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[WP] in the year 1105 BC you helped a man escape an imprisonment. Before you parted ways he says to make a blood oath. You didn’t think much of it but you also cut your hand and shake. He says that you’ll live as long as he does. Well, now it’s the year 2020 and you’ve been searching for this man. | Nonus was a cruel man; a jailer. Renowned throughout Gaul and Germania for his participation in the slave trade. Someone you’ve beaten into submission for years and years will never say no to your every whim and need.
I was ten years old when he bought me.
I was thirteen when I caught his eye for the first time. I guess he’d thought I was exotic looking. At fifteen I’d started bleeding, and he made me his wife. When I was his slave, I thought I’d known the full extent of his cruelty. As his wife, I learned that it had unending depths. I learned to tie my chiton in such a way that it hid the purple splotches on my collarbones, to sit in such a way that bruises on my thighs were invisible to the populace.
I forget what day it was when I first noticed the prisoner, but it was evening. The shadow stretched long and languid over the face of the sundial. Ides, maybe. Summer, for sure. It’s been a long time, but I remember the moment exactly.
His eyes caught mine, and I was shocked to see the reflection of aquamarine. The same I had observed in looking glasses, in puddles. The same as mine. Raven black hair hung stringy around his shoulders, and his torso was covered in welts. I winced from the courtyard as my husband threw him into the pit and I heard one of his arms snap.
\*\*\*
I’d finished my duties for the day, let my husband take his frustration out on my body, then fed him. He was remarkably ungrateful. I suppose I would be too, if I’d incurred the social risk of a former slave as a wife only to find out she was barren. I suppose I would be too, if I was too stupid or too naïve to know about poison or divorce. Or maybe he liked having a ragdoll, a punching bag. Would a Roman citizen of noble birth with a well-connected father allow such things to happen to her? No; that is why I was Nonus’ wife, I guess.
It was also my duty to go make sure all the cells were locked, to give bread and water to the men in the carts.
I thought of the man with the eyes like mine, and folded up rice into grape leaves, hiding them in my belt, my veil.
\*\*\*
“*Why do you let him hurt you, sister?*”
I haven’t heard that language since my father said goodbye to me. Tears well in my eyes and I find that I must consciously search to string the words together, to use the grammar that is familiar yet now unfamiliar. I turn, and find the voice is coming from the pit. The stranger, the man with my eyes.
“*There is no choice. I was sold. I must obey.*” I reply. It feels like I am speaking a language from a different life. I lower my veil around my neck, taking the grape leaves and adding them to the normal ration of bread and water. “*Eat. Tomorrow I will see if I can get milk.*”
\*\*\*
Mercifully, Nonus was always a heavy sleeper. A legion could march by, belligerent and with swords and shields clanging, and he would remain unmoving. A stone, a corpse. I’d talked to the prisoner for a fortnight. He told me about my homeland, how green the rolling hills were, how there were lakes nestled between mountains. How the near constant rain nourished the plants and animals. I listened to him speak my mother tongue and cried while my bruises throbbed.
Nonus never kept prisoners for more than a fortnight.
Naturally, I'd stolen the key.
“*Thank you, sister. I know not how to get home, but I will find my way. We shall make a blood oath. You will find me again, and we can talk once more, for as long as we shall live. Forever connected.*”
He took my hand and before I could withdraw it, I felt his sharp fingernail draw across my palm. The cut burnt and I felt sticky warmth trickle from my hand. When I looked up, he was gone.
\*\*\*
Nonus beat me and left me for dead in the forest when he found out the prisoner was gone. My bones cracked, my skull half-shattered, one blue eye bulging out of the socket. It felt as if all my innards had ruptured. I remember looking at my leg, and seeing the yellow, sharp spear of what had been my femur sticking out of my thigh, bent at an unnatural angle.
This was the first time I wished for death.
My body knitted itself together over three days. It hurt almost as bad as when Nonus had broken my bones and my spirit in the first place. Animals were no longer drawn to the scent of my blood; a wolf had whimpered and scampered away when my femur shifted and I shrieked, when it withdrew back into my skin and made hard contact with the remaining fragments.
When I got up, covered in dried blood, my own vomit, piss, feces, I was a woman reborn.
\*\*\*
I cannot count all the times I should have let death take me. I cannot count all the times I have tried to end my life myself. I learned that Nonus was not the only cruel man in the world. And that men and women are crueler than gods, or devils, or anything we could think up to justify our behavior.
The only times I didn’t really mind were the times I just got sick, or the freak accidents. The plague of Justinian sucked, and so did the Black Death. Both painful and annoying. Each day I had to rest was one day less that I was journeying, that I was looking for him. I wanted to hear more stories. I wanted to give him stuffed grape leaves again.
I can tell you that most of what they say about Countess Bathory is true; servants put me on the corpse pile after the woman drained my blood over a big porcelain ewer. Not the most painful, but the messiest.
The Inquisition was terrible. I was broken on the Catherine wheel a few times. The breast ripper is probably the most painful, but the pear of anguish is a close second.
I was burnt in Würzburg, and hanged in Salem.
I felt like an idiot when it occurred to me to remember what he’d said about our homeland. Green. Rainy. I hid on a trading galleon heading from the colonies to Great Britain. I hoped finding a ship to Ireland would be just as easy.
I ‘died’ a few times during the famine, and then again during the Troubles. Not the worst ones either. Getting shot is the easiest if the killer has good aim.
Last year I decided to go to a local ceili, to get out of the house, if anything. I recognized him immediately, the raven black hair that I'd seen so long ago, that had reminded me of something. It took almost three thousand years to remember. He had my father's hair. The fiddler looked up at me with bright, aqua eyes as I opened the door, taking off my hood and exposing bright copper curls.
“*Deartháir*.“ | A nice, warm, august morning. Birds where singing and you could hear some slow music, but vaguely.
" God dang it, i forgot to close the fuc*ing window again" I spoke angrily to myself.
"Alexa, close the Windows, draw the curtains and turn on the AC on, uh..uh.. 70 degrees"
I always forget that I have to use the imperial system and not normal units. Gosh, I hate America. I hate the people, I hate the lifestyle.. egh, I guess I just hate everything.
I raise up from the bed with sorrow. I woke up again. AGAIN. It's hopeless, but I still wish to die in my sleep, peacefully. Who am I trying to fool? I just want to die. I lost everything I had dear.
Family, friends, love and...and.. my dog.
For so long I've tried to fill up the hollow in my life, but I failed miserably. Nothing can replace them.
Everyday I blame myself more. For making that pact? No, I can't. I blame myself for not aging with her, for not being there for her while she aged. Why in the wold did I think that leaving was a good ideea? She thought I got killed and she found someone else. But that was for the best. I couldn't bear to watch her age and get all wrinkly with her hair going white.. and our kid growing up and...and aging as well. Everything that I get to love, dies. Even the trees I planted.
I outlive everything. I can't have anything with me, that would last as long as I do. A tear starts rolling down my face. As I drink my coffee, I pick up my laptop and open up tor. I kept browsing the dark web for antiquities for a long time. I started this hidden, underworld online market only for this purpose. But it degenerated into a horrible place where sick people gather.
It's good.
This reminds me why I do what I started a long time ago.
My phone starts ringing.
" Yea, Trump will be the president. He should stir up thing with Korea just enough so I can start the nuclear war once they threaten us"
Humanity needs a reboot.
Humanity needs a new beginning.
Humanity it's evil. Humans need a miracle, but they will only get an apocalypse and I am the one that will bring it. | |
[WP] in the year 1105 BC you helped a man escape an imprisonment. Before you parted ways he says to make a blood oath. You didn’t think much of it but you also cut your hand and shake. He says that you’ll live as long as he does. Well, now it’s the year 2020 and you’ve been searching for this man. | It's been a ridiculous amount of time already, and I've had enough.
I've been searching for this man. A unique man, I may add.
He's not your typical dude. You want to know why? Because he isn't from this time period. In fact, I didn't meet him at the turn of the 20th Century; I met him during an older date.
You know, like 11th Century BC old.
Yes. I met him even before Christ was born. I met him even before the crusades became a thing, or before the Eiffel Tower was Built. I met him at Egypt, or wherever ancient Egypt was and helped him escape the Pharaoh's imprisonment.
It seems like he was some kind of wizard or magician of some sort, since he kept on muttering some sort of magic words. He looked a bit deranged to. For some reason he kept on... Smiling. And then he kept on asking what my name is, and thanking me.
I forgot the details, but I remember him having long hair... and weird glassy eyes with some kind of bracelet that he had to wear to sustain his magicka. When we escaped the prison cell, he asked me for my hand, and asked if we could make a blood oath for some sort of... partnership of some kind. I dunno, I wasn't really into it because it was freaking above 40 degrees in the middle of a desert prison and I just wanted to run.
He told me before he left that he was going to search for a place to stay... And that our "promise" will ring true until he dies.
Well, I didn't mind. I just wanted a cold, bowl of fresh river water.
But that was almost 3,000 years ago. And it's damn time I get an answer as to why I've lived so long.
For years I've been searching. Ever since I looked at the mirror on the death of my older did I realize that I wasn't going to age any different than I was back then. I quickly linked the connection between that weird dude who made a blood pact with me, and immediately set off finding for him at our local town.
But it's now 2020. The richest man in the world, and also the longest living being known to man. And yet somehow, I can't find this man.
My phone rings. It's a call from the chopper; he's ready to go and is waiting at the tower.
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was a long, 15 hour flight to Egypt. But after that, I was home at last.
I visited the site where I was born; bits and pieces are the only things that remain, but because of my restoration project, they're kept safe, and so is the rural neighborhood around it.
The skies are still the same, and the sun still scorches the earth once every two days. The people around here are all different, but some are descendants of my old neighbors.
"Sir?" A guy asks me.
"Yeah. What's up?"
"You must be Anty. Or, short for Antukhamen, right?"
This kid knows his stuff.
"Pleasure to be of service. What can I do for ya?"
Quickly, his face turns into great adoration.
"I'm a direct descendant of your neighbor! Umm, I think it was..."
"Rakant-khala?" I answered.
"Yes! Yes! He has a drawing of you and the prisoner girl you took!"
"Prisoner... Girl?"
It was at this moment that I recalled seeing him pale and skinny. I assumed he dressed like a wizard because he had this weird long skirt on him, a very odd thing for a villager or royalty but not for magicka users. I remembered long hair and glassy eyes, But I couldn't recall if she had hands that of a woman.
"Yes!" The kid shouted. "In fact, there was this weird lady dressed in red just outside the prison! I bet she's a direct descendant of the girl, like me!"
"Say what, kid?" I asked.
He quickly pointed me to the direction of this mysterious girl. As I walked towards the prison hole, I suddenly remembered my past life; the times when I suffered so much because I had to see my loved ones die. I suffered so much when my brother, who was too young compared to me, died as an old man in front of me, whilst I stood there unchanged through time.
I felt anxious. I felt closure. I felt like this was it.
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A slender figure stood atop the hole where we once escaped. She had long hair, and aged almost the same as I. Her body, compared to the prisoner, was well-fed, and had been in good care.
As I approached, she turned to look. And, bright as the daylight, there she was.
The man I looked for my whole life, turned out to be a woman.
Her eyes of glass, started to tear up. As I crept even closer, she began to show tears and, in a blink, sprinted towards me, hugging me as hard as she could.
"You're back! You're back! I knew you wouldn't forget about me!", she shouted.
"I... uh... what?"
"You made a bond with me, in life and in death. You gave your blood for mine, and I promised to give my blood to yours. We are bound together, in body and soul. You are my soulmate, Anty," she said.
"Wait when did I say this?"
She looked at me in confusion.
"When you made a pact with me... You said you promised..."
The sky started turning dark. Clouds began to form. Suddenly, the wind felt chilly.
"What the hell is happening?" I asked her.
"You... did you lie to me, like everybody else?" She asked me.
Her expression was of anger, of disgust and pain. I knew she wanted to kill me, but I didn't want to die.
"Why the hell would I lie to you? I wanted to save you!" I replied.
Her face started to calm, and suddenly the raging storm of a face she had became this puppy-eyed, tear-filled look that made me feel like she was asking for something.
"So... you love me?" She asked.
​
With no other answer in mind, I said the only thing that could have saved me.
"Well... I guess so?" | A nice, warm, august morning. Birds where singing and you could hear some slow music, but vaguely.
" God dang it, i forgot to close the fuc*ing window again" I spoke angrily to myself.
"Alexa, close the Windows, draw the curtains and turn on the AC on, uh..uh.. 70 degrees"
I always forget that I have to use the imperial system and not normal units. Gosh, I hate America. I hate the people, I hate the lifestyle.. egh, I guess I just hate everything.
I raise up from the bed with sorrow. I woke up again. AGAIN. It's hopeless, but I still wish to die in my sleep, peacefully. Who am I trying to fool? I just want to die. I lost everything I had dear.
Family, friends, love and...and.. my dog.
For so long I've tried to fill up the hollow in my life, but I failed miserably. Nothing can replace them.
Everyday I blame myself more. For making that pact? No, I can't. I blame myself for not aging with her, for not being there for her while she aged. Why in the wold did I think that leaving was a good ideea? She thought I got killed and she found someone else. But that was for the best. I couldn't bear to watch her age and get all wrinkly with her hair going white.. and our kid growing up and...and aging as well. Everything that I get to love, dies. Even the trees I planted.
I outlive everything. I can't have anything with me, that would last as long as I do. A tear starts rolling down my face. As I drink my coffee, I pick up my laptop and open up tor. I kept browsing the dark web for antiquities for a long time. I started this hidden, underworld online market only for this purpose. But it degenerated into a horrible place where sick people gather.
It's good.
This reminds me why I do what I started a long time ago.
My phone starts ringing.
" Yea, Trump will be the president. He should stir up thing with Korea just enough so I can start the nuclear war once they threaten us"
Humanity needs a reboot.
Humanity needs a new beginning.
Humanity it's evil. Humans need a miracle, but they will only get an apocalypse and I am the one that will bring it. | |
[WP] in the year 1105 BC you helped a man escape an imprisonment. Before you parted ways he says to make a blood oath. You didn’t think much of it but you also cut your hand and shake. He says that you’ll live as long as he does. Well, now it’s the year 2020 and you’ve been searching for this man. | *The bronze dagger cut at the palm, the skin peeling away easily. A line of red. Somewhere in the tent a torched flickered, caught by a strong gust of wind. Canvas flailed against itself in the torrent outside.*
*“Take my hand, brother.”*
*Darius reached out his hand….*
“No!” he awoke in a sweat, tangled in bedsheets. A thin strand of moonlight trickled through the heavy hotel curtains. The weak light gave a dull shine to the room, bringing Darius back to his senses. The dreams had been growing stronger, which could only mean Alec was close. The TV was still on, and Darius quickly flicked it off, cutting short the car crash news report.
Jumping from the bed, he quickly dressed and downed a glass of water. Exiting the hotel room, he walked down the empty corridors.
A broken light flickered.
*A torch in a leather tent.*
Darius squeezed shut his eyes and rubbed at his temples, as if to force the imagery from his head.
*Take my hand, brother...*
“Get out of my head,” Darius growled. He stumbled, fell onto the hard floor. Pain flashed through his hand and he held it up to the light. The scar there burned in dull red.
Pushing himself to his feet, he climbed cautiously down the stairs, holding the banner as if it was the only thing that connected him to life. He could feel himself grow weaker and he tripped once again, he felt the floor roll from under his feet and then he was falling. His shoulder connected with the bottom stair and he groaned. He could feel blood pooling on his head, it dripped into his eyes.
*A thin red line on the palm of a hand.*
“No.” He flailed weakly.
Somewhere in the background he heard panicked voices. They seemed to be getting louder. They were the last things he heard before he blacked out.
\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*
“Good evening, Darius.”
He opened his eyes to see a brown haired nurse standing above him. She smiled. “How are you feeling?”
He groaned, forcing himself up in the hospital bed. “What happened?”
“You had a little accident. Fractured skull, dislocated shoulder. It’s amazing you’re even conscious.”
Darius lifted the corners of his lips. “I heal fast.”
The nurse laughed. “You’re not the only one!”
“What do you mean?”
“We had a friend of yours in. Alec?”
Darius froze, visions came flying back to him, tumbling through his mind as if his entire life had been photographed and then tipped off the edge of a cliff. The memories fell over one another, blurring into each other. He felt the madness at the edges of his consciousness. Too many memories. Too many.
“Craziest thing. He had the same injuries as you! Car crash though, not just a clumsy fall. He looked in serious trouble when he came in, a few hours later and there he went, strolling out the doors good as new.”
Darius shook his head, forced himself to focus.
“How…how did you know he was my friend?”
“He left something for you! Told me to give it to you as soon as you woke.” She passed him a brown box. It felt warm to the touch as Darius held it close. He could feel the scar in his hand begin to pulsate.
“I’ll be back soon with a doctor, Mr Darius. I’m glad to see you’re feeling well.”
With that the nurse slid open the hospital curtain and disappeared from view.
Darius held the box in front of his eyes. Slowly, carefully, he began to lift the lid.
It caught in the fluorescent lights of the ward. A thousand years old and yet not a scratch on it. It was plain to look at, but Darius’ eyes widened in wonder and fear. Beneath the bronze dagger was a note. With shaking hands, Darius reached for it. The handwriting was large and scrawling.
*Not yet, brother. Not yet.* | A nice, warm, august morning. Birds where singing and you could hear some slow music, but vaguely.
" God dang it, i forgot to close the fuc*ing window again" I spoke angrily to myself.
"Alexa, close the Windows, draw the curtains and turn on the AC on, uh..uh.. 70 degrees"
I always forget that I have to use the imperial system and not normal units. Gosh, I hate America. I hate the people, I hate the lifestyle.. egh, I guess I just hate everything.
I raise up from the bed with sorrow. I woke up again. AGAIN. It's hopeless, but I still wish to die in my sleep, peacefully. Who am I trying to fool? I just want to die. I lost everything I had dear.
Family, friends, love and...and.. my dog.
For so long I've tried to fill up the hollow in my life, but I failed miserably. Nothing can replace them.
Everyday I blame myself more. For making that pact? No, I can't. I blame myself for not aging with her, for not being there for her while she aged. Why in the wold did I think that leaving was a good ideea? She thought I got killed and she found someone else. But that was for the best. I couldn't bear to watch her age and get all wrinkly with her hair going white.. and our kid growing up and...and aging as well. Everything that I get to love, dies. Even the trees I planted.
I outlive everything. I can't have anything with me, that would last as long as I do. A tear starts rolling down my face. As I drink my coffee, I pick up my laptop and open up tor. I kept browsing the dark web for antiquities for a long time. I started this hidden, underworld online market only for this purpose. But it degenerated into a horrible place where sick people gather.
It's good.
This reminds me why I do what I started a long time ago.
My phone starts ringing.
" Yea, Trump will be the president. He should stir up thing with Korea just enough so I can start the nuclear war once they threaten us"
Humanity needs a reboot.
Humanity needs a new beginning.
Humanity it's evil. Humans need a miracle, but they will only get an apocalypse and I am the one that will bring it. | |
[WP] in the year 1105 BC you helped a man escape an imprisonment. Before you parted ways he says to make a blood oath. You didn’t think much of it but you also cut your hand and shake. He says that you’ll live as long as he does. Well, now it’s the year 2020 and you’ve been searching for this man. | We had both been wanderers when we met, far from our birth lands. How I found him that day I’ll never know. Was it just random chance or the will of the gods?
He had been bound hand a foot and placed in a tide pool. The local tribe was offering him as a sacrifice to their sea deity. I climbed over the rocks just in time to loosen the ropes and set him free, before the incoming tides drowned him. Why the priests weren’t watching or no one stopped our escape I never have been able to puzzle out.
We made our way along the coast until we found a small cave where I could tend his wounds, keep him warm and share some food. To my surprise his wounds were healed the next morning, with no signs of the cuts that had been all over his body. Oddly enough, so were the few cuts I had received climbing over the rocks to reach him.
We had both managed to develop a pidgin language through our travels and were able to have some basic communication. I learned he had come from the east. His people had been nomads. He, like myself, had always been adventurous and had left his people to explore the world.
We quickly became friends and traveled together for many years afterward, each of us eager to see what was over the horizon. We hunted together, fought together, survived together. He always joked that we would die together.
After many years I had a desire to see my homeland. We argued over going, which was the first time he and I disagreed about where to go next. He kept telling me I shouldn’t. That my people wouldn’t accept me. I thought he feared I would want to stay with them.
How I wish I had listened.
We made our way to my village but he would not come closer than a day’s walk. Giving up on convincing him to go with me I made my way to the village. It was much larger than I had remembered though the totems and the central hall were still in their place.
As I looked for familiar faces I heard a woman’s scream. I turned to see a woman staring at me, weeping.
My beautiful younger sister was a woman grown, with two young girls beside her. She sobbed my name but refused to come closer. Several others had gathered around us and I began to recognize others. They were all just much older than I had remembered. And here I was, with the same young man’s face as when I had left.
I don’t like to revisit those memories. That was the last time I saw my village. Lets leave it at that.
When I retuned to our campsite I could tell he knew what had happened. He held me that night as I sobbed. We didn’t talk for days. Eventually he shared that he had gone through the same with his family too.
We spent several more years together after that but eventually parted ways. We would find each every few decade. Sometimes we would spend years together, others just a few days. We became lovers at times, others we parted with angry words. But we always came back to one another.
It’s gotten harder to hide over time. The world is so much more populated. Governments are documenting their citizens with ever more secure methods. Social media has made it much easier for people to connect.
I’ve found a few other Ancients this way. There are some tell-tale signs if you know what to look for. There aren’t very many of us. Some are centuries older than I am, others have only been in this journey for a handful of centuries. None of us like to be in the spotlight.
The one I haven’t found, though, is him. It’s been a couple hundred years this time, longer than any other separation we’ve had. My soul aches to see him again. We’ve been though so much together. He knows me better than anyone else.
I found my first gray hair recently, which is why I’ve come to you. Time is running out.
Edit: spelling, punctuation and grammar. | "Shake my hand."
Those were the last words I heard him speak. The escape operation had been incredibly difficult. There were enough guards to fill a soccer stadium surrounding this prison for one person. The person I had just killed each and every last guard to free. He had told me to make a blood oath, and become blood brothers. And I did so, to my demise. That was BC 1105. The year now is 2020. I have seen the rise and fall of many empires, the birth and death of the supposed Jesus Christ, although I never believed it. I saw both world wars, and the cold war, fought in both of them too. I became a legend among the ranks, but also a secret to the generals and lieutenants. In order to protect my identity, where in the battle of Mons my absolute, supposedly suicidal rampage caused the enemy troops to flee in sheer terror, the troops, my friends, told the authorities that angels and flown down and scared off the Nazis. The excuse still made me giggle slightly to this day.
I guess I'm crazy, but living for 3000 years does that to people. I hadn't aged a day since I had rescued him from that torture house the Chinese had called a prison. I didn't even know my own name anymore, or at least my original name. 3000 years gives you a lot of time to learn things, and it also unlocks areas of the brain that would remain dormant for a normal human's entire life. I could forge to an exact degree (with both metals and identities) meaning that I have had an inordinate amount of names. The one I had at the moment was Will.
I had been looking for the man for about 2500 years. At first the immortality was fun, and I showed off to everyone. But after watching everyone I loved die before my eyes, it became less so. I tried making blood pacts with others to try and give them my immortality, but to no avail. I realised that I could not make a single friend for the rest of my life. This was depressing,. but eventually I numbed myself to it, and to every other type of pain too. You could shoot me in the head, but I wouldn't die. I was put to the guillotine in France for being a witch after they found out about my invincibility, but my head just grow straight back.
But I kept on searching and searching. I would never find him, though, I knew, because he was dead. I found out yesterday. I saw his grave. I bore the name "Graman Shore".
I'm so tired...
I might just go for a snooze...
​
And he felt no more. | |
[WP] in the year 1105 BC you helped a man escape an imprisonment. Before you parted ways he says to make a blood oath. You didn’t think much of it but you also cut your hand and shake. He says that you’ll live as long as he does. Well, now it’s the year 2020 and you’ve been searching for this man. | Nonus was a cruel man; a jailer. Renowned throughout Gaul and Germania for his participation in the slave trade. Someone you’ve beaten into submission for years and years will never say no to your every whim and need.
I was ten years old when he bought me.
I was thirteen when I caught his eye for the first time. I guess he’d thought I was exotic looking. At fifteen I’d started bleeding, and he made me his wife. When I was his slave, I thought I’d known the full extent of his cruelty. As his wife, I learned that it had unending depths. I learned to tie my chiton in such a way that it hid the purple splotches on my collarbones, to sit in such a way that bruises on my thighs were invisible to the populace.
I forget what day it was when I first noticed the prisoner, but it was evening. The shadow stretched long and languid over the face of the sundial. Ides, maybe. Summer, for sure. It’s been a long time, but I remember the moment exactly.
His eyes caught mine, and I was shocked to see the reflection of aquamarine. The same I had observed in looking glasses, in puddles. The same as mine. Raven black hair hung stringy around his shoulders, and his torso was covered in welts. I winced from the courtyard as my husband threw him into the pit and I heard one of his arms snap.
\*\*\*
I’d finished my duties for the day, let my husband take his frustration out on my body, then fed him. He was remarkably ungrateful. I suppose I would be too, if I’d incurred the social risk of a former slave as a wife only to find out she was barren. I suppose I would be too, if I was too stupid or too naïve to know about poison or divorce. Or maybe he liked having a ragdoll, a punching bag. Would a Roman citizen of noble birth with a well-connected father allow such things to happen to her? No; that is why I was Nonus’ wife, I guess.
It was also my duty to go make sure all the cells were locked, to give bread and water to the men in the carts.
I thought of the man with the eyes like mine, and folded up rice into grape leaves, hiding them in my belt, my veil.
\*\*\*
“*Why do you let him hurt you, sister?*”
I haven’t heard that language since my father said goodbye to me. Tears well in my eyes and I find that I must consciously search to string the words together, to use the grammar that is familiar yet now unfamiliar. I turn, and find the voice is coming from the pit. The stranger, the man with my eyes.
“*There is no choice. I was sold. I must obey.*” I reply. It feels like I am speaking a language from a different life. I lower my veil around my neck, taking the grape leaves and adding them to the normal ration of bread and water. “*Eat. Tomorrow I will see if I can get milk.*”
\*\*\*
Mercifully, Nonus was always a heavy sleeper. A legion could march by, belligerent and with swords and shields clanging, and he would remain unmoving. A stone, a corpse. I’d talked to the prisoner for a fortnight. He told me about my homeland, how green the rolling hills were, how there were lakes nestled between mountains. How the near constant rain nourished the plants and animals. I listened to him speak my mother tongue and cried while my bruises throbbed.
Nonus never kept prisoners for more than a fortnight.
Naturally, I'd stolen the key.
“*Thank you, sister. I know not how to get home, but I will find my way. We shall make a blood oath. You will find me again, and we can talk once more, for as long as we shall live. Forever connected.*”
He took my hand and before I could withdraw it, I felt his sharp fingernail draw across my palm. The cut burnt and I felt sticky warmth trickle from my hand. When I looked up, he was gone.
\*\*\*
Nonus beat me and left me for dead in the forest when he found out the prisoner was gone. My bones cracked, my skull half-shattered, one blue eye bulging out of the socket. It felt as if all my innards had ruptured. I remember looking at my leg, and seeing the yellow, sharp spear of what had been my femur sticking out of my thigh, bent at an unnatural angle.
This was the first time I wished for death.
My body knitted itself together over three days. It hurt almost as bad as when Nonus had broken my bones and my spirit in the first place. Animals were no longer drawn to the scent of my blood; a wolf had whimpered and scampered away when my femur shifted and I shrieked, when it withdrew back into my skin and made hard contact with the remaining fragments.
When I got up, covered in dried blood, my own vomit, piss, feces, I was a woman reborn.
\*\*\*
I cannot count all the times I should have let death take me. I cannot count all the times I have tried to end my life myself. I learned that Nonus was not the only cruel man in the world. And that men and women are crueler than gods, or devils, or anything we could think up to justify our behavior.
The only times I didn’t really mind were the times I just got sick, or the freak accidents. The plague of Justinian sucked, and so did the Black Death. Both painful and annoying. Each day I had to rest was one day less that I was journeying, that I was looking for him. I wanted to hear more stories. I wanted to give him stuffed grape leaves again.
I can tell you that most of what they say about Countess Bathory is true; servants put me on the corpse pile after the woman drained my blood over a big porcelain ewer. Not the most painful, but the messiest.
The Inquisition was terrible. I was broken on the Catherine wheel a few times. The breast ripper is probably the most painful, but the pear of anguish is a close second.
I was burnt in Würzburg, and hanged in Salem.
I felt like an idiot when it occurred to me to remember what he’d said about our homeland. Green. Rainy. I hid on a trading galleon heading from the colonies to Great Britain. I hoped finding a ship to Ireland would be just as easy.
I ‘died’ a few times during the famine, and then again during the Troubles. Not the worst ones either. Getting shot is the easiest if the killer has good aim.
Last year I decided to go to a local ceili, to get out of the house, if anything. I recognized him immediately, the raven black hair that I'd seen so long ago, that had reminded me of something. It took almost three thousand years to remember. He had my father's hair. The fiddler looked up at me with bright, aqua eyes as I opened the door, taking off my hood and exposing bright copper curls.
“*Deartháir*.“ | "Shake my hand."
Those were the last words I heard him speak. The escape operation had been incredibly difficult. There were enough guards to fill a soccer stadium surrounding this prison for one person. The person I had just killed each and every last guard to free. He had told me to make a blood oath, and become blood brothers. And I did so, to my demise. That was BC 1105. The year now is 2020. I have seen the rise and fall of many empires, the birth and death of the supposed Jesus Christ, although I never believed it. I saw both world wars, and the cold war, fought in both of them too. I became a legend among the ranks, but also a secret to the generals and lieutenants. In order to protect my identity, where in the battle of Mons my absolute, supposedly suicidal rampage caused the enemy troops to flee in sheer terror, the troops, my friends, told the authorities that angels and flown down and scared off the Nazis. The excuse still made me giggle slightly to this day.
I guess I'm crazy, but living for 3000 years does that to people. I hadn't aged a day since I had rescued him from that torture house the Chinese had called a prison. I didn't even know my own name anymore, or at least my original name. 3000 years gives you a lot of time to learn things, and it also unlocks areas of the brain that would remain dormant for a normal human's entire life. I could forge to an exact degree (with both metals and identities) meaning that I have had an inordinate amount of names. The one I had at the moment was Will.
I had been looking for the man for about 2500 years. At first the immortality was fun, and I showed off to everyone. But after watching everyone I loved die before my eyes, it became less so. I tried making blood pacts with others to try and give them my immortality, but to no avail. I realised that I could not make a single friend for the rest of my life. This was depressing,. but eventually I numbed myself to it, and to every other type of pain too. You could shoot me in the head, but I wouldn't die. I was put to the guillotine in France for being a witch after they found out about my invincibility, but my head just grow straight back.
But I kept on searching and searching. I would never find him, though, I knew, because he was dead. I found out yesterday. I saw his grave. I bore the name "Graman Shore".
I'm so tired...
I might just go for a snooze...
​
And he felt no more. | |
[WP] in the year 1105 BC you helped a man escape an imprisonment. Before you parted ways he says to make a blood oath. You didn’t think much of it but you also cut your hand and shake. He says that you’ll live as long as he does. Well, now it’s the year 2020 and you’ve been searching for this man. | Nonus was a cruel man; a jailer. Renowned throughout Gaul and Germania for his participation in the slave trade. Someone you’ve beaten into submission for years and years will never say no to your every whim and need.
I was ten years old when he bought me.
I was thirteen when I caught his eye for the first time. I guess he’d thought I was exotic looking. At fifteen I’d started bleeding, and he made me his wife. When I was his slave, I thought I’d known the full extent of his cruelty. As his wife, I learned that it had unending depths. I learned to tie my chiton in such a way that it hid the purple splotches on my collarbones, to sit in such a way that bruises on my thighs were invisible to the populace.
I forget what day it was when I first noticed the prisoner, but it was evening. The shadow stretched long and languid over the face of the sundial. Ides, maybe. Summer, for sure. It’s been a long time, but I remember the moment exactly.
His eyes caught mine, and I was shocked to see the reflection of aquamarine. The same I had observed in looking glasses, in puddles. The same as mine. Raven black hair hung stringy around his shoulders, and his torso was covered in welts. I winced from the courtyard as my husband threw him into the pit and I heard one of his arms snap.
\*\*\*
I’d finished my duties for the day, let my husband take his frustration out on my body, then fed him. He was remarkably ungrateful. I suppose I would be too, if I’d incurred the social risk of a former slave as a wife only to find out she was barren. I suppose I would be too, if I was too stupid or too naïve to know about poison or divorce. Or maybe he liked having a ragdoll, a punching bag. Would a Roman citizen of noble birth with a well-connected father allow such things to happen to her? No; that is why I was Nonus’ wife, I guess.
It was also my duty to go make sure all the cells were locked, to give bread and water to the men in the carts.
I thought of the man with the eyes like mine, and folded up rice into grape leaves, hiding them in my belt, my veil.
\*\*\*
“*Why do you let him hurt you, sister?*”
I haven’t heard that language since my father said goodbye to me. Tears well in my eyes and I find that I must consciously search to string the words together, to use the grammar that is familiar yet now unfamiliar. I turn, and find the voice is coming from the pit. The stranger, the man with my eyes.
“*There is no choice. I was sold. I must obey.*” I reply. It feels like I am speaking a language from a different life. I lower my veil around my neck, taking the grape leaves and adding them to the normal ration of bread and water. “*Eat. Tomorrow I will see if I can get milk.*”
\*\*\*
Mercifully, Nonus was always a heavy sleeper. A legion could march by, belligerent and with swords and shields clanging, and he would remain unmoving. A stone, a corpse. I’d talked to the prisoner for a fortnight. He told me about my homeland, how green the rolling hills were, how there were lakes nestled between mountains. How the near constant rain nourished the plants and animals. I listened to him speak my mother tongue and cried while my bruises throbbed.
Nonus never kept prisoners for more than a fortnight.
Naturally, I'd stolen the key.
“*Thank you, sister. I know not how to get home, but I will find my way. We shall make a blood oath. You will find me again, and we can talk once more, for as long as we shall live. Forever connected.*”
He took my hand and before I could withdraw it, I felt his sharp fingernail draw across my palm. The cut burnt and I felt sticky warmth trickle from my hand. When I looked up, he was gone.
\*\*\*
Nonus beat me and left me for dead in the forest when he found out the prisoner was gone. My bones cracked, my skull half-shattered, one blue eye bulging out of the socket. It felt as if all my innards had ruptured. I remember looking at my leg, and seeing the yellow, sharp spear of what had been my femur sticking out of my thigh, bent at an unnatural angle.
This was the first time I wished for death.
My body knitted itself together over three days. It hurt almost as bad as when Nonus had broken my bones and my spirit in the first place. Animals were no longer drawn to the scent of my blood; a wolf had whimpered and scampered away when my femur shifted and I shrieked, when it withdrew back into my skin and made hard contact with the remaining fragments.
When I got up, covered in dried blood, my own vomit, piss, feces, I was a woman reborn.
\*\*\*
I cannot count all the times I should have let death take me. I cannot count all the times I have tried to end my life myself. I learned that Nonus was not the only cruel man in the world. And that men and women are crueler than gods, or devils, or anything we could think up to justify our behavior.
The only times I didn’t really mind were the times I just got sick, or the freak accidents. The plague of Justinian sucked, and so did the Black Death. Both painful and annoying. Each day I had to rest was one day less that I was journeying, that I was looking for him. I wanted to hear more stories. I wanted to give him stuffed grape leaves again.
I can tell you that most of what they say about Countess Bathory is true; servants put me on the corpse pile after the woman drained my blood over a big porcelain ewer. Not the most painful, but the messiest.
The Inquisition was terrible. I was broken on the Catherine wheel a few times. The breast ripper is probably the most painful, but the pear of anguish is a close second.
I was burnt in Würzburg, and hanged in Salem.
I felt like an idiot when it occurred to me to remember what he’d said about our homeland. Green. Rainy. I hid on a trading galleon heading from the colonies to Great Britain. I hoped finding a ship to Ireland would be just as easy.
I ‘died’ a few times during the famine, and then again during the Troubles. Not the worst ones either. Getting shot is the easiest if the killer has good aim.
Last year I decided to go to a local ceili, to get out of the house, if anything. I recognized him immediately, the raven black hair that I'd seen so long ago, that had reminded me of something. It took almost three thousand years to remember. He had my father's hair. The fiddler looked up at me with bright, aqua eyes as I opened the door, taking off my hood and exposing bright copper curls.
“*Deartháir*.“ | Another New Years came and went. Just like the hundreds of times before. After I met that man time has just become a blur to me. A year to the average person may be a long time filled with countless memories and experiences. Years to me are just moments for me. I can’t recall exactly what happened last year, or the year before that. They might as well of been yesterday.
I do always remember one thing ever New Year’s day. That man I made that oath with. He might as well of cursed me. Who knows how many years I have left on this Earth. Tomorrow could be the last or I have eons to look forward too. Life is a bore.
If only I could get a hold of that man. I’d kill him the instant I find him. I just want to die already. Unfortunately i’ve just given up all hope of ever finding him. Time to just drift through the waves of time I guess. | |
[WP] in the year 1105 BC you helped a man escape an imprisonment. Before you parted ways he says to make a blood oath. You didn’t think much of it but you also cut your hand and shake. He says that you’ll live as long as he does. Well, now it’s the year 2020 and you’ve been searching for this man. | It's been a ridiculous amount of time already, and I've had enough.
I've been searching for this man. A unique man, I may add.
He's not your typical dude. You want to know why? Because he isn't from this time period. In fact, I didn't meet him at the turn of the 20th Century; I met him during an older date.
You know, like 11th Century BC old.
Yes. I met him even before Christ was born. I met him even before the crusades became a thing, or before the Eiffel Tower was Built. I met him at Egypt, or wherever ancient Egypt was and helped him escape the Pharaoh's imprisonment.
It seems like he was some kind of wizard or magician of some sort, since he kept on muttering some sort of magic words. He looked a bit deranged to. For some reason he kept on... Smiling. And then he kept on asking what my name is, and thanking me.
I forgot the details, but I remember him having long hair... and weird glassy eyes with some kind of bracelet that he had to wear to sustain his magicka. When we escaped the prison cell, he asked me for my hand, and asked if we could make a blood oath for some sort of... partnership of some kind. I dunno, I wasn't really into it because it was freaking above 40 degrees in the middle of a desert prison and I just wanted to run.
He told me before he left that he was going to search for a place to stay... And that our "promise" will ring true until he dies.
Well, I didn't mind. I just wanted a cold, bowl of fresh river water.
But that was almost 3,000 years ago. And it's damn time I get an answer as to why I've lived so long.
For years I've been searching. Ever since I looked at the mirror on the death of my older did I realize that I wasn't going to age any different than I was back then. I quickly linked the connection between that weird dude who made a blood pact with me, and immediately set off finding for him at our local town.
But it's now 2020. The richest man in the world, and also the longest living being known to man. And yet somehow, I can't find this man.
My phone rings. It's a call from the chopper; he's ready to go and is waiting at the tower.
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was a long, 15 hour flight to Egypt. But after that, I was home at last.
I visited the site where I was born; bits and pieces are the only things that remain, but because of my restoration project, they're kept safe, and so is the rural neighborhood around it.
The skies are still the same, and the sun still scorches the earth once every two days. The people around here are all different, but some are descendants of my old neighbors.
"Sir?" A guy asks me.
"Yeah. What's up?"
"You must be Anty. Or, short for Antukhamen, right?"
This kid knows his stuff.
"Pleasure to be of service. What can I do for ya?"
Quickly, his face turns into great adoration.
"I'm a direct descendant of your neighbor! Umm, I think it was..."
"Rakant-khala?" I answered.
"Yes! Yes! He has a drawing of you and the prisoner girl you took!"
"Prisoner... Girl?"
It was at this moment that I recalled seeing him pale and skinny. I assumed he dressed like a wizard because he had this weird long skirt on him, a very odd thing for a villager or royalty but not for magicka users. I remembered long hair and glassy eyes, But I couldn't recall if she had hands that of a woman.
"Yes!" The kid shouted. "In fact, there was this weird lady dressed in red just outside the prison! I bet she's a direct descendant of the girl, like me!"
"Say what, kid?" I asked.
He quickly pointed me to the direction of this mysterious girl. As I walked towards the prison hole, I suddenly remembered my past life; the times when I suffered so much because I had to see my loved ones die. I suffered so much when my brother, who was too young compared to me, died as an old man in front of me, whilst I stood there unchanged through time.
I felt anxious. I felt closure. I felt like this was it.
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A slender figure stood atop the hole where we once escaped. She had long hair, and aged almost the same as I. Her body, compared to the prisoner, was well-fed, and had been in good care.
As I approached, she turned to look. And, bright as the daylight, there she was.
The man I looked for my whole life, turned out to be a woman.
Her eyes of glass, started to tear up. As I crept even closer, she began to show tears and, in a blink, sprinted towards me, hugging me as hard as she could.
"You're back! You're back! I knew you wouldn't forget about me!", she shouted.
"I... uh... what?"
"You made a bond with me, in life and in death. You gave your blood for mine, and I promised to give my blood to yours. We are bound together, in body and soul. You are my soulmate, Anty," she said.
"Wait when did I say this?"
She looked at me in confusion.
"When you made a pact with me... You said you promised..."
The sky started turning dark. Clouds began to form. Suddenly, the wind felt chilly.
"What the hell is happening?" I asked her.
"You... did you lie to me, like everybody else?" She asked me.
Her expression was of anger, of disgust and pain. I knew she wanted to kill me, but I didn't want to die.
"Why the hell would I lie to you? I wanted to save you!" I replied.
Her face started to calm, and suddenly the raging storm of a face she had became this puppy-eyed, tear-filled look that made me feel like she was asking for something.
"So... you love me?" She asked.
​
With no other answer in mind, I said the only thing that could have saved me.
"Well... I guess so?" | Another New Years came and went. Just like the hundreds of times before. After I met that man time has just become a blur to me. A year to the average person may be a long time filled with countless memories and experiences. Years to me are just moments for me. I can’t recall exactly what happened last year, or the year before that. They might as well of been yesterday.
I do always remember one thing ever New Year’s day. That man I made that oath with. He might as well of cursed me. Who knows how many years I have left on this Earth. Tomorrow could be the last or I have eons to look forward too. Life is a bore.
If only I could get a hold of that man. I’d kill him the instant I find him. I just want to die already. Unfortunately i’ve just given up all hope of ever finding him. Time to just drift through the waves of time I guess. | |
[WP] in the year 1105 BC you helped a man escape an imprisonment. Before you parted ways he says to make a blood oath. You didn’t think much of it but you also cut your hand and shake. He says that you’ll live as long as he does. Well, now it’s the year 2020 and you’ve been searching for this man. | *The bronze dagger cut at the palm, the skin peeling away easily. A line of red. Somewhere in the tent a torched flickered, caught by a strong gust of wind. Canvas flailed against itself in the torrent outside.*
*“Take my hand, brother.”*
*Darius reached out his hand….*
“No!” he awoke in a sweat, tangled in bedsheets. A thin strand of moonlight trickled through the heavy hotel curtains. The weak light gave a dull shine to the room, bringing Darius back to his senses. The dreams had been growing stronger, which could only mean Alec was close. The TV was still on, and Darius quickly flicked it off, cutting short the car crash news report.
Jumping from the bed, he quickly dressed and downed a glass of water. Exiting the hotel room, he walked down the empty corridors.
A broken light flickered.
*A torch in a leather tent.*
Darius squeezed shut his eyes and rubbed at his temples, as if to force the imagery from his head.
*Take my hand, brother...*
“Get out of my head,” Darius growled. He stumbled, fell onto the hard floor. Pain flashed through his hand and he held it up to the light. The scar there burned in dull red.
Pushing himself to his feet, he climbed cautiously down the stairs, holding the banner as if it was the only thing that connected him to life. He could feel himself grow weaker and he tripped once again, he felt the floor roll from under his feet and then he was falling. His shoulder connected with the bottom stair and he groaned. He could feel blood pooling on his head, it dripped into his eyes.
*A thin red line on the palm of a hand.*
“No.” He flailed weakly.
Somewhere in the background he heard panicked voices. They seemed to be getting louder. They were the last things he heard before he blacked out.
\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*
“Good evening, Darius.”
He opened his eyes to see a brown haired nurse standing above him. She smiled. “How are you feeling?”
He groaned, forcing himself up in the hospital bed. “What happened?”
“You had a little accident. Fractured skull, dislocated shoulder. It’s amazing you’re even conscious.”
Darius lifted the corners of his lips. “I heal fast.”
The nurse laughed. “You’re not the only one!”
“What do you mean?”
“We had a friend of yours in. Alec?”
Darius froze, visions came flying back to him, tumbling through his mind as if his entire life had been photographed and then tipped off the edge of a cliff. The memories fell over one another, blurring into each other. He felt the madness at the edges of his consciousness. Too many memories. Too many.
“Craziest thing. He had the same injuries as you! Car crash though, not just a clumsy fall. He looked in serious trouble when he came in, a few hours later and there he went, strolling out the doors good as new.”
Darius shook his head, forced himself to focus.
“How…how did you know he was my friend?”
“He left something for you! Told me to give it to you as soon as you woke.” She passed him a brown box. It felt warm to the touch as Darius held it close. He could feel the scar in his hand begin to pulsate.
“I’ll be back soon with a doctor, Mr Darius. I’m glad to see you’re feeling well.”
With that the nurse slid open the hospital curtain and disappeared from view.
Darius held the box in front of his eyes. Slowly, carefully, he began to lift the lid.
It caught in the fluorescent lights of the ward. A thousand years old and yet not a scratch on it. It was plain to look at, but Darius’ eyes widened in wonder and fear. Beneath the bronze dagger was a note. With shaking hands, Darius reached for it. The handwriting was large and scrawling.
*Not yet, brother. Not yet.* | Another New Years came and went. Just like the hundreds of times before. After I met that man time has just become a blur to me. A year to the average person may be a long time filled with countless memories and experiences. Years to me are just moments for me. I can’t recall exactly what happened last year, or the year before that. They might as well of been yesterday.
I do always remember one thing ever New Year’s day. That man I made that oath with. He might as well of cursed me. Who knows how many years I have left on this Earth. Tomorrow could be the last or I have eons to look forward too. Life is a bore.
If only I could get a hold of that man. I’d kill him the instant I find him. I just want to die already. Unfortunately i’ve just given up all hope of ever finding him. Time to just drift through the waves of time I guess. | |
[WP] in the year 1105 BC you helped a man escape an imprisonment. Before you parted ways he says to make a blood oath. You didn’t think much of it but you also cut your hand and shake. He says that you’ll live as long as he does. Well, now it’s the year 2020 and you’ve been searching for this man. | “What will it be?”
“Caramel coated donut, please.”
Another day, another hour, another second; I might as well be a master of time. I had seen so many events take place. Though historians liked to talk about it like it were the most fascinating thing to exist, I couldn’t help but frown. Most of what they talked about, I experienced in my...lifetime.
That man. That man from years ago...I had sketched his face, tried to memorise every detail of the event, the place where it happened. I was old, but I miraculously still retained the mental state and appearance of a twenty three year-old lady.
Helping that man escape imprisonment must have been one of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever done. I can’t help but think of why he was going to get imprisoned, assuming this curse I’ve had put on me.
Nothing worked. No matter what I did, I could not die. I did not age. I was immortal, in sorts.
Taking the bag the man over the counter gave me, I muttered a thank you before heading into the bustling streets of the city. Flashing billboards, roaring engines, an uproar of conversation, I was used to it.
I had met many throughout my journey; I constantly shifted work places and cut people off. At first, it was nice to meet so many new people. Now, though? I made sure not to get close to none, as if I did, then I’d have to face watching them die.
I outlived my family, my lovers, my pets, and others. I had explored the world to the best of my abilities and saw crushing events.
My mind was in a state of peaceful insanity. I will find that man. I will find that man. I will find that man.
I reached my housing area; my apartment was at the top. As you could imagine, over the years I collected money and spent it wisely. I kept a diary to remind myself I was alive and not dead.
Tomorrow, I was flying back to hometown - my roots - for a vacation. I would search around for the man. I will find him.
I looked at the cloudy sky. Light rain was beginning to fall. I glanced at my apartment: books, quills, electronics, and more were scattered somehow neatly around the place.
I lazily reached for my laptop before leaning back, a grip on it. When it reached my lap, I placed it down before opening it up. Enter, password, enter.
I clicked on the little google chrome icon and moved the cursor up to gmail. I always read it, for work purposes.
My eyes were drawn to bold letters at the top of my mail. Clicking on it, my mind processed one thing: home language.
I hadn’t used my origin language in years. I quickly read through it, before shoving my computer aside and hurrying straight out the door.
An artefact! With writing in my home language! This was something new, and for once, I felt a sense of home in this city.
It took a while, but as soon as my current workplace was in sight, I hurried in. Deciphering...they wanted to decipher it.
I soon reached the level with impatience. I felt like a child more than an ancient artefact in themselves. I had to contain myself from slamming the door open.
“Thank you for coming here.” My boss nodded. He then turned his head towards something. Following his eyes, I saw it; a plate with messy writing scrawled on it.
I walked a few steps closer, my eyes brimming with curiosity. “Estimate of age?” I piqued.
“Thousands of years old. Very delicate.” One of my co-workers, Connor Steeley, commented.
As I examined it, I slowly recovered my ability to read the words. I spelled it out mentally, while others looked on. The rain was starting to get heavier, reminding us of the storm beginning to brew. However, I only processed one thing correctly.
‘You are in a coma.’ | Another New Years came and went. Just like the hundreds of times before. After I met that man time has just become a blur to me. A year to the average person may be a long time filled with countless memories and experiences. Years to me are just moments for me. I can’t recall exactly what happened last year, or the year before that. They might as well of been yesterday.
I do always remember one thing ever New Year’s day. That man I made that oath with. He might as well of cursed me. Who knows how many years I have left on this Earth. Tomorrow could be the last or I have eons to look forward too. Life is a bore.
If only I could get a hold of that man. I’d kill him the instant I find him. I just want to die already. Unfortunately i’ve just given up all hope of ever finding him. Time to just drift through the waves of time I guess. | |
[WP] in the year 1105 BC you helped a man escape an imprisonment. Before you parted ways he says to make a blood oath. You didn’t think much of it but you also cut your hand and shake. He says that you’ll live as long as he does. Well, now it’s the year 2020 and you’ve been searching for this man. | Not much more binds people than to share a pain, a trouble, a fear in life. Or at least, that is how I met most of the people whose faces I can still remember in my old age. Maybe that says more about me than them.
We were locked in a prison with no light. I remember how in the Dark Knight Rises, Bane tells Batman that a prison with light shining from above, to give the false illusion of hope, is the worst hell on Earth. I can say definitively that is not true. People in a prison like that can still have hope, as desperate and doomed as it is, that they will escape. People in the prison we were in, no mirrors, no toilet, no pot, no windows, they can only hope to one day see light again.
“What do you want?” he asked, one of the few times he broke his silence. Almost all the time, he stared straight ahead, even at the barest patch of wall, like a painter imagining all the beautiful possibilities of a canvas. Except there was only darkness, and the closest thing to paint was our own blood.
“What?”
“What do you want most in this world?”
I thought about it. Most of the time I’d been in the cell, I’d thought of nothing. My mind had run out of memories to throw on the reel and with no new stimuli, no light, there was nothing more to think about.
“The chance to figure out the answer to that question,” I said.
“What would you do for it?” he asked.
I answered, but I got no response from the darkness.
\-
Years later, I did figure out the answer to that question.
She came out of nowhere, like all great loves seem to. I’d been thinking of a story my grandfather told me a lot, the one about the two soulmates who pass right through each other in a crowd and never know what could have been. I’d been thinking about how sad it would be if that happened to me, especially knowing I could die at any moment.
I went to America, hearing about great fortunes and adventures out there. But I found out quickly it wasn’t the place that makes memories or adventures. It’s you.
So I stumbled through the cities, dismayed by the filth and poverty in the streets that was the same as where I had come from. I found work, but it was cruel work, work that needed machines, not humans, but had to substitute flesh for steel in the meantime.
My days were full of grueling hours, and only a walk home as a respite from the pain. It was a walk home when I met her.
She was sitting on a bench, with nothing in her hands, just looking up at the birds in the tree, giggling at them, her hands over her mouth, like she couldn’t control it.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“The birds, aren’t they so lovely? Their lives are so simple. They just have to eat and sleep, and then they can go anywhere they want.”
“But don’t you see them everyday? Do they always make you laugh like this?”
“Of course. Would you rather never see them? Just because you see certain things everyday doesn’t mean they are any less wondrous.”
“I think you might be right,” I said.
\-
One night, I woke up, needing to urinate. I went to the corner, checked to make sure my cellmate was sleeping, and then I saw it.
The door was open. I would never figure out why, or how, but I reached my hand out into the darkness, and felt just air.
I looked back at my cellmate. We had spoken less than a dozen times, and I didn’t even know his name. Still, I stirred him awake.
“What?” he asked.
“Come. The door is open.”
We walked through the prison, the hallways, and finally up a staircase, feeling the whole time as if we will round a corner and come face to face with the devil.
But past the final door, the moon almost blinded us. We lay in the grass in the forest outside of the prison, and look up. I could have looked up forever, picking out stars and remembering them in case I never got to see them again.“My friend, I don’t know why you saved me, but I am incredibly grateful.”
“It’s what you would have done for me.”
“I hope so. Now tell me, what do you want most right now? I feel indebted, and would like to help you get it.”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “This is pretty great itself.”
“Well, then,” he said, standing up, the next words never fully registering in my brain. “Until you find out, I will search for my own dream, and share it with you when I get it.”
And he walked away, and that was the last I saw of him.
(continued below) | Another New Years came and went. Just like the hundreds of times before. After I met that man time has just become a blur to me. A year to the average person may be a long time filled with countless memories and experiences. Years to me are just moments for me. I can’t recall exactly what happened last year, or the year before that. They might as well of been yesterday.
I do always remember one thing ever New Year’s day. That man I made that oath with. He might as well of cursed me. Who knows how many years I have left on this Earth. Tomorrow could be the last or I have eons to look forward too. Life is a bore.
If only I could get a hold of that man. I’d kill him the instant I find him. I just want to die already. Unfortunately i’ve just given up all hope of ever finding him. Time to just drift through the waves of time I guess. | |
[WP] in the year 1105 BC you helped a man escape an imprisonment. Before you parted ways he says to make a blood oath. You didn’t think much of it but you also cut your hand and shake. He says that you’ll live as long as he does. Well, now it’s the year 2020 and you’ve been searching for this man. | I told myself I would never forget his face. Just last night I redrew his features, just like every week since I realised I was not going to die. But now I was standing there, in an old home of mine, from two thousand years ago, and I was looking at another image I made. “Roman Mosaic discovered” was the headline this morning, but I would have preferred “illusion shattering shiTTY F*CKING ...” Argh! The mosaic looked nothing like the image on my iPad. That meant I had no idea what the man looked like anymore. How the hell was I supposed to find him now?
I felt the rage building in me. I was gonna do it again. Flip out and rampage for years. Like the first time I have up 101 years after the handshake. I had to sit down and relax. I was not gonna do this again.
At least this explains why I didn’t get anything from facial recognition. I guess the search is over, hopeless now. You cannot find something if you won’t know when you found it. I have tried everything. I even had my DNA sequenced, you know, 23&me and things. I had hoped that he might have imprinted something on my DNA, but nothing showed up. But apparently I just have a LOT of relatives. I guess almost 3000 years of unprotected sex will do that. Particularly during the rampaging.
“Hey what are you doing here?” Some researcher decided to come in early. Great. It would be easiest to kill him I guess. But my shirt is all new, so talking it is: “I am the expert you called for.” Roman history bores me, but I did move their after a while. So I guess I lived it. “Ah yes, finally. Maybe you can help us decipher this text. We have no idea how it found it’s way into the mosaic. We only found it by accident, apparently it was written in blood.” He said as he turns on the black light. “We kept this quiet, because how the hell would ancient Mongolian end up here?” Wait, I think, Mongolian? And as I look back onto the mosaic, I see a message. Addressed to me:
Genghis,
You will never find me.
Your brother. | Another New Years came and went. Just like the hundreds of times before. After I met that man time has just become a blur to me. A year to the average person may be a long time filled with countless memories and experiences. Years to me are just moments for me. I can’t recall exactly what happened last year, or the year before that. They might as well of been yesterday.
I do always remember one thing ever New Year’s day. That man I made that oath with. He might as well of cursed me. Who knows how many years I have left on this Earth. Tomorrow could be the last or I have eons to look forward too. Life is a bore.
If only I could get a hold of that man. I’d kill him the instant I find him. I just want to die already. Unfortunately i’ve just given up all hope of ever finding him. Time to just drift through the waves of time I guess. | |
[WP] A shapeshifter takes on the faces of loved ones for dying patients who don't have family left. | She was admitted to the hospice two weeks ago. Mary Beatrice Rogers came alone with her long grey, slightly curly hair done up in a messy bun and a roller suitcase that could fit in an overhead bin. She seemed to be in good spirits. She greeted each staff member she came across, chatted, and tried to remember their names. You didn’t know her well enough to know if this was how she was or if she was putting on a front. Sometimes they do that.
You lead Mary to her room. She doesn’t let you leave. She keeps talking. She says how this place and the room reminds her of when she moved into the sorority house back when she was in college. That was so long ago. You have other things to do, but they can wait. She takes out pictures of her and her husband and places them on the vanity. There’s one with both of them and a boy. They are younger in the picture and look so happy. The boy with dirty blonde hair looks like them and you wonder why he wasn’t here with his mother.
Mary notices your focus on the picture. “Ryan passed away shortly after that picture was taken. He was four.” she says, almost like she’s reading your mind.
“I’m sorry.” you respond out of habit. It’s what you’ve conditioned yourself to say whenever you hear something sad. It takes you a moment to realize you do feel sorry she lost her son when he was so young and how alone she must be now. “It must have been difficult for you and your husband.”
“Yes. It was.” she says as she pauses with a sweater in her hands. “Joseph and I stayed together, but rarely spoke. It took us years before we could be close again. By then, it was too late.”
“I’m sorry.” you respond again, like a robot. It’s something you learned to do to protect yourself from the pain. “I should go.”
“I’m sorry.” she says. “I must be keeping you from your job. Thank you for listening to this old woman drone on.”
She’s sweet.
It didn’t take long before Mary’s condition got worse. The doctors had given her a month, maybe two, but she was bed ridden after a week. She also had mental lapses like dementia and was often confused. No one had come to visit her and she didn’t have much time left.
Mary’s hair was splayed all over her pillow. She had lost 10 pounds and had bags under eyes and ashen skin. She even stopped chatting up the staff when they came into wash and feed her and clean up the room.
“Mary?” you whisper as you entered the room and kneel at her bedside. You did the best you could with what looked like the last picture of them together.
“Joseph?” she mumbled with a look of surprise and disbelief in her eyes. “It can’t be.”
You take her hand into yours. You hope she doesn’t realize your hands are probably nothing like his. “Yes Mary, I’ve missed you.”
She struggles to sit up. “I need to tell you something before I go.”
“It’s ok, dear. I know. I love you too.”
“No. No, I need to tell you something before I go. I need you to forgive me. It’s so horrible. I don’t know if you can.”
“It’ll be ok.” you try to reassure her as you pat her hand.
“No.” she sighs. “It’s just after Ryan died and we had grown apart.” she paused and swallowed. “I wasn’t sure if we were going to make it.” she paused again, looking down her hand in yours. “I had an affair with Nick, from work. The guy with the beard.” you continue to pat her hand in rhythm. “I need you to know that I never stopped loving you. I’m so sorry I lost faith in us.”
You squeezer her hand gently. “I know. It’s ok.
“Can you ever forgive me?” she pleaded. Her eyes looked desperate.
“Yes, of course.” You hold her hand in yours. “I forgive you. I knew about Nick. It was my fault. I drove you away.”
“Thank you. I love you.” she whispered as she closed her eyes and laid her head back on her pillow. | A lost soul is stuck on earth; he wants to be with his daughter again. to see her one last time, he visits dying people to see if it's his daughter, because that would be the only way he can contact her again and would be the first in over fifty years years since he froze to death in space due to improperly insulated capsule. he felt like he failed her when his last thought was his promise to return home from the journey in time for her softball game next season. her mother died from a brain tumour little under a year before he did, leaving his daughter in care of his parents. in his quest, he develop the ability to reach in other's minds and take the appearance of the most important person in their life. seeing them happy one last time to see their loved ones made the ghost's every moment of his existence a little less painful. also seeing those who don't need him, they died surrounded by love also helped. he has been doing this for almost fifty years. of the 50th anniversary of presenting people with one last bit of happiness he looked though millions of lives and found out one piece of wisdom, life happens, failure is inevitable and as he was about to finally rest, he decided to give one last person a memory. he choose a person from his hometown so he can take a stroll down memory lane before he goes. when he reaches the hospital room, he was surprised to see none other than his daughter, he could tell by her life. as he presented himself to his daughter, she smiled before taking her last breath. when her spirit meet his, they hugged, rejoiced and cried, they talk for what I can described as an eternity, i know because i am eternity, i am inevitable and while i find my job tiresome and depressing, stories like this remind me why i am in the business, lost souls keeping me company and peoples stories, remind me why life is beautiful. as death, i may seem bad to most, but some can see beauty in me, like john w moore who keep me company for 50 years. | |
[WP] A shapeshifter takes on the faces of loved ones for dying patients who don't have family left. | I had the power at a young age.
I didn’t know how or why, but I kept it a secret from everyone. My family constantly watched dark theories when I was in my room, which led me scared that I would be taken and experimented on by the government.
I was glad that I was smart; I didn’t abuse my power unless I felt like I needed to escape. Most of the time, though, it was just...there.
This inhuman power that should but does exist. Shapeshifting, the ability to clone any voice and appearance at will as long as I know the face.
I never told anyone, not once. Up until I was sixteen, I had managed to keep this strange power that suddenly manifested a secret.
However, it seemed like the world was not intent on it being that way.
I was approached by someone one day. They said they already knew what I could do, which led to me having a mini panic attack. Turns out the government could see me shape shifting because I had my phone around with me most of the time. How idiotic of me.
My anxiety was high then. However, instead of taking me away for experimenting, they offered me...a job.
My job was to morph into long-dead family members of dying patients at hospitals. Only certain people were trusted with this information.
Sometimes, I repeat this all over in my head so I know I’m sane and alive. Because I’m not being taken away for experimenting. Instead, the government, of all places, wants me to help patients for large sums of money.
I had my own ideas as to why, but I never opened my mouth about it.
I’ll never forget my first...’patient’.
She had been in a shooting, and the rest of her family members were either dead, abroad, or just recently killed in the shooting.
They said she couldn’t be saved. They requested me to morph into her mother.
I always was easily moved into tears, so I felt absolutely horrified at the ordeal of having to face a dying, small girl by pretending to be her mother.
I walked into the room after taking a deep breath, already morphed. My eyes landed on a tiny young girl, hooked up to a machine to help her breathe. She looked so frail and pale, I felt sickness and resisted the urge to vomit.
I walked over to her and gently took her hand. “Gracie,” I whispered softly.
She had pretty ginger hair and brown eyes. She looked over to me, and her eyes instantly widened. “Mummy?”
I felt a punch in the gut. “It’s me Gracie, calm down. Everything’s going to be fine.”
“No, no it’s not,” her voice was raising. I could tell she was getting into a panic. “They said I’m gonna die. I don’t wanna die. I wanna go home. I wanna go back and play. I don’t wanna go...”
“I promise nothing will happen while I’m here.” My voice was cracking. “You’re going to go home with me, and everyone else.”
She was crying. I felt so guilty. However, she looked more calmer now, in some way. Her breathing was more stable. I placed my hand in hers, and looked her straight in the eye, trying not to let my voice fail me.
“I love you, Gracie.”
What lies. I felt pity. That made me feel even worse. This girl, having her life taken at such a young age -
She looked at me, and her last words stuck with me.
“You mean it?”
“I do. I will always mean it.”
Right after that, medication she was on made her pass out. Then she was gone. Another innocent life taken.
I slowly grew used to having to deal with dying people, but I still felt slightly sad whenever I had to say goodbye. One time, an old man had a pleasant conversation with me, to the point i almost forgot he was on his death bed - his last request was for me to take care of his bird.
So I did.
Four years later, and I’m still doing this job.
I have a patient every day. Even more most of the time. It came to the point where I gave up on pursuing my dreams, as I made plenty of money just helping people rest easy.
“Good morning Avery,” I uncovered the Budgie, who chirped back at me. I thought he was lonely, personally, so his name inspired me to buy an aviary and get five other budgies so he had company. “Good morning everyone.”
I lived a smooth life, that I was grateful for, but sometimes, I can’t help but wonder if when all my ‘patients’ die, they find out I was a mere shapeshifter trying to help them rest easy.
If they do, I hope they forgive me for showing them an innocent lie. | A lost soul is stuck on earth; he wants to be with his daughter again. to see her one last time, he visits dying people to see if it's his daughter, because that would be the only way he can contact her again and would be the first in over fifty years years since he froze to death in space due to improperly insulated capsule. he felt like he failed her when his last thought was his promise to return home from the journey in time for her softball game next season. her mother died from a brain tumour little under a year before he did, leaving his daughter in care of his parents. in his quest, he develop the ability to reach in other's minds and take the appearance of the most important person in their life. seeing them happy one last time to see their loved ones made the ghost's every moment of his existence a little less painful. also seeing those who don't need him, they died surrounded by love also helped. he has been doing this for almost fifty years. of the 50th anniversary of presenting people with one last bit of happiness he looked though millions of lives and found out one piece of wisdom, life happens, failure is inevitable and as he was about to finally rest, he decided to give one last person a memory. he choose a person from his hometown so he can take a stroll down memory lane before he goes. when he reaches the hospital room, he was surprised to see none other than his daughter, he could tell by her life. as he presented himself to his daughter, she smiled before taking her last breath. when her spirit meet his, they hugged, rejoiced and cried, they talk for what I can described as an eternity, i know because i am eternity, i am inevitable and while i find my job tiresome and depressing, stories like this remind me why i am in the business, lost souls keeping me company and peoples stories, remind me why life is beautiful. as death, i may seem bad to most, but some can see beauty in me, like john w moore who keep me company for 50 years. | |
[WP] A shapeshifter takes on the faces of loved ones for dying patients who don't have family left. | The Ghost of 427. That was what he was known as among the orderlies.
He was a middle aged man who was admitted a month ago. In that time, he hasn’t spoken a word to anyone, and despite the efforts from the medical staff, had no discernible relatives or friends. He was the very definition of nonexistence.
And now, he was going to die.
In the darkness of the hallway, the chill air centered in the middle of the hallway and materialized into the form of a young girl. Appearing out of thin air, she looked at the room she was directly next to: Room 427.
It was fate that the girl resigned herself to her fate long ago. She was a grim reaper who came at night. When she did so, she automatically took the form of the victim’s loved one, and peacefully sent them to the afterlife.
She opened the door to the rhythmic beating of the heart monitor. In front of her, the silhouette of a man lying on a hospital bed shone itself through the curtain.
The girl made her way to the foot of the hospital bed, and saw the ghost for her own eyes. He was frail with messy brown hair as he stared endlessly into the darkness of the room, lit only shortly by the machines that surrounded his hospital bed.
“Mister?” She called out to the man. His eyes were closed, although he wasn’t sleeping.
“Who is it?”
“A visitor.”
Slowly, the man opened his eyes. Once again, he closed his eyes and leaned back into the bed. “Sit down.”
She took a seat next to the man’s hospital bed, and stared at him with a soft smile on her face. It was the same smile she gave to everyone else, the same smile she gives when someone was going to pass on.
The man continued to stare up with his eyes closed, as if he didn’t acknowledge the girl’s presence at all.
“Are you here to take me away?” he asked.
The girl was taken aback by the man’s question. It was uncommon for people to see through the illusion that she set up, but the fact that he had known and calmly accepted the situation shocked her.
“I realized it when you said you were a visitor,” he said. “You’re here to take me away, aren’t you?”
The man turned his head to face the girl, he opened his eyelids and stared at the girl.
“I knew it would come one way, sooner or later,” he started. “Only ghosts can interact with other ghosts, after all.”
The man’s expression was soft, only pity resonated from him as he continued to look at the girl. In him, she saw herself. Countless shapes of people flashed through her vision. It was every single person she imitated, every single past she fabricated. They were all lives she had to conform to, which had changed her into something that didn’t exist, a ghost that spent endless time gathering people to fill her own abandonment.
Then, in an instant, everyone cleared away to reveal a little girl. She had long, black hair and brown eyes. It was her own reflection, the existence that she had lost for so many years.
The girl began to tear up. The man slowly took his hand and wiped them away, as his expression changed into the soft smile.
“What’s your name?” he asked her.
“Lily.”
“What a beautiful name.”
Slowly, the man offered his hand to her.
“I’ll be going ahead. Will you come with me?”
Lily looked at the open palm, and reached out to it. She held it tightly, savoring the warmth she always wanted to feel.
The two ghosts wavered, resting away as they’ve finally achieved their long sleep. | A lost soul is stuck on earth; he wants to be with his daughter again. to see her one last time, he visits dying people to see if it's his daughter, because that would be the only way he can contact her again and would be the first in over fifty years years since he froze to death in space due to improperly insulated capsule. he felt like he failed her when his last thought was his promise to return home from the journey in time for her softball game next season. her mother died from a brain tumour little under a year before he did, leaving his daughter in care of his parents. in his quest, he develop the ability to reach in other's minds and take the appearance of the most important person in their life. seeing them happy one last time to see their loved ones made the ghost's every moment of his existence a little less painful. also seeing those who don't need him, they died surrounded by love also helped. he has been doing this for almost fifty years. of the 50th anniversary of presenting people with one last bit of happiness he looked though millions of lives and found out one piece of wisdom, life happens, failure is inevitable and as he was about to finally rest, he decided to give one last person a memory. he choose a person from his hometown so he can take a stroll down memory lane before he goes. when he reaches the hospital room, he was surprised to see none other than his daughter, he could tell by her life. as he presented himself to his daughter, she smiled before taking her last breath. when her spirit meet his, they hugged, rejoiced and cried, they talk for what I can described as an eternity, i know because i am eternity, i am inevitable and while i find my job tiresome and depressing, stories like this remind me why i am in the business, lost souls keeping me company and peoples stories, remind me why life is beautiful. as death, i may seem bad to most, but some can see beauty in me, like john w moore who keep me company for 50 years. | |
[WP] A shapeshifter takes on the faces of loved ones for dying patients who don't have family left. | The Ghost of 427. That was what he was known as among the orderlies.
He was a middle aged man who was admitted a month ago. In that time, he hasn’t spoken a word to anyone, and despite the efforts from the medical staff, had no discernible relatives or friends. He was the very definition of nonexistence.
And now, he was going to die.
In the darkness of the hallway, the chill air centered in the middle of the hallway and materialized into the form of a young girl. Appearing out of thin air, she looked at the room she was directly next to: Room 427.
It was fate that the girl resigned herself to her fate long ago. She was a grim reaper who came at night. When she did so, she automatically took the form of the victim’s loved one, and peacefully sent them to the afterlife.
She opened the door to the rhythmic beating of the heart monitor. In front of her, the silhouette of a man lying on a hospital bed shone itself through the curtain.
The girl made her way to the foot of the hospital bed, and saw the ghost for her own eyes. He was frail with messy brown hair as he stared endlessly into the darkness of the room, lit only shortly by the machines that surrounded his hospital bed.
“Mister?” She called out to the man. His eyes were closed, although he wasn’t sleeping.
“Who is it?”
“A visitor.”
Slowly, the man opened his eyes. Once again, he closed his eyes and leaned back into the bed. “Sit down.”
She took a seat next to the man’s hospital bed, and stared at him with a soft smile on her face. It was the same smile she gave to everyone else, the same smile she gives when someone was going to pass on.
The man continued to stare up with his eyes closed, as if he didn’t acknowledge the girl’s presence at all.
“Are you here to take me away?” he asked.
The girl was taken aback by the man’s question. It was uncommon for people to see through the illusion that she set up, but the fact that he had known and calmly accepted the situation shocked her.
“I realized it when you said you were a visitor,” he said. “You’re here to take me away, aren’t you?”
The man turned his head to face the girl, he opened his eyelids and stared at the girl.
“I knew it would come one way, sooner or later,” he started. “Only ghosts can interact with other ghosts, after all.”
The man’s expression was soft, only pity resonated from him as he continued to look at the girl. In him, she saw herself. Countless shapes of people flashed through her vision. It was every single person she imitated, every single past she fabricated. They were all lives she had to conform to, which had changed her into something that didn’t exist, a ghost that spent endless time gathering people to fill her own abandonment.
Then, in an instant, everyone cleared away to reveal a little girl. She had long, black hair and brown eyes. It was her own reflection, the existence that she had lost for so many years.
The girl began to tear up. The man slowly took his hand and wiped them away, as his expression changed into the soft smile.
“What’s your name?” he asked her.
“Lily.”
“What a beautiful name.”
Slowly, the man offered his hand to her.
“I’ll be going ahead. Will you come with me?”
Lily looked at the open palm, and reached out to it. She held it tightly, savoring the warmth she always wanted to feel.
The two ghosts wavered, resting away as they’ve finally achieved their long sleep. | (Guys, sincerely, thanks for all the great posts. This is definitely the biggest response I have ever received here so I thought I might as well include my own note.)
 
