just breaking it down, they looked almost as if they were salvaging a part or two from it. Intrigued, Donny decided to watch a little longer before scaring them away. Yes, there were what seemed to be three raccoons, salvaging parts and throwing them into what looked like a hole In the lawn. He stepped closer to get a better look when suddenly
*snap*
Damn, a twig. And just like that all three heads swung to look at Donny and all three heads went to make a dash for it. Donny darted to chase the raccoons, as he was sick of their nonsense and wanted it to end and, noticing, only for a second, the hole they had been throwing their treasures into had magically disappeared. He dashed past the boundary of his yard and saw the raccoons turn towards an old oak tree that had been in his neighbourhood for as long as anyone could remember. He chased them right up to the old tree and just as the raccoons climbed the branches and he thought his chase was over, the tree started to shift.
Everything around the tree shook like an earthquake. And before Donny could process what was happening the tree started to shift and lower. The tree was sinking underground! And the raccoons were still calmly hanging onto the tree. One raccoon, Donny swears, even started pointing and giggling at Donny's failed, and obviously laughable attempt, at catching them.
But that was all the motivation he needed. As the tree lowered, Donny grabbed one of the branches and held on for dear life.
The tree sunk deeper and deeper
10 feet
30 feet
50 feet!
They had to have been on that thing for a good hundred feet down before the magic started to happen. The tree pivoted and started to transform. Branches first lowered themselves to the ground to allow all passengers off safely. The raccoons never even glanced over at Donny, though did keep a safe distance and were now standing upright and proper. Much more proper than Donny's slightly slouched demeanor. Finally the tree converted its trunk into a base and wheels and the leaves were shifted into tiny little seats for the raccoons and one giant seat for their unwelcome human companion.
Amazing! This tree just became a car! Donny thought to himself. As Donny and the raccoons climbed in, the tree finally came to a stop and there it was; a giant open, glossy white room, filled with every animal imaginable, in white lab coats, most with glasses or goggles working on things Donny couldn't even begin to explain
Donny had just accidentally discovered an underground animal labratory | Kinda of what the Quran says. I remember reading a passage once that God wanted to give consciousness to animals but they all refused. Knowing that consciousness would come with responsibilities such as avoiding sins. Really, they just wanted to do their every day business without worrying about if they will go to heaven or not.
So God created another creature which would have consciousness, humans.
In that sense, I guess the animals are smarter. | |
[WP] Humans are the least intelligent species on Earth. The entire animal kingdom plays along out of pity for our idiocy. | "Awwww, what a good pupper you are!!!" Alex cooed to Rosey. "Aren't you the sweetest thing I've ever seen? What a good girl! Who's a good girl?"
When Alex had first picked Rosey from her litter, she had already heard from Mother at how unintelligent humans were. Always praising dogs and cats for doing very little and operating under the delusion that humans had domesticated dogs. While humans were correct in the assumption that cats domesticated themselves, humans were oh so incorrect thinking that they had domesticated dogs. No. According to Mother, their earliest ancestors had domesticated themselves following the same logic as cats - humans' opposable thumbs were a glorious product of evolution that made life so much easier for their ancestors.
But, it was also nice getting re-affirmation that she was a good girl. Praise always did feel better coming from an external source, even if it was from one of the least intelligent species.
Rosie barked obligingly before pawing at her human's legs. Really, humans were useful for so many things, praise, and ohhh... That head scratch sure hit the spot. Man, opposable thumbs sure were handy. | Kinda of what the Quran says. I remember reading a passage once that God wanted to give consciousness to animals but they all refused. Knowing that consciousness would come with responsibilities such as avoiding sins. Really, they just wanted to do their every day business without worrying about if they will go to heaven or not.
So God created another creature which would have consciousness, humans.
In that sense, I guess the animals are smarter. | |
[WP] Humans are the least intelligent species on Earth. The entire animal kingdom plays along out of pity for our idiocy. |
It had just struck 9pm and Donny, your regular, everyday man was just starting his daily routine to get ready for bed. It had been a busy day at the office today; the boss was none too pleased with Donny's performance as of late. I guess assigned paperwork not getting in on time and being late for more than a few meetings didn't really strike the bosses fancy.
Donny had been with the same company for 10 years now and had seriously been trying to move up the latter of the company for a while now with no success and his patience was, frankly, wearing thin. He'd hoped tomorrow, being a new day would bring brighter and better things for him.
As he finished up his nightly routine, the last part being to put out the garbage, he went to climb in bed, ready for his usual subpar sleep.
*clank*
Donny's ears perked up. Raccoons. Those pesky always came around the same time each night, always rifling through his garbage, and always leaving a mess worse than the last. Maybe they'll notice that the only thing in the garbage tonight was that old, gross computer, Donny thought, as he closed his eyes in an attempt to ignore the noise and fall asleep
*scrape*
*screech*
Damn. Looks like this ain't stopping anytime soon. With a roll of the eyes and a stumble to the door, Donny grabbed the trusty broom and headed from his room to the back door of the house. As he got closer he lightened his steps and gingerly opened the door. And at that moment, as he opened that door, he saw the very trash pandas he had suspected, and as he stepped out side and slowly closed the door, he noticed something slightly unusual.
These raccoons were breaking down his computer. And not just breaking it down, they looked almost as if they were salvaging a part or two from it. Intrigued, Donny decided to watch a little longer before scaring them away. Yes, there were what seemed to be three raccoons, salvaging parts and throwing them into what looked like a hole In the lawn. He stepped closer to get a better look when suddenly
*snap*
Damn, a twig. And just like that all three heads swung to look at Donny and all three heads went to make a dash for it. Donny darted to chase the raccoons, as he was sick of their nonsense and wanted it to end and, noticing, only for a second, the hole they had been throwing their treasures into had magically disappeared. He dashed past the boundary of his yard and saw the raccoons turn towards an old oak tree that had been in his neighbourhood for as long as anyone could remember. He chased them right up to the old tree and just as the raccoons climbed the branches and he thought his chase was over, the tree started to shift.
Everything around the tree shook like an earthquake. And before Donny could process what was happening the tree started to shift and lower. The tree was sinking underground! And the raccoons were still calmly hanging onto the tree. One raccoon, Donny swears, even started pointing and giggling at Donny's failed, and obviously laughable attempt, at catching them.
But that was all the motivation he needed. As the tree lowered, Donny grabbed one of the branches and held on for dear life.
The tree sunk deeper and deeper
10 feet
30 feet
50 feet!
They had to have been on that thing for a good hundred feet down before the magic started to happen. The tree pivoted and started to transform. Branches first lowered themselves to the ground to allow all passengers off safely. The raccoons never even glanced over at Donny, though did keep a safe distance and were now standing upright and proper. Much more proper than Donny's slightly slouched demeanor. Finally the tree converted its trunk into a base and wheels and the leaves were shifted into tiny little seats for the raccoons and one giant seat for their unwelcome human companion.
Amazing! This tree just became a car! Donny thought to himself. As Donny and the raccoons climbed in, the tree finally came to a stop and there it was; a giant open, glossy white room, filled with every animal imaginable, in white lab coats, most with glasses or goggles working on things Donny couldn't even begin to explain
Donny had just accidentally discovered an underground animal labratory | I do not understand these humans, Rick.
What is there not to understand, Sam?
When do they mature? When do they see the truth?
You mean the cycle of life? Yeah, they don’t understand.
How is it possible? Every species on this planet does.
Except for these guys right here. To top it off, they seem to think they are the most intelligent of all life.
You would think they would realize it when a majority of them live a majority of lives in misery. Even the ones who do see the truth cannot pass it on to the others.
Well there were a few who tried - *Siddharta Gautama and the other Buddhas, Krishna, Jesus, Muhammad, Odin*. The humans worship them but they do not listen to their wisdom and teachings. What lunacy is that?
It isn’t really that hard of a concept either. Life is just cycles:
* Be born - explore life, play, take in the beauty of the world.
* Grow up – enjoy and appreciate life as you do. Take pleasure, procreate, travel and experience life to the fullest.
* Do your duty – joy comes from it, give back, help when you can
* Grow old and die – meditate, think of the nature of life and what is truth or happiness, and the universe. Attain *moksha* and move your now enlightened soul into the next life.
They do not understand the concept of duty nor appreciate the beauty of death. Therein lies their problem.
Maybe I will try explaining it to them in my next life.
You know that we do not tell them since it is the greatest source of entertainment for us. The only one actually.
It isn't right. You know it.
I do. But you know to do that you must sacrifice the progress you have made through your lives so far.
We must fall to pick ourselves up and get stronger. To let ourselves to grow. Only through sacrifice can we reach our salvation. It is one of the essentials to achieving salvation. Maybe through this I can finally become one with the universe.
You do not have the patience yet, my dear friend and that is why you are the mouse and I am the cat. But if still feel that it is your purpose, then I will help you move on. I promise I will make it quick dear friend.
| |
[WP] Humans are the least intelligent species on Earth. The entire animal kingdom plays along out of pity for our idiocy. | "Awwww, what a good pupper you are!!!" Alex cooed to Rosey. "Aren't you the sweetest thing I've ever seen? What a good girl! Who's a good girl?"
When Alex had first picked Rosey from her litter, she had already heard from Mother at how unintelligent humans were. Always praising dogs and cats for doing very little and operating under the delusion that humans had domesticated dogs. While humans were correct in the assumption that cats domesticated themselves, humans were oh so incorrect thinking that they had domesticated dogs. No. According to Mother, their earliest ancestors had domesticated themselves following the same logic as cats - humans' opposable thumbs were a glorious product of evolution that made life so much easier for their ancestors.
But, it was also nice getting re-affirmation that she was a good girl. Praise always did feel better coming from an external source, even if it was from one of the least intelligent species.
Rosie barked obligingly before pawing at her human's legs. Really, humans were useful for so many things, praise, and ohhh... That head scratch sure hit the spot. Man, opposable thumbs sure were handy. | The clock finally struck 10am and the massive archway gates were slowly pulled open with the sound of a grinding mechanism. Flocks of people that were standing in line flooded through the gates, maps in hand, snacks ready and cameras around their necks. Humans laughed and cheered as they aimlessly moved throughout the enclosure.
They moved with no particular pattern as sounds of shutters echoed throughout the area. They moved from checkpoint to checkpoint and gazed at what they thought to be wondrous sights.
As the crowds eventually reached section D of the enclosure, the scientists looked up from their workplaces and prepared themselves.
"Ready for yet another day of research?" Said Professor Monica Key to her associate.
"Yes of course Professor Monica Key" replied the associate.
"Hmm I hope we can finally try and make sense of these primitive creatures. Be on the lookout for anything interesting and don't give our disguise away. Oh and one more thing, call me Mon. Mon Key. "
The humans genuinely thought they were visiting what they call a "zoo".
| |
I’m thinkin’ dare could be something like surviving in the Amazon rainforest naked until you find a tribe and befriend them. | [WP] Instead of the proper legal system, criminals have to play truth or dare. If they choose truth, they may get into prison. If they choose dare, their challenge may result in death. | Flynt looked at the judge with a harsh expression of his face. He held his right palm close to his chest, squeezed at it with his left to keep it from bleeding. An earlier dare of stabscotch left him a couple fingers short, but he'd not subdue so easily.
"Take a truth, for God's sake..." Melissa, his attourney, begged in a hushed voice. "They'll play around with you until you die," she made her worries vocal.
"No," he fought her on the matter. "With that stupid serum, I'll spill the beans."
"A life behind bars is still a life," she pleaded with him.
"It's not a life I want though," he answered. "Not like you'd understand that though."
He pushed her aside and got up once again. The judge met him with a rueful smile as Melissa sighed.
"What will it be, mr. Flynt?" He asked, overtaken with joy.
Flynt was a hard nut to crack, but he could respect that. Enjoy it even, as crazy enough people that played the dare card until it proved fatal were few and far between.
'Haven't had one in what? Three years? Four maybe?'
The truth serum was a nifty little invention, discovered 30-something years ago. Once it entered the blood stream, it schewed with your ability to lie. You'd not tell the exact truth, but it scrambled your thoughts to the point you couldn't exactly lie either. A skilled enough detective could use that to piece together the truth afterwards.
Yet, in their ever present stupidity, the politicians at the time decided it was not a fair tool to use. The defendents would no longer be able to defend themselves, turned to cornered animals rather than human beings with rights.
Middle grounds were reached when someone proposed to even the odds with a game of Truth or Dare. If they couldn't help telling the truth, they'd skip talking altogether. After all, someone innocent would have no reason to keep his mouth shut and pick dares.
"Dare," Flynt answered, conviction thick in his voice as he glared around the room.
Everyone smiled, a sickening display of barbarity at it's finest. He was not a defendant, no. He was a bull for the toreadors to fight, a caged beast who's suffering was paraded as entertainment. An opinion that only grew stronger in Flynt's mind when he saw the cameras that streamed this event live for the world wide news.
The judge pulled out a revolver from beneath the desk and threw it on the floor in front of him.
"Pick it up," he intructed.
Flynt obliged with a heavy heart. He picked up the cold piece of metal with shaky fingers, soiled it with the blood that gushed from his stabbed fingers.
"Are you familiar with russian roulette?" The judge asked.
Flynt gave a nod of approval. He opened the barrel and froze at the sight that met him. Five damn bullets rested in there, waiting to snuff him out.
"Objection!" Melissa yelped from behind him when she saw a single empty slot in the barrel. "There's supposed to be a single bullet at the start of russian roulette!"
"Dismissed!" The judge answered. "Or would mr. Flynt pick truth instead?"
A trap, and a pretty obvious one at that. They were desperate to get a confession out of him, but he'd have none of that. He struck his palm against the barrel, sent it spinning and closed it as he flicked the revolver in his hand.
He staightened his back and took the muzzle to his temple, in full view of the entire world. A few of them broke out with laughter, and a few others encouraged him to do it. The rest simply watched, with devilish grins extending from ear to ear.
He pulled the trigger. Click. Empty. Everyone was left speechless. Flynt threw the gun back on the floor, and it landed with a clatter that echoed through the silent room.
"You're fucking crazy..." Melissa lamented as he made his way back to her. "Either that, or you fucked Lady Luck."
"Come on!" Flynt taunted as he sat back down. "Who's gonna pick that gun back up?"
The jury fretted. They fidgeted on the spot, whispered and shivered out of their seats. As per the rules of Official Truth or Dare, a member of the jury would have to do the same dare as him and come on top. If he could out-dare all twelve of them, he'd be a free man.
'And there's only five of them left,' he thought. If there was a God up there, he had a pretty twisted sense of humor.
A member of the jury decided to bite the bullet and got up. He walked over to the gun, picked it up with confidence and spun the barrel.
Click. Bang. He fell to the floor, with a hole though his skull and brains splattered everywhere. The judge sighed.
"What will it be, mr. Flynt?"
"Dare," came his answer once again. Four more to go. | Three men, each in ill-fitted suits, tired and annoyed, watch over their prisoner.
He sits, each wrist handcuffed to opposite ends of the table, slightly prostrate and forced low. The right wrist bleeds, but only a bit. The perp's hair hangs over his face, forcing him to make occasional blows of air from his very dry mouth.
"We need a five, buddy, do you need a five?"
The perp grunts. Like he actually has any kind of say?
They gather outside, rubbing their respective receding hairlines.
"Look, we don't got many options here. He's air tight but won't ask for a lawyer."
"Who cares? He's a nobody, a fucking wall flower -"
Interruption.
"Oh eat a dick man he saw plenty."
"One of us goes in. Throw the trial by ordeal."
"It's just a glorified version of truth and dare, they never pick truth."
"Eat another aforementioned dick."
One man walks back into the room, perp still face down. He slowly and noisily drags a chair over to his side.
"Listen, you know you're not on Earth anymore, right? Smuggling gets you spaced in these parts."
Silence from the perp.
"You have two options."
Lean in close, breathe that ripe scent of two day old coffee right into his face.
"You can either reveal all evidence, get a plea bargain, get a new identity, do your stint and no one shanks you."
He removes and smokes an entire cigarette in the perps face before giving his secondary option.
"You can submit to trial by ordeal."
No answer from the perp.
"Choice is yours, buddy. Either way I couldn't give a shit whether or not you rot."
No answer still.
Another cigarette. Smoke blows right to the face, the stations recycled air system always giving the smoke a slight pull to the right. It hangs in the air, a blob of home.
"You mean like truth and fucking dare?"
Gruff voice. Big bad smuggler with a big bad attitude and a big bad case with a big bad ship filled with big bad weapons. Obviously going to give some shit.
"What are you, five?"
"I wish, perp. Would still be on a planet rather than a floating, blinking, orbiting hunk of metal."
Quiet. Thinking, thinking, thinking. Weighing his options.
We all know what he's going to pick.
How else does the department get its dirty work done? Legal procedure? Due process? I don't fucking think so, citizen. No red tape. Just plausible deniability from a doomed man.
Are you going to shoot him either way, detective? You bet your ass I'm going to.
The perp blows the hair out of his face one more time.
"Dare."
Inwardly, the detective smiles. Externally, like a rock. Fine by him.
"Let's get you out of those cuffs and briefed."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Space station hallways always slope downwards, a result of artificial gravity.
The perp makes his awkward shamble, wrists and ankles chained together, clanging noisily, echoing down the hall. At least he's back in regular clothing.
Bruises twinge all over, getting roughed up always leaves that lasting ache. That's the worst part about pain, it just never easily fades away. It seems like it's there forever, then suddenly gone and forgotten.
Low lights make visibility difficult, but he makes his way forward.
Behind him trail his captors, Precinct 7 boys. He'd heard of these kinds of deals but knew how they ended up. You get a tracking implant in your foot, you get a gun, kill a guy, then fry anyway. He wondered who ratted him out, but no matter. No time to waste figuring out how your life got so fucked up. You can usually find the perpetrator in the mirror.
Down he descends, cling clang cling clang clink. Heavy boots behind him. That ceaseless humming of forced air circulation.
A metallic sheet slides upward, revealing a small well lit room, nearly barren.
A table. A pistol. What looks like the world's thickest syringe. A small plastic rectangle.
Forced into the chair. Little to no dialogue from the goons. Inject tracker chip. Load pistol. Remove cuffs. Tap the rectangle and a small holographic screen pops up. Mission dossier.
Goons leave the room. Not so much as a kiss goodbye.
A voice comes from the rectangle, cheerful and childlike.
"Hey there, fucknuts!"
An artificial intelligence, the result of thousands of years of progress, millions of lines of code, advanced engineering and technology, just called me 'fucknuts'.
"What are fucknuts anyway?"
"No idea. So here you go, perp. You know what you need to do?"
"I have an idea."
A face pops up. Well, what resembles a face. Covered in cybernetic enhancements and tattoos, what must have once been a woman.
"We have a slight problem in the docking district. Our informant is providing Precinct 3 with a little too much information and we need to plug the leak."
"Uh, aren't all you cops?"
An automated laugh. Ho Ho Ho Ha Ha Ha
"We may all be cops but this is about budget. If we don't have a monopoly on handling smugglers we won't get enough money for the annual Christmas party."
Ah. Got it. Why does it always come back to money?
"You coming with me, rectangle?"
"You bet your ass I am!"
In the pocket.
"You need a shower, friend."
"You don't have a nose, buddy."
"I can analyze my environment, guy. Now get fucking going."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
May get another break and add some more soon
r/storiesfromapotato |
I’m thinkin’ dare could be something like surviving in the Amazon rainforest naked until you find a tribe and befriend them. | [WP] Instead of the proper legal system, criminals have to play truth or dare. If they choose truth, they may get into prison. If they choose dare, their challenge may result in death. | "What will it be, Mr. Finch?" The prosecutor smirked. "Truth? Or dare?"
Stephen contemplated his options. It was not an easy choice, by any means. He knew the truth - they didn't. If he chose truth, he would *have* to spill the beans.
"Just pick truth and lie!" whispered the voice in his head. But he knew he couldn't do that. He was bound by the laws of the Pinky Swear, a legally-binding agreement that was sealed with the shake of a hand and the hook of a pinky. You don't go back on a pinky swear. Everyone knows that.
Stephen's attorney sighed. "Look Steph, I hate that it's come to this, but we've got no choice. You have to pick dare to even have an ounce of a chance of getting off scot-free."
"Yeah, but what if it's a really difficult dare? You know I hate really difficult dares," Stephen whined.
"Screw you and your fear of difficult dares, we're looking at 40 minutes in the Naughty Corner here! It's just not worth the risk," the attorney said. "Look, we can try to negotiate for an easier dare, even if it's unlikely. But if you don't pick dare, you don't even stand a chance of getting out of this. As your highly qualified legal professional, I highly recommend that you take this course of action."
Stephen threw his hands up in defeat. "Alright, I choose dare."
"Judge, your ruling?"
"Stephen, I dare you... to lick the floor!"
Stephen brightened up.
"Some of the tiles have cyanide on them."
Fuck.
Stephen glared at his attorney. "No backsies," he said with a shrug. | Three men, each in ill-fitted suits, tired and annoyed, watch over their prisoner.
He sits, each wrist handcuffed to opposite ends of the table, slightly prostrate and forced low. The right wrist bleeds, but only a bit. The perp's hair hangs over his face, forcing him to make occasional blows of air from his very dry mouth.
"We need a five, buddy, do you need a five?"
The perp grunts. Like he actually has any kind of say?
They gather outside, rubbing their respective receding hairlines.
"Look, we don't got many options here. He's air tight but won't ask for a lawyer."
"Who cares? He's a nobody, a fucking wall flower -"
Interruption.
"Oh eat a dick man he saw plenty."
"One of us goes in. Throw the trial by ordeal."
"It's just a glorified version of truth and dare, they never pick truth."
"Eat another aforementioned dick."
One man walks back into the room, perp still face down. He slowly and noisily drags a chair over to his side.
"Listen, you know you're not on Earth anymore, right? Smuggling gets you spaced in these parts."
Silence from the perp.
"You have two options."
Lean in close, breathe that ripe scent of two day old coffee right into his face.
"You can either reveal all evidence, get a plea bargain, get a new identity, do your stint and no one shanks you."
He removes and smokes an entire cigarette in the perps face before giving his secondary option.
"You can submit to trial by ordeal."
No answer from the perp.
"Choice is yours, buddy. Either way I couldn't give a shit whether or not you rot."
No answer still.
Another cigarette. Smoke blows right to the face, the stations recycled air system always giving the smoke a slight pull to the right. It hangs in the air, a blob of home.
"You mean like truth and fucking dare?"
Gruff voice. Big bad smuggler with a big bad attitude and a big bad case with a big bad ship filled with big bad weapons. Obviously going to give some shit.
"What are you, five?"
"I wish, perp. Would still be on a planet rather than a floating, blinking, orbiting hunk of metal."
Quiet. Thinking, thinking, thinking. Weighing his options.
We all know what he's going to pick.
How else does the department get its dirty work done? Legal procedure? Due process? I don't fucking think so, citizen. No red tape. Just plausible deniability from a doomed man.
Are you going to shoot him either way, detective? You bet your ass I'm going to.
The perp blows the hair out of his face one more time.
"Dare."
Inwardly, the detective smiles. Externally, like a rock. Fine by him.
"Let's get you out of those cuffs and briefed."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Space station hallways always slope downwards, a result of artificial gravity.
The perp makes his awkward shamble, wrists and ankles chained together, clanging noisily, echoing down the hall. At least he's back in regular clothing.
Bruises twinge all over, getting roughed up always leaves that lasting ache. That's the worst part about pain, it just never easily fades away. It seems like it's there forever, then suddenly gone and forgotten.
Low lights make visibility difficult, but he makes his way forward.
Behind him trail his captors, Precinct 7 boys. He'd heard of these kinds of deals but knew how they ended up. You get a tracking implant in your foot, you get a gun, kill a guy, then fry anyway. He wondered who ratted him out, but no matter. No time to waste figuring out how your life got so fucked up. You can usually find the perpetrator in the mirror.
Down he descends, cling clang cling clang clink. Heavy boots behind him. That ceaseless humming of forced air circulation.
A metallic sheet slides upward, revealing a small well lit room, nearly barren.
A table. A pistol. What looks like the world's thickest syringe. A small plastic rectangle.
Forced into the chair. Little to no dialogue from the goons. Inject tracker chip. Load pistol. Remove cuffs. Tap the rectangle and a small holographic screen pops up. Mission dossier.
Goons leave the room. Not so much as a kiss goodbye.
A voice comes from the rectangle, cheerful and childlike.
"Hey there, fucknuts!"
An artificial intelligence, the result of thousands of years of progress, millions of lines of code, advanced engineering and technology, just called me 'fucknuts'.
"What are fucknuts anyway?"
"No idea. So here you go, perp. You know what you need to do?"
"I have an idea."
A face pops up. Well, what resembles a face. Covered in cybernetic enhancements and tattoos, what must have once been a woman.
"We have a slight problem in the docking district. Our informant is providing Precinct 3 with a little too much information and we need to plug the leak."
"Uh, aren't all you cops?"
An automated laugh. Ho Ho Ho Ha Ha Ha
"We may all be cops but this is about budget. If we don't have a monopoly on handling smugglers we won't get enough money for the annual Christmas party."
Ah. Got it. Why does it always come back to money?
"You coming with me, rectangle?"
"You bet your ass I am!"
In the pocket.
"You need a shower, friend."
"You don't have a nose, buddy."
"I can analyze my environment, guy. Now get fucking going."
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May get another break and add some more soon
r/storiesfromapotato |
A frequent trope used by Lovecraft involves his characters going insane over the course of his stories. I'd like to see the reverse of that. The story you write does not need to be connected to the Lovecraft mythos itself. | [WP] "Reverse Lovecraft": Write from the POV of a character who starts out insane and gradually regains their sanity. | My name is Carter. I'm 33 an accountant, and I used to live a normal life.
That changed when I awoke one night, to a pressure on my mattress and my cheek hot, from the breath of someone else. I leapt out of bed and threw on the lights. What faced me was an empty room. I checked the closet and found it empty, and I assured myself that it was nothing.
That night I slept with the lights on and my door blocked with the heavy chest that normally sat at the foot of my bed.
My paranoia grew when I started to hear the clicking in the vents. The heating vents inside my building were old with a worn copper finish.
On a day in October I heard clicking and a sudden bang. I kneeled down with a flashlight to check to see what was wrong. I froze, for there staring back through the grating were two human eyeballs separated from the skull. Blood had trickled out of the bottom corner of the vent. It was then I heard a sharp single click behind me. I scrambled to my feet and turned toward the sound. As I faced towards it I could hear at the base of the wall the sharp metallic clicking increase and then suddenly stop.
I ran terrified to the phone and dialed the police.
When they arrived, they inspected the vent only to find that in place of eyes, there was one rolled up sock and a rather large piece of lint. There was no trace of the blood that had spilled out earlier. I was left with a warning and two rather hushed remarks about my sanity.
That night I slept with a knife by my bed.
It was a couple of weeks before the next incident, and I had almost forgotten about the clicks. Once more in the middle of the night, I awoke suddenly to hot breath on my cheek. It clicked in my ear and I screamed.
I reached for the knife and slashed blindly towards the thing. It grabbed my feet and started to pull me off the bed. I started stabbing in the dark, hitting not only the thing but also my feet. It's grip tightened, and the clicking got louder.
Suddenly there was a flood of light as my neighbor burst in the door. Illuminating me screaming and completely alone. My feet were mangled and twisted in a bloody blanket, the knife still in my hands.
When the ambulance came, I could still hear the clicking inside the vent. I cried out in desperation and terror, and started thrashing trying to escape. The paramedic held me down and I was stuck with something that made things slowly fade to black.
My Doctor Dr. Nota says that with the proper medications, I will be able to stabilize my mental state. He has however stated that I will never walk again.
While the others come and go, Moses the housekeeper is my only constant.
He brings me meals, and makes sure my bed is made and tidy. Cleans my clothes, and dusts the furniture. Moses is my friend. I love him, in the way that only friends do. But each time he speaks, looking down at me with pity in his sad brown eyes, his starts by gravely saying "How are you today, Carter?"
He knows how I am. Yet he still asks. I am bound to my bed, my feet curled in a twisted mass. I am angry, and I will not stop being angry.
The days have become indistinguishable from each other.
I think I am getting better, but once in awhile I will still hear a click, but now I know that I have to stop it before it begins.
| **Sleigh Bells**
The maddening noises inside my head grew louder by the day. I could not hear my thoughts, my words, or cries. The noise was seldom absent, and it rang its horrible sound from night to day. I heard its screams, its infantile screams. The mad child, I called it, for its lack of candour and awareness. I blamed the world for forsaking me. How could a force be this strong? Why did it want to punish me? In what way did I offend the universe to deserve such a vile fate?
I yearned for an answer, I grew mad waiting. Locked in my quarters, I spent hours, days, months; years toiling for a solution. I wanted an end to the infantile screaming. I wanted to find the source. Countless moments lost due to this…this…sickness of mine. I could hardly contain myself anymore, I was lost, and in need of care. The mad child was winning a war, I was never meant to fight.
After years of dwelling and agonizing pain, I found the source. It was a wretched, grotesque thing. It was an abomination, a horrible mistake made by a mad god, destined to be nothing but a nightmare. I needed help, I had to destroy it, for then there would be an end to the screams. I enlisted my clan and together we would take on the beast.
We rode at night, and fought a great battle. Many were lost, some destroyed in the process. The beast was silenced though. The grotesque, obscene horror was done away with and no more. The ringing stopped, but my sanity was still lost. I rekindled memories of old, the sleigh bells of my youth, the snowy hills I would ride on at night. It gave me warmth, it gave me pride, and most importantly, it gave me myself.
I was well again, the sleigh bells taking over for the screams, and I was finally at peace.
“Margaret…um…that was interesting, where did you get the inspiration for your story?” said my teacher.
“Oh, my dad, he was the main inspiration” I said.
“Did he…hurt you?”
“No, he just snores really loudly, so one night I snuck into his room and put a nose strip on him, really did the trick” I said.
“Okay, well, very imaginative, I think you should see the guidance counsellor after class, but other than that, solid B-“ said my teacher.
“And soon the infernal ringing returned and I was at war once again with the vile creatures of my youth, which had to be vanquished at once.”
“We heard that, Margaret” said Dan.
“Shut up, Dan” I said.
It was a really long English class that day. |
[WP] You have the ability to read minds, as do 5 of your acquaintances. One of these is your crush. | We hardly ever talked. Words seemed a little pointless. Me and my brother Thomas always felt that way growing up. I can remember seeing my mothers head filled with images of worry over our silence. She cared so much, but looking back it was almost a little silly that the most prominent things she had on her mind were a few ill-informed online articles about autism and some vague memories of a movie she had seen.
I pick up images. Not words, images. It took me quite a while to figure our how to read people. It took me even longer to learn not to judge. People think weird shit, they really do. But most of what I see are just involuntary reactions.
Thomas is different. He tried explaining it to me a few times, but I think I‘ll just never fully understand. He says he picks up words. Single words.
We pretty much kept to ourselves for the biggest part of our childhood. Other people just didn‘t make sense. Talking felt pointless. Socializing felt pointless. School felt pointless. Everything felt pointless. Until we met the triplets.
Red Green and Blue. They didn‘t tell us their names, and everything I could pick up from them where these colors, so I ended up just naming them accordingly. The triplets talked even less than me and Thomas, wich was just fine. Getting bombarded with everybodys thoughts makes you appreciate silence.
The five of us were sitting in our favourite café. It usually was empty throughout most parts of the day, and for some reason I never was able to pick anything up from the waitress. No images. She was a mistery. I always assumed that silence was due to her just being focused on work. It was nice.
Five black coffees. Our regular order. The waitress gracefully brought the tablet with our cups to our booth and started passing them out.
She always wore her hair up, so I couldn‘t help but look at her neck. I liked how there always were a few shorter, thin hairs that curled up at the base of her head. She was beautiful. And she smelled so good. I caught a whiff of her scent as she leaned over to collect everybodys money.
When the waitress left, Red started laughing. I looked at her and she gave me a warm smile and raised her left index finger to her temple. It was an invitation.
I saw her thoughts. It was me and the waitress. We were kissing. I was taking off her shirt. Her beautiful brown skin was touching mine. I saw everything.
Red was mirroring. She loved doing that. She didn’t see thoughts, she saw desire.
I blushed. Red’s grin grew even bigger. I pulled out my phone to distract myself from what I felt was emarassing, but it didn’t work. The image of me and the waitress were stuck in my head in a loop.
Maybe some cold water would help. I got up and made my way to the restroom, still trying to get the thoughts out of my head, especially because I still could hear the others giggling about it in the booth.
As I approached the door to the restroom I felt a hand touching my shoulder. It was the waitress. She opened her mouth to talk, then hesitated for a moment. I could tell she was nervous. But then she cleared her throat and spoke.
“I dont think water will help.”
| Sarah looked at me and blushed. The other four looked at me and grinned.
I looked away, ashamed.
My head filled with voices:
*He likes her!*
*Shhh! They can hear us!*
*Good, let them. They need to be together anyway. Sarah needs to stop playing.*
*Sarah? Mike needs to man up and approach her.*
*But how do we know he likes her?*
*Uhh, we just heard him say 'Sarah looks cute today' in his mind.*
*It was just a compliment...It might not mean anything...*
*Oh, stop! Mike says things like this everytime he's around Sarah. He's definitely into her.*
*But, I've never heard Sarah really thinking about Mike like that. Is she even into him?*
The voices stopped. All heads turned to Sarah for an answer - even my own.
She stared at us, then stood up and walked out the room.
I went after her.
| |
Based in fact, inspired by "Leonardo Da Vinci" by Walter Isaacson. Enjoy! | [WP] You open Leonardo Da Vinci's famed journals. He has a list of things he's curious about, things like "describe the tongue of a woodpecker," and "how does a curl of human hair relate to a swirling eddy of water," among these you find one that should absolutely NOT be there. | I flipped through the journal quickly, denting the pages.
"Please, be more careful!" Ms. Andrews, the Administrator of Rare Artifacts, scolded.
I scoffed.
"Don't you care about preserving history? Art? Science?"
"What do you think?" I gestured to my leather jacket, my thigh-high boots. "I'm a private investigator, doing a little bit of drug-dealing and artifact-stealing on the side."
"No! You can't *steal* it --"
I laughed; it echoed off the cold, cement walls of the basement. "Relax, I'm not going to steal it. As soon as I find what I'm looking for, it's all yours."
"What are you looking for? Maybe I can help."
"Oh, I can't tell you. Client confidentiality and all that." I licked my thumb, and turned the page. She squirmed.
"Why am I letting you do this?" she mumbled to herself.
"Because I paid you a million dollars."
Her face went white, and she looked at the ground. "Well, even though you paid me, I can't bear to watch you flip through a great piece of history with such -- irreverence." She walked into the hallway. "Come out when you're done." *Click.*
I flipped through the pages -- drawings of gears, diagrams with triangles. *You'll know it when you see it,* my client's words echoed. *It was crazy enough, that Stan said he had a heart attack when he saw it, and --*
I flicked the page.
My heart skipped a beat.
A drawing of a small, rectangular piece. Two square holes at the top. "Device for Storing Words and Drawings." I began reading the scribbles underneath: "I cannot ever tell which side is up, and which side is down. One should try rotating the device multiple times, inserting it after each attempt."
It was identical to a modern-day USB stick.
I scanned the rest of the page. When I got to the last line, I gasped so loudly that Ms. Andrews came running in.
"The contents of all these pages are the notes and drawings I found on this storage device. I merely transcribed them, to the best of my ability." | It was 3AM and we had just finished clearing the cellar of the heist loot, it was now on it's way to south america.
We had tunnelled under the British Library via the building works at Kings Cross, and made off with over £100 million worth of ancient manuscripts.
Alone now with only a backpack full of money - my share of the loot - I notice a book laying on the ground under the table. They must have forgot one. I bag it, and walk away.
A few days later I am sitting in a coffee shop in New York. The money? Safely invested with a Qatari trading company, giving me the appearance of having made a ridiculously good bet on the stock market. I've just stopped by the post office to pick up my parcel, and I leaf through the ancient tome whilst overlooking the river.
There's a picture of a structure in here, with what looks like drawings of incrementally different designs. And a drawing of of what looks like some kind of pulley contraption. I can't read a word of what's written, so I just flip through and look at the pictures.
At some point I decide to switch directions and start from the back. I let the book fall open at the back, and notice that the cover of the book seems to bulge out a bit on the inside - like the cover was another page, but someone decided to glue it down at some point in the past.
