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[WP] The fact the uncanny valley exists is terrifying. Being scared by things that look almost human but aren't. Other animals do not have this. That means that at some point in our evolution, running away from things that looked almost human was advantageous enough to be imprinted on our genetics. | The EVA 201 class began. As we walked in, we waved our notebooks over the interface and the e-ink paper changed. I took a brief glance at what I presumed would be the syllabus, and found a table of contents:
**Pages 1-3:** Content warnings
**Page 4:** Infohazard waiver and consent form
**Page 5:** University policy on non-consensual disclosure
**Pages 6-10:** [locked pending acceptance]
The class was half empty.
"I'm sure that by now you've been familiarized with the scrutiny that an evolutionary anthropology class entails. When Dr. Sanchez pioneered his methods of correlational culture reconstruction, he thought it would bring us enlightenment, instead it brought us horror, hatred, and war. But humanity can't blind itself to the truth, even after all it's brought us. So we are the few, unlucky in my opinion, watchers, who study it for the benefit of the rest."
"I'm sure you are aware of the policy, but the rules say I need to say it out loud. The material presented in this class ranks a 5 on the individual scale, and a 7 on the societal scale. If you start spreading it to anyone who's not in our program, or didn't opt-out of infoprotection, you will not only be expelled from the program, but will be sanctioned by every major infosec company out there. Depending on the severity, you might be banned from posting on any platform with an infosec contract. People in that situation often end up posting on opt-outer forums, and reading what they post there. After that, few last more than a year before they end up in an insane asylum."
"So, don't do it. Also, there's a content warning section which I suggest you read carefully,"
Brian smirked. He was always one of those who think they're fearless and invincible. He joked about opting out pretty often.
"... even if you thought the previous classes weren't that intense. We will be watching video reconstructions from Pleistocene-epoch human cultures, for the first time, though not today. I've had a student who told me that he has seen "snuff films", and he still couldn't take it. Now, please sign your waivers so I can proceed."
Over the sound of people walking out the door, I signed both and immediately the next pages changed from a static blur to readable text.
**Page 6:** Intro to psychosymbiosis
**Page 7:** History of psychosymbiote-affected human cultures
**Page 8:** Extinct species
**Page 9:** Extant species
**Page 10:** Public safety implications
"As you may have guessed, this class is about the organisms which make their home inside human bodies, and affect our thoughts and behavior. Once you think about it, you may see it's obvious in hindsight. If we have pathogens that quickly evolve to exploit our other tissues and organs, why not exploit the brain? Especially since we have seen so many examples among other animals, like rabies or the Cordyceps fungus? Much of it is the fault of these organisms themselves."
"When a microbe infects an animal, it has to evade the immune system to survive, by an endless variety of means. The same goes for these, and over time they have learned to affect the brain, to hide their own existence. Some will delete thoughts and memories that hint at their existence. Others will act more violently, killing the host and releasing spores, or making the host kill the person spreading information about them. You all have been tested at the campus clinic to have relatively benign symbiotes, such as the genus *Pacipheria*, a clade that seems to tolerate people learning about it. That one does have amnestic and hallucinogenic properties that keep people from seeing the physical and behavioral effects of similar infections on others and themselves, but it doesn't seem to understand abstract academic terminology. So I can teach this class without fear of anything happening to you or me."
"But let this be another reminder to keep everything we talk about inside of the classroom. You can't know which of these your friends could be carrying, and how they will respond to a knowledge trigger."
The professor went on to explain with a professional tone, while everyone in the class reacted in stunned horror. Brian's smirk was gone from his face. Spores? Hallucinogenic? Physical effects?
"Humans have gone through a long co-evolution with these infestations. We would evolve some trait, and they would evolve to counter it. Because many of them tend to deform the human body, and tended to use the host and their deformations to do violence to hosts of competing symbiotes, our brain evolved an instinctive fear reflex towards humans who, how should I put it, 'don't look right'. In response, many of them, including *Pacipheria* adapted to block out that perception, and make all human-shaped creatures look normal, at least usually. In cases of reported sightings, it and many species will drive the host to disbelieve any accounts."
"By promoting the health and sanity of the host, it allowed humans to create civilizations and thus proliferate more. More hosts, more symbiotes. This is what we call a commensalist or even mutualistic symbiote. In the past, parasitic ones were much more common, and we still remember the more recent ones in traditions about "zombies", "monsters", "vampires", all of them coming from historical accounts of infested humans. However, remember that the modern world still hosts many different species, and few of them are as benign..."
An hour and a half later, I walked out the classroom in a daze. I learned a lot, about how competition and kin selection among different parasites led to wars and racism, about the genus responsible for what we have come to call "zombies" and some of the ones that were lost to oral history, and terms like "pseudo-neural mycelium" and "cognitostructural autoimmunity", (though the professor still refused to answer what was so disturbing about the Pleistocene epoch), but as I walked past what looked like normal college students, this one thought I couldn't get out of my head was "what would they truly look like through clear eyes?" | "So there is a bit of fuzzy area. Anything below this and our brain is happy to leave it alone and call it Non Human. Anything above this, our brain will identify a face as definitely human. But if you look at a face that falls in this area, uncanny valley as we call it, our brain just can't fully process it. It confuses us. It terrifies us."
"But why does this happen Professor?"
"Good question, Dylan. We still don't fully understand. There are several theories of course. Maybe it reminds us of the dead. Maybe its because there very several species very close to us competing for survival at the dawn of humanity. It's a very evolutionary response, you see. Something that has to have lasted over a long long time. We continue to look into this. However, there..."
The bell rang and the class finished.
Professor McCarthy turned around to clear up the blackboard as the class exited through the doors.
When he was done and he turned around, he was surprised to find a paper on his desk.
It was neatly written. Only a student could've left it there.
He sat in his chair and started reading it, wondering why it had been left there. He had a few minutes to kill anyways. He read the first few lines casually, before sitting up bolt upright.
****
The entire class looked back at him.
"I'm not mad everyone. Someone left a hand written note on my desk. It was super interesting. I just want to know who it was."
But no one came forth with the explanation.
"You won't get into trouble. I promise. It's just a fascinating idea and I want to know more. Dylan? Katie? Sam?"
But no one admitted to it. He sighed. "Fine then. Let's get on with today's lesson."
At the end of the period, there was another note. This one was short and to the point.
*I can't let them know. Just watch them for a while. You'll see it too.*
************
His throat started closing up and his heart rate went up. He looked at all the faces staring back at him. His brain was screaming at him. He had to close his eyes. He had to close his eyes or risk losing his sanity.
He had to...
He came to with a start and found his class working on their assignment. All of them, except Dylan. Dylan looked right at him with a slight smile. A smile, that made him uncomfortable for some reason. A smile far too wide for a human face.
He muffled his screaming by stuffing his fist in his mouth.
A few kids looked up at him in confusion.
"Carry on, please. I'm a bit unwell today."
As the class came to an end, he didn't turn around. He observed if anyone would leave something. No one did.
After a few minutes, a piece of paper was thrown into the classroom. He ran out to see if he could catch who had thrown it.
He saw Dylan standing there, his arm around another of his students. Kevin, he thought was the kid's name. Kevin looked as if he was ready to cry.
Dylan waved to him and walked away, his arm still around Kevin's shoulders as he walked beside Dylan.
The note had a simple message again.
*They know.*
******
Kevin didn't show up for class the next day.
Prof McCarthy stopped Dylan at the end of the class.
"Where's Kevin?"
"Don't know, professor. Who's Kevin?"
"You know who Kevin is. You were with him yesterday?"
"Was I? I don't recall."
The professor looked at Dylan's face to see any indication if he was lying. But the more he looked at his face, the more his own brain screamed back at him. There was something wrong... something he couldn't explain.
"Dylan, who... what are you?"
Dylan's smile widened. He seemed to have hundreds of teeth. Professor stumbled backwards, knocking some of his books off the table.
"Didn't Kevin tell you professor? Surely he did. Clever kid that. Not sure how he found out, but he did."
"So he was right?"
"I don't know what he told you."
"He wrote of monsters, animals, shapeshifters. Ones whose purpose was to infiltrate human kind, and eventually overtake us."
"Clever kid for sure. But he won't be any trouble now."
"What does that mean?"
"Nothing. Don't worry about it professor. In fact, it might be in your best interest to ignore all of this completely."
"But you look... you look normal."
"Did you think humans were the only ones capable of evolution?"
The professor looked at Dylan as he left.
**********
Kevin was back in the class. He was smiling. But the more the professor looked at his smile, the more his brain screamed at him. Professor looked around at his class. They were all smiling back at him.
So much smiling.
The professor screamed and collapsed.
*******
More of my ramblings at r/ta_account_12 | |
[WP] The fact the uncanny valley exists is terrifying. Being scared by things that look almost human but aren't. Other animals do not have this. That means that at some point in our evolution, running away from things that looked almost human was advantageous enough to be imprinted on our genetics. | The EVA 201 class began. As we walked in, we waved our notebooks over the interface and the e-ink paper changed. I took a brief glance at what I presumed would be the syllabus, and found a table of contents:
**Pages 1-3:** Content warnings
**Page 4:** Infohazard waiver and consent form
**Page 5:** University policy on non-consensual disclosure
**Pages 6-10:** [locked pending acceptance]
The class was half empty.
"I'm sure that by now you've been familiarized with the scrutiny that an evolutionary anthropology class entails. When Dr. Sanchez pioneered his methods of correlational culture reconstruction, he thought it would bring us enlightenment, instead it brought us horror, hatred, and war. But humanity can't blind itself to the truth, even after all it's brought us. So we are the few, unlucky in my opinion, watchers, who study it for the benefit of the rest."
"I'm sure you are aware of the policy, but the rules say I need to say it out loud. The material presented in this class ranks a 5 on the individual scale, and a 7 on the societal scale. If you start spreading it to anyone who's not in our program, or didn't opt-out of infoprotection, you will not only be expelled from the program, but will be sanctioned by every major infosec company out there. Depending on the severity, you might be banned from posting on any platform with an infosec contract. People in that situation often end up posting on opt-outer forums, and reading what they post there. After that, few last more than a year before they end up in an insane asylum."
"So, don't do it. Also, there's a content warning section which I suggest you read carefully,"
Brian smirked. He was always one of those who think they're fearless and invincible. He joked about opting out pretty often.
"... even if you thought the previous classes weren't that intense. We will be watching video reconstructions from Pleistocene-epoch human cultures, for the first time, though not today. I've had a student who told me that he has seen "snuff films", and he still couldn't take it. Now, please sign your waivers so I can proceed."
Over the sound of people walking out the door, I signed both and immediately the next pages changed from a static blur to readable text.
**Page 6:** Intro to psychosymbiosis
**Page 7:** History of psychosymbiote-affected human cultures
**Page 8:** Extinct species
**Page 9:** Extant species
**Page 10:** Public safety implications
"As you may have guessed, this class is about the organisms which make their home inside human bodies, and affect our thoughts and behavior. Once you think about it, you may see it's obvious in hindsight. If we have pathogens that quickly evolve to exploit our other tissues and organs, why not exploit the brain? Especially since we have seen so many examples among other animals, like rabies or the Cordyceps fungus? Much of it is the fault of these organisms themselves."
"When a microbe infects an animal, it has to evade the immune system to survive, by an endless variety of means. The same goes for these, and over time they have learned to affect the brain, to hide their own existence. Some will delete thoughts and memories that hint at their existence. Others will act more violently, killing the host and releasing spores, or making the host kill the person spreading information about them. You all have been tested at the campus clinic to have relatively benign symbiotes, such as the genus *Pacipheria*, a clade that seems to tolerate people learning about it. That one does have amnestic and hallucinogenic properties that keep people from seeing the physical and behavioral effects of similar infections on others and themselves, but it doesn't seem to understand abstract academic terminology. So I can teach this class without fear of anything happening to you or me."
"But let this be another reminder to keep everything we talk about inside of the classroom. You can't know which of these your friends could be carrying, and how they will respond to a knowledge trigger."
The professor went on to explain with a professional tone, while everyone in the class reacted in stunned horror. Brian's smirk was gone from his face. Spores? Hallucinogenic? Physical effects?
"Humans have gone through a long co-evolution with these infestations. We would evolve some trait, and they would evolve to counter it. Because many of them tend to deform the human body, and tended to use the host and their deformations to do violence to hosts of competing symbiotes, our brain evolved an instinctive fear reflex towards humans who, how should I put it, 'don't look right'. In response, many of them, including *Pacipheria* adapted to block out that perception, and make all human-shaped creatures look normal, at least usually. In cases of reported sightings, it and many species will drive the host to disbelieve any accounts."
"By promoting the health and sanity of the host, it allowed humans to create civilizations and thus proliferate more. More hosts, more symbiotes. This is what we call a commensalist or even mutualistic symbiote. In the past, parasitic ones were much more common, and we still remember the more recent ones in traditions about "zombies", "monsters", "vampires", all of them coming from historical accounts of infested humans. However, remember that the modern world still hosts many different species, and few of them are as benign..."
An hour and a half later, I walked out the classroom in a daze. I learned a lot, about how competition and kin selection among different parasites led to wars and racism, about the genus responsible for what we have come to call "zombies" and some of the ones that were lost to oral history, and terms like "pseudo-neural mycelium" and "cognitostructural autoimmunity", (though the professor still refused to answer what was so disturbing about the Pleistocene epoch), but as I walked past what looked like normal college students, this one thought I couldn't get out of my head was "what would they truly look like through clear eyes?" | An Old Man is seated on a rock by a large bonfire. To either side of him a group of about a dozen youths sit cross legged, ringing the fire. A few of the youths are whittling at blocks of wood, while others nibble on jerky. They are dressed in rough leather garments stitched together by chords of hemp and sinew. Some of the older ones already have their first tattoos, but most do not.
A few adults and older teens loiter near the fire pretending to be busy. In reality they are listening to the Old Man, but do not wish to be seen partaking in children’s tales.
“It was in the time of my grandfather’s grandfather’s grandfather. And since I am old enough to be your grandfather it was about 8 generations ago that we came to this valley.” He said. His voice did not carry the hoarse rasp of old age, but rather remained clear and fluid despite the wrinkles and scars on his face that revealed the Old Man’s considerable age.
“We came from ancient land, far to the south, when the rising sun is to the right. We needed fresh land to hunt, fresh herds to chase. A land with many trees and shrubs for the women to pick fruit from.
“We followed the herds at first. They fled the ancient lands when the rains stopped falling and the dirt turned to sand.”
He paused to collect his thoughts. The children were listening raptly. They had never heard this story before.
“At first these lands were ideal, beautiful. Full of everything we wanted. But who can tell me why it was not perfect?”
The children thought for a moment. They knew an answer was expected, these stories were education as well as entertainment.
“Because of the Others.” One of them said, a younger girl.
Some of the older children quickly shushed her or else shook their heads in embarrassment. The girl looked abashed and averted her eyes.
“Yes, exactly right. The others.” the Old Man said kindly, smiling at her. His audience looked at him quizzically.
“It’s no sin to talk about the Others when asked.” He explained. He cleared his throat indicating that the time for discussion was over and it was time for the story to resume.
“Yes, the Others. They came from the caves. We prefer to sleep in tents made from skins and woven hemp, but these Others abided deep in the hills and mountains. That is why even today our people never go into the mountains though they surround us on all sides.”
“I thought all of the Others were gone.” One of the boys said.
The Old Man shot daggers with his eyes at the boy who had spoken. A second boy cuffed him on the head.
“Are they, Aku? Do you know why you were named that?”
He shook his head.
“Because Aku was your grandfather, and my best friend, and he died to keep your mother safe when she was just a girl. It was the Others who killed him. I saw it with my own eyes. So, little Aku, who speaks out of turn during story, are you brave enough to go into the mountains? After all, the Others are all gone, right?”
Aku remained silent and turned red in the cheeks. Old Man nodded in approval. He cleared his throat again.
“It is true that our ancestors fought back, and for a time we prevailed. Our flint and bone was superior to theirs, and our strategies in battle were superior. But the Others have advantages as well. They are larger than us, and have a deep, bellowing voice that can be heard for half a horizon, meaning they could call for help and always be answered.
“Soon enough they stopped competing with us for the herds and retreated into their caves. Instead they now make their desperate living by ambushing our camps and taking away our women, and attacking our hunting parties with greater numbers after they make a kill and steal it for themselves.
“Now, who can tell me how to spot an Other?”
No one spoke. Old Man shook his head.
“Well Aku will be pleased to learn that there hasn’t been an attack on our people for almost thirty seasons now, since Aku was learning to walk. As such your parents haven’t told you how to spot them. Who can tel me why you must know this?”
“Because they look like us.” A small child said.
“Yes. But more importantly there are other people’s in this valley now as well, our own kind but of different tribes. You must learn what the Other’s look like because you must know the difference between them and the other people of this valley.”
“It used to be much easier. The Others in the time of my grandfather were much larger than us, and hairier. Their foreheads were sloped, their noses huge, and their chests were enormous.
“But now, ever since they started taking away our women, it has become harder and harder to tell them apart from others of our kind. They know this, and have started using it. On the day young Hakka here was born a group of them came to our camp. We thought they were of our kind, come to trade. When we came out to barter they attacked, they carried away two women, slew two of our men, and stole three mammoth skins. The danger is very real.”
“So children, listen and listen well. When you see someone, and your first thought is that something is not right, run. Because the Others may look like us, and may act like us, but they will never look completely the same. I’ll not waste time telling you what to look for, but I urge you to look at each other closely. Go on, look into each other’s faces and study each other. That is the face of our kind. If you see someone else, and something looks different, or if they leave you unsettled, run away as fast as you can. For the Others hate us still, and long to reclaim this valley for their own. Heed my words and obey, fear that which does not look like you.”
And with these word the Old Man rose and disappeared into his tent, leaving his audience to their task of studying each other. | |
[WP] You were born with the ability to stop time, but only temporarily. You can stop time for as five seconds. One day, at 33 years old, you stop time. As you move through your crowded office, you notice one of your coworkers's fingers twitch. | There are 60 seconds in a minute 3,600 seconds in a hour, 86,400 in a day, and roughly 9 million a month so what's 5 seconds? More than you can possibly realize.
It started when I was five. My dad had tried to snash my face in a cake. With a quick slip of my head instead he shoved his hand in the cake to his embarrassment and moms scolding. I sat there, stunned. I had no idea what I just did, but I knew it was awesome.
Ar first, I thought I made myself super fast. I LOVED The Flash, and I thought my wish came true, receiving the All Spark. After a thorough experimentation, that was a definite nope. The world around me froze instead. Five seconds every hour. It did not stack.
It was the perfect prank tool, the perfect get out of jail card. A bully suddenly having his pants pulled down, sneaking past someone in the last second. I soon had 2 watches. Strange thing, all electronics froze, but mechanical ones worked perfectly fine. Being aware of when an hour passed through became important, and I was the star running back slipping out of tackles.
Won a scholarship, and played in college, and again, 5 seconds could NOT be underestimated. As time went on, i learned how to REWIND five seconds. That became huge. Went to Vegas that weekend. Been going every year since.
Which.. Leads me to this moment. I stopped time as I usually did to get into my office without too much hubalub, for the business I owned, when one of my new sales agents MOVED in my free moment.
We stopped, frozen, as the world moved around us. Eyes locked together in puzzled wonderment. I felt my blood courcing through my brain, my heart escalating in beats.
"Hey, Banksty. I want you in my office in one hour; bring your sales quotas."
That gave us both time to come to grips we weren't as singular as we both most likely thought. What was she doing in entry level sales? Espionage? No, despite my success I made sure we were small. Theft? Possibility.
She actually came into my office, an hour later. Nervous, twitchy, the same I felt in my cool exterior.
"Do you know what we do?"
"Um yes sir"
"I've always wondered this, pause time with me when I count down to one, ok?"
3.. 2... 1...
Apparently time freezes to the power of itself.
3125 seconds.
That's right. We paused time for almost a full hour.
I leaned forward in my chair. "We have much to discuss." | Everyone always gave me such shit for my powers in school. Was I gifted with the ability to fly? To shoot lasers out of my eyes? Even super strength? No, of course not. I could only pause time for five seconds. A power not worthy of making you a hero and just barely worthy of making you a sidekick. What could I really do? Stop a drink from getting spilled on the floor? The thought of it made my eyebrows furrow in anger at myself and the universe for such a lame power. Lost in my own thoughts I didn’t even realize that the last bell of the school day had rung causing everyone in the math class I was in to slam shut their books and rush towards the exit of the school. I didn’t blame them, I was also excited to get out of the snobby upper class serving high school. It was a school where only the children of the most powerful hero’s and villains attended to learn to control and enhance their powers. The only reason I was even accepted in was because my mother was Wonder Woman’s granddaughter and the board simply couldn’t refuse someone of my “bloodline.”
With a sigh, I waited for the last person to leave the room before collecting my things and heading out. Even the teacher had left the room before me, but that just meant that I could escape down the halls without anyone paying attention to me which is what I liked. I made my way through the mostly empty courtyard to the front gate of the school, there weren’t many students left on campus at the moment. They had already hurried out onto their buses or into their cars to head home for the night. The only people left were the after school kids heading to various parts of the school for their clubs and sports activities.
I got to the gate of the school and slipped my headphones in to prepare myself for the walk home before beginning to scroll through my music app to look for a song, not paying attention to the street as I began to make my way across the street. I should have paid attention. Right as I went to hit play, while simultaneously taking my 3rd step and placing myself in the middle of the road I heard a very fast approaching horn. Instantly, my head jerked up and my eyes went wide as I realized a straggling bus was barreling down the schools driveway going to fast to stop before it would hit me. “STOP” I felt myself scream in my head and what happened next shocked me more than even the bus had. All time had frozen and I began to count my allotted seconds but just as it froze I felt a hand on my shoulder.
One Mississippi- I looked and it was Alvera, one of the cheerleaders
Two Mississippi- she had the power of speed
Three Mississippi- her eyes were full of fear. She was scared and trying to save me. Why?
Four Mississippi- I have to return the favor
Five Mississippi - uh oh
The sound of the horn became loud again as time abruptly brought itself back into rhythm, I decided that the best course of action would be to let Alvera save me so I didn’t end up accidentally killing the both of us if I couldn’t move her fast enough. Sure enough her body crashed into mine sending both of us flying to the other side of the street. I felt my head smack against the sidewalk and her on top of me as the bus wooshed pass us. I dizzily looked up at her, for the first time noticing how beautiful she truly was. | |
[WP] You were born with the ability to stop time, but only temporarily. You can stop time for as five seconds. One day, at 33 years old, you stop time. As you move through your crowded office, you notice one of your coworkers's fingers twitch. | In a crowded office, a man was munching his favorite chocolate cookies. Cookies which were especially smooth and buttery!
‘I should buy one of these on my way home.’ He thought.
As he happily took another bite, a voice came from his right side.
“Eh, you also brought cookies?”
There, a slightly chubby man asked in confusion as he glanced at the cookies. These cookies were his favorite. Coincidentally, they were also the same size as what he had bought this morning.
A sudden thought emerged as the chubby man checked his personal locker in a hurry.
“Oh, no!”
His locker was empty.
“What the hell, Jerry!” chubby man shouted in bewilderment and proceed to examine his desk. He simply couldn’t believe it…
His friend, Jerry, naturally continued to ate his cookies as he watched the poor guy. ‘Well,’ He thought, ‘He was the one who asked for a bet.’
Sadly, the chubby guy couldn’t find a hole on his desk.
“Jerry” Glaring at his friend, the chubby guy said seriously. “Just tell me or I will go crazy!”
“Nope, it’s a secret.”
“Dammit!” The chubby guy simply watched his friend ate his cookies in silence. He didn’t care about the cookies. At the end that was the reward of the bet. Whatever he could take from his locker, he owns it! Although the chubby guy was on the losing side, he never accepted defeat. No, he was determined to uncover his best friend’s secret one day!
“How…” As the chubby guy was lost in thoughts, another friend of theirs walked towards them.
“Eh? What are you two talking about?” A cheerful girl asked.
The duo turned to look at the girl. Her silky hair, along with her sparkling eyes, caused most guys in the office to fancy her.
They were no exception.
Especially, the Jerry.
Suddenly seeing his crush in front of him, his mind spun for a moment.
“Nothing… Want some cookies?” Extending his hand stiffly, Jerry asked. In his head, he was cursing himself. What kind of question was that? At that moment, he really wished he could travel 5 seconds to the past instead of freezing it!
As he made a big deal over nothing, the girl smiled happily.
“It looks nice!”
After she took a cookie, another hand traveled towards the cookies and took two large pieces.
The chubby guy smiled evilly. “Thanks for the cookies.” Now that he saw an opening, he decided to go for it! Although there was a bet, no one knew about it. So, Jerry had to play along.
Jerry, whose face turned slightly red, suddenly noticed there were no more cookies on his hand!
“You…” Looking at his friend, he could merely accept the situation as he laughed awkwardly.
Suddenly a funny idea appeared on his mind.
As his two friends talked, he, without any warning, froze the time!
SWOSH!!
An invisible ripple spread from him and traveled at an unimaginable speed. Although it was impossible to see it, Jerry could perceive it’s existence.
Right at that moment, everything froze completely.
Now he had only 5 seconds.
5!
Jumping from where he stood with great agility, he quickly stepped before his chubby friend.
‘Hehe, let me take back the cookies.’ His hands moved swiftly as he thought.
4!
Just as he was going to make his move in one swift motion, his eyes couldn’t help but drift over towards the young lady that stood right next to him.
A moment of distraction.
There, right in front of him, her crush stood silently. Her shiny black pupils, along with few strands of beautiful hair. He couldn’t help but freeze where he stood as he looked at her. In the end, it was his first time looking at her freely. He didn’t use his power before to glare at her. He thought it was wrong. Now, however, his brain stopped working for a moment.
All it took was 3 seconds.
1!
Luckily, a warning sound woke him up! It was his power's unique trait that would appear on the last second.
“Shit!” As his face wrapped in worry, he threw himself back!
If he was lucky, he would still land near the chair.
Right at that moment, as he was flying backward, he noticed a movement.
A slender finger moved slightly, as it shook a little.
Along with two gorgeous eyes, which glare at Jerry with worry.
"Huh?"
0!
He fell on to the ground heavily.
"Jerry?" His chubby friend immediately turned towards him.
"How did you fall?" Although he noticed a slight movement from the side of his eyesight, he couldn't understand how Jerry fell when he was sitting happily just a moment ago.
Jerry simply gaped towards her. He saw it clearly, the movement of her eyes!
Looking at her who was also staring towards him with a helpless expression, he opened his mouth and spoke. "You-"
Before he could say more, she took a step forwards and spoke quietly.
"Let's talk about this later." | Everyone always gave me such shit for my powers in school. Was I gifted with the ability to fly? To shoot lasers out of my eyes? Even super strength? No, of course not. I could only pause time for five seconds. A power not worthy of making you a hero and just barely worthy of making you a sidekick. What could I really do? Stop a drink from getting spilled on the floor? The thought of it made my eyebrows furrow in anger at myself and the universe for such a lame power. Lost in my own thoughts I didn’t even realize that the last bell of the school day had rung causing everyone in the math class I was in to slam shut their books and rush towards the exit of the school. I didn’t blame them, I was also excited to get out of the snobby upper class serving high school. It was a school where only the children of the most powerful hero’s and villains attended to learn to control and enhance their powers. The only reason I was even accepted in was because my mother was Wonder Woman’s granddaughter and the board simply couldn’t refuse someone of my “bloodline.”
With a sigh, I waited for the last person to leave the room before collecting my things and heading out. Even the teacher had left the room before me, but that just meant that I could escape down the halls without anyone paying attention to me which is what I liked. I made my way through the mostly empty courtyard to the front gate of the school, there weren’t many students left on campus at the moment. They had already hurried out onto their buses or into their cars to head home for the night. The only people left were the after school kids heading to various parts of the school for their clubs and sports activities.
I got to the gate of the school and slipped my headphones in to prepare myself for the walk home before beginning to scroll through my music app to look for a song, not paying attention to the street as I began to make my way across the street. I should have paid attention. Right as I went to hit play, while simultaneously taking my 3rd step and placing myself in the middle of the road I heard a very fast approaching horn. Instantly, my head jerked up and my eyes went wide as I realized a straggling bus was barreling down the schools driveway going to fast to stop before it would hit me. “STOP” I felt myself scream in my head and what happened next shocked me more than even the bus had. All time had frozen and I began to count my allotted seconds but just as it froze I felt a hand on my shoulder.
One Mississippi- I looked and it was Alvera, one of the cheerleaders
Two Mississippi- she had the power of speed
Three Mississippi- her eyes were full of fear. She was scared and trying to save me. Why?
Four Mississippi- I have to return the favor
Five Mississippi - uh oh
The sound of the horn became loud again as time abruptly brought itself back into rhythm, I decided that the best course of action would be to let Alvera save me so I didn’t end up accidentally killing the both of us if I couldn’t move her fast enough. Sure enough her body crashed into mine sending both of us flying to the other side of the street. I felt my head smack against the sidewalk and her on top of me as the bus wooshed pass us. I dizzily looked up at her, for the first time noticing how beautiful she truly was. | |
[WP] You were born with the ability to stop time, but only temporarily. You can stop time for as five seconds. One day, at 33 years old, you stop time. As you move through your crowded office, you notice one of your coworkers's fingers twitch. | I step up in front of him, crossing my arms. The time stop ends, causing him to jump when he sees me in front of him. Without giving him any warning, I grab onto his arm and drag him into one of the empty offices, closing and locking the door behind us.
"Explain yourself," I snap. "And don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. You are a shockingly amazing actor. If I didn't know any better-"
"Jamie, stop," he interrupts. "Okay, what are you talking about? How the hell did you jump through time and space to-"
"Connor, you're not fooling me. You know what I can do and I want to know why you know."
He laughs and takes my face in his hand. I try to smack him away but he won't move. With his other hand, he snaps his fingers, freezing the world in that moment. I look at him in shock. He releases me and opens the door, holding his arm for me to lead the way out,
"Walk with me, my child," he orders.
"Your child?" I scoff. "Connor, you're three years younger than me. Don't even try to treat me like a child."
Connor rolls his eyes and suddenly is enveloped in a warm yellow glow, blinding me temporarily. When the light fades away, Connor is suddenly a old man, buff as hell but dressed in almost nothing.
"My daughter, come with me," he repeats.
I look around the room, waiting for everyone to wake up and acknowledge that something is happening. Connor seems to notice my staring and smirks.
"My child, I control time. Time will not move until I want it to. Come with me."
I sigh and follow him as he leads me outside of the office. He brings me outside, showing me the whole world is frozen in time. He continues walking but I can't make myself follow him.
"Who are you? I finally ask. "You're clearly not Connor. Who are you really?"
"My name is Cronus. I am the God of Time," he explains. "You are my child, though my Dear Jamie, I am disappointed you haven't built your power to exceed five seconds."
I start to back away from the God standing in front of me. I had my pase where I wanted to learn about Greek Gods and I'm not messing with him. I turn to run but my body freezes in the action. He steps up in front of me, a twisted smirk on his face.
"Oh my child, there's no reason to fear me," he laughs, almost mocking me. "Now that I know you can't run away, let's talk about your power." | Everyone always gave me such shit for my powers in school. Was I gifted with the ability to fly? To shoot lasers out of my eyes? Even super strength? No, of course not. I could only pause time for five seconds. A power not worthy of making you a hero and just barely worthy of making you a sidekick. What could I really do? Stop a drink from getting spilled on the floor? The thought of it made my eyebrows furrow in anger at myself and the universe for such a lame power. Lost in my own thoughts I didn’t even realize that the last bell of the school day had rung causing everyone in the math class I was in to slam shut their books and rush towards the exit of the school. I didn’t blame them, I was also excited to get out of the snobby upper class serving high school. It was a school where only the children of the most powerful hero’s and villains attended to learn to control and enhance their powers. The only reason I was even accepted in was because my mother was Wonder Woman’s granddaughter and the board simply couldn’t refuse someone of my “bloodline.”
With a sigh, I waited for the last person to leave the room before collecting my things and heading out. Even the teacher had left the room before me, but that just meant that I could escape down the halls without anyone paying attention to me which is what I liked. I made my way through the mostly empty courtyard to the front gate of the school, there weren’t many students left on campus at the moment. They had already hurried out onto their buses or into their cars to head home for the night. The only people left were the after school kids heading to various parts of the school for their clubs and sports activities.
I got to the gate of the school and slipped my headphones in to prepare myself for the walk home before beginning to scroll through my music app to look for a song, not paying attention to the street as I began to make my way across the street. I should have paid attention. Right as I went to hit play, while simultaneously taking my 3rd step and placing myself in the middle of the road I heard a very fast approaching horn. Instantly, my head jerked up and my eyes went wide as I realized a straggling bus was barreling down the schools driveway going to fast to stop before it would hit me. “STOP” I felt myself scream in my head and what happened next shocked me more than even the bus had. All time had frozen and I began to count my allotted seconds but just as it froze I felt a hand on my shoulder.
One Mississippi- I looked and it was Alvera, one of the cheerleaders
Two Mississippi- she had the power of speed
Three Mississippi- her eyes were full of fear. She was scared and trying to save me. Why?
Four Mississippi- I have to return the favor
Five Mississippi - uh oh
The sound of the horn became loud again as time abruptly brought itself back into rhythm, I decided that the best course of action would be to let Alvera save me so I didn’t end up accidentally killing the both of us if I couldn’t move her fast enough. Sure enough her body crashed into mine sending both of us flying to the other side of the street. I felt my head smack against the sidewalk and her on top of me as the bus wooshed pass us. I dizzily looked up at her, for the first time noticing how beautiful she truly was. | |
[WP] You were born with the ability to stop time, but only temporarily. You can stop time for as five seconds. One day, at 33 years old, you stop time. As you move through your crowded office, you notice one of your coworkers's fingers twitch. | There he was. The guy in the nice suit with the shit-eating grin on his face. Called in from head office to settle our huge account like we didn't know what we were doing. It's been months. Several long months that he's been here. To everyone else he was the promised savior that would net us that giant cash cow of an investment and boost all our quarterly bonuses to at least an extra two zeroes on the tail end.
But to me, he was my schoolyard bully.
I had known this man forever. He's haunted me for years. Always boasted himself as the big man, pushing kids like me down to use as a stepping stone. Tripped me once during our high school football game costing us a big lead and losing our spot in the semifinals. I never heard the end of it. He turned it around for himself and went on the next year to be our MVP, a spot I had been working hard for.
And now here he is, come to gloat, as he once again takes the center stage. This time, it's my job he's gunning for, I'm sure of it.
I've been our boss's right hand man for years. She trusts me with everything. And I know it's me he's after, so he can flooze his way to the top, putting in no real work for the corporation whatsoever.
I promised myself I wouldn't ever use my power for personal gain, but this time, maybe I can make an exception.
Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick.
The last tock doesn't come.
As I quickly slip through the sea of statues, my vision narrows on my goal. His briefcase. Without his insider information, he's screwed at our presentation.
One.
I snatch the case and flick the lock open. Already unlocked. No need for security if he was sitting right next to it, but I don't think he anticipated going up against a timewalker.
Two.
The papers are in plain sight in the case. I slip them into my suit jacket and close the briefcase as if no one was there.
Three.
Scot free. I can't help but grin smugly. This rat bastard wouldn't know what hit him. I slide nonchalantly back into my seat and watch my victory unfold.
Four.
It's the perfect crime, he wouldn't know, no one could have seen, and he--
Five.
What was that?
The phones resume ringing. The crowd flows back into controlled chaos. The ruffle of papers pervade the air.
There's no way, was I just seeing things right now?
He's gone quiet. He's stopped talking to the people around him all of a sudden. It's gotta be a coincidence. But I had to be sure.
Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick.
His face held a somewhat serious demeanor. But something want right. He didn't seem frozen at all, not like the rest of the world, I'm their silent, suspended animation.
One.
He doesn't seem to be moving. I get up and check him up close, but there doesn't seem to be anything going on.
Two.
He seems eerily lifelike. I mean yes, he's alive, but it looks like he could move at any moment. But that would be impossible. Time is standing still.
Three.
I could have sworn I just saw him exhale.
Four.
Get a grip man. You're losing it.
Five.
I barely make it back to my seat as the printers hum back to life. Pens clicking, keyboards tapping away, the coffee machine dripping fresh.
I pick up my cigarettes and keys. I'm losing it.
I make my way down to the parking garage. I fumble in my pocket for my lighter.
Maybe I'm just nervous. I've never used my power for mischief like this before, and maybe guilt is just setting in too fast. I need to calm down, it's not like anyone will know.
Long drags of my cigarette calm my nerves. I extinguish the last of it and flick it into the nearby trash bin. I turn absentmindedly, expecting to hear the slight tap of the butt against the trash liner.
But it never comes.
A familiar face meets my eyes. That signature shit-eating grin.
I couldn't help but chuckle. I had a feeling.
"You don't look too surprised to see me."
I could barely hide my own shit-eating grin. "Please. You're a horrible actor. Couldn't even hold your breath for five seconds."
"It took you this long to use your time walk for a bit of fun. Hell, I've been using mine for all sorts of shit since fourth grade. It took everything in me not to laugh my ass off."
Explains how he's wormed his way through life, really.
"Now, my folder back, if you please?"
I've been found out, and by another timewalker no less. Still, I'm not about to give up my job without a fight. "I dunno," I muse to myself, "might just turn this in to the boss and keep my job. Or if you're man enough, you'll take it from me. What's it gonna be? No one's gonna believe you if you try to rat me out."
"I've never really liked that tone of yours. Not since day one. So I think I'll be taking those."
His shiny leather oxfords click as he drew closer.
Part of me was hoping for this. Today's the day I finally get even. I could barely contain myself. I advance toward him as well.
"Oho, you're approaching me?"
"I can't beat the shit out of you without getting closer." | Everyone always gave me such shit for my powers in school. Was I gifted with the ability to fly? To shoot lasers out of my eyes? Even super strength? No, of course not. I could only pause time for five seconds. A power not worthy of making you a hero and just barely worthy of making you a sidekick. What could I really do? Stop a drink from getting spilled on the floor? The thought of it made my eyebrows furrow in anger at myself and the universe for such a lame power. Lost in my own thoughts I didn’t even realize that the last bell of the school day had rung causing everyone in the math class I was in to slam shut their books and rush towards the exit of the school. I didn’t blame them, I was also excited to get out of the snobby upper class serving high school. It was a school where only the children of the most powerful hero’s and villains attended to learn to control and enhance their powers. The only reason I was even accepted in was because my mother was Wonder Woman’s granddaughter and the board simply couldn’t refuse someone of my “bloodline.”
With a sigh, I waited for the last person to leave the room before collecting my things and heading out. Even the teacher had left the room before me, but that just meant that I could escape down the halls without anyone paying attention to me which is what I liked. I made my way through the mostly empty courtyard to the front gate of the school, there weren’t many students left on campus at the moment. They had already hurried out onto their buses or into their cars to head home for the night. The only people left were the after school kids heading to various parts of the school for their clubs and sports activities.
I got to the gate of the school and slipped my headphones in to prepare myself for the walk home before beginning to scroll through my music app to look for a song, not paying attention to the street as I began to make my way across the street. I should have paid attention. Right as I went to hit play, while simultaneously taking my 3rd step and placing myself in the middle of the road I heard a very fast approaching horn. Instantly, my head jerked up and my eyes went wide as I realized a straggling bus was barreling down the schools driveway going to fast to stop before it would hit me. “STOP” I felt myself scream in my head and what happened next shocked me more than even the bus had. All time had frozen and I began to count my allotted seconds but just as it froze I felt a hand on my shoulder.
One Mississippi- I looked and it was Alvera, one of the cheerleaders
Two Mississippi- she had the power of speed
Three Mississippi- her eyes were full of fear. She was scared and trying to save me. Why?
Four Mississippi- I have to return the favor
Five Mississippi - uh oh
The sound of the horn became loud again as time abruptly brought itself back into rhythm, I decided that the best course of action would be to let Alvera save me so I didn’t end up accidentally killing the both of us if I couldn’t move her fast enough. Sure enough her body crashed into mine sending both of us flying to the other side of the street. I felt my head smack against the sidewalk and her on top of me as the bus wooshed pass us. I dizzily looked up at her, for the first time noticing how beautiful she truly was. | |
[WP] You were born with the ability to stop time, but only temporarily. You can stop time for as five seconds. One day, at 33 years old, you stop time. As you move through your crowded office, you notice one of your coworkers's fingers twitch. | It would make sense that someone would share my talents, how could the phenomenon of my powers be isolated to me alone? I didn't have a lot to go on that Chandler had the power to stop the world. He's something of an office bumpler, always mixing the wrong files and spilling coffee, and is something of a slob. None the less, he is a rather easy enough guy to get along with. I just need to know for sure.
I sat down at a corner table at a pub down the street from the office. It was a relatively common spot for the guys at work, ranting on about office politics and which secretary they'd rather sleep with. This was as a good irish pub tho, with good live music. I made sure to sit far away enough from the local band so I can make sure Chandler would hear me.
I noticed chandler walking into the pub, I greeted him with a wide smile and enthusiastic wave. As he made his way over i froze time in between his steps. Totally frozen, his right foot hovered off the floor. Time started again. I just need a little bit more, just to make sure.
"Hey man! Thanks for coming out."
"Sup budd!" Chandler responded happily. He's pretty much a kid, a year out of college. "How bout i get the first round?'
This was going easier then expected. Maybe I can just out right ask him if he can stop time, and pass it off as a drunk joke? Yes. That would work.
A few moments passed and the waitress brought 2 shots of rum to our table. First shot i've done in years, can't believe i forgot how much it burned.
"I was really surprised when you asked me for drinks, Tim." Chandler said, wiping the excess rum from his lips.
The band in the back of the bar started playing a song. A half decent version of When Im Up, I Can't Get Down.
"Well.." Shit. Small talk. My only weakness. "Well, i'm kind of an introvert. Usually keep to myself."
"That is fair. After all, who really has the time?"
What did he just say?
"Im sorry Chandler, I can't hear you over the band playing. Can you repeat that?"
"I just said who has the time? Like there's just not enough time in the day, y'know?" Chandler responded with a shrug.
The waitress came back around to our table with another 2 shots of rum.
"Yea. I get that feeling." I said picking up the shot. Down it went, still burned as bad as the first.
I listened to the music in the background. WHEN I'M UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
I'm just being paranoid. That's it. Chandler is just a kid.
The waitress returned to our table, much quicker then I anticipated. Dropped another 2 shots. Chandler quickly downed it. I'll save it for a few minutes later, pace myself.
"Need a break?" Chandler said with a laugh.
"We're not all 25, gotta learn to take your time!"
"I'm sure you know about taking time, eh?"
What the hell is going on here? Is he hitting on me?
I quickly took the shot. Get drunk, ask the question, go home. No need to ruminate any further.
The band in the background started again. WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
"Have you ever hear of something called Jojo, Tim?"
"Jojo? what is that a drink?"
"no, no, no. It's like a cartoon from japan. It's weird but its a lot of fun to watch."
"oh.. no, i don't watch a lot of cartoons these days."
WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
The waitress returns for another time and drops 2 shot glasses on the table.
"I think you'd like it. It's about these people with powers, and in like the third season theres this guy named Dio."
"Like Holy Diver, Dio?"
"Yes! EXACTLY like Holy Diver Dio! He was like the inspiration in a way, i guess. Anyway you'd like Dio.
"Why's that?" I said throwing the shot back.
"Because he can stop time, Tim."
WHAT. I spat out the rum.
WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
"oh, shit man, I'm sorry." I grabbed some napkins and wiped the spit off the table.
WHEN I'M UP I CANT'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
"Yea but there's another character I really like, he comes in later in the show."
Before i realized, I was back on my chair with 2 full shots on the table. Unused napkins on my side.
"I don't understand, Chandler."
WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
I need time to think this through. STOP TIME.
"As I was saying." Chandler interrupted, ruining the time stop.
WHAT?
"My favorite character is Diavolo."
WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
He... Stops my power? is that his schtick?
We stare at each other. Waiting for one of us to break the silence.
"Can you guess what Diavolo does, Tim?"
The waitress brings us our drinks. The band plays its same tune. WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
Wait a second. There's supposed to be more to that song.
Once more, STOP TIME.
It works this time. i pick up my shot, get up and walk towards chandler. I empty my shot on his head, The liquid frozen in space and time. I sit back down. Tiem starts again.
The liquid drops down on Chandler. Dripping down on him.
Chandler sat soaked in rum. He looked at me for a few moments.
WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, GET MY FEET BACK ON THE GROUND.
I look down at the table, with a full shot sitting in front of me. I look at chandler, he's completely dry.
"I'm guessing this Diavolo character.... he has the ability to rewind time?"
"Hmmmm. It's more like erase time. And you can pause time for.. how long?" | Everyone always gave me such shit for my powers in school. Was I gifted with the ability to fly? To shoot lasers out of my eyes? Even super strength? No, of course not. I could only pause time for five seconds. A power not worthy of making you a hero and just barely worthy of making you a sidekick. What could I really do? Stop a drink from getting spilled on the floor? The thought of it made my eyebrows furrow in anger at myself and the universe for such a lame power. Lost in my own thoughts I didn’t even realize that the last bell of the school day had rung causing everyone in the math class I was in to slam shut their books and rush towards the exit of the school. I didn’t blame them, I was also excited to get out of the snobby upper class serving high school. It was a school where only the children of the most powerful hero’s and villains attended to learn to control and enhance their powers. The only reason I was even accepted in was because my mother was Wonder Woman’s granddaughter and the board simply couldn’t refuse someone of my “bloodline.”
With a sigh, I waited for the last person to leave the room before collecting my things and heading out. Even the teacher had left the room before me, but that just meant that I could escape down the halls without anyone paying attention to me which is what I liked. I made my way through the mostly empty courtyard to the front gate of the school, there weren’t many students left on campus at the moment. They had already hurried out onto their buses or into their cars to head home for the night. The only people left were the after school kids heading to various parts of the school for their clubs and sports activities.
I got to the gate of the school and slipped my headphones in to prepare myself for the walk home before beginning to scroll through my music app to look for a song, not paying attention to the street as I began to make my way across the street. I should have paid attention. Right as I went to hit play, while simultaneously taking my 3rd step and placing myself in the middle of the road I heard a very fast approaching horn. Instantly, my head jerked up and my eyes went wide as I realized a straggling bus was barreling down the schools driveway going to fast to stop before it would hit me. “STOP” I felt myself scream in my head and what happened next shocked me more than even the bus had. All time had frozen and I began to count my allotted seconds but just as it froze I felt a hand on my shoulder.
One Mississippi- I looked and it was Alvera, one of the cheerleaders
Two Mississippi- she had the power of speed
Three Mississippi- her eyes were full of fear. She was scared and trying to save me. Why?
Four Mississippi- I have to return the favor
Five Mississippi - uh oh
The sound of the horn became loud again as time abruptly brought itself back into rhythm, I decided that the best course of action would be to let Alvera save me so I didn’t end up accidentally killing the both of us if I couldn’t move her fast enough. Sure enough her body crashed into mine sending both of us flying to the other side of the street. I felt my head smack against the sidewalk and her on top of me as the bus wooshed pass us. I dizzily looked up at her, for the first time noticing how beautiful she truly was. | |
[WP] You were born with the ability to stop time, but only temporarily. You can stop time for as five seconds. One day, at 33 years old, you stop time. As you move through your crowded office, you notice one of your coworkers's fingers twitch. | That damn twitch was on my mind for the past few weeks. What did it mean? Shes never moved before, in fact nothing has. Ants, chickens, people, or the planes in the sky. Nothing moves. Ever.
I tried to replicate it over and over and over again. I would stand next to her desk, freeze time, and watch. Once, out of sheer frustration I slapped her. Nothing.
FUCK.
This HAS to mean something. But what is it? I went as far as to hide a camera in her office and I would randomly freeze time....only to realize that of course the camera froze with it.....FUCK. THE FRUSTRATION! Answers, I needed answers. Was this all a ruse, was this in my head, did she actually move. I needed to know.
Then. One night, sitting at the end of the bar where I normally sit every night trying to figure out what in the fuck I have done with my life, and drowning it with shot after shot. The trick is to freeze time, grab the shot, slam it, then put it back.....kinda stealing but it helped me forget all the horrible things I had done, 5 seconds at a time. 5 seconds, is enough time to do terrible things. Especially while deployed to the war in Afghanistan....
I was sitting at the end of the bar, in my seat. Freezing time to increase my level of intoxication when all of the sudden I hear a voice.
"Hey."
I look over, and it's her. My co-worker. She's moving.....
Then I notice it.
6 seconds.....
7 seconds.......
8...9..10.11.12........
"WHAT IS THIS?!" I yelled. What's happening?!"
"It's ok, you're one of us."
"One of who...?"
"Us....you know? The ones who can freeze time and manipulate it, it bends to us, it's, us. We are time...."
"I don't understand."
"Come with me, we've been looking for you. It's time you learn. 5 seconds is only the beginning...." | Everyone always gave me such shit for my powers in school. Was I gifted with the ability to fly? To shoot lasers out of my eyes? Even super strength? No, of course not. I could only pause time for five seconds. A power not worthy of making you a hero and just barely worthy of making you a sidekick. What could I really do? Stop a drink from getting spilled on the floor? The thought of it made my eyebrows furrow in anger at myself and the universe for such a lame power. Lost in my own thoughts I didn’t even realize that the last bell of the school day had rung causing everyone in the math class I was in to slam shut their books and rush towards the exit of the school. I didn’t blame them, I was also excited to get out of the snobby upper class serving high school. It was a school where only the children of the most powerful hero’s and villains attended to learn to control and enhance their powers. The only reason I was even accepted in was because my mother was Wonder Woman’s granddaughter and the board simply couldn’t refuse someone of my “bloodline.”
With a sigh, I waited for the last person to leave the room before collecting my things and heading out. Even the teacher had left the room before me, but that just meant that I could escape down the halls without anyone paying attention to me which is what I liked. I made my way through the mostly empty courtyard to the front gate of the school, there weren’t many students left on campus at the moment. They had already hurried out onto their buses or into their cars to head home for the night. The only people left were the after school kids heading to various parts of the school for their clubs and sports activities.
I got to the gate of the school and slipped my headphones in to prepare myself for the walk home before beginning to scroll through my music app to look for a song, not paying attention to the street as I began to make my way across the street. I should have paid attention. Right as I went to hit play, while simultaneously taking my 3rd step and placing myself in the middle of the road I heard a very fast approaching horn. Instantly, my head jerked up and my eyes went wide as I realized a straggling bus was barreling down the schools driveway going to fast to stop before it would hit me. “STOP” I felt myself scream in my head and what happened next shocked me more than even the bus had. All time had frozen and I began to count my allotted seconds but just as it froze I felt a hand on my shoulder.
One Mississippi- I looked and it was Alvera, one of the cheerleaders
Two Mississippi- she had the power of speed
Three Mississippi- her eyes were full of fear. She was scared and trying to save me. Why?
Four Mississippi- I have to return the favor
Five Mississippi - uh oh
The sound of the horn became loud again as time abruptly brought itself back into rhythm, I decided that the best course of action would be to let Alvera save me so I didn’t end up accidentally killing the both of us if I couldn’t move her fast enough. Sure enough her body crashed into mine sending both of us flying to the other side of the street. I felt my head smack against the sidewalk and her on top of me as the bus wooshed pass us. I dizzily looked up at her, for the first time noticing how beautiful she truly was. | |
[WP] You were born with the ability to stop time, but only temporarily. You can stop time for as five seconds. One day, at 33 years old, you stop time. As you move through your crowded office, you notice one of your coworkers's fingers twitch. | There are 60 seconds in a minute 3,600 seconds in a hour, 86,400 in a day, and roughly 9 million a month so what's 5 seconds? More than you can possibly realize.
It started when I was five. My dad had tried to snash my face in a cake. With a quick slip of my head instead he shoved his hand in the cake to his embarrassment and moms scolding. I sat there, stunned. I had no idea what I just did, but I knew it was awesome.
Ar first, I thought I made myself super fast. I LOVED The Flash, and I thought my wish came true, receiving the All Spark. After a thorough experimentation, that was a definite nope. The world around me froze instead. Five seconds every hour. It did not stack.
It was the perfect prank tool, the perfect get out of jail card. A bully suddenly having his pants pulled down, sneaking past someone in the last second. I soon had 2 watches. Strange thing, all electronics froze, but mechanical ones worked perfectly fine. Being aware of when an hour passed through became important, and I was the star running back slipping out of tackles.
Won a scholarship, and played in college, and again, 5 seconds could NOT be underestimated. As time went on, i learned how to REWIND five seconds. That became huge. Went to Vegas that weekend. Been going every year since.
Which.. Leads me to this moment. I stopped time as I usually did to get into my office without too much hubalub, for the business I owned, when one of my new sales agents MOVED in my free moment.
We stopped, frozen, as the world moved around us. Eyes locked together in puzzled wonderment. I felt my blood courcing through my brain, my heart escalating in beats.
"Hey, Banksty. I want you in my office in one hour; bring your sales quotas."
That gave us both time to come to grips we weren't as singular as we both most likely thought. What was she doing in entry level sales? Espionage? No, despite my success I made sure we were small. Theft? Possibility.
She actually came into my office, an hour later. Nervous, twitchy, the same I felt in my cool exterior.
"Do you know what we do?"
"Um yes sir"
"I've always wondered this, pause time with me when I count down to one, ok?"
3.. 2... 1...
Apparently time freezes to the power of itself.
3125 seconds.
That's right. We paused time for almost a full hour.
I leaned forward in my chair. "We have much to discuss." | Okay, okay mum; I know I promised that I would only use it in life or death situations, but I was late alright! What do you want me to do? The boss was right there I couldn’t just let her see me!
Wait - your not my mum… what are you doing on my screen? Oh god I called the wrong number; how embarrassing! You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you? Well this is awkward…. I’ll explain. Bear with me.
I was born with a ‘gift’, a pretty powerful one too – if I say so myself. I can stop time! Cool right? Well it has some drawbacks; it’s only for 5 seconds, and I can only use it once a day (hence why I usually save it- hey! I do usually save it, this was a one time thing! Stop giving me that face!) but it is powerful, you have no idea how much can happen in 5 seconds.
So anyway, I-I overslept-and you know how New York can be in the mornings - and days - and nights: busy. I was like ½ hour late and Mandy (my boss) was already having a bad day, her kid got sick yesterday and there’s a new project that already late and- ANYWAY; I just, you know, paused time for a sec. No big deal.
No big deal… until I saw a finger twitch. And not any finger, noooo - that would be too easy! It was Max freaking Barnes’ finger: the office eye-candy. He twitched! Which meant either 2 things - I’m not actually stopping time and just forcing everyone into a paralysis like state; or he’s like me. If I’m being honest I’m not sure what one I hate least.
Why hate? Well isn’t it obvious? If it’s option numéro uno then I’m literally forcing everyone into like a personal prison for 5 seconds, and yeah it’s like only 5 seconds but still that terrifying! I had a dream like that- it was dehumanising to say the least.
But if it’s the second one; then oh my goodness am I screwed! He’s wayyy out of my league, and now he knows I can’t just swagger my way round the office like nothing happened! What would that look like?- like I didn’t care that’s what!
Maybe he didn’t see me? No he defiantly did; it’s not like I spent the last 3 seconds inspecting him like a little weirdo. I almost forgot to act normal before time continued, but if it doesn’t effect him then he literally watched me essentially check him out up close and personal.
Why am I telling you, did you say? I dunno, wanted to get it off my chest I guess. Plus you’re a complete stranger; you’ll judge but keep it to yourself. And who would believe you if you went around spouting you met a chick who stopped time – like no offence but you’d look like a nut job.
Anyway, I need to go; gotta get back to the office, sorry I FaceTimed the wrong number- I’m actually pretty surprised you didn’t hang up. Oh! My names Tilly by the way, Tilly Bell. What’s your name? Peter? Nice to meet you Peter – hopefully I’ll see ya around; bye! | |
[WP] You were born with the ability to stop time, but only temporarily. You can stop time for as five seconds. One day, at 33 years old, you stop time. As you move through your crowded office, you notice one of your coworkers's fingers twitch. | In a crowded office, a man was munching his favorite chocolate cookies. Cookies which were especially smooth and buttery!
‘I should buy one of these on my way home.’ He thought.
As he happily took another bite, a voice came from his right side.
“Eh, you also brought cookies?”
There, a slightly chubby man asked in confusion as he glanced at the cookies. These cookies were his favorite. Coincidentally, they were also the same size as what he had bought this morning.
A sudden thought emerged as the chubby man checked his personal locker in a hurry.
“Oh, no!”
His locker was empty.
“What the hell, Jerry!” chubby man shouted in bewilderment and proceed to examine his desk. He simply couldn’t believe it…
His friend, Jerry, naturally continued to ate his cookies as he watched the poor guy. ‘Well,’ He thought, ‘He was the one who asked for a bet.’
Sadly, the chubby guy couldn’t find a hole on his desk.
“Jerry” Glaring at his friend, the chubby guy said seriously. “Just tell me or I will go crazy!”
“Nope, it’s a secret.”
“Dammit!” The chubby guy simply watched his friend ate his cookies in silence. He didn’t care about the cookies. At the end that was the reward of the bet. Whatever he could take from his locker, he owns it! Although the chubby guy was on the losing side, he never accepted defeat. No, he was determined to uncover his best friend’s secret one day!
“How…” As the chubby guy was lost in thoughts, another friend of theirs walked towards them.
“Eh? What are you two talking about?” A cheerful girl asked.
The duo turned to look at the girl. Her silky hair, along with her sparkling eyes, caused most guys in the office to fancy her.
They were no exception.
Especially, the Jerry.
Suddenly seeing his crush in front of him, his mind spun for a moment.
“Nothing… Want some cookies?” Extending his hand stiffly, Jerry asked. In his head, he was cursing himself. What kind of question was that? At that moment, he really wished he could travel 5 seconds to the past instead of freezing it!
As he made a big deal over nothing, the girl smiled happily.
“It looks nice!”
After she took a cookie, another hand traveled towards the cookies and took two large pieces.
The chubby guy smiled evilly. “Thanks for the cookies.” Now that he saw an opening, he decided to go for it! Although there was a bet, no one knew about it. So, Jerry had to play along.
Jerry, whose face turned slightly red, suddenly noticed there were no more cookies on his hand!
“You…” Looking at his friend, he could merely accept the situation as he laughed awkwardly.
Suddenly a funny idea appeared on his mind.
As his two friends talked, he, without any warning, froze the time!
SWOSH!!
An invisible ripple spread from him and traveled at an unimaginable speed. Although it was impossible to see it, Jerry could perceive it’s existence.
Right at that moment, everything froze completely.
Now he had only 5 seconds.
5!
Jumping from where he stood with great agility, he quickly stepped before his chubby friend.
‘Hehe, let me take back the cookies.’ His hands moved swiftly as he thought.
4!
Just as he was going to make his move in one swift motion, his eyes couldn’t help but drift over towards the young lady that stood right next to him.