The serenade of violin plucks.
 
They drew his faded eyes from the pristine plaster walls.
 
Though his vision had all but faded, the melody reached past the constant rhythm of the machine.
 
He could barely make out the mirage of his son and thought it to be a messenger that would take him away.
 
But the violin played loud and clear.
 
Perhaps he had lost himself in sleep, his son merely the remnant of his subconscious desire.
 
His mind had all but faded, his son reaching the dramatic top notes in a desperate torment.
 
He could barely see anything now, but he could feel the force of his son, who had long passed.
 
Maybe he was death himself, calling to the old man.
 
The violin notes cried as the rhythm of the machine slowed.
 
Though his memory had all but been stripped, the last notes carried him to a strange comfort.
 
The song ended; the lonely man smiled in his eternal sleep.
 
Somewhere and someday else, a violin can be heard playing once again. | |
[WP] A shapeshifter takes on the faces of loved ones for dying patients who don't have family left. | The Ghost of 427. That was what he was known as among the orderlies.
He was a middle aged man who was admitted a month ago. In that time, he hasn’t spoken a word to anyone, and despite the efforts from the medical staff, had no discernible relatives or friends. He was the very definition of nonexistence.
And now, he was going to die.
In the darkness of the hallway, the chill air centered in the middle of the hallway and materialized into the form of a young girl. Appearing out of thin air, she looked at the room she was directly next to: Room 427.
It was fate that the girl resigned herself to her fate long ago. She was a grim reaper who came at night. When she did so, she automatically took the form of the victim’s loved one, and peacefully sent them to the afterlife.
She opened the door to the rhythmic beating of the heart monitor. In front of her, the silhouette of a man lying on a hospital bed shone itself through the curtain.
The girl made her way to the foot of the hospital bed, and saw the ghost for her own eyes. He was frail with messy brown hair as he stared endlessly into the darkness of the room, lit only shortly by the machines that surrounded his hospital bed.
“Mister?” She called out to the man. His eyes were closed, although he wasn’t sleeping.
“Who is it?”
“A visitor.”
Slowly, the man opened his eyes. Once again, he closed his eyes and leaned back into the bed. “Sit down.”
She took a seat next to the man’s hospital bed, and stared at him with a soft smile on her face. It was the same smile she gave to everyone else, the same smile she gives when someone was going to pass on.
The man continued to stare up with his eyes closed, as if he didn’t acknowledge the girl’s presence at all.
“Are you here to take me away?” he asked.
The girl was taken aback by the man’s question. It was uncommon for people to see through the illusion that she set up, but the fact that he had known and calmly accepted the situation shocked her.
“I realized it when you said you were a visitor,” he said. “You’re here to take me away, aren’t you?”
The man turned his head to face the girl, he opened his eyelids and stared at the girl.
“I knew it would come one way, sooner or later,” he started. “Only ghosts can interact with other ghosts, after all.”
The man’s expression was soft, only pity resonated from him as he continued to look at the girl. In him, she saw herself. Countless shapes of people flashed through her vision. It was every single person she imitated, every single past she fabricated. They were all lives she had to conform to, which had changed her into something that didn’t exist, a ghost that spent endless time gathering people to fill her own abandonment.
Then, in an instant, everyone cleared away to reveal a little girl. She had long, black hair and brown eyes. It was her own reflection, the existence that she had lost for so many years.
The girl began to tear up. The man slowly took his hand and wiped them away, as his expression changed into the soft smile.
“What’s your name?” he asked her.
“Lily.”
“What a beautiful name.”
Slowly, the man offered his hand to her.
“I’ll be going ahead. Will you come with me?”
Lily looked at the open palm, and reached out to it. She held it tightly, savoring the warmth she always wanted to feel.
The two ghosts wavered, resting away as they’ve finally achieved their long sleep. | She was admitted to the hospice two weeks ago. Mary Beatrice Rogers came alone with her long grey, slightly curly hair done up in a messy bun and a roller suitcase that could fit in an overhead bin. She seemed to be in good spirits. She greeted each staff member she came across, chatted, and tried to remember their names. You didn’t know her well enough to know if this was how she was or if she was putting on a front. Sometimes they do that.
You lead Mary to her room. She doesn’t let you leave. She keeps talking. She says how this place and the room reminds her of when she moved into the sorority house back when she was in college. That was so long ago. You have other things to do, but they can wait. She takes out pictures of her and her husband and places them on the vanity. There’s one with both of them and a boy. They are younger in the picture and look so happy. The boy with dirty blonde hair looks like them and you wonder why he wasn’t here with his mother.
Mary notices your focus on the picture. “Ryan passed away shortly after that picture was taken. He was four.” she says, almost like she’s reading your mind.
“I’m sorry.” you respond out of habit. It’s what you’ve conditioned yourself to say whenever you hear something sad. It takes you a moment to realize you do feel sorry she lost her son when he was so young and how alone she must be now. “It must have been difficult for you and your husband.”
“Yes. It was.” she says as she pauses with a sweater in her hands. “Joseph and I stayed together, but rarely spoke. It took us years before we could be close again. By then, it was too late.”
“I’m sorry.” you respond again, like a robot. It’s something you learned to do to protect yourself from the pain. “I should go.”
“I’m sorry.” she says. “I must be keeping you from your job. Thank you for listening to this old woman drone on.”
She’s sweet.
It didn’t take long before Mary’s condition got worse. The doctors had given her a month, maybe two, but she was bed ridden after a week. She also had mental lapses like dementia and was often confused. No one had come to visit her and she didn’t have much time left.
Mary’s hair was splayed all over her pillow. She had lost 10 pounds and had bags under eyes and ashen skin. She even stopped chatting up the staff when they came into wash and feed her and clean up the room.
“Mary?” you whisper as you entered the room and kneel at her bedside. You did the best you could with what looked like the last picture of them together.
“Joseph?” she mumbled with a look of surprise and disbelief in her eyes. “It can’t be.”
You take her hand into yours. You hope she doesn’t realize your hands are probably nothing like his. “Yes Mary, I’ve missed you.”
She struggles to sit up. “I need to tell you something before I go.”
“It’s ok, dear. I know. I love you too.”
“No. No, I need to tell you something before I go. I need you to forgive me. It’s so horrible. I don’t know if you can.”
“It’ll be ok.” you try to reassure her as you pat her hand.
“No.” she sighs. “It’s just after Ryan died and we had grown apart.” she paused and swallowed. “I wasn’t sure if we were going to make it.” she paused again, looking down her hand in yours. “I had an affair with Nick, from work. The guy with the beard.” you continue to pat her hand in rhythm. “I need you to know that I never stopped loving you. I’m so sorry I lost faith in us.”
You squeezer her hand gently. “I know. It’s ok.
“Can you ever forgive me?” she pleaded. Her eyes looked desperate.
“Yes, of course.” You hold her hand in yours. “I forgive you. I knew about Nick. It was my fault. I drove you away.”
“Thank you. I love you.” she whispered as she closed her eyes and laid her head back on her pillow. | |
[WP] A shapeshifter takes on the faces of loved ones for dying patients who don't have family left. | I was never good at names. They were nothing more then words that flow in one ear and out the other. After meeting so many people and hearing their life story, that tends to happen alot. I do however remember faces. Not just any face... her face.
She was young. A sweet girl in her mid twenties with dull mouse brown hair and striking green eyes. She was alone, her family had disowned her for marrying out of wedlock. Poor girl was a mess mentally, but still seemed to have a warm smile on her face. I was envious.
"Here's that report, Victor." A bitter hiss of a voice snarled. Beth neatly slammed down the folder on to the desk, her tired brown eyes glaring up at me. "Thanks, darling." I purred, keeping my voice as seductive as I could. Beth scoffed at me before walking away. She never liked me. Never liked my job, but someone had to do it. Everything I did was for a reason, and that was to allow those who were alone to see a loved one before they pass. "Deep breath,Victor. " I muttered to myself as I opened the file.
The big, bold, red letter stood out like a slap in the face. "Miscarriage". Great, this was going to make my job much harder. Sucking in a breath, I continued. Her body was septic, at most she wasn't making it through the night. Flipping through the files, I stumbled upon a picture. The man was tall, or seemed tall. Most military personnel were always sitting during their photos. A date was scribbled just underneath. The man had been killed overseas while she was in labor, and no one told her.
Reaching up, I brushed a single tear away from my dull grey eyes. I wasn't ready for this. Closing the file, I tucked it under my arm before making my way towards the girl's door. Reaching my hand up, I paused. Shifting into a new form was as easy as taking a bresth. A picture spoke MORE then a thousand words, at least to my kind it did. I felt my blond hair grew short before turning to a jet black. Grey eyes melted into a soft bron while my skin darkened. I never questioned my powers, just rolled with it.
I waited until my black jeans and shirt change to the typical army BDU before knocking on the door. My breath caught as her dark eyes darted towards me. I felt the need to give my life for this girl. "Hey..." She whispered, her voice quickly melting the world around her. "Hey." I echoed back as I moved over towards her. Sitting down, I grabbed her hands. Her flesh was cold, the once tan skin was dull in color. There wasn't much time left as the heart monitor ticked away.
"I got to see him... He had your eyes." I lied as I placed the file down. The baby was only able to take a few breaths before turning blue, but she didn't need to hear that. She need some sort of light before the darkness. The woman smiled. "Can I see him?" She aske. "Soon... very soon. Just rest now." I said as I leaned down and kissed her softly on the forehead. A soft sigh past her lips as she laid down on the bed. "I love you.." Her voice was nothing more then a silent whisper. "I love you too." I echoed back as I watched the light leave from her eyes. Her smile still held on her face . | Moira Green straightened her blouse in the bathroom of St Charles Hospice Care, carefully flattening the folds and puffs of stubborn fabric. It was a dull yet flowing blue, with a white undershirt just barely visible underneath. Having no idea what to wear, she supposed anything will do. It didn’t matter. Her appearance wasn’t likely to be acknowledged. She was here visiting her daughter who had recently had an accident.
She’d visited many times prior, though her daughter, Katie, never stirred in her peaceful slumber. Some days Moira wished her eyes to open and see the world, and other days she was thankful she wasn’t awake to feel the pain.
The accident wasn’t fatal for Katie, though what the doctors originally didn’t see became the life sentence for Katie soon after. A simple wreck and pressure to her spine was all it took to sever a few nerve and begin her final journey on earth. It was all so sad, but as fate would have it, Moira took it with ease.
Some days Katie’s friends would visit, others her relatives. Even her distant Uncle Thomas came by, surprising Moira. She was sure he had an accident himself years prior, but she guessed not. Whatever made Katie happy.
This went on for weeks until that fateful day when Katie finally woke.
“M-Mom?” Her eyes, crusted from her usual eye-booger’s, and dry from so many days shut, fluttered open. She had little energy, but that was usual with the bedridden.
“Katie! You’re awake! It’s been so long. I’m here, baby. I’m here. Your Uncle stopped by earlier. He’s to be here later, as well.” Tears streaked her pearly cheeks as she looked upon her darling Katie’s body. It dwindled by the day, and she worried and worried. Down in her heart, she knew what would happen. Strangely, she wasn’t too hurt. She had to appear strong for Katie, and with that, she was at peace.
“What happened, Mom? I don’t feel good. My tummy hurts.” Katie’s hand slowly inched to her moms knees sitting beside her bed. Moira was close, and cradled Katie’s delicate hands in return.
“Nothing, baby. Just a few bumps and scraped. You fell yesterday. You’ll be just fine!” Moira lied. Day by day, Katie woke and stirred. Moira was always patiently waiting, and was always there for Katie. Though, as fate deemed it be, Katie’s final day came to pass.
With darkened cheeks and crusted lips, Katie woke up from her endless dreams. She looked as if she hasn’t eaten in months. Her body was failing her, and she had mere hours if not minutes left.
“Oh, Katie!” As always, the most important person in the world was here for Katie, as was her uncle Thomas. “I missed you so much. I love you, Katie.” A river of tears fell down her face as she rubbed Katie’s hand on her forehead. Her darling baby. Darling princess. “You’ll be fine. You know I love you, right?”
“Y-Yes, mom. I l-love you, too.”
“I’m here, Katie. Do you need water? I bought you a bear, today.” Uncle Thomas and his endless gifts were to her rescue. Though, Katie barely noticed. Katie was still eternally happy her beloved uncle was here.
Uncle Thomas hasn’t came by their house in years. He and Katie always got along so well. Aside from her mother, Uncle Thomas was the coolest person in the world. With him here, everything was complete.
A smile made of pure joy and peace adorned the face of Moira as she kissed Katie atop her forehead. She wished the best for her baby girl, and spoke with pure tenderness, “I love you, Katie. I will always love you. You’re the best daughter I could’ve ever asked for.”
Katie was drifting off to sleep but still heard. Her heart fluttered, with love but also effort. An endless sleep awaited her, but truly, she was content with life. Her uncle had one hand and Moira the other. “I love you,” she whispered.
With that, Moira excused herself explaining she had to dab her eyes. Thomas understood for he too had felt the pain of losing a loved one.
Minutes go by and the nurses outside the room had heavy hearts. “It’s so sad what happened to that little girl. I hope her uncle is alright,” one of them said.
“Yeah. I feel so bad. I wish I could hug my daughter. It’s strange, though,” she said, cocking her head in thought.
“What is?”
“That woman, the mans wife I think. She looks exactly like the girls mom.”
“Really? The mom down in the morgue?”
“Yeah. At least she felt no pain. The mom died instantly in the car crash. Wasn’t the girl the only survivor?”
“I believe so,” the nurse said, looking down. It ached her heart to witness the breaking apart of such a lovely family. The girl, without a mom or dad. Without brothers. Just a distant uncle, the only family she had left.
**—Authors Edit: Sorry if the story is garbage. I’ve never written anything like it, plus I’m at work. I really hope you like it.** | |
[WP] A shapeshifter takes on the faces of loved ones for dying patients who don't have family left. | I was never good at names. They were nothing more then words that flow in one ear and out the other. After meeting so many people and hearing their life story, that tends to happen alot. I do however remember faces. Not just any face... her face.
She was young. A sweet girl in her mid twenties with dull mouse brown hair and striking green eyes. She was alone, her family had disowned her for marrying out of wedlock. Poor girl was a mess mentally, but still seemed to have a warm smile on her face. I was envious.
"Here's that report, Victor." A bitter hiss of a voice snarled. Beth neatly slammed down the folder on to the desk, her tired brown eyes glaring up at me. "Thanks, darling." I purred, keeping my voice as seductive as I could. Beth scoffed at me before walking away. She never liked me. Never liked my job, but someone had to do it. Everything I did was for a reason, and that was to allow those who were alone to see a loved one before they pass. "Deep breath,Victor. " I muttered to myself as I opened the file.
The big, bold, red letter stood out like a slap in the face. "Miscarriage". Great, this was going to make my job much harder. Sucking in a breath, I continued. Her body was septic, at most she wasn't making it through the night. Flipping through the files, I stumbled upon a picture. The man was tall, or seemed tall. Most military personnel were always sitting during their photos. A date was scribbled just underneath. The man had been killed overseas while she was in labor, and no one told her.
Reaching up, I brushed a single tear away from my dull grey eyes. I wasn't ready for this. Closing the file, I tucked it under my arm before making my way towards the girl's door. Reaching my hand up, I paused. Shifting into a new form was as easy as taking a bresth. A picture spoke MORE then a thousand words, at least to my kind it did. I felt my blond hair grew short before turning to a jet black. Grey eyes melted into a soft bron while my skin darkened. I never questioned my powers, just rolled with it.
I waited until my black jeans and shirt change to the typical army BDU before knocking on the door. My breath caught as her dark eyes darted towards me. I felt the need to give my life for this girl. "Hey..." She whispered, her voice quickly melting the world around her. "Hey." I echoed back as I moved over towards her. Sitting down, I grabbed her hands. Her flesh was cold, the once tan skin was dull in color. There wasn't much time left as the heart monitor ticked away.
"I got to see him... He had your eyes." I lied as I placed the file down. The baby was only able to take a few breaths before turning blue, but she didn't need to hear that. She need some sort of light before the darkness. The woman smiled. "Can I see him?" She aske. "Soon... very soon. Just rest now." I said as I leaned down and kissed her softly on the forehead. A soft sigh past her lips as she laid down on the bed. "I love you.." Her voice was nothing more then a silent whisper. "I love you too." I echoed back as I watched the light leave from her eyes. Her smile still held on her face . | Every night I talk to Death. He tells me who is going to die next and I visit those poor souls during their last day. It's not an easy job since they cannot tell anyone about what they see and have to be conscious enough to actually see it. Today I am going to visit a young man who survived a car crash, whose fiancee didn't. He is about to die from internal bleeding. I have clear instructions, he is going to be awake and alone for about an hour before the nurse brings his food.
I find myself inside the small bathroom which is part of his room in the hospital. The mirror is on the opposite wall and I can see my own reflection. I close my eyes and focus on his story and when I open them again, I look like a young woman. Not like she looked like when he last saw her, but how he remembers her. She is glowing. I open the bathroom door and see the man lying there, barely holding on to life. He is facing the window which is on the other side of the room. I walk towards him, well knowing that I only have about ten minutes until I change back. When I reach his bed, I walk around it to the side he is facing and sit down beside him. He has his eyes closed and his face is swollen but I can see him smile.
"Hello Honey. Am I in heaven already? I've missed you."
How does he know it's her? He opens his eyes and his jaw drops.
"You are the most beautiful woman in the universe and I cannot believe I had the privilege of calling you mine. I have dreamed about this day ever since the accident and I am so glad that I am hallucinating you right now."
"You aren't hallucinating me, I am here for real. Only for a couple of minutes, but still", she says, her voice happy and sad at the same time, "I wanted to tell you that I love you and I'm sorry for leaving you too soon."
He touches her hand, my hand, with his shaking fingers, runs them over her knuckles, my knuckles, and I am reminded of why I love doing this. But then he says: "I know you aren't her. You only pretend to be her. That's okay though, I appreciate the effort", he stops for a rattling cough which makes blood fly from his mouth, then he weakly continues: "Can you give her a message from me? I hope I will meet her later but I'm not sure we're going to the same place, so just to make sure?"
I am baffled. He is the first one to notice, especially at his deathbed, that I am not actually the person I am impersonating. He seems content enough though, so I reply: "I can't promise anything, but I can certainly try."
He grabs my hand. "Tell her what I've told you, that I was the luckiest man in the world when I had her. I still am, even though I'm dying. Tell her that I'm sorry if I ever upset her, which I definitely did, and that if I could take it all back, I wouldn't do it because I wouldn't dare to change a thing. Only this one thing maybe. I wouldn't have let her drive that night. We were on our way home from a party. She was tired, just like me. She insisted she would drive, that she would get us home safe, but I should have pressed harder, maybe initiated a fight. I should have done something to prevent this from happening. I should have done something to save her. Tell her that I'm sorry. Tell her that I forgive her." | |
[WP] A human can only become a god if they are entirely sane or entirely insane. | [Part I](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/cygoef/wp_its_the_year_2065_and_no_one_goes_to_school/eyswuj3?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x)
[Part II](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/cyafuw/wp_gods_get_their_powers_from_humans_believing_in/eysyqpu?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x)
[Part III](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/cyjoa9/wp_a_booming_voice_gives_humanity_the_news_gods/eyt2al0?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x)
Rusiette and Ficino looked at each other, confused. Then back at the strange creature. Then at each other again. They blinked in unison. They both started to explain. “Quiet!” said the creature. “One at a time. Girl, you go first.”
“I was just saying that I wasn’t with anyone when I said my lines…sir?”
“You can call me Agos. I am one of five counsellors for aspiring gods and goddesses. Are you both ready to hear the rules?”
They both nodded. Agos made an odd sound. Before them appeared a new being. This one claimed to be a lawmaker of the godly elections. He said “The only rule for eligibility is that you be either completely sane or completely insane.” The lawmaker turned to Rusiette and said, “since you have already participated in the election of the last two millennia, you can enter without further checking for eligibility.”
Turning to Ficino, he said, “You, sir, have never done this before and I will walk you through the rules. Follow me, please.”
Almost as an afterthought, he added, “It is against the rule for any competitors to know about each other, and you’ve already seen each other, so if the Doctor here does qualify for the elections, the two of you will be running the same campaign, and should you win, you will both rule together.”
Then he left with the Doctor behind him. Rusiette felt strangely relieved.
[Part V](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/cygvt1/wp_you_die_and_wake_up_in_front_of_the_gates_of/eyv7dr7?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x)
[Part VI](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/d1b6yw/ip_vast_ruins_that_touch_the_sky_not_even_yet/ezk8194?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x)
[Part VII](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/cy3ls2/wp_the_power_and_control_of_a_deity_depends_on/ezsh7yb?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x) | [poem] (sort of.. more of a fantasy article..)
We perceive sanity as the lack of reaction or the reaction to things, we call those who run out in the woods yelling and whooping for joy as the insane.
The sane we say; are the nobles sheltered in their stone fortresses. Who feast themselves on white pheasant braised with expensive far off wines.
Yet the forest woman, naked, say for a linen garb seems to read the minds of trees. She speaks to the deer as if they were her own kin, they tell her the tales of the wood... trees as old as the first stone moved by man.
In our haste to man the fields and feed the flock we ignore the sky whispering to us the stories of what it would bring. We forget the language of the winds which sing their eerie toon between rocky huts.
It is the wild woman who leaped from root to root finding shelter under the ancient stones. It is we who looked up from milking the goat to see the grey of a demons tail hanging from the heavens whipping violently tearing up our crop and coop.
Insanity, is not what it seems... we learn. The wild woman lost nothing, we lost all but a few withered stones.
It is the nobles who angrily yell as news of their missing feast meets their eye, for the noble did not listen as the servants recounted the number of birds left were too few. The nobles demanded the fire in the hearth which stole the last willow off their lands. It was their them who brought their demise on themself.. yet rich and drunk with greed we payed the price. Our homes and things were theirs, we lost everything to a power we couldn’t fight.
Yet the wild woman, free from the burden of possessions forever yelped for joy as the first rains came. | |
[WP] Your father just died, leaving you—his 7 year old child—absolute control over an authoritarian nation. | "Pap is dead?" Raine asked while sitting on the edge of her pap's favorite chair, which was placed on a dais raised so high it was a mountain. Her hands on either side of her, unable to reach the arm rests - she was only seven, after all.
"Yes, prinsesa," replied the High General, who contented himself with kneeling on the last stair. He always stood beside the throne, but Raine did not know why he wasn't now. "We have to get out of here, before the Keys arrive." There was a quiver in his voice, like he was afraid.
'The Keys?' she asked herself, quietly pondering. 'The High General was never afraid of the Keys.' She absentmindedly looked on either side of her, spotting the multitude of soldiers stationed around the base of the dais and along the walls of the long hall. They were the men who were under only his father's command - not even the High General could order them around.
"We must keep you from them, prinsesa," he insisted when Raine didn't answer him. "Who knows what... will happen when they get here..."
The girl on the throne shifted in her seat, suddenly made aware of the absence of her pap's lap as she moved. He was no more, but she did not believe he left her alone. No, someone had taken him from her.
"Prinsesa, please," the High General begged, but she only looked at him, confused. Her pap trusted this man more than anyone in the nation, which was the rarest of all honors. The High General had watched Raine grow since she was young. Why was he so eager to take her away? She didn't want to leave pap's chair. He promised it would be hers one day, but he should have warned her about how soon.
The General's eyes bore into Raine's own, and with a heavy breath, she slowly tried to squirm down from the throne.
Too late, the great doors at the other end of the long hall opened. The Keys - all fifteen of them - stormed into the chambers and marched straight for the base of the dais, where they were stopped by the arch of soldiers that guarded it. The High General whirled around to face them.
"None of you have been invited here," he reminded the Keys with much anger in his voice. "Leave at once."
"You are a fool to believe we'd follow the whims of some child!" cried one of the Keys below. Raine craned her neck to glimpse who it was that spoke. Upon seeing his face - the name not coming to her - she realized he was the one who handled the financials.
"We're not going to stand by and leave the nation to her," agreed another.
"The next in line should be one of us," concluded a third.
"Your opinions will be heard once the prinsesa-" the General began to say.
"Claude," Raine interrupted him with the mention of his name. "Stand to the side." High General Claude's shoulders visibly tensed, as his back was to the girl, then slowly... painfully... did as he was bid.
The Keys now had a clear view of Raine Garlandria, first and only daughter of the late Julius Garlandria, Protector of the Nation. When they finally saw her on that throne, they recognized the eyes of their previous leader. Protector Julius taught his daughter one thing: his example of rule.
"Guards," Raine called. The soldiers at the foot of the dais stomped their feet to answer. "Kill them."
The grand throne hall was filled with gunshots and screams, but it wouldn't be the first time. | A clatter broke the silence. The surface was a bit uneven under the coffin. Most of the congregation heard, but the child in the veiled opera box was the focus of their thoughts.
The man just sealed in front of them had been their old patriarch for the past thirty-five years. The old patriarch had many children, and his favorite was to become the new patriarch.
Everyone in the amphitheater knew this. The practice of exchanging daily vows made common ideals a friendly thing to have.
You see, this is a nation full of respecters. Yes, the fake ones will think their private thoughts, but the word is private.
A voice cried out. “This is ruinous! We demand a mature leader!”
Hushed gasps seep out of the crowd. Much louder in the opera box, a great commotion is heard. Everyone knows the proper actions to take around the new patriarch at the first sign of unrest.
As the child was whisked away, explosions sent terrible waves through the sea of people. Gunfire broke out along with pandemonium. | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | *Marvelous craftsmanship*, Tony thought as he ran his fingers over the contours of the wooden table he sat at. The body of it had been hand-carved, in a factory of course; but still, human hands had fashioned it. Tony marveled at its dark and sinuous lines snaking this way and that as time ticked away.
He looked at his watch to reveal that it was exactly fifteen minutes after his meeting was supposed to begin. Grinning in irritation he went back to staring at the desk. It had been made just a few miles from where he sat now in a factory on Lockhart street. While most of the structure had been milled out and put together in the most modern of ways, at least for them, the details had been hand carved.
It displayed the day forces of the United States first arrived on this planet, this alternate world. Etched into the wood stood the four green berets that had first slipped through the rainbow bridge and made a tensely peaceful first contact with the Avalonian Republic.
That had been nearly three years ago and in that time the two countries had built rather respectable relations. The reasons for which were easy to explain, both sides had something that the other wanted and neither could defeat the other in a pitched war.
On the side of the United States, they wanted access to the large untapped oil reservoirs on this planet. The Avalons, they wanted our technology. The Avalons were at a stage of technological advancement that was comparable to the European powers of the 1890s in the timeline inhabited by Tony and the United States. They had little use for the oil and more use for the medical technology offered by the United States.
The bridge could only allow for the transport of a limited number of objects however and could only be opened for roughly fifteen minutes a day. This made a conquest of this planet impossible and forced the United States to rely on local workers for their pumps. The Avalons were more than happy about this arrangement as it quickly made them the richest country in the world, with only one major rival, Donovia.
Donovia was a monarchy that lay mostly on the other side of a large ocean, with the exception of a small colony that shared a thirty-mile border in the south of Avalon. The two countries were bitter rivals with more than a couple of wars between them and now there was a new and powerful trading partner to compete over.
Tony sighed as he sat in the conference room of the Grandenhall building, the seat of power in Avalon. This room was specially reserved for him and his team, decorated to match the tastes of his country. It held an American flag next to the banner of the Avalonian Republic government. The countries of this planet did not have flags as one from America would think of them where a single large flag can represent an entire nation. No, the Avalons used mostly small banners to represent regions and families, with one government banner that held official value when flown.
The door suddenly opened and in walked Tony's counterpart, ambassador Phentrop Lucius. He walked in breathing slightly heavy and his face blush.
"Mister Grenn, I apologize for my tardiness," he said with a curt bow that Tony quickly returned, "I was made to brief the chancellor on the events of the last few days this morning and it ran long."
"Oh it is quite alright, Lucius," Tony grinned as he made his way to the table, "I know you would never keep me waiting for no reason."
Lucius sat down across from Tony, setting files he had been carrying down in front of him. He quickly donned a pair of spectacles and flipped through the small mountain of paperwork until he pulled out two reports.
"So these are the reports your embassy sent us about the attacks," he finally said.
"Yes, three pumps in two days," Tony replied calmly, "134 Avalonian workers killed, 200 wounded.
And more importantly," Tony leaned in, "4 dead Americans."
There was a moment of silence between the men as the words hung in the air.
"What am I supposed to do, Lucius?" Tony finally asked, his fingers began to rap on the table.
"Your government promised to secure our pumps when we agreed not to bring troops in to do it," Tony continued, "Now you have failed that and Americans are dead. Should I tell Washington to send troops?"
"No," Lucius said, "Troops will never be allowed on Avalonian soil and you know it. Now, the war committee has already authorized the deployment of ten thousand more soldiers to guard your pumps and the national police are investigating the bombings."
"I want access to all their reports," Tony interjected, "And immediate reporting, I won't be sitting around for months waiting for your guys to finish up the investigation."
"Done"
"And one more thing," Tony said, "I want my own guy on your investigation team and he will report to me."
Lucius grimaced, he didn't know how he would sell that to Commissioner Hathkelp but he would have to if he were to keep relations normal. He nodded briskly and Tony grinned.
"It is always a pleasure, Lucius," Tony said extending his hand which was quickly grasped by Lucius.
"Likewise friend." | The American government made all scientists to work on this project and nothing else. After this, people were smelling the smell of impossibility, three years after using only renewable energy, a modest scientist called John discovered a simple bacteria that had some all-new type of matter, the "changing matter". This specific type of mass was capable of appear and disappear suddenly, apparently out of control.
John published his article in a universitary magazine. This discovery made the leaders go crazy, the presidency of the country wanted to talk with him. A letter was sent to his house and when he was reading it he almost fainted.
There was the day where John was to meet the president of the United States of America, where he talked a lot with the scientist, and the president mobilized a team of scientists to develop that idea.
TO BE CONTINUED... | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | The rift in time and space shined around the edges in flares of yellow and orange, sometimes wavering, but ultimately stabilized by the blue pillars scaffolded around it.
"This is everything we've ever dreamed and more, sir," Dr. Harvey beamed. "We can keep it open for as long as we like, and close it at a moment's notice by simply turning the diodes off. The other side is as hospitable as our own world, more or less because it effectively is our own world... with notable exceptions."
The Secretary of Energy, Ms. Duster chimed in, "This version of Earth, parallel but not quite equal... it has a sufficiently similar history that we have already determined that there was a time when complex hydrocarbons formed, then spent some time under the surface and formed the oil we know how to use."
The President rubbed his chin thoughtfully, the magnitude of the news digesting slowly in his brain. "When you say sufficiently similar, you don't mean that they're... like us?"
Dr. Harvey continued, "Well, if you're concerned with ethics, I assure you we've already analyzed our approach for any room for concern, and it is certainly safe from criticism. As you recall, we're already within a limited breach of ethics in this search for the rift, and the execution of building a hole into another Earth, but that was approved. As for the rest..."
"The rest is what I mean. They had these complex hydrocarbs, but there's no current intelligent life? No humans? Nothing to give the bleeding hearts something to whine about?"
"Well, sir, yes and no..." Dr. Harvey's face turned uncomfortable.
Secretary Duster interrupted. "More no than yes, sir. What the doctor means is, there's definitely something human-like there. They resemble us from a physical standpoint, and they do have some rudimentary societal structure that we can definitely point to as existing and even being moderately similar, but... What is intelligent life, exactly? Not these things."
"So they're human, but not human?" the President inquired.
"We wouldn't consider them human, based on their obvious lack of intellect," clarified Secretary Duster.
"How do you measure 'obvious', Ms. Duster? Dr. Harvey?"
Dr. Harvey cleared his throat before speaking. "Well sir, they voted Donald Trump in as their President." | The American government made all scientists to work on this project and nothing else. After this, people were smelling the smell of impossibility, three years after using only renewable energy, a modest scientist called John discovered a simple bacteria that had some all-new type of matter, the "changing matter". This specific type of mass was capable of appear and disappear suddenly, apparently out of control.
John published his article in a universitary magazine. This discovery made the leaders go crazy, the presidency of the country wanted to talk with him. A letter was sent to his house and when he was reading it he almost fainted.
There was the day where John was to meet the president of the United States of America, where he talked a lot with the scientist, and the president mobilized a team of scientists to develop that idea.
TO BE CONTINUED... | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | It should have figured that, rather than do the sensible thing, we as a country would decide on the hard road.
2035 will forever be remembered as the year the fossil fuels ran out. Most of the world's greatest minds pretended the years and years of warnings and predictions never existed. Man's memory, after all, is notoriously short.
For whatever reason, most of the mind hive also concluded that there were no alternatives, something the rural communities and conspiracy communes, who had long forseen this day, disbelievingly shook their heads at. Of course, most knew the real reason no one pursued clean and renewable energy. There was no money in it. Most anyone with a little time and willingness to learn could setup a system big enough to power a home or, with the right help, a community. After all, there were enough communities around to prove it. How the hell were corporations supposed to keep up with that?
So, the hive mind decided on the slightly impossible. I say slightly because a version of it had already been in existence. They just hadn't figured out how to use it to their advantage.
The answer: alternate dimensions.
Will continue later.
EDIT: PART 2 ADDED
Alternate dimensions were something of a fickle art in the science community. No real 'right' way to get one active, and no real way to keep it stable. This, of course, caused plenty of issues. Some of which spilled out into the general populace at times. At one point, a contagion made it's way through a small City before being contained via a radiation 'accident'. Another time, nightmares and hallucinations plagued the citizens of a town for months because of sound waves that were radiating up from an underground lab, waves that weren't being detected by the equipment due to some strange interference clashing with technology. By the time the wormhole collapsed, the entire town had slaughtered itself.
But I digress.
When the decision was made to search for fossil fuels elsewhere, the US was in dire straits. Outages were constant and rarely fixed. Rations gave way to riots and looting. The economy collapsed, and then society itself. We declined to a bad state, and received aid from few due to our history of alienation. Left to fend for ourselves it's no wonder this was the path taken. The hive mind became the Science Circle and they pitched the idea when we were at our lowest. So of course the population said yes. Nevermind the alternatives.
The Science Circle Corp, or SCC, pursued this avenue full speed ahead. It's amazing what can be accomplished when curiosity trumps safety. Especially the safety of the majority. Science prevailed, sometimes, and when it failed the SCC turned to the occult. That was its own problem, naturally. When respect due isn't given it almost always ends badly. Hundreds, then thousands, then tens of thousands died as these mistakes piled up. Mistakes like portals that led to dimensions no one should be dabbling in. Monsters and demons ran rampant in areas of high concentration and too often a high price was paid before the portals could be reversed. Running before learning to walk. It is the human ego that leads to problems like these. Arrogance.
Finally, as it usually does, things stabilized. A working means of dimension travel became possible, after many lessons learned. Finally, after much pain and disaster, the plans could come to fruition.
But the world had changed.
It was no longer in need of fossil fuels. All of the spillover from both science and the occult practices, not to mention the effects of the various portals and wormholes, radiation and human resilience had brought something new to the world. Something that had once only existed in the imaginations of children and the children-at-heart.
MAGIC. | The American government made all scientists to work on this project and nothing else. After this, people were smelling the smell of impossibility, three years after using only renewable energy, a modest scientist called John discovered a simple bacteria that had some all-new type of matter, the "changing matter". This specific type of mass was capable of appear and disappear suddenly, apparently out of control.
John published his article in a universitary magazine. This discovery made the leaders go crazy, the presidency of the country wanted to talk with him. A letter was sent to his house and when he was reading it he almost fainted.
There was the day where John was to meet the president of the United States of America, where he talked a lot with the scientist, and the president mobilized a team of scientists to develop that idea.
TO BE CONTINUED... | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | To preface this I've never written any sort of story before so please be kind lol.
He flipped a switch on the intimidatingly large machine. “Please.” he said softly to himself, hoping.
The humming of computer fans starting up simultaneously filled the room.
Lights began to flash on and off forcefully, as if they were trying to break out of their own bulbs.
The LCD screen to his right flickered on quickly.
“ALL SYSTEMS ONLINE…
INITIATING STARTUP SCRIPT...” it read.
His breath quickened and his heart was beating loudly in his ears.
A Tesla coil shot bolts of electricity back and forth between two metal poles.
Soon the bolts were moving so fast that they looked as though they were an impenetrable wall between two worlds.
His eyes widened. “It’s going to work!” He exclaimed, elated.
Suddenly the machine cut off. All of the lights, sounds, and bolts of electricity vanished at once.
All of his previous excitement drained from his face.
He sighed with a look of utter disappointment as he looked over to the display.
“ERROR: UNSAFE TEMPERATURES
STARTING FAIL-SAFE MECHANISM…
ALL PROCESSES SUCCESSFULLY ENDED”
He feared what would happen next.
​
“Dr. Shen!” The general yelled harshly. “What progress have you made?”
“Sir, not to be rude but how can you possibly expect me to know how close I am?” Dr. Shen said, as he continued to tinker with the machine.
“That’s fair, but you know how time sensitive this project is.” The general retorted. He continued, “We have five days before our oil reserves are all emptied. The public knows it’s bad, but certainly not this bad.”
“But sir,” Dr. Shen started, “why can’t we just follow the other countries and switch to renewable resources?”
“Son, how much money do you think the car companies will lose if they have to switch to electric?” He paused. “What about gas ovens? Huh? What will happen to our economy?”
Dr. Shen tried to form a response to this but he couldn’t seem to fully comprehend the stupidity of what he had just heard.
He was silent for a moment.
“General. Are you telling me that you are forcing me to build you a *portal* to *another dimension* so that your Honda stocks don’t go down?”
He replied softly, “Ford.” | The American government made all scientists to work on this project and nothing else. After this, people were smelling the smell of impossibility, three years after using only renewable energy, a modest scientist called John discovered a simple bacteria that had some all-new type of matter, the "changing matter". This specific type of mass was capable of appear and disappear suddenly, apparently out of control.
John published his article in a universitary magazine. This discovery made the leaders go crazy, the presidency of the country wanted to talk with him. A letter was sent to his house and when he was reading it he almost fainted.
There was the day where John was to meet the president of the United States of America, where he talked a lot with the scientist, and the president mobilized a team of scientists to develop that idea.
TO BE CONTINUED... | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | We were fools.
In our desires to preserve our technological age we broke through the fabric of reality in order to reach through and steal from dimensions that were not our own. Punching these holes came with consequences of course, but none of us could have guessed that something would grip the hand we had reached through and pull us in.
"Evans, status report." The jury rigged emergency radio they had found crackled to life in the pocket of the dimension miner. Rick Evans sighed and picked the squawker out with his free hand, clicking down the makeshift PTT and replying. "Evans. Status: clear. Uptake: Negative. And how long are we gonna have to use the damn military radio crap? I can tell you how I'm doing without sounding like a fucking robot." The silence at the other end was his answer to that question. He growled at the quiet radio and jammed it back in his pocket before flipping the switch on his gun and shooting a different section of the rock face they'd set apart for reality blasting. The standard issue Reality Diffusion Device Mk 2.7 hummed in Evan's hands as photons were violently sped up in a prismatic angular accelerator before being fired at nearly double the speed of light. The impact of these photons created minuscule controlled singularities dense enough to poke holes in reality without ruining their nearly dead Earth any more than it was. 'Course Evans just called it 'Hole-Puncher' and he didn't really care about the science as long as he got paid and didn't catch cancer. It didn't bother him either that it was energized by the last reserve energy source on the whole planet.
About an hour into blasting the rock and checking the little solar powered sonar for pings, Evans decided it was time for a well deserved break. He sat back with the Hole Puncher in his left hand and cracked a warm beer with his right, giving the can a little kiss. "Liquid bread's so much better than bread...bread." He muttered under his breath to himself, knowing full well that it was stupid but less of a fuck he could not give. He took a sip and pulled the trigger again to send another burst of photons out at the rock, checking the sonar every couple of minutes as he lounged. Now, the sonar was set to detect the faint carbon ion radiation that would indicate the presence of a fossil fuel leaking through the tiny holes. Anything else would be an unnecessary waste of power. Which is the reason why miner Rick Evans was caught completely unawares as one of the holes was ripped open from the other side, and reality shit itself.
Infinite dimensions and infinite realities means that the smallest fraction of a percentage of a chance are guaranteed to happen. In this instance two dimensions suffering the same plight fired on opposing sides of a rock grounded in the same place in reality. They punched holes between their realities in the exact opposite spot of the other and made the singularity warping reality just a little too big for its britches. Instead of winking out, unable to support itself, the singularity had barely enough mass and energy to explode into a full blown black hole spanning between two dimensions. The fabric of reality on each side imploded against the other, and both were completely and utterly erased. Leaving nothing. | The American government made all scientists to work on this project and nothing else. After this, people were smelling the smell of impossibility, three years after using only renewable energy, a modest scientist called John discovered a simple bacteria that had some all-new type of matter, the "changing matter". This specific type of mass was capable of appear and disappear suddenly, apparently out of control.
John published his article in a universitary magazine. This discovery made the leaders go crazy, the presidency of the country wanted to talk with him. A letter was sent to his house and when he was reading it he almost fainted.
There was the day where John was to meet the president of the United States of America, where he talked a lot with the scientist, and the president mobilized a team of scientists to develop that idea.
TO BE CONTINUED... | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | There was a ear splitting snap and crackle of energy that caused some of the scientists and guests in attendance to yell out in alarm.
"It's open, Earth 4!" the lead technician adjusted some dials to help solidify the edges of the portal. "We don't want anyone sucked in through the edge to any number of alternate dimensions and possibilities never to return."
The general standing behind him paled slightly. He wanted to be the one going up the ramp to look around after the robot probe had sounded the all clear. It reminded him that his risk taking days as a soldier were long behind him. He was a leader. Generals lead from the rear these days.
"Send the first RoboProbe across", the general ordered. He watched the small roving robot cross the threshold across to, Earth, just another Earth. This probe had a cable attached to it providing tethered video feeds in several spectrums including visible light, and various non-visible spectrums. While this was another Earth, hopefully, it would have oil and natural gas deposits that we could mine, or have the people of that version of Earth mine for us. We had used up all of the available stores of fossil fuels.
It was impossible to consider this was our current situation, but in 2114, we realized we were finding more and more of our seemingly endless supplies drying up. The hardest hit was for the Middle East, where they truly believed they would have oil "forever". Oil prices rose, there were riots, the royal families of the region were overthrown, country by country until anarchy ruled the region. With no oil as a promised payoff to keep the peace, the United States decided to, "Sit this one out". It was a bloodbath. The giant playgrounds of the ultra wealthy suddenly devolved into chaos. The EU initially tried to help, but it was no use. Desperate people will do what they must to survive. Once there were no "jobs" they all made an exodus of the area. Why live where you can't grow crops? Why live where there are no jobs. The best help the EU provided was to provide transport for those workers back to their home countries.
Then, the Artic and Antartic both began to dry up. These were places that we were told would have HUNDREDS of years of oil reserves, but that was simply not true. The vast Shale Oil "reserves" quit producing, coal miners discovered the end of all of the veins of coal under the Appalachian mountains. We started forcing major changes in recycling. No more single use plastics. We cleaned ALL of the plastics from the giant floating island of plastic in the Pacific ocean and thanks to the research of a young Japanese man, we were able to reclaim plastic bottles to fuel and lubricating oils. There was talk of how we were going to have to find "something else", but it always seemed that the "Big Oil" Companies found reasons that the "something else" wouldn't work, and boy did they push that agenda with their marketing machines. Finally, we ended up where we are today.
Through the science of extreme magnetism and nuclear power we discovered the way to tear a hole in the fabric of space time. We could, and WOULD get our oil from an alternate Earth. We had opened several holes to other dimensional Earths. We would look through. The first 3 such rifts we opened looked upon what seemed like vastly more technologically superior worlds. We quickly closed those rifts. We could not allow ourselves to be seen as weak. Finally on the 4th attempt, we found a forest that looked like no people had been there for years. Here is where we would send our probe to check things out.
"It looks like we are receiving signal from the probe through the wired connection via the gate just fine. Look at those trees!" The trees were magnificent. Pines growing straight up with trunks that were easily 4 feet across. there were ferns low in the forest that the probe snipped a leaf and sealed it in a container for study once it came back. After reaching a distance of 100 yards from the gate, the probe started scanning in all directions. Plant life in all directions as far as it could scan. There were animals, heat signatures of small and not so small woodland creatures as well. Nothing came up to the probe, and nothing was within visible camera range. The biologists on the project were disappointed. They hoped to see some new discovery. The temperature was warmer than they expected for this type of forest. It was 31 degrees celsius and for night time, that was warm.
No one was shocked more than Simmons, the scientist running the gate when a hole appeared in space between him and the general. "What are you doing?" a voice asked. He turned to his right, thinking it was perhaps the general who had spoken to him, to see a very pale face staring at him from a hole in reality.
"Crap! Who are you???" he yelled out. Everyone in the room turned to look at him. Those on his left saw the face as well. Those to the right saw nothing but his shocked expression and those behind him.
"You had your chance. To be honest, when you cleaned the oceans and learned how to really recycle all the plastic back into oil, we thought you were going to figure out that solar, wind, tidal and other free and renewable energy sources would provide you what you needed for your growth. We were most amazed that you discovered the gate system and alternate Earths without help." The gate widened and the 'person' came through. The portal shrunk once they were through.
"You were discovered opening portals when you opened to Earth 3207, that was our capital city you discovered. We waited for you to send a probe across, but we heard you discussing not wanting to be conquered by a technologically superior version of the planet, and you closed that portal and tucked your tails between your legs. So now, you've opened a portal to a very innocent version of our planet. One that is, however under OUR protection. Did you even think of how much energy it would take to bring OIL from there to here? Did you think about the wildlife there?"
"Now look here, whoever you are!" the general barked. "We have the right to explore and protect ourselves, it's our right as AMERICANS!"
The figure blinked as she stared at the general. "Wow, I had forgotten this had existed, see, we wiped out this type of thinking long ago.", she walked up to the general. He was at least a head taller than her. He puffed himself up and stared at the visitor, contempt in his eyes.
"How do you think you will stop us?"
It was at this point, the video feed from the RoboProbe went dark. Nobody really noticed that, or how the line, once taut, went slack. They also didn't notice the 'people' crossing over from the other gate. They had skin that was bluish black and covered in a light fur. The two individuals also wore clothes that would have seemed very fancy in the 1800s. Suits to be precise. They moved silently toward the back of the crowd staring at the visitor from Earth 3207 and each one picked a person to stand behind. Nobody noticed them, except our other visitor, but she did not acknowledge them.
"Well, actually, I won't be the one to stop you. It will be the citizens of that Earth. You see, they evolved a little differently from our Earths." She pointed to the back of the crowd. A Gasp rose, There were 30 bodies strewn across the concrete floor. The technician, the general, and a couple of other workers who were close to the visitor were the only ones left alive. The others had been slaughtered like sheep or cattle. necks and torsos slit or split open. This had been accomplished in a matter of seconds and without a sound made. More of the furry people made their way into the portal...
"Shut it down! Simmons, Shut! IT! DOWN!!!" , the General screamed. But Simmons was transfixed on the gaze of a particular looking female who had came through the portal. Was he hypnotized, under a psionic compulsion, or what, he didn't know. What he did know is that he had a new role on Earth, and she would provide rules he would play under.
Realizing that the invasion had begun, the Visitor snapped her fingers and her portal opened and slid over her body. There was no way she wanted them to gain access to her world, and this world was lost now. Knowing that Simmons could open the portal to her world again, she reached into her pants and pulled out a dagger that she plunged into his neck.
The Drow invasion has consumed another planet and there's no way to save these people. She saw more and more coming through the portal to this Earth. As her portal closed, she saw one of the dark beings run for it, trying to get through. Worse than that, she saw the victims stirring. They would be the start of their zombie army. At least Earth 3207 was safe for now. | The American government made all scientists to work on this project and nothing else. After this, people were smelling the smell of impossibility, three years after using only renewable energy, a modest scientist called John discovered a simple bacteria that had some all-new type of matter, the "changing matter". This specific type of mass was capable of appear and disappear suddenly, apparently out of control.
John published his article in a universitary magazine. This discovery made the leaders go crazy, the presidency of the country wanted to talk with him. A letter was sent to his house and when he was reading it he almost fainted.
There was the day where John was to meet the president of the United States of America, where he talked a lot with the scientist, and the president mobilized a team of scientists to develop that idea.
TO BE CONTINUED... | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | Eugene stood from his seat as a group of men entered the room. He fidgeted with nervous energy in his best black tuxedo. It was complete with a bow tie and matching silver cumberbund stretched out around his round belly. He looked down at Wallace and slapped his shoulder to get him standing too. His stocky, grey-haired friend waved Eugene's hand away and smiled.
"He's the president, not a judge," Wallace said, then turned to the president. The distinguished, lean man with a silver beard smiled at the men as he sat behind his desk. His entourage of guards took up positions around the room.
"Thank you for coming, Mr. Carter," he said. The president looked up at Eugene and chuckled. "You can sit down," and the portly man did. The president glanced over at Wallace. "And you brought your... assistant?" he asked. Eugene nodded but cringed internally. As much as he hated taking credit for Wallace's work it was almost unbearable to do it in front of him. The only way he managed was at Wallace's insistence. Wallace was brilliant but he was not interested in the kind of attention Eugene received with his stolen credit. The pair had been friends since grade school and Wallace trusted Eugene to give him a fair share of any financial gain. Eugene never disappointed him.
"I understand you've made contact with an alternate universe," the president said directly. Eugene nodded and hoped there wouldn't be any follow up questions about that particular incident. He did not think it would reflect well on him if he explained that Wallace did it. [The 'why'](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/bhame1/wp_you_have_invented_a_universeworld_changing/) could only work against their credibility.
"Can you do it again?" the president asked. Eugene started to nod but Wallace spoke up before he completed the motion.
"Why?" Wallace asked. Eugene was grateful for the interruption. He was about to divulge that it had been done many times since then, almost every week for months now. The pair of friends had a regular pizza dinner most Friday nights. They'd learned a lot about the Earths outside their own. And about the dangers of the multiverse.
"To establish diplomatic ties and begin trade," he said simply. Wallace turned and shook his head at Eugene.
"I'm sorry Mr. President, we don't know how to duplicate it. We've been trying for a while now, maybe if we had a better lab with more funding." Eugene angled for an upgrade and hoped he'd get more time to find out why Wallace said no. The president shook his head.
"I'm afraid we don't have the time to wait for you to fail. Thank you, Gentlemen. Don't worry about it too much, we have a backup plan." The president pressed a button his desk. "Send in Ms. Sharp," he said.
"NO!" Wallace bolted to his feet fast enough to make the guards reach for their guns; they stopped before drawing once Wallace put his hands up. "We'll help, we'll help!" he spoke as if someone was twisting his arm. "Don't trust her."
"You know her? How soon can you help?" The president asked. He gestured at the door and one of the guards stopped it as it opened. The suited guard peeked through the door.
"Sorry, one second, Ms. Sharp," he said.
"Today!" Wallace said. "I'll get you a list of reasonable Earths that might be open to trade," he glanced at his wristwatch. "Four hours," he shook his head. "I don't know what she's told you. She's from another Earth and she runs a company across several universes. She's powerful, dangerous, and can't be trusted."
"She's also in the room," a woman's voice said. All heads turned to the voice. It came from a lean, pale, dark-haired woman in a white suit. A shorter, rounder woman in a dark suit stood next to her. The shorter woman held the guard down on his knees with his hands behind his head. Bright blue light glowed under her right hand as it pressed the guard's hands against his skull. The remaining guards in the room raised their guns but a black cat padded into the room between the two women. It stopped in front of them and Eugene noticed it had a red skull pattern in the fur atop its head.
"I'm not here to make trouble, but I have a schedule to keep. Running a multi-verse company doesn't leave me a lot of free time," she looked at the president. "I was here on time for our appointment. I waited patiently until you called me in. Asking me to wait again after that is extremely rude. If you don't need my services, let me know now and I'll be on my way. If you want to make a deal I have enough time left to talk about it." Wallace glanced around at the guards. Four guns were drawn and aimed at the women but something seemed off. He looked to Eugene but his friend seemed to be petrified with fear. The man in the tuxedo stared at the women and Wallace thought that seemed odd. Wallace expected the man's head to be darting back and forth trying to process the situation.
While Ms. Sharp explained her actions to the president, Wallace stared at Eugene and realized he wasn't breathing. He made a surprised, worried sound and the dark-suited woman turned to look at him. Wallace realized the woman wasn't holding the guard down anymore, but he remained on his knees still holding his hands in place. The guard was as still as Eugene. He saw golden stars flash in her eyes then Ms. Sharp turned her attention to him.
"I don't think we can do business," the president said and gestured at the kneeling guard. "Not when you treat my-"
"Janet," Ms. Sharp said. The president's voice did not return after the interruption. Wallace looked and saw the president sitting perfectly still with his mouth open mid-word. Ms. Sharp smiled at Wallace.
"What should I do with you?" she asked herself. "What do you think, Melody?" she asked again after a moment of deliberation.
"He's slumbering and we don't need another Sun right now. Wake him up, it might be fun to see how this one develops."
"Janet?" Ms. Sharp asked.
"A class. Not worth saving for anything." Wallace was surprised when he heard a soft, pleasant, feminine voice come from the cat. Ms. Sharp nodded.
"Very well," she gave him a dismissive wave then turned to leave the room. "Your favorite number is 46," Ms. Sharp called out over her shoulder. "You should get that on a tattoo." Melody and Janet the cat followed her out of the room and the door close. Then several things happened at once.
"people with such disrespect," The president finished his sentence at the same time four gunshots rang out. Four bullets hit the same area on the door where Ms. Sharp had been standing moments ago. Eugene's head twisted left and right rapidly.
"Where'd she go?" he asked.
The guard that was being held on his knees flew forward as if he had been pushed down before Janet stopped time.
\*\*\*
Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is year two, story #247. You can find all my stories collected on my subreddit ([r/hugoverse](https://www.reddit.com/r/hugoverse)) or my [blog](https://hugoverse.info/). If you're curious about my universe (the Hugoverse) you can visit the [Guidebook](https://hugoverse.info/2017/11/25/hugoverse-guidebook/) to see what's what and who's who, or the [Timeline](https://hugoverse.info/2017/10/23/hugoverse-timeline/) to find the stories in order.
\*\*\*
edit: added a link to the why. | The American government made all scientists to work on this project and nothing else. After this, people were smelling the smell of impossibility, three years after using only renewable energy, a modest scientist called John discovered a simple bacteria that had some all-new type of matter, the "changing matter". This specific type of mass was capable of appear and disappear suddenly, apparently out of control.
John published his article in a universitary magazine. This discovery made the leaders go crazy, the presidency of the country wanted to talk with him. A letter was sent to his house and when he was reading it he almost fainted.
There was the day where John was to meet the president of the United States of America, where he talked a lot with the scientist, and the president mobilized a team of scientists to develop that idea.
TO BE CONTINUED... | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | The rift in time and space shined around the edges in flares of yellow and orange, sometimes wavering, but ultimately stabilized by the blue pillars scaffolded around it.
"This is everything we've ever dreamed and more, sir," Dr. Harvey beamed. "We can keep it open for as long as we like, and close it at a moment's notice by simply turning the diodes off. The other side is as hospitable as our own world, more or less because it effectively is our own world... with notable exceptions."
The Secretary of Energy, Ms. Duster chimed in, "This version of Earth, parallel but not quite equal... it has a sufficiently similar history that we have already determined that there was a time when complex hydrocarbons formed, then spent some time under the surface and formed the oil we know how to use."
The President rubbed his chin thoughtfully, the magnitude of the news digesting slowly in his brain. "When you say sufficiently similar, you don't mean that they're... like us?"
Dr. Harvey continued, "Well, if you're concerned with ethics, I assure you we've already analyzed our approach for any room for concern, and it is certainly safe from criticism. As you recall, we're already within a limited breach of ethics in this search for the rift, and the execution of building a hole into another Earth, but that was approved. As for the rest..."
"The rest is what I mean. They had these complex hydrocarbs, but there's no current intelligent life? No humans? Nothing to give the bleeding hearts something to whine about?"
"Well, sir, yes and no..." Dr. Harvey's face turned uncomfortable.
Secretary Duster interrupted. "More no than yes, sir. What the doctor means is, there's definitely something human-like there. They resemble us from a physical standpoint, and they do have some rudimentary societal structure that we can definitely point to as existing and even being moderately similar, but... What is intelligent life, exactly? Not these things."
"So they're human, but not human?" the President inquired.
"We wouldn't consider them human, based on their obvious lack of intellect," clarified Secretary Duster.
"How do you measure 'obvious', Ms. Duster? Dr. Harvey?"
Dr. Harvey cleared his throat before speaking. "Well sir, they voted Donald Trump in as their President." | *Coms? Video?* Dr. Rowen asked facing a TV screen, where he saw some of the most prominent minds and important figures of our generation sitting around a long wooden table in a room, probably some hundreds of miles away.
On the other end, the Secretary of Defense looked around the room and back, showing a thumbs up. “*We hear you loud and clear, please began when ready”* echoed through the loudspeaker.
Dr. Rowen looked around at the few guards stationed in the room, none of whom seemed to care at all about what the team was trying to accomplish. *Years of service and training to become what…adult babysitters.* He laughed to himself. He then spent the next five minutes making sure all systems were checked, all personnel knew their purpose, and maybe most importantly, that he was covered. *Bureaucracy is so quick to point fingers,* he thought.
He went to his desk and turned on the recording. *Project IDT, TEST 16! Let's begin!* He then turned to a man on the right. *Jim, start us off.*
The man pulled a lever and the gigantic metal arms in the front room started spinning. Slowly at first but picking up speed. The soft breeze soon turned into vicious gusts of wind whipping through the air. Despite being protected by solid reinforced glass and concrete, the sounds of air hitting the walls of the room could still be heard. *Speed is good, approaching 300 knots.* Jim responded
*Hains, your turn.*
A man in front hit a few buttons while looking at his screen intensely. The arms began to straighten out and a circular structure descended from the top of the room. It descended 15 feet and then stopped. A small hole opened up at the bottom.
*We’re holding steady at 300 knots, no signs of overheating sir.* Jim shouted.
Beads of sweat began to form. *Hains, let’s take it to Phase 2*.
Dr. Hainsworth pressed a few more buttons and a thin beam of light shot out of the structure hitting a raised floor panel. Two smaller metal rods then sprung out from the sides of that floor panel.
*Jim, how we looking so far?* Dr. Rowen shouted, using his shirt to wipe the sweat off his brow.
*All good sir!* Jim responded.
Dr. Rowen took a deep breath and pressed a button on his screen. The two metal rods began to move around the beam and faint glimpses of blue sparks could be seen near the rods.
*Hains, talk to me*. Dr. Rowen shouted, *talk to me!*
*Nothing’s happening sir! Temperature isn’t moving!*
*What do you mean nothing is happening?* Dr. Rowen shouted, then began to move to get a closer look.
All of the sudden the computers turn off, the light beam faded, and the metal arms slowed. The room became eclipsed in darkness aside from a few battery powered lights that shined in the corners of the room.
*SHIT!* Dr. Rowen slammed his fist against the desk. *SHIT! SHIT SHIT!* He fell back into his seat and everybody remained quiet for a few seconds, letting another failure, their 15th failure to be exact, sink in.
*Project IDT, Test 16 is a fail. Temperature was not increasing as expected in Phase 2, part 4. Check rod material and analyze alternative heat sources.*
Dr. Hainsworth swiveled in his chair but continued to look at the ground. *I’m sorry. I swear everything was set according to procedure.*
Dr. Rowen ignored him. He looked at the black TV screen and pictured seeing faces of disappointment. He figured that was actually one positive outcome. *I’ll have to deal with that mess later* he thought to himself. He was used to the disappointment though. Everybody thinks “third time’s the charm” and oh how many time’s he’s heard that joke. It takes hundreds of iterations before research has a successful break.
He stood up and stretched out his arms. *We’re done for the …*
The floor began to rattle and a thunderous screech bellowed through the air, causing Dr. Hainsworth to fall out of his chair. Dr. Rowen had no idea what was going on but a dark aura fell over him. He stood there. Silent. Frozen. *It sounded like … metal crying.* he thought to himself. He turned towards the front of the room and through the glass he could see a blur, similar to what you’d see when looking just above a flame.
*A portal?* He thought.
\---
Woot woot. Feedback much appreciated. | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | To preface this I've never written any sort of story before so please be kind lol.
He flipped a switch on the intimidatingly large machine. “Please.” he said softly to himself, hoping.
The humming of computer fans starting up simultaneously filled the room.
Lights began to flash on and off forcefully, as if they were trying to break out of their own bulbs.
The LCD screen to his right flickered on quickly.
“ALL SYSTEMS ONLINE…
INITIATING STARTUP SCRIPT...” it read.
His breath quickened and his heart was beating loudly in his ears.
A Tesla coil shot bolts of electricity back and forth between two metal poles.
Soon the bolts were moving so fast that they looked as though they were an impenetrable wall between two worlds.
His eyes widened. “It’s going to work!” He exclaimed, elated.
Suddenly the machine cut off. All of the lights, sounds, and bolts of electricity vanished at once.
All of his previous excitement drained from his face.
He sighed with a look of utter disappointment as he looked over to the display.
“ERROR: UNSAFE TEMPERATURES
STARTING FAIL-SAFE MECHANISM…
ALL PROCESSES SUCCESSFULLY ENDED”
He feared what would happen next.
​
“Dr. Shen!” The general yelled harshly. “What progress have you made?”
“Sir, not to be rude but how can you possibly expect me to know how close I am?” Dr. Shen said, as he continued to tinker with the machine.
“That’s fair, but you know how time sensitive this project is.” The general retorted. He continued, “We have five days before our oil reserves are all emptied. The public knows it’s bad, but certainly not this bad.”
“But sir,” Dr. Shen started, “why can’t we just follow the other countries and switch to renewable resources?”
“Son, how much money do you think the car companies will lose if they have to switch to electric?” He paused. “What about gas ovens? Huh? What will happen to our economy?”
Dr. Shen tried to form a response to this but he couldn’t seem to fully comprehend the stupidity of what he had just heard.
He was silent for a moment.
“General. Are you telling me that you are forcing me to build you a *portal* to *another dimension* so that your Honda stocks don’t go down?”
He replied softly, “Ford.” | *Coms? Video?* Dr. Rowen asked facing a TV screen, where he saw some of the most prominent minds and important figures of our generation sitting around a long wooden table in a room, probably some hundreds of miles away.
On the other end, the Secretary of Defense looked around the room and back, showing a thumbs up. “*We hear you loud and clear, please began when ready”* echoed through the loudspeaker.
Dr. Rowen looked around at the few guards stationed in the room, none of whom seemed to care at all about what the team was trying to accomplish. *Years of service and training to become what…adult babysitters.* He laughed to himself. He then spent the next five minutes making sure all systems were checked, all personnel knew their purpose, and maybe most importantly, that he was covered. *Bureaucracy is so quick to point fingers,* he thought.
He went to his desk and turned on the recording. *Project IDT, TEST 16! Let's begin!* He then turned to a man on the right. *Jim, start us off.*
The man pulled a lever and the gigantic metal arms in the front room started spinning. Slowly at first but picking up speed. The soft breeze soon turned into vicious gusts of wind whipping through the air. Despite being protected by solid reinforced glass and concrete, the sounds of air hitting the walls of the room could still be heard. *Speed is good, approaching 300 knots.* Jim responded
*Hains, your turn.*
A man in front hit a few buttons while looking at his screen intensely. The arms began to straighten out and a circular structure descended from the top of the room. It descended 15 feet and then stopped. A small hole opened up at the bottom.
*We’re holding steady at 300 knots, no signs of overheating sir.* Jim shouted.
Beads of sweat began to form. *Hains, let’s take it to Phase 2*.
Dr. Hainsworth pressed a few more buttons and a thin beam of light shot out of the structure hitting a raised floor panel. Two smaller metal rods then sprung out from the sides of that floor panel.
*Jim, how we looking so far?* Dr. Rowen shouted, using his shirt to wipe the sweat off his brow.
*All good sir!* Jim responded.