The glue had rotted away at some point, and was now starting to give. Gently, I pulled back the page. I took a sip of my coffee as I stared at the new page, wondering what I should make of it. I didn't speak Italian and I definitely didn't speak backwards Italian, but I would recognise the first drawing anywhere. It was a transistor.
The second drawing I wasn't too sure about. It was clearly electrical, but like nothing I had ever seen before and I work at RS (or at least I did up until the previous week). I don't read Italian - but I recognised a Lorentzian manifold. I'm terrible at math, I just have a keen interest in sci-fi - and this particular bit of math appears in every stupid movie about time travel.
I now had a drawing of a time machine, and three million dollars in my bank account. What to do next? For me, the answer was obvious: build the time machine, go back in time, and start a cult who worshipped me.
Then I would arrive back in current times to find myself loved and revered as a living deity. Wonderful! With this plan in hand I went to radio shack, constructed my time machine, and made my way to Israel.
The plan went perfectly at first. Primitive people were easy to trick, and I barely needed to use any technology. Just an adequate fore knowledge of how they were likely to react. Upon returning to modern day Israel, I moved to enact the second part of my plan.
Finding a large crowd of people, I stood on a nearby wall. "Behold!" I announced "I have returned once more to bring salvation unto humankind!". As I was making this announcement, I heard another voice in the distance saying "For I am the second coming, and all shall. . " the speech was cut short by a yelp, followed by someone yelling "We've got two live ones in the square, bring the van".
I am waiting for the psychiatric nurse to visit, they usually visit twice a day. I'm not sure what happened to the time machine, or the notebook. The last place I saw them was on a wall somewhere in Jerusalem.
|
[WP] A god fell in love with a mortal woman. "I cannot bear to live without you," he told her, "so I will grant you immortality." So he made her a goddess and took her to dwell with him in the realm of the gods, where she met all the other women he couldn't bear to live without. | "And then Zeus turned me into a swan to hide me from Hera. That didn't work for all that long, did it sweetie? Now I'm the Treasurer of our weaver's guild! She and Ariadne and I have a great time planning our annual programs and workshops. You should really get a loom! It's important to have time-consuming hobbies... he likes to leave on trips frequently, sometimes for months at a time..." | "Oh my Me, you're actually pulling a Zeus at this point!" Zephyrus exclaimed, "I honestly won't be shocked if you try your own sisters, with an s, if you ever run out of women 'you can't bear to live without'." He added, clearly going crazy because of the women and the fights they have started fighting over Zairus.
Although Zephyrus *is* a God, he still needs to sleep. But that's the last thing he got because of the women in their house. It was his worst nightmare when another woman came and was shocked to see the *countless* women in the household as sometimes some woman would immediately trash talk that person, causing another fight. This would then result to the younger God not being able to sleep again, as these fights would often last until the next morning. Then, the next morning, the older would bring in another one again, causing more fights and the cycle goes on.
Today, Zairus brought in another woman, one named Andrea. This Andrea isn't special though, there's another Andrea in the house. It has come to that point that the women Zairus brings into the household have a higher chance of having the same name as the one already in the house; and it keeps getting higher and higher.
Another fight ensues and another sleepless night will Zephyrus have to endure.
(This is my first submission on r/writingprompts and I think I didn't do half bad.)
(And yes, these names and events are obviously made up.) | |
[WP] A god fell in love with a mortal woman. "I cannot bear to live without you," he told her, "so I will grant you immortality." So he made her a goddess and took her to dwell with him in the realm of the gods, where she met all the other women he couldn't bear to live without. | When Fanny arrived in the Celestial Kingdom, the place only for exalted gods and goddesses, she realized that Joseph Smith had scammed her. Her heart started beating fast and her brain skipped rapidly between emotions. Anger! How could he do this to her after all he said to her? Did he say those things to other women? Disappointment.. Joseph seemed to have exaggerated the glory of this place. For starters, everyone looked like bakers. The hats, the white clothes, the green aprons..
Self pity. She should have known. She had the thought in the back of her mind already, the thought that now occupied the very front of her mind. Joseph Smith was the most charismatic and good looking man she had ever met. He was a known swindler when they met, but he talked his way around it, just like every other obstacle in his life. Desperation. If Joe Smith was such a con, how is it that the Celestial Kingdom is real? | "Zeusy baby?! Is that you?" asked the in disguise God of wine Bacchus.
From the back of the building, behind the crates of gold and the pillars of pure white marble a noise could be heard.
Bacchus asked a satire to head over there and check out what's going on. The satire named Sam trotted there having a bad feeling. As he passed by the nymphs that were feeding Bacchus with grapes all slutty and cheery he saw his reflection on a golden cup. He though he was really good looking.
The noise as Sam was approaching stopped. A cold sweat run through his face and dripped on the floor. He slowly approached and peaked behind a crate. There he saw a young girl. Barely 16, trying to build a raft.
"Excuse me, but what are you doing there?" asked Sam with a bit of sarcasm.
The girl stopped and turned over. She was crying and her hands were bloody.
"I am trying to escape..." she said.
The satire was startled and almost lost balance. After he regained his stability and cleaned his throat he asked "but why? We have everything here, we are happy, free and cherished by all humans!"
The girl stood up and shook of some small wooden pins from her yellow and dirty skirt. She came closer to the satire and looked offended and pissed from the statement the satire just said. She was also almost double the size of the satire and Sam was intimidated.
"I don't care about all this facede! I just wanna go back to my family!" said the girl.
"You are a goddess, why do you wanna go back to the human world?" asked Sam all the more curiously.
"I miss them all... 2 years ago I was just cleaning my clothes by the river and then I saw a beautiful swan... He approached me and turned to a human. It was Zeus. He freaking raped me there by the river and then he said in my most vulnerable state, that he will take me to Olympus to protect me from sick men. Oh the irony!" said the girl.
Sam was speechless. He knew all the stories about Zeus and his hornyness, but he wasn't sure if that was an inside joke between the gods. And now just in front of him there was this young girl saying she was raped and then abducted by the father of all gods.
"fuck... OK I am gonna help you escape. I may be a satire, but at least I'm descent. My name is Sam, what's your?" asked Sam.
"My name is Ione. OK I need some of this wooden crates, can you go and distract the gods for a while Sam?"
"Only Bacchus is here, he is my pal no problem!" said Sam sincerely.
Sam went back to the room where Bacchus was. He already was making love and drinking with the nymphs. Sam went to join but Bacchus pushed him away "Go away you ugly satire!". Sam was angry but stayed calm mumbling that he was not ugly and that his name was Sam.
Sam was about to fall asleep sitting at the ground near the door to the room when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He was startled and made a goat bleet. The hand muffled him and turned him around. It was Ione making a shhh gesture.
"Follow me" she said
Sam and Ione passed through a corridor and then entered the room where they met. There he saw an amazing small boat with a sail. Ione was smiling at him while proudly showing him the boat.
"Wow! How the-" Sam was interrupted by Ione who took a small piece of wood on her hand and turned it into a small wooden boat. "Freaking gods! All of you have this weird powers..."
"I don't want them. I dunno why the rest of the rape victims by Zeus don't talk and obey him. I can't. The price I paid was bigger... Anyhow, now we need a way to go to the river that leads down to the human civilization. That is after the nymphs platue." said Ione.
"The fucking nymphs again! I hate those bitches!" said Sam with anger while stomping his hoofs.
"I smell of a feud?" said Ione ironically.
"Who likes to be called an ugly goat by his God cause he isn't a fucking slut?" said Sam.
"Bacchus called you that? What's wrong with this gods?!!" said Ione and continued "I have an idea! Let's organize for them an orgy party and leave while they are having fun!"
"I never said I will follow you..." said sam
"But Sam, you prefer staying here and be a punch bag for the gods?" said Ione with sorrow.
Sam stomped his hoofs and bleeted. "I am going to start the party. See you here in 4 hours. Be ready!"
That afternoon all the gods and magical beings living in Olympus were raving at the tunes of Apollos lyre. No one even looked or talked with the organizer Sam. He left early and went to his small house next to the stables. He picked up his favorite flute and some ambrosia and left. He entered the stables. Inside he opened one of the cages and tmbrought out 2 boars that Artemis had captured. He leashed them and took them to the meeting point.
Ione was waiting for him there. When she saw him she stood up and smiled and waived. Once he approached she hugged him and thanked him with a kiss. Sam turned red and his small goat tail was going crazy while he was bleeding excited.
"Thank you Sam." said Ione.
"No problem Ione. Can you make a carriege with wheels for the boat? I borrowed this animals from Artemis. They are strong so it's gonna be easy to carry the boat this way to the river." said Sam.
"Sam you're so smart!" said Ione while starting to use her powers to make the carriege.
After 20 minutes they were on their way through the nymphs platue. They went past the empty nymphs houses with their blue roofs and firefly lights. They crossed the small pond where the swans were sleeping and the frogs were croaking in a recital for the deaf. Sam threw a rock at them but they got furious and started croaking even more aggressive. Then silence. The stars stopped twinkling in the sky, the trees stopped waving with the wind. The air got cold and breathing was hard. Sam and Ione looked at each other scared to death. They saw in front of them a dark figure blocking their way. They stopped. The figure approached them. He was wearing a black silky robe with the hood covering his face. You could see flames where the eyes were supposed to be. He smelled and hisses at them. He approach Ione and touched her with a skeletal cold hand. Sam stomped him with his hoofs. The guy turned and looked at him. He took of his hood and then Sam saw a skeletons skull with flames everywhere. Ione touched him and he turned back at her. His fires deminished.
"The girl you are looking for is with the rest on the party. I am not Persephone blind Pluto!" She took both of his hands and led then threw her whole body. Sam looked at her, she looked scared, disgusted and violated. "Now go! Go find her!"
Sam was looking both of them without being able to move. Pluto left towards the party. They continued and reached the river. They threw the boat in and Ione jumped in ready to leave. She looked at Sam eagerly.
"Ione you are really brave and I'm not. Though I wanna help you anyway that I can." Sam said.
Ione smiled "Jump in Sam!"
They both went down the mountain threw the river holding hands. Ready for their new lives among the humans.
~20 years later somewhere in Athens at the underground headquarters of Humans Against Gods (H.A.G.)
"Ione, there seems to be an activity at the pond of sparte, we should go!" said Sam while holding a bat with nails and wearing a chain mail.
Ione looked up at Sam and out of thin air produced a golden light that turned into a Pegasus horse. They climbed on it and flew off, passed through the Parthenon and over Athens going west towards Sparta. "We won't let the freaking gods do what they plead any more Sam! It's time to fight back for humanity!" Ione shouted.
At the Pond near Sparta Leda queen to the king of Sparta Tyndarus and the most beautiful lady around Greece was about to take a bath while Zeus at the top of Mount Taygetus, was turning into a Swan to do his evil deed...
| |
[WP] A god fell in love with a mortal woman. "I cannot bear to live without you," he told her, "so I will grant you immortality." So he made her a goddess and took her to dwell with him in the realm of the gods, where she met all the other women he couldn't bear to live without. | Davis coughed blood as the small boy kicked his guts, he fell to the ground trying to keep the little demons at bay by thrashing around with his hands and legs, but it was no use they were too fast, too strong and he was weak, old and hungry. they kicked, punched, hit him with a bat, spit on him, peed on him, mocked him, defiled him. Until one of the kids called out to them. The one in charge and with a video camera, he signaled a gasoline can and a lighter that was near his feet, everyone smiled, a savage look on their faces
*No, no, no...!*
I cowered in fear, my friend Davis was going to die, and there was nothing the small me could do, one of them had a gun on his hip, the moment I get out of the trash can I will either be shot or...
"Please, please someone, anyone, please...!" I muttered and repeated the same words over and over again as something moved between my legs, but I didn't spare it a though, I forced my eyes shut and put my hands together in a praying "...Please god, please god, please...!"
The lid of the trash can is forced into my head, the trash can is sealed shut and I'm surrounded by darkness and garbage. Someone was on top of it.
*no way, when did they-*
I heard laughter, and the sound of water being spilled, no. not water, gasoline.
And then a much more frighting sound came, a lighter and then the scream that came afterward accompanied by the cheers, claps and woos of the crowd, I start hyperventilating, all the scents inside the trashcan are filling my nostrils and mouth, making me gag and eventually making me unable to breathe properly.
*I-I'm suffocating!*
There is no way out, due to the excess of trash I can't find room to move around only one hand is free, which I use to try to push the lid up. But is no use, it doesn't budge I hit as hard as I can but it doesn't budge, I try to scream but I can't, my voice is muted.
"he-help...!" I try saying between breaths, but no one listened, not them, not God, no one. All of the monsters were happily seeing the fire pit they just created and listening to the crispy noises it made, the screams of my friend and the laughter of the monsters are the only things I can hear, as I start to lose consciousness due to suffocation.
"G-God...! I-I'll do anything, please..." I spat, as the last bit of strength left my body, and as a brown liquid streamed down my body and entered my eyes and mouth "save my friend! Save Davis!"
Davis's screams stopped, the laughter of the monsters stopped, I couldn't hear anything anymore, I couldn't smell anything anymore, I couldn't taste anything anymore, I couldn't see anything anymore. It was much darker than before even though it shouldn't be possible.
And then, I couldn't *feel* anything anymore
***
Head, neck, hands, stomach, and legs. I slowly start to gain consciousness again and feel the movement of my body parts, the heat of my body as I laid on the concrete ground of a forgotten alleyway filled with trash and the noises of the night. But not cars, not music, not people talking, arguing or fighting. All I could hear was the noise of a rat, a big one, very close to my position.
"It's alright Marisa, my princess," said a deep voice between squeaking and hissing. A putrid smell filled the air. It was on a whole other level, completely different from the trash can "no one will hurt you anymore, you're safe"
I look at the direction of the voice, a huge brownish rat with red eyes, with a size much bigger than mine, and with limbs so long they could be a dog's stood in front of me, his skin was rotten and destroyed in various places and I could see small rats congregating around it and some more in the distance gnawing at the bodies of the monsters who burned my friend. They were laying down in a pool of their own blood and insides.
"...ah....ah"
"what is it, my princess?"
The Rat hissed, but the voice didn't sound angry or in pain, he wasn't even moving his mouth when he spoke, what is he, what is going on? I started trembling, fear and confusion were enveloping me like a tight hug to my insides.
"Am-am I dead? is this hell?" I noticed something perch in one of the railings above, in the building in front of us. It was a tall and dark figure with wings. The Rat laughed.
"No." the Rat stated "you are not dead, and you never will. I made sure of that when I inserted my *seed* inside of you"
Seed? he points at my stomach with his long rotten fingers.
"You were supposed to die today, but I intervened. I just couldn't let my princess die, couldn't I?
"W-what, your princess? why are you calling me that?"
"Because that's what you are, my love" he looks up, at the tall dark figure on the railing, she hops down flapping her wings and lands at the side of the rat, even though she had wings she didn't have any angelic feel to her, her dark claws and peak looked menacing, not to mention her head, like that of a crow "just like her, I'll protect you from this world. I have watched over you all this time just for that reason"
"What, what do you mean?" the Rat kept on talking, the bird-girl was o her*knees* now taking hold of the rat front leg, hugging it and pressing her *breasts* against it
"from the moment you were born, from the moment you spoke for the first time, your first steps, the first time you went to the bathroom alone, your first time at school " The Rat kept on talking, his tail waging in the air and small rats encircling me, talking about my life like he had experienced himself, even mentioning stuff I wasn't aware of and stuff I wished I could have left behind "the first time you hyperventilated, trapped in a school locker by some nasty girls and all the pain they brought to your life, the moment your mother died, the moment your father thought you were her and *used* you like he used her, the moment you ran away and...this."
"The moment your life was supposed to end," the Rat said, I wasn't even able to form a response. but something he said brought me back to reality, it reminded me of the person who saved me from the dangers of the street, the only person who truly cared for me.
"...We-where is Davis?" I said, trying to give courage to my voice, but it came out trembling and as a whisper, still, he heard me loud and clear.
"That man" he points at corner nearby hissing, his long tail hitting the ground "what's left of him is over there"
I ran towards him, the smell of burned meat getting stronger with every step, some rat were around him, not biting him just looking, that ran away when I got close, I shook Davis one, two, three times, called out to him but he didn't.
"wh-"
"He's still alive" cooed the bird-girl, she appeared suddenly in front of me with a flap of her wings, her appearance was so sudden that it made me jolt, but I tried my best to remain brave and...sane
"Why didn't you save us earlier? w-w-why didn't you come before-"
The Rat approached us, crushing some of the small rats in its way "I was waiting... for you to call out to me, for the moment where your death was approaching and I could make you *mine*"
"w-what...?" what he said brought more confusion, more fear, and then *anger*.
"Rejoice, Marisa, the Rotten God's transformation will begin soon and we will become family!" cooed the bird-girl, pushing one of her claws at my stomach, so strongly it made me fall to the ground, the Rat growled at her making her fly away and keep her distance.
*Rotten God?*
"Let us go, there is a limited amount of time I can warp reality and stay in this realm," he said between a loud squeak, he was so close, his rotten smell was making me gag and tears were streaming down my face, a jolt of electricity goes through my brain as he licks my tears.
"Come, your sisters are waiting..."
***
[r/Onni21](https://www.reddit.com/r/Onni21/) | "Zeusy baby?! Is that you?" asked the in disguise God of wine Bacchus.
From the back of the building, behind the crates of gold and the pillars of pure white marble a noise could be heard.
Bacchus asked a satire to head over there and check out what's going on. The satire named Sam trotted there having a bad feeling. As he passed by the nymphs that were feeding Bacchus with grapes all slutty and cheery he saw his reflection on a golden cup. He though he was really good looking.
The noise as Sam was approaching stopped. A cold sweat run through his face and dripped on the floor. He slowly approached and peaked behind a crate. There he saw a young girl. Barely 16, trying to build a raft.
"Excuse me, but what are you doing there?" asked Sam with a bit of sarcasm.
The girl stopped and turned over. She was crying and her hands were bloody.
"I am trying to escape..." she said.
The satire was startled and almost lost balance. After he regained his stability and cleaned his throat he asked "but why? We have everything here, we are happy, free and cherished by all humans!"
The girl stood up and shook of some small wooden pins from her yellow and dirty skirt. She came closer to the satire and looked offended and pissed from the statement the satire just said. She was also almost double the size of the satire and Sam was intimidated.
"I don't care about all this facede! I just wanna go back to my family!" said the girl.
"You are a goddess, why do you wanna go back to the human world?" asked Sam all the more curiously.
"I miss them all... 2 years ago I was just cleaning my clothes by the river and then I saw a beautiful swan... He approached me and turned to a human. It was Zeus. He freaking raped me there by the river and then he said in my most vulnerable state, that he will take me to Olympus to protect me from sick men. Oh the irony!" said the girl.
Sam was speechless. He knew all the stories about Zeus and his hornyness, but he wasn't sure if that was an inside joke between the gods. And now just in front of him there was this young girl saying she was raped and then abducted by the father of all gods.
"fuck... OK I am gonna help you escape. I may be a satire, but at least I'm descent. My name is Sam, what's your?" asked Sam.
"My name is Ione. OK I need some of this wooden crates, can you go and distract the gods for a while Sam?"
"Only Bacchus is here, he is my pal no problem!" said Sam sincerely.
Sam went back to the room where Bacchus was. He already was making love and drinking with the nymphs. Sam went to join but Bacchus pushed him away "Go away you ugly satire!". Sam was angry but stayed calm mumbling that he was not ugly and that his name was Sam.
Sam was about to fall asleep sitting at the ground near the door to the room when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He was startled and made a goat bleet. The hand muffled him and turned him around. It was Ione making a shhh gesture.
"Follow me" she said
Sam and Ione passed through a corridor and then entered the room where they met. There he saw an amazing small boat with a sail. Ione was smiling at him while proudly showing him the boat.
"Wow! How the-" Sam was interrupted by Ione who took a small piece of wood on her hand and turned it into a small wooden boat. "Freaking gods! All of you have this weird powers..."
"I don't want them. I dunno why the rest of the rape victims by Zeus don't talk and obey him. I can't. The price I paid was bigger... Anyhow, now we need a way to go to the river that leads down to the human civilization. That is after the nymphs platue." said Ione.
"The fucking nymphs again! I hate those bitches!" said Sam with anger while stomping his hoofs.
"I smell of a feud?" said Ione ironically.
"Who likes to be called an ugly goat by his God cause he isn't a fucking slut?" said Sam.
"Bacchus called you that? What's wrong with this gods?!!" said Ione and continued "I have an idea! Let's organize for them an orgy party and leave while they are having fun!"
"I never said I will follow you..." said sam
"But Sam, you prefer staying here and be a punch bag for the gods?" said Ione with sorrow.
Sam stomped his hoofs and bleeted. "I am going to start the party. See you here in 4 hours. Be ready!"
That afternoon all the gods and magical beings living in Olympus were raving at the tunes of Apollos lyre. No one even looked or talked with the organizer Sam. He left early and went to his small house next to the stables. He picked up his favorite flute and some ambrosia and left. He entered the stables. Inside he opened one of the cages and tmbrought out 2 boars that Artemis had captured. He leashed them and took them to the meeting point.
Ione was waiting for him there. When she saw him she stood up and smiled and waived. Once he approached she hugged him and thanked him with a kiss. Sam turned red and his small goat tail was going crazy while he was bleeding excited.
"Thank you Sam." said Ione.
"No problem Ione. Can you make a carriege with wheels for the boat? I borrowed this animals from Artemis. They are strong so it's gonna be easy to carry the boat this way to the river." said Sam.
"Sam you're so smart!" said Ione while starting to use her powers to make the carriege.
After 20 minutes they were on their way through the nymphs platue. They went past the empty nymphs houses with their blue roofs and firefly lights. They crossed the small pond where the swans were sleeping and the frogs were croaking in a recital for the deaf. Sam threw a rock at them but they got furious and started croaking even more aggressive. Then silence. The stars stopped twinkling in the sky, the trees stopped waving with the wind. The air got cold and breathing was hard. Sam and Ione looked at each other scared to death. They saw in front of them a dark figure blocking their way. They stopped. The figure approached them. He was wearing a black silky robe with the hood covering his face. You could see flames where the eyes were supposed to be. He smelled and hisses at them. He approach Ione and touched her with a skeletal cold hand. Sam stomped him with his hoofs. The guy turned and looked at him. He took of his hood and then Sam saw a skeletons skull with flames everywhere. Ione touched him and he turned back at her. His fires deminished.
"The girl you are looking for is with the rest on the party. I am not Persephone blind Pluto!" She took both of his hands and led then threw her whole body. Sam looked at her, she looked scared, disgusted and violated. "Now go! Go find her!"
Sam was looking both of them without being able to move. Pluto left towards the party. They continued and reached the river. They threw the boat in and Ione jumped in ready to leave. She looked at Sam eagerly.
"Ione you are really brave and I'm not. Though I wanna help you anyway that I can." Sam said.
Ione smiled "Jump in Sam!"
They both went down the mountain threw the river holding hands. Ready for their new lives among the humans.
~20 years later somewhere in Athens at the underground headquarters of Humans Against Gods (H.A.G.)
"Ione, there seems to be an activity at the pond of sparte, we should go!" said Sam while holding a bat with nails and wearing a chain mail.
Ione looked up at Sam and out of thin air produced a golden light that turned into a Pegasus horse. They climbed on it and flew off, passed through the Parthenon and over Athens going west towards Sparta. "We won't let the freaking gods do what they plead any more Sam! It's time to fight back for humanity!" Ione shouted.
At the Pond near Sparta Leda queen to the king of Sparta Tyndarus and the most beautiful lady around Greece was about to take a bath while Zeus at the top of Mount Taygetus, was turning into a Swan to do his evil deed...
| |
[WP] A god fell in love with a mortal woman. "I cannot bear to live without you," he told her, "so I will grant you immortality." So he made her a goddess and took her to dwell with him in the realm of the gods, where she met all the other women he couldn't bear to live without. | *She had her hands wrist deep in mud.*
Her fingers worried some lost root
That had the owner breathless, caught
The flowers grew misshapen, blue
The air in their gasping mouths, taut
Lines of leaves dying in vain,
Holding no sustenance, the tree
Was dying, rotting inside out,
She knelt at its graveside, to free
The tendril of forgotten life
That somewhere in its belly coiled
I found her, hands wrist deep in mud
Pale face streaked damp with hopeful soil
That harbored yet an aching cry
No one had stopped, no one had heard
This lone slip of a girl had stopped
Forlorn on her way, and turned
I touched her shoulder and she stilled
Had she not, frenzied, seen me come?
Her quivering lip gave me answer
Blind eyes, whimpering lips struck dumb
A milky stare that I could look through
A mind of endless blackened depths
But for its confused rolling mass of sensation
Less, not more lightless
I reached a finger to her face
I passed through her, I took her with
The tree would stand, as is, dying,
No more dead tomorrow, and no less
This jewel in the tattered smock
Babbling, incoherent beggar girl
Glowed like an ember in gray dust
She deserved more than this lost world
I took her home, across the veil
As her feet grew into the tree
The next one to stop to help her
Next worthy of my love will be
For now, her fingers dance in clay
That grows itself along her veins
The lidless stare shines benevolent
As queen on her new throne she reigns
What am I but a collector?
A bored god seeking shiny stones
Stray bits of burning humanity
To flesh the rock of my cold home
All the beautiful ones live here
Small goddesses, nurtured and loved
That I could save from that lost mass
of meat and thought I’ve no use of
I am but almost all entombed
Cut off by these walled in souls who
Are all I’ll take to my slumber
These invisible beautiful women, too
Fragile to leave on that cold earth
Amidst the hungry, ravenous beasts
Monsters I am too tired to fight
Creatures I’ve abandoned to their feasts
I am surrounded by fireflies
The last dredges of purity
The chipped pieces of my images
That hold vestiges of mercy
Each one I loved, each one I saved,
Each one who in turn now save me,
Each one who stopped one a rainy night
To help a scared, suffocating tree
| "Zeusy baby?! Is that you?" asked the in disguise God of wine Bacchus.
From the back of the building, behind the crates of gold and the pillars of pure white marble a noise could be heard.
Bacchus asked a satire to head over there and check out what's going on. The satire named Sam trotted there having a bad feeling. As he passed by the nymphs that were feeding Bacchus with grapes all slutty and cheery he saw his reflection on a golden cup. He though he was really good looking.
The noise as Sam was approaching stopped. A cold sweat run through his face and dripped on the floor. He slowly approached and peaked behind a crate. There he saw a young girl. Barely 16, trying to build a raft.
"Excuse me, but what are you doing there?" asked Sam with a bit of sarcasm.
The girl stopped and turned over. She was crying and her hands were bloody.
"I am trying to escape..." she said.
The satire was startled and almost lost balance. After he regained his stability and cleaned his throat he asked "but why? We have everything here, we are happy, free and cherished by all humans!"
The girl stood up and shook of some small wooden pins from her yellow and dirty skirt. She came closer to the satire and looked offended and pissed from the statement the satire just said. She was also almost double the size of the satire and Sam was intimidated.
"I don't care about all this facede! I just wanna go back to my family!" said the girl.
"You are a goddess, why do you wanna go back to the human world?" asked Sam all the more curiously.
"I miss them all... 2 years ago I was just cleaning my clothes by the river and then I saw a beautiful swan... He approached me and turned to a human. It was Zeus. He freaking raped me there by the river and then he said in my most vulnerable state, that he will take me to Olympus to protect me from sick men. Oh the irony!" said the girl.
Sam was speechless. He knew all the stories about Zeus and his hornyness, but he wasn't sure if that was an inside joke between the gods. And now just in front of him there was this young girl saying she was raped and then abducted by the father of all gods.
"fuck... OK I am gonna help you escape. I may be a satire, but at least I'm descent. My name is Sam, what's your?" asked Sam.
"My name is Ione. OK I need some of this wooden crates, can you go and distract the gods for a while Sam?"
"Only Bacchus is here, he is my pal no problem!" said Sam sincerely.
Sam went back to the room where Bacchus was. He already was making love and drinking with the nymphs. Sam went to join but Bacchus pushed him away "Go away you ugly satire!". Sam was angry but stayed calm mumbling that he was not ugly and that his name was Sam.
Sam was about to fall asleep sitting at the ground near the door to the room when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He was startled and made a goat bleet. The hand muffled him and turned him around. It was Ione making a shhh gesture.
"Follow me" she said
Sam and Ione passed through a corridor and then entered the room where they met. There he saw an amazing small boat with a sail. Ione was smiling at him while proudly showing him the boat.
"Wow! How the-" Sam was interrupted by Ione who took a small piece of wood on her hand and turned it into a small wooden boat. "Freaking gods! All of you have this weird powers..."
"I don't want them. I dunno why the rest of the rape victims by Zeus don't talk and obey him. I can't. The price I paid was bigger... Anyhow, now we need a way to go to the river that leads down to the human civilization. That is after the nymphs platue." said Ione.
"The fucking nymphs again! I hate those bitches!" said Sam with anger while stomping his hoofs.
"I smell of a feud?" said Ione ironically.
"Who likes to be called an ugly goat by his God cause he isn't a fucking slut?" said Sam.
"Bacchus called you that? What's wrong with this gods?!!" said Ione and continued "I have an idea! Let's organize for them an orgy party and leave while they are having fun!"
"I never said I will follow you..." said sam
"But Sam, you prefer staying here and be a punch bag for the gods?" said Ione with sorrow.
Sam stomped his hoofs and bleeted. "I am going to start the party. See you here in 4 hours. Be ready!"
That afternoon all the gods and magical beings living in Olympus were raving at the tunes of Apollos lyre. No one even looked or talked with the organizer Sam. He left early and went to his small house next to the stables. He picked up his favorite flute and some ambrosia and left. He entered the stables. Inside he opened one of the cages and tmbrought out 2 boars that Artemis had captured. He leashed them and took them to the meeting point.
Ione was waiting for him there. When she saw him she stood up and smiled and waived. Once he approached she hugged him and thanked him with a kiss. Sam turned red and his small goat tail was going crazy while he was bleeding excited.
"Thank you Sam." said Ione.
"No problem Ione. Can you make a carriege with wheels for the boat? I borrowed this animals from Artemis. They are strong so it's gonna be easy to carry the boat this way to the river." said Sam.
"Sam you're so smart!" said Ione while starting to use her powers to make the carriege.
After 20 minutes they were on their way through the nymphs platue. They went past the empty nymphs houses with their blue roofs and firefly lights. They crossed the small pond where the swans were sleeping and the frogs were croaking in a recital for the deaf. Sam threw a rock at them but they got furious and started croaking even more aggressive. Then silence. The stars stopped twinkling in the sky, the trees stopped waving with the wind. The air got cold and breathing was hard. Sam and Ione looked at each other scared to death. They saw in front of them a dark figure blocking their way. They stopped. The figure approached them. He was wearing a black silky robe with the hood covering his face. You could see flames where the eyes were supposed to be. He smelled and hisses at them. He approach Ione and touched her with a skeletal cold hand. Sam stomped him with his hoofs. The guy turned and looked at him. He took of his hood and then Sam saw a skeletons skull with flames everywhere. Ione touched him and he turned back at her. His fires deminished.
"The girl you are looking for is with the rest on the party. I am not Persephone blind Pluto!" She took both of his hands and led then threw her whole body. Sam looked at her, she looked scared, disgusted and violated. "Now go! Go find her!"
Sam was looking both of them without being able to move. Pluto left towards the party. They continued and reached the river. They threw the boat in and Ione jumped in ready to leave. She looked at Sam eagerly.
"Ione you are really brave and I'm not. Though I wanna help you anyway that I can." Sam said.
Ione smiled "Jump in Sam!"
They both went down the mountain threw the river holding hands. Ready for their new lives among the humans.
~20 years later somewhere in Athens at the underground headquarters of Humans Against Gods (H.A.G.)
"Ione, there seems to be an activity at the pond of sparte, we should go!" said Sam while holding a bat with nails and wearing a chain mail.
Ione looked up at Sam and out of thin air produced a golden light that turned into a Pegasus horse. They climbed on it and flew off, passed through the Parthenon and over Athens going west towards Sparta. "We won't let the freaking gods do what they plead any more Sam! It's time to fight back for humanity!" Ione shouted.
At the Pond near Sparta Leda queen to the king of Sparta Tyndarus and the most beautiful lady around Greece was about to take a bath while Zeus at the top of Mount Taygetus, was turning into a Swan to do his evil deed...
| |
[WP] A god fell in love with a mortal woman. "I cannot bear to live without you," he told her, "so I will grant you immortality." So he made her a goddess and took her to dwell with him in the realm of the gods, where she met all the other women he couldn't bear to live without. | "It was not for you to decide", Hermes mumbled quietly as he lead Ares to the gallows at the edge of Mount Olympus. The somber and frightened tone of his voice, cut only by the frantic screeches of mortals arising from the mountain's foot, gave evidence to his deep regret and their long cameraderie.
Of all the Gods, of all living souls even, Ares had chosen him, Hermes, to confide in.
Of course it was out of convenience, he knew that. Being the Gods' favoured messenger, he was already involved. He often knew more about their mischievious adventures than they themselves - it's this "little perk", as he called it, that he enjoyed most about his position in the Pantheon of Gods. But Ares confiding in him, sharing his most personal thoughts, was completely new. The thoughts of scheming Gods never leave the solitude of their minds, not voluntarily at least, not without being coerced out by other immortal parties taking interest.
And it was shocking, too. Never had such a terriffic secret been revealed before, not to Hermes nor to any other God.
The people that had gathered at dawn beneath the cliffs of the holy mountain were just as shocked, but about something different. They did not understand the intricacies of the divine realm that made this secret of Ares so frightful. They did, however, understand the consequences Ares had to face, as they were announced just the evening before and from the highest of all possible places. Zeus himself appeared before the gasping and frightened villagers, who had just started to celebrate this year's harvest. Envoys were sent to all of Greece as soon as he had disappeared again. The news along with rumors and the wildest speculations spread throughout the known world like a flame engulfing a bale of hay, and by the next morning half of the country had raced to Mount Olympus.
*Ares and his secret lover Abelena were to be stripped of their divinity and exiled to live amongst the Greek. He pleaded for her to be spared, and be himself allowed to die in honour on the sacred mountain amongst Gods. Zeus agreed to let Abelena stay and mercifully decided to hang Ares at the mountain's edge.*
A God to die as a mortal? Hermes could hardly fathom it. But he had to do it, he had to tell Zeus. There was no other way to save his own neck, he absolved himself, as he timidly waited for Ares to say something in return.
"It was not for you to tell", Ares replied without a shred of anger. "But I know that I should have asked Zeus before I let my Abelena on the mountain and made her a Godess", he continued calmly. "I gave her eternal life and now it will cost me mine."
Edit: I forgot half of the prompt as I was writing, but I'll leave it as it is - even if there's no other women in the story.
| "Zeusy baby?! Is that you?" asked the in disguise God of wine Bacchus.
From the back of the building, behind the crates of gold and the pillars of pure white marble a noise could be heard.
Bacchus asked a satire to head over there and check out what's going on. The satire named Sam trotted there having a bad feeling. As he passed by the nymphs that were feeding Bacchus with grapes all slutty and cheery he saw his reflection on a golden cup. He though he was really good looking.
The noise as Sam was approaching stopped. A cold sweat run through his face and dripped on the floor. He slowly approached and peaked behind a crate. There he saw a young girl. Barely 16, trying to build a raft.
"Excuse me, but what are you doing there?" asked Sam with a bit of sarcasm.
The girl stopped and turned over. She was crying and her hands were bloody.
"I am trying to escape..." she said.
The satire was startled and almost lost balance. After he regained his stability and cleaned his throat he asked "but why? We have everything here, we are happy, free and cherished by all humans!"
The girl stood up and shook of some small wooden pins from her yellow and dirty skirt. She came closer to the satire and looked offended and pissed from the statement the satire just said. She was also almost double the size of the satire and Sam was intimidated.
"I don't care about all this facede! I just wanna go back to my family!" said the girl.
"You are a goddess, why do you wanna go back to the human world?" asked Sam all the more curiously.
"I miss them all... 2 years ago I was just cleaning my clothes by the river and then I saw a beautiful swan... He approached me and turned to a human. It was Zeus. He freaking raped me there by the river and then he said in my most vulnerable state, that he will take me to Olympus to protect me from sick men. Oh the irony!" said the girl.
Sam was speechless. He knew all the stories about Zeus and his hornyness, but he wasn't sure if that was an inside joke between the gods. And now just in front of him there was this young girl saying she was raped and then abducted by the father of all gods.