A moment of distraction.
There, right in front of him, her crush stood silently. Her shiny black pupils, along with few strands of beautiful hair. He couldn’t help but freeze where he stood as he looked at her. In the end, it was his first time looking at her freely. He didn’t use his power before to glare at her. He thought it was wrong. Now, however, his brain stopped working for a moment.
All it took was 3 seconds.
1!
Luckily, a warning sound woke him up! It was his power's unique trait that would appear on the last second.
“Shit!” As his face wrapped in worry, he threw himself back!
If he was lucky, he would still land near the chair.
Right at that moment, as he was flying backward, he noticed a movement.
A slender finger moved slightly, as it shook a little.
Along with two gorgeous eyes, which glare at Jerry with worry.
"Huh?"
0!
He fell on to the ground heavily.
"Jerry?" His chubby friend immediately turned towards him.
"How did you fall?" Although he noticed a slight movement from the side of his eyesight, he couldn't understand how Jerry fell when he was sitting happily just a moment ago.
Jerry simply gaped towards her. He saw it clearly, the movement of her eyes!
Looking at her who was also staring towards him with a helpless expression, he opened his mouth and spoke. "You-"
Before he could say more, she took a step forwards and spoke quietly.
"Let's talk about this later." | Okay, okay mum; I know I promised that I would only use it in life or death situations, but I was late alright! What do you want me to do? The boss was right there I couldn’t just let her see me!
Wait - your not my mum… what are you doing on my screen? Oh god I called the wrong number; how embarrassing! You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you? Well this is awkward…. I’ll explain. Bear with me.
I was born with a ‘gift’, a pretty powerful one too – if I say so myself. I can stop time! Cool right? Well it has some drawbacks; it’s only for 5 seconds, and I can only use it once a day (hence why I usually save it- hey! I do usually save it, this was a one time thing! Stop giving me that face!) but it is powerful, you have no idea how much can happen in 5 seconds.
So anyway, I-I overslept-and you know how New York can be in the mornings - and days - and nights: busy. I was like ½ hour late and Mandy (my boss) was already having a bad day, her kid got sick yesterday and there’s a new project that already late and- ANYWAY; I just, you know, paused time for a sec. No big deal.
No big deal… until I saw a finger twitch. And not any finger, noooo - that would be too easy! It was Max freaking Barnes’ finger: the office eye-candy. He twitched! Which meant either 2 things - I’m not actually stopping time and just forcing everyone into a paralysis like state; or he’s like me. If I’m being honest I’m not sure what one I hate least.
Why hate? Well isn’t it obvious? If it’s option numéro uno then I’m literally forcing everyone into like a personal prison for 5 seconds, and yeah it’s like only 5 seconds but still that terrifying! I had a dream like that- it was dehumanising to say the least.
But if it’s the second one; then oh my goodness am I screwed! He’s wayyy out of my league, and now he knows I can’t just swagger my way round the office like nothing happened! What would that look like?- like I didn’t care that’s what!
Maybe he didn’t see me? No he defiantly did; it’s not like I spent the last 3 seconds inspecting him like a little weirdo. I almost forgot to act normal before time continued, but if it doesn’t effect him then he literally watched me essentially check him out up close and personal.
Why am I telling you, did you say? I dunno, wanted to get it off my chest I guess. Plus you’re a complete stranger; you’ll judge but keep it to yourself. And who would believe you if you went around spouting you met a chick who stopped time – like no offence but you’d look like a nut job.
Anyway, I need to go; gotta get back to the office, sorry I FaceTimed the wrong number- I’m actually pretty surprised you didn’t hang up. Oh! My names Tilly by the way, Tilly Bell. What’s your name? Peter? Nice to meet you Peter – hopefully I’ll see ya around; bye! | |
[WP] You were born with the ability to stop time, but only temporarily. You can stop time for as five seconds. One day, at 33 years old, you stop time. As you move through your crowded office, you notice one of your coworkers's fingers twitch. | I step up in front of him, crossing my arms. The time stop ends, causing him to jump when he sees me in front of him. Without giving him any warning, I grab onto his arm and drag him into one of the empty offices, closing and locking the door behind us.
"Explain yourself," I snap. "And don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. You are a shockingly amazing actor. If I didn't know any better-"
"Jamie, stop," he interrupts. "Okay, what are you talking about? How the hell did you jump through time and space to-"
"Connor, you're not fooling me. You know what I can do and I want to know why you know."
He laughs and takes my face in his hand. I try to smack him away but he won't move. With his other hand, he snaps his fingers, freezing the world in that moment. I look at him in shock. He releases me and opens the door, holding his arm for me to lead the way out,
"Walk with me, my child," he orders.
"Your child?" I scoff. "Connor, you're three years younger than me. Don't even try to treat me like a child."
Connor rolls his eyes and suddenly is enveloped in a warm yellow glow, blinding me temporarily. When the light fades away, Connor is suddenly a old man, buff as hell but dressed in almost nothing.
"My daughter, come with me," he repeats.
I look around the room, waiting for everyone to wake up and acknowledge that something is happening. Connor seems to notice my staring and smirks.
"My child, I control time. Time will not move until I want it to. Come with me."
I sigh and follow him as he leads me outside of the office. He brings me outside, showing me the whole world is frozen in time. He continues walking but I can't make myself follow him.
"Who are you? I finally ask. "You're clearly not Connor. Who are you really?"
"My name is Cronus. I am the God of Time," he explains. "You are my child, though my Dear Jamie, I am disappointed you haven't built your power to exceed five seconds."
I start to back away from the God standing in front of me. I had my pase where I wanted to learn about Greek Gods and I'm not messing with him. I turn to run but my body freezes in the action. He steps up in front of me, a twisted smirk on his face.
"Oh my child, there's no reason to fear me," he laughs, almost mocking me. "Now that I know you can't run away, let's talk about your power." | Okay, okay mum; I know I promised that I would only use it in life or death situations, but I was late alright! What do you want me to do? The boss was right there I couldn’t just let her see me!
Wait - your not my mum… what are you doing on my screen? Oh god I called the wrong number; how embarrassing! You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you? Well this is awkward…. I’ll explain. Bear with me.
I was born with a ‘gift’, a pretty powerful one too – if I say so myself. I can stop time! Cool right? Well it has some drawbacks; it’s only for 5 seconds, and I can only use it once a day (hence why I usually save it- hey! I do usually save it, this was a one time thing! Stop giving me that face!) but it is powerful, you have no idea how much can happen in 5 seconds.
So anyway, I-I overslept-and you know how New York can be in the mornings - and days - and nights: busy. I was like ½ hour late and Mandy (my boss) was already having a bad day, her kid got sick yesterday and there’s a new project that already late and- ANYWAY; I just, you know, paused time for a sec. No big deal.
No big deal… until I saw a finger twitch. And not any finger, noooo - that would be too easy! It was Max freaking Barnes’ finger: the office eye-candy. He twitched! Which meant either 2 things - I’m not actually stopping time and just forcing everyone into a paralysis like state; or he’s like me. If I’m being honest I’m not sure what one I hate least.
Why hate? Well isn’t it obvious? If it’s option numéro uno then I’m literally forcing everyone into like a personal prison for 5 seconds, and yeah it’s like only 5 seconds but still that terrifying! I had a dream like that- it was dehumanising to say the least.
But if it’s the second one; then oh my goodness am I screwed! He’s wayyy out of my league, and now he knows I can’t just swagger my way round the office like nothing happened! What would that look like?- like I didn’t care that’s what!
Maybe he didn’t see me? No he defiantly did; it’s not like I spent the last 3 seconds inspecting him like a little weirdo. I almost forgot to act normal before time continued, but if it doesn’t effect him then he literally watched me essentially check him out up close and personal.
Why am I telling you, did you say? I dunno, wanted to get it off my chest I guess. Plus you’re a complete stranger; you’ll judge but keep it to yourself. And who would believe you if you went around spouting you met a chick who stopped time – like no offence but you’d look like a nut job.
Anyway, I need to go; gotta get back to the office, sorry I FaceTimed the wrong number- I’m actually pretty surprised you didn’t hang up. Oh! My names Tilly by the way, Tilly Bell. What’s your name? Peter? Nice to meet you Peter – hopefully I’ll see ya around; bye! | |
[WP] You were born with the ability to stop time, but only temporarily. You can stop time for as five seconds. One day, at 33 years old, you stop time. As you move through your crowded office, you notice one of your coworkers's fingers twitch. | There he was. The guy in the nice suit with the shit-eating grin on his face. Called in from head office to settle our huge account like we didn't know what we were doing. It's been months. Several long months that he's been here. To everyone else he was the promised savior that would net us that giant cash cow of an investment and boost all our quarterly bonuses to at least an extra two zeroes on the tail end.
But to me, he was my schoolyard bully.
I had known this man forever. He's haunted me for years. Always boasted himself as the big man, pushing kids like me down to use as a stepping stone. Tripped me once during our high school football game costing us a big lead and losing our spot in the semifinals. I never heard the end of it. He turned it around for himself and went on the next year to be our MVP, a spot I had been working hard for.
And now here he is, come to gloat, as he once again takes the center stage. This time, it's my job he's gunning for, I'm sure of it.
I've been our boss's right hand man for years. She trusts me with everything. And I know it's me he's after, so he can flooze his way to the top, putting in no real work for the corporation whatsoever.
I promised myself I wouldn't ever use my power for personal gain, but this time, maybe I can make an exception.
Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick.
The last tock doesn't come.
As I quickly slip through the sea of statues, my vision narrows on my goal. His briefcase. Without his insider information, he's screwed at our presentation.
One.
I snatch the case and flick the lock open. Already unlocked. No need for security if he was sitting right next to it, but I don't think he anticipated going up against a timewalker.
Two.
The papers are in plain sight in the case. I slip them into my suit jacket and close the briefcase as if no one was there.
Three.
Scot free. I can't help but grin smugly. This rat bastard wouldn't know what hit him. I slide nonchalantly back into my seat and watch my victory unfold.
Four.
It's the perfect crime, he wouldn't know, no one could have seen, and he--
Five.
What was that?
The phones resume ringing. The crowd flows back into controlled chaos. The ruffle of papers pervade the air.
There's no way, was I just seeing things right now?
He's gone quiet. He's stopped talking to the people around him all of a sudden. It's gotta be a coincidence. But I had to be sure.
Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick.
His face held a somewhat serious demeanor. But something want right. He didn't seem frozen at all, not like the rest of the world, I'm their silent, suspended animation.
One.
He doesn't seem to be moving. I get up and check him up close, but there doesn't seem to be anything going on.
Two.
He seems eerily lifelike. I mean yes, he's alive, but it looks like he could move at any moment. But that would be impossible. Time is standing still.
Three.
I could have sworn I just saw him exhale.
Four.
Get a grip man. You're losing it.
Five.
I barely make it back to my seat as the printers hum back to life. Pens clicking, keyboards tapping away, the coffee machine dripping fresh.
I pick up my cigarettes and keys. I'm losing it.
I make my way down to the parking garage. I fumble in my pocket for my lighter.
Maybe I'm just nervous. I've never used my power for mischief like this before, and maybe guilt is just setting in too fast. I need to calm down, it's not like anyone will know.
Long drags of my cigarette calm my nerves. I extinguish the last of it and flick it into the nearby trash bin. I turn absentmindedly, expecting to hear the slight tap of the butt against the trash liner.
But it never comes.
A familiar face meets my eyes. That signature shit-eating grin.
I couldn't help but chuckle. I had a feeling.
"You don't look too surprised to see me."
I could barely hide my own shit-eating grin. "Please. You're a horrible actor. Couldn't even hold your breath for five seconds."
"It took you this long to use your time walk for a bit of fun. Hell, I've been using mine for all sorts of shit since fourth grade. It took everything in me not to laugh my ass off."
Explains how he's wormed his way through life, really.
"Now, my folder back, if you please?"
I've been found out, and by another timewalker no less. Still, I'm not about to give up my job without a fight. "I dunno," I muse to myself, "might just turn this in to the boss and keep my job. Or if you're man enough, you'll take it from me. What's it gonna be? No one's gonna believe you if you try to rat me out."
"I've never really liked that tone of yours. Not since day one. So I think I'll be taking those."
His shiny leather oxfords click as he drew closer.
Part of me was hoping for this. Today's the day I finally get even. I could barely contain myself. I advance toward him as well.
"Oho, you're approaching me?"
"I can't beat the shit out of you without getting closer." | Okay, okay mum; I know I promised that I would only use it in life or death situations, but I was late alright! What do you want me to do? The boss was right there I couldn’t just let her see me!
Wait - your not my mum… what are you doing on my screen? Oh god I called the wrong number; how embarrassing! You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you? Well this is awkward…. I’ll explain. Bear with me.
I was born with a ‘gift’, a pretty powerful one too – if I say so myself. I can stop time! Cool right? Well it has some drawbacks; it’s only for 5 seconds, and I can only use it once a day (hence why I usually save it- hey! I do usually save it, this was a one time thing! Stop giving me that face!) but it is powerful, you have no idea how much can happen in 5 seconds.
So anyway, I-I overslept-and you know how New York can be in the mornings - and days - and nights: busy. I was like ½ hour late and Mandy (my boss) was already having a bad day, her kid got sick yesterday and there’s a new project that already late and- ANYWAY; I just, you know, paused time for a sec. No big deal.
No big deal… until I saw a finger twitch. And not any finger, noooo - that would be too easy! It was Max freaking Barnes’ finger: the office eye-candy. He twitched! Which meant either 2 things - I’m not actually stopping time and just forcing everyone into a paralysis like state; or he’s like me. If I’m being honest I’m not sure what one I hate least.
Why hate? Well isn’t it obvious? If it’s option numéro uno then I’m literally forcing everyone into like a personal prison for 5 seconds, and yeah it’s like only 5 seconds but still that terrifying! I had a dream like that- it was dehumanising to say the least.
But if it’s the second one; then oh my goodness am I screwed! He’s wayyy out of my league, and now he knows I can’t just swagger my way round the office like nothing happened! What would that look like?- like I didn’t care that’s what!
Maybe he didn’t see me? No he defiantly did; it’s not like I spent the last 3 seconds inspecting him like a little weirdo. I almost forgot to act normal before time continued, but if it doesn’t effect him then he literally watched me essentially check him out up close and personal.
Why am I telling you, did you say? I dunno, wanted to get it off my chest I guess. Plus you’re a complete stranger; you’ll judge but keep it to yourself. And who would believe you if you went around spouting you met a chick who stopped time – like no offence but you’d look like a nut job.
Anyway, I need to go; gotta get back to the office, sorry I FaceTimed the wrong number- I’m actually pretty surprised you didn’t hang up. Oh! My names Tilly by the way, Tilly Bell. What’s your name? Peter? Nice to meet you Peter – hopefully I’ll see ya around; bye! | |
[WP] You were born with the ability to stop time, but only temporarily. You can stop time for as five seconds. One day, at 33 years old, you stop time. As you move through your crowded office, you notice one of your coworkers's fingers twitch. | It would make sense that someone would share my talents, how could the phenomenon of my powers be isolated to me alone? I didn't have a lot to go on that Chandler had the power to stop the world. He's something of an office bumpler, always mixing the wrong files and spilling coffee, and is something of a slob. None the less, he is a rather easy enough guy to get along with. I just need to know for sure.
I sat down at a corner table at a pub down the street from the office. It was a relatively common spot for the guys at work, ranting on about office politics and which secretary they'd rather sleep with. This was as a good irish pub tho, with good live music. I made sure to sit far away enough from the local band so I can make sure Chandler would hear me.
I noticed chandler walking into the pub, I greeted him with a wide smile and enthusiastic wave. As he made his way over i froze time in between his steps. Totally frozen, his right foot hovered off the floor. Time started again. I just need a little bit more, just to make sure.
"Hey man! Thanks for coming out."
"Sup budd!" Chandler responded happily. He's pretty much a kid, a year out of college. "How bout i get the first round?'
This was going easier then expected. Maybe I can just out right ask him if he can stop time, and pass it off as a drunk joke? Yes. That would work.
A few moments passed and the waitress brought 2 shots of rum to our table. First shot i've done in years, can't believe i forgot how much it burned.
"I was really surprised when you asked me for drinks, Tim." Chandler said, wiping the excess rum from his lips.
The band in the back of the bar started playing a song. A half decent version of When Im Up, I Can't Get Down.
"Well.." Shit. Small talk. My only weakness. "Well, i'm kind of an introvert. Usually keep to myself."
"That is fair. After all, who really has the time?"
What did he just say?
"Im sorry Chandler, I can't hear you over the band playing. Can you repeat that?"
"I just said who has the time? Like there's just not enough time in the day, y'know?" Chandler responded with a shrug.
The waitress came back around to our table with another 2 shots of rum.
"Yea. I get that feeling." I said picking up the shot. Down it went, still burned as bad as the first.
I listened to the music in the background. WHEN I'M UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
I'm just being paranoid. That's it. Chandler is just a kid.
The waitress returned to our table, much quicker then I anticipated. Dropped another 2 shots. Chandler quickly downed it. I'll save it for a few minutes later, pace myself.
"Need a break?" Chandler said with a laugh.
"We're not all 25, gotta learn to take your time!"
"I'm sure you know about taking time, eh?"
What the hell is going on here? Is he hitting on me?
I quickly took the shot. Get drunk, ask the question, go home. No need to ruminate any further.
The band in the background started again. WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
"Have you ever hear of something called Jojo, Tim?"
"Jojo? what is that a drink?"
"no, no, no. It's like a cartoon from japan. It's weird but its a lot of fun to watch."
"oh.. no, i don't watch a lot of cartoons these days."
WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
The waitress returns for another time and drops 2 shot glasses on the table.
"I think you'd like it. It's about these people with powers, and in like the third season theres this guy named Dio."
"Like Holy Diver, Dio?"
"Yes! EXACTLY like Holy Diver Dio! He was like the inspiration in a way, i guess. Anyway you'd like Dio.
"Why's that?" I said throwing the shot back.
"Because he can stop time, Tim."
WHAT. I spat out the rum.
WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
"oh, shit man, I'm sorry." I grabbed some napkins and wiped the spit off the table.
WHEN I'M UP I CANT'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
"Yea but there's another character I really like, he comes in later in the show."
Before i realized, I was back on my chair with 2 full shots on the table. Unused napkins on my side.
"I don't understand, Chandler."
WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
I need time to think this through. STOP TIME.
"As I was saying." Chandler interrupted, ruining the time stop.
WHAT?
"My favorite character is Diavolo."
WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
He... Stops my power? is that his schtick?
We stare at each other. Waiting for one of us to break the silence.
"Can you guess what Diavolo does, Tim?"
The waitress brings us our drinks. The band plays its same tune. WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
Wait a second. There's supposed to be more to that song.
Once more, STOP TIME.
It works this time. i pick up my shot, get up and walk towards chandler. I empty my shot on his head, The liquid frozen in space and time. I sit back down. Tiem starts again.
The liquid drops down on Chandler. Dripping down on him.
Chandler sat soaked in rum. He looked at me for a few moments.
WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, GET MY FEET BACK ON THE GROUND.
I look down at the table, with a full shot sitting in front of me. I look at chandler, he's completely dry.
"I'm guessing this Diavolo character.... he has the ability to rewind time?"
"Hmmmm. It's more like erase time. And you can pause time for.. how long?" | Okay, okay mum; I know I promised that I would only use it in life or death situations, but I was late alright! What do you want me to do? The boss was right there I couldn’t just let her see me!
Wait - your not my mum… what are you doing on my screen? Oh god I called the wrong number; how embarrassing! You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you? Well this is awkward…. I’ll explain. Bear with me.
I was born with a ‘gift’, a pretty powerful one too – if I say so myself. I can stop time! Cool right? Well it has some drawbacks; it’s only for 5 seconds, and I can only use it once a day (hence why I usually save it- hey! I do usually save it, this was a one time thing! Stop giving me that face!) but it is powerful, you have no idea how much can happen in 5 seconds.
So anyway, I-I overslept-and you know how New York can be in the mornings - and days - and nights: busy. I was like ½ hour late and Mandy (my boss) was already having a bad day, her kid got sick yesterday and there’s a new project that already late and- ANYWAY; I just, you know, paused time for a sec. No big deal.
No big deal… until I saw a finger twitch. And not any finger, noooo - that would be too easy! It was Max freaking Barnes’ finger: the office eye-candy. He twitched! Which meant either 2 things - I’m not actually stopping time and just forcing everyone into a paralysis like state; or he’s like me. If I’m being honest I’m not sure what one I hate least.
Why hate? Well isn’t it obvious? If it’s option numéro uno then I’m literally forcing everyone into like a personal prison for 5 seconds, and yeah it’s like only 5 seconds but still that terrifying! I had a dream like that- it was dehumanising to say the least.
But if it’s the second one; then oh my goodness am I screwed! He’s wayyy out of my league, and now he knows I can’t just swagger my way round the office like nothing happened! What would that look like?- like I didn’t care that’s what!
Maybe he didn’t see me? No he defiantly did; it’s not like I spent the last 3 seconds inspecting him like a little weirdo. I almost forgot to act normal before time continued, but if it doesn’t effect him then he literally watched me essentially check him out up close and personal.
Why am I telling you, did you say? I dunno, wanted to get it off my chest I guess. Plus you’re a complete stranger; you’ll judge but keep it to yourself. And who would believe you if you went around spouting you met a chick who stopped time – like no offence but you’d look like a nut job.
Anyway, I need to go; gotta get back to the office, sorry I FaceTimed the wrong number- I’m actually pretty surprised you didn’t hang up. Oh! My names Tilly by the way, Tilly Bell. What’s your name? Peter? Nice to meet you Peter – hopefully I’ll see ya around; bye! | |
[WP] You were born with the ability to stop time, but only temporarily. You can stop time for as five seconds. One day, at 33 years old, you stop time. As you move through your crowded office, you notice one of your coworkers's fingers twitch. | That damn twitch was on my mind for the past few weeks. What did it mean? Shes never moved before, in fact nothing has. Ants, chickens, people, or the planes in the sky. Nothing moves. Ever.
I tried to replicate it over and over and over again. I would stand next to her desk, freeze time, and watch. Once, out of sheer frustration I slapped her. Nothing.
FUCK.
This HAS to mean something. But what is it? I went as far as to hide a camera in her office and I would randomly freeze time....only to realize that of course the camera froze with it.....FUCK. THE FRUSTRATION! Answers, I needed answers. Was this all a ruse, was this in my head, did she actually move. I needed to know.
Then. One night, sitting at the end of the bar where I normally sit every night trying to figure out what in the fuck I have done with my life, and drowning it with shot after shot. The trick is to freeze time, grab the shot, slam it, then put it back.....kinda stealing but it helped me forget all the horrible things I had done, 5 seconds at a time. 5 seconds, is enough time to do terrible things. Especially while deployed to the war in Afghanistan....
I was sitting at the end of the bar, in my seat. Freezing time to increase my level of intoxication when all of the sudden I hear a voice.
"Hey."
I look over, and it's her. My co-worker. She's moving.....
Then I notice it.
6 seconds.....
7 seconds.......
8...9..10.11.12........
"WHAT IS THIS?!" I yelled. What's happening?!"
"It's ok, you're one of us."
"One of who...?"
"Us....you know? The ones who can freeze time and manipulate it, it bends to us, it's, us. We are time...."
"I don't understand."
"Come with me, we've been looking for you. It's time you learn. 5 seconds is only the beginning...." | Okay, okay mum; I know I promised that I would only use it in life or death situations, but I was late alright! What do you want me to do? The boss was right there I couldn’t just let her see me!
Wait - your not my mum… what are you doing on my screen? Oh god I called the wrong number; how embarrassing! You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you? Well this is awkward…. I’ll explain. Bear with me.
I was born with a ‘gift’, a pretty powerful one too – if I say so myself. I can stop time! Cool right? Well it has some drawbacks; it’s only for 5 seconds, and I can only use it once a day (hence why I usually save it- hey! I do usually save it, this was a one time thing! Stop giving me that face!) but it is powerful, you have no idea how much can happen in 5 seconds.
So anyway, I-I overslept-and you know how New York can be in the mornings - and days - and nights: busy. I was like ½ hour late and Mandy (my boss) was already having a bad day, her kid got sick yesterday and there’s a new project that already late and- ANYWAY; I just, you know, paused time for a sec. No big deal.
No big deal… until I saw a finger twitch. And not any finger, noooo - that would be too easy! It was Max freaking Barnes’ finger: the office eye-candy. He twitched! Which meant either 2 things - I’m not actually stopping time and just forcing everyone into a paralysis like state; or he’s like me. If I’m being honest I’m not sure what one I hate least.
Why hate? Well isn’t it obvious? If it’s option numéro uno then I’m literally forcing everyone into like a personal prison for 5 seconds, and yeah it’s like only 5 seconds but still that terrifying! I had a dream like that- it was dehumanising to say the least.
But if it’s the second one; then oh my goodness am I screwed! He’s wayyy out of my league, and now he knows I can’t just swagger my way round the office like nothing happened! What would that look like?- like I didn’t care that’s what!
Maybe he didn’t see me? No he defiantly did; it’s not like I spent the last 3 seconds inspecting him like a little weirdo. I almost forgot to act normal before time continued, but if it doesn’t effect him then he literally watched me essentially check him out up close and personal.
Why am I telling you, did you say? I dunno, wanted to get it off my chest I guess. Plus you’re a complete stranger; you’ll judge but keep it to yourself. And who would believe you if you went around spouting you met a chick who stopped time – like no offence but you’d look like a nut job.
Anyway, I need to go; gotta get back to the office, sorry I FaceTimed the wrong number- I’m actually pretty surprised you didn’t hang up. Oh! My names Tilly by the way, Tilly Bell. What’s your name? Peter? Nice to meet you Peter – hopefully I’ll see ya around; bye! | |
[WP] You were born with the ability to stop time, but only temporarily. You can stop time for as five seconds. One day, at 33 years old, you stop time. As you move through your crowded office, you notice one of your coworkers's fingers twitch. | It would make sense that someone would share my talents, how could the phenomenon of my powers be isolated to me alone? I didn't have a lot to go on that Chandler had the power to stop the world. He's something of an office bumpler, always mixing the wrong files and spilling coffee, and is something of a slob. None the less, he is a rather easy enough guy to get along with. I just need to know for sure.
I sat down at a corner table at a pub down the street from the office. It was a relatively common spot for the guys at work, ranting on about office politics and which secretary they'd rather sleep with. This was as a good irish pub tho, with good live music. I made sure to sit far away enough from the local band so I can make sure Chandler would hear me.
I noticed chandler walking into the pub, I greeted him with a wide smile and enthusiastic wave. As he made his way over i froze time in between his steps. Totally frozen, his right foot hovered off the floor. Time started again. I just need a little bit more, just to make sure.
"Hey man! Thanks for coming out."
"Sup budd!" Chandler responded happily. He's pretty much a kid, a year out of college. "How bout i get the first round?'
This was going easier then expected. Maybe I can just out right ask him if he can stop time, and pass it off as a drunk joke? Yes. That would work.
A few moments passed and the waitress brought 2 shots of rum to our table. First shot i've done in years, can't believe i forgot how much it burned.
"I was really surprised when you asked me for drinks, Tim." Chandler said, wiping the excess rum from his lips.
The band in the back of the bar started playing a song. A half decent version of When Im Up, I Can't Get Down.
"Well.." Shit. Small talk. My only weakness. "Well, i'm kind of an introvert. Usually keep to myself."
"That is fair. After all, who really has the time?"
What did he just say?
"Im sorry Chandler, I can't hear you over the band playing. Can you repeat that?"
"I just said who has the time? Like there's just not enough time in the day, y'know?" Chandler responded with a shrug.
The waitress came back around to our table with another 2 shots of rum.
"Yea. I get that feeling." I said picking up the shot. Down it went, still burned as bad as the first.
I listened to the music in the background. WHEN I'M UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
I'm just being paranoid. That's it. Chandler is just a kid.
The waitress returned to our table, much quicker then I anticipated. Dropped another 2 shots. Chandler quickly downed it. I'll save it for a few minutes later, pace myself.
"Need a break?" Chandler said with a laugh.
"We're not all 25, gotta learn to take your time!"
"I'm sure you know about taking time, eh?"
What the hell is going on here? Is he hitting on me?
I quickly took the shot. Get drunk, ask the question, go home. No need to ruminate any further.
The band in the background started again. WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
"Have you ever hear of something called Jojo, Tim?"
"Jojo? what is that a drink?"
"no, no, no. It's like a cartoon from japan. It's weird but its a lot of fun to watch."
"oh.. no, i don't watch a lot of cartoons these days."
WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
The waitress returns for another time and drops 2 shot glasses on the table.
"I think you'd like it. It's about these people with powers, and in like the third season theres this guy named Dio."
"Like Holy Diver, Dio?"
"Yes! EXACTLY like Holy Diver Dio! He was like the inspiration in a way, i guess. Anyway you'd like Dio.
"Why's that?" I said throwing the shot back.
"Because he can stop time, Tim."
WHAT. I spat out the rum.
WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
"oh, shit man, I'm sorry." I grabbed some napkins and wiped the spit off the table.
WHEN I'M UP I CANT'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
"Yea but there's another character I really like, he comes in later in the show."
Before i realized, I was back on my chair with 2 full shots on the table. Unused napkins on my side.
"I don't understand, Chandler."
WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
I need time to think this through. STOP TIME.
"As I was saying." Chandler interrupted, ruining the time stop.
WHAT?
"My favorite character is Diavolo."
WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
He... Stops my power? is that his schtick?
We stare at each other. Waiting for one of us to break the silence.
"Can you guess what Diavolo does, Tim?"
The waitress brings us our drinks. The band plays its same tune. WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
Wait a second. There's supposed to be more to that song.
Once more, STOP TIME.
It works this time. i pick up my shot, get up and walk towards chandler. I empty my shot on his head, The liquid frozen in space and time. I sit back down. Tiem starts again.
The liquid drops down on Chandler. Dripping down on him.
Chandler sat soaked in rum. He looked at me for a few moments.
WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, GET MY FEET BACK ON THE GROUND.
I look down at the table, with a full shot sitting in front of me. I look at chandler, he's completely dry.
"I'm guessing this Diavolo character.... he has the ability to rewind time?"
"Hmmmm. It's more like erase time. And you can pause time for.. how long?" | There are 60 seconds in a minute 3,600 seconds in a hour, 86,400 in a day, and roughly 9 million a month so what's 5 seconds? More than you can possibly realize.
It started when I was five. My dad had tried to snash my face in a cake. With a quick slip of my head instead he shoved his hand in the cake to his embarrassment and moms scolding. I sat there, stunned. I had no idea what I just did, but I knew it was awesome.
Ar first, I thought I made myself super fast. I LOVED The Flash, and I thought my wish came true, receiving the All Spark. After a thorough experimentation, that was a definite nope. The world around me froze instead. Five seconds every hour. It did not stack.
It was the perfect prank tool, the perfect get out of jail card. A bully suddenly having his pants pulled down, sneaking past someone in the last second. I soon had 2 watches. Strange thing, all electronics froze, but mechanical ones worked perfectly fine. Being aware of when an hour passed through became important, and I was the star running back slipping out of tackles.
Won a scholarship, and played in college, and again, 5 seconds could NOT be underestimated. As time went on, i learned how to REWIND five seconds. That became huge. Went to Vegas that weekend. Been going every year since.
Which.. Leads me to this moment. I stopped time as I usually did to get into my office without too much hubalub, for the business I owned, when one of my new sales agents MOVED in my free moment.
We stopped, frozen, as the world moved around us. Eyes locked together in puzzled wonderment. I felt my blood courcing through my brain, my heart escalating in beats.
"Hey, Banksty. I want you in my office in one hour; bring your sales quotas."
That gave us both time to come to grips we weren't as singular as we both most likely thought. What was she doing in entry level sales? Espionage? No, despite my success I made sure we were small. Theft? Possibility.
She actually came into my office, an hour later. Nervous, twitchy, the same I felt in my cool exterior.
"Do you know what we do?"
"Um yes sir"
"I've always wondered this, pause time with me when I count down to one, ok?"
3.. 2... 1...
Apparently time freezes to the power of itself.
3125 seconds.
That's right. We paused time for almost a full hour.
I leaned forward in my chair. "We have much to discuss." | |
[WP] You were born with the ability to stop time, but only temporarily. You can stop time for as five seconds. One day, at 33 years old, you stop time. As you move through your crowded office, you notice one of your coworkers's fingers twitch. | There he was. The guy in the nice suit with the shit-eating grin on his face. Called in from head office to settle our huge account like we didn't know what we were doing. It's been months. Several long months that he's been here. To everyone else he was the promised savior that would net us that giant cash cow of an investment and boost all our quarterly bonuses to at least an extra two zeroes on the tail end.
But to me, he was my schoolyard bully.
I had known this man forever. He's haunted me for years. Always boasted himself as the big man, pushing kids like me down to use as a stepping stone. Tripped me once during our high school football game costing us a big lead and losing our spot in the semifinals. I never heard the end of it. He turned it around for himself and went on the next year to be our MVP, a spot I had been working hard for.
And now here he is, come to gloat, as he once again takes the center stage. This time, it's my job he's gunning for, I'm sure of it.
I've been our boss's right hand man for years. She trusts me with everything. And I know it's me he's after, so he can flooze his way to the top, putting in no real work for the corporation whatsoever.
I promised myself I wouldn't ever use my power for personal gain, but this time, maybe I can make an exception.
Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick.
The last tock doesn't come.
As I quickly slip through the sea of statues, my vision narrows on my goal. His briefcase. Without his insider information, he's screwed at our presentation.
One.
I snatch the case and flick the lock open. Already unlocked. No need for security if he was sitting right next to it, but I don't think he anticipated going up against a timewalker.
Two.
The papers are in plain sight in the case. I slip them into my suit jacket and close the briefcase as if no one was there.
Three.
Scot free. I can't help but grin smugly. This rat bastard wouldn't know what hit him. I slide nonchalantly back into my seat and watch my victory unfold.
Four.
It's the perfect crime, he wouldn't know, no one could have seen, and he--
Five.
What was that?
The phones resume ringing. The crowd flows back into controlled chaos. The ruffle of papers pervade the air.
There's no way, was I just seeing things right now?
He's gone quiet. He's stopped talking to the people around him all of a sudden. It's gotta be a coincidence. But I had to be sure.
Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick.
His face held a somewhat serious demeanor. But something want right. He didn't seem frozen at all, not like the rest of the world, I'm their silent, suspended animation.
One.
He doesn't seem to be moving. I get up and check him up close, but there doesn't seem to be anything going on.
Two.
He seems eerily lifelike. I mean yes, he's alive, but it looks like he could move at any moment. But that would be impossible. Time is standing still.
Three.
I could have sworn I just saw him exhale.
Four.
Get a grip man. You're losing it.
Five.
I barely make it back to my seat as the printers hum back to life. Pens clicking, keyboards tapping away, the coffee machine dripping fresh.
I pick up my cigarettes and keys. I'm losing it.
I make my way down to the parking garage. I fumble in my pocket for my lighter.
Maybe I'm just nervous. I've never used my power for mischief like this before, and maybe guilt is just setting in too fast. I need to calm down, it's not like anyone will know.
Long drags of my cigarette calm my nerves. I extinguish the last of it and flick it into the nearby trash bin. I turn absentmindedly, expecting to hear the slight tap of the butt against the trash liner.
But it never comes.
A familiar face meets my eyes. That signature shit-eating grin.
I couldn't help but chuckle. I had a feeling.
"You don't look too surprised to see me."
I could barely hide my own shit-eating grin. "Please. You're a horrible actor. Couldn't even hold your breath for five seconds."
"It took you this long to use your time walk for a bit of fun. Hell, I've been using mine for all sorts of shit since fourth grade. It took everything in me not to laugh my ass off."
Explains how he's wormed his way through life, really.
"Now, my folder back, if you please?"
I've been found out, and by another timewalker no less. Still, I'm not about to give up my job without a fight. "I dunno," I muse to myself, "might just turn this in to the boss and keep my job. Or if you're man enough, you'll take it from me. What's it gonna be? No one's gonna believe you if you try to rat me out."
"I've never really liked that tone of yours. Not since day one. So I think I'll be taking those."
His shiny leather oxfords click as he drew closer.
Part of me was hoping for this. Today's the day I finally get even. I could barely contain myself. I advance toward him as well.
"Oho, you're approaching me?"
"I can't beat the shit out of you without getting closer." | In a crowded office, a man was munching his favorite chocolate cookies. Cookies which were especially smooth and buttery!
‘I should buy one of these on my way home.’ He thought.
As he happily took another bite, a voice came from his right side.
“Eh, you also brought cookies?”
There, a slightly chubby man asked in confusion as he glanced at the cookies. These cookies were his favorite. Coincidentally, they were also the same size as what he had bought this morning.
A sudden thought emerged as the chubby man checked his personal locker in a hurry.
“Oh, no!”
His locker was empty.
“What the hell, Jerry!” chubby man shouted in bewilderment and proceed to examine his desk. He simply couldn’t believe it…
His friend, Jerry, naturally continued to ate his cookies as he watched the poor guy. ‘Well,’ He thought, ‘He was the one who asked for a bet.’
Sadly, the chubby guy couldn’t find a hole on his desk.
“Jerry” Glaring at his friend, the chubby guy said seriously. “Just tell me or I will go crazy!”
“Nope, it’s a secret.”
“Dammit!” The chubby guy simply watched his friend ate his cookies in silence. He didn’t care about the cookies. At the end that was the reward of the bet. Whatever he could take from his locker, he owns it! Although the chubby guy was on the losing side, he never accepted defeat. No, he was determined to uncover his best friend’s secret one day!
“How…” As the chubby guy was lost in thoughts, another friend of theirs walked towards them.
“Eh? What are you two talking about?” A cheerful girl asked.
The duo turned to look at the girl. Her silky hair, along with her sparkling eyes, caused most guys in the office to fancy her.
They were no exception.
Especially, the Jerry.
Suddenly seeing his crush in front of him, his mind spun for a moment.
“Nothing… Want some cookies?” Extending his hand stiffly, Jerry asked. In his head, he was cursing himself. What kind of question was that? At that moment, he really wished he could travel 5 seconds to the past instead of freezing it!
As he made a big deal over nothing, the girl smiled happily.
“It looks nice!”
After she took a cookie, another hand traveled towards the cookies and took two large pieces.
The chubby guy smiled evilly. “Thanks for the cookies.” Now that he saw an opening, he decided to go for it! Although there was a bet, no one knew about it. So, Jerry had to play along.
Jerry, whose face turned slightly red, suddenly noticed there were no more cookies on his hand!
“You…” Looking at his friend, he could merely accept the situation as he laughed awkwardly.
Suddenly a funny idea appeared on his mind.
As his two friends talked, he, without any warning, froze the time!
SWOSH!!
An invisible ripple spread from him and traveled at an unimaginable speed. Although it was impossible to see it, Jerry could perceive it’s existence.
Right at that moment, everything froze completely.
Now he had only 5 seconds.
5!
Jumping from where he stood with great agility, he quickly stepped before his chubby friend.
‘Hehe, let me take back the cookies.’ His hands moved swiftly as he thought.
4!
Just as he was going to make his move in one swift motion, his eyes couldn’t help but drift over towards the young lady that stood right next to him.
A moment of distraction.
There, right in front of him, her crush stood silently. Her shiny black pupils, along with few strands of beautiful hair. He couldn’t help but freeze where he stood as he looked at her. In the end, it was his first time looking at her freely. He didn’t use his power before to glare at her. He thought it was wrong. Now, however, his brain stopped working for a moment.
All it took was 3 seconds.
1!
Luckily, a warning sound woke him up! It was his power's unique trait that would appear on the last second.
“Shit!” As his face wrapped in worry, he threw himself back!
If he was lucky, he would still land near the chair.
Right at that moment, as he was flying backward, he noticed a movement.
A slender finger moved slightly, as it shook a little.
Along with two gorgeous eyes, which glare at Jerry with worry.
"Huh?"
0!
He fell on to the ground heavily.
"Jerry?" His chubby friend immediately turned towards him.
"How did you fall?" Although he noticed a slight movement from the side of his eyesight, he couldn't understand how Jerry fell when he was sitting happily just a moment ago.
Jerry simply gaped towards her. He saw it clearly, the movement of her eyes!
Looking at her who was also staring towards him with a helpless expression, he opened his mouth and spoke. "You-"
Before he could say more, she took a step forwards and spoke quietly.
"Let's talk about this later." | |
[WP] You were born with the ability to stop time, but only temporarily. You can stop time for as five seconds. One day, at 33 years old, you stop time. As you move through your crowded office, you notice one of your coworkers's fingers twitch. | It would make sense that someone would share my talents, how could the phenomenon of my powers be isolated to me alone? I didn't have a lot to go on that Chandler had the power to stop the world. He's something of an office bumpler, always mixing the wrong files and spilling coffee, and is something of a slob. None the less, he is a rather easy enough guy to get along with. I just need to know for sure.
I sat down at a corner table at a pub down the street from the office. It was a relatively common spot for the guys at work, ranting on about office politics and which secretary they'd rather sleep with. This was as a good irish pub tho, with good live music. I made sure to sit far away enough from the local band so I can make sure Chandler would hear me.
I noticed chandler walking into the pub, I greeted him with a wide smile and enthusiastic wave. As he made his way over i froze time in between his steps. Totally frozen, his right foot hovered off the floor. Time started again. I just need a little bit more, just to make sure.
"Hey man! Thanks for coming out."
"Sup budd!" Chandler responded happily. He's pretty much a kid, a year out of college. "How bout i get the first round?'
This was going easier then expected. Maybe I can just out right ask him if he can stop time, and pass it off as a drunk joke? Yes. That would work.
A few moments passed and the waitress brought 2 shots of rum to our table. First shot i've done in years, can't believe i forgot how much it burned.
"I was really surprised when you asked me for drinks, Tim." Chandler said, wiping the excess rum from his lips.
The band in the back of the bar started playing a song. A half decent version of When Im Up, I Can't Get Down.
"Well.." Shit. Small talk. My only weakness. "Well, i'm kind of an introvert. Usually keep to myself."
"That is fair. After all, who really has the time?"
What did he just say?
"Im sorry Chandler, I can't hear you over the band playing. Can you repeat that?"
"I just said who has the time? Like there's just not enough time in the day, y'know?" Chandler responded with a shrug.
The waitress came back around to our table with another 2 shots of rum.
"Yea. I get that feeling." I said picking up the shot. Down it went, still burned as bad as the first.
I listened to the music in the background. WHEN I'M UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
I'm just being paranoid. That's it. Chandler is just a kid.
The waitress returned to our table, much quicker then I anticipated. Dropped another 2 shots. Chandler quickly downed it. I'll save it for a few minutes later, pace myself.
"Need a break?" Chandler said with a laugh.
"We're not all 25, gotta learn to take your time!"
"I'm sure you know about taking time, eh?"
What the hell is going on here? Is he hitting on me?
I quickly took the shot. Get drunk, ask the question, go home. No need to ruminate any further.
The band in the background started again. WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
"Have you ever hear of something called Jojo, Tim?"
"Jojo? what is that a drink?"
"no, no, no. It's like a cartoon from japan. It's weird but its a lot of fun to watch."
"oh.. no, i don't watch a lot of cartoons these days."
WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
The waitress returns for another time and drops 2 shot glasses on the table.
"I think you'd like it. It's about these people with powers, and in like the third season theres this guy named Dio."
"Like Holy Diver, Dio?"
"Yes! EXACTLY like Holy Diver Dio! He was like the inspiration in a way, i guess. Anyway you'd like Dio.
"Why's that?" I said throwing the shot back.
"Because he can stop time, Tim."
WHAT. I spat out the rum.
WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
"oh, shit man, I'm sorry." I grabbed some napkins and wiped the spit off the table.
WHEN I'M UP I CANT'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
"Yea but there's another character I really like, he comes in later in the show."
Before i realized, I was back on my chair with 2 full shots on the table. Unused napkins on my side.
"I don't understand, Chandler."
WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
I need time to think this through. STOP TIME.
"As I was saying." Chandler interrupted, ruining the time stop.
WHAT?
"My favorite character is Diavolo."
WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
He... Stops my power? is that his schtick?
We stare at each other. Waiting for one of us to break the silence.
"Can you guess what Diavolo does, Tim?"
The waitress brings us our drinks. The band plays its same tune. WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
Wait a second. There's supposed to be more to that song.
Once more, STOP TIME.
It works this time. i pick up my shot, get up and walk towards chandler. I empty my shot on his head, The liquid frozen in space and time. I sit back down. Tiem starts again.
The liquid drops down on Chandler. Dripping down on him.
Chandler sat soaked in rum. He looked at me for a few moments.
WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, GET MY FEET BACK ON THE GROUND.
I look down at the table, with a full shot sitting in front of me. I look at chandler, he's completely dry.
"I'm guessing this Diavolo character.... he has the ability to rewind time?"
"Hmmmm. It's more like erase time. And you can pause time for.. how long?" | In a crowded office, a man was munching his favorite chocolate cookies. Cookies which were especially smooth and buttery!
‘I should buy one of these on my way home.’ He thought.
As he happily took another bite, a voice came from his right side.
“Eh, you also brought cookies?”
There, a slightly chubby man asked in confusion as he glanced at the cookies. These cookies were his favorite. Coincidentally, they were also the same size as what he had bought this morning.
A sudden thought emerged as the chubby man checked his personal locker in a hurry.
“Oh, no!”
His locker was empty.
“What the hell, Jerry!” chubby man shouted in bewilderment and proceed to examine his desk. He simply couldn’t believe it…
His friend, Jerry, naturally continued to ate his cookies as he watched the poor guy. ‘Well,’ He thought, ‘He was the one who asked for a bet.’
Sadly, the chubby guy couldn’t find a hole on his desk.
“Jerry” Glaring at his friend, the chubby guy said seriously. “Just tell me or I will go crazy!”
“Nope, it’s a secret.”
“Dammit!” The chubby guy simply watched his friend ate his cookies in silence. He didn’t care about the cookies. At the end that was the reward of the bet. Whatever he could take from his locker, he owns it! Although the chubby guy was on the losing side, he never accepted defeat. No, he was determined to uncover his best friend’s secret one day!
“How…” As the chubby guy was lost in thoughts, another friend of theirs walked towards them.
“Eh? What are you two talking about?” A cheerful girl asked.
The duo turned to look at the girl. Her silky hair, along with her sparkling eyes, caused most guys in the office to fancy her.
They were no exception.
Especially, the Jerry.
Suddenly seeing his crush in front of him, his mind spun for a moment.
“Nothing… Want some cookies?” Extending his hand stiffly, Jerry asked. In his head, he was cursing himself. What kind of question was that? At that moment, he really wished he could travel 5 seconds to the past instead of freezing it!
As he made a big deal over nothing, the girl smiled happily.
“It looks nice!”
After she took a cookie, another hand traveled towards the cookies and took two large pieces.
The chubby guy smiled evilly. “Thanks for the cookies.” Now that he saw an opening, he decided to go for it! Although there was a bet, no one knew about it. So, Jerry had to play along.
Jerry, whose face turned slightly red, suddenly noticed there were no more cookies on his hand!
“You…” Looking at his friend, he could merely accept the situation as he laughed awkwardly.
Suddenly a funny idea appeared on his mind.
As his two friends talked, he, without any warning, froze the time!
SWOSH!!
An invisible ripple spread from him and traveled at an unimaginable speed. Although it was impossible to see it, Jerry could perceive it’s existence.
Right at that moment, everything froze completely.
Now he had only 5 seconds.
5!
Jumping from where he stood with great agility, he quickly stepped before his chubby friend.
‘Hehe, let me take back the cookies.’ His hands moved swiftly as he thought.
4!
Just as he was going to make his move in one swift motion, his eyes couldn’t help but drift over towards the young lady that stood right next to him.
A moment of distraction.
There, right in front of him, her crush stood silently. Her shiny black pupils, along with few strands of beautiful hair. He couldn’t help but freeze where he stood as he looked at her. In the end, it was his first time looking at her freely. He didn’t use his power before to glare at her. He thought it was wrong. Now, however, his brain stopped working for a moment.
All it took was 3 seconds.
1!
Luckily, a warning sound woke him up! It was his power's unique trait that would appear on the last second.
“Shit!” As his face wrapped in worry, he threw himself back!
If he was lucky, he would still land near the chair.
Right at that moment, as he was flying backward, he noticed a movement.
A slender finger moved slightly, as it shook a little.
Along with two gorgeous eyes, which glare at Jerry with worry.
"Huh?"
0!
He fell on to the ground heavily.
"Jerry?" His chubby friend immediately turned towards him.
"How did you fall?" Although he noticed a slight movement from the side of his eyesight, he couldn't understand how Jerry fell when he was sitting happily just a moment ago.
Jerry simply gaped towards her. He saw it clearly, the movement of her eyes!
Looking at her who was also staring towards him with a helpless expression, he opened his mouth and spoke. "You-"
Before he could say more, she took a step forwards and spoke quietly.
"Let's talk about this later." | |
[WP] You were born with the ability to stop time, but only temporarily. You can stop time for as five seconds. One day, at 33 years old, you stop time. As you move through your crowded office, you notice one of your coworkers's fingers twitch. | That damn twitch was on my mind for the past few weeks. What did it mean? Shes never moved before, in fact nothing has. Ants, chickens, people, or the planes in the sky. Nothing moves. Ever.
I tried to replicate it over and over and over again. I would stand next to her desk, freeze time, and watch. Once, out of sheer frustration I slapped her. Nothing.
FUCK.
This HAS to mean something. But what is it? I went as far as to hide a camera in her office and I would randomly freeze time....only to realize that of course the camera froze with it.....FUCK. THE FRUSTRATION! Answers, I needed answers. Was this all a ruse, was this in my head, did she actually move. I needed to know.
Then. One night, sitting at the end of the bar where I normally sit every night trying to figure out what in the fuck I have done with my life, and drowning it with shot after shot. The trick is to freeze time, grab the shot, slam it, then put it back.....kinda stealing but it helped me forget all the horrible things I had done, 5 seconds at a time. 5 seconds, is enough time to do terrible things. Especially while deployed to the war in Afghanistan....
I was sitting at the end of the bar, in my seat. Freezing time to increase my level of intoxication when all of the sudden I hear a voice.
"Hey."
I look over, and it's her. My co-worker. She's moving.....
Then I notice it.
6 seconds.....
7 seconds.......
8...9..10.11.12........
"WHAT IS THIS?!" I yelled. What's happening?!"
"It's ok, you're one of us."
"One of who...?"
"Us....you know? The ones who can freeze time and manipulate it, it bends to us, it's, us. We are time...."
"I don't understand."
"Come with me, we've been looking for you. It's time you learn. 5 seconds is only the beginning...." | In a crowded office, a man was munching his favorite chocolate cookies. Cookies which were especially smooth and buttery!
‘I should buy one of these on my way home.’ He thought.
As he happily took another bite, a voice came from his right side.
“Eh, you also brought cookies?”
There, a slightly chubby man asked in confusion as he glanced at the cookies. These cookies were his favorite. Coincidentally, they were also the same size as what he had bought this morning.
A sudden thought emerged as the chubby man checked his personal locker in a hurry.
“Oh, no!”
His locker was empty.
“What the hell, Jerry!” chubby man shouted in bewilderment and proceed to examine his desk. He simply couldn’t believe it…
His friend, Jerry, naturally continued to ate his cookies as he watched the poor guy. ‘Well,’ He thought, ‘He was the one who asked for a bet.’
Sadly, the chubby guy couldn’t find a hole on his desk.
“Jerry” Glaring at his friend, the chubby guy said seriously. “Just tell me or I will go crazy!”
“Nope, it’s a secret.”
“Dammit!” The chubby guy simply watched his friend ate his cookies in silence. He didn’t care about the cookies. At the end that was the reward of the bet. Whatever he could take from his locker, he owns it! Although the chubby guy was on the losing side, he never accepted defeat. No, he was determined to uncover his best friend’s secret one day!
“How…” As the chubby guy was lost in thoughts, another friend of theirs walked towards them.
“Eh? What are you two talking about?” A cheerful girl asked.
The duo turned to look at the girl. Her silky hair, along with her sparkling eyes, caused most guys in the office to fancy her.
They were no exception.
Especially, the Jerry.
Suddenly seeing his crush in front of him, his mind spun for a moment.
“Nothing… Want some cookies?” Extending his hand stiffly, Jerry asked. In his head, he was cursing himself. What kind of question was that? At that moment, he really wished he could travel 5 seconds to the past instead of freezing it!
As he made a big deal over nothing, the girl smiled happily.
“It looks nice!”
After she took a cookie, another hand traveled towards the cookies and took two large pieces.
The chubby guy smiled evilly. “Thanks for the cookies.” Now that he saw an opening, he decided to go for it! Although there was a bet, no one knew about it. So, Jerry had to play along.
Jerry, whose face turned slightly red, suddenly noticed there were no more cookies on his hand!
“You…” Looking at his friend, he could merely accept the situation as he laughed awkwardly.
Suddenly a funny idea appeared on his mind.
As his two friends talked, he, without any warning, froze the time!
SWOSH!!
An invisible ripple spread from him and traveled at an unimaginable speed. Although it was impossible to see it, Jerry could perceive it’s existence.
Right at that moment, everything froze completely.
Now he had only 5 seconds.
5!
Jumping from where he stood with great agility, he quickly stepped before his chubby friend.
‘Hehe, let me take back the cookies.’ His hands moved swiftly as he thought.
4!
Just as he was going to make his move in one swift motion, his eyes couldn’t help but drift over towards the young lady that stood right next to him.
A moment of distraction.
There, right in front of him, her crush stood silently. Her shiny black pupils, along with few strands of beautiful hair. He couldn’t help but freeze where he stood as he looked at her. In the end, it was his first time looking at her freely. He didn’t use his power before to glare at her. He thought it was wrong. Now, however, his brain stopped working for a moment.
All it took was 3 seconds.
1!
Luckily, a warning sound woke him up! It was his power's unique trait that would appear on the last second.
“Shit!” As his face wrapped in worry, he threw himself back!
If he was lucky, he would still land near the chair.
Right at that moment, as he was flying backward, he noticed a movement.
A slender finger moved slightly, as it shook a little.
Along with two gorgeous eyes, which glare at Jerry with worry.
"Huh?"
0!
He fell on to the ground heavily.
"Jerry?" His chubby friend immediately turned towards him.
"How did you fall?" Although he noticed a slight movement from the side of his eyesight, he couldn't understand how Jerry fell when he was sitting happily just a moment ago.
Jerry simply gaped towards her. He saw it clearly, the movement of her eyes!
Looking at her who was also staring towards him with a helpless expression, he opened his mouth and spoke. "You-"
Before he could say more, she took a step forwards and spoke quietly.
"Let's talk about this later." | |
[WP] You were born with the ability to stop time, but only temporarily. You can stop time for as five seconds. One day, at 33 years old, you stop time. As you move through your crowded office, you notice one of your coworkers's fingers twitch. | There he was. The guy in the nice suit with the shit-eating grin on his face. Called in from head office to settle our huge account like we didn't know what we were doing. It's been months. Several long months that he's been here. To everyone else he was the promised savior that would net us that giant cash cow of an investment and boost all our quarterly bonuses to at least an extra two zeroes on the tail end.
But to me, he was my schoolyard bully.
I had known this man forever. He's haunted me for years. Always boasted himself as the big man, pushing kids like me down to use as a stepping stone. Tripped me once during our high school football game costing us a big lead and losing our spot in the semifinals. I never heard the end of it. He turned it around for himself and went on the next year to be our MVP, a spot I had been working hard for.
And now here he is, come to gloat, as he once again takes the center stage. This time, it's my job he's gunning for, I'm sure of it.
I've been our boss's right hand man for years. She trusts me with everything. And I know it's me he's after, so he can flooze his way to the top, putting in no real work for the corporation whatsoever.
I promised myself I wouldn't ever use my power for personal gain, but this time, maybe I can make an exception.
Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick.
The last tock doesn't come.
As I quickly slip through the sea of statues, my vision narrows on my goal. His briefcase. Without his insider information, he's screwed at our presentation.
One.
I snatch the case and flick the lock open. Already unlocked. No need for security if he was sitting right next to it, but I don't think he anticipated going up against a timewalker.
Two.
The papers are in plain sight in the case. I slip them into my suit jacket and close the briefcase as if no one was there.
Three.
Scot free. I can't help but grin smugly. This rat bastard wouldn't know what hit him. I slide nonchalantly back into my seat and watch my victory unfold.
Four.
It's the perfect crime, he wouldn't know, no one could have seen, and he--
Five.
What was that?
The phones resume ringing. The crowd flows back into controlled chaos. The ruffle of papers pervade the air.
There's no way, was I just seeing things right now?
He's gone quiet. He's stopped talking to the people around him all of a sudden. It's gotta be a coincidence. But I had to be sure.
Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick.
His face held a somewhat serious demeanor. But something want right. He didn't seem frozen at all, not like the rest of the world, I'm their silent, suspended animation.
One.
He doesn't seem to be moving. I get up and check him up close, but there doesn't seem to be anything going on.
Two.
He seems eerily lifelike. I mean yes, he's alive, but it looks like he could move at any moment. But that would be impossible. Time is standing still.
Three.
I could have sworn I just saw him exhale.
Four.
Get a grip man. You're losing it.
Five.
I barely make it back to my seat as the printers hum back to life. Pens clicking, keyboards tapping away, the coffee machine dripping fresh.
I pick up my cigarettes and keys. I'm losing it.
I make my way down to the parking garage. I fumble in my pocket for my lighter.
Maybe I'm just nervous. I've never used my power for mischief like this before, and maybe guilt is just setting in too fast. I need to calm down, it's not like anyone will know.
Long drags of my cigarette calm my nerves. I extinguish the last of it and flick it into the nearby trash bin. I turn absentmindedly, expecting to hear the slight tap of the butt against the trash liner.
But it never comes.
A familiar face meets my eyes. That signature shit-eating grin.
I couldn't help but chuckle. I had a feeling.
"You don't look too surprised to see me."
I could barely hide my own shit-eating grin. "Please. You're a horrible actor. Couldn't even hold your breath for five seconds."
"It took you this long to use your time walk for a bit of fun. Hell, I've been using mine for all sorts of shit since fourth grade. It took everything in me not to laugh my ass off."
Explains how he's wormed his way through life, really.
"Now, my folder back, if you please?"
I've been found out, and by another timewalker no less. Still, I'm not about to give up my job without a fight. "I dunno," I muse to myself, "might just turn this in to the boss and keep my job. Or if you're man enough, you'll take it from me. What's it gonna be? No one's gonna believe you if you try to rat me out."
"I've never really liked that tone of yours. Not since day one. So I think I'll be taking those."
His shiny leather oxfords click as he drew closer.
Part of me was hoping for this. Today's the day I finally get even. I could barely contain myself. I advance toward him as well.
"Oho, you're approaching me?"