Dr. Rowen took a deep breath and pressed a button on his screen. The two metal rods began to move around the beam and faint glimpses of blue sparks could be seen near the rods.
*Hains, talk to me*. Dr. Rowen shouted, *talk to me!*
*Nothing’s happening sir! Temperature isn’t moving!*
*What do you mean nothing is happening?* Dr. Rowen shouted, then began to move to get a closer look.
All of the sudden the computers turn off, the light beam faded, and the metal arms slowed. The room became eclipsed in darkness aside from a few battery powered lights that shined in the corners of the room.
*SHIT!* Dr. Rowen slammed his fist against the desk. *SHIT! SHIT SHIT!* He fell back into his seat and everybody remained quiet for a few seconds, letting another failure, their 15th failure to be exact, sink in.
*Project IDT, Test 16 is a fail. Temperature was not increasing as expected in Phase 2, part 4. Check rod material and analyze alternative heat sources.*
Dr. Hainsworth swiveled in his chair but continued to look at the ground. *I’m sorry. I swear everything was set according to procedure.*
Dr. Rowen ignored him. He looked at the black TV screen and pictured seeing faces of disappointment. He figured that was actually one positive outcome. *I’ll have to deal with that mess later* he thought to himself. He was used to the disappointment though. Everybody thinks “third time’s the charm” and oh how many time’s he’s heard that joke. It takes hundreds of iterations before research has a successful break.
He stood up and stretched out his arms. *We’re done for the …*
The floor began to rattle and a thunderous screech bellowed through the air, causing Dr. Hainsworth to fall out of his chair. Dr. Rowen had no idea what was going on but a dark aura fell over him. He stood there. Silent. Frozen. *It sounded like … metal crying.* he thought to himself. He turned towards the front of the room and through the glass he could see a blur, similar to what you’d see when looking just above a flame.
*A portal?* He thought.
\---
Woot woot. Feedback much appreciated. | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | There was a ear splitting snap and crackle of energy that caused some of the scientists and guests in attendance to yell out in alarm.
"It's open, Earth 4!" the lead technician adjusted some dials to help solidify the edges of the portal. "We don't want anyone sucked in through the edge to any number of alternate dimensions and possibilities never to return."
The general standing behind him paled slightly. He wanted to be the one going up the ramp to look around after the robot probe had sounded the all clear. It reminded him that his risk taking days as a soldier were long behind him. He was a leader. Generals lead from the rear these days.
"Send the first RoboProbe across", the general ordered. He watched the small roving robot cross the threshold across to, Earth, just another Earth. This probe had a cable attached to it providing tethered video feeds in several spectrums including visible light, and various non-visible spectrums. While this was another Earth, hopefully, it would have oil and natural gas deposits that we could mine, or have the people of that version of Earth mine for us. We had used up all of the available stores of fossil fuels.
It was impossible to consider this was our current situation, but in 2114, we realized we were finding more and more of our seemingly endless supplies drying up. The hardest hit was for the Middle East, where they truly believed they would have oil "forever". Oil prices rose, there were riots, the royal families of the region were overthrown, country by country until anarchy ruled the region. With no oil as a promised payoff to keep the peace, the United States decided to, "Sit this one out". It was a bloodbath. The giant playgrounds of the ultra wealthy suddenly devolved into chaos. The EU initially tried to help, but it was no use. Desperate people will do what they must to survive. Once there were no "jobs" they all made an exodus of the area. Why live where you can't grow crops? Why live where there are no jobs. The best help the EU provided was to provide transport for those workers back to their home countries.
Then, the Artic and Antartic both began to dry up. These were places that we were told would have HUNDREDS of years of oil reserves, but that was simply not true. The vast Shale Oil "reserves" quit producing, coal miners discovered the end of all of the veins of coal under the Appalachian mountains. We started forcing major changes in recycling. No more single use plastics. We cleaned ALL of the plastics from the giant floating island of plastic in the Pacific ocean and thanks to the research of a young Japanese man, we were able to reclaim plastic bottles to fuel and lubricating oils. There was talk of how we were going to have to find "something else", but it always seemed that the "Big Oil" Companies found reasons that the "something else" wouldn't work, and boy did they push that agenda with their marketing machines. Finally, we ended up where we are today.
Through the science of extreme magnetism and nuclear power we discovered the way to tear a hole in the fabric of space time. We could, and WOULD get our oil from an alternate Earth. We had opened several holes to other dimensional Earths. We would look through. The first 3 such rifts we opened looked upon what seemed like vastly more technologically superior worlds. We quickly closed those rifts. We could not allow ourselves to be seen as weak. Finally on the 4th attempt, we found a forest that looked like no people had been there for years. Here is where we would send our probe to check things out.
"It looks like we are receiving signal from the probe through the wired connection via the gate just fine. Look at those trees!" The trees were magnificent. Pines growing straight up with trunks that were easily 4 feet across. there were ferns low in the forest that the probe snipped a leaf and sealed it in a container for study once it came back. After reaching a distance of 100 yards from the gate, the probe started scanning in all directions. Plant life in all directions as far as it could scan. There were animals, heat signatures of small and not so small woodland creatures as well. Nothing came up to the probe, and nothing was within visible camera range. The biologists on the project were disappointed. They hoped to see some new discovery. The temperature was warmer than they expected for this type of forest. It was 31 degrees celsius and for night time, that was warm.
No one was shocked more than Simmons, the scientist running the gate when a hole appeared in space between him and the general. "What are you doing?" a voice asked. He turned to his right, thinking it was perhaps the general who had spoken to him, to see a very pale face staring at him from a hole in reality.
"Crap! Who are you???" he yelled out. Everyone in the room turned to look at him. Those on his left saw the face as well. Those to the right saw nothing but his shocked expression and those behind him.
"You had your chance. To be honest, when you cleaned the oceans and learned how to really recycle all the plastic back into oil, we thought you were going to figure out that solar, wind, tidal and other free and renewable energy sources would provide you what you needed for your growth. We were most amazed that you discovered the gate system and alternate Earths without help." The gate widened and the 'person' came through. The portal shrunk once they were through.
"You were discovered opening portals when you opened to Earth 3207, that was our capital city you discovered. We waited for you to send a probe across, but we heard you discussing not wanting to be conquered by a technologically superior version of the planet, and you closed that portal and tucked your tails between your legs. So now, you've opened a portal to a very innocent version of our planet. One that is, however under OUR protection. Did you even think of how much energy it would take to bring OIL from there to here? Did you think about the wildlife there?"
"Now look here, whoever you are!" the general barked. "We have the right to explore and protect ourselves, it's our right as AMERICANS!"
The figure blinked as she stared at the general. "Wow, I had forgotten this had existed, see, we wiped out this type of thinking long ago.", she walked up to the general. He was at least a head taller than her. He puffed himself up and stared at the visitor, contempt in his eyes.
"How do you think you will stop us?"
It was at this point, the video feed from the RoboProbe went dark. Nobody really noticed that, or how the line, once taut, went slack. They also didn't notice the 'people' crossing over from the other gate. They had skin that was bluish black and covered in a light fur. The two individuals also wore clothes that would have seemed very fancy in the 1800s. Suits to be precise. They moved silently toward the back of the crowd staring at the visitor from Earth 3207 and each one picked a person to stand behind. Nobody noticed them, except our other visitor, but she did not acknowledge them.
"Well, actually, I won't be the one to stop you. It will be the citizens of that Earth. You see, they evolved a little differently from our Earths." She pointed to the back of the crowd. A Gasp rose, There were 30 bodies strewn across the concrete floor. The technician, the general, and a couple of other workers who were close to the visitor were the only ones left alive. The others had been slaughtered like sheep or cattle. necks and torsos slit or split open. This had been accomplished in a matter of seconds and without a sound made. More of the furry people made their way into the portal...
"Shut it down! Simmons, Shut! IT! DOWN!!!" , the General screamed. But Simmons was transfixed on the gaze of a particular looking female who had came through the portal. Was he hypnotized, under a psionic compulsion, or what, he didn't know. What he did know is that he had a new role on Earth, and she would provide rules he would play under.
Realizing that the invasion had begun, the Visitor snapped her fingers and her portal opened and slid over her body. There was no way she wanted them to gain access to her world, and this world was lost now. Knowing that Simmons could open the portal to her world again, she reached into her pants and pulled out a dagger that she plunged into his neck.
The Drow invasion has consumed another planet and there's no way to save these people. She saw more and more coming through the portal to this Earth. As her portal closed, she saw one of the dark beings run for it, trying to get through. Worse than that, she saw the victims stirring. They would be the start of their zombie army. At least Earth 3207 was safe for now. | *Coms? Video?* Dr. Rowen asked facing a TV screen, where he saw some of the most prominent minds and important figures of our generation sitting around a long wooden table in a room, probably some hundreds of miles away.
On the other end, the Secretary of Defense looked around the room and back, showing a thumbs up. “*We hear you loud and clear, please began when ready”* echoed through the loudspeaker.
Dr. Rowen looked around at the few guards stationed in the room, none of whom seemed to care at all about what the team was trying to accomplish. *Years of service and training to become what…adult babysitters.* He laughed to himself. He then spent the next five minutes making sure all systems were checked, all personnel knew their purpose, and maybe most importantly, that he was covered. *Bureaucracy is so quick to point fingers,* he thought.
He went to his desk and turned on the recording. *Project IDT, TEST 16! Let's begin!* He then turned to a man on the right. *Jim, start us off.*
The man pulled a lever and the gigantic metal arms in the front room started spinning. Slowly at first but picking up speed. The soft breeze soon turned into vicious gusts of wind whipping through the air. Despite being protected by solid reinforced glass and concrete, the sounds of air hitting the walls of the room could still be heard. *Speed is good, approaching 300 knots.* Jim responded
*Hains, your turn.*
A man in front hit a few buttons while looking at his screen intensely. The arms began to straighten out and a circular structure descended from the top of the room. It descended 15 feet and then stopped. A small hole opened up at the bottom.
*We’re holding steady at 300 knots, no signs of overheating sir.* Jim shouted.
Beads of sweat began to form. *Hains, let’s take it to Phase 2*.
Dr. Hainsworth pressed a few more buttons and a thin beam of light shot out of the structure hitting a raised floor panel. Two smaller metal rods then sprung out from the sides of that floor panel.
*Jim, how we looking so far?* Dr. Rowen shouted, using his shirt to wipe the sweat off his brow.
*All good sir!* Jim responded.
Dr. Rowen took a deep breath and pressed a button on his screen. The two metal rods began to move around the beam and faint glimpses of blue sparks could be seen near the rods.
*Hains, talk to me*. Dr. Rowen shouted, *talk to me!*
*Nothing’s happening sir! Temperature isn’t moving!*
*What do you mean nothing is happening?* Dr. Rowen shouted, then began to move to get a closer look.
All of the sudden the computers turn off, the light beam faded, and the metal arms slowed. The room became eclipsed in darkness aside from a few battery powered lights that shined in the corners of the room.
*SHIT!* Dr. Rowen slammed his fist against the desk. *SHIT! SHIT SHIT!* He fell back into his seat and everybody remained quiet for a few seconds, letting another failure, their 15th failure to be exact, sink in.
*Project IDT, Test 16 is a fail. Temperature was not increasing as expected in Phase 2, part 4. Check rod material and analyze alternative heat sources.*
Dr. Hainsworth swiveled in his chair but continued to look at the ground. *I’m sorry. I swear everything was set according to procedure.*
Dr. Rowen ignored him. He looked at the black TV screen and pictured seeing faces of disappointment. He figured that was actually one positive outcome. *I’ll have to deal with that mess later* he thought to himself. He was used to the disappointment though. Everybody thinks “third time’s the charm” and oh how many time’s he’s heard that joke. It takes hundreds of iterations before research has a successful break.
He stood up and stretched out his arms. *We’re done for the …*
The floor began to rattle and a thunderous screech bellowed through the air, causing Dr. Hainsworth to fall out of his chair. Dr. Rowen had no idea what was going on but a dark aura fell over him. He stood there. Silent. Frozen. *It sounded like … metal crying.* he thought to himself. He turned towards the front of the room and through the glass he could see a blur, similar to what you’d see when looking just above a flame.
*A portal?* He thought.
\---
Woot woot. Feedback much appreciated. | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | To preface this I've never written any sort of story before so please be kind lol.
He flipped a switch on the intimidatingly large machine. “Please.” he said softly to himself, hoping.
The humming of computer fans starting up simultaneously filled the room.
Lights began to flash on and off forcefully, as if they were trying to break out of their own bulbs.
The LCD screen to his right flickered on quickly.
“ALL SYSTEMS ONLINE…
INITIATING STARTUP SCRIPT...” it read.
His breath quickened and his heart was beating loudly in his ears.
A Tesla coil shot bolts of electricity back and forth between two metal poles.
Soon the bolts were moving so fast that they looked as though they were an impenetrable wall between two worlds.
His eyes widened. “It’s going to work!” He exclaimed, elated.
Suddenly the machine cut off. All of the lights, sounds, and bolts of electricity vanished at once.
All of his previous excitement drained from his face.
He sighed with a look of utter disappointment as he looked over to the display.
“ERROR: UNSAFE TEMPERATURES
STARTING FAIL-SAFE MECHANISM…
ALL PROCESSES SUCCESSFULLY ENDED”
He feared what would happen next.
​
“Dr. Shen!” The general yelled harshly. “What progress have you made?”
“Sir, not to be rude but how can you possibly expect me to know how close I am?” Dr. Shen said, as he continued to tinker with the machine.
“That’s fair, but you know how time sensitive this project is.” The general retorted. He continued, “We have five days before our oil reserves are all emptied. The public knows it’s bad, but certainly not this bad.”
“But sir,” Dr. Shen started, “why can’t we just follow the other countries and switch to renewable resources?”
“Son, how much money do you think the car companies will lose if they have to switch to electric?” He paused. “What about gas ovens? Huh? What will happen to our economy?”
Dr. Shen tried to form a response to this but he couldn’t seem to fully comprehend the stupidity of what he had just heard.
He was silent for a moment.
“General. Are you telling me that you are forcing me to build you a *portal* to *another dimension* so that your Honda stocks don’t go down?”
He replied softly, “Ford.” | "Mr President! It finally happened, we've run out of fossil fuels! The country is going to be ruined!"
I looked up from the morning paper.
"You're the 12th person to tell me about this today, what do you expect me to do about it? Bring out some secret stash of dead dinosaurs?"
He was lost for words. The energy manager I'd contracted to prevent this crisis was coming here to tell me to fix his mess. It sickened me to work with such people.
"Umm.. Well sir, we could always get fuel from other countries couldn't we?"
I hated people like him, people who think they know what's best for people without knowing anything at all.
"The whole world has run out of fuel. You're the energy manager aren't you? You're supposed to know these things. What good is an energy manager is they can't manage energy?"
Mr Energy Manager was speechless, he was practically shaking in his boots.
"Get out of my office, don't even bother packing your things."
As he backed out of the room I turned to look out of my window. The future of this glorious country rested on my shoulders and I would accomplish what I couldn't do before, this time I would succeed. A shadowy figure entered my office.
"Have the energy manager disposed of Blackmore, you should have no trouble with your ability. And make sure no one comes in here after you leave, I don't want to be disturbed."
"Of course Mr Valentine" Blackmore replied and he locked the door on his way out.
It was time to use the power I had been blessed with to bring America to the forefront of the world.
"D4C!" In a flash, I was surrounded by identical versions of myself, all seated around a large table.
"Well gentlemen, I suppose you know why I've brought you here today." I sat down in my seat and took my napkin, "We will make America the leaders of society!" And everyone else followed suit. | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | *Marvelous craftsmanship*, Tony thought as he ran his fingers over the contours of the wooden table he sat at. The body of it had been hand-carved, in a factory of course; but still, human hands had fashioned it. Tony marveled at its dark and sinuous lines snaking this way and that as time ticked away.
He looked at his watch to reveal that it was exactly fifteen minutes after his meeting was supposed to begin. Grinning in irritation he went back to staring at the desk. It had been made just a few miles from where he sat now in a factory on Lockhart street. While most of the structure had been milled out and put together in the most modern of ways, at least for them, the details had been hand carved.
It displayed the day forces of the United States first arrived on this planet, this alternate world. Etched into the wood stood the four green berets that had first slipped through the rainbow bridge and made a tensely peaceful first contact with the Avalonian Republic.
That had been nearly three years ago and in that time the two countries had built rather respectable relations. The reasons for which were easy to explain, both sides had something that the other wanted and neither could defeat the other in a pitched war.
On the side of the United States, they wanted access to the large untapped oil reservoirs on this planet. The Avalons, they wanted our technology. The Avalons were at a stage of technological advancement that was comparable to the European powers of the 1890s in the timeline inhabited by Tony and the United States. They had little use for the oil and more use for the medical technology offered by the United States.
The bridge could only allow for the transport of a limited number of objects however and could only be opened for roughly fifteen minutes a day. This made a conquest of this planet impossible and forced the United States to rely on local workers for their pumps. The Avalons were more than happy about this arrangement as it quickly made them the richest country in the world, with only one major rival, Donovia.
Donovia was a monarchy that lay mostly on the other side of a large ocean, with the exception of a small colony that shared a thirty-mile border in the south of Avalon. The two countries were bitter rivals with more than a couple of wars between them and now there was a new and powerful trading partner to compete over.
Tony sighed as he sat in the conference room of the Grandenhall building, the seat of power in Avalon. This room was specially reserved for him and his team, decorated to match the tastes of his country. It held an American flag next to the banner of the Avalonian Republic government. The countries of this planet did not have flags as one from America would think of them where a single large flag can represent an entire nation. No, the Avalons used mostly small banners to represent regions and families, with one government banner that held official value when flown.
The door suddenly opened and in walked Tony's counterpart, ambassador Phentrop Lucius. He walked in breathing slightly heavy and his face blush.
"Mister Grenn, I apologize for my tardiness," he said with a curt bow that Tony quickly returned, "I was made to brief the chancellor on the events of the last few days this morning and it ran long."
"Oh it is quite alright, Lucius," Tony grinned as he made his way to the table, "I know you would never keep me waiting for no reason."
Lucius sat down across from Tony, setting files he had been carrying down in front of him. He quickly donned a pair of spectacles and flipped through the small mountain of paperwork until he pulled out two reports.
"So these are the reports your embassy sent us about the attacks," he finally said.
"Yes, three pumps in two days," Tony replied calmly, "134 Avalonian workers killed, 200 wounded.
And more importantly," Tony leaned in, "4 dead Americans."
There was a moment of silence between the men as the words hung in the air.
"What am I supposed to do, Lucius?" Tony finally asked, his fingers began to rap on the table.
"Your government promised to secure our pumps when we agreed not to bring troops in to do it," Tony continued, "Now you have failed that and Americans are dead. Should I tell Washington to send troops?"
"No," Lucius said, "Troops will never be allowed on Avalonian soil and you know it. Now, the war committee has already authorized the deployment of ten thousand more soldiers to guard your pumps and the national police are investigating the bombings."
"I want access to all their reports," Tony interjected, "And immediate reporting, I won't be sitting around for months waiting for your guys to finish up the investigation."
"Done"
"And one more thing," Tony said, "I want my own guy on your investigation team and he will report to me."
Lucius grimaced, he didn't know how he would sell that to Commissioner Hathkelp but he would have to if he were to keep relations normal. He nodded briskly and Tony grinned.
"It is always a pleasure, Lucius," Tony said extending his hand which was quickly grasped by Lucius.
"Likewise friend." | Fusion is a phoenix of sorts. First comes death of Helium... the raw power of the sun unmaking itself with particle tearing fission. Yet, deep in that caldron of hell, pressure and temperatures reach unimaginable levels in a concoction of energy and gravity. The sun remakes itself. Fusion is god's hand reaching out to each and every atom of Hydrogen, and grasping as tightly as it takes to meld them again into Helium. The cycle that powers our solar system.
The cycle that powers our planet is much different. Our caldron of hell is called Politics, and it is ever raging with the pain and anger of billions of men and women. No more so at any point in history than today. This is the day we lost our natural resources. First oil went, then natural gas, then every synthetic supply we could turn to ethanol imaginable. Our crops, or food, or livestock... This planet is dead. We just don't know it yet.
It would take a phoenix to contain god's wrath. We did a good job of decimating this Earth in pursuits of energy all on our own. There were easier solutions, but the bureaus of energy refused to listen. They crushed every alternate source of energy for their brand of the future. Europe pushed wind and silicon solar. The US could turn CO-2 straight into Ethanol with nano carbon tubes tipped with catalytic metals. But god's wrath is NOT the sun... that's his gift. God's wrath is politics.
No one solution ever won. Humanity lost. A handful of scientists have gathered to try to contain the power of the sun. Fusion, our phoenix... God's greatest gift. With the flip of a switch the most powerful containment field ever created will come to life. With the flip of a switch, our planet may very well come back to life too.
Flip.
The magnetic containment fields of the past always failed at the temperatures Fusion created. This field was magnetic but also bent gravity. This is the first time mankind had mastered or altered singularities and you could tell right away. Where a colloidal containment field should have existed, there was nothing but spherical window. Humanity just tunneled to another dimension. The world leaders were all streaming the experiment and gasped.
The US President asked right away, "Is it another Earth? Are their natural resources in tact?"
The European Union members exploded in angst against the US. "This is your damn fault! You want their resources too?"
"The US was on the forefront of alternate energy technology! China, Russia, India all wasted resources and created pollution at rates we couldn't touch!" God's wrath was back. Politics and rhetoric.
Talking points and no compromises. This was truly the end of the world, and it had nothing to do with resources. An entire world of resources was instantly available along with countless other applications for this once in a millennia discovery. But one resource was never coming back.
Civility. | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | The rift in time and space shined around the edges in flares of yellow and orange, sometimes wavering, but ultimately stabilized by the blue pillars scaffolded around it.
"This is everything we've ever dreamed and more, sir," Dr. Harvey beamed. "We can keep it open for as long as we like, and close it at a moment's notice by simply turning the diodes off. The other side is as hospitable as our own world, more or less because it effectively is our own world... with notable exceptions."
The Secretary of Energy, Ms. Duster chimed in, "This version of Earth, parallel but not quite equal... it has a sufficiently similar history that we have already determined that there was a time when complex hydrocarbons formed, then spent some time under the surface and formed the oil we know how to use."
The President rubbed his chin thoughtfully, the magnitude of the news digesting slowly in his brain. "When you say sufficiently similar, you don't mean that they're... like us?"
Dr. Harvey continued, "Well, if you're concerned with ethics, I assure you we've already analyzed our approach for any room for concern, and it is certainly safe from criticism. As you recall, we're already within a limited breach of ethics in this search for the rift, and the execution of building a hole into another Earth, but that was approved. As for the rest..."
"The rest is what I mean. They had these complex hydrocarbs, but there's no current intelligent life? No humans? Nothing to give the bleeding hearts something to whine about?"
"Well, sir, yes and no..." Dr. Harvey's face turned uncomfortable.
Secretary Duster interrupted. "More no than yes, sir. What the doctor means is, there's definitely something human-like there. They resemble us from a physical standpoint, and they do have some rudimentary societal structure that we can definitely point to as existing and even being moderately similar, but... What is intelligent life, exactly? Not these things."
"So they're human, but not human?" the President inquired.
"We wouldn't consider them human, based on their obvious lack of intellect," clarified Secretary Duster.
"How do you measure 'obvious', Ms. Duster? Dr. Harvey?"
Dr. Harvey cleared his throat before speaking. "Well sir, they voted Donald Trump in as their President." | Fusion is a phoenix of sorts. First comes death of Helium... the raw power of the sun unmaking itself with particle tearing fission. Yet, deep in that caldron of hell, pressure and temperatures reach unimaginable levels in a concoction of energy and gravity. The sun remakes itself. Fusion is god's hand reaching out to each and every atom of Hydrogen, and grasping as tightly as it takes to meld them again into Helium. The cycle that powers our solar system.
The cycle that powers our planet is much different. Our caldron of hell is called Politics, and it is ever raging with the pain and anger of billions of men and women. No more so at any point in history than today. This is the day we lost our natural resources. First oil went, then natural gas, then every synthetic supply we could turn to ethanol imaginable. Our crops, or food, or livestock... This planet is dead. We just don't know it yet.
It would take a phoenix to contain god's wrath. We did a good job of decimating this Earth in pursuits of energy all on our own. There were easier solutions, but the bureaus of energy refused to listen. They crushed every alternate source of energy for their brand of the future. Europe pushed wind and silicon solar. The US could turn CO-2 straight into Ethanol with nano carbon tubes tipped with catalytic metals. But god's wrath is NOT the sun... that's his gift. God's wrath is politics.
No one solution ever won. Humanity lost. A handful of scientists have gathered to try to contain the power of the sun. Fusion, our phoenix... God's greatest gift. With the flip of a switch the most powerful containment field ever created will come to life. With the flip of a switch, our planet may very well come back to life too.
Flip.
The magnetic containment fields of the past always failed at the temperatures Fusion created. This field was magnetic but also bent gravity. This is the first time mankind had mastered or altered singularities and you could tell right away. Where a colloidal containment field should have existed, there was nothing but spherical window. Humanity just tunneled to another dimension. The world leaders were all streaming the experiment and gasped.
The US President asked right away, "Is it another Earth? Are their natural resources in tact?"
The European Union members exploded in angst against the US. "This is your damn fault! You want their resources too?"
"The US was on the forefront of alternate energy technology! China, Russia, India all wasted resources and created pollution at rates we couldn't touch!" God's wrath was back. Politics and rhetoric.
Talking points and no compromises. This was truly the end of the world, and it had nothing to do with resources. An entire world of resources was instantly available along with countless other applications for this once in a millennia discovery. But one resource was never coming back.
Civility. | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | It should have figured that, rather than do the sensible thing, we as a country would decide on the hard road.
2035 will forever be remembered as the year the fossil fuels ran out. Most of the world's greatest minds pretended the years and years of warnings and predictions never existed. Man's memory, after all, is notoriously short.
For whatever reason, most of the mind hive also concluded that there were no alternatives, something the rural communities and conspiracy communes, who had long forseen this day, disbelievingly shook their heads at. Of course, most knew the real reason no one pursued clean and renewable energy. There was no money in it. Most anyone with a little time and willingness to learn could setup a system big enough to power a home or, with the right help, a community. After all, there were enough communities around to prove it. How the hell were corporations supposed to keep up with that?
So, the hive mind decided on the slightly impossible. I say slightly because a version of it had already been in existence. They just hadn't figured out how to use it to their advantage.
The answer: alternate dimensions.
Will continue later.
EDIT: PART 2 ADDED
Alternate dimensions were something of a fickle art in the science community. No real 'right' way to get one active, and no real way to keep it stable. This, of course, caused plenty of issues. Some of which spilled out into the general populace at times. At one point, a contagion made it's way through a small City before being contained via a radiation 'accident'. Another time, nightmares and hallucinations plagued the citizens of a town for months because of sound waves that were radiating up from an underground lab, waves that weren't being detected by the equipment due to some strange interference clashing with technology. By the time the wormhole collapsed, the entire town had slaughtered itself.
But I digress.
When the decision was made to search for fossil fuels elsewhere, the US was in dire straits. Outages were constant and rarely fixed. Rations gave way to riots and looting. The economy collapsed, and then society itself. We declined to a bad state, and received aid from few due to our history of alienation. Left to fend for ourselves it's no wonder this was the path taken. The hive mind became the Science Circle and they pitched the idea when we were at our lowest. So of course the population said yes. Nevermind the alternatives.
The Science Circle Corp, or SCC, pursued this avenue full speed ahead. It's amazing what can be accomplished when curiosity trumps safety. Especially the safety of the majority. Science prevailed, sometimes, and when it failed the SCC turned to the occult. That was its own problem, naturally. When respect due isn't given it almost always ends badly. Hundreds, then thousands, then tens of thousands died as these mistakes piled up. Mistakes like portals that led to dimensions no one should be dabbling in. Monsters and demons ran rampant in areas of high concentration and too often a high price was paid before the portals could be reversed. Running before learning to walk. It is the human ego that leads to problems like these. Arrogance.
Finally, as it usually does, things stabilized. A working means of dimension travel became possible, after many lessons learned. Finally, after much pain and disaster, the plans could come to fruition.
But the world had changed.
It was no longer in need of fossil fuels. All of the spillover from both science and the occult practices, not to mention the effects of the various portals and wormholes, radiation and human resilience had brought something new to the world. Something that had once only existed in the imaginations of children and the children-at-heart.
MAGIC. | Fusion is a phoenix of sorts. First comes death of Helium... the raw power of the sun unmaking itself with particle tearing fission. Yet, deep in that caldron of hell, pressure and temperatures reach unimaginable levels in a concoction of energy and gravity. The sun remakes itself. Fusion is god's hand reaching out to each and every atom of Hydrogen, and grasping as tightly as it takes to meld them again into Helium. The cycle that powers our solar system.
The cycle that powers our planet is much different. Our caldron of hell is called Politics, and it is ever raging with the pain and anger of billions of men and women. No more so at any point in history than today. This is the day we lost our natural resources. First oil went, then natural gas, then every synthetic supply we could turn to ethanol imaginable. Our crops, or food, or livestock... This planet is dead. We just don't know it yet.
It would take a phoenix to contain god's wrath. We did a good job of decimating this Earth in pursuits of energy all on our own. There were easier solutions, but the bureaus of energy refused to listen. They crushed every alternate source of energy for their brand of the future. Europe pushed wind and silicon solar. The US could turn CO-2 straight into Ethanol with nano carbon tubes tipped with catalytic metals. But god's wrath is NOT the sun... that's his gift. God's wrath is politics.
No one solution ever won. Humanity lost. A handful of scientists have gathered to try to contain the power of the sun. Fusion, our phoenix... God's greatest gift. With the flip of a switch the most powerful containment field ever created will come to life. With the flip of a switch, our planet may very well come back to life too.
Flip.
The magnetic containment fields of the past always failed at the temperatures Fusion created. This field was magnetic but also bent gravity. This is the first time mankind had mastered or altered singularities and you could tell right away. Where a colloidal containment field should have existed, there was nothing but spherical window. Humanity just tunneled to another dimension. The world leaders were all streaming the experiment and gasped.
The US President asked right away, "Is it another Earth? Are their natural resources in tact?"
The European Union members exploded in angst against the US. "This is your damn fault! You want their resources too?"
"The US was on the forefront of alternate energy technology! China, Russia, India all wasted resources and created pollution at rates we couldn't touch!" God's wrath was back. Politics and rhetoric.
Talking points and no compromises. This was truly the end of the world, and it had nothing to do with resources. An entire world of resources was instantly available along with countless other applications for this once in a millennia discovery. But one resource was never coming back.
Civility. | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | To preface this I've never written any sort of story before so please be kind lol.
He flipped a switch on the intimidatingly large machine. “Please.” he said softly to himself, hoping.
The humming of computer fans starting up simultaneously filled the room.
Lights began to flash on and off forcefully, as if they were trying to break out of their own bulbs.
The LCD screen to his right flickered on quickly.
“ALL SYSTEMS ONLINE…
INITIATING STARTUP SCRIPT...” it read.
His breath quickened and his heart was beating loudly in his ears.
A Tesla coil shot bolts of electricity back and forth between two metal poles.
Soon the bolts were moving so fast that they looked as though they were an impenetrable wall between two worlds.
His eyes widened. “It’s going to work!” He exclaimed, elated.
Suddenly the machine cut off. All of the lights, sounds, and bolts of electricity vanished at once.
All of his previous excitement drained from his face.
He sighed with a look of utter disappointment as he looked over to the display.
“ERROR: UNSAFE TEMPERATURES
STARTING FAIL-SAFE MECHANISM…
ALL PROCESSES SUCCESSFULLY ENDED”
He feared what would happen next.
​
“Dr. Shen!” The general yelled harshly. “What progress have you made?”
“Sir, not to be rude but how can you possibly expect me to know how close I am?” Dr. Shen said, as he continued to tinker with the machine.
“That’s fair, but you know how time sensitive this project is.” The general retorted. He continued, “We have five days before our oil reserves are all emptied. The public knows it’s bad, but certainly not this bad.”
“But sir,” Dr. Shen started, “why can’t we just follow the other countries and switch to renewable resources?”
“Son, how much money do you think the car companies will lose if they have to switch to electric?” He paused. “What about gas ovens? Huh? What will happen to our economy?”
Dr. Shen tried to form a response to this but he couldn’t seem to fully comprehend the stupidity of what he had just heard.
He was silent for a moment.
“General. Are you telling me that you are forcing me to build you a *portal* to *another dimension* so that your Honda stocks don’t go down?”
He replied softly, “Ford.” | Fusion is a phoenix of sorts. First comes death of Helium... the raw power of the sun unmaking itself with particle tearing fission. Yet, deep in that caldron of hell, pressure and temperatures reach unimaginable levels in a concoction of energy and gravity. The sun remakes itself. Fusion is god's hand reaching out to each and every atom of Hydrogen, and grasping as tightly as it takes to meld them again into Helium. The cycle that powers our solar system.
The cycle that powers our planet is much different. Our caldron of hell is called Politics, and it is ever raging with the pain and anger of billions of men and women. No more so at any point in history than today. This is the day we lost our natural resources. First oil went, then natural gas, then every synthetic supply we could turn to ethanol imaginable. Our crops, or food, or livestock... This planet is dead. We just don't know it yet.
It would take a phoenix to contain god's wrath. We did a good job of decimating this Earth in pursuits of energy all on our own. There were easier solutions, but the bureaus of energy refused to listen. They crushed every alternate source of energy for their brand of the future. Europe pushed wind and silicon solar. The US could turn CO-2 straight into Ethanol with nano carbon tubes tipped with catalytic metals. But god's wrath is NOT the sun... that's his gift. God's wrath is politics.
No one solution ever won. Humanity lost. A handful of scientists have gathered to try to contain the power of the sun. Fusion, our phoenix... God's greatest gift. With the flip of a switch the most powerful containment field ever created will come to life. With the flip of a switch, our planet may very well come back to life too.
Flip.
The magnetic containment fields of the past always failed at the temperatures Fusion created. This field was magnetic but also bent gravity. This is the first time mankind had mastered or altered singularities and you could tell right away. Where a colloidal containment field should have existed, there was nothing but spherical window. Humanity just tunneled to another dimension. The world leaders were all streaming the experiment and gasped.
The US President asked right away, "Is it another Earth? Are their natural resources in tact?"
The European Union members exploded in angst against the US. "This is your damn fault! You want their resources too?"
"The US was on the forefront of alternate energy technology! China, Russia, India all wasted resources and created pollution at rates we couldn't touch!" God's wrath was back. Politics and rhetoric.
Talking points and no compromises. This was truly the end of the world, and it had nothing to do with resources. An entire world of resources was instantly available along with countless other applications for this once in a millennia discovery. But one resource was never coming back.
Civility. | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | We were fools.
In our desires to preserve our technological age we broke through the fabric of reality in order to reach through and steal from dimensions that were not our own. Punching these holes came with consequences of course, but none of us could have guessed that something would grip the hand we had reached through and pull us in.
"Evans, status report." The jury rigged emergency radio they had found crackled to life in the pocket of the dimension miner. Rick Evans sighed and picked the squawker out with his free hand, clicking down the makeshift PTT and replying. "Evans. Status: clear. Uptake: Negative. And how long are we gonna have to use the damn military radio crap? I can tell you how I'm doing without sounding like a fucking robot." The silence at the other end was his answer to that question. He growled at the quiet radio and jammed it back in his pocket before flipping the switch on his gun and shooting a different section of the rock face they'd set apart for reality blasting. The standard issue Reality Diffusion Device Mk 2.7 hummed in Evan's hands as photons were violently sped up in a prismatic angular accelerator before being fired at nearly double the speed of light. The impact of these photons created minuscule controlled singularities dense enough to poke holes in reality without ruining their nearly dead Earth any more than it was. 'Course Evans just called it 'Hole-Puncher' and he didn't really care about the science as long as he got paid and didn't catch cancer. It didn't bother him either that it was energized by the last reserve energy source on the whole planet.
About an hour into blasting the rock and checking the little solar powered sonar for pings, Evans decided it was time for a well deserved break. He sat back with the Hole Puncher in his left hand and cracked a warm beer with his right, giving the can a little kiss. "Liquid bread's so much better than bread...bread." He muttered under his breath to himself, knowing full well that it was stupid but less of a fuck he could not give. He took a sip and pulled the trigger again to send another burst of photons out at the rock, checking the sonar every couple of minutes as he lounged. Now, the sonar was set to detect the faint carbon ion radiation that would indicate the presence of a fossil fuel leaking through the tiny holes. Anything else would be an unnecessary waste of power. Which is the reason why miner Rick Evans was caught completely unawares as one of the holes was ripped open from the other side, and reality shit itself.
Infinite dimensions and infinite realities means that the smallest fraction of a percentage of a chance are guaranteed to happen. In this instance two dimensions suffering the same plight fired on opposing sides of a rock grounded in the same place in reality. They punched holes between their realities in the exact opposite spot of the other and made the singularity warping reality just a little too big for its britches. Instead of winking out, unable to support itself, the singularity had barely enough mass and energy to explode into a full blown black hole spanning between two dimensions. The fabric of reality on each side imploded against the other, and both were completely and utterly erased. Leaving nothing. | Fusion is a phoenix of sorts. First comes death of Helium... the raw power of the sun unmaking itself with particle tearing fission. Yet, deep in that caldron of hell, pressure and temperatures reach unimaginable levels in a concoction of energy and gravity. The sun remakes itself. Fusion is god's hand reaching out to each and every atom of Hydrogen, and grasping as tightly as it takes to meld them again into Helium. The cycle that powers our solar system.
The cycle that powers our planet is much different. Our caldron of hell is called Politics, and it is ever raging with the pain and anger of billions of men and women. No more so at any point in history than today. This is the day we lost our natural resources. First oil went, then natural gas, then every synthetic supply we could turn to ethanol imaginable. Our crops, or food, or livestock... This planet is dead. We just don't know it yet.
It would take a phoenix to contain god's wrath. We did a good job of decimating this Earth in pursuits of energy all on our own. There were easier solutions, but the bureaus of energy refused to listen. They crushed every alternate source of energy for their brand of the future. Europe pushed wind and silicon solar. The US could turn CO-2 straight into Ethanol with nano carbon tubes tipped with catalytic metals. But god's wrath is NOT the sun... that's his gift. God's wrath is politics.
No one solution ever won. Humanity lost. A handful of scientists have gathered to try to contain the power of the sun. Fusion, our phoenix... God's greatest gift. With the flip of a switch the most powerful containment field ever created will come to life. With the flip of a switch, our planet may very well come back to life too.
Flip.
The magnetic containment fields of the past always failed at the temperatures Fusion created. This field was magnetic but also bent gravity. This is the first time mankind had mastered or altered singularities and you could tell right away. Where a colloidal containment field should have existed, there was nothing but spherical window. Humanity just tunneled to another dimension. The world leaders were all streaming the experiment and gasped.
The US President asked right away, "Is it another Earth? Are their natural resources in tact?"
The European Union members exploded in angst against the US. "This is your damn fault! You want their resources too?"
"The US was on the forefront of alternate energy technology! China, Russia, India all wasted resources and created pollution at rates we couldn't touch!" God's wrath was back. Politics and rhetoric.
Talking points and no compromises. This was truly the end of the world, and it had nothing to do with resources. An entire world of resources was instantly available along with countless other applications for this once in a millennia discovery. But one resource was never coming back.
Civility. | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | There was a ear splitting snap and crackle of energy that caused some of the scientists and guests in attendance to yell out in alarm.
"It's open, Earth 4!" the lead technician adjusted some dials to help solidify the edges of the portal. "We don't want anyone sucked in through the edge to any number of alternate dimensions and possibilities never to return."
The general standing behind him paled slightly. He wanted to be the one going up the ramp to look around after the robot probe had sounded the all clear. It reminded him that his risk taking days as a soldier were long behind him. He was a leader. Generals lead from the rear these days.
"Send the first RoboProbe across", the general ordered. He watched the small roving robot cross the threshold across to, Earth, just another Earth. This probe had a cable attached to it providing tethered video feeds in several spectrums including visible light, and various non-visible spectrums. While this was another Earth, hopefully, it would have oil and natural gas deposits that we could mine, or have the people of that version of Earth mine for us. We had used up all of the available stores of fossil fuels.
It was impossible to consider this was our current situation, but in 2114, we realized we were finding more and more of our seemingly endless supplies drying up. The hardest hit was for the Middle East, where they truly believed they would have oil "forever". Oil prices rose, there were riots, the royal families of the region were overthrown, country by country until anarchy ruled the region. With no oil as a promised payoff to keep the peace, the United States decided to, "Sit this one out". It was a bloodbath. The giant playgrounds of the ultra wealthy suddenly devolved into chaos. The EU initially tried to help, but it was no use. Desperate people will do what they must to survive. Once there were no "jobs" they all made an exodus of the area. Why live where you can't grow crops? Why live where there are no jobs. The best help the EU provided was to provide transport for those workers back to their home countries.
Then, the Artic and Antartic both began to dry up. These were places that we were told would have HUNDREDS of years of oil reserves, but that was simply not true. The vast Shale Oil "reserves" quit producing, coal miners discovered the end of all of the veins of coal under the Appalachian mountains. We started forcing major changes in recycling. No more single use plastics. We cleaned ALL of the plastics from the giant floating island of plastic in the Pacific ocean and thanks to the research of a young Japanese man, we were able to reclaim plastic bottles to fuel and lubricating oils. There was talk of how we were going to have to find "something else", but it always seemed that the "Big Oil" Companies found reasons that the "something else" wouldn't work, and boy did they push that agenda with their marketing machines. Finally, we ended up where we are today.
Through the science of extreme magnetism and nuclear power we discovered the way to tear a hole in the fabric of space time. We could, and WOULD get our oil from an alternate Earth. We had opened several holes to other dimensional Earths. We would look through. The first 3 such rifts we opened looked upon what seemed like vastly more technologically superior worlds. We quickly closed those rifts. We could not allow ourselves to be seen as weak. Finally on the 4th attempt, we found a forest that looked like no people had been there for years. Here is where we would send our probe to check things out.
"It looks like we are receiving signal from the probe through the wired connection via the gate just fine. Look at those trees!" The trees were magnificent. Pines growing straight up with trunks that were easily 4 feet across. there were ferns low in the forest that the probe snipped a leaf and sealed it in a container for study once it came back. After reaching a distance of 100 yards from the gate, the probe started scanning in all directions. Plant life in all directions as far as it could scan. There were animals, heat signatures of small and not so small woodland creatures as well. Nothing came up to the probe, and nothing was within visible camera range. The biologists on the project were disappointed. They hoped to see some new discovery. The temperature was warmer than they expected for this type of forest. It was 31 degrees celsius and for night time, that was warm.
No one was shocked more than Simmons, the scientist running the gate when a hole appeared in space between him and the general. "What are you doing?" a voice asked. He turned to his right, thinking it was perhaps the general who had spoken to him, to see a very pale face staring at him from a hole in reality.
"Crap! Who are you???" he yelled out. Everyone in the room turned to look at him. Those on his left saw the face as well. Those to the right saw nothing but his shocked expression and those behind him.
"You had your chance. To be honest, when you cleaned the oceans and learned how to really recycle all the plastic back into oil, we thought you were going to figure out that solar, wind, tidal and other free and renewable energy sources would provide you what you needed for your growth. We were most amazed that you discovered the gate system and alternate Earths without help." The gate widened and the 'person' came through. The portal shrunk once they were through.
"You were discovered opening portals when you opened to Earth 3207, that was our capital city you discovered. We waited for you to send a probe across, but we heard you discussing not wanting to be conquered by a technologically superior version of the planet, and you closed that portal and tucked your tails between your legs. So now, you've opened a portal to a very innocent version of our planet. One that is, however under OUR protection. Did you even think of how much energy it would take to bring OIL from there to here? Did you think about the wildlife there?"
"Now look here, whoever you are!" the general barked. "We have the right to explore and protect ourselves, it's our right as AMERICANS!"
The figure blinked as she stared at the general. "Wow, I had forgotten this had existed, see, we wiped out this type of thinking long ago.", she walked up to the general. He was at least a head taller than her. He puffed himself up and stared at the visitor, contempt in his eyes.
"How do you think you will stop us?"
It was at this point, the video feed from the RoboProbe went dark. Nobody really noticed that, or how the line, once taut, went slack. They also didn't notice the 'people' crossing over from the other gate. They had skin that was bluish black and covered in a light fur. The two individuals also wore clothes that would have seemed very fancy in the 1800s. Suits to be precise. They moved silently toward the back of the crowd staring at the visitor from Earth 3207 and each one picked a person to stand behind. Nobody noticed them, except our other visitor, but she did not acknowledge them.
"Well, actually, I won't be the one to stop you. It will be the citizens of that Earth. You see, they evolved a little differently from our Earths." She pointed to the back of the crowd. A Gasp rose, There were 30 bodies strewn across the concrete floor. The technician, the general, and a couple of other workers who were close to the visitor were the only ones left alive. The others had been slaughtered like sheep or cattle. necks and torsos slit or split open. This had been accomplished in a matter of seconds and without a sound made. More of the furry people made their way into the portal...
"Shut it down! Simmons, Shut! IT! DOWN!!!" , the General screamed. But Simmons was transfixed on the gaze of a particular looking female who had came through the portal. Was he hypnotized, under a psionic compulsion, or what, he didn't know. What he did know is that he had a new role on Earth, and she would provide rules he would play under.
Realizing that the invasion had begun, the Visitor snapped her fingers and her portal opened and slid over her body. There was no way she wanted them to gain access to her world, and this world was lost now. Knowing that Simmons could open the portal to her world again, she reached into her pants and pulled out a dagger that she plunged into his neck.
The Drow invasion has consumed another planet and there's no way to save these people. She saw more and more coming through the portal to this Earth. As her portal closed, she saw one of the dark beings run for it, trying to get through. Worse than that, she saw the victims stirring. They would be the start of their zombie army. At least Earth 3207 was safe for now. | Fusion is a phoenix of sorts. First comes death of Helium... the raw power of the sun unmaking itself with particle tearing fission. Yet, deep in that caldron of hell, pressure and temperatures reach unimaginable levels in a concoction of energy and gravity. The sun remakes itself. Fusion is god's hand reaching out to each and every atom of Hydrogen, and grasping as tightly as it takes to meld them again into Helium. The cycle that powers our solar system.
The cycle that powers our planet is much different. Our caldron of hell is called Politics, and it is ever raging with the pain and anger of billions of men and women. No more so at any point in history than today. This is the day we lost our natural resources. First oil went, then natural gas, then every synthetic supply we could turn to ethanol imaginable. Our crops, or food, or livestock... This planet is dead. We just don't know it yet.
It would take a phoenix to contain god's wrath. We did a good job of decimating this Earth in pursuits of energy all on our own. There were easier solutions, but the bureaus of energy refused to listen. They crushed every alternate source of energy for their brand of the future. Europe pushed wind and silicon solar. The US could turn CO-2 straight into Ethanol with nano carbon tubes tipped with catalytic metals. But god's wrath is NOT the sun... that's his gift. God's wrath is politics.
No one solution ever won. Humanity lost. A handful of scientists have gathered to try to contain the power of the sun. Fusion, our phoenix... God's greatest gift. With the flip of a switch the most powerful containment field ever created will come to life. With the flip of a switch, our planet may very well come back to life too.
Flip.
The magnetic containment fields of the past always failed at the temperatures Fusion created. This field was magnetic but also bent gravity. This is the first time mankind had mastered or altered singularities and you could tell right away. Where a colloidal containment field should have existed, there was nothing but spherical window. Humanity just tunneled to another dimension. The world leaders were all streaming the experiment and gasped.
The US President asked right away, "Is it another Earth? Are their natural resources in tact?"
The European Union members exploded in angst against the US. "This is your damn fault! You want their resources too?"
"The US was on the forefront of alternate energy technology! China, Russia, India all wasted resources and created pollution at rates we couldn't touch!" God's wrath was back. Politics and rhetoric.
Talking points and no compromises. This was truly the end of the world, and it had nothing to do with resources. An entire world of resources was instantly available along with countless other applications for this once in a millennia discovery. But one resource was never coming back.
Civility. | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | Eugene stood from his seat as a group of men entered the room. He fidgeted with nervous energy in his best black tuxedo. It was complete with a bow tie and matching silver cumberbund stretched out around his round belly. He looked down at Wallace and slapped his shoulder to get him standing too. His stocky, grey-haired friend waved Eugene's hand away and smiled.
"He's the president, not a judge," Wallace said, then turned to the president. The distinguished, lean man with a silver beard smiled at the men as he sat behind his desk. His entourage of guards took up positions around the room.
"Thank you for coming, Mr. Carter," he said. The president looked up at Eugene and chuckled. "You can sit down," and the portly man did. The president glanced over at Wallace. "And you brought your... assistant?" he asked. Eugene nodded but cringed internally. As much as he hated taking credit for Wallace's work it was almost unbearable to do it in front of him. The only way he managed was at Wallace's insistence. Wallace was brilliant but he was not interested in the kind of attention Eugene received with his stolen credit. The pair had been friends since grade school and Wallace trusted Eugene to give him a fair share of any financial gain. Eugene never disappointed him.
"I understand you've made contact with an alternate universe," the president said directly. Eugene nodded and hoped there wouldn't be any follow up questions about that particular incident. He did not think it would reflect well on him if he explained that Wallace did it. [The 'why'](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/bhame1/wp_you_have_invented_a_universeworld_changing/) could only work against their credibility.
"Can you do it again?" the president asked. Eugene started to nod but Wallace spoke up before he completed the motion.
"Why?" Wallace asked. Eugene was grateful for the interruption. He was about to divulge that it had been done many times since then, almost every week for months now. The pair of friends had a regular pizza dinner most Friday nights. They'd learned a lot about the Earths outside their own. And about the dangers of the multiverse.
"To establish diplomatic ties and begin trade," he said simply. Wallace turned and shook his head at Eugene.
"I'm sorry Mr. President, we don't know how to duplicate it. We've been trying for a while now, maybe if we had a better lab with more funding." Eugene angled for an upgrade and hoped he'd get more time to find out why Wallace said no. The president shook his head.
"I'm afraid we don't have the time to wait for you to fail. Thank you, Gentlemen. Don't worry about it too much, we have a backup plan." The president pressed a button his desk. "Send in Ms. Sharp," he said.
"NO!" Wallace bolted to his feet fast enough to make the guards reach for their guns; they stopped before drawing once Wallace put his hands up. "We'll help, we'll help!" he spoke as if someone was twisting his arm. "Don't trust her."
"You know her? How soon can you help?" The president asked. He gestured at the door and one of the guards stopped it as it opened. The suited guard peeked through the door.
"Sorry, one second, Ms. Sharp," he said.
"Today!" Wallace said. "I'll get you a list of reasonable Earths that might be open to trade," he glanced at his wristwatch. "Four hours," he shook his head. "I don't know what she's told you. She's from another Earth and she runs a company across several universes. She's powerful, dangerous, and can't be trusted."
"She's also in the room," a woman's voice said. All heads turned to the voice. It came from a lean, pale, dark-haired woman in a white suit. A shorter, rounder woman in a dark suit stood next to her. The shorter woman held the guard down on his knees with his hands behind his head. Bright blue light glowed under her right hand as it pressed the guard's hands against his skull. The remaining guards in the room raised their guns but a black cat padded into the room between the two women. It stopped in front of them and Eugene noticed it had a red skull pattern in the fur atop its head.
"I'm not here to make trouble, but I have a schedule to keep. Running a multi-verse company doesn't leave me a lot of free time," she looked at the president. "I was here on time for our appointment. I waited patiently until you called me in. Asking me to wait again after that is extremely rude. If you don't need my services, let me know now and I'll be on my way. If you want to make a deal I have enough time left to talk about it." Wallace glanced around at the guards. Four guns were drawn and aimed at the women but something seemed off. He looked to Eugene but his friend seemed to be petrified with fear. The man in the tuxedo stared at the women and Wallace thought that seemed odd. Wallace expected the man's head to be darting back and forth trying to process the situation.
While Ms. Sharp explained her actions to the president, Wallace stared at Eugene and realized he wasn't breathing. He made a surprised, worried sound and the dark-suited woman turned to look at him. Wallace realized the woman wasn't holding the guard down anymore, but he remained on his knees still holding his hands in place. The guard was as still as Eugene. He saw golden stars flash in her eyes then Ms. Sharp turned her attention to him.
"I don't think we can do business," the president said and gestured at the kneeling guard. "Not when you treat my-"
"Janet," Ms. Sharp said. The president's voice did not return after the interruption. Wallace looked and saw the president sitting perfectly still with his mouth open mid-word. Ms. Sharp smiled at Wallace.
"What should I do with you?" she asked herself. "What do you think, Melody?" she asked again after a moment of deliberation.
"He's slumbering and we don't need another Sun right now. Wake him up, it might be fun to see how this one develops."
"Janet?" Ms. Sharp asked.
"A class. Not worth saving for anything." Wallace was surprised when he heard a soft, pleasant, feminine voice come from the cat. Ms. Sharp nodded.
"Very well," she gave him a dismissive wave then turned to leave the room. "Your favorite number is 46," Ms. Sharp called out over her shoulder. "You should get that on a tattoo." Melody and Janet the cat followed her out of the room and the door close. Then several things happened at once.
"people with such disrespect," The president finished his sentence at the same time four gunshots rang out. Four bullets hit the same area on the door where Ms. Sharp had been standing moments ago. Eugene's head twisted left and right rapidly.
"Where'd she go?" he asked.
The guard that was being held on his knees flew forward as if he had been pushed down before Janet stopped time.
\*\*\*
Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is year two, story #247. You can find all my stories collected on my subreddit ([r/hugoverse](https://www.reddit.com/r/hugoverse)) or my [blog](https://hugoverse.info/). If you're curious about my universe (the Hugoverse) you can visit the [Guidebook](https://hugoverse.info/2017/11/25/hugoverse-guidebook/) to see what's what and who's who, or the [Timeline](https://hugoverse.info/2017/10/23/hugoverse-timeline/) to find the stories in order.
\*\*\*
edit: added a link to the why. | Fusion is a phoenix of sorts. First comes death of Helium... the raw power of the sun unmaking itself with particle tearing fission. Yet, deep in that caldron of hell, pressure and temperatures reach unimaginable levels in a concoction of energy and gravity. The sun remakes itself. Fusion is god's hand reaching out to each and every atom of Hydrogen, and grasping as tightly as it takes to meld them again into Helium. The cycle that powers our solar system.
The cycle that powers our planet is much different. Our caldron of hell is called Politics, and it is ever raging with the pain and anger of billions of men and women. No more so at any point in history than today. This is the day we lost our natural resources. First oil went, then natural gas, then every synthetic supply we could turn to ethanol imaginable. Our crops, or food, or livestock... This planet is dead. We just don't know it yet.
It would take a phoenix to contain god's wrath. We did a good job of decimating this Earth in pursuits of energy all on our own. There were easier solutions, but the bureaus of energy refused to listen. They crushed every alternate source of energy for their brand of the future. Europe pushed wind and silicon solar. The US could turn CO-2 straight into Ethanol with nano carbon tubes tipped with catalytic metals. But god's wrath is NOT the sun... that's his gift. God's wrath is politics.
No one solution ever won. Humanity lost. A handful of scientists have gathered to try to contain the power of the sun. Fusion, our phoenix... God's greatest gift. With the flip of a switch the most powerful containment field ever created will come to life. With the flip of a switch, our planet may very well come back to life too.
Flip.
The magnetic containment fields of the past always failed at the temperatures Fusion created. This field was magnetic but also bent gravity. This is the first time mankind had mastered or altered singularities and you could tell right away. Where a colloidal containment field should have existed, there was nothing but spherical window. Humanity just tunneled to another dimension. The world leaders were all streaming the experiment and gasped.
The US President asked right away, "Is it another Earth? Are their natural resources in tact?"
The European Union members exploded in angst against the US. "This is your damn fault! You want their resources too?"
"The US was on the forefront of alternate energy technology! China, Russia, India all wasted resources and created pollution at rates we couldn't touch!" God's wrath was back. Politics and rhetoric.
Talking points and no compromises. This was truly the end of the world, and it had nothing to do with resources. An entire world of resources was instantly available along with countless other applications for this once in a millennia discovery. But one resource was never coming back.
Civility. | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | The portals were set up a month ago. Now, I would be leading a team of 60 men to this unknown dimension. It’s been over a year since fossil fuels ran out, If I came back successful I would be regarded as a hero.
“5 minutes till departure, sir.”
“Yes, yes, tell them to start if the portal.”
The Commander in Chief himself had given me an extensive list of possible resources to gather. The most preferable ones would be precious ores not present on our planet. As I looked at the bottom of this list I saw some quite disturbing things. I made a silent oath only to gather these if somehow the ores were not found.
I put on my specialty suit, gathered my team, and walked straight through that portal.
“Sir, I think we have a problem.”
“What is is.” I snapped at him, naturally annoyed.
“It seams as though we have not left Earth.”
My mind was racing, had we done all this preparation for nothing? Anger boiled up inside me and eventually I managed to stutter, “Of corse we made off Earth. Now, split up into you assigned groups and cover as much ground as possible.”
Hours past. The terrain looked awfully familiar and there were no ores to be found. I called everyone back to our central meeting place and told them the plan.
“Everyone look at number 26 on your list.”
“Humans!” One woman exclaimed, looking as though she was going to faint.
“No, no. Whales or whale type creatures and any living mammal over 120 pounds. That does include humans but also wildlife.”
“How can we be sure there even are creatures on this planet?”
“My group saw a town with some person north of her. They looked at lot like us, actually.”
“Great,” I replied, “Get 40 snipers to surround the town, 20 to load the bodies, I’ll get the truck.”
Most people muttered in agreement but then one man spoke out, “But, they’re people, just like us.”
I don’t know why I did what I did but somehow in the midst of my anger I had pulled out my firearm, and somehow my finger slipped. No one questioned me after that.
We headed out to the town and got in position, it was eerie how much they resembled us but I managed to push through any guilt still trapped inside me as I loaded that last of the butchered bodies. I still felt a little bad about leaving the kids all alone since they didn’t meet the weight requirements. They’re not even humans, so what did it matter.
We stayed there for weeks, shooting and killing and dragging and loading. After 2 and a half weeks I decided we had enough bodies to produce energy for about 3 years. We drove back to the portal site and drove the thousands of truck loads back.
“America welcomes you!” The president boomed over the speakers.
That night when I went home, I was eager to watch the news, eager to see my glorified face. But when I turned on the t.v, it was something quite different. The headline read “1.6 million Canadians Dead in American Assault.”
The newscaster spoke, “ Over the past weeks, towns in Canada have mysteriously been loosing their population aside from children. New security footage of one of these towns shows snipers in American uniforms going to work on their inhabitants. Canada has now declared war of the US because of there atrocities. We have reports bombs are being deployed over the US as we speak.”
“The...the.....port—“ I stuttered trying to wrap my mind around this
“We...n-n-never... left t—“
I heard the bomb but there was no time. I guess this is what I deserve. | Fusion is a phoenix of sorts. First comes death of Helium... the raw power of the sun unmaking itself with particle tearing fission. Yet, deep in that caldron of hell, pressure and temperatures reach unimaginable levels in a concoction of energy and gravity. The sun remakes itself. Fusion is god's hand reaching out to each and every atom of Hydrogen, and grasping as tightly as it takes to meld them again into Helium. The cycle that powers our solar system.
The cycle that powers our planet is much different. Our caldron of hell is called Politics, and it is ever raging with the pain and anger of billions of men and women. No more so at any point in history than today. This is the day we lost our natural resources. First oil went, then natural gas, then every synthetic supply we could turn to ethanol imaginable. Our crops, or food, or livestock... This planet is dead. We just don't know it yet.
It would take a phoenix to contain god's wrath. We did a good job of decimating this Earth in pursuits of energy all on our own. There were easier solutions, but the bureaus of energy refused to listen. They crushed every alternate source of energy for their brand of the future. Europe pushed wind and silicon solar. The US could turn CO-2 straight into Ethanol with nano carbon tubes tipped with catalytic metals. But god's wrath is NOT the sun... that's his gift. God's wrath is politics.
No one solution ever won. Humanity lost. A handful of scientists have gathered to try to contain the power of the sun. Fusion, our phoenix... God's greatest gift. With the flip of a switch the most powerful containment field ever created will come to life. With the flip of a switch, our planet may very well come back to life too.
Flip.
The magnetic containment fields of the past always failed at the temperatures Fusion created. This field was magnetic but also bent gravity. This is the first time mankind had mastered or altered singularities and you could tell right away. Where a colloidal containment field should have existed, there was nothing but spherical window. Humanity just tunneled to another dimension. The world leaders were all streaming the experiment and gasped.
The US President asked right away, "Is it another Earth? Are their natural resources in tact?"
The European Union members exploded in angst against the US. "This is your damn fault! You want their resources too?"
"The US was on the forefront of alternate energy technology! China, Russia, India all wasted resources and created pollution at rates we couldn't touch!" God's wrath was back. Politics and rhetoric.
Talking points and no compromises. This was truly the end of the world, and it had nothing to do with resources. An entire world of resources was instantly available along with countless other applications for this once in a millennia discovery. But one resource was never coming back.
Civility. | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | *Marvelous craftsmanship*, Tony thought as he ran his fingers over the contours of the wooden table he sat at. The body of it had been hand-carved, in a factory of course; but still, human hands had fashioned it. Tony marveled at its dark and sinuous lines snaking this way and that as time ticked away.
He looked at his watch to reveal that it was exactly fifteen minutes after his meeting was supposed to begin. Grinning in irritation he went back to staring at the desk. It had been made just a few miles from where he sat now in a factory on Lockhart street. While most of the structure had been milled out and put together in the most modern of ways, at least for them, the details had been hand carved.
It displayed the day forces of the United States first arrived on this planet, this alternate world. Etched into the wood stood the four green berets that had first slipped through the rainbow bridge and made a tensely peaceful first contact with the Avalonian Republic.
That had been nearly three years ago and in that time the two countries had built rather respectable relations. The reasons for which were easy to explain, both sides had something that the other wanted and neither could defeat the other in a pitched war.
On the side of the United States, they wanted access to the large untapped oil reservoirs on this planet. The Avalons, they wanted our technology. The Avalons were at a stage of technological advancement that was comparable to the European powers of the 1890s in the timeline inhabited by Tony and the United States. They had little use for the oil and more use for the medical technology offered by the United States.
The bridge could only allow for the transport of a limited number of objects however and could only be opened for roughly fifteen minutes a day. This made a conquest of this planet impossible and forced the United States to rely on local workers for their pumps. The Avalons were more than happy about this arrangement as it quickly made them the richest country in the world, with only one major rival, Donovia.
Donovia was a monarchy that lay mostly on the other side of a large ocean, with the exception of a small colony that shared a thirty-mile border in the south of Avalon. The two countries were bitter rivals with more than a couple of wars between them and now there was a new and powerful trading partner to compete over.