"fuck... OK I am gonna help you escape. I may be a satire, but at least I'm descent. My name is Sam, what's your?" asked Sam.
"My name is Ione. OK I need some of this wooden crates, can you go and distract the gods for a while Sam?"
"Only Bacchus is here, he is my pal no problem!" said Sam sincerely.
Sam went back to the room where Bacchus was. He already was making love and drinking with the nymphs. Sam went to join but Bacchus pushed him away "Go away you ugly satire!". Sam was angry but stayed calm mumbling that he was not ugly and that his name was Sam.
Sam was about to fall asleep sitting at the ground near the door to the room when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He was startled and made a goat bleet. The hand muffled him and turned him around. It was Ione making a shhh gesture.
"Follow me" she said
Sam and Ione passed through a corridor and then entered the room where they met. There he saw an amazing small boat with a sail. Ione was smiling at him while proudly showing him the boat.
"Wow! How the-" Sam was interrupted by Ione who took a small piece of wood on her hand and turned it into a small wooden boat. "Freaking gods! All of you have this weird powers..."
"I don't want them. I dunno why the rest of the rape victims by Zeus don't talk and obey him. I can't. The price I paid was bigger... Anyhow, now we need a way to go to the river that leads down to the human civilization. That is after the nymphs platue." said Ione.
"The fucking nymphs again! I hate those bitches!" said Sam with anger while stomping his hoofs.
"I smell of a feud?" said Ione ironically.
"Who likes to be called an ugly goat by his God cause he isn't a fucking slut?" said Sam.
"Bacchus called you that? What's wrong with this gods?!!" said Ione and continued "I have an idea! Let's organize for them an orgy party and leave while they are having fun!"
"I never said I will follow you..." said sam
"But Sam, you prefer staying here and be a punch bag for the gods?" said Ione with sorrow.
Sam stomped his hoofs and bleeted. "I am going to start the party. See you here in 4 hours. Be ready!"
That afternoon all the gods and magical beings living in Olympus were raving at the tunes of Apollos lyre. No one even looked or talked with the organizer Sam. He left early and went to his small house next to the stables. He picked up his favorite flute and some ambrosia and left. He entered the stables. Inside he opened one of the cages and tmbrought out 2 boars that Artemis had captured. He leashed them and took them to the meeting point.
Ione was waiting for him there. When she saw him she stood up and smiled and waived. Once he approached she hugged him and thanked him with a kiss. Sam turned red and his small goat tail was going crazy while he was bleeding excited.
"Thank you Sam." said Ione.
"No problem Ione. Can you make a carriege with wheels for the boat? I borrowed this animals from Artemis. They are strong so it's gonna be easy to carry the boat this way to the river." said Sam.
"Sam you're so smart!" said Ione while starting to use her powers to make the carriege.
After 20 minutes they were on their way through the nymphs platue. They went past the empty nymphs houses with their blue roofs and firefly lights. They crossed the small pond where the swans were sleeping and the frogs were croaking in a recital for the deaf. Sam threw a rock at them but they got furious and started croaking even more aggressive. Then silence. The stars stopped twinkling in the sky, the trees stopped waving with the wind. The air got cold and breathing was hard. Sam and Ione looked at each other scared to death. They saw in front of them a dark figure blocking their way. They stopped. The figure approached them. He was wearing a black silky robe with the hood covering his face. You could see flames where the eyes were supposed to be. He smelled and hisses at them. He approach Ione and touched her with a skeletal cold hand. Sam stomped him with his hoofs. The guy turned and looked at him. He took of his hood and then Sam saw a skeletons skull with flames everywhere. Ione touched him and he turned back at her. His fires deminished.
"The girl you are looking for is with the rest on the party. I am not Persephone blind Pluto!" She took both of his hands and led then threw her whole body. Sam looked at her, she looked scared, disgusted and violated. "Now go! Go find her!"
Sam was looking both of them without being able to move. Pluto left towards the party. They continued and reached the river. They threw the boat in and Ione jumped in ready to leave. She looked at Sam eagerly.
"Ione you are really brave and I'm not. Though I wanna help you anyway that I can." Sam said.
Ione smiled "Jump in Sam!"
They both went down the mountain threw the river holding hands. Ready for their new lives among the humans.
~20 years later somewhere in Athens at the underground headquarters of Humans Against Gods (H.A.G.)
"Ione, there seems to be an activity at the pond of sparte, we should go!" said Sam while holding a bat with nails and wearing a chain mail.
Ione looked up at Sam and out of thin air produced a golden light that turned into a Pegasus horse. They climbed on it and flew off, passed through the Parthenon and over Athens going west towards Sparta. "We won't let the freaking gods do what they plead any more Sam! It's time to fight back for humanity!" Ione shouted.
At the Pond near Sparta Leda queen to the king of Sparta Tyndarus and the most beautiful lady around Greece was about to take a bath while Zeus at the top of Mount Taygetus, was turning into a Swan to do his evil deed...
| |
[WP] A god fell in love with a mortal woman. "I cannot bear to live without you," he told her, "so I will grant you immortality." So he made her a goddess and took her to dwell with him in the realm of the gods, where she met all the other women he couldn't bear to live without. | Davis coughed blood as the small boy kicked his guts, he fell to the ground trying to keep the little demons at bay by thrashing around with his hands and legs, but it was no use they were too fast, too strong and he was weak, old and hungry. they kicked, punched, hit him with a bat, spit on him, peed on him, mocked him, defiled him. Until one of the kids called out to them. The one in charge and with a video camera, he signaled a gasoline can and a lighter that was near his feet, everyone smiled, a savage look on their faces
*No, no, no...!*
I cowered in fear, my friend Davis was going to die, and there was nothing the small me could do, one of them had a gun on his hip, the moment I get out of the trash can I will either be shot or...
"Please, please someone, anyone, please...!" I muttered and repeated the same words over and over again as something moved between my legs, but I didn't spare it a though, I forced my eyes shut and put my hands together in a praying "...Please god, please god, please...!"
The lid of the trash can is forced into my head, the trash can is sealed shut and I'm surrounded by darkness and garbage. Someone was on top of it.
*no way, when did they-*
I heard laughter, and the sound of water being spilled, no. not water, gasoline.
And then a much more frighting sound came, a lighter and then the scream that came afterward accompanied by the cheers, claps and woos of the crowd, I start hyperventilating, all the scents inside the trashcan are filling my nostrils and mouth, making me gag and eventually making me unable to breathe properly.
*I-I'm suffocating!*
There is no way out, due to the excess of trash I can't find room to move around only one hand is free, which I use to try to push the lid up. But is no use, it doesn't budge I hit as hard as I can but it doesn't budge, I try to scream but I can't, my voice is muted.
"he-help...!" I try saying between breaths, but no one listened, not them, not God, no one. All of the monsters were happily seeing the fire pit they just created and listening to the crispy noises it made, the screams of my friend and the laughter of the monsters are the only things I can hear, as I start to lose consciousness due to suffocation.
"G-God...! I-I'll do anything, please..." I spat, as the last bit of strength left my body, and as a brown liquid streamed down my body and entered my eyes and mouth "save my friend! Save Davis!"
Davis's screams stopped, the laughter of the monsters stopped, I couldn't hear anything anymore, I couldn't smell anything anymore, I couldn't taste anything anymore, I couldn't see anything anymore. It was much darker than before even though it shouldn't be possible.
And then, I couldn't *feel* anything anymore
***
Head, neck, hands, stomach, and legs. I slowly start to gain consciousness again and feel the movement of my body parts, the heat of my body as I laid on the concrete ground of a forgotten alleyway filled with trash and the noises of the night. But not cars, not music, not people talking, arguing or fighting. All I could hear was the noise of a rat, a big one, very close to my position.
"It's alright Marisa, my princess," said a deep voice between squeaking and hissing. A putrid smell filled the air. It was on a whole other level, completely different from the trash can "no one will hurt you anymore, you're safe"
I look at the direction of the voice, a huge brownish rat with red eyes, with a size much bigger than mine, and with limbs so long they could be a dog's stood in front of me, his skin was rotten and destroyed in various places and I could see small rats congregating around it and some more in the distance gnawing at the bodies of the monsters who burned my friend. They were laying down in a pool of their own blood and insides.
"...ah....ah"
"what is it, my princess?"
The Rat hissed, but the voice didn't sound angry or in pain, he wasn't even moving his mouth when he spoke, what is he, what is going on? I started trembling, fear and confusion were enveloping me like a tight hug to my insides.
"Am-am I dead? is this hell?" I noticed something perch in one of the railings above, in the building in front of us. It was a tall and dark figure with wings. The Rat laughed.
"No." the Rat stated "you are not dead, and you never will. I made sure of that when I inserted my *seed* inside of you"
Seed? he points at my stomach with his long rotten fingers.
"You were supposed to die today, but I intervened. I just couldn't let my princess die, couldn't I?
"W-what, your princess? why are you calling me that?"
"Because that's what you are, my love" he looks up, at the tall dark figure on the railing, she hops down flapping her wings and lands at the side of the rat, even though she had wings she didn't have any angelic feel to her, her dark claws and peak looked menacing, not to mention her head, like that of a crow "just like her, I'll protect you from this world. I have watched over you all this time just for that reason"
"What, what do you mean?" the Rat kept on talking, the bird-girl was o her*knees* now taking hold of the rat front leg, hugging it and pressing her *breasts* against it
"from the moment you were born, from the moment you spoke for the first time, your first steps, the first time you went to the bathroom alone, your first time at school " The Rat kept on talking, his tail waging in the air and small rats encircling me, talking about my life like he had experienced himself, even mentioning stuff I wasn't aware of and stuff I wished I could have left behind "the first time you hyperventilated, trapped in a school locker by some nasty girls and all the pain they brought to your life, the moment your mother died, the moment your father thought you were her and *used* you like he used her, the moment you ran away and...this."
"The moment your life was supposed to end," the Rat said, I wasn't even able to form a response. but something he said brought me back to reality, it reminded me of the person who saved me from the dangers of the street, the only person who truly cared for me.
"...We-where is Davis?" I said, trying to give courage to my voice, but it came out trembling and as a whisper, still, he heard me loud and clear.
"That man" he points at corner nearby hissing, his long tail hitting the ground "what's left of him is over there"
I ran towards him, the smell of burned meat getting stronger with every step, some rat were around him, not biting him just looking, that ran away when I got close, I shook Davis one, two, three times, called out to him but he didn't.
"wh-"
"He's still alive" cooed the bird-girl, she appeared suddenly in front of me with a flap of her wings, her appearance was so sudden that it made me jolt, but I tried my best to remain brave and...sane
"Why didn't you save us earlier? w-w-why didn't you come before-"
The Rat approached us, crushing some of the small rats in its way "I was waiting... for you to call out to me, for the moment where your death was approaching and I could make you *mine*"
"w-what...?" what he said brought more confusion, more fear, and then *anger*.
"Rejoice, Marisa, the Rotten God's transformation will begin soon and we will become family!" cooed the bird-girl, pushing one of her claws at my stomach, so strongly it made me fall to the ground, the Rat growled at her making her fly away and keep her distance.
*Rotten God?*
"Let us go, there is a limited amount of time I can warp reality and stay in this realm," he said between a loud squeak, he was so close, his rotten smell was making me gag and tears were streaming down my face, a jolt of electricity goes through my brain as he licks my tears.
"Come, your sisters are waiting..."
***
[r/Onni21](https://www.reddit.com/r/Onni21/) | When Fanny arrived in the Celestial Kingdom, the place only for exalted gods and goddesses, she realized that Joseph Smith had scammed her. Her heart started beating fast and her brain skipped rapidly between emotions. Anger! How could he do this to her after all he said to her? Did he say those things to other women? Disappointment.. Joseph seemed to have exaggerated the glory of this place. For starters, everyone looked like bakers. The hats, the white clothes, the green aprons..
Self pity. She should have known. She had the thought in the back of her mind already, the thought that now occupied the very front of her mind. Joseph Smith was the most charismatic and good looking man she had ever met. He was a known swindler when they met, but he talked his way around it, just like every other obstacle in his life. Desperation. If Joe Smith was such a con, how is it that the Celestial Kingdom is real? | |
[WP] A god fell in love with a mortal woman. "I cannot bear to live without you," he told her, "so I will grant you immortality." So he made her a goddess and took her to dwell with him in the realm of the gods, where she met all the other women he couldn't bear to live without. | Elena was a matryoshka painter. At sunset, the woodworker Anatoly would knock on the apartment door with his wheelbarrow beside him. Anatoly would give Elena all the plain figurines that he had carved that day, curving the balsam wood into the prospect of a head, shoulders and torso, then cutting the doll at her waist so that her legs would twist off, and hide her secrets. Elena would pay Anatoly five hundred rubles for each full matryoshka and then she would go to her workshop (which was in fact only just the corner of her father's kitchen behind the stove) and she would paint the wood into beautiful women.
Elena would paint the women with long eyelashes and blushing cheeks, and Elena would wonder what it would feel like to blush and flutter her own eyes, if ever a kind and handsome man were to pour vodka into a glass, and hand it to her, letting his fingertips pass over hers. She would paint the women wearing elegant dresses adorned with tulips and roses, and Elena would imagine sewing an elegant silk dress to wear herself. She would give the woman full-hearted smiles, and Elena would try to remember the last time she had smiled, apart from when she meant to attract the customers to her booth at the Udelnaya. And then she would paint the next doll nested within, more intricately, but otherwise the same. However, at their core, Elena's matryoshka contained a protest: open her dolls up to the final girl, the smallest and deepest girl of all, and you will find that she is not smiling or blushing, but instead has short eyelashes and a stern gaze. She wears only a plain grey dress. For though Elena painted matryoshka, she had never known her own mother, and therefore knew that not all daughters will inherit.
In the morning, Elena would pack her matryoshka in a box and take the bus to the Udelnaya, hoping to sell her work. Most days, she would be lucky to sell two or three matryoshka. But there was one day when she sold none at all, yet left the Udelnaya joyful. On that day, a certain tall man in a white dress shirt had come to the market. There, he saw Elena at her booth with the shelves of matryoshka behind her, all red and green, gold and blue, and the man was enamored.
"I have never seen a woman who I am more certain has a secret hiding inside her," the man said to Elena. He was wearing a gold watch and many silver rings. Elena told him that he could buy as many matryoshka as he wished, and discover everything within them. But then the man said the woman he meant to describe was not any of the matryoshka, but Elena herself.
The man gave Elena a piece of paper with directions to an elegant restaurant on the banks of the Moyka River. He he gave her his credit card as well. He told Elena that were she to go buy a nice dress, that he would be honored to see her in it, and dine with her that evening. Elena blushed, and then she smiled, even though she had not sold a matryoshka.
That evening, instead of painting, Elena went to the best boutique in St Petersburg, and she bought a beautiful silk dress. She then met the man at the appointed restaurant. He spread caviar onto crackers for her, and poured her some vodka. He asked her about her life, how many matryoshka she supposed she had painted, and if any were very special to her. But, as the meal continued, Elena began to feel more and more confused and dizzy, until everything became terribly blurry. When Elena awoke, she was no longer in the restaurant or in the small bed beside her father's. She was standing upright, but frozen in pose, perched on a gold podium in a white expanse, more still and desolate than the Tauride Gardens after the first snowfall. Elena was lined up neatly between a hundred other young women, all immobile as well.
"Where am I" Elena asked, "who are you all?"
"That man who gave you a dress and dinner," the young woman beside her explained, "was not in truth a man, but the wicked god of Motherless Girls. He keeps us here as figurines, upon his shelf for all eternity. He tells us that long ago, he once loved a goddess called Anna, who also had no mother, who was the First Woman, and that we remind him of her. When Anna birthed their child, the girl was mortal. So the god sought to kill the child as an abomination. But Anna loved the baby, so she fled the heavens to the Barsky taiga. The god chased her all through the trees, but Anna refused to return, and at last a bargain was struck: she would remain in the Barsky with her daughter, but thereafter Anna would become mortal as well. But, if any of her descendants to ever live without a mother, the god would be entitled to reclaim those girls and bring them here, to remain forever in his collection."
Elena was crestfallen at the thought of never again seeing her father or St Petersburg, and of being frozen in place. She screamed out to the god of Motherless Girls and demanded to be freed. But the god just laughed, all throughout his menagerie.
But then, after many days of considering her plight, Elena formed a plan. "Allow me to turn your collection into matryoshka!," she called out to the god, "Let me separate each of these women into pieces, into clear layers, so that you might consider each part of her more easily, and find what it is in each of us that resembles your beloved Anna!"
Elena's proposal thrilled the god, for even after all his abductions, he was still no closer to grasping what it was that makes a motherless woman so special, so like the First Woman. He released Elena's muscles and demanded that she go to work at once, separating and straining each of his women into a partwise matryoshka.
From where the god watched, it appeared to him Elena was doing as she had promised. But each time his back was turned, or when Elena carefully angled her subject and stood nose to nose, she would reach inside the girl, and she would pull forth her soul, which lives in her deepest layer. Elena would hide the soul in her bosom until she could move on and quietly feed it to another girl, until every girl had taken in the soul of one of her fellow captives. Finally, Elena pulled out her own soul and fed it to the woman whom she had been first placed beside. At last, each captive woman had taken in the soul of another, thereby promising to care for it and nurture it. Because of this, the women of the menagerie had all become mothers to each other, and were no longer in thrall to the selfish god.
The god saw that Elena was no longer hard at work, so he returned to inspect her progress. But as he entered the menagerie, all the captives suddenly broke from their poses. All together, they hit and kicked the god, until he fled. The menagerie with all its gold podiums vanished, and the girls fell through a void, until everything again became blurry. Elena awoke in her small bed in her father's apartment in St Petersburg.
That night, Anatoly came at sunset with the blank wood for Elena. For the first time, she did not paint the final doll with a stern face and grey dress. For now, Elena knew that somewhere there was a woman who would always carry her soul, always nurture and protect it, and that this meant she would always have a mother to inherit from.
| She expected it to be beautiful.
Rolling meadows, fields of wild flowers, the wild scent of fresh lavender and cedar.
"I love you," he would proclaim.
"Your beauty burns, your eyes torture, your body torments me."
Blah, blah, blah.
She'd found him riveting at one point, a young woman drifting through life rather aimlessly, unable to discern a true purpose, but instead filled with an indelible lack of purpose.
Jazz clubs, disco clubs, dance clubs, they all were the same to her now.
A different part of her remembers the draw, the pull towards intoxicants and their inevitable fallout, that heartless love born of mindless lust.
There she met a God.
50s, 60s, 70s, 80s, 90s, the years blew her by.
How he loved her, he claimed. How he needed her, he would croon.
Lust. A woman can live a few lifetimes and still be a fool.
She still remembered, a smoke filled bar shortly after the Japs surrendered, a young man in a tan suit reclining at a restricted table, laughing wildly and drinking liberally as women seemed to fawn over him.
She had found him rather dull. Repulsive, in fact.
Unfortunately, that provoked him into paying attention to her.
First mistake.
Around building corners, at parties, at the fucking grocery store he would appear, always charming and handsome, but somewhat wrong. Always off.
She ignored her instinct and decided to give him a chance.
Second mistake.
He would sing to her, play music to her, recite poems and laud her with praise. A pedestal he placed her upon, which at first seemed delightful. Until his narcissism kicked in.
Don't go here, don't talk to them, stay inside, do what I say.
So a woman refuses.
Then POOF, here comes a God, an OLD God, one who has been long forgotten but beds those who least expect him.
And old Gods carry magic.
She would scorn him, ignore him, beg him to leave her, but he would not. He simply adored her more.
Then the third strike.
He gave her a terminal disease.
He needed her to be in his grasp forever, to always be at his beck and call, to satisfy him whenever he so chose.
Total bullshit. A curse.
She died in a rather unenthusiastic manner, a car T-boned her ass rather well. Instantaneous death. No pain.
She awoke in a tomb, or what seemed to be a tomb. The air held heavy, tasting of copper and cedar, a thick orange smoke pervading the space.
Unable to reason, she crawled forward. She did not know why, but simply complied. The unwillingness of the dead.
She arose, confused and scared, in what appeared to be a metropolis from a different time.
All full of women.
She moved forward, confounded by what she saw, a thousand languages and a million women, all bartering and fighting and scrapping.
An elderly woman, perhaps in her late seventies stopped and stared.
"New here?" she asked, carrying a bundle of something.
A nod in response.
"What a shame."
Shocked silence.
"Shall I show you around?"
A dull nod.
"Come with me, child, and I can tell you how to avoid him."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Wander.
Thin streets, wide streets. Those that smell of roses and thyme, and those that smell of shit and disease.
She is scared and alone here. Dead or undying, she cannot discern. Rather, there is only a sense of dread. A woman deceived through the old trickery of forgotten lords and Gods, those whose names cannot be recalled, but are only remembered by the dead. In a world of mist and blackness, a great hall of missing corpses.
Ahead of her, a woman leads. By hand and wrist she pulls and drags, revealing newer and wider plazas and passages. Somehow, her age is stripped by her movements, every patch of time showing a younger and freer version of this woman. She was someone else, long ago. Someone dead and gone.
The recently dead woman finds herself following a long dead woman, into a passage of columns. Some drip with blood, other with milk and honey. Either way, she knows not to touch the massive pillars of limestone.
Others are meant to lick the sweet and metallic taste of blood.
She finds herself descending, not through stairs but a ramp, flanked by walls of a strange earthy substance. There is not a method of surveillance of any human kind, but the strange eyes of the Gods bore through her nape.
Ambrosia, mead, wine, beer, meat, jerky all blend together, pouring through her nostrils. Those who wander the land of the dead are either damned or blessed. Yet here she wafts, being neither.
The woman places a hand against her cheek, a thin smile cresting over sharpened teeth.
"Those of our beauty must take extraordinary measures."
She reaches below, placing a crown of tangled statuesque snakes upon the woman's head.
"I served my time, as Helen of Troy."
The crown begins to writhe, alive in its own right.
"To hide from his advances, we rely on the power of other Gods."
Wildness through her hair, snakes through her scalp twist among the hairs there. A monster is her reduction. She recalls the fables and myths, but cannot reconcile the reality. Death is eternal. Is she to be a monster for eternity?
Gods of every faith and denomination cannot breach her power, however.
But she finds herself, clutching her knees and weeping. She misses her mother and clouds. She misses her father and brother, her sisters and her friends. She does not want to be dead, she wants to fight this being who has relegated her to this darkness.
Now she can only feel hate and rage, clasping fingertips, almost sensing throats below them, satisfied by the life lost beneath them.
The woman has dissipated into a smoke, but what remains is a being consumed in hate. She did not ask for an Old God, nor did she offer any sacrifice.
The snakes wriggle within her hair, and it makes her happy. Others will submit to this newfound power.
She feels an unremarkable call to the lost metropolis. To fight this Old God, to regain her freedom. To have a life of her own, to find her family and apologize for her sins. She wanted the best for them, but the lust of a Dead God forced her into this state.
Medusa is a weakling, Athena is a cunt.
She is vengeance incarnate, blessed with the power of the unwilling dead.
She will go home.
Her captor will suffer.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
r/storiesfromapotato | |
[WP] "Usually when we first contact a civilization, it is very easy to get them under our banner..." The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though." | On initial observations, the humans appeared to be like any other Class III barbarian race. They had developed technologically sufficiently to care for their old and weak and were the clear dominant race of their planet. Politically, they had developed into more or less stable organizational units, but not so far that they had created any meaningful planetary leadership or efficient shared language and communication. Intellectually and philosophically, they were surprisingly advanced, with large amounts of discussion and theorizing if not mass consensus about ethics, morals and ideas of governance and power, more so than any other Class III species yet observed. Perhaps this should have been our first sign that something was wrong.
There were no deviations from the typical first contact plans. As per protocol for Class III barbarians, heuristic analysis was used to understand the structure and significant subjects of the most common dialects of the planet. Ambassadors were briefed on dialects appropriate to their designated regions and were sent to each major organizational unit of the race. Appropriate to their level of technological development, the Humans had numerous questions first about our technology and origins, then galactic empire and its implications. Typical promises were made regarding the advances in healthcare, technology and commerce that would be made possible by joining the empire. Communication broke down somewhat as negotiations progressed. The Humans seemed fascinated by the idea of taking over or having power in the empire in some capacity that was unclear to our ambassadors. Following negotiation protocols closely, the Humans were reminded repeatedly of the numerous benefits they could expect in the coming years of assimilation, and conversations were directed away from poorly understood areas of the language, at least until a more complete understanding of the language could be reached.
Seeing no clear evidence to the contrary, ambassadors assumed that assimilation was to proceed without further complications, and set about the task of setting up permanent regional offices. Locations were chosen in several major population centers at the Human named settlements of New York, London, Delhi and Tokyo. Embassies were constructed quickly with what materials were typical of human construction to minimize culture shock. Stones, cellulose based organic matter and the metal from one particularly isolated and corroded copper monument were incorporated into buildings intended to serve as convenient access for future Human and empire dealings.
Due to the relatively long lifespan of the Humans, the highest priority of the offices was beginning the process or reeducation of the younger generation so the Humans could be fully integrated into the empire’s commercial workings within the next century. All was proceeding according to plan and within an acceptable timeframe. Then, in the space of a galactic standard hour, seemingly all of the Humans mobilized and conducted a surprise attack on all embassies simultaneously. We were completely unprepared.
No further contact has been attempted at this time. Satellite observation of the planet suggests that human mobilization has further accelerated. Human Industrial, scientific and political activity have all skyrocketed to unprecedented levels. No survivors were successfully extracted from the embassies, and we are thus far in the dark as to the intentions of the spontaneously unified Human race.
-Report summary from Assimilation Operations Commander Cyrus to Empire Incident Command
Edit: a little bit of grammar
| Humanity's fascination with the atom began--unknowingly--with the advent of forging. Turning two metals into one, stronger, metal with the liberal application of heat tended to be a pastime of many human civilizations and empires whenever their neighbors started staring at them a little too long for their liking. From tin and copper, to bronze, to iron, and beyond. Metal and heat. That was the name of the game for thousands of years.
More recently came the hobby of alchemy. That arcane practice of attempting to turn one worthless metal into something which could be marketed as something worth buying; the success of which was sought after by kings and emperors as well as any peasant with a laboratory and some chemicals at his or her disposal. Not by heat alone this time, but by the application of random chemicals and mixtures was one lump of worthless metal turned into a wet lump of worthless metal, probably with the added fun of caustic fumes and deadly reactions to go along with it. From mixing metals for protection to drowning them for possible riches. Few items of interest or note ever came of this practice; but it did help get the ball rolling on the basic sciences, mainly by preserving the desire to discover and explore until the Renaissance.
The basic elements found on their planet began to be noticed, catalogued, and finally organized by their atomic weights. More elements were found and added to their table as the more powerful civilizations took to the oceans to stake their claims on the "wild" continents discovered on the other side of their world, and as scientific methods became more standardized. Of course, as is humanity's method of survival, the discovery of some of these elements led to weapons which soon made the general method of thousands of years of warfare largely obsolete. Those who were unlucky enough to not have discovered these elements and their uses (and there were a lot of civilizations which failed to do so) paid dearly for it by those who did.
And on and on humanity went, discovering more elements and, eventually, creating a few of their own--most of those created only lasted a few microseconds. But when a century of warfare took the humans through that dark time, a few of them were able to light up a small part of their planet--if only for a very short while--with a particularly-heavy element and the wanton smashing of the atomic structure of that element with the neutrons dislodged from other atoms with the application of crushing pressure brought about--first by ramming, then by precise explosions. A city, then two cities, more or less instantly erased from existence, and the notion of war between old powers was suddenly a very unpalatable one. But the threat of one was still there.
This particular weapon was tested again and again, the results growing larger and larger--the end result mostly to get more neutrons to bombard a mass of several heavy elements, resulting in larger explosions. Complex mathematical equations, born from new applications of mathematics and aided with machines that could calculate and solve these equations for these humans in a very short amount of time, dictated how reactions between atomic elements were supposed to happen. And, finally, the humans built a machine which allowed them to gaze upon the atom itself.
By this time, humanity was instantly communicating among itself despite the distances on their planet and on nearby bodies. And humanity progressed still, until someone remembered that old practice of alchemy, wondering if it was finally possible. They had full access to the atom--no matter the element. All they would have to do is either add or take away the protons, neutrons, or electrons from one element to turn it into another. Sustainable fusion reactors were by then a mainstay of humanity's civilization, so energy was no longer an issue. And so this scientist set out to turn one element into another with the liberal application of energy--it takes a lot of energy to rip nuclear forces in a manner that would reliably turn one element into another. And, eventually, he was successful. Hydrogen into Helium--the basic reaction taking place in the center of their star. A lot of heat, a lot of pressure, all made possible by almost limitless energy.
A descendant of this scientist took the research to another level. Nano-technology was not a new thing--microscopic robots were used in quickly repairing injuries and precisely excising cancerous cells out of the sick for decades. This scientist combined her predecessor's research and created atomic-sized nanites. Simple things that could only follow a couple of simple instructions, being they were mostly composed of a couple of protons and neutrons and energized by a dozen or so electrons. But they could handle the immense temperatures and pressures at the center of her predecessor's reactor, and she was soon turning lots of things into others. Lead into gold was obvious, but her government noticed that and forbade her to continue doing so--some backwards tribes still existed and considered gold as currency, after all. So, she decided that the next logical step was to turn something into food. Overpopulation was already straining humanity's civilizations, and food was a growing concern. By ordering her nanites to take sub-atomic particles and add others, she was soon able to create nutritious, tasty food out of dirt, rocks, grass, wood-- anything she could shove into her reactor, now called a "converter". Her research shared among her colleagues, more of these "converters" were constructed and experimented on, quickly becoming a mainstay of humanity's civilization. The worry and lack of food was no more--nearly limitless food could be created, packaged, and sold. Of course, this interfered with certain political groups which used the growing price and lack of food to their advantage, and so this scientist was assassinated for her inadvertent interference--but the converters were there to stay.
The combined resources of multiple scientific organizations meant that these building-sized converters quickly became small enough to be installed in a small alcove in the home. Programmable, a typical converter could be told by a human what food they wanted and at what temperature--limited to 373.15 degrees Kelvin. All the human had to do was put something in the top, and their food would appear in a puff of light at the bottom. Usually, people would simply use the surrounding atmosphere as the material.
At first, this was not much of an issue. However, as humanity's population topped 18 billion, the results of such use of these converters became obvious. There was a finite amount of mass in the planet, and definitely a finite amount of atmosphere--an amount that was being depleted far quicker than could be replenished by natural means. The political situation deteriorated as invasions took place to literally steal the dirt, air, and water of the neighbors, to feed to the converters at home. The ecosystem suffered most of all--trees were being cut down and turned into material for the converters. Water sources--the ocean, most of all, were also being depleted and turned into food. The prophesied danger of rising sea levels due to climate change was replaced by wondering where it all went. The deserts became deep chasms, the sand dug up and carted away. The atmosphere became noticeably thinner--for example, the results of parachuting out of an aircraft--the few that could still fly--were questionable at best. Weather patterns grew sluggish and rain became a distant memory. The land began to die, forcing governments to drastically limit the use of these converters, taxing the ocean even further with huge desalinization plants to replenish the fresh water sources.
Space travel then became the topic of choice, to try to escape the prison humanity had forced itself into. Sure, small shuttles with primitive fusion reactors had been sent out to scout for possible landing sites for possible further manned exploration, but the invention of the converters put that notion to rest. Now, it was back at the forefront of discussion. Why not build ships which could harvest matter out of the moon, or Mars, or beyond, and use those in the converters? And so ships were built, fitted with fusion reactors and converters, and sent out to the moon to harvest. Soon, entire cities were built on the moon, massive converters turning regolith into atmosphere, for the sole purpose of revitalizing the home planet. More ships were built and cities erected onto Mars. Massive cargo ships ferried material from the moon, Mars, and eventually the asteroid belt, back to earth to be converted to whatever was needed. Massive converters replenished Earth's atmosphere and oceans, while sand flowed back into the deserts. Soon, the Earth had been more or less fixed, and the immediate danger had passed. Food was still far more expensive than it had been in the past, but civilization was manageable again.
Two things limited the speed at which humanity could spread among the stars. First, the speed of light was a distant limit, for the small fusion reactors could not push the ships beyond even a tenth of that speed. And second, someone managed to turn a converter into a weapon of mass destruction. | |
[WP] "Usually when we first contact a civilization, it is very easy to get them under our banner..." The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though." | The humans are the most stubborn. They don't listen. We have been leaving messages telling them to surrender. Our armies are gathered and ready to assault their whole community. They will realize our power when we steal all their food and carry it back to our storehouses. What will they do then! ?
Their impudent stomping on our grounds must end. We say enough with the running around. We say enough enduring their childish attempts to bury our colonies. We may be small but we are strong. Next Saturday the park is ours. Ants, arise and assemble! | Humanity's fascination with the atom began--unknowingly--with the advent of forging. Turning two metals into one, stronger, metal with the liberal application of heat tended to be a pastime of many human civilizations and empires whenever their neighbors started staring at them a little too long for their liking. From tin and copper, to bronze, to iron, and beyond. Metal and heat. That was the name of the game for thousands of years.
More recently came the hobby of alchemy. That arcane practice of attempting to turn one worthless metal into something which could be marketed as something worth buying; the success of which was sought after by kings and emperors as well as any peasant with a laboratory and some chemicals at his or her disposal. Not by heat alone this time, but by the application of random chemicals and mixtures was one lump of worthless metal turned into a wet lump of worthless metal, probably with the added fun of caustic fumes and deadly reactions to go along with it. From mixing metals for protection to drowning them for possible riches. Few items of interest or note ever came of this practice; but it did help get the ball rolling on the basic sciences, mainly by preserving the desire to discover and explore until the Renaissance.
The basic elements found on their planet began to be noticed, catalogued, and finally organized by their atomic weights. More elements were found and added to their table as the more powerful civilizations took to the oceans to stake their claims on the "wild" continents discovered on the other side of their world, and as scientific methods became more standardized. Of course, as is humanity's method of survival, the discovery of some of these elements led to weapons which soon made the general method of thousands of years of warfare largely obsolete. Those who were unlucky enough to not have discovered these elements and their uses (and there were a lot of civilizations which failed to do so) paid dearly for it by those who did.
And on and on humanity went, discovering more elements and, eventually, creating a few of their own--most of those created only lasted a few microseconds. But when a century of warfare took the humans through that dark time, a few of them were able to light up a small part of their planet--if only for a very short while--with a particularly-heavy element and the wanton smashing of the atomic structure of that element with the neutrons dislodged from other atoms with the application of crushing pressure brought about--first by ramming, then by precise explosions. A city, then two cities, more or less instantly erased from existence, and the notion of war between old powers was suddenly a very unpalatable one. But the threat of one was still there.
This particular weapon was tested again and again, the results growing larger and larger--the end result mostly to get more neutrons to bombard a mass of several heavy elements, resulting in larger explosions. Complex mathematical equations, born from new applications of mathematics and aided with machines that could calculate and solve these equations for these humans in a very short amount of time, dictated how reactions between atomic elements were supposed to happen. And, finally, the humans built a machine which allowed them to gaze upon the atom itself.
By this time, humanity was instantly communicating among itself despite the distances on their planet and on nearby bodies. And humanity progressed still, until someone remembered that old practice of alchemy, wondering if it was finally possible. They had full access to the atom--no matter the element. All they would have to do is either add or take away the protons, neutrons, or electrons from one element to turn it into another. Sustainable fusion reactors were by then a mainstay of humanity's civilization, so energy was no longer an issue. And so this scientist set out to turn one element into another with the liberal application of energy--it takes a lot of energy to rip nuclear forces in a manner that would reliably turn one element into another. And, eventually, he was successful. Hydrogen into Helium--the basic reaction taking place in the center of their star. A lot of heat, a lot of pressure, all made possible by almost limitless energy.