"I can't beat the shit out of you without getting closer." | I step up in front of him, crossing my arms. The time stop ends, causing him to jump when he sees me in front of him. Without giving him any warning, I grab onto his arm and drag him into one of the empty offices, closing and locking the door behind us.
"Explain yourself," I snap. "And don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. You are a shockingly amazing actor. If I didn't know any better-"
"Jamie, stop," he interrupts. "Okay, what are you talking about? How the hell did you jump through time and space to-"
"Connor, you're not fooling me. You know what I can do and I want to know why you know."
He laughs and takes my face in his hand. I try to smack him away but he won't move. With his other hand, he snaps his fingers, freezing the world in that moment. I look at him in shock. He releases me and opens the door, holding his arm for me to lead the way out,
"Walk with me, my child," he orders.
"Your child?" I scoff. "Connor, you're three years younger than me. Don't even try to treat me like a child."
Connor rolls his eyes and suddenly is enveloped in a warm yellow glow, blinding me temporarily. When the light fades away, Connor is suddenly a old man, buff as hell but dressed in almost nothing.
"My daughter, come with me," he repeats.
I look around the room, waiting for everyone to wake up and acknowledge that something is happening. Connor seems to notice my staring and smirks.
"My child, I control time. Time will not move until I want it to. Come with me."
I sigh and follow him as he leads me outside of the office. He brings me outside, showing me the whole world is frozen in time. He continues walking but I can't make myself follow him.
"Who are you? I finally ask. "You're clearly not Connor. Who are you really?"
"My name is Cronus. I am the God of Time," he explains. "You are my child, though my Dear Jamie, I am disappointed you haven't built your power to exceed five seconds."
I start to back away from the God standing in front of me. I had my pase where I wanted to learn about Greek Gods and I'm not messing with him. I turn to run but my body freezes in the action. He steps up in front of me, a twisted smirk on his face.
"Oh my child, there's no reason to fear me," he laughs, almost mocking me. "Now that I know you can't run away, let's talk about your power." | |
[WP] You were born with the ability to stop time, but only temporarily. You can stop time for as five seconds. One day, at 33 years old, you stop time. As you move through your crowded office, you notice one of your coworkers's fingers twitch. | It would make sense that someone would share my talents, how could the phenomenon of my powers be isolated to me alone? I didn't have a lot to go on that Chandler had the power to stop the world. He's something of an office bumpler, always mixing the wrong files and spilling coffee, and is something of a slob. None the less, he is a rather easy enough guy to get along with. I just need to know for sure.
I sat down at a corner table at a pub down the street from the office. It was a relatively common spot for the guys at work, ranting on about office politics and which secretary they'd rather sleep with. This was as a good irish pub tho, with good live music. I made sure to sit far away enough from the local band so I can make sure Chandler would hear me.
I noticed chandler walking into the pub, I greeted him with a wide smile and enthusiastic wave. As he made his way over i froze time in between his steps. Totally frozen, his right foot hovered off the floor. Time started again. I just need a little bit more, just to make sure.
"Hey man! Thanks for coming out."
"Sup budd!" Chandler responded happily. He's pretty much a kid, a year out of college. "How bout i get the first round?'
This was going easier then expected. Maybe I can just out right ask him if he can stop time, and pass it off as a drunk joke? Yes. That would work.
A few moments passed and the waitress brought 2 shots of rum to our table. First shot i've done in years, can't believe i forgot how much it burned.
"I was really surprised when you asked me for drinks, Tim." Chandler said, wiping the excess rum from his lips.
The band in the back of the bar started playing a song. A half decent version of When Im Up, I Can't Get Down.
"Well.." Shit. Small talk. My only weakness. "Well, i'm kind of an introvert. Usually keep to myself."
"That is fair. After all, who really has the time?"
What did he just say?
"Im sorry Chandler, I can't hear you over the band playing. Can you repeat that?"
"I just said who has the time? Like there's just not enough time in the day, y'know?" Chandler responded with a shrug.
The waitress came back around to our table with another 2 shots of rum.
"Yea. I get that feeling." I said picking up the shot. Down it went, still burned as bad as the first.
I listened to the music in the background. WHEN I'M UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
I'm just being paranoid. That's it. Chandler is just a kid.
The waitress returned to our table, much quicker then I anticipated. Dropped another 2 shots. Chandler quickly downed it. I'll save it for a few minutes later, pace myself.
"Need a break?" Chandler said with a laugh.
"We're not all 25, gotta learn to take your time!"
"I'm sure you know about taking time, eh?"
What the hell is going on here? Is he hitting on me?
I quickly took the shot. Get drunk, ask the question, go home. No need to ruminate any further.
The band in the background started again. WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
"Have you ever hear of something called Jojo, Tim?"
"Jojo? what is that a drink?"
"no, no, no. It's like a cartoon from japan. It's weird but its a lot of fun to watch."
"oh.. no, i don't watch a lot of cartoons these days."
WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
The waitress returns for another time and drops 2 shot glasses on the table.
"I think you'd like it. It's about these people with powers, and in like the third season theres this guy named Dio."
"Like Holy Diver, Dio?"
"Yes! EXACTLY like Holy Diver Dio! He was like the inspiration in a way, i guess. Anyway you'd like Dio.
"Why's that?" I said throwing the shot back.
"Because he can stop time, Tim."
WHAT. I spat out the rum.
WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
"oh, shit man, I'm sorry." I grabbed some napkins and wiped the spit off the table.
WHEN I'M UP I CANT'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
"Yea but there's another character I really like, he comes in later in the show."
Before i realized, I was back on my chair with 2 full shots on the table. Unused napkins on my side.
"I don't understand, Chandler."
WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
I need time to think this through. STOP TIME.
"As I was saying." Chandler interrupted, ruining the time stop.
WHAT?
"My favorite character is Diavolo."
WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
He... Stops my power? is that his schtick?
We stare at each other. Waiting for one of us to break the silence.
"Can you guess what Diavolo does, Tim?"
The waitress brings us our drinks. The band plays its same tune. WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, I CAN'T GET DOWN, CAN'T GET LEVEL.
Wait a second. There's supposed to be more to that song.
Once more, STOP TIME.
It works this time. i pick up my shot, get up and walk towards chandler. I empty my shot on his head, The liquid frozen in space and time. I sit back down. Tiem starts again.
The liquid drops down on Chandler. Dripping down on him.
Chandler sat soaked in rum. He looked at me for a few moments.
WHEN IM UP I CAN'T GET DOWN, GET MY FEET BACK ON THE GROUND.
I look down at the table, with a full shot sitting in front of me. I look at chandler, he's completely dry.
"I'm guessing this Diavolo character.... he has the ability to rewind time?"
"Hmmmm. It's more like erase time. And you can pause time for.. how long?" | I step up in front of him, crossing my arms. The time stop ends, causing him to jump when he sees me in front of him. Without giving him any warning, I grab onto his arm and drag him into one of the empty offices, closing and locking the door behind us.
"Explain yourself," I snap. "And don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. You are a shockingly amazing actor. If I didn't know any better-"
"Jamie, stop," he interrupts. "Okay, what are you talking about? How the hell did you jump through time and space to-"
"Connor, you're not fooling me. You know what I can do and I want to know why you know."
He laughs and takes my face in his hand. I try to smack him away but he won't move. With his other hand, he snaps his fingers, freezing the world in that moment. I look at him in shock. He releases me and opens the door, holding his arm for me to lead the way out,
"Walk with me, my child," he orders.
"Your child?" I scoff. "Connor, you're three years younger than me. Don't even try to treat me like a child."
Connor rolls his eyes and suddenly is enveloped in a warm yellow glow, blinding me temporarily. When the light fades away, Connor is suddenly a old man, buff as hell but dressed in almost nothing.
"My daughter, come with me," he repeats.
I look around the room, waiting for everyone to wake up and acknowledge that something is happening. Connor seems to notice my staring and smirks.
"My child, I control time. Time will not move until I want it to. Come with me."
I sigh and follow him as he leads me outside of the office. He brings me outside, showing me the whole world is frozen in time. He continues walking but I can't make myself follow him.
"Who are you? I finally ask. "You're clearly not Connor. Who are you really?"
"My name is Cronus. I am the God of Time," he explains. "You are my child, though my Dear Jamie, I am disappointed you haven't built your power to exceed five seconds."
I start to back away from the God standing in front of me. I had my pase where I wanted to learn about Greek Gods and I'm not messing with him. I turn to run but my body freezes in the action. He steps up in front of me, a twisted smirk on his face.
"Oh my child, there's no reason to fear me," he laughs, almost mocking me. "Now that I know you can't run away, let's talk about your power." | |
[WP] You were born with the ability to stop time, but only temporarily. You can stop time for as five seconds. One day, at 33 years old, you stop time. As you move through your crowded office, you notice one of your coworkers's fingers twitch. | That damn twitch was on my mind for the past few weeks. What did it mean? Shes never moved before, in fact nothing has. Ants, chickens, people, or the planes in the sky. Nothing moves. Ever.
I tried to replicate it over and over and over again. I would stand next to her desk, freeze time, and watch. Once, out of sheer frustration I slapped her. Nothing.
FUCK.
This HAS to mean something. But what is it? I went as far as to hide a camera in her office and I would randomly freeze time....only to realize that of course the camera froze with it.....FUCK. THE FRUSTRATION! Answers, I needed answers. Was this all a ruse, was this in my head, did she actually move. I needed to know.
Then. One night, sitting at the end of the bar where I normally sit every night trying to figure out what in the fuck I have done with my life, and drowning it with shot after shot. The trick is to freeze time, grab the shot, slam it, then put it back.....kinda stealing but it helped me forget all the horrible things I had done, 5 seconds at a time. 5 seconds, is enough time to do terrible things. Especially while deployed to the war in Afghanistan....
I was sitting at the end of the bar, in my seat. Freezing time to increase my level of intoxication when all of the sudden I hear a voice.
"Hey."
I look over, and it's her. My co-worker. She's moving.....
Then I notice it.
6 seconds.....
7 seconds.......
8...9..10.11.12........
"WHAT IS THIS?!" I yelled. What's happening?!"
"It's ok, you're one of us."
"One of who...?"
"Us....you know? The ones who can freeze time and manipulate it, it bends to us, it's, us. We are time...."
"I don't understand."
"Come with me, we've been looking for you. It's time you learn. 5 seconds is only the beginning...." | I step up in front of him, crossing my arms. The time stop ends, causing him to jump when he sees me in front of him. Without giving him any warning, I grab onto his arm and drag him into one of the empty offices, closing and locking the door behind us.
"Explain yourself," I snap. "And don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. You are a shockingly amazing actor. If I didn't know any better-"
"Jamie, stop," he interrupts. "Okay, what are you talking about? How the hell did you jump through time and space to-"
"Connor, you're not fooling me. You know what I can do and I want to know why you know."
He laughs and takes my face in his hand. I try to smack him away but he won't move. With his other hand, he snaps his fingers, freezing the world in that moment. I look at him in shock. He releases me and opens the door, holding his arm for me to lead the way out,
"Walk with me, my child," he orders.
"Your child?" I scoff. "Connor, you're three years younger than me. Don't even try to treat me like a child."
Connor rolls his eyes and suddenly is enveloped in a warm yellow glow, blinding me temporarily. When the light fades away, Connor is suddenly a old man, buff as hell but dressed in almost nothing.
"My daughter, come with me," he repeats.
I look around the room, waiting for everyone to wake up and acknowledge that something is happening. Connor seems to notice my staring and smirks.
"My child, I control time. Time will not move until I want it to. Come with me."
I sigh and follow him as he leads me outside of the office. He brings me outside, showing me the whole world is frozen in time. He continues walking but I can't make myself follow him.
"Who are you? I finally ask. "You're clearly not Connor. Who are you really?"
"My name is Cronus. I am the God of Time," he explains. "You are my child, though my Dear Jamie, I am disappointed you haven't built your power to exceed five seconds."
I start to back away from the God standing in front of me. I had my pase where I wanted to learn about Greek Gods and I'm not messing with him. I turn to run but my body freezes in the action. He steps up in front of me, a twisted smirk on his face.
"Oh my child, there's no reason to fear me," he laughs, almost mocking me. "Now that I know you can't run away, let's talk about your power." | |
[WP] You were born with the ability to stop time, but only temporarily. You can stop time for as five seconds. One day, at 33 years old, you stop time. As you move through your crowded office, you notice one of your coworkers's fingers twitch. | That damn twitch was on my mind for the past few weeks. What did it mean? Shes never moved before, in fact nothing has. Ants, chickens, people, or the planes in the sky. Nothing moves. Ever.
I tried to replicate it over and over and over again. I would stand next to her desk, freeze time, and watch. Once, out of sheer frustration I slapped her. Nothing.
FUCK.
This HAS to mean something. But what is it? I went as far as to hide a camera in her office and I would randomly freeze time....only to realize that of course the camera froze with it.....FUCK. THE FRUSTRATION! Answers, I needed answers. Was this all a ruse, was this in my head, did she actually move. I needed to know.
Then. One night, sitting at the end of the bar where I normally sit every night trying to figure out what in the fuck I have done with my life, and drowning it with shot after shot. The trick is to freeze time, grab the shot, slam it, then put it back.....kinda stealing but it helped me forget all the horrible things I had done, 5 seconds at a time. 5 seconds, is enough time to do terrible things. Especially while deployed to the war in Afghanistan....
I was sitting at the end of the bar, in my seat. Freezing time to increase my level of intoxication when all of the sudden I hear a voice.
"Hey."
I look over, and it's her. My co-worker. She's moving.....
Then I notice it.
6 seconds.....
7 seconds.......
8...9..10.11.12........
"WHAT IS THIS?!" I yelled. What's happening?!"
"It's ok, you're one of us."
"One of who...?"
"Us....you know? The ones who can freeze time and manipulate it, it bends to us, it's, us. We are time...."
"I don't understand."
"Come with me, we've been looking for you. It's time you learn. 5 seconds is only the beginning...." | **What would you do if you could stop time for a few seconds?**
I'm pretty sure a lot of people have thought about this question as something hypothetical in nature. This isn't the case for me.
It started when I was 7 years old.
I was riding my bike around the neighborhood when suddenly a dog came from around the corner, foaming at the mouth, chasing me for what felt like where hours until I feel off my bike.
In a panic I tried to get up as quickly as I could and turned around only to see the raging beast leaping in the air about to bite me.
Then it happened, just as I felt that my heart almost stopped so did the dog stop mid-air in its tracks.
In my disbelief I touched the beast and sure enough he didn't budge an inch. I circled around him and then suddenly he landed right where I stood just a few seconds ago.
The chase was on once more and once more right when I felt cornered it happened. The dog froze, only this time I didn't stick around.
It took me a few more occasions until I finally figured out that I had the power to stop time for 5 seconds.
So many times this power has saved me and allowed me to save others. Granted I have also used it for very mundane things.
I mean wouldn't you stop time if you could during a school exam? Or during sex?
What if you saw the cutest dog ever? Wouldn't you want to pet it for as long as you could?
Anyways I'm getting off-topic a bit.
Recently I've had to use my power more often as more and more people around me get into dangerous situations.
I started wondering if this was a consequence of my power. Did they get into those situations because I was around there? As if it was fated that someone with the power to stop time would be there to rescue them.
Then one day it happened.
I was at work when I overheard screams coming from the other side of the office.
Someone was falling from window when I used my power to hurry and see if I could try to soften their landing. I did my best to avoid being exposed so in situations like these I try to save people in a way that would seem somewhat plausible that they would survive.
My power grew in the recent years and I was able to activate it a few times in a row at the expense of my stamina, so I was able to slowly reduce the inertia from the falling man. He would still land with a broken leg and maybe an arm but he would survive.
I was at the ground level getting into position to catch him before activating my power one last time when I saw something from the corner of my eye.
It seemed impossible so I dismissed it to go finish the task of saving the man that was only a few seconds away from seriously injuring himself upon landing.
But after ensuring that the guy wouldn't hurt himself more than needed I turned around to see someone walking towards me.
It was a colleague of mine and she had a grin that went from ear to ear.
"I've finally found you! Yay!"
"Today is my lucky day!"
Time resumed for a split second and when I activated my power again she was staring right into my eyes.
"I knew someone from the office had powers like mine but I wasn't sure who it was."
"It took me a while to find you. You gave me a lot of work, I had to be more and more creative creating these acc-"
I couldn't hear what she said as time started moving normally again and her voice was drowned out by the screaming bystanders that saw a man hit the pavement.
Her face turned into one that was annoyed at the fact that we couldn't continue our conversation in private. I was too tired to activate my power again and she noticed that.
I blinked and suddenly it got quiet. Everyone around me... dead.
I felt as if someone had grabbed my pocket and so I pulled a note from it.
>I'm going home for now :)
>
>Today was the happiest day of my life.
>
>I was bored out of my mind having to deal with primitive people all the time.
>
>I've always wanted someone that could keep me entertained.
>
>See you around
That day I found out that some people should not be able to answer the question. | |
[WP] You were born with the ability to stop time, but only temporarily. You can stop time for as five seconds. One day, at 33 years old, you stop time. As you move through your crowded office, you notice one of your coworkers's fingers twitch. | That damn twitch was on my mind for the past few weeks. What did it mean? Shes never moved before, in fact nothing has. Ants, chickens, people, or the planes in the sky. Nothing moves. Ever.
I tried to replicate it over and over and over again. I would stand next to her desk, freeze time, and watch. Once, out of sheer frustration I slapped her. Nothing.
FUCK.
This HAS to mean something. But what is it? I went as far as to hide a camera in her office and I would randomly freeze time....only to realize that of course the camera froze with it.....FUCK. THE FRUSTRATION! Answers, I needed answers. Was this all a ruse, was this in my head, did she actually move. I needed to know.
Then. One night, sitting at the end of the bar where I normally sit every night trying to figure out what in the fuck I have done with my life, and drowning it with shot after shot. The trick is to freeze time, grab the shot, slam it, then put it back.....kinda stealing but it helped me forget all the horrible things I had done, 5 seconds at a time. 5 seconds, is enough time to do terrible things. Especially while deployed to the war in Afghanistan....
I was sitting at the end of the bar, in my seat. Freezing time to increase my level of intoxication when all of the sudden I hear a voice.
"Hey."
I look over, and it's her. My co-worker. She's moving.....
Then I notice it.
6 seconds.....
7 seconds.......
8...9..10.11.12........
"WHAT IS THIS?!" I yelled. What's happening?!"
"It's ok, you're one of us."
"One of who...?"
"Us....you know? The ones who can freeze time and manipulate it, it bends to us, it's, us. We are time...."
"I don't understand."
"Come with me, we've been looking for you. It's time you learn. 5 seconds is only the beginning...." | "Tod, you bastard, I can see your finger moving!"
"Aw, soz, had a bit too much coffee this morning."
Time suddenly shifts back to normal, people continue typing away at their computers, taking phone calls. Sally, the middle aged women seated in the next cubicle, is about half an hour into her daily online shopping.
"Tod," I begin as I move over to his desk, my voice hushed. "Why the fuck are you here, I'm just trying to live a normal life, I've left the war behind."
"Aw, come on mate, we need you, you're right handy in a tight spot."
Sally glances over at us, glaring. God forbid we interrupt the deep concentration required
to decide between strapped or laced sandals.
I kneel down, gaining a little privacy within the cubicle.
"Listen, you can't be here, you're going to make Jason sick if you stick around for much longer." I point at the body that Tod has possessed; Jason, the intern from accounting. "The poor kid has enough problems as it is."
"He'll be fine."
"He will not, he's turning purple already."
"Oh shit."
"Meet me in stalls." I say wearily.
Suddenly Tod disappears. Jason returns in an explosive breath, as if he's just come up for air. I leave him to his coughing fit and inevitable possession hang over.
Sally makes a little "ahem" noise, glaring directly at me this time.
"Oh fuck off Sally, why don't you go back to your Irish coffee. Yeh I can see the Jacks bottle between your legs, you're not fooling anyone"
She huffs, face going red, before turning back to her computer and beginning to type furiously. Probably another letter to HR.
I stop time, walk over and empty the Jacks in her lap before moving down the hall and into the bathrooms. As I close the door I resume time and hear screams coming from Sally's cubicle. Good luck explaining the smell.
A minute later an older man walks and gives me a wink.
"Come on mate," Tod's voice begins. "I know you want to come back, are you really happy in this shitty office? I've only been here a few minutes and I'm already depressed."
"It's better than risking my life for people who'll never know my name."
"Is the name so important?"
"No, the money is."
"Alright fair enough, how about we up your rate to 15%? Hmm? That sound better?"
"You're turning Herman purple, Tod."
"Oh shit," He says, disappearing from poor Herman, the elderly guy from policy. He begins retching, running to one of the stalls to empty his stomach. I sigh again, leaving the poor man and waiting outside. Jessie walks up to me a moment later, the young blonde from sales. She winks at me.
"A woman?" I ask.
She gives me a strange look. "Excuse me?" She asks.
"Oh, shit, sorry, look-"
"I'm just kidding mate, come on." She pulls me into the disabled toilets.
Once inside she grabs my face.
"Final offer mate, 18%, you get your own room and we give you weekends off. How about it?"
I stare into Jessie-Tods face for a moment, thinking about the end of year reports I'm supposed to finish before the end of the week. With a sigh I nod.
"Excellent mate! Excellent!"
"I'm going to regret this." I mumble to myself.
"Naw you won't, promise!"
I put out my hand. Tod taps it with his own, where a small tattoo spreads across my skin in the runic script of the fifth.
"Welcome back, mate, to the guild of the five second heroes!" | |
[WP] You were born with the ability to stop time, but only temporarily. You can stop time for as five seconds. One day, at 33 years old, you stop time. As you move through your crowded office, you notice one of your coworkers's fingers twitch. | I remember when my mother first noticed I wasn’t normal. I was eight. She was yelling at me (again) for not scrubbing the dishes to her liking. Something in me snapped. I’d tried very hard not to let anyone find out about what I could do, cause I was pretty sure nobody else could; or at least, I hadn’t met anyone who could.
I took my usual 3 slow breaths that typically calmed me down, but they weren’t enough this time. Five seconds may not be long, but they were long enough for me to throw the dish across the room and shatter just as the seconds were up.
I’ll never forget the terror in her eyes. Three hours later I was in my first foster home.
Now here I am, early thirties, single, no kids, a cat that hates me, and a job I hate more.
I groan internally as I hear the ding signaling the elevator doors are about to open. My nose is assaulted with the smell of bitter coffee and someone’s cheap perfume. God, I hate it here.
I begin to make my way to my cubicle. I see Rosie (that’s not her real name, I just call her that because she’s loud like Rosie O’Donnell) start toward me. The sense of panic and dread fill me, it’s too early for this shit! That woman never shuts up and I just want a quiet morning.
As I move to squeeze through a small crowd hovering by someone’s desk, I take a sharp breath in and relax into my five beautiful seconds of peace. Just three more quick steps and I’m in my “pod”. The cubicles are set up in pods as we call them of five cubicles in a bundle.
The loud tapping of keys on a keyboard, chatter, and rustling paper let me know my five seconds are up. After five more seconds I can freeze it again. I like to do that as I get to my desk. It helps relax me somehow, and also catch my breath a little so the guy next to me doesn’t hear me wheezing.
As I sit down I take in another sharp breath and relax into the silence. I begin to count:
One…
Two…
Three…
Fo- what was that?!
I jerk my head to the side and just before the noise comes crashing back in I see Cole – the guy who works at the desk next to mine – flash me a smirk. I knew it! I knew I saw his finger twitch.
I’m not sure how long these next moments were as I sat frozen staring at him. He just continued to smirk at me. How though? In all my 33 years I’ve never met or seen anyone who could do what I do, or at least not be affected by my time freezing.
Suddenly everything goes quiet again. But how? I didn’t do that.
He must notice the confusion spread across my face because his smirk turns into a beaming smile that touches his dark green eyes.
Before I can speak, he stands and exits the pod. I want to go after him but I’m still frozen in shock. I wait for the noise to return like usual, except this time, it doesn’t. | "Tod, you bastard, I can see your finger moving!"
"Aw, soz, had a bit too much coffee this morning."
Time suddenly shifts back to normal, people continue typing away at their computers, taking phone calls. Sally, the middle aged women seated in the next cubicle, is about half an hour into her daily online shopping.
"Tod," I begin as I move over to his desk, my voice hushed. "Why the fuck are you here, I'm just trying to live a normal life, I've left the war behind."
"Aw, come on mate, we need you, you're right handy in a tight spot."
Sally glances over at us, glaring. God forbid we interrupt the deep concentration required
to decide between strapped or laced sandals.
I kneel down, gaining a little privacy within the cubicle.
"Listen, you can't be here, you're going to make Jason sick if you stick around for much longer." I point at the body that Tod has possessed; Jason, the intern from accounting. "The poor kid has enough problems as it is."
"He'll be fine."
"He will not, he's turning purple already."
"Oh shit."
"Meet me in stalls." I say wearily.
Suddenly Tod disappears. Jason returns in an explosive breath, as if he's just come up for air. I leave him to his coughing fit and inevitable possession hang over.
Sally makes a little "ahem" noise, glaring directly at me this time.
"Oh fuck off Sally, why don't you go back to your Irish coffee. Yeh I can see the Jacks bottle between your legs, you're not fooling anyone"
She huffs, face going red, before turning back to her computer and beginning to type furiously. Probably another letter to HR.
I stop time, walk over and empty the Jacks in her lap before moving down the hall and into the bathrooms. As I close the door I resume time and hear screams coming from Sally's cubicle. Good luck explaining the smell.
A minute later an older man walks and gives me a wink.
"Come on mate," Tod's voice begins. "I know you want to come back, are you really happy in this shitty office? I've only been here a few minutes and I'm already depressed."
"It's better than risking my life for people who'll never know my name."
"Is the name so important?"
"No, the money is."
"Alright fair enough, how about we up your rate to 15%? Hmm? That sound better?"
"You're turning Herman purple, Tod."
"Oh shit," He says, disappearing from poor Herman, the elderly guy from policy. He begins retching, running to one of the stalls to empty his stomach. I sigh again, leaving the poor man and waiting outside. Jessie walks up to me a moment later, the young blonde from sales. She winks at me.
"A woman?" I ask.
She gives me a strange look. "Excuse me?" She asks.
"Oh, shit, sorry, look-"
"I'm just kidding mate, come on." She pulls me into the disabled toilets.
Once inside she grabs my face.
"Final offer mate, 18%, you get your own room and we give you weekends off. How about it?"
I stare into Jessie-Tods face for a moment, thinking about the end of year reports I'm supposed to finish before the end of the week. With a sigh I nod.
"Excellent mate! Excellent!"
"I'm going to regret this." I mumble to myself.
"Naw you won't, promise!"
I put out my hand. Tod taps it with his own, where a small tattoo spreads across my skin in the runic script of the fifth.
"Welcome back, mate, to the guild of the five second heroes!" | |
[WP] You were born with the ability to stop time, but only temporarily. You can stop time for as five seconds. One day, at 33 years old, you stop time. As you move through your crowded office, you notice one of your coworkers's fingers twitch. | I twitched, as I felt another one with similar power walking the streets along with me. One who was of his lineage... I had to kill him. His father had tried before, but I outwitted him, putting myself in his coffin for 100 years, living as a vampire at the bottom of the ocean. Now, I had to kill this one. Right here.
As I walked passed all the busy desks of office workers, I saw him notice me, and his aura flared up. One of us would be dead after this, and I knew, with my time-stopping power, that it wouldn't be me. After all, I was a GOD over this world.
Oh, he's approaching me? He can do it all he wants, but he should be running, since he knows the the power I hold over this world.
"I can beat your ass from right here." was the first thing I heard come from his mouth as we stood there, only feet apart.
"AGH-AGH-AGH-AGH-AGH-AGH-AGH-AAAAAAAAGH!" We yelled, as each of our attacking abilities activated, rapid punches connecting with the skin, as blood flew out.
Quickly, as I knew that this would be the final blow, I yelled "I CONTROL「THE WORLD」", as time stopped around me. I pulled out a knife, and threw it as his neck, when it stopped at the last second, and I muttered, "Bye, Joe Snow.".
But during the last second, I saw his finger twitch, something that should have been impossible during my timestop.
As time restarted, Joe Snow suddenly appeared behind me, and threw one last massive punch, combined with his attacking ability, Sun of Diamond, as he cracked my head off its spine.
But this wouldn't be the last time I met the Joe Snow family line, not at all. I may have been defeated, but it wasn't over yet. Not at all. I'd rise, and Snow would fall. That would be that, and 「THE WORLD 」WOULD BE MINE!! | "Tod, you bastard, I can see your finger moving!"
"Aw, soz, had a bit too much coffee this morning."
Time suddenly shifts back to normal, people continue typing away at their computers, taking phone calls. Sally, the middle aged women seated in the next cubicle, is about half an hour into her daily online shopping.
"Tod," I begin as I move over to his desk, my voice hushed. "Why the fuck are you here, I'm just trying to live a normal life, I've left the war behind."
"Aw, come on mate, we need you, you're right handy in a tight spot."
Sally glances over at us, glaring. God forbid we interrupt the deep concentration required
to decide between strapped or laced sandals.
I kneel down, gaining a little privacy within the cubicle.
"Listen, you can't be here, you're going to make Jason sick if you stick around for much longer." I point at the body that Tod has possessed; Jason, the intern from accounting. "The poor kid has enough problems as it is."
"He'll be fine."
"He will not, he's turning purple already."
"Oh shit."
"Meet me in stalls." I say wearily.
Suddenly Tod disappears. Jason returns in an explosive breath, as if he's just come up for air. I leave him to his coughing fit and inevitable possession hang over.
Sally makes a little "ahem" noise, glaring directly at me this time.
"Oh fuck off Sally, why don't you go back to your Irish coffee. Yeh I can see the Jacks bottle between your legs, you're not fooling anyone"
She huffs, face going red, before turning back to her computer and beginning to type furiously. Probably another letter to HR.
I stop time, walk over and empty the Jacks in her lap before moving down the hall and into the bathrooms. As I close the door I resume time and hear screams coming from Sally's cubicle. Good luck explaining the smell.
A minute later an older man walks and gives me a wink.
"Come on mate," Tod's voice begins. "I know you want to come back, are you really happy in this shitty office? I've only been here a few minutes and I'm already depressed."
"It's better than risking my life for people who'll never know my name."
"Is the name so important?"
"No, the money is."
"Alright fair enough, how about we up your rate to 15%? Hmm? That sound better?"
"You're turning Herman purple, Tod."
"Oh shit," He says, disappearing from poor Herman, the elderly guy from policy. He begins retching, running to one of the stalls to empty his stomach. I sigh again, leaving the poor man and waiting outside. Jessie walks up to me a moment later, the young blonde from sales. She winks at me.
"A woman?" I ask.
She gives me a strange look. "Excuse me?" She asks.
"Oh, shit, sorry, look-"
"I'm just kidding mate, come on." She pulls me into the disabled toilets.
Once inside she grabs my face.
"Final offer mate, 18%, you get your own room and we give you weekends off. How about it?"
I stare into Jessie-Tods face for a moment, thinking about the end of year reports I'm supposed to finish before the end of the week. With a sigh I nod.
"Excellent mate! Excellent!"
"I'm going to regret this." I mumble to myself.
"Naw you won't, promise!"
I put out my hand. Tod taps it with his own, where a small tattoo spreads across my skin in the runic script of the fifth.
"Welcome back, mate, to the guild of the five second heroes!" | |
[WP] You were born with the ability to stop time, but only temporarily. You can stop time for as five seconds. One day, at 33 years old, you stop time. As you move through your crowded office, you notice one of your coworkers's fingers twitch. | I twitched, as I felt another one with similar power walking the streets along with me. One who was of his lineage... I had to kill him. His father had tried before, but I outwitted him, putting myself in his coffin for 100 years, living as a vampire at the bottom of the ocean. Now, I had to kill this one. Right here.
As I walked passed all the busy desks of office workers, I saw him notice me, and his aura flared up. One of us would be dead after this, and I knew, with my time-stopping power, that it wouldn't be me. After all, I was a GOD over this world.
Oh, he's approaching me? He can do it all he wants, but he should be running, since he knows the the power I hold over this world.
"I can beat your ass from right here." was the first thing I heard come from his mouth as we stood there, only feet apart.
"AGH-AGH-AGH-AGH-AGH-AGH-AGH-AAAAAAAAGH!" We yelled, as each of our attacking abilities activated, rapid punches connecting with the skin, as blood flew out.
Quickly, as I knew that this would be the final blow, I yelled "I CONTROL「THE WORLD」", as time stopped around me. I pulled out a knife, and threw it as his neck, when it stopped at the last second, and I muttered, "Bye, Joe Snow.".
But during the last second, I saw his finger twitch, something that should have been impossible during my timestop.
As time restarted, Joe Snow suddenly appeared behind me, and threw one last massive punch, combined with his attacking ability, Sun of Diamond, as he cracked my head off its spine.
But this wouldn't be the last time I met the Joe Snow family line, not at all. I may have been defeated, but it wasn't over yet. Not at all. I'd rise, and Snow would fall. That would be that, and 「THE WORLD 」WOULD BE MINE!! | I remember when my mother first noticed I wasn’t normal. I was eight. She was yelling at me (again) for not scrubbing the dishes to her liking. Something in me snapped. I’d tried very hard not to let anyone find out about what I could do, cause I was pretty sure nobody else could; or at least, I hadn’t met anyone who could.
I took my usual 3 slow breaths that typically calmed me down, but they weren’t enough this time. Five seconds may not be long, but they were long enough for me to throw the dish across the room and shatter just as the seconds were up.
I’ll never forget the terror in her eyes. Three hours later I was in my first foster home.
Now here I am, early thirties, single, no kids, a cat that hates me, and a job I hate more.
I groan internally as I hear the ding signaling the elevator doors are about to open. My nose is assaulted with the smell of bitter coffee and someone’s cheap perfume. God, I hate it here.
I begin to make my way to my cubicle. I see Rosie (that’s not her real name, I just call her that because she’s loud like Rosie O’Donnell) start toward me. The sense of panic and dread fill me, it’s too early for this shit! That woman never shuts up and I just want a quiet morning.
As I move to squeeze through a small crowd hovering by someone’s desk, I take a sharp breath in and relax into my five beautiful seconds of peace. Just three more quick steps and I’m in my “pod”. The cubicles are set up in pods as we call them of five cubicles in a bundle.
The loud tapping of keys on a keyboard, chatter, and rustling paper let me know my five seconds are up. After five more seconds I can freeze it again. I like to do that as I get to my desk. It helps relax me somehow, and also catch my breath a little so the guy next to me doesn’t hear me wheezing.
As I sit down I take in another sharp breath and relax into the silence. I begin to count:
One…
Two…
Three…
Fo- what was that?!
I jerk my head to the side and just before the noise comes crashing back in I see Cole – the guy who works at the desk next to mine – flash me a smirk. I knew it! I knew I saw his finger twitch.
I’m not sure how long these next moments were as I sat frozen staring at him. He just continued to smirk at me. How though? In all my 33 years I’ve never met or seen anyone who could do what I do, or at least not be affected by my time freezing.
Suddenly everything goes quiet again. But how? I didn’t do that.
He must notice the confusion spread across my face because his smirk turns into a beaming smile that touches his dark green eyes.
Before I can speak, he stands and exits the pod. I want to go after him but I’m still frozen in shock. I wait for the noise to return like usual, except this time, it doesn’t. | |
[WP] You were born with the ability to stop time, but only temporarily. You can stop time for as five seconds. One day, at 33 years old, you stop time. As you move through your crowded office, you notice one of your coworkers's fingers twitch. | For years, I thought my talent was useless. What good were five seconds in the grand scheme of time?
Everything changed that day.
It was my birthday. I was turning 33, and yet I felt older, mostly because I *was* older. To my tally, I had halted everything 6,307,199 times—five seconds short of one year.
I walked into my small but crowded office, breezed past the collection of tables, and took a seat at my desk. Pulling up my email, I noticed I had a message: My coworkers were to throw me a birthday party.
I was not in the mood. I didn’t consider myself worthy of their praise because for the first time in my life, I felt like a liar. Among other things, I had used my ability countless times to alter a small event, steal a slice of pizza from a street vendor, or exit a party unseen. To me and for me, there were no consequences. Nobody would ever know, and nobody would ever care.
The first two hours of the day flew by, almost as if the paradoxical nature of my birthday was not lost on Father Time. I wasn’t able to accomplish anything that morning because seemingly before I could blink, it was time for the party.
We all stood in a clump near the back wall, where my coworkers had set up a birthday potluck: Quiches, cookies, fruit, vegetables, and all manner of other food options littered the tabletop.
One of my coworkers, Karen—of course it was Karen—suggested that we play a game. Starting with her, we went around the room identifying our mundane super powers.
“The stipulations are,” began Karen, “your power cannot have the express purpose of harming anyone, and it cannot pass a five on the power index.”
We all looked around, confused at the term “power index.” Still, we shrugged it off and played along. None of us wanted to work anyway. It was a welcome distraction for everybody.
Everybody except me.
The baton was passed several times until it came to me. “I would be able to freeze time, but only for five seconds at a time." My proclamation was met with a few laughs and a few excited outbursts.
"Ooh I like that!" said Karen, almost yelling
*Of course you like it, Karen.*
As the attention of the room passed from me, I noticed Frank at his desk with his eyes fixed on his computer. Frank and I had spoken a lot in the weeks leading up to my birthday. He was having marital troubles, almost always made worse when he said something he didn't mean.
Selfishly, I compared his difficulties with my own. As I looked across the space, I thought that perhaps he was the only other miserable person present.
I traversed the disorganized landscape of desks, computers, and unkempt paper stacks to speak with him. As I drew closer, I noticed a single tear fall from his left eye. He typed for a few seconds, then placed his hand on the mouse.
I needed to see.
I took a deep breath as I stopped time for the 6,307,200th time, officially making the day my double birthday. Once things fell into the all-too-familiar silence, I rushed to Frank's side to read the message.
*I don't think I can do this anymore*, it read. *You deserve better than me.*
In our talking, I had gotten to know Frank. I knew he loved his wife more than anything. If he was ending things, it truly was due to words in the second sentence.
"Oh no, Frank," I said, reaching my arms over his shoulders, "you don't want to do that." I quickly changed the message to read, *I know things are difficult, but I love you more than anything, and that will never change.*
As I finished typing, I thought I saw his finger twitch. Paying it no mind, I put some distance between us before time resumed. As the party got back into full swing, Frank's finger hit the send button.
Five minutes before 5:00, Frank approached my desk. "Hey," he said, "I just wanted to thank you for earlier. You were right, I didn't want to do that."
"What?" I said, dropping my pen and staring up at him. "What do you mean?"
"You leaned over me and changed my email," he clarified. "I really appreciate it." With a smile and a tip of his hat, Frank started toward the door.
I was confused. Had I not actually stopped time? Were my powers gone?
I paused things again. Everyone froze except for Frank. He continued out the door.
I couldn't help but grin. I felt as though somehow, I had given Frank the strength to carry on regardless of what was happening around him. For the first time, I had used my power for someone else, and it felt *incredible.* I vowed that going forward, I would help someone two times for every occasion I helped myself.
***One Year Later***
"Okay everybody," said Karen with a beaming smile, "we played last year and it was a blast, so let's do it again! You know the rules!"
"I'll go first!" I called out with a smile. "I would still choose the ability to freeze time for five seconds at a time."
"Why five seconds?" Bob wondered aloud from across the circle.
"Well," I said, placing a hand on Frank's shoulder beside me, "five seconds may not seem like much, but it's enough time to do a lot of things. You can prevent a single mistake, get a head start on something, and even save a life." I smiled. "You can help yourself and others in just five seconds."
\-----
Thank you for reading! As always, feedback is appreciated.
Check out my sub for more of my writing! r/storiesbyclayton |
# Moment of Pause
He glanced up when I walked by and looked startled.
His finger moved as well, that’s how I noticed. Five seconds is such a short time. There’s three-thousand six-hundred seconds in an hour. The effort to pause time was a monumental effort, akin to flexing every muscle in your gut at once. But I could do it and I thought that made me special. But here he moved too, in a sea of frozen individuals caught in main-line physics.
Time flowed once more but he already rose up to meet me.
“I was just taking a break,” he said. “I have the time to do it.”
The fact I was his supervisor may be making him ask questions. I had my own.
“How did you move around?” I asked.
He raised an eyebrow. Tried to make sense of the question as if he swirled a cherry on his tongue. Looking up in concentration.
“I have no idea what you mean,” he said.
He probably wouldn’t: I didn’t know until I was eight the specific movements to pause time. It may be innate in humanity, or maybe it’s only the both of us. But that idea of no longer sharing my paused time with others made me wonder: Did I pause it for others when I did the specific stretch? Is it only a world that we could access? What is this realm that we reached into, where everyone is a marbled statue and us merely the gallery observers? I never thought about it before, because it was merely paused time to me. But it seems something so much more, so much more profound, if I have to share it with another individual. Or individuals.
“What were you doing a few seconds before everyone else stopped moving?” I asked.
Again he looked at me. This time he hummed something to himself, as if that got the gears moving as he dived into the world of “deep” thought.
“I was only in here the whole time,” he said. “But I did some weird stretch if that’s what you’re asking. Are y’all playing some sort of game?”
I noticed the traffic of others walking in the hall avoiding me. I don’t blame them; the previous person in this position believed in the seagull approach: where one would fly in at the worst possible time, make as much noise as possible, and leave unhelpful droppings everywhere.
“Do that stretch again,” I said.
“Well,” he said, “it kind of hurt, though. Like my guts were being smooshed by my muscles. Why do it again?”
“I want to see it,” I said.
“Why?”
“Just do it,” I said.
So he did. The noise and the color fading happened.
Five seconds.
“Try typing something,” I said.
He turned to his computer.
Four seconds.
Clacking away he went. He threw his hands up in a moment.
Three seconds.
“What gives?” he said. “It’s frozen.”
Two seconds.
“It’s because you stopped time,” I said.
One second.
“The hell are you talking about sir?” he said.
Time flowed again.
“Ugh,” he said, “My guts hurt.”
“It happens when you stop time,” I said. “It’s a bit painful, but you can manage.”
“Do I want to,” he asked.
Linda hopped down the hallway, the young fawn of a worker she was. If only I had that energy again. I had all the time in the world to get it. Maybe I could actually convince him this time, I think.
“Do that stretch one more time. Look at everyone in the halls.”
“I need to get back to work,” he said. “I’m getting tired of all these painful stretches.”
“I’ll give you a raise,” I said.
“That’s stupid and you know it. But I won’t not take free money.”
He did the stretch. I can’t say what it is exactly, because I don’t wish for you to hurt and for other reasons.
The colors inverted around my eyes, then faded. The sound of a void erupted all around me, scratching my eardrums. Ticking of the world, which I believe was everything moving at once, ticked to a stop.
Five seconds.
“Now look at Linda!” I pointed down the hall to one of our coworkers.
Four seconds.
He looked.
“That looks impossible,” he said.
She was skipping and holding a stack of printing papers.
Three seconds.
“You paused time,” I said.
“No fucking way,” he said. He clapped his hands.
Two seconds.
“Is this why my computer freezes up sometimes?” he asked.
“Yep,” I said.
One second.
“Eh,” he says. “It’s boring now.”
Time flowed once more.
The paper that fell off the stack floated to the ground. The ticking sped up to an innumerable pace and the void noise reversed.
“And that explains why I hear that weird-ass noise sometimes!” he continued. “So how do I opt out?”
Now it was my turn to make funny faces at him.
“Opt out? I don’t know. I use it to get things done around here all the time.”
“Well,” he said, “Now you stretch.”
So I did the stretch and time paused.
“You see this?” he said. “What if I don’t want time paused? What if I’m driving and then time pauses? I don’t know why this hasn’t happened to me before, but it’d happen now. I can get hurt, someone else hurt, yadayada. I want out of time stopping.”
Time flowed again. My guts ached.
“And doing it hurts your guts, right?” He inquisitioned me with his tilted stare. “How often do you do it?”
“Rarely?” I said.
“You made me do it three times in a row. If *you* don’t even do it that often as I did, how would you think you’d feel?”
“Right,” I said.
“I hope whenever you find someone else that knows this, you don’t tell them the truth,” he said. “I’d rather just think there was something wrong with my computer, that I had some sort of epiphany, than having to freeze time.”
He smiled.
“Now about that raise…” | |
[WP] You were born with the ability to stop time, but only temporarily. You can stop time for as five seconds. One day, at 33 years old, you stop time. As you move through your crowded office, you notice one of your coworkers's fingers twitch. | It was nothing like I had expected. I thought it would be a sharp stinging pain, but instead it just felt sore. Almost as if I had been punched.
I cried out in pain. “WRYYYYYY!”
The old lady across the yard dropped the bow she was holding.
“Oh goodness! I am so sorry, I did not see you walking across the range!” She said, her eyes wide with shock as she hobbled towards me.
Through the tears I laughed, and nearly waved my arm until I remembered there was an arrow embedded three inches into it. “It’s ok, it was partly my fault too. I shouldn’t have been walking across the range in the first place ma’am.”
“No no no no! This won’t do at all! I can’t believe I’ve done this!” The old lady continued to wail.
Luckily, the paramedics arrived before I got sick of reassuring the old lady that I was fine. Despite arrow injuries not being very common, they were able to take me to the hospital where I was discharged within a day. Sounds fairly normal right? Yeah, that’s because it gets interesting from here.
On my way home I walked through the bustling market in the city of Cairo, taking in the lights and smells that I could never get sick of. So much so that I began feeling peckish, as Hospital food was not exactly delectable. I passed by a bread store and saw the most delicious looking bread I had ever seen. It made me think about how many breads I had eaten in my life and what could possibly top them all. Walking towards the store, I reached into my pocket only for my heart to sink. I didn’t have my wallet on me. I looked at the bread again, and saw it’s soft fluffy insides and crispy outside.
*If only I could stop time. I could just take that piece of bread without anyone noticing.* I thought
The bustling noise was the first thing I noticed. I had walked through this market many, many times and not once had it been silent. I took my eyes away from the bread and stood up straighter. None of the people were moving. A butterfly was frozen in midair. And the bread store owners eyes... lifeless and unfocused. As a man who doesn’t question things because there’s no point in doing so, I took the bread from the table. Someone, or something had given me this chance so I would not waste it. Time had, well, time had stopped. Around me. Just me. What was I? God?
From that day on, I continued to experiment with this newfound ability. Despite having an amazing power, I could only stop time for five seconds. No matter how much I used my power, five seconds was always the limit. Life got boring. It was amazing at first, but it had become a usual part of life. I would only use it for petty things, like stealing or saving time. I mean, what could you do with only five seconds? That is, until, that one fateful day.
I arrived at work on time, and sat down at my desk. I saw that my coworker had brought in his Dalmatian. Annoying dog it was, always letting it’s tongue hang out of it’s mouth as it ran around the office. I sighed and paused time, slowly rising from my chair.
*How should I kill it?* I thought *Maybe burn it? That would be nice.*
Chills went down my entire body as all the hairs on my body stood up. “Tha- that’s not possible” I stammered.
My coworker’s finger had twitched. It was only for a second, but I saw it. I know I saw it twitch. Time began to move again.
My coworker turned to face me, his gold chain jangling against his coat. “I see that your power is the same type as mine.”
My eyes narrowed. “I don’t care about whether or not you have my power, but I won’t let you stop me from burning that dog.”
My coworker began to walk towards me.
“Oh? You’re approaching me?” I asked. “Instead of running away, you’re coming right to me?”
“I can’t beat the shit out of you without getting closer.” He replied.
“OH HOOO! Then come as close as you like.”
——
You guys have probably noticed that I am not a writer, and you’re right. I have literally never written a story before apart from in high school English, I just wanted to have some fun and make a jojo reference. I hope you guys enjoyed! |
# Moment of Pause
He glanced up when I walked by and looked startled.
His finger moved as well, that’s how I noticed. Five seconds is such a short time. There’s three-thousand six-hundred seconds in an hour. The effort to pause time was a monumental effort, akin to flexing every muscle in your gut at once. But I could do it and I thought that made me special. But here he moved too, in a sea of frozen individuals caught in main-line physics.
Time flowed once more but he already rose up to meet me.
“I was just taking a break,” he said. “I have the time to do it.”
The fact I was his supervisor may be making him ask questions. I had my own.
“How did you move around?” I asked.
He raised an eyebrow. Tried to make sense of the question as if he swirled a cherry on his tongue. Looking up in concentration.
“I have no idea what you mean,” he said.
He probably wouldn’t: I didn’t know until I was eight the specific movements to pause time. It may be innate in humanity, or maybe it’s only the both of us. But that idea of no longer sharing my paused time with others made me wonder: Did I pause it for others when I did the specific stretch? Is it only a world that we could access? What is this realm that we reached into, where everyone is a marbled statue and us merely the gallery observers? I never thought about it before, because it was merely paused time to me. But it seems something so much more, so much more profound, if I have to share it with another individual. Or individuals.
“What were you doing a few seconds before everyone else stopped moving?” I asked.
Again he looked at me. This time he hummed something to himself, as if that got the gears moving as he dived into the world of “deep” thought.
“I was only in here the whole time,” he said. “But I did some weird stretch if that’s what you’re asking. Are y’all playing some sort of game?”
I noticed the traffic of others walking in the hall avoiding me. I don’t blame them; the previous person in this position believed in the seagull approach: where one would fly in at the worst possible time, make as much noise as possible, and leave unhelpful droppings everywhere.
“Do that stretch again,” I said.
“Well,” he said, “it kind of hurt, though. Like my guts were being smooshed by my muscles. Why do it again?”
“I want to see it,” I said.
“Why?”
“Just do it,” I said.
So he did. The noise and the color fading happened.
Five seconds.
“Try typing something,” I said.
He turned to his computer.
Four seconds.
Clacking away he went. He threw his hands up in a moment.
Three seconds.
“What gives?” he said. “It’s frozen.”
Two seconds.
“It’s because you stopped time,” I said.
One second.
“The hell are you talking about sir?” he said.
Time flowed again.
“Ugh,” he said, “My guts hurt.”
“It happens when you stop time,” I said. “It’s a bit painful, but you can manage.”
“Do I want to,” he asked.
Linda hopped down the hallway, the young fawn of a worker she was. If only I had that energy again. I had all the time in the world to get it. Maybe I could actually convince him this time, I think.
“Do that stretch one more time. Look at everyone in the halls.”
“I need to get back to work,” he said. “I’m getting tired of all these painful stretches.”
“I’ll give you a raise,” I said.
“That’s stupid and you know it. But I won’t not take free money.”
He did the stretch. I can’t say what it is exactly, because I don’t wish for you to hurt and for other reasons.
The colors inverted around my eyes, then faded. The sound of a void erupted all around me, scratching my eardrums. Ticking of the world, which I believe was everything moving at once, ticked to a stop.
Five seconds.
“Now look at Linda!” I pointed down the hall to one of our coworkers.
Four seconds.
He looked.
“That looks impossible,” he said.
She was skipping and holding a stack of printing papers.
Three seconds.
“You paused time,” I said.
“No fucking way,” he said. He clapped his hands.
Two seconds.
“Is this why my computer freezes up sometimes?” he asked.
“Yep,” I said.
One second.
“Eh,” he says. “It’s boring now.”
Time flowed once more.
The paper that fell off the stack floated to the ground. The ticking sped up to an innumerable pace and the void noise reversed.
“And that explains why I hear that weird-ass noise sometimes!” he continued. “So how do I opt out?”
Now it was my turn to make funny faces at him.
“Opt out? I don’t know. I use it to get things done around here all the time.”
“Well,” he said, “Now you stretch.”
So I did the stretch and time paused.
“You see this?” he said. “What if I don’t want time paused? What if I’m driving and then time pauses? I don’t know why this hasn’t happened to me before, but it’d happen now. I can get hurt, someone else hurt, yadayada. I want out of time stopping.”
Time flowed again. My guts ached.
“And doing it hurts your guts, right?” He inquisitioned me with his tilted stare. “How often do you do it?”
“Rarely?” I said.
“You made me do it three times in a row. If *you* don’t even do it that often as I did, how would you think you’d feel?”
“Right,” I said.
“I hope whenever you find someone else that knows this, you don’t tell them the truth,” he said. “I’d rather just think there was something wrong with my computer, that I had some sort of epiphany, than having to freeze time.”
He smiled.
“Now about that raise…” | |
[WP] You were born with the ability to stop time, but only temporarily. You can stop time for as five seconds. One day, at 33 years old, you stop time. As you move through your crowded office, you notice one of your coworkers's fingers twitch. | It was nothing like I had expected. I thought it would be a sharp stinging pain, but instead it just felt sore. Almost as if I had been punched.
I cried out in pain. “WRYYYYYY!”
The old lady across the yard dropped the bow she was holding.
“Oh goodness! I am so sorry, I did not see you walking across the range!” She said, her eyes wide with shock as she hobbled towards me.
Through the tears I laughed, and nearly waved my arm until I remembered there was an arrow embedded three inches into it. “It’s ok, it was partly my fault too. I shouldn’t have been walking across the range in the first place ma’am.”
“No no no no! This won’t do at all! I can’t believe I’ve done this!” The old lady continued to wail.
Luckily, the paramedics arrived before I got sick of reassuring the old lady that I was fine. Despite arrow injuries not being very common, they were able to take me to the hospital where I was discharged within a day. Sounds fairly normal right? Yeah, that’s because it gets interesting from here.
On my way home I walked through the bustling market in the city of Cairo, taking in the lights and smells that I could never get sick of. So much so that I began feeling peckish, as Hospital food was not exactly delectable. I passed by a bread store and saw the most delicious looking bread I had ever seen. It made me think about how many breads I had eaten in my life and what could possibly top them all. Walking towards the store, I reached into my pocket only for my heart to sink. I didn’t have my wallet on me. I looked at the bread again, and saw it’s soft fluffy insides and crispy outside.
*If only I could stop time. I could just take that piece of bread without anyone noticing.* I thought
The bustling noise was the first thing I noticed. I had walked through this market many, many times and not once had it been silent. I took my eyes away from the bread and stood up straighter. None of the people were moving. A butterfly was frozen in midair. And the bread store owners eyes... lifeless and unfocused. As a man who doesn’t question things because there’s no point in doing so, I took the bread from the table. Someone, or something had given me this chance so I would not waste it. Time had, well, time had stopped. Around me. Just me. What was I? God?
From that day on, I continued to experiment with this newfound ability. Despite having an amazing power, I could only stop time for five seconds. No matter how much I used my power, five seconds was always the limit. Life got boring. It was amazing at first, but it had become a usual part of life. I would only use it for petty things, like stealing or saving time. I mean, what could you do with only five seconds? That is, until, that one fateful day.
I arrived at work on time, and sat down at my desk. I saw that my coworker had brought in his Dalmatian. Annoying dog it was, always letting it’s tongue hang out of it’s mouth as it ran around the office. I sighed and paused time, slowly rising from my chair.
*How should I kill it?* I thought *Maybe burn it? That would be nice.*
Chills went down my entire body as all the hairs on my body stood up. “Tha- that’s not possible” I stammered.
My coworker’s finger had twitched. It was only for a second, but I saw it. I know I saw it twitch. Time began to move again.
My coworker turned to face me, his gold chain jangling against his coat. “I see that your power is the same type as mine.”
My eyes narrowed. “I don’t care about whether or not you have my power, but I won’t let you stop me from burning that dog.”
My coworker began to walk towards me.
“Oh? You’re approaching me?” I asked. “Instead of running away, you’re coming right to me?”
“I can’t beat the shit out of you without getting closer.” He replied.
“OH HOOO! Then come as close as you like.”
——
You guys have probably noticed that I am not a writer, and you’re right. I have literally never written a story before apart from in high school English, I just wanted to have some fun and make a jojo reference. I hope you guys enjoyed! | For years, I thought my talent was useless. What good were five seconds in the grand scheme of time?
Everything changed that day.
It was my birthday. I was turning 33, and yet I felt older, mostly because I *was* older. To my tally, I had halted everything 6,307,199 times—five seconds short of one year.
I walked into my small but crowded office, breezed past the collection of tables, and took a seat at my desk. Pulling up my email, I noticed I had a message: My coworkers were to throw me a birthday party.
I was not in the mood. I didn’t consider myself worthy of their praise because for the first time in my life, I felt like a liar. Among other things, I had used my ability countless times to alter a small event, steal a slice of pizza from a street vendor, or exit a party unseen. To me and for me, there were no consequences. Nobody would ever know, and nobody would ever care.
The first two hours of the day flew by, almost as if the paradoxical nature of my birthday was not lost on Father Time. I wasn’t able to accomplish anything that morning because seemingly before I could blink, it was time for the party.
We all stood in a clump near the back wall, where my coworkers had set up a birthday potluck: Quiches, cookies, fruit, vegetables, and all manner of other food options littered the tabletop.
One of my coworkers, Karen—of course it was Karen—suggested that we play a game. Starting with her, we went around the room identifying our mundane super powers.
“The stipulations are,” began Karen, “your power cannot have the express purpose of harming anyone, and it cannot pass a five on the power index.”
We all looked around, confused at the term “power index.” Still, we shrugged it off and played along. None of us wanted to work anyway. It was a welcome distraction for everybody.
Everybody except me.
The baton was passed several times until it came to me. “I would be able to freeze time, but only for five seconds at a time." My proclamation was met with a few laughs and a few excited outbursts.
"Ooh I like that!" said Karen, almost yelling
*Of course you like it, Karen.*
As the attention of the room passed from me, I noticed Frank at his desk with his eyes fixed on his computer. Frank and I had spoken a lot in the weeks leading up to my birthday. He was having marital troubles, almost always made worse when he said something he didn't mean.
Selfishly, I compared his difficulties with my own. As I looked across the space, I thought that perhaps he was the only other miserable person present.
I traversed the disorganized landscape of desks, computers, and unkempt paper stacks to speak with him. As I drew closer, I noticed a single tear fall from his left eye. He typed for a few seconds, then placed his hand on the mouse.
I needed to see.
I took a deep breath as I stopped time for the 6,307,200th time, officially making the day my double birthday. Once things fell into the all-too-familiar silence, I rushed to Frank's side to read the message.
*I don't think I can do this anymore*, it read. *You deserve better than me.*
In our talking, I had gotten to know Frank. I knew he loved his wife more than anything. If he was ending things, it truly was due to words in the second sentence.
"Oh no, Frank," I said, reaching my arms over his shoulders, "you don't want to do that." I quickly changed the message to read, *I know things are difficult, but I love you more than anything, and that will never change.*
As I finished typing, I thought I saw his finger twitch. Paying it no mind, I put some distance between us before time resumed. As the party got back into full swing, Frank's finger hit the send button.
Five minutes before 5:00, Frank approached my desk. "Hey," he said, "I just wanted to thank you for earlier. You were right, I didn't want to do that."
"What?" I said, dropping my pen and staring up at him. "What do you mean?"
"You leaned over me and changed my email," he clarified. "I really appreciate it." With a smile and a tip of his hat, Frank started toward the door.
I was confused. Had I not actually stopped time? Were my powers gone?