Tony sighed as he sat in the conference room of the Grandenhall building, the seat of power in Avalon. This room was specially reserved for him and his team, decorated to match the tastes of his country. It held an American flag next to the banner of the Avalonian Republic government. The countries of this planet did not have flags as one from America would think of them where a single large flag can represent an entire nation. No, the Avalons used mostly small banners to represent regions and families, with one government banner that held official value when flown.
The door suddenly opened and in walked Tony's counterpart, ambassador Phentrop Lucius. He walked in breathing slightly heavy and his face blush.
"Mister Grenn, I apologize for my tardiness," he said with a curt bow that Tony quickly returned, "I was made to brief the chancellor on the events of the last few days this morning and it ran long."
"Oh it is quite alright, Lucius," Tony grinned as he made his way to the table, "I know you would never keep me waiting for no reason."
Lucius sat down across from Tony, setting files he had been carrying down in front of him. He quickly donned a pair of spectacles and flipped through the small mountain of paperwork until he pulled out two reports.
"So these are the reports your embassy sent us about the attacks," he finally said.
"Yes, three pumps in two days," Tony replied calmly, "134 Avalonian workers killed, 200 wounded.
And more importantly," Tony leaned in, "4 dead Americans."
There was a moment of silence between the men as the words hung in the air.
"What am I supposed to do, Lucius?" Tony finally asked, his fingers began to rap on the table.
"Your government promised to secure our pumps when we agreed not to bring troops in to do it," Tony continued, "Now you have failed that and Americans are dead. Should I tell Washington to send troops?"
"No," Lucius said, "Troops will never be allowed on Avalonian soil and you know it. Now, the war committee has already authorized the deployment of ten thousand more soldiers to guard your pumps and the national police are investigating the bombings."
"I want access to all their reports," Tony interjected, "And immediate reporting, I won't be sitting around for months waiting for your guys to finish up the investigation."
"Done"
"And one more thing," Tony said, "I want my own guy on your investigation team and he will report to me."
Lucius grimaced, he didn't know how he would sell that to Commissioner Hathkelp but he would have to if he were to keep relations normal. He nodded briskly and Tony grinned.
"It is always a pleasure, Lucius," Tony said extending his hand which was quickly grasped by Lucius.
"Likewise friend." | Trump, aboard Air Farce, I mean *Force* One, reviews his recent speech with his advisors.
"You did good Mr. Trump, I think you really convinced the dumb fuck masses that we ran out of fossil fuel!", Said a thinly faced bald man, adjusting his corrective lenses, almost sounding surprised.
Trump puckered his lips, as if going to speak, but a second man, chimed in before he could spit a word out. "As if they needed any more convincing. They already still believe all the dinosaurs just had a mass exodus to the Middle East millions of years ago. You could tell those idiots anything! Look when we created Elon Musk, they actually believe this guy put a car in space!"
A third man finally leaned in. This man was smaller than the other two, but lacked the arrogant and seemingly 'by the numbers' attitude. "What about those *conspiracy theorists*? Won't they expose us? Surely, even the idiot masses we've fooled for thousands of millennia will wake up to this?"
The bald man reassured the timid creature, "Don't you worry. We have tarnished the conspiracy clown's name and word long ago! They won't believe a word those idiots say anymore!"
The timid one wasn't convinced. "People are already realizing that Trump is a buffoon, and every president before him was just a puppet of ours! It was a mistake to elect a fucking reality s-"
The second man interrupted, "We have to work with what we have. If all we have is a bumbling moron to work with, then we will make it work. Right, Donnie?"
The President of the United States nodded his head, knowing better than to speak out of turn.
"When we get back from Antarctica, we'll go to one of the Clinton's charities and pick up some of those expensive bottles of champagne that the charity pays for.", sighed the bald man, rubbing his eyes.
"Yeah we'll need it after visiting The Boss in a few hours. I wonder what they'll do for Solstice 2020.", Inquired the second man, looking at Trump.
"Who cares, so long as we all fit our end of the bargain, we can get the fuck out of this dimension. I'm weary of taking on human forms." | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | The rift in time and space shined around the edges in flares of yellow and orange, sometimes wavering, but ultimately stabilized by the blue pillars scaffolded around it.
"This is everything we've ever dreamed and more, sir," Dr. Harvey beamed. "We can keep it open for as long as we like, and close it at a moment's notice by simply turning the diodes off. The other side is as hospitable as our own world, more or less because it effectively is our own world... with notable exceptions."
The Secretary of Energy, Ms. Duster chimed in, "This version of Earth, parallel but not quite equal... it has a sufficiently similar history that we have already determined that there was a time when complex hydrocarbons formed, then spent some time under the surface and formed the oil we know how to use."
The President rubbed his chin thoughtfully, the magnitude of the news digesting slowly in his brain. "When you say sufficiently similar, you don't mean that they're... like us?"
Dr. Harvey continued, "Well, if you're concerned with ethics, I assure you we've already analyzed our approach for any room for concern, and it is certainly safe from criticism. As you recall, we're already within a limited breach of ethics in this search for the rift, and the execution of building a hole into another Earth, but that was approved. As for the rest..."
"The rest is what I mean. They had these complex hydrocarbs, but there's no current intelligent life? No humans? Nothing to give the bleeding hearts something to whine about?"
"Well, sir, yes and no..." Dr. Harvey's face turned uncomfortable.
Secretary Duster interrupted. "More no than yes, sir. What the doctor means is, there's definitely something human-like there. They resemble us from a physical standpoint, and they do have some rudimentary societal structure that we can definitely point to as existing and even being moderately similar, but... What is intelligent life, exactly? Not these things."
"So they're human, but not human?" the President inquired.
"We wouldn't consider them human, based on their obvious lack of intellect," clarified Secretary Duster.
"How do you measure 'obvious', Ms. Duster? Dr. Harvey?"
Dr. Harvey cleared his throat before speaking. "Well sir, they voted Donald Trump in as their President." | Trump, aboard Air Farce, I mean *Force* One, reviews his recent speech with his advisors.
"You did good Mr. Trump, I think you really convinced the dumb fuck masses that we ran out of fossil fuel!", Said a thinly faced bald man, adjusting his corrective lenses, almost sounding surprised.
Trump puckered his lips, as if going to speak, but a second man, chimed in before he could spit a word out. "As if they needed any more convincing. They already still believe all the dinosaurs just had a mass exodus to the Middle East millions of years ago. You could tell those idiots anything! Look when we created Elon Musk, they actually believe this guy put a car in space!"
A third man finally leaned in. This man was smaller than the other two, but lacked the arrogant and seemingly 'by the numbers' attitude. "What about those *conspiracy theorists*? Won't they expose us? Surely, even the idiot masses we've fooled for thousands of millennia will wake up to this?"
The bald man reassured the timid creature, "Don't you worry. We have tarnished the conspiracy clown's name and word long ago! They won't believe a word those idiots say anymore!"
The timid one wasn't convinced. "People are already realizing that Trump is a buffoon, and every president before him was just a puppet of ours! It was a mistake to elect a fucking reality s-"
The second man interrupted, "We have to work with what we have. If all we have is a bumbling moron to work with, then we will make it work. Right, Donnie?"
The President of the United States nodded his head, knowing better than to speak out of turn.
"When we get back from Antarctica, we'll go to one of the Clinton's charities and pick up some of those expensive bottles of champagne that the charity pays for.", sighed the bald man, rubbing his eyes.
"Yeah we'll need it after visiting The Boss in a few hours. I wonder what they'll do for Solstice 2020.", Inquired the second man, looking at Trump.
"Who cares, so long as we all fit our end of the bargain, we can get the fuck out of this dimension. I'm weary of taking on human forms." | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | It should have figured that, rather than do the sensible thing, we as a country would decide on the hard road.
2035 will forever be remembered as the year the fossil fuels ran out. Most of the world's greatest minds pretended the years and years of warnings and predictions never existed. Man's memory, after all, is notoriously short.
For whatever reason, most of the mind hive also concluded that there were no alternatives, something the rural communities and conspiracy communes, who had long forseen this day, disbelievingly shook their heads at. Of course, most knew the real reason no one pursued clean and renewable energy. There was no money in it. Most anyone with a little time and willingness to learn could setup a system big enough to power a home or, with the right help, a community. After all, there were enough communities around to prove it. How the hell were corporations supposed to keep up with that?
So, the hive mind decided on the slightly impossible. I say slightly because a version of it had already been in existence. They just hadn't figured out how to use it to their advantage.
The answer: alternate dimensions.
Will continue later.
EDIT: PART 2 ADDED
Alternate dimensions were something of a fickle art in the science community. No real 'right' way to get one active, and no real way to keep it stable. This, of course, caused plenty of issues. Some of which spilled out into the general populace at times. At one point, a contagion made it's way through a small City before being contained via a radiation 'accident'. Another time, nightmares and hallucinations plagued the citizens of a town for months because of sound waves that were radiating up from an underground lab, waves that weren't being detected by the equipment due to some strange interference clashing with technology. By the time the wormhole collapsed, the entire town had slaughtered itself.
But I digress.
When the decision was made to search for fossil fuels elsewhere, the US was in dire straits. Outages were constant and rarely fixed. Rations gave way to riots and looting. The economy collapsed, and then society itself. We declined to a bad state, and received aid from few due to our history of alienation. Left to fend for ourselves it's no wonder this was the path taken. The hive mind became the Science Circle and they pitched the idea when we were at our lowest. So of course the population said yes. Nevermind the alternatives.
The Science Circle Corp, or SCC, pursued this avenue full speed ahead. It's amazing what can be accomplished when curiosity trumps safety. Especially the safety of the majority. Science prevailed, sometimes, and when it failed the SCC turned to the occult. That was its own problem, naturally. When respect due isn't given it almost always ends badly. Hundreds, then thousands, then tens of thousands died as these mistakes piled up. Mistakes like portals that led to dimensions no one should be dabbling in. Monsters and demons ran rampant in areas of high concentration and too often a high price was paid before the portals could be reversed. Running before learning to walk. It is the human ego that leads to problems like these. Arrogance.
Finally, as it usually does, things stabilized. A working means of dimension travel became possible, after many lessons learned. Finally, after much pain and disaster, the plans could come to fruition.
But the world had changed.
It was no longer in need of fossil fuels. All of the spillover from both science and the occult practices, not to mention the effects of the various portals and wormholes, radiation and human resilience had brought something new to the world. Something that had once only existed in the imaginations of children and the children-at-heart.
MAGIC. | Trump, aboard Air Farce, I mean *Force* One, reviews his recent speech with his advisors.
"You did good Mr. Trump, I think you really convinced the dumb fuck masses that we ran out of fossil fuel!", Said a thinly faced bald man, adjusting his corrective lenses, almost sounding surprised.
Trump puckered his lips, as if going to speak, but a second man, chimed in before he could spit a word out. "As if they needed any more convincing. They already still believe all the dinosaurs just had a mass exodus to the Middle East millions of years ago. You could tell those idiots anything! Look when we created Elon Musk, they actually believe this guy put a car in space!"
A third man finally leaned in. This man was smaller than the other two, but lacked the arrogant and seemingly 'by the numbers' attitude. "What about those *conspiracy theorists*? Won't they expose us? Surely, even the idiot masses we've fooled for thousands of millennia will wake up to this?"
The bald man reassured the timid creature, "Don't you worry. We have tarnished the conspiracy clown's name and word long ago! They won't believe a word those idiots say anymore!"
The timid one wasn't convinced. "People are already realizing that Trump is a buffoon, and every president before him was just a puppet of ours! It was a mistake to elect a fucking reality s-"
The second man interrupted, "We have to work with what we have. If all we have is a bumbling moron to work with, then we will make it work. Right, Donnie?"
The President of the United States nodded his head, knowing better than to speak out of turn.
"When we get back from Antarctica, we'll go to one of the Clinton's charities and pick up some of those expensive bottles of champagne that the charity pays for.", sighed the bald man, rubbing his eyes.
"Yeah we'll need it after visiting The Boss in a few hours. I wonder what they'll do for Solstice 2020.", Inquired the second man, looking at Trump.
"Who cares, so long as we all fit our end of the bargain, we can get the fuck out of this dimension. I'm weary of taking on human forms." | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | To preface this I've never written any sort of story before so please be kind lol.
He flipped a switch on the intimidatingly large machine. “Please.” he said softly to himself, hoping.
The humming of computer fans starting up simultaneously filled the room.
Lights began to flash on and off forcefully, as if they were trying to break out of their own bulbs.
The LCD screen to his right flickered on quickly.
“ALL SYSTEMS ONLINE…
INITIATING STARTUP SCRIPT...” it read.
His breath quickened and his heart was beating loudly in his ears.
A Tesla coil shot bolts of electricity back and forth between two metal poles.
Soon the bolts were moving so fast that they looked as though they were an impenetrable wall between two worlds.
His eyes widened. “It’s going to work!” He exclaimed, elated.
Suddenly the machine cut off. All of the lights, sounds, and bolts of electricity vanished at once.
All of his previous excitement drained from his face.
He sighed with a look of utter disappointment as he looked over to the display.
“ERROR: UNSAFE TEMPERATURES
STARTING FAIL-SAFE MECHANISM…
ALL PROCESSES SUCCESSFULLY ENDED”
He feared what would happen next.
​
“Dr. Shen!” The general yelled harshly. “What progress have you made?”
“Sir, not to be rude but how can you possibly expect me to know how close I am?” Dr. Shen said, as he continued to tinker with the machine.
“That’s fair, but you know how time sensitive this project is.” The general retorted. He continued, “We have five days before our oil reserves are all emptied. The public knows it’s bad, but certainly not this bad.”
“But sir,” Dr. Shen started, “why can’t we just follow the other countries and switch to renewable resources?”
“Son, how much money do you think the car companies will lose if they have to switch to electric?” He paused. “What about gas ovens? Huh? What will happen to our economy?”
Dr. Shen tried to form a response to this but he couldn’t seem to fully comprehend the stupidity of what he had just heard.
He was silent for a moment.
“General. Are you telling me that you are forcing me to build you a *portal* to *another dimension* so that your Honda stocks don’t go down?”
He replied softly, “Ford.” | Trump, aboard Air Farce, I mean *Force* One, reviews his recent speech with his advisors.
"You did good Mr. Trump, I think you really convinced the dumb fuck masses that we ran out of fossil fuel!", Said a thinly faced bald man, adjusting his corrective lenses, almost sounding surprised.
Trump puckered his lips, as if going to speak, but a second man, chimed in before he could spit a word out. "As if they needed any more convincing. They already still believe all the dinosaurs just had a mass exodus to the Middle East millions of years ago. You could tell those idiots anything! Look when we created Elon Musk, they actually believe this guy put a car in space!"
A third man finally leaned in. This man was smaller than the other two, but lacked the arrogant and seemingly 'by the numbers' attitude. "What about those *conspiracy theorists*? Won't they expose us? Surely, even the idiot masses we've fooled for thousands of millennia will wake up to this?"
The bald man reassured the timid creature, "Don't you worry. We have tarnished the conspiracy clown's name and word long ago! They won't believe a word those idiots say anymore!"
The timid one wasn't convinced. "People are already realizing that Trump is a buffoon, and every president before him was just a puppet of ours! It was a mistake to elect a fucking reality s-"
The second man interrupted, "We have to work with what we have. If all we have is a bumbling moron to work with, then we will make it work. Right, Donnie?"
The President of the United States nodded his head, knowing better than to speak out of turn.
"When we get back from Antarctica, we'll go to one of the Clinton's charities and pick up some of those expensive bottles of champagne that the charity pays for.", sighed the bald man, rubbing his eyes.
"Yeah we'll need it after visiting The Boss in a few hours. I wonder what they'll do for Solstice 2020.", Inquired the second man, looking at Trump.
"Who cares, so long as we all fit our end of the bargain, we can get the fuck out of this dimension. I'm weary of taking on human forms." | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | We were fools.
In our desires to preserve our technological age we broke through the fabric of reality in order to reach through and steal from dimensions that were not our own. Punching these holes came with consequences of course, but none of us could have guessed that something would grip the hand we had reached through and pull us in.
"Evans, status report." The jury rigged emergency radio they had found crackled to life in the pocket of the dimension miner. Rick Evans sighed and picked the squawker out with his free hand, clicking down the makeshift PTT and replying. "Evans. Status: clear. Uptake: Negative. And how long are we gonna have to use the damn military radio crap? I can tell you how I'm doing without sounding like a fucking robot." The silence at the other end was his answer to that question. He growled at the quiet radio and jammed it back in his pocket before flipping the switch on his gun and shooting a different section of the rock face they'd set apart for reality blasting. The standard issue Reality Diffusion Device Mk 2.7 hummed in Evan's hands as photons were violently sped up in a prismatic angular accelerator before being fired at nearly double the speed of light. The impact of these photons created minuscule controlled singularities dense enough to poke holes in reality without ruining their nearly dead Earth any more than it was. 'Course Evans just called it 'Hole-Puncher' and he didn't really care about the science as long as he got paid and didn't catch cancer. It didn't bother him either that it was energized by the last reserve energy source on the whole planet.
About an hour into blasting the rock and checking the little solar powered sonar for pings, Evans decided it was time for a well deserved break. He sat back with the Hole Puncher in his left hand and cracked a warm beer with his right, giving the can a little kiss. "Liquid bread's so much better than bread...bread." He muttered under his breath to himself, knowing full well that it was stupid but less of a fuck he could not give. He took a sip and pulled the trigger again to send another burst of photons out at the rock, checking the sonar every couple of minutes as he lounged. Now, the sonar was set to detect the faint carbon ion radiation that would indicate the presence of a fossil fuel leaking through the tiny holes. Anything else would be an unnecessary waste of power. Which is the reason why miner Rick Evans was caught completely unawares as one of the holes was ripped open from the other side, and reality shit itself.
Infinite dimensions and infinite realities means that the smallest fraction of a percentage of a chance are guaranteed to happen. In this instance two dimensions suffering the same plight fired on opposing sides of a rock grounded in the same place in reality. They punched holes between their realities in the exact opposite spot of the other and made the singularity warping reality just a little too big for its britches. Instead of winking out, unable to support itself, the singularity had barely enough mass and energy to explode into a full blown black hole spanning between two dimensions. The fabric of reality on each side imploded against the other, and both were completely and utterly erased. Leaving nothing. | Trump, aboard Air Farce, I mean *Force* One, reviews his recent speech with his advisors.
"You did good Mr. Trump, I think you really convinced the dumb fuck masses that we ran out of fossil fuel!", Said a thinly faced bald man, adjusting his corrective lenses, almost sounding surprised.
Trump puckered his lips, as if going to speak, but a second man, chimed in before he could spit a word out. "As if they needed any more convincing. They already still believe all the dinosaurs just had a mass exodus to the Middle East millions of years ago. You could tell those idiots anything! Look when we created Elon Musk, they actually believe this guy put a car in space!"
A third man finally leaned in. This man was smaller than the other two, but lacked the arrogant and seemingly 'by the numbers' attitude. "What about those *conspiracy theorists*? Won't they expose us? Surely, even the idiot masses we've fooled for thousands of millennia will wake up to this?"
The bald man reassured the timid creature, "Don't you worry. We have tarnished the conspiracy clown's name and word long ago! They won't believe a word those idiots say anymore!"
The timid one wasn't convinced. "People are already realizing that Trump is a buffoon, and every president before him was just a puppet of ours! It was a mistake to elect a fucking reality s-"
The second man interrupted, "We have to work with what we have. If all we have is a bumbling moron to work with, then we will make it work. Right, Donnie?"
The President of the United States nodded his head, knowing better than to speak out of turn.
"When we get back from Antarctica, we'll go to one of the Clinton's charities and pick up some of those expensive bottles of champagne that the charity pays for.", sighed the bald man, rubbing his eyes.
"Yeah we'll need it after visiting The Boss in a few hours. I wonder what they'll do for Solstice 2020.", Inquired the second man, looking at Trump.
"Who cares, so long as we all fit our end of the bargain, we can get the fuck out of this dimension. I'm weary of taking on human forms." | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | There was a ear splitting snap and crackle of energy that caused some of the scientists and guests in attendance to yell out in alarm.
"It's open, Earth 4!" the lead technician adjusted some dials to help solidify the edges of the portal. "We don't want anyone sucked in through the edge to any number of alternate dimensions and possibilities never to return."
The general standing behind him paled slightly. He wanted to be the one going up the ramp to look around after the robot probe had sounded the all clear. It reminded him that his risk taking days as a soldier were long behind him. He was a leader. Generals lead from the rear these days.
"Send the first RoboProbe across", the general ordered. He watched the small roving robot cross the threshold across to, Earth, just another Earth. This probe had a cable attached to it providing tethered video feeds in several spectrums including visible light, and various non-visible spectrums. While this was another Earth, hopefully, it would have oil and natural gas deposits that we could mine, or have the people of that version of Earth mine for us. We had used up all of the available stores of fossil fuels.
It was impossible to consider this was our current situation, but in 2114, we realized we were finding more and more of our seemingly endless supplies drying up. The hardest hit was for the Middle East, where they truly believed they would have oil "forever". Oil prices rose, there were riots, the royal families of the region were overthrown, country by country until anarchy ruled the region. With no oil as a promised payoff to keep the peace, the United States decided to, "Sit this one out". It was a bloodbath. The giant playgrounds of the ultra wealthy suddenly devolved into chaos. The EU initially tried to help, but it was no use. Desperate people will do what they must to survive. Once there were no "jobs" they all made an exodus of the area. Why live where you can't grow crops? Why live where there are no jobs. The best help the EU provided was to provide transport for those workers back to their home countries.
Then, the Artic and Antartic both began to dry up. These were places that we were told would have HUNDREDS of years of oil reserves, but that was simply not true. The vast Shale Oil "reserves" quit producing, coal miners discovered the end of all of the veins of coal under the Appalachian mountains. We started forcing major changes in recycling. No more single use plastics. We cleaned ALL of the plastics from the giant floating island of plastic in the Pacific ocean and thanks to the research of a young Japanese man, we were able to reclaim plastic bottles to fuel and lubricating oils. There was talk of how we were going to have to find "something else", but it always seemed that the "Big Oil" Companies found reasons that the "something else" wouldn't work, and boy did they push that agenda with their marketing machines. Finally, we ended up where we are today.
Through the science of extreme magnetism and nuclear power we discovered the way to tear a hole in the fabric of space time. We could, and WOULD get our oil from an alternate Earth. We had opened several holes to other dimensional Earths. We would look through. The first 3 such rifts we opened looked upon what seemed like vastly more technologically superior worlds. We quickly closed those rifts. We could not allow ourselves to be seen as weak. Finally on the 4th attempt, we found a forest that looked like no people had been there for years. Here is where we would send our probe to check things out.
"It looks like we are receiving signal from the probe through the wired connection via the gate just fine. Look at those trees!" The trees were magnificent. Pines growing straight up with trunks that were easily 4 feet across. there were ferns low in the forest that the probe snipped a leaf and sealed it in a container for study once it came back. After reaching a distance of 100 yards from the gate, the probe started scanning in all directions. Plant life in all directions as far as it could scan. There were animals, heat signatures of small and not so small woodland creatures as well. Nothing came up to the probe, and nothing was within visible camera range. The biologists on the project were disappointed. They hoped to see some new discovery. The temperature was warmer than they expected for this type of forest. It was 31 degrees celsius and for night time, that was warm.
No one was shocked more than Simmons, the scientist running the gate when a hole appeared in space between him and the general. "What are you doing?" a voice asked. He turned to his right, thinking it was perhaps the general who had spoken to him, to see a very pale face staring at him from a hole in reality.
"Crap! Who are you???" he yelled out. Everyone in the room turned to look at him. Those on his left saw the face as well. Those to the right saw nothing but his shocked expression and those behind him.
"You had your chance. To be honest, when you cleaned the oceans and learned how to really recycle all the plastic back into oil, we thought you were going to figure out that solar, wind, tidal and other free and renewable energy sources would provide you what you needed for your growth. We were most amazed that you discovered the gate system and alternate Earths without help." The gate widened and the 'person' came through. The portal shrunk once they were through.
"You were discovered opening portals when you opened to Earth 3207, that was our capital city you discovered. We waited for you to send a probe across, but we heard you discussing not wanting to be conquered by a technologically superior version of the planet, and you closed that portal and tucked your tails between your legs. So now, you've opened a portal to a very innocent version of our planet. One that is, however under OUR protection. Did you even think of how much energy it would take to bring OIL from there to here? Did you think about the wildlife there?"
"Now look here, whoever you are!" the general barked. "We have the right to explore and protect ourselves, it's our right as AMERICANS!"
The figure blinked as she stared at the general. "Wow, I had forgotten this had existed, see, we wiped out this type of thinking long ago.", she walked up to the general. He was at least a head taller than her. He puffed himself up and stared at the visitor, contempt in his eyes.
"How do you think you will stop us?"
It was at this point, the video feed from the RoboProbe went dark. Nobody really noticed that, or how the line, once taut, went slack. They also didn't notice the 'people' crossing over from the other gate. They had skin that was bluish black and covered in a light fur. The two individuals also wore clothes that would have seemed very fancy in the 1800s. Suits to be precise. They moved silently toward the back of the crowd staring at the visitor from Earth 3207 and each one picked a person to stand behind. Nobody noticed them, except our other visitor, but she did not acknowledge them.
"Well, actually, I won't be the one to stop you. It will be the citizens of that Earth. You see, they evolved a little differently from our Earths." She pointed to the back of the crowd. A Gasp rose, There were 30 bodies strewn across the concrete floor. The technician, the general, and a couple of other workers who were close to the visitor were the only ones left alive. The others had been slaughtered like sheep or cattle. necks and torsos slit or split open. This had been accomplished in a matter of seconds and without a sound made. More of the furry people made their way into the portal...
"Shut it down! Simmons, Shut! IT! DOWN!!!" , the General screamed. But Simmons was transfixed on the gaze of a particular looking female who had came through the portal. Was he hypnotized, under a psionic compulsion, or what, he didn't know. What he did know is that he had a new role on Earth, and she would provide rules he would play under.
Realizing that the invasion had begun, the Visitor snapped her fingers and her portal opened and slid over her body. There was no way she wanted them to gain access to her world, and this world was lost now. Knowing that Simmons could open the portal to her world again, she reached into her pants and pulled out a dagger that she plunged into his neck.
The Drow invasion has consumed another planet and there's no way to save these people. She saw more and more coming through the portal to this Earth. As her portal closed, she saw one of the dark beings run for it, trying to get through. Worse than that, she saw the victims stirring. They would be the start of their zombie army. At least Earth 3207 was safe for now. | Trump, aboard Air Farce, I mean *Force* One, reviews his recent speech with his advisors.
"You did good Mr. Trump, I think you really convinced the dumb fuck masses that we ran out of fossil fuel!", Said a thinly faced bald man, adjusting his corrective lenses, almost sounding surprised.
Trump puckered his lips, as if going to speak, but a second man, chimed in before he could spit a word out. "As if they needed any more convincing. They already still believe all the dinosaurs just had a mass exodus to the Middle East millions of years ago. You could tell those idiots anything! Look when we created Elon Musk, they actually believe this guy put a car in space!"
A third man finally leaned in. This man was smaller than the other two, but lacked the arrogant and seemingly 'by the numbers' attitude. "What about those *conspiracy theorists*? Won't they expose us? Surely, even the idiot masses we've fooled for thousands of millennia will wake up to this?"
The bald man reassured the timid creature, "Don't you worry. We have tarnished the conspiracy clown's name and word long ago! They won't believe a word those idiots say anymore!"
The timid one wasn't convinced. "People are already realizing that Trump is a buffoon, and every president before him was just a puppet of ours! It was a mistake to elect a fucking reality s-"
The second man interrupted, "We have to work with what we have. If all we have is a bumbling moron to work with, then we will make it work. Right, Donnie?"
The President of the United States nodded his head, knowing better than to speak out of turn.
"When we get back from Antarctica, we'll go to one of the Clinton's charities and pick up some of those expensive bottles of champagne that the charity pays for.", sighed the bald man, rubbing his eyes.
"Yeah we'll need it after visiting The Boss in a few hours. I wonder what they'll do for Solstice 2020.", Inquired the second man, looking at Trump.
"Who cares, so long as we all fit our end of the bargain, we can get the fuck out of this dimension. I'm weary of taking on human forms." | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | Eugene stood from his seat as a group of men entered the room. He fidgeted with nervous energy in his best black tuxedo. It was complete with a bow tie and matching silver cumberbund stretched out around his round belly. He looked down at Wallace and slapped his shoulder to get him standing too. His stocky, grey-haired friend waved Eugene's hand away and smiled.
"He's the president, not a judge," Wallace said, then turned to the president. The distinguished, lean man with a silver beard smiled at the men as he sat behind his desk. His entourage of guards took up positions around the room.
"Thank you for coming, Mr. Carter," he said. The president looked up at Eugene and chuckled. "You can sit down," and the portly man did. The president glanced over at Wallace. "And you brought your... assistant?" he asked. Eugene nodded but cringed internally. As much as he hated taking credit for Wallace's work it was almost unbearable to do it in front of him. The only way he managed was at Wallace's insistence. Wallace was brilliant but he was not interested in the kind of attention Eugene received with his stolen credit. The pair had been friends since grade school and Wallace trusted Eugene to give him a fair share of any financial gain. Eugene never disappointed him.
"I understand you've made contact with an alternate universe," the president said directly. Eugene nodded and hoped there wouldn't be any follow up questions about that particular incident. He did not think it would reflect well on him if he explained that Wallace did it. [The 'why'](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/bhame1/wp_you_have_invented_a_universeworld_changing/) could only work against their credibility.
"Can you do it again?" the president asked. Eugene started to nod but Wallace spoke up before he completed the motion.
"Why?" Wallace asked. Eugene was grateful for the interruption. He was about to divulge that it had been done many times since then, almost every week for months now. The pair of friends had a regular pizza dinner most Friday nights. They'd learned a lot about the Earths outside their own. And about the dangers of the multiverse.
"To establish diplomatic ties and begin trade," he said simply. Wallace turned and shook his head at Eugene.
"I'm sorry Mr. President, we don't know how to duplicate it. We've been trying for a while now, maybe if we had a better lab with more funding." Eugene angled for an upgrade and hoped he'd get more time to find out why Wallace said no. The president shook his head.
"I'm afraid we don't have the time to wait for you to fail. Thank you, Gentlemen. Don't worry about it too much, we have a backup plan." The president pressed a button his desk. "Send in Ms. Sharp," he said.
"NO!" Wallace bolted to his feet fast enough to make the guards reach for their guns; they stopped before drawing once Wallace put his hands up. "We'll help, we'll help!" he spoke as if someone was twisting his arm. "Don't trust her."
"You know her? How soon can you help?" The president asked. He gestured at the door and one of the guards stopped it as it opened. The suited guard peeked through the door.
"Sorry, one second, Ms. Sharp," he said.
"Today!" Wallace said. "I'll get you a list of reasonable Earths that might be open to trade," he glanced at his wristwatch. "Four hours," he shook his head. "I don't know what she's told you. She's from another Earth and she runs a company across several universes. She's powerful, dangerous, and can't be trusted."
"She's also in the room," a woman's voice said. All heads turned to the voice. It came from a lean, pale, dark-haired woman in a white suit. A shorter, rounder woman in a dark suit stood next to her. The shorter woman held the guard down on his knees with his hands behind his head. Bright blue light glowed under her right hand as it pressed the guard's hands against his skull. The remaining guards in the room raised their guns but a black cat padded into the room between the two women. It stopped in front of them and Eugene noticed it had a red skull pattern in the fur atop its head.
"I'm not here to make trouble, but I have a schedule to keep. Running a multi-verse company doesn't leave me a lot of free time," she looked at the president. "I was here on time for our appointment. I waited patiently until you called me in. Asking me to wait again after that is extremely rude. If you don't need my services, let me know now and I'll be on my way. If you want to make a deal I have enough time left to talk about it." Wallace glanced around at the guards. Four guns were drawn and aimed at the women but something seemed off. He looked to Eugene but his friend seemed to be petrified with fear. The man in the tuxedo stared at the women and Wallace thought that seemed odd. Wallace expected the man's head to be darting back and forth trying to process the situation.
While Ms. Sharp explained her actions to the president, Wallace stared at Eugene and realized he wasn't breathing. He made a surprised, worried sound and the dark-suited woman turned to look at him. Wallace realized the woman wasn't holding the guard down anymore, but he remained on his knees still holding his hands in place. The guard was as still as Eugene. He saw golden stars flash in her eyes then Ms. Sharp turned her attention to him.
"I don't think we can do business," the president said and gestured at the kneeling guard. "Not when you treat my-"
"Janet," Ms. Sharp said. The president's voice did not return after the interruption. Wallace looked and saw the president sitting perfectly still with his mouth open mid-word. Ms. Sharp smiled at Wallace.
"What should I do with you?" she asked herself. "What do you think, Melody?" she asked again after a moment of deliberation.
"He's slumbering and we don't need another Sun right now. Wake him up, it might be fun to see how this one develops."
"Janet?" Ms. Sharp asked.
"A class. Not worth saving for anything." Wallace was surprised when he heard a soft, pleasant, feminine voice come from the cat. Ms. Sharp nodded.
"Very well," she gave him a dismissive wave then turned to leave the room. "Your favorite number is 46," Ms. Sharp called out over her shoulder. "You should get that on a tattoo." Melody and Janet the cat followed her out of the room and the door close. Then several things happened at once.
"people with such disrespect," The president finished his sentence at the same time four gunshots rang out. Four bullets hit the same area on the door where Ms. Sharp had been standing moments ago. Eugene's head twisted left and right rapidly.
"Where'd she go?" he asked.
The guard that was being held on his knees flew forward as if he had been pushed down before Janet stopped time.
\*\*\*
Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is year two, story #247. You can find all my stories collected on my subreddit ([r/hugoverse](https://www.reddit.com/r/hugoverse)) or my [blog](https://hugoverse.info/). If you're curious about my universe (the Hugoverse) you can visit the [Guidebook](https://hugoverse.info/2017/11/25/hugoverse-guidebook/) to see what's what and who's who, or the [Timeline](https://hugoverse.info/2017/10/23/hugoverse-timeline/) to find the stories in order.
\*\*\*
edit: added a link to the why. | Trump, aboard Air Farce, I mean *Force* One, reviews his recent speech with his advisors.
"You did good Mr. Trump, I think you really convinced the dumb fuck masses that we ran out of fossil fuel!", Said a thinly faced bald man, adjusting his corrective lenses, almost sounding surprised.
Trump puckered his lips, as if going to speak, but a second man, chimed in before he could spit a word out. "As if they needed any more convincing. They already still believe all the dinosaurs just had a mass exodus to the Middle East millions of years ago. You could tell those idiots anything! Look when we created Elon Musk, they actually believe this guy put a car in space!"
A third man finally leaned in. This man was smaller than the other two, but lacked the arrogant and seemingly 'by the numbers' attitude. "What about those *conspiracy theorists*? Won't they expose us? Surely, even the idiot masses we've fooled for thousands of millennia will wake up to this?"
The bald man reassured the timid creature, "Don't you worry. We have tarnished the conspiracy clown's name and word long ago! They won't believe a word those idiots say anymore!"
The timid one wasn't convinced. "People are already realizing that Trump is a buffoon, and every president before him was just a puppet of ours! It was a mistake to elect a fucking reality s-"
The second man interrupted, "We have to work with what we have. If all we have is a bumbling moron to work with, then we will make it work. Right, Donnie?"
The President of the United States nodded his head, knowing better than to speak out of turn.
"When we get back from Antarctica, we'll go to one of the Clinton's charities and pick up some of those expensive bottles of champagne that the charity pays for.", sighed the bald man, rubbing his eyes.
"Yeah we'll need it after visiting The Boss in a few hours. I wonder what they'll do for Solstice 2020.", Inquired the second man, looking at Trump.
"Who cares, so long as we all fit our end of the bargain, we can get the fuck out of this dimension. I'm weary of taking on human forms." | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | To preface this I've never written any sort of story before so please be kind lol.
He flipped a switch on the intimidatingly large machine. “Please.” he said softly to himself, hoping.
The humming of computer fans starting up simultaneously filled the room.
Lights began to flash on and off forcefully, as if they were trying to break out of their own bulbs.
The LCD screen to his right flickered on quickly.
“ALL SYSTEMS ONLINE…
INITIATING STARTUP SCRIPT...” it read.
His breath quickened and his heart was beating loudly in his ears.
A Tesla coil shot bolts of electricity back and forth between two metal poles.
Soon the bolts were moving so fast that they looked as though they were an impenetrable wall between two worlds.
His eyes widened. “It’s going to work!” He exclaimed, elated.
Suddenly the machine cut off. All of the lights, sounds, and bolts of electricity vanished at once.
All of his previous excitement drained from his face.
He sighed with a look of utter disappointment as he looked over to the display.
“ERROR: UNSAFE TEMPERATURES
STARTING FAIL-SAFE MECHANISM…
ALL PROCESSES SUCCESSFULLY ENDED”
He feared what would happen next.
​
“Dr. Shen!” The general yelled harshly. “What progress have you made?”
“Sir, not to be rude but how can you possibly expect me to know how close I am?” Dr. Shen said, as he continued to tinker with the machine.
“That’s fair, but you know how time sensitive this project is.” The general retorted. He continued, “We have five days before our oil reserves are all emptied. The public knows it’s bad, but certainly not this bad.”
“But sir,” Dr. Shen started, “why can’t we just follow the other countries and switch to renewable resources?”
“Son, how much money do you think the car companies will lose if they have to switch to electric?” He paused. “What about gas ovens? Huh? What will happen to our economy?”
Dr. Shen tried to form a response to this but he couldn’t seem to fully comprehend the stupidity of what he had just heard.
He was silent for a moment.
“General. Are you telling me that you are forcing me to build you a *portal* to *another dimension* so that your Honda stocks don’t go down?”
He replied softly, “Ford.” | *Marvelous craftsmanship*, Tony thought as he ran his fingers over the contours of the wooden table he sat at. The body of it had been hand-carved, in a factory of course; but still, human hands had fashioned it. Tony marveled at its dark and sinuous lines snaking this way and that as time ticked away.
He looked at his watch to reveal that it was exactly fifteen minutes after his meeting was supposed to begin. Grinning in irritation he went back to staring at the desk. It had been made just a few miles from where he sat now in a factory on Lockhart street. While most of the structure had been milled out and put together in the most modern of ways, at least for them, the details had been hand carved.
It displayed the day forces of the United States first arrived on this planet, this alternate world. Etched into the wood stood the four green berets that had first slipped through the rainbow bridge and made a tensely peaceful first contact with the Avalonian Republic.
That had been nearly three years ago and in that time the two countries had built rather respectable relations. The reasons for which were easy to explain, both sides had something that the other wanted and neither could defeat the other in a pitched war.
On the side of the United States, they wanted access to the large untapped oil reservoirs on this planet. The Avalons, they wanted our technology. The Avalons were at a stage of technological advancement that was comparable to the European powers of the 1890s in the timeline inhabited by Tony and the United States. They had little use for the oil and more use for the medical technology offered by the United States.
The bridge could only allow for the transport of a limited number of objects however and could only be opened for roughly fifteen minutes a day. This made a conquest of this planet impossible and forced the United States to rely on local workers for their pumps. The Avalons were more than happy about this arrangement as it quickly made them the richest country in the world, with only one major rival, Donovia.
Donovia was a monarchy that lay mostly on the other side of a large ocean, with the exception of a small colony that shared a thirty-mile border in the south of Avalon. The two countries were bitter rivals with more than a couple of wars between them and now there was a new and powerful trading partner to compete over.
Tony sighed as he sat in the conference room of the Grandenhall building, the seat of power in Avalon. This room was specially reserved for him and his team, decorated to match the tastes of his country. It held an American flag next to the banner of the Avalonian Republic government. The countries of this planet did not have flags as one from America would think of them where a single large flag can represent an entire nation. No, the Avalons used mostly small banners to represent regions and families, with one government banner that held official value when flown.
The door suddenly opened and in walked Tony's counterpart, ambassador Phentrop Lucius. He walked in breathing slightly heavy and his face blush.
"Mister Grenn, I apologize for my tardiness," he said with a curt bow that Tony quickly returned, "I was made to brief the chancellor on the events of the last few days this morning and it ran long."
"Oh it is quite alright, Lucius," Tony grinned as he made his way to the table, "I know you would never keep me waiting for no reason."
Lucius sat down across from Tony, setting files he had been carrying down in front of him. He quickly donned a pair of spectacles and flipped through the small mountain of paperwork until he pulled out two reports.
"So these are the reports your embassy sent us about the attacks," he finally said.
"Yes, three pumps in two days," Tony replied calmly, "134 Avalonian workers killed, 200 wounded.
And more importantly," Tony leaned in, "4 dead Americans."
There was a moment of silence between the men as the words hung in the air.
"What am I supposed to do, Lucius?" Tony finally asked, his fingers began to rap on the table.
"Your government promised to secure our pumps when we agreed not to bring troops in to do it," Tony continued, "Now you have failed that and Americans are dead. Should I tell Washington to send troops?"
"No," Lucius said, "Troops will never be allowed on Avalonian soil and you know it. Now, the war committee has already authorized the deployment of ten thousand more soldiers to guard your pumps and the national police are investigating the bombings."
"I want access to all their reports," Tony interjected, "And immediate reporting, I won't be sitting around for months waiting for your guys to finish up the investigation."
"Done"
"And one more thing," Tony said, "I want my own guy on your investigation team and he will report to me."
Lucius grimaced, he didn't know how he would sell that to Commissioner Hathkelp but he would have to if he were to keep relations normal. He nodded briskly and Tony grinned.
"It is always a pleasure, Lucius," Tony said extending his hand which was quickly grasped by Lucius.
"Likewise friend." | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | There was a ear splitting snap and crackle of energy that caused some of the scientists and guests in attendance to yell out in alarm.
"It's open, Earth 4!" the lead technician adjusted some dials to help solidify the edges of the portal. "We don't want anyone sucked in through the edge to any number of alternate dimensions and possibilities never to return."
The general standing behind him paled slightly. He wanted to be the one going up the ramp to look around after the robot probe had sounded the all clear. It reminded him that his risk taking days as a soldier were long behind him. He was a leader. Generals lead from the rear these days.
"Send the first RoboProbe across", the general ordered. He watched the small roving robot cross the threshold across to, Earth, just another Earth. This probe had a cable attached to it providing tethered video feeds in several spectrums including visible light, and various non-visible spectrums. While this was another Earth, hopefully, it would have oil and natural gas deposits that we could mine, or have the people of that version of Earth mine for us. We had used up all of the available stores of fossil fuels.
It was impossible to consider this was our current situation, but in 2114, we realized we were finding more and more of our seemingly endless supplies drying up. The hardest hit was for the Middle East, where they truly believed they would have oil "forever". Oil prices rose, there were riots, the royal families of the region were overthrown, country by country until anarchy ruled the region. With no oil as a promised payoff to keep the peace, the United States decided to, "Sit this one out". It was a bloodbath. The giant playgrounds of the ultra wealthy suddenly devolved into chaos. The EU initially tried to help, but it was no use. Desperate people will do what they must to survive. Once there were no "jobs" they all made an exodus of the area. Why live where you can't grow crops? Why live where there are no jobs. The best help the EU provided was to provide transport for those workers back to their home countries.
Then, the Artic and Antartic both began to dry up. These were places that we were told would have HUNDREDS of years of oil reserves, but that was simply not true. The vast Shale Oil "reserves" quit producing, coal miners discovered the end of all of the veins of coal under the Appalachian mountains. We started forcing major changes in recycling. No more single use plastics. We cleaned ALL of the plastics from the giant floating island of plastic in the Pacific ocean and thanks to the research of a young Japanese man, we were able to reclaim plastic bottles to fuel and lubricating oils. There was talk of how we were going to have to find "something else", but it always seemed that the "Big Oil" Companies found reasons that the "something else" wouldn't work, and boy did they push that agenda with their marketing machines. Finally, we ended up where we are today.
Through the science of extreme magnetism and nuclear power we discovered the way to tear a hole in the fabric of space time. We could, and WOULD get our oil from an alternate Earth. We had opened several holes to other dimensional Earths. We would look through. The first 3 such rifts we opened looked upon what seemed like vastly more technologically superior worlds. We quickly closed those rifts. We could not allow ourselves to be seen as weak. Finally on the 4th attempt, we found a forest that looked like no people had been there for years. Here is where we would send our probe to check things out.
"It looks like we are receiving signal from the probe through the wired connection via the gate just fine. Look at those trees!" The trees were magnificent. Pines growing straight up with trunks that were easily 4 feet across. there were ferns low in the forest that the probe snipped a leaf and sealed it in a container for study once it came back. After reaching a distance of 100 yards from the gate, the probe started scanning in all directions. Plant life in all directions as far as it could scan. There were animals, heat signatures of small and not so small woodland creatures as well. Nothing came up to the probe, and nothing was within visible camera range. The biologists on the project were disappointed. They hoped to see some new discovery. The temperature was warmer than they expected for this type of forest. It was 31 degrees celsius and for night time, that was warm.
No one was shocked more than Simmons, the scientist running the gate when a hole appeared in space between him and the general. "What are you doing?" a voice asked. He turned to his right, thinking it was perhaps the general who had spoken to him, to see a very pale face staring at him from a hole in reality.
"Crap! Who are you???" he yelled out. Everyone in the room turned to look at him. Those on his left saw the face as well. Those to the right saw nothing but his shocked expression and those behind him.
"You had your chance. To be honest, when you cleaned the oceans and learned how to really recycle all the plastic back into oil, we thought you were going to figure out that solar, wind, tidal and other free and renewable energy sources would provide you what you needed for your growth. We were most amazed that you discovered the gate system and alternate Earths without help." The gate widened and the 'person' came through. The portal shrunk once they were through.
"You were discovered opening portals when you opened to Earth 3207, that was our capital city you discovered. We waited for you to send a probe across, but we heard you discussing not wanting to be conquered by a technologically superior version of the planet, and you closed that portal and tucked your tails between your legs. So now, you've opened a portal to a very innocent version of our planet. One that is, however under OUR protection. Did you even think of how much energy it would take to bring OIL from there to here? Did you think about the wildlife there?"
"Now look here, whoever you are!" the general barked. "We have the right to explore and protect ourselves, it's our right as AMERICANS!"
The figure blinked as she stared at the general. "Wow, I had forgotten this had existed, see, we wiped out this type of thinking long ago.", she walked up to the general. He was at least a head taller than her. He puffed himself up and stared at the visitor, contempt in his eyes.
"How do you think you will stop us?"
It was at this point, the video feed from the RoboProbe went dark. Nobody really noticed that, or how the line, once taut, went slack. They also didn't notice the 'people' crossing over from the other gate. They had skin that was bluish black and covered in a light fur. The two individuals also wore clothes that would have seemed very fancy in the 1800s. Suits to be precise. They moved silently toward the back of the crowd staring at the visitor from Earth 3207 and each one picked a person to stand behind. Nobody noticed them, except our other visitor, but she did not acknowledge them.
"Well, actually, I won't be the one to stop you. It will be the citizens of that Earth. You see, they evolved a little differently from our Earths." She pointed to the back of the crowd. A Gasp rose, There were 30 bodies strewn across the concrete floor. The technician, the general, and a couple of other workers who were close to the visitor were the only ones left alive. The others had been slaughtered like sheep or cattle. necks and torsos slit or split open. This had been accomplished in a matter of seconds and without a sound made. More of the furry people made their way into the portal...
"Shut it down! Simmons, Shut! IT! DOWN!!!" , the General screamed. But Simmons was transfixed on the gaze of a particular looking female who had came through the portal. Was he hypnotized, under a psionic compulsion, or what, he didn't know. What he did know is that he had a new role on Earth, and she would provide rules he would play under.
Realizing that the invasion had begun, the Visitor snapped her fingers and her portal opened and slid over her body. There was no way she wanted them to gain access to her world, and this world was lost now. Knowing that Simmons could open the portal to her world again, she reached into her pants and pulled out a dagger that she plunged into his neck.
The Drow invasion has consumed another planet and there's no way to save these people. She saw more and more coming through the portal to this Earth. As her portal closed, she saw one of the dark beings run for it, trying to get through. Worse than that, she saw the victims stirring. They would be the start of their zombie army. At least Earth 3207 was safe for now. | *Marvelous craftsmanship*, Tony thought as he ran his fingers over the contours of the wooden table he sat at. The body of it had been hand-carved, in a factory of course; but still, human hands had fashioned it. Tony marveled at its dark and sinuous lines snaking this way and that as time ticked away.
He looked at his watch to reveal that it was exactly fifteen minutes after his meeting was supposed to begin. Grinning in irritation he went back to staring at the desk. It had been made just a few miles from where he sat now in a factory on Lockhart street. While most of the structure had been milled out and put together in the most modern of ways, at least for them, the details had been hand carved.
It displayed the day forces of the United States first arrived on this planet, this alternate world. Etched into the wood stood the four green berets that had first slipped through the rainbow bridge and made a tensely peaceful first contact with the Avalonian Republic.
That had been nearly three years ago and in that time the two countries had built rather respectable relations. The reasons for which were easy to explain, both sides had something that the other wanted and neither could defeat the other in a pitched war.
On the side of the United States, they wanted access to the large untapped oil reservoirs on this planet. The Avalons, they wanted our technology. The Avalons were at a stage of technological advancement that was comparable to the European powers of the 1890s in the timeline inhabited by Tony and the United States. They had little use for the oil and more use for the medical technology offered by the United States.
The bridge could only allow for the transport of a limited number of objects however and could only be opened for roughly fifteen minutes a day. This made a conquest of this planet impossible and forced the United States to rely on local workers for their pumps. The Avalons were more than happy about this arrangement as it quickly made them the richest country in the world, with only one major rival, Donovia.
Donovia was a monarchy that lay mostly on the other side of a large ocean, with the exception of a small colony that shared a thirty-mile border in the south of Avalon. The two countries were bitter rivals with more than a couple of wars between them and now there was a new and powerful trading partner to compete over.
Tony sighed as he sat in the conference room of the Grandenhall building, the seat of power in Avalon. This room was specially reserved for him and his team, decorated to match the tastes of his country. It held an American flag next to the banner of the Avalonian Republic government. The countries of this planet did not have flags as one from America would think of them where a single large flag can represent an entire nation. No, the Avalons used mostly small banners to represent regions and families, with one government banner that held official value when flown.
The door suddenly opened and in walked Tony's counterpart, ambassador Phentrop Lucius. He walked in breathing slightly heavy and his face blush.
"Mister Grenn, I apologize for my tardiness," he said with a curt bow that Tony quickly returned, "I was made to brief the chancellor on the events of the last few days this morning and it ran long."
"Oh it is quite alright, Lucius," Tony grinned as he made his way to the table, "I know you would never keep me waiting for no reason."
Lucius sat down across from Tony, setting files he had been carrying down in front of him. He quickly donned a pair of spectacles and flipped through the small mountain of paperwork until he pulled out two reports.
"So these are the reports your embassy sent us about the attacks," he finally said.
"Yes, three pumps in two days," Tony replied calmly, "134 Avalonian workers killed, 200 wounded.
And more importantly," Tony leaned in, "4 dead Americans."
There was a moment of silence between the men as the words hung in the air.
"What am I supposed to do, Lucius?" Tony finally asked, his fingers began to rap on the table.
"Your government promised to secure our pumps when we agreed not to bring troops in to do it," Tony continued, "Now you have failed that and Americans are dead. Should I tell Washington to send troops?"
"No," Lucius said, "Troops will never be allowed on Avalonian soil and you know it. Now, the war committee has already authorized the deployment of ten thousand more soldiers to guard your pumps and the national police are investigating the bombings."
"I want access to all their reports," Tony interjected, "And immediate reporting, I won't be sitting around for months waiting for your guys to finish up the investigation."
"Done"
"And one more thing," Tony said, "I want my own guy on your investigation team and he will report to me."
Lucius grimaced, he didn't know how he would sell that to Commissioner Hathkelp but he would have to if he were to keep relations normal. He nodded briskly and Tony grinned.
"It is always a pleasure, Lucius," Tony said extending his hand which was quickly grasped by Lucius.
"Likewise friend." | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | To preface this I've never written any sort of story before so please be kind lol.
He flipped a switch on the intimidatingly large machine. “Please.” he said softly to himself, hoping.
The humming of computer fans starting up simultaneously filled the room.
Lights began to flash on and off forcefully, as if they were trying to break out of their own bulbs.
The LCD screen to his right flickered on quickly.
“ALL SYSTEMS ONLINE…
INITIATING STARTUP SCRIPT...” it read.
His breath quickened and his heart was beating loudly in his ears.
A Tesla coil shot bolts of electricity back and forth between two metal poles.
Soon the bolts were moving so fast that they looked as though they were an impenetrable wall between two worlds.
His eyes widened. “It’s going to work!” He exclaimed, elated.
Suddenly the machine cut off. All of the lights, sounds, and bolts of electricity vanished at once.
All of his previous excitement drained from his face.
He sighed with a look of utter disappointment as he looked over to the display.
“ERROR: UNSAFE TEMPERATURES
STARTING FAIL-SAFE MECHANISM…
ALL PROCESSES SUCCESSFULLY ENDED”
He feared what would happen next.
​
“Dr. Shen!” The general yelled harshly. “What progress have you made?”
“Sir, not to be rude but how can you possibly expect me to know how close I am?” Dr. Shen said, as he continued to tinker with the machine.
“That’s fair, but you know how time sensitive this project is.” The general retorted. He continued, “We have five days before our oil reserves are all emptied. The public knows it’s bad, but certainly not this bad.”
“But sir,” Dr. Shen started, “why can’t we just follow the other countries and switch to renewable resources?”
“Son, how much money do you think the car companies will lose if they have to switch to electric?” He paused. “What about gas ovens? Huh? What will happen to our economy?”
Dr. Shen tried to form a response to this but he couldn’t seem to fully comprehend the stupidity of what he had just heard.
He was silent for a moment.
“General. Are you telling me that you are forcing me to build you a *portal* to *another dimension* so that your Honda stocks don’t go down?”
He replied softly, “Ford.” | The rift in time and space shined around the edges in flares of yellow and orange, sometimes wavering, but ultimately stabilized by the blue pillars scaffolded around it.
"This is everything we've ever dreamed and more, sir," Dr. Harvey beamed. "We can keep it open for as long as we like, and close it at a moment's notice by simply turning the diodes off. The other side is as hospitable as our own world, more or less because it effectively is our own world... with notable exceptions."
The Secretary of Energy, Ms. Duster chimed in, "This version of Earth, parallel but not quite equal... it has a sufficiently similar history that we have already determined that there was a time when complex hydrocarbons formed, then spent some time under the surface and formed the oil we know how to use."
The President rubbed his chin thoughtfully, the magnitude of the news digesting slowly in his brain. "When you say sufficiently similar, you don't mean that they're... like us?"
Dr. Harvey continued, "Well, if you're concerned with ethics, I assure you we've already analyzed our approach for any room for concern, and it is certainly safe from criticism. As you recall, we're already within a limited breach of ethics in this search for the rift, and the execution of building a hole into another Earth, but that was approved. As for the rest..."
"The rest is what I mean. They had these complex hydrocarbs, but there's no current intelligent life? No humans? Nothing to give the bleeding hearts something to whine about?"
"Well, sir, yes and no..." Dr. Harvey's face turned uncomfortable.
Secretary Duster interrupted. "More no than yes, sir. What the doctor means is, there's definitely something human-like there. They resemble us from a physical standpoint, and they do have some rudimentary societal structure that we can definitely point to as existing and even being moderately similar, but... What is intelligent life, exactly? Not these things."
"So they're human, but not human?" the President inquired.
"We wouldn't consider them human, based on their obvious lack of intellect," clarified Secretary Duster.
"How do you measure 'obvious', Ms. Duster? Dr. Harvey?"
Dr. Harvey cleared his throat before speaking. "Well sir, they voted Donald Trump in as their President." | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | We were fools.
In our desires to preserve our technological age we broke through the fabric of reality in order to reach through and steal from dimensions that were not our own. Punching these holes came with consequences of course, but none of us could have guessed that something would grip the hand we had reached through and pull us in.
"Evans, status report." The jury rigged emergency radio they had found crackled to life in the pocket of the dimension miner. Rick Evans sighed and picked the squawker out with his free hand, clicking down the makeshift PTT and replying. "Evans. Status: clear. Uptake: Negative. And how long are we gonna have to use the damn military radio crap? I can tell you how I'm doing without sounding like a fucking robot." The silence at the other end was his answer to that question. He growled at the quiet radio and jammed it back in his pocket before flipping the switch on his gun and shooting a different section of the rock face they'd set apart for reality blasting. The standard issue Reality Diffusion Device Mk 2.7 hummed in Evan's hands as photons were violently sped up in a prismatic angular accelerator before being fired at nearly double the speed of light. The impact of these photons created minuscule controlled singularities dense enough to poke holes in reality without ruining their nearly dead Earth any more than it was. 'Course Evans just called it 'Hole-Puncher' and he didn't really care about the science as long as he got paid and didn't catch cancer. It didn't bother him either that it was energized by the last reserve energy source on the whole planet.
About an hour into blasting the rock and checking the little solar powered sonar for pings, Evans decided it was time for a well deserved break. He sat back with the Hole Puncher in his left hand and cracked a warm beer with his right, giving the can a little kiss. "Liquid bread's so much better than bread...bread." He muttered under his breath to himself, knowing full well that it was stupid but less of a fuck he could not give. He took a sip and pulled the trigger again to send another burst of photons out at the rock, checking the sonar every couple of minutes as he lounged. Now, the sonar was set to detect the faint carbon ion radiation that would indicate the presence of a fossil fuel leaking through the tiny holes. Anything else would be an unnecessary waste of power. Which is the reason why miner Rick Evans was caught completely unawares as one of the holes was ripped open from the other side, and reality shit itself.
Infinite dimensions and infinite realities means that the smallest fraction of a percentage of a chance are guaranteed to happen. In this instance two dimensions suffering the same plight fired on opposing sides of a rock grounded in the same place in reality. They punched holes between their realities in the exact opposite spot of the other and made the singularity warping reality just a little too big for its britches. Instead of winking out, unable to support itself, the singularity had barely enough mass and energy to explode into a full blown black hole spanning between two dimensions. The fabric of reality on each side imploded against the other, and both were completely and utterly erased. Leaving nothing. | It should have figured that, rather than do the sensible thing, we as a country would decide on the hard road.
2035 will forever be remembered as the year the fossil fuels ran out. Most of the world's greatest minds pretended the years and years of warnings and predictions never existed. Man's memory, after all, is notoriously short.
For whatever reason, most of the mind hive also concluded that there were no alternatives, something the rural communities and conspiracy communes, who had long forseen this day, disbelievingly shook their heads at. Of course, most knew the real reason no one pursued clean and renewable energy. There was no money in it. Most anyone with a little time and willingness to learn could setup a system big enough to power a home or, with the right help, a community. After all, there were enough communities around to prove it. How the hell were corporations supposed to keep up with that?
So, the hive mind decided on the slightly impossible. I say slightly because a version of it had already been in existence. They just hadn't figured out how to use it to their advantage.
The answer: alternate dimensions.
Will continue later.
EDIT: PART 2 ADDED
Alternate dimensions were something of a fickle art in the science community. No real 'right' way to get one active, and no real way to keep it stable. This, of course, caused plenty of issues. Some of which spilled out into the general populace at times. At one point, a contagion made it's way through a small City before being contained via a radiation 'accident'. Another time, nightmares and hallucinations plagued the citizens of a town for months because of sound waves that were radiating up from an underground lab, waves that weren't being detected by the equipment due to some strange interference clashing with technology. By the time the wormhole collapsed, the entire town had slaughtered itself.
But I digress.
When the decision was made to search for fossil fuels elsewhere, the US was in dire straits. Outages were constant and rarely fixed. Rations gave way to riots and looting. The economy collapsed, and then society itself. We declined to a bad state, and received aid from few due to our history of alienation. Left to fend for ourselves it's no wonder this was the path taken. The hive mind became the Science Circle and they pitched the idea when we were at our lowest. So of course the population said yes. Nevermind the alternatives.
The Science Circle Corp, or SCC, pursued this avenue full speed ahead. It's amazing what can be accomplished when curiosity trumps safety. Especially the safety of the majority. Science prevailed, sometimes, and when it failed the SCC turned to the occult. That was its own problem, naturally. When respect due isn't given it almost always ends badly. Hundreds, then thousands, then tens of thousands died as these mistakes piled up. Mistakes like portals that led to dimensions no one should be dabbling in. Monsters and demons ran rampant in areas of high concentration and too often a high price was paid before the portals could be reversed. Running before learning to walk. It is the human ego that leads to problems like these. Arrogance.
Finally, as it usually does, things stabilized. A working means of dimension travel became possible, after many lessons learned. Finally, after much pain and disaster, the plans could come to fruition.
But the world had changed.
It was no longer in need of fossil fuels. All of the spillover from both science and the occult practices, not to mention the effects of the various portals and wormholes, radiation and human resilience had brought something new to the world. Something that had once only existed in the imaginations of children and the children-at-heart.
MAGIC. | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | There was a ear splitting snap and crackle of energy that caused some of the scientists and guests in attendance to yell out in alarm.
"It's open, Earth 4!" the lead technician adjusted some dials to help solidify the edges of the portal. "We don't want anyone sucked in through the edge to any number of alternate dimensions and possibilities never to return."
The general standing behind him paled slightly. He wanted to be the one going up the ramp to look around after the robot probe had sounded the all clear. It reminded him that his risk taking days as a soldier were long behind him. He was a leader. Generals lead from the rear these days.
"Send the first RoboProbe across", the general ordered. He watched the small roving robot cross the threshold across to, Earth, just another Earth. This probe had a cable attached to it providing tethered video feeds in several spectrums including visible light, and various non-visible spectrums. While this was another Earth, hopefully, it would have oil and natural gas deposits that we could mine, or have the people of that version of Earth mine for us. We had used up all of the available stores of fossil fuels.
It was impossible to consider this was our current situation, but in 2114, we realized we were finding more and more of our seemingly endless supplies drying up. The hardest hit was for the Middle East, where they truly believed they would have oil "forever". Oil prices rose, there were riots, the royal families of the region were overthrown, country by country until anarchy ruled the region. With no oil as a promised payoff to keep the peace, the United States decided to, "Sit this one out". It was a bloodbath. The giant playgrounds of the ultra wealthy suddenly devolved into chaos. The EU initially tried to help, but it was no use. Desperate people will do what they must to survive. Once there were no "jobs" they all made an exodus of the area. Why live where you can't grow crops? Why live where there are no jobs. The best help the EU provided was to provide transport for those workers back to their home countries.
Then, the Artic and Antartic both began to dry up. These were places that we were told would have HUNDREDS of years of oil reserves, but that was simply not true. The vast Shale Oil "reserves" quit producing, coal miners discovered the end of all of the veins of coal under the Appalachian mountains. We started forcing major changes in recycling. No more single use plastics. We cleaned ALL of the plastics from the giant floating island of plastic in the Pacific ocean and thanks to the research of a young Japanese man, we were able to reclaim plastic bottles to fuel and lubricating oils. There was talk of how we were going to have to find "something else", but it always seemed that the "Big Oil" Companies found reasons that the "something else" wouldn't work, and boy did they push that agenda with their marketing machines. Finally, we ended up where we are today.
Through the science of extreme magnetism and nuclear power we discovered the way to tear a hole in the fabric of space time. We could, and WOULD get our oil from an alternate Earth. We had opened several holes to other dimensional Earths. We would look through. The first 3 such rifts we opened looked upon what seemed like vastly more technologically superior worlds. We quickly closed those rifts. We could not allow ourselves to be seen as weak. Finally on the 4th attempt, we found a forest that looked like no people had been there for years. Here is where we would send our probe to check things out.