A descendant of this scientist took the research to another level. Nano-technology was not a new thing--microscopic robots were used in quickly repairing injuries and precisely excising cancerous cells out of the sick for decades. This scientist combined her predecessor's research and created atomic-sized nanites. Simple things that could only follow a couple of simple instructions, being they were mostly composed of a couple of protons and neutrons and energized by a dozen or so electrons. But they could handle the immense temperatures and pressures at the center of her predecessor's reactor, and she was soon turning lots of things into others. Lead into gold was obvious, but her government noticed that and forbade her to continue doing so--some backwards tribes still existed and considered gold as currency, after all. So, she decided that the next logical step was to turn something into food. Overpopulation was already straining humanity's civilizations, and food was a growing concern. By ordering her nanites to take sub-atomic particles and add others, she was soon able to create nutritious, tasty food out of dirt, rocks, grass, wood-- anything she could shove into her reactor, now called a "converter". Her research shared among her colleagues, more of these "converters" were constructed and experimented on, quickly becoming a mainstay of humanity's civilization. The worry and lack of food was no more--nearly limitless food could be created, packaged, and sold. Of course, this interfered with certain political groups which used the growing price and lack of food to their advantage, and so this scientist was assassinated for her inadvertent interference--but the converters were there to stay.
The combined resources of multiple scientific organizations meant that these building-sized converters quickly became small enough to be installed in a small alcove in the home. Programmable, a typical converter could be told by a human what food they wanted and at what temperature--limited to 373.15 degrees Kelvin. All the human had to do was put something in the top, and their food would appear in a puff of light at the bottom. Usually, people would simply use the surrounding atmosphere as the material.
At first, this was not much of an issue. However, as humanity's population topped 18 billion, the results of such use of these converters became obvious. There was a finite amount of mass in the planet, and definitely a finite amount of atmosphere--an amount that was being depleted far quicker than could be replenished by natural means. The political situation deteriorated as invasions took place to literally steal the dirt, air, and water of the neighbors, to feed to the converters at home. The ecosystem suffered most of all--trees were being cut down and turned into material for the converters. Water sources--the ocean, most of all, were also being depleted and turned into food. The prophesied danger of rising sea levels due to climate change was replaced by wondering where it all went. The deserts became deep chasms, the sand dug up and carted away. The atmosphere became noticeably thinner--for example, the results of parachuting out of an aircraft--the few that could still fly--were questionable at best. Weather patterns grew sluggish and rain became a distant memory. The land began to die, forcing governments to drastically limit the use of these converters, taxing the ocean even further with huge desalinization plants to replenish the fresh water sources.
Space travel then became the topic of choice, to try to escape the prison humanity had forced itself into. Sure, small shuttles with primitive fusion reactors had been sent out to scout for possible landing sites for possible further manned exploration, but the invention of the converters put that notion to rest. Now, it was back at the forefront of discussion. Why not build ships which could harvest matter out of the moon, or Mars, or beyond, and use those in the converters? And so ships were built, fitted with fusion reactors and converters, and sent out to the moon to harvest. Soon, entire cities were built on the moon, massive converters turning regolith into atmosphere, for the sole purpose of revitalizing the home planet. More ships were built and cities erected onto Mars. Massive cargo ships ferried material from the moon, Mars, and eventually the asteroid belt, back to earth to be converted to whatever was needed. Massive converters replenished Earth's atmosphere and oceans, while sand flowed back into the deserts. Soon, the Earth had been more or less fixed, and the immediate danger had passed. Food was still far more expensive than it had been in the past, but civilization was manageable again.
Two things limited the speed at which humanity could spread among the stars. First, the speed of light was a distant limit, for the small fusion reactors could not push the ships beyond even a tenth of that speed. And second, someone managed to turn a converter into a weapon of mass destruction. | |
[WP] "Usually when we first contact a civilization, it is very easy to get them under our banner..." The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though." | "Usually when we first contact a civilization, it is very easy to get them under our banner..." The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though."
The young Prince looked up at his nearly Immortal mother, his eyes a mixture of boredom and contempt, "Why is this important? I am in the middle of a battle. The enemy fleet numbers in the thousands. These Rebels will not be the end of the Empire."
"Because they were the first of them," she responded, "We had known ten thousand years of peace. Ten Thousand years of unity. And then we collected the Humans to our breast and they found the situation intolerable."
The Prince's eyes flickered for a moment between the holosphere in the middle of his Flag deck, where the Rebel starships were even now attempting to cut around his main force which they had expertly pinned with a line of older units. By the time that battle was over, they would have the high orbitals of the Empire's Throne World. The Planet that had given birth to his Mother, and to the Empire that had ruled over the galaxy for over one hundred thousand years. A diversion to get to the Empress worthy of a Prince of the Empire, had they had the ability to pull it off.
"They found our conquest not to their liking, so they Rebeled. They broke with our peace and then others found that our yolk had become too heavy over the long years. Soon entire sectors broke away. Your father had an idea to quash them, but it did not go as expected."
The Prince's eyes flashed as he forced Command into the entire third squadron, enhancing their abilities far greater than even the Ship's battle computers could have managed. They whipped through impossible maneuvers to annihilate half of the enemy fleet in moments. It freed nearly a quarter of his fleet to chase the force heading towards the capital. Even that much was a strain. His Mother could have Commanded the entire fleet, not just a single squadron and even now his black blood poured out from around his eyes at the strain of the act.
"He killed them, glassed their planet. But in so doing he removed them as a target we could reach. We could not Command them. We could not kill them any more. There are a handful of humans left, but now they are the Martyred race. The race we destroyed because they were stronger than us for they were free."
The Empire had simple rules. The Strong led the weak. The Stronger led the Strong. The Strongest Commanded them all. One who could not be Commanded by you stood above you. "Mother, why tell me this," he stated fiercely, "I will be to your aid. Their fleet shall never reach the capital. I will defeat this Rebellion and any that follow."
"Because," stated the Empress from her throne world, her eyes ancient before the days of the rise of the Empire, "You should know what you alone will face."
The Prince twisted to look back at his mother's feed, realizing that there was another being on the video. She was a scrawny pink skinned creature, with a small amount of brown hair in a single braid running down her the metallic canister on her back. In her hand she held a small device. Blood poured from his Mother's eyes as she poured an ocean of Will into that creature, enough to Command planets. Enough to show that the was the True Empress, greatest of her nearly Immortal Line.
The little Martyr pushed the button and the signal died.
| Humanity's fascination with the atom began--unknowingly--with the advent of forging. Turning two metals into one, stronger, metal with the liberal application of heat tended to be a pastime of many human civilizations and empires whenever their neighbors started staring at them a little too long for their liking. From tin and copper, to bronze, to iron, and beyond. Metal and heat. That was the name of the game for thousands of years.
More recently came the hobby of alchemy. That arcane practice of attempting to turn one worthless metal into something which could be marketed as something worth buying; the success of which was sought after by kings and emperors as well as any peasant with a laboratory and some chemicals at his or her disposal. Not by heat alone this time, but by the application of random chemicals and mixtures was one lump of worthless metal turned into a wet lump of worthless metal, probably with the added fun of caustic fumes and deadly reactions to go along with it. From mixing metals for protection to drowning them for possible riches. Few items of interest or note ever came of this practice; but it did help get the ball rolling on the basic sciences, mainly by preserving the desire to discover and explore until the Renaissance.
The basic elements found on their planet began to be noticed, catalogued, and finally organized by their atomic weights. More elements were found and added to their table as the more powerful civilizations took to the oceans to stake their claims on the "wild" continents discovered on the other side of their world, and as scientific methods became more standardized. Of course, as is humanity's method of survival, the discovery of some of these elements led to weapons which soon made the general method of thousands of years of warfare largely obsolete. Those who were unlucky enough to not have discovered these elements and their uses (and there were a lot of civilizations which failed to do so) paid dearly for it by those who did.
And on and on humanity went, discovering more elements and, eventually, creating a few of their own--most of those created only lasted a few microseconds. But when a century of warfare took the humans through that dark time, a few of them were able to light up a small part of their planet--if only for a very short while--with a particularly-heavy element and the wanton smashing of the atomic structure of that element with the neutrons dislodged from other atoms with the application of crushing pressure brought about--first by ramming, then by precise explosions. A city, then two cities, more or less instantly erased from existence, and the notion of war between old powers was suddenly a very unpalatable one. But the threat of one was still there.
This particular weapon was tested again and again, the results growing larger and larger--the end result mostly to get more neutrons to bombard a mass of several heavy elements, resulting in larger explosions. Complex mathematical equations, born from new applications of mathematics and aided with machines that could calculate and solve these equations for these humans in a very short amount of time, dictated how reactions between atomic elements were supposed to happen. And, finally, the humans built a machine which allowed them to gaze upon the atom itself.
By this time, humanity was instantly communicating among itself despite the distances on their planet and on nearby bodies. And humanity progressed still, until someone remembered that old practice of alchemy, wondering if it was finally possible. They had full access to the atom--no matter the element. All they would have to do is either add or take away the protons, neutrons, or electrons from one element to turn it into another. Sustainable fusion reactors were by then a mainstay of humanity's civilization, so energy was no longer an issue. And so this scientist set out to turn one element into another with the liberal application of energy--it takes a lot of energy to rip nuclear forces in a manner that would reliably turn one element into another. And, eventually, he was successful. Hydrogen into Helium--the basic reaction taking place in the center of their star. A lot of heat, a lot of pressure, all made possible by almost limitless energy.
A descendant of this scientist took the research to another level. Nano-technology was not a new thing--microscopic robots were used in quickly repairing injuries and precisely excising cancerous cells out of the sick for decades. This scientist combined her predecessor's research and created atomic-sized nanites. Simple things that could only follow a couple of simple instructions, being they were mostly composed of a couple of protons and neutrons and energized by a dozen or so electrons. But they could handle the immense temperatures and pressures at the center of her predecessor's reactor, and she was soon turning lots of things into others. Lead into gold was obvious, but her government noticed that and forbade her to continue doing so--some backwards tribes still existed and considered gold as currency, after all. So, she decided that the next logical step was to turn something into food. Overpopulation was already straining humanity's civilizations, and food was a growing concern. By ordering her nanites to take sub-atomic particles and add others, she was soon able to create nutritious, tasty food out of dirt, rocks, grass, wood-- anything she could shove into her reactor, now called a "converter". Her research shared among her colleagues, more of these "converters" were constructed and experimented on, quickly becoming a mainstay of humanity's civilization. The worry and lack of food was no more--nearly limitless food could be created, packaged, and sold. Of course, this interfered with certain political groups which used the growing price and lack of food to their advantage, and so this scientist was assassinated for her inadvertent interference--but the converters were there to stay.
The combined resources of multiple scientific organizations meant that these building-sized converters quickly became small enough to be installed in a small alcove in the home. Programmable, a typical converter could be told by a human what food they wanted and at what temperature--limited to 373.15 degrees Kelvin. All the human had to do was put something in the top, and their food would appear in a puff of light at the bottom. Usually, people would simply use the surrounding atmosphere as the material.
At first, this was not much of an issue. However, as humanity's population topped 18 billion, the results of such use of these converters became obvious. There was a finite amount of mass in the planet, and definitely a finite amount of atmosphere--an amount that was being depleted far quicker than could be replenished by natural means. The political situation deteriorated as invasions took place to literally steal the dirt, air, and water of the neighbors, to feed to the converters at home. The ecosystem suffered most of all--trees were being cut down and turned into material for the converters. Water sources--the ocean, most of all, were also being depleted and turned into food. The prophesied danger of rising sea levels due to climate change was replaced by wondering where it all went. The deserts became deep chasms, the sand dug up and carted away. The atmosphere became noticeably thinner--for example, the results of parachuting out of an aircraft--the few that could still fly--were questionable at best. Weather patterns grew sluggish and rain became a distant memory. The land began to die, forcing governments to drastically limit the use of these converters, taxing the ocean even further with huge desalinization plants to replenish the fresh water sources.
Space travel then became the topic of choice, to try to escape the prison humanity had forced itself into. Sure, small shuttles with primitive fusion reactors had been sent out to scout for possible landing sites for possible further manned exploration, but the invention of the converters put that notion to rest. Now, it was back at the forefront of discussion. Why not build ships which could harvest matter out of the moon, or Mars, or beyond, and use those in the converters? And so ships were built, fitted with fusion reactors and converters, and sent out to the moon to harvest. Soon, entire cities were built on the moon, massive converters turning regolith into atmosphere, for the sole purpose of revitalizing the home planet. More ships were built and cities erected onto Mars. Massive cargo ships ferried material from the moon, Mars, and eventually the asteroid belt, back to earth to be converted to whatever was needed. Massive converters replenished Earth's atmosphere and oceans, while sand flowed back into the deserts. Soon, the Earth had been more or less fixed, and the immediate danger had passed. Food was still far more expensive than it had been in the past, but civilization was manageable again.
Two things limited the speed at which humanity could spread among the stars. First, the speed of light was a distant limit, for the small fusion reactors could not push the ships beyond even a tenth of that speed. And second, someone managed to turn a converter into a weapon of mass destruction. | |
[WP] "Usually when we first contact a civilization, it is very easy to get them under our banner..." The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though." | "Humanity, they simply cannot cooperate." the Empress spat at her adviser as he finished explaining the last assault on the arms depot.
"It's just they have a fascination with destruction madam." Stated the lead ambassador.
"We only had one condition for their integration." The empress stated blankly. "...every other race as done as we have asked."
The empress looked over the Earth from above, as another one of her envoy fleet was enveloped in a bright fireball and destroyed.
"They won't relinquish them." The adviser stated in a harsh tone.
The empress looked to the planet below. "They could make a formidable ally in the war, but they refuse to co-operate." she leaned back into her chair. "Usually when we first contact a civilisation, it is very easy to get them under our banner..." The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though... they love their nuclear weapons too much."
"Perhaps allowing them to possess them would be permissible as a means of planetary defence?"
"You know our laws, God does not allow us to interfere with its creation in this manner."
"If the mechanoids reach this planet, they may broker a deal with this race." The adviser stated in a solumn tone, as he looked out the viewing window.
"Mechanoids, those unfeeling monsters."
"The humans can easily relate those beings, they operate with a hivemind similar to their mass communications equipment."
"We cannot allow the mechanoids to broker a peace with these people." The Empress stood up from her thrown. "Crack their planet."
Moments later, a deep thumping could be heard from the bowls of the ship as the ship began syphoning energy from its core as it generated power for the cracking array.
Without any warning, a large fleet of ships seemed to emerge from behind Earth's moon. It was the Mechanoids, and they were emitting a strange signal.
The Empress looked to the communications array and back to the screen which was now covered with red warning signal markers as the message came through.
"On screen" The Empress commanded as the image displayed on the screen of a man stood next to a mechanoid.
"You come to our home, tell us how to live and threaten our existence." The man stated before the Empress interrupted him back.
"You're making a grave mistake, those beings are a scourge."
"Only to those who fear progress." Alex stated blankly as he looked to the empress.
---------------------------------
Three Years Prior.
Alex saw the meteor strike down near his uncle's farm and drove his pick-up truck to the site of the crash.
As he arrived, he could see wreckage everywhere and a being struggling from the wreck.
As the being pulled itself from the craft, it saw Alex and immediately drew its weapon and tried to fire, but the weapon was damaged and the arm reaching for it was also damaged, so instead of drawing anything, it flailed around until it got a shock from the damaged power array and fell unconscious.
It later awoke in a garage, strapped to a table whilst the young mechanic was welding its arm back on.
The Mechanoid kept silent and watched as the young man, whilst wearing a pair of microscopic binoculars on his face, soldered connections and welded parts. The Mechanoid found the process fascinating, normally they simply throw away useless limbs and replace them, but this primitive creature seemed to have some kind of fundamental understanding of parts.
As Alex closed the last seam with weld and then released the clamps, he moved to the core of the unit.
As he peered inside, the Mechanoid stirred and tried to get up.
"Don't get up" Alex said as he put his hand on the Mechanoid's chest. The Mechanoid began analysing the language as he spoke.
"You have a considerable amount of damage to your core and if you get up you might damage something. I need to take a look."
As Alex looked inside the robot, it was clear that the creature was very advanced, but there were modular parts that were connected with some robust circuitry. Tiny little mites seemed to be crawling around within the unit, attempting to repair the damage, but there were some large parts that were warped.
Alex took the largest bent connector and bent it back with a pair of mole grips, as he bent it back, the mites seemed to be micro welding it in place.
The Mechanoid broke free of it's bindings and stood up, immediately drawing its weapon.
Alex, raised his hands to the Mechanoid and nodded his head to the door.
As the Mechanoid looked to the door, Alex drew his from under the table shotgun and pointed it at the Mechanoid.
The Mechanoid looked back to Alex and let out a weird noise as the connection within it's chest reestablished and it could properly feel it's sensors again in the lower half of it's body. The Mechanoid lowered it's weapon and Alex did the same.
The two beings looked at one and other... unable to communicate...
Alex took a USB stick from his drawer, and plugged it into his laptop, downloading a file to the stick and then taking it out of his computer, he moved towards the Mechanoid and took the Mechanoid by the arm. Confused the Mechanoid looked to the man, what he didn't realise what the Alex had installed a USB port to the nervous system of the Mechanoid and as he plugged the stick into the Mechanoids arm. The Mechanoid felt a strange buzz of information as the mites tried to decipher the code.
The Mechanoid fell unconscious for a few days and when it awoke, Alex spoke to it, and it understood him.
"Are you okay?"
"I... understand you now." The Mechanoid spoke. "How can this be?"
"Whilst you were out-cold, I had a look at your programming and added a few things." Alex said.
"You've brainwashed me!!!" The Mechanoid panicked as it tried to draw its weapon from its arm.
As the weapon loaded up. It could feel a greater draw from its core.
"Oh yeah, I upgraded your rail-gun, it had some kind of power limiter on it, stopping you from firing it at full power."
"That's to protect my inner circuits from..."
"I know, that's why I routed the main discharge through the upper part of your shell and put rubber on your soles, it will increase your grip and stop you from being earthed."
The Mechanoid looked at his new weapon.
"Why did you do this?" The Mechanoid stated.
"I think robots are cool." Alex responded.
"What do you think of Nuclear power?"
Alex laughed. "It's a source of immense power, but we have to learn how to harness it in a way that doesn't create so much waste."
"Learn about it." The Mechanoid looked intrigued as it sat down.
"At the minute, we draw power from a nuclear reactors heat, but this isn't the most effective way to draw power from a reaction, if we could siphon the power in a more direct way, we could generate enough power to solve all of our problems, maybe even go to other planets.
"What would you do if you went to other planets?"
"Learn more stuff."
"You like to learn?"
"Our civilisation is based on learning, we store information in libraries for others to read."
"Libraries?"
"Yes, like databases but physical, we moved passed those now, we have something called the internet."
"The internet." The Mechanoid searched its language database and found the entry for the internet and suddenly became aware of the implications. "The hive-mind?"
"No, we just access the net, it doesn't actually control us unless we choose to follow the advice." Alex said.
The Mechanoid seemed stunned as it sat down. "Choose to follow... the hive mind."
The notion seemed so fundamental to its core.
"But you don't have any robotic parts." The Mechanoid looked around the room, seeing so many mechanical things.
"We don't have integrated parts but that doesn't mean we cannot integrate technology into our lives, in fact most of our way of life is connected to technology."
"What about obedience?" The Mechanoid asked.
"Obedience? We have rules and laws, but each person is free to bend the rules or even break them if necessary."
The Mechanoid walked to the computer and sat down. "It could understand the words on screen as it typed on the console, it suddenly became aware of the WIFI signal and began interpreting the noise.
The Mechanoid sat still for a few moments as it processed the information. Alex didn't have a WIFI password as he lived alone in the sticks and within moments the Mechanoid was feeling the information from the internet as it searched through the information downloading and cherry picking the cultural elements.
The Mechanoid stood up, having learned enough, and walked back to its ship with Alex talking to it as they went. When they arrived, the ship was almost fully repaired and there were a group of men surrounding the ship taking readings from it.
"What are they doing?" Asked the Mechanoid.
"Trying to learn about how it works."
The Mechanoid took the stick out of its arm, "The plans are on this stick." As he handed them to Alex. He turned to the group. "I think we could form an alliance, but I need to speak with the Hive-Mind, you're inter-network is a most effective evolving system and has shared considerable insights into your race."
Alex, stunned, looked to the men in lab coats and moving to their computer, plugged the USB stick into the machine. Sure enough, there were detailed schematics and drawings, also word documents explaining how everything worked, the principles behind the craft and adaptations for human physiology and, more importantly, how to generate power directly from radioactive materials.
Alex looked back to the ship as it took off...
"Good bye friend." | Humanity's fascination with the atom began--unknowingly--with the advent of forging. Turning two metals into one, stronger, metal with the liberal application of heat tended to be a pastime of many human civilizations and empires whenever their neighbors started staring at them a little too long for their liking. From tin and copper, to bronze, to iron, and beyond. Metal and heat. That was the name of the game for thousands of years.
More recently came the hobby of alchemy. That arcane practice of attempting to turn one worthless metal into something which could be marketed as something worth buying; the success of which was sought after by kings and emperors as well as any peasant with a laboratory and some chemicals at his or her disposal. Not by heat alone this time, but by the application of random chemicals and mixtures was one lump of worthless metal turned into a wet lump of worthless metal, probably with the added fun of caustic fumes and deadly reactions to go along with it. From mixing metals for protection to drowning them for possible riches. Few items of interest or note ever came of this practice; but it did help get the ball rolling on the basic sciences, mainly by preserving the desire to discover and explore until the Renaissance.
The basic elements found on their planet began to be noticed, catalogued, and finally organized by their atomic weights. More elements were found and added to their table as the more powerful civilizations took to the oceans to stake their claims on the "wild" continents discovered on the other side of their world, and as scientific methods became more standardized. Of course, as is humanity's method of survival, the discovery of some of these elements led to weapons which soon made the general method of thousands of years of warfare largely obsolete. Those who were unlucky enough to not have discovered these elements and their uses (and there were a lot of civilizations which failed to do so) paid dearly for it by those who did.
And on and on humanity went, discovering more elements and, eventually, creating a few of their own--most of those created only lasted a few microseconds. But when a century of warfare took the humans through that dark time, a few of them were able to light up a small part of their planet--if only for a very short while--with a particularly-heavy element and the wanton smashing of the atomic structure of that element with the neutrons dislodged from other atoms with the application of crushing pressure brought about--first by ramming, then by precise explosions. A city, then two cities, more or less instantly erased from existence, and the notion of war between old powers was suddenly a very unpalatable one. But the threat of one was still there.
This particular weapon was tested again and again, the results growing larger and larger--the end result mostly to get more neutrons to bombard a mass of several heavy elements, resulting in larger explosions. Complex mathematical equations, born from new applications of mathematics and aided with machines that could calculate and solve these equations for these humans in a very short amount of time, dictated how reactions between atomic elements were supposed to happen. And, finally, the humans built a machine which allowed them to gaze upon the atom itself.
By this time, humanity was instantly communicating among itself despite the distances on their planet and on nearby bodies. And humanity progressed still, until someone remembered that old practice of alchemy, wondering if it was finally possible. They had full access to the atom--no matter the element. All they would have to do is either add or take away the protons, neutrons, or electrons from one element to turn it into another. Sustainable fusion reactors were by then a mainstay of humanity's civilization, so energy was no longer an issue. And so this scientist set out to turn one element into another with the liberal application of energy--it takes a lot of energy to rip nuclear forces in a manner that would reliably turn one element into another. And, eventually, he was successful. Hydrogen into Helium--the basic reaction taking place in the center of their star. A lot of heat, a lot of pressure, all made possible by almost limitless energy.
A descendant of this scientist took the research to another level. Nano-technology was not a new thing--microscopic robots were used in quickly repairing injuries and precisely excising cancerous cells out of the sick for decades. This scientist combined her predecessor's research and created atomic-sized nanites. Simple things that could only follow a couple of simple instructions, being they were mostly composed of a couple of protons and neutrons and energized by a dozen or so electrons. But they could handle the immense temperatures and pressures at the center of her predecessor's reactor, and she was soon turning lots of things into others. Lead into gold was obvious, but her government noticed that and forbade her to continue doing so--some backwards tribes still existed and considered gold as currency, after all. So, she decided that the next logical step was to turn something into food. Overpopulation was already straining humanity's civilizations, and food was a growing concern. By ordering her nanites to take sub-atomic particles and add others, she was soon able to create nutritious, tasty food out of dirt, rocks, grass, wood-- anything she could shove into her reactor, now called a "converter". Her research shared among her colleagues, more of these "converters" were constructed and experimented on, quickly becoming a mainstay of humanity's civilization. The worry and lack of food was no more--nearly limitless food could be created, packaged, and sold. Of course, this interfered with certain political groups which used the growing price and lack of food to their advantage, and so this scientist was assassinated for her inadvertent interference--but the converters were there to stay.
The combined resources of multiple scientific organizations meant that these building-sized converters quickly became small enough to be installed in a small alcove in the home. Programmable, a typical converter could be told by a human what food they wanted and at what temperature--limited to 373.15 degrees Kelvin. All the human had to do was put something in the top, and their food would appear in a puff of light at the bottom. Usually, people would simply use the surrounding atmosphere as the material.
At first, this was not much of an issue. However, as humanity's population topped 18 billion, the results of such use of these converters became obvious. There was a finite amount of mass in the planet, and definitely a finite amount of atmosphere--an amount that was being depleted far quicker than could be replenished by natural means. The political situation deteriorated as invasions took place to literally steal the dirt, air, and water of the neighbors, to feed to the converters at home. The ecosystem suffered most of all--trees were being cut down and turned into material for the converters. Water sources--the ocean, most of all, were also being depleted and turned into food. The prophesied danger of rising sea levels due to climate change was replaced by wondering where it all went. The deserts became deep chasms, the sand dug up and carted away. The atmosphere became noticeably thinner--for example, the results of parachuting out of an aircraft--the few that could still fly--were questionable at best. Weather patterns grew sluggish and rain became a distant memory. The land began to die, forcing governments to drastically limit the use of these converters, taxing the ocean even further with huge desalinization plants to replenish the fresh water sources.
Space travel then became the topic of choice, to try to escape the prison humanity had forced itself into. Sure, small shuttles with primitive fusion reactors had been sent out to scout for possible landing sites for possible further manned exploration, but the invention of the converters put that notion to rest. Now, it was back at the forefront of discussion. Why not build ships which could harvest matter out of the moon, or Mars, or beyond, and use those in the converters? And so ships were built, fitted with fusion reactors and converters, and sent out to the moon to harvest. Soon, entire cities were built on the moon, massive converters turning regolith into atmosphere, for the sole purpose of revitalizing the home planet. More ships were built and cities erected onto Mars. Massive cargo ships ferried material from the moon, Mars, and eventually the asteroid belt, back to earth to be converted to whatever was needed. Massive converters replenished Earth's atmosphere and oceans, while sand flowed back into the deserts. Soon, the Earth had been more or less fixed, and the immediate danger had passed. Food was still far more expensive than it had been in the past, but civilization was manageable again.
Two things limited the speed at which humanity could spread among the stars. First, the speed of light was a distant limit, for the small fusion reactors could not push the ships beyond even a tenth of that speed. And second, someone managed to turn a converter into a weapon of mass destruction. | |
[WP] "Usually when we first contact a civilization, it is very easy to get them under our banner..." The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though." | "What do you mean they said 'No'? Did you show them that it was the only rational choice? Did you tell them everything they would gain if they would but kneel?" Her face tendrils stroked the iron hard carapace of what the humans would call a forehead. A sign of slight irritation as well as a hint of confusion.
"Universal healthcare, full employment, free entertainment, what else could they want? Freedom of speech and a say in how they're governed?" The Empress was trying to assuage her own irritation, and that of her court, with a joke. Forgetting how the psychic powers of her species would manifest, she was quite surprised when the silence of her envoy was her response.
"Oh, that can't be it, really?" The entire court, Empress as well, was starting to laugh. The envoy could only flash her flesh blue. Her species' equivalent to a nod. Being that Eza of the Slui wasn't known for lying or humor, the court began to see that this was the exact problem.
"They do realize that, to have any right to simply demand these things, they'll need to enforce them in conflict, yes?" The Empress inquired.
"I warned them of this my Lady, they told me of their history in response. I showed them the might of our military using my personal battle cruiser, the Flower of Q'ort. They showed me what a single of their, nu'kleer bombs could do. They told me it was a small one. They proved to me that it was a small one. It would have destroyed the vessel had they intended to hit it. The electromagnetic pulse of the weapon nearly disabled the ships shields. I assure you, they are unafraid."
"You told them of our policy of blockades for difficult systems, how they wouldn't be able to escape their world if we were to do anything, creative, yes?"
"They're developing a technology that we won't be able to block. They plan to use spatio-temporal distortion for their FTL. Standard interdiction systems won't stop it, we've already checked." Eza was known for being thorough in her first contact efforts. Still, this type of news was unheard of. Species that developed a 'warp' drive were usually so docile that they practically begged for the protection of the Empire.
"When they turned us down, how did the mock invasion fare?" The Empress' question was answered immediately, but not by Eza. The Krage delegate spoke up.
"Our entire invasion force was destroyed. To the last. There were no survivors. When they started to retreat, something followed them to the rally point. This is where we lost contact with them. My Lady. Our last contact was quite disturbing. According to the shipmaster, the humans were trying to get onto the vessels."
The court was stunned into silence. The only species aggressive enough to even attempt that were the Xev, who were so primitive that they hadn't been contacted.
"Is it possible that the humans could have accomplished this?" The Empress now sounded concerned. No species had ever managed to fight off a Krage expeditionary force.
"Did they ask for assistance when the invasion came, or did they do something else?" The Empress' question was answered by Eza turning a purple hue.
"Quite the opposite. They accused us of being involved, and told us to cease the attack or a war would occur."
The Empress looked at her chief diplomat. She had served her well over the centuries. She was loathe to make an example of her, but there had to be a penalty for this failure. Thinking about her words, and mulling over the news about this new species, she began to speak. | Humanity's fascination with the atom began--unknowingly--with the advent of forging. Turning two metals into one, stronger, metal with the liberal application of heat tended to be a pastime of many human civilizations and empires whenever their neighbors started staring at them a little too long for their liking. From tin and copper, to bronze, to iron, and beyond. Metal and heat. That was the name of the game for thousands of years.
More recently came the hobby of alchemy. That arcane practice of attempting to turn one worthless metal into something which could be marketed as something worth buying; the success of which was sought after by kings and emperors as well as any peasant with a laboratory and some chemicals at his or her disposal. Not by heat alone this time, but by the application of random chemicals and mixtures was one lump of worthless metal turned into a wet lump of worthless metal, probably with the added fun of caustic fumes and deadly reactions to go along with it. From mixing metals for protection to drowning them for possible riches. Few items of interest or note ever came of this practice; but it did help get the ball rolling on the basic sciences, mainly by preserving the desire to discover and explore until the Renaissance.
The basic elements found on their planet began to be noticed, catalogued, and finally organized by their atomic weights. More elements were found and added to their table as the more powerful civilizations took to the oceans to stake their claims on the "wild" continents discovered on the other side of their world, and as scientific methods became more standardized. Of course, as is humanity's method of survival, the discovery of some of these elements led to weapons which soon made the general method of thousands of years of warfare largely obsolete. Those who were unlucky enough to not have discovered these elements and their uses (and there were a lot of civilizations which failed to do so) paid dearly for it by those who did.
And on and on humanity went, discovering more elements and, eventually, creating a few of their own--most of those created only lasted a few microseconds. But when a century of warfare took the humans through that dark time, a few of them were able to light up a small part of their planet--if only for a very short while--with a particularly-heavy element and the wanton smashing of the atomic structure of that element with the neutrons dislodged from other atoms with the application of crushing pressure brought about--first by ramming, then by precise explosions. A city, then two cities, more or less instantly erased from existence, and the notion of war between old powers was suddenly a very unpalatable one. But the threat of one was still there.
This particular weapon was tested again and again, the results growing larger and larger--the end result mostly to get more neutrons to bombard a mass of several heavy elements, resulting in larger explosions. Complex mathematical equations, born from new applications of mathematics and aided with machines that could calculate and solve these equations for these humans in a very short amount of time, dictated how reactions between atomic elements were supposed to happen. And, finally, the humans built a machine which allowed them to gaze upon the atom itself.
By this time, humanity was instantly communicating among itself despite the distances on their planet and on nearby bodies. And humanity progressed still, until someone remembered that old practice of alchemy, wondering if it was finally possible. They had full access to the atom--no matter the element. All they would have to do is either add or take away the protons, neutrons, or electrons from one element to turn it into another. Sustainable fusion reactors were by then a mainstay of humanity's civilization, so energy was no longer an issue. And so this scientist set out to turn one element into another with the liberal application of energy--it takes a lot of energy to rip nuclear forces in a manner that would reliably turn one element into another. And, eventually, he was successful. Hydrogen into Helium--the basic reaction taking place in the center of their star. A lot of heat, a lot of pressure, all made possible by almost limitless energy.
A descendant of this scientist took the research to another level. Nano-technology was not a new thing--microscopic robots were used in quickly repairing injuries and precisely excising cancerous cells out of the sick for decades. This scientist combined her predecessor's research and created atomic-sized nanites. Simple things that could only follow a couple of simple instructions, being they were mostly composed of a couple of protons and neutrons and energized by a dozen or so electrons. But they could handle the immense temperatures and pressures at the center of her predecessor's reactor, and she was soon turning lots of things into others. Lead into gold was obvious, but her government noticed that and forbade her to continue doing so--some backwards tribes still existed and considered gold as currency, after all. So, she decided that the next logical step was to turn something into food. Overpopulation was already straining humanity's civilizations, and food was a growing concern. By ordering her nanites to take sub-atomic particles and add others, she was soon able to create nutritious, tasty food out of dirt, rocks, grass, wood-- anything she could shove into her reactor, now called a "converter". Her research shared among her colleagues, more of these "converters" were constructed and experimented on, quickly becoming a mainstay of humanity's civilization. The worry and lack of food was no more--nearly limitless food could be created, packaged, and sold. Of course, this interfered with certain political groups which used the growing price and lack of food to their advantage, and so this scientist was assassinated for her inadvertent interference--but the converters were there to stay.
The combined resources of multiple scientific organizations meant that these building-sized converters quickly became small enough to be installed in a small alcove in the home. Programmable, a typical converter could be told by a human what food they wanted and at what temperature--limited to 373.15 degrees Kelvin. All the human had to do was put something in the top, and their food would appear in a puff of light at the bottom. Usually, people would simply use the surrounding atmosphere as the material.
At first, this was not much of an issue. However, as humanity's population topped 18 billion, the results of such use of these converters became obvious. There was a finite amount of mass in the planet, and definitely a finite amount of atmosphere--an amount that was being depleted far quicker than could be replenished by natural means. The political situation deteriorated as invasions took place to literally steal the dirt, air, and water of the neighbors, to feed to the converters at home. The ecosystem suffered most of all--trees were being cut down and turned into material for the converters. Water sources--the ocean, most of all, were also being depleted and turned into food. The prophesied danger of rising sea levels due to climate change was replaced by wondering where it all went. The deserts became deep chasms, the sand dug up and carted away. The atmosphere became noticeably thinner--for example, the results of parachuting out of an aircraft--the few that could still fly--were questionable at best. Weather patterns grew sluggish and rain became a distant memory. The land began to die, forcing governments to drastically limit the use of these converters, taxing the ocean even further with huge desalinization plants to replenish the fresh water sources.
Space travel then became the topic of choice, to try to escape the prison humanity had forced itself into. Sure, small shuttles with primitive fusion reactors had been sent out to scout for possible landing sites for possible further manned exploration, but the invention of the converters put that notion to rest. Now, it was back at the forefront of discussion. Why not build ships which could harvest matter out of the moon, or Mars, or beyond, and use those in the converters? And so ships were built, fitted with fusion reactors and converters, and sent out to the moon to harvest. Soon, entire cities were built on the moon, massive converters turning regolith into atmosphere, for the sole purpose of revitalizing the home planet. More ships were built and cities erected onto Mars. Massive cargo ships ferried material from the moon, Mars, and eventually the asteroid belt, back to earth to be converted to whatever was needed. Massive converters replenished Earth's atmosphere and oceans, while sand flowed back into the deserts. Soon, the Earth had been more or less fixed, and the immediate danger had passed. Food was still far more expensive than it had been in the past, but civilization was manageable again.
Two things limited the speed at which humanity could spread among the stars. First, the speed of light was a distant limit, for the small fusion reactors could not push the ships beyond even a tenth of that speed. And second, someone managed to turn a converter into a weapon of mass destruction. | |
[WP] "Usually when we first contact a civilization, it is very easy to get them under our banner..." The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though." | "Usually when we first contact a civilization, it is very easy to get them under our banner..."
The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though."
She sat in the throne room, monitoring her fleet in both a holo screen and through the dome canopy of her capital ship as they journeyed through the stars. Where had it all gone wrong?