I paused things again. Everyone froze except for Frank. He continued out the door.
I couldn't help but grin. I felt as though somehow, I had given Frank the strength to carry on regardless of what was happening around him. For the first time, I had used my power for someone else, and it felt *incredible.* I vowed that going forward, I would help someone two times for every occasion I helped myself.
***One Year Later***
"Okay everybody," said Karen with a beaming smile, "we played last year and it was a blast, so let's do it again! You know the rules!"
"I'll go first!" I called out with a smile. "I would still choose the ability to freeze time for five seconds at a time."
"Why five seconds?" Bob wondered aloud from across the circle.
"Well," I said, placing a hand on Frank's shoulder beside me, "five seconds may not seem like much, but it's enough time to do a lot of things. You can prevent a single mistake, get a head start on something, and even save a life." I smiled. "You can help yourself and others in just five seconds."
\-----
Thank you for reading! As always, feedback is appreciated.
Check out my sub for more of my writing! r/storiesbyclayton | |
[WP] You were born with the ability to stop time, but only temporarily. You can stop time for as five seconds. One day, at 33 years old, you stop time. As you move through your crowded office, you notice one of your coworkers's fingers twitch. | The man sighed. Every day was the same. The same old boring bureaucracy tying hin down. But that *was* what he signed up for when he took up law. Well, he didnt get a chance initially because... he stopped for a second, then proceeded to open the door to his workplace. These memories had long since gone from painful to nostalgic.
"Ah, Mister Blight!" , a voice from inside greeted him. He frowned but swifly hid it with a only somewhat forced smile.
"Janet."
"Pulling another night shift, huh?" Her voice came from behind a large Pile of Documents and Magazines laying in her desk. He slowly stalked around it until he could see her red-haired head peeking at him from behind the pile.
"Yes. You know I'm not a morning Person, and I have other work to do as well."
" Well thats great! The new guy said he wanted to do overtime today so maybe you could keep him company? He seems pretty rude but I'm sure he doesnt mean it. Oh and about the coffe ma-"
Her rambling was cut short when he closed the door on her, making his way into his office. A young man in a blue suit was waiting there for him, showing the man his back.
"Ho? Another night owl?"
"Yes, Mr. Blight."
The Strangers voice sounded unnatural, almost as if he was faking it. The man wasnt sure. He walked over to his desk and turned to his coworker. He squinted. Kusa Ozaki. Japanese. Joined the company a week ago. Never met him before because he was always working at night. Time to get a closer look. He stopped time and circled around him to get a good look at his face.
He stopped.
Memories flashed in his mind.
The stranger's fingers twitched.
"JOTARO!"
"DIO!" | Five seconds, many would question how much of an advantage
that was in life. How much could occur over five seconds? No one was going to
steal a tv or rob a bank in such a short period, so what use did it have?
It was a stupid train of thought many fell victim to. Often
I would ask my friends and relatives what they would do if they shared a power
similar to mine, posing the question to them in the form of a hypothetical.
Most would just give a halfhearted shrug, wondering why I was only offering
such a small amount of time if it was a hypothetical. Why not ask them what
they would do if they could just stop time? Why give such a limitation to the
ability?
I could never tell them the truth, I couldn’t just admit
that I could stop time. If I ever admitted something like that I could end up
in serious trouble. So I would disguise it as small talk, dismissing their
accusing gazes by telling them it was merely a conversation starter. Most of
the time they would just sigh and tell me to work on my social skills.
People just seemed to dismiss what they could achieve in the
small space of time. Take yesterday, for instance. Stuck at the grocery store,
I noticed one box of peppermint chocolate left, its delicate red bowed box
calling for me. With a stride, I went to claim the treat only for an ogre of a
man to shove me aside, his shorts riding uncomfortably high as if they were
trying to dig through his body. A disgusting sight that should be outlawed. As
rude as it was, the act only deserved a silent middle finger, at least until I
noticed where he was heading.
“My peppermint.”
Things had gotten serious, my strides matching his own,
pushing to his side before time suddenly stopped, swiping the treats from him,
hiding them under my trolley. When time returned, the man reached forward
grabbing at air. Clutching at the empty space before turning to me. I only
offered him a shrug of empathy before taking my cart to the checkout. Devious
minor incidents like that were the best. They weren’t very practical though,
not like my uses at work.
“Mr James are you going to enter the workplace?”
The security guard stared at me, my hand pressed against the
door, not making any action to open it. Waking up from my daydreaming mind, I
shoved the door to my work open, giving him a friendly sorry nod. A sigh
escaped my lips as I stared at the bleak, sterile interior. Luckily, my
thirty-three years on this planet had helped me learn a few tricks to get
through the day. I had to time my stops perfectly. The ability seemed to take
ten minutes to recharge, so patience helped. Heading up to my office, I clicked
my fingers as I approached the shutting elevator door, sneaking myself inside.
Why did Ben always push the close door button when he saw me? It always hurt
seeing his hand against the button every morning. Perhaps he was still angry
about me eating that piece of birthday cake he kept in the fridge under his
desk?
Not that I cared what Ben thought. I had more important
things to worry about. His feelings were not one of them. As the doors peeled
open to expose the busy office, I went to the small kitchen to the left, not about
to navigate through the crowd of people until my ability was back. So I wasted
ten minutes making a coffee, asking my colleagues what they would do if they
could freeze time for five seconds. That never kept the conversation going,
having to watch them give me an eye roll before walking off to make themselves
look busy with another task. When my ten minutes were up, I took my steaming
mug towards the middle, approaching the crowd of workers, I stopped time.
Now all I had to do was push my way through their bodies.
And what the hell is that? I stopped, feeling something rubbing against my
back, only to see a colleague’s finger twitching against my back. I panicked,
spilling my coffee onto the floor as time returned. Everyone eyeing me with
disapproving gazes. How could he move? I should have frozen him. The man knelt
down to help me up, only for me to wave his hand away.
“What are you?” I shrieked, earning more uncomfortable
stares from my coworkers.
“I’m Jeff from accounting. You ok buddy? Maybe go make
another coffee. You are acting strange.”
“Me? You are the one that could move.”
I had to shut myself up. Keeping my empty mug between my
fingers, I gave Jeff a glare, watching him wink at me as I wandered to my desk,
leaving my coffee stain for the janitor to clean. I will find out who you
really are, Jeff from accounting. No one makes a fool of me.
 
 
 
(If you enjoyed this feel free to check out my subreddit /r/Sadnesslaughs where I'll be posting more of my writing.) | |
[WP] You were born with the ability to stop time, but only temporarily. You can stop time for as five seconds. One day, at 33 years old, you stop time. As you move through your crowded office, you notice one of your coworkers's fingers twitch. | Five seconds.
That was all I had. A superpower I'd had since birth, so close to useless that sometimes I forgot I even had it.
Five seconds.
One breath. A fleeting thought. A moment stretching just a little longer than the others.
It wasn't enough time to wander the office. It wasn't enough time to take a poop in peace. But in those moments when a surprise caught me gawking like a deer before oncoming headlights, those five seconds stretched into an eternity.
Moments like this one.
The two of them sat across from me. Bill--my boss--and the HR representative. My heart pounded: ten, twenty times in those five measly seconds my superpower gave me.
It didn't help. Five seconds wasn't enough time to change anything. I couldn't delete the emails or hide the information that had been leaked. I wouldn't even know where to find it. I'd been framed and I couldn't understand why.
I was on good terms with people. Sure, sometimes I paused time if they were getting on my nerves. Five seconds could be enough time to slip away. But it was never harmful, and I didn't mind any of them all that much.
I'd told that to Bill.
"I've been framed. I swear. I wouldn't do anything to hurt the company. I like it here."
Bill had laughed. It was all there. All the evidence they needed.
"Hank from security will be up momentarily," Bill said. The useless HR rep nodded to confirm. She hadn't said a word.
Five seconds.
Useless, but when people feel useless they do all they can do. They hoard toilet paper. They cry. They freeze time.
The HR rep froze. Her eyes fogged over.
Bill's didn't. He still looked straight at me, still as a statue. Almost. His finger twitched. His lips curled up ever so slightly. My heart slowed to a crawl, the breath crammed in my throat like I'd been frozen myself.
"Good luck out there," he said, standing to shake my hand.
His touch lingered. Seconds. Minutes. Hours.
And then Hank was there. It could have been days. I spurred my thoughts onward, did everything in my power to make things go back to normal. But the clock didn't tick. I walked at a crawl, slurred my words. Seconds passed like hours.
I tried to freeze time, to regain control. Bill clicked his tongue. Once, twice, three times in a second. I couldn't even move my tongue that fast.
His grin never left his face.
*****
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out more stories at r/MatiWrites. Constructive criticism and advice are always appreciated! | Five seconds, many would question how much of an advantage
that was in life. How much could occur over five seconds? No one was going to
steal a tv or rob a bank in such a short period, so what use did it have?
It was a stupid train of thought many fell victim to. Often
I would ask my friends and relatives what they would do if they shared a power
similar to mine, posing the question to them in the form of a hypothetical.
Most would just give a halfhearted shrug, wondering why I was only offering
such a small amount of time if it was a hypothetical. Why not ask them what
they would do if they could just stop time? Why give such a limitation to the
ability?
I could never tell them the truth, I couldn’t just admit
that I could stop time. If I ever admitted something like that I could end up
in serious trouble. So I would disguise it as small talk, dismissing their
accusing gazes by telling them it was merely a conversation starter. Most of
the time they would just sigh and tell me to work on my social skills.
People just seemed to dismiss what they could achieve in the
small space of time. Take yesterday, for instance. Stuck at the grocery store,
I noticed one box of peppermint chocolate left, its delicate red bowed box
calling for me. With a stride, I went to claim the treat only for an ogre of a
man to shove me aside, his shorts riding uncomfortably high as if they were
trying to dig through his body. A disgusting sight that should be outlawed. As
rude as it was, the act only deserved a silent middle finger, at least until I
noticed where he was heading.
“My peppermint.”
Things had gotten serious, my strides matching his own,
pushing to his side before time suddenly stopped, swiping the treats from him,
hiding them under my trolley. When time returned, the man reached forward
grabbing at air. Clutching at the empty space before turning to me. I only
offered him a shrug of empathy before taking my cart to the checkout. Devious
minor incidents like that were the best. They weren’t very practical though,
not like my uses at work.
“Mr James are you going to enter the workplace?”
The security guard stared at me, my hand pressed against the
door, not making any action to open it. Waking up from my daydreaming mind, I
shoved the door to my work open, giving him a friendly sorry nod. A sigh
escaped my lips as I stared at the bleak, sterile interior. Luckily, my
thirty-three years on this planet had helped me learn a few tricks to get
through the day. I had to time my stops perfectly. The ability seemed to take
ten minutes to recharge, so patience helped. Heading up to my office, I clicked
my fingers as I approached the shutting elevator door, sneaking myself inside.
Why did Ben always push the close door button when he saw me? It always hurt
seeing his hand against the button every morning. Perhaps he was still angry
about me eating that piece of birthday cake he kept in the fridge under his
desk?
Not that I cared what Ben thought. I had more important
things to worry about. His feelings were not one of them. As the doors peeled
open to expose the busy office, I went to the small kitchen to the left, not about
to navigate through the crowd of people until my ability was back. So I wasted
ten minutes making a coffee, asking my colleagues what they would do if they
could freeze time for five seconds. That never kept the conversation going,
having to watch them give me an eye roll before walking off to make themselves
look busy with another task. When my ten minutes were up, I took my steaming
mug towards the middle, approaching the crowd of workers, I stopped time.
Now all I had to do was push my way through their bodies.
And what the hell is that? I stopped, feeling something rubbing against my
back, only to see a colleague’s finger twitching against my back. I panicked,
spilling my coffee onto the floor as time returned. Everyone eyeing me with
disapproving gazes. How could he move? I should have frozen him. The man knelt
down to help me up, only for me to wave his hand away.
“What are you?” I shrieked, earning more uncomfortable
stares from my coworkers.
“I’m Jeff from accounting. You ok buddy? Maybe go make
another coffee. You are acting strange.”
“Me? You are the one that could move.”
I had to shut myself up. Keeping my empty mug between my
fingers, I gave Jeff a glare, watching him wink at me as I wandered to my desk,
leaving my coffee stain for the janitor to clean. I will find out who you
really are, Jeff from accounting. No one makes a fool of me.
 
 
 
(If you enjoyed this feel free to check out my subreddit /r/Sadnesslaughs where I'll be posting more of my writing.) | |
[WP] You prayed every night for the chance to date either a Goddess or Demon Queen. After 100 prayers, you're startled when a loud voice booms out, "Granted, mortal! Now shut up and live with the consequences! " | Back then, I just wanted sex. Screw relationships, I had been through 2 bad heartbreaks and I was just done with all this relationship stuff.
See, the thing is, I didn't want sex with just *anyone*, you know?
It was 2:55 AM, and my roommate was asleep in his bedroom. I've been doing this for the past 100 days, writing letters to the Demon Queen. Originally, my letters started out tame. I thought maybe I could go on a date with the Demon Queen, and get to know her a little. But, as the days went on, the more lustful I grew. I wanted it, and I needed it, NOW. Desperation has no limits.
Anxious, with the blood-stained letter in hand, I nervously watched the clock.
2:58... 2:59...
Now.
I dropped the letter into the open flame, as it begun to crackle and burn up, small embers making their way through the air.
"With this offering... I humbly ask Her Majesty Lilith to hear my request. I want no more than you to be there to please my every need. I want to be on top of you, every night. I want you to serve me and obey my every desire, no matter how extreme. I-"
Before I could finish, the flame was suddenly extinguished. A cold chill whooshed down my spine, as I shivered, alone in absolute darkness. The only light being from the dim, green LED display of our microwave. I was being watched by someone, or something.
I nervously backed away from the smoldering candle, using the light of the microwave's clock as a guide. Until I tripped over myself and banged my head on the counter.
"Fuck!" I cried painfully, rubbing the back of my head.
"Consider that as your punishment, arrogant one. Prepare for the consequences." A mature, feminine voice loudly spoke out. My eyes sunk into the back of my head.
"Are... A-Are you..?" I stammered, "Don't wake my roommate, shush!" I demanded.
"I don't like your tone, little one. Perhaps I'll have to teach you some manners." The voice laughs sadistically.
The click-clack of high heels on the cold, tile floor drew closer, and closer to me, as the kitchen light turned on.
Still on the freezing floor, I looked up at this mystery person. My eyes widened in shock, as my dream had finally come true.
Standing at about 6'5", wearing a black dress laced with sparkling silver jewelry, was a beautiful demon woman. Her hair was a pure white color, wavy and down to her waist length-wise. And her skin was pale, but absolutely flawless. Her body type was busty and mature, with fantastic hips and curves.
Two black demon horns rested atop her head. She stared down at me with her dark red, domineering eyes, her soft gaze seemed to penetrate my very soul.
"Well~ Aren't you a handsome little thing?" She said in a soft, seductive tone, licking her cherry red lips. They looked so soft and kissable.
"Th-Thank you..." I stammered nervously.
"My pleasure." She smiled, which quickly faded as her expression changed.
"Now, who do you think you are?" She asked coldly.
"What do you mean?" I asked quietly.
"Your countless letters." She explains, "See, I ignored them at first. Why would I want to go out with a mortal human? It doesn't make any sense. But, your recent letters have really pissed me off." She huffed.
"I'm sorry, I'm just-" I said, but she interrupted me.
"I'm not some kind of slut. Do you seriously think you can order me around like that? Do you even know who I am?" She demanded.
"Wait, are you Lilith..?" I asked nervously.
"HEY." She snapped, "I never gave you permission to refer to me as Lilith. Stand up." She ordered.
"Y-Yes, Your Grace..!" I yelped, quickly standing up and ignoring the throbbing pain in my head.
"Much better." She smiled.
I looked up into her pretty, dark red eyes. They glimmered with evil in it's purest form. I didn't want to anger her. She was much, much taller than me, and could easily overpower me.
"You're really beautiful, Your Majesty..." I said softly.
"Be quiet." She ordered.
Queen Lilith began to slowly circle me, seemingly undressing me with her eyes.
"Pathetic." She scoffed, "You're only a little child. You're unfit to dominate any woman who comes along." She spoke in a teasing tone.
"I'm not a kid, I'm an adult..." I said quietly.
"Excuse me?" She raised her voice.
"Nothing, Your Grace." I spoke.
"Good."
She stopped in front of me, and placed her hands together. She closed her eyes, and muttered some strange words, sounded like Latin to me. An eerie, red glow surrounded her hands, as two objects took form in her hands.
A leash, and a black studded collar. The collar had a metal heart-tag with an inscription on it.
*Slave*
With a seductive smile, she gently strapped the collar around my neck, and clipped the leash to the collar.
"What's this for, Your Grace?" I asked shyly.
"I think you already know." She giggled evilly, "You're coming with me. I want you."
"But, I have a life here! I can't just leave everything behind..." I whined.
She delivered a swift, but gentle slap across my face.
"Hush, slave. You do not have a choice." She growled, "You are going to serve me for the rest of eternity, whether you like it or not. You wanted me to be your play-thing, so it's only fit that I make you MY play-thing."
I trembled in fear, as she turned away from me and muttered another Latin spell. Suddenly, a large, red portal opened up in front of us. This must be the portal to Hell, I thought to myself.
She entered the portal, tugging me along with the leash.
And I never saw the mortal world again.
Now, do I regret my decision?
Not really. She's a great mistress. She knows how to keep me happy, with lots of love and cuddles. She's a very sweet and motherly person when she's not angry. And, I know how to properly please her, sexually and emotionally.
But, sometimes...
I wish I had just kept asking her out on dates, instead. | Finally, after 100 days I will have a hot girlfriend! I can't wait to meet her!
​
I heard a really loud noise in the hallway. She was a super hot demon girl in such a red dress that it hurt my eyes. She had these black, killer eyes, super sharp features and long, silky hair, that was really something between red or orange. She was definetly taller than me.
She looked around, until she noticed me. She judged me, noticed my ugliness and looked down on the floor.
'So what, where are you taking me?' She asked. Her voice was just perfect. I just stood there, looking at that beautiful girl in my house. She just sighed, looking pretty uncomfortable. 'Are you going to just stare at my tits for the rest of the night or what?'
I just realised where I was looking.
'I- I didn't mean... I mean... I...' I didn't really know what to say. 'D-Do you just want to sit on the couch, eat some fastfood and watch bad movies?'
She seemed interested.
'Romantic comedies?'
'Alright.'
I went to my room for a second, took my phone and entered the hallway. I didn't find the demon girl there, but I quickly noticed that she changed into sweatpants and a T-shirt and went into my living room. She was already looking for a movie.
'What do you want to eat?' I asked.
'A pizza' she instantly replied, without even looking at me. 'Do you have any Cheetos?'
​
After half an hour, when the food finally arrived, I got to asking questions.
'What's your name? I'm Oliver.'
'Great, I didn't ask. My simplified name is Sheila, I found that humans have issues with my regular name.'
I didn't really have an idea what to say next, I just expected to quickly find a topic, so I akwardly stared at the kissing couple on the screen for a minute.
'You like other movie genres, right?'
'Yeah, I like historical. Fantasy can be okay, but I totally hate science-fiction. It's usually soo boring' she said and finally looked at me. I could see a small smile forming.
'Do you want some tea or coffee?'
'Some white tea, in a mug, I hate glasses, two and a half spoon of sugar. Also if you have any colorful mugs...'
​
After three more movies and two cups of tea Sheila started falling asleep. She wasn't really subtle about it, she just got a pillow, put it on my knees and laid down. I soon became tired as well and I slept until 2 pm. When I woke up, Sheila was gone, but left me a piece of paper with something like a poem and wrote 'summon me <3' next to it. | |
[WP] You prayed every night for the chance to date either a Goddess or Demon Queen. After 100 prayers, you're startled when a loud voice booms out, "Granted, mortal! Now shut up and live with the consequences! " | *"Dear Graze, Shana, Maria and the 99 Goddesses of this land, hear my holy prayer. Grant my wish and honor to date one of thy gracious deities."*
*"Blood and Skulls. Wolfs bane and Black Rose. With these sacrifices of the Earth, I ask any of the Queens of the 9 Circles to bequeath me with a romantic outing."*
Every night I say these prayers, chuckling after. Now, I'm an atheist, always have been. But after several dares and the promise of 1000 Rubies, I thought *"Why the heck not!"* I mean, money's money, right?
I had reached the 100th night of praying, by now it was a routine. Only 265 more days and I'd be a *very* wealthy man. I was the only one who accepted the challenge. The only one brave enough. It wasn't like the deities existed.
Boy was I wrong.
Suddenly a voiced boomed behind me and I turn around. Light started shining through the clouds as I was in awe.
# "𝔐𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔞𝔩! 𝔚𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔊𝔬𝔡𝔡𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔄𝔩𝔪𝔦𝔞, 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔡 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔩𝔶 𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔢. 𝔗𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔯𝔢𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔡 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔶 𝔡𝔢𝔳𝔬𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫. 𝔅𝔢𝔥𝔬𝔩𝔡, 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔊𝔬𝔡𝔡𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔉𝔞𝔪𝔦𝔩𝔶, 𝔜𝔪𝔦𝔯!"
Before me appeared a beautiful woman. Her skin outshone the sun, her hair flowed like the Nile and her eyes put even the rarest gems to shame. She wore a silky robe which truly emphasized her godly origins "Hello there! I'm Ymir! I can't wait to go on our date!" She smiled. Her smile was truly powerful, my very knees shook. Her voice was like a piano piece, elegant and beautiful.
"Wh...w-" Before I could finish, the earth started to shake beneath me and lava started flowing from the cracks. Then another voice could be heard.
# "Oɦ, ʟɨȶȶʟɛ ֆɨռռɛʀ! աɛ, ȶɦɛ 9 զʊɛɛռֆ օʄ ɦɛʟʟ, ɦǟʋɛ ƈɦօֆɛռ օռɛ օʄ օʊʀ օառ ȶօ ɖǟȶɛ ʏօʊ! աɨȶռɛֆֆ ʏօʊʀ ռɛա ʟօʋɛʀ, ȶɦɛ զʊɛɛռ օʄ ȶɦɛ 9ȶɦ ƈɨʀƈʟɛ օʄ ȶʀɛǟƈɦɛʀʏ, ʟʊƈɨռɖǟ!"
Ascending from beneath was, in all meanings of the word, a hot motherfucker. Her skin tanned like a desert, her eyes crimson red and cute short bobcut. She wore a black leather jacket and had large curled horns on her head "Hey there, so when's the date happening?" She smirks, apparently knowing my confusion.
"What in the ever loving fuck is happening!" I shout. They both look at me as though I was the weird one here.
"You prayed to us for 100 days straight!" Ymir says joyfully.
"Yeah, whaddya think was gonna happen dumbass? Nothing?" Lucinda teases.
"Well... Yeah. I didn't even think you all were real." I answer, exasperated "This was all for a dare!". Immediately, they get deflated.
"Oh... This was a joke. Sorry" Ymir looked like she was on the verge of tears. I'm pretty sure a couple families just divorced.
"Crap, I did my hair and everything" Lucinda mutters beneath her breath "Well, I'd better get going. I had some pirates to boil anyway"
As they start to go away, I shout "Hey, Hey! Hold up!" They look at me "Just cuz this was originally a joke, doesn't mean I can't date you! I mean who wouldn't want to date the both of you! You're all absolutely dazzling!" I start blushing.
Ymir wipes her tears and says "Would Tuesday work?" I nod. Thank Goddess that I managed to make her happy again.
Lucinda plays with her hair "Well, I guess those pirates could wait. Well see ya tomorrow." She says as they both leave.
&#x200B;
What in hell did I get myself into!? | I learnt from a very young age that there are two kinds of people in this world.
The first are those who were born to live in it, those who since they were only a few days old would clap their hands and laugh and all others would clap their hands in kind at the mere cherubic act of innocent expression.
They were those who would learn and absorb the crafts of humanity seamlessly and outrun all others in their classes. They had a future, bright and comfortable.
Then there were those who had none of those acuities, who shared none of the same proclivities.
The dregs of society locked within the confines of their room and indulging fantasies of being a secret hero still waiting to discover their destiny.
I was the latter.
And just as I described, there I sat away from the trepid reality of the outside world, my curtains drawn closed to keep the judging sun's light at bay.
There I sat within the darkness of my room as the computer screen basked me in the colourful shine of a new anime where I munched away with my bag of crisps, daydreaming of when the day would come when my true purpose would reveal itself and I would rise among all the others.
That was the thing about my fantasies, it was an escape, a way to convince myself I wasn't meant for the real world that I lived in.
That some video world awaited me where my true talents would come to shine as the unexpected protagonist of the world.
I numbly lowered my head and prayed once again to entertain my imagination, to humour the idea that perhaps this time, an answer would present itself.
There I sat humming in some made up ancient language I hoped would somehow not be random, but buried in some subconscious part of me. I entertained the idea of a goddess, or even a demon queen would come down and save me from my perils.
And so my crumb crusted lips moved and the dry tang of chips stuck to the roof of my mouth as I prayed again like so many times before.
"Please, for whoever may be listening, save me from my torment, goddess and demon queen alike, allow me to be your lover and bequeath me with such unparalleled power."
I lowered my hands and released them from each others as I returned to the present and found again, like so many times before, the uncomfortable silence that filled the room and sobered me into realizing how pathetic I was.
I heard a distant laughter from the anime screen, it sounded like it was mocking me. The screen shone a plethora of colours on me that failed to lift me from the greyscale pit I found myself in.
"Granted, mortal!" A voice bellowed like an echo one thinks to have misheard.
My sorrowful expression lifted itself and searched the room. Was it from the anime?
"Now shut up and live with the consequences!" The echoing voice of a voice bigger-than-life declared, as suddenly the pile of unwashed clothes beneath my legs unfurled and the floor opened to swallow me whole.
\*\*\*
/r/KikiWrites | |
[WP] "They said that gluing salt to a baseball bat to fight ghosts was a stupid idea, but who's laughing now?" you say as you whacked the ghost again. | "Who's laughing now? Come at me, you bedsheet-motherfuckers!", I hollered. A wide swing of my bat caught an incoming vase. It would have caved my face right in. Dusty porcellain rained onto my boots. For an orphanage, this place must have been opulent in its prime. The white shapes hesitated, and I tossed the last of my salt to form a haphazard ring in front of me. I had a little sanctuary now. And time. Really needed to catch my breath. I shivered and bit back the bile. Where their presence had touched me, I wanted to scratch until my skin gave way and my fingernails flowed crimson. Better yet, I'd like to crawl out of my skin altogether. They were disgusting. Small, with burning, sunken pits for eyes and a great drooping black maw. I felt weirdly shameful in their midst. Naked.
They oozed something foul. Somehow, they managed to seem intangible and slimy at the same time.
I was outnumbered, trapped and well past the point of exhaustion.
"Really, you don't want me to die here. I'm not well-suited to eternity. And with all my mental baggage, I'd definitely become a ghost and haunt this place with you guys. Cracking bad jokes all the while." I jabbed my bat at them and tried to adopt a more imposing posture. As imposing as I could, while clutching the wall behind me for support. This was bad. Were they draining me somehow?
It dawned on me. These ghosts were ***wrong***.
I'd done plenty of urban adventuring. Most spirits were friendly, some annoying. A few needed help. But I'd never seen anything like this. There had to be a reason. Think! But my brain felt like pudding. My life was a mess right now and I felt incredibly compelled to lose myself in fantasy. Like I'd done as a child, whenever real life had been more than I could handle.
Somehow distantly, I registered pale, nailed fingers settling on my shoulder, like a huge spider. An irritating, panicked part of me grasped my mistake. My little half-circle of salt had scared off the ghosts at my front. But the wall at my back provided no security against entities literally made of lingering pain and resentment.
I didn't even try shaking the hand off. Instead, I bit my tongue, hard, until I tasted blood. The pain and the bitter taste was supposed to bring me back, just a little bit. It didn't seem like enough.
Something had made them this way. I frisked my mind for details. Where had they first appeared in force? What had prompted them to become aggressive. How had they moved? Was there a reason they'd cornered me up here?
I let the presence at my back seep into me, listening to it's voice in my blood. It prompted me to relax.
My legs gave in. I was small now, crumpled against the wall. The ghosts who'd chased me up here kept their distance. But all around me, a huge, imposing presence seeped out of the wall from behind. Enclosing me.
And then I saw it. It came down from above. *The face.*
It was more defined than the small ones', yet somehow still less human. Badly shaven, one side bubbling with burns. Small glinting eyes, searching, seizing. But the worst thing was in the mouth. From it's twisted grin flicked forth a *tongue,* a long and twisted thing, glistening with a red and fleshy texture.
As it came down upon me, I felt myself fade. Like water down the drain, I flowed to some distant, dark and narrow place I could not fathom. Somewhere in all that, understanding came to me, and with it, horror.
The tongue flicked close now.
*I don't have the strength.*
Closer.
*I'll die!*
Too close.
I felt its warmth in my face. And I brought up my bat, with all the force I could muster. When dealing with ghosts, you were never quite yourself. They *were* emotion, intense and raw, and they wanted you to share. Nevertheless, the seething anger that suddenly fueled me felt righteous. Cathartic.
Some ghosts were good for conversation, even games. Some were just meant to be left alone.
*This one needed to be destroyed.*
&#x200B;
I swung my bat uncounted times. When I was done, the wall had splintered and my arms were burning. I was covered in sweat and my breath was coming in short, raspy gasps. But the deed was done.
The small ones were still there, I knew. But they wouldn't attack me now. I'd done their bidding. The first part, anyway. I grimaced. Somehow, I suspected the worst part was yet to come. At least I'd brought a shovel. | “Hahaha! Ahahaha!”
'Wooosh' goes the bat again.
“Ha..haha..ahahaha!” Mickey's maniacal laughter echoes around him. A room so dark and forgotten that no one had entered in years, much less stayed to enjoy the hospitality of it's occupants. Not that the occupants were enjoying Mickey's tirade.
An old wives tale some call it. Some may venture so far as magic. And yet salting a baseball bat is just a law of physics seldom encountered or utilized. Thusly, it’s been long forgotten, to the chagrin of the afterlife the world over.
It's hard to say how Mickey came to realize his seemingly empty swings were putting cacophonic ripples in the membrane separating the two closely related realms of the living and the dead. And frankly, his reaction to the ordeal had been hard to discern from the fever that took him at the beginning of the day.
Although good etiquette expects ghosts to stay in their shadow realm save for dire situations, it is filled with all the bad apples who once took it as a challenge to destroy the living planet on which they began their existence. The lack of concern for much other than themselves hadn’t lifted in their passing, and after adjusting to the afterlife, they often return to their purpose in 'life'.
'Chchchchch' as the bat cuts through spirit matter, extending the chaotic feedback loop in which Mickey find himself.
In this case, the bad apples have ventured to tease and taunt Mickey into a bit of a manic state, at which point his instincts start to kick in. Having no sane recourse for the unexplainable interloping in his thoughts and actions he sought out a classic form of defense, the baseball bat, and got to seasoning. It's hard to say what drew Mickey to the salt shaker, but it seemed obvious to him in the moment.
Mickey ventured back down into his cellar where the haunting had begun days earlier. Normally an acceptably well lit room relegated to housing his extra food stores, Mickey had taken to using some of the extra space as a workshop. After quickly running out of space for his tools and partially finished projects, he poked his nose through a door at the back of the cellar.
'Whack' as the bat finds a cellar wall a little closer than expected.
The door seemed out of place to him. It hardly looked like a door at all, barely an imperfection in the wall where the edges lie. He figured it must have been a vestige of prohibition, where people took to producing and drinking alcohol in false rooms in their basements as to not be arrested.
The door opened easy enough. Both the first time and the second. The first time piqued the curiosity of the spirits, who had taken to using the old speakeasy as a hideaway from their realm. Just beyond an old membrane portal, it was easy to access and completely secluded. That is until Mickey stumbled in totally unawares clearing all the cobweb decorations the spirits had set up.
Mickey's rude behavior found him a quick enemy of the spirit gang, almost ten strong, enough to wreak a decent amount of havoc on someone, but still not so much as the afterlife gestapo might notice. A few days of pestering and interfering pushed Mickey to a breaking point. In his preparations for revenge, the spirits made haste back to the portal. The salting of the bat was enough to scare any ghost. The portal however was found to be under regular maintenance, leaving it inoperable for the time being.
'Woosh ..bang!' The cellar door slams shut behind Mickey, pulling him halfway from his state of oblivion and forcing him to reassess the situation for the first time.
Mickey found himself stumbling through the door, muttering to himself something crazy, just in time to catch the gang of spirits with a look of terror in their eyes. He never saw it of course; the living never know what to look for. But he did start swinging his deliciously salted bat.
The ghosts want to run, but they know that if they venture out into the world of the living much more, they'll be identified and put to extinction. So they floated around the speakeasy while Mickey scrambled their spirit matter in a variety of unpleasant ways, waiting for the portal maintenance to come to an end.
When Mickey worked himself into exhaustion, the gang of spirits pulled their battered selves back together and checked the portal door once more. Decommissioned. They shared another look of terror as they looked out into a new life. | |
[WP] "They said that gluing salt to a baseball bat to fight ghosts was a stupid idea, but who's laughing now?" you say as you whacked the ghost again. | There's a certain sound that salt makes under your feet that's quite unlike anything else.
It's the way the salt crystals form, I think. I'm no chemist--my 8th grade teacher is about as advanced as my public education degree in chemistry goes--but it has to be that. The crystals are all rough lines and hard edges, hundreds of thousands of them rubbing against each other with the violence of maraca shaker seeds. The same exact violence of movement, just none of the infectious musicality.
So once you step on them, it's just. . .a crunch. Hard and obdurate. It's physical, almost satisfying.
Which is the exact opposite of how you'd describe a salt-crusted bat feels like going through the ephemeral soul-stuff of a spirit from the beyond.
The ghost I'd just dismembered looked down at her newly-vested stump of an arm, then looked up at me. "This has got to be a joke."
"No joke," I said, trying to catch my breath, leaning on my trusty bat Morton. Yes, yes, I know.
Bite me. I was young and thought I was exceedingly clever. I'm older now. Still clever, just fewer bad puns.
The 35th ghost of the night--or 34th? I was starting to lose track; I definitely needed to start taking notes--said, "That's rhetorical." She looked outraged, and gesticulated wildly at her stump. "I just died 30 minutes ago! I'm dumped into some sorry excuse of a processing facility, am told to start acting all ghost-y, get redumped onto this--this--place, this--"
"Portland," I said.
"This ghetto! And then I'm doing exactly what I'm told, and some delinquent comes along to take off my arm! What gives you the right!"
"If it helps at all," I said, trying not to feel irritable, "I was aiming for your head."
"My head!? This is a crime! I'm being assaulted! I demand to speak to someone about this! I have rights!"
"Sure," I said, suppressing an eye roll that I could feel irresistibly welling up inside me. "Let me know your name, and I can call a manager or something."
"It's Karen!" the ghost shouted. "It's Karen, and I want this sorted out immediately!"
I paused at the name and marveled at the irony. "Okay," I said at last. "Maybe you're right, this is definitely a joke." And then I swung.
There was a shriek--nothing audible; ghosts don't speak, at least not literally. And this sound wasn't from the ghost per se, it was the sound of all that ambient soul-stuff being torn down back into its component parts: fire, earth, air, water--a flash of flame, a burst of superheated steam and hot air making the earth tremble for the briefest of moments, before the inevitability of death--real, true death--overtook the ghost and settled its deferred debt.
Taking down a ghost is unsatisfying, because you can't feel it--Morton passes through air; there's zero resistance. Just that flash of light and heat, a brief rumble, and the ghost i's gone.
Except for the sound of salt under my feet. A crunch that wasn't there before. Hard and obdurate. Physical. Satisfying.
I hefted Morton a bit, and moved on. | “Hahaha! Ahahaha!”
'Wooosh' goes the bat again.
“Ha..haha..ahahaha!” Mickey's maniacal laughter echoes around him. A room so dark and forgotten that no one had entered in years, much less stayed to enjoy the hospitality of it's occupants. Not that the occupants were enjoying Mickey's tirade.
An old wives tale some call it. Some may venture so far as magic. And yet salting a baseball bat is just a law of physics seldom encountered or utilized. Thusly, it’s been long forgotten, to the chagrin of the afterlife the world over.
It's hard to say how Mickey came to realize his seemingly empty swings were putting cacophonic ripples in the membrane separating the two closely related realms of the living and the dead. And frankly, his reaction to the ordeal had been hard to discern from the fever that took him at the beginning of the day.
Although good etiquette expects ghosts to stay in their shadow realm save for dire situations, it is filled with all the bad apples who once took it as a challenge to destroy the living planet on which they began their existence. The lack of concern for much other than themselves hadn’t lifted in their passing, and after adjusting to the afterlife, they often return to their purpose in 'life'.
'Chchchchch' as the bat cuts through spirit matter, extending the chaotic feedback loop in which Mickey find himself.
In this case, the bad apples have ventured to tease and taunt Mickey into a bit of a manic state, at which point his instincts start to kick in. Having no sane recourse for the unexplainable interloping in his thoughts and actions he sought out a classic form of defense, the baseball bat, and got to seasoning. It's hard to say what drew Mickey to the salt shaker, but it seemed obvious to him in the moment.
Mickey ventured back down into his cellar where the haunting had begun days earlier. Normally an acceptably well lit room relegated to housing his extra food stores, Mickey had taken to using some of the extra space as a workshop. After quickly running out of space for his tools and partially finished projects, he poked his nose through a door at the back of the cellar.
'Whack' as the bat finds a cellar wall a little closer than expected.
The door seemed out of place to him. It hardly looked like a door at all, barely an imperfection in the wall where the edges lie. He figured it must have been a vestige of prohibition, where people took to producing and drinking alcohol in false rooms in their basements as to not be arrested.
The door opened easy enough. Both the first time and the second. The first time piqued the curiosity of the spirits, who had taken to using the old speakeasy as a hideaway from their realm. Just beyond an old membrane portal, it was easy to access and completely secluded. That is until Mickey stumbled in totally unawares clearing all the cobweb decorations the spirits had set up.
Mickey's rude behavior found him a quick enemy of the spirit gang, almost ten strong, enough to wreak a decent amount of havoc on someone, but still not so much as the afterlife gestapo might notice. A few days of pestering and interfering pushed Mickey to a breaking point. In his preparations for revenge, the spirits made haste back to the portal. The salting of the bat was enough to scare any ghost. The portal however was found to be under regular maintenance, leaving it inoperable for the time being.
'Woosh ..bang!' The cellar door slams shut behind Mickey, pulling him halfway from his state of oblivion and forcing him to reassess the situation for the first time.
Mickey found himself stumbling through the door, muttering to himself something crazy, just in time to catch the gang of spirits with a look of terror in their eyes. He never saw it of course; the living never know what to look for. But he did start swinging his deliciously salted bat.
The ghosts want to run, but they know that if they venture out into the world of the living much more, they'll be identified and put to extinction. So they floated around the speakeasy while Mickey scrambled their spirit matter in a variety of unpleasant ways, waiting for the portal maintenance to come to an end.
When Mickey worked himself into exhaustion, the gang of spirits pulled their battered selves back together and checked the portal door once more. Decommissioned. They shared another look of terror as they looked out into a new life. | |
[WP] "They said that gluing salt to a baseball bat to fight ghosts was a stupid idea, but who's laughing now?" you say as you whacked the ghost again. | I remember one of my first exorcist classes, such a funny thing, an "exorcist class" a part of me fully expected to practice with actual possessed people like in medical school. I was relieved when on my first day most of it was about how to spot a fake case through the use of sheer logic and science. I was a devout catholic but even I had my limits about the supernatural, that being said when we finally reached the part of defeating a supernatural existence we were pushed constantly of getting creative with our methods. The use of a ventilator combined with flour so we could detect the erratic movement of the particles? Sure. Use a recording of a man reading every versicle on the article to excorcise at 5x speed and a recording that detected anomalies for when the entity got pissed? Go ahead. Use a humidifier that uses blessed water as it source 24/7 to prevent any entity of getting stronger? Fuck it, just do it. The use of technology allowed most of the students to get creative. So when I made my suggestion I didn't expect such an adverse reaction from my peers.
-You wanna hit him with a bat?
-Covered in salt sir.
- And how do you exactly are gonna do it?
- By...glueing it sir...- I was speaking slowly as I thought that it was such a blatantly obvious concept that I fully expected to be told that it was already done in a much more ingenious way.
Alex, one of the most active students, mockingly responded
- What ya gonna do? Bash it's skull into the next after life?- he joked while the rest of the class laughed.
-Maybe he wants to crush his nuts and play ball. - responded Erik, and this time even the teacher laughed.
-Well you said that sometimes the entities like to get ... physical, and well since we know that entities avoid salt since they can touch it wether they want it or not, why not FORCE them to be touched, by using kinectic force.
The teacher placed a more stern look this time.
- Listen David I do believe in finding creative ways of contacting a spirit, but in this particular case I believe the mentality of being confrontational is simply a little bit ridiculous if I may say so myself, you have the proper mentality you simply need to focus it in another way.
A part of myself felt pissed that day, I still remember it even now. They lacked vision.
I liked baseball you know? I had a strong swing even as a child. So when I gave the first swing into the entity that threw itself at me, feeling a solid hit as well as a painful screech gave me a huge sense of satisfaction, thanks to the use of the ventilated flour and the recording of the versicles, the creature was pissed and I was able to visualize the direction of it's movements. So I waited and I swinged, I remember the joke of Erik while I was doing it, because hitting him in the nuts probably was the best idea that came out of that class that day. | “Hahaha! Ahahaha!”
'Wooosh' goes the bat again.
“Ha..haha..ahahaha!” Mickey's maniacal laughter echoes around him. A room so dark and forgotten that no one had entered in years, much less stayed to enjoy the hospitality of it's occupants. Not that the occupants were enjoying Mickey's tirade.
An old wives tale some call it. Some may venture so far as magic. And yet salting a baseball bat is just a law of physics seldom encountered or utilized. Thusly, it’s been long forgotten, to the chagrin of the afterlife the world over.
It's hard to say how Mickey came to realize his seemingly empty swings were putting cacophonic ripples in the membrane separating the two closely related realms of the living and the dead. And frankly, his reaction to the ordeal had been hard to discern from the fever that took him at the beginning of the day.
Although good etiquette expects ghosts to stay in their shadow realm save for dire situations, it is filled with all the bad apples who once took it as a challenge to destroy the living planet on which they began their existence. The lack of concern for much other than themselves hadn’t lifted in their passing, and after adjusting to the afterlife, they often return to their purpose in 'life'.
'Chchchchch' as the bat cuts through spirit matter, extending the chaotic feedback loop in which Mickey find himself.
In this case, the bad apples have ventured to tease and taunt Mickey into a bit of a manic state, at which point his instincts start to kick in. Having no sane recourse for the unexplainable interloping in his thoughts and actions he sought out a classic form of defense, the baseball bat, and got to seasoning. It's hard to say what drew Mickey to the salt shaker, but it seemed obvious to him in the moment.
Mickey ventured back down into his cellar where the haunting had begun days earlier. Normally an acceptably well lit room relegated to housing his extra food stores, Mickey had taken to using some of the extra space as a workshop. After quickly running out of space for his tools and partially finished projects, he poked his nose through a door at the back of the cellar.
'Whack' as the bat finds a cellar wall a little closer than expected.
The door seemed out of place to him. It hardly looked like a door at all, barely an imperfection in the wall where the edges lie. He figured it must have been a vestige of prohibition, where people took to producing and drinking alcohol in false rooms in their basements as to not be arrested.
The door opened easy enough. Both the first time and the second. The first time piqued the curiosity of the spirits, who had taken to using the old speakeasy as a hideaway from their realm. Just beyond an old membrane portal, it was easy to access and completely secluded. That is until Mickey stumbled in totally unawares clearing all the cobweb decorations the spirits had set up.
Mickey's rude behavior found him a quick enemy of the spirit gang, almost ten strong, enough to wreak a decent amount of havoc on someone, but still not so much as the afterlife gestapo might notice. A few days of pestering and interfering pushed Mickey to a breaking point. In his preparations for revenge, the spirits made haste back to the portal. The salting of the bat was enough to scare any ghost. The portal however was found to be under regular maintenance, leaving it inoperable for the time being.
'Woosh ..bang!' The cellar door slams shut behind Mickey, pulling him halfway from his state of oblivion and forcing him to reassess the situation for the first time.
Mickey found himself stumbling through the door, muttering to himself something crazy, just in time to catch the gang of spirits with a look of terror in their eyes. He never saw it of course; the living never know what to look for. But he did start swinging his deliciously salted bat.
The ghosts want to run, but they know that if they venture out into the world of the living much more, they'll be identified and put to extinction. So they floated around the speakeasy while Mickey scrambled their spirit matter in a variety of unpleasant ways, waiting for the portal maintenance to come to an end.
When Mickey worked himself into exhaustion, the gang of spirits pulled their battered selves back together and checked the portal door once more. Decommissioned. They shared another look of terror as they looked out into a new life. | |
[WP] "They said that gluing salt to a baseball bat to fight ghosts was a stupid idea, but who's laughing now?" you say as you whacked the ghost again. | There's a certain sound that salt makes under your feet that's quite unlike anything else.
It's the way the salt crystals form, I think. I'm no chemist--my 8th grade teacher is about as advanced as my public education degree in chemistry goes--but it has to be that. The crystals are all rough lines and hard edges, hundreds of thousands of them rubbing against each other with the violence of maraca shaker seeds. The same exact violence of movement, just none of the infectious musicality.
So once you step on them, it's just. . .a crunch. Hard and obdurate. It's physical, almost satisfying.
Which is the exact opposite of how you'd describe a salt-crusted bat feels like going through the ephemeral soul-stuff of a spirit from the beyond.
The ghost I'd just dismembered looked down at her newly-vested stump of an arm, then looked up at me. "This has got to be a joke."
"No joke," I said, trying to catch my breath, leaning on my trusty bat Morton. Yes, yes, I know.
Bite me. I was young and thought I was exceedingly clever. I'm older now. Still clever, just fewer bad puns.
The 35th ghost of the night--or 34th? I was starting to lose track; I definitely needed to start taking notes--said, "That's rhetorical." She looked outraged, and gesticulated wildly at her stump. "I just died 30 minutes ago! I'm dumped into some sorry excuse of a processing facility, am told to start acting all ghost-y, get redumped onto this--this--place, this--"
"Portland," I said.
"This ghetto! And then I'm doing exactly what I'm told, and some delinquent comes along to take off my arm! What gives you the right!"
"If it helps at all," I said, trying not to feel irritable, "I was aiming for your head."
"My head!? This is a crime! I'm being assaulted! I demand to speak to someone about this! I have rights!"
"Sure," I said, suppressing an eye roll that I could feel irresistibly welling up inside me. "Let me know your name, and I can call a manager or something."
"It's Karen!" the ghost shouted. "It's Karen, and I want this sorted out immediately!"
I paused at the name and marveled at the irony. "Okay," I said at last. "Maybe you're right, this is definitely a joke." And then I swung.
There was a shriek--nothing audible; ghosts don't speak, at least not literally. And this sound wasn't from the ghost per se, it was the sound of all that ambient soul-stuff being torn down back into its component parts: fire, earth, air, water--a flash of flame, a burst of superheated steam and hot air making the earth tremble for the briefest of moments, before the inevitability of death--real, true death--overtook the ghost and settled its deferred debt.
Taking down a ghost is unsatisfying, because you can't feel it--Morton passes through air; there's zero resistance. Just that flash of light and heat, a brief rumble, and the ghost i's gone.
Except for the sound of salt under my feet. A crunch that wasn't there before. Hard and obdurate. Physical. Satisfying.
I hefted Morton a bit, and moved on. | I take in a deep breath.
"Finally. Now that nobody's home, lemme try some weird shit on my own."
I say as I swing my bleached looking bat haphazardly everywhere with no aim. Just hitting the air. I kept swinging it everywhere in my room without paying any heed to my arms throbbing in pain.
I let out a quick sigh of relief.
"dang. My dumass was really gonna hit my cute little lovely Intel® Core™ i7-6700K, 8GB of system memory, NVIDIA GeForce GTX 1060 computer."
Ok. I exaggerated it a little bit for my windows 7 pc but you get it right? you cant really help it when you love your pc so much. And we can always ignore such negligible amounts of misunderstandings. Especially when my floor is all dirty with sticky salt. And my feet and arms cant stop cursing me for my own existence. Apparantly they still dont happen to fall in love with their owner even after spending 17 lovely yrs with her. But what can you understand about oNe SiDeD lOvE.
I mean its not my fault that the salt decided to fall off my bat on the floor and stick all over my feet.
"i love you, my dear feet. Remember. NO PAIN. NO GAIN. Just a little bit more and we get to smash the hell outta this ghost resulting in my nightmares."
"C'mmn SAY IT WITH ME. NO MORE NIGHTMARES."
Then my consciousness hit me. Suddenly, my right side of the brain took all control for some unknown reason. I realised what a mess i had made. Obviously there are no ghosts. Im just trying to find some dumbass reason for my nightmares. Ok btw lemme tell yall, by nightmares i dont mean nightmares. I mean my life, if that makes sense. Maybe reading all those fantasy novels really did change the shape of my brain. I should really stop looking for magic potions that will change my life overnight. Coz THEY WONT. And YOU KNOW IT. What was I expecting. A gHoSt tHaTs GoNnA cHaNgE mY liFe. I mean like oh come on, life isnt a alladin and the genie.
With a depressing disappointment, I threw my bat on the floor.
"AAAAAH" a loud sharp sound pierced through the air.
"what the fuck" As my whole body shivers and i get goosebumps. That wasnt just the sound of the bat falling right? Or dont tell me my dum dum ass now has schizophrenia. And actually, in what the fuckity fuck was that?
And ofc i look back to see what? A translucent little ghost hanging mid air.
"ummm what the fuck?" As i took a step back and said with my dull voice with no emotions whatsoever, while the inner me was freaking.
"wot did you expect when you threw that bat over the ground so unexpectedly? DONT YOU SEE HOW HARD I HAVE BEEN TRYING ALL THIS TIME TO GET OUT OF THIS ROOM AND NOT GET HIT BY SOME RANDOM IDIOTIC HOOMAN?" said a cute voice.
*bruh. how can i be scared when your voice sounds like a cute little kirby saying poyo.*
"but actually what was with your 'AAAH', i honestly thought-"
"THE HELL. YOU LITERALLY SMACKED MY BUTT WITH THAT GROSS BA- "
I couldnt help but give into the moment and laugh."you are one hell of a kinky mf" i said with a big ugly laugh."i honestly got so scared that my neighbours were having an intimate moment in their dry lives for the first time" i said again with even a bigger and uglier laugh.
And honestly, this whole situation was cracking me up. The absurdity of this whole incident and ummm...maybe ill just wake up from dream and sweat it out as oNe Of ThOsE DaYs? But i somtimes think, my dreams can be pretty entertaining sometimes. Like no way in hell is this true-
"I cant make out if you r crying or laughing rn but you sound creepy af" said that cute voice even cutely.
"ummm sir, IM THE ONE who's supposed to be creeped out"
ps: ok idk wtf is this. Also y my hands feel so tired after typing this even after having a 100 wpm speed smh :(. And why does it feel like im breaking the law or something by writing something like lmaooo TWT. And i dont just mean the grammatical laws coz im too lazy to correct em all. I mean idk im tired typing this now. | |
[WP] "They said that gluing salt to a baseball bat to fight ghosts was a stupid idea, but who's laughing now?" you say as you whacked the ghost again. | There's a certain sound that salt makes under your feet that's quite unlike anything else.
It's the way the salt crystals form, I think. I'm no chemist--my 8th grade teacher is about as advanced as my public education degree in chemistry goes--but it has to be that. The crystals are all rough lines and hard edges, hundreds of thousands of them rubbing against each other with the violence of maraca shaker seeds. The same exact violence of movement, just none of the infectious musicality.
So once you step on them, it's just. . .a crunch. Hard and obdurate. It's physical, almost satisfying.
Which is the exact opposite of how you'd describe a salt-crusted bat feels like going through the ephemeral soul-stuff of a spirit from the beyond.
The ghost I'd just dismembered looked down at her newly-vested stump of an arm, then looked up at me. "This has got to be a joke."
"No joke," I said, trying to catch my breath, leaning on my trusty bat Morton. Yes, yes, I know.
Bite me. I was young and thought I was exceedingly clever. I'm older now. Still clever, just fewer bad puns.
The 35th ghost of the night--or 34th? I was starting to lose track; I definitely needed to start taking notes--said, "That's rhetorical." She looked outraged, and gesticulated wildly at her stump. "I just died 30 minutes ago! I'm dumped into some sorry excuse of a processing facility, am told to start acting all ghost-y, get redumped onto this--this--place, this--"
"Portland," I said.
"This ghetto! And then I'm doing exactly what I'm told, and some delinquent comes along to take off my arm! What gives you the right!"
"If it helps at all," I said, trying not to feel irritable, "I was aiming for your head."
"My head!? This is a crime! I'm being assaulted! I demand to speak to someone about this! I have rights!"
"Sure," I said, suppressing an eye roll that I could feel irresistibly welling up inside me. "Let me know your name, and I can call a manager or something."
"It's Karen!" the ghost shouted. "It's Karen, and I want this sorted out immediately!"
I paused at the name and marveled at the irony. "Okay," I said at last. "Maybe you're right, this is definitely a joke." And then I swung.
There was a shriek--nothing audible; ghosts don't speak, at least not literally. And this sound wasn't from the ghost per se, it was the sound of all that ambient soul-stuff being torn down back into its component parts: fire, earth, air, water--a flash of flame, a burst of superheated steam and hot air making the earth tremble for the briefest of moments, before the inevitability of death--real, true death--overtook the ghost and settled its deferred debt.
Taking down a ghost is unsatisfying, because you can't feel it--Morton passes through air; there's zero resistance. Just that flash of light and heat, a brief rumble, and the ghost i's gone.
Except for the sound of salt under my feet. A crunch that wasn't there before. Hard and obdurate. Physical. Satisfying.
I hefted Morton a bit, and moved on. | The saint and the sinner
Whaling at the top of its lungs, the ghost ran backwards trying to avoid one more swing of the salty bat. Its cries were a mix of a baby and the last mating call of an exotic bird.
Tim ran forwards, hurling himself and the bat at the ghost cowering in the corner. Visible tears gushed down its cheek.
“Stop, I have a family, please”
Tim cackled with a mix of rage and anguish. They always said the same thing. Always a cry and a whine. A made-up story of how they had a family, a wife, some kids. They were ‘just like us’ but they weren’t looking at them with their pale skin and red eyes. Tim knew who they really were. They were the pinnacle of evil and anger rolled into one enormous floating mass..
Rebecca stood behind Tim, shocked, confused. Not believing what was happening in front of her baby blue eyes. Was this is what it came down to. A man swinging a salted bat and a thousand pounds missing from the pocket. All the pain and suffering the ghost had caused, and this was how it was going to end.
Two more swings and a fine grit powder floated to the floor. Tim's adrenaline was like crack to the veins dancing through his body, pumping his heart. This is what he lived for. The devil sent them here and he would bat them down. One by one.
“A hover won’t clear the mess up you will need bleach, but I think that’s the last you will hear of him. I told you it would work” He smiled and winked, swung the bat behind his back and wondered off down the hall. He got in his car and disappeared into the night. Rebecca sat down with a strong whiskey and fell asleep. The nightmares had gone.
The radio blasted out some old rock music as he put his foot down, speeding down the country lanes headed for home. When he got in he slunk away his equipment undressed and threw himself on the bed. The hunger he felt after a fight was normally over powering but tonight all he felt was exhaustion and pain in his upper forearm. He had swung that bat harder than he had before..
That night as he closed his eyes, a kind of heat hit him. His blood felt like it was boiling and his heart was racing. In his mind he saw a face, a dark face with red eyes. As the picture cleared in his mind, a voice sang.
“You have been a bad boy, Tim. You know that right. You may think what you do is for the greater good, but you took it to far this time.” The face cleared and he could see a read glow.
“You know who I am and you are going to pay for what you did” His blood bubbled skin itched eyes cried although they were closed, and the water filled up his lids.
“This is not the end, this is just beginning. I will be with you for the rest of your life. Beating and torturing you, making you walk on hot coals as I unleash hell upon you. You killed a saint and now you are a sinner. God has let you lose on me so you can be mine to play with. He has given me permission to do what I want with you. You should have killed none of my minions, they were all mine but you where protected by the man himself. But now you messed with one of his, HAHAHAHA,” The cackle made times ears burst, a stream of blood fell down his cheek. | |
[WP] "They said that gluing salt to a baseball bat to fight ghosts was a stupid idea, but who's laughing now?" you say as you whacked the ghost again. | There's a certain sound that salt makes under your feet that's quite unlike anything else.
It's the way the salt crystals form, I think. I'm no chemist--my 8th grade teacher is about as advanced as my public education degree in chemistry goes--but it has to be that. The crystals are all rough lines and hard edges, hundreds of thousands of them rubbing against each other with the violence of maraca shaker seeds. The same exact violence of movement, just none of the infectious musicality.
So once you step on them, it's just. . .a crunch. Hard and obdurate. It's physical, almost satisfying.
Which is the exact opposite of how you'd describe a salt-crusted bat feels like going through the ephemeral soul-stuff of a spirit from the beyond.
The ghost I'd just dismembered looked down at her newly-vested stump of an arm, then looked up at me. "This has got to be a joke."
"No joke," I said, trying to catch my breath, leaning on my trusty bat Morton. Yes, yes, I know.
Bite me. I was young and thought I was exceedingly clever. I'm older now. Still clever, just fewer bad puns.
The 35th ghost of the night--or 34th? I was starting to lose track; I definitely needed to start taking notes--said, "That's rhetorical." She looked outraged, and gesticulated wildly at her stump. "I just died 30 minutes ago! I'm dumped into some sorry excuse of a processing facility, am told to start acting all ghost-y, get redumped onto this--this--place, this--"
"Portland," I said.
"This ghetto! And then I'm doing exactly what I'm told, and some delinquent comes along to take off my arm! What gives you the right!"
"If it helps at all," I said, trying not to feel irritable, "I was aiming for your head."
"My head!? This is a crime! I'm being assaulted! I demand to speak to someone about this! I have rights!"
"Sure," I said, suppressing an eye roll that I could feel irresistibly welling up inside me. "Let me know your name, and I can call a manager or something."
"It's Karen!" the ghost shouted. "It's Karen, and I want this sorted out immediately!"
I paused at the name and marveled at the irony. "Okay," I said at last. "Maybe you're right, this is definitely a joke." And then I swung.
There was a shriek--nothing audible; ghosts don't speak, at least not literally. And this sound wasn't from the ghost per se, it was the sound of all that ambient soul-stuff being torn down back into its component parts: fire, earth, air, water--a flash of flame, a burst of superheated steam and hot air making the earth tremble for the briefest of moments, before the inevitability of death--real, true death--overtook the ghost and settled its deferred debt.