"It looks like we are receiving signal from the probe through the wired connection via the gate just fine. Look at those trees!" The trees were magnificent. Pines growing straight up with trunks that were easily 4 feet across. there were ferns low in the forest that the probe snipped a leaf and sealed it in a container for study once it came back. After reaching a distance of 100 yards from the gate, the probe started scanning in all directions. Plant life in all directions as far as it could scan. There were animals, heat signatures of small and not so small woodland creatures as well. Nothing came up to the probe, and nothing was within visible camera range. The biologists on the project were disappointed. They hoped to see some new discovery. The temperature was warmer than they expected for this type of forest. It was 31 degrees celsius and for night time, that was warm.
No one was shocked more than Simmons, the scientist running the gate when a hole appeared in space between him and the general. "What are you doing?" a voice asked. He turned to his right, thinking it was perhaps the general who had spoken to him, to see a very pale face staring at him from a hole in reality.
"Crap! Who are you???" he yelled out. Everyone in the room turned to look at him. Those on his left saw the face as well. Those to the right saw nothing but his shocked expression and those behind him.
"You had your chance. To be honest, when you cleaned the oceans and learned how to really recycle all the plastic back into oil, we thought you were going to figure out that solar, wind, tidal and other free and renewable energy sources would provide you what you needed for your growth. We were most amazed that you discovered the gate system and alternate Earths without help." The gate widened and the 'person' came through. The portal shrunk once they were through.
"You were discovered opening portals when you opened to Earth 3207, that was our capital city you discovered. We waited for you to send a probe across, but we heard you discussing not wanting to be conquered by a technologically superior version of the planet, and you closed that portal and tucked your tails between your legs. So now, you've opened a portal to a very innocent version of our planet. One that is, however under OUR protection. Did you even think of how much energy it would take to bring OIL from there to here? Did you think about the wildlife there?"
"Now look here, whoever you are!" the general barked. "We have the right to explore and protect ourselves, it's our right as AMERICANS!"
The figure blinked as she stared at the general. "Wow, I had forgotten this had existed, see, we wiped out this type of thinking long ago.", she walked up to the general. He was at least a head taller than her. He puffed himself up and stared at the visitor, contempt in his eyes.
"How do you think you will stop us?"
It was at this point, the video feed from the RoboProbe went dark. Nobody really noticed that, or how the line, once taut, went slack. They also didn't notice the 'people' crossing over from the other gate. They had skin that was bluish black and covered in a light fur. The two individuals also wore clothes that would have seemed very fancy in the 1800s. Suits to be precise. They moved silently toward the back of the crowd staring at the visitor from Earth 3207 and each one picked a person to stand behind. Nobody noticed them, except our other visitor, but she did not acknowledge them.
"Well, actually, I won't be the one to stop you. It will be the citizens of that Earth. You see, they evolved a little differently from our Earths." She pointed to the back of the crowd. A Gasp rose, There were 30 bodies strewn across the concrete floor. The technician, the general, and a couple of other workers who were close to the visitor were the only ones left alive. The others had been slaughtered like sheep or cattle. necks and torsos slit or split open. This had been accomplished in a matter of seconds and without a sound made. More of the furry people made their way into the portal...
"Shut it down! Simmons, Shut! IT! DOWN!!!" , the General screamed. But Simmons was transfixed on the gaze of a particular looking female who had came through the portal. Was he hypnotized, under a psionic compulsion, or what, he didn't know. What he did know is that he had a new role on Earth, and she would provide rules he would play under.
Realizing that the invasion had begun, the Visitor snapped her fingers and her portal opened and slid over her body. There was no way she wanted them to gain access to her world, and this world was lost now. Knowing that Simmons could open the portal to her world again, she reached into her pants and pulled out a dagger that she plunged into his neck.
The Drow invasion has consumed another planet and there's no way to save these people. She saw more and more coming through the portal to this Earth. As her portal closed, she saw one of the dark beings run for it, trying to get through. Worse than that, she saw the victims stirring. They would be the start of their zombie army. At least Earth 3207 was safe for now. | It should have figured that, rather than do the sensible thing, we as a country would decide on the hard road.
2035 will forever be remembered as the year the fossil fuels ran out. Most of the world's greatest minds pretended the years and years of warnings and predictions never existed. Man's memory, after all, is notoriously short.
For whatever reason, most of the mind hive also concluded that there were no alternatives, something the rural communities and conspiracy communes, who had long forseen this day, disbelievingly shook their heads at. Of course, most knew the real reason no one pursued clean and renewable energy. There was no money in it. Most anyone with a little time and willingness to learn could setup a system big enough to power a home or, with the right help, a community. After all, there were enough communities around to prove it. How the hell were corporations supposed to keep up with that?
So, the hive mind decided on the slightly impossible. I say slightly because a version of it had already been in existence. They just hadn't figured out how to use it to their advantage.
The answer: alternate dimensions.
Will continue later.
EDIT: PART 2 ADDED
Alternate dimensions were something of a fickle art in the science community. No real 'right' way to get one active, and no real way to keep it stable. This, of course, caused plenty of issues. Some of which spilled out into the general populace at times. At one point, a contagion made it's way through a small City before being contained via a radiation 'accident'. Another time, nightmares and hallucinations plagued the citizens of a town for months because of sound waves that were radiating up from an underground lab, waves that weren't being detected by the equipment due to some strange interference clashing with technology. By the time the wormhole collapsed, the entire town had slaughtered itself.
But I digress.
When the decision was made to search for fossil fuels elsewhere, the US was in dire straits. Outages were constant and rarely fixed. Rations gave way to riots and looting. The economy collapsed, and then society itself. We declined to a bad state, and received aid from few due to our history of alienation. Left to fend for ourselves it's no wonder this was the path taken. The hive mind became the Science Circle and they pitched the idea when we were at our lowest. So of course the population said yes. Nevermind the alternatives.
The Science Circle Corp, or SCC, pursued this avenue full speed ahead. It's amazing what can be accomplished when curiosity trumps safety. Especially the safety of the majority. Science prevailed, sometimes, and when it failed the SCC turned to the occult. That was its own problem, naturally. When respect due isn't given it almost always ends badly. Hundreds, then thousands, then tens of thousands died as these mistakes piled up. Mistakes like portals that led to dimensions no one should be dabbling in. Monsters and demons ran rampant in areas of high concentration and too often a high price was paid before the portals could be reversed. Running before learning to walk. It is the human ego that leads to problems like these. Arrogance.
Finally, as it usually does, things stabilized. A working means of dimension travel became possible, after many lessons learned. Finally, after much pain and disaster, the plans could come to fruition.
But the world had changed.
It was no longer in need of fossil fuels. All of the spillover from both science and the occult practices, not to mention the effects of the various portals and wormholes, radiation and human resilience had brought something new to the world. Something that had once only existed in the imaginations of children and the children-at-heart.
MAGIC. | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | Eugene stood from his seat as a group of men entered the room. He fidgeted with nervous energy in his best black tuxedo. It was complete with a bow tie and matching silver cumberbund stretched out around his round belly. He looked down at Wallace and slapped his shoulder to get him standing too. His stocky, grey-haired friend waved Eugene's hand away and smiled.
"He's the president, not a judge," Wallace said, then turned to the president. The distinguished, lean man with a silver beard smiled at the men as he sat behind his desk. His entourage of guards took up positions around the room.
"Thank you for coming, Mr. Carter," he said. The president looked up at Eugene and chuckled. "You can sit down," and the portly man did. The president glanced over at Wallace. "And you brought your... assistant?" he asked. Eugene nodded but cringed internally. As much as he hated taking credit for Wallace's work it was almost unbearable to do it in front of him. The only way he managed was at Wallace's insistence. Wallace was brilliant but he was not interested in the kind of attention Eugene received with his stolen credit. The pair had been friends since grade school and Wallace trusted Eugene to give him a fair share of any financial gain. Eugene never disappointed him.
"I understand you've made contact with an alternate universe," the president said directly. Eugene nodded and hoped there wouldn't be any follow up questions about that particular incident. He did not think it would reflect well on him if he explained that Wallace did it. [The 'why'](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/bhame1/wp_you_have_invented_a_universeworld_changing/) could only work against their credibility.
"Can you do it again?" the president asked. Eugene started to nod but Wallace spoke up before he completed the motion.
"Why?" Wallace asked. Eugene was grateful for the interruption. He was about to divulge that it had been done many times since then, almost every week for months now. The pair of friends had a regular pizza dinner most Friday nights. They'd learned a lot about the Earths outside their own. And about the dangers of the multiverse.
"To establish diplomatic ties and begin trade," he said simply. Wallace turned and shook his head at Eugene.
"I'm sorry Mr. President, we don't know how to duplicate it. We've been trying for a while now, maybe if we had a better lab with more funding." Eugene angled for an upgrade and hoped he'd get more time to find out why Wallace said no. The president shook his head.
"I'm afraid we don't have the time to wait for you to fail. Thank you, Gentlemen. Don't worry about it too much, we have a backup plan." The president pressed a button his desk. "Send in Ms. Sharp," he said.
"NO!" Wallace bolted to his feet fast enough to make the guards reach for their guns; they stopped before drawing once Wallace put his hands up. "We'll help, we'll help!" he spoke as if someone was twisting his arm. "Don't trust her."
"You know her? How soon can you help?" The president asked. He gestured at the door and one of the guards stopped it as it opened. The suited guard peeked through the door.
"Sorry, one second, Ms. Sharp," he said.
"Today!" Wallace said. "I'll get you a list of reasonable Earths that might be open to trade," he glanced at his wristwatch. "Four hours," he shook his head. "I don't know what she's told you. She's from another Earth and she runs a company across several universes. She's powerful, dangerous, and can't be trusted."
"She's also in the room," a woman's voice said. All heads turned to the voice. It came from a lean, pale, dark-haired woman in a white suit. A shorter, rounder woman in a dark suit stood next to her. The shorter woman held the guard down on his knees with his hands behind his head. Bright blue light glowed under her right hand as it pressed the guard's hands against his skull. The remaining guards in the room raised their guns but a black cat padded into the room between the two women. It stopped in front of them and Eugene noticed it had a red skull pattern in the fur atop its head.
"I'm not here to make trouble, but I have a schedule to keep. Running a multi-verse company doesn't leave me a lot of free time," she looked at the president. "I was here on time for our appointment. I waited patiently until you called me in. Asking me to wait again after that is extremely rude. If you don't need my services, let me know now and I'll be on my way. If you want to make a deal I have enough time left to talk about it." Wallace glanced around at the guards. Four guns were drawn and aimed at the women but something seemed off. He looked to Eugene but his friend seemed to be petrified with fear. The man in the tuxedo stared at the women and Wallace thought that seemed odd. Wallace expected the man's head to be darting back and forth trying to process the situation.
While Ms. Sharp explained her actions to the president, Wallace stared at Eugene and realized he wasn't breathing. He made a surprised, worried sound and the dark-suited woman turned to look at him. Wallace realized the woman wasn't holding the guard down anymore, but he remained on his knees still holding his hands in place. The guard was as still as Eugene. He saw golden stars flash in her eyes then Ms. Sharp turned her attention to him.
"I don't think we can do business," the president said and gestured at the kneeling guard. "Not when you treat my-"
"Janet," Ms. Sharp said. The president's voice did not return after the interruption. Wallace looked and saw the president sitting perfectly still with his mouth open mid-word. Ms. Sharp smiled at Wallace.
"What should I do with you?" she asked herself. "What do you think, Melody?" she asked again after a moment of deliberation.
"He's slumbering and we don't need another Sun right now. Wake him up, it might be fun to see how this one develops."
"Janet?" Ms. Sharp asked.
"A class. Not worth saving for anything." Wallace was surprised when he heard a soft, pleasant, feminine voice come from the cat. Ms. Sharp nodded.
"Very well," she gave him a dismissive wave then turned to leave the room. "Your favorite number is 46," Ms. Sharp called out over her shoulder. "You should get that on a tattoo." Melody and Janet the cat followed her out of the room and the door close. Then several things happened at once.
"people with such disrespect," The president finished his sentence at the same time four gunshots rang out. Four bullets hit the same area on the door where Ms. Sharp had been standing moments ago. Eugene's head twisted left and right rapidly.
"Where'd she go?" he asked.
The guard that was being held on his knees flew forward as if he had been pushed down before Janet stopped time.
\*\*\*
Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is year two, story #247. You can find all my stories collected on my subreddit ([r/hugoverse](https://www.reddit.com/r/hugoverse)) or my [blog](https://hugoverse.info/). If you're curious about my universe (the Hugoverse) you can visit the [Guidebook](https://hugoverse.info/2017/11/25/hugoverse-guidebook/) to see what's what and who's who, or the [Timeline](https://hugoverse.info/2017/10/23/hugoverse-timeline/) to find the stories in order.
\*\*\*
edit: added a link to the why. | It should have figured that, rather than do the sensible thing, we as a country would decide on the hard road.
2035 will forever be remembered as the year the fossil fuels ran out. Most of the world's greatest minds pretended the years and years of warnings and predictions never existed. Man's memory, after all, is notoriously short.
For whatever reason, most of the mind hive also concluded that there were no alternatives, something the rural communities and conspiracy communes, who had long forseen this day, disbelievingly shook their heads at. Of course, most knew the real reason no one pursued clean and renewable energy. There was no money in it. Most anyone with a little time and willingness to learn could setup a system big enough to power a home or, with the right help, a community. After all, there were enough communities around to prove it. How the hell were corporations supposed to keep up with that?
So, the hive mind decided on the slightly impossible. I say slightly because a version of it had already been in existence. They just hadn't figured out how to use it to their advantage.
The answer: alternate dimensions.
Will continue later.
EDIT: PART 2 ADDED
Alternate dimensions were something of a fickle art in the science community. No real 'right' way to get one active, and no real way to keep it stable. This, of course, caused plenty of issues. Some of which spilled out into the general populace at times. At one point, a contagion made it's way through a small City before being contained via a radiation 'accident'. Another time, nightmares and hallucinations plagued the citizens of a town for months because of sound waves that were radiating up from an underground lab, waves that weren't being detected by the equipment due to some strange interference clashing with technology. By the time the wormhole collapsed, the entire town had slaughtered itself.
But I digress.
When the decision was made to search for fossil fuels elsewhere, the US was in dire straits. Outages were constant and rarely fixed. Rations gave way to riots and looting. The economy collapsed, and then society itself. We declined to a bad state, and received aid from few due to our history of alienation. Left to fend for ourselves it's no wonder this was the path taken. The hive mind became the Science Circle and they pitched the idea when we were at our lowest. So of course the population said yes. Nevermind the alternatives.
The Science Circle Corp, or SCC, pursued this avenue full speed ahead. It's amazing what can be accomplished when curiosity trumps safety. Especially the safety of the majority. Science prevailed, sometimes, and when it failed the SCC turned to the occult. That was its own problem, naturally. When respect due isn't given it almost always ends badly. Hundreds, then thousands, then tens of thousands died as these mistakes piled up. Mistakes like portals that led to dimensions no one should be dabbling in. Monsters and demons ran rampant in areas of high concentration and too often a high price was paid before the portals could be reversed. Running before learning to walk. It is the human ego that leads to problems like these. Arrogance.
Finally, as it usually does, things stabilized. A working means of dimension travel became possible, after many lessons learned. Finally, after much pain and disaster, the plans could come to fruition.
But the world had changed.
It was no longer in need of fossil fuels. All of the spillover from both science and the occult practices, not to mention the effects of the various portals and wormholes, radiation and human resilience had brought something new to the world. Something that had once only existed in the imaginations of children and the children-at-heart.
MAGIC. | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | There was a ear splitting snap and crackle of energy that caused some of the scientists and guests in attendance to yell out in alarm.
"It's open, Earth 4!" the lead technician adjusted some dials to help solidify the edges of the portal. "We don't want anyone sucked in through the edge to any number of alternate dimensions and possibilities never to return."
The general standing behind him paled slightly. He wanted to be the one going up the ramp to look around after the robot probe had sounded the all clear. It reminded him that his risk taking days as a soldier were long behind him. He was a leader. Generals lead from the rear these days.
"Send the first RoboProbe across", the general ordered. He watched the small roving robot cross the threshold across to, Earth, just another Earth. This probe had a cable attached to it providing tethered video feeds in several spectrums including visible light, and various non-visible spectrums. While this was another Earth, hopefully, it would have oil and natural gas deposits that we could mine, or have the people of that version of Earth mine for us. We had used up all of the available stores of fossil fuels.
It was impossible to consider this was our current situation, but in 2114, we realized we were finding more and more of our seemingly endless supplies drying up. The hardest hit was for the Middle East, where they truly believed they would have oil "forever". Oil prices rose, there were riots, the royal families of the region were overthrown, country by country until anarchy ruled the region. With no oil as a promised payoff to keep the peace, the United States decided to, "Sit this one out". It was a bloodbath. The giant playgrounds of the ultra wealthy suddenly devolved into chaos. The EU initially tried to help, but it was no use. Desperate people will do what they must to survive. Once there were no "jobs" they all made an exodus of the area. Why live where you can't grow crops? Why live where there are no jobs. The best help the EU provided was to provide transport for those workers back to their home countries.
Then, the Artic and Antartic both began to dry up. These were places that we were told would have HUNDREDS of years of oil reserves, but that was simply not true. The vast Shale Oil "reserves" quit producing, coal miners discovered the end of all of the veins of coal under the Appalachian mountains. We started forcing major changes in recycling. No more single use plastics. We cleaned ALL of the plastics from the giant floating island of plastic in the Pacific ocean and thanks to the research of a young Japanese man, we were able to reclaim plastic bottles to fuel and lubricating oils. There was talk of how we were going to have to find "something else", but it always seemed that the "Big Oil" Companies found reasons that the "something else" wouldn't work, and boy did they push that agenda with their marketing machines. Finally, we ended up where we are today.
Through the science of extreme magnetism and nuclear power we discovered the way to tear a hole in the fabric of space time. We could, and WOULD get our oil from an alternate Earth. We had opened several holes to other dimensional Earths. We would look through. The first 3 such rifts we opened looked upon what seemed like vastly more technologically superior worlds. We quickly closed those rifts. We could not allow ourselves to be seen as weak. Finally on the 4th attempt, we found a forest that looked like no people had been there for years. Here is where we would send our probe to check things out.
"It looks like we are receiving signal from the probe through the wired connection via the gate just fine. Look at those trees!" The trees were magnificent. Pines growing straight up with trunks that were easily 4 feet across. there were ferns low in the forest that the probe snipped a leaf and sealed it in a container for study once it came back. After reaching a distance of 100 yards from the gate, the probe started scanning in all directions. Plant life in all directions as far as it could scan. There were animals, heat signatures of small and not so small woodland creatures as well. Nothing came up to the probe, and nothing was within visible camera range. The biologists on the project were disappointed. They hoped to see some new discovery. The temperature was warmer than they expected for this type of forest. It was 31 degrees celsius and for night time, that was warm.
No one was shocked more than Simmons, the scientist running the gate when a hole appeared in space between him and the general. "What are you doing?" a voice asked. He turned to his right, thinking it was perhaps the general who had spoken to him, to see a very pale face staring at him from a hole in reality.
"Crap! Who are you???" he yelled out. Everyone in the room turned to look at him. Those on his left saw the face as well. Those to the right saw nothing but his shocked expression and those behind him.
"You had your chance. To be honest, when you cleaned the oceans and learned how to really recycle all the plastic back into oil, we thought you were going to figure out that solar, wind, tidal and other free and renewable energy sources would provide you what you needed for your growth. We were most amazed that you discovered the gate system and alternate Earths without help." The gate widened and the 'person' came through. The portal shrunk once they were through.
"You were discovered opening portals when you opened to Earth 3207, that was our capital city you discovered. We waited for you to send a probe across, but we heard you discussing not wanting to be conquered by a technologically superior version of the planet, and you closed that portal and tucked your tails between your legs. So now, you've opened a portal to a very innocent version of our planet. One that is, however under OUR protection. Did you even think of how much energy it would take to bring OIL from there to here? Did you think about the wildlife there?"
"Now look here, whoever you are!" the general barked. "We have the right to explore and protect ourselves, it's our right as AMERICANS!"
The figure blinked as she stared at the general. "Wow, I had forgotten this had existed, see, we wiped out this type of thinking long ago.", she walked up to the general. He was at least a head taller than her. He puffed himself up and stared at the visitor, contempt in his eyes.
"How do you think you will stop us?"
It was at this point, the video feed from the RoboProbe went dark. Nobody really noticed that, or how the line, once taut, went slack. They also didn't notice the 'people' crossing over from the other gate. They had skin that was bluish black and covered in a light fur. The two individuals also wore clothes that would have seemed very fancy in the 1800s. Suits to be precise. They moved silently toward the back of the crowd staring at the visitor from Earth 3207 and each one picked a person to stand behind. Nobody noticed them, except our other visitor, but she did not acknowledge them.
"Well, actually, I won't be the one to stop you. It will be the citizens of that Earth. You see, they evolved a little differently from our Earths." She pointed to the back of the crowd. A Gasp rose, There were 30 bodies strewn across the concrete floor. The technician, the general, and a couple of other workers who were close to the visitor were the only ones left alive. The others had been slaughtered like sheep or cattle. necks and torsos slit or split open. This had been accomplished in a matter of seconds and without a sound made. More of the furry people made their way into the portal...
"Shut it down! Simmons, Shut! IT! DOWN!!!" , the General screamed. But Simmons was transfixed on the gaze of a particular looking female who had came through the portal. Was he hypnotized, under a psionic compulsion, or what, he didn't know. What he did know is that he had a new role on Earth, and she would provide rules he would play under.
Realizing that the invasion had begun, the Visitor snapped her fingers and her portal opened and slid over her body. There was no way she wanted them to gain access to her world, and this world was lost now. Knowing that Simmons could open the portal to her world again, she reached into her pants and pulled out a dagger that she plunged into his neck.
The Drow invasion has consumed another planet and there's no way to save these people. She saw more and more coming through the portal to this Earth. As her portal closed, she saw one of the dark beings run for it, trying to get through. Worse than that, she saw the victims stirring. They would be the start of their zombie army. At least Earth 3207 was safe for now. | We were fools.
In our desires to preserve our technological age we broke through the fabric of reality in order to reach through and steal from dimensions that were not our own. Punching these holes came with consequences of course, but none of us could have guessed that something would grip the hand we had reached through and pull us in.
"Evans, status report." The jury rigged emergency radio they had found crackled to life in the pocket of the dimension miner. Rick Evans sighed and picked the squawker out with his free hand, clicking down the makeshift PTT and replying. "Evans. Status: clear. Uptake: Negative. And how long are we gonna have to use the damn military radio crap? I can tell you how I'm doing without sounding like a fucking robot." The silence at the other end was his answer to that question. He growled at the quiet radio and jammed it back in his pocket before flipping the switch on his gun and shooting a different section of the rock face they'd set apart for reality blasting. The standard issue Reality Diffusion Device Mk 2.7 hummed in Evan's hands as photons were violently sped up in a prismatic angular accelerator before being fired at nearly double the speed of light. The impact of these photons created minuscule controlled singularities dense enough to poke holes in reality without ruining their nearly dead Earth any more than it was. 'Course Evans just called it 'Hole-Puncher' and he didn't really care about the science as long as he got paid and didn't catch cancer. It didn't bother him either that it was energized by the last reserve energy source on the whole planet.
About an hour into blasting the rock and checking the little solar powered sonar for pings, Evans decided it was time for a well deserved break. He sat back with the Hole Puncher in his left hand and cracked a warm beer with his right, giving the can a little kiss. "Liquid bread's so much better than bread...bread." He muttered under his breath to himself, knowing full well that it was stupid but less of a fuck he could not give. He took a sip and pulled the trigger again to send another burst of photons out at the rock, checking the sonar every couple of minutes as he lounged. Now, the sonar was set to detect the faint carbon ion radiation that would indicate the presence of a fossil fuel leaking through the tiny holes. Anything else would be an unnecessary waste of power. Which is the reason why miner Rick Evans was caught completely unawares as one of the holes was ripped open from the other side, and reality shit itself.
Infinite dimensions and infinite realities means that the smallest fraction of a percentage of a chance are guaranteed to happen. In this instance two dimensions suffering the same plight fired on opposing sides of a rock grounded in the same place in reality. They punched holes between their realities in the exact opposite spot of the other and made the singularity warping reality just a little too big for its britches. Instead of winking out, unable to support itself, the singularity had barely enough mass and energy to explode into a full blown black hole spanning between two dimensions. The fabric of reality on each side imploded against the other, and both were completely and utterly erased. Leaving nothing. | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | The lines for the gas station were brutal. Sitting in the Texas heat with the windows down and the car turned off to conserve gas? Almost just as bad. Marcus Holliday - call me Marky, he would always say with a lopsided grin and a sly wink - sighed and patted the dash of the old Chevy. Dust swirled in through the window and he waved it away. "Bullshit," he mumbled to himself, glancing at his watch. It had been two hours.
The line was barely moving. People had stopped honking even. He wondered if employees would tell the customers if they were out of gas or if he was just expected to wait there until the next truck came in. If it ever came in. It's not like he could leave. He wouldn't make it far, not with the needle barely budging from empty when he turned on the car. It would sputter and maybe, just maybe, manage to turn on... He didn't want to think of the alternative.
He leaned back against the headrest, running a tan, calloused hand through that blonde mane that reached down to his shoulders. It was almost haircut time, that was for certain. Too damn hot. Had he been a little more aware - a little more present, maybe - he would have heard the commotion taking over at the front of the line. Instead he tapped along to the country song running through his mind, eyes closed and humming softly, unaccompanied by the radio or anything other than the occasional curse from a nearby car. The breeze should have been a warning if the commotion was not. Instead he just smiled to himself, breathing in the sweet smell of rancid cigarette smoke and diesel engines as the breeze turned into unseasonal gusts of wind.
Up ahead, a massive gash split the ground in the middle of the gas station, swallowing up the unfortunate cars who had seemed fortunate enough to get a couple drops of gas into their tanks. Black emerged. Not blacks like the kids who would bike up the street with their shirts off and Marky would greet them with a smile just like he would anybody else but the older folk would scowl and shake their heads. Black emerged as the very absence of anything else.
Cars and people and the meager supply of gas were all swallowed up at once. There was no belch after the great swallowing, no returning of the stolen goods or reimbursement for the damaged property. The gash just kept growing, and only when it began to consume the cars around Marky with a massive tear of metal and the screams of other passengers did he snap to attention.
"Oh, sheeeeeit," he drawled, picking up the wide-brimmed brown cowboy hat from the seat beside him and placing it carefully atop his head. He turned the key and the engine roared to life and he gave a sigh of relief. Just as quickly, it sputtered out. "Oh boy," Marky said with a nervous grin.
He reached for his holster, finding comfort in the smooth barrel of the pistol that was always by his side. Women might have come and gone from his life and his cats may have been fickle as one of his spruned mistresses but that gun was always there for him. "Not today," Marky said as he climbed out of his car. He barely had to aim - good thing since he hadn't had the gas to go to the range lately - as he pulled the trigger over and over and over again until the chamber was empty.
The black void seemed to tremble under the onslaught of bullets. Lights flashed inside as the bullets ricocheted and the black cracked blacker and little creatures emerged escaping the liquid rush that came from beneath the ground. "Halle-fucking-lujah," Marky said slowly, staring in awe as the unmistakeable rush of oil chased the twisted little creatures out of their dimension and into his. "We done hit the motherlode." He wasn't quite right, as he would soon find out. In fact, he was in far more danger than he thought. He reloaded, a nagging feeling telling him that those evil looking creatures weren't here to pay their respects to his old Chevy.
The nagging feeling was right. One of the creatures - its skin a deathly grey pallor stretched far too thin over sinewy arms and legs - jumped atop the hood of his car. "You're scratching that shit, bitch," Marky shouted at the devilish little monster. You didn't want to scratch Marky's car. That was a big no-no, as far as his no-nos went. He took careful aim, steadying his hand as chaos enveloped the world around him. "Sayonara, motherfucker," Marky growled and he fired three bullets into the creature. It collapsed and convulsed before melting into the hood of the Chevy, ruining it completely. There was silence. And then one by one the dozens of other creatures stopped tearing limb from limb the hapless passengers of the other cars and turned their attention towards Marky. "Well now I'm in a bit of a pickle," he mumbled to himself.
*****
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out more stories at /r/MatiWrites. Constructive criticism and advice are always appreciated! | June 14th, 2024
A beach ball is dropped in surprise as the winds begin to flail around the coastline. The little hands that haven't yet known roughness nor scars start trembling, whether it was from dread or excitement, one can only guess. As adults, elders and children alike start to notice the sudden change in weather conditions, slight murmurs of worried words and soft gasps spread like a plague among the once relaxed populace. Clouds had begun to shift and deform, seemingly being pulled into a central cyclone as rain drops started to fall. One could easily mistake this phenomenon as a hurricane forming and one can only be so hopeful.
In year 2021, the population of Earth had grown near its peak. The populace of the planet was weary and justifiably uneasy about the future. Extremist religious groups, active shooters, ocean-polluting, species extinction, the permafrost melting at a worrying rate. The result was a combined cocktail of chaos and unrest. Small riots rose in every country, policies and international relations of the countries that had been struck hard by the recession of 2020 were in shambles as they proposed one useless policy after another, hoping to keep the public dormant whilst they try and deal with the impossible task of restoring the economy.
The first major tragedy struck on August 1st, now known as "Red August", when a group of bio-terrorists whose faith lied in the delusion of a certain god of fire, created earlier that year by a famous cultist group that was immediately quarantined after it was discovered to be violently sacrificing stray animals for ritualistic purposes, started setting fire in the forests around Colorado, Denver. Following the incident of three forest fires simultaneously starting, the series was followed with a sudden fire in Denmark. Over the duration of the week, forest fires had become a morbid trend for the delusional, bleeding the earth with their "Faith Fire".
The boiling point struck when over a third of China's population started an uproar after it was reported in the media that half of their governmental staff members had a hand in human-trafficking. The bomb was dropped during an involved member's public speech that was midway through. It's suspected that a hacker group from the country had manipulated each vulnerable public advertising displays with explicit photos of the involved members' crimes. After 17 minutes, the speech giver had been found dead with a bullet wound to the head after their car was struck by a certain truck. The man who had committed the crime was taken into custody, however public support was overwhelming.
All over the globe, news of the scandal and the mass, violent riot of China's populace spread. During the chaos, countries' diplomats sneaked in deals, arms dealers pulled out of their contracts, laws changed and the phrase "We need a solution!" was shouted in every parliament around the world. Turns out the chaos of a singular super-power country wasn't the most important news. It had only attracted anarchy and interest. Under the shadow of the month long news updates, logs about the exhaustion of earth's resources peeked. The world had headed for certain doom.
Until Dr.Hauvellfen, PhD, originating from Switzerland, theorized a solution in the year 2022. Mass construction and a hope for a better future started hand in hand.
The policy for invading alternate dimensions were not fully outlined yet, however, massive conflicts were sure to be expected. Which is why, on the morning of June 14th, 2024, the world in which 9/11 had never happened, a rift in reality fissured throughout the coastline of Miami, Florida. Armed men and highly developed war instruments started seeping through the portal, causing a total and full chaos. One can only guess what happens in the years to come. | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | The portals were set up a month ago. Now, I would be leading a team of 60 men to this unknown dimension. It’s been over a year since fossil fuels ran out, If I came back successful I would be regarded as a hero.
“5 minutes till departure, sir.”
“Yes, yes, tell them to start if the portal.”
The Commander in Chief himself had given me an extensive list of possible resources to gather. The most preferable ones would be precious ores not present on our planet. As I looked at the bottom of this list I saw some quite disturbing things. I made a silent oath only to gather these if somehow the ores were not found.
I put on my specialty suit, gathered my team, and walked straight through that portal.
“Sir, I think we have a problem.”
“What is is.” I snapped at him, naturally annoyed.
“It seams as though we have not left Earth.”
My mind was racing, had we done all this preparation for nothing? Anger boiled up inside me and eventually I managed to stutter, “Of corse we made off Earth. Now, split up into you assigned groups and cover as much ground as possible.”
Hours past. The terrain looked awfully familiar and there were no ores to be found. I called everyone back to our central meeting place and told them the plan.
“Everyone look at number 26 on your list.”
“Humans!” One woman exclaimed, looking as though she was going to faint.
“No, no. Whales or whale type creatures and any living mammal over 120 pounds. That does include humans but also wildlife.”
“How can we be sure there even are creatures on this planet?”
“My group saw a town with some person north of her. They looked at lot like us, actually.”
“Great,” I replied, “Get 40 snipers to surround the town, 20 to load the bodies, I’ll get the truck.”
Most people muttered in agreement but then one man spoke out, “But, they’re people, just like us.”
I don’t know why I did what I did but somehow in the midst of my anger I had pulled out my firearm, and somehow my finger slipped. No one questioned me after that.
We headed out to the town and got in position, it was eerie how much they resembled us but I managed to push through any guilt still trapped inside me as I loaded that last of the butchered bodies. I still felt a little bad about leaving the kids all alone since they didn’t meet the weight requirements. They’re not even humans, so what did it matter.
We stayed there for weeks, shooting and killing and dragging and loading. After 2 and a half weeks I decided we had enough bodies to produce energy for about 3 years. We drove back to the portal site and drove the thousands of truck loads back.
“America welcomes you!” The president boomed over the speakers.
That night when I went home, I was eager to watch the news, eager to see my glorified face. But when I turned on the t.v, it was something quite different. The headline read “1.6 million Canadians Dead in American Assault.”
The newscaster spoke, “ Over the past weeks, towns in Canada have mysteriously been loosing their population aside from children. New security footage of one of these towns shows snipers in American uniforms going to work on their inhabitants. Canada has now declared war of the US because of there atrocities. We have reports bombs are being deployed over the US as we speak.”
“The...the.....port—“ I stuttered trying to wrap my mind around this
“We...n-n-never... left t—“
I heard the bomb but there was no time. I guess this is what I deserve. | June 14th, 2024
A beach ball is dropped in surprise as the winds begin to flail around the coastline. The little hands that haven't yet known roughness nor scars start trembling, whether it was from dread or excitement, one can only guess. As adults, elders and children alike start to notice the sudden change in weather conditions, slight murmurs of worried words and soft gasps spread like a plague among the once relaxed populace. Clouds had begun to shift and deform, seemingly being pulled into a central cyclone as rain drops started to fall. One could easily mistake this phenomenon as a hurricane forming and one can only be so hopeful.
In year 2021, the population of Earth had grown near its peak. The populace of the planet was weary and justifiably uneasy about the future. Extremist religious groups, active shooters, ocean-polluting, species extinction, the permafrost melting at a worrying rate. The result was a combined cocktail of chaos and unrest. Small riots rose in every country, policies and international relations of the countries that had been struck hard by the recession of 2020 were in shambles as they proposed one useless policy after another, hoping to keep the public dormant whilst they try and deal with the impossible task of restoring the economy.
The first major tragedy struck on August 1st, now known as "Red August", when a group of bio-terrorists whose faith lied in the delusion of a certain god of fire, created earlier that year by a famous cultist group that was immediately quarantined after it was discovered to be violently sacrificing stray animals for ritualistic purposes, started setting fire in the forests around Colorado, Denver. Following the incident of three forest fires simultaneously starting, the series was followed with a sudden fire in Denmark. Over the duration of the week, forest fires had become a morbid trend for the delusional, bleeding the earth with their "Faith Fire".
The boiling point struck when over a third of China's population started an uproar after it was reported in the media that half of their governmental staff members had a hand in human-trafficking. The bomb was dropped during an involved member's public speech that was midway through. It's suspected that a hacker group from the country had manipulated each vulnerable public advertising displays with explicit photos of the involved members' crimes. After 17 minutes, the speech giver had been found dead with a bullet wound to the head after their car was struck by a certain truck. The man who had committed the crime was taken into custody, however public support was overwhelming.
All over the globe, news of the scandal and the mass, violent riot of China's populace spread. During the chaos, countries' diplomats sneaked in deals, arms dealers pulled out of their contracts, laws changed and the phrase "We need a solution!" was shouted in every parliament around the world. Turns out the chaos of a singular super-power country wasn't the most important news. It had only attracted anarchy and interest. Under the shadow of the month long news updates, logs about the exhaustion of earth's resources peeked. The world had headed for certain doom.
Until Dr.Hauvellfen, PhD, originating from Switzerland, theorized a solution in the year 2022. Mass construction and a hope for a better future started hand in hand.
The policy for invading alternate dimensions were not fully outlined yet, however, massive conflicts were sure to be expected. Which is why, on the morning of June 14th, 2024, the world in which 9/11 had never happened, a rift in reality fissured throughout the coastline of Miami, Florida. Armed men and highly developed war instruments started seeping through the portal, causing a total and full chaos. One can only guess what happens in the years to come. | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | It would have been easier if the Crack had led to an uninhabited earth. It would have been easier, too, had the Crack not been made from the USA to the 'USA'. And easier still if the tribes on the other side, hadn't long ago united. If their technology, while different to ours, was not at least on par.
The Crack, although atomically unstable, had been a last gasp effort to save America's status on the world stage. It'd been formed in northern California, running three miles wide and two miles high. A light-impenetrable wall of void-black. The Mouth of God. We were to mine and pollute and -- if necessary -- destroy opposition on the other side. We'd sell the goods produced over there to the people in our world. Oil was a priority. We would not pry the Middle East's fingers off their grip on the market, but take a blade and slice them off.
Boots marched, and snipers silenced those unprepared on the other side. We weren't there to negotiate. Their reality was irrelevant to our needs. And our needs dictated our musts.
We set up our great hulking factories and machines, and sprawling defensive fortifications. Then we watched as our smoke choked their skies. Watched and waited.
We didn't have to wait long.
They came in thousands, an avalanche of angered men, women, and children.
The land ran red.
As a historian, it's my job to say where our timelines diverged, and how they achieved their eventual victory against us. It seems clear that the Europeans weren't the first to reach the Americas, in their reality. And by the time the Europeans did reach -- if ever -- the tiny machines inside the American bodies would have had no issues destroying plagues such as smallpox.
It also seems likely, from the little evidence we have and through DNA analysis, that it was the Egyptians who arrived first in South America. That the Roman Empire collapsed early and the Egyptian Empire spread and advanced, consuming Greek and Roman knowledge. Somewhere around our 400BC, the Egyptians arrived in South America and nurtured the nascent Mayan empire. These Mayans, in turn, were able to absorb the Incas and Aztecs and expand into central and northern America. They were not opposed, as they promised -- and delivered -- a better life for those that joined them.
Our battle for California lasted four years. For a time, it seemed as if the Mayans would capitulate. Their losses were great and their weapons primitive and the frequency of their attacks lessened. They were not a war like empire. But they wouldn't give up their battle: not for need of the land or for the resources, but for the sale of the planet itself that they saw us gutting. That they held so sacred, so high above all else.
The New Mayans primarily relied on sonic technologies for construction, and as the years dragged on, they re-purposed their technology. Soon, sound-waves would tear a man's head from his neck, would pick up and shake a tank to tiny pieces. As we were pushed back, we changed from bullets and bombs and gasses, to nukes. Nukes deep into their lands, that would send a message without contaminating the resources we were after. But even then, the two continents were vast, and the Mayan resources and populace almost infinite.
It became clear the USA couldn't afford a prolonged war. We had neither the manpower, the money, or the public support. We had fought for resources and lost most of our own in the attempt.
The land around the Crack, on both sides, was purposely contaminated by nuclear fallout for miles around, to stop the Mayans from coming through.
But still they come.
Still other Cracks appear around the world.
We are killing our Earth, and they will not allow it. | June 14th, 2024
A beach ball is dropped in surprise as the winds begin to flail around the coastline. The little hands that haven't yet known roughness nor scars start trembling, whether it was from dread or excitement, one can only guess. As adults, elders and children alike start to notice the sudden change in weather conditions, slight murmurs of worried words and soft gasps spread like a plague among the once relaxed populace. Clouds had begun to shift and deform, seemingly being pulled into a central cyclone as rain drops started to fall. One could easily mistake this phenomenon as a hurricane forming and one can only be so hopeful.
In year 2021, the population of Earth had grown near its peak. The populace of the planet was weary and justifiably uneasy about the future. Extremist religious groups, active shooters, ocean-polluting, species extinction, the permafrost melting at a worrying rate. The result was a combined cocktail of chaos and unrest. Small riots rose in every country, policies and international relations of the countries that had been struck hard by the recession of 2020 were in shambles as they proposed one useless policy after another, hoping to keep the public dormant whilst they try and deal with the impossible task of restoring the economy.
The first major tragedy struck on August 1st, now known as "Red August", when a group of bio-terrorists whose faith lied in the delusion of a certain god of fire, created earlier that year by a famous cultist group that was immediately quarantined after it was discovered to be violently sacrificing stray animals for ritualistic purposes, started setting fire in the forests around Colorado, Denver. Following the incident of three forest fires simultaneously starting, the series was followed with a sudden fire in Denmark. Over the duration of the week, forest fires had become a morbid trend for the delusional, bleeding the earth with their "Faith Fire".
The boiling point struck when over a third of China's population started an uproar after it was reported in the media that half of their governmental staff members had a hand in human-trafficking. The bomb was dropped during an involved member's public speech that was midway through. It's suspected that a hacker group from the country had manipulated each vulnerable public advertising displays with explicit photos of the involved members' crimes. After 17 minutes, the speech giver had been found dead with a bullet wound to the head after their car was struck by a certain truck. The man who had committed the crime was taken into custody, however public support was overwhelming.
All over the globe, news of the scandal and the mass, violent riot of China's populace spread. During the chaos, countries' diplomats sneaked in deals, arms dealers pulled out of their contracts, laws changed and the phrase "We need a solution!" was shouted in every parliament around the world. Turns out the chaos of a singular super-power country wasn't the most important news. It had only attracted anarchy and interest. Under the shadow of the month long news updates, logs about the exhaustion of earth's resources peeked. The world had headed for certain doom.
Until Dr.Hauvellfen, PhD, originating from Switzerland, theorized a solution in the year 2022. Mass construction and a hope for a better future started hand in hand.
The policy for invading alternate dimensions were not fully outlined yet, however, massive conflicts were sure to be expected. Which is why, on the morning of June 14th, 2024, the world in which 9/11 had never happened, a rift in reality fissured throughout the coastline of Miami, Florida. Armed men and highly developed war instruments started seeping through the portal, causing a total and full chaos. One can only guess what happens in the years to come. | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | The plan was perfect. It should have made me the greatest president ever. How did it go so wrong?
At first, I wasn't too excited when a bunch of science guys came to my office to explain to me their new physics thingy. Nothing but a bunch of money-hungry nerds if you ask me. I felt like I was wasting my time with them when I could have been working on some real issues. That's why I was so surprised when they had something interesting to say. Who knew science could actually be useful?
“Wait a second. Are you telling me that there is a parallel universe? With the earth and everything?”
“Well, actually, not just one but an infinity Mr President. You see, according to quantum physics...”
“There's only one thing I care about: can we go there?”
“Theoretically, yes. But the amount of energy required would just be...”
I smiled. This bunch of eggheads had just gave me the solution to our most important problem, and they didn't even realize it.
“Do they have oil?”
They looked at me, puzzled. These guys are really slow on the uptake.
“We only managed to observe one of the parallel earth, but yes, they do have oil. There is also a human civilization, and as far as we can tell, they didn't have an industrial revolution yet.”
“Gentlemen,'”I said “You just found a solution to our energy crisis!”
They looked shocked. I bet they had never thought of that!
“I will need you to build a ship that can take us to this other earth, and I need it to be done at least one year before the next election. This gives you... six months. Thank you gentlemen, I will be monitoring your progress closely.”
As they were leaving, I thought I saw one of them crying. Must be the emotion. Personally, I was buzzing. A new planet AND oil? No other Presidents ever did that. The moon landing would look ridiculous next to this.
In the next few months, I made sure the project had a nearly unlimited budget. Apparently, the first thing that was needed was a “nuclear fusion reactor” or something. They told me they were making really good progress with that. While they were building it, I was busy telling the world about my ingenious plan. Of course I had to be smart about it. First, I made them afraid.
“We have irrefutable evidence that Earth-2 has weapons of mass destruction and is planning on attacking us.”
Then, I made it look like an humanitarian mission.
“I believe the people of Earth-2 will great us as liberators.”
Of course, no mention of the oil. That would have been bad for my approval ratings. But one day, something terrible happened.
“Good news, Mr. President! The nuclear fusion reactor works! We solved the energy crisis! We can call off the invasion!” | June 14th, 2024
A beach ball is dropped in surprise as the winds begin to flail around the coastline. The little hands that haven't yet known roughness nor scars start trembling, whether it was from dread or excitement, one can only guess. As adults, elders and children alike start to notice the sudden change in weather conditions, slight murmurs of worried words and soft gasps spread like a plague among the once relaxed populace. Clouds had begun to shift and deform, seemingly being pulled into a central cyclone as rain drops started to fall. One could easily mistake this phenomenon as a hurricane forming and one can only be so hopeful.
In year 2021, the population of Earth had grown near its peak. The populace of the planet was weary and justifiably uneasy about the future. Extremist religious groups, active shooters, ocean-polluting, species extinction, the permafrost melting at a worrying rate. The result was a combined cocktail of chaos and unrest. Small riots rose in every country, policies and international relations of the countries that had been struck hard by the recession of 2020 were in shambles as they proposed one useless policy after another, hoping to keep the public dormant whilst they try and deal with the impossible task of restoring the economy.
The first major tragedy struck on August 1st, now known as "Red August", when a group of bio-terrorists whose faith lied in the delusion of a certain god of fire, created earlier that year by a famous cultist group that was immediately quarantined after it was discovered to be violently sacrificing stray animals for ritualistic purposes, started setting fire in the forests around Colorado, Denver. Following the incident of three forest fires simultaneously starting, the series was followed with a sudden fire in Denmark. Over the duration of the week, forest fires had become a morbid trend for the delusional, bleeding the earth with their "Faith Fire".
The boiling point struck when over a third of China's population started an uproar after it was reported in the media that half of their governmental staff members had a hand in human-trafficking. The bomb was dropped during an involved member's public speech that was midway through. It's suspected that a hacker group from the country had manipulated each vulnerable public advertising displays with explicit photos of the involved members' crimes. After 17 minutes, the speech giver had been found dead with a bullet wound to the head after their car was struck by a certain truck. The man who had committed the crime was taken into custody, however public support was overwhelming.
All over the globe, news of the scandal and the mass, violent riot of China's populace spread. During the chaos, countries' diplomats sneaked in deals, arms dealers pulled out of their contracts, laws changed and the phrase "We need a solution!" was shouted in every parliament around the world. Turns out the chaos of a singular super-power country wasn't the most important news. It had only attracted anarchy and interest. Under the shadow of the month long news updates, logs about the exhaustion of earth's resources peeked. The world had headed for certain doom.
Until Dr.Hauvellfen, PhD, originating from Switzerland, theorized a solution in the year 2022. Mass construction and a hope for a better future started hand in hand.
The policy for invading alternate dimensions were not fully outlined yet, however, massive conflicts were sure to be expected. Which is why, on the morning of June 14th, 2024, the world in which 9/11 had never happened, a rift in reality fissured throughout the coastline of Miami, Florida. Armed men and highly developed war instruments started seeping through the portal, causing a total and full chaos. One can only guess what happens in the years to come. | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | The portals were set up a month ago. Now, I would be leading a team of 60 men to this unknown dimension. It’s been over a year since fossil fuels ran out, If I came back successful I would be regarded as a hero.
“5 minutes till departure, sir.”
“Yes, yes, tell them to start if the portal.”
The Commander in Chief himself had given me an extensive list of possible resources to gather. The most preferable ones would be precious ores not present on our planet. As I looked at the bottom of this list I saw some quite disturbing things. I made a silent oath only to gather these if somehow the ores were not found.
I put on my specialty suit, gathered my team, and walked straight through that portal.
“Sir, I think we have a problem.”
“What is is.” I snapped at him, naturally annoyed.
“It seams as though we have not left Earth.”
My mind was racing, had we done all this preparation for nothing? Anger boiled up inside me and eventually I managed to stutter, “Of corse we made off Earth. Now, split up into you assigned groups and cover as much ground as possible.”
Hours past. The terrain looked awfully familiar and there were no ores to be found. I called everyone back to our central meeting place and told them the plan.
“Everyone look at number 26 on your list.”
“Humans!” One woman exclaimed, looking as though she was going to faint.
“No, no. Whales or whale type creatures and any living mammal over 120 pounds. That does include humans but also wildlife.”
“How can we be sure there even are creatures on this planet?”
“My group saw a town with some person north of her. They looked at lot like us, actually.”
“Great,” I replied, “Get 40 snipers to surround the town, 20 to load the bodies, I’ll get the truck.”
Most people muttered in agreement but then one man spoke out, “But, they’re people, just like us.”
I don’t know why I did what I did but somehow in the midst of my anger I had pulled out my firearm, and somehow my finger slipped. No one questioned me after that.
We headed out to the town and got in position, it was eerie how much they resembled us but I managed to push through any guilt still trapped inside me as I loaded that last of the butchered bodies. I still felt a little bad about leaving the kids all alone since they didn’t meet the weight requirements. They’re not even humans, so what did it matter.
We stayed there for weeks, shooting and killing and dragging and loading. After 2 and a half weeks I decided we had enough bodies to produce energy for about 3 years. We drove back to the portal site and drove the thousands of truck loads back.
“America welcomes you!” The president boomed over the speakers.
That night when I went home, I was eager to watch the news, eager to see my glorified face. But when I turned on the t.v, it was something quite different. The headline read “1.6 million Canadians Dead in American Assault.”
The newscaster spoke, “ Over the past weeks, towns in Canada have mysteriously been loosing their population aside from children. New security footage of one of these towns shows snipers in American uniforms going to work on their inhabitants. Canada has now declared war of the US because of there atrocities. We have reports bombs are being deployed over the US as we speak.”
“The...the.....port—“ I stuttered trying to wrap my mind around this
“We...n-n-never... left t—“
I heard the bomb but there was no time. I guess this is what I deserve. | The lines for the gas station were brutal. Sitting in the Texas heat with the windows down and the car turned off to conserve gas? Almost just as bad. Marcus Holliday - call me Marky, he would always say with a lopsided grin and a sly wink - sighed and patted the dash of the old Chevy. Dust swirled in through the window and he waved it away. "Bullshit," he mumbled to himself, glancing at his watch. It had been two hours.
The line was barely moving. People had stopped honking even. He wondered if employees would tell the customers if they were out of gas or if he was just expected to wait there until the next truck came in. If it ever came in. It's not like he could leave. He wouldn't make it far, not with the needle barely budging from empty when he turned on the car. It would sputter and maybe, just maybe, manage to turn on... He didn't want to think of the alternative.
He leaned back against the headrest, running a tan, calloused hand through that blonde mane that reached down to his shoulders. It was almost haircut time, that was for certain. Too damn hot. Had he been a little more aware - a little more present, maybe - he would have heard the commotion taking over at the front of the line. Instead he tapped along to the country song running through his mind, eyes closed and humming softly, unaccompanied by the radio or anything other than the occasional curse from a nearby car. The breeze should have been a warning if the commotion was not. Instead he just smiled to himself, breathing in the sweet smell of rancid cigarette smoke and diesel engines as the breeze turned into unseasonal gusts of wind.
Up ahead, a massive gash split the ground in the middle of the gas station, swallowing up the unfortunate cars who had seemed fortunate enough to get a couple drops of gas into their tanks. Black emerged. Not blacks like the kids who would bike up the street with their shirts off and Marky would greet them with a smile just like he would anybody else but the older folk would scowl and shake their heads. Black emerged as the very absence of anything else.
Cars and people and the meager supply of gas were all swallowed up at once. There was no belch after the great swallowing, no returning of the stolen goods or reimbursement for the damaged property. The gash just kept growing, and only when it began to consume the cars around Marky with a massive tear of metal and the screams of other passengers did he snap to attention.
"Oh, sheeeeeit," he drawled, picking up the wide-brimmed brown cowboy hat from the seat beside him and placing it carefully atop his head. He turned the key and the engine roared to life and he gave a sigh of relief. Just as quickly, it sputtered out. "Oh boy," Marky said with a nervous grin.
He reached for his holster, finding comfort in the smooth barrel of the pistol that was always by his side. Women might have come and gone from his life and his cats may have been fickle as one of his spruned mistresses but that gun was always there for him. "Not today," Marky said as he climbed out of his car. He barely had to aim - good thing since he hadn't had the gas to go to the range lately - as he pulled the trigger over and over and over again until the chamber was empty.
The black void seemed to tremble under the onslaught of bullets. Lights flashed inside as the bullets ricocheted and the black cracked blacker and little creatures emerged escaping the liquid rush that came from beneath the ground. "Halle-fucking-lujah," Marky said slowly, staring in awe as the unmistakeable rush of oil chased the twisted little creatures out of their dimension and into his. "We done hit the motherlode." He wasn't quite right, as he would soon find out. In fact, he was in far more danger than he thought. He reloaded, a nagging feeling telling him that those evil looking creatures weren't here to pay their respects to his old Chevy.
The nagging feeling was right. One of the creatures - its skin a deathly grey pallor stretched far too thin over sinewy arms and legs - jumped atop the hood of his car. "You're scratching that shit, bitch," Marky shouted at the devilish little monster. You didn't want to scratch Marky's car. That was a big no-no, as far as his no-nos went. He took careful aim, steadying his hand as chaos enveloped the world around him. "Sayonara, motherfucker," Marky growled and he fired three bullets into the creature. It collapsed and convulsed before melting into the hood of the Chevy, ruining it completely. There was silence. And then one by one the dozens of other creatures stopped tearing limb from limb the hapless passengers of the other cars and turned their attention towards Marky. "Well now I'm in a bit of a pickle," he mumbled to himself.
*****
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out more stories at /r/MatiWrites. Constructive criticism and advice are always appreciated! | |
[WP] The Earth has finally run out of fossil fuels to use as energy and, with the only other option being to turn to clean and renewable energy sources, the U.S. has decided to take drastic measures: trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels. | It would have been easier if the Crack had led to an uninhabited earth. It would have been easier, too, had the Crack not been made from the USA to the 'USA'. And easier still if the tribes on the other side, hadn't long ago united. If their technology, while different to ours, was not at least on par.
The Crack, although atomically unstable, had been a last gasp effort to save America's status on the world stage. It'd been formed in northern California, running three miles wide and two miles high. A light-impenetrable wall of void-black. The Mouth of God. We were to mine and pollute and -- if necessary -- destroy opposition on the other side. We'd sell the goods produced over there to the people in our world. Oil was a priority. We would not pry the Middle East's fingers off their grip on the market, but take a blade and slice them off.
Boots marched, and snipers silenced those unprepared on the other side. We weren't there to negotiate. Their reality was irrelevant to our needs. And our needs dictated our musts.
We set up our great hulking factories and machines, and sprawling defensive fortifications. Then we watched as our smoke choked their skies. Watched and waited.
We didn't have to wait long.
They came in thousands, an avalanche of angered men, women, and children.
The land ran red.
As a historian, it's my job to say where our timelines diverged, and how they achieved their eventual victory against us. It seems clear that the Europeans weren't the first to reach the Americas, in their reality. And by the time the Europeans did reach -- if ever -- the tiny machines inside the American bodies would have had no issues destroying plagues such as smallpox.
It also seems likely, from the little evidence we have and through DNA analysis, that it was the Egyptians who arrived first in South America. That the Roman Empire collapsed early and the Egyptian Empire spread and advanced, consuming Greek and Roman knowledge. Somewhere around our 400BC, the Egyptians arrived in South America and nurtured the nascent Mayan empire. These Mayans, in turn, were able to absorb the Incas and Aztecs and expand into central and northern America. They were not opposed, as they promised -- and delivered -- a better life for those that joined them.
Our battle for California lasted four years. For a time, it seemed as if the Mayans would capitulate. Their losses were great and their weapons primitive and the frequency of their attacks lessened. They were not a war like empire. But they wouldn't give up their battle: not for need of the land or for the resources, but for the sale of the planet itself that they saw us gutting. That they held so sacred, so high above all else.
The New Mayans primarily relied on sonic technologies for construction, and as the years dragged on, they re-purposed their technology. Soon, sound-waves would tear a man's head from his neck, would pick up and shake a tank to tiny pieces. As we were pushed back, we changed from bullets and bombs and gasses, to nukes. Nukes deep into their lands, that would send a message without contaminating the resources we were after. But even then, the two continents were vast, and the Mayan resources and populace almost infinite.
It became clear the USA couldn't afford a prolonged war. We had neither the manpower, the money, or the public support. We had fought for resources and lost most of our own in the attempt.
The land around the Crack, on both sides, was purposely contaminated by nuclear fallout for miles around, to stop the Mayans from coming through.
But still they come.
Still other Cracks appear around the world.
We are killing our Earth, and they will not allow it. | The lines for the gas station were brutal. Sitting in the Texas heat with the windows down and the car turned off to conserve gas? Almost just as bad. Marcus Holliday - call me Marky, he would always say with a lopsided grin and a sly wink - sighed and patted the dash of the old Chevy. Dust swirled in through the window and he waved it away. "Bullshit," he mumbled to himself, glancing at his watch. It had been two hours.
The line was barely moving. People had stopped honking even. He wondered if employees would tell the customers if they were out of gas or if he was just expected to wait there until the next truck came in. If it ever came in. It's not like he could leave. He wouldn't make it far, not with the needle barely budging from empty when he turned on the car. It would sputter and maybe, just maybe, manage to turn on... He didn't want to think of the alternative.
He leaned back against the headrest, running a tan, calloused hand through that blonde mane that reached down to his shoulders. It was almost haircut time, that was for certain. Too damn hot. Had he been a little more aware - a little more present, maybe - he would have heard the commotion taking over at the front of the line. Instead he tapped along to the country song running through his mind, eyes closed and humming softly, unaccompanied by the radio or anything other than the occasional curse from a nearby car. The breeze should have been a warning if the commotion was not. Instead he just smiled to himself, breathing in the sweet smell of rancid cigarette smoke and diesel engines as the breeze turned into unseasonal gusts of wind.
Up ahead, a massive gash split the ground in the middle of the gas station, swallowing up the unfortunate cars who had seemed fortunate enough to get a couple drops of gas into their tanks. Black emerged. Not blacks like the kids who would bike up the street with their shirts off and Marky would greet them with a smile just like he would anybody else but the older folk would scowl and shake their heads. Black emerged as the very absence of anything else.
Cars and people and the meager supply of gas were all swallowed up at once. There was no belch after the great swallowing, no returning of the stolen goods or reimbursement for the damaged property. The gash just kept growing, and only when it began to consume the cars around Marky with a massive tear of metal and the screams of other passengers did he snap to attention.
"Oh, sheeeeeit," he drawled, picking up the wide-brimmed brown cowboy hat from the seat beside him and placing it carefully atop his head. He turned the key and the engine roared to life and he gave a sigh of relief. Just as quickly, it sputtered out. "Oh boy," Marky said with a nervous grin.
He reached for his holster, finding comfort in the smooth barrel of the pistol that was always by his side. Women might have come and gone from his life and his cats may have been fickle as one of his spruned mistresses but that gun was always there for him. "Not today," Marky said as he climbed out of his car. He barely had to aim - good thing since he hadn't had the gas to go to the range lately - as he pulled the trigger over and over and over again until the chamber was empty.
The black void seemed to tremble under the onslaught of bullets. Lights flashed inside as the bullets ricocheted and the black cracked blacker and little creatures emerged escaping the liquid rush that came from beneath the ground. "Halle-fucking-lujah," Marky said slowly, staring in awe as the unmistakeable rush of oil chased the twisted little creatures out of their dimension and into his. "We done hit the motherlode." He wasn't quite right, as he would soon find out. In fact, he was in far more danger than he thought. He reloaded, a nagging feeling telling him that those evil looking creatures weren't here to pay their respects to his old Chevy.
The nagging feeling was right. One of the creatures - its skin a deathly grey pallor stretched far too thin over sinewy arms and legs - jumped atop the hood of his car. "You're scratching that shit, bitch," Marky shouted at the devilish little monster. You didn't want to scratch Marky's car. That was a big no-no, as far as his no-nos went. He took careful aim, steadying his hand as chaos enveloped the world around him. "Sayonara, motherfucker," Marky growled and he fired three bullets into the creature. It collapsed and convulsed before melting into the hood of the Chevy, ruining it completely. There was silence. And then one by one the dozens of other creatures stopped tearing limb from limb the hapless passengers of the other cars and turned their attention towards Marky. "Well now I'm in a bit of a pickle," he mumbled to himself.
*****
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out more stories at /r/MatiWrites. Constructive criticism and advice are always appreciated! | |
[WP] Write about any colour without using it's name. | The forest was painted with Envy. It twisted around branches, choking, climbing and grasping at the light that the canopy had long since blocked out. Dappled shadows were all that reached beneath now, and the vines lapped at them hungrily. It wasn't enough to grow, not quite—the leaves were dark and mottled from a distance, but up close the rot was visible. But they clung on, striving for sustenance, fueled by Envy.
The leaves above were Greed. Bright, vibrant, resplendent in their beauty. They rustled in the wind, light glinting off of their waxy surfaces, guzzling down the light and leaving only the drippings of their overindulgence to trickle down below. But that gluttony had a cost, as the older leaves began to bleach and fade. The waxy sheen wore off, and the flesh of the leaf burned slowly, shifting to an autumnal hue. In time, the leaf would fall, to be eagerly replaced by the one beneath with little regard for the fate of its predecessor, tumbling down to the forest floor far, far below, prey to its own Greed.
The bodies half-buried in the peat were Decay. All laid out in neat rows, the flesh had been partially covered by soil, then began to turn to soil itself. Small things, crawling things, began the long work of breaking down the once vital clay into clay of a more inert sort. And now, once-smooth flesh was bulging and festering, swirls of sickening fluid pooling in sacs beneath the skin before they burst, soaking the soil in a thick syrup of Decay.