Humans were a curiosity, at first. No central unity, no overall leader who could feasibly represent such a diverse array of beliefs, views, ambitions, and goals. Monitors from afar indicated that they had established some sort of self-serving, imbalanced council of representatives of each "nation", unironically called "The United Nations", that was the closest thing to a head.
The entire world seemed to teeter on the edge of self-extinction, the planet scarred by conflicts and environmental disruptions, yet at the same time showed almost a gleeful rate of destruction. A notable update was when humans proved their capacity for self-destruction when a small peninsula on the north-western rim of the large body of water, called the 'Pacific Ocean', erupted in a mass of thermo-nuclear detonations. This event had garnered the attention of the Empress and her advisors, that this 'backwater' planet, which had not developed space-faring capability and seemed to be confined to their blue planet, had somehow developed nuclear capabilities. Further reports on the event indicated millions of humans dead and a disruption of the relative stability of human activity. And just a few Sol revolutions later the humans somehow went on with their lives.
The event had gained the attention of her advisors and then to her. How had a squabbling species, who had not developed space-faring capabilities, managed to harness nuclear power? She recalled how eons ago they themselves shunned its use, deemed it too crude and destructive to wield, and even as the humans struggled to move beyond kinetic-based weaponry, they already possess such a potentially destructive power.
The Empire's first mistake had been to send a fleet of scouts to the planet, ostensibly to better understand the humans. In their hubris, they underestimated the other capabilities of the humans. The Empress had watched curiosly through her Monitors, after having executed the remote scout pilots and planners for their blunder, when the humans recovered the Empire's crashed scout crafts.
It was over a dozen Sol revolutions later when human activity drew her attention. Reports showed an explosion of activity and a remarkable progress in technological development. The humans did not have an overall leader, as they somehow managed to retain their "democracy". But they had reverse-engineered the technology on those scout drones that were captured and had, in a blink of an eye to the Empress's eternal lifespan, attained space-faring capabilities. They colonized their system and quickly moved beyond, and their technological level grew by leaps and bounds.
The Empire's second mistake was to wait for much longer before making contact. The Empress had assembled The Grand Fleet and sent her representative, one of her many daughters, to make contact with the humans. She had sent the wrong daughter.
She had been brash, full of pompous pride and hubris. A small slight that would have been understandable for an upstart civilization in the presence of the Empress's grand fleet and her daughter decided to punish them for it. The humans had reacted with extraordinary brutality, pursuing the fleet and bringing such firepower to bear that would have given one of her more hawkish generals to doubt.
The humans employed unorthodox methods, exemplified when they caught her daughter's capital ship in an asteroid field. After battering the outer defenses, they had inserted squads of soldiers through ship-launched pods, and what the humans lacked in physical strength or technological level compared to the Empire's warriors, they made up in their independent tactics and ingenuity. The humans were fluid in their doctrine and exploited her Empire's warriors weaknesses as quickly as they found them. Their kinetic weapons were precise as their chemical explosives were destructive. The last reports were of 'ghosts' breaching the command room before her daughter had been captured and the capital ship towed back as a prize.
She cared not for her daughter's life, the fool who had been slighted when the human delegate looked her in the eye. But she could not afford to allow the humans to hold her hostage, and she decided that she needed to resolves this mess personally.
Now the Empress was on her way, with her a fleet thrice larger than her Grand Fleet that had been destroyed. The humans had sent a message, indicating their willingness to negotiate and patch things up. The Empress would not come unprepared.
As the Empire's fleet emerged out of space jump, they were greeted by the human fleet assembled at the agreed point. The Empress realized then why the humans had asked for such a meeting. Before her fleet loomed the humans, their ships twice their numbers and brimming with weaponry.
For the first time in eons, the Empress felt a shudder run down her back. | Humanity's fascination with the atom began--unknowingly--with the advent of forging. Turning two metals into one, stronger, metal with the liberal application of heat tended to be a pastime of many human civilizations and empires whenever their neighbors started staring at them a little too long for their liking. From tin and copper, to bronze, to iron, and beyond. Metal and heat. That was the name of the game for thousands of years.
More recently came the hobby of alchemy. That arcane practice of attempting to turn one worthless metal into something which could be marketed as something worth buying; the success of which was sought after by kings and emperors as well as any peasant with a laboratory and some chemicals at his or her disposal. Not by heat alone this time, but by the application of random chemicals and mixtures was one lump of worthless metal turned into a wet lump of worthless metal, probably with the added fun of caustic fumes and deadly reactions to go along with it. From mixing metals for protection to drowning them for possible riches. Few items of interest or note ever came of this practice; but it did help get the ball rolling on the basic sciences, mainly by preserving the desire to discover and explore until the Renaissance.
The basic elements found on their planet began to be noticed, catalogued, and finally organized by their atomic weights. More elements were found and added to their table as the more powerful civilizations took to the oceans to stake their claims on the "wild" continents discovered on the other side of their world, and as scientific methods became more standardized. Of course, as is humanity's method of survival, the discovery of some of these elements led to weapons which soon made the general method of thousands of years of warfare largely obsolete. Those who were unlucky enough to not have discovered these elements and their uses (and there were a lot of civilizations which failed to do so) paid dearly for it by those who did.
And on and on humanity went, discovering more elements and, eventually, creating a few of their own--most of those created only lasted a few microseconds. But when a century of warfare took the humans through that dark time, a few of them were able to light up a small part of their planet--if only for a very short while--with a particularly-heavy element and the wanton smashing of the atomic structure of that element with the neutrons dislodged from other atoms with the application of crushing pressure brought about--first by ramming, then by precise explosions. A city, then two cities, more or less instantly erased from existence, and the notion of war between old powers was suddenly a very unpalatable one. But the threat of one was still there.
This particular weapon was tested again and again, the results growing larger and larger--the end result mostly to get more neutrons to bombard a mass of several heavy elements, resulting in larger explosions. Complex mathematical equations, born from new applications of mathematics and aided with machines that could calculate and solve these equations for these humans in a very short amount of time, dictated how reactions between atomic elements were supposed to happen. And, finally, the humans built a machine which allowed them to gaze upon the atom itself.
By this time, humanity was instantly communicating among itself despite the distances on their planet and on nearby bodies. And humanity progressed still, until someone remembered that old practice of alchemy, wondering if it was finally possible. They had full access to the atom--no matter the element. All they would have to do is either add or take away the protons, neutrons, or electrons from one element to turn it into another. Sustainable fusion reactors were by then a mainstay of humanity's civilization, so energy was no longer an issue. And so this scientist set out to turn one element into another with the liberal application of energy--it takes a lot of energy to rip nuclear forces in a manner that would reliably turn one element into another. And, eventually, he was successful. Hydrogen into Helium--the basic reaction taking place in the center of their star. A lot of heat, a lot of pressure, all made possible by almost limitless energy.
A descendant of this scientist took the research to another level. Nano-technology was not a new thing--microscopic robots were used in quickly repairing injuries and precisely excising cancerous cells out of the sick for decades. This scientist combined her predecessor's research and created atomic-sized nanites. Simple things that could only follow a couple of simple instructions, being they were mostly composed of a couple of protons and neutrons and energized by a dozen or so electrons. But they could handle the immense temperatures and pressures at the center of her predecessor's reactor, and she was soon turning lots of things into others. Lead into gold was obvious, but her government noticed that and forbade her to continue doing so--some backwards tribes still existed and considered gold as currency, after all. So, she decided that the next logical step was to turn something into food. Overpopulation was already straining humanity's civilizations, and food was a growing concern. By ordering her nanites to take sub-atomic particles and add others, she was soon able to create nutritious, tasty food out of dirt, rocks, grass, wood-- anything she could shove into her reactor, now called a "converter". Her research shared among her colleagues, more of these "converters" were constructed and experimented on, quickly becoming a mainstay of humanity's civilization. The worry and lack of food was no more--nearly limitless food could be created, packaged, and sold. Of course, this interfered with certain political groups which used the growing price and lack of food to their advantage, and so this scientist was assassinated for her inadvertent interference--but the converters were there to stay.
The combined resources of multiple scientific organizations meant that these building-sized converters quickly became small enough to be installed in a small alcove in the home. Programmable, a typical converter could be told by a human what food they wanted and at what temperature--limited to 373.15 degrees Kelvin. All the human had to do was put something in the top, and their food would appear in a puff of light at the bottom. Usually, people would simply use the surrounding atmosphere as the material.
At first, this was not much of an issue. However, as humanity's population topped 18 billion, the results of such use of these converters became obvious. There was a finite amount of mass in the planet, and definitely a finite amount of atmosphere--an amount that was being depleted far quicker than could be replenished by natural means. The political situation deteriorated as invasions took place to literally steal the dirt, air, and water of the neighbors, to feed to the converters at home. The ecosystem suffered most of all--trees were being cut down and turned into material for the converters. Water sources--the ocean, most of all, were also being depleted and turned into food. The prophesied danger of rising sea levels due to climate change was replaced by wondering where it all went. The deserts became deep chasms, the sand dug up and carted away. The atmosphere became noticeably thinner--for example, the results of parachuting out of an aircraft--the few that could still fly--were questionable at best. Weather patterns grew sluggish and rain became a distant memory. The land began to die, forcing governments to drastically limit the use of these converters, taxing the ocean even further with huge desalinization plants to replenish the fresh water sources.
Space travel then became the topic of choice, to try to escape the prison humanity had forced itself into. Sure, small shuttles with primitive fusion reactors had been sent out to scout for possible landing sites for possible further manned exploration, but the invention of the converters put that notion to rest. Now, it was back at the forefront of discussion. Why not build ships which could harvest matter out of the moon, or Mars, or beyond, and use those in the converters? And so ships were built, fitted with fusion reactors and converters, and sent out to the moon to harvest. Soon, entire cities were built on the moon, massive converters turning regolith into atmosphere, for the sole purpose of revitalizing the home planet. More ships were built and cities erected onto Mars. Massive cargo ships ferried material from the moon, Mars, and eventually the asteroid belt, back to earth to be converted to whatever was needed. Massive converters replenished Earth's atmosphere and oceans, while sand flowed back into the deserts. Soon, the Earth had been more or less fixed, and the immediate danger had passed. Food was still far more expensive than it had been in the past, but civilization was manageable again.
Two things limited the speed at which humanity could spread among the stars. First, the speed of light was a distant limit, for the small fusion reactors could not push the ships beyond even a tenth of that speed. And second, someone managed to turn a converter into a weapon of mass destruction. | |
[WP] "Usually when we first contact a civilization, it is very easy to get them under our banner..." The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though." | The humans are the most stubborn. They don't listen. We have been leaving messages telling them to surrender. Our armies are gathered and ready to assault their whole community. They will realize our power when we steal all their food and carry it back to our storehouses. What will they do then! ?
Their impudent stomping on our grounds must end. We say enough with the running around. We say enough enduring their childish attempts to bury our colonies. We may be small but we are strong. Next Saturday the park is ours. Ants, arise and assemble! | On initial observations, the humans appeared to be like any other Class III barbarian race. They had developed technologically sufficiently to care for their old and weak and were the clear dominant race of their planet. Politically, they had developed into more or less stable organizational units, but not so far that they had created any meaningful planetary leadership or efficient shared language and communication. Intellectually and philosophically, they were surprisingly advanced, with large amounts of discussion and theorizing if not mass consensus about ethics, morals and ideas of governance and power, more so than any other Class III species yet observed. Perhaps this should have been our first sign that something was wrong.
There were no deviations from the typical first contact plans. As per protocol for Class III barbarians, heuristic analysis was used to understand the structure and significant subjects of the most common dialects of the planet. Ambassadors were briefed on dialects appropriate to their designated regions and were sent to each major organizational unit of the race. Appropriate to their level of technological development, the Humans had numerous questions first about our technology and origins, then galactic empire and its implications. Typical promises were made regarding the advances in healthcare, technology and commerce that would be made possible by joining the empire. Communication broke down somewhat as negotiations progressed. The Humans seemed fascinated by the idea of taking over or having power in the empire in some capacity that was unclear to our ambassadors. Following negotiation protocols closely, the Humans were reminded repeatedly of the numerous benefits they could expect in the coming years of assimilation, and conversations were directed away from poorly understood areas of the language, at least until a more complete understanding of the language could be reached.
Seeing no clear evidence to the contrary, ambassadors assumed that assimilation was to proceed without further complications, and set about the task of setting up permanent regional offices. Locations were chosen in several major population centers at the Human named settlements of New York, London, Delhi and Tokyo. Embassies were constructed quickly with what materials were typical of human construction to minimize culture shock. Stones, cellulose based organic matter and the metal from one particularly isolated and corroded copper monument were incorporated into buildings intended to serve as convenient access for future Human and empire dealings.
Due to the relatively long lifespan of the Humans, the highest priority of the offices was beginning the process or reeducation of the younger generation so the Humans could be fully integrated into the empire’s commercial workings within the next century. All was proceeding according to plan and within an acceptable timeframe. Then, in the space of a galactic standard hour, seemingly all of the Humans mobilized and conducted a surprise attack on all embassies simultaneously. We were completely unprepared.
No further contact has been attempted at this time. Satellite observation of the planet suggests that human mobilization has further accelerated. Human Industrial, scientific and political activity have all skyrocketed to unprecedented levels. No survivors were successfully extracted from the embassies, and we are thus far in the dark as to the intentions of the spontaneously unified Human race.
-Report summary from Assimilation Operations Commander Cyrus to Empire Incident Command
Edit: a little bit of grammar
| |
[WP] "Usually when we first contact a civilization, it is very easy to get them under our banner..." The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though." | "Humanity, they simply cannot cooperate." the Empress spat at her adviser as he finished explaining the last assault on the arms depot.
"It's just they have a fascination with destruction madam." Stated the lead ambassador.
"We only had one condition for their integration." The empress stated blankly. "...every other race as done as we have asked."
The empress looked over the Earth from above, as another one of her envoy fleet was enveloped in a bright fireball and destroyed.
"They won't relinquish them." The adviser stated in a harsh tone.
The empress looked to the planet below. "They could make a formidable ally in the war, but they refuse to co-operate." she leaned back into her chair. "Usually when we first contact a civilisation, it is very easy to get them under our banner..." The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though... they love their nuclear weapons too much."
"Perhaps allowing them to possess them would be permissible as a means of planetary defence?"
"You know our laws, God does not allow us to interfere with its creation in this manner."
"If the mechanoids reach this planet, they may broker a deal with this race." The adviser stated in a solumn tone, as he looked out the viewing window.
"Mechanoids, those unfeeling monsters."
"The humans can easily relate those beings, they operate with a hivemind similar to their mass communications equipment."
"We cannot allow the mechanoids to broker a peace with these people." The Empress stood up from her thrown. "Crack their planet."
Moments later, a deep thumping could be heard from the bowls of the ship as the ship began syphoning energy from its core as it generated power for the cracking array.
Without any warning, a large fleet of ships seemed to emerge from behind Earth's moon. It was the Mechanoids, and they were emitting a strange signal.
The Empress looked to the communications array and back to the screen which was now covered with red warning signal markers as the message came through.
"On screen" The Empress commanded as the image displayed on the screen of a man stood next to a mechanoid.
"You come to our home, tell us how to live and threaten our existence." The man stated before the Empress interrupted him back.
"You're making a grave mistake, those beings are a scourge."
"Only to those who fear progress." Alex stated blankly as he looked to the empress.
---------------------------------
Three Years Prior.
Alex saw the meteor strike down near his uncle's farm and drove his pick-up truck to the site of the crash.
As he arrived, he could see wreckage everywhere and a being struggling from the wreck.
As the being pulled itself from the craft, it saw Alex and immediately drew its weapon and tried to fire, but the weapon was damaged and the arm reaching for it was also damaged, so instead of drawing anything, it flailed around until it got a shock from the damaged power array and fell unconscious.
It later awoke in a garage, strapped to a table whilst the young mechanic was welding its arm back on.
The Mechanoid kept silent and watched as the young man, whilst wearing a pair of microscopic binoculars on his face, soldered connections and welded parts. The Mechanoid found the process fascinating, normally they simply throw away useless limbs and replace them, but this primitive creature seemed to have some kind of fundamental understanding of parts.
As Alex closed the last seam with weld and then released the clamps, he moved to the core of the unit.
As he peered inside, the Mechanoid stirred and tried to get up.
"Don't get up" Alex said as he put his hand on the Mechanoid's chest. The Mechanoid began analysing the language as he spoke.
"You have a considerable amount of damage to your core and if you get up you might damage something. I need to take a look."
As Alex looked inside the robot, it was clear that the creature was very advanced, but there were modular parts that were connected with some robust circuitry. Tiny little mites seemed to be crawling around within the unit, attempting to repair the damage, but there were some large parts that were warped.
Alex took the largest bent connector and bent it back with a pair of mole grips, as he bent it back, the mites seemed to be micro welding it in place.
The Mechanoid broke free of it's bindings and stood up, immediately drawing its weapon.
Alex, raised his hands to the Mechanoid and nodded his head to the door.
As the Mechanoid looked to the door, Alex drew his from under the table shotgun and pointed it at the Mechanoid.
The Mechanoid looked back to Alex and let out a weird noise as the connection within it's chest reestablished and it could properly feel it's sensors again in the lower half of it's body. The Mechanoid lowered it's weapon and Alex did the same.
The two beings looked at one and other... unable to communicate...
Alex took a USB stick from his drawer, and plugged it into his laptop, downloading a file to the stick and then taking it out of his computer, he moved towards the Mechanoid and took the Mechanoid by the arm. Confused the Mechanoid looked to the man, what he didn't realise what the Alex had installed a USB port to the nervous system of the Mechanoid and as he plugged the stick into the Mechanoids arm. The Mechanoid felt a strange buzz of information as the mites tried to decipher the code.
The Mechanoid fell unconscious for a few days and when it awoke, Alex spoke to it, and it understood him.
"Are you okay?"
"I... understand you now." The Mechanoid spoke. "How can this be?"
"Whilst you were out-cold, I had a look at your programming and added a few things." Alex said.
"You've brainwashed me!!!" The Mechanoid panicked as it tried to draw its weapon from its arm.
As the weapon loaded up. It could feel a greater draw from its core.
"Oh yeah, I upgraded your rail-gun, it had some kind of power limiter on it, stopping you from firing it at full power."
"That's to protect my inner circuits from..."
"I know, that's why I routed the main discharge through the upper part of your shell and put rubber on your soles, it will increase your grip and stop you from being earthed."
The Mechanoid looked at his new weapon.
"Why did you do this?" The Mechanoid stated.
"I think robots are cool." Alex responded.
"What do you think of Nuclear power?"
Alex laughed. "It's a source of immense power, but we have to learn how to harness it in a way that doesn't create so much waste."
"Learn about it." The Mechanoid looked intrigued as it sat down.
"At the minute, we draw power from a nuclear reactors heat, but this isn't the most effective way to draw power from a reaction, if we could siphon the power in a more direct way, we could generate enough power to solve all of our problems, maybe even go to other planets.
"What would you do if you went to other planets?"
"Learn more stuff."
"You like to learn?"
"Our civilisation is based on learning, we store information in libraries for others to read."
"Libraries?"
"Yes, like databases but physical, we moved passed those now, we have something called the internet."
"The internet." The Mechanoid searched its language database and found the entry for the internet and suddenly became aware of the implications. "The hive-mind?"
"No, we just access the net, it doesn't actually control us unless we choose to follow the advice." Alex said.
The Mechanoid seemed stunned as it sat down. "Choose to follow... the hive mind."
The notion seemed so fundamental to its core.
"But you don't have any robotic parts." The Mechanoid looked around the room, seeing so many mechanical things.
"We don't have integrated parts but that doesn't mean we cannot integrate technology into our lives, in fact most of our way of life is connected to technology."
"What about obedience?" The Mechanoid asked.
"Obedience? We have rules and laws, but each person is free to bend the rules or even break them if necessary."
The Mechanoid walked to the computer and sat down. "It could understand the words on screen as it typed on the console, it suddenly became aware of the WIFI signal and began interpreting the noise.
The Mechanoid sat still for a few moments as it processed the information. Alex didn't have a WIFI password as he lived alone in the sticks and within moments the Mechanoid was feeling the information from the internet as it searched through the information downloading and cherry picking the cultural elements.
The Mechanoid stood up, having learned enough, and walked back to its ship with Alex talking to it as they went. When they arrived, the ship was almost fully repaired and there were a group of men surrounding the ship taking readings from it.
"What are they doing?" Asked the Mechanoid.
"Trying to learn about how it works."
The Mechanoid took the stick out of its arm, "The plans are on this stick." As he handed them to Alex. He turned to the group. "I think we could form an alliance, but I need to speak with the Hive-Mind, you're inter-network is a most effective evolving system and has shared considerable insights into your race."
Alex, stunned, looked to the men in lab coats and moving to their computer, plugged the USB stick into the machine. Sure enough, there were detailed schematics and drawings, also word documents explaining how everything worked, the principles behind the craft and adaptations for human physiology and, more importantly, how to generate power directly from radioactive materials.
Alex looked back to the ship as it took off...
"Good bye friend." | On initial observations, the humans appeared to be like any other Class III barbarian race. They had developed technologically sufficiently to care for their old and weak and were the clear dominant race of their planet. Politically, they had developed into more or less stable organizational units, but not so far that they had created any meaningful planetary leadership or efficient shared language and communication. Intellectually and philosophically, they were surprisingly advanced, with large amounts of discussion and theorizing if not mass consensus about ethics, morals and ideas of governance and power, more so than any other Class III species yet observed. Perhaps this should have been our first sign that something was wrong.
There were no deviations from the typical first contact plans. As per protocol for Class III barbarians, heuristic analysis was used to understand the structure and significant subjects of the most common dialects of the planet. Ambassadors were briefed on dialects appropriate to their designated regions and were sent to each major organizational unit of the race. Appropriate to their level of technological development, the Humans had numerous questions first about our technology and origins, then galactic empire and its implications. Typical promises were made regarding the advances in healthcare, technology and commerce that would be made possible by joining the empire. Communication broke down somewhat as negotiations progressed. The Humans seemed fascinated by the idea of taking over or having power in the empire in some capacity that was unclear to our ambassadors. Following negotiation protocols closely, the Humans were reminded repeatedly of the numerous benefits they could expect in the coming years of assimilation, and conversations were directed away from poorly understood areas of the language, at least until a more complete understanding of the language could be reached.
Seeing no clear evidence to the contrary, ambassadors assumed that assimilation was to proceed without further complications, and set about the task of setting up permanent regional offices. Locations were chosen in several major population centers at the Human named settlements of New York, London, Delhi and Tokyo. Embassies were constructed quickly with what materials were typical of human construction to minimize culture shock. Stones, cellulose based organic matter and the metal from one particularly isolated and corroded copper monument were incorporated into buildings intended to serve as convenient access for future Human and empire dealings.
Due to the relatively long lifespan of the Humans, the highest priority of the offices was beginning the process or reeducation of the younger generation so the Humans could be fully integrated into the empire’s commercial workings within the next century. All was proceeding according to plan and within an acceptable timeframe. Then, in the space of a galactic standard hour, seemingly all of the Humans mobilized and conducted a surprise attack on all embassies simultaneously. We were completely unprepared.
No further contact has been attempted at this time. Satellite observation of the planet suggests that human mobilization has further accelerated. Human Industrial, scientific and political activity have all skyrocketed to unprecedented levels. No survivors were successfully extracted from the embassies, and we are thus far in the dark as to the intentions of the spontaneously unified Human race.
-Report summary from Assimilation Operations Commander Cyrus to Empire Incident Command
Edit: a little bit of grammar
| |
[WP] "Usually when we first contact a civilization, it is very easy to get them under our banner..." The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though." | "Humanity, they simply cannot cooperate." the Empress spat at her adviser as he finished explaining the last assault on the arms depot.
"It's just they have a fascination with destruction madam." Stated the lead ambassador.
"We only had one condition for their integration." The empress stated blankly. "...every other race as done as we have asked."
The empress looked over the Earth from above, as another one of her envoy fleet was enveloped in a bright fireball and destroyed.
"They won't relinquish them." The adviser stated in a harsh tone.
The empress looked to the planet below. "They could make a formidable ally in the war, but they refuse to co-operate." she leaned back into her chair. "Usually when we first contact a civilisation, it is very easy to get them under our banner..." The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though... they love their nuclear weapons too much."
"Perhaps allowing them to possess them would be permissible as a means of planetary defence?"
"You know our laws, God does not allow us to interfere with its creation in this manner."
"If the mechanoids reach this planet, they may broker a deal with this race." The adviser stated in a solumn tone, as he looked out the viewing window.
"Mechanoids, those unfeeling monsters."
"The humans can easily relate those beings, they operate with a hivemind similar to their mass communications equipment."
"We cannot allow the mechanoids to broker a peace with these people." The Empress stood up from her thrown. "Crack their planet."
Moments later, a deep thumping could be heard from the bowls of the ship as the ship began syphoning energy from its core as it generated power for the cracking array.
Without any warning, a large fleet of ships seemed to emerge from behind Earth's moon. It was the Mechanoids, and they were emitting a strange signal.
The Empress looked to the communications array and back to the screen which was now covered with red warning signal markers as the message came through.
"On screen" The Empress commanded as the image displayed on the screen of a man stood next to a mechanoid.
"You come to our home, tell us how to live and threaten our existence." The man stated before the Empress interrupted him back.
"You're making a grave mistake, those beings are a scourge."
"Only to those who fear progress." Alex stated blankly as he looked to the empress.
---------------------------------
Three Years Prior.
Alex saw the meteor strike down near his uncle's farm and drove his pick-up truck to the site of the crash.
As he arrived, he could see wreckage everywhere and a being struggling from the wreck.
As the being pulled itself from the craft, it saw Alex and immediately drew its weapon and tried to fire, but the weapon was damaged and the arm reaching for it was also damaged, so instead of drawing anything, it flailed around until it got a shock from the damaged power array and fell unconscious.
It later awoke in a garage, strapped to a table whilst the young mechanic was welding its arm back on.
The Mechanoid kept silent and watched as the young man, whilst wearing a pair of microscopic binoculars on his face, soldered connections and welded parts. The Mechanoid found the process fascinating, normally they simply throw away useless limbs and replace them, but this primitive creature seemed to have some kind of fundamental understanding of parts.
As Alex closed the last seam with weld and then released the clamps, he moved to the core of the unit.
As he peered inside, the Mechanoid stirred and tried to get up.
"Don't get up" Alex said as he put his hand on the Mechanoid's chest. The Mechanoid began analysing the language as he spoke.
"You have a considerable amount of damage to your core and if you get up you might damage something. I need to take a look."
As Alex looked inside the robot, it was clear that the creature was very advanced, but there were modular parts that were connected with some robust circuitry. Tiny little mites seemed to be crawling around within the unit, attempting to repair the damage, but there were some large parts that were warped.
Alex took the largest bent connector and bent it back with a pair of mole grips, as he bent it back, the mites seemed to be micro welding it in place.
The Mechanoid broke free of it's bindings and stood up, immediately drawing its weapon.
Alex, raised his hands to the Mechanoid and nodded his head to the door.
As the Mechanoid looked to the door, Alex drew his from under the table shotgun and pointed it at the Mechanoid.
The Mechanoid looked back to Alex and let out a weird noise as the connection within it's chest reestablished and it could properly feel it's sensors again in the lower half of it's body. The Mechanoid lowered it's weapon and Alex did the same.
The two beings looked at one and other... unable to communicate...
Alex took a USB stick from his drawer, and plugged it into his laptop, downloading a file to the stick and then taking it out of his computer, he moved towards the Mechanoid and took the Mechanoid by the arm. Confused the Mechanoid looked to the man, what he didn't realise what the Alex had installed a USB port to the nervous system of the Mechanoid and as he plugged the stick into the Mechanoids arm. The Mechanoid felt a strange buzz of information as the mites tried to decipher the code.
The Mechanoid fell unconscious for a few days and when it awoke, Alex spoke to it, and it understood him.
"Are you okay?"
"I... understand you now." The Mechanoid spoke. "How can this be?"
"Whilst you were out-cold, I had a look at your programming and added a few things." Alex said.
"You've brainwashed me!!!" The Mechanoid panicked as it tried to draw its weapon from its arm.
As the weapon loaded up. It could feel a greater draw from its core.
"Oh yeah, I upgraded your rail-gun, it had some kind of power limiter on it, stopping you from firing it at full power."
"That's to protect my inner circuits from..."
"I know, that's why I routed the main discharge through the upper part of your shell and put rubber on your soles, it will increase your grip and stop you from being earthed."
The Mechanoid looked at his new weapon.
"Why did you do this?" The Mechanoid stated.
"I think robots are cool." Alex responded.
"What do you think of Nuclear power?"
Alex laughed. "It's a source of immense power, but we have to learn how to harness it in a way that doesn't create so much waste."
"Learn about it." The Mechanoid looked intrigued as it sat down.
"At the minute, we draw power from a nuclear reactors heat, but this isn't the most effective way to draw power from a reaction, if we could siphon the power in a more direct way, we could generate enough power to solve all of our problems, maybe even go to other planets.
"What would you do if you went to other planets?"
"Learn more stuff."
"You like to learn?"
"Our civilisation is based on learning, we store information in libraries for others to read."
"Libraries?"
"Yes, like databases but physical, we moved passed those now, we have something called the internet."
"The internet." The Mechanoid searched its language database and found the entry for the internet and suddenly became aware of the implications. "The hive-mind?"
"No, we just access the net, it doesn't actually control us unless we choose to follow the advice." Alex said.
The Mechanoid seemed stunned as it sat down. "Choose to follow... the hive mind."
The notion seemed so fundamental to its core.
"But you don't have any robotic parts." The Mechanoid looked around the room, seeing so many mechanical things.
"We don't have integrated parts but that doesn't mean we cannot integrate technology into our lives, in fact most of our way of life is connected to technology."
"What about obedience?" The Mechanoid asked.
"Obedience? We have rules and laws, but each person is free to bend the rules or even break them if necessary."
The Mechanoid walked to the computer and sat down. "It could understand the words on screen as it typed on the console, it suddenly became aware of the WIFI signal and began interpreting the noise.
The Mechanoid sat still for a few moments as it processed the information. Alex didn't have a WIFI password as he lived alone in the sticks and within moments the Mechanoid was feeling the information from the internet as it searched through the information downloading and cherry picking the cultural elements.
The Mechanoid stood up, having learned enough, and walked back to its ship with Alex talking to it as they went. When they arrived, the ship was almost fully repaired and there were a group of men surrounding the ship taking readings from it.
"What are they doing?" Asked the Mechanoid.
"Trying to learn about how it works."
The Mechanoid took the stick out of its arm, "The plans are on this stick." As he handed them to Alex. He turned to the group. "I think we could form an alliance, but I need to speak with the Hive-Mind, you're inter-network is a most effective evolving system and has shared considerable insights into your race."
Alex, stunned, looked to the men in lab coats and moving to their computer, plugged the USB stick into the machine. Sure enough, there were detailed schematics and drawings, also word documents explaining how everything worked, the principles behind the craft and adaptations for human physiology and, more importantly, how to generate power directly from radioactive materials.
Alex looked back to the ship as it took off...
"Good bye friend." | The humans are the most stubborn. They don't listen. We have been leaving messages telling them to surrender. Our armies are gathered and ready to assault their whole community. They will realize our power when we steal all their food and carry it back to our storehouses. What will they do then! ?
Their impudent stomping on our grounds must end. We say enough with the running around. We say enough enduring their childish attempts to bury our colonies. We may be small but we are strong. Next Saturday the park is ours. Ants, arise and assemble! | |
[WP] "Usually when we first contact a civilization, it is very easy to get them under our banner..." The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though." | "What do you mean they said 'No'? Did you show them that it was the only rational choice? Did you tell them everything they would gain if they would but kneel?" Her face tendrils stroked the iron hard carapace of what the humans would call a forehead. A sign of slight irritation as well as a hint of confusion.
"Universal healthcare, full employment, free entertainment, what else could they want? Freedom of speech and a say in how they're governed?" The Empress was trying to assuage her own irritation, and that of her court, with a joke. Forgetting how the psychic powers of her species would manifest, she was quite surprised when the silence of her envoy was her response.
"Oh, that can't be it, really?" The entire court, Empress as well, was starting to laugh. The envoy could only flash her flesh blue. Her species' equivalent to a nod. Being that Eza of the Slui wasn't known for lying or humor, the court began to see that this was the exact problem.
"They do realize that, to have any right to simply demand these things, they'll need to enforce them in conflict, yes?" The Empress inquired.
"I warned them of this my Lady, they told me of their history in response. I showed them the might of our military using my personal battle cruiser, the Flower of Q'ort. They showed me what a single of their, nu'kleer bombs could do. They told me it was a small one. They proved to me that it was a small one. It would have destroyed the vessel had they intended to hit it. The electromagnetic pulse of the weapon nearly disabled the ships shields. I assure you, they are unafraid."
"You told them of our policy of blockades for difficult systems, how they wouldn't be able to escape their world if we were to do anything, creative, yes?"
"They're developing a technology that we won't be able to block. They plan to use spatio-temporal distortion for their FTL. Standard interdiction systems won't stop it, we've already checked." Eza was known for being thorough in her first contact efforts. Still, this type of news was unheard of. Species that developed a 'warp' drive were usually so docile that they practically begged for the protection of the Empire.
"When they turned us down, how did the mock invasion fare?" The Empress' question was answered immediately, but not by Eza. The Krage delegate spoke up.
"Our entire invasion force was destroyed. To the last. There were no survivors. When they started to retreat, something followed them to the rally point. This is where we lost contact with them. My Lady. Our last contact was quite disturbing. According to the shipmaster, the humans were trying to get onto the vessels."
The court was stunned into silence. The only species aggressive enough to even attempt that were the Xev, who were so primitive that they hadn't been contacted.
"Is it possible that the humans could have accomplished this?" The Empress now sounded concerned. No species had ever managed to fight off a Krage expeditionary force.
"Did they ask for assistance when the invasion came, or did they do something else?" The Empress' question was answered by Eza turning a purple hue.
"Quite the opposite. They accused us of being involved, and told us to cease the attack or a war would occur."
The Empress looked at her chief diplomat. She had served her well over the centuries. She was loathe to make an example of her, but there had to be a penalty for this failure. Thinking about her words, and mulling over the news about this new species, she began to speak. | "Usually when we first contact a civilization, it is very easy to get them under our banner..." The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though."
The young Prince looked up at his nearly Immortal mother, his eyes a mixture of boredom and contempt, "Why is this important? I am in the middle of a battle. The enemy fleet numbers in the thousands. These Rebels will not be the end of the Empire."
"Because they were the first of them," she responded, "We had known ten thousand years of peace. Ten Thousand years of unity. And then we collected the Humans to our breast and they found the situation intolerable."
The Prince's eyes flickered for a moment between the holosphere in the middle of his Flag deck, where the Rebel starships were even now attempting to cut around his main force which they had expertly pinned with a line of older units. By the time that battle was over, they would have the high orbitals of the Empire's Throne World. The Planet that had given birth to his Mother, and to the Empire that had ruled over the galaxy for over one hundred thousand years. A diversion to get to the Empress worthy of a Prince of the Empire, had they had the ability to pull it off.
"They found our conquest not to their liking, so they Rebeled. They broke with our peace and then others found that our yolk had become too heavy over the long years. Soon entire sectors broke away. Your father had an idea to quash them, but it did not go as expected."
The Prince's eyes flashed as he forced Command into the entire third squadron, enhancing their abilities far greater than even the Ship's battle computers could have managed. They whipped through impossible maneuvers to annihilate half of the enemy fleet in moments. It freed nearly a quarter of his fleet to chase the force heading towards the capital. Even that much was a strain. His Mother could have Commanded the entire fleet, not just a single squadron and even now his black blood poured out from around his eyes at the strain of the act.
"He killed them, glassed their planet. But in so doing he removed them as a target we could reach. We could not Command them. We could not kill them any more. There are a handful of humans left, but now they are the Martyred race. The race we destroyed because they were stronger than us for they were free."
The Empire had simple rules. The Strong led the weak. The Stronger led the Strong. The Strongest Commanded them all. One who could not be Commanded by you stood above you. "Mother, why tell me this," he stated fiercely, "I will be to your aid. Their fleet shall never reach the capital. I will defeat this Rebellion and any that follow."
"Because," stated the Empress from her throne world, her eyes ancient before the days of the rise of the Empire, "You should know what you alone will face."