Taking down a ghost is unsatisfying, because you can't feel it--Morton passes through air; there's zero resistance. Just that flash of light and heat, a brief rumble, and the ghost i's gone.
Except for the sound of salt under my feet. A crunch that wasn't there before. Hard and obdurate. Physical. Satisfying.
I hefted Morton a bit, and moved on. | "This is so ridiculous!", she comented, waiving the weapon around. "Are you positive it's gonna work?"
"Trust me. I've done this before." I assured, confidently looking into her eyes. "Soon you'll have done it, too." "Besides," I brushed her hair out of her face, "You'll look awesome doing it."
She laughed. "You're forbidden to tell anyone about it!"
"As if anyone would believe me if I told this story", I added with a smirk. "Sure, the ghost part they could belive..."
She punched me in the shoulder. "I'm serious, you're a dead guy!"
"Uhh... talking about dead guys..." I pointed behind her.
Her eyes went wide and she span in a hurry, almost hitting my pointing hand as she blind swang! Luckly I expected that it could happen and pulled out of the way almost preemptively. The ghost, however, just stood there. I think he wasn't used to being harmed by colorful swords.
I know a few things about ghosts. First, they don't have a body. They can move through walls, through the floor or ceiling, and you can't hit them with attacks. Second, they're hurt by salt. I don't understand why, but again, I don't understand ghosts. And third, they hurt people, sowe have to do something about them.
"Oh, my God! It works!" screamed Shelly. Her eyes showing shock, but her mouth with a grim.
She couldn't hide her confidence in that moment, even wearing those salt bags for armor. Oh, shit! I promised her I wouldn't tell anyone about that, so please, don't let her know I told you.
Let's focus on the important thing here: salt! The sword she's using, and this baseball bat I carry, are toys, the type kids play with it. They're light, made of plastic and, most important in our case, hollow.
"Told ya!" I smiled at her, walking toward the discombabulated specter with my baseball bat on the ready. "The toys go through them, but all the salt inside burns them like fire!" Bam! I hit the ghost again.
"So..." she considered for a moment, "it's like I'm using a fire sword!"
"Who's the nerd now, Lady Freezie?". I winked at her.
She marched to the ghost and chopped his head off with a mad swing, "Say what?" she gave me a death stare scarier than any apparition I've even encountered. In that moment I wished I could run through walls, too. | |
[WP] "They said that gluing salt to a baseball bat to fight ghosts was a stupid idea, but who's laughing now?" you say as you whacked the ghost again. | I remember one of my first exorcist classes, such a funny thing, an "exorcist class" a part of me fully expected to practice with actual possessed people like in medical school. I was relieved when on my first day most of it was about how to spot a fake case through the use of sheer logic and science. I was a devout catholic but even I had my limits about the supernatural, that being said when we finally reached the part of defeating a supernatural existence we were pushed constantly of getting creative with our methods. The use of a ventilator combined with flour so we could detect the erratic movement of the particles? Sure. Use a recording of a man reading every versicle on the article to excorcise at 5x speed and a recording that detected anomalies for when the entity got pissed? Go ahead. Use a humidifier that uses blessed water as it source 24/7 to prevent any entity of getting stronger? Fuck it, just do it. The use of technology allowed most of the students to get creative. So when I made my suggestion I didn't expect such an adverse reaction from my peers.
-You wanna hit him with a bat?
-Covered in salt sir.
- And how do you exactly are gonna do it?
- By...glueing it sir...- I was speaking slowly as I thought that it was such a blatantly obvious concept that I fully expected to be told that it was already done in a much more ingenious way.
Alex, one of the most active students, mockingly responded
- What ya gonna do? Bash it's skull into the next after life?- he joked while the rest of the class laughed.
-Maybe he wants to crush his nuts and play ball. - responded Erik, and this time even the teacher laughed.
-Well you said that sometimes the entities like to get ... physical, and well since we know that entities avoid salt since they can touch it wether they want it or not, why not FORCE them to be touched, by using kinectic force.
The teacher placed a more stern look this time.
- Listen David I do believe in finding creative ways of contacting a spirit, but in this particular case I believe the mentality of being confrontational is simply a little bit ridiculous if I may say so myself, you have the proper mentality you simply need to focus it in another way.
A part of myself felt pissed that day, I still remember it even now. They lacked vision.
I liked baseball you know? I had a strong swing even as a child. So when I gave the first swing into the entity that threw itself at me, feeling a solid hit as well as a painful screech gave me a huge sense of satisfaction, thanks to the use of the ventilated flour and the recording of the versicles, the creature was pissed and I was able to visualize the direction of it's movements. So I waited and I swinged, I remember the joke of Erik while I was doing it, because hitting him in the nuts probably was the best idea that came out of that class that day. | Rivulets of sweat rolled down my back as I crashed through the undergrowth. I tightened my grip on the slick handle of the bat feeling my hand ringing with the shock of the last blow. I was not sure what to expect when I swung at the ghost, but when the bat made contact it was solid, heavy, and very satisfying. I had crept up through the brush being careful to avoid the orange glow coming from within the clearing. After so many months of being hunted by the pale spirits my time had finally come to turn the tables. Unfortunately, I did not get the chance for a second swing before it let out a terrible howl and the other phantoms in the glen swarmed towards me.
I was outnumbered, but not outsmarted. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw the terrible shapes falling further behind and hid behind the trunk of a tree. My hands shook so much that I nearly dropped the glue as took it out, my drenched shirt sticking to my skin. I hastily rubbed the glue on the handle, wringing it in my hands before I took out the next, most crucial ingredient. With the blood roaring in my ears, I rose and waited. As soon as I saw the sliver of white appear around the trunk I stepped and swung, hard. The hit made contact with another satisfying crack and the pointed white cap tumbled to the forest floor followed by a muffled screech. I crouched down and licked the gritty crusted bat. They said that gluing salts to a baseball bat to fight ghosts was a stupid idea, but who's laughing now? I gave the writhing ghost another satisfying whack before taking off into the darkness. | |
[WP] "They said that gluing salt to a baseball bat to fight ghosts was a stupid idea, but who's laughing now?" you say as you whacked the ghost again. | I remember one of my first exorcist classes, such a funny thing, an "exorcist class" a part of me fully expected to practice with actual possessed people like in medical school. I was relieved when on my first day most of it was about how to spot a fake case through the use of sheer logic and science. I was a devout catholic but even I had my limits about the supernatural, that being said when we finally reached the part of defeating a supernatural existence we were pushed constantly of getting creative with our methods. The use of a ventilator combined with flour so we could detect the erratic movement of the particles? Sure. Use a recording of a man reading every versicle on the article to excorcise at 5x speed and a recording that detected anomalies for when the entity got pissed? Go ahead. Use a humidifier that uses blessed water as it source 24/7 to prevent any entity of getting stronger? Fuck it, just do it. The use of technology allowed most of the students to get creative. So when I made my suggestion I didn't expect such an adverse reaction from my peers.
-You wanna hit him with a bat?
-Covered in salt sir.
- And how do you exactly are gonna do it?
- By...glueing it sir...- I was speaking slowly as I thought that it was such a blatantly obvious concept that I fully expected to be told that it was already done in a much more ingenious way.
Alex, one of the most active students, mockingly responded
- What ya gonna do? Bash it's skull into the next after life?- he joked while the rest of the class laughed.
-Maybe he wants to crush his nuts and play ball. - responded Erik, and this time even the teacher laughed.
-Well you said that sometimes the entities like to get ... physical, and well since we know that entities avoid salt since they can touch it wether they want it or not, why not FORCE them to be touched, by using kinectic force.
The teacher placed a more stern look this time.
- Listen David I do believe in finding creative ways of contacting a spirit, but in this particular case I believe the mentality of being confrontational is simply a little bit ridiculous if I may say so myself, you have the proper mentality you simply need to focus it in another way.
A part of myself felt pissed that day, I still remember it even now. They lacked vision.
I liked baseball you know? I had a strong swing even as a child. So when I gave the first swing into the entity that threw itself at me, feeling a solid hit as well as a painful screech gave me a huge sense of satisfaction, thanks to the use of the ventilated flour and the recording of the versicles, the creature was pissed and I was able to visualize the direction of it's movements. So I waited and I swinged, I remember the joke of Erik while I was doing it, because hitting him in the nuts probably was the best idea that came out of that class that day. | *clang......*Clang*.....
My eyes snap open. I'm staring at exposed pipes that run the width of my bedroom ceiling.
*CLANG*
I roll over to look at my phone.
3am.... like friggin clockwork.
The bed is empty next to me. My wife is still gone. Friggin call at the hospital.
I check my messages.
From: Holly
@2:45 hey babe, I have 3 more patients to scan one kid has a suspected pyloric stenosis and some 300 lb woman who has abdominal cramping. My shoulder hurts from scanning & I'm so tired I want to cry. I feel like I never sleep anymore. I am just going to stay at the clinic until my shift. Maybe we can get lunch. Sleep tight. 😘😓
Jesus....
Here I am bitching about not sleeping, but she's got it worse than me. Between her having Radiology call 2x a week and all the noise here.... I don't know how she's doing it.
At this point I'm wide awake. And I'm pissed. No one makes my wife miserable except me and my antics.
I take a dump and make some coffee.
While I'm brewing, I do some googling. Turns out this building used to be a warehouse and factory where they made grandfather clocks during the civil war. Because of all the smelting and brass that was in production the building was sized by the Union, and the workers, who were confederate sympathizers held up in the building. The siege was only about 24 hours but intense leaving all 70 confederates dead.
The wiki article documented a man named Charles "Clockwork" Riverdash, a plantation owner and artificer who "rang a great bell every hour to encourage his compatriots and confer ire to the yankie dogs. A reminder that so long as the bell would ring they would fight on." Beside the article was the photo of a gigantic bell that had been melted down into plumbing for the ironworks to be repaired quickly.
"Hmm... I'm guessing these pipes, at least some of them, must be original."
The story continued "Clockwork was said to be the most timely gentleman in the commonwealth as he owned a 16th century pocket watch of remarkable value. The watch was never recovered after the raid. It's suspected he destroyed it so the union couldn't sell it."
3:40am...
20 mins and I will hear it again. But this time it's going to be different. I light third eye incense and rip a pre-roll. I need to be able to "see"/sense my enemy. I need a weapon.....
In the corner next to my workbench, I see my steel Louisville slugger. *Maybe.... I whip out the Google box. "How to kill a ghost with a baseball bat." (Presses "I'm feeling lucky".) {Did I really just query that? Jesus I'm stoned.}
The search result is great. It shows a guy in a tinfoil hat using high grit sandpaper on a bat to score it and rolling it in salt to (and I quote) "beat down those libtard ghosts! Smash anything they got on em, books, food, tools whatever they got smash em, they ain't alive to know better, mamma always said they all had anchors". The comments are brutal: simplord69 "Gluing salt to a baseball bat to fight ghosts is stupid idea."
I disagree simplord. Politics aside, the tinfoil-hat man knows what he's onto, he has conviction and I like conviction. You need conviction to get Medievil on a poltergeist.
3:57 and my sanding is looking great. We got deep groves filled to the brim with kosher. I take another hit of the spliff & tie back my hair.
3:59 - amid the Third Eye incense, weak light and pot smoke a figure ripples, feint and silvery. It slips through the closed front door and into the bedroom. It's a large figure. Heavier in the belly region than I imagined, but the shape and form are mostly undefined.
The clock flicks 4. And as it raises it's ghastly arm to strike the pipe on the ceiling, I do my best Barry Bonds swing and crack the ghost in the side with the bat. I expected to feel like hitting air, but it was like hitting thick jello and made a sound as such. As the bat sliced through, it's form it became more visible. It was a portly hairy looking man, with a receding hairline and a bushy mustache. It had a vest with no shirt. It was holding a hammer in one hand and a pocket watch, which was chained to the vest in the other. It's eyes were brimming with a mix of confusion anger and fear.
It opened it's jaw to roar, but before it could get it out, I swung again. This time it sounded like Babe Ruth was in the house. *clang* The ghost felt the full weight of the bat and fell to the ground in a heap. It's jaw hung uselessly and odd.
"You like keeping people up you sonofabitch?!" I reared back like Tiger Woods at the driving range. *Clang* the bat sung like angels as it connected with the Clockwork Ghosts arm as it tried to block. The arm broke at the wrist flopping over at a gross angle.
"They said that gluing salt to a baseball bat to fight ghosts was a stupid idea, but who's laughing now?" I yelled in maniacal glee, a little spittle dripping from my lip. I took another crack at the creature. This time the spirit took the strike in the temple. And it's unbroken hand loosed the watch which fell to the hardwood floor.
"See, where you fucked up is, you are too predictable. (Heavy breathing) You are too punctual old boy." I said with fury. Rasing the bat for another strike. This time I aimed at the pocket watch that had fallen on the ground beside him. The bat landed with a glassy steely "CRUNCH". As the watch fractured, the ghosts eyes rolled to the back of its head, started to wisp away.
"I hope this was a wake-up call for you." I chortled as I took my last swing. *CLANG* a clean hit to the mid section and the ghost crumbled into silvery dust that blew around the room in a great wind and disappeared.
I haven't had an issue since. Maybe violence does solve a problem or two. 😏 | |
[WP] "They said that gluing salt to a baseball bat to fight ghosts was a stupid idea, but who's laughing now?" you say as you whacked the ghost again. | I remember one of my first exorcist classes, such a funny thing, an "exorcist class" a part of me fully expected to practice with actual possessed people like in medical school. I was relieved when on my first day most of it was about how to spot a fake case through the use of sheer logic and science. I was a devout catholic but even I had my limits about the supernatural, that being said when we finally reached the part of defeating a supernatural existence we were pushed constantly of getting creative with our methods. The use of a ventilator combined with flour so we could detect the erratic movement of the particles? Sure. Use a recording of a man reading every versicle on the article to excorcise at 5x speed and a recording that detected anomalies for when the entity got pissed? Go ahead. Use a humidifier that uses blessed water as it source 24/7 to prevent any entity of getting stronger? Fuck it, just do it. The use of technology allowed most of the students to get creative. So when I made my suggestion I didn't expect such an adverse reaction from my peers.
-You wanna hit him with a bat?
-Covered in salt sir.
- And how do you exactly are gonna do it?
- By...glueing it sir...- I was speaking slowly as I thought that it was such a blatantly obvious concept that I fully expected to be told that it was already done in a much more ingenious way.
Alex, one of the most active students, mockingly responded
- What ya gonna do? Bash it's skull into the next after life?- he joked while the rest of the class laughed.
-Maybe he wants to crush his nuts and play ball. - responded Erik, and this time even the teacher laughed.
-Well you said that sometimes the entities like to get ... physical, and well since we know that entities avoid salt since they can touch it wether they want it or not, why not FORCE them to be touched, by using kinectic force.
The teacher placed a more stern look this time.
- Listen David I do believe in finding creative ways of contacting a spirit, but in this particular case I believe the mentality of being confrontational is simply a little bit ridiculous if I may say so myself, you have the proper mentality you simply need to focus it in another way.
A part of myself felt pissed that day, I still remember it even now. They lacked vision.
I liked baseball you know? I had a strong swing even as a child. So when I gave the first swing into the entity that threw itself at me, feeling a solid hit as well as a painful screech gave me a huge sense of satisfaction, thanks to the use of the ventilated flour and the recording of the versicles, the creature was pissed and I was able to visualize the direction of it's movements. So I waited and I swinged, I remember the joke of Erik while I was doing it, because hitting him in the nuts probably was the best idea that came out of that class that day. | The slow rattling pierced the halls of the hospital again. Tac, tac, tac. The sound came out hollow, but felt closer and closer. Oswald shivered in his boots, hiding, bunched up in the corner of a ward, the curtain and gloom obscuring him from sight. Tac, tac, tac. The bump of the noise came ringing out closer and closer, until it stopped. Oswald began praying to whatever greater power would have him. A small eternity passed. Another right after it. And then the sound started to move away from him. Tac, tac, tac. Oswald began to breathe a sigh of relief, and began to rise in his seated stance, every so slowly. The curtain was ripped violently away, and the bruises along Oswalds cold flesh began to scream again. "There you are you ghost son of a bitch". Three strikes, and Oswald was out cold. | |
[WP] "They said that gluing salt to a baseball bat to fight ghosts was a stupid idea, but who's laughing now?" you say as you whacked the ghost again. | "They laughed at me! Told me I was wasting my time but look what I've caught" I said whist swinging my beautiful salted bat in a wide arc that ended with a crunching thud on the side of the ghost head.
"Please.. stop. For the love of God I keep telling you I'm an albino not a ghost. Fuck!" The ghost moaned as it spat blood onto the floor, pink spittle hanging off it's porcelain chin.
How strange, ghosts don't usually bleed, they do moan though. "One out of 2 is good enough for me" I laughed.
"W-what? Please don't, I've never hurt a-"
I didn't give it a chance to finish it's evil cantation . I squared my shoulders, renewed my grip, and swang one last time. There will no no more hauntings in this ward anymore. | The slow rattling pierced the halls of the hospital again. Tac, tac, tac. The sound came out hollow, but felt closer and closer. Oswald shivered in his boots, hiding, bunched up in the corner of a ward, the curtain and gloom obscuring him from sight. Tac, tac, tac. The bump of the noise came ringing out closer and closer, until it stopped. Oswald began praying to whatever greater power would have him. A small eternity passed. Another right after it. And then the sound started to move away from him. Tac, tac, tac. Oswald began to breathe a sigh of relief, and began to rise in his seated stance, every so slowly. The curtain was ripped violently away, and the bruises along Oswalds cold flesh began to scream again. "There you are you ghost son of a bitch". Three strikes, and Oswald was out cold. | |
[WP] "They said that gluing salt to a baseball bat to fight ghosts was a stupid idea, but who's laughing now?" you say as you whacked the ghost again. | Swear to God I don't know how I would up working for Tremblien. I used to be what you'd call a ghostbreaker, a skeptic, a professional debunker. Was on TV and everything. America's Most Haunted. Charles Kovacs was a household name- okay, small households. But it turned out there were small towns who didn't like having their only tourist attractions crapped on, and a lot of them had lawyers and some of those lawyers were better than anyone could afford, and the show's heyday was past so the producers didn't think I was worth the trouble. So Most Haunted got gutted and Charlie Kovacs got tossed out on his ass. All the bad press, and, well, some of the drinking, had a lot of networks unwilling to touch me. Even with a decent background in science journalism the best I could do was follow UFO sightings for a crappy tabloid, now that was irony.
In the end, I got taken in by Thaddeus Tremblien, one of the world's most famous paranormal investigators, which was still some rich irony but at least it paid surprisingly better. Clients came to his office complaining about ghosts and witches and all kinds of nonsense, and I got paid to do the legwork. Better than being broke, but ungrateful as it seemed, some cases were just... eesh.
\*\*\*
"The house has been in my wife's family for generations," said Mr. Borley, a thin, sweaty, balding man who rocked back and forth as he talked. "And I am quite sure the rumors about it are true. The place is most assuredly haunted."
I took notes diligently (well, sort of) while Tremblien leaned back behind his desk and listened, hands steepled. He always looked to me like Vincent Price retired and put on weight, but he was sharper than he looked and took everything seriously.
Borley ranted on. "Since we began renovations there have been nothing but unexplained accidents, machine failures of the most improbable kind, injuries. And dogs won't go near the place! And, of course, there's the legend-" Aaaand there we go. I tried not to scoff about the 'unexplained' bit. Far as I'm concerned that's a word that means 'easily explained by non-morons'- "the legend of Dr. Battyscombe, who went on a killing spree nearly two centuries ago when the house was briefly converted into an insane asylum. Many on the construction crew swear they've seen a ghostly figure dressed like an old-time doctor- their words, I'm afraid..."
He went on. Tremblien nodded at the right times, I managed not to laugh. In the end we agreed to take the case, a retainer exchanged hands, there was lots of stumbling and thanking as the new client left the office.
Tremblien spoke, in his voice- deep, cultured, good for theater; "And what did you make of our new client's case, Mr. Kovacs?" He pronounced my name the "right" way, the Hungarian way- KoVACH. I didn't, but it didn't really bother me much.
I shrugged. "Most likely Borley wants to cash in on the place's reputation- I dunno, make it a hotel or something- and he hopes if he has someone like us check it out we'll add credibility."
"Mm." He always did that. "Then you discount offhand the possibility that something genuinely supernatural may be at work in the old house."
"It's been nearly a year, boss. You can't possibly be surprised by that."
Tremblien raised his weird, pointy eyebrows and shrugged. "Nonetheless, we have a contract, and as you are the employee, I am sending you to this house to inspect for any possibility of untoward spiritual presence."
"Fine by me," I murmured. Pay's pay, but you gotta earn it.
"And for this job... yes, I believe I shall call Dr. Randi and Mr. Helstrand to accompany you."
"You can just come out and say that you hate me, you know."
\*\*\*
Saida Randi was from Columbia University's parapsychology department, which, unbelievably, exists. Somewhere out there you can get a degree in hunting ghosts and sticking electrodes to someone's head while they guess what card you're holding, and apparently that's what Dr. Randi did Adrian Helstrand was Scandinavian about the size of an ox; studied theology and supposedly had whatever qualifications the Catholic Church required to call yourself an exorcist. I couldn't tell if they were both total crackpots or just kayfabing, but the point is talking to them tends to give a bit of a headache.
"What... what is that?" I said, trying to stop my head from exploding.
Randi looked confused at the ring of candles and star of circuitry she'd built around some old car batteries. "An electric pentacle, of the sort suggested by Carnacki's guidelines-"
"You can't be serious."
"It works entirely by scientific principle, binding spiritual essence in one place-"
"Please. Stop."
Helstrand was spreading salt everywhere. "I agree with Kovacs. Such is not necessary. Simple salt will stop any evil spirit-"
"I think you've misunderstood the nature of my objection," I said drily.
Helstrand looked hurt. "The salt will work. It has been used in funerary rights across the world as a material symbol of the spirit world. In fact, we all should-"
"Fine, fine," I interrupted. I pulled some Elmer's glue out of my coat pocket and grabbed the nightstick I brought on cases for self-defense, then swiped one of his salt cans from the nearby table. In a second I'd glued an uneven layer of salt particles to the stick. "There, I made a ghost swatter. That ought to work, right?"
Randi looked at me and pursed her lips. "If you insist on treating this matter in so lackadaisical a matter, I'm not sure what your purpose here even is. At least you could stop undermining our methods."
"My purpose here is I'm hired to be here. I don't believe in ghosts but if they did exist you sure as hell couldn't fight them with salt and car batteries."
"We shall see."
Well, that blew my chance of making friends on this assignment. I was usually a lot better about keeping my cool- believe me, I know I'm an asshole, but I try not to show it off. It was something about this old house. Nothing was properly lit, there were a dozen drafts that seemed to come from nowhere, and the doors all seemed oddly slanted off center, not to mention the architectural style was from five hundred years ago and wasn't exactly trendy even then. The whole place was like the Cabin of Dr. Caligari. If Borley was right and it'd been an insane asylum once, I couldn't see it being too easy on the patients. | My arms throbbed. All I could see was shattered glass and torn wallpaper, and it didn’t matter where I looked. And then I closed my eyes, and the sound of ghosts flooded my senses.
&#x200B;
My hands felt rough. I plucked the opened bottle of glue from the carpet and quickly examined the label. The words moved and became blurred as I read them. Tossing the bottle aside, I stumbled through a sea of salt and glass and made my way outside.
&#x200B;
The light hurt my eyes. I reached into my pocket and pulled out two green pills. I felt confused.
&#x200B;
“Good Morning!” A distant voice exclaimed. “I heard a commotion coming from your room just now. Is everything okay?” She sounded concerned.
&#x200B;
“Yes, everything is fine.” I said this to her plainly. I walked back inside and I instinctively dry swallowed the pills in my hand. I sat down on an overturned piece of furniture and closed my eyes.
&#x200B;
All I could feel was my arms throb. I closed my eyes and felt calmer. “That’s better,” I said to myself softly. | |
[WP] "They said that gluing salt to a baseball bat to fight ghosts was a stupid idea, but who's laughing now?" you say as you whacked the ghost again. | The bat made a satisfying thunk as it struck home. The ghost fell over, I was surprised to see the apparition had legs, and what's more they were clad in blue jeans and combat boots. I struck a knee.
The ghost howled in pain, lifting a chubby hand to protect itself. "Stop!" It shouted. "What are you doing?"
I took in the pale form, more opaque than I had ever imagined but I knew enough about ghosts to know one when I saw one. "I'm ghost busting."
"What the hell?" It shouted scooching away from me. "I'm not a ghost you idiot! It's a hood!"
"That's just what a ghost would say, but grandpappy taught that salt is like fire to your kind, so when I saw you sneaking across the field I knew just what to do." Another satisfying impact. I really got my weight into it.
When it could breathe again it struggled to sit. "You're a fucking idiot! You see this? You know what this means?" It pointed to a crimson symbol branded onto the snowy form.
"It means your spirit won't be free until that symbol is gone." I drove the bat into the symbol, once, twice, and there was the sound of breaking bones the third time. "And I don't take kindly to you departed making trouble for the neighbors. But fear not, spirit, for I'll soon be sending you upon your way."
"You're protecting the ni..." I cut him off with a blow between the eyes. Then another. And another. Eight, maybe ten times. The spirit had moved on, and would trouble the living no longer. | My arms throbbed. All I could see was shattered glass and torn wallpaper, and it didn’t matter where I looked. And then I closed my eyes, and the sound of ghosts flooded my senses.
&#x200B;
My hands felt rough. I plucked the opened bottle of glue from the carpet and quickly examined the label. The words moved and became blurred as I read them. Tossing the bottle aside, I stumbled through a sea of salt and glass and made my way outside.
&#x200B;
The light hurt my eyes. I reached into my pocket and pulled out two green pills. I felt confused.
&#x200B;
“Good Morning!” A distant voice exclaimed. “I heard a commotion coming from your room just now. Is everything okay?” She sounded concerned.
&#x200B;
“Yes, everything is fine.” I said this to her plainly. I walked back inside and I instinctively dry swallowed the pills in my hand. I sat down on an overturned piece of furniture and closed my eyes.
&#x200B;
All I could feel was my arms throb. I closed my eyes and felt calmer. “That’s better,” I said to myself softly. | |
[WP] "They said that gluing salt to a baseball bat to fight ghosts was a stupid idea, but who's laughing now?" you say as you whacked the ghost again. | As I made it to the driveway, Caroline appeared behind the screen door. "Salt? Why would the salt make a difference?" she asked. She knotted her hair into a bun on top of her head. "How is that any better than the bat by itself?" Her nose scrunched up like a rabbit's when she was confused.
"Puns." I shouted back, loading the salt-covered bat and rucksack into the bed of the truck.
Caroline was even more befuddled now. I love that woman, but she isn't exactly the brightest bulb.The comedy writers who govern our universe went overboard sometimes. The logic is still a bit hazy to some, but it immediately made sense to me.
Stepping back out onto the porch, Caroline held her hand up to shield her eyes from the low sun. "Puns? I don't follow." She had to holler the last word, interrupted as I fired up the engine.
I backed out of the driveway, shifted into drive, and carved a wide half-circle to meet her gaze from the street.
I took a long breath before replying, drinking in the sight of her. I wasn't sure if I'd make it back. "Yeah. Puns. Ghosts can't defend against them. It's not just *bat-tery*. That might not be enough. This way, they won't survive being *a-salted* ". | My arms throbbed. All I could see was shattered glass and torn wallpaper, and it didn’t matter where I looked. And then I closed my eyes, and the sound of ghosts flooded my senses.
&#x200B;
My hands felt rough. I plucked the opened bottle of glue from the carpet and quickly examined the label. The words moved and became blurred as I read them. Tossing the bottle aside, I stumbled through a sea of salt and glass and made my way outside.
&#x200B;
The light hurt my eyes. I reached into my pocket and pulled out two green pills. I felt confused.
&#x200B;
“Good Morning!” A distant voice exclaimed. “I heard a commotion coming from your room just now. Is everything okay?” She sounded concerned.
&#x200B;
“Yes, everything is fine.” I said this to her plainly. I walked back inside and I instinctively dry swallowed the pills in my hand. I sat down on an overturned piece of furniture and closed my eyes.
&#x200B;
All I could feel was my arms throb. I closed my eyes and felt calmer. “That’s better,” I said to myself softly. | |
[WP] "They said that gluing salt to a baseball bat to fight ghosts was a stupid idea, but who's laughing now?" you say as you whacked the ghost again. | >**APPARITIONS AND APATHY**
"The *salt doesn't matter* and *stop that, it hurts!*" Screamed the ghost as I thrashed him.
"W-wait, but, the salt."
"The *bat is what hurts, idiot!*"
"But my priest said that consecrated salt-"
"That *myth* was invented so dumb teenagers would stop picking fights with ghosts!" The ghost said, glaring at me with its partially translucent visage.
"Oh." I lowered my bat.
"Now, luckily for you, I'm haunting you for a *good* reason. A *positive* reason. But if you hit me with that bat again, it's gonna become a *bad* haunting."
"W-why are you haunting me at all?"
The ghost looked away. "Your grandfather."
"Grandpa? He died, like, a month ago. You're not him, though!"
"No, I definitely am not. Nor was your grandfather a ghost. However, as he lay in the space between the worlds, he talked with me. Once upon a time, I was a very angry human. Life had been hard on me, and I took that frustration out on everyone I came across. When I died in the hospital, I terrorized the nurses as a spirit- I'd been there for months. Until your grandfather spoke with me, and...something about him."
"Was he chewing on straw? He was always chewing on straw in real life."
The ghost chuckled. "Yes, he was. He was dressed as a farmer, and his air was so...peaceful. Yet he told me he had had a hard life, too. So I asked him why he was how he was, why he wasn't like me."
"What did he say?"
"He said it was his grandson."
Tears began to sting my eyes.
"Though he had lost a lot of peace of mind in the war, and he lost his son early to cancer- he had you. His grandson. And he knew that if he kept the hate in his heart, it would pass to you. He told me something similar. So, I told him I'd keep an eye on you. But I'm not very good at being *quiet* with my energy- I always used it aggressively, tossing books off the shelves in the mere wake of my energy, that kind of thing."
"Yeah, speaking of..." I said, picking up my school binders.
A note fell out of the binder. It was written in red ink, pressed so hard against the paper there were tears running in the fabric.
More hate mail. I wasn't popular at school.
The ghost did not fail to notice. "Oh, good. You're being bullied, aren't you?"
"Why is that a good thing?!" I demanded incredulously. "Yes, I'm being bullied, because grandpa paid for me to attend this stupid fancy rich kid school and I don't fit in, and they keep telling me to leave." Unbalanced by the talk of Grandpa's death, I was letting everything spill out. Usually I was...quieter about these things.
"Here's why it's good; I'm not gifted at being subtle or gentle. I may not be able to help you get your first girlfriend, or be at your side for your first heartbreak. I mean, I'll try, but I'll be garbage at it."
The ghost went over to the hateful letter.
"But this? This I can *fix*."
r/nystorm_writes | My arms throbbed. All I could see was shattered glass and torn wallpaper, and it didn’t matter where I looked. And then I closed my eyes, and the sound of ghosts flooded my senses.
&#x200B;
My hands felt rough. I plucked the opened bottle of glue from the carpet and quickly examined the label. The words moved and became blurred as I read them. Tossing the bottle aside, I stumbled through a sea of salt and glass and made my way outside.
&#x200B;
The light hurt my eyes. I reached into my pocket and pulled out two green pills. I felt confused.
&#x200B;
“Good Morning!” A distant voice exclaimed. “I heard a commotion coming from your room just now. Is everything okay?” She sounded concerned.
&#x200B;
“Yes, everything is fine.” I said this to her plainly. I walked back inside and I instinctively dry swallowed the pills in my hand. I sat down on an overturned piece of furniture and closed my eyes.
&#x200B;
All I could feel was my arms throb. I closed my eyes and felt calmer. “That’s better,” I said to myself softly. | |
[WP] "They said that gluing salt to a baseball bat to fight ghosts was a stupid idea, but who's laughing now?" you say as you whacked the ghost again. | As I made it to the driveway, Caroline appeared behind the screen door. "Salt? Why would the salt make a difference?" she asked. She knotted her hair into a bun on top of her head. "How is that any better than the bat by itself?" Her nose scrunched up like a rabbit's when she was confused.
"Puns." I shouted back, loading the salt-covered bat and rucksack into the bed of the truck.
Caroline was even more befuddled now. I love that woman, but she isn't exactly the brightest bulb.The comedy writers who govern our universe went overboard sometimes. The logic is still a bit hazy to some, but it immediately made sense to me.
Stepping back out onto the porch, Caroline held her hand up to shield her eyes from the low sun. "Puns? I don't follow." She had to holler the last word, interrupted as I fired up the engine.
I backed out of the driveway, shifted into drive, and carved a wide half-circle to meet her gaze from the street.
I took a long breath before replying, drinking in the sight of her. I wasn't sure if I'd make it back. "Yeah. Puns. Ghosts can't defend against them. It's not just *bat-tery*. That might not be enough. This way, they won't survive being *a-salted* ". | The bat made a satisfying thunk as it struck home. The ghost fell over, I was surprised to see the apparition had legs, and what's more they were clad in blue jeans and combat boots. I struck a knee.
The ghost howled in pain, lifting a chubby hand to protect itself. "Stop!" It shouted. "What are you doing?"
I took in the pale form, more opaque than I had ever imagined but I knew enough about ghosts to know one when I saw one. "I'm ghost busting."
"What the hell?" It shouted scooching away from me. "I'm not a ghost you idiot! It's a hood!"
"That's just what a ghost would say, but grandpappy taught that salt is like fire to your kind, so when I saw you sneaking across the field I knew just what to do." Another satisfying impact. I really got my weight into it.
When it could breathe again it struggled to sit. "You're a fucking idiot! You see this? You know what this means?" It pointed to a crimson symbol branded onto the snowy form.
"It means your spirit won't be free until that symbol is gone." I drove the bat into the symbol, once, twice, and there was the sound of breaking bones the third time. "And I don't take kindly to you departed making trouble for the neighbors. But fear not, spirit, for I'll soon be sending you upon your way."
"You're protecting the ni..." I cut him off with a blow between the eyes. Then another. And another. Eight, maybe ten times. The spirit had moved on, and would trouble the living no longer. | |
[WP] "They said that gluing salt to a baseball bat to fight ghosts was a stupid idea, but who's laughing now?" you say as you whacked the ghost again. | >**APPARITIONS AND APATHY**
"The *salt doesn't matter* and *stop that, it hurts!*" Screamed the ghost as I thrashed him.
"W-wait, but, the salt."
"The *bat is what hurts, idiot!*"
"But my priest said that consecrated salt-"
"That *myth* was invented so dumb teenagers would stop picking fights with ghosts!" The ghost said, glaring at me with its partially translucent visage.
"Oh." I lowered my bat.
"Now, luckily for you, I'm haunting you for a *good* reason. A *positive* reason. But if you hit me with that bat again, it's gonna become a *bad* haunting."
"W-why are you haunting me at all?"
The ghost looked away. "Your grandfather."
"Grandpa? He died, like, a month ago. You're not him, though!"
"No, I definitely am not. Nor was your grandfather a ghost. However, as he lay in the space between the worlds, he talked with me. Once upon a time, I was a very angry human. Life had been hard on me, and I took that frustration out on everyone I came across. When I died in the hospital, I terrorized the nurses as a spirit- I'd been there for months. Until your grandfather spoke with me, and...something about him."
"Was he chewing on straw? He was always chewing on straw in real life."
The ghost chuckled. "Yes, he was. He was dressed as a farmer, and his air was so...peaceful. Yet he told me he had had a hard life, too. So I asked him why he was how he was, why he wasn't like me."
"What did he say?"
"He said it was his grandson."
Tears began to sting my eyes.
"Though he had lost a lot of peace of mind in the war, and he lost his son early to cancer- he had you. His grandson. And he knew that if he kept the hate in his heart, it would pass to you. He told me something similar. So, I told him I'd keep an eye on you. But I'm not very good at being *quiet* with my energy- I always used it aggressively, tossing books off the shelves in the mere wake of my energy, that kind of thing."
"Yeah, speaking of..." I said, picking up my school binders.
A note fell out of the binder. It was written in red ink, pressed so hard against the paper there were tears running in the fabric.
More hate mail. I wasn't popular at school.
The ghost did not fail to notice. "Oh, good. You're being bullied, aren't you?"
"Why is that a good thing?!" I demanded incredulously. "Yes, I'm being bullied, because grandpa paid for me to attend this stupid fancy rich kid school and I don't fit in, and they keep telling me to leave." Unbalanced by the talk of Grandpa's death, I was letting everything spill out. Usually I was...quieter about these things.
"Here's why it's good; I'm not gifted at being subtle or gentle. I may not be able to help you get your first girlfriend, or be at your side for your first heartbreak. I mean, I'll try, but I'll be garbage at it."
The ghost went over to the hateful letter.
"But this? This I can *fix*."
r/nystorm_writes | The bat made a satisfying thunk as it struck home. The ghost fell over, I was surprised to see the apparition had legs, and what's more they were clad in blue jeans and combat boots. I struck a knee.
The ghost howled in pain, lifting a chubby hand to protect itself. "Stop!" It shouted. "What are you doing?"
I took in the pale form, more opaque than I had ever imagined but I knew enough about ghosts to know one when I saw one. "I'm ghost busting."
"What the hell?" It shouted scooching away from me. "I'm not a ghost you idiot! It's a hood!"
"That's just what a ghost would say, but grandpappy taught that salt is like fire to your kind, so when I saw you sneaking across the field I knew just what to do." Another satisfying impact. I really got my weight into it.
When it could breathe again it struggled to sit. "You're a fucking idiot! You see this? You know what this means?" It pointed to a crimson symbol branded onto the snowy form.
"It means your spirit won't be free until that symbol is gone." I drove the bat into the symbol, once, twice, and there was the sound of breaking bones the third time. "And I don't take kindly to you departed making trouble for the neighbors. But fear not, spirit, for I'll soon be sending you upon your way."
"You're protecting the ni..." I cut him off with a blow between the eyes. Then another. And another. Eight, maybe ten times. The spirit had moved on, and would trouble the living no longer. | |
[WP] "They said that gluing salt to a baseball bat to fight ghosts was a stupid idea, but who's laughing now?" you say as you whacked the ghost again. | >**APPARITIONS AND APATHY**
"The *salt doesn't matter* and *stop that, it hurts!*" Screamed the ghost as I thrashed him.
"W-wait, but, the salt."
"The *bat is what hurts, idiot!*"
"But my priest said that consecrated salt-"
"That *myth* was invented so dumb teenagers would stop picking fights with ghosts!" The ghost said, glaring at me with its partially translucent visage.
"Oh." I lowered my bat.
"Now, luckily for you, I'm haunting you for a *good* reason. A *positive* reason. But if you hit me with that bat again, it's gonna become a *bad* haunting."
"W-why are you haunting me at all?"
The ghost looked away. "Your grandfather."
"Grandpa? He died, like, a month ago. You're not him, though!"
"No, I definitely am not. Nor was your grandfather a ghost. However, as he lay in the space between the worlds, he talked with me. Once upon a time, I was a very angry human. Life had been hard on me, and I took that frustration out on everyone I came across. When I died in the hospital, I terrorized the nurses as a spirit- I'd been there for months. Until your grandfather spoke with me, and...something about him."
"Was he chewing on straw? He was always chewing on straw in real life."
The ghost chuckled. "Yes, he was. He was dressed as a farmer, and his air was so...peaceful. Yet he told me he had had a hard life, too. So I asked him why he was how he was, why he wasn't like me."
"What did he say?"
"He said it was his grandson."
Tears began to sting my eyes.
"Though he had lost a lot of peace of mind in the war, and he lost his son early to cancer- he had you. His grandson. And he knew that if he kept the hate in his heart, it would pass to you. He told me something similar. So, I told him I'd keep an eye on you. But I'm not very good at being *quiet* with my energy- I always used it aggressively, tossing books off the shelves in the mere wake of my energy, that kind of thing."
"Yeah, speaking of..." I said, picking up my school binders.
A note fell out of the binder. It was written in red ink, pressed so hard against the paper there were tears running in the fabric.
More hate mail. I wasn't popular at school.
The ghost did not fail to notice. "Oh, good. You're being bullied, aren't you?"
"Why is that a good thing?!" I demanded incredulously. "Yes, I'm being bullied, because grandpa paid for me to attend this stupid fancy rich kid school and I don't fit in, and they keep telling me to leave." Unbalanced by the talk of Grandpa's death, I was letting everything spill out. Usually I was...quieter about these things.
"Here's why it's good; I'm not gifted at being subtle or gentle. I may not be able to help you get your first girlfriend, or be at your side for your first heartbreak. I mean, I'll try, but I'll be garbage at it."
The ghost went over to the hateful letter.
"But this? This I can *fix*."
r/nystorm_writes | The Dead Sea dried to bleach-bone sand and the spirits burst from their tomb. It was almost expected. The whole world was burning: The Amazon had long turned to desert, the polar caps melted to ice-cube memories, the permafrost woken from its millennial slumber.
It was a cold year. The work was hard and the soil unreceptive. We spent time digging. Trenches, tunnels, cities. Burrowed deep into the earth in search of freshwater aquifers, in search of cooler climates and habitable subfloors, in search of a new life.
The surface was gone, condemned, green haze over a poisoned sky. My life was poison: Toxic fumes from the diesel belching borer’s, mud sprayed with jet-pump diggers, long hours with no relief. It reeked. The whole tunnel smelled like men and sweat and the inescapable staleness of purified air. Fourteen-hundred feet beneath Boston we labored to carve out a new life in the ruins of soil and memories.
I hated that.
And for what? An uncertain future, a drink at the end of a long day, a touch on the shoulder, the groan, and squelch of air mattresses. But there was nothing pleasurable about this. We were all going through the motions. Just hanging on. Just praying that someone else could fix this goliath of a hole we had dug for ourselves.
So when the last inch of water evaporated in a salty haze from the tomb of eons, and the first spirits rose like mist, it was almost a relief. We finally had something to fight for. The end was in sight. And for me, well, my war was finally beginning.
…
The year is 2093.
I stood in the main elevator shaft of the Gamma Tubes and slapped the liftgate closed. Around me are sirens: the red-and-white wail. Fluorescents shine on white-painted, concrete bunker walls. The liftgate churns.
*Faster! Goddamit, Faster!*
*I’m sweating. The liftgate moves at a mile-per-minute and the safehouse is thirty floors above me. I’m not going to make it.* Screams rise from below. White and blue shadows dance and dart as they climb the shaft. Their ethereal hands grasp and slip and catch the rungs of the ladder as they climb. And they do climb—like a pack of ravenous baboons, jeering and howling and grasping the walls.
They scratch against the concrete with a slow scraping and I tap the aluminum bat on the perforated steel of the liftgate. *Tap-a-tap.* Red warning lights mix eerie purple with their blue forms. I count the shadows. One, two, five clamoring towards me. They are getting closer. I start to smell the acrid burn of plasma, like spent electricity, like bottle lightning ready to singe and tear and rip and claw.
*Good god,* I’ve seen those things rip a man apart in seconds.
*Faster!*
The bat tap-taps against the steel and I wonder how the other survivors will remember me. I tried to be a good man. I really did. Amos always said I’d die alone, no friends, nobody to weep for me. We laughed and I told him to fuck off and we’d down another shot of whiskey to numb the end of the workday. I never thought he’d be right.
If I made it back to the safe room, I’d punch him myself.
Or hug him.
Hell, I’d give him my last bottle of Old Forrester just to be back in smelling distance of his toothless grin and his smudge smile. I think he’d appreciate the hustle, at my last, if nothing else. He was always that sort of man. Talks a big talk, but at the end of the day, if you put up, he shut up. I respect that. I appreciate that.
I’m going to miss that smug sumbitch.
Then there’s Rose.
She’s tough as thorns but has that smile about her. Wears a forlorn look, like she’s always searching for something. I see it in her smile, the twitch of her lips, the gentle tap-tap of her bots on the concrete. She’s dancing. She’s trying hard to remember how to dance, to sing, to remember the music.
A year back, in the deep bowels of the Delta Tunnels we found an antique MP3 Player. The thing must have been a hundred years old, barely worked, and we didn’t even have the right batteries for it. We had six, maybe ten minutes of life, and the speaker crackled, and we were on the run, stuck together, unsure if we were going to make it across the chutes.
“Dance with me?” she asked, a fire in her eyes.
I remember her hands rough against mine, the smell of singed electricity as the blasted ghosts swarmed closer, those precious minutes as the speaker played and we moved in a two-step, moved in sequence. She came into her own, and I have never seen her smile like she did that night, hips twirling, lips locked together.
One moment of bliss before the music failed.
*Rose.*
The liftgate comes to a screeching halt.
It’s the middle of the tunnel. Power’s cut. It’s another fifty feet up to the entrance to the side chute. I slam my hands against the emergency button but the liftgate does nothing. Howls from below. Whoops of delight. The spirits are ravenous.
The liftgate groans with a heave of metal. Beneath the grated steel are frayed wires, scraped steel, cut cables. The ghosts are getting smarter.
They are nearly level with me.
I have no choice. I have to climb. I run to the edge of the liftgate and clamor over the safety railing. Below me is a thousand-foot drop into nothingness. The liftgate doesn’t completely fill the shaft; there’s a small gap for airflow. Now I need to jump, from the ledge, grab the rungs of the ladder, ascend to the side chute, fight off the ghosts, and not fall to my death.
In that order.
I wedge the aluminum bat in the drawers of my trousers and wince at the cool of metal on flesh. The spirits are ten rungs below. Can I climb faster? I sure hope so. Otherwise, I’ll be a grease stain and shreds of cloth and memories on the floor of an abandoned tunnel.
I take a breath.
And maybe if I make it back, I’ll ask Rose to marry me. It’ll be a great wedding. Not even Amos can stop us. I could even bring some booze, my very last bottle. It’ll be fun. *Isn’t this fun?*
“Fuck it,” I say.
I jump.
&#x200B;
***
More Stories at r/BLT_WITH_RANCH | |
[WP] A little known cosmic fact is that there were only ever 10 billion human souls produced. As the population slowly creeps upwards, the department of reincarnation struggles to find a workaround. | The Secretariat called the Board to a meeting. All options had been exhausted. Those relegated to the Bottom Floor were to be re-released into the Playpen. Perhaps allowing those souls who had suffered eternal damnation and suffering for a millenia might be more inclined to try the paragon approach to existence, one Board Member argued. Calm, every note the same, a flat pitch.
Another Board Member interjected, offering advice regarding the lowest echelon of the Pent House floors. Perhaps those deserving of eternal happiness, but not as deserving as those on the top floor, might like an opportunity to use the Elevator. Most souls only exist on the Floor they are placed; only once in eternity has a soul used the Elevator. Perhaps it was time to open the Doors.
The meeting had begun around 7 cycles ago, as populations rose to 3 billion. A deficit of 7 billion was considered extraneous. Re-incarnation only needed one soul per body, as long as the population didn't rise about 10 billion, then there was no concern. The year 2137 has indicated a record 9.2 billion and a answer must be reached.
The Board shifted and contorted, souls bleeding in and out adding new information and statistics into the Board's Network. Their thoughts were like an ocean, every splash making a ripple. A vast surrounding of knowledge to call upon with an endless rain through time.
One bead of rain hit the surface. A new idea cascaded along the waterline.
One soul per one human is no longer feasible. Split the soul, create ways for humans in the Playpen to find their other 50% Soul Mass; utilise pre-existing notions of the 'Soulmate' in Playpen psychology to increase likelihood of process adoption. Provide business case for approval to the Corporate Owner.
As the population reached 10 billion, the Secretariat made the final sentence on the Board's Minutes. The Network disbanded, and a new process implemented.
Souls were no longer whole. Those with v2 Attachments now were required to find their soulmate in order to be granted access to the Penthouse Floors. Those who do not in their life will continue searching in other lives until Corporate Retirement was possible.
And so began a new era. Not a new era of love and potential, but of struggle and chaos. Human's began wars to find their soulmates, people murdered in cold blood to try and force re-incarnations so their soulmate was on the same continent; religions crumbled and society faced an unprecedented challenge. Having half a soul created a void of conscience, a deficit of remorse, a scarcity of humanity.
The Secretariat called the Board to a meeting. | I told them that we didn't need those fancy displays in the reincarnation arrivals lounge. "Don't you understand? When the returning souls come in, they're confused and disoriented. We need to project an air of competence and safety immediately." OK, that actually sounded like a good idea (rare for middle management), but when I suggested that mocking up some pretty blinkenlights would be faster, better, and more reliable? "No, no, that wouldn't be *authentic*. Souls can tell when it's not *authentic*."
So I was pulled off a very interesting stellar physics upgrade to work on this "top priority". Opportunities to really change anything are getting rarer and rarer; you have to go either really tiny, or really far away from the souls. Sigh. Anyway, I got the thing done, and the pointy-hairs were happy. Although now that the excrement has impacted on the rotating airflow inducer, I do feel kind of vindicated. It may have taken half a century in their time, but a returning soul finally looked at the displays for long enough to actually understand some of what they were reading.
Of course, now everyone upstairs is looking to make heads roll, because what that soul noticed is that we're almost at the limit for maximum concurrent soul instances. The returns are all running around screaming about the Apocalypse. I'm just glad that I made enough of a paper trail to avoid getting stuck as the one who has to explain to them that there's no problem because linear time is a human concept.
There's a reason that the initial design included so many steps for wiping souls' memories before reinsertion. Thank the cosmos that the folks who set this place up when it was a tiny start-up knew what they were doing, at least. | |
[WP] A little known cosmic fact is that there were only ever 10 billion human souls produced. As the population slowly creeps upwards, the department of reincarnation struggles to find a workaround. | “What’s the projection looking like for the next decade?”
“It’s hard to tell ma’am” Ben Stickerson replied. It was a bizarre feeling to not know the answer to a very simple question. For thousands of years the Department of Reincarnation (DoR) has always made the right projections for any given time. It was always precise, down to the last soul. If projections seemed a little low, a baby boom was ordered. If there was over population, a plague or famine and sometimes war was initiated. There was always balance. The net gain/loss was always zero. That was the goal. Ben and his team prided themselves with maintaining that balance even as it got harder and harder to maintain as time wore on. Thai time however, for the first time in eons, his numbers didn’t add up. The math was off. In the business of souls, there are no errors. If there’s a problem, it is never a small one.
“What do you mean you don’t know?” Priscilla Ripsoula asked. “The question was rhetorical Ben.” “The answer is always zero”. “Well yes, of course it’s zero, but only if it works out that way. You see, based on our calculations and analyzing trends within the last 100 years, it is impossible for the answer to be zero. The answer is more than that” Ben nervously replied. The mood in the conference room turned icy. Soul associates, engineers and customer representatives nervously fidgeted in their seats. They worked with a limited source. You can’t make it... you can only repurpose it. What Ben is saying sent a chill down their spines. The most important resource in the universe, a human soul, is about to run out and there is nothing anyone can do to stop it.
“We’ve has this issue before, last century. Start a 3rd world war but make it bigger” Priscilla suggested. “that should bring the numbers down, if we over correct like last time then baby boom it till it balances out.” “Engineering, you got ideas on how to make this happen?” “We do ma’am but it’s a little complicated” Jim Hellpert, the lead soul engineer replied. “Humans have evolved in their ways of war. They would annihilate each other and cause a correction that would be too extreme, we risk soul inflation if we do it this way.” “Also, they do not posses enough resources to recoup. Their biosphere is chaotic, and overtaxed. It would take hundreds of years for humans to recover... if they even can.”
“Drats.” Priscilla mused. “So you’re telling me humans could wipe themselves out or starve themselves. What the hell happened here.” “An extreme overcorrection last bi century” Ben interjected. “I proposed a slower, more gradual approach to reincarnation but the board-“ “yes we get it. That’s enough Stickerson” Priscilla replied, annoyingly at what Ben was hinting.
The board of trustees, in their mad dash to cash in on the soul boom decided to “buy back” some souls at the cost of a few hundred million human lives. The over correction was so severe that the inflation rate caused the market to crash, forcing the board to authorize the longest baby boom in modern history. The additional improvements in human technology and relatively peaceful times had an exponential growth on population, which made soul reincarnation a booming business. The business however, is close to going bust.
“How do our reserves look like?” Priscilla asked. “Right now we have 2.5-2.65 billion human souls remaining ma’am” Ben replied. “If our estimates are correct, humans will cross 10 billion people in 45-50 years.” “And we can balance it with higher death rates?” Priscilla asked nervously. “We can, but it’s going to only buy us a few years I am afraid. With a population this dense, normal means of mortality are not enough to keep them in check.” Ben replied. “I see...” Priscilla said. “This is not how I wanted this century to start”
“We could approach the problem from multiple angles ma’am” Sonya Blesasoul interjected. As the lead saleswoman for the DoR it was her job to have creative solutions to the soul problem. Her latest idea however, is the craziest and most far fetched one yet. “Go on Sonya I’m all ears.” Priscilla replied.
“In times past, we have always approached population booms and shortages with a heavy hand...” Sonya explained. “It was always some catastrophe or some miracle that kept the markets stable. But what if, we have a more.. subtle approach?” The room stayed silent, eager to hear the lead sales woman’s pitch. Sonya continued. “Humans are inherently unstable... so let’s use that to our advantage. The last global plague they suffered was almost 600 years ago. How about we start a more, controlled, deliberate version that is potent, but not quite as deadly.”
Priscilla fixed her eye on Sonya. She realized what the the angle was and she liked it. “You want to start a pandemic that would cripple the world slowly. You don’t want to kill huge chunks of them off but whittle them down. That’s absolutely diabolical Sonya”
“diabolical and efficient I believe” Sonya replied. “Humans are incredibly resilient as well. They will try to fix this as soon as possible. If we can generate a plague that keeps them occupied for at least a few years, it would kill enough people to flatten the curve and discourage people from breeding at the same time. We stabilize our soul revenue and export. No inflation and a steady stream of business. Everyone wins.”
“But there are so many of them already Sonya.” Ben interjected. “This is like paying off only the interest. We need to attack the principal as well.” “I’m glad you asked Ben.” Sonya replied. “Humans in the last 15 years have revisited certain trends... escalation of force around the world, wanton environmental vandalism etc... to attack the principal, we only need to nudge them a little towards one of these trends. I suggest we nurture the growing tensions between... Uh, this United States and...” Sonya paused, seemingly amused at the irony of the name “and this USSR.. wait I apologize they changed their name again. Russian Federation.” “A localized war between world powers should trigger a larger global conflict... but with a pandemic to worry about they are less likely to fully annihilate each other... just enough to lower population by 20% if my projections are correct.”
“You’re a bloody genius Sonya.” Priscilla exclaimed. “A very well thought out plan. The Board is going to love this.” “Hellpert, Stickerson, I want you to have specifics drafted by next month. Let’s start with the plague. Can we get this started before the next quarter?” “You mean in 2020 ma’am?” Ben asked. “Yes, 2020. The board will appreciate the launch of our new initiative around this time.” Priscilla replied.
“I think we can manage that. I guess we can start in china so we make the deadline eh Jim?” Ben asked. “Already on it Stickerson.. they do love their bats after all.” Jim replied. | I told them that we didn't need those fancy displays in the reincarnation arrivals lounge. "Don't you understand? When the returning souls come in, they're confused and disoriented. We need to project an air of competence and safety immediately." OK, that actually sounded like a good idea (rare for middle management), but when I suggested that mocking up some pretty blinkenlights would be faster, better, and more reliable? "No, no, that wouldn't be *authentic*. Souls can tell when it's not *authentic*."
So I was pulled off a very interesting stellar physics upgrade to work on this "top priority". Opportunities to really change anything are getting rarer and rarer; you have to go either really tiny, or really far away from the souls. Sigh. Anyway, I got the thing done, and the pointy-hairs were happy. Although now that the excrement has impacted on the rotating airflow inducer, I do feel kind of vindicated. It may have taken half a century in their time, but a returning soul finally looked at the displays for long enough to actually understand some of what they were reading.
Of course, now everyone upstairs is looking to make heads roll, because what that soul noticed is that we're almost at the limit for maximum concurrent soul instances. The returns are all running around screaming about the Apocalypse. I'm just glad that I made enough of a paper trail to avoid getting stuck as the one who has to explain to them that there's no problem because linear time is a human concept.
There's a reason that the initial design included so many steps for wiping souls' memories before reinsertion. Thank the cosmos that the folks who set this place up when it was a tiny start-up knew what they were doing, at least. | |
[WP] A little known cosmic fact is that there were only ever 10 billion human souls produced. As the population slowly creeps upwards, the department of reincarnation struggles to find a workaround. | "The central problem is a lot of our solutions are unraveling at the same time, and we're reaching critical far ahead of schedule." Anna tapped her pen against the table idly, looking over the assembled room. "Our current soul load is 7.8 billion. Once you deduct the 1.2 billion already permanently condemned to Hell..."
"And the 783 promoted to Heaven," John interjected.
Anna glared at her deputy for a moment, the only sound being the clicking of her pen. "Yes, fine, and the drop in the bucket of those who actually passed into heaven already, our soul reserves have now reached one billion. Birth rate right now is, what... 150 million per annum?"
"141 million," Greg answered. He wasn't a member of the committee, but having someone from the statistical office was a help here.
"141, fine. That's still about, what, 7 years downtime average?"
"Real number is closer to 2 years now," Juanita said shaking her head. "Those killed traumatically need more downtime to process it - whenever we return them early, it's really just a wasted trip." She was in charge of spiritual reconstruction, and her department had been working overtime these days.
"Plus we've essentially ended the crossover program. We used to send some souls for a life as a tree, or a horse, to give them a different perspective. Now, well, we can still do a few bug cycles for those who need it, but that's about it." Abdul raised his arms, "I know, I know..."
"A week as a butterfly isn't gonna cure the arrogant," Anna finished. "Ok, what I need is options. Pestilence, what have we got?"
Edward gave a depressed sigh. "They're getting smarter. Back in the good old days we could throw a nice black plague their way, or introduce them to tobacco. But between vaccines, health programs, education... they're figuring things out faster than we can really introduce them."
"Well, that Covid thing is showing some progress, isn't it?"
Edward shook his head. "Not enough to matter in the end, we'll be lucky to clear a million. We're working our misinformation networks hard, but too many people just don't believe it."
"Well, keep at it. Alright, that covers natural death. Warfare, how we doing?"
"Nukes should have taken care of this years ago," wailed Lizzy. "I mean, we practically taught them to make things go booms! And then how to make missiles. Why aren't they nuking each other?"
Anna sighed. "Someone give Lizzy a handkerchief, please..."
Lizzy tried to compose herself. "The real nasty problem is, they're all scared of the nukes now. Couple times we got close, but.. but... waaaaaaaaaah!"
Anna shook her head. "They're keeping their skirmishes in low enough importance so as not to risk nuclear exchange."
"I told you so," John said.