The man in the forest had eyes of Ambition. He saw the Envy, and he sought to best it. He saw the Greed, and he sought to outreach it. He saw the Decay, and he sought to match it. His eyes twinkled with all the colors of the forest, and in them, the forest stirred. It would grow inside, grasping at him with Envy, and Greed, and Decay, and the inexorable urge to expand.
And when he left the forest, the forest would not leave him. | [Poem]
Sky, Water, Tears, Eyes
Morning Glory - planted in the earth and domed over sunburnt heads.
Lapis to the ancients, Kyanite trending now.
Something borrowed, but isn't the other lucky too?
Holy Virgin, but Manly! Joyful! buuut also Depressed.
Even the modern screen of death gets in on the action.
A lot of baggage for one sapphire shade. | |
[WP] Write about any colour without using it's name. | "Damn, Cherry, you wanna know about colors? How'm I s'posed to explain colors to a blind girl? Okay, okay, for you, baby, I'll give it my best shot."
"Well, that one's an easy one. That's the color of the sky and the sea. It's like sweeping sorrow and infinite possibility. When you're depressed, so you go for a late-night swim. That's the color that you can do anything with."
"Ooh, that one's a bit harder. That one is like royalty and fancy stuff. And...... Uh, eggplants, I guess? It's gaudy and can seem kinda pretentious if overdone, but ain't no color better for showing just how much better you are than everyone else. That's the color for when you come into the room and you know damn well you're the finest looking queen in the room."
"Well, that one gets a bad rap. Sure, it's the one that's all shadowy and mysterious, and all the bad guys dress in it. It's like a voice calling in the night. But it's basically every other color combined. It's the end-all of color. You might say that's the one you see."
"But I think this is the one that you see. The absence of color. Purity, beauty, untouched perfection. just the endless void, stretched in every direction. Every color starts here, and expands outward."
"That's the color of life, Cherry. When they say, 'Put some color in your cheeks', that's the color they're talking 'bout. And the color of girls, for some stupid reason. Wasn't ever a color that could explain an entire gender. It's also the cutest color, of course. That's the color for the ribbons they put on baby girls."
"Now that's the prettiest color. Know why? 'Cuz it's your color. Your hair. Your name. Your aura, baby. It's like making love by a raging fire. The color of volcanoes and motorcycles and flaming hot passion. Like the love I feel for you, baby. The color of us." | [Poem]
Sky, Water, Tears, Eyes
Morning Glory - planted in the earth and domed over sunburnt heads.
Lapis to the ancients, Kyanite trending now.
Something borrowed, but isn't the other lucky too?
Holy Virgin, but Manly! Joyful! buuut also Depressed.
Even the modern screen of death gets in on the action.
A lot of baggage for one sapphire shade. | |
[WP] You get a job in a school for superheros with four houses. Heroes, Sidekicks, Mentors and Anti - Heroes. It is your job to choose who goes in which house. | "Mentor!" I proclaimed. The student in front of me beamed wide and turned around, intending to head down the stage. "Wait, I wasn't finished," I called out, stopping the soon-to-be-Mentor.
I pulled out a thick binder of legal documents, flipped to the relevant portions, and read in the bored voice of someone who had read the same words for far too many times.
"It is my duty to warn you that Mentors have an approximately 90% chance of dying, disappearing, or otherwise being removed after they have lost their usefulness. The Academy for Aspiring Superheroes is not responsible for any occupational hazards, including torture or murder by supervillains, uncontrollable impulses to sacrifice yourself to save the Hero, et cetera, and will not reimburse you for any damages incurred. If you wish to purchase life insurance, please note that most insurance companies do not offer such insurance plans to Mentors, and those that do have prohibitively expensive prices. You may find out more at our Superhero Administrative Office."
I set down the binder with a loud *thunk.* "Next!"
A young, skinny, average-looking teenager - clearly a Sidekick - walked up to the stage. I sighed and picked up the binder again.
"You have been designated as a Sidekick. It is my duty to warn you that Sidekicks have a moderately high chance to be killed off, kidnapped, or otherwise inconvenienced to act as motivation for the Hero. The Academy for Aspiring Superheroes is not responsible for any occupational hazards..." | “Next!” My monotone voice only increasing in volume, as it echoed across the room through the door. I had already been at this for 5 hours and it was becoming increasingly annoying to sort these wannabe heroes out. The door flung open and a cheery eyed boy stepped in, his bright colored suit that made me want to gouge my eyes out. “Sidekick. Next!” I stamped his paper and held it out to him not meeting his eyes.
“Wait sir there must be some mistake, I should be in the Hero course… not the sidekick one.” His youthful eyes made something inside me snap just for a moment.
“You aren’t ready to be a Hero kid; my word is final, and I think you should be in the sidekick category IF you should even be in this program at all. Next!” He walked forward and took his paper, keeping his eyes on the floor as he walked out of the room. “Man, these kids all think they’re entitled to a Hero position just because they have a power or two, they don’t realize that to be a real hero requires sacrifice that they aren’t able to give yet.” My partner just stared at me like I was crazy as the door opened and a kid in all black slipped in with a sword attached to his back. “Here we go again…” | |
[WP] You're on a first date with someone you really like, and the topic of Internet arguments comes up. As they give details on a long, pointless one they'd had on Reddit recently, you realize it had been you on the other side of that fight. | “Hang on, you got into an argument over liver?” I asked her.
“Yeah. Someone’s AskReddit post asked for the worst food, and I said liver, and this random a hole comes in and says liver is delicious, and that I must not have a proper sense of taste. Next thing I know, I’m replying to tell him how I hate the smell and the feel of it in my mouth, and then things just start getting chaotic. At some point it became like a personal war, and I wasn’t perfectly innocent myself, but man that guy was awful. I mean, what do you think about that?”
I didn’t respond right away. You see, I had a thought or two about it, most,y because I loved liver, but also because I was there. I mean, who doesn’t love liver? It’s delicious. Heck, I decided to go here for our first date because they serve the best liver. We’d been talking for a while, and I thought we were on the same page about so many things, but then I come to find out she’s the woman who attacked me for my love of liver?! Based solely on Reddit karma, she won, but my arguments were so much better. All she could say over and over was that it was gross or stinky. I used figurative language. I realize now there can be no second date, and I need my revenge, mainly I just need ti avenge liver. First though, I have to respond to her question.
“I mean, I’m actually a fan of liver, especially from here, but that guy sounds awful. I mean, if you got nasty it was only in self defense, but that guy was just doing it because what, you didn’t like the same food as him? Crazy.”
“Yeah it is, but... you like liver? You might be the only person other than that jerk that does.”
“I really think it tastes good. You don’t mind if I order any do you? It’s the only reason I come here, and I always order extra to take home.”
“Of course you can. I wouldn’t stop you from eating anything unless I was allergic.”
It was at that point the waiter came over to take our orders, she ordered a burger, and I got a liver with four in a box.
As the waiter left my mortal enemy looked at me in shock. “It’s fine for you to want liver, but four to take home?! That’s crazy! How will you eat that much?!” she exclaimed.
“By cooking it and putting it in my mouth.” I replied as sarcastically as the best character from a sitcom.
“You don’t got a be a wise-guy about it. Just a question.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry. I’ve got a couple friends coming over for dinner tomorrow, so we’re all gonna have dinner.”
“You know other people that eat liver?!”
“Well sure, it’s not that unpopular.”
At that moment our food arrived, and I enacted my genius, childish plan. I began to eat my liver, tearing into it like an animal, sticking it in her face for her to try some, chewing with my mouth open, making her suffer. Then, as she opened her mouth for a bite, I expertly launched a piece of liver into her mouth. Before she could say anything, I took one of the two levers and threw it on her food, and then threw the other on her nice dress.
“What on God’s green Earth is wrong with you?! I thought you were really nice, but you’re just an a hole!” She screamed at me.
I smirked and corrected her “I’m not an a hole. I’m the one and only a hole sweetheart. Enjoy your liver.”
I grabbed my two livers and walked out the door. | \[Poem\]
Cursing, grunting, fingers flying
brutalized keyboard dying;
I preserve, protect, restore
Reddit, the Internet’s door.
Trolls, spammers, karma-whores
Righteous vitriol forth pours.
Until my bleeding eyes behold
a vapid comment granted gold.
Despite their intent to rattle
I gird myself for scared battle
Facts, ideas, reason ring
Until we turn to name-calling.
Ever hotter flames we fan
ending swiftly in a ban.
Now unexpectedly I see
The wretched troll across from me.
Suddenly they wink and grin
“Let’s continue till I win.” | |
[WP] You are a medieval knight that, through some circumstance or another, found themselves thrown forwards in time. Somehow you arrived at an ongoing Renaissance Fair, and discover that everyone is doing everything wrong. | “What are you doing?!” My voice ripped through my throat as the maiden walked through the field in pants. “You are neither a knight nor a stable boy!” However the louder I yelled the more aggressive she became. Her hand lacked the normal wooden stick you’d find in the palm of a kitchen witch and instead held a sword.
Suddenly more appeared, they too wore trousers! Surely the king would not have them roaming the fields dressed as his own.
Fearing wenches for the first time in my life I fled, and far! Stumbling into the cobblestone roads were children and oh my were they sticky! Their putrid little fingers no longer covered in soot and instead sugar. Even the frowns once plastered on their faces were replaced with unearned smiles.
As if the sword laden magpies weren’t enough, a glowing speaking object hangs in the hands of all those around me, men, women, and children. Their eyes are plastered to its’ glow.
I need not know what hell I’ve entered for I know they practice the darkest of witchcraft! I pray the lord take me from this vile land! | I awoke from my dream in a grassy area with structures built like a play at the theater. There was a battle but no one was getting hurt. A joust took place and both riders survived. Many attendees wore footwear from what I would guess was another planet. Some women wore far too little that I am accustomed to seeing in an outdoor setting. I do not know the name of this town that in which I have found myself, but I would very much like to return to my usual home. This is a Hell I have not dreamed of and would not wish upon my worst enemy. | |
[WP]Write a sentimental, heartwarming story. Then cram as many product placements as you can | It was Valentine's Day, and that meant buying Edible Arragment fruit baskets and Toblerone chocolate for my girlfriend to celebrate. We were recently engaged, having got down on one knee and offering a Tiffany ring.
I got out of bed and started my day with a shower. I used Dove shampoo and conditioner, followed by Nivea body soap. I used Old Spice deodorant and spray afterwards because I wanted to smell manly on this special day.
My girlfriend was already downstairs cooking breakfast. I could smell the sausages and scrambled eggs cooking in our Copper Chef non fry stick pan. A cup of Folgers coffee awaited me on the table, and I sat down and took a small sip. I smiled to my girlfriend as she cooked, and she smiled back. She was beautiful, wearing her Hedly and Bennet apron. I smiled, life was good. | When I was 15, I was diagnosed with depression. It crushed me, because now all of my reasons to be sad made sense. I was lost, didn't know who to talk to, until I realised that I had friends, family, and most of all...
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[WP] You're a werewolf. Your significant other is a dog trainer and they just aren't having any of your shit. | "Good girl," he says, his fingers stroking through my hair, while the change comes over me.
Not even he can make it stop hurting, when the cramps that started in my belly twist through me, when the muscles clench and the pain rolls through my bones and things \*split\*, things \*come apart\* and \*come together\* in new ways, different ways, terrible ways. Don't talk to me about dark chocolate and 'that time of the month', motherfucker. You don't know shit.
Danny? Danny knows his shit. He knows me.
Can you even imagine, remembering what this used to feel like? Out in a fucking Ohio cornfield, or out behind some dumpster in Boise? The pain, the hurt, the vulnerability? That volatile mix of terror and hunger, when your brain shuts down and it's all guts demanding to be fed. Nothing left in the world but things that are threats, and things that are food.
Now I nestle my cheek and my muzzle against his thigh, and I close my eyes, and let the change come. Danny's got me. His fingers through my hair are a promise, slow and calm. Slow and calm. The pain will pass. I'm home. This is my bedroom, and it smells like us. I'll remember that smell, in a few minutes. I'll trust that smell. And him.
Danny used to be a monk. He even had a tonsure cut. It was horrible. A real, honest-to-God catholic monk, before the calling fell away.
"I think God trusts me to be off-leash now," he'd told me coyly, on our first date. Three years and a wedding ring ago.
But the monks of New Skete and the life there had been good to him.
The moon rises, and the pain comes, and it goes.
We're going to go for a walk tonight. He'll keep me to heel; and out of our trash, and away from the neighbour's cat. I can smell the ground beef treats he's got baking in the oven downstairs; we both learned quickly, as it turns out, I'm a *very* food-motivated werewolf. Hunting? Chasing? Sure, that's *fun*, but that box of meatballs has my name on it.
I used to run wild, hungry, terrified, looking for a pack I knew I needed, and would never find. Lone wolves starve. Lone wolves die.
Danny's got me.
My last fleeting memory of humanity is the feeling of his hand sliding my wedding ring off, so it won't cut my finger when it changes.
He trusts me off-leash now, too. | She had taken a while to find. The ad had been for people who must love dogs, but also know how to control them. Several had come, seeing the good pay and curious about the pup they needed to train. None of them had "it". They weren't up to the task. That was no problem though, he could afford to go through the process of finding the right person.
Before in life he had been the major CEO of a tech company. And he still would be if he hadn't been afflicted with this curse a few weeks ago. He was still young and ambitious, so it was a shock that such an influential person step down from his company. He had plenty of money, so people just assumed he would retire and live the leisurely life of a young bachelor billionaire. But my oh my how they would be wrong. He didn't want to step down, but he just couldn't focus anymore.
Unlike what he had come to know from media and books his affliction wasn't just set on at the full moon. He transformed every night. The moon's fullness just changed his amount of strength.
He knew the ad was a long shot, I mean how many dog trainers are there in a big city, hundreds, thousands? Oh well, he would find the right one eventually, and eventually he did.
He explained the situation to her, and like many of the others before her she had her disbeliefs. But she was ready for anything, she had grown up tough and strong. She was no nonsense, and had no desire to be mauled by a vicious dog if what this crazy man was spouting was true. Plus he was paying well, she could deal with it.
She took precautions though, she had him chained up. He seemed to like that. Maybe it was just that someone was taking him seriously. And then she waited...and sure enough as the sun went down the young man was no longer in front of her, but a shaggy, vicious looking, mongrel. He would have stood tall but his chains kept him semi crouched. He snarled at her and raged against the chains, but there was nothing he could do.
She remained calm and unflinching. She had dealt with vicious dogs before. They just need...dominance. That was after all why she was so good at her job, that was what she enjoyed. She did nothing that night, nothing to antagonize the beast further but just waited him out. Until when the sun rose and he turned back into the young man.
He was grateful to see that she was still alive, and not running scared for her life. He had hope she might be the one. She informed him that tomorrow would be different, but he would still be in chains, and he agreed.
And as the next night came, it was indeed different. She chained him up and let the change begin. He immediately let out a blood curdling howl and snarl, only to be swatted across the nose. He was taken aback, furious. He growled, and was met with another swat on the nose. He torn at his chains and barred his large white fangs, and was met with a whip on the legs and swat at the nose. What was happening...his rage continued to grow as she swatted him.
She reached into her bag and pulled out a whip meant for especially aggressive dogs. And swatted the hind quarters of the beast. He snapped at her and then pulled back...like he was asking for it again. So she hit him again, and the same thing happened. He was enjoying this. And it showed, like any dog when excited it showed. She kept at it, whipping in different spots and scolding him like any bad dog, and as his rage subsided his excitement grew. Soon enough he had to take care of himself and slept the rest of the night.
She understood now...must love dogs. Several weeks passed of their "training", and now she showed up in full dominatrix leather, with whips and chains. The she and the young man had never been so happy. | |
[WP] You open the front door to leave and see the streets of New York, a weird sight given your house is in Berlin. You close and open the door: Barcelona. You do so again: Moscow. Curious, you try one last time: Your house is on the other side of the road. Your hand rests on the handle. | I grab the umbrella on my way to the door after I saw that it is raining outside that morning. I am already running late for work, and I will be demoted in the sales department if I am late again. I grab my keys and open the door to find a scenery that is not my neighborhood.
I am hearing the rush of commuters in every direction. I look down the street to see a large crossroads filled with advertisements. There are people coming to and fro, including a crowd of tourists wearing “I LOVE NEW YORK” shirts. *New York?* *Maybe someone’s playing a ridiculous joke on me.* I close the door at this point, hoping that I will be back in my neighborhood and able to get to work.
I open the door again, and I am struck by the warm sun. I look ahead and see numerous stalls filled with all sorts of goods up and down the narrow aisles. The bright colors, the wonderful smell of spices and herbs reminds me back when I was in Marrakesh combing through souks. If I were not late already, I would step through and play whatever game this was, but I must get to work. I shut the door once again.
I open and close the door a half dozen more times and I am transported to Moscow, Geneva, Sydney, and even Tokyo. These are all places that I have been at some point in my life. I do not understand what is happening, but then I open the door once more.
“Don’t keep the door open all day. You’re letting the heat inside,” a familiar voice says in front of me. *My father*. But he’s been dead for fifteen years now. There was no way he was there. I look ahead, and I recognize the scenery. I am at the porch of the first house my parents owned on the French countryside. I do not see my father’s face though.
I look down at my hands, and I notice the keys that I had originally had in my hand are not there. The umbrella is no longer in my hands. That is because my hands are no longer corporeal. It is at that moment I step through the door to the afterlife to join my father. | [Poem]
A culture out reflected
Outdoors different from expected
Though these places are respected
Fantasy’s made this door infected
Curiosity led to a phenomenon inspected
The handle held was how I experimented
Until the road mirrored made the world defected
And so my peace of mind was intercepted | |
[WP] You're a famous pizza chef. One day you create your Magnum opus dish. However, someone shortly after comes up to you, points a gun at your head, and whispers "no one out-pizzas the hut" | This had to be it.
It’s been 648 permutations of the same 9 ingredients since the first doughy failure that I fed to my German Shepard Sprinkles. Flour, salt, yeast, sugar, water, tomatoes, mozzarella, gouda, pepperoni, this isn’t rocket science! Turns out there are over 42 trillion possible combinations of these ingredients in any reasonable proportions. Just when I have my flour to water ratio just right, I wake up to an especially humid day and my dough is too wet. Or the batch of pepperoni is too acidic and the whole thing ends up tasting like a Little Caesar’s on bath salts.
Ever since I found the crumpled recipe written on a half torn napkin in the men’s room of the pizzeria I haven’t been able to get it out of my head. I should’ve thrown it away a long time ago, it's in all likelihood just some drunk college kid’s attempt to copy the shop’s design. This has at least kept me busy when I finish my calculus homework and between customers.
I think I’ve finally nailed it though. 4 ½ cups of flour, 2 ¼ tbsp of yeast, 60 oz of water, ¾ tps of salt. 7 ½ medium Roma tomatoes sauced, 2 cups mozzarella, 1 ½ cups Gouda, and 64 grams of pepperoni spaced ¼” apart. Bake at 450 for 12 minutes.
As I watch the pie travel through the tired conveyor belt oven, I hear an unexpected “ding!”as the shop door opens.
A customer this late on a Tuesday night? Serves me right for not flipping the closed/open sign this near to close. Oh well, at least they can test my latest creation.
As I can see the edge of the crust slowly poke its way through the oven I turn to greet my late night guest. He’s a large man wearing a dark oily trench coat. The red brimmed hat he’s wearing, along with the burnt out fluorescent bulb above us obscures his face.
“Not making anything fresh after this one. But if you don’t mind plain pepperoni you’re in luck.”
The pie hits the backstop of the conveyor belt and I pull it onto a tray to rest. The man doesn’t say anything, just nods and holds up his index finger indicating he wants just one.
“Just came out, give it a minute.” I say. “Anything to drink?”
The man shakes his head no. “Fucking mute….” I mumble to myself as I walk to the door and flip the sign to “closed” for the night. Looking through the shop door I notice that its dark on the city block, several street lamps are off on in the stores vicinity and There don’t seem to be any people or cars outside. Odd, I think to myself. Even at 3am on a weeknight it's usually not this quiet.
I move back to the counter and try to strike up a conversation with my latest pizza test subject. It’s been a slow night and if I’m going to be here I might as well try to enjoy the company.
“Weird how the lights are out. See anything that might be causing it?”
“Sometimes lights just go out.” The man responds. His head is down, focused on an abstract spot on the bar top.
When you work at a pizzeria in a college town its normal to get your fair share of drunken weirdos late into the night. Since the bars close at 2am we stay open till 3 to get the hungry frat guys to come pick up pies they’ll eat one slice of before passing out at the house. The guy in front of me doesn’t look like a frat jock you’d expect at this time, but there’s plenty of alcoholics in the city that need to eat too. I’m fine if he just wants to eat his one slice in silence and go home, the kitchen needs cleaning anyway.
This guy doesn’t appear drunk at all though. He has an unusual laser focus on some nondescript spot on the bar that keeps his head down, still hiding his face. For a moment I consider the possibility that he’s here to rob me, and... fuck the drawer is full of cash, Tony’s going to be pissed as hell if I give it up. Then I come to my senses and realize if he’s here to rob me he’d have done it by now and not bother with ordering food,
“Yeah...I mean it's just strange is all.” I respond turning to the pie and cutting it lazily into 8 slices. I serve a slice onto a plate and slide it over to the mysterious pizza patreon. “Crushed pepper? Parmesan?” I ask.
Again he doesn’t say anything, he just shakes his head as he lifts the triangular dish to his mouth.
I move back to the oven to turn it off and start cleaning only to find the oven’s off already. Must have hit the switch already. I bend down and open the cabinet below the counter and pull a rag out and start scrubbing the counter tops.
“How is it?”
“It’s different. It’s never tasted like this before.”
“Trying a new recipe tonight.” You’re the first to try it. Let me know what you think?”
The man doesn’t respond but rather keeps on eating. I continue to clean up the bar while he finishes, want to get to sleep at a semi reasonable time tonight. When the man finishes his slice I start to ask him again how he liked it, but I perish the thought. I realize I haven’t even tried it myself yet. I cut a slice for myself and fold it New York style and bite off a piece. Suddenly my mouth is flooded with a sensation I’ve never felt before. Sweet and savory. Spicy but not overpowering. Crispy but not crunchy. It’s a flavor never experienced.
I’ve done it. The perfect pizza.
“Dude, tell me this isn’t the greatest pizza you’ve ever tried!”
The man lifts his head to respond and I notice the shop lights are flickering. Not the whole shop, just the ones in the back. No. The lights by the bar are out. The window next to me lets in enough moonlight to still make out the figure in front of me, well the outline anyway. It’s kind of fuzzy. Not like taking out your contact lenses fuzzy, more like fuzzy on a 90’s VHS version of a movie you’ve rewound too many times.
“You shouldn’t have made it.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? I remark. “Whatever its past close and I think the breaker box shit the bed, so it’s time to go bud.”
I move to take his plate away and he grabs my hand. A tingling sensation shoots through my arm. Cold, like morphine, its numbing but I can feel his hand and it's burning hot. The bar lights return to a flicker, faster than before.
“Get the hell off me!” I exclaim. “Get the fuck out, bar’s closed. Get out!”
Finally I notice his face, he doesn’t have one. It’s black, darkness, a void. At first I thought it was just the lack of light, but it's clear now, above the shoulders and below the hat is a black hole of nothing. The sensation that started in my arm I can feel spread through my chest now, it's a freezing, icy river. Where his hand grasps my wrist is still hot, no, burning, its burning hot now. I can smell the burning flesh and hair on my arms, but still the icy numbness floods my body and I can’t feel anything but the scorching of my wrist. The grip tightens and so does the burning. Now I can see his his clenched hand is working its way to the bone in my wrist. I open my mouth to scream but instead I fall over. My legs are completely numb now and can’t support my body.
The man finally lets go of my wrist, letting me collapse on the tiled floor. I can’t see him as he moves to circle behind the bar but I can hear him. It’s not footsteps but rather the absence of sound from his position, like nothing’s there.
Laying on the floor, I feel my eyelids close involuntarily and can sense the man, or being, stand over me. His face moves close to mine. I don’t know how to describe how I know his face is inches from mine, there’s no smell, no sound, only a void from where his position is. My conscious is fading now. It’s like going to sleep, almost peaceful except for the terrifying feeling of what’s about to come. Before I drift off the man moves to my ear. I can feel a mouth, or whatever is most like a mouth open and the last thing I hear before my senses depart is a whisper.
“No one out pizzas the hut.” | My name is Leo and I have just announced my perfect pie at my joint, the Lil Sicilly. Located in Columbus, Ohio, Lil Sicilly is authentic wood fired pizza. The perfect pie has just the right amount of everything. So I am celebrating with a cold brewski, and out of nowhere there is a gun being shoved in the back of my head. Then, in the raspiest whisper, I hear "no one out-pizzas the hut. Erase all your records of the perfect pie, and take down that post. Now!" By this point my hands are held high as I reply, "sure boss no doubt." I am still at my desk, so I delete the post. Then I make a show of deleting the recipe. I say, "that was it." Then the gun slides around the side of my head. First the suppressor, then the glock, and finally the black gloved hand. Just like an assassin. The hand motions me to move against my office wall, reinforced with a muffled, "face in." Before I face in, I sneak a peak to see a large man in a balaclava. Head to toe in mottled dark gray and blue. Perfect urban camouflage. Shit. He slams me into the wall and puts a rag of chloroform over my mouth. When I came to there was a note and one last slice of perfect pie on my desk. The note said, "took your back-up, thanks for the recipe. Cops and your dead. P.s. we're watching. P.p.s. enjoy your last slice." So now I'm crying over pizza. Rip. | |
[WP] You're a famous pizza chef. One day you create your Magnum opus dish. However, someone shortly after comes up to you, points a gun at your head, and whispers "no one out-pizzas the hut" | My sigh is long and speaks a thousand emotions but not one of fear. I place my hands on the kitchen island. If I make it through this evening I am going to Flay my Sous chef. The gunman notices my lack of fear and his firearm trembles ever so slightly,. His hand shakes more as I turn to face him.
His face blanches like an over done cauliflower in the heat of my gaze.
" Son, do you think that you the first shit swizzle whose pulled a gun and threatened me in the name of One of the three? " I say with icy tone that I have not told allows me to not be heard in my kitchen without yelling.
Before he could respond I close the distance breaking his nose with a carefully placed palm strike, the next blow is a savagely placed soccer to his nether regions, the crunch and his nearly ultrasonic yip of pain was satisfying enough that I almost wanted to kick him again, but I didn't have time for that.
I picked up his fallen gun and two loud reports echo through my kitchen.
My Sous chef and kitchen crew come charging through the kitchen doors, she's covered in Blood and her bullet proof Chefs' jacket is sporting several new holes, my whole crew is various states of injury, but none of worse for wear.
" Get this trash out of my kitchen and get this place prepped we have dinner service in an hour,"
The kitchen crew erupted in course of "Yes, Chef!".
I sigh again and turn back to my pizza on the corner.
My Sous is standing next to me
" I guess it's time to come out of the shadows."
"Sir?"
" It's time for me to end the Pizza Wars.. And this pie is the Key ć | My name is Leo and I have just announced my perfect pie at my joint, the Lil Sicilly. Located in Columbus, Ohio, Lil Sicilly is authentic wood fired pizza. The perfect pie has just the right amount of everything. So I am celebrating with a cold brewski, and out of nowhere there is a gun being shoved in the back of my head. Then, in the raspiest whisper, I hear "no one out-pizzas the hut. Erase all your records of the perfect pie, and take down that post. Now!" By this point my hands are held high as I reply, "sure boss no doubt." I am still at my desk, so I delete the post. Then I make a show of deleting the recipe. I say, "that was it." Then the gun slides around the side of my head. First the suppressor, then the glock, and finally the black gloved hand. Just like an assassin. The hand motions me to move against my office wall, reinforced with a muffled, "face in." Before I face in, I sneak a peak to see a large man in a balaclava. Head to toe in mottled dark gray and blue. Perfect urban camouflage. Shit. He slams me into the wall and puts a rag of chloroform over my mouth. When I came to there was a note and one last slice of perfect pie on my desk. The note said, "took your back-up, thanks for the recipe. Cops and your dead. P.s. we're watching. P.p.s. enjoy your last slice." So now I'm crying over pizza. Rip. | |
[WP] You're a famous pizza chef. One day you create your Magnum opus dish. However, someone shortly after comes up to you, points a gun at your head, and whispers "no one out-pizzas the hut" | I grinned devilishly as I swept my hat off my head, using the distraction to size up my opponent. *HA!* I thought to myself. This was going to be all too easy.
“No one does what?” I asked. “I'm a little hard of hearing.”
He repeated louder, “No one out pizzas the hut.”
“I'm sorry, what?”
“OUT PIZZAS THE HUT!” He shouted.
The timer dinged, and I whipped the oven door open. In just the space of a second, I pulled out my gun, and loaded the freshly made pizza inside, though I had to ignore the burns on my fingers. Without any hesitation, I shot the man dead with pepperoni and sausage, complete with extra cheese.
“Whoops,” I said, blowing tomato sauce out of the nozzle. “Wrong sort of magnum. Guess I have to go back to school.” | My name is Leo and I have just announced my perfect pie at my joint, the Lil Sicilly. Located in Columbus, Ohio, Lil Sicilly is authentic wood fired pizza. The perfect pie has just the right amount of everything. So I am celebrating with a cold brewski, and out of nowhere there is a gun being shoved in the back of my head. Then, in the raspiest whisper, I hear "no one out-pizzas the hut. Erase all your records of the perfect pie, and take down that post. Now!" By this point my hands are held high as I reply, "sure boss no doubt." I am still at my desk, so I delete the post. Then I make a show of deleting the recipe. I say, "that was it." Then the gun slides around the side of my head. First the suppressor, then the glock, and finally the black gloved hand. Just like an assassin. The hand motions me to move against my office wall, reinforced with a muffled, "face in." Before I face in, I sneak a peak to see a large man in a balaclava. Head to toe in mottled dark gray and blue. Perfect urban camouflage. Shit. He slams me into the wall and puts a rag of chloroform over my mouth. When I came to there was a note and one last slice of perfect pie on my desk. The note said, "took your back-up, thanks for the recipe. Cops and your dead. P.s. we're watching. P.p.s. enjoy your last slice." So now I'm crying over pizza. Rip. | |
[WP] You're a famous pizza chef. One day you create your Magnum opus dish. However, someone shortly after comes up to you, points a gun at your head, and whispers "no one out-pizzas the hut" | *"No-one outpizzas the Hut."*
I freeze immediately. My magnum opus was fresh out of the oven, cheese still bubbling, releasing it's beautiful aroma into the air. Out of the corner of my eye I see a red fedora.
"Step away from the pizza."
I gingerly stepped away from the heat of the oven, the barrel of the gun still pressed into the back of my skull. The floor still has a light dusting of flour. The pressure of the gun releases.
*BANG!*
"ME PIZZA!" I scream. I don't hear myself, my ears still ringing from the gunshot this close to my head.
The perfect crust, the perfect base, now only scraps on the floor. The heavenly aroma of my kitchen now replaced with the foul tang of gunsmoke. Something in my heart hardens, like frozen pizza. I would have my revenge.
"Obviously, I can't leave you here," the pizza destroyer said in a low voice, "but the Hut can use people like you. Move!"
I stumbled towards the door. I could hear a motorcycle revving outside. I looked around desperately for something, anything! There was pizza dough rising on the table in a glass bowl, pans hanging from racks, nothing I could use now.
There it was - a pizza peel. I lunged to the side, grabbing the wooden shaft and swinging the paddle shaped head at the pizza destroyer. He ducked, barely. The red fedora that had been covering his face in shadow was sent flying across the kitchen.
He fired, and the bullet ricocheted off a pan hanging near my head. He was fast, but I was a chef. Using my mustache to sense the air currents I used the pizza peel to lift the glass bowl of rising dough and catapulted it at my assailant.
The glass shattered on impact throwing the gun out of his hand and covering his face in sticky dough. Too sticky, I needed to work on that next time.
"The Hut... will have revenge!" The man groaned.
I drive the peel down into the man's groin. "I will be a-ready." | My name is Leo and I have just announced my perfect pie at my joint, the Lil Sicilly. Located in Columbus, Ohio, Lil Sicilly is authentic wood fired pizza. The perfect pie has just the right amount of everything. So I am celebrating with a cold brewski, and out of nowhere there is a gun being shoved in the back of my head. Then, in the raspiest whisper, I hear "no one out-pizzas the hut. Erase all your records of the perfect pie, and take down that post. Now!" By this point my hands are held high as I reply, "sure boss no doubt." I am still at my desk, so I delete the post. Then I make a show of deleting the recipe. I say, "that was it." Then the gun slides around the side of my head. First the suppressor, then the glock, and finally the black gloved hand. Just like an assassin. The hand motions me to move against my office wall, reinforced with a muffled, "face in." Before I face in, I sneak a peak to see a large man in a balaclava. Head to toe in mottled dark gray and blue. Perfect urban camouflage. Shit. He slams me into the wall and puts a rag of chloroform over my mouth. When I came to there was a note and one last slice of perfect pie on my desk. The note said, "took your back-up, thanks for the recipe. Cops and your dead. P.s. we're watching. P.p.s. enjoy your last slice." So now I'm crying over pizza. Rip. | |
[WP] You're a famous pizza chef. One day you create your Magnum opus dish. However, someone shortly after comes up to you, points a gun at your head, and whispers "no one out-pizzas the hut" | I grinned devilishly as I swept my hat off my head, using the distraction to size up my opponent. *HA!* I thought to myself. This was going to be all too easy.
“No one does what?” I asked. “I'm a little hard of hearing.”
He repeated louder, “No one out pizzas the hut.”
“I'm sorry, what?”
“OUT PIZZAS THE HUT!” He shouted.
The timer dinged, and I whipped the oven door open. In just the space of a second, I pulled out my gun, and loaded the freshly made pizza inside, though I had to ignore the burns on my fingers. Without any hesitation, I shot the man dead with pepperoni and sausage, complete with extra cheese.
“Whoops,” I said, blowing tomato sauce out of the nozzle. “Wrong sort of magnum. Guess I have to go back to school.” | My sigh is long and speaks a thousand emotions but not one of fear. I place my hands on the kitchen island. If I make it through this evening I am going to Flay my Sous chef. The gunman notices my lack of fear and his firearm trembles ever so slightly,. His hand shakes more as I turn to face him.
His face blanches like an over done cauliflower in the heat of my gaze.
" Son, do you think that you the first shit swizzle whose pulled a gun and threatened me in the name of One of the three? " I say with icy tone that I have not told allows me to not be heard in my kitchen without yelling.
Before he could respond I close the distance breaking his nose with a carefully placed palm strike, the next blow is a savagely placed soccer to his nether regions, the crunch and his nearly ultrasonic yip of pain was satisfying enough that I almost wanted to kick him again, but I didn't have time for that.
I picked up his fallen gun and two loud reports echo through my kitchen.
My Sous chef and kitchen crew come charging through the kitchen doors, she's covered in Blood and her bullet proof Chefs' jacket is sporting several new holes, my whole crew is various states of injury, but none of worse for wear.
" Get this trash out of my kitchen and get this place prepped we have dinner service in an hour,"
The kitchen crew erupted in course of "Yes, Chef!".
I sigh again and turn back to my pizza on the corner.
My Sous is standing next to me
" I guess it's time to come out of the shadows."
"Sir?"
" It's time for me to end the Pizza Wars.. And this pie is the Key ć | |
[WP] You just died. While in purgatory you hear that you will be send in a room with all the people you caused pain or suffering. After waiting in your room for 2 hours nobody is coming. You find that odd because you were the most efficient assassin of the CIA. | "Hello, I'm your guide for this phase. May I know your name?"
"Call me Ghost."
"Well, Mr. Ghost ... "
"No, just Ghost."
"Are you insulted by the title?"
"The title assumes that Ghost is my real identity."
"Well, at this phase in one's afterlife, use of the real identity is the norm.... I see. Well there are always exceptions. Come along Ghost, we'll get you onto your next stop." They start 'walking', hey, their legs move and they move with them, but a lot faster. What else would you call it? "May I know what your occupation was? From your *ahem* name, I would guess that you were in one of the intelligence agencies. You should be aware that non disclosure agreements and bindings by law have no effect in this place."
"My sworn word is good anywhere, do not test my patience. As to my occupation, I am an assassin. According to my reviews, I was the agency's most efficient assassin."
"Oh, dear." I look at this pure white creature, "Is there a problem?"
"Well... it's this next phase..." I hate it when people start beating around the bush, it wastes time and does nothing for my disposition. "Come on, spit it out, you can't say anything that I haven't heard before."
"Very well, just remember, you asked for it." Finally, some spine. "You're to be locked in a room, for two hours, during which everyone that you caused pain and suffering will be present. I leave it to your imagination how that will go." I smile at him. "Sounds like a restful two hours to me."
...
"Hello! This phase is ... done?" About what I expected, he thought he'd find me torn to bits. That's the thing. I'm *efficient*, that means there isn't going to be any pain or suffering. If I do my job right, they never have a chance to feel pain or suffering. As to the rest of my life, they showed up, we had a short chat, forgave each other, and they moved on. All told, that took about 30 minutes. The rest of the time, I was sleeping. It's been a rough afterlife, not because of the stages, but because of the bureaucratic blathering. I smile at this glowing apparition of the ultimate bureaucracy, "Fresh as a daisy and ready for the next challenge." In a much less friendly tone, "Hopefully, there will be one before I reach my final destination.
"Um, I'll see what I can do... how much of a challenge would you like?"
"Something where the fate of many rest upon my skill to accomplish the task assigned. Perhaps you would like the leadership of Hell changed?"
((finis)) | I was the best assassin of CIA and I was dead.
2 hours pass and the room wher people that have suffered from my hand were supposed to show up was empty. My stomach starts to feel like a heavy ball and the huming of my heartbeat was filling my head. Three deap breaths and I'm abble to calm myself. This reminded me of the first kill, the first mission. I went in there thinking it was gonna be just like training
clean shot straight in the head. I mean this guy was a terrorists, had killed many people. He was wearing a brown worn out leather jacket , black jeans with a pair of green military shoes. Nobody's in the room except for the man. I target for his head and wait for the man to get closer to the window so that i have a clear shot. My face covered in sweat eyesight starts to get dizzy i manage to get it together and put the finger on the trigger. I'm ready, the shot is clear, I can see the vein on his neck pulse beating no room for hesitation "Pull the trigger, get it together man" and just like that mission completed. A deadly cold possesses my boddy freazing every muscle my finger feels numb ears hurt from the noise i can't see or hear anything but my beating heart that had fallen to the stomach "Mission completed sir". Just like that done.
I was an assassin and and on that day two were dead. | |
[WP] Delivery drones are armed to deter thieves, but the more heavily defended a drone is the better the loot. The golden age of drone piracy is now lads. | "LOOK LOOK Grandad! I shot my first drone!"
"Ohho well done! I miss them days.. ohh yes let me tell you of my best hunt.."
December was the worst time to hunt,the bone sawing cold and the frozen gums, the snow blinds you and echo's the props all around your head, most people wouldn't bother with it but me?
I fucking love it!
The drones you see used a swarming tactic in the Christmas period, smaller packages below the £200 bracket protected the bigger ones
With the biggest being a cargo plane.. but that was out of reach at the time before jetpacks and such were found and I tell you the army thought thry were clever hiding them In drones, idiots.. anyway!
So there I was listening out for a low hum of an 4Mo-Zn I think, this thing was my prey that night, now luckily unlike our US brothers the UK drones werent too well armed, no rockets no lasers a few small calibre pistols and some BBs mind but they mostly liked to electricute us.. and ram us and the occasional "accidental" battery overload but other than that? It were like hunting ducks.
Normally the factory is the worst place to camp there's just no sport in it and they always send out duds first so people that camped close never really got the good stuff but when I got better I found a nice spot a mile or so away in a small foresty area I took many many drones put there, small ones big ones some stealth ones! But that's where i spotted her, a glorious T34, low flying, fat and slow with next to no support, someone most likely tried to take her down but fucked it up, but who else but me to let that get away?! So i lined up my trusty crossbow, and put a bolt right into it missing where I aimed!
Instead I hit the rotor, bargain I thought as it fell to the floor just like bricks should, now back in them days they didn't have beacons or lights oh no you had to run and grab! And fast! Before recovery turned up.
"Woooooow.! What was in there grandad?!"
Ah I pried it open as quick as I could, and I tell you I couldn't believe me eyes, a grand prize of my pirating days
"OHHH was it cool?! Like a TV or a gun?!"
oh it was better, far better it was a 1000 box of Yorkshire Gold tea! | Captain's Log - 10.01.2119
After months of tracking and preparations, we were as ready as we could be. Today was the day we would secure our biggest haul, and go down in history as the ones who took down the *A.D.C. White Whale*. We tracked her off the coast of Los Angeles, she was finishing making a cross pacific journey, fresh from the distribution centers, heavily laden with packages.
At first light, we began our descent, scanning the cloud ceiling below us for sings of the behemoth. At half past ten, our scanners picked her up. I ordered the helmsman to swing the hover-ship around and begin our dive. Alarms blared across the ship as crewman scrambled to battle stations. Our ship is a modest vessel, but we have had to adapt with the times. Due to the growing frequency in drone piracy, distributors have begun to arm their drones in order to prevent loss and ensure the package reaches its destination. Now, in addition to the cable capture nets, we have a handful of flak cannons for when things get too hairy, and our secret weapon, an EMP Launcher.
As we break through the upper cloud ceiling, we catch our prey by surprise and get our first up close view of the latest innovation, the **Amazon Drone Carrier**. 1,200 feet bow to stern, fully automated, carrying a fleet of 800 delivery drone, 50 combat drones, and bristling with a dozen anti-aircraft cannons.
We plummet down toward our target, blind to the their sensors until the last minute.
"THRUSTERS FULL REVERSE!!" I shout as the helmsman pulls back on the yoke with all his might. Slowing the ship to a hover a few hundred feet above the *White Whale* nullifying the advantage of their anti-aircraft cannons, but not their combat drones. Like a swarm of angry wasps, the pour out of the hanger of the carrier, flying towards us like a tornado.
"ALL CREWMAN, PREPARE TO REPEL ASSAULT! BOARDING PARTY -- STAND BY TO DROP!"
​
Part 2 to come after midterms. | |
[WP] Delivery drones are armed to deter thieves, but the more heavily defended a drone is the better the loot. The golden age of drone piracy is now lads. | The drone fluttered and spiraled to the ground like an injured butterfly, finally coming to rest in my neighbor's backyard two lots over. I couldn't believe my luck. It was unheard of for one to come down so easily, especially one carrying a box that size. She had managed to stay aloft barely a minute after had peppered her with a burst of automatic fire.
I set down my M4 assault rifle and reached for "the finisher", a rusty 14 ounce construction hammer. It had been a quick kill, but I still had no time to waste before poachers would move in on my prize.
I moved silently through the darkness. I barely missed a step as I hopped both fences approaching the crippled hexacopter as it lay writhing in its pseudo death throes. Careful to keep my face hidden, "the finisher" made quick work of the omnidirectional holographic imager.
I briefly surveyed the damage to the drone as I freed the payload from its clamps. I had assumed I must have hit some critical system to have brought it down so fast. The gyroboom and ampullae seemed to be more or less intact. The was really no readily apparent cause for her to have come down. Even the landing wasn't particularly tramatic. She had managed to slow her descent just before impact and crash with far more dignity than most.
It was a terrible shame to leave her behind. The power supply alone would be worth at least 20,000 cred, but, with redundant GPS trackers and microRFID aerosol tags, there had been far too many overly ambitious pirates getting burned these days. Prop 91 had made drone hunting a class one violation under GAPP, the Growth and Prosperity Preservation Act, which basically meant corporate blacklisting. Not only were pirates losing any hope of ever again having legitimate employment, but they were stripped of all protections against discrimination of any kind. The corporations would simply refuse to sell you goods or services and would strong arm anyone else who didn't follow suit. There was no trial. No appeals. No process of any kind. Food, water, clothing, housing, health care, you name it, they would become practically inaccessible overnight. Those with any means at all would quickly burn through their savings, lose their homes, become destitute and pennyless. The corporations would then be only too eager to exploit their newly created slave class.
The box was large, but not very heavy. I made it back to "the laboratory", my homemade basement Faraday cage, and began the critical unboxing procedure. It was certainly not below our benevolent corporate overlords to hide a GPS tracker in the box itself, but I was careful and with all the necessary precautions it wasn't of major concern. Within two minutes I'd have sniffed out and silenced anything that may be trying to call for help.
I waved my RF scanner over the box. Nothing. Checked for microRFID of any kind. Nada. The thing was radio silent. A fine white residue coated the outside of the box was now on my fingers. I rubbed it between my fingertips. The icy grip of paranoia set in as I felt my heart begin to do somersaults in my chest.
I shook it off. "This is crazy. Get a hold of yourself." But I wasn't going crazy. This was all wrong. Radiometric tag maybe? I reached for my Geiger counter.
Tick... Tick tick... Tick... Tick...
"Background. Nothing."
"Get rid of it." A voice in the back of my head pleaded as I reached for a box cutter. I timidly opened the flap and peeked inside. Packing styrofoam. I fished my hand around inside. More packing foam.
"What the f...?!" I upended the box. Packing peanuts spread out across my basement floor. The box was empty. I looked through the packing foam for anything I may have missed. Nothing. I looked again in the box thinking I must be going insane. A plain white envelope taped to the side.
I ripped the envelope open like it contained the last breathable oxygen on planet earth. I pulled out a standard form letter on corporate letterhead.
>To whom it may concern,
>In accordance with proposition 103, subsection 1, paragraph 4 of the Global Growth and Prosperity Preservation Act of 2037 you have been infected with synthetic viral compound ANZ174-2. Permanent genetic markers will identify you as well as any of your future descendants as non-compliant with code 802 making you no longer eligible to receive employment, benefits, goods, or services offered by Walzon Corporation, its subsidiaries or affiliates. | Heralded as one of the greatest paradigm shifts in the digital Renaissance. The weaknesses and strengths of drone logistics opened itself up to being exploited. All commercial drones were registered and constantly tracked, and as long as this data existed. Someone that shouldn't has it.
There is 2 main forms of drone piracy;
* Targeted
* Wide net
The former involves deliberately targeting specific property, or picking up a target and pursuing it. While wide net just aims to kidnap as many drones as possible which usually feeds into bigger wide net attacks as most of the drones caught are pulled apart and rebuilt into wide net capture drones. They vary in technical expertise, but targeted piracy generally seems to have better funding and technology.
Targeted has become almost unstoppable because it's resources are usually supported by a country/organisations with vested interest in obtaining certain property or intercepting terrorist drone operations. If someone has enough motivation and money they can easily intercept anything.
On top of all this there is a heap of Multi Trillionaires who got in early on the asteroid mining boom.
Ultimately the entire system has been reduced to economy delivery. Much cheaper than services with added security, and most people tend to not really care or notice.
Every now and then, due to the best time to transport is at night, drones with a heavy security envoy get attacked and it appears like fireworks. Debris is usually minimal due to laws which made owner tracing units and if your drone is caught from the destruction of life or property you will be held accountable. So many battle scenes are usually cleaned up either by local scavenger drones, or by the security envoy.
Which brings us to today's delivery, just your simple food delivery service. As the pizza comes out of the oven it is put into a drone carrier waiting in the loading bay. The drone then moves along a conveyor outside where it takes off and heads for it's destination along drone transport nodes. To avoid restricted or monitored skyways.
The drone reaches an altitude where a swarm of other drones contrast the skyline as dusk falls behind the horizon. Like a blood stream, pathways of drones layer over each other as recovery ships patrol every 50 km.
Just as our delivery is turning off for an approach towards something corrals them into a blockage. Three custom drones emit fake barriers the other drones see as obstacles. In effect netting them in a reservoir in order to avoid restricted airspace.
A mid size blimp drone hovers overhead and nets close to a hundred drones, which then emits an emp field through the net to disable the drones from reporting their location and status. Just as a security blimp is alerted to flow issues the hijacking blimp mimics a security signal for "Situation resolving; wait for response before action". Before the response timeout occurs the blimp has already left the area and is camouflaged amongst the clouds as it's envoy returns to assist it away.
In a caravan park along the mid western US border, everything appears devoid of any financial support. In this day and age showing you have possessions while living in these environments only makes you a target. As we enter through a caravan window we see a group of two men and three women around a modern workstation with VR and AR accessories. As the blimp lowers over the park to land they peel off their gear and quickly head outside. To where a crowd of locals are waiting. The net full of drones drags to a halt as the blimp strafes and lands. People rush in and grab a drone then leave, as the owners disassembles their blimp and store the parts in different caravans.
We now follow a young boy taking his drone back to his parents. His mother stirring a pot of water with chopped vegetables and stock turns around to yell for the father to come into the living room immediately. The boy places the drone onto the table as his father sits down laying out a strip of tools. He immediately begins pry open a few points and severed the battery and backup batteries. He removes the chips used to locate and geo position the drone and puts them into a safe under one of the coaches. Then he begins to break the safe which carries the goods.
After a minute or two the door swings open, and inside there is a muddled Pizza the father delicately slides out and dusts off. The mother turns off the stove and joins the others at the table with plates, glasses and a jug of water. To clear the table the father picks up the splayed drone an shoves it under the couch.
Ultimately drones have been something of a robin hood, back when people were too broke to eat there stands a way to feed everyone with minimal cost to society. Typically the restaurants resent the orders and these abductions don't typically happen all the time. Also the parts and scrap left over from drones are another valuable resources these communities rely on to scrape by.
It's a world of two classes, the haves and the have nots are as clear as night and day. | |
[WP] Delivery drones are armed to deter thieves, but the more heavily defended a drone is the better the loot. The golden age of drone piracy is now lads. | If you've grown up in a place with rules, it might surprise you to know that there are many places in the world that have none. Far flung places where nobody bothers to live. Sure, someone has probably laid claim to everywhere by now, but that's not really the same thing. It's like the rules set down by a teacher when she's not in the classroom - rules no more than a nice idea.
Of course, if you screw with someone who's too important too often they'll find a way to come after you. That's the secret that separates a good drone pirate from an incarcerated one: calculated risk. Anyone living in a place with rules can buy a gun and shoot down a delivery drone, but they'll quickly find themselves in court. It's too easy to get payback.
Now, if you live, say, in an economically useless dessert that's still under dispute between the government of an undeveloped country and a local militia, the difficulty of taking you to court skyrockets dramatically. As long as you're discerning about making sure that the cost of incarcerating you is less than the damages that you're causing any company, then you the individual are in the clear.
Your drones are another matter. Those poor beasts must do the heavy lifting of your operation. Let them brave the danger while you stay perfectly insulated behind a control panel. Here-say tells of a pirate who tried to go head to head against a drone in a prop plane. The two promptly crashed and said pirate gained immortality as a cautionary tale. While he did avoid prison time, I think this still goes to illustrate the importance of taking only calculated risks.
Drones don't have to calculate their risks, you do that for them, except you can do it with callous disregard for their wellbeing. A dead drone will set you back a while, but is a perfectly manageable problem within the grand scheme of your hopefully long and unincarcerated life. Serious deliveries from companies catering to luxury markets will blow your drones out of the sky. Sure, you could work tirelessly to outfit your own drones with the finest in electronic warfare capabilities. Hell you could paint flames on the side and give them weapons too and hope that it doesn't blow a hole in whatever you're trying to steal. If you do that you just might win a fight against the biggest baddest drones carrying something that could pay for your retirement. Once you win, you'll promptly be found and arrested because anyone who's that good a pirate is too bad for commerce.
Like I said, let your drones do the work. Don't put time and effort into them when the cheapest drone available on the market can crash into another drone just as good as your expensive custom build. Do you have any idea how many mid air drone collisions there are a year? A lot, but not so many that the margins aren't acceptable, especially if you don't crash into anything too important. So what if a drone collision happens in mid air while in flight over a disputed dessert territory? It's an acceptable loss. Accidents happen, and nobody's going to bother to salvage it but me. | Drone Piracy, Ed was an old hand at this. Sure it was a new profession, if it could even be called that, but he was at it right from the start all those years ago. It was this experience that let him recognise the value of his prey.
'The first step of drone piracy was to distract it.' Ed thought as he examined his quarry. A drone, larger than the base model, this one used for heavy cargo and also heavily armed. Still, nothing he couldn't deal with. Raising his hand as he could not use his radio, the transmission might be picked up, he gave the signal. Suddenly, gunshots rang out from the distance, measured and aiming for the rotors. It wouldn't be enough to take out such a heavily armed drone but it wouldn't be ignored either. The drone stuttered in the air before it righted itself and began returning fire.
'The second step of drone piracy was to confuse it.' Ed brought his arm up and triggered the switch. Suddenly flares burst from the rooftops, the heat messing with the drones heat sensors and the light obscuring their regular vision. The shooter on the rooftops kept at it as they manoeuvred to a better position.
'The third step of drone piracy is to ground it.'
Finally Ed turned on his radio, no point trying to be remain unnoticed now, and barked a command. "Fire." Two harpoons shot from the rooftop, piercing the drone and dragging it down even as the rotors tried to lift it higher. Finally, the drone was resting on the ground the defenses destroyed and any chance of escape eliminated.
'The last step of drone piracy is, loot and escape.' Ed led his team hurriedly to the drone, they'd load what they could and leave before the authorities arrived. The shooter and the two harpoons operators approached the drone, though Ed couldn't help but think something was wrong. That it was too easy, usually there were complications. Opening the drone up, with his team clustered around him, his fears were confirmed. A ticking, until then unheard, sped up. | |
[WP] Delivery drones are armed to deter thieves, but the more heavily defended a drone is the better the loot. The golden age of drone piracy is now lads. | SYSERR 10067 - DRONE_408212 NOT RESPONSIVE FOR 500uS
Starting audio analysis subroutine . . .
EVENT 40045 - AUDIO EVENT LOGGED
DISPLAYING ANALYSIS PROBABILITY
GUNSHOT - 98.4%
HIGH CALIBER RIFLE - 2.4%
MEDIUM CALIBER RIFLE - 68.5%
HIGH CALIBER PISTOL - 1.1%
MEDIUM CALIBER PISTOL / LOW CALIBER RIFLE - 34.3%
LOW CALIBER PISTOL - 2.3%
SUBSONIC WEAPON - 0.4%
LIGHTNING STRIKE - 9.4%
AUDIO EQUIPMENT MALFUNCTION - 0.4%
OTHER - 1.2%
Starting image analysis subroutine . . .
EVENT 60033 - INDIVIDUAL LOGGED
MATCH - FACIAL RECOGNITION - 99.8%
{
AMAZON_GLOBAL_ID: “81b8a1b77068d06e”,
LAST_NAME: “KING”,
FIRST_NAME: “FATIMA”,
AMAZON_PRIME_MEMBER: False,
PREVIOUS_INCIDENTS: {
“594f803b380”,
“a41396ed63d”,
“ca395035424”
}
}
MATCH - FIREARM - 92.6%
{
TYPE: “LONG_BARREL_RIFLE”,
ACTION: “BOLT_ACTION”,
CALIBER: “.30-06”
}
Processing . . .
PROBABILITY OF INDIVIDUAL 81b8a1b77068d06e CAUSING DRONE_408212 MALFUNCTION - 89.3%
REQUEST HQ FOR PERMISSION TO ENGAGE . . .
REQUEST APPROVED!
Starting suspect engagement protocol . . .
POST ENGAGEMENT REPORT
{
DRONES_DAMAGED: [],
SUSPECT_STATUS: [
“81b8a1b77068d06e”: “NEUTRALIZED”
],
ROUNDS_EXPENT: 37,
DELAY_TO_CUSTOMER: 34.26S
}
Starting engagement report upload to local law enforcement . . .
DONE!
Starting lost asset recovery subroutine . . .
IMMEDIATE RECOVERY - IMPRACTICAL
Sending last known location of DRONE_408212 to HQ for recovery . . .
DONE!
\-- Item #006 in Washington State v Fatima King, recovered from Amazon Drone 408111 | *Yes, I got it down.* James ran and quickly grabbed his prize. A T.I.X model 9, the latest and greatest in defensive drone delivery, and he brought it down. Even if he couldn't find a buyer for whatever's inside the bragging rights alone where worth it. He brought it back to his workshop, and carefully dissembled the delivery device, he had heard rumors that some of them may be booby trapped. He didn't buy into those rumors but better safe than sorry.
After several hours he finally got his prize, a small box no bigger than his hand. *Weird, why so much protection for something this small?* The drone that had been delivering it was almost as big as his torso, so it was more than a bit strange to him. After he worked the box opened he saw what was so important, a small bottle. The writing on the side was foreign to him, but the note inside was not.
"Dear Amy
I'm sorry I can't be there for you, but I found something that might help. The medicine comes with an eyedropper already, three drops in the morning and two at night, if this doesn't work contact me and I'll return. I would rather be at your side than on the other side of the world.
Love
Samantha."
*Oh gods, what did I just steal?* James found the drones motherboard and looked for where it was going. His heart dropped, it was meant for someone in his building, but the package was late already. He never knew her name was Amy. | |
[WP] Delivery drones are armed to deter thieves, but the more heavily defended a drone is the better the loot. The golden age of drone piracy is now lads. | Colin leaned against the truck, lounging in its flat bed, his half-open eyes scanning the sky for movement. Bored with looking at nothing he yawned and stretched his arms, the rifle at his hip clinking against the truck’s metal frame. After a week on drone spotting he regretted speaking up at the last council, but he didn’t regret what he said. The drones were getting smarter, faster, and stronger, their current tactics would get someone killed. Though, telling the chief he was an idiot for ignoring the signs may not have been the most diplomatic of approaches.
The sound of a swarm of mosquitoes buzzed on the horizon and Colin leapt up to his feet. With his hand over his eyes he scanned the deserted town. A rusting blue water tower tilted like the Leaning Tower of Pisa with the words, “welcome to Hel..” the rest of the words obscured by the chipping paint of the Cyber age. Behind it, a small black dot buzzed forward, eager to get somewhere.
Colin smiled and slapped on the roof of the hood, “Got one!”
The engine roared to life, and the car jerked into gear tossing Colin onto his back. The wind flew from his lungs as the truck bounced over the rubble-filled road. With a growl he smacked his hand on the open plastic window that separated him from the driver.
“What’s the big idea?”
“Aren’t you the one who said, ‘we can’t waste any time?’” The girl said. She looked back and winked through her tinted goggles.
“I also said ‘safety is never a waste of time.”
“Well then, you won’t like this, it’s headed for the woods.” Her hands spun the wheel round and round, causing the truck to skid sideways and almost rolling it over.
Colin grabbed onto the railing of the flatbed and gripped his rifle. They were gaining on the small black drone, but they couldn’t follow it through the trees. He aimed his gun, the red dot in his lens obscuring the flying machine. He clicked his tongue and slammed his palm on the roof of the car.
“It’s too far.”
“Not for long,” the girl said pushing down on the gas pedal. The car rocked around as the wheels left the pavement for dirt and a cloud puffed up behind them. “Get read to aim right.”
Colin rolled his eyes and fell to the bed of the truck tucking his rifle into his armpit. His heart was racing, they were speeding right into the tree line. “What’s your plan?” he asked.
The girl laughed, and the car skidded again the back of the flatbed knocking against a tree, before he could scold her, they were moving too fast to sit up to the window. Biting his lip, he did the only thing he could. Trust her. He aimed right, where he could only see tree line. Then, there was a clearing, a path through the forest from the cyber age where rows of telephone poles cleared out the life.
A black dot shined and his gun snapped to it. Adjusting to his speed, the drones, and the bullets drop, he smiled and pulled the trigger.
The bang sent birds scattering and a crack of blue light lit up the sky. A path of smoke leading to where the drone had fallen. The car stopped, and the girl got out to stretch. “I’m going to take a nap. Good luck finding it out there.”
“Sure you don’t want to come?” Colin asked as he hopped out of the truck slinging the gun onto his back.
She looked at the tower of smoke that pointed to the middle of the dense forest and smirked. “Nope. I’ll let you handle it.”
Colin groaned, but the driver had no obligation to accompany the hunter. Too many things about this gang were silly, he’d let chief hear his complaints.
His journey through the forest left him with scratches all over his arms and face, while everything under his waist somehow covered in mud. The pillar of smoke was fading, but he was close enough to guess where it landed, over a small creek surrounded by thick bushes. The drone’s parachute had activated and now had it caught on a branch.
Colin waded through the shin deep creek and using his gun as a poker knocked the drone down. In one motion he holstered his weapon and caught the drone. He opened the small carrying compartment and saw the note inside.
“Pirates under the highway 65 70 intersection clover.”
His heart stopped. The carriers knew where they lived.
~~~
/r/Quarklaserdisc | What a lot of people don't realise is that Bank is the perfect place to wait for drones. It's full up on people at all hours of the day and night. Might seem like a handicap, 'cept everyone's staring at their phones, or their feet, anywhere but where they might meet another person's eyes. Pete an' me, we figured it out real quick when we were 'round the actual Bank for a school trip, and came back later to try a bit of climbing. Those old buildings are as good for it as you'd think.
The other thing is, there's lots of fancy people around. Bankers, sure, but others too. The people who *employ* bankers. And not the fancy new-money wankers from Canary Wharf. The kind of old money that comes with titles and those stupid pinky rings.
Anyway, those types of people like to get what they want, when they want it. And they don't want to wait for London traffic for it to be delivered, either. Hence: prime drone spotting territory.
You might be thinking, "what about the cameras?" London is famous for them. But, bruv, any Scav worth a damn carries a disruptor, or course. Those Peeping Toms might as well be set dressing. The real impressive tech comes in when you want to catch one. They move fast, and even a basic model comes with good hazard avoidance algorithms these days.
Fortunately, I've always been a tinkerer, and Pete's got great eyes and a steady hand. So even when we were starting out, we did alright. Our first big catch was over Hampstead Heath, with a weighted tennis ball and some braided fishing line. it was right around Christmas in year 12, and things were lean at home. We'd been goofing around with prototypes, and saw a M-573 carrying an Amazon box passing overhead. It was too good of a chance to pass up. One excellent throw later, we had a treasure trove in hand. Someone's mum was sending a fancy hamper to, "help with Christmas dinner." It was enough to make things better at both our houses that year, and we were well pleased. We scarpered, taking the goods–and drone parts–with us.
After a couple of other easy catches, we decided to try the spot we'd found at Bank. The first night out we got a fancy watch, some bottles of Krug, and a USB stick that we looked at before leaving at a police station. You might have heard about the arrests that followed–you know the ones. Parliament was in an uproar for ages about them. That was us.
We kept things chilled, trying to never take too much or be too bold. But when Pete's dad got sick, and my sister got into an accident, or when the neighbors pension checks got mysteriously delayed, well, somehow there was always money to sort things out with.
And then, we started to get a reputation. And through a network of whispers, a certain M.G. asked if he could hire our services. Which is what brought us up to the roof on this particular evening.
"It's fuckin' cold," Pete said, shivering. He's always been a skinny lad, and even though we're well out of school, he hasn't put on any weight. Lucky bastard.
"It's November, Pete. I told you to wear your Jacket over your hoodie."
"I know, but I figured this hoodie would be enough with this muffler."
"Fuckin' hell, here, but these on." I handed him the mittens I was wearing over my gloves. It might affect his dexterity, but cold hands would be worse.
"Thanks L."
"Don't mention it." We looked up together. It was a mercifully dry night, but the lack of clouds meant there was nothing to hold the city's heat in. The sky burned orange from the lights below, and we waited in hopes that one specific delivery would be passing by.
"Shit, is that it?" Pete pointed. An extremely black object was quietly zooming across our field of view from the east.
"Dumbasses painted it with Vanta Black? It sticks out like sore thumb!" I pulled up my binoculars and looked at the shape. Sure enough, a drone shaped hole in the sky was there.
"Shot one?"
"Short circuit grenade, go." I figured it wasn't going to work, but it might give us some idea of the thing's capabilities. Sure enough, when the grenade hit, the drone only wobbled a little. Through the binoculars, I watched it extend an arm out the side. "Shit, it's got something out. Can you tell what it is?"
"Give me those, and I'll see." He grabbed the binocs, then swore. "It's one of those laser scopes–" his sentence was cut off as a red light shone down on the rooftoop. The angle of the beam showed us the drone was still moving quickly. If we wanted to intercept it, we'd have to move fast.
What followed was a ridiculous deployment of tech. Pete and I both shot the thing with weapons resembling harpoon guns. In turn, it tried to electrocute us, cut the ropes with the laser, and set us on fire with a flame thrower. Fortunately, we had measures to counteract all of these defences, and in a few minutes, we had the drone on the roof, rotors off, and AI disabled.
"Damn but it's a big 'un." It really was. A meter long, and over half a meter wide, it was unusually big, even for London. The black colour was unsettling, and something seemed...off.
"I'm getting a weird feeling. Let's be really careful when we open this one, hey?"
"Agreed."
Disabling the outer locks was shockingly easy, given everything we'd seen to that point, but we were "rewarded" by a strange mist emanating out when we pulled off the main flight assembly.
"Fuck! Back off." I was starting to worry about the time, but a lucky gust of wind came and blew whatever it was away. We had the lid off quickly with a lever, and then we were looking at the inner capsule. It was round, and appeared to have to seams on it.
"Now what? We can't get this off the roof." We heard sirens, and turned to look toward them. They seemed to be coming from everywhere, but streets are a maze where we were, so it was hard to tell how many police where coming. More than one car though, that was sure.
I put my hand on the capsule, and tried to roll it, to see if there was some way to open it on the bottom. But as I did, a seam appeared where none had been, and a lid popped open to reveal:
"Fuck, why did that asshole send us to get a body?"
"I don't think it's a body, P."
A perfect human girl lay curled up in the pod, apparently asleep. She was wearing a strange jumpsuit, but what skin I could see was flawless. Her hair spread out in a corona of curls on the cushioning around her. She was beautiful. Also, she was blue.
"Liv, we gotta go." I turned to look at Pete, then back to the girl.
"But, what if she's in trouble? We can't just leave her!"
"*We're* going to be in trouble if we don't get out of here."
"One sec." I looked at him, and our ropes. "How do you feel about parkour with a passenger?"
"Oh, fuck." | |
[WP] Delivery drones are armed to deter thieves, but the more heavily defended a drone is the better the loot. The golden age of drone piracy is now lads. | SYSERR 10067 - DRONE_408212 NOT RESPONSIVE FOR 500uS
Starting audio analysis subroutine . . .
EVENT 40045 - AUDIO EVENT LOGGED
DISPLAYING ANALYSIS PROBABILITY
GUNSHOT - 98.4%
HIGH CALIBER RIFLE - 2.4%
MEDIUM CALIBER RIFLE - 68.5%
HIGH CALIBER PISTOL - 1.1%
MEDIUM CALIBER PISTOL / LOW CALIBER RIFLE - 34.3%
LOW CALIBER PISTOL - 2.3%
SUBSONIC WEAPON - 0.4%
LIGHTNING STRIKE - 9.4%
AUDIO EQUIPMENT MALFUNCTION - 0.4%
OTHER - 1.2%
Starting image analysis subroutine . . .
EVENT 60033 - INDIVIDUAL LOGGED
MATCH - FACIAL RECOGNITION - 99.8%
{
AMAZON_GLOBAL_ID: “81b8a1b77068d06e”,
LAST_NAME: “KING”,
FIRST_NAME: “FATIMA”,
AMAZON_PRIME_MEMBER: False,
PREVIOUS_INCIDENTS: {
“594f803b380”,
“a41396ed63d”,
“ca395035424”
}
}
MATCH - FIREARM - 92.6%
{
TYPE: “LONG_BARREL_RIFLE”,
ACTION: “BOLT_ACTION”,
CALIBER: “.30-06”
}
Processing . . .
PROBABILITY OF INDIVIDUAL 81b8a1b77068d06e CAUSING DRONE_408212 MALFUNCTION - 89.3%
REQUEST HQ FOR PERMISSION TO ENGAGE . . .
REQUEST APPROVED!
Starting suspect engagement protocol . . .
POST ENGAGEMENT REPORT
{
DRONES_DAMAGED: [],
SUSPECT_STATUS: [
“81b8a1b77068d06e”: “NEUTRALIZED”
],
ROUNDS_EXPENT: 37,
DELAY_TO_CUSTOMER: 34.26S
}
Starting engagement report upload to local law enforcement . . .
DONE!
Starting lost asset recovery subroutine . . .
IMMEDIATE RECOVERY - IMPRACTICAL
Sending last known location of DRONE_408212 to HQ for recovery . . .
DONE!
\-- Item #006 in Washington State v Fatima King, recovered from Amazon Drone 408111 | What a lot of people don't realise is that Bank is the perfect place to wait for drones. It's full up on people at all hours of the day and night. Might seem like a handicap, 'cept everyone's staring at their phones, or their feet, anywhere but where they might meet another person's eyes. Pete an' me, we figured it out real quick when we were 'round the actual Bank for a school trip, and came back later to try a bit of climbing. Those old buildings are as good for it as you'd think.