The Prince twisted to look back at his mother's feed, realizing that there was another being on the video. She was a scrawny pink skinned creature, with a small amount of brown hair in a single braid running down her the metallic canister on her back. In her hand she held a small device. Blood poured from his Mother's eyes as she poured an ocean of Will into that creature, enough to Command planets. Enough to show that the was the True Empress, greatest of her nearly Immortal Line.
The little Martyr pushed the button and the signal died.
| |
[WP] "Usually when we first contact a civilization, it is very easy to get them under our banner..." The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though." | "What do you mean they said 'No'? Did you show them that it was the only rational choice? Did you tell them everything they would gain if they would but kneel?" Her face tendrils stroked the iron hard carapace of what the humans would call a forehead. A sign of slight irritation as well as a hint of confusion.
"Universal healthcare, full employment, free entertainment, what else could they want? Freedom of speech and a say in how they're governed?" The Empress was trying to assuage her own irritation, and that of her court, with a joke. Forgetting how the psychic powers of her species would manifest, she was quite surprised when the silence of her envoy was her response.
"Oh, that can't be it, really?" The entire court, Empress as well, was starting to laugh. The envoy could only flash her flesh blue. Her species' equivalent to a nod. Being that Eza of the Slui wasn't known for lying or humor, the court began to see that this was the exact problem.
"They do realize that, to have any right to simply demand these things, they'll need to enforce them in conflict, yes?" The Empress inquired.
"I warned them of this my Lady, they told me of their history in response. I showed them the might of our military using my personal battle cruiser, the Flower of Q'ort. They showed me what a single of their, nu'kleer bombs could do. They told me it was a small one. They proved to me that it was a small one. It would have destroyed the vessel had they intended to hit it. The electromagnetic pulse of the weapon nearly disabled the ships shields. I assure you, they are unafraid."
"You told them of our policy of blockades for difficult systems, how they wouldn't be able to escape their world if we were to do anything, creative, yes?"
"They're developing a technology that we won't be able to block. They plan to use spatio-temporal distortion for their FTL. Standard interdiction systems won't stop it, we've already checked." Eza was known for being thorough in her first contact efforts. Still, this type of news was unheard of. Species that developed a 'warp' drive were usually so docile that they practically begged for the protection of the Empire.
"When they turned us down, how did the mock invasion fare?" The Empress' question was answered immediately, but not by Eza. The Krage delegate spoke up.
"Our entire invasion force was destroyed. To the last. There were no survivors. When they started to retreat, something followed them to the rally point. This is where we lost contact with them. My Lady. Our last contact was quite disturbing. According to the shipmaster, the humans were trying to get onto the vessels."
The court was stunned into silence. The only species aggressive enough to even attempt that were the Xev, who were so primitive that they hadn't been contacted.
"Is it possible that the humans could have accomplished this?" The Empress now sounded concerned. No species had ever managed to fight off a Krage expeditionary force.
"Did they ask for assistance when the invasion came, or did they do something else?" The Empress' question was answered by Eza turning a purple hue.
"Quite the opposite. They accused us of being involved, and told us to cease the attack or a war would occur."
The Empress looked at her chief diplomat. She had served her well over the centuries. She was loathe to make an example of her, but there had to be a penalty for this failure. Thinking about her words, and mulling over the news about this new species, she began to speak. | The spymaster strode into the great hall, brisk in pace. He came to a halt in front of the Empress, garbed in smooth golden robes draped over her seated form. He respectfully places the projected in front of her throne, and presses the play button. He gestures to it, saying "This was discretely recorded by one of our spies, in a local gathering place known to the humans as a 'Starbucks'. It should give you insight into the the humans view of our proposal and their rejection of it.
The video crackles to life.
"Right, so get this. Ya know those aliens everyone's talking 'bout?"
"Nah, not like its plastered all ovah twitter."
"Alright ya cunt settle down. So basically they've got feckin' monarchy."
"So like ours? That's not too bad-"
"No, like a legit one! That's th' funny part! THEY'RE FECKIN' FUEDAL! HA-HAAA!"
"You serious? You can't be serious."
"I AM. THE FUCKIN' CUNTS HAVE TO DUMBER THAN FUCKIN' ROCKS!"
"HOLY SHIT! THATS FUCKING GOLD! The fuck do they call they're *Oh so mighty king*?!"
"They call 'er the 'Empress' like they're from feckin' china or some shit!"
"HAHAHAHAHA! FUCKIN' AMAZIN'"
*click*
"Stop the recording. I've seen enough." | |
[WP] "Usually when we first contact a civilization, it is very easy to get them under our banner..." The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though." | "Usually when we first contact a civilization, it is very easy to get them under our banner..."
The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though."
She sat in the throne room, monitoring her fleet in both a holo screen and through the dome canopy of her capital ship as they journeyed through the stars. Where had it all gone wrong?
Humans were a curiosity, at first. No central unity, no overall leader who could feasibly represent such a diverse array of beliefs, views, ambitions, and goals. Monitors from afar indicated that they had established some sort of self-serving, imbalanced council of representatives of each "nation", unironically called "The United Nations", that was the closest thing to a head.
The entire world seemed to teeter on the edge of self-extinction, the planet scarred by conflicts and environmental disruptions, yet at the same time showed almost a gleeful rate of destruction. A notable update was when humans proved their capacity for self-destruction when a small peninsula on the north-western rim of the large body of water, called the 'Pacific Ocean', erupted in a mass of thermo-nuclear detonations. This event had garnered the attention of the Empress and her advisors, that this 'backwater' planet, which had not developed space-faring capability and seemed to be confined to their blue planet, had somehow developed nuclear capabilities. Further reports on the event indicated millions of humans dead and a disruption of the relative stability of human activity. And just a few Sol revolutions later the humans somehow went on with their lives.
The event had gained the attention of her advisors and then to her. How had a squabbling species, who had not developed space-faring capabilities, managed to harness nuclear power? She recalled how eons ago they themselves shunned its use, deemed it too crude and destructive to wield, and even as the humans struggled to move beyond kinetic-based weaponry, they already possess such a potentially destructive power.
The Empire's first mistake had been to send a fleet of scouts to the planet, ostensibly to better understand the humans. In their hubris, they underestimated the other capabilities of the humans. The Empress had watched curiosly through her Monitors, after having executed the remote scout pilots and planners for their blunder, when the humans recovered the Empire's crashed scout crafts.
It was over a dozen Sol revolutions later when human activity drew her attention. Reports showed an explosion of activity and a remarkable progress in technological development. The humans did not have an overall leader, as they somehow managed to retain their "democracy". But they had reverse-engineered the technology on those scout drones that were captured and had, in a blink of an eye to the Empress's eternal lifespan, attained space-faring capabilities. They colonized their system and quickly moved beyond, and their technological level grew by leaps and bounds.
The Empire's second mistake was to wait for much longer before making contact. The Empress had assembled The Grand Fleet and sent her representative, one of her many daughters, to make contact with the humans. She had sent the wrong daughter.
She had been brash, full of pompous pride and hubris. A small slight that would have been understandable for an upstart civilization in the presence of the Empress's grand fleet and her daughter decided to punish them for it. The humans had reacted with extraordinary brutality, pursuing the fleet and bringing such firepower to bear that would have given one of her more hawkish generals to doubt.
The humans employed unorthodox methods, exemplified when they caught her daughter's capital ship in an asteroid field. After battering the outer defenses, they had inserted squads of soldiers through ship-launched pods, and what the humans lacked in physical strength or technological level compared to the Empire's warriors, they made up in their independent tactics and ingenuity. The humans were fluid in their doctrine and exploited her Empire's warriors weaknesses as quickly as they found them. Their kinetic weapons were precise as their chemical explosives were destructive. The last reports were of 'ghosts' breaching the command room before her daughter had been captured and the capital ship towed back as a prize.
She cared not for her daughter's life, the fool who had been slighted when the human delegate looked her in the eye. But she could not afford to allow the humans to hold her hostage, and she decided that she needed to resolves this mess personally.
Now the Empress was on her way, with her a fleet thrice larger than her Grand Fleet that had been destroyed. The humans had sent a message, indicating their willingness to negotiate and patch things up. The Empress would not come unprepared.
As the Empire's fleet emerged out of space jump, they were greeted by the human fleet assembled at the agreed point. The Empress realized then why the humans had asked for such a meeting. Before her fleet loomed the humans, their ships twice their numbers and brimming with weaponry.
For the first time in eons, the Empress felt a shudder run down her back. | The spymaster strode into the great hall, brisk in pace. He came to a halt in front of the Empress, garbed in smooth golden robes draped over her seated form. He respectfully places the projected in front of her throne, and presses the play button. He gestures to it, saying "This was discretely recorded by one of our spies, in a local gathering place known to the humans as a 'Starbucks'. It should give you insight into the the humans view of our proposal and their rejection of it.
The video crackles to life.
"Right, so get this. Ya know those aliens everyone's talking 'bout?"
"Nah, not like its plastered all ovah twitter."
"Alright ya cunt settle down. So basically they've got feckin' monarchy."
"So like ours? That's not too bad-"
"No, like a legit one! That's th' funny part! THEY'RE FECKIN' FUEDAL! HA-HAAA!"
"You serious? You can't be serious."
"I AM. THE FUCKIN' CUNTS HAVE TO DUMBER THAN FUCKIN' ROCKS!"
"HOLY SHIT! THATS FUCKING GOLD! The fuck do they call they're *Oh so mighty king*?!"
"They call 'er the 'Empress' like they're from feckin' china or some shit!"
"HAHAHAHAHA! FUCKIN' AMAZIN'"
*click*
"Stop the recording. I've seen enough." | |
[WP] "Usually when we first contact a civilization, it is very easy to get them under our banner..." The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though." | "Usually when we first contact a civilization, it is very easy to get them under our banner..." The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though."
The assembled collection of interplanetary rulers looked on, faces carefully blank as to not show any emotion that might set their imperial ruler into a rage. Long has it been since the Empress claimed her throne amongst the many countless galaxies she had enslaved, and since then her temper has been legendary for its ferociousness.
"They are..." the Empress started, before trailing off as if the very words she needed had eluded her. "They are beyond our understanding."
The gathered conglomerate of rulers collectively gasped, all pretense of decor abandoned in the face of what their ruler had just stated. The Empress was a rock, an infallible source of leadership and knowledge. To admit that there was something that was beyond her was so rare that none of the species present, some of which lived for centuries, could not remember a moment where it had happened before.
A brave Clixperr, a race of blue-skinned, four eyed insectoids, raised his hand. "Err, your highness? What do you mean? I mean no disrespect, but I find it hard to believe that those... Dirt Walkers... could be beyond you."
The Empress' left antennae twitched, which was usually the first and only sign any creature got before they were removed from existence. Instead of incinerating the creature who dared talk out of turn, however, the Empress simply closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before answering.
"They are... a confusing sort," the Empress replied, temporarily forgiving her subject. "They don't react the way most sentient creatures do."
No one spoke without being addressed this time. Life flashed before their eyes once. It was more than enough for one day. Noticing the obedient silence, the Empress continued.
"Our scouting drones reported back a backwater civilization. They are barely out of Beta Stage of development."
Most aliens at the Empress' table shared a condoned laugh. Beta Stage of Civilized Development was the point where a civilization stopped fighting each other over resourced deemed valuable in the Alpha Stage, and started working coherently toward space travel.
There hadn't been a Beta Stage planet in millennia.
The different creatures reveled in their mockery for scant minutes more before the Empress spoke up once more, her silent words cutting through the chatter like a knife. "And yet, their technology has already reached that of Nevulon Five's."
Nevulon Five, while not the most technologically advanced of the planets under the Empress' rule, was among the best regardless. The room fell into silence once more.
"But... how?" a commander asked. The Empress, apparently feeling generous, let him keep his life as well. Such was the extent that the humans unnerved her.
"We... are unable to tell," the Empress sighed. "That is but an example of a much bigger, underlying problem." The Empress leaned forward, and as one, every other person in the room leaned back. "The humans squabble. They have clear, unrestrained hatred for one another, and everything in our databases say they should take themselves out. And yet... they don't. They continue to thrive amongst each other even though most of their technological and sociological advances are based towards killing each other. They adapt to harsh environments for the sole purpose of proving a point, and they constantly ingest near toxic substances and perform near deadly feats to simply prove they can."
The room was deathly silent. No one dared utter a word about such odd, terrifying creatures.
"Honestly, they are quite impressive. Quite insane, but in a way that would be entertaining. I believe we should extend every courtesy to get them to join. All those against?"
No one dared oppose. The question was a challenge, not a request.
"Good. Meeting adjourned."
As the creatures left, the Empress smiled a wicked smile. She told none of them of the humans' tendency to conquer. They would no doubt go on a spree to eliminate everyone weaker than them, most likely starting with the weaker planets in her own kingdom.
At worse? They would overthrow her. At best, they would whip the more pathetic ones into shape. The Empress shrugged, at least it would be amusing.
And most entertaining indeed. | The spymaster strode into the great hall, brisk in pace. He came to a halt in front of the Empress, garbed in smooth golden robes draped over her seated form. He respectfully places the projected in front of her throne, and presses the play button. He gestures to it, saying "This was discretely recorded by one of our spies, in a local gathering place known to the humans as a 'Starbucks'. It should give you insight into the the humans view of our proposal and their rejection of it.
The video crackles to life.
"Right, so get this. Ya know those aliens everyone's talking 'bout?"
"Nah, not like its plastered all ovah twitter."
"Alright ya cunt settle down. So basically they've got feckin' monarchy."
"So like ours? That's not too bad-"
"No, like a legit one! That's th' funny part! THEY'RE FECKIN' FUEDAL! HA-HAAA!"
"You serious? You can't be serious."
"I AM. THE FUCKIN' CUNTS HAVE TO DUMBER THAN FUCKIN' ROCKS!"
"HOLY SHIT! THATS FUCKING GOLD! The fuck do they call they're *Oh so mighty king*?!"
"They call 'er the 'Empress' like they're from feckin' china or some shit!"
"HAHAHAHAHA! FUCKIN' AMAZIN'"
*click*
"Stop the recording. I've seen enough." | |
[WP] "Usually when we first contact a civilization, it is very easy to get them under our banner..." The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though." | "What do you mean they said 'No'? Did you show them that it was the only rational choice? Did you tell them everything they would gain if they would but kneel?" Her face tendrils stroked the iron hard carapace of what the humans would call a forehead. A sign of slight irritation as well as a hint of confusion.
"Universal healthcare, full employment, free entertainment, what else could they want? Freedom of speech and a say in how they're governed?" The Empress was trying to assuage her own irritation, and that of her court, with a joke. Forgetting how the psychic powers of her species would manifest, she was quite surprised when the silence of her envoy was her response.
"Oh, that can't be it, really?" The entire court, Empress as well, was starting to laugh. The envoy could only flash her flesh blue. Her species' equivalent to a nod. Being that Eza of the Slui wasn't known for lying or humor, the court began to see that this was the exact problem.
"They do realize that, to have any right to simply demand these things, they'll need to enforce them in conflict, yes?" The Empress inquired.
"I warned them of this my Lady, they told me of their history in response. I showed them the might of our military using my personal battle cruiser, the Flower of Q'ort. They showed me what a single of their, nu'kleer bombs could do. They told me it was a small one. They proved to me that it was a small one. It would have destroyed the vessel had they intended to hit it. The electromagnetic pulse of the weapon nearly disabled the ships shields. I assure you, they are unafraid."
"You told them of our policy of blockades for difficult systems, how they wouldn't be able to escape their world if we were to do anything, creative, yes?"
"They're developing a technology that we won't be able to block. They plan to use spatio-temporal distortion for their FTL. Standard interdiction systems won't stop it, we've already checked." Eza was known for being thorough in her first contact efforts. Still, this type of news was unheard of. Species that developed a 'warp' drive were usually so docile that they practically begged for the protection of the Empire.
"When they turned us down, how did the mock invasion fare?" The Empress' question was answered immediately, but not by Eza. The Krage delegate spoke up.
"Our entire invasion force was destroyed. To the last. There were no survivors. When they started to retreat, something followed them to the rally point. This is where we lost contact with them. My Lady. Our last contact was quite disturbing. According to the shipmaster, the humans were trying to get onto the vessels."
The court was stunned into silence. The only species aggressive enough to even attempt that were the Xev, who were so primitive that they hadn't been contacted.
"Is it possible that the humans could have accomplished this?" The Empress now sounded concerned. No species had ever managed to fight off a Krage expeditionary force.
"Did they ask for assistance when the invasion came, or did they do something else?" The Empress' question was answered by Eza turning a purple hue.
"Quite the opposite. They accused us of being involved, and told us to cease the attack or a war would occur."
The Empress looked at her chief diplomat. She had served her well over the centuries. She was loathe to make an example of her, but there had to be a penalty for this failure. Thinking about her words, and mulling over the news about this new species, she began to speak. | "Usually when we first contact a civilization, it is very easy to get them under our banner..." The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though."
At the time no one could have understood what she had meant, knowing quite simply that The Empress had come to that conclusion after years of debate among her court and her military advisers. Initially, scouts were sent daily in order to retrieve human specimens for research. Each time, the scouts would return with bodies and with experimentation we learned about the human species and their ability to think for themselves and possess a means of unique governance known as "democracy". Inevitably, this meant that in both literal and abstract ways our conventional means of communication from the mothership would not reach the leaders of Humanity. Since the very first human came aboard The Empress took personal notice and would watch as the humans were interrogated. In time, she began to keep the humans as "pets" and at every sighting her fellow aristocrats would shudder in disgust. One would not be determined as wrong in assuming her view towards the Humans as anything but that of below even a slave species such as the Tarian.
"I want to speak to my domain, within an hour I will make an announcement."
An hour had come and went, members of the Court still debating on what the content of the announcement would be. Many thought it would be plausible that The Empress would declare a full scale invasion, similar to previous planets that had proved to be invulnerable to low level subversion and mind control.
They could not have been more wrong.
"Citizens of the Claxian Empire, I hereby decree the following..."
In addressing the whole entire Empire across the billions of star systems we had conquered, The Empress had already placed herself in the annals of history without even saying a word. With bated breath, the Empire watched as The Empress took off her gold emblazoned crown and placed down her sceptre, revealing to every man, woman and child that she too was a mere mortal Claxian.
"Earth shall not be invaded."
Within seconds, everything had changed.
Whether those back home on Claxia Prime knew or not, The Empress had become fascinated with human trifles such as "emotion" and "love" and saw the Humans as equals. The notion sounded preposterous even to the Lords that had volunteered to join her in conquering the Milky Way. Yet somehow she had pulled a complete turn, decades later it would appear that her conversations with various humans on such topics had broken through her carapace and like the strongest of acid, melted away her characteristic bloodlust.
"Have you lost your mind!"
The Lords yelled in unison, feeling with their tendrils that military victory and complete domination was only a planet away.
The Empress refused to say a word.
Naturally, she had work to do.
| |
[WP] "Usually when we first contact a civilization, it is very easy to get them under our banner..." The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though." | "Usually when we first contact a civilization, it is very easy to get them under our banner..."
The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though."
She sat in the throne room, monitoring her fleet in both a holo screen and through the dome canopy of her capital ship as they journeyed through the stars. Where had it all gone wrong?
Humans were a curiosity, at first. No central unity, no overall leader who could feasibly represent such a diverse array of beliefs, views, ambitions, and goals. Monitors from afar indicated that they had established some sort of self-serving, imbalanced council of representatives of each "nation", unironically called "The United Nations", that was the closest thing to a head.
The entire world seemed to teeter on the edge of self-extinction, the planet scarred by conflicts and environmental disruptions, yet at the same time showed almost a gleeful rate of destruction. A notable update was when humans proved their capacity for self-destruction when a small peninsula on the north-western rim of the large body of water, called the 'Pacific Ocean', erupted in a mass of thermo-nuclear detonations. This event had garnered the attention of the Empress and her advisors, that this 'backwater' planet, which had not developed space-faring capability and seemed to be confined to their blue planet, had somehow developed nuclear capabilities. Further reports on the event indicated millions of humans dead and a disruption of the relative stability of human activity. And just a few Sol revolutions later the humans somehow went on with their lives.
The event had gained the attention of her advisors and then to her. How had a squabbling species, who had not developed space-faring capabilities, managed to harness nuclear power? She recalled how eons ago they themselves shunned its use, deemed it too crude and destructive to wield, and even as the humans struggled to move beyond kinetic-based weaponry, they already possess such a potentially destructive power.
The Empire's first mistake had been to send a fleet of scouts to the planet, ostensibly to better understand the humans. In their hubris, they underestimated the other capabilities of the humans. The Empress had watched curiosly through her Monitors, after having executed the remote scout pilots and planners for their blunder, when the humans recovered the Empire's crashed scout crafts.
It was over a dozen Sol revolutions later when human activity drew her attention. Reports showed an explosion of activity and a remarkable progress in technological development. The humans did not have an overall leader, as they somehow managed to retain their "democracy". But they had reverse-engineered the technology on those scout drones that were captured and had, in a blink of an eye to the Empress's eternal lifespan, attained space-faring capabilities. They colonized their system and quickly moved beyond, and their technological level grew by leaps and bounds.
The Empire's second mistake was to wait for much longer before making contact. The Empress had assembled The Grand Fleet and sent her representative, one of her many daughters, to make contact with the humans. She had sent the wrong daughter.
She had been brash, full of pompous pride and hubris. A small slight that would have been understandable for an upstart civilization in the presence of the Empress's grand fleet and her daughter decided to punish them for it. The humans had reacted with extraordinary brutality, pursuing the fleet and bringing such firepower to bear that would have given one of her more hawkish generals to doubt.
The humans employed unorthodox methods, exemplified when they caught her daughter's capital ship in an asteroid field. After battering the outer defenses, they had inserted squads of soldiers through ship-launched pods, and what the humans lacked in physical strength or technological level compared to the Empire's warriors, they made up in their independent tactics and ingenuity. The humans were fluid in their doctrine and exploited her Empire's warriors weaknesses as quickly as they found them. Their kinetic weapons were precise as their chemical explosives were destructive. The last reports were of 'ghosts' breaching the command room before her daughter had been captured and the capital ship towed back as a prize.
She cared not for her daughter's life, the fool who had been slighted when the human delegate looked her in the eye. But she could not afford to allow the humans to hold her hostage, and she decided that she needed to resolves this mess personally.
Now the Empress was on her way, with her a fleet thrice larger than her Grand Fleet that had been destroyed. The humans had sent a message, indicating their willingness to negotiate and patch things up. The Empress would not come unprepared.
As the Empire's fleet emerged out of space jump, they were greeted by the human fleet assembled at the agreed point. The Empress realized then why the humans had asked for such a meeting. Before her fleet loomed the humans, their ships twice their numbers and brimming with weaponry.
For the first time in eons, the Empress felt a shudder run down her back. | "Usually when we first contact a civilization, it is very easy to get them under our banner..." The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though."
At the time no one could have understood what she had meant, knowing quite simply that The Empress had come to that conclusion after years of debate among her court and her military advisers. Initially, scouts were sent daily in order to retrieve human specimens for research. Each time, the scouts would return with bodies and with experimentation we learned about the human species and their ability to think for themselves and possess a means of unique governance known as "democracy". Inevitably, this meant that in both literal and abstract ways our conventional means of communication from the mothership would not reach the leaders of Humanity. Since the very first human came aboard The Empress took personal notice and would watch as the humans were interrogated. In time, she began to keep the humans as "pets" and at every sighting her fellow aristocrats would shudder in disgust. One would not be determined as wrong in assuming her view towards the Humans as anything but that of below even a slave species such as the Tarian.
"I want to speak to my domain, within an hour I will make an announcement."
An hour had come and went, members of the Court still debating on what the content of the announcement would be. Many thought it would be plausible that The Empress would declare a full scale invasion, similar to previous planets that had proved to be invulnerable to low level subversion and mind control.
They could not have been more wrong.
"Citizens of the Claxian Empire, I hereby decree the following..."
In addressing the whole entire Empire across the billions of star systems we had conquered, The Empress had already placed herself in the annals of history without even saying a word. With bated breath, the Empire watched as The Empress took off her gold emblazoned crown and placed down her sceptre, revealing to every man, woman and child that she too was a mere mortal Claxian.
"Earth shall not be invaded."
Within seconds, everything had changed.
Whether those back home on Claxia Prime knew or not, The Empress had become fascinated with human trifles such as "emotion" and "love" and saw the Humans as equals. The notion sounded preposterous even to the Lords that had volunteered to join her in conquering the Milky Way. Yet somehow she had pulled a complete turn, decades later it would appear that her conversations with various humans on such topics had broken through her carapace and like the strongest of acid, melted away her characteristic bloodlust.
"Have you lost your mind!"
The Lords yelled in unison, feeling with their tendrils that military victory and complete domination was only a planet away.
The Empress refused to say a word.
Naturally, she had work to do.
| |
[WP] "Usually when we first contact a civilization, it is very easy to get them under our banner..." The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though." | "Usually when we first contact a civilization, it is very easy to get them under our banner..." The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though."
The assembled collection of interplanetary rulers looked on, faces carefully blank as to not show any emotion that might set their imperial ruler into a rage. Long has it been since the Empress claimed her throne amongst the many countless galaxies she had enslaved, and since then her temper has been legendary for its ferociousness.
"They are..." the Empress started, before trailing off as if the very words she needed had eluded her. "They are beyond our understanding."
The gathered conglomerate of rulers collectively gasped, all pretense of decor abandoned in the face of what their ruler had just stated. The Empress was a rock, an infallible source of leadership and knowledge. To admit that there was something that was beyond her was so rare that none of the species present, some of which lived for centuries, could not remember a moment where it had happened before.
A brave Clixperr, a race of blue-skinned, four eyed insectoids, raised his hand. "Err, your highness? What do you mean? I mean no disrespect, but I find it hard to believe that those... Dirt Walkers... could be beyond you."
The Empress' left antennae twitched, which was usually the first and only sign any creature got before they were removed from existence. Instead of incinerating the creature who dared talk out of turn, however, the Empress simply closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before answering.
"They are... a confusing sort," the Empress replied, temporarily forgiving her subject. "They don't react the way most sentient creatures do."
No one spoke without being addressed this time. Life flashed before their eyes once. It was more than enough for one day. Noticing the obedient silence, the Empress continued.
"Our scouting drones reported back a backwater civilization. They are barely out of Beta Stage of development."
Most aliens at the Empress' table shared a condoned laugh. Beta Stage of Civilized Development was the point where a civilization stopped fighting each other over resourced deemed valuable in the Alpha Stage, and started working coherently toward space travel.
There hadn't been a Beta Stage planet in millennia.
The different creatures reveled in their mockery for scant minutes more before the Empress spoke up once more, her silent words cutting through the chatter like a knife. "And yet, their technology has already reached that of Nevulon Five's."
Nevulon Five, while not the most technologically advanced of the planets under the Empress' rule, was among the best regardless. The room fell into silence once more.
"But... how?" a commander asked. The Empress, apparently feeling generous, let him keep his life as well. Such was the extent that the humans unnerved her.
"We... are unable to tell," the Empress sighed. "That is but an example of a much bigger, underlying problem." The Empress leaned forward, and as one, every other person in the room leaned back. "The humans squabble. They have clear, unrestrained hatred for one another, and everything in our databases say they should take themselves out. And yet... they don't. They continue to thrive amongst each other even though most of their technological and sociological advances are based towards killing each other. They adapt to harsh environments for the sole purpose of proving a point, and they constantly ingest near toxic substances and perform near deadly feats to simply prove they can."
The room was deathly silent. No one dared utter a word about such odd, terrifying creatures.
"Honestly, they are quite impressive. Quite insane, but in a way that would be entertaining. I believe we should extend every courtesy to get them to join. All those against?"
No one dared oppose. The question was a challenge, not a request.
"Good. Meeting adjourned."
As the creatures left, the Empress smiled a wicked smile. She told none of them of the humans' tendency to conquer. They would no doubt go on a spree to eliminate everyone weaker than them, most likely starting with the weaker planets in her own kingdom.
At worse? They would overthrow her. At best, they would whip the more pathetic ones into shape. The Empress shrugged, at least it would be amusing.
And most entertaining indeed. | "Usually when we first contact a civilization, it is very easy to get them under our banner..." The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though."
At the time no one could have understood what she had meant, knowing quite simply that The Empress had come to that conclusion after years of debate among her court and her military advisers. Initially, scouts were sent daily in order to retrieve human specimens for research. Each time, the scouts would return with bodies and with experimentation we learned about the human species and their ability to think for themselves and possess a means of unique governance known as "democracy". Inevitably, this meant that in both literal and abstract ways our conventional means of communication from the mothership would not reach the leaders of Humanity. Since the very first human came aboard The Empress took personal notice and would watch as the humans were interrogated. In time, she began to keep the humans as "pets" and at every sighting her fellow aristocrats would shudder in disgust. One would not be determined as wrong in assuming her view towards the Humans as anything but that of below even a slave species such as the Tarian.
"I want to speak to my domain, within an hour I will make an announcement."
An hour had come and went, members of the Court still debating on what the content of the announcement would be. Many thought it would be plausible that The Empress would declare a full scale invasion, similar to previous planets that had proved to be invulnerable to low level subversion and mind control.
They could not have been more wrong.
"Citizens of the Claxian Empire, I hereby decree the following..."
In addressing the whole entire Empire across the billions of star systems we had conquered, The Empress had already placed herself in the annals of history without even saying a word. With bated breath, the Empire watched as The Empress took off her gold emblazoned crown and placed down her sceptre, revealing to every man, woman and child that she too was a mere mortal Claxian.
"Earth shall not be invaded."
Within seconds, everything had changed.
Whether those back home on Claxia Prime knew or not, The Empress had become fascinated with human trifles such as "emotion" and "love" and saw the Humans as equals. The notion sounded preposterous even to the Lords that had volunteered to join her in conquering the Milky Way. Yet somehow she had pulled a complete turn, decades later it would appear that her conversations with various humans on such topics had broken through her carapace and like the strongest of acid, melted away her characteristic bloodlust.
"Have you lost your mind!"
The Lords yelled in unison, feeling with their tendrils that military victory and complete domination was only a planet away.
The Empress refused to say a word.
Naturally, she had work to do.
| |
[WP] "Usually when we first contact a civilization, it is very easy to get them under our banner..." The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though." | The air stinks of false pleasantries.
Around a table, representatives of the mightiest empire the galaxy had ever known sits across from the upstarts in the Sol system. A cybernetically enhanced group of humanoid creatures bearing a striking resemblance to the species of emperors and empresses. Only a primary difference in skin color and texture, slightly metallic as a natural evolution to a heavily radiated environment.
A human delegation rises and give bows of feigned respect. They have something they call a United Nations governing their systems and colonies, making communicative talks difficult. Too many humans have too many different forms of power. No way to isolate and eliminate their leadership. Their defining characteristic a hatred among their species for different beliefs, governments, even skin colors. But all humans share one common attribute.
An intense hatred of all alien races. The way they see it, humans would rather wipe out all opposing life, in order to focus on kill each other. Can't exactly blame them. The empire hadn't made a peaceful first contact.
The empress rises and gives a slight nod. Her generals and entourage fume, such respect is unworthy of such an entitled race.
Humans are fickle. Loud, violent, loving, hopeful, arrogant, intelligent, idiotic. No one set of morals defines them.
Nearly limitless resources, ships, armies, planets and systems kneel before her throne. Every other race would bow and scrape, awed at the magnificence of the Imperial Fleet and the limitless might of the Empire.
Not the humans.
There is silence. Neither side aims to move first.
The empress waves a hand. A signal.
A smartly dressed General rises, puffs out his chest, and reads into a translator.
"We are willing to discuss terms for an armistice."
Stone faced humans. No emotions from them, and no body language to express any kind of reaction. Perhaps the electronics make them unable to feel.
A human stands and speaks into his translator, as another moves a document towards the imperial delegation. One rises to take it, and opens it before the Empress.
"We have terms. They are non-negotiable."
The Empress can sense the fury of her generals, some of their arms quiver with rage. Their teeth are clenched, eyes narrowed.
She reads the terms.
Immediate cessation of all conflict.
Tributes of various sorts, technological, material, financial.
Trade policies specifically benefiting human settlements.
Surrender of nearly four dozen star systems near their Sol system.
Dissolution of the Empire.
She makes a brief comment and the General stands again, speaking into that black box. If he grips it any harder it will shatter.
"We cannot agree to the dissolution of the empire."
The humans stand in unison, sighing as if they've heard a terrible joke.
"Either agree to the terms, or we will employ them by force."
The aliens rise. It is futile, true. Human weapons are too precise, their drones vastly outnumbering her own pilots. Every ship in her invincible army outclassed and outgunned.
But she had her pride.
She turned to leave, condemning her people to death.
Humans would talk about the first contact war as a minor spat. Ancient cultures ground into dust by their own hands.
None had pity for the dead.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
r/storiesfromapotato | "Usually when we first contact a civilization, it is very easy to get them under our banner..." The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though."
At the time no one could have understood what she had meant, knowing quite simply that The Empress had come to that conclusion after years of debate among her court and her military advisers. Initially, scouts were sent daily in order to retrieve human specimens for research. Each time, the scouts would return with bodies and with experimentation we learned about the human species and their ability to think for themselves and possess a means of unique governance known as "democracy". Inevitably, this meant that in both literal and abstract ways our conventional means of communication from the mothership would not reach the leaders of Humanity. Since the very first human came aboard The Empress took personal notice and would watch as the humans were interrogated. In time, she began to keep the humans as "pets" and at every sighting her fellow aristocrats would shudder in disgust. One would not be determined as wrong in assuming her view towards the Humans as anything but that of below even a slave species such as the Tarian.
"I want to speak to my domain, within an hour I will make an announcement."
An hour had come and went, members of the Court still debating on what the content of the announcement would be. Many thought it would be plausible that The Empress would declare a full scale invasion, similar to previous planets that had proved to be invulnerable to low level subversion and mind control.
They could not have been more wrong.
"Citizens of the Claxian Empire, I hereby decree the following..."
In addressing the whole entire Empire across the billions of star systems we had conquered, The Empress had already placed herself in the annals of history without even saying a word. With bated breath, the Empire watched as The Empress took off her gold emblazoned crown and placed down her sceptre, revealing to every man, woman and child that she too was a mere mortal Claxian.
"Earth shall not be invaded."
Within seconds, everything had changed.
Whether those back home on Claxia Prime knew or not, The Empress had become fascinated with human trifles such as "emotion" and "love" and saw the Humans as equals. The notion sounded preposterous even to the Lords that had volunteered to join her in conquering the Milky Way. Yet somehow she had pulled a complete turn, decades later it would appear that her conversations with various humans on such topics had broken through her carapace and like the strongest of acid, melted away her characteristic bloodlust.
"Have you lost your mind!"
The Lords yelled in unison, feeling with their tendrils that military victory and complete domination was only a planet away.
The Empress refused to say a word.
Naturally, she had work to do.
| |
[WP] "Usually when we first contact a civilization, it is very easy to get them under our banner..." The Empress sighed. "...Not the humans though." | The air stinks of false pleasantries.
Around a table, representatives of the mightiest empire the galaxy had ever known sits across from the upstarts in the Sol system. A cybernetically enhanced group of humanoid creatures bearing a striking resemblance to the species of emperors and empresses. Only a primary difference in skin color and texture, slightly metallic as a natural evolution to a heavily radiated environment.
A human delegation rises and give bows of feigned respect. They have something they call a United Nations governing their systems and colonies, making communicative talks difficult. Too many humans have too many different forms of power. No way to isolate and eliminate their leadership. Their defining characteristic a hatred among their species for different beliefs, governments, even skin colors. But all humans share one common attribute.
An intense hatred of all alien races. The way they see it, humans would rather wipe out all opposing life, in order to focus on kill each other. Can't exactly blame them. The empire hadn't made a peaceful first contact.
The empress rises and gives a slight nod. Her generals and entourage fume, such respect is unworthy of such an entitled race.
Humans are fickle. Loud, violent, loving, hopeful, arrogant, intelligent, idiotic. No one set of morals defines them.
Nearly limitless resources, ships, armies, planets and systems kneel before her throne. Every other race would bow and scrape, awed at the magnificence of the Imperial Fleet and the limitless might of the Empire.
Not the humans.
There is silence. Neither side aims to move first.
The empress waves a hand. A signal.
A smartly dressed General rises, puffs out his chest, and reads into a translator.
"We are willing to discuss terms for an armistice."