Anna glared at her deputy again. "Ok. Natural disasters, how we doing?"
Barry rumbled a little. "Global warming is still go. They're trying to mitigate it, but only half heartedly, it's still our best hope. And the spinoff hurricanes, droughts, flooding, and famines are only going to help us."
"But will it buy us enough time?"
"Dunno. They're resourceful when we force them to be."
"Good job anyway. Alright, so we've hit the death rate... birth rates?"
"Split verdict as usual, boss," Aiko spread her arms. "Economics actually reduced the birthrate in the western division. Harder economic times, material desires, means Europe is doing alright, less than 2 children per family. But the south sectors, still having a population boom. We're going to need another famine or two to keep things under control."
"I'm kind of busy," Barry answered.
"Can we reduce the fertility rate a bit more?" Anna asked
"Maybe, but they keep figuring workarounds. The more we push there, the cheaper those workarounds get, so its hard to stay ahead of it."
"Ok. So... birth rate is going to stay high, death rate isn't going to be able to save us yet?"
Barry nodded. "It's going to be a close call, even in our best projections."
Aiko nodded. "Yeah. We might make it, but it will be a close shave."
"So we need more deaths, or fewer births." Anna tossed her pen in the air. "Options?"
For a few minutes, silence reigned. Then, slowly, John raised his hand.
"Go ahead."
"Well, there are that extra billion or so souls in hell we could use."
"They got put there for good reasons, and most of them have had several chances" Anna pointed out.
"Yes, but those good reasons actually argue in favor of the plan. More mass murderers, well, that increases the death rate, right? And the charismatic, getting them in charge of countries, that could lead to more war, and more pestilence. Isn't that what we're missing badly?"
The table grumbled a little. "Alright. Well... John, it's your ball. Draft your proposal for the Underworld steering committee, since we'll need their support on this. Unless someone else has a better idea, anyway..."
She sighed after no one else spoke. "It's a terrible plan. But it's at least a plan." | “Next slide. And in conclusion, that is how we can allow Humans to continue to reproduce beyond the 10 billion-soul cap. Thank you” Ted bowed as he waited for the applause that he was due.
It never came. Despite the large conference room in the Department of Reincarnation being packed, the room remained silent at the end of Ted’s presentation. The silence was defining.
“Thank you for your presentation, Ted.” James Sutherland, head of the Committee on Soul management broke the silence, “Your ideas on Humans without souls were… quite... interesting, and something this committee will consider moving forward.”
Ted gave a halfhearted smile and took his seat without another remark. The committee would not be taking his idea further.
“All right,” James continued reading down the schedule before him, “The last presentation this morning is from Liz Fletcher. Liz the stage is yours.”
&#x200B;
Liz took the podium in front of the room, “Of course Mr. Sutherland. To umm, stall for a sec while Ray resets the slide deck, I've tried to keep this presentation short as I think we all want to break for Lunch, so-” A thumbs up from Ray stopped her prattle.
With a gulp, Liz began, “With the upcoming breach of the uh, 10 billion-soul cap I believe that we can look at one of the humans’ own creations for a soul-tion.”
If the room noticed the pun, they ignored it.
“So, Using computers as a model, we can work around the soul cap by multithreading souls. Next slide please.” | |
[WP] A little known cosmic fact is that there were only ever 10 billion human souls produced. As the population slowly creeps upwards, the department of reincarnation struggles to find a workaround. | A little known cosmic fact is that there were only ever ten billion human souls produced. I know, I know—that sounds like a lot. And it was, at first. But now it isn’t.
Each time someone dies, they’re reincarnated nearly immediately. The death to rebirth time has shrunk from years and years to days. Now, that’s not entirely bad. People learn more that way—sitting in limbo for hundreds of years doesn’t do much for development.
But the thing is we ran out. We thought we had a few more years, but, well… everyone makes mistakes. Fewer people died than we’d anticipated—which is a good thing!—but also but us in a bit of a jam.
So that’s where you come in. You lucky, lucky soul.
It’s a bit of a test run, still. We’re working through the kinks. You can anticipate some… difficulties as we get you settled in. But imagine the stories you’ll have!
Anyway. I digress. The basics of it are this: you’ll occupy two bodies at once. Isn’t that neat!
So here you are, in the hospital in Ann Arbor, Michigan and here you are in a hospital in Amman, Jordan. Here you are, dying of lung cancer (maybe this time you won’t smoke) and here you are, a newborn in a different hospital on the other side of the world.
There’s only one catch to this: you’ll remember your last life. Usually reincarnation gives you a blank slate between each try. But you need the downtime, so to speak, to get the reset.
So, yeah. There’s a little cosmic lesson for you. Your crossover shouldn’t be long. Hopefully. And just think of what you’ll do this time, knowing what you know now. Don’t waste this chance.
And, my friend—good luck.
*
r/liswrites | “Next slide. And in conclusion, that is how we can allow Humans to continue to reproduce beyond the 10 billion-soul cap. Thank you” Ted bowed as he waited for the applause that he was due.
It never came. Despite the large conference room in the Department of Reincarnation being packed, the room remained silent at the end of Ted’s presentation. The silence was defining.
“Thank you for your presentation, Ted.” James Sutherland, head of the Committee on Soul management broke the silence, “Your ideas on Humans without souls were… quite... interesting, and something this committee will consider moving forward.”
Ted gave a halfhearted smile and took his seat without another remark. The committee would not be taking his idea further.
“All right,” James continued reading down the schedule before him, “The last presentation this morning is from Liz Fletcher. Liz the stage is yours.”
&#x200B;
Liz took the podium in front of the room, “Of course Mr. Sutherland. To umm, stall for a sec while Ray resets the slide deck, I've tried to keep this presentation short as I think we all want to break for Lunch, so-” A thumbs up from Ray stopped her prattle.
With a gulp, Liz began, “With the upcoming breach of the uh, 10 billion-soul cap I believe that we can look at one of the humans’ own creations for a soul-tion.”
If the room noticed the pun, they ignored it.
“So, Using computers as a model, we can work around the soul cap by multithreading souls. Next slide please.” | |
[WP] Dear diary, I’ve been feeding this creature that fell from the sky for a few days. It strangely likes to drink water, the liquid we use to fuel cars. I noticed a patch on its suit today that read “NASA”. I’ll ask it tomorrow what that means. If that’s it’s name. | Written on my phone during my lunch break. Please forgive typos and formatting. Autocorrect , mobile, and fat thumbs don’t play nice!!
It has been a fortnight since the star fell. Xander has been taking care of the bipedal creature since then. Xander had tried to remove its suit to look for wounds, but after examination he wasn’t sure if it could come off. The suit was made of some Alien alloy and it gave off a gentle hum when the creature moved. I patch that seemed to be woven of fabric and attached to one of its metal shoulder plates. Yet it felt distinctly metallic and cold to the touch. Symbols where seemingly embroidered into the patch but Xander did not recognize them. He had caught a picture and sent it to the towns librarian AI hoping it would find something.
The bipedal has awoken not but a day ago and has gotten out of bed today.
“Hey slow down there big guy! You fell from space you should be up!”
The creature simply responded with an exasperated stare, then proceeded to look up as If thinking deeply.
“Hgnjes eknelofb fine.”
Xander stepped back. The first half of that sentence was gibberish but the last word was definitely fine.
“Did you just speak Acotyly? Can you understand me?”
The creature nodded in response.
“ Yeah ok wow. I make alien contact...maybe for the first time in my species history and it can even understand our language.” Xander began to pace the room, his mind running away with him. He stopped and gave a little excited hop.
“Oh I know! We will take you to the librarian! Maybe we can synthesize your speech!”
Xander rushes to the door, less walking and more flinging himself through. The creature followed at a walking pace. Crossing the threshold of the small abode the creature was greeted with on odd sight. Xander and it sat on a large prairie. Other small houses could be seen dotting the land scape. In the distance a large city could be seen. Most striking however was the fact that if you looked to the right or left the world curved up into the sky. It assumably met somewhere but a small yellow orb, a sun blocked the view. They appeared to be in a ring world.
“Interesting huh? No one knows how we got here. Far as we can tell our race started on this ring, full bio system, rain cycle , day, night, everything!” Xander gushed as they walked, assumably to the library
“When we finally where able to explore outside our ring we realized our system has another star! A Dyson sphere had been built around it completely. Utilizing its power combined with reverse engineering technology from the ring has allowed us to jump forward by leaps and bounds! We recently start colonizing other worlds, who know living on a sphere would be so different from living on a ring!”
Xander skipped forward before coming to a halt before a sleek cubic building.
“Come I’m inside!” Xander gave a hopping trot into the building. The creature followed. Inside was a singular dark room.
“ Library, awake!” Xander spoke into the darkness. The room inside lit up, walls of data projected from floor to ceiling.
“Hello Xander.” a soothing female voice emanated from seemingly all around them. “ I finished those scan for you, additionally my data base was updated with new findings from the colonists from Jarb 4, I figure you may be interested.”
“Jarb 4 can wait. What about those scans from the images I sent you. The creature is up and I brought it with me!”
“Well the scans took me some time but I eventually found similarity’s with ancient carvings found in the inter workings of the ring and the Dyson sphere. They are most likely human in origin, the Acotyly presumed progenitors and benefactors. The word itself translates to NASA which is to believed to be some branch of humanity that has existed in, or frequently visited space.”
(Whelp lunch is over got to go. If anyone likes I can finish this when I get home.) | On the third suncycle, NASA finally moved, and I wasn’t there to witness it. This is still one of my biggest regrets; maybe I would have been so excited as to contact it right there and then. Maybe not, but I can’t help thinking about the consequences; what if I had tried to talk to it then? Could all this have been prevented?
I wasn’t there, no, I had been watching it intently for three beats beforehand, walking up and down in my resting room, too moved to think properly. Finally, as I thought about which code to try first, it occurred to me that I did not have the proper communication plates with me, and so I went off to the lab. When I returned, it laid there, hunched over in a corner. NASA hadn’t moved very far, but still!
I watched what had happened on the Light Thread I had installed on the ceiling. And, to my utmost surprise, it had actually eaten - but not from one of the many food plates, but from its own waste bowl! My heart began to flutter with excitement. A self-regulated organism, perhaps! But fueled by water? That seemed rather primitive. I was itching, ready to actually attempt communication, but the quarantine had to be upheld; I had only entered its chamber decontaminated and protected with a layer of dust, to supply a large amount of different minerals and other foods, and to collect its waste products.
I had to consult with my superiors immediately. And so I left it, albeit reluctantly, to its own devices.
Regret fills me still when I think about the next beats. Many conversations were had, ranging from just two or three other scientists to large groups, singing in dissonance, arguing over the proceedings. And in the end, we trusted The Old One, as was customary back then.
The quarantine was extended. The Old One brought forward reasonable concerns; what if anything of our environment was harmful to the creature? It was best to leave it alone and observe for now.
Arrangements were made, more water was brought in, in case it wasn’t able to sustain itself. We always went in and out quickly, whenever NASA closed its eyes during its inactivity phase. NASA never moved during our brief visits that suncycle, but it could be observed to consume water a few times the following beats.
I don’t like thinking about what follows, and you can all imagine why I haven’t sung about it until today. But I have to accept the responsibility for the events, or I cannot leave this world in peace and harmony.
Nothing much happened with the creature. Its movement was about as fast as that of a Middleager, slow compared to our Young Ones, a bit faster than me. But it didn’t become more inactive, and we left it to recover from its skyfall while we thought and sung about a code to use; we named it NASA, since that was the code on its outer coat.
Before the beginning of the sixteenth suncycle, I was left alone to watch the light thread, and I saw NASA signal something. It held one of its arms up to its mouth, as it did when comsuming its water (the thought still repulses me to this day. Water? How could it stand the smell?). The gesture was faster, seemed more intense and urgent than all it had done up to that point, and in that moment, I decided to go against The Old One’s judgement. I coated myself thickly in dust, twice the recommended amount to be safe, and entered its chamber, two knowledge plates in hand.
Some red water had leaked from its extremity, where its mouth had touched it – was this an injury? Did its flesh also contain water? Or just another waste product? When I entered, its head rose quickly, and it sat up.
“Do you need assistance?”, I sang, while pointing to one of the water bowls; it was almost empty. Did it need more?
The creature pulled at its skin and then gestured to its mouth erratically, and I jumped back, startled. But I was trained for this very moment since I was a young one. I held up one of my communication plates, where I had also drawn the name NASA - but I had coated myself too thickly. In that moment, a big chunk of dust broke from the skin around my arm, revealing the purple flesh beneath.
It’s hard to describe the next events. NASA looked at me for a few moments, and then with a speed I could not have thought possible, sprung forward and tore off my entire arm. I cried out in pain and collapsed to the ground, as the creature began devouring it, faster than anything I have witnessed since, with water exiting its eyes rapidly.
The stench and the pain blurred my sight, and the last thing I remember is seeing it loom over me, standing there, then running off through the door.
I don’t need to tell you what happened next. I still don’t know why it spared me, and what made it collapse after taking so many of our lives. But I will recall the bloated, pink body in the town square, surrounded by corpses, the smell of water and our flesh and, finally, its shrill cries when we managed to bury it in sand. Never before have we had to bury someone before their time, and a few Young Ones now suggest that this was a sin- but let me warn you, that creature was not of this world, and if it came from another, then maybe it was for the best that it died then and there, before bringing more of its kind. | |
[WP] Dear diary, I’ve been feeding this creature that fell from the sky for a few days. It strangely likes to drink water, the liquid we use to fuel cars. I noticed a patch on its suit today that read “NASA”. I’ll ask it tomorrow what that means. If that’s it’s name. | This creature was strange, laying on the ground after it dragged itself from its ship. I hesitantly crept forward, laying flat on my stomach and dragging myself with my arms, just like it was. Maybe it was a sign of submission, a greeting? But when I saw a red trail behind it and sniffed what it was, I could taste the sharp and metallic essence at the back of my throat. It made my stomach heave, and my gills flared with alarm. This creature was hurt, and its life force was leaking from a crack in its stomach.
I was much larger than this creature, it seemed. It was nearly half my size. It had no tail, no gills, no wings or feathers. It was small and frail, weak. It looked malnourished as well. So I did what I could and picked it up in my arms. Spreading my wings, I took flight and brought the strange thing to the healer of our tribe. When I landed, every one of my tribemate’s eyes were on it. One flattened their ears and bared their fangs. Their tail lashed and gills flared aggressively. “What is it? Will it hurt us?”
I was unsure, but I still felt bad. “Have you no sympathy G’norak?” I roared back. “Move before it leaks too much.” I brought the leaking creature to the Hometree, and to the healer’s hollow. The shaman walked over and began to help it, like it would help us. But this creature seemed to be much more fragile. The shaman looked inside the transparent exoskeleton.
“That is not it’s head,” She realized. Gently removing the cracked exoskeleton, she realized that this creature was wearing clothes, and this white crackling substance was not its skin. There was runes on its exoskeleton clothes that read NASA.
“K’laki,” I said, pointing at the runes, “I think it is called Nasa. A strange name,” I tilted my head to the side. “But a pretty one.”
Over the next few Suncycles, this creature and I spent much time together. At first it huddled in the corner of my hollow in the Hometree, its eyes wide. It hissed strange language at me, and balled its fists together. It had claws, but they were blunt and not good for defense. Though, it did try to bite me once. Eventually though I learned, if I purred, it liked that. When I purred and reached out one hand after sheathing my claws, the creature was more friendly. It bared its teeth, but in a good way.
I learned that Nasa very much liked water, like we did! But it could not breathe it or swim as well as us. It didn’t have gills. I also saw that it didn’t like the high branches of the Hometree, and would wail when it got too frightened. It did not have wings, so I could see its distress. I would retrieve it and fly it somewhere safe. I have learned that Nasa also likes to eat many things, mainly the Waterfood and Plantfood.
Nasa did not say its name was something other than Nasa, but it made a chuffing sound that looked as if it was finding humor in the name. Sometimes it would make those funny sounds. But at the end of a Suncycle, when it was dark, Nasa would look up at the sky and make a terrible howling sound. Water came out of its eyes, and it would ball up helplessly. I was unsure what to do. I purred, and that seemed to make Nasa calm again. But one dark hour, I wrapped my wings around it. It made the howling again, but it huddled closer to me. Seeking emotional support, perhaps? I cradled it, and Nasa fell asleep soon after.
Nasa had never gone home. It has been hundreds of Suncycles, and it seemed to give up trying to repair it’s arrival pod. Nasa eventually became happier here with us, and began to learn our language. Today it said, “Good Suncycle,” When it awakened. It has leadned the words, “Water,” “Hungry,” “Sleep,” and “Happy.” It is still learning to pronounce, “Sad,” and “Angry.” It very much likes the word, “No.”
Nasa has become our friend in the village, and has even started hunting with us. It cannot fly, but likes riding on my back. Nasa can hold its breath in water, but I must watch closely and protect it. Eventually, even G’norak accepted Nasa as part of our tribe. Nasa seems happy, and that makes me happy. It still looks at the sky, and I think Nasa wants to go home, but also likes it here with us. Maybe one day more Nasa’s will arrive and bring it back home. But for now, I will keep Nasa safe under my wings. | On the third suncycle, NASA finally moved, and I wasn’t there to witness it. This is still one of my biggest regrets; maybe I would have been so excited as to contact it right there and then. Maybe not, but I can’t help thinking about the consequences; what if I had tried to talk to it then? Could all this have been prevented?
I wasn’t there, no, I had been watching it intently for three beats beforehand, walking up and down in my resting room, too moved to think properly. Finally, as I thought about which code to try first, it occurred to me that I did not have the proper communication plates with me, and so I went off to the lab. When I returned, it laid there, hunched over in a corner. NASA hadn’t moved very far, but still!
I watched what had happened on the Light Thread I had installed on the ceiling. And, to my utmost surprise, it had actually eaten - but not from one of the many food plates, but from its own waste bowl! My heart began to flutter with excitement. A self-regulated organism, perhaps! But fueled by water? That seemed rather primitive. I was itching, ready to actually attempt communication, but the quarantine had to be upheld; I had only entered its chamber decontaminated and protected with a layer of dust, to supply a large amount of different minerals and other foods, and to collect its waste products.
I had to consult with my superiors immediately. And so I left it, albeit reluctantly, to its own devices.
Regret fills me still when I think about the next beats. Many conversations were had, ranging from just two or three other scientists to large groups, singing in dissonance, arguing over the proceedings. And in the end, we trusted The Old One, as was customary back then.
The quarantine was extended. The Old One brought forward reasonable concerns; what if anything of our environment was harmful to the creature? It was best to leave it alone and observe for now.
Arrangements were made, more water was brought in, in case it wasn’t able to sustain itself. We always went in and out quickly, whenever NASA closed its eyes during its inactivity phase. NASA never moved during our brief visits that suncycle, but it could be observed to consume water a few times the following beats.
I don’t like thinking about what follows, and you can all imagine why I haven’t sung about it until today. But I have to accept the responsibility for the events, or I cannot leave this world in peace and harmony.
Nothing much happened with the creature. Its movement was about as fast as that of a Middleager, slow compared to our Young Ones, a bit faster than me. But it didn’t become more inactive, and we left it to recover from its skyfall while we thought and sung about a code to use; we named it NASA, since that was the code on its outer coat.
Before the beginning of the sixteenth suncycle, I was left alone to watch the light thread, and I saw NASA signal something. It held one of its arms up to its mouth, as it did when comsuming its water (the thought still repulses me to this day. Water? How could it stand the smell?). The gesture was faster, seemed more intense and urgent than all it had done up to that point, and in that moment, I decided to go against The Old One’s judgement. I coated myself thickly in dust, twice the recommended amount to be safe, and entered its chamber, two knowledge plates in hand.
Some red water had leaked from its extremity, where its mouth had touched it – was this an injury? Did its flesh also contain water? Or just another waste product? When I entered, its head rose quickly, and it sat up.
“Do you need assistance?”, I sang, while pointing to one of the water bowls; it was almost empty. Did it need more?
The creature pulled at its skin and then gestured to its mouth erratically, and I jumped back, startled. But I was trained for this very moment since I was a young one. I held up one of my communication plates, where I had also drawn the name NASA - but I had coated myself too thickly. In that moment, a big chunk of dust broke from the skin around my arm, revealing the purple flesh beneath.
It’s hard to describe the next events. NASA looked at me for a few moments, and then with a speed I could not have thought possible, sprung forward and tore off my entire arm. I cried out in pain and collapsed to the ground, as the creature began devouring it, faster than anything I have witnessed since, with water exiting its eyes rapidly.
The stench and the pain blurred my sight, and the last thing I remember is seeing it loom over me, standing there, then running off through the door.
I don’t need to tell you what happened next. I still don’t know why it spared me, and what made it collapse after taking so many of our lives. But I will recall the bloated, pink body in the town square, surrounded by corpses, the smell of water and our flesh and, finally, its shrill cries when we managed to bury it in sand. Never before have we had to bury someone before their time, and a few Young Ones now suggest that this was a sin- but let me warn you, that creature was not of this world, and if it came from another, then maybe it was for the best that it died then and there, before bringing more of its kind. | |
[WP] Dear diary, I’ve been feeding this creature that fell from the sky for a few days. It strangely likes to drink water, the liquid we use to fuel cars. I noticed a patch on its suit today that read “NASA”. I’ll ask it tomorrow what that means. If that’s it’s name. | Yanhen, 25nd of Kell, 5013.
Dear Diary, I hate keeping up with this sort of thing. I'm bad at Diaries but I think it's important to document this. Last night a large metal object fell from the sky. I'm going to check it out tomorrow, when my wife is at work.
Tunhen, 26th of Kell, 5013
Dear Diary. I checked out the metal object and it had a lot of indentations in it, did they mean something? There was also a clear substance making up part of the metal tube. The interior looked far too small for anything to be inside, was it trash thrown from a neighboring planet? That's illegal!
Gahhen, 27th of Kell 5013.
Dear Diary. I went to check out the object so I could file a complaint and there was a creature inside, about half my hight, and I'm small for a Jhen. It saw me through the clear parts of its walls and it froze up. It opened one of the indentations in the wall (was it a door? It's a very odd door) and walked towards me. Im not sure if it's intelligent, or if it's one of the weird pets they keep on Huyut.
Kelhen, 28th of Kell 5013.
Dear Diary. I took the creature home (sorry Yulah) and placed it on my bed. It looked scared. It was probably hungry. I tried offering it things to eat but it looked confused at the food. It made some strange noises that made me squeal. It's louder than it seems for something so small. As well I'm starting to suspect that it's body isn't it's "body" as it has no tail.
Yanhen, 29th of Kell 5013.
Hey Dairy. The creature seems hungry. Very hungry. I'm not even sure if it can breath our air, as it is primarily oxygen, but it might have to try soon. As well, I still haven't found anything to feed it. It seems it also needs to drink, like the Hayets on Huyut. It made more noises at me, definitely trying to communicate. It also doesn't understand any of the 13 official intergalactic languages.
Tunhen, 1st of Polk 5013
Hey Diary. Amazing news! It can breath Oxygen! It's language is alot less muffled now it has taken off its hat. But i still can't understand it. It has a strange fact, like someone shaved a Jhen's head. I tried written communication but its language is much different. It has a strange patch. I pointed at it and it said "NASA"... Is that its name?
Gahhen, 2nd of Polk 5013
Diary. Bad news. Terrible news. I accidentally left some of my motor parts in my room including my fuel and the NASA drank it. I don't want to kill it! It looks confused at my panicking, maybe it doesn't understand it will die? I killed a poor NASA!
Yanhen 4th of Polk 5013.
The NASA is still alive? In fact, it seems better off after it drank the water. How can a creature so weak drink such a strong poison? I think I'm starting to understand some of its words. "Hehloh" seems to be a greeting of sorts.
Yanhen 27th of Gakl 5028
I forgot out this thing. It's been a while since I met the human, that's that the NASA's species. Their name is Jehssy- Jessy. English is hard, (that's the human language). Turns out their planet is covered in car fuel, and they eat all sorts of things. From poison to other creatures. Jeh- Jessy is teaching me English, and I'm teaching her Jhenit. Her progress is going well. The thing that fuels her "space boat" isn't readily available though so I don't know if she's ever able to get back to her planet, she seems to be adjusting well. Last night another metal thing crashed though. It's been all over the news. And it has that same NASA writing on it. | On the third suncycle, NASA finally moved, and I wasn’t there to witness it. This is still one of my biggest regrets; maybe I would have been so excited as to contact it right there and then. Maybe not, but I can’t help thinking about the consequences; what if I had tried to talk to it then? Could all this have been prevented?
I wasn’t there, no, I had been watching it intently for three beats beforehand, walking up and down in my resting room, too moved to think properly. Finally, as I thought about which code to try first, it occurred to me that I did not have the proper communication plates with me, and so I went off to the lab. When I returned, it laid there, hunched over in a corner. NASA hadn’t moved very far, but still!
I watched what had happened on the Light Thread I had installed on the ceiling. And, to my utmost surprise, it had actually eaten - but not from one of the many food plates, but from its own waste bowl! My heart began to flutter with excitement. A self-regulated organism, perhaps! But fueled by water? That seemed rather primitive. I was itching, ready to actually attempt communication, but the quarantine had to be upheld; I had only entered its chamber decontaminated and protected with a layer of dust, to supply a large amount of different minerals and other foods, and to collect its waste products.
I had to consult with my superiors immediately. And so I left it, albeit reluctantly, to its own devices.
Regret fills me still when I think about the next beats. Many conversations were had, ranging from just two or three other scientists to large groups, singing in dissonance, arguing over the proceedings. And in the end, we trusted The Old One, as was customary back then.
The quarantine was extended. The Old One brought forward reasonable concerns; what if anything of our environment was harmful to the creature? It was best to leave it alone and observe for now.
Arrangements were made, more water was brought in, in case it wasn’t able to sustain itself. We always went in and out quickly, whenever NASA closed its eyes during its inactivity phase. NASA never moved during our brief visits that suncycle, but it could be observed to consume water a few times the following beats.
I don’t like thinking about what follows, and you can all imagine why I haven’t sung about it until today. But I have to accept the responsibility for the events, or I cannot leave this world in peace and harmony.
Nothing much happened with the creature. Its movement was about as fast as that of a Middleager, slow compared to our Young Ones, a bit faster than me. But it didn’t become more inactive, and we left it to recover from its skyfall while we thought and sung about a code to use; we named it NASA, since that was the code on its outer coat.
Before the beginning of the sixteenth suncycle, I was left alone to watch the light thread, and I saw NASA signal something. It held one of its arms up to its mouth, as it did when comsuming its water (the thought still repulses me to this day. Water? How could it stand the smell?). The gesture was faster, seemed more intense and urgent than all it had done up to that point, and in that moment, I decided to go against The Old One’s judgement. I coated myself thickly in dust, twice the recommended amount to be safe, and entered its chamber, two knowledge plates in hand.
Some red water had leaked from its extremity, where its mouth had touched it – was this an injury? Did its flesh also contain water? Or just another waste product? When I entered, its head rose quickly, and it sat up.
“Do you need assistance?”, I sang, while pointing to one of the water bowls; it was almost empty. Did it need more?
The creature pulled at its skin and then gestured to its mouth erratically, and I jumped back, startled. But I was trained for this very moment since I was a young one. I held up one of my communication plates, where I had also drawn the name NASA - but I had coated myself too thickly. In that moment, a big chunk of dust broke from the skin around my arm, revealing the purple flesh beneath.
It’s hard to describe the next events. NASA looked at me for a few moments, and then with a speed I could not have thought possible, sprung forward and tore off my entire arm. I cried out in pain and collapsed to the ground, as the creature began devouring it, faster than anything I have witnessed since, with water exiting its eyes rapidly.
The stench and the pain blurred my sight, and the last thing I remember is seeing it loom over me, standing there, then running off through the door.
I don’t need to tell you what happened next. I still don’t know why it spared me, and what made it collapse after taking so many of our lives. But I will recall the bloated, pink body in the town square, surrounded by corpses, the smell of water and our flesh and, finally, its shrill cries when we managed to bury it in sand. Never before have we had to bury someone before their time, and a few Young Ones now suggest that this was a sin- but let me warn you, that creature was not of this world, and if it came from another, then maybe it was for the best that it died then and there, before bringing more of its kind. | |
[WP] Dear diary, I’ve been feeding this creature that fell from the sky for a few days. It strangely likes to drink water, the liquid we use to fuel cars. I noticed a patch on its suit today that read “NASA”. I’ll ask it tomorrow what that means. If that’s it’s name. | This creature was strange, laying on the ground after it dragged itself from its ship. I hesitantly crept forward, laying flat on my stomach and dragging myself with my arms, just like it was. Maybe it was a sign of submission, a greeting? But when I saw a red trail behind it and sniffed what it was, I could taste the sharp and metallic essence at the back of my throat. It made my stomach heave, and my gills flared with alarm. This creature was hurt, and its life force was leaking from a crack in its stomach.
I was much larger than this creature, it seemed. It was nearly half my size. It had no tail, no gills, no wings or feathers. It was small and frail, weak. It looked malnourished as well. So I did what I could and picked it up in my arms. Spreading my wings, I took flight and brought the strange thing to the healer of our tribe. When I landed, every one of my tribemate’s eyes were on it. One flattened their ears and bared their fangs. Their tail lashed and gills flared aggressively. “What is it? Will it hurt us?”
I was unsure, but I still felt bad. “Have you no sympathy G’norak?” I roared back. “Move before it leaks too much.” I brought the leaking creature to the Hometree, and to the healer’s hollow. The shaman walked over and began to help it, like it would help us. But this creature seemed to be much more fragile. The shaman looked inside the transparent exoskeleton.
“That is not it’s head,” She realized. Gently removing the cracked exoskeleton, she realized that this creature was wearing clothes, and this white crackling substance was not its skin. There was runes on its exoskeleton clothes that read NASA.
“K’laki,” I said, pointing at the runes, “I think it is called Nasa. A strange name,” I tilted my head to the side. “But a pretty one.”
Over the next few Suncycles, this creature and I spent much time together. At first it huddled in the corner of my hollow in the Hometree, its eyes wide. It hissed strange language at me, and balled its fists together. It had claws, but they were blunt and not good for defense. Though, it did try to bite me once. Eventually though I learned, if I purred, it liked that. When I purred and reached out one hand after sheathing my claws, the creature was more friendly. It bared its teeth, but in a good way.
I learned that Nasa very much liked water, like we did! But it could not breathe it or swim as well as us. It didn’t have gills. I also saw that it didn’t like the high branches of the Hometree, and would wail when it got too frightened. It did not have wings, so I could see its distress. I would retrieve it and fly it somewhere safe. I have learned that Nasa also likes to eat many things, mainly the Waterfood and Plantfood.
Nasa did not say its name was something other than Nasa, but it made a chuffing sound that looked as if it was finding humor in the name. Sometimes it would make those funny sounds. But at the end of a Suncycle, when it was dark, Nasa would look up at the sky and make a terrible howling sound. Water came out of its eyes, and it would ball up helplessly. I was unsure what to do. I purred, and that seemed to make Nasa calm again. But one dark hour, I wrapped my wings around it. It made the howling again, but it huddled closer to me. Seeking emotional support, perhaps? I cradled it, and Nasa fell asleep soon after.
Nasa had never gone home. It has been hundreds of Suncycles, and it seemed to give up trying to repair it’s arrival pod. Nasa eventually became happier here with us, and began to learn our language. Today it said, “Good Suncycle,” When it awakened. It has leadned the words, “Water,” “Hungry,” “Sleep,” and “Happy.” It is still learning to pronounce, “Sad,” and “Angry.” It very much likes the word, “No.”
Nasa has become our friend in the village, and has even started hunting with us. It cannot fly, but likes riding on my back. Nasa can hold its breath in water, but I must watch closely and protect it. Eventually, even G’norak accepted Nasa as part of our tribe. Nasa seems happy, and that makes me happy. It still looks at the sky, and I think Nasa wants to go home, but also likes it here with us. Maybe one day more Nasa’s will arrive and bring it back home. But for now, I will keep Nasa safe under my wings. | Written on my phone during my lunch break. Please forgive typos and formatting. Autocorrect , mobile, and fat thumbs don’t play nice!!
It has been a fortnight since the star fell. Xander has been taking care of the bipedal creature since then. Xander had tried to remove its suit to look for wounds, but after examination he wasn’t sure if it could come off. The suit was made of some Alien alloy and it gave off a gentle hum when the creature moved. I patch that seemed to be woven of fabric and attached to one of its metal shoulder plates. Yet it felt distinctly metallic and cold to the touch. Symbols where seemingly embroidered into the patch but Xander did not recognize them. He had caught a picture and sent it to the towns librarian AI hoping it would find something.
The bipedal has awoken not but a day ago and has gotten out of bed today.
“Hey slow down there big guy! You fell from space you should be up!”
The creature simply responded with an exasperated stare, then proceeded to look up as If thinking deeply.
“Hgnjes eknelofb fine.”
Xander stepped back. The first half of that sentence was gibberish but the last word was definitely fine.
“Did you just speak Acotyly? Can you understand me?”
The creature nodded in response.
“ Yeah ok wow. I make alien contact...maybe for the first time in my species history and it can even understand our language.” Xander began to pace the room, his mind running away with him. He stopped and gave a little excited hop.
“Oh I know! We will take you to the librarian! Maybe we can synthesize your speech!”
Xander rushes to the door, less walking and more flinging himself through. The creature followed at a walking pace. Crossing the threshold of the small abode the creature was greeted with on odd sight. Xander and it sat on a large prairie. Other small houses could be seen dotting the land scape. In the distance a large city could be seen. Most striking however was the fact that if you looked to the right or left the world curved up into the sky. It assumably met somewhere but a small yellow orb, a sun blocked the view. They appeared to be in a ring world.
“Interesting huh? No one knows how we got here. Far as we can tell our race started on this ring, full bio system, rain cycle , day, night, everything!” Xander gushed as they walked, assumably to the library
“When we finally where able to explore outside our ring we realized our system has another star! A Dyson sphere had been built around it completely. Utilizing its power combined with reverse engineering technology from the ring has allowed us to jump forward by leaps and bounds! We recently start colonizing other worlds, who know living on a sphere would be so different from living on a ring!”
Xander skipped forward before coming to a halt before a sleek cubic building.
“Come I’m inside!” Xander gave a hopping trot into the building. The creature followed. Inside was a singular dark room.
“ Library, awake!” Xander spoke into the darkness. The room inside lit up, walls of data projected from floor to ceiling.
“Hello Xander.” a soothing female voice emanated from seemingly all around them. “ I finished those scan for you, additionally my data base was updated with new findings from the colonists from Jarb 4, I figure you may be interested.”
“Jarb 4 can wait. What about those scans from the images I sent you. The creature is up and I brought it with me!”
“Well the scans took me some time but I eventually found similarity’s with ancient carvings found in the inter workings of the ring and the Dyson sphere. They are most likely human in origin, the Acotyly presumed progenitors and benefactors. The word itself translates to NASA which is to believed to be some branch of humanity that has existed in, or frequently visited space.”
(Whelp lunch is over got to go. If anyone likes I can finish this when I get home.) | |
[WP] Dear diary, I’ve been feeding this creature that fell from the sky for a few days. It strangely likes to drink water, the liquid we use to fuel cars. I noticed a patch on its suit today that read “NASA”. I’ll ask it tomorrow what that means. If that’s it’s name. | Dear diary, I’ve been feeding this creature that fell from the sky for a few days. It strangely likes to drink water, the liquid we use to fuel cars. I noticed a patch on its suit today that read “NASA”. I’ll ask it tomorrow what that means. If that’s its name.
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Dear diary, the creature doesn't speak zelch, I tried slokin, and gohnish too, but it doesn't respond. I don't know its name, the creature will always be "NASA" to me, whatever that means. How do you even say that? NASA.
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Dear diary, NASA started moving, it seems to be getting better. I saw the creature move today, and, and, you wouldn't believe, it walks on two legs! Two legs, yes, and its other limbs are free, just like ours, but, but, his limbs, there are only four of them. Did the others get blown away when it crashed?
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Dear diary, NASA hit me with a rock. It wasn't a large wound, a bandage was enough for it. The creature is getting hostile, and restless. I don't know how much longer I'll be able to keep it. I contacted the municipality today, they say they'll come and get it after the paperwork's done. Fingers crossed.
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Dear diary, thisss migt be the lst timee we talkkkk NASA, NASAAAA jussst came aaand ittt tooook theeee sssharpp end of the feeddeerr aaanddd ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, | I watched the small creature as it wandered around the PNA, its arms waving as it yelled to itself in the strangest language. NASA, or whatever its name was, had been here several days. I had given it some consumables and water. Water! if you can imagine something drinking *water* of all things.
&#x200B;
As I watched it, I noticed more words on its suit. It said U.S. SPACE FORCE. Huh. I opened the dwelling portal and stepped onto the grass of the PNA. I approached the creature. "Gi'nosh." I said to it. "Gooto morko." It stared at me. It was average hieght, about 3 minos tall, and had pale skin with black hair. It said something. I smiled and held up the Communication Device. I held it up to my mouth and said "hello." into it. I hoped it work. the Communication Device had cost 600 credits, so hopefully it could translate pri'noish into whatever this thing spoke. The world morphed into some odd-sounding world as the CD translated it. The creature stared and then said something. the CD translated it into "Gi'nosh." the word the creature had spoken was "hello." "Gorton Ri Yoko?" I asked. Once again, it translated into the words "who are you?" the creature spoke. I listened to the translation. The words he had spoken in his language was "Captain Markus Rivers, 31st Zeus Battalion of the United States Space Force."
we spoke to each other for a long time. Here is our conversation, translated into his language, which he called "English"
**ME:** How did you get here?
&#x200B;
**RIVERS:** my battalion was preparing to make the jump to hyperspace when we were hit by an asteroid. I managed to get into an escape pod, but my battalion wasn't so lucky.
My battalion died on my watch.
&#x200B;
**ME:** Where are you from?
&#x200B;
**RIVERS:** A planet called "Earth". Capital World of the United States of America.
&#x200B;
**ME:** What's that?
&#x200B;
**RIVERS:** The United States is a country in the southern galaxy made up of 13 star systems. You've probably never heard of it because you are in the northern galaxy.
&#x200B;
**ME:** What's this "United States" like?
&#x200B;
**RIVERS:** An amazing place of freedom and democracy. President Steven Carlton, our leader, just sent my battalion on a scouting mission, that's why we were here.
&#x200B;
**ME:** And then the asteroid hit.
&#x200B;
**RIVERS:** \*nods\* I lost them.... it's my fault...
&#x200B;
**ME:** No it's not. Hey, I have an idea!
&#x200B;
**RIVERS:** what?
&#x200B;
**ME:** Why don't we go back to your country? I can help you get there?
&#x200B;
**RIVERS:** You'd really help me?
&#x200B;
**ME:** of course!
&#x200B;
Thus, I am writing this down. Me and Mark are leaving today. We'll be flying to the Ergonian capital world to get a good ship to take us to Earth. Mark says I'll love it there. I have no doubt. | |
[WP] Dear diary, I’ve been feeding this creature that fell from the sky for a few days. It strangely likes to drink water, the liquid we use to fuel cars. I noticed a patch on its suit today that read “NASA”. I’ll ask it tomorrow what that means. If that’s it’s name. | This creature was strange, laying on the ground after it dragged itself from its ship. I hesitantly crept forward, laying flat on my stomach and dragging myself with my arms, just like it was. Maybe it was a sign of submission, a greeting? But when I saw a red trail behind it and sniffed what it was, I could taste the sharp and metallic essence at the back of my throat. It made my stomach heave, and my gills flared with alarm. This creature was hurt, and its life force was leaking from a crack in its stomach.
I was much larger than this creature, it seemed. It was nearly half my size. It had no tail, no gills, no wings or feathers. It was small and frail, weak. It looked malnourished as well. So I did what I could and picked it up in my arms. Spreading my wings, I took flight and brought the strange thing to the healer of our tribe. When I landed, every one of my tribemate’s eyes were on it. One flattened their ears and bared their fangs. Their tail lashed and gills flared aggressively. “What is it? Will it hurt us?”
I was unsure, but I still felt bad. “Have you no sympathy G’norak?” I roared back. “Move before it leaks too much.” I brought the leaking creature to the Hometree, and to the healer’s hollow. The shaman walked over and began to help it, like it would help us. But this creature seemed to be much more fragile. The shaman looked inside the transparent exoskeleton.
“That is not it’s head,” She realized. Gently removing the cracked exoskeleton, she realized that this creature was wearing clothes, and this white crackling substance was not its skin. There was runes on its exoskeleton clothes that read NASA.
“K’laki,” I said, pointing at the runes, “I think it is called Nasa. A strange name,” I tilted my head to the side. “But a pretty one.”
Over the next few Suncycles, this creature and I spent much time together. At first it huddled in the corner of my hollow in the Hometree, its eyes wide. It hissed strange language at me, and balled its fists together. It had claws, but they were blunt and not good for defense. Though, it did try to bite me once. Eventually though I learned, if I purred, it liked that. When I purred and reached out one hand after sheathing my claws, the creature was more friendly. It bared its teeth, but in a good way.
I learned that Nasa very much liked water, like we did! But it could not breathe it or swim as well as us. It didn’t have gills. I also saw that it didn’t like the high branches of the Hometree, and would wail when it got too frightened. It did not have wings, so I could see its distress. I would retrieve it and fly it somewhere safe. I have learned that Nasa also likes to eat many things, mainly the Waterfood and Plantfood.
Nasa did not say its name was something other than Nasa, but it made a chuffing sound that looked as if it was finding humor in the name. Sometimes it would make those funny sounds. But at the end of a Suncycle, when it was dark, Nasa would look up at the sky and make a terrible howling sound. Water came out of its eyes, and it would ball up helplessly. I was unsure what to do. I purred, and that seemed to make Nasa calm again. But one dark hour, I wrapped my wings around it. It made the howling again, but it huddled closer to me. Seeking emotional support, perhaps? I cradled it, and Nasa fell asleep soon after.
Nasa had never gone home. It has been hundreds of Suncycles, and it seemed to give up trying to repair it’s arrival pod. Nasa eventually became happier here with us, and began to learn our language. Today it said, “Good Suncycle,” When it awakened. It has leadned the words, “Water,” “Hungry,” “Sleep,” and “Happy.” It is still learning to pronounce, “Sad,” and “Angry.” It very much likes the word, “No.”
Nasa has become our friend in the village, and has even started hunting with us. It cannot fly, but likes riding on my back. Nasa can hold its breath in water, but I must watch closely and protect it. Eventually, even G’norak accepted Nasa as part of our tribe. Nasa seems happy, and that makes me happy. It still looks at the sky, and I think Nasa wants to go home, but also likes it here with us. Maybe one day more Nasa’s will arrive and bring it back home. But for now, I will keep Nasa safe under my wings. | I watched the small creature as it wandered around the PNA, its arms waving as it yelled to itself in the strangest language. NASA, or whatever its name was, had been here several days. I had given it some consumables and water. Water! if you can imagine something drinking *water* of all things.
&#x200B;
As I watched it, I noticed more words on its suit. It said U.S. SPACE FORCE. Huh. I opened the dwelling portal and stepped onto the grass of the PNA. I approached the creature. "Gi'nosh." I said to it. "Gooto morko." It stared at me. It was average hieght, about 3 minos tall, and had pale skin with black hair. It said something. I smiled and held up the Communication Device. I held it up to my mouth and said "hello." into it. I hoped it work. the Communication Device had cost 600 credits, so hopefully it could translate pri'noish into whatever this thing spoke. The world morphed into some odd-sounding world as the CD translated it. The creature stared and then said something. the CD translated it into "Gi'nosh." the word the creature had spoken was "hello." "Gorton Ri Yoko?" I asked. Once again, it translated into the words "who are you?" the creature spoke. I listened to the translation. The words he had spoken in his language was "Captain Markus Rivers, 31st Zeus Battalion of the United States Space Force."
we spoke to each other for a long time. Here is our conversation, translated into his language, which he called "English"
**ME:** How did you get here?
&#x200B;
**RIVERS:** my battalion was preparing to make the jump to hyperspace when we were hit by an asteroid. I managed to get into an escape pod, but my battalion wasn't so lucky.
My battalion died on my watch.
&#x200B;
**ME:** Where are you from?
&#x200B;
**RIVERS:** A planet called "Earth". Capital World of the United States of America.
&#x200B;
**ME:** What's that?
&#x200B;
**RIVERS:** The United States is a country in the southern galaxy made up of 13 star systems. You've probably never heard of it because you are in the northern galaxy.
&#x200B;
**ME:** What's this "United States" like?
&#x200B;
**RIVERS:** An amazing place of freedom and democracy. President Steven Carlton, our leader, just sent my battalion on a scouting mission, that's why we were here.
&#x200B;
**ME:** And then the asteroid hit.
&#x200B;
**RIVERS:** \*nods\* I lost them.... it's my fault...
&#x200B;
**ME:** No it's not. Hey, I have an idea!
&#x200B;
**RIVERS:** what?
&#x200B;
**ME:** Why don't we go back to your country? I can help you get there?
&#x200B;
**RIVERS:** You'd really help me?
&#x200B;
**ME:** of course!
&#x200B;
Thus, I am writing this down. Me and Mark are leaving today. We'll be flying to the Ergonian capital world to get a good ship to take us to Earth. Mark says I'll love it there. I have no doubt. | |
[WP] Dear diary, I’ve been feeding this creature that fell from the sky for a few days. It strangely likes to drink water, the liquid we use to fuel cars. I noticed a patch on its suit today that read “NASA”. I’ll ask it tomorrow what that means. If that’s it’s name. | Yanhen, 25nd of Kell, 5013.
Dear Diary, I hate keeping up with this sort of thing. I'm bad at Diaries but I think it's important to document this. Last night a large metal object fell from the sky. I'm going to check it out tomorrow, when my wife is at work.
Tunhen, 26th of Kell, 5013
Dear Diary. I checked out the metal object and it had a lot of indentations in it, did they mean something? There was also a clear substance making up part of the metal tube. The interior looked far too small for anything to be inside, was it trash thrown from a neighboring planet? That's illegal!
Gahhen, 27th of Kell 5013.
Dear Diary. I went to check out the object so I could file a complaint and there was a creature inside, about half my hight, and I'm small for a Jhen. It saw me through the clear parts of its walls and it froze up. It opened one of the indentations in the wall (was it a door? It's a very odd door) and walked towards me. Im not sure if it's intelligent, or if it's one of the weird pets they keep on Huyut.
Kelhen, 28th of Kell 5013.
Dear Diary. I took the creature home (sorry Yulah) and placed it on my bed. It looked scared. It was probably hungry. I tried offering it things to eat but it looked confused at the food. It made some strange noises that made me squeal. It's louder than it seems for something so small. As well I'm starting to suspect that it's body isn't it's "body" as it has no tail.
Yanhen, 29th of Kell 5013.
Hey Dairy. The creature seems hungry. Very hungry. I'm not even sure if it can breath our air, as it is primarily oxygen, but it might have to try soon. As well, I still haven't found anything to feed it. It seems it also needs to drink, like the Hayets on Huyut. It made more noises at me, definitely trying to communicate. It also doesn't understand any of the 13 official intergalactic languages.
Tunhen, 1st of Polk 5013
Hey Diary. Amazing news! It can breath Oxygen! It's language is alot less muffled now it has taken off its hat. But i still can't understand it. It has a strange fact, like someone shaved a Jhen's head. I tried written communication but its language is much different. It has a strange patch. I pointed at it and it said "NASA"... Is that its name?
Gahhen, 2nd of Polk 5013
Diary. Bad news. Terrible news. I accidentally left some of my motor parts in my room including my fuel and the NASA drank it. I don't want to kill it! It looks confused at my panicking, maybe it doesn't understand it will die? I killed a poor NASA!
Yanhen 4th of Polk 5013.
The NASA is still alive? In fact, it seems better off after it drank the water. How can a creature so weak drink such a strong poison? I think I'm starting to understand some of its words. "Hehloh" seems to be a greeting of sorts.
Yanhen 27th of Gakl 5028
I forgot out this thing. It's been a while since I met the human, that's that the NASA's species. Their name is Jehssy- Jessy. English is hard, (that's the human language). Turns out their planet is covered in car fuel, and they eat all sorts of things. From poison to other creatures. Jeh- Jessy is teaching me English, and I'm teaching her Jhenit. Her progress is going well. The thing that fuels her "space boat" isn't readily available though so I don't know if she's ever able to get back to her planet, she seems to be adjusting well. Last night another metal thing crashed though. It's been all over the news. And it has that same NASA writing on it. | I watched the small creature as it wandered around the PNA, its arms waving as it yelled to itself in the strangest language. NASA, or whatever its name was, had been here several days. I had given it some consumables and water. Water! if you can imagine something drinking *water* of all things.
&#x200B;
As I watched it, I noticed more words on its suit. It said U.S. SPACE FORCE. Huh. I opened the dwelling portal and stepped onto the grass of the PNA. I approached the creature. "Gi'nosh." I said to it. "Gooto morko." It stared at me. It was average hieght, about 3 minos tall, and had pale skin with black hair. It said something. I smiled and held up the Communication Device. I held it up to my mouth and said "hello." into it. I hoped it work. the Communication Device had cost 600 credits, so hopefully it could translate pri'noish into whatever this thing spoke. The world morphed into some odd-sounding world as the CD translated it. The creature stared and then said something. the CD translated it into "Gi'nosh." the word the creature had spoken was "hello." "Gorton Ri Yoko?" I asked. Once again, it translated into the words "who are you?" the creature spoke. I listened to the translation. The words he had spoken in his language was "Captain Markus Rivers, 31st Zeus Battalion of the United States Space Force."
we spoke to each other for a long time. Here is our conversation, translated into his language, which he called "English"
**ME:** How did you get here?
&#x200B;
**RIVERS:** my battalion was preparing to make the jump to hyperspace when we were hit by an asteroid. I managed to get into an escape pod, but my battalion wasn't so lucky.
My battalion died on my watch.
&#x200B;
**ME:** Where are you from?
&#x200B;
**RIVERS:** A planet called "Earth". Capital World of the United States of America.
&#x200B;
**ME:** What's that?
&#x200B;
**RIVERS:** The United States is a country in the southern galaxy made up of 13 star systems. You've probably never heard of it because you are in the northern galaxy.
&#x200B;
**ME:** What's this "United States" like?
&#x200B;
**RIVERS:** An amazing place of freedom and democracy. President Steven Carlton, our leader, just sent my battalion on a scouting mission, that's why we were here.
&#x200B;
**ME:** And then the asteroid hit.
&#x200B;
**RIVERS:** \*nods\* I lost them.... it's my fault...
&#x200B;
**ME:** No it's not. Hey, I have an idea!
&#x200B;
**RIVERS:** what?
&#x200B;
**ME:** Why don't we go back to your country? I can help you get there?
&#x200B;
**RIVERS:** You'd really help me?
&#x200B;
**ME:** of course!
&#x200B;
Thus, I am writing this down. Me and Mark are leaving today. We'll be flying to the Ergonian capital world to get a good ship to take us to Earth. Mark says I'll love it there. I have no doubt. | |
[WP] Dear diary, I’ve been feeding this creature that fell from the sky for a few days. It strangely likes to drink water, the liquid we use to fuel cars. I noticed a patch on its suit today that read “NASA”. I’ll ask it tomorrow what that means. If that’s it’s name. | Yanhen, 25nd of Kell, 5013.
Dear Diary, I hate keeping up with this sort of thing. I'm bad at Diaries but I think it's important to document this. Last night a large metal object fell from the sky. I'm going to check it out tomorrow, when my wife is at work.
Tunhen, 26th of Kell, 5013
Dear Diary. I checked out the metal object and it had a lot of indentations in it, did they mean something? There was also a clear substance making up part of the metal tube. The interior looked far too small for anything to be inside, was it trash thrown from a neighboring planet? That's illegal!
Gahhen, 27th of Kell 5013.
Dear Diary. I went to check out the object so I could file a complaint and there was a creature inside, about half my hight, and I'm small for a Jhen. It saw me through the clear parts of its walls and it froze up. It opened one of the indentations in the wall (was it a door? It's a very odd door) and walked towards me. Im not sure if it's intelligent, or if it's one of the weird pets they keep on Huyut.
Kelhen, 28th of Kell 5013.
Dear Diary. I took the creature home (sorry Yulah) and placed it on my bed. It looked scared. It was probably hungry. I tried offering it things to eat but it looked confused at the food. It made some strange noises that made me squeal. It's louder than it seems for something so small. As well I'm starting to suspect that it's body isn't it's "body" as it has no tail.
Yanhen, 29th of Kell 5013.
Hey Dairy. The creature seems hungry. Very hungry. I'm not even sure if it can breath our air, as it is primarily oxygen, but it might have to try soon. As well, I still haven't found anything to feed it. It seems it also needs to drink, like the Hayets on Huyut. It made more noises at me, definitely trying to communicate. It also doesn't understand any of the 13 official intergalactic languages.
Tunhen, 1st of Polk 5013
Hey Diary. Amazing news! It can breath Oxygen! It's language is alot less muffled now it has taken off its hat. But i still can't understand it. It has a strange fact, like someone shaved a Jhen's head. I tried written communication but its language is much different. It has a strange patch. I pointed at it and it said "NASA"... Is that its name?
Gahhen, 2nd of Polk 5013
Diary. Bad news. Terrible news. I accidentally left some of my motor parts in my room including my fuel and the NASA drank it. I don't want to kill it! It looks confused at my panicking, maybe it doesn't understand it will die? I killed a poor NASA!
Yanhen 4th of Polk 5013.
The NASA is still alive? In fact, it seems better off after it drank the water. How can a creature so weak drink such a strong poison? I think I'm starting to understand some of its words. "Hehloh" seems to be a greeting of sorts.
Yanhen 27th of Gakl 5028
I forgot out this thing. It's been a while since I met the human, that's that the NASA's species. Their name is Jehssy- Jessy. English is hard, (that's the human language). Turns out their planet is covered in car fuel, and they eat all sorts of things. From poison to other creatures. Jeh- Jessy is teaching me English, and I'm teaching her Jhenit. Her progress is going well. The thing that fuels her "space boat" isn't readily available though so I don't know if she's ever able to get back to her planet, she seems to be adjusting well. Last night another metal thing crashed though. It's been all over the news. And it has that same NASA writing on it. | Dear diary, I’ve been feeding this creature that fell from the sky for a few days. It strangely likes to drink water, the liquid we use to fuel cars. I noticed a patch on its suit today that read “NASA”. I’ll ask it tomorrow what that means. If that’s its name.
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear diary, the creature doesn't speak zelch, I tried slokin, and gohnish too, but it doesn't respond. I don't know its name, the creature will always be "NASA" to me, whatever that means. How do you even say that? NASA.
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear diary, NASA started moving, it seems to be getting better. I saw the creature move today, and, and, you wouldn't believe, it walks on two legs! Two legs, yes, and its other limbs are free, just like ours, but, but, his limbs, there are only four of them. Did the others get blown away when it crashed?
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear diary, NASA hit me with a rock. It wasn't a large wound, a bandage was enough for it. The creature is getting hostile, and restless. I don't know how much longer I'll be able to keep it. I contacted the municipality today, they say they'll come and get it after the paperwork's done. Fingers crossed.
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear diary, thisss migt be the lst timee we talkkkk NASA, NASAAAA jussst came aaand ittt tooook theeee sssharpp end of the feeddeerr aaanddd ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, | |
[WP] Dear diary, I’ve been feeding this creature that fell from the sky for a few days. It strangely likes to drink water, the liquid we use to fuel cars. I noticed a patch on its suit today that read “NASA”. I’ll ask it tomorrow what that means. If that’s it’s name. | It is still powered down right now.
I’m able to watch it from across the quarters, but I try not to stay too close for too long. I know some creatures have protective secretions during reboots and hibernation, so I don’t want to risk any airborne barbs or gasses that might seek out any of my orifices. I still have a lot to learn about this creature.
What was most interesting to me at first was the sheer size of the thing. Twice, maybe even thrice as big as the only one to come before it.
I still remember that day.
It was about 32 rotations ago when we all crowded around the plaza to observe the new visitor. It had fallen from the sky but our centrifugal barrier caught it before any further damage could come of it. We gathered around the small, lifeless body that was limply hanging in midair just a few zafrons above ground.
I knew they’d ask me to take a look, as had been my stated expertise from my studies all these rotations. Every orbit, I offered a new theory about extracelestial life. Most of my kin didn’t believe me. All of my competitors sought to discredit me. I couldn’t tell if they wanted my help with this creature because they believed me, or because they wanted to prove me wrong.
I looked closer at the creature, unsure if it still sustained life. Beneath what I now know to be a mask, its facial muscles twitched beneath the fibers that covered its whole being. It was alive. But just barely.
I spent over six rotations learning about this creature. It was only alive for the first two. Once, I took off the mask while we were outdoors. The creature gasped and its eyes grew large in what I now understood to be their expression of our emotion of panic. Indoors, it never gasped. There was something about our flora that must not react well with this creature. I kept it inside from then on out.
I found this creature fascinating, and it became one of my favorite parts of my routine. Every morning it jumped out of its nest and climbed to the highest rafters of the bunker. It swung from beam to beam before making its way to our kitchen. I often witnessed it drinking water and also even bathing in it. This was particularly curious to me as I had never thought to drink the stuff.
I had maintained a small stockpile of other items that had fallen in the same way this creature had, none of which had been living things before. Much of it I understood to be fuel, perhaps what extracelestials utilized for sustenance. I allowed the creature to try a sample once when it seemed eager to consume anything it could get its hands on. I quickly learned the creature loved the stuff - it showed a particular fondness for the one in the jar with a small image of a long, curved cylinder that was the same color as the sun. I tasted it once, too. Disgusting mush if you ask me.
After a couple rotations of tests and learning about what sustains and entertains this creature, one morning it didn’t arise to swing from the rafters. I didn’t see its small torso rise and fall with the pumping of its internal organs, and I didn’t see the facial muscles twitching beneath its body fibers. I slowly poured some water on its face but it just dripped to the floor. I didn’t understand the deep pang I was feeling inside of my body, and I suddenly had no desire to leave my home or continue to pursue my studies. This was an entirely foreign emotion to me, but it was flooding my body. It took me almost an entire rotation before I was willing to study again, and to continue testing on the lifeless creature.
This new creature, though, it was different. Much larger, in length and weight. Still smaller than me and my kin, though. It had far fewer fibers, less thick and less coarse and mostly centralized on the top of the head as opposed to densely covering the full body. What seemed entirely strange and surprising was that its vertebrae did not extend out beyond its torso the way the last creature’s had. I could only assume that this creature would not and could not so adeptly climb and swing through my bunker.
It, too, consumed ample amounts of water. It was undiscerning in its preference for the jarred sustenance, and seemed eager to consume anything I granted it access to.
I learned from the last creature, and understood the importance of wearing a mask to keep this one alive. I didn’t remove it except in the pressurized bunker.