The other thing is, there's lots of fancy people around. Bankers, sure, but others too. The people who *employ* bankers. And not the fancy new-money wankers from Canary Wharf. The kind of old money that comes with titles and those stupid pinky rings.
Anyway, those types of people like to get what they want, when they want it. And they don't want to wait for London traffic for it to be delivered, either. Hence: prime drone spotting territory.
You might be thinking, "what about the cameras?" London is famous for them. But, bruv, any Scav worth a damn carries a disruptor, or course. Those Peeping Toms might as well be set dressing. The real impressive tech comes in when you want to catch one. They move fast, and even a basic model comes with good hazard avoidance algorithms these days.
Fortunately, I've always been a tinkerer, and Pete's got great eyes and a steady hand. So even when we were starting out, we did alright. Our first big catch was over Hampstead Heath, with a weighted tennis ball and some braided fishing line. it was right around Christmas in year 12, and things were lean at home. We'd been goofing around with prototypes, and saw a M-573 carrying an Amazon box passing overhead. It was too good of a chance to pass up. One excellent throw later, we had a treasure trove in hand. Someone's mum was sending a fancy hamper to, "help with Christmas dinner." It was enough to make things better at both our houses that year, and we were well pleased. We scarpered, taking the goods–and drone parts–with us.
After a couple of other easy catches, we decided to try the spot we'd found at Bank. The first night out we got a fancy watch, some bottles of Krug, and a USB stick that we looked at before leaving at a police station. You might have heard about the arrests that followed–you know the ones. Parliament was in an uproar for ages about them. That was us.
We kept things chilled, trying to never take too much or be too bold. But when Pete's dad got sick, and my sister got into an accident, or when the neighbors pension checks got mysteriously delayed, well, somehow there was always money to sort things out with.
And then, we started to get a reputation. And through a network of whispers, a certain M.G. asked if he could hire our services. Which is what brought us up to the roof on this particular evening.
"It's fuckin' cold," Pete said, shivering. He's always been a skinny lad, and even though we're well out of school, he hasn't put on any weight. Lucky bastard.
"It's November, Pete. I told you to wear your Jacket over your hoodie."
"I know, but I figured this hoodie would be enough with this muffler."
"Fuckin' hell, here, but these on." I handed him the mittens I was wearing over my gloves. It might affect his dexterity, but cold hands would be worse.
"Thanks L."
"Don't mention it." We looked up together. It was a mercifully dry night, but the lack of clouds meant there was nothing to hold the city's heat in. The sky burned orange from the lights below, and we waited in hopes that one specific delivery would be passing by.
"Shit, is that it?" Pete pointed. An extremely black object was quietly zooming across our field of view from the east.
"Dumbasses painted it with Vanta Black? It sticks out like sore thumb!" I pulled up my binoculars and looked at the shape. Sure enough, a drone shaped hole in the sky was there.
"Shot one?"
"Short circuit grenade, go." I figured it wasn't going to work, but it might give us some idea of the thing's capabilities. Sure enough, when the grenade hit, the drone only wobbled a little. Through the binoculars, I watched it extend an arm out the side. "Shit, it's got something out. Can you tell what it is?"
"Give me those, and I'll see." He grabbed the binocs, then swore. "It's one of those laser scopes–" his sentence was cut off as a red light shone down on the rooftoop. The angle of the beam showed us the drone was still moving quickly. If we wanted to intercept it, we'd have to move fast.
What followed was a ridiculous deployment of tech. Pete and I both shot the thing with weapons resembling harpoon guns. In turn, it tried to electrocute us, cut the ropes with the laser, and set us on fire with a flame thrower. Fortunately, we had measures to counteract all of these defences, and in a few minutes, we had the drone on the roof, rotors off, and AI disabled.
"Damn but it's a big 'un." It really was. A meter long, and over half a meter wide, it was unusually big, even for London. The black colour was unsettling, and something seemed...off.
"I'm getting a weird feeling. Let's be really careful when we open this one, hey?"
"Agreed."
Disabling the outer locks was shockingly easy, given everything we'd seen to that point, but we were "rewarded" by a strange mist emanating out when we pulled off the main flight assembly.
"Fuck! Back off." I was starting to worry about the time, but a lucky gust of wind came and blew whatever it was away. We had the lid off quickly with a lever, and then we were looking at the inner capsule. It was round, and appeared to have to seams on it.
"Now what? We can't get this off the roof." We heard sirens, and turned to look toward them. They seemed to be coming from everywhere, but streets are a maze where we were, so it was hard to tell how many police where coming. More than one car though, that was sure.
I put my hand on the capsule, and tried to roll it, to see if there was some way to open it on the bottom. But as I did, a seam appeared where none had been, and a lid popped open to reveal:
"Fuck, why did that asshole send us to get a body?"
"I don't think it's a body, P."
A perfect human girl lay curled up in the pod, apparently asleep. She was wearing a strange jumpsuit, but what skin I could see was flawless. Her hair spread out in a corona of curls on the cushioning around her. She was beautiful. Also, she was blue.
"Liv, we gotta go." I turned to look at Pete, then back to the girl.
"But, what if she's in trouble? We can't just leave her!"
"*We're* going to be in trouble if we don't get out of here."
"One sec." I looked at him, and our ropes. "How do you feel about parkour with a passenger?"
"Oh, fuck." | |
[WP] Delivery drones are armed to deter thieves, but the more heavily defended a drone is the better the loot. The golden age of drone piracy is now lads. | It didn’t matter that it was illegal, it was fun. New gangs had started as aerial wars took place. Thieves has entire garages setup to control their drones in VR racing style pods. These were the dog fights of the skies.
Generations of adults and kids growing up on video games ad never prepared police and amazon for the mass thievery. At first it was just people trying to get other people’s ordered goods, petty theft. But as delivery grew so did the goods. It didn’t take police long to start getting involved but hunting down thieves were near impossible. Drone hunting was the newest and hottest crime. Digital leaderboards had started popping up showing which gangs has scored the most loot and best number of drones downed.
Authorities soon realized they were no match for these aged gamer thieves and their superior flight and skill ability. Which led Amazon to create their own third party defense. Triple D, Drone Defense Department, was third party group of hired gamers and flyers to defend the most precious of cargos. We had our own leaderboard, the board of packages safely delivered and the board of drones downed.
It was a highly sought after job. The Triple D leaderboard had recently been added to the gangs as they rate pilots in defense. Keeping a K/D ratio spread. I’m the best...called the Baron. Never been downed on a defense mission, and this only put on the most important cargo.
However this has had quite the repercussion, as the only undefeated flyer more and more pilot pirates come after packages I’m delivering to take me on. It’s most concerning as we don’t advertise who protects what. It means there is a leak, someone promoting these aerial wars, maybe the packages aren’t the most important product. | What a lot of people don't realise is that Bank is the perfect place to wait for drones. It's full up on people at all hours of the day and night. Might seem like a handicap, 'cept everyone's staring at their phones, or their feet, anywhere but where they might meet another person's eyes. Pete an' me, we figured it out real quick when we were 'round the actual Bank for a school trip, and came back later to try a bit of climbing. Those old buildings are as good for it as you'd think.
The other thing is, there's lots of fancy people around. Bankers, sure, but others too. The people who *employ* bankers. And not the fancy new-money wankers from Canary Wharf. The kind of old money that comes with titles and those stupid pinky rings.
Anyway, those types of people like to get what they want, when they want it. And they don't want to wait for London traffic for it to be delivered, either. Hence: prime drone spotting territory.
You might be thinking, "what about the cameras?" London is famous for them. But, bruv, any Scav worth a damn carries a disruptor, or course. Those Peeping Toms might as well be set dressing. The real impressive tech comes in when you want to catch one. They move fast, and even a basic model comes with good hazard avoidance algorithms these days.
Fortunately, I've always been a tinkerer, and Pete's got great eyes and a steady hand. So even when we were starting out, we did alright. Our first big catch was over Hampstead Heath, with a weighted tennis ball and some braided fishing line. it was right around Christmas in year 12, and things were lean at home. We'd been goofing around with prototypes, and saw a M-573 carrying an Amazon box passing overhead. It was too good of a chance to pass up. One excellent throw later, we had a treasure trove in hand. Someone's mum was sending a fancy hamper to, "help with Christmas dinner." It was enough to make things better at both our houses that year, and we were well pleased. We scarpered, taking the goods–and drone parts–with us.
After a couple of other easy catches, we decided to try the spot we'd found at Bank. The first night out we got a fancy watch, some bottles of Krug, and a USB stick that we looked at before leaving at a police station. You might have heard about the arrests that followed–you know the ones. Parliament was in an uproar for ages about them. That was us.
We kept things chilled, trying to never take too much or be too bold. But when Pete's dad got sick, and my sister got into an accident, or when the neighbors pension checks got mysteriously delayed, well, somehow there was always money to sort things out with.
And then, we started to get a reputation. And through a network of whispers, a certain M.G. asked if he could hire our services. Which is what brought us up to the roof on this particular evening.
"It's fuckin' cold," Pete said, shivering. He's always been a skinny lad, and even though we're well out of school, he hasn't put on any weight. Lucky bastard.
"It's November, Pete. I told you to wear your Jacket over your hoodie."
"I know, but I figured this hoodie would be enough with this muffler."
"Fuckin' hell, here, but these on." I handed him the mittens I was wearing over my gloves. It might affect his dexterity, but cold hands would be worse.
"Thanks L."
"Don't mention it." We looked up together. It was a mercifully dry night, but the lack of clouds meant there was nothing to hold the city's heat in. The sky burned orange from the lights below, and we waited in hopes that one specific delivery would be passing by.
"Shit, is that it?" Pete pointed. An extremely black object was quietly zooming across our field of view from the east.
"Dumbasses painted it with Vanta Black? It sticks out like sore thumb!" I pulled up my binoculars and looked at the shape. Sure enough, a drone shaped hole in the sky was there.
"Shot one?"
"Short circuit grenade, go." I figured it wasn't going to work, but it might give us some idea of the thing's capabilities. Sure enough, when the grenade hit, the drone only wobbled a little. Through the binoculars, I watched it extend an arm out the side. "Shit, it's got something out. Can you tell what it is?"
"Give me those, and I'll see." He grabbed the binocs, then swore. "It's one of those laser scopes–" his sentence was cut off as a red light shone down on the rooftoop. The angle of the beam showed us the drone was still moving quickly. If we wanted to intercept it, we'd have to move fast.
What followed was a ridiculous deployment of tech. Pete and I both shot the thing with weapons resembling harpoon guns. In turn, it tried to electrocute us, cut the ropes with the laser, and set us on fire with a flame thrower. Fortunately, we had measures to counteract all of these defences, and in a few minutes, we had the drone on the roof, rotors off, and AI disabled.
"Damn but it's a big 'un." It really was. A meter long, and over half a meter wide, it was unusually big, even for London. The black colour was unsettling, and something seemed...off.
"I'm getting a weird feeling. Let's be really careful when we open this one, hey?"
"Agreed."
Disabling the outer locks was shockingly easy, given everything we'd seen to that point, but we were "rewarded" by a strange mist emanating out when we pulled off the main flight assembly.
"Fuck! Back off." I was starting to worry about the time, but a lucky gust of wind came and blew whatever it was away. We had the lid off quickly with a lever, and then we were looking at the inner capsule. It was round, and appeared to have to seams on it.
"Now what? We can't get this off the roof." We heard sirens, and turned to look toward them. They seemed to be coming from everywhere, but streets are a maze where we were, so it was hard to tell how many police where coming. More than one car though, that was sure.
I put my hand on the capsule, and tried to roll it, to see if there was some way to open it on the bottom. But as I did, a seam appeared where none had been, and a lid popped open to reveal:
"Fuck, why did that asshole send us to get a body?"
"I don't think it's a body, P."
A perfect human girl lay curled up in the pod, apparently asleep. She was wearing a strange jumpsuit, but what skin I could see was flawless. Her hair spread out in a corona of curls on the cushioning around her. She was beautiful. Also, she was blue.
"Liv, we gotta go." I turned to look at Pete, then back to the girl.
"But, what if she's in trouble? We can't just leave her!"
"*We're* going to be in trouble if we don't get out of here."
"One sec." I looked at him, and our ropes. "How do you feel about parkour with a passenger?"
"Oh, fuck." | |
[WP] Delivery drones are armed to deter thieves, but the more heavily defended a drone is the better the loot. The golden age of drone piracy is now lads. | Night hangs over the city like an inky black shroud, cloaking it in darkness.
And under cover of darkness, the city springs to life. The airways are buzzing tonight - it’s a big sales night, and countless deliveries are being flown to countless homes. The city’s like a living organism on nights like these - the airways blood vessels, the drones blood cells, the packages life-giving oxygen. Buy this, buy that. Do you really need another back-scratcher? Another boxed set of DVDs? Of course you do. One-click purchase makes it easier than ever. Buy now, and it’ll be at your doorstep in an hour or less. Capitalism is alive and well, and everyone in this city wants something.
Unfortunately for our friendly neighborhood megacorporations, not everyone wants to pay.
The modified rotors of the custom Aspect T25 slice through the icy night air. It’s an interesting beast. Though designed as a heavy construction drone, the T25 has two main selling points that Aspect Systems refuses to openly advertise. One, the hardpoints for attaching construction equipment are compatible (by sheer coincidence, mind you) with highly illegal ‘whammy’ drone-to-drone disruptor weaponry.
And two, it’s built like a flying tank.
It’s point two that keeps Griffin’s drone in the air tonight. The highly customized drone strains under the weight of its stolen cargo, swaying after the loss of two of its rotors. It’s a heavy loss, but Griffin is no ordinary pilot, and he can fly with six rotors, no sweat. Under his careful guidance, the T25 slips out of Airway C23546 and goes off the grid. Its identifier blinks off, and its carefully arranged stealth fields flicker on. It’s now invisible to all but the most sophisticated detectors. Many miles away, Griffin pushes up his goggles as the autopilot kicks in to fly the Twenty-Five home.
“How’s the haul tonight, Griff?” A voice crackles in through his headset.
“Pretty shit. Some knockoff Gen 1 phasers out of China, busted me up pretty good when they saw my approach and got a few shots off. I’ll be lucky if the haul pays for repairs.” Griffin lies smoothly. In this business, bragging only invites jealousy - or worse, robbery.
“Hah, I keep telling you, man - gotta get your hands on one of the new Vipers. They’ve got a new blade design that’s almost silent. You could fly one in a fuckin’ library. And they’ve got the sensor cross-section of a flea.”
“Sure, Q. As long as you don’t mind it going down when a stray rock hits it.”
“Come on! The gen twos can survive most small-arms fire.”
“Uhhuh. Hey, I gotta go - I’ll catch you later, okay?”
“Sure.” The line goes dead with a click, and Griff leans back in his seat, wiping his brow. He lifts a half-empty drink can to his lips, drains it, and sighs. Despite what he’s told Q, there’s no knockoff phaser package strapped to his drone’s belly.
A stolen combat drone prototype hangs in the T25’s magnetized claws. It’s the latest out of Sato Robotics’ R&D department. It sports pulse weapons, nanosteel layered armor, the latest sensor packages, and a top speed of almost 400 miles an hour. It’s worth a fortune.
And Sato’s not about to let it go without a fight. Suddenly, a blaring tone echoes through the basement.
CONTACT: INCOMING SATO SECURITY. FOUR SATO X-50’S ON INTERCEPT.
Briefly, he considers dropping the package, letting the Sato drones recover it. If his drone goes down in a fight with Sato’s X-50s, he won’t have enough money left to buy another. He’d lose everything.
Then again, the risk is worth it.
He cracks his knuckles and pulls his headset back on.
---
*Want more? Join /r/OneMillionWords* | What a lot of people don't realise is that Bank is the perfect place to wait for drones. It's full up on people at all hours of the day and night. Might seem like a handicap, 'cept everyone's staring at their phones, or their feet, anywhere but where they might meet another person's eyes. Pete an' me, we figured it out real quick when we were 'round the actual Bank for a school trip, and came back later to try a bit of climbing. Those old buildings are as good for it as you'd think.
The other thing is, there's lots of fancy people around. Bankers, sure, but others too. The people who *employ* bankers. And not the fancy new-money wankers from Canary Wharf. The kind of old money that comes with titles and those stupid pinky rings.
Anyway, those types of people like to get what they want, when they want it. And they don't want to wait for London traffic for it to be delivered, either. Hence: prime drone spotting territory.
You might be thinking, "what about the cameras?" London is famous for them. But, bruv, any Scav worth a damn carries a disruptor, or course. Those Peeping Toms might as well be set dressing. The real impressive tech comes in when you want to catch one. They move fast, and even a basic model comes with good hazard avoidance algorithms these days.
Fortunately, I've always been a tinkerer, and Pete's got great eyes and a steady hand. So even when we were starting out, we did alright. Our first big catch was over Hampstead Heath, with a weighted tennis ball and some braided fishing line. it was right around Christmas in year 12, and things were lean at home. We'd been goofing around with prototypes, and saw a M-573 carrying an Amazon box passing overhead. It was too good of a chance to pass up. One excellent throw later, we had a treasure trove in hand. Someone's mum was sending a fancy hamper to, "help with Christmas dinner." It was enough to make things better at both our houses that year, and we were well pleased. We scarpered, taking the goods–and drone parts–with us.
After a couple of other easy catches, we decided to try the spot we'd found at Bank. The first night out we got a fancy watch, some bottles of Krug, and a USB stick that we looked at before leaving at a police station. You might have heard about the arrests that followed–you know the ones. Parliament was in an uproar for ages about them. That was us.
We kept things chilled, trying to never take too much or be too bold. But when Pete's dad got sick, and my sister got into an accident, or when the neighbors pension checks got mysteriously delayed, well, somehow there was always money to sort things out with.
And then, we started to get a reputation. And through a network of whispers, a certain M.G. asked if he could hire our services. Which is what brought us up to the roof on this particular evening.
"It's fuckin' cold," Pete said, shivering. He's always been a skinny lad, and even though we're well out of school, he hasn't put on any weight. Lucky bastard.
"It's November, Pete. I told you to wear your Jacket over your hoodie."
"I know, but I figured this hoodie would be enough with this muffler."
"Fuckin' hell, here, but these on." I handed him the mittens I was wearing over my gloves. It might affect his dexterity, but cold hands would be worse.
"Thanks L."
"Don't mention it." We looked up together. It was a mercifully dry night, but the lack of clouds meant there was nothing to hold the city's heat in. The sky burned orange from the lights below, and we waited in hopes that one specific delivery would be passing by.
"Shit, is that it?" Pete pointed. An extremely black object was quietly zooming across our field of view from the east.
"Dumbasses painted it with Vanta Black? It sticks out like sore thumb!" I pulled up my binoculars and looked at the shape. Sure enough, a drone shaped hole in the sky was there.
"Shot one?"
"Short circuit grenade, go." I figured it wasn't going to work, but it might give us some idea of the thing's capabilities. Sure enough, when the grenade hit, the drone only wobbled a little. Through the binoculars, I watched it extend an arm out the side. "Shit, it's got something out. Can you tell what it is?"
"Give me those, and I'll see." He grabbed the binocs, then swore. "It's one of those laser scopes–" his sentence was cut off as a red light shone down on the rooftoop. The angle of the beam showed us the drone was still moving quickly. If we wanted to intercept it, we'd have to move fast.
What followed was a ridiculous deployment of tech. Pete and I both shot the thing with weapons resembling harpoon guns. In turn, it tried to electrocute us, cut the ropes with the laser, and set us on fire with a flame thrower. Fortunately, we had measures to counteract all of these defences, and in a few minutes, we had the drone on the roof, rotors off, and AI disabled.
"Damn but it's a big 'un." It really was. A meter long, and over half a meter wide, it was unusually big, even for London. The black colour was unsettling, and something seemed...off.
"I'm getting a weird feeling. Let's be really careful when we open this one, hey?"
"Agreed."
Disabling the outer locks was shockingly easy, given everything we'd seen to that point, but we were "rewarded" by a strange mist emanating out when we pulled off the main flight assembly.
"Fuck! Back off." I was starting to worry about the time, but a lucky gust of wind came and blew whatever it was away. We had the lid off quickly with a lever, and then we were looking at the inner capsule. It was round, and appeared to have to seams on it.
"Now what? We can't get this off the roof." We heard sirens, and turned to look toward them. They seemed to be coming from everywhere, but streets are a maze where we were, so it was hard to tell how many police where coming. More than one car though, that was sure.
I put my hand on the capsule, and tried to roll it, to see if there was some way to open it on the bottom. But as I did, a seam appeared where none had been, and a lid popped open to reveal:
"Fuck, why did that asshole send us to get a body?"
"I don't think it's a body, P."
A perfect human girl lay curled up in the pod, apparently asleep. She was wearing a strange jumpsuit, but what skin I could see was flawless. Her hair spread out in a corona of curls on the cushioning around her. She was beautiful. Also, she was blue.
"Liv, we gotta go." I turned to look at Pete, then back to the girl.
"But, what if she's in trouble? We can't just leave her!"
"*We're* going to be in trouble if we don't get out of here."
"One sec." I looked at him, and our ropes. "How do you feel about parkour with a passenger?"
"Oh, fuck." | |
[WP] Delivery drones are armed to deter thieves, but the more heavily defended a drone is the better the loot. The golden age of drone piracy is now lads. | SYSERR 10067 - DRONE_408212 NOT RESPONSIVE FOR 500uS
Starting audio analysis subroutine . . .
EVENT 40045 - AUDIO EVENT LOGGED
DISPLAYING ANALYSIS PROBABILITY
GUNSHOT - 98.4%
HIGH CALIBER RIFLE - 2.4%
MEDIUM CALIBER RIFLE - 68.5%
HIGH CALIBER PISTOL - 1.1%
MEDIUM CALIBER PISTOL / LOW CALIBER RIFLE - 34.3%
LOW CALIBER PISTOL - 2.3%
SUBSONIC WEAPON - 0.4%
LIGHTNING STRIKE - 9.4%
AUDIO EQUIPMENT MALFUNCTION - 0.4%
OTHER - 1.2%
Starting image analysis subroutine . . .
EVENT 60033 - INDIVIDUAL LOGGED
MATCH - FACIAL RECOGNITION - 99.8%
{
AMAZON_GLOBAL_ID: “81b8a1b77068d06e”,
LAST_NAME: “KING”,
FIRST_NAME: “FATIMA”,
AMAZON_PRIME_MEMBER: False,
PREVIOUS_INCIDENTS: {
“594f803b380”,
“a41396ed63d”,
“ca395035424”
}
}
MATCH - FIREARM - 92.6%
{
TYPE: “LONG_BARREL_RIFLE”,
ACTION: “BOLT_ACTION”,
CALIBER: “.30-06”
}
Processing . . .
PROBABILITY OF INDIVIDUAL 81b8a1b77068d06e CAUSING DRONE_408212 MALFUNCTION - 89.3%
REQUEST HQ FOR PERMISSION TO ENGAGE . . .
REQUEST APPROVED!
Starting suspect engagement protocol . . .
POST ENGAGEMENT REPORT
{
DRONES_DAMAGED: [],
SUSPECT_STATUS: [
“81b8a1b77068d06e”: “NEUTRALIZED”
],
ROUNDS_EXPENT: 37,
DELAY_TO_CUSTOMER: 34.26S
}
Starting engagement report upload to local law enforcement . . .
DONE!
Starting lost asset recovery subroutine . . .
IMMEDIATE RECOVERY - IMPRACTICAL
Sending last known location of DRONE_408212 to HQ for recovery . . .
DONE!
\-- Item #006 in Washington State v Fatima King, recovered from Amazon Drone 408111 | Colin leaned against the truck, lounging in its flat bed, his half-open eyes scanning the sky for movement. Bored with looking at nothing he yawned and stretched his arms, the rifle at his hip clinking against the truck’s metal frame. After a week on drone spotting he regretted speaking up at the last council, but he didn’t regret what he said. The drones were getting smarter, faster, and stronger, their current tactics would get someone killed. Though, telling the chief he was an idiot for ignoring the signs may not have been the most diplomatic of approaches.
The sound of a swarm of mosquitoes buzzed on the horizon and Colin leapt up to his feet. With his hand over his eyes he scanned the deserted town. A rusting blue water tower tilted like the Leaning Tower of Pisa with the words, “welcome to Hel..” the rest of the words obscured by the chipping paint of the Cyber age. Behind it, a small black dot buzzed forward, eager to get somewhere.
Colin smiled and slapped on the roof of the hood, “Got one!”
The engine roared to life, and the car jerked into gear tossing Colin onto his back. The wind flew from his lungs as the truck bounced over the rubble-filled road. With a growl he smacked his hand on the open plastic window that separated him from the driver.
“What’s the big idea?”
“Aren’t you the one who said, ‘we can’t waste any time?’” The girl said. She looked back and winked through her tinted goggles.
“I also said ‘safety is never a waste of time.”
“Well then, you won’t like this, it’s headed for the woods.” Her hands spun the wheel round and round, causing the truck to skid sideways and almost rolling it over.
Colin grabbed onto the railing of the flatbed and gripped his rifle. They were gaining on the small black drone, but they couldn’t follow it through the trees. He aimed his gun, the red dot in his lens obscuring the flying machine. He clicked his tongue and slammed his palm on the roof of the car.
“It’s too far.”
“Not for long,” the girl said pushing down on the gas pedal. The car rocked around as the wheels left the pavement for dirt and a cloud puffed up behind them. “Get read to aim right.”
Colin rolled his eyes and fell to the bed of the truck tucking his rifle into his armpit. His heart was racing, they were speeding right into the tree line. “What’s your plan?” he asked.
The girl laughed, and the car skidded again the back of the flatbed knocking against a tree, before he could scold her, they were moving too fast to sit up to the window. Biting his lip, he did the only thing he could. Trust her. He aimed right, where he could only see tree line. Then, there was a clearing, a path through the forest from the cyber age where rows of telephone poles cleared out the life.
A black dot shined and his gun snapped to it. Adjusting to his speed, the drones, and the bullets drop, he smiled and pulled the trigger.
The bang sent birds scattering and a crack of blue light lit up the sky. A path of smoke leading to where the drone had fallen. The car stopped, and the girl got out to stretch. “I’m going to take a nap. Good luck finding it out there.”
“Sure you don’t want to come?” Colin asked as he hopped out of the truck slinging the gun onto his back.
She looked at the tower of smoke that pointed to the middle of the dense forest and smirked. “Nope. I’ll let you handle it.”
Colin groaned, but the driver had no obligation to accompany the hunter. Too many things about this gang were silly, he’d let chief hear his complaints.
His journey through the forest left him with scratches all over his arms and face, while everything under his waist somehow covered in mud. The pillar of smoke was fading, but he was close enough to guess where it landed, over a small creek surrounded by thick bushes. The drone’s parachute had activated and now had it caught on a branch.
Colin waded through the shin deep creek and using his gun as a poker knocked the drone down. In one motion he holstered his weapon and caught the drone. He opened the small carrying compartment and saw the note inside.
“Pirates under the highway 65 70 intersection clover.”
His heart stopped. The carriers knew where they lived.
~~~
/r/Quarklaserdisc | |
[WP] Delivery drones are armed to deter thieves, but the more heavily defended a drone is the better the loot. The golden age of drone piracy is now lads. | Night hangs over the city like an inky black shroud, cloaking it in darkness.
And under cover of darkness, the city springs to life. The airways are buzzing tonight - it’s a big sales night, and countless deliveries are being flown to countless homes. The city’s like a living organism on nights like these - the airways blood vessels, the drones blood cells, the packages life-giving oxygen. Buy this, buy that. Do you really need another back-scratcher? Another boxed set of DVDs? Of course you do. One-click purchase makes it easier than ever. Buy now, and it’ll be at your doorstep in an hour or less. Capitalism is alive and well, and everyone in this city wants something.
Unfortunately for our friendly neighborhood megacorporations, not everyone wants to pay.
The modified rotors of the custom Aspect T25 slice through the icy night air. It’s an interesting beast. Though designed as a heavy construction drone, the T25 has two main selling points that Aspect Systems refuses to openly advertise. One, the hardpoints for attaching construction equipment are compatible (by sheer coincidence, mind you) with highly illegal ‘whammy’ drone-to-drone disruptor weaponry.
And two, it’s built like a flying tank.
It’s point two that keeps Griffin’s drone in the air tonight. The highly customized drone strains under the weight of its stolen cargo, swaying after the loss of two of its rotors. It’s a heavy loss, but Griffin is no ordinary pilot, and he can fly with six rotors, no sweat. Under his careful guidance, the T25 slips out of Airway C23546 and goes off the grid. Its identifier blinks off, and its carefully arranged stealth fields flicker on. It’s now invisible to all but the most sophisticated detectors. Many miles away, Griffin pushes up his goggles as the autopilot kicks in to fly the Twenty-Five home.
“How’s the haul tonight, Griff?” A voice crackles in through his headset.
“Pretty shit. Some knockoff Gen 1 phasers out of China, busted me up pretty good when they saw my approach and got a few shots off. I’ll be lucky if the haul pays for repairs.” Griffin lies smoothly. In this business, bragging only invites jealousy - or worse, robbery.
“Hah, I keep telling you, man - gotta get your hands on one of the new Vipers. They’ve got a new blade design that’s almost silent. You could fly one in a fuckin’ library. And they’ve got the sensor cross-section of a flea.”
“Sure, Q. As long as you don’t mind it going down when a stray rock hits it.”
“Come on! The gen twos can survive most small-arms fire.”
“Uhhuh. Hey, I gotta go - I’ll catch you later, okay?”
“Sure.” The line goes dead with a click, and Griff leans back in his seat, wiping his brow. He lifts a half-empty drink can to his lips, drains it, and sighs. Despite what he’s told Q, there’s no knockoff phaser package strapped to his drone’s belly.
A stolen combat drone prototype hangs in the T25’s magnetized claws. It’s the latest out of Sato Robotics’ R&D department. It sports pulse weapons, nanosteel layered armor, the latest sensor packages, and a top speed of almost 400 miles an hour. It’s worth a fortune.
And Sato’s not about to let it go without a fight. Suddenly, a blaring tone echoes through the basement.
CONTACT: INCOMING SATO SECURITY. FOUR SATO X-50’S ON INTERCEPT.
Briefly, he considers dropping the package, letting the Sato drones recover it. If his drone goes down in a fight with Sato’s X-50s, he won’t have enough money left to buy another. He’d lose everything.
Then again, the risk is worth it.
He cracks his knuckles and pulls his headset back on.
---
*Want more? Join /r/OneMillionWords* | It didn’t matter that it was illegal, it was fun. New gangs had started as aerial wars took place. Thieves has entire garages setup to control their drones in VR racing style pods. These were the dog fights of the skies.
Generations of adults and kids growing up on video games ad never prepared police and amazon for the mass thievery. At first it was just people trying to get other people’s ordered goods, petty theft. But as delivery grew so did the goods. It didn’t take police long to start getting involved but hunting down thieves were near impossible. Drone hunting was the newest and hottest crime. Digital leaderboards had started popping up showing which gangs has scored the most loot and best number of drones downed.
Authorities soon realized they were no match for these aged gamer thieves and their superior flight and skill ability. Which led Amazon to create their own third party defense. Triple D, Drone Defense Department, was third party group of hired gamers and flyers to defend the most precious of cargos. We had our own leaderboard, the board of packages safely delivered and the board of drones downed.
It was a highly sought after job. The Triple D leaderboard had recently been added to the gangs as they rate pilots in defense. Keeping a K/D ratio spread. I’m the best...called the Baron. Never been downed on a defense mission, and this only put on the most important cargo.
However this has had quite the repercussion, as the only undefeated flyer more and more pilot pirates come after packages I’m delivering to take me on. It’s most concerning as we don’t advertise who protects what. It means there is a leak, someone promoting these aerial wars, maybe the packages aren’t the most important product. | |
[WP] While helping clean your recently deceased grandmother's house, you find a thick leather-bound book. You open it to find sketches of plants and symbols, unrecognizable words, and personal notes from her life. The back cover has a symbol that matches perfectly a birthmark on your wrist. |
Aaron’s eyes were laced with cobwebs and he could feel the weight tugging on his eyelashes. Blinking them away only seemed to summon them causing him to ultimately give up his futile attempt and complete the task at hand. Going through the loft that must have been built centuries ago, the small bulb that illumined the room swayed about, causing his shadow to shift. The brunet wasn’t OCD but the frustration was programmed through his mind.
His grieving mother said that she wanted to give her mother another chance at life by preserving the things that she was sure were valuable while passing on through yard sales less meaningful things, to give them another chance to truly shine. To Aaron, this was BS, but he’d found a hundred dollar bill so he wouldn’t utter a complaint. His mind would though, as it hauled his head and forced a glare to challenge the dim light. The glare ultimately won, the light flickering before it was vanquished and cursed the fifteen-year-old to a world of darkness.
Sighing, he forced his crouched position to shift upwards to a standing stance and set the cardboard case full of old photographs of men he’d never seen down (his mother had always fumed about how his grandmother used to break up faster than she could ask her daughter how her day was), so he could stumble to where he there would be a flashlight. Pulling out a black outdated iPhone from his green hoodie, he switched the flashlight on and it weakly brightened the room. He was going to be here until the sunset over the horizon that was far beyond the small town of Ely, Minnesota so he preferred to reserve his battery until the very last second.
Almost blindly, he shuffled through the darkness (he might as well call it night, the phone barely showed a performance), cautious to his footing. Arriving at the corner where he recalled he left his few things, he began to saunter normally, sure there wasn’t any danger. Close to his flashlight, his foot was caught behind something and he took a tumble, proving his theory wrong. His arms went instinctively ahead of his body, taking a majority of his weight as his body slammed into the ground but his head wasn’t so lucky. So close to the corner, it was scraped by the cruel wall and Aaron could’ve sworn blood was drawn. Groaning in pain, he stayed with his stomach to the ground, held up by his arms for a good minute. When no one rushed up to ask if he was okay, he forced his body up and angrily grabbed the flashlight.
Flicking it on and a beam of life arising, he aimed it as if it were a rifle at what caused the boy embarrassment and pain and was quickly replaced by curiosity. A book, restrained by leather was unmoved and only had a small crook on it from what he assumed would be from his fall. Forgetting the task at hand, he reached forward with the pain dispersing as quickly as it arrived and grabbed the book before bringing it back to his corner. Crossing his legs as elementary students would, he placed the canto in his lap and took note that it had no cover. Notes, postcards, and stickys stuck out from any edge of the work and only fueled his curiosity.
Flipping the cover, the teenager was not disappointed. There were all sorts of fantastical plants and the occasional bug or two, following with text. But the text wasn’t in English or the German that he knew his ancestors spoke - it was symbols, perhaps something you’d find in a video game? But the boy was a nerd. He would know what video-game that would be from. Maybe it was something the elderly woman had created to bid her time before her untimely death? Impossible, she died from Alzheimer's - how could she create a whole language, a whole other world when she couldn’t even remember her name?
Swallowing down the questions he yearned to ask his mother, he glimpsed at the notes that were haphazardly attached. It seemed like she had been writing to someone but of course, not in English or German. Only the notes of this other world were English. They were written like a biography, her writing about how the government worked, how the skies were covered in smoke but birds of colors across the spectrum lit it up, how the monster-like animals would scurry around. Was she a writer? Aaron didn’t fancy books but he was sure he’d recall if anyone with his blood penned something.
Then, the very last page. A silver key accompanied with a thin padlock lock slipped out and landed on the wooden ground with a quiet click and he spent no time hesitating to pick it up. It had patterns and swirls that would appear on a coloring page and the head had a knife-like edge. Unlike the dusty old book, this was well maintained as if someone shined it every day and the following night. The lock was in the same genre as the last, clean, artistic and silver. Moving the bumblebee patterned flashlight to be held by his mouth and putting the key into his left hand and holding the lock in his right, he hoped to slip one through the other but faced a barrier. The key wouldn’t turn yet went all the way through. No matter how hard the petite boy strained, it was stuck like glue.
Sighing and pulling it out, he closed the book and was ready to keep it to himself to investigate when a symbol caught his eyes. An S with a line down the middle, with a miniature dot a centimeter below. This book was too old and the symbol was engraved... There’s no way that all this might have been written after he was born? But he was sure it was no accident that the symbol was identical to the one on his right wrist. Maybe the key and lock had something to do with it?
The key had a sharp edge and though Aaron didn’t have a history with self-harm, even he couldn’t resist the entice of learning if blood had something to do with it. Imagine if doing so would drug him into believing he was in a different world! The idea of it was tempting and besides, there were bound to be bandaids somewhere. With the flashlight still gagging him, he held the key in his left hand once more - he wished he was left-handed so this would be easier to aim - and decided that the little dot at the bottom would have something to do with the key. Moving his hand down, he winced as the edge pierced through his skin and went in a few centimeters. Once the initial pain wore off, it barely stung as blood slowly puddled up.
Trying once more to slip the key into the lock, he almost laughed at his stupidity before he dropped the flashlight out of his mouth with a clang. The key turned and his mouth remained agape until a blinding light attacked him. Turning his head at the white light, he tried to cover it with his hands but found his hands slowly fading. “What the fu…” He didn’t even have time to finish, as both his hands began to seemingly fade away, turning white before disappearing. Fear didn’t even have time to strike through him, because he was already gone, all that was left of him a book, lock, and key. | I had to sit down for this. The sketches were immaculate, the plant life was unrecognizable, and the few creatures illustrated were alien as well. I'd guess herbivore, or something like a squirrel, but I don't really know. It's all a bit much to take in.
I wanted something from my grandma. I knew she was a naturalist and a writer. I wanted to have something she wrote, to run my fingers down the page and feel closer to her. We were like-minded and I didn't realize that until she was gone, that might be the great tragedy of my life thus far. And now here I was, guided by instinct to this masterwork that I can't begin to describe.
I know she loved me, she paid for me to go to the finest schools she could afford. She wanted me to see as much of the world as I could, to experience everything life had to offer. She was constantly traveling, and would disappear for months at a time. Was this what she was doing, I wondered as I ran my fingers across the illustrations.
A loose sheet of paper stopped me in my tracks:
*Dearest Eilie,*
*I hope this finds you in good spirits. I'm sorry I wasn't able to share this grand adventure with you. I wanted you to know as much as I do, so I wrote this for you, for when you are ready. Don't rush into it sweetheart, but when you do give it your all. You'll know what I mean when you touch the back cover*
*Love, Olivia*
A single tear wormed its way down my cheek as I flipped the heavy tome over. There was a blemish in the leather that looked just like a mark on the inside of my wrist, mirrored. After admiring the similarity for a minute, I turned my arm over and touched my wrist to the mark. I heard a click and whirl as a portion of the cover fell into itself, into another dimension. I could feel the breeze, the scent of lavender. I could see grasslands with blades shaped like tulip leaves, and enormous iridescent trees in the background. I could see a few birds in the distance. It was real, no, more than real. I haven't felt this in a long time. Like I was almost home. Just fall in.
"Lele!" a heard someone yell up the steps, as I yanked my wrist away. The book whirred and closed itself in an instant as my brother poked his head into the attic, "hey there you are! We're going to get food in town, do you wanna go?"
Maybe the shellshocked look on my face worried him, cause a moment later he asked, "are you alright?"
"Yeah, just going through Nana Livi's stuff is hard," I bumbled out.
He smirked in that way he always does, "well, are you hungry?"
*Yes.* "I'm alright, I'll be here when you guys get back," I said.
"Okay weirdo, don't get lost in here," he said as he descended.
His words shook me a bit. I always wondered if he was attuned like I was, it was something I didn't want to ask but always wanted to know. I waited until I heard the first car pull out of the driveway and I touched the back cover again. | |
[WP] Dragons reenter the modern world and soon defeat the military. The dragons can only be harmed in melee combat with a knight, so a talent agent gathers an army of celebrities who have been knighted - Patrick Stewart, Ian McKellan, Mick Jagger, Sean Connery, Elton John, Daniel Day-Lewis, etc. | "Gentlemen, we've got this."
Technically knights, Dames Helen Mirren, Maggie Smith, Emma Thompson and Judi Dench strode purposefully into the room. Their spear counterparts stood as the ladies entered the room, though it took some of the knights a split second to realize that they were ladies, given their peculiar mode of dress.
Leather aprons. Heavy welding gloves. Hair already cut very short, as they always tended to wear it. Stout, steel-banded boots.
It was Sir Patrick Stewart who got it first, and his sonorous voice explained it for those who had briefly forgotten the foremost of Britain's great Knights and Her Majesty's greatest authority on how to deal with dragons.
"A man is not dead while his name is still spoken?" he asked.
"Sybil Ramkin Battalion, reporting for duty," Dame Maggie replied, smoothly, looking like the best Granny Weatherwax that had ever been cast for stage or screen.
The dragon problem was solved in approximately twelve hours, as were the boiler problems in several dozen Listed properties and the low visitor turnout issues at no less than four zoos, a wildlife preserve, and one lovely little undersized Highland Gray they decided to call Dash wound up living at Balmoral Castle and heating the floors for Her Majesty. The royal great-grandchildren like to feed him bits of coal and Dash has learned to puff steam letters for them in Morse code. Several schools also employ Highland Grays for heating now, as they use purely domestic coal, are highly efficient from a carbon perspective and contribute greatly to class morale.
/GNU Sir Terry Pratchett | Once the news broke, those who had been knighted gathered to defend the rest of humanity from the triumphant dragons. In the initial briefing the terms were disclosed to the crowded room full of knights. Sir Martin Short kept interrupting and making large hand waving motions during the discussion as if to try to convey via hand waving as to how this should work.
After the third time Sir Short interrupted the discussion, a thick Scottish accent rang out from the back, "Shut the fuck up and get off the stage Short. You are a bloody idiot, and no one fucking cares..." The room erupted into applause as Sir Connery sat back down.
After about 30 minutes of drawing lots to see who would go in what order, it was determined that Sir Short should go first. Sir Connery, Sir Guiliani, Sir Greenspan, Sir Spielberg, Sir Bono, Sir Powell, Sir Franks, Sir Schwartzkopf, Sir Jagger, and Sir Hopkins all found this incredibly amusing.
Sir Short goes out with a stick and makes a bunch of hand waving movements to poke the dragon. As he gets close enough to the dragon to hit it, he realizes that Sir Stewart has actually given him a broom handle instead of a lance. While the entire assembled bunch of knights are rolling laughing at Sir Short waving a broom handle, Sir Connery and Sir Hopkins shout in unison, "your mother rides a vacuum cleaner, Short!"; which only further embroils the crowd in laughter.
As Sir Short turns around to wave a middle finger, the Dragon's front foot lands squarely on top of Sir Short, and all that remained once the foot moved was a greasy blood smear and splinters.
Next up are several others who attempt vainly to fell the beast. Sir Schwartzkopf attempts to ride an F-16 fighter jet straight into the beast, and it did manage to mortally wound it, but he perished during the crash.
Sir Hopkins manages to grab one of the brute's feet with a whip and hold it at bay, but his strength is only able to keep a portion of the beast controlled. As the beast is flailing the other forward limb at Sir Hopkins, he shows the fleetfootedness evident of a much younger man. One wonders what he does to keep father time at bay...perhaps the queen gives him some of her magic potion?
At any rate, a sufficiently drunk, and very loud, Scotsman goes jumping off the 3rd story of a building near the beast while waving a sword. As Sir Hopkins keeps one foot pinned with the whip, it appears Sir Connery has stabbed the beast in the neck. While the Dragon attempts to swing Sir Connery off, he drinks the other half of the whisky bottle he was holding and tosses it aside to grab the sword more tightly with both hands.
A good five minutes or so pass before the beast has lost enough blood to start tiring out at this point; after another thirty or so minutes, it finally falls to the ground completely unable to resist any longer.
Sir Hopkins looks at Sir Connery, "bloody hell Sean, I could have used a drink too, y'know..."
Sir Connery does not even look at him and responds, "I tried to toss you the bottle Tony..."
H: "Bloody hell you did, it was fucking empty...I know...it made 90% of the way to me, I could see it..."
C: "Desperate times call for desperate measures...."
H: "And where the hell were you when I grabbed the leg? I thought you were going to stab it once I got it pinned..."
C: "I bloody well stabbed him right in the fucking neck did I not?"
H: "Fucking hell, sure took you long enough..."
C: "Stop bitching, I have a case of whisky in my trailer...we need a drink..."
H: "Best thing you said all day...except for the crack about Short's mum."
C: "Fucking hell, I played Arthur, played a bloody dragon, and now I literally killed a dragon with Arthur's fucking sword...and ended up covered in dragon blood"
H: "Now you're the one bitching...crack a bottle already old man"
C: "OLD? You know, without the two of us those fucking wankers would have been done without a prayer..."
H: "Bleedin' hell pour the fucking drinks already..."
C: "Fine, fine...you sound like my ex-wife..."
H: "You sound like a sober Sean Connery, which is much more annoying than a drunk one..."
C: "Touche" | |
[WP] Dragons reenter the modern world and soon defeat the military. The dragons can only be harmed in melee combat with a knight, so a talent agent gathers an army of celebrities who have been knighted - Patrick Stewart, Ian McKellan, Mick Jagger, Sean Connery, Elton John, Daniel Day-Lewis, etc. | "Gentlemen, we've got this."
Technically knights, Dames Helen Mirren, Maggie Smith, Emma Thompson and Judi Dench strode purposefully into the room. Their spear counterparts stood as the ladies entered the room, though it took some of the knights a split second to realize that they were ladies, given their peculiar mode of dress.
Leather aprons. Heavy welding gloves. Hair already cut very short, as they always tended to wear it. Stout, steel-banded boots.
It was Sir Patrick Stewart who got it first, and his sonorous voice explained it for those who had briefly forgotten the foremost of Britain's great Knights and Her Majesty's greatest authority on how to deal with dragons.
"A man is not dead while his name is still spoken?" he asked.
"Sybil Ramkin Battalion, reporting for duty," Dame Maggie replied, smoothly, looking like the best Granny Weatherwax that had ever been cast for stage or screen.
The dragon problem was solved in approximately twelve hours, as were the boiler problems in several dozen Listed properties and the low visitor turnout issues at no less than four zoos, a wildlife preserve, and one lovely little undersized Highland Gray they decided to call Dash wound up living at Balmoral Castle and heating the floors for Her Majesty. The royal great-grandchildren like to feed him bits of coal and Dash has learned to puff steam letters for them in Morse code. Several schools also employ Highland Grays for heating now, as they use purely domestic coal, are highly efficient from a carbon perspective and contribute greatly to class morale.
/GNU Sir Terry Pratchett | After the explosion, the building is almost all rubble, fire, heat and smoke. The dust from shattered concrete and ash floats through the colorful light of sunset. All the members of the fellowship, look up, exhausted, to see the largest of the dragons as it looms over them. Amongst the rubble, black like metallic coal, it looks far more impressive up close, terrifyingly unbeatable.
Immense, the air whips about as the beast inhales to fuel its Dragonfire when it rears up and ushers a horrific scream. head up, it belches fire to the heavens and collapses under its own weight, shaking the earth and upsetting the rubble.
as the fellowship of knights looks over the fallen dragon, they see the large broadsword that pierced the dragons back. standing upright we see someone climbing up on the dragon's back and with great effort, pull the sword up and away, inertia pulls the sword overhead into a majestic pose as if scripted in an action film.
as the smoke and dust lighten we see Christian Bale is holding the sword.
The fellowship look at each other and don't understand . "how can it be?" "he's not a knight"
Helen Mirren booms her voice "Au Contraire comrades, he is the greatest knight of all..." "We're back in it boys! we can still emerge the victors!"
They rise to their feet helping the weak and come to assemble in the center of the rubble. Clint Eastwood, loading his pistols, growls to the group "Let's finish this."
\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ | |
[WP] Dragons reenter the modern world and soon defeat the military. The dragons can only be harmed in melee combat with a knight, so a talent agent gathers an army of celebrities who have been knighted - Patrick Stewart, Ian McKellan, Mick Jagger, Sean Connery, Elton John, Daniel Day-Lewis, etc. | "Gentlemen, we've got this."
Technically knights, Dames Helen Mirren, Maggie Smith, Emma Thompson and Judi Dench strode purposefully into the room. Their spear counterparts stood as the ladies entered the room, though it took some of the knights a split second to realize that they were ladies, given their peculiar mode of dress.
Leather aprons. Heavy welding gloves. Hair already cut very short, as they always tended to wear it. Stout, steel-banded boots.
It was Sir Patrick Stewart who got it first, and his sonorous voice explained it for those who had briefly forgotten the foremost of Britain's great Knights and Her Majesty's greatest authority on how to deal with dragons.
"A man is not dead while his name is still spoken?" he asked.
"Sybil Ramkin Battalion, reporting for duty," Dame Maggie replied, smoothly, looking like the best Granny Weatherwax that had ever been cast for stage or screen.
The dragon problem was solved in approximately twelve hours, as were the boiler problems in several dozen Listed properties and the low visitor turnout issues at no less than four zoos, a wildlife preserve, and one lovely little undersized Highland Gray they decided to call Dash wound up living at Balmoral Castle and heating the floors for Her Majesty. The royal great-grandchildren like to feed him bits of coal and Dash has learned to puff steam letters for them in Morse code. Several schools also employ Highland Grays for heating now, as they use purely domestic coal, are highly efficient from a carbon perspective and contribute greatly to class morale.
/GNU Sir Terry Pratchett | Everything was set.
The dragon was bearing down on them, and it’s roar made the very ground shake as more and more dragons appeared in the sky towards the gathering below.
Smoke appeared from nostrils from a hundred different points, filling the noon sky with so much ash that it blotted out the sun.
“No, no, it won’t be a problem,” someone said.
“We can just use stage lighting.”
As the dragons bore down on them towards them, someone shouted “Now!” Just as the last dragon hit the ground in front of them.
That’s when the curtain pulled back, Elton began to play, Mick began to sing the opening theme, and the play began.
***Two hours later-***
The dragons shook with the psychic damage of what they had just experienced, cowed by guilt due to the stunning display of humanity that had been on display in front of them.
“About halfway through there, I admit it, I thought they were going to light the stage on fire,” Mick said.
Pat and Ian were taken aback.
“You think that would’ve been a problem?” Pat said.
“We would’ve improvised, but of course!” Ian said, translating.
“I would’ve like to have sheen that,” Connery said.
**
(edit)-More short form (hopefully) hilarious stuff here-
[RealityZero](www.reddit.com/r/realityzero) | |
[WP] Dragons reenter the modern world and soon defeat the military. The dragons can only be harmed in melee combat with a knight, so a talent agent gathers an army of celebrities who have been knighted - Patrick Stewart, Ian McKellan, Mick Jagger, Sean Connery, Elton John, Daniel Day-Lewis, etc. | "Gentlemen, we've got this."
Technically knights, Dames Helen Mirren, Maggie Smith, Emma Thompson and Judi Dench strode purposefully into the room. Their spear counterparts stood as the ladies entered the room, though it took some of the knights a split second to realize that they were ladies, given their peculiar mode of dress.
Leather aprons. Heavy welding gloves. Hair already cut very short, as they always tended to wear it. Stout, steel-banded boots.
It was Sir Patrick Stewart who got it first, and his sonorous voice explained it for those who had briefly forgotten the foremost of Britain's great Knights and Her Majesty's greatest authority on how to deal with dragons.
"A man is not dead while his name is still spoken?" he asked.
"Sybil Ramkin Battalion, reporting for duty," Dame Maggie replied, smoothly, looking like the best Granny Weatherwax that had ever been cast for stage or screen.
The dragon problem was solved in approximately twelve hours, as were the boiler problems in several dozen Listed properties and the low visitor turnout issues at no less than four zoos, a wildlife preserve, and one lovely little undersized Highland Gray they decided to call Dash wound up living at Balmoral Castle and heating the floors for Her Majesty. The royal great-grandchildren like to feed him bits of coal and Dash has learned to puff steam letters for them in Morse code. Several schools also employ Highland Grays for heating now, as they use purely domestic coal, are highly efficient from a carbon perspective and contribute greatly to class morale.
/GNU Sir Terry Pratchett | When the Dragons returned so did their magic.
They wrought their destruction relentlessly on the humans, a revenge they had long awaited.
The knights had fought well.
Sir John the bard used the power of his song to disorient the beasts, Daaug the Destructive's ears bled to a blend of Tiny Dancer and Sympathy for the devil with the help of Sir Jagger. He lost control and its Sapphire body laid lifeless in Wembley Stadium.
Sir Day-Lewis didn't really fight.. he stood and started to monologue on the top of the Shard, "Forescore, and seven years a..." His body was flung across London and smashed into the pretruding stalagmite that was Big Ben.
Sir Connery pulled the remains of Sir Day-Lewis from beneath a piece of fallen rubble. He used his lifeless body to smite the black dragon Kraag from the sky, with his broadsword he pierced it's heart and covered himself with his blood. "FOR QUEEN AND COUNTRY MY BROTHERS. LET US STRIKE AT THE HEART!" His magnificent kilt blowing in the wind, all the other knights shielded their eyes at the sight of his wrinkly heroic balls.
Sir Stewart took up the very royal sword that had knighted them and fought side by side with McKellen, who had awoken a magical of ability of his own blessed to him on the set of Lord of the Rings many years before. At the sight of Connery charging toward the source of the dragons he took a lowly moth from a blackened tree and whispered "Suubuuudduuubuuudaaablluu" and summoned the great eagles to fly him and Sir Stewart to follow the charging Scottish man.
As they approached Buckingham Palace, Sir Connery breached the gates. He shouted up to the Knights on the eagles:
"REMEMBER BOYS! THE WINNER GETS TO FUCK THE PROM..." His words were cut off by the sound of roaring fire bellowing from the Dread King. Smaug the Dread king melted the bones off the old Bond star.
"My old enemy... it was foretold by Tolkien of yoir reign..." Sir Mckellen looked over the destruction on his eagle. Sir Connery was their stongest sword wielder. You can only slay Smaug with a pierce to the heart, the dragon arrows were long extinct so it would take an enchanted blade.
Sir Stewart gestured to his old friend, "We need him... you know what to do brother. I will keep him as busy as I can." He flew with his royal sword out stretched right into Smaug's treasure horde. " FOR QUEEN AND COUNTRY!"
Sir Mckellen took a deep breath and pulled the book of the dead from his bag and began the enchantment. They needed a hero. A man that knew the old ways like no other. The man who had shaken the hand of tolkien himself. The true gandalf.
He completed the enchantment and a creature in deep black armor arose from the ground. "A soul for a soul." Mckellen fell from the eagle as his soul was traded for the life of his old friend.
The man they need.
Sir Christopher Lee rose, brandishing his Charlemagne blade. "The time has come" he called in his booming voice.
"Dread King, our final battle will be now. We have fought for eternity on the other side but now I will smite you from every plane foul beast."
To be continued... | |
[WP] Dragons reenter the modern world and soon defeat the military. The dragons can only be harmed in melee combat with a knight, so a talent agent gathers an army of celebrities who have been knighted - Patrick Stewart, Ian McKellan, Mick Jagger, Sean Connery, Elton John, Daniel Day-Lewis, etc. | "That's all that's left of the A-team?" General Ripper asked incredulously.
"Yup. A pile of ashes and... uh... Mick Jagger's partly digested corpse."
"What? Care to explain?"
"It seems Arkathrax, Scourge of the Great Concavity was not much able to keep Mr. Jagger down. So he was vomited up upon armored division 21."
The general put his face in his palms and hunched over, equally defeated and thoughtful.
"Did we at least get in a few hits?"
"Yeah, Sir McKellan did clip a wing after watching Sir Steward get bludgeoned by Ixkyryzzyk, Eternal Flame of Trasero."
"Well, what do we do now? Are we out of Knights?"
"Hardly sir. We're out of famous Knights, which is a problem for public relations purposes, but the Queen is cranking them out as quickly as she can flick her wrist and tell them to rise. The problem isn't so much the supply of Knights, as the fact that we have to engage the Dragons in melee. Their sorcerous protections are quite effective against projectiles and concussive blasts... and obviously they like anything that produces heat. As you know, we've been warned that resorting to nuclear or thermonuclear options would be highly counterproductive."
A small cough emanated from the far corner of the War Room.
"Gentlemen, if I may," a voice from a figure seated in a wheel chair resounded. Colonel Paperclippershmidt had a marked Teutonic accent.
"As you can see, zis strategem vich you haf concocted has been highly unwirksam... er, how you say... suboptimal? Anyhow. You even tried having zee Stone kni-"
"Rock. It's The Rock"
"Sir Johnson, yes, ze big wrestler viz ze remarklable physique. You gave him ze experimental quantum chainsaw. It didn't work."
"What's your point Colonel?"
"Ze drakens are too big for ze brawny approach. Let us try ze brainy approach."
"Continue."
"Well, ze Queen has a remarkable record of knighting Britain's brightest minds, perhaps someone smart can defeat ze drakens in melee."
"Are you going to be nominating yourself?"
"No, I'm... ineligible for such an honor. But zer is someone I zink might be capable..."
The sound of a wheelchair squeaking caught everyone's ears. It wasn't Paperclipperschmidt, however. The sound was coming from the other side of the room.
Slowly, a figure emerged into the light. Decked from head to toe in resplendent Titanium Alloy armor, powered by a cold fusion reactor and glowing brightly from unspeakable energies infusing what appeared to be an alien-designed wheel chair. Two robotic arms were appended and wielding what could only be described as Lightsabers.
A robotic voice announced "YOU BITCHES DIDN'T ACTUALLY THINK I WAS DEAD, DID YOU?" | "For the last fucking time Daniel, you don't need to act like a knight your method acting bullshit is not working." The rest of the rant was drowned out by the loud clanking as Daniel Day-Lewis took his seat in a full set of authentic plate armor, the chair was not however designed to accommodate a full suit of plate mail and collapsed. Patrick Stewart just sighed and looked at the rest of his motley crew of assholes, Someone had invited Ringo Star I don't know why he was just standing in the corner with a six foot long broadsword looking awkwardly around. Elton John was invited because to be frank we needed a ride and he had the biggest plane.
The only vaguely competent people we had were Micheal Caine, Patrick Stewart and Ian McKellan unfortunately Sean Connery decided everyone could use some dutch courage and they were all very drunk at this point. Just as we were all lamenting our certain defeat my assistant opened the door "Uh sir looks like Christopher Lee came back to life, something about Excalibur and the rightful defender of England either way all the dragons are dead you can go home." | |
[WP] As a dad, you obviously have a mug that claims you're the "#1 World's Best Dad". One day, you find on the news that all "Best Dad Mugs" now have actual ratings, the media is crazy about it, a photo shows a mug with #5,826,827 World's Best Dad on it, curious, you check yours. It still says #1. | I stared in awe for the third morning in a row.
How could I possibly be the number one dad in the world?
I hadn't been perfect. I'd been a dad for 15 years and while there had certainly been good times, there had also been a fair number of bad ones.
I'd struggled with addiction while adjusting to fatherhood in the early years. I'd missed a fair number of baseball games and school plays due to work. I'd struggled heavily with grief after we lost her mother and not supported her as well as I should have. I'd told her no to some things she'd wanted to do because we just couldn't afford it. I'd told her no to parties that I knew she was too young to be going to. I'd even had to break the news to her that we would have to move out of her childhood home because my single income couldn't keep paying the mortgage.
The apartment we moved to was nice enough, but I still felt like I'd failed her by having to move here.
I realized that I'd been lost in my thoughts and I was nearly late for work. The dishwasher was full so I quickly took my mug to the sink to wash it.
As the hot water ran over the surface of the mug, some of the paint began to wash away and reveal a new number underneath
"Number 13,248 Dad"
"That seems more realistic" I thought to myself as I put the now clean mug into the dish rack and headed out the door to work. "Maybe whoever made this happen just realized their mistake in calling me number one and decided to correct it".
As the work day dragged on, the mug was pushed from my mind as thoughts of getting my work done and getting home in time to make dinner set in.
When I finally got home that evening I found my daughter at the kitchen table. She was wearing headphones and sitting with her back to me with the whole surface of the table covered in newspaper. I could see a paint brush in her hand and I was happy to see that she was finding the time to do something she enjoyed on top of all her extra curriculars.
Then I saw what she was painting.
She had my mug in front of her.
She hadn't heard me come in, so I watched for a moment as she skillfully covered the five digit number with orange paint to match the rest of the mug. Then, a few more swishes of black paint, and the mug was back to to reading "Number 1 Dad" the same way it had this morning, the same way it had when I unwrapped it six Christmases ago.
As she was finishing up her work she turned and gasped when she realized that I had seen what she was doing.
We stood in silence for a moment before she came and pulled me into a big hug.
"13, 248th my ass. Look at how hard you work to give me a good life. There's no way in hell you aren't number one" | "How can this be? There must be some mistake". Ian checked his mug again and again. Nothing had changed, yet everything was different. At least that was what the news was reporting. The screen was jumping from one father to the next, interviewing and capturing their reactions to this new ranking system. 'World's Best Dad' mugs now had an accurate number corresponding to to how each dad ranked against others. It didn't matter the brand, the size, or anything else. If it held those three famous words, it now held an order.
Ian Checked his mug one last time. It hadn't changed since his wife gave it to him before his latest trip. "I'm not even in the same country," Ian thought. "I Haven't seen Emma in two months," raced another thought. Maybe this was a localized phenomenon. Ian jumped onto his laptop, searching different countries and continents. The stories all seemed to be consistent. Ian struggled to figure out the equation that lead to this singular truth, Ian was the #1 dad in the world.
Sure friends and family had told him how proud of him they were, proud of all the cleaning and helping he was doing after Emma's birth. "But that was nothing," Ian pondered. Any second rate husband would be doing all the same. Of course some people are stronger than others, "but how can I be #1?". Ian slouched back in his chair and began to picture Emma's birth.
"What?," Claire was shaking Ian awake. It was too early to be late for work, in fact it was the weekend. Ian had just gotten back from another trip the day before. "I think my water just broke," said Claire. Okay, okay stay calm. This is going to be alright, even if Emma wasn't due for another month.
In the delivery room was where they now slept. Claire was clear of pain now that she was drugged, and the two caught up on the lost sleep.
After push and push again, there she was. Nothing liked Ian imagined. Long, crumpled up tight, blue, and giving it her all to cry out in this cold new world. But still relief came over Ian. He got to cut the chord and hold her. Her eyes were as dark as the night black. But she was taken, quicker than Ian thought right. To another table, to another room, to another hospital. For two weeks Ian held Claire as the news got worse with each new specialist.
Ian's iPad erupted. It was Claire calling. She didn't pay attention to the news. Didn't know what danger he was in because he wouldn't tell her. She wouldn't have heard about the mugs yet.
"Good Morning love," Ian said.
"Hows your day been?," Claire responded.
"Uneventful," he lied.
They talked for some time before it was time for Ian to get some rest. As he hung up the all, he snagged one last look at his 'World's Best Dad' mug, still #1. He took a moment to cry silently to himself.
He resolved that the first thing he was going to do when he got back was take Claire to get some flowers and spend a great afternoon with Emma. | |
[WP] As a dad, you obviously have a mug that claims you're the "#1 World's Best Dad". One day, you find on the news that all "Best Dad Mugs" now have actual ratings, the media is crazy about it, a photo shows a mug with #5,826,827 World's Best Dad on it, curious, you check yours. It still says #1. | I stared in awe for the third morning in a row.
How could I possibly be the number one dad in the world?
I hadn't been perfect. I'd been a dad for 15 years and while there had certainly been good times, there had also been a fair number of bad ones.
I'd struggled with addiction while adjusting to fatherhood in the early years. I'd missed a fair number of baseball games and school plays due to work. I'd struggled heavily with grief after we lost her mother and not supported her as well as I should have. I'd told her no to some things she'd wanted to do because we just couldn't afford it. I'd told her no to parties that I knew she was too young to be going to. I'd even had to break the news to her that we would have to move out of her childhood home because my single income couldn't keep paying the mortgage.
The apartment we moved to was nice enough, but I still felt like I'd failed her by having to move here.
I realized that I'd been lost in my thoughts and I was nearly late for work. The dishwasher was full so I quickly took my mug to the sink to wash it.
As the hot water ran over the surface of the mug, some of the paint began to wash away and reveal a new number underneath
"Number 13,248 Dad"
"That seems more realistic" I thought to myself as I put the now clean mug into the dish rack and headed out the door to work. "Maybe whoever made this happen just realized their mistake in calling me number one and decided to correct it".
As the work day dragged on, the mug was pushed from my mind as thoughts of getting my work done and getting home in time to make dinner set in.
When I finally got home that evening I found my daughter at the kitchen table. She was wearing headphones and sitting with her back to me with the whole surface of the table covered in newspaper. I could see a paint brush in her hand and I was happy to see that she was finding the time to do something she enjoyed on top of all her extra curriculars.
Then I saw what she was painting.
She had my mug in front of her.
She hadn't heard me come in, so I watched for a moment as she skillfully covered the five digit number with orange paint to match the rest of the mug. Then, a few more swishes of black paint, and the mug was back to to reading "Number 1 Dad" the same way it had this morning, the same way it had when I unwrapped it six Christmases ago.
As she was finishing up her work she turned and gasped when she realized that I had seen what she was doing.
We stood in silence for a moment before she came and pulled me into a big hug.
"13, 248th my ass. Look at how hard you work to give me a good life. There's no way in hell you aren't number one" | When the news hit about the Dad mugs, I chuckled and wondered if the inscription on mine would simply fade out. I'd received the mug from a work colleague when I turned 35, as a tongue in cheek joke about my being the only single bachelor left in the company, when every long term relationship I ever had would eventually end up with a woman leaving and another lost piece of my broken heart. I chuckled politely and kept it to this day, refusing to show them how much it had hurt me.
Strangely enough, when I went into the kitchen to check, the mug still boldly claimed "#1 World's Best Dad". Maybe it was buggy. You see, the irony in this is that my adamant refusal to have kids had always been one of the major issues that led most of the women in my life to eventually leave me, every single time. It was not out of misanthropy, or for fear of commitment. But I just could not find it in me to bring another life into the world, into this world, this beautifully doomed world that we kept destroying day after day at an alarmingly increasing rate. I would have loved to have kids, but in the current state of the world it just seemed awfully selfish and cruel to do it. So no matter how much I wanted a child, and no matter how much it screwed my love life and broke my heart again and again, I always said no.
But as the news moved on from the novelty mug report to an ad about tonight's special documentary about student debt, and then to another video about Amazon rainforest fires and yet another drought brought by global warming, I told myself that my novelty mug was maybe not that buggy, after all... | |
[WP] As a dad, you obviously have a mug that claims you're the "#1 World's Best Dad". One day, you find on the news that all "Best Dad Mugs" now have actual ratings, the media is crazy about it, a photo shows a mug with #5,826,827 World's Best Dad on it, curious, you check yours. It still says #1. | I never thought about being a good father. It never even occurred to me-I just tried to do better than my own parents, and to always be there. To show up. They say the moment your child is born, the world changes for you. There's someone in your life in that moment that will always come first. That's how it was for me, when my Emily was born.
When she skinned her knees riding her bike, I was there with a kiss and a bandaid. I helped her back up, and gave her a push back down the path.
When she got in a fight at school, I took the day and picked her up. We talked about the fight, about what she did right, and what she did wrong. I grounded her, but she understood.
When her mother died, I held her hand at the funeral, and we cried together on the couch. She slept in my bed for weeks.
When she entered the eighth grade science fair, I stayed up long nights helping her make the best display in the district.
When she wanted to start dating, I told her that her safety always came first, and that I'd respect her decisions as long as her partners respected her. I still threatened poor Tommy Farley with a shotgun and a shell with his name on it...but she was in on the joke.
When she came out to me the next year, I held her close and told her I'd always love her, and whoever she chose to love. Then I threatened Sally Waters with the same shotgun, and she laughed again.
When she started submitting college applications, I started to research second mortgages.
When her first choice gave her a full ride in their engineering program, I sighed with relief. Then I put the money I'd put aside over the years for her college fund into a trust, so I knew she'd eat well at school and have a nest-egg to kick start whatever she wanted to do after she graduated.
When the news reported that all the '#1 Worlds Best Dad' mugs in the world were now accurately tracking rankings, I didn't bother checking the one in the back of my cupboard; my daughter was my number one, and that's all that mattered. Then I gave her a call. Said I was going to drive up to the city next week, and would she like to get dinner? She would. I never mentioned that I was only going to be in the city to have dinner with her. What other reason would I need?
 