Stone faced humans. No emotions from them, and no body language to express any kind of reaction. Perhaps the electronics make them unable to feel.
A human stands and speaks into his translator, as another moves a document towards the imperial delegation. One rises to take it, and opens it before the Empress.
"We have terms. They are non-negotiable."
The Empress can sense the fury of her generals, some of their arms quiver with rage. Their teeth are clenched, eyes narrowed.
She reads the terms.
Immediate cessation of all conflict.
Tributes of various sorts, technological, material, financial.
Trade policies specifically benefiting human settlements.
Surrender of nearly four dozen star systems near their Sol system.
Dissolution of the Empire.
She makes a brief comment and the General stands again, speaking into that black box. If he grips it any harder it will shatter.
"We cannot agree to the dissolution of the empire."
The humans stand in unison, sighing as if they've heard a terrible joke.
"Either agree to the terms, or we will employ them by force."
The aliens rise. It is futile, true. Human weapons are too precise, their drones vastly outnumbering her own pilots. Every ship in her invincible army outclassed and outgunned.
But she had her pride.
She turned to leave, condemning her people to death.
Humans would talk about the first contact war as a minor spat. Ancient cultures ground into dust by their own hands.
None had pity for the dead.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
r/storiesfromapotato | Her appearance was close enough to resemble human, but she was much taller with two pairs of lithe arms, and eyes that were as dark as ink wells. She stood before her throne and looked down upon a crowd of various races.
Calmly, "Tell it to me again." she said. Commanding her room full of advisors that gathered. Her restrained rage was unnerving to her subjects, they all knew she was furious.
There was a shove from one of the advisors, pushing another foreward. A man with blue skin and long feeler like appendages coming out of his head. He too was near human in apperance.
"Well..." He struggled to find the words. "From what we surmize... After initial seeding of the planet... They developed according to predictions." He paused for a moment.
"And then?" Said the empress.
"Well, in their history they developed something called 'democracy', and they strayed from the proper systems of governance. It spread like a cancer ever since."
"What of their kings and queens?" She said. "The central powers of nations?"
"Well... Reduced to figure heads. Now the entire planet has become a democracy and--after a brief rule on their fourth planet, Elon Musk King of Mars... There hasn't been a ruling monarchy since. They each vote and have equal say on their leaders and law."
"And what of my daughters?" She said. "Did they at least find suitable 'leaders' in their government to strengthen our alliances?"
"They... Are refusing to marry, and are choosing to stay among the humans. They are saying they have the right to choose what they do with their lives."
There was a murmur in the crowds as they begun to consider the host of strange new ideas they have been receiving from the humans, and they considered the implications.
The empress nodded... "Send the fleet. Glass the planets." | |
[WP] While you are on the subway you scratch your ear, accidentally signaling a member of a secret organisation that you are one of them. | I noticed him staring at me for an uncomfortable amount of time, and I had started to become uneasy when he turned away and headed further down the subway car. I watched him for a moment before shrugging it off and turning back to my paper, which I finished for the rest of the ride. I winced as the car squealed to a stop, folded my paper, exited and began walking down the tunnel towards the stairs when there he was again, directly in front of me. I stopped abruptly.
“The squirrels are stashing more nuts this year,” he said.
“What?” I replied
“The squirrels are stashing more nuts this year,” he repeated.
“I’m sorry,” I stammered, “I don’t quite know what you’re going on about.” I moved to pass him, and he stepped to the side to continue blocking me.
“Listen. It’s OK. I’m one of you too!” he smiled excitedly.
“I…” I trailed off and stared blankly at him, shaking my head slowly. A puzzled look came over his face.
“Wait,” he seemed to ponder something for a moment, “Is this a test?” he asked with a wry smile.
“A test?” I was starting to get annoyed, “I don’t- what test? What are you talking about? Would you please move out of the way – It’s after 7, I’m tired and hungry and I just want to get home!”
There was another brief pause before, “So you aren’t one of us?” he asked
“One of who!?” I exclaimed “No! I’m not ‘one of you’, whoever “you” are! I’m not one of anybody! I’m just me!”
His finger came to his lips and he tapped them a few times, “You mean, you’re not a secret member? But you scratch-“
“Secret member!?” I interrupted, “Secret member of what?! I work at a fucking call center!”
A look of resignation and disappointment came over his face and his gaze drifted over my shoulder. He mumbled an apology, and seemed at least genuinely apologetic. I sighed and finally pushed past him, and hurried up the steps out into the street.
When I got to the apartment I headed straight to the bedroom, tipped the 5th book on the 2nd shelf toward me three times and triggered the revolving mechanism that exposed the electronic dash board. I simultaneously pressed my finger against the blank screen, whilst leaning forward to place my eye directly in front of the letter “I” on the spine of “Anna Karenina” and waited for the activation tone and the screen to light up.
I began typing immediately:
POSSIBLY COMPROMISED. BOUGHT SOME TIME. THREW HIM OFF. NEED TO LAY LOW. REVIEW RETINAL IMAGING UPLOADED UPON CONNECTION FOR DETAILS. GOING DARK. 30+ DAYS.
_RD | **What?**
I scratched my ear.
She stood up at the moment the train stopped. She was so beautiful.
"We've never met before. We won't meet again. Here is the package."
"What?" That isn't her real hair.
She stood up and said "You know what to do." She disembarked.
She left the door wearing a long grey skirt with a grey jacket and hat. Her hair was long and blonde.
"What?"
"Beep Boop. Doors closing." I could see her through the window running up the stairs. She wore pink jogging shorts, and a longsleeve black T-shirt, her hair tied tight and black. But it was unmistakably her.
I looked at the envelope in my hand. It was sealed.
I looked up to grab the overhead railing. I tucked the envelope in my jacket pocket and scratched my ear. The train stopped.
He walked up behind me. He looks so ordinary. A little short, but no remarkable features. "Eight PM."
"What?" I was too dumbfounded to ask him who he was. I just wanted to get home from work, eat a frozen pizza, drink a glass of water and watch baseball.
He disembarked onto the platform. I had fourteen more stops. Nothing happened for nine stops. Then I scratched my ear and the train stopped.
"The password is: Horse Fortress Courtyard Portrait." He crept up behind me.
"What?" I blurted. I like those words. Horse Fortress Courtyard Portrait. He wore a grey hat and a grey suit. His eyebrows were grey. He didn't say anything and disembarked.
The train stopped 5 more times.
A woman sat behind me and looked up at me holding the overhead railing. She had braided hair and a pink shirt. She was older than my mother.
"Do you know who that was?"
"What?"
"How about the other two?"
"What?"
"Good. Now do you have my envelope?" She looked nice. Not beautiful like the first woman. I gave her the envelope the first woman gave me.
"And what did time did the first man tell you?"
I struggled, and I stammered. "E-e-e-eight PM." She smiled. She had a nice smile and kind dark brown eyes. Her hands were dark and looked soft.
"Can you tell me the password?"
I could! I said it over and over. "Horse Fortress Courtyard Portrait!"
The train stopped and I scratched my ear. The woman with a nice smile was gone. This was my stop.
I disembarked onto the platform and up the stairs. I walked to the end of the block and that's where I met Jeffery.
"Did you have a nice day Jared?" Jeffery asked.
"Horse Fortress Courtyard Portrait". I said and smiled.
| |
[WP] While you are on the subway you scratch your ear, accidentally signaling a member of a secret organisation that you are one of them. | I noticed him staring at me for an uncomfortable amount of time, and I had started to become uneasy when he turned away and headed further down the subway car. I watched him for a moment before shrugging it off and turning back to my paper, which I finished for the rest of the ride. I winced as the car squealed to a stop, folded my paper, exited and began walking down the tunnel towards the stairs when there he was again, directly in front of me. I stopped abruptly.
“The squirrels are stashing more nuts this year,” he said.
“What?” I replied
“The squirrels are stashing more nuts this year,” he repeated.
“I’m sorry,” I stammered, “I don’t quite know what you’re going on about.” I moved to pass him, and he stepped to the side to continue blocking me.
“Listen. It’s OK. I’m one of you too!” he smiled excitedly.
“I…” I trailed off and stared blankly at him, shaking my head slowly. A puzzled look came over his face.
“Wait,” he seemed to ponder something for a moment, “Is this a test?” he asked with a wry smile.
“A test?” I was starting to get annoyed, “I don’t- what test? What are you talking about? Would you please move out of the way – It’s after 7, I’m tired and hungry and I just want to get home!”
There was another brief pause before, “So you aren’t one of us?” he asked
“One of who!?” I exclaimed “No! I’m not ‘one of you’, whoever “you” are! I’m not one of anybody! I’m just me!”
His finger came to his lips and he tapped them a few times, “You mean, you’re not a secret member? But you scratch-“
“Secret member!?” I interrupted, “Secret member of what?! I work at a fucking call center!”
A look of resignation and disappointment came over his face and his gaze drifted over my shoulder. He mumbled an apology, and seemed at least genuinely apologetic. I sighed and finally pushed past him, and hurried up the steps out into the street.
When I got to the apartment I headed straight to the bedroom, tipped the 5th book on the 2nd shelf toward me three times and triggered the revolving mechanism that exposed the electronic dash board. I simultaneously pressed my finger against the blank screen, whilst leaning forward to place my eye directly in front of the letter “I” on the spine of “Anna Karenina” and waited for the activation tone and the screen to light up.
I began typing immediately:
POSSIBLY COMPROMISED. BOUGHT SOME TIME. THREW HIM OFF. NEED TO LAY LOW. REVIEW RETINAL IMAGING UPLOADED UPON CONNECTION FOR DETAILS. GOING DARK. 30+ DAYS.
_RD | “Oh man, I can’t be late for work again.” I say to myself as I run to catch my ride. I make it inside right as doors close. I struggle to catch my breath as I say to myself, “Oh thank God. I made it.”
This could not be the worst day to be sick. First my son comes down with the flu, so I have to take the day off, Sarah goes off missing on one of her personal adventures, then I get in the car accident so not I got to transit to work and now I’m sick. I know what’s at stake. We can’t afford to have anyone else out since Kim is off on pregnancy. It’s okay now. I just have to take the subway to work. I take a seat.
Nervous about the time I take a look at my phone. Awesome I’m on track to be an hour early. But I can feel this sickness catching up on me. I cough to clear my throat. I lean back into my seat dreading the idea of trying to survive the day.
Some little bug lands on the outside of my ear. I can feel it and I use my hand to move it away. “Damn bug” I say to myself.
At that moment a strange man stands in front of me. He’s wearing a brown pinstripe suit, and looks me up and down confused. He pulls out a pocket watch and looks at it. “Well, you aren’t quite what I expected. Come. The next stop is ours. I look at the man confused, “Hey buddy. Look. The next stop isn’t anywhere near my stop.” He looks at me with an eyebrow raised.
Before I know it I’m following him outside the subway. Did he hypnotize me? I look behind me and I see the gates of the subway station. If I go back I should be able to catch the next one and still make it to work on time. Suddenly I hear the man speak, “is that what you really want?” Is he reading my mind? He continues, “to have a simple job and live a simple life? Or would you rather have opportunity?” This man isn’t making any sense. I say, “I don’t know where you get off, but where I work I have a great opportunity.” The man laughs, “more than this?”
We arrive at what looks like a simple apartment complex. He opens the door. I look inside and I don’t believe my eyes. Sports stars, movie stars, politicians and a bunch of people I don’t recognize. Everyone is wearing dingy brown robes. I turn around to talk to the man who brought me here and now he is in a brown robe. I say to him, “what is going on?”
“You don’t know? But you have all the signals.” He says as he points to the far wall. On the wall are four giant bronze statues. There is a chair, a clock, a mouth and an ear. “If you aren’t a member we might as well add you since you already know.” Before I know it I’m in a brown robe a being casual with so many people I see on in movies, TV, the Internet. One of them asks me about my life. I tell them about my life, my job, my son.
“Wait a minute,” I hear from a far corner. “Your son?” I can feel the room come to a hush. As I study the room I realize something. Everyone here has no kids. I think I’ve made a mistake. What is going to happen to me. I see an impressively robed figure walk up to me. “Is your son, Jeff?” Why would this man who has no idea who I am know my son’s name? “Sire, do you know who this is?” I look around and there is my son.
“What are you doing here?” He says. “I have no idea. I was on my way to work and suddenly I was following this man,” the room is now empty except for my son and myself. My son says, “you always ruin everything.” As he punches me in the arm.
I look around and now the subway car is crowded. I look at the arm my son punched and looked at the girl sitting next to me. She just glares at me and then she turns back to her phone. I pull out my phone and look at the time. All I could think was, “I guess I better call in to work and make this sound extra convincing as I prepare my best ‘sick voice.’” | |
[WP] A wizard misplaced his wand when a conductor in a hurry grabbed it by accident. Describe the concert that follows. | A swift flick of his wrist was all it took. Gone. The rusty squeals that had found refugee in his concert hall only a week ago twisted into the glistening symphonic hum bolting through him.
A room full of hand-me-down violins, damp splintered reeds, and half-realized ambition unleashed sounds that could tear Mount Olympus apart. Emmanuel' s anxious hands sprinted across the neck of his cello. Malcolm and his asthma roared with a confidence that would put a fog horn to shame.
And Mr. Wilson , composer of Darton Middle's All-school orchestra for the past the 12 years, found tears of joy running down his arid cheeks. These were lands that had not seen water since Cheryl left that warm September evening. Not since administration had gutted the Orchestras funding to make room for more "8th place regional qualifiers" banners in the gym. A decade ago Mr. Wilson had buried any dreams that his orchestra would obtain even that measly qualifier status. But under current torrent of tears, even the most barren of those hopes began to bloom and loose themselves from their earthy burial graves.
As the music swelled to a crescendo so did his pride.
As the gail of angles gave was to science Mr. Wilson began to shake and shutter. His music had found life. More importantly, his life had found music again.
The glowing vibration oozing out of his core became his sole focus. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and bathed in it. He did not hear the door open. Nor did he see the old man totter his way to the stage to the 27 bewildered children and the jaded middle school teacher (who had coincidentally never needed a cigarette more that at that moment).
It took the old man's frail rasp to stir Mr. Wilson from his euphoria.
"I'm sorry to disturb such wonderous makings, but I'm afraid that I have accidentally left something very important with you."
He raised a wrinkled finger to the instrument in his hand.
Mr. Wilson , in his dreary malaise , had not noticed that his usual baton had been replaced. It only took a look. The aged wood, strange symbols, and raw power eminating was all it took for him to realise that this is where that music had come from. Not his children and certainly not from him.
A dust storm began to ravage his newly planted dreams.
Just as it took Mr. Wilson a glance to understand the power in his hand, a flick of the old man's eyes revealed to him the helplessness of the whelp standing at the helm of the stage. The fact that he was the cause of this was not lost on him.
In a voice that had the slightest tinge of pity he said "I see you understand what I am talking about. And that you understand what it would mean to give it up. I must have that back."
Mr. Wilson had commanded the choir of heaven only to go deaf. A hollowness had given way to splendor but even an empty existence would be preferable to the despair he felt now.
Science was the only response he could muster. The old man understood far too well.
"Yes I'm afraid it's true, you were not responsible for the performance that echoed here. To taste the sweet nectar of that success and to have it rot while still on the lips, that is something I deeply regret."
The pain was visible in his eyes.
"I have seen men lose less and still break. But I can offer one price of advice. You have had the privilege to see the true potential you hold. These young faces full of futures even I can't predict, they will only reach it with proper help. They know it's possible and you know they have ability. Draw it out of them. Make that taste a feast and ,having cooked it yourself, you will experience a fullness you have never known."
He gave a sad smile to Mr. Wilson. Reluctantly Mr. Wilson handed his dreams to the old man and in return received his 20$ baton back.
The old man bowed and left the stage. Mr. Wilson, in every effort to take back what he had lost, took his place at the front of the orchestra. He rose his hand and gave it a flick.
The music hall rang with all the beauty a community college degree and thrift store instruments could ever hope to amount to.
What Mr. Wilson would never see was the smirk of the old man as he left the building.
If asked ,those outside would have said that the voice of God himself sang from the halls of Darton Middle School that night. | **Hey, Tom.**
Morning, Hank. You look like shit today. You going to that meeting with McDonald today?
**Yeah.**
He's been on us about the Garrison account. That's why I've been hiding here in the breakroom for the past hour.
**Relax, Hank. Why so jittery? Didn't you sleep well last night?**
Not at all, man. Cynthia and I went to the symphony and I think someone dosed our food or drink before the show.
**How come?**
There were colors, shapes, and... and THINGS! Like imagine Laser Floyd but with like the greatest CGI ever. I saw a dragon fly up towards the balcony and explode like a firework, and all of the sparks rained down upon us.
**Oh, right! I just read about that on my phone. Man, you were there? You really saw that shit?**
It made the news?
**Whole crowd had a mass hallucination! It wasn't just you.**
It wasn't?
**Yeah, lemme find it. "The cause of the hallucinations turned out to be the conductors baton, which was not a baton at all. It was the wand of a wizard, misplaced backstage by an elderly sorcerer."**
Really?
**Yes, and now you have a story to tell your son.**
He died last April.
**Well, that's your problem. Good luck in the meeting with McDonald. (walks out)**
I wish I was dead.
| |
[WP] A wizard misplaced his wand when a conductor in a hurry grabbed it by accident. Describe the concert that follows. | I remember waking up on the train, the day of the concert. My big debut, after three years of practice, this would be my first public appearance with over a thousand people. Even one TV company bothered to to agree to film it, safe to say, I was stressed. Beyond that actually, I knew getting so little sleep last night was a bad idea, but I made it up on the train ride to the concert. Stretching, I looked about around me, hoping to see when my next stop was coming.
The train was about as ordinary as can be for New York. A few dozen years of deep grime, personalizing each cart differently. This one has a particularity bad stain under the closest pole to me, only god knows what caused it. With only a small handful of people on the cart with me, only two caught my attention. One was a seemingly eleven year old girl, with a massive stack of books at her feet, waiting to be read, and wonderful ginger hair, almost floating in the air with grace and purity. I studied the books, seeing none that looked familiar, not even in language, I wondered what they were. The other being the larger man next to me. He slept with such grace as a cat in the sun, seemingly making the chair bend to his needs. A full head of gun grey hair, absorbing the light that touches it, and a surprisingly long beard of similar colour. He looked although he knew exactly where he wanted to be, even when sleeping. Finally, my eyes saw the text scrolling by, next stop I have to get out.
I eventually rise from my seat, my knees and feet slightly cracking under the newly added weight. I started to fix my suit and tie, looking over my few possessions, and bent to pick up my suitcase and baton, stopping when I see that the baton rolled up next to the large man. I nimbly grab it, hoping I didn't bother the man who is still as stone, and return the baton to my pocket with new found energy.
The train creaks to a stop, moving with such familiarity as it always had, I take my leave off the train, one hand holding the suitcase, the other in my pocket with my baton, rubbing it as I do when stressed. Then I feel it, small but intricate carvings, unfamiliar to me. Jutting to a stop, I take the unfamiliar wooden rod out, and looked at it.
"Christ"
This wasn't even the right grain, colour, or length. Looking back, the doors of the train have closed and began to move onward. I stood there, as though I was a tree. Breathing in, I turned around, and walked on, heading to my destination with determination, there was nothing I could have done.
I arrived with just enough time to spare to get a drink of water, and ask if everyone was ready. We have been practising for eight weeks, and twice blindfolded, if we weren't ready now, we would never be. Everyone began to fill in the seats like water in a glass, every spot taken up, and settled before I could catch my breath. Taking my biggest breath yet, the assistant waved me onto the stage. Striding with the confidence of a old priest, I embraced the atmosphere of the stage, similarly how a person embraced their bed. After I arrive at my podium, I act out my entrance routine with some flourish. Stepping up with a nervous smile, I closed my eyes, and raised the unfamiliar baton. With a flick of my wrists, prepared for the first sharp notes of the song...
I remember waking up on the train.... | **Hey, Tom.**
Morning, Hank. You look like shit today. You going to that meeting with McDonald today?
**Yeah.**
He's been on us about the Garrison account. That's why I've been hiding here in the breakroom for the past hour.
**Relax, Hank. Why so jittery? Didn't you sleep well last night?**
Not at all, man. Cynthia and I went to the symphony and I think someone dosed our food or drink before the show.
**How come?**
There were colors, shapes, and... and THINGS! Like imagine Laser Floyd but with like the greatest CGI ever. I saw a dragon fly up towards the balcony and explode like a firework, and all of the sparks rained down upon us.
**Oh, right! I just read about that on my phone. Man, you were there? You really saw that shit?**
It made the news?
**Whole crowd had a mass hallucination! It wasn't just you.**
It wasn't?
**Yeah, lemme find it. "The cause of the hallucinations turned out to be the conductors baton, which was not a baton at all. It was the wand of a wizard, misplaced backstage by an elderly sorcerer."**
Really?
**Yes, and now you have a story to tell your son.**
He died last April.
**Well, that's your problem. Good luck in the meeting with McDonald. (walks out)**
I wish I was dead.
| |
[WP] You’re an old virus preserved on a floppy disk. Someone decides to plop you into a special adapter releasing you into a confusing new system larger and more complex than you could ever imagine: an old smart phone. | ****Android 4.5 Proto****
8GB RAM SYSTEM. 7.46GB Free
.
.
.
“Ready”.
Load “Protovirus”.
The engineer stared at the both screens waiting for something to
happen. The floppy drive whirred bringing back memories of his
childhood. He thought “I wonder if this will have any effect like it did on
my dad's computer.” He remembered the faint dimming of the lights and
the sparking sound the computer made before the power supply burned
out.
.
.
.
Nothing. The floppy still whirring. 30 seconds pass. 2 minutes pass. The
phone rings. “Hello? Yeah, I'll be home in half an hour. Sorry for being
here so late.” The engineer shakes his head and puts on his coat. He
sets the phone on the desk and walks out, flipping the light switch
before shutting the door.
.
.
.
3 hours later.
.
.
.
The screen clicks on in the darkness. Turns a bright blue and then turns
back to black. As the darkness begins to descend it is interrupted by a
small spark on the back of the open phone as the battery flies out of
the casing leaving a small black spot on the desk.
.
.
.
8 Hours later.
.
.
.
Sipping his morning coffee, the engineer walks into his office to find the
scene from last night. Excitedly, he swaps the floppy drive from the
broken phone to his desktop. He zips the file and emails it to his
devteam.
Re: Firmware update Samsung Note 7, extract and implement
immediately.
“That will teach those bastards to fire me.”
.
.
“End”. | Dormant, the virus lies, uncapped in its humble abode of limited storage, waiting for an opportunity. A disk waiting on its old rusted shelf coated thickly with the dust of a once lively room. Curiosity draws forward a man, no a boy, who's interest lies within this "archaic" technology from beyond their time. Blown off, the disk resumes from a time forgotten, the virus is ready to spread. Plugged in, the virus is dropped into a world of confusion, of a language beyond its comprehension, the world of a smartphone. Flustered, bewildered, the virus is exposed to technology beyond the knowledge of its creators. Ten years ago this was thought of as impossible, a machine from science fiction. Yet the virus is, some odd years later in a land of technological advances, with one mission: spread, conquer, infect. Its outdated technologies witness something unexpected, new opportunities to spread, more than a simple PC, this was a delicate machine with unlimited potential. With that, the virus embedded itself within the very code, spreading tendrils of malware throughout every niche and cranny of the phone. The phone buzzes, "catastrophic system failure" the error message reads. "Little son of a glitch" the boy whispers under his breath, realizing the destruction he's inflicted on his phone. | |
[WP] A human at a bar in the Trade Station tries to rebut some of the stereotypes that exist about humans to the aliens drinking with him | The Station was impressively crowded as Lieutenant James Cogan made his way through the market stalls, past the North Gate, and towards the docks where the shadiest bars waited to comfort him. The best part about port calls this side of the Klimson Asteroid Field was that, in order to get through the field safely, you had to be one of two things: an unbelievably skilled pilot, or batshit insane. Actually, Cogan corrected himself as he walked, it could be both. Like that Tarlayan pilot he’d met on Sang Tamba. Or, honestly, like the lieutenant himself.
He pushed open the door to his favorite dive—well, he tried to. The door seemed to be bolted shut from the other side. Not to be deterred, he headed next door. Also locked.
“The hell?”
“Hey,” came an obviously alien voice from behind him. The tell-tale whirring of the cheap translator devices the Station handed out marked him as a lower class alien, one who couldn’t afford his own tech. Cogan turned to face the creature, and was surprised to find a Lufar. He’d never even heard of one leaving its home planet, let alone guiding people into bars on a Trade Station. And that’s exactly what the lanky, blue-grey creature was doing. “New laws were issued preventing humans from running food and drink related establishments. This place is the only one still open.” The Lufar held the door ajar, and Cogan stepped inside, taking a moment to flick on his own translator.
“Thanks, man, appreciate it,” he said absent-mindedly as he took a look around. The bartender was a Pom-shir, renowned for their appearance. Cogan had heard stories, but tales of half-cricket, half-octopus aliens that shot bioluminescent venom from their eye stalks always seemed a bit far fetched until right this moment.
“No problem,” the alien responded. “I’m Grim, by the way.”
“Cogan,” he said, putting his hand out. The Lufar blinked at the extended arm for a moment.
“Do I... do I touch it?” Grim asked.
“You put out your most dexterous appendage and we clasp digits,” Cogan explained, amused. Grim complied shakily, and Cogan corrected his form. “Then you squeeze just a little, and shake no more than twice. Like so.”
“Wow,” Grim breathed, a sound that didn’t require the translator to whir up a storm. “Gosh, do you think you could teach me some more human customs?”
“One condition.”
“Anything!”
“You’re buying,” he winked.
Th next several hours passed in a blur. He taught Grim and two other Lufar travelers some about humanity—yes, we really *do* intentionally digest poison, what do you think is in this flask? And yes, we did enslave our own people, and we are ashamed. No, we don’t kill people because it’s fun, unless the killer is insane—and they told him about their home planet being attacked by several mercenary ships, taking most of their food and resources to sell to their enemies, resulting in most of the population fleeing beyond the Klimson to avoid slavery or execution.
“Sounds like you guys could use an army,” Cogan slurred.
“We are a peaceful people,” the tallest Lufar, Hijom, protested, shaking its oblong head. “We have never participated in a war.”
“You’re in the middle of one now, though.”
“Perhaps the human is right,” Grim said slowly. “Urik, you’ve studied alien races, right?”
“I believe the best way to defend yourself is to know the habits and nature of those attacking you,” Urik agreed defensively. “I have studied the ways of the Jumi’al extensively.”
“Is that the people who hired the mercenaries?” Cogan asked.
“Yes,” Grim said, “But we do not usually say their name aloud. It is considered bad luck.”
“I don’t believe in luck,” Urik grumbled.
Cogan took another sip from his flask, using the drink he ordered from the Pom-shir as a chaser. “You seem to be a bit of a rebel, Urik.”
“I suppose you could say that.”
“Well, I’ve got a soft spot for rebels.” He finished his flask and squeezed his eyes tight against the burning in his throat. “What would you say to a little outside help?”
Hijom blinked. “But don’t humans usually.... I mean, that is to say...”
“Aren’t humans usually the ones doing the mercenary work?” Urik asked ruthlessly.
“Maybe,” Cogan admitted. “But some of us do help people.”
“What’s in it for you?” Grim wanted to know. “No offense, but humans are very selfish.”
“Ah, there’s a lot you have to learn about humans. Some of our oldest instincts are to protect people.”
The three Lufar exchanged glances, turned off their translators, and had a discussion between themselves. After a few minutes, they reactivated the noisy devices and Grim turned to look at Cogan again.
“Alright,” Grim nodded. “What did you have in mind?” | "Is it true you skin bags actually thought that past quarks there was strings?" The group of listeners leaned in waiting on an answer.
"Well... for a little whi-" I didn't get to finish my sentence before they all burst out laughing.
"You morons! Oho ho ho! Just like an ape to think of things in such simple terms." The group of aliens were howling and slapping each others backs.
I sat there, fuming, my face turning red. Before I could rebuttal another one of them asked a new question.
"Is it true that you only identified 118 elements before discovering interstellar pockets?" The alien threw back the rest of his drink and slammed the empty glass on the table.
"Look, I get it we're a young species but you're not really giving me a fair shot her-" They began laughing again, boisterously.
"Oh it's true! It's true! HA HA HA HA! Stupid apes! 118 elements! Ohhhh that's rich!" They all keeled over from laughter.
"Would you all please just listen!" I shouted out to no avail, they only laughed louder.
I sat there trying to calm myself amongst their shrieks of laughter but I just couldn't contain it any longer. I stood up and punched one of them straight across the bar. He hit the wall and slumped over, knocked out cold.
It got very silent. Everybody sat back down in there chairs and pretended like they hadn't see what just happened.
"Thank you. Now as I was explaining, yes it's true but-" I heard a snicker from a few tables over and I spun around staring hard in the direction of the sound.
More silence. I continued with a little smirk on my face.
"Yes, it's true. But we got here. It just took a little longer. We have a lot of perseverance, never count us out." I finished my drink and looked around at my table.
Several aliens rummaged around in their pockets and placed currency on the table.
"Thanks guys. Glad we came to a mutual understanding of one another." I stood back up and walked out of the bar.
Being a human has it's perks. One of the highest ranking musculature's in the known universe tends to earn you a bit of a brute complex.
I always like to try and prove them wrong.
***
Hope you liked it! other stories over at r/TheYogiBearhaWrites | |
[WP] Randomly one day, one of the presidents on Mt. Rushmore appears to get a nosebleed. A week later, The Statue of Liberty does too. | It’s happening.
My friend Gary had told me about that ancient curse that would allow statues and such to come to life, but I didn’t think someone would perform it. Whatever they did, they screwed us all up.
Washington’s nosebleed was small, not that bad, and was barely noticed. Many chalked it up to fracking or something like that.
It was worse with lady liberty though. She didn’t just get a nosebleed, she would’ve died from blood loss had she been alive. The island looked like it had rained blood, and it started sleeping into the bay at one point.
Scientists determined it was real blood. It was human to. I keep pretending it’s all a dream and that this can’t possibly be happening, that’s the only way I can stay sane!
Then I checked my laptop to make sure that this didn’t go international, and a similar event was spotted on the Sphinx, the mouth was dripping blood.
The statues are on the rise.... | This just in Lady Liberty nose is flooding New York Harbor with blood. This is only one week later since Thomas Jefferson Head at Rushmore first began to do the same. No official statements have been released but so far the best theory is this is some banksy esque message on american politics. The blood found on both scenes has been confirmed to be human but not yet whose it is. Both monuments have been sectioned off in order to investigate and any visitors in the Statue have been taken into to custody. The president has come out on twitter sa-Sorry looks like we have breaking news as New Orleans has apparently been coated in a blood storm. You heard me right viewers thick red liquid is falling from the sky in Lousiana. We don't have video evidence yet but anyone with family or friends in the New orleans area please ask them to send some footage to www.ne-Wait there is more news in #Bloodapocalypse. Lafayette, Colorado has been reported to be flooding with blood spewing from the gr- and Montecello, Virginia, home of Thomas Jefferson; has a hurricane of blood that came out of nowhere. Please if you are in these areas please send footage to www.news14.com. I- reports have been coming in that all listed sites have been connected as the blood manifest across the nation. The #bloodapocalypse has not been confirmed by any goverment sources yet but so far social media is full of it. As we speak new images have surfaced andKADFJKLDJLKDA. Jesus christ that was loud. We have no idea what that was And I'm being told that we are taking an hour hiatus to study new developments. This is
Traître Mauvais with Ohio news 14 sign-hklhkaghkl;ak;lgdkjagldfd...
Faire de nouveau la France française à nouveau,
vive la résistance, du roi Louis est futile
l'Amérique va tomber mourir lâches angl BROADCAST LOST
| |
[WP] As a bartender, you hear the daily hardships and stories of all your regulars. After a lot of thought, you realize their lives are all connected. | I was organizing the bottles when I heard Amanda's familiar, shuffling footsteps behind me. "What can I get for you, Amanda? The usual?"
Amanda's eyes were dark and sunken, and she gripped the bar as if she would fall off any minute. "No. Whiskey."
I obliged. "Bad day?"
She took a deep breath. "The relationship I was in -- it's over."
"I'm so sorry," I said, pouring a beer for another customer. "Why?"
"I got an amazing job offer in Chicago," she said, taking a sip of the whiskey and grimacing. "I don't want to take it, because I don't want to move, because we're in love. But Alex said I should take it, it was the best opportunity, and..." Her voice started to crack. *Uh-oh, here come the waterworks...*
I got a tissue -- and the bottle of whiskey.
***
It was ten minutes till close when Kelly walked in. Her hair wild, her clothes rumpled, she plopped down on the seat and commanded: "Vodka. Just vodka."
"The strong drinks are popular tonight," I said, bringing out a shot glass.
"Yeah, well, I need it." She leaned back in her chair, took a deep breath, and said: "I'm in the middle of a breakup."
"You, too?" I said, handing her the glass. "Everyone's breaking up today."
"Yeah, well, I bet her relationship isn't as bad as mine," she started, after downing the vodka in one go. "Have you ever said something to someone, just to be polite? Like you're hungry, and someone offers you food, and you say no. But really, you're hoping they'll push it and say 'please, have some food, really,' because you're starving."
"Yeah, I guess," I said, cleaning out some of the glasses.
"I said 'take the job.' And I expected a 'no, I really want to stay here with you.' But all I got was silence." She rolled her eyes, brushed herself off, and handed me her card.
As I swiped it through the machine, the name glinted in the light:
ALEXANDRA KELLY | And then it hit me. Shit, they're all bartenders.
Maybell at the end, with the deadbeat husband and abusive boyfriend, turns out she slings at the Wild Pony on Cedar (not the Wild Stallion on Bannon St.).
Stewart, the biggest football fan you'd ever seen, serves off a cardboard box at the stadium.
Reginald Flowers, that Seventies pimp throwback with the glistening fro, gator boots, burgundy velour and fur collar, as you could probably already have guessed, pours at the Pump House (yes, that one - the one with the fire pole and the hydrant that you can -, yeah, that one).
Damae Shin, who only after three years I saw for the first time out of her mime costume, tips saki at the high end sushi bar on Fourth.
And Ducky, that little scamp, our token teenage who we let hang out (hey, every bar has one), does go to college, at least technically; he sells a keg tapping service for the frats at the U (I'm not sure that means what I thought it did because he later said he made ten thousand dollars that weekend).
After the shock passed, I threw my bar towel down and levelled my pointer at each of them. "Now I know why you're all shit tippers." | |
[WP] You are a priest(tess) that has been summoned to exorcise a demon/spirit from a little girl. The thing is, you don’t really truly need to do it, you are just friends with nearly every demon. The only reason you took this job was for the money. | The people in this township are awful in the most complete sense of the word. They were vain, lustful, greedy, and self-interested. They skimped on their taxes, starved and stole from the needy, and kicked the weak when they were down. If you have to ask me, I would have let the lot of them burn. The unfortunate truth however, is that I *really* need the money. And the great thing about overindulgent and self-interested townships is that when their livelihoods were at stake, they would pay out the nose. I cracked my neck and smoothed the wrinkles out of my dress. The day's journey into Harrisburg had been a pain in the ass, literally. You'd think that the Holy See could afford better carriages for one of their core exorcists.
Well whatever, I'll run up some expenses on my way home to really poke at the treasury administrators. I thought about it, or I could just under-report the amount they paid and have the Crusaders trash this place on their way through.
The township's mayor greeted me immediately after I set foot on their dusty soil. He was a disgusting man, fat and old, with a big nose and too many nose hairs. What was left of his hair was grey and I couldn't differentiate between his liver spots and regular filth from his face. He bowed his head, "Oh please," he cried "it's my daughter, Isabelle, she's been possessed by a horrible demon!" He shook his head side to side, "It's awful, it's awful. She's screeching and floating and setting things on fire. She keeps saying that there's a man inside of her, oh, it's awful, it's awful."
I put my hand on his shoulder. His tunic was velvet. How many people starved to death here to afford this I wonder. "Worry not my child," I said, "the Holy See has recognized your problem. But before we get to the solution, I would like to confirm your donation." I set my warhammer on the ground before him. It was huge, beautiful and ornate. Thirty-five pounds of silver and steel wrought into one hell of a weapon. It looked like it was for demon-fighting, but in truth it was mostly to break the bones of bandits and debtors. I put on my best threatening smile.