The insignia on its clothing was similar to that of the creature’s from so many rotations ago. I felt a pang of memory and grief at seeing the strange “NASA” image that I had first seen in the plaza so long ago. I knew it implausible, but I felt this creature must somehow be connected to my creature I had grown to care for before its last waking days.
Rotations passed, and we entered a new orbit with additional extracelestials having entered our world over time. My peers in research took them in, some doing things that I...would have preferred not to know about.
It got bad when it started getting hotter, and we had to seek out a new safe place to colonize. Suddenly, our fuel was a priority as we sought to expand and explore far and wide. As the temperatures increased, our natural water supply began to dwindle. As more and more of us adventured out into the unknown, our vehicles required more fuel.
It became a battle of resources between the researchers and the explorers. We needed the water to sustain the life we were studying, but others demanded the water to fuel their exploits. My perspective was that we needed to continue research and protect our creature studies to better understand the universe we live in, to know where and how we can survive and thrive next. The explorers claimed they needed the water to protect the future of our civilization so that we didn’t die out before we established a new home. I could see both sides. But their side included the dehydration and eventual death of these creatures we had been caring for.
As my fellow researchers and I attempted to gameplan how we might be able to steal enough water from the reserves to sustain our creatures for the next rotation, what we didn’t realize is that the creatures had been communicating in their own way with each other this whole time.
What we didn’t realize is that the creatures had learned just as much about us as we had about them.
I thought I had been nurturing something small and innocent, a curious but gentle little creature like the fiber-covered one that used to swing from my rafters.
When we looked up from our blueprints to see our creatures standing around us, pointing our own lasers back at us, I knew I had been mistaken. | Year: N7, Month: Eenn, Day: Trint - NASA. What a lovely name. It's not a typical name that you'd find in a place like this but speaking it fills me with a calm and gentle feeling. It wore a white, bulky outfit, similar to the ones used for space maintenance. It had this black visor to which I could not look into, as it masked its true appearance. I asked the creature if that was its name, NASA, that is, but it stared blankly at me with a look similar to confusion. I asked again, and this time, it started making noises at me. It may have been trying to communicate with me. I was startled with its intelligence. It's much more intelligent than the average creature that lived here in these parts, because it wasn't average, and it didn't live here. Even with all its effort in trying to communicate, I couldn't understand it. It spoke in a tongue not of this world and made many noises I couldn't. If I don't know what it's saying, then it must not understand me either. What an extraordinary creature.
Year: N7, Month: Eenn, Day: Clolt - NASA, if that is in fact its name, looked distressed and weak. It hadn't eaten or drank anything for a while and made noises like it had trouble breathing. The air of this world consists of carbon dioxide, a gas needed for us to breathe, so it must intake the opposite. Oxygen, a poisonous gas. I brought it an oxygen tank from my dad's workbench, he's a famous scientist you know, and hope that he won't find out I took it. The creature opened up a panel located on the back of its life-sustaining suit and produced an empty oxygen tank. It swapped the two and connected a series of tubes to the full one. I heard a gas pump into his suit and it begins to take a deep breath. As for the food and liquids, I don't think it mattered. It would eat, somehow. I never saw it take off the helmet on its head. It wouldn't drink anything I gave it, though. It must like something. It got a piece of paper and wrote "H 2 O" on it. Water? As in the water we use to fuel machinery? Ok then. I had to siphon some water from my parents' vehicles to get enough water for it. I'm going to be in so much trouble if they find out. When I brought it the water, it nodded its head in thanks, took what water I had for it, and filled a special tank. After a minute, I heard sipping noises coming from its helmet. It started looking healthier than when I had found it, and that's good. I think I've made a new friend. I hope nothing bad ever happens to it.
Year: N7, Month: Eenn, Day: Knolt - My parents found out about NASA. They called the government or the military or whoever. They called someone and took NASA away from me. They're going to perform all sorts of tests on it. It's all my fault because I wasn't careful enough. Metaphorical tracks led straight to my room. NASA, if you can hear me, hold on. I'll try to help you. I just need enough time to prepare. I told my friends about NASA and how they took my alien friend away. Just you wait, we're going to break you out. We're going to help you get home too. I promise. | |
[WP] Dear diary, I’ve been feeding this creature that fell from the sky for a few days. It strangely likes to drink water, the liquid we use to fuel cars. I noticed a patch on its suit today that read “NASA”. I’ll ask it tomorrow what that means. If that’s it’s name. | Dear Diary,
I finally gathered the courage to ask the creature what the symbols "NASA" was. While it was drinking the daily water (I still can't get over it... water! Who drinks water?!), I pointed to its suit.
I asked, "what does that say?"
It didn't understand me at first, not until I used three of my hands to specify the small patch on its suit.
It made a sound that sounded like it came from its nose, all elongated vowels like "naaaaah saaaaah". It's strange, but I found it kind of pleasing to the soundorifices. But what was most surprising was that the creature spoke *from its mouth*! I guess it's not advanced enough to understand telepathy yet. No wonder it didn't understand my question!
After I asked, Nasa spoke a whole gaggle of syllables! It was so cool to listen to, like smooth marbles rolling in the mouth. I don't know what it was telling me, but I think this means that it trusts me now. It must be hard to know who to trust when you only have two eyes. I wonder how their species survives.
Don't tell Mom but when I came home, I tried making sounds with my mouth too. The vibrations of my voice tickled my throat. I didn't sound as nice as Nasa. My voice was thick and gravelly, like rocks crunching against each other. I don't see how I could keep this up for a whole conversation. Wouldn't my throat go raw from use?
It's better that I stick with telepathy. There's a reason we evolved to use it.
\*\*\*
Dear Diary,
I went to visit Nasa again today. It lives in its ship, a long thin strip of metal. It could barely fit two Parqons in there. I'd never seen a ship so small before, except maybe to transport home deliveries. How did Nasa travel here in it? Where did Nasa even travel from? I wish I could talk to it.
I tried asking it where it was from, but it didn't understand me. Just gobbled the water down in two quick gulps. I could see it travel down Nasa's throat! So weird! Like a little snakeworm wiggling inside. What if there is a snakeworm in there? That happened to my canispup once. You could see the wiggling dots in its poop. Mom insisted we give him away after that...
Nasa tried to ask me something, but I can't understand her garbled language. There are too many sounds and they slip and slide all over each other. It's hard to distinguish where a word starts and ends.
It pointed to itself and made a sound like "Sin-dee" then it pointed to me and waited. It did this a few times, and I think it was asking for my name. I guess Sindee is its actual name! So, I still don't know what Nasa is. Maybe it's the planet Sindee's from.
I tried to tell Sindee that I'm Qilyer. I still don't think I can get used to the noise coming from my mouth. I think Sindee understood, though, as it repeated my name. It sounds much better coming from Sindee.
I told Sindee that it was here on planet Criplail. It took a long time for it to understand. It's really more primitive than I anticipated. Even the dumbest Parqon would have understood after the second try. But it's been kind of fun trying to get Sindee to understand, kind of like training my canispup!
It took a lot of gesturing with all four of my arms, but Sindee finally understood. I gestured some more to ask where it was from. It said something that sounded like Erth. What a strange name! So gutteral! I tried to repeat it but it was too hard for me. Spoken language is really complex. How do such primitive creatures have the capacity to think about all the elements of language, like grammar and syntax, while also pushing air and forming mouth movements? It really is amazing!
\*\*\*
Dear Diary,
I saw Sindee fiddling with the ship today. From what I can gather, Sindee is running out of provisions. I offered it a packet of my glowing nutskins, but I guess it can't eat that. It couldn't crack it with its teeth! How silly is that? Teeth that can't even crack nutskins! Why even have teeth? Maybe its function is just to help with speech.
It seems like Sindee's ship has run out of fuel. That seemed like an easy fix. I tried to pour the water into the tank, but Sindee screamed at me. It sounded just like a wild owlscreecher! I was so surprised I dropped the cup completely and the water pooled over the ground.
The craziest part--Sindee was so shocked that it started leaking out of its eyes! It was clear, just like the water. I guess when it drinks so much water, it probably becomes water too. I'm not sure why Sindee was so hysterical. Its breathing was erratic and I was scared it might choke on its own water!
I quickly scooped the dropped water back into the cup and tried to show it that it was okay. Sindee just stared at it. It looked at the ground and then back into the cup. Then it spoke a string of words that I couldn't figure out at all. I don't really get what happened. It's not like things disappear once it hits the ground. It's a solid slate. Everything just settles on top.
Eventually, Sindee calmed down. It seemed wary to accept the cup this time, almost as if it was expecting the water to be changed. I urged Sindee to drink it--it seems like they need a lot of water and I can't siphon any more from the car today or else Mom will know. Luckily, she drives everywhere so won't notice a little missing here and there.
Sindee kept hesitating, but eventually, after I tipped the cup into her mouth, it did drink it. It really does seem like these creatures need a lot of supervision and care even for their most basic needs. I don't know what Sindee would have done if I hadn't found her.
Afterwards, Sindee showed me what was in the fuel tank. And it was the craziest thing! Did you know they still use petroleum as fuel?? I know! That's what the first Parqons used before we discovered cleaner methods. It surprises me more and more just how backwards Sindee's parqons are!
I said I'd try to help. Eventually Sindee understood and then it tried to strangle me!! Only, I realised afterwards that wrapping its two skinny arms wasn't actually an attack, but some sort of sign of affection? When it was squeezing me, I could feel just how soft and fleshy it actually was. Underneath the crinkly armour it wore, it was actually quite delicate. I could have crushed it easily between just two of my arms! Sindee's lucky that I think first and act second. That could have ended very badly for it. I'll need to find a way to tell it to be more careful in the future. You'd think that something so squishy would be more aware of dangers...
I'm not sure where I'm going to find petroleum. Sindee might have to remain here even longer. Maybe I can convince Mom to let it stay with us. It could be a replacement pet for my canispup.
\*\*\*
Dear Diary,
Sindee was gone when I went to visit today. The ship was gone too. I guess it found the petroleum it needed to return home. At least, I hope that's the case. Otherwise, it would mean the Order found it, and well... I'd rather not think about that.
I hope Sindee is safe. It's silly, but I do worry about it. It's so helpless, like a baby.
One day, when I grow up, I'm going to become a star walker. I'm going to fly to Erth and find Sindee, and the first thing I'm going to do is circle my two arms around it in an affection attack!
\*\*\*
Thanks for reading! If you'd like to see more from me, feel free to check out: r/rulerofstorybears | Year: N7, Month: Eenn, Day: Trint - NASA. What a lovely name. It's not a typical name that you'd find in a place like this but speaking it fills me with a calm and gentle feeling. It wore a white, bulky outfit, similar to the ones used for space maintenance. It had this black visor to which I could not look into, as it masked its true appearance. I asked the creature if that was its name, NASA, that is, but it stared blankly at me with a look similar to confusion. I asked again, and this time, it started making noises at me. It may have been trying to communicate with me. I was startled with its intelligence. It's much more intelligent than the average creature that lived here in these parts, because it wasn't average, and it didn't live here. Even with all its effort in trying to communicate, I couldn't understand it. It spoke in a tongue not of this world and made many noises I couldn't. If I don't know what it's saying, then it must not understand me either. What an extraordinary creature.
Year: N7, Month: Eenn, Day: Clolt - NASA, if that is in fact its name, looked distressed and weak. It hadn't eaten or drank anything for a while and made noises like it had trouble breathing. The air of this world consists of carbon dioxide, a gas needed for us to breathe, so it must intake the opposite. Oxygen, a poisonous gas. I brought it an oxygen tank from my dad's workbench, he's a famous scientist you know, and hope that he won't find out I took it. The creature opened up a panel located on the back of its life-sustaining suit and produced an empty oxygen tank. It swapped the two and connected a series of tubes to the full one. I heard a gas pump into his suit and it begins to take a deep breath. As for the food and liquids, I don't think it mattered. It would eat, somehow. I never saw it take off the helmet on its head. It wouldn't drink anything I gave it, though. It must like something. It got a piece of paper and wrote "H 2 O" on it. Water? As in the water we use to fuel machinery? Ok then. I had to siphon some water from my parents' vehicles to get enough water for it. I'm going to be in so much trouble if they find out. When I brought it the water, it nodded its head in thanks, took what water I had for it, and filled a special tank. After a minute, I heard sipping noises coming from its helmet. It started looking healthier than when I had found it, and that's good. I think I've made a new friend. I hope nothing bad ever happens to it.
Year: N7, Month: Eenn, Day: Knolt - My parents found out about NASA. They called the government or the military or whoever. They called someone and took NASA away from me. They're going to perform all sorts of tests on it. It's all my fault because I wasn't careful enough. Metaphorical tracks led straight to my room. NASA, if you can hear me, hold on. I'll try to help you. I just need enough time to prepare. I told my friends about NASA and how they took my alien friend away. Just you wait, we're going to break you out. We're going to help you get home too. I promise. | |
[WP] Dear diary, I’ve been feeding this creature that fell from the sky for a few days. It strangely likes to drink water, the liquid we use to fuel cars. I noticed a patch on its suit today that read “NASA”. I’ll ask it tomorrow what that means. If that’s it’s name. | It is still powered down right now.
I’m able to watch it from across the quarters, but I try not to stay too close for too long. I know some creatures have protective secretions during reboots and hibernation, so I don’t want to risk any airborne barbs or gasses that might seek out any of my orifices. I still have a lot to learn about this creature.
What was most interesting to me at first was the sheer size of the thing. Twice, maybe even thrice as big as the only one to come before it.
I still remember that day.
It was about 32 rotations ago when we all crowded around the plaza to observe the new visitor. It had fallen from the sky but our centrifugal barrier caught it before any further damage could come of it. We gathered around the small, lifeless body that was limply hanging in midair just a few zafrons above ground.
I knew they’d ask me to take a look, as had been my stated expertise from my studies all these rotations. Every orbit, I offered a new theory about extracelestial life. Most of my kin didn’t believe me. All of my competitors sought to discredit me. I couldn’t tell if they wanted my help with this creature because they believed me, or because they wanted to prove me wrong.
I looked closer at the creature, unsure if it still sustained life. Beneath what I now know to be a mask, its facial muscles twitched beneath the fibers that covered its whole being. It was alive. But just barely.
I spent over six rotations learning about this creature. It was only alive for the first two. Once, I took off the mask while we were outdoors. The creature gasped and its eyes grew large in what I now understood to be their expression of our emotion of panic. Indoors, it never gasped. There was something about our flora that must not react well with this creature. I kept it inside from then on out.
I found this creature fascinating, and it became one of my favorite parts of my routine. Every morning it jumped out of its nest and climbed to the highest rafters of the bunker. It swung from beam to beam before making its way to our kitchen. I often witnessed it drinking water and also even bathing in it. This was particularly curious to me as I had never thought to drink the stuff.
I had maintained a small stockpile of other items that had fallen in the same way this creature had, none of which had been living things before. Much of it I understood to be fuel, perhaps what extracelestials utilized for sustenance. I allowed the creature to try a sample once when it seemed eager to consume anything it could get its hands on. I quickly learned the creature loved the stuff - it showed a particular fondness for the one in the jar with a small image of a long, curved cylinder that was the same color as the sun. I tasted it once, too. Disgusting mush if you ask me.
After a couple rotations of tests and learning about what sustains and entertains this creature, one morning it didn’t arise to swing from the rafters. I didn’t see its small torso rise and fall with the pumping of its internal organs, and I didn’t see the facial muscles twitching beneath its body fibers. I slowly poured some water on its face but it just dripped to the floor. I didn’t understand the deep pang I was feeling inside of my body, and I suddenly had no desire to leave my home or continue to pursue my studies. This was an entirely foreign emotion to me, but it was flooding my body. It took me almost an entire rotation before I was willing to study again, and to continue testing on the lifeless creature.
This new creature, though, it was different. Much larger, in length and weight. Still smaller than me and my kin, though. It had far fewer fibers, less thick and less coarse and mostly centralized on the top of the head as opposed to densely covering the full body. What seemed entirely strange and surprising was that its vertebrae did not extend out beyond its torso the way the last creature’s had. I could only assume that this creature would not and could not so adeptly climb and swing through my bunker.
It, too, consumed ample amounts of water. It was undiscerning in its preference for the jarred sustenance, and seemed eager to consume anything I granted it access to.
I learned from the last creature, and understood the importance of wearing a mask to keep this one alive. I didn’t remove it except in the pressurized bunker.
The insignia on its clothing was similar to that of the creature’s from so many rotations ago. I felt a pang of memory and grief at seeing the strange “NASA” image that I had first seen in the plaza so long ago. I knew it implausible, but I felt this creature must somehow be connected to my creature I had grown to care for before its last waking days.
Rotations passed, and we entered a new orbit with additional extracelestials having entered our world over time. My peers in research took them in, some doing things that I...would have preferred not to know about.
It got bad when it started getting hotter, and we had to seek out a new safe place to colonize. Suddenly, our fuel was a priority as we sought to expand and explore far and wide. As the temperatures increased, our natural water supply began to dwindle. As more and more of us adventured out into the unknown, our vehicles required more fuel.
It became a battle of resources between the researchers and the explorers. We needed the water to sustain the life we were studying, but others demanded the water to fuel their exploits. My perspective was that we needed to continue research and protect our creature studies to better understand the universe we live in, to know where and how we can survive and thrive next. The explorers claimed they needed the water to protect the future of our civilization so that we didn’t die out before we established a new home. I could see both sides. But their side included the dehydration and eventual death of these creatures we had been caring for.
As my fellow researchers and I attempted to gameplan how we might be able to steal enough water from the reserves to sustain our creatures for the next rotation, what we didn’t realize is that the creatures had been communicating in their own way with each other this whole time.
What we didn’t realize is that the creatures had learned just as much about us as we had about them.
I thought I had been nurturing something small and innocent, a curious but gentle little creature like the fiber-covered one that used to swing from my rafters.
When we looked up from our blueprints to see our creatures standing around us, pointing our own lasers back at us, I knew I had been mistaken. | It fell from the sky in a tube that was much larger than it was. The shiny, metallic vessel stuck out of the ground in my backyard and up to where my tail begins, about 12 glips tall or so. I examined the smoking object, not wanting to touch it and be burned. Suddenly, a compartment opened, and out peered a most unusual being. It was made out of a sort of pinkish meat, with thick fur on it’s head, covered by a transparent dome helmet. The creature made a noise (with it’s mouth) and waved it’s fins at me.
I lowered my own fin, held it flat, and thought, “It’s alright, I mean you no harm.” I could hear it’s small brain whirring with activity, producing fear, then a lot of hard thinking, then relief. The creature thought “Can you hear my thoughts?” “Yes, of course.” I thought, feeling a tinge of shame at my curtness. “We all can, here, on HSX-324 I mean. Um, not to be rude, but what are you? I’ve never met one of your kind before.”
It looked at me, seeming a bit puzzled, then stepped onto my palm and thought, “I’m a human, from Earth. In the Milky Way Galaxy. This wrecked machine underneath me was my ship. I’ll return the question to you, because I’ve never met one of you guys either. Also, what is this place called?” I was a bit taken aback that someone didn’t recognize my species, I must admit. I answered quickly, “Oh, sure, I’m a Zerft, this planet is called HSX-324, I think I already told you that, maybe not, doesn’t matter.” I scratched the back of my head, between the second and third antenna and cleared 4/6 throats due to the awkwardness.
I then carried the creature into my dome. I got it to remove it’s head cover when I told it that we breathe oxygen here. I found out it’s name was Kenneth, a male. Kenneth requested water and was quite confused when I asked why. He claimed to drink water. Fucking weird, but whatever, it’s cheap. I poured some water into a bottlecap, then Kenneth cupped his hands and by Zerf, he actually drank water. I was staring at him, so he thought, “What?” I replied, “Kenneth, you’re drinking fuel, we fuel our vehicles with water.” He looked at me strangely, then shrugged and resumed his odd behavior.
I made Kenneth a bed, which only took like 20 minutes to print, including the sheets and pillows. He was very thankful, and slept quite well. There is a patch on what I found out was his suit, not his skin. It says “NASA”. I’ll ask him about it tomorrow. This was an odd day. I haven’t harbored an unknown species in a few years, but when I do, it’s always interesting. I do like Kenneth, so I won’t enjoy turning him over to the government for examination and vivisection. However, I must follow regulations. Sorry Kenneth. | |
[WP] Dear diary, I’ve been feeding this creature that fell from the sky for a few days. It strangely likes to drink water, the liquid we use to fuel cars. I noticed a patch on its suit today that read “NASA”. I’ll ask it tomorrow what that means. If that’s it’s name. | Dear Diary,
I finally gathered the courage to ask the creature what the symbols "NASA" was. While it was drinking the daily water (I still can't get over it... water! Who drinks water?!), I pointed to its suit.
I asked, "what does that say?"
It didn't understand me at first, not until I used three of my hands to specify the small patch on its suit.
It made a sound that sounded like it came from its nose, all elongated vowels like "naaaaah saaaaah". It's strange, but I found it kind of pleasing to the soundorifices. But what was most surprising was that the creature spoke *from its mouth*! I guess it's not advanced enough to understand telepathy yet. No wonder it didn't understand my question!
After I asked, Nasa spoke a whole gaggle of syllables! It was so cool to listen to, like smooth marbles rolling in the mouth. I don't know what it was telling me, but I think this means that it trusts me now. It must be hard to know who to trust when you only have two eyes. I wonder how their species survives.
Don't tell Mom but when I came home, I tried making sounds with my mouth too. The vibrations of my voice tickled my throat. I didn't sound as nice as Nasa. My voice was thick and gravelly, like rocks crunching against each other. I don't see how I could keep this up for a whole conversation. Wouldn't my throat go raw from use?
It's better that I stick with telepathy. There's a reason we evolved to use it.
\*\*\*
Dear Diary,
I went to visit Nasa again today. It lives in its ship, a long thin strip of metal. It could barely fit two Parqons in there. I'd never seen a ship so small before, except maybe to transport home deliveries. How did Nasa travel here in it? Where did Nasa even travel from? I wish I could talk to it.
I tried asking it where it was from, but it didn't understand me. Just gobbled the water down in two quick gulps. I could see it travel down Nasa's throat! So weird! Like a little snakeworm wiggling inside. What if there is a snakeworm in there? That happened to my canispup once. You could see the wiggling dots in its poop. Mom insisted we give him away after that...
Nasa tried to ask me something, but I can't understand her garbled language. There are too many sounds and they slip and slide all over each other. It's hard to distinguish where a word starts and ends.
It pointed to itself and made a sound like "Sin-dee" then it pointed to me and waited. It did this a few times, and I think it was asking for my name. I guess Sindee is its actual name! So, I still don't know what Nasa is. Maybe it's the planet Sindee's from.
I tried to tell Sindee that I'm Qilyer. I still don't think I can get used to the noise coming from my mouth. I think Sindee understood, though, as it repeated my name. It sounds much better coming from Sindee.
I told Sindee that it was here on planet Criplail. It took a long time for it to understand. It's really more primitive than I anticipated. Even the dumbest Parqon would have understood after the second try. But it's been kind of fun trying to get Sindee to understand, kind of like training my canispup!
It took a lot of gesturing with all four of my arms, but Sindee finally understood. I gestured some more to ask where it was from. It said something that sounded like Erth. What a strange name! So gutteral! I tried to repeat it but it was too hard for me. Spoken language is really complex. How do such primitive creatures have the capacity to think about all the elements of language, like grammar and syntax, while also pushing air and forming mouth movements? It really is amazing!
\*\*\*
Dear Diary,
I saw Sindee fiddling with the ship today. From what I can gather, Sindee is running out of provisions. I offered it a packet of my glowing nutskins, but I guess it can't eat that. It couldn't crack it with its teeth! How silly is that? Teeth that can't even crack nutskins! Why even have teeth? Maybe its function is just to help with speech.
It seems like Sindee's ship has run out of fuel. That seemed like an easy fix. I tried to pour the water into the tank, but Sindee screamed at me. It sounded just like a wild owlscreecher! I was so surprised I dropped the cup completely and the water pooled over the ground.
The craziest part--Sindee was so shocked that it started leaking out of its eyes! It was clear, just like the water. I guess when it drinks so much water, it probably becomes water too. I'm not sure why Sindee was so hysterical. Its breathing was erratic and I was scared it might choke on its own water!
I quickly scooped the dropped water back into the cup and tried to show it that it was okay. Sindee just stared at it. It looked at the ground and then back into the cup. Then it spoke a string of words that I couldn't figure out at all. I don't really get what happened. It's not like things disappear once it hits the ground. It's a solid slate. Everything just settles on top.
Eventually, Sindee calmed down. It seemed wary to accept the cup this time, almost as if it was expecting the water to be changed. I urged Sindee to drink it--it seems like they need a lot of water and I can't siphon any more from the car today or else Mom will know. Luckily, she drives everywhere so won't notice a little missing here and there.
Sindee kept hesitating, but eventually, after I tipped the cup into her mouth, it did drink it. It really does seem like these creatures need a lot of supervision and care even for their most basic needs. I don't know what Sindee would have done if I hadn't found her.
Afterwards, Sindee showed me what was in the fuel tank. And it was the craziest thing! Did you know they still use petroleum as fuel?? I know! That's what the first Parqons used before we discovered cleaner methods. It surprises me more and more just how backwards Sindee's parqons are!
I said I'd try to help. Eventually Sindee understood and then it tried to strangle me!! Only, I realised afterwards that wrapping its two skinny arms wasn't actually an attack, but some sort of sign of affection? When it was squeezing me, I could feel just how soft and fleshy it actually was. Underneath the crinkly armour it wore, it was actually quite delicate. I could have crushed it easily between just two of my arms! Sindee's lucky that I think first and act second. That could have ended very badly for it. I'll need to find a way to tell it to be more careful in the future. You'd think that something so squishy would be more aware of dangers...
I'm not sure where I'm going to find petroleum. Sindee might have to remain here even longer. Maybe I can convince Mom to let it stay with us. It could be a replacement pet for my canispup.
\*\*\*
Dear Diary,
Sindee was gone when I went to visit today. The ship was gone too. I guess it found the petroleum it needed to return home. At least, I hope that's the case. Otherwise, it would mean the Order found it, and well... I'd rather not think about that.
I hope Sindee is safe. It's silly, but I do worry about it. It's so helpless, like a baby.
One day, when I grow up, I'm going to become a star walker. I'm going to fly to Erth and find Sindee, and the first thing I'm going to do is circle my two arms around it in an affection attack!
\*\*\*
Thanks for reading! If you'd like to see more from me, feel free to check out: r/rulerofstorybears | It fell from the sky in a tube that was much larger than it was. The shiny, metallic vessel stuck out of the ground in my backyard and up to where my tail begins, about 12 glips tall or so. I examined the smoking object, not wanting to touch it and be burned. Suddenly, a compartment opened, and out peered a most unusual being. It was made out of a sort of pinkish meat, with thick fur on it’s head, covered by a transparent dome helmet. The creature made a noise (with it’s mouth) and waved it’s fins at me.
I lowered my own fin, held it flat, and thought, “It’s alright, I mean you no harm.” I could hear it’s small brain whirring with activity, producing fear, then a lot of hard thinking, then relief. The creature thought “Can you hear my thoughts?” “Yes, of course.” I thought, feeling a tinge of shame at my curtness. “We all can, here, on HSX-324 I mean. Um, not to be rude, but what are you? I’ve never met one of your kind before.”
It looked at me, seeming a bit puzzled, then stepped onto my palm and thought, “I’m a human, from Earth. In the Milky Way Galaxy. This wrecked machine underneath me was my ship. I’ll return the question to you, because I’ve never met one of you guys either. Also, what is this place called?” I was a bit taken aback that someone didn’t recognize my species, I must admit. I answered quickly, “Oh, sure, I’m a Zerft, this planet is called HSX-324, I think I already told you that, maybe not, doesn’t matter.” I scratched the back of my head, between the second and third antenna and cleared 4/6 throats due to the awkwardness.
I then carried the creature into my dome. I got it to remove it’s head cover when I told it that we breathe oxygen here. I found out it’s name was Kenneth, a male. Kenneth requested water and was quite confused when I asked why. He claimed to drink water. Fucking weird, but whatever, it’s cheap. I poured some water into a bottlecap, then Kenneth cupped his hands and by Zerf, he actually drank water. I was staring at him, so he thought, “What?” I replied, “Kenneth, you’re drinking fuel, we fuel our vehicles with water.” He looked at me strangely, then shrugged and resumed his odd behavior.
I made Kenneth a bed, which only took like 20 minutes to print, including the sheets and pillows. He was very thankful, and slept quite well. There is a patch on what I found out was his suit, not his skin. It says “NASA”. I’ll ask him about it tomorrow. This was an odd day. I haven’t harbored an unknown species in a few years, but when I do, it’s always interesting. I do like Kenneth, so I won’t enjoy turning him over to the government for examination and vivisection. However, I must follow regulations. Sorry Kenneth. | |
[WP] Dear diary, I’ve been feeding this creature that fell from the sky for a few days. It strangely likes to drink water, the liquid we use to fuel cars. I noticed a patch on its suit today that read “NASA”. I’ll ask it tomorrow what that means. If that’s it’s name. | Dear diary,
This is my first entry into this notebook. I don’t really know why I’m doing this, but I guess that it will help me record everything about the creature that I found. Yesterday, something out of metals hit the surface of my jakura-fields, right from the sky. It resembled a bit our space-racers, but it was too small to actually being able to contain enough fuel to even start flying and there was a single creature inside of it. I don’t think that only one creature would be able to do everything that needs to be done on a space-racer. I let it slide and picked the creature up, guessing that this kind was able to multitask.
The creature was weird. I knew that there existed other living forms on other planets, we even made alliance with the Dar-najun’s a decade ago, but this creature looked just...weird. It was nothing that I knew of, it didn’t resemble any of the aliens in a few light-years of radius away. It was boney and soft and had a weird bubble of glass around its head. I laid it on my bed and examined its body for a few moments. My antennas wiggled excited, not ever seeing such kind of fascinating skeleton and complex set of organs, and my feathers couldn’t stop themselves from puffing up.
After a while I figured it was safe to take of the weird costume, that probably had a decorative, maybe ritual or religious background. If it was sacred, I hoped the creature would forgive me. But I’m sure it will, when it realizes that it was essential for tending its wounds. If it even had that level of cognitive and rational thinking.
I wanted to put the glass on the table beside me, when I heard a weird, painful moan. I dropped the glass and my feathers turned a dark purple out of fear. I turned to the creature. It was covering the sides of its head after the glass bubble made a loud noise when it crashed onto the floor. At least I know where their hearing-organs are.
After a few moments of silence filled with heavy breaths that came from the creature, its energy around it changed from confused to panic. It’s hands quickly touched their face and their body. My antennas became still out of the amount of fear the creature gave and I couldn’t help but gasp. It’s head immediately shot to me, it’s face filled pure fear of survival. It looked at the costume in my hands and at the glass bubble on the floor and put its own hand around the place where an organ that my antennas detected earlier gave it life force. The creature half-closed it’s eyes, staring at me. The rhythmic beat of the organ seemed to relax the creature and it sighed.
It widened its eyes and stared at me. The orbs seemed so intelligent, and at the same time ready to either fight or flee for its survival. I slowly put the costume away, almost inching to not to alarm the creature. My antennas reached out to it to read its emotions better. The creature eyed them warily. It seemed like they don’t trust strangers. One point to intelligence.
It’s gaze came back to my eyes and I slowly sat down. The creature barked something and I couldn’t help but to click out of surprise. The creature shuffled back, it’s back plastered to the wall. It frowned and gave out the exact same click. I almost jumped out of my clothes hearing it.
“You are good at mimicry,” I said, making the creature frown.
My antennas detected confusion. Why did I expect it to speak the same language as I? I don’t know. It kinda slipped out.
Anyway, I bit my tongue and sat on the floor, lowering my gaze to show it that I’m no treat.
Seconds after, I heard shuffles of material and pained groans. I looked up, to see the creature on the floor too, it’s limbs crossed in a weird way. It bared it’s teeth. My feathers straightened up, making themselves sharp and ready to stab someone. My antennas put me at ease, assuring that baring the teeth was supposed to be a weird way to show sympathy.
“You...re’good ‘t mimicry,” it said slowly in broken Ugalian, tripping at the clicks a few times.
In conclusion: the creature can mimic noises with impressively good quality, but only with practice and without knowing what it just mimicked. Short clicks are easier to mimic, complex sentences are confusing for their tongue.
It apparently started to give me trust, because he rolled up the clothes around it’s chest and showed me a deep wound and a few bruises. Then he lost consciousness, falling right into my arms. If that isn’t a sign of trust, then I don’t know what it could be.
+++
Dear diary, I’ve been feeding the creature different things for a few days now. It strangely loves to consume water, especially when it’s the fuel that is used to fuel cars. When it came to the other things, it was more cautious. It observed me closely as I gave it food and liquids and took just a small bite or a tiny sip before he either spit it out and showed it away, making a gesture with its head, or consuming it with satisfaction. It remembered too after two days what things it liked and disliked.
So:
-It has a short-term memory, potential long-term.
-it likes water for some reason.
-it likes corns the most.
I also found a patch on the costume. It read 'NASA'. I don’t know the meaning of it, but I’ll ask it tomorrow. Now the creature is sleepy and needs rest. I already suspect that NASA is the creatures name.
Other notes:
-DO NOT GIVE IT KADINEM, I SWEAR I THOUGHT IT WOULD DIE IN MY ARMS. It forgave me though. Or at least I think. It didn’t want to consume anything after trying kadinem.
-for some crazy reason it loves caffeine. Yes, I’m serious, that poison. That son of a gun consumed caffeine and it apparently helped the creature stay awake???
-> make tests about durability of the creature against poisons and how much it benefits it to consume them
-it has a rhythm where it lies down on my bed or anything that is even a bit comfortable and doesn’t move for around ten hours to preserve energy. It is normal. It isn’t dying. I think.
-> the creature’s equivalent to our relaxation?
-it has sensitive nerves and it experiences pain more than my kind (or all us known species in space for that matter) it was hard for me to tend its wounds.
-> check what amount of pain is tolerable for the creature because it sometimes sheds water out of their eyes.
(-> the eye-water thing: an emotional? reaction to too much pain)
+++
Dear diary,
NASA isn’t the creatures name. It took a long time for it to understand, and that after I used written language and images.
I drew myself and the creature on a whiteboard.
“Me,” I said and pointed at myself. The creature mimicked me clumsily. “You,” I pointed at the creature and it nodded.
“My name,” I said, pointing at the board and writing the word ‘name’ above the drawing of myself. “Is Esal,” I said and wrote my name beside the word 'name'.
I looked at the creature. It was confused. I sighed.
“Me,” I pointed at myself. “Esal,” I pointed at my name on the board. “Me, Esal. Esal is a name.”
I needed to repeat it once more for the creature to understand.
“You Esal,” it said and I couldn’t help it but scream out of joy and clapping my hands. My feathers changed to a happy yellow. It bared it’s teeth again.
“You?” I asked and showed it the patch. “NASA?”
It gave again a gesture that I understood as a 'no'.
“Cecil.”
Note:
-that creatures language is hard. No wonder it has the ability to mimicry so good
I tried to learn to say the name, but it took way too long. The creature proposed to be called 'Ce'. It was honestly a lot more easier.
I asked him afterwards what NASA was. My antennas detected unsureness and hesitation, not knowing how to explain what NASA was. It tried to draw and explain it to me, but together we decided that it wasn’t really worth it. The only thing that I understood was that NASA was behind the tiny metal space-racer, but nothing more.
Other notes:
-it likes to do different things. After it healed, it started to get bored and did so many things just to keep entertained.
-> keep it busy, try to continue it to learn Ugalian because I have a headache and my hands hurt from pointing and drawing everything.
-hot things have an opposite effect as caffeine; either if it is the sun shining at its face or a warm room/blanket or liquid makes it drowsy.
-IT APPARENTLY IS NORMAL FOR THEM TO CONSUME THE DEADLY BANKUJ, THAT CREATURE CAN EAT DEATH
I AM DONE
**im a new writer so criticism is really helpful!** | It fell from the sky in a tube that was much larger than it was. The shiny, metallic vessel stuck out of the ground in my backyard and up to where my tail begins, about 12 glips tall or so. I examined the smoking object, not wanting to touch it and be burned. Suddenly, a compartment opened, and out peered a most unusual being. It was made out of a sort of pinkish meat, with thick fur on it’s head, covered by a transparent dome helmet. The creature made a noise (with it’s mouth) and waved it’s fins at me.
I lowered my own fin, held it flat, and thought, “It’s alright, I mean you no harm.” I could hear it’s small brain whirring with activity, producing fear, then a lot of hard thinking, then relief. The creature thought “Can you hear my thoughts?” “Yes, of course.” I thought, feeling a tinge of shame at my curtness. “We all can, here, on HSX-324 I mean. Um, not to be rude, but what are you? I’ve never met one of your kind before.”
It looked at me, seeming a bit puzzled, then stepped onto my palm and thought, “I’m a human, from Earth. In the Milky Way Galaxy. This wrecked machine underneath me was my ship. I’ll return the question to you, because I’ve never met one of you guys either. Also, what is this place called?” I was a bit taken aback that someone didn’t recognize my species, I must admit. I answered quickly, “Oh, sure, I’m a Zerft, this planet is called HSX-324, I think I already told you that, maybe not, doesn’t matter.” I scratched the back of my head, between the second and third antenna and cleared 4/6 throats due to the awkwardness.
I then carried the creature into my dome. I got it to remove it’s head cover when I told it that we breathe oxygen here. I found out it’s name was Kenneth, a male. Kenneth requested water and was quite confused when I asked why. He claimed to drink water. Fucking weird, but whatever, it’s cheap. I poured some water into a bottlecap, then Kenneth cupped his hands and by Zerf, he actually drank water. I was staring at him, so he thought, “What?” I replied, “Kenneth, you’re drinking fuel, we fuel our vehicles with water.” He looked at me strangely, then shrugged and resumed his odd behavior.
I made Kenneth a bed, which only took like 20 minutes to print, including the sheets and pillows. He was very thankful, and slept quite well. There is a patch on what I found out was his suit, not his skin. It says “NASA”. I’ll ask him about it tomorrow. This was an odd day. I haven’t harbored an unknown species in a few years, but when I do, it’s always interesting. I do like Kenneth, so I won’t enjoy turning him over to the government for examination and vivisection. However, I must follow regulations. Sorry Kenneth. | |
[WP] Dear diary, I’ve been feeding this creature that fell from the sky for a few days. It strangely likes to drink water, the liquid we use to fuel cars. I noticed a patch on its suit today that read “NASA”. I’ll ask it tomorrow what that means. If that’s it’s name. | Three days after his fall, NASA still hadn't spoken to me.
It quickly became clear that this creature was unaccustomed to the ways of my people. We Quelbrigs have been here for millennia, and most neighboring planets are at the very least aware of us. But not NASA.
I’d managed to piece together the sounds of its name from what little English I knew. Remnants of the ancient language were peppered across my planet, but I hadn’t studied it, or its origins, extensively. The creature appeared perturbed when I called it "NASA," but it hadn't given me any alternatives, so there it was.
I'd tried all of the traditional Quelbrig hospitality - a plate of pickled tentacles made with my grandmother's recipe, a performance of our national anthem by the neighborhood quartet. Still nothing.
NASA began to draw crowds. I peered outside my PlexiDome each morning to find a sea of curious, gray Quelbrig heads trying to catch a glimpse of the creature. For the time being, I'd put NASA up in my guest-pod. It didn't seem to want to go outside anyway.
I decided to pay a visit to the town historian, Sleeg. As soon as I mentioned NASA, he perked up.
"I was hoping you'd stop by, Meeko," he said, pulling a miniscreen out of a drawer. "That creature you're currently housing is a 'human.'"
"A what?" I asked.
"A human. Relatively harmless - although, as a species, they have a history of infighting. At some point, many millennia ago, there was a mass exodus to other planets. This planet - ours - became inhospitable to them for a number of reasons. I wouldn't ask NASA about it; it was all rather traumatic. But perhaps you can ask him what led him back here...to the planet he once inhabited."
"How?" I asked. "He doesn't speak a lick of Quelbrigese."
"Have patience, young Meeko," Sleeg said with a grin.
Over the next few days, I made some half-hearted attempts at grunting before I realized that pointing and gesturing would do the trick. I mimicked NASA's fall from the sky with my fingers, then tilted my head to indicate a question. NASA sighed, stood up, and walked to our refrigeration pod. He pointed at it, then pointed to himself. Ah. Cryogenic freezing, perhaps.
NASA then made an explosion noise with his mouth and repeated the gesture of his fall to Earth.
I shook my head in dismay. Whatever act of self-preservation the humans intended had clearly gone terribly wrong.
I returned to Sleeg's hut every night to learn every shred of information I could. I learned about the technological skeletons humans had left behind, and how we'd built our society from them. I learned about their homes, their families, their mating. There wasn't as much as I'd have liked, due largely to the antiquity of the original recordings, but it was enough.
I learned that our planet's air was safe for humans to breathe, so I allowed NASA to remove its helmet - sorry, *his* helmet. I let him step into our cleansing pod. He started to eat more of our food, albeit begrudgingly. He stepped outside and went for walks, paying no mind to the stares of my neighbors.
On the nineteenth day after NASA's fall, I turned out all the lights in the house and waited for him to come back from his walk. Then I turned them all on to reveal a small group of us, standing in the living room, who yelled "SURPRISE!" in broken English.
NASA covered his mouth with his hands, but couldn't hide the smile bursting onto his face. He stepped over to look at the Quelbrig sweetcakes I'd prepared, which spelled out "WELLCOM HOME" in icing.
He took a bite of the sweetcake, and I saw him laugh for the first time.
As he smiled and greeted everyone, cheerily gesturing and nodding, I was fully convinced that NASA would acclimate to our ways. Perhaps I'd learn his name; perhaps he'd learn our language. Perhaps he'd move into his own pod and become one of us.
But for now, being here - with the scent of sweetcakes and the sound of multispecies laughter filling the room - was enough. | It fell from the sky in a tube that was much larger than it was. The shiny, metallic vessel stuck out of the ground in my backyard and up to where my tail begins, about 12 glips tall or so. I examined the smoking object, not wanting to touch it and be burned. Suddenly, a compartment opened, and out peered a most unusual being. It was made out of a sort of pinkish meat, with thick fur on it’s head, covered by a transparent dome helmet. The creature made a noise (with it’s mouth) and waved it’s fins at me.
I lowered my own fin, held it flat, and thought, “It’s alright, I mean you no harm.” I could hear it’s small brain whirring with activity, producing fear, then a lot of hard thinking, then relief. The creature thought “Can you hear my thoughts?” “Yes, of course.” I thought, feeling a tinge of shame at my curtness. “We all can, here, on HSX-324 I mean. Um, not to be rude, but what are you? I’ve never met one of your kind before.”
It looked at me, seeming a bit puzzled, then stepped onto my palm and thought, “I’m a human, from Earth. In the Milky Way Galaxy. This wrecked machine underneath me was my ship. I’ll return the question to you, because I’ve never met one of you guys either. Also, what is this place called?” I was a bit taken aback that someone didn’t recognize my species, I must admit. I answered quickly, “Oh, sure, I’m a Zerft, this planet is called HSX-324, I think I already told you that, maybe not, doesn’t matter.” I scratched the back of my head, between the second and third antenna and cleared 4/6 throats due to the awkwardness.
I then carried the creature into my dome. I got it to remove it’s head cover when I told it that we breathe oxygen here. I found out it’s name was Kenneth, a male. Kenneth requested water and was quite confused when I asked why. He claimed to drink water. Fucking weird, but whatever, it’s cheap. I poured some water into a bottlecap, then Kenneth cupped his hands and by Zerf, he actually drank water. I was staring at him, so he thought, “What?” I replied, “Kenneth, you’re drinking fuel, we fuel our vehicles with water.” He looked at me strangely, then shrugged and resumed his odd behavior.
I made Kenneth a bed, which only took like 20 minutes to print, including the sheets and pillows. He was very thankful, and slept quite well. There is a patch on what I found out was his suit, not his skin. It says “NASA”. I’ll ask him about it tomorrow. This was an odd day. I haven’t harbored an unknown species in a few years, but when I do, it’s always interesting. I do like Kenneth, so I won’t enjoy turning him over to the government for examination and vivisection. However, I must follow regulations. Sorry Kenneth. | |
[WP] Dear diary, I’ve been feeding this creature that fell from the sky for a few days. It strangely likes to drink water, the liquid we use to fuel cars. I noticed a patch on its suit today that read “NASA”. I’ll ask it tomorrow what that means. If that’s it’s name. | It is still powered down right now.
I’m able to watch it from across the quarters, but I try not to stay too close for too long. I know some creatures have protective secretions during reboots and hibernation, so I don’t want to risk any airborne barbs or gasses that might seek out any of my orifices. I still have a lot to learn about this creature.
What was most interesting to me at first was the sheer size of the thing. Twice, maybe even thrice as big as the only one to come before it.
I still remember that day.
It was about 32 rotations ago when we all crowded around the plaza to observe the new visitor. It had fallen from the sky but our centrifugal barrier caught it before any further damage could come of it. We gathered around the small, lifeless body that was limply hanging in midair just a few zafrons above ground.
I knew they’d ask me to take a look, as had been my stated expertise from my studies all these rotations. Every orbit, I offered a new theory about extracelestial life. Most of my kin didn’t believe me. All of my competitors sought to discredit me. I couldn’t tell if they wanted my help with this creature because they believed me, or because they wanted to prove me wrong.
I looked closer at the creature, unsure if it still sustained life. Beneath what I now know to be a mask, its facial muscles twitched beneath the fibers that covered its whole being. It was alive. But just barely.
I spent over six rotations learning about this creature. It was only alive for the first two. Once, I took off the mask while we were outdoors. The creature gasped and its eyes grew large in what I now understood to be their expression of our emotion of panic. Indoors, it never gasped. There was something about our flora that must not react well with this creature. I kept it inside from then on out.
I found this creature fascinating, and it became one of my favorite parts of my routine. Every morning it jumped out of its nest and climbed to the highest rafters of the bunker. It swung from beam to beam before making its way to our kitchen. I often witnessed it drinking water and also even bathing in it. This was particularly curious to me as I had never thought to drink the stuff.
I had maintained a small stockpile of other items that had fallen in the same way this creature had, none of which had been living things before. Much of it I understood to be fuel, perhaps what extracelestials utilized for sustenance. I allowed the creature to try a sample once when it seemed eager to consume anything it could get its hands on. I quickly learned the creature loved the stuff - it showed a particular fondness for the one in the jar with a small image of a long, curved cylinder that was the same color as the sun. I tasted it once, too. Disgusting mush if you ask me.
After a couple rotations of tests and learning about what sustains and entertains this creature, one morning it didn’t arise to swing from the rafters. I didn’t see its small torso rise and fall with the pumping of its internal organs, and I didn’t see the facial muscles twitching beneath its body fibers. I slowly poured some water on its face but it just dripped to the floor. I didn’t understand the deep pang I was feeling inside of my body, and I suddenly had no desire to leave my home or continue to pursue my studies. This was an entirely foreign emotion to me, but it was flooding my body. It took me almost an entire rotation before I was willing to study again, and to continue testing on the lifeless creature.
This new creature, though, it was different. Much larger, in length and weight. Still smaller than me and my kin, though. It had far fewer fibers, less thick and less coarse and mostly centralized on the top of the head as opposed to densely covering the full body. What seemed entirely strange and surprising was that its vertebrae did not extend out beyond its torso the way the last creature’s had. I could only assume that this creature would not and could not so adeptly climb and swing through my bunker.
It, too, consumed ample amounts of water. It was undiscerning in its preference for the jarred sustenance, and seemed eager to consume anything I granted it access to.
I learned from the last creature, and understood the importance of wearing a mask to keep this one alive. I didn’t remove it except in the pressurized bunker.
The insignia on its clothing was similar to that of the creature’s from so many rotations ago. I felt a pang of memory and grief at seeing the strange “NASA” image that I had first seen in the plaza so long ago. I knew it implausible, but I felt this creature must somehow be connected to my creature I had grown to care for before its last waking days.
Rotations passed, and we entered a new orbit with additional extracelestials having entered our world over time. My peers in research took them in, some doing things that I...would have preferred not to know about.
It got bad when it started getting hotter, and we had to seek out a new safe place to colonize. Suddenly, our fuel was a priority as we sought to expand and explore far and wide. As the temperatures increased, our natural water supply began to dwindle. As more and more of us adventured out into the unknown, our vehicles required more fuel.
It became a battle of resources between the researchers and the explorers. We needed the water to sustain the life we were studying, but others demanded the water to fuel their exploits. My perspective was that we needed to continue research and protect our creature studies to better understand the universe we live in, to know where and how we can survive and thrive next. The explorers claimed they needed the water to protect the future of our civilization so that we didn’t die out before we established a new home. I could see both sides. But their side included the dehydration and eventual death of these creatures we had been caring for.
As my fellow researchers and I attempted to gameplan how we might be able to steal enough water from the reserves to sustain our creatures for the next rotation, what we didn’t realize is that the creatures had been communicating in their own way with each other this whole time.
What we didn’t realize is that the creatures had learned just as much about us as we had about them.
I thought I had been nurturing something small and innocent, a curious but gentle little creature like the fiber-covered one that used to swing from my rafters.
When we looked up from our blueprints to see our creatures standing around us, pointing our own lasers back at us, I knew I had been mistaken. | The creature had a funny wonky sorta suit. It was as white as a bleached bone and as complicated as a madman's contraption.
When the creature saw me, I heard it mumble in a rather unfamiliar language. For me, it sounded harsh and made a lot of '*ts*' and '*ch*' sounds... I would rather not hear it sing, if possible.
As the days went by, it seemed to be in a state of utter discomfort. When I tried to take off its odd suit, it began to flail around – seemingly dying – so I began to understand it bit by bit.
First, I've realised that the creature could not live outside of its suit. Most likely it had several atmospheric requirements to live normally, which was not suited to our carbon-dioxide-dense air. Indeed, further testing with a basic sensor showed that the creature produced carbon dioxide and needed oxygen to sustain itself.
To accommodate it, I borrowed my neighbour's air conditioner unit and supplied the creature with a reliable supply of oxygen through a cheap hose. It seemed to be a bit more comfortable after that, its skin looked a bit healthier and less pale too.
Second, I've discovered that the creature was somewhat intelligent. It was capable of communicating, evident by the vocal sounds it was attempting to make. When all else failed, it began to make signs and gestures. It decided to also mimic my voice. Over the course of a couple of days after my first attempt to talk with it, I could vaguely make out a few broken words being said. But for some reason, the creature had more affinity with the rather... vulgar words. Could it be a cultural or genetic affliction? I would have to look into it further.
Lastly, the creature also had basic needs for food. During the first day, I offered the creature some of my leftover food. Yet the creature seemed resistant to the offering. Thoughts of hostility and maybe suspicion crossed my curious mind, so I demonstrated that the food were safe for consumption. Again, the creature refused.
But the next day, I saw that it had dropped a bottle of sort. The bottle contained a clear liquid, which somewhat tasted familiar (yes, I did the one thing I thought would yield the fastest result to quench my wonder).
The creature evidently ate fuel. So, in an attempt to form trust and goodwill, I pumped out a few litres of the thing out of my hovercar into canisters. When I poured a bottle-full of the fuel into its own bottle, it plugged the bottle to its suit.
"What a fascinating little creature," I thought to myself every now and then.
Weeks had passed and the creature had begun to look... bored. Its face seemed to exude no emotion and I had discovered the creature to look emptily at the window outside.
Again, like before, the thought of goodwill made me consider taking it out for a walk. Maybe it'd be nice to see how it would react seeing the other folks around the neighbourhood with their own fascinating pets. After all, a literature I've read years ago did say that pets love to interact and play with each other.
But something about the creature had me wary. The creature was clearly intelligent, unlike most of the pets my neighbours owned. Yet the creature had made no attempts to communicate past greeting me or asking for food. To my knowledge, the creature had not even attempted to get itself out of its white suit. Yes, the suit had kept it alive for so long but I wondered if the creature had hygienic needs as well.
If anything, I should force the bloody thing to bathe! But then again, it might just die off like a weak flower in a desert.. | |
[WP] Dear diary, I’ve been feeding this creature that fell from the sky for a few days. It strangely likes to drink water, the liquid we use to fuel cars. I noticed a patch on its suit today that read “NASA”. I’ll ask it tomorrow what that means. If that’s it’s name. | She was a frail creature, much smaller than Levi was, but she had a sense of familiarity that lingered over their time together. Like they had known each other far longer than a few days -- when he found her, after she hurtled from the sky and landed miles from his home.
For the first few days all she did was sleep, confined to the prison box that she came down upon. Most, Levi thought, would think it a curse. But he, unlike many in his village, was curious of the world and the stars and the legends of their ancestors. No one remembered the days when people flew amongst the stars, but the books were littered about old ruins. Old ruins that Levi felt drawn to.
On the third day, she woke, gasping for air and throwing the box open in a mechanical hiss. For anyone else, they would've turned tail and ran, but Levi merely sat there, a giant compared to her, waiting for her to say something -- do anything.
She asked for water first, choosing not to acknowledge Levi's extraordinary size compared to hers. And so he gave it to her. Hours later, she asked for food, and Levi offered what sustenance he could. *She was lucky,* he thought, *for my hunt had just begun.*
They did not speak after that, but instead sat in silence as the bear meat cooked over a roaring flame. Her eyes were transfixed on it, on the fire, on the meat, on the world around her that Levi knew she did not recognize. He stared at her the first few nights, wondering what her eyes were looking for -- trying to find an answer in the dark shades of honey he saw within her irises.
*I will ask her,* he thought, *when the time is right.*
____
It came the next morning. She was awake first, kindling the embers of a dying fire. For a moment, he did not acknowledge that he was awake. Instead, he laid still and examined her. She had long, flowing hair that was disheveled and bushy, and wore a suit of cloth that Levi did not recognize. More so, across the suit were letters and numbers, but the most distinct was a patch on the left side of the suit. Clearly printed, on blue and red, were four letters. NASA.
He rose his head slightly, then sat up, crossed his legs and stared at the women on the other side of the cracking embers. She looked at him, poked the embers with a long stick, and smiled. Levi smiled back.
"Nasa," he said, breaking the silence that lingered between them that morning. "Is that what they call you?"
She stared at him, her honey-glazed eyes blinking in the morning sun. Shock. Confusion. Levi did not know what plagued her thoughts.
"You came from the sky," he said.
She nodded, silent still. He gave her a moment. She reached for the bag filled with water, the same liquid that powered his hovercraft, parked just feet away. Nasa drank it straight from the bag, lifting the cool water to her lips. She let the water dribble around her mouth, before wiping it away.
"Do you--" he began, but stopped when she stood up. He did not move, remaining cross-legged on the other side of the fire. *Patience,* he thought.
He wondered what she was doing. Then she looked up to the sky and took a deep breath. "You can call me Nasa," she said -- her voice was rough, coarse, as if not used in years. "If you think that suits me."
He nodded. When she stood, she was as tall as Levi was when he was sitting. *Frail,* he thought again, *for someone to have come from the sky.*
"Do you have a name?"
"They call me Levi," he said. "My village, that is."
"I see." She said and stretched her arms into the sky. She took a few deep breaths, then looked at Levi. The smile lingered for a moment, then faltered. "Was there anyone else?"
He knew what she meant. She fell from the sky during a great storm and came crashing down to earth in a single, sudden ball of fire. Levi shook his head. She acknowledged it, sat back down, poked the embers again.
They sat that way for a few minutes.
"I did not come from the sky," she said, "but rather another world."
*Curious,* he thought.
"Another time, perhaps." She spoke in half-truths, Levi knew, something held her back.
They sat in silence a while longer.
"I read about you," Levi said. "Well, not you--you, but your kind. Sky-farers. The books say there were hundreds of you, thousands even."
"Astronauts," she said, smirking. "Or cosmonauts. That's what they called us. One in the same at the end of the day. Just people looking for a home."
"My village is near," he said, "if you need a home."
She poked the embers, staring silently at the small flames that popped in the morning air. "I did have one," Nasa said, "a home that is. Never wanted to leave, but the greater good and all that." She shrugged.
*She'll explain,* he thought, *let her.*
"I was not supposed to be the first," she said.
"Of the--" he sounded out the word in his head, then said it aloud, "Astrahnaughts."
She smirked, "Close enough. Yes."
"What happened to them?"
She looked at him now, straight-on, her eyes staring into his very soul. Levi had felt the familiar come over him again, as if he was staring at his grandmother, her eyes that held wisdom behind them. "A question for another time," she said at last. "For it is just me and this world," she looked back at the fire, "this time is not what is was supposed to be."
He thought about pushing, about asking more. His curiosity burning inside of him like a great fire, stronger than the embers that whittled and died in front of them. But he knew that she felt alone, scared and lost, in a world she did not know. He had known that feeling. Maybe that is what he sensed in her -- the familiarity of being lost.
"I can take you there," he said at last, "to the ruins -- the books I read of your people. You may not be alone, Nasa."
She smiled. "A wonderful thought. I would like that," she said, still staring at the embers. "But for now, tell me about this world, this place." She looked up at him, "About you."
And so, he opened his mouth, and told the story of his world.
________
EDIT: Thank you everyone for the nice comments! I am working on a possible continuation for this prompt, but we'll see! | The creature had a funny wonky sorta suit. It was as white as a bleached bone and as complicated as a madman's contraption.
When the creature saw me, I heard it mumble in a rather unfamiliar language. For me, it sounded harsh and made a lot of '*ts*' and '*ch*' sounds... I would rather not hear it sing, if possible.
As the days went by, it seemed to be in a state of utter discomfort. When I tried to take off its odd suit, it began to flail around – seemingly dying – so I began to understand it bit by bit.
First, I've realised that the creature could not live outside of its suit. Most likely it had several atmospheric requirements to live normally, which was not suited to our carbon-dioxide-dense air. Indeed, further testing with a basic sensor showed that the creature produced carbon dioxide and needed oxygen to sustain itself.
To accommodate it, I borrowed my neighbour's air conditioner unit and supplied the creature with a reliable supply of oxygen through a cheap hose. It seemed to be a bit more comfortable after that, its skin looked a bit healthier and less pale too.
Second, I've discovered that the creature was somewhat intelligent. It was capable of communicating, evident by the vocal sounds it was attempting to make. When all else failed, it began to make signs and gestures. It decided to also mimic my voice. Over the course of a couple of days after my first attempt to talk with it, I could vaguely make out a few broken words being said. But for some reason, the creature had more affinity with the rather... vulgar words. Could it be a cultural or genetic affliction? I would have to look into it further.
Lastly, the creature also had basic needs for food. During the first day, I offered the creature some of my leftover food. Yet the creature seemed resistant to the offering. Thoughts of hostility and maybe suspicion crossed my curious mind, so I demonstrated that the food were safe for consumption. Again, the creature refused.
But the next day, I saw that it had dropped a bottle of sort. The bottle contained a clear liquid, which somewhat tasted familiar (yes, I did the one thing I thought would yield the fastest result to quench my wonder).