--------------------------------------------
 
When the news reported that all the '#1 Worlds Best Dad' mugs were now accurately tracking, I laughed about it with my girlfriend. We both joked about what numbers our dads would have.
When mine called a few minutes later, I was ecstatic to have dinner with him that weekend. Of course I knew he didn't actually have anything to do in the city, but I wasn't going to call him on it. He's always been sweet like that.
When I went back home a few weeks later, I couldn't get the thought out of my head, though. So I went looking one morning, while he was still in bed. We hadn't talked about his mug-I thought maybe he was embarrassed, or worse - ashamed. I knew things hadn't always been easy, since mom died, but he did his best, and I love him for it. I needed to know, though.
Imagine my surprise when I find the mug in the back of the cupboard, a bit dusty. He clearly hasn't even looked at it. He doesn't even know...but then, he's never cared what others thought. Just about what was best for me, and he's always made sure that I knew that was all that mattered to him.
I put it back, and get out his favorite (a fifth grade pottery project that was a bit lopsided) to pour us both coffee. If I ever have children, at least I can be confident knowing that I've had the #1, Worlds Best, role model.
When he comes wandering into the kitchen, blearily rubbing at his eyes and reaching for the mug, I hand it to him with a smile and a kiss on the cheek, and I wonder. I wonder how long it will be before he notices, and if he'll say anything at all when he does. Probably not.
**Requisite Gold Edit:** Fuck me, gold?! I've never gotten gold before and now this is twice in a day! I'm glad everybody is enjoying the story! | A month had already passed since I had seen my ranking as best dad. My life and my families had then been filled with tv interviews, appearances on the Ellen show and even a book deal where I share my wisdom on what it means to be the best dad. Simply put, this was the happiest I had ever been.
Well, almost. It began maybe 2 weeks after the event happened and the money and fame was more solidified. I think it was first just an urge to look at the mug. Then it was a nightmare. Then it was sleeplessness and multiple glances at the mug a night. Why? I was scared that the number would change. I felt that it had to change eventually. Nobody can be top dog forever. There are a lot of good dads out there. Number 2 is probably almost better then me as it is. I had to remain vigilant.
As I started writing my second chapter of the book, I looked at the mug, which I always kept on me now. It still said number one. All was good. To help with this anxiety and paranoia I tried to convince myself that completing the book would be the key to a prosperous future that was no longer tied to the number. I just needed to finish it quickly.
A few hours past and I realized that I should try to go to bed. Tomorrow was a long day. It just so happened that I was going to be on air with the second best dad discussing child care tips with a cable news channel. Hopefully I could sleep, but I doubted it.
The moment finally came. The time to shake hands with another dad in a similar position. I wonder if wants so bad to be first. The handshake came and went as well as a smile that actually did look genuine. We then sat down and began the interview.
The interviewer asked us to put our mugs both on the table so the audience could see. Sure enough, number one and number two. There were oohs and aahs from the live audience. Then the first question was asked.
“So what have you been doing with your family to celebrate over the last few weeks?”
Dad 2 replied first, “I took the last few weeks off so our family could go on a long much needed vacation. Everybody has had a blast.”
I was a bit taken a back by this response. How had he not been taken up by the whirlwind of publicity? I guess that is what happens when you are number 2.
I all of a sudden realized that all eyes were on me. There had been an awkward pause.
“Well ever since I found out that I was number 1 I have been so busy interviewing and writing my book, but we have plans to do a family trip soon.” I replied hastily.
The interviewer interested in the book was about to start asking about the content when all of a sudden there was a sudden shout from the audience. Then more shouts.
“The mugs are changing!” Finally an audible shout came.
All of the color went out of my face. I slowly began to turn my mug around. It now said 2. I flipped around dad 2’s mug. It now said 1.
I looked at dad 2 who was now beaming and felt rage.
“Are you trying to embarrass me? Why did you even come on here if you were having so much fun with your family anyways. Go back and be with them” I said angrily.
My mug now said 304.
The audience began to laugh.
506, 4570, 99578... my rank was decreasing in larger bounds every second.
My families fortune and destiny was evaporating before my eyes with each change of the mug. I was just another normal dad now.
More laughter.
The interviewer then began, “well I guess we just have a normal dad here with us, how does it feel to be normal?”
I sat still refusing to answer for about 10 seconds. Then suddenly, I picked up the other dads mug and smashed it over his head.
Sure enough my mug now was near a billion.
If I can’t be best dad, then I guess I will have to be the worst Dad.... | |
[WP] As a dad, you obviously have a mug that claims you're the "#1 World's Best Dad". One day, you find on the news that all "Best Dad Mugs" now have actual ratings, the media is crazy about it, a photo shows a mug with #5,826,827 World's Best Dad on it, curious, you check yours. It still says #1. | My son Max and I were watching Paw Patrol (his favorite show) and eating bacon (our favorite food) when a "special news announcement" came up on the screen. I couldn't believe it, people were being ranked and rated based on their best dad mugs... It wasn't long after that I got struck with a memory...
My dad was sick a few years ago. When the illness hit, I knew it wasn't going to be long till he moved on. Just before the last time I saw him I stopped at the gift shop in the hospital and saw "Best Dad" on a mug. I figured it would cheer him up so I bought it for him. Unfortunately, when I arrived at his room he had just passed away. I didn't have a chance to give him the mug.
When that memory struck me, I remembered I kept the mug in my dresser. I didn't think of it often but I knew I still had it. I figured I would check it out and see what the fuss was about.
I looked in my dresser and found the mug. At first it didn't have any ranking on it, but I slowly saw something start to form on it. It was blurry, but as it came into focus I saw "#1 Best Dad"
I was confused... "I don't get it" I said to myself. That was when Max came into my room, wagging his tail with his mouth open wide, looking up at me with his brown eyes and his floppy ears with bacon grease in his fur.
To him, I was the best dad ever. | A month had already passed since I had seen my ranking as best dad. My life and my families had then been filled with tv interviews, appearances on the Ellen show and even a book deal where I share my wisdom on what it means to be the best dad. Simply put, this was the happiest I had ever been.
Well, almost. It began maybe 2 weeks after the event happened and the money and fame was more solidified. I think it was first just an urge to look at the mug. Then it was a nightmare. Then it was sleeplessness and multiple glances at the mug a night. Why? I was scared that the number would change. I felt that it had to change eventually. Nobody can be top dog forever. There are a lot of good dads out there. Number 2 is probably almost better then me as it is. I had to remain vigilant.
As I started writing my second chapter of the book, I looked at the mug, which I always kept on me now. It still said number one. All was good. To help with this anxiety and paranoia I tried to convince myself that completing the book would be the key to a prosperous future that was no longer tied to the number. I just needed to finish it quickly.
A few hours past and I realized that I should try to go to bed. Tomorrow was a long day. It just so happened that I was going to be on air with the second best dad discussing child care tips with a cable news channel. Hopefully I could sleep, but I doubted it.
The moment finally came. The time to shake hands with another dad in a similar position. I wonder if wants so bad to be first. The handshake came and went as well as a smile that actually did look genuine. We then sat down and began the interview.
The interviewer asked us to put our mugs both on the table so the audience could see. Sure enough, number one and number two. There were oohs and aahs from the live audience. Then the first question was asked.
“So what have you been doing with your family to celebrate over the last few weeks?”
Dad 2 replied first, “I took the last few weeks off so our family could go on a long much needed vacation. Everybody has had a blast.”
I was a bit taken a back by this response. How had he not been taken up by the whirlwind of publicity? I guess that is what happens when you are number 2.
I all of a sudden realized that all eyes were on me. There had been an awkward pause.
“Well ever since I found out that I was number 1 I have been so busy interviewing and writing my book, but we have plans to do a family trip soon.” I replied hastily.
The interviewer interested in the book was about to start asking about the content when all of a sudden there was a sudden shout from the audience. Then more shouts.
“The mugs are changing!” Finally an audible shout came.
All of the color went out of my face. I slowly began to turn my mug around. It now said 2. I flipped around dad 2’s mug. It now said 1.
I looked at dad 2 who was now beaming and felt rage.
“Are you trying to embarrass me? Why did you even come on here if you were having so much fun with your family anyways. Go back and be with them” I said angrily.
My mug now said 304.
The audience began to laugh.
506, 4570, 99578... my rank was decreasing in larger bounds every second.
My families fortune and destiny was evaporating before my eyes with each change of the mug. I was just another normal dad now.
More laughter.
The interviewer then began, “well I guess we just have a normal dad here with us, how does it feel to be normal?”
I sat still refusing to answer for about 10 seconds. Then suddenly, I picked up the other dads mug and smashed it over his head.
Sure enough my mug now was near a billion.
If I can’t be best dad, then I guess I will have to be the worst Dad.... | |
[WP] As a dad, you obviously have a mug that claims you're the "#1 World's Best Dad". One day, you find on the news that all "Best Dad Mugs" now have actual ratings, the media is crazy about it, a photo shows a mug with #5,826,827 World's Best Dad on it, curious, you check yours. It still says #1. | *What the fuck?*
I turn off the T.V. and glance at the half-eaten cup of microwaved ramen in front of me. Then back to the mug. Then back to my ramen.
*It must be some sort of mistake.*
I dig out a dilapidated iPhone 4 from my sweatpants pocket and begin dialing. The touchpad numbers are hard to see under the harshly cracked screen.
“Wow, didn’t expect you to call.”
“Hey Rebecca! Everything good with you right? Listen, where’s Timothy at right now?”
“With his step-daddy. They going mini-golfing then I’ll join them for the picnic later. I’m making sandwiches. Why?”
“Uh, can I see him? Maybe next month or something? I can make a trip down, just gotta get some time to fix up the old Hyundai. Think it need a gas change or some…”
“What the hell, where’s this coming from? You haven’t seen my baby for the last five years and all of a sudden you want back into his life? He doesn’t even know you, he don’t remember you.”
“You never told him about me?”
“Why would I? What have you ever done for us? You’ve done shit all ‘cept call me at Christmastime begging for dollars. I don’t even know where you’ve been! Last I heard you left town years ago so why don’t you stop calling and bothering!”
She hung up.
So that’s obviously not the one. I racked my brain for the others.
There’s Jessica but she hates my guts so I doubt she says anything good about me to my daughter.
Tiff of course, but I wasn’t there for the baby’s birth. Not even sure that one’s mine despite her constant cries for child support. *Twas a hoe fo sho.*
Natalie? Nahh can’t be. Didn’t that baby turn out to be retarded or some shit? I chuckled. *Got out of there quick! Dodged a bullet with that one.*
Out of the dark recesses of my mind, one girl popped out. Very young, cute smile. Ah yeah back when we were both still in high school. I had heard maybe she got knocked up, but I never knew if I had been the culprit. In any case I left that school soon after.
What was her name again? Gloria something I think.
It didn’t really matter. I had no way of contacting her anyway, it’s been so long. Barely remember what she looked like.
My heart jolted as I faintly recalled her last name.
I pulled up Google on the crusty iPhone 4 and typed in her full name.
*Fuck me.* My eyes met the mug once again. Those engraved letters stared mockingly back at me. “#1 World’s Best Dad”
The first page of Google showed an image of Gloria James posing next to her son. A maroon jersey draped over her son’s towering physique. It read: “Cleveland Cavaliers #23.” | I blink a few times using the remote, I've connected Velcro to keep it from becoming lost, to turn off the news.
I exclaim with an audible huff, "Huh..." I get up from the couch having seen my two rugrats off to school, the same two runts who had given me my least favorite mug, said 'Number two Dad' with a picture of man taking a shit. They said it reminded them of me, since so often I would be on the toilet for an extended amount of time. Usually to browse my favorite websites and get away from them. I approach the cupboard opening it, looking for the mug which I buried a few rows back, as I lift it up.... It says 'Number one Dad' the picture is also changed to one of a man sitting on the toilet playing on his phone.
"What the genuine actual fuck?" I immediately drop the mug, it shatters on the counter but the numbers and the image remain standing upright almost taunting me.
"How is this possible? There is no way I should be number one. I'm a horrible awful person and the way I treat my children....is less than ideal for number one. It has to be a mistake..." I say to no one that is around. Maybe I'll give a couple of my dad buddies a call to make sure this isn't a hoax....however why would mine have changed? It has to be a fluke.
I give Heath a call, "Yo Heath, you hear the news about the mug shit?"
Heath responds with a hearty laugh, his laugh always put a smile on my face since it was so deep, almost like how you'd imagine a dwarf would laugh, "Yeah man, I got a few mugs like that, kids can't figure out for the life of them what to get me for birthdays or father's days. They all say the same thing, 'Number 230,654,298 Dad'. I didn't think I was that bad but maybe the figure adjust as you grow as a father. Why? What'd you get?"
I pull the receiver away from my ear a bit.... "Ha...haha.... Yeah you're not gonna believe this, but I am.... The number one Dad."
The line goes silent, he had to have hung up on me, I mean who would make a joke like that... Well besides a Dad of course. Two minutes go by, three....
"What?" Heath finally responds.
"Yeah, I know right? Me? Of all people, who loses his shit at traffic of all things, who swears like a sailor, and who.... can't hold back his anger from his family." I mostly sound disappointed in myself.
"Dude, that is....amazing but I wonder...how the mugs know." He has always been the one who asks the right questions.
"Yeah, it's a miracle of some kind.... It's gotta be right? Well I gotta head off to get some business done. See ya later man, hope you get higher up. Or lower, whatever makes sense.... right?" I chuckle as he says his good byes, kind of sullen with his outrageous number.
After I'm done with my daily chores my kids come home, "Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!"
I greet them with a smile, but there is sorrow behind it. Maybe the mugs can tell the future, maybe they know how my kids will turn out before I do. All I know is I can keep being myself and certainly they will turn out better than I could have ever hoped.
•••••••••••••••••••••
I loved this prompt. Glad for any criticism from strangers on the internet. | |
[WP] As a dad, you obviously have a mug that claims you're the "#1 World's Best Dad". One day, you find on the news that all "Best Dad Mugs" now have actual ratings, the media is crazy about it, a photo shows a mug with #5,826,827 World's Best Dad on it, curious, you check yours. It still says #1. | I never thought about being a good father. It never even occurred to me-I just tried to do better than my own parents, and to always be there. To show up. They say the moment your child is born, the world changes for you. There's someone in your life in that moment that will always come first. That's how it was for me, when my Emily was born.
When she skinned her knees riding her bike, I was there with a kiss and a bandaid. I helped her back up, and gave her a push back down the path.
When she got in a fight at school, I took the day and picked her up. We talked about the fight, about what she did right, and what she did wrong. I grounded her, but she understood.
When her mother died, I held her hand at the funeral, and we cried together on the couch. She slept in my bed for weeks.
When she entered the eighth grade science fair, I stayed up long nights helping her make the best display in the district.
When she wanted to start dating, I told her that her safety always came first, and that I'd respect her decisions as long as her partners respected her. I still threatened poor Tommy Farley with a shotgun and a shell with his name on it...but she was in on the joke.
When she came out to me the next year, I held her close and told her I'd always love her, and whoever she chose to love. Then I threatened Sally Waters with the same shotgun, and she laughed again.
When she started submitting college applications, I started to research second mortgages.
When her first choice gave her a full ride in their engineering program, I sighed with relief. Then I put the money I'd put aside over the years for her college fund into a trust, so I knew she'd eat well at school and have a nest-egg to kick start whatever she wanted to do after she graduated.
When the news reported that all the '#1 Worlds Best Dad' mugs in the world were now accurately tracking rankings, I didn't bother checking the one in the back of my cupboard; my daughter was my number one, and that's all that mattered. Then I gave her a call. Said I was going to drive up to the city next week, and would she like to get dinner? She would. I never mentioned that I was only going to be in the city to have dinner with her. What other reason would I need?
 
--------------------------------------------
 
When the news reported that all the '#1 Worlds Best Dad' mugs were now accurately tracking, I laughed about it with my girlfriend. We both joked about what numbers our dads would have.
When mine called a few minutes later, I was ecstatic to have dinner with him that weekend. Of course I knew he didn't actually have anything to do in the city, but I wasn't going to call him on it. He's always been sweet like that.
When I went back home a few weeks later, I couldn't get the thought out of my head, though. So I went looking one morning, while he was still in bed. We hadn't talked about his mug-I thought maybe he was embarrassed, or worse - ashamed. I knew things hadn't always been easy, since mom died, but he did his best, and I love him for it. I needed to know, though.
Imagine my surprise when I find the mug in the back of the cupboard, a bit dusty. He clearly hasn't even looked at it. He doesn't even know...but then, he's never cared what others thought. Just about what was best for me, and he's always made sure that I knew that was all that mattered to him.
I put it back, and get out his favorite (a fifth grade pottery project that was a bit lopsided) to pour us both coffee. If I ever have children, at least I can be confident knowing that I've had the #1, Worlds Best, role model.
When he comes wandering into the kitchen, blearily rubbing at his eyes and reaching for the mug, I hand it to him with a smile and a kiss on the cheek, and I wonder. I wonder how long it will be before he notices, and if he'll say anything at all when he does. Probably not.
**Requisite Gold Edit:** Fuck me, gold?! I've never gotten gold before and now this is twice in a day! I'm glad everybody is enjoying the story! | I blink a few times using the remote, I've connected Velcro to keep it from becoming lost, to turn off the news.
I exclaim with an audible huff, "Huh..." I get up from the couch having seen my two rugrats off to school, the same two runts who had given me my least favorite mug, said 'Number two Dad' with a picture of man taking a shit. They said it reminded them of me, since so often I would be on the toilet for an extended amount of time. Usually to browse my favorite websites and get away from them. I approach the cupboard opening it, looking for the mug which I buried a few rows back, as I lift it up.... It says 'Number one Dad' the picture is also changed to one of a man sitting on the toilet playing on his phone.
"What the genuine actual fuck?" I immediately drop the mug, it shatters on the counter but the numbers and the image remain standing upright almost taunting me.
"How is this possible? There is no way I should be number one. I'm a horrible awful person and the way I treat my children....is less than ideal for number one. It has to be a mistake..." I say to no one that is around. Maybe I'll give a couple of my dad buddies a call to make sure this isn't a hoax....however why would mine have changed? It has to be a fluke.
I give Heath a call, "Yo Heath, you hear the news about the mug shit?"
Heath responds with a hearty laugh, his laugh always put a smile on my face since it was so deep, almost like how you'd imagine a dwarf would laugh, "Yeah man, I got a few mugs like that, kids can't figure out for the life of them what to get me for birthdays or father's days. They all say the same thing, 'Number 230,654,298 Dad'. I didn't think I was that bad but maybe the figure adjust as you grow as a father. Why? What'd you get?"
I pull the receiver away from my ear a bit.... "Ha...haha.... Yeah you're not gonna believe this, but I am.... The number one Dad."
The line goes silent, he had to have hung up on me, I mean who would make a joke like that... Well besides a Dad of course. Two minutes go by, three....
"What?" Heath finally responds.
"Yeah, I know right? Me? Of all people, who loses his shit at traffic of all things, who swears like a sailor, and who.... can't hold back his anger from his family." I mostly sound disappointed in myself.
"Dude, that is....amazing but I wonder...how the mugs know." He has always been the one who asks the right questions.
"Yeah, it's a miracle of some kind.... It's gotta be right? Well I gotta head off to get some business done. See ya later man, hope you get higher up. Or lower, whatever makes sense.... right?" I chuckle as he says his good byes, kind of sullen with his outrageous number.
After I'm done with my daily chores my kids come home, "Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!"
I greet them with a smile, but there is sorrow behind it. Maybe the mugs can tell the future, maybe they know how my kids will turn out before I do. All I know is I can keep being myself and certainly they will turn out better than I could have ever hoped.
•••••••••••••••••••••
I loved this prompt. Glad for any criticism from strangers on the internet. | |
[WP] As a dad, you obviously have a mug that claims you're the "#1 World's Best Dad". One day, you find on the news that all "Best Dad Mugs" now have actual ratings, the media is crazy about it, a photo shows a mug with #5,826,827 World's Best Dad on it, curious, you check yours. It still says #1. | My son Max and I were watching Paw Patrol (his favorite show) and eating bacon (our favorite food) when a "special news announcement" came up on the screen. I couldn't believe it, people were being ranked and rated based on their best dad mugs... It wasn't long after that I got struck with a memory...
My dad was sick a few years ago. When the illness hit, I knew it wasn't going to be long till he moved on. Just before the last time I saw him I stopped at the gift shop in the hospital and saw "Best Dad" on a mug. I figured it would cheer him up so I bought it for him. Unfortunately, when I arrived at his room he had just passed away. I didn't have a chance to give him the mug.
When that memory struck me, I remembered I kept the mug in my dresser. I didn't think of it often but I knew I still had it. I figured I would check it out and see what the fuss was about.
I looked in my dresser and found the mug. At first it didn't have any ranking on it, but I slowly saw something start to form on it. It was blurry, but as it came into focus I saw "#1 Best Dad"
I was confused... "I don't get it" I said to myself. That was when Max came into my room, wagging his tail with his mouth open wide, looking up at me with his brown eyes and his floppy ears with bacon grease in his fur.
To him, I was the best dad ever. | I blink a few times using the remote, I've connected Velcro to keep it from becoming lost, to turn off the news.
I exclaim with an audible huff, "Huh..." I get up from the couch having seen my two rugrats off to school, the same two runts who had given me my least favorite mug, said 'Number two Dad' with a picture of man taking a shit. They said it reminded them of me, since so often I would be on the toilet for an extended amount of time. Usually to browse my favorite websites and get away from them. I approach the cupboard opening it, looking for the mug which I buried a few rows back, as I lift it up.... It says 'Number one Dad' the picture is also changed to one of a man sitting on the toilet playing on his phone.
"What the genuine actual fuck?" I immediately drop the mug, it shatters on the counter but the numbers and the image remain standing upright almost taunting me.
"How is this possible? There is no way I should be number one. I'm a horrible awful person and the way I treat my children....is less than ideal for number one. It has to be a mistake..." I say to no one that is around. Maybe I'll give a couple of my dad buddies a call to make sure this isn't a hoax....however why would mine have changed? It has to be a fluke.
I give Heath a call, "Yo Heath, you hear the news about the mug shit?"
Heath responds with a hearty laugh, his laugh always put a smile on my face since it was so deep, almost like how you'd imagine a dwarf would laugh, "Yeah man, I got a few mugs like that, kids can't figure out for the life of them what to get me for birthdays or father's days. They all say the same thing, 'Number 230,654,298 Dad'. I didn't think I was that bad but maybe the figure adjust as you grow as a father. Why? What'd you get?"
I pull the receiver away from my ear a bit.... "Ha...haha.... Yeah you're not gonna believe this, but I am.... The number one Dad."
The line goes silent, he had to have hung up on me, I mean who would make a joke like that... Well besides a Dad of course. Two minutes go by, three....
"What?" Heath finally responds.
"Yeah, I know right? Me? Of all people, who loses his shit at traffic of all things, who swears like a sailor, and who.... can't hold back his anger from his family." I mostly sound disappointed in myself.
"Dude, that is....amazing but I wonder...how the mugs know." He has always been the one who asks the right questions.
"Yeah, it's a miracle of some kind.... It's gotta be right? Well I gotta head off to get some business done. See ya later man, hope you get higher up. Or lower, whatever makes sense.... right?" I chuckle as he says his good byes, kind of sullen with his outrageous number.
After I'm done with my daily chores my kids come home, "Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!"
I greet them with a smile, but there is sorrow behind it. Maybe the mugs can tell the future, maybe they know how my kids will turn out before I do. All I know is I can keep being myself and certainly they will turn out better than I could have ever hoped.
•••••••••••••••••••••
I loved this prompt. Glad for any criticism from strangers on the internet. | |
[WP] As a dad, you obviously have a mug that claims you're the "#1 World's Best Dad". One day, you find on the news that all "Best Dad Mugs" now have actual ratings, the media is crazy about it, a photo shows a mug with #5,826,827 World's Best Dad on it, curious, you check yours. It still says #1. | I never thought about being a good father. It never even occurred to me-I just tried to do better than my own parents, and to always be there. To show up. They say the moment your child is born, the world changes for you. There's someone in your life in that moment that will always come first. That's how it was for me, when my Emily was born.
When she skinned her knees riding her bike, I was there with a kiss and a bandaid. I helped her back up, and gave her a push back down the path.
When she got in a fight at school, I took the day and picked her up. We talked about the fight, about what she did right, and what she did wrong. I grounded her, but she understood.
When her mother died, I held her hand at the funeral, and we cried together on the couch. She slept in my bed for weeks.
When she entered the eighth grade science fair, I stayed up long nights helping her make the best display in the district.
When she wanted to start dating, I told her that her safety always came first, and that I'd respect her decisions as long as her partners respected her. I still threatened poor Tommy Farley with a shotgun and a shell with his name on it...but she was in on the joke.
When she came out to me the next year, I held her close and told her I'd always love her, and whoever she chose to love. Then I threatened Sally Waters with the same shotgun, and she laughed again.
When she started submitting college applications, I started to research second mortgages.
When her first choice gave her a full ride in their engineering program, I sighed with relief. Then I put the money I'd put aside over the years for her college fund into a trust, so I knew she'd eat well at school and have a nest-egg to kick start whatever she wanted to do after she graduated.
When the news reported that all the '#1 Worlds Best Dad' mugs in the world were now accurately tracking rankings, I didn't bother checking the one in the back of my cupboard; my daughter was my number one, and that's all that mattered. Then I gave her a call. Said I was going to drive up to the city next week, and would she like to get dinner? She would. I never mentioned that I was only going to be in the city to have dinner with her. What other reason would I need?
 
--------------------------------------------
 
When the news reported that all the '#1 Worlds Best Dad' mugs were now accurately tracking, I laughed about it with my girlfriend. We both joked about what numbers our dads would have.
When mine called a few minutes later, I was ecstatic to have dinner with him that weekend. Of course I knew he didn't actually have anything to do in the city, but I wasn't going to call him on it. He's always been sweet like that.
When I went back home a few weeks later, I couldn't get the thought out of my head, though. So I went looking one morning, while he was still in bed. We hadn't talked about his mug-I thought maybe he was embarrassed, or worse - ashamed. I knew things hadn't always been easy, since mom died, but he did his best, and I love him for it. I needed to know, though.
Imagine my surprise when I find the mug in the back of the cupboard, a bit dusty. He clearly hasn't even looked at it. He doesn't even know...but then, he's never cared what others thought. Just about what was best for me, and he's always made sure that I knew that was all that mattered to him.
I put it back, and get out his favorite (a fifth grade pottery project that was a bit lopsided) to pour us both coffee. If I ever have children, at least I can be confident knowing that I've had the #1, Worlds Best, role model.
When he comes wandering into the kitchen, blearily rubbing at his eyes and reaching for the mug, I hand it to him with a smile and a kiss on the cheek, and I wonder. I wonder how long it will be before he notices, and if he'll say anything at all when he does. Probably not.
**Requisite Gold Edit:** Fuck me, gold?! I've never gotten gold before and now this is twice in a day! I'm glad everybody is enjoying the story! | *What the fuck?*
I turn off the T.V. and glance at the half-eaten cup of microwaved ramen in front of me. Then back to the mug. Then back to my ramen.
*It must be some sort of mistake.*
I dig out a dilapidated iPhone 4 from my sweatpants pocket and begin dialing. The touchpad numbers are hard to see under the harshly cracked screen.
“Wow, didn’t expect you to call.”
“Hey Rebecca! Everything good with you right? Listen, where’s Timothy at right now?”
“With his step-daddy. They going mini-golfing then I’ll join them for the picnic later. I’m making sandwiches. Why?”
“Uh, can I see him? Maybe next month or something? I can make a trip down, just gotta get some time to fix up the old Hyundai. Think it need a gas change or some…”
“What the hell, where’s this coming from? You haven’t seen my baby for the last five years and all of a sudden you want back into his life? He doesn’t even know you, he don’t remember you.”
“You never told him about me?”
“Why would I? What have you ever done for us? You’ve done shit all ‘cept call me at Christmastime begging for dollars. I don’t even know where you’ve been! Last I heard you left town years ago so why don’t you stop calling and bothering!”
She hung up.
So that’s obviously not the one. I racked my brain for the others.
There’s Jessica but she hates my guts so I doubt she says anything good about me to my daughter.
Tiff of course, but I wasn’t there for the baby’s birth. Not even sure that one’s mine despite her constant cries for child support. *Twas a hoe fo sho.*
Natalie? Nahh can’t be. Didn’t that baby turn out to be retarded or some shit? I chuckled. *Got out of there quick! Dodged a bullet with that one.*
Out of the dark recesses of my mind, one girl popped out. Very young, cute smile. Ah yeah back when we were both still in high school. I had heard maybe she got knocked up, but I never knew if I had been the culprit. In any case I left that school soon after.
What was her name again? Gloria something I think.
It didn’t really matter. I had no way of contacting her anyway, it’s been so long. Barely remember what she looked like.
My heart jolted as I faintly recalled her last name.
I pulled up Google on the crusty iPhone 4 and typed in her full name.
*Fuck me.* My eyes met the mug once again. Those engraved letters stared mockingly back at me. “#1 World’s Best Dad”
The first page of Google showed an image of Gloria James posing next to her son. A maroon jersey draped over her son’s towering physique. It read: “Cleveland Cavaliers #23.” | |
[WP] As a dad, you obviously have a mug that claims you're the "#1 World's Best Dad". One day, you find on the news that all "Best Dad Mugs" now have actual ratings, the media is crazy about it, a photo shows a mug with #5,826,827 World's Best Dad on it, curious, you check yours. It still says #1. | My son Max and I were watching Paw Patrol (his favorite show) and eating bacon (our favorite food) when a "special news announcement" came up on the screen. I couldn't believe it, people were being ranked and rated based on their best dad mugs... It wasn't long after that I got struck with a memory...
My dad was sick a few years ago. When the illness hit, I knew it wasn't going to be long till he moved on. Just before the last time I saw him I stopped at the gift shop in the hospital and saw "Best Dad" on a mug. I figured it would cheer him up so I bought it for him. Unfortunately, when I arrived at his room he had just passed away. I didn't have a chance to give him the mug.
When that memory struck me, I remembered I kept the mug in my dresser. I didn't think of it often but I knew I still had it. I figured I would check it out and see what the fuss was about.
I looked in my dresser and found the mug. At first it didn't have any ranking on it, but I slowly saw something start to form on it. It was blurry, but as it came into focus I saw "#1 Best Dad"
I was confused... "I don't get it" I said to myself. That was when Max came into my room, wagging his tail with his mouth open wide, looking up at me with his brown eyes and his floppy ears with bacon grease in his fur.
To him, I was the best dad ever. | *What the fuck?*
I turn off the T.V. and glance at the half-eaten cup of microwaved ramen in front of me. Then back to the mug. Then back to my ramen.
*It must be some sort of mistake.*
I dig out a dilapidated iPhone 4 from my sweatpants pocket and begin dialing. The touchpad numbers are hard to see under the harshly cracked screen.
“Wow, didn’t expect you to call.”
“Hey Rebecca! Everything good with you right? Listen, where’s Timothy at right now?”
“With his step-daddy. They going mini-golfing then I’ll join them for the picnic later. I’m making sandwiches. Why?”
“Uh, can I see him? Maybe next month or something? I can make a trip down, just gotta get some time to fix up the old Hyundai. Think it need a gas change or some…”
“What the hell, where’s this coming from? You haven’t seen my baby for the last five years and all of a sudden you want back into his life? He doesn’t even know you, he don’t remember you.”
“You never told him about me?”
“Why would I? What have you ever done for us? You’ve done shit all ‘cept call me at Christmastime begging for dollars. I don’t even know where you’ve been! Last I heard you left town years ago so why don’t you stop calling and bothering!”
She hung up.
So that’s obviously not the one. I racked my brain for the others.
There’s Jessica but she hates my guts so I doubt she says anything good about me to my daughter.
Tiff of course, but I wasn’t there for the baby’s birth. Not even sure that one’s mine despite her constant cries for child support. *Twas a hoe fo sho.*
Natalie? Nahh can’t be. Didn’t that baby turn out to be retarded or some shit? I chuckled. *Got out of there quick! Dodged a bullet with that one.*
Out of the dark recesses of my mind, one girl popped out. Very young, cute smile. Ah yeah back when we were both still in high school. I had heard maybe she got knocked up, but I never knew if I had been the culprit. In any case I left that school soon after.
What was her name again? Gloria something I think.
It didn’t really matter. I had no way of contacting her anyway, it’s been so long. Barely remember what she looked like.
My heart jolted as I faintly recalled her last name.
I pulled up Google on the crusty iPhone 4 and typed in her full name.
*Fuck me.* My eyes met the mug once again. Those engraved letters stared mockingly back at me. “#1 World’s Best Dad”
The first page of Google showed an image of Gloria James posing next to her son. A maroon jersey draped over her son’s towering physique. It read: “Cleveland Cavaliers #23.” | |
[WP] As a dad, you obviously have a mug that claims you're the "#1 World's Best Dad". One day, you find on the news that all "Best Dad Mugs" now have actual ratings, the media is crazy about it, a photo shows a mug with #5,826,827 World's Best Dad on it, curious, you check yours. It still says #1. | I never thought about being a good father. It never even occurred to me-I just tried to do better than my own parents, and to always be there. To show up. They say the moment your child is born, the world changes for you. There's someone in your life in that moment that will always come first. That's how it was for me, when my Emily was born.
When she skinned her knees riding her bike, I was there with a kiss and a bandaid. I helped her back up, and gave her a push back down the path.
When she got in a fight at school, I took the day and picked her up. We talked about the fight, about what she did right, and what she did wrong. I grounded her, but she understood.
When her mother died, I held her hand at the funeral, and we cried together on the couch. She slept in my bed for weeks.
When she entered the eighth grade science fair, I stayed up long nights helping her make the best display in the district.
When she wanted to start dating, I told her that her safety always came first, and that I'd respect her decisions as long as her partners respected her. I still threatened poor Tommy Farley with a shotgun and a shell with his name on it...but she was in on the joke.
When she came out to me the next year, I held her close and told her I'd always love her, and whoever she chose to love. Then I threatened Sally Waters with the same shotgun, and she laughed again.
When she started submitting college applications, I started to research second mortgages.
When her first choice gave her a full ride in their engineering program, I sighed with relief. Then I put the money I'd put aside over the years for her college fund into a trust, so I knew she'd eat well at school and have a nest-egg to kick start whatever she wanted to do after she graduated.
When the news reported that all the '#1 Worlds Best Dad' mugs in the world were now accurately tracking rankings, I didn't bother checking the one in the back of my cupboard; my daughter was my number one, and that's all that mattered. Then I gave her a call. Said I was going to drive up to the city next week, and would she like to get dinner? She would. I never mentioned that I was only going to be in the city to have dinner with her. What other reason would I need?
 
--------------------------------------------
 
When the news reported that all the '#1 Worlds Best Dad' mugs were now accurately tracking, I laughed about it with my girlfriend. We both joked about what numbers our dads would have.
When mine called a few minutes later, I was ecstatic to have dinner with him that weekend. Of course I knew he didn't actually have anything to do in the city, but I wasn't going to call him on it. He's always been sweet like that.
When I went back home a few weeks later, I couldn't get the thought out of my head, though. So I went looking one morning, while he was still in bed. We hadn't talked about his mug-I thought maybe he was embarrassed, or worse - ashamed. I knew things hadn't always been easy, since mom died, but he did his best, and I love him for it. I needed to know, though.
Imagine my surprise when I find the mug in the back of the cupboard, a bit dusty. He clearly hasn't even looked at it. He doesn't even know...but then, he's never cared what others thought. Just about what was best for me, and he's always made sure that I knew that was all that mattered to him.
I put it back, and get out his favorite (a fifth grade pottery project that was a bit lopsided) to pour us both coffee. If I ever have children, at least I can be confident knowing that I've had the #1, Worlds Best, role model.
When he comes wandering into the kitchen, blearily rubbing at his eyes and reaching for the mug, I hand it to him with a smile and a kiss on the cheek, and I wonder. I wonder how long it will be before he notices, and if he'll say anything at all when he does. Probably not.
**Requisite Gold Edit:** Fuck me, gold?! I've never gotten gold before and now this is twice in a day! I'm glad everybody is enjoying the story! | A wave of regret washes over me as I think back to the day I stole the mug from a co-worker. It makes me think back to all the times I have failed as a father. I decide right then and there to make things right. I grab my son and apologize for making many mistakes. He just looks at me blankly and tells me it's ok and gives me a hug. I promise him I will do better and take home with me and together we go to Jim's house to return the mug. When we arrive Jim greets us warmly and invites us in. I explain to him about the mug and give it back. My son and I then leave and are headed to the car when Jim comes running out yelling and waving the mug. He comes up to me and shows me that it now says # 2,546,987 dad. I look at him confused, and he hands me the mug back. We both watch in amazement as the numbers blur out and vanish and slowly the number 1 fades into view. Jim looks at me and says "I guess it was meant for you after all. I look at Jim and say how can this be? I've made tons of mistakes, including stealing your mug. Jim smiles at me and says we all make mistakes some of us are better at doing right by our kids than others after a mistake. I looked at my son who simply smiled at me, and in that moment I could see in his eyes why the mug said I was #1. | |
[WP] As a dad, you obviously have a mug that claims you're the "#1 World's Best Dad". One day, you find on the news that all "Best Dad Mugs" now have actual ratings, the media is crazy about it, a photo shows a mug with #5,826,827 World's Best Dad on it, curious, you check yours. It still says #1. | My son Max and I were watching Paw Patrol (his favorite show) and eating bacon (our favorite food) when a "special news announcement" came up on the screen. I couldn't believe it, people were being ranked and rated based on their best dad mugs... It wasn't long after that I got struck with a memory...
My dad was sick a few years ago. When the illness hit, I knew it wasn't going to be long till he moved on. Just before the last time I saw him I stopped at the gift shop in the hospital and saw "Best Dad" on a mug. I figured it would cheer him up so I bought it for him. Unfortunately, when I arrived at his room he had just passed away. I didn't have a chance to give him the mug.
When that memory struck me, I remembered I kept the mug in my dresser. I didn't think of it often but I knew I still had it. I figured I would check it out and see what the fuss was about.
I looked in my dresser and found the mug. At first it didn't have any ranking on it, but I slowly saw something start to form on it. It was blurry, but as it came into focus I saw "#1 Best Dad"
I was confused... "I don't get it" I said to myself. That was when Max came into my room, wagging his tail with his mouth open wide, looking up at me with his brown eyes and his floppy ears with bacon grease in his fur.
To him, I was the best dad ever. | A wave of regret washes over me as I think back to the day I stole the mug from a co-worker. It makes me think back to all the times I have failed as a father. I decide right then and there to make things right. I grab my son and apologize for making many mistakes. He just looks at me blankly and tells me it's ok and gives me a hug. I promise him I will do better and take home with me and together we go to Jim's house to return the mug. When we arrive Jim greets us warmly and invites us in. I explain to him about the mug and give it back. My son and I then leave and are headed to the car when Jim comes running out yelling and waving the mug. He comes up to me and shows me that it now says # 2,546,987 dad. I look at him confused, and he hands me the mug back. We both watch in amazement as the numbers blur out and vanish and slowly the number 1 fades into view. Jim looks at me and says "I guess it was meant for you after all. I look at Jim and say how can this be? I've made tons of mistakes, including stealing your mug. Jim smiles at me and says we all make mistakes some of us are better at doing right by our kids than others after a mistake. I looked at my son who simply smiled at me, and in that moment I could see in his eyes why the mug said I was #1. |
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