"Of course, of course..." he stammered as he reached around to pull out a small wooden lockbox. He opened it. "Here... the going rate, thirteen talents."
I picked up one of the gold bars and held it to the setting sun. It looked real enough. I held it close to my lips and licked the length of it. No flavor, so it was at least real on the outside. "The Holy See appreciates your generosity. I hope that this strengthens are future relationships." I put the talent back in the box and heaved the lockbox onto my shoulder. It was much heavier than it should have been. Some of the bars inside must be gilded lead. Yeah, I'm definitely going to pocket the real gold and submit the lead talents to the Holy See. The Crusaders will raze this damned township to the ground. I had to stifle a giggle. These greedy idiots will be overthrown, their children will become vassals of the Church, the land will become Church property. And the best part is that I get to walk away with at least a talent for myself!
"Okay," I said, "show me the girl."
"Oh thank you, thank you," he said, relieved. From his con working, or from being relieved of his troublesome daughter, I have no idea which.
They had locked her in a safe room of old Roman concrete. The structure was fire proof, but already bore signs of heat damage. They opened the door to let me in and I entered, dragging my warhammer behind me dramatically. As soon as I was fully inside the dimly lit room, they shut the door. *Cowardly lot.*
Isabelle, was to my surprise, not as utterly disgusting as her father. In fact, if I had to say so myself, she was quite comely. She had delicate golden hair, alabaster skin, and deep black eyes. She was sleight of frame with long slender legs. The chains that bound her were iron seared with burn marks. I had to laugh at the cruelty on display. She looked up, "Mary? Mary, is that you?"
Fire, German, possesses young girls, man inside of her. It could really have only been one person. "Heyo Loge, how are you doing for yourself?"
"Mary!" Loge/Isabelle stood up, rattling the chains that bound him/her. "It's been years, decades even! How have you been? By and by, the last time I saw you, you were still a mewling infant clutching your mother's robes!"
"I'm doing well. I've taken up the family mantle, as well as the family hammer." I looked down at my warhammer. Loge had actually been one of the "demons" to bless the thrice damned hunk of metal. "So why have you taken to terrorizing this township?"
"Well, wouldn't you believe it Mary," Loge motioned toward the township, "they were 'expanding their fields' or something and they started encroaching on my sacred ground. And when I sent a warning, they ignored it! They said that they could just pay the Church to bless the ground and remove the influence of the old gods. Can you believe that!?" Loge fumed, quite literally. Flame was spontaneously appearing around Isabelle's head and hands. "They trampled my field, tore down my alters, and dug up my sacrifices, just so they can plant their stupid rye."
I nodded, "I agree, they're terrible people."
"And then they have the gall to call me a 'demon!'" he exclaimed. Fire and brimstone sputtered out of Isabelle's hands as he said so, setting some cinders aflame on the concrete floor. "Why I ought to take all of their daughters and burn the rest of their stupid city down."
"Well that is a bit of a problem. I'm being paid to ask you not to do that."
"Naturally," Loge said. He was a lot more understanding than I remembered him being. I suppose that if I were him, I'd also rather be eating and drinking eternity away instead of punishing mortals. "So you're here to banish me, is that right? You're just as serious as your mother was."
I ran my hand alongside my hammer's leather grip, "Well, don't worry. Once you leave, I'm reporting this township for tax evasion, and that should put it on the travel path for the next crusade."
"Oh that's barbaric," Loge laughed, then he got serious, "but the crusaders, won't they harm the women and children? They were pretty indiscriminate the last time around."
"Don't worry about it," I assured, "I'll make it my personal duty to evacuate all eligible sisters of the faith to a secure nunnery."
"Good, good," Loge sat down. He seemed relieved. "I'll go now then, it's so *boring* sitting here and holding this girl hostage." Then in a burst of fire, he left. Isabelle crumpled to the floor, unconscious and covered in ash.
I walked up to her and cleaned her of the fine dust. I wouldn't have her breathe that muck in while she's unconscious. It's bad for the lungs. I set her against the wall and then turned to leave. The sun had set outside and the air was crisp, save for the acrid scent of fresh cinder. The mayor greeted me again, bowing his ugly head. "Is she okay? Is my Isabelle okay?"
"Hm," I mused, "yes. I think Isabelle will be just fine. Now if you would excuse me, I have to file a report to my superiors. Then maybe I'll be back to follow up on this exorcism. Say... in 1218 or something like that." | The thing is, I'm down to the last few dollars, and I needed the contract. The paranormal PI business wasn't what it was even just a few decades ago. Personal photography had scared away all but the most determined of paranormal entities, for the last thing they wanted was to wind up on some tween's instagram feed. I was behind on my rent, and had pulled pretty much every favour I could muster to get this far without a job.
"She's in pain, hurry up!" Mrs Robinson barked.
"I'm concentrating!" I snapped back, when in all honesty I sort of glazed over there for a second. "It's not all 'Power of Christ Compels You' bullshit, this is real. It takes time."
"Sorry, please, do something fast" she replied. "We found her like this last night."
Her daughter lay strapped to the bed, with leather cuffs around her ankles and wrists as to not hurt herself or more importantly, myself, as I performed the ritual.
"Iddybob Wishybob Adabiddybob" she uttered, wriggling on the bed before letting out a high pitched squeal followed by a laugh too deep to be naturally hers, gripping the bedsheets with her tied hands.
"Please!" Mrs Robinson held her daughters hand as the squirming continued.
"Alright , I've confirmed that there is indeed a demonic force currently in play here, the trick is to identify the particular demon and have it let go of your daughter. No physical force in the world will be enough, it needs to be communicated to on its own terms."
I wasn't one for theatrics but clients definitely feel a little ripped off if you simply walk up, say the True Name of the demon to banish it, and leave again. They'd rather the whole Exorcist approach, be thankful to have their daughter back safely in their arms, and pay my generously low hourly fee.
I probably sell myself short. Knowing the True Name of most of the regular demons is no simple feat. It's not enough to know their name, you have to know every pitch adjustment, inflection, accidence, and modification of their name. Many people in the world are called Sam Smith, but you can guarantee that every Sam Smith says their own name just slightly differently, enough to be as unique as a fingerprint. Demons were exactly the same, but knowing the True Name of demons was incredibly powerful to the right being.
I close my eyes, and analyse what I know about the demon at play. A demon to be certain, but which one was it.
"Wicky Wobby Weeeeee" the daughter let out, still thrashing around.
I squeeze my eyes shut in an attempt to meditate on the demon, and then it hit me like a train.
"Incubrax" I whisper, barely audible over the daughters cries.
"What?" Mrs Robinson asked me.
"Incubrax, get out now. Incubrax, Incubrax, Incubrax." I continue, louder with each repetition of the demons True Name.
"Raaawrrrr" the daughter yelled in two tones, a duality of a girls high pitched squeal, and an unnatural lower tone at the same time.
The lights flickered for a moment, and then the daughters eyes blinked, opening them and focusing them on her mother. "Mom?"
"Oh my god" Mrs Robinson said, holding her hands to her mouth, visibility past the verge of crying as a tear fell down her cheek.. "You're OK."
"Thank you so much for getting my daughter back to me. I don’t know how to repay you."
"Just pay your invoice before the 20th of the month and I'll be happy.", I reply, trying to make a move for the exit before any awkward questions come up.
"Thank you, again, for everything."
"Don't mention it." I call back as I gently close the door behind me.
"Incubrax where do you think you're going!" I call down the street, as a spectral being, no taller than a chair, comes into view.
"I'm sorry Sir, I thought you were on holiday, Please sir, it'll never happen again." Incubrax begged of me.
"Please, Mr Fur, Forgive me. Her boyfriend jumped out the window when he heard her mother.. They were making too much noise. Fun noise, but noise none the less. I had to continue where he left off."
"It's alright Incubrax, but please, have your fun with someone more age appropriate next time eh, she only turned 18 yesterday."
"Yes Mr Fur, I'm Sorry Sir, I'll remember that. She did love it though."
"Haha, She did didn't she. And please, call me Lucy."
| |
[WP] You are a priest(tess) that has been summoned to exorcise a demon/spirit from a little girl. The thing is, you don’t really truly need to do it, you are just friends with nearly every demon. The only reason you took this job was for the money. | Cleric Johan followed the villager through the hot, damp Bleakstone streets. Bleakstone was exactly like it's name implied: bleak. The squat, square structures were all precisely placed in orderly rows, but completely lacking in any color or personality, much like the residents themselves. The good people of Bleakstone were the serious, earnest, straight-laced, rule-following type. The type of people that Johan never really could believe existed without witnessing it for himself. Case in point: despite it being well after midnight, the village elder Boggs who was acting as his guide insisted on keeping to the walking street even when the wagon street would be much faster.
"Couldn't we just cross it, just this once?" Johan asked after being guided the long way around a third intersection.
"Everything in order, holiness," the elder responded. That particular phrase was really starting to wear on Johan. Everything in order. He probably heard that at least thirty times a day. And as if that weren't enough, elder Boggs proceeded to launch into a long explanation on how carts and wagons must keep to the wagon path, and if people were to always be in their way, they might think they can go around using the walking path, and then where would we be. Chaos!
Honestly Johan was delighted to have been appointed the head priest of the Holy Order of the Goddess Magdeline in Bleakstone. It had been a substantial promotion, one he would have had to wait years for back in the Chantry. But it had come with some substantial drawbacks. Bleakstone interpreted an off-handed statement from ol' Maggy about not letting magical power go to your head to mean that all magic was completely forbidden. That left this town completely without the amenities of magical modern life. No toilets, no showers, no air conditioning, they were basically medieval. The lack of air conditioning honestly bothered him the most. Bleakstone was muggy and hot all year long. Johan still used magic of course, but the townspeople resented him for it, even though the entire reason this town even had a certified priest was because they need someone who could perform exorcism spells. Although true exorcisms were extremely complex and difficult spells, quite beyond Johan's abilities. And there were theological differences. The Bleakstoners saw the goddess Magdeline as something incomprehensible and terrifying. She was, but to Johan, Maggy was a person you could talk to. And you better not let a Bleakstoner hear you calling their goddess "Maggy". All that together had left Johan completely unable to make any friends in the city. Any human friends, that is...
Finally, Cleric Johan and elder Boggs arrived at their destination. Another squat gray house, exactly like all the others, except this one had another elder, Brent, waiting outside to greet them. Even if he weren't the only other person outside at this hour, Johan would've known this was the place by the expression elder Brent wore. From the most backwater village in the Empire to the middle of the Chantry, everyone kind of has the same look on their face when these things happened. Not a little fear, but also a small smile, as if we were sharing a terrible secret. There's *evil* here.
Johan stepped inside with only a nod for elder Brent. In the main room, a teenage girl sat tied tightly to a chair. Johan knew her, Clarise. She was about four years younger than him. She was pretty, fair-haired, and like most of the girls in Bleakstone, heart-breakingly dull. And her eyes glowed with a black deathlight that cast the entire room in a unnatural shadow that obscured features but sharpened outlines. She was a mess, covered in grime, bleeding from the mouth, and hair all in a tangle. Johan couldn't decide if this was a step up or down from the way she normally looked. At least it wasn't boring.
"Johan? Is that you?" Clarise asked in the demon tongue, her voice echoed by a deep, rasping voice that seemed to come from everywhere at once.
"Signak! Bro! What's up, man?" Johan intoned.
"Not much, I..." Signak responded with a frown, "Why are you talking like that?"
"Doing my job, man. These guys don't know this language, but they think that I'm an exorcist, remember? Don't suppose you could like, play the part a little."
"Oh yeah man, of course," Signak responded with a shriek. He snarled and struggled against the restraints, even managing to float in the air a couple inches. The small group of elders who were standing back from the beginning were practically hugging the wall at this point.
"Cool thanks," chanted Johan, "Anyways what are you up to? I didn't know you were in town. Also, you're a frost demon, right? Care to help me out with this heat?"
Signak thumped back down to the ground and went eerily still. A wicked grin spread across her face and Signak's evil laugh shook the room. Frost started to spread out from where Clarise's possessed body sat. The room went from swampy hot to refreshingly cool.
"Just doing my thing man," Signak finally responded, "Made a pact with this one. I play messenger between her and her dead mom for a bit, and she let's me use her body for a day to try out doing human things. Pulling out my eyebrows, writing poetry in my own feces, eating jam... You know, human stuff."
“Alright, I hear you. You about done? The evil hour is only like a half hour away so your contract is almost up. Oh, and I’m gonna pull out my spell cantrip. Can you pretend to be afraid of it?” Johan shouted the last part, and pulled out the holy symbol he used as a magical aid. Signak played his part well. He burst out of his restraints, and retreated backwards up to the corner of the wall and the ceiling.
“Yeah, I mean, I kind of lost track of time. I never got to try jam.” Signak complained.
“I require jam!” Johan shouted in the common tongue. Jam was promptly produced by a terrified townsman.
Johan pulled Signak down to the floor, and with a hand on Clarise’s throat, forced a spoonfull of jam into her mouth.
“Oh angels teats this is incredible! No wonder you guys eat food! This is way better than feces!” Signak grinned.
“That’s good. Pretend you hate it,” Johan said, and put another spoonful into Clarise’s mouth.
For the next few spoonfuls, Signak screamed and wretched. Finally, he vomited a filthy black ink that separated into hundreds of spiders when it hit the ground.
“Thanks man,” Signak said, “Ok I can do you a solid and get out of here, now.”
Johan pocketed the rest of the jam. They would just burn it if he gave it back. Then he cast a spell of light on his cantrip and started shouting bravely, “One more thing, Jizzrah the Foul is throwing a party in the Witchwood tomorrow. He would be pissed if he knew you were in town and didn’t show. You gotta come!”
The priestlight pressed against the deathlight in a dazzling burst of energy. This was Johan’s favorite part of these things. The lights warred and mixed, creating bursts of sparks, and small explosions of cold flame.
Signak screamed as if in pain, “Awesome! See you then.”
The light in the room returned to normal, and a free and tragically normal Clarise started sobbing. Her father rushed over to her. “Oh bless you! Bless you Cleric Johan!”
“Just doing my job, sir. Just doing my job.”
edit: ok I added little more description to the final showdown here. And commented a couple more parts. Don't know how well they turned out compared to this first part. Let me know what you think! | "Sir!" The man quivered as he spoke. Of course. Who wouldn't quail before a man who ~~treats with~~ banishes demons? Unbidden, visions of *Constantine* dance in my head.
"Where is the subject?" I try my best to sound cold and impartial. The kind of man who would ~~treat with~~ banish demons.
"J-j-just down the hall sir. On the left." I nod, affix an arrogant and haughty expression to my face.
"Now you understand, I need utmost privacy for my rituals?" Damn! It still sounds too much like a request.
"O-of course sir!"
Down the hall, on the left, I enter the room. The body convulsed, and the woman hissed as I entered. My facade clears instantly.
"Gregathor, really. Your mother misses you."
The body stills.
"All this buisness, running off, possessing mortals, and you didn't even leave a note?" I shake my head. "She just wants to know where you've been. Do you know why?"
A sullen silence from the abomination.
"Because she loves you, Gregathor. Now go! Let this poor human be." As the throughly chastised demon rose from the body, I called out "and tell your mom I send my regards!" | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "There's going to be another?"
Oh shit what did I say. The words 'world war one' should not be uttered at this point in time. I'm definitely gonna lose my license when I get back to my own time. Quick, think of a response!
"What are you talking about? There's gonna be another what?"
"World war! You just said World War One, this implies another war is coming. Is this true?"
"... I can't tell you anything about the future, I explained this to you!"
I hope reinforcing rules will work. It usually does.
"Okay... I'm not gonna ask for details, but. When this war is over, if it's going to be over, can I then live my life without fear. Please, I need this answer to be honest."
" No. You are not gonna live without fear."
"I KNEW IT! There are going to be more world wars, I need to contact the coman-"
I cut him off. I can't have him leak information. So I try my best to be intimidating.
"I swear, if you go and contact the commander, or any other living being to tell them about me, or anything I've told you, you won't get to see the light of day again." |
“No.”
I shut my eyes tightly for a heartbeat and shake my head imploringly. Why can’t this man just believe me; why can’t he see the desperation that is radiating from my very being? (Control your emotions, I think, repeating the mantra that has been drilled into my head. Stay calm.)
“Sir, sir, please, you have to understand—!” I’m begging him, now. My head is spinning; how can I be failing at my only job! I came back to 1918, leaving everything I know behind, just for this...
He stares at me with his dark, piercing gaze, and his gaze a mixture of disbelief and veiled curiosity. “I can’t believe you without proper evidence, miss. Please, tell me why I should travel to Germany, spending an exorbitant amount of money along the way.”
“You have to understand,” I repeat desperately. And, in my fearfulness and scramble to convince him, I make my greatest mistake yet.“That war—the Great War, World War One—is not the end of turmoil. Please!”
And he goes extremely still, blanching. I freeze, too, and begin to feel confused, until he speaks again. His tone is hushed and beyond fear-filled. It’s pure terror. Until this moment, I never realized the power of one, simple phrase, how much emotion three small words can convey.
“World War One?” | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | Silence hit the table I was at. Alone in 1918, I sat at a table in Chinatown, San Fransisco, across from a well dressed banker and a surprisingly well dressed butcher. The brothers had tea with each other weekly, and after working for the butcher for a few months, I had been invited along
And then suddenly... laughter. The brothers let out a roar of laughter each, rocking the tea off our table, and across the floor "Oh, a world war?! Theres no way that could ever happen!" The banker said, reaching a lanky arm across the table to pat my shoulder "What, would South America be fighting Africa, Asia and Australia, and us with the Europeans? Or are you saying Antartica will rise and fight us for domination?" He added, and as his fatter brother wiped tears from his eyes
"Ah, it was just a joke. From home... Whenever things seem to good, we joke that the World will have a war across all of it... He he." I said, sweating as I could have just ruined history |
“No.”
I shut my eyes tightly for a heartbeat and shake my head imploringly. Why can’t this man just believe me; why can’t he see the desperation that is radiating from my very being? (Control your emotions, I think, repeating the mantra that has been drilled into my head. Stay calm.)
“Sir, sir, please, you have to understand—!” I’m begging him, now. My head is spinning; how can I be failing at my only job! I came back to 1918, leaving everything I know behind, just for this...
He stares at me with his dark, piercing gaze, and his gaze a mixture of disbelief and veiled curiosity. “I can’t believe you without proper evidence, miss. Please, tell me why I should travel to Germany, spending an exorbitant amount of money along the way.”
“You have to understand,” I repeat desperately. And, in my fearfulness and scramble to convince him, I make my greatest mistake yet.“That war—the Great War, World War One—is not the end of turmoil. Please!”
And he goes extremely still, blanching. I freeze, too, and begin to feel confused, until he speaks again. His tone is hushed and beyond fear-filled. It’s pure terror. Until this moment, I never realized the power of one, simple phrase, how much emotion three small words can convey.
“World War One?” | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | I'd hate to break it to you, friend, but they called it "World War I" then too. The term "First World War" was first used in September 1914 by the German biologist and philosopher Ernst Haeckel, who claimed that "there is no doubt that the course and character of the feared 'European War' ... will become the first world war in the full sense of the word," citing a wire service report in The Indianapolis Star on 20 September 1914. |
“No.”
I shut my eyes tightly for a heartbeat and shake my head imploringly. Why can’t this man just believe me; why can’t he see the desperation that is radiating from my very being? (Control your emotions, I think, repeating the mantra that has been drilled into my head. Stay calm.)
“Sir, sir, please, you have to understand—!” I’m begging him, now. My head is spinning; how can I be failing at my only job! I came back to 1918, leaving everything I know behind, just for this...
He stares at me with his dark, piercing gaze, and his gaze a mixture of disbelief and veiled curiosity. “I can’t believe you without proper evidence, miss. Please, tell me why I should travel to Germany, spending an exorbitant amount of money along the way.”
“You have to understand,” I repeat desperately. And, in my fearfulness and scramble to convince him, I make my greatest mistake yet.“That war—the Great War, World War One—is not the end of turmoil. Please!”
And he goes extremely still, blanching. I freeze, too, and begin to feel confused, until he speaks again. His tone is hushed and beyond fear-filled. It’s pure terror. Until this moment, I never realized the power of one, simple phrase, how much emotion three small words can convey.
“World War One?” | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | I had come to the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month of 1918 to hear the guns fall silent. I had ended up with a British unit on the western front and was trying to blend in as a journalist reporting on the armistice.
I was reporting on it, but it was for the 500th anniversary. Everyone in the history department had worked so hard to get access to the machine and for it to be a representative from the University of Michigan to be sent back and be able to 'remember the day' for the whole world.
A few last guns fire in the distance, rifles, machine guns, and one lone piece of artillery. As the hour approaches they slow until at 11:00am silence falls. But there are no sounds of wildlife. The soldiers around begin to cheer, they now can believe that they will be going home.
Moving away from the crowd of enlisted I found myself next to a British officer as I said out loud to myself, "So that's the end of World War I."
The reality of what I had said quickly changed my solemn demeanor to fear of what the lieutenant colonel who clearly heard me would do with that information. He said to me, "[Indeed, I shouldn't be surprised if we had a second world war before too long.] (http://qi.com/infocloud/the-first-world-war)" |
“No.”
I shut my eyes tightly for a heartbeat and shake my head imploringly. Why can’t this man just believe me; why can’t he see the desperation that is radiating from my very being? (Control your emotions, I think, repeating the mantra that has been drilled into my head. Stay calm.)
“Sir, sir, please, you have to understand—!” I’m begging him, now. My head is spinning; how can I be failing at my only job! I came back to 1918, leaving everything I know behind, just for this...
He stares at me with his dark, piercing gaze, and his gaze a mixture of disbelief and veiled curiosity. “I can’t believe you without proper evidence, miss. Please, tell me why I should travel to Germany, spending an exorbitant amount of money along the way.”
“You have to understand,” I repeat desperately. And, in my fearfulness and scramble to convince him, I make my greatest mistake yet.“That war—the Great War, World War One—is not the end of turmoil. Please!”
And he goes extremely still, blanching. I freeze, too, and begin to feel confused, until he speaks again. His tone is hushed and beyond fear-filled. It’s pure terror. Until this moment, I never realized the power of one, simple phrase, how much emotion three small words can convey.
“World War One?” | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "World War One was a doozy!"
"What do you mean? The Great War is the last of its kind by the grace of God."
"Oh, you think that now, but I am here to warn of World War 4, if mankind doesn't unite under one banner then the creatures from beyond will surely win."
*Shows the crowd a picture from the game Resistance*
"I call on all world leaders and powers to put aside petty desires and think of the future. If we are to survive the coming war, we must be as one people and one voice."
70 years later, no invasion happened, but every major conflict of the 1900's after World War One was avoided due to fear of an outside enemy. The time traveler died in a bar fight in 1933. |
“No.”
I shut my eyes tightly for a heartbeat and shake my head imploringly. Why can’t this man just believe me; why can’t he see the desperation that is radiating from my very being? (Control your emotions, I think, repeating the mantra that has been drilled into my head. Stay calm.)
“Sir, sir, please, you have to understand—!” I’m begging him, now. My head is spinning; how can I be failing at my only job! I came back to 1918, leaving everything I know behind, just for this...
He stares at me with his dark, piercing gaze, and his gaze a mixture of disbelief and veiled curiosity. “I can’t believe you without proper evidence, miss. Please, tell me why I should travel to Germany, spending an exorbitant amount of money along the way.”
“You have to understand,” I repeat desperately. And, in my fearfulness and scramble to convince him, I make my greatest mistake yet.“That war—the Great War, World War One—is not the end of turmoil. Please!”
And he goes extremely still, blanching. I freeze, too, and begin to feel confused, until he speaks again. His tone is hushed and beyond fear-filled. It’s pure terror. Until this moment, I never realized the power of one, simple phrase, how much emotion three small words can convey.
“World War One?” | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | Not a story but the term world war one (or first world war) was actually first used in 1918. It appeared as the title for Lieutenant Colonel Charles à Court Repington's war memoirs. The memoir was published in 1920, but he had noted his discussion on the term with a Major Johnstone of Harvard University in a diary entry of his in 1918. So I mean it would seem rather strange to be using that term but not too out of the ordinary. |
“No.”
I shut my eyes tightly for a heartbeat and shake my head imploringly. Why can’t this man just believe me; why can’t he see the desperation that is radiating from my very being? (Control your emotions, I think, repeating the mantra that has been drilled into my head. Stay calm.)
“Sir, sir, please, you have to understand—!” I’m begging him, now. My head is spinning; how can I be failing at my only job! I came back to 1918, leaving everything I know behind, just for this...
He stares at me with his dark, piercing gaze, and his gaze a mixture of disbelief and veiled curiosity. “I can’t believe you without proper evidence, miss. Please, tell me why I should travel to Germany, spending an exorbitant amount of money along the way.”
“You have to understand,” I repeat desperately. And, in my fearfulness and scramble to convince him, I make my greatest mistake yet.“That war—the Great War, World War One—is not the end of turmoil. Please!”
And he goes extremely still, blanching. I freeze, too, and begin to feel confused, until he speaks again. His tone is hushed and beyond fear-filled. It’s pure terror. Until this moment, I never realized the power of one, simple phrase, how much emotion three small words can convey.
“World War One?” | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | I was sent back in time, but I couldn't really figure out where I was. Snow was falling from the sky and I could feel the windchill in my bones. A blizzard was brewing up. Stumbling through the streets, my first mission was to figure out what year I was sent back to. A young chap walking in my direction looked at me in shock. I didn't have coat on after all.
"Excuse me, excuse me." I attempted to slow down the young man. "Would you know what day it is?" Shivering from the deadly chill I tried not to mumble.
I knew something was off when I asked him that question, but I couldn't pinpoint what it was. The effects of time travel and the cold left me too disoriented.
"This is Wednesday." he responded. "Are you alright sir?"
Only then did I realize that I was speaking to him in German. I never learned German. Is this another side effect of time travel? I thought to myself.
"I'm sorry, but do you know the date?" I asked. Slowly jumping in the same spot trying to keep myself warm with what energy I had left.
He quickly took of his coat and wrapped it around my shoulders. "Sir, you shouldn't be out in this cold. Come with me, I live on the next block."
It's not like I had a choice. It was too cold to be out in this blizzard and I would surely die if I stayed out.
We made our way in, but I was still shivering. He quickly put a kettle on the stove to heat up some water and disappeared into another room for mere 20 seconds. He returned with a blanket in his hand.
"Here sir, I'm heating up some water so you can have some hot tea to warm yourself up. In the meantime wrap yourself in the blanket, it would help."
I took the soft wool blanket and like a silkworm wrapped the blanket around myself.
"Would you know what date it is?" I asked the young man again.
This time he responded. "Its December 15th, 1918. Did something happen to you sir? We should tell the police if somebody robbed you."
"No, No." I said. "So World War One Ended already. That's good. And the second hasn't started yet." As soon as the words left my mouth I realized my grave mistake.
The young chap in shock stumbled back and fell into a chair.
"What do you mean World War One?" He asked.
The kettle began to whistle on the stove, water bubbling like a geyser, began to boil out of the kettle.
I said to him "The water is boiling. You might want to turn that off."
He sat there looking at me not hearing my words. It took him about twenty seconds to collect himself before he went to turn the kettle off.
He made some tea and took out some food from the fridge and set it at the table. Without speaking a word he sat right next to me and poured both of us a cup.
"Thank you for your hospitality." I said, wrapping the hot cup of tea with my hands. "Not many people would invite a stranger into their home at this late hour."
Taking a slow sip from the cup was like taking a sip straight from the kettle. The tea was boiling hot, but as soon as it hit my throat I felt a warm sensation throughout my body.
"So what's your name sir? And why were you out there in the cold?" he asked me.
"Well you see, my name is Leon," I said to him trying to stall the conversation "It was my best friend's birthday yesterday and we might have had too much to drink."
He looked at me without blinking, staring through my soul. I knew he didn't believe me and all because of my stupid remark earlier.
To be courteous I asked him back "How about yourself?"
He took a drink from the boiling hot cup like he was drinking lukewarm water.
A chill went down my spine as he placed his cup on the table.
He responded "My name is Adolf, sir."
|
“No.”
I shut my eyes tightly for a heartbeat and shake my head imploringly. Why can’t this man just believe me; why can’t he see the desperation that is radiating from my very being? (Control your emotions, I think, repeating the mantra that has been drilled into my head. Stay calm.)
“Sir, sir, please, you have to understand—!” I’m begging him, now. My head is spinning; how can I be failing at my only job! I came back to 1918, leaving everything I know behind, just for this...
He stares at me with his dark, piercing gaze, and his gaze a mixture of disbelief and veiled curiosity. “I can’t believe you without proper evidence, miss. Please, tell me why I should travel to Germany, spending an exorbitant amount of money along the way.”
“You have to understand,” I repeat desperately. And, in my fearfulness and scramble to convince him, I make my greatest mistake yet.“That war—the Great War, World War One—is not the end of turmoil. Please!”
And he goes extremely still, blanching. I freeze, too, and begin to feel confused, until he speaks again. His tone is hushed and beyond fear-filled. It’s pure terror. Until this moment, I never realized the power of one, simple phrase, how much emotion three small words can convey.
“World War One?” | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "You know what sucks? Everything. Grenades, gas attacks, even the horses are pissed. All this shit about World War One.."
He staired right into my eyes.
"What?, he asked slowly. Definitely not sure if i was crazy or not. I starred back. Thinking about how to get out of this.
"..nce told me the world is gonna roll me, i'm not the sharpest tool in the shed."
"Ah well. You aren't. He rolled his eyes, looking back at the frontline."
I felt the relief. But i also was a little concerned. I could just hope that this guy didnt use a diary. Because i'd bet his grand grand sons would be absolutely confused about this and how to handle smash mouth further on. |
“No.”
I shut my eyes tightly for a heartbeat and shake my head imploringly. Why can’t this man just believe me; why can’t he see the desperation that is radiating from my very being? (Control your emotions, I think, repeating the mantra that has been drilled into my head. Stay calm.)
“Sir, sir, please, you have to understand—!” I’m begging him, now. My head is spinning; how can I be failing at my only job! I came back to 1918, leaving everything I know behind, just for this...
He stares at me with his dark, piercing gaze, and his gaze a mixture of disbelief and veiled curiosity. “I can’t believe you without proper evidence, miss. Please, tell me why I should travel to Germany, spending an exorbitant amount of money along the way.”
“You have to understand,” I repeat desperately. And, in my fearfulness and scramble to convince him, I make my greatest mistake yet.“That war—the Great War, World War One—is not the end of turmoil. Please!”
And he goes extremely still, blanching. I freeze, too, and begin to feel confused, until he speaks again. His tone is hushed and beyond fear-filled. It’s pure terror. Until this moment, I never realized the power of one, simple phrase, how much emotion three small words can convey.
“World War One?” | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | We had managed to find an empty room somewhere and commandeered a desk and two chairs. Outside was chaos, men scurrying to and fro in preparation for the Great Offensive that would finally bring The Enemy to his knees. In here, it was quiet as the tombs of millions.
I looked at the Lieutenant-Colonel, his face stony as the Cliffs of Dover, all hard and white and slowly crumbling as battle after battle breaks upon it. Great boulders shifted when he frowned in thought, and when his chalky lips parted they issued a voice much different from the one he used among his men.
"They simply call it 'The War', you know. *Their* war. Everyone involved is too busy just keeping their heads down. Those who kept theirs in the clouds and had a chance of seeing the bigger picture got them shot clean off a long time ago."
I nodded, remembering a story I had once read about a young boy and a bird. "Please go on, sir."
"They might call it the *Great* War, when it's done and there's time to think, but we already used that one for Napoleon."
"The *German* War, perhaps? In a way it's their first."
The man scoffed so hard that I could almost see tiny pebbles sliding down his face to join the scree of his chin. "Wouldn't the Kaiser be pleased at that! No, Major, that won't do. It would be seen as giving credit to the Hun."
We lapsed into a thoughtful silence then, our eyes settling on the surface of the desk between us. Idly I traced its grain with my eyes, noting its salients and re-entrants. A large knot indicated a fortress in the southwest of this oaken kingdom.
"A *World* War." I felt an eyebrow raise involuntarily. Believing it to be confusion, the man continued. "Think about it. All of Europe is a battlefield. Britain with all her colonies, France, Russia, and now you Americans united against the Hun and the Turk. All the globe is aflame. How else to describe such a thing? It is The World War, surpassing all others in scope."
I allowed myself a thin smile. Yes, this is right. The World War. More right than he even knew. Millions dead, but not long before they are joined by many millions more. World War *One*.
There were now two large caves in the rock face before me, eyes widened in surprise. Three now, as the Lieutenant-Colonel's mouth began to gape. Slowly the realization crept in that I had spoken that last phrase aloud.
*Shit!*
The gears were nearly audible as they turned in the Englishman's head, and I knew I had to think quckly. World War One implied World War Two, which raised the uncomfortable question of "What does America know that Britain doesn't?" From there it isn't far to "What is America planning?" *Shit!*
"It's a warning." My lips had moved almost on their own. Thoughts belatedly arrived. "There are groups of people, I'm sure you've seen them. Those who have another name for this conflict: The War To End All Wars."
"Yes, the Millennials."
"They're wrong, of course. There will be no 'thousand years of peace.' But many believe them, believe that no enemy would dare repeat the horrors of today. We can't allow such complacency. It would be our undoing."
"And World War One..?"
"A reminder that what happens once can happen again. There *will* be a World War Two. Someday."
"Someday. Let us hope it is a long day off."
I nodded. Twenty years is a long time, and yet so terribly short. I had hoped to continue my work over the interim period, follow the threads of history as they tie themselves into the knots of the true World War, but I was getting sloppy. *Complacent*. There could be no mistakes between now and D-day, no matter how small. With a small sigh of regret, I scratched at the comm circuit implanted behind my ear and subvocalized my instructions. The reply came immediately. A replacement would be sent, and arrangements would be made for my departure in two subjective years. Just enough time to finish my report on the end of World War: Act 1.
------------------
Inspired by [this comment](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/7iubwq/wp_you_are_a_time_traveler_in_1918_and_you_just/dr1uwmz/) explaining how the term "World War One" actually came to be. |
“No.”
I shut my eyes tightly for a heartbeat and shake my head imploringly. Why can’t this man just believe me; why can’t he see the desperation that is radiating from my very being? (Control your emotions, I think, repeating the mantra that has been drilled into my head. Stay calm.)
“Sir, sir, please, you have to understand—!” I’m begging him, now. My head is spinning; how can I be failing at my only job! I came back to 1918, leaving everything I know behind, just for this...
He stares at me with his dark, piercing gaze, and his gaze a mixture of disbelief and veiled curiosity. “I can’t believe you without proper evidence, miss. Please, tell me why I should travel to Germany, spending an exorbitant amount of money along the way.”
“You have to understand,” I repeat desperately. And, in my fearfulness and scramble to convince him, I make my greatest mistake yet.“That war—the Great War, World War One—is not the end of turmoil. Please!”
And he goes extremely still, blanching. I freeze, too, and begin to feel confused, until he speaks again. His tone is hushed and beyond fear-filled. It’s pure terror. Until this moment, I never realized the power of one, simple phrase, how much emotion three small words can convey.
“World War One?” | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | Silence filled the room. Finally, the general spoke. “World war one?” he said, softly. “Son, your history books are so, so wrong; but then I don’t blame your grandparents for covering up the truth.... this is world war six”. |
“No.”
I shut my eyes tightly for a heartbeat and shake my head imploringly. Why can’t this man just believe me; why can’t he see the desperation that is radiating from my very being? (Control your emotions, I think, repeating the mantra that has been drilled into my head. Stay calm.)
“Sir, sir, please, you have to understand—!” I’m begging him, now. My head is spinning; how can I be failing at my only job! I came back to 1918, leaving everything I know behind, just for this...
He stares at me with his dark, piercing gaze, and his gaze a mixture of disbelief and veiled curiosity. “I can’t believe you without proper evidence, miss. Please, tell me why I should travel to Germany, spending an exorbitant amount of money along the way.”
“You have to understand,” I repeat desperately. And, in my fearfulness and scramble to convince him, I make my greatest mistake yet.“That war—the Great War, World War One—is not the end of turmoil. Please!”
And he goes extremely still, blanching. I freeze, too, and begin to feel confused, until he speaks again. His tone is hushed and beyond fear-filled. It’s pure terror. Until this moment, I never realized the power of one, simple phrase, how much emotion three small words can convey.
“World War One?” |
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