The creature evidently ate fuel. So, in an attempt to form trust and goodwill, I pumped out a few litres of the thing out of my hovercar into canisters. When I poured a bottle-full of the fuel into its own bottle, it plugged the bottle to its suit.
"What a fascinating little creature," I thought to myself every now and then.
Weeks had passed and the creature had begun to look... bored. Its face seemed to exude no emotion and I had discovered the creature to look emptily at the window outside.
Again, like before, the thought of goodwill made me consider taking it out for a walk. Maybe it'd be nice to see how it would react seeing the other folks around the neighbourhood with their own fascinating pets. After all, a literature I've read years ago did say that pets love to interact and play with each other.
But something about the creature had me wary. The creature was clearly intelligent, unlike most of the pets my neighbours owned. Yet the creature had made no attempts to communicate past greeting me or asking for food. To my knowledge, the creature had not even attempted to get itself out of its white suit. Yes, the suit had kept it alive for so long but I wondered if the creature had hygienic needs as well.
If anything, I should force the bloody thing to bathe! But then again, it might just die off like a weak flower in a desert.. | |
[WP] Dear diary, I’ve been feeding this creature that fell from the sky for a few days. It strangely likes to drink water, the liquid we use to fuel cars. I noticed a patch on its suit today that read “NASA”. I’ll ask it tomorrow what that means. If that’s it’s name. | Dear Diary,
I finally gathered the courage to ask the creature what the symbols "NASA" was. While it was drinking the daily water (I still can't get over it... water! Who drinks water?!), I pointed to its suit.
I asked, "what does that say?"
It didn't understand me at first, not until I used three of my hands to specify the small patch on its suit.
It made a sound that sounded like it came from its nose, all elongated vowels like "naaaaah saaaaah". It's strange, but I found it kind of pleasing to the soundorifices. But what was most surprising was that the creature spoke *from its mouth*! I guess it's not advanced enough to understand telepathy yet. No wonder it didn't understand my question!
After I asked, Nasa spoke a whole gaggle of syllables! It was so cool to listen to, like smooth marbles rolling in the mouth. I don't know what it was telling me, but I think this means that it trusts me now. It must be hard to know who to trust when you only have two eyes. I wonder how their species survives.
Don't tell Mom but when I came home, I tried making sounds with my mouth too. The vibrations of my voice tickled my throat. I didn't sound as nice as Nasa. My voice was thick and gravelly, like rocks crunching against each other. I don't see how I could keep this up for a whole conversation. Wouldn't my throat go raw from use?
It's better that I stick with telepathy. There's a reason we evolved to use it.
\*\*\*
Dear Diary,
I went to visit Nasa again today. It lives in its ship, a long thin strip of metal. It could barely fit two Parqons in there. I'd never seen a ship so small before, except maybe to transport home deliveries. How did Nasa travel here in it? Where did Nasa even travel from? I wish I could talk to it.
I tried asking it where it was from, but it didn't understand me. Just gobbled the water down in two quick gulps. I could see it travel down Nasa's throat! So weird! Like a little snakeworm wiggling inside. What if there is a snakeworm in there? That happened to my canispup once. You could see the wiggling dots in its poop. Mom insisted we give him away after that...
Nasa tried to ask me something, but I can't understand her garbled language. There are too many sounds and they slip and slide all over each other. It's hard to distinguish where a word starts and ends.
It pointed to itself and made a sound like "Sin-dee" then it pointed to me and waited. It did this a few times, and I think it was asking for my name. I guess Sindee is its actual name! So, I still don't know what Nasa is. Maybe it's the planet Sindee's from.
I tried to tell Sindee that I'm Qilyer. I still don't think I can get used to the noise coming from my mouth. I think Sindee understood, though, as it repeated my name. It sounds much better coming from Sindee.
I told Sindee that it was here on planet Criplail. It took a long time for it to understand. It's really more primitive than I anticipated. Even the dumbest Parqon would have understood after the second try. But it's been kind of fun trying to get Sindee to understand, kind of like training my canispup!
It took a lot of gesturing with all four of my arms, but Sindee finally understood. I gestured some more to ask where it was from. It said something that sounded like Erth. What a strange name! So gutteral! I tried to repeat it but it was too hard for me. Spoken language is really complex. How do such primitive creatures have the capacity to think about all the elements of language, like grammar and syntax, while also pushing air and forming mouth movements? It really is amazing!
\*\*\*
Dear Diary,
I saw Sindee fiddling with the ship today. From what I can gather, Sindee is running out of provisions. I offered it a packet of my glowing nutskins, but I guess it can't eat that. It couldn't crack it with its teeth! How silly is that? Teeth that can't even crack nutskins! Why even have teeth? Maybe its function is just to help with speech.
It seems like Sindee's ship has run out of fuel. That seemed like an easy fix. I tried to pour the water into the tank, but Sindee screamed at me. It sounded just like a wild owlscreecher! I was so surprised I dropped the cup completely and the water pooled over the ground.
The craziest part--Sindee was so shocked that it started leaking out of its eyes! It was clear, just like the water. I guess when it drinks so much water, it probably becomes water too. I'm not sure why Sindee was so hysterical. Its breathing was erratic and I was scared it might choke on its own water!
I quickly scooped the dropped water back into the cup and tried to show it that it was okay. Sindee just stared at it. It looked at the ground and then back into the cup. Then it spoke a string of words that I couldn't figure out at all. I don't really get what happened. It's not like things disappear once it hits the ground. It's a solid slate. Everything just settles on top.
Eventually, Sindee calmed down. It seemed wary to accept the cup this time, almost as if it was expecting the water to be changed. I urged Sindee to drink it--it seems like they need a lot of water and I can't siphon any more from the car today or else Mom will know. Luckily, she drives everywhere so won't notice a little missing here and there.
Sindee kept hesitating, but eventually, after I tipped the cup into her mouth, it did drink it. It really does seem like these creatures need a lot of supervision and care even for their most basic needs. I don't know what Sindee would have done if I hadn't found her.
Afterwards, Sindee showed me what was in the fuel tank. And it was the craziest thing! Did you know they still use petroleum as fuel?? I know! That's what the first Parqons used before we discovered cleaner methods. It surprises me more and more just how backwards Sindee's parqons are!
I said I'd try to help. Eventually Sindee understood and then it tried to strangle me!! Only, I realised afterwards that wrapping its two skinny arms wasn't actually an attack, but some sort of sign of affection? When it was squeezing me, I could feel just how soft and fleshy it actually was. Underneath the crinkly armour it wore, it was actually quite delicate. I could have crushed it easily between just two of my arms! Sindee's lucky that I think first and act second. That could have ended very badly for it. I'll need to find a way to tell it to be more careful in the future. You'd think that something so squishy would be more aware of dangers...
I'm not sure where I'm going to find petroleum. Sindee might have to remain here even longer. Maybe I can convince Mom to let it stay with us. It could be a replacement pet for my canispup.
\*\*\*
Dear Diary,
Sindee was gone when I went to visit today. The ship was gone too. I guess it found the petroleum it needed to return home. At least, I hope that's the case. Otherwise, it would mean the Order found it, and well... I'd rather not think about that.
I hope Sindee is safe. It's silly, but I do worry about it. It's so helpless, like a baby.
One day, when I grow up, I'm going to become a star walker. I'm going to fly to Erth and find Sindee, and the first thing I'm going to do is circle my two arms around it in an affection attack!
\*\*\*
Thanks for reading! If you'd like to see more from me, feel free to check out: r/rulerofstorybears | The creature had a funny wonky sorta suit. It was as white as a bleached bone and as complicated as a madman's contraption.
When the creature saw me, I heard it mumble in a rather unfamiliar language. For me, it sounded harsh and made a lot of '*ts*' and '*ch*' sounds... I would rather not hear it sing, if possible.
As the days went by, it seemed to be in a state of utter discomfort. When I tried to take off its odd suit, it began to flail around – seemingly dying – so I began to understand it bit by bit.
First, I've realised that the creature could not live outside of its suit. Most likely it had several atmospheric requirements to live normally, which was not suited to our carbon-dioxide-dense air. Indeed, further testing with a basic sensor showed that the creature produced carbon dioxide and needed oxygen to sustain itself.
To accommodate it, I borrowed my neighbour's air conditioner unit and supplied the creature with a reliable supply of oxygen through a cheap hose. It seemed to be a bit more comfortable after that, its skin looked a bit healthier and less pale too.
Second, I've discovered that the creature was somewhat intelligent. It was capable of communicating, evident by the vocal sounds it was attempting to make. When all else failed, it began to make signs and gestures. It decided to also mimic my voice. Over the course of a couple of days after my first attempt to talk with it, I could vaguely make out a few broken words being said. But for some reason, the creature had more affinity with the rather... vulgar words. Could it be a cultural or genetic affliction? I would have to look into it further.
Lastly, the creature also had basic needs for food. During the first day, I offered the creature some of my leftover food. Yet the creature seemed resistant to the offering. Thoughts of hostility and maybe suspicion crossed my curious mind, so I demonstrated that the food were safe for consumption. Again, the creature refused.
But the next day, I saw that it had dropped a bottle of sort. The bottle contained a clear liquid, which somewhat tasted familiar (yes, I did the one thing I thought would yield the fastest result to quench my wonder).
The creature evidently ate fuel. So, in an attempt to form trust and goodwill, I pumped out a few litres of the thing out of my hovercar into canisters. When I poured a bottle-full of the fuel into its own bottle, it plugged the bottle to its suit.
"What a fascinating little creature," I thought to myself every now and then.
Weeks had passed and the creature had begun to look... bored. Its face seemed to exude no emotion and I had discovered the creature to look emptily at the window outside.
Again, like before, the thought of goodwill made me consider taking it out for a walk. Maybe it'd be nice to see how it would react seeing the other folks around the neighbourhood with their own fascinating pets. After all, a literature I've read years ago did say that pets love to interact and play with each other.
But something about the creature had me wary. The creature was clearly intelligent, unlike most of the pets my neighbours owned. Yet the creature had made no attempts to communicate past greeting me or asking for food. To my knowledge, the creature had not even attempted to get itself out of its white suit. Yes, the suit had kept it alive for so long but I wondered if the creature had hygienic needs as well.
If anything, I should force the bloody thing to bathe! But then again, it might just die off like a weak flower in a desert.. | |
[WP] Dear diary, I’ve been feeding this creature that fell from the sky for a few days. It strangely likes to drink water, the liquid we use to fuel cars. I noticed a patch on its suit today that read “NASA”. I’ll ask it tomorrow what that means. If that’s it’s name. | Dear diary,
This is my first entry into this notebook. I don’t really know why I’m doing this, but I guess that it will help me record everything about the creature that I found. Yesterday, something out of metals hit the surface of my jakura-fields, right from the sky. It resembled a bit our space-racers, but it was too small to actually being able to contain enough fuel to even start flying and there was a single creature inside of it. I don’t think that only one creature would be able to do everything that needs to be done on a space-racer. I let it slide and picked the creature up, guessing that this kind was able to multitask.
The creature was weird. I knew that there existed other living forms on other planets, we even made alliance with the Dar-najun’s a decade ago, but this creature looked just...weird. It was nothing that I knew of, it didn’t resemble any of the aliens in a few light-years of radius away. It was boney and soft and had a weird bubble of glass around its head. I laid it on my bed and examined its body for a few moments. My antennas wiggled excited, not ever seeing such kind of fascinating skeleton and complex set of organs, and my feathers couldn’t stop themselves from puffing up.
After a while I figured it was safe to take of the weird costume, that probably had a decorative, maybe ritual or religious background. If it was sacred, I hoped the creature would forgive me. But I’m sure it will, when it realizes that it was essential for tending its wounds. If it even had that level of cognitive and rational thinking.
I wanted to put the glass on the table beside me, when I heard a weird, painful moan. I dropped the glass and my feathers turned a dark purple out of fear. I turned to the creature. It was covering the sides of its head after the glass bubble made a loud noise when it crashed onto the floor. At least I know where their hearing-organs are.
After a few moments of silence filled with heavy breaths that came from the creature, its energy around it changed from confused to panic. It’s hands quickly touched their face and their body. My antennas became still out of the amount of fear the creature gave and I couldn’t help but gasp. It’s head immediately shot to me, it’s face filled pure fear of survival. It looked at the costume in my hands and at the glass bubble on the floor and put its own hand around the place where an organ that my antennas detected earlier gave it life force. The creature half-closed it’s eyes, staring at me. The rhythmic beat of the organ seemed to relax the creature and it sighed.
It widened its eyes and stared at me. The orbs seemed so intelligent, and at the same time ready to either fight or flee for its survival. I slowly put the costume away, almost inching to not to alarm the creature. My antennas reached out to it to read its emotions better. The creature eyed them warily. It seemed like they don’t trust strangers. One point to intelligence.
It’s gaze came back to my eyes and I slowly sat down. The creature barked something and I couldn’t help but to click out of surprise. The creature shuffled back, it’s back plastered to the wall. It frowned and gave out the exact same click. I almost jumped out of my clothes hearing it.
“You are good at mimicry,” I said, making the creature frown.
My antennas detected confusion. Why did I expect it to speak the same language as I? I don’t know. It kinda slipped out.
Anyway, I bit my tongue and sat on the floor, lowering my gaze to show it that I’m no treat.
Seconds after, I heard shuffles of material and pained groans. I looked up, to see the creature on the floor too, it’s limbs crossed in a weird way. It bared it’s teeth. My feathers straightened up, making themselves sharp and ready to stab someone. My antennas put me at ease, assuring that baring the teeth was supposed to be a weird way to show sympathy.
“You...re’good ‘t mimicry,” it said slowly in broken Ugalian, tripping at the clicks a few times.
In conclusion: the creature can mimic noises with impressively good quality, but only with practice and without knowing what it just mimicked. Short clicks are easier to mimic, complex sentences are confusing for their tongue.
It apparently started to give me trust, because he rolled up the clothes around it’s chest and showed me a deep wound and a few bruises. Then he lost consciousness, falling right into my arms. If that isn’t a sign of trust, then I don’t know what it could be.
+++
Dear diary, I’ve been feeding the creature different things for a few days now. It strangely loves to consume water, especially when it’s the fuel that is used to fuel cars. When it came to the other things, it was more cautious. It observed me closely as I gave it food and liquids and took just a small bite or a tiny sip before he either spit it out and showed it away, making a gesture with its head, or consuming it with satisfaction. It remembered too after two days what things it liked and disliked.
So:
-It has a short-term memory, potential long-term.
-it likes water for some reason.
-it likes corns the most.
I also found a patch on the costume. It read 'NASA'. I don’t know the meaning of it, but I’ll ask it tomorrow. Now the creature is sleepy and needs rest. I already suspect that NASA is the creatures name.
Other notes:
-DO NOT GIVE IT KADINEM, I SWEAR I THOUGHT IT WOULD DIE IN MY ARMS. It forgave me though. Or at least I think. It didn’t want to consume anything after trying kadinem.
-for some crazy reason it loves caffeine. Yes, I’m serious, that poison. That son of a gun consumed caffeine and it apparently helped the creature stay awake???
-> make tests about durability of the creature against poisons and how much it benefits it to consume them
-it has a rhythm where it lies down on my bed or anything that is even a bit comfortable and doesn’t move for around ten hours to preserve energy. It is normal. It isn’t dying. I think.
-> the creature’s equivalent to our relaxation?
-it has sensitive nerves and it experiences pain more than my kind (or all us known species in space for that matter) it was hard for me to tend its wounds.
-> check what amount of pain is tolerable for the creature because it sometimes sheds water out of their eyes.
(-> the eye-water thing: an emotional? reaction to too much pain)
+++
Dear diary,
NASA isn’t the creatures name. It took a long time for it to understand, and that after I used written language and images.
I drew myself and the creature on a whiteboard.
“Me,” I said and pointed at myself. The creature mimicked me clumsily. “You,” I pointed at the creature and it nodded.
“My name,” I said, pointing at the board and writing the word ‘name’ above the drawing of myself. “Is Esal,” I said and wrote my name beside the word 'name'.
I looked at the creature. It was confused. I sighed.
“Me,” I pointed at myself. “Esal,” I pointed at my name on the board. “Me, Esal. Esal is a name.”
I needed to repeat it once more for the creature to understand.
“You Esal,” it said and I couldn’t help it but scream out of joy and clapping my hands. My feathers changed to a happy yellow. It bared it’s teeth again.
“You?” I asked and showed it the patch. “NASA?”
It gave again a gesture that I understood as a 'no'.
“Cecil.”
Note:
-that creatures language is hard. No wonder it has the ability to mimicry so good
I tried to learn to say the name, but it took way too long. The creature proposed to be called 'Ce'. It was honestly a lot more easier.
I asked him afterwards what NASA was. My antennas detected unsureness and hesitation, not knowing how to explain what NASA was. It tried to draw and explain it to me, but together we decided that it wasn’t really worth it. The only thing that I understood was that NASA was behind the tiny metal space-racer, but nothing more.
Other notes:
-it likes to do different things. After it healed, it started to get bored and did so many things just to keep entertained.
-> keep it busy, try to continue it to learn Ugalian because I have a headache and my hands hurt from pointing and drawing everything.
-hot things have an opposite effect as caffeine; either if it is the sun shining at its face or a warm room/blanket or liquid makes it drowsy.
-IT APPARENTLY IS NORMAL FOR THEM TO CONSUME THE DEADLY BANKUJ, THAT CREATURE CAN EAT DEATH
I AM DONE
**im a new writer so criticism is really helpful!** | The creature had a funny wonky sorta suit. It was as white as a bleached bone and as complicated as a madman's contraption.
When the creature saw me, I heard it mumble in a rather unfamiliar language. For me, it sounded harsh and made a lot of '*ts*' and '*ch*' sounds... I would rather not hear it sing, if possible.
As the days went by, it seemed to be in a state of utter discomfort. When I tried to take off its odd suit, it began to flail around – seemingly dying – so I began to understand it bit by bit.
First, I've realised that the creature could not live outside of its suit. Most likely it had several atmospheric requirements to live normally, which was not suited to our carbon-dioxide-dense air. Indeed, further testing with a basic sensor showed that the creature produced carbon dioxide and needed oxygen to sustain itself.
To accommodate it, I borrowed my neighbour's air conditioner unit and supplied the creature with a reliable supply of oxygen through a cheap hose. It seemed to be a bit more comfortable after that, its skin looked a bit healthier and less pale too.
Second, I've discovered that the creature was somewhat intelligent. It was capable of communicating, evident by the vocal sounds it was attempting to make. When all else failed, it began to make signs and gestures. It decided to also mimic my voice. Over the course of a couple of days after my first attempt to talk with it, I could vaguely make out a few broken words being said. But for some reason, the creature had more affinity with the rather... vulgar words. Could it be a cultural or genetic affliction? I would have to look into it further.
Lastly, the creature also had basic needs for food. During the first day, I offered the creature some of my leftover food. Yet the creature seemed resistant to the offering. Thoughts of hostility and maybe suspicion crossed my curious mind, so I demonstrated that the food were safe for consumption. Again, the creature refused.
But the next day, I saw that it had dropped a bottle of sort. The bottle contained a clear liquid, which somewhat tasted familiar (yes, I did the one thing I thought would yield the fastest result to quench my wonder).
The creature evidently ate fuel. So, in an attempt to form trust and goodwill, I pumped out a few litres of the thing out of my hovercar into canisters. When I poured a bottle-full of the fuel into its own bottle, it plugged the bottle to its suit.
"What a fascinating little creature," I thought to myself every now and then.
Weeks had passed and the creature had begun to look... bored. Its face seemed to exude no emotion and I had discovered the creature to look emptily at the window outside.
Again, like before, the thought of goodwill made me consider taking it out for a walk. Maybe it'd be nice to see how it would react seeing the other folks around the neighbourhood with their own fascinating pets. After all, a literature I've read years ago did say that pets love to interact and play with each other.
But something about the creature had me wary. The creature was clearly intelligent, unlike most of the pets my neighbours owned. Yet the creature had made no attempts to communicate past greeting me or asking for food. To my knowledge, the creature had not even attempted to get itself out of its white suit. Yes, the suit had kept it alive for so long but I wondered if the creature had hygienic needs as well.
If anything, I should force the bloody thing to bathe! But then again, it might just die off like a weak flower in a desert.. | |
[WP] Dear diary, I’ve been feeding this creature that fell from the sky for a few days. It strangely likes to drink water, the liquid we use to fuel cars. I noticed a patch on its suit today that read “NASA”. I’ll ask it tomorrow what that means. If that’s it’s name. | Three days after his fall, NASA still hadn't spoken to me.
It quickly became clear that this creature was unaccustomed to the ways of my people. We Quelbrigs have been here for millennia, and most neighboring planets are at the very least aware of us. But not NASA.
I’d managed to piece together the sounds of its name from what little English I knew. Remnants of the ancient language were peppered across my planet, but I hadn’t studied it, or its origins, extensively. The creature appeared perturbed when I called it "NASA," but it hadn't given me any alternatives, so there it was.
I'd tried all of the traditional Quelbrig hospitality - a plate of pickled tentacles made with my grandmother's recipe, a performance of our national anthem by the neighborhood quartet. Still nothing.
NASA began to draw crowds. I peered outside my PlexiDome each morning to find a sea of curious, gray Quelbrig heads trying to catch a glimpse of the creature. For the time being, I'd put NASA up in my guest-pod. It didn't seem to want to go outside anyway.
I decided to pay a visit to the town historian, Sleeg. As soon as I mentioned NASA, he perked up.
"I was hoping you'd stop by, Meeko," he said, pulling a miniscreen out of a drawer. "That creature you're currently housing is a 'human.'"
"A what?" I asked.
"A human. Relatively harmless - although, as a species, they have a history of infighting. At some point, many millennia ago, there was a mass exodus to other planets. This planet - ours - became inhospitable to them for a number of reasons. I wouldn't ask NASA about it; it was all rather traumatic. But perhaps you can ask him what led him back here...to the planet he once inhabited."
"How?" I asked. "He doesn't speak a lick of Quelbrigese."
"Have patience, young Meeko," Sleeg said with a grin.
Over the next few days, I made some half-hearted attempts at grunting before I realized that pointing and gesturing would do the trick. I mimicked NASA's fall from the sky with my fingers, then tilted my head to indicate a question. NASA sighed, stood up, and walked to our refrigeration pod. He pointed at it, then pointed to himself. Ah. Cryogenic freezing, perhaps.
NASA then made an explosion noise with his mouth and repeated the gesture of his fall to Earth.
I shook my head in dismay. Whatever act of self-preservation the humans intended had clearly gone terribly wrong.
I returned to Sleeg's hut every night to learn every shred of information I could. I learned about the technological skeletons humans had left behind, and how we'd built our society from them. I learned about their homes, their families, their mating. There wasn't as much as I'd have liked, due largely to the antiquity of the original recordings, but it was enough.
I learned that our planet's air was safe for humans to breathe, so I allowed NASA to remove its helmet - sorry, *his* helmet. I let him step into our cleansing pod. He started to eat more of our food, albeit begrudgingly. He stepped outside and went for walks, paying no mind to the stares of my neighbors.
On the nineteenth day after NASA's fall, I turned out all the lights in the house and waited for him to come back from his walk. Then I turned them all on to reveal a small group of us, standing in the living room, who yelled "SURPRISE!" in broken English.
NASA covered his mouth with his hands, but couldn't hide the smile bursting onto his face. He stepped over to look at the Quelbrig sweetcakes I'd prepared, which spelled out "WELLCOM HOME" in icing.
He took a bite of the sweetcake, and I saw him laugh for the first time.
As he smiled and greeted everyone, cheerily gesturing and nodding, I was fully convinced that NASA would acclimate to our ways. Perhaps I'd learn his name; perhaps he'd learn our language. Perhaps he'd move into his own pod and become one of us.
But for now, being here - with the scent of sweetcakes and the sound of multispecies laughter filling the room - was enough. | The creature had a funny wonky sorta suit. It was as white as a bleached bone and as complicated as a madman's contraption.
When the creature saw me, I heard it mumble in a rather unfamiliar language. For me, it sounded harsh and made a lot of '*ts*' and '*ch*' sounds... I would rather not hear it sing, if possible.
As the days went by, it seemed to be in a state of utter discomfort. When I tried to take off its odd suit, it began to flail around – seemingly dying – so I began to understand it bit by bit.
First, I've realised that the creature could not live outside of its suit. Most likely it had several atmospheric requirements to live normally, which was not suited to our carbon-dioxide-dense air. Indeed, further testing with a basic sensor showed that the creature produced carbon dioxide and needed oxygen to sustain itself.
To accommodate it, I borrowed my neighbour's air conditioner unit and supplied the creature with a reliable supply of oxygen through a cheap hose. It seemed to be a bit more comfortable after that, its skin looked a bit healthier and less pale too.
Second, I've discovered that the creature was somewhat intelligent. It was capable of communicating, evident by the vocal sounds it was attempting to make. When all else failed, it began to make signs and gestures. It decided to also mimic my voice. Over the course of a couple of days after my first attempt to talk with it, I could vaguely make out a few broken words being said. But for some reason, the creature had more affinity with the rather... vulgar words. Could it be a cultural or genetic affliction? I would have to look into it further.
Lastly, the creature also had basic needs for food. During the first day, I offered the creature some of my leftover food. Yet the creature seemed resistant to the offering. Thoughts of hostility and maybe suspicion crossed my curious mind, so I demonstrated that the food were safe for consumption. Again, the creature refused.
But the next day, I saw that it had dropped a bottle of sort. The bottle contained a clear liquid, which somewhat tasted familiar (yes, I did the one thing I thought would yield the fastest result to quench my wonder).
The creature evidently ate fuel. So, in an attempt to form trust and goodwill, I pumped out a few litres of the thing out of my hovercar into canisters. When I poured a bottle-full of the fuel into its own bottle, it plugged the bottle to its suit.
"What a fascinating little creature," I thought to myself every now and then.
Weeks had passed and the creature had begun to look... bored. Its face seemed to exude no emotion and I had discovered the creature to look emptily at the window outside.
Again, like before, the thought of goodwill made me consider taking it out for a walk. Maybe it'd be nice to see how it would react seeing the other folks around the neighbourhood with their own fascinating pets. After all, a literature I've read years ago did say that pets love to interact and play with each other.
But something about the creature had me wary. The creature was clearly intelligent, unlike most of the pets my neighbours owned. Yet the creature had made no attempts to communicate past greeting me or asking for food. To my knowledge, the creature had not even attempted to get itself out of its white suit. Yes, the suit had kept it alive for so long but I wondered if the creature had hygienic needs as well.
If anything, I should force the bloody thing to bathe! But then again, it might just die off like a weak flower in a desert.. | |
[WP] Dear diary, I’ve been feeding this creature that fell from the sky for a few days. It strangely likes to drink water, the liquid we use to fuel cars. I noticed a patch on its suit today that read “NASA”. I’ll ask it tomorrow what that means. If that’s it’s name. | Dear Diary,
I finally gathered the courage to ask the creature what the symbols "NASA" was. While it was drinking the daily water (I still can't get over it... water! Who drinks water?!), I pointed to its suit.
I asked, "what does that say?"
It didn't understand me at first, not until I used three of my hands to specify the small patch on its suit.
It made a sound that sounded like it came from its nose, all elongated vowels like "naaaaah saaaaah". It's strange, but I found it kind of pleasing to the soundorifices. But what was most surprising was that the creature spoke *from its mouth*! I guess it's not advanced enough to understand telepathy yet. No wonder it didn't understand my question!
After I asked, Nasa spoke a whole gaggle of syllables! It was so cool to listen to, like smooth marbles rolling in the mouth. I don't know what it was telling me, but I think this means that it trusts me now. It must be hard to know who to trust when you only have two eyes. I wonder how their species survives.
Don't tell Mom but when I came home, I tried making sounds with my mouth too. The vibrations of my voice tickled my throat. I didn't sound as nice as Nasa. My voice was thick and gravelly, like rocks crunching against each other. I don't see how I could keep this up for a whole conversation. Wouldn't my throat go raw from use?
It's better that I stick with telepathy. There's a reason we evolved to use it.
\*\*\*
Dear Diary,
I went to visit Nasa again today. It lives in its ship, a long thin strip of metal. It could barely fit two Parqons in there. I'd never seen a ship so small before, except maybe to transport home deliveries. How did Nasa travel here in it? Where did Nasa even travel from? I wish I could talk to it.
I tried asking it where it was from, but it didn't understand me. Just gobbled the water down in two quick gulps. I could see it travel down Nasa's throat! So weird! Like a little snakeworm wiggling inside. What if there is a snakeworm in there? That happened to my canispup once. You could see the wiggling dots in its poop. Mom insisted we give him away after that...
Nasa tried to ask me something, but I can't understand her garbled language. There are too many sounds and they slip and slide all over each other. It's hard to distinguish where a word starts and ends.
It pointed to itself and made a sound like "Sin-dee" then it pointed to me and waited. It did this a few times, and I think it was asking for my name. I guess Sindee is its actual name! So, I still don't know what Nasa is. Maybe it's the planet Sindee's from.
I tried to tell Sindee that I'm Qilyer. I still don't think I can get used to the noise coming from my mouth. I think Sindee understood, though, as it repeated my name. It sounds much better coming from Sindee.
I told Sindee that it was here on planet Criplail. It took a long time for it to understand. It's really more primitive than I anticipated. Even the dumbest Parqon would have understood after the second try. But it's been kind of fun trying to get Sindee to understand, kind of like training my canispup!
It took a lot of gesturing with all four of my arms, but Sindee finally understood. I gestured some more to ask where it was from. It said something that sounded like Erth. What a strange name! So gutteral! I tried to repeat it but it was too hard for me. Spoken language is really complex. How do such primitive creatures have the capacity to think about all the elements of language, like grammar and syntax, while also pushing air and forming mouth movements? It really is amazing!
\*\*\*
Dear Diary,
I saw Sindee fiddling with the ship today. From what I can gather, Sindee is running out of provisions. I offered it a packet of my glowing nutskins, but I guess it can't eat that. It couldn't crack it with its teeth! How silly is that? Teeth that can't even crack nutskins! Why even have teeth? Maybe its function is just to help with speech.
It seems like Sindee's ship has run out of fuel. That seemed like an easy fix. I tried to pour the water into the tank, but Sindee screamed at me. It sounded just like a wild owlscreecher! I was so surprised I dropped the cup completely and the water pooled over the ground.
The craziest part--Sindee was so shocked that it started leaking out of its eyes! It was clear, just like the water. I guess when it drinks so much water, it probably becomes water too. I'm not sure why Sindee was so hysterical. Its breathing was erratic and I was scared it might choke on its own water!
I quickly scooped the dropped water back into the cup and tried to show it that it was okay. Sindee just stared at it. It looked at the ground and then back into the cup. Then it spoke a string of words that I couldn't figure out at all. I don't really get what happened. It's not like things disappear once it hits the ground. It's a solid slate. Everything just settles on top.
Eventually, Sindee calmed down. It seemed wary to accept the cup this time, almost as if it was expecting the water to be changed. I urged Sindee to drink it--it seems like they need a lot of water and I can't siphon any more from the car today or else Mom will know. Luckily, she drives everywhere so won't notice a little missing here and there.
Sindee kept hesitating, but eventually, after I tipped the cup into her mouth, it did drink it. It really does seem like these creatures need a lot of supervision and care even for their most basic needs. I don't know what Sindee would have done if I hadn't found her.
Afterwards, Sindee showed me what was in the fuel tank. And it was the craziest thing! Did you know they still use petroleum as fuel?? I know! That's what the first Parqons used before we discovered cleaner methods. It surprises me more and more just how backwards Sindee's parqons are!
I said I'd try to help. Eventually Sindee understood and then it tried to strangle me!! Only, I realised afterwards that wrapping its two skinny arms wasn't actually an attack, but some sort of sign of affection? When it was squeezing me, I could feel just how soft and fleshy it actually was. Underneath the crinkly armour it wore, it was actually quite delicate. I could have crushed it easily between just two of my arms! Sindee's lucky that I think first and act second. That could have ended very badly for it. I'll need to find a way to tell it to be more careful in the future. You'd think that something so squishy would be more aware of dangers...
I'm not sure where I'm going to find petroleum. Sindee might have to remain here even longer. Maybe I can convince Mom to let it stay with us. It could be a replacement pet for my canispup.
\*\*\*
Dear Diary,
Sindee was gone when I went to visit today. The ship was gone too. I guess it found the petroleum it needed to return home. At least, I hope that's the case. Otherwise, it would mean the Order found it, and well... I'd rather not think about that.
I hope Sindee is safe. It's silly, but I do worry about it. It's so helpless, like a baby.
One day, when I grow up, I'm going to become a star walker. I'm going to fly to Erth and find Sindee, and the first thing I'm going to do is circle my two arms around it in an affection attack!
\*\*\*
Thanks for reading! If you'd like to see more from me, feel free to check out: r/rulerofstorybears | It is still powered down right now.
I’m able to watch it from across the quarters, but I try not to stay too close for too long. I know some creatures have protective secretions during reboots and hibernation, so I don’t want to risk any airborne barbs or gasses that might seek out any of my orifices. I still have a lot to learn about this creature.
What was most interesting to me at first was the sheer size of the thing. Twice, maybe even thrice as big as the only one to come before it.
I still remember that day.
It was about 32 rotations ago when we all crowded around the plaza to observe the new visitor. It had fallen from the sky but our centrifugal barrier caught it before any further damage could come of it. We gathered around the small, lifeless body that was limply hanging in midair just a few zafrons above ground.
I knew they’d ask me to take a look, as had been my stated expertise from my studies all these rotations. Every orbit, I offered a new theory about extracelestial life. Most of my kin didn’t believe me. All of my competitors sought to discredit me. I couldn’t tell if they wanted my help with this creature because they believed me, or because they wanted to prove me wrong.
I looked closer at the creature, unsure if it still sustained life. Beneath what I now know to be a mask, its facial muscles twitched beneath the fibers that covered its whole being. It was alive. But just barely.
I spent over six rotations learning about this creature. It was only alive for the first two. Once, I took off the mask while we were outdoors. The creature gasped and its eyes grew large in what I now understood to be their expression of our emotion of panic. Indoors, it never gasped. There was something about our flora that must not react well with this creature. I kept it inside from then on out.
I found this creature fascinating, and it became one of my favorite parts of my routine. Every morning it jumped out of its nest and climbed to the highest rafters of the bunker. It swung from beam to beam before making its way to our kitchen. I often witnessed it drinking water and also even bathing in it. This was particularly curious to me as I had never thought to drink the stuff.
I had maintained a small stockpile of other items that had fallen in the same way this creature had, none of which had been living things before. Much of it I understood to be fuel, perhaps what extracelestials utilized for sustenance. I allowed the creature to try a sample once when it seemed eager to consume anything it could get its hands on. I quickly learned the creature loved the stuff - it showed a particular fondness for the one in the jar with a small image of a long, curved cylinder that was the same color as the sun. I tasted it once, too. Disgusting mush if you ask me.
After a couple rotations of tests and learning about what sustains and entertains this creature, one morning it didn’t arise to swing from the rafters. I didn’t see its small torso rise and fall with the pumping of its internal organs, and I didn’t see the facial muscles twitching beneath its body fibers. I slowly poured some water on its face but it just dripped to the floor. I didn’t understand the deep pang I was feeling inside of my body, and I suddenly had no desire to leave my home or continue to pursue my studies. This was an entirely foreign emotion to me, but it was flooding my body. It took me almost an entire rotation before I was willing to study again, and to continue testing on the lifeless creature.
This new creature, though, it was different. Much larger, in length and weight. Still smaller than me and my kin, though. It had far fewer fibers, less thick and less coarse and mostly centralized on the top of the head as opposed to densely covering the full body. What seemed entirely strange and surprising was that its vertebrae did not extend out beyond its torso the way the last creature’s had. I could only assume that this creature would not and could not so adeptly climb and swing through my bunker.
It, too, consumed ample amounts of water. It was undiscerning in its preference for the jarred sustenance, and seemed eager to consume anything I granted it access to.
I learned from the last creature, and understood the importance of wearing a mask to keep this one alive. I didn’t remove it except in the pressurized bunker.
The insignia on its clothing was similar to that of the creature’s from so many rotations ago. I felt a pang of memory and grief at seeing the strange “NASA” image that I had first seen in the plaza so long ago. I knew it implausible, but I felt this creature must somehow be connected to my creature I had grown to care for before its last waking days.
Rotations passed, and we entered a new orbit with additional extracelestials having entered our world over time. My peers in research took them in, some doing things that I...would have preferred not to know about.
It got bad when it started getting hotter, and we had to seek out a new safe place to colonize. Suddenly, our fuel was a priority as we sought to expand and explore far and wide. As the temperatures increased, our natural water supply began to dwindle. As more and more of us adventured out into the unknown, our vehicles required more fuel.
It became a battle of resources between the researchers and the explorers. We needed the water to sustain the life we were studying, but others demanded the water to fuel their exploits. My perspective was that we needed to continue research and protect our creature studies to better understand the universe we live in, to know where and how we can survive and thrive next. The explorers claimed they needed the water to protect the future of our civilization so that we didn’t die out before we established a new home. I could see both sides. But their side included the dehydration and eventual death of these creatures we had been caring for.
As my fellow researchers and I attempted to gameplan how we might be able to steal enough water from the reserves to sustain our creatures for the next rotation, what we didn’t realize is that the creatures had been communicating in their own way with each other this whole time.
What we didn’t realize is that the creatures had learned just as much about us as we had about them.
I thought I had been nurturing something small and innocent, a curious but gentle little creature like the fiber-covered one that used to swing from my rafters.
When we looked up from our blueprints to see our creatures standing around us, pointing our own lasers back at us, I knew I had been mistaken. | |
[WP] Dear diary, I’ve been feeding this creature that fell from the sky for a few days. It strangely likes to drink water, the liquid we use to fuel cars. I noticed a patch on its suit today that read “NASA”. I’ll ask it tomorrow what that means. If that’s it’s name. | Dear Diary,
I finally gathered the courage to ask the creature what the symbols "NASA" was. While it was drinking the daily water (I still can't get over it... water! Who drinks water?!), I pointed to its suit.
I asked, "what does that say?"
It didn't understand me at first, not until I used three of my hands to specify the small patch on its suit.
It made a sound that sounded like it came from its nose, all elongated vowels like "naaaaah saaaaah". It's strange, but I found it kind of pleasing to the soundorifices. But what was most surprising was that the creature spoke *from its mouth*! I guess it's not advanced enough to understand telepathy yet. No wonder it didn't understand my question!
After I asked, Nasa spoke a whole gaggle of syllables! It was so cool to listen to, like smooth marbles rolling in the mouth. I don't know what it was telling me, but I think this means that it trusts me now. It must be hard to know who to trust when you only have two eyes. I wonder how their species survives.
Don't tell Mom but when I came home, I tried making sounds with my mouth too. The vibrations of my voice tickled my throat. I didn't sound as nice as Nasa. My voice was thick and gravelly, like rocks crunching against each other. I don't see how I could keep this up for a whole conversation. Wouldn't my throat go raw from use?
It's better that I stick with telepathy. There's a reason we evolved to use it.
\*\*\*
Dear Diary,
I went to visit Nasa again today. It lives in its ship, a long thin strip of metal. It could barely fit two Parqons in there. I'd never seen a ship so small before, except maybe to transport home deliveries. How did Nasa travel here in it? Where did Nasa even travel from? I wish I could talk to it.
I tried asking it where it was from, but it didn't understand me. Just gobbled the water down in two quick gulps. I could see it travel down Nasa's throat! So weird! Like a little snakeworm wiggling inside. What if there is a snakeworm in there? That happened to my canispup once. You could see the wiggling dots in its poop. Mom insisted we give him away after that...
Nasa tried to ask me something, but I can't understand her garbled language. There are too many sounds and they slip and slide all over each other. It's hard to distinguish where a word starts and ends.
It pointed to itself and made a sound like "Sin-dee" then it pointed to me and waited. It did this a few times, and I think it was asking for my name. I guess Sindee is its actual name! So, I still don't know what Nasa is. Maybe it's the planet Sindee's from.
I tried to tell Sindee that I'm Qilyer. I still don't think I can get used to the noise coming from my mouth. I think Sindee understood, though, as it repeated my name. It sounds much better coming from Sindee.
I told Sindee that it was here on planet Criplail. It took a long time for it to understand. It's really more primitive than I anticipated. Even the dumbest Parqon would have understood after the second try. But it's been kind of fun trying to get Sindee to understand, kind of like training my canispup!
It took a lot of gesturing with all four of my arms, but Sindee finally understood. I gestured some more to ask where it was from. It said something that sounded like Erth. What a strange name! So gutteral! I tried to repeat it but it was too hard for me. Spoken language is really complex. How do such primitive creatures have the capacity to think about all the elements of language, like grammar and syntax, while also pushing air and forming mouth movements? It really is amazing!
\*\*\*
Dear Diary,
I saw Sindee fiddling with the ship today. From what I can gather, Sindee is running out of provisions. I offered it a packet of my glowing nutskins, but I guess it can't eat that. It couldn't crack it with its teeth! How silly is that? Teeth that can't even crack nutskins! Why even have teeth? Maybe its function is just to help with speech.
It seems like Sindee's ship has run out of fuel. That seemed like an easy fix. I tried to pour the water into the tank, but Sindee screamed at me. It sounded just like a wild owlscreecher! I was so surprised I dropped the cup completely and the water pooled over the ground.
The craziest part--Sindee was so shocked that it started leaking out of its eyes! It was clear, just like the water. I guess when it drinks so much water, it probably becomes water too. I'm not sure why Sindee was so hysterical. Its breathing was erratic and I was scared it might choke on its own water!
I quickly scooped the dropped water back into the cup and tried to show it that it was okay. Sindee just stared at it. It looked at the ground and then back into the cup. Then it spoke a string of words that I couldn't figure out at all. I don't really get what happened. It's not like things disappear once it hits the ground. It's a solid slate. Everything just settles on top.
Eventually, Sindee calmed down. It seemed wary to accept the cup this time, almost as if it was expecting the water to be changed. I urged Sindee to drink it--it seems like they need a lot of water and I can't siphon any more from the car today or else Mom will know. Luckily, she drives everywhere so won't notice a little missing here and there.
Sindee kept hesitating, but eventually, after I tipped the cup into her mouth, it did drink it. It really does seem like these creatures need a lot of supervision and care even for their most basic needs. I don't know what Sindee would have done if I hadn't found her.
Afterwards, Sindee showed me what was in the fuel tank. And it was the craziest thing! Did you know they still use petroleum as fuel?? I know! That's what the first Parqons used before we discovered cleaner methods. It surprises me more and more just how backwards Sindee's parqons are!
I said I'd try to help. Eventually Sindee understood and then it tried to strangle me!! Only, I realised afterwards that wrapping its two skinny arms wasn't actually an attack, but some sort of sign of affection? When it was squeezing me, I could feel just how soft and fleshy it actually was. Underneath the crinkly armour it wore, it was actually quite delicate. I could have crushed it easily between just two of my arms! Sindee's lucky that I think first and act second. That could have ended very badly for it. I'll need to find a way to tell it to be more careful in the future. You'd think that something so squishy would be more aware of dangers...
I'm not sure where I'm going to find petroleum. Sindee might have to remain here even longer. Maybe I can convince Mom to let it stay with us. It could be a replacement pet for my canispup.
\*\*\*
Dear Diary,
Sindee was gone when I went to visit today. The ship was gone too. I guess it found the petroleum it needed to return home. At least, I hope that's the case. Otherwise, it would mean the Order found it, and well... I'd rather not think about that.
I hope Sindee is safe. It's silly, but I do worry about it. It's so helpless, like a baby.
One day, when I grow up, I'm going to become a star walker. I'm going to fly to Erth and find Sindee, and the first thing I'm going to do is circle my two arms around it in an affection attack!
\*\*\*
Thanks for reading! If you'd like to see more from me, feel free to check out: r/rulerofstorybears | She was a frail creature, much smaller than Levi was, but she had a sense of familiarity that lingered over their time together. Like they had known each other far longer than a few days -- when he found her, after she hurtled from the sky and landed miles from his home.
For the first few days all she did was sleep, confined to the prison box that she came down upon. Most, Levi thought, would think it a curse. But he, unlike many in his village, was curious of the world and the stars and the legends of their ancestors. No one remembered the days when people flew amongst the stars, but the books were littered about old ruins. Old ruins that Levi felt drawn to.
On the third day, she woke, gasping for air and throwing the box open in a mechanical hiss. For anyone else, they would've turned tail and ran, but Levi merely sat there, a giant compared to her, waiting for her to say something -- do anything.
She asked for water first, choosing not to acknowledge Levi's extraordinary size compared to hers. And so he gave it to her. Hours later, she asked for food, and Levi offered what sustenance he could. *She was lucky,* he thought, *for my hunt had just begun.*
They did not speak after that, but instead sat in silence as the bear meat cooked over a roaring flame. Her eyes were transfixed on it, on the fire, on the meat, on the world around her that Levi knew she did not recognize. He stared at her the first few nights, wondering what her eyes were looking for -- trying to find an answer in the dark shades of honey he saw within her irises.
*I will ask her,* he thought, *when the time is right.*
____
It came the next morning. She was awake first, kindling the embers of a dying fire. For a moment, he did not acknowledge that he was awake. Instead, he laid still and examined her. She had long, flowing hair that was disheveled and bushy, and wore a suit of cloth that Levi did not recognize. More so, across the suit were letters and numbers, but the most distinct was a patch on the left side of the suit. Clearly printed, on blue and red, were four letters. NASA.
He rose his head slightly, then sat up, crossed his legs and stared at the women on the other side of the cracking embers. She looked at him, poked the embers with a long stick, and smiled. Levi smiled back.
"Nasa," he said, breaking the silence that lingered between them that morning. "Is that what they call you?"
She stared at him, her honey-glazed eyes blinking in the morning sun. Shock. Confusion. Levi did not know what plagued her thoughts.
"You came from the sky," he said.
She nodded, silent still. He gave her a moment. She reached for the bag filled with water, the same liquid that powered his hovercraft, parked just feet away. Nasa drank it straight from the bag, lifting the cool water to her lips. She let the water dribble around her mouth, before wiping it away.
"Do you--" he began, but stopped when she stood up. He did not move, remaining cross-legged on the other side of the fire. *Patience,* he thought.
He wondered what she was doing. Then she looked up to the sky and took a deep breath. "You can call me Nasa," she said -- her voice was rough, coarse, as if not used in years. "If you think that suits me."
He nodded. When she stood, she was as tall as Levi was when he was sitting. *Frail,* he thought again, *for someone to have come from the sky.*
"Do you have a name?"
"They call me Levi," he said. "My village, that is."
"I see." She said and stretched her arms into the sky. She took a few deep breaths, then looked at Levi. The smile lingered for a moment, then faltered. "Was there anyone else?"
He knew what she meant. She fell from the sky during a great storm and came crashing down to earth in a single, sudden ball of fire. Levi shook his head. She acknowledged it, sat back down, poked the embers again.
They sat that way for a few minutes.
"I did not come from the sky," she said, "but rather another world."
*Curious,* he thought.
"Another time, perhaps." She spoke in half-truths, Levi knew, something held her back.
They sat in silence a while longer.
"I read about you," Levi said. "Well, not you--you, but your kind. Sky-farers. The books say there were hundreds of you, thousands even."
"Astronauts," she said, smirking. "Or cosmonauts. That's what they called us. One in the same at the end of the day. Just people looking for a home."
"My village is near," he said, "if you need a home."
She poked the embers, staring silently at the small flames that popped in the morning air. "I did have one," Nasa said, "a home that is. Never wanted to leave, but the greater good and all that." She shrugged.
*She'll explain,* he thought, *let her.*
"I was not supposed to be the first," she said.
"Of the--" he sounded out the word in his head, then said it aloud, "Astrahnaughts."
She smirked, "Close enough. Yes."
"What happened to them?"
She looked at him now, straight-on, her eyes staring into his very soul. Levi had felt the familiar come over him again, as if he was staring at his grandmother, her eyes that held wisdom behind them. "A question for another time," she said at last. "For it is just me and this world," she looked back at the fire, "this time is not what is was supposed to be."
He thought about pushing, about asking more. His curiosity burning inside of him like a great fire, stronger than the embers that whittled and died in front of them. But he knew that she felt alone, scared and lost, in a world she did not know. He had known that feeling. Maybe that is what he sensed in her -- the familiarity of being lost.
"I can take you there," he said at last, "to the ruins -- the books I read of your people. You may not be alone, Nasa."
She smiled. "A wonderful thought. I would like that," she said, still staring at the embers. "But for now, tell me about this world, this place." She looked up at him, "About you."
And so, he opened his mouth, and told the story of his world.
________
EDIT: Thank you everyone for the nice comments! I am working on a possible continuation for this prompt, but we'll see! | |
[WP] Dear diary, I’ve been feeding this creature that fell from the sky for a few days. It strangely likes to drink water, the liquid we use to fuel cars. I noticed a patch on its suit today that read “NASA”. I’ll ask it tomorrow what that means. If that’s it’s name. | Dear diary,
This is my first entry into this notebook. I don’t really know why I’m doing this, but I guess that it will help me record everything about the creature that I found. Yesterday, something out of metals hit the surface of my jakura-fields, right from the sky. It resembled a bit our space-racers, but it was too small to actually being able to contain enough fuel to even start flying and there was a single creature inside of it. I don’t think that only one creature would be able to do everything that needs to be done on a space-racer. I let it slide and picked the creature up, guessing that this kind was able to multitask.
The creature was weird. I knew that there existed other living forms on other planets, we even made alliance with the Dar-najun’s a decade ago, but this creature looked just...weird. It was nothing that I knew of, it didn’t resemble any of the aliens in a few light-years of radius away. It was boney and soft and had a weird bubble of glass around its head. I laid it on my bed and examined its body for a few moments. My antennas wiggled excited, not ever seeing such kind of fascinating skeleton and complex set of organs, and my feathers couldn’t stop themselves from puffing up.
After a while I figured it was safe to take of the weird costume, that probably had a decorative, maybe ritual or religious background. If it was sacred, I hoped the creature would forgive me. But I’m sure it will, when it realizes that it was essential for tending its wounds. If it even had that level of cognitive and rational thinking.
I wanted to put the glass on the table beside me, when I heard a weird, painful moan. I dropped the glass and my feathers turned a dark purple out of fear. I turned to the creature. It was covering the sides of its head after the glass bubble made a loud noise when it crashed onto the floor. At least I know where their hearing-organs are.
After a few moments of silence filled with heavy breaths that came from the creature, its energy around it changed from confused to panic. It’s hands quickly touched their face and their body. My antennas became still out of the amount of fear the creature gave and I couldn’t help but gasp. It’s head immediately shot to me, it’s face filled pure fear of survival. It looked at the costume in my hands and at the glass bubble on the floor and put its own hand around the place where an organ that my antennas detected earlier gave it life force. The creature half-closed it’s eyes, staring at me. The rhythmic beat of the organ seemed to relax the creature and it sighed.
It widened its eyes and stared at me. The orbs seemed so intelligent, and at the same time ready to either fight or flee for its survival. I slowly put the costume away, almost inching to not to alarm the creature. My antennas reached out to it to read its emotions better. The creature eyed them warily. It seemed like they don’t trust strangers. One point to intelligence.
It’s gaze came back to my eyes and I slowly sat down. The creature barked something and I couldn’t help but to click out of surprise. The creature shuffled back, it’s back plastered to the wall. It frowned and gave out the exact same click. I almost jumped out of my clothes hearing it.
“You are good at mimicry,” I said, making the creature frown.
My antennas detected confusion. Why did I expect it to speak the same language as I? I don’t know. It kinda slipped out.
Anyway, I bit my tongue and sat on the floor, lowering my gaze to show it that I’m no treat.
Seconds after, I heard shuffles of material and pained groans. I looked up, to see the creature on the floor too, it’s limbs crossed in a weird way. It bared it’s teeth. My feathers straightened up, making themselves sharp and ready to stab someone. My antennas put me at ease, assuring that baring the teeth was supposed to be a weird way to show sympathy.
“You...re’good ‘t mimicry,” it said slowly in broken Ugalian, tripping at the clicks a few times.
In conclusion: the creature can mimic noises with impressively good quality, but only with practice and without knowing what it just mimicked. Short clicks are easier to mimic, complex sentences are confusing for their tongue.
It apparently started to give me trust, because he rolled up the clothes around it’s chest and showed me a deep wound and a few bruises. Then he lost consciousness, falling right into my arms. If that isn’t a sign of trust, then I don’t know what it could be.
+++
Dear diary, I’ve been feeding the creature different things for a few days now. It strangely loves to consume water, especially when it’s the fuel that is used to fuel cars. When it came to the other things, it was more cautious. It observed me closely as I gave it food and liquids and took just a small bite or a tiny sip before he either spit it out and showed it away, making a gesture with its head, or consuming it with satisfaction. It remembered too after two days what things it liked and disliked.
So:
-It has a short-term memory, potential long-term.
-it likes water for some reason.
-it likes corns the most.
I also found a patch on the costume. It read 'NASA'. I don’t know the meaning of it, but I’ll ask it tomorrow. Now the creature is sleepy and needs rest. I already suspect that NASA is the creatures name.
Other notes:
-DO NOT GIVE IT KADINEM, I SWEAR I THOUGHT IT WOULD DIE IN MY ARMS. It forgave me though. Or at least I think. It didn’t want to consume anything after trying kadinem.
-for some crazy reason it loves caffeine. Yes, I’m serious, that poison. That son of a gun consumed caffeine and it apparently helped the creature stay awake???
-> make tests about durability of the creature against poisons and how much it benefits it to consume them
-it has a rhythm where it lies down on my bed or anything that is even a bit comfortable and doesn’t move for around ten hours to preserve energy. It is normal. It isn’t dying. I think.
-> the creature’s equivalent to our relaxation?
-it has sensitive nerves and it experiences pain more than my kind (or all us known species in space for that matter) it was hard for me to tend its wounds.
-> check what amount of pain is tolerable for the creature because it sometimes sheds water out of their eyes.
(-> the eye-water thing: an emotional? reaction to too much pain)
+++
Dear diary,
NASA isn’t the creatures name. It took a long time for it to understand, and that after I used written language and images.
I drew myself and the creature on a whiteboard.
“Me,” I said and pointed at myself. The creature mimicked me clumsily. “You,” I pointed at the creature and it nodded.
“My name,” I said, pointing at the board and writing the word ‘name’ above the drawing of myself. “Is Esal,” I said and wrote my name beside the word 'name'.
I looked at the creature. It was confused. I sighed.
“Me,” I pointed at myself. “Esal,” I pointed at my name on the board. “Me, Esal. Esal is a name.”
I needed to repeat it once more for the creature to understand.
“You Esal,” it said and I couldn’t help it but scream out of joy and clapping my hands. My feathers changed to a happy yellow. It bared it’s teeth again.
“You?” I asked and showed it the patch. “NASA?”
It gave again a gesture that I understood as a 'no'.
“Cecil.”
Note:
-that creatures language is hard. No wonder it has the ability to mimicry so good
I tried to learn to say the name, but it took way too long. The creature proposed to be called 'Ce'. It was honestly a lot more easier.
I asked him afterwards what NASA was. My antennas detected unsureness and hesitation, not knowing how to explain what NASA was. It tried to draw and explain it to me, but together we decided that it wasn’t really worth it. The only thing that I understood was that NASA was behind the tiny metal space-racer, but nothing more.
Other notes:
-it likes to do different things. After it healed, it started to get bored and did so many things just to keep entertained.
-> keep it busy, try to continue it to learn Ugalian because I have a headache and my hands hurt from pointing and drawing everything.
-hot things have an opposite effect as caffeine; either if it is the sun shining at its face or a warm room/blanket or liquid makes it drowsy.
-IT APPARENTLY IS NORMAL FOR THEM TO CONSUME THE DEADLY BANKUJ, THAT CREATURE CAN EAT DEATH
I AM DONE
**im a new writer so criticism is really helpful!** | She was a frail creature, much smaller than Levi was, but she had a sense of familiarity that lingered over their time together. Like they had known each other far longer than a few days -- when he found her, after she hurtled from the sky and landed miles from his home.
For the first few days all she did was sleep, confined to the prison box that she came down upon. Most, Levi thought, would think it a curse. But he, unlike many in his village, was curious of the world and the stars and the legends of their ancestors. No one remembered the days when people flew amongst the stars, but the books were littered about old ruins. Old ruins that Levi felt drawn to.
On the third day, she woke, gasping for air and throwing the box open in a mechanical hiss. For anyone else, they would've turned tail and ran, but Levi merely sat there, a giant compared to her, waiting for her to say something -- do anything.
She asked for water first, choosing not to acknowledge Levi's extraordinary size compared to hers. And so he gave it to her. Hours later, she asked for food, and Levi offered what sustenance he could. *She was lucky,* he thought, *for my hunt had just begun.*
They did not speak after that, but instead sat in silence as the bear meat cooked over a roaring flame. Her eyes were transfixed on it, on the fire, on the meat, on the world around her that Levi knew she did not recognize. He stared at her the first few nights, wondering what her eyes were looking for -- trying to find an answer in the dark shades of honey he saw within her irises.
*I will ask her,* he thought, *when the time is right.*
____
It came the next morning. She was awake first, kindling the embers of a dying fire. For a moment, he did not acknowledge that he was awake. Instead, he laid still and examined her. She had long, flowing hair that was disheveled and bushy, and wore a suit of cloth that Levi did not recognize. More so, across the suit were letters and numbers, but the most distinct was a patch on the left side of the suit. Clearly printed, on blue and red, were four letters. NASA.
He rose his head slightly, then sat up, crossed his legs and stared at the women on the other side of the cracking embers. She looked at him, poked the embers with a long stick, and smiled. Levi smiled back.
"Nasa," he said, breaking the silence that lingered between them that morning. "Is that what they call you?"
She stared at him, her honey-glazed eyes blinking in the morning sun. Shock. Confusion. Levi did not know what plagued her thoughts.
"You came from the sky," he said.
She nodded, silent still. He gave her a moment. She reached for the bag filled with water, the same liquid that powered his hovercraft, parked just feet away. Nasa drank it straight from the bag, lifting the cool water to her lips. She let the water dribble around her mouth, before wiping it away.
"Do you--" he began, but stopped when she stood up. He did not move, remaining cross-legged on the other side of the fire. *Patience,* he thought.
He wondered what she was doing. Then she looked up to the sky and took a deep breath. "You can call me Nasa," she said -- her voice was rough, coarse, as if not used in years. "If you think that suits me."
He nodded. When she stood, she was as tall as Levi was when he was sitting. *Frail,* he thought again, *for someone to have come from the sky.*
"Do you have a name?"
"They call me Levi," he said. "My village, that is."
"I see." She said and stretched her arms into the sky. She took a few deep breaths, then looked at Levi. The smile lingered for a moment, then faltered. "Was there anyone else?"
He knew what she meant. She fell from the sky during a great storm and came crashing down to earth in a single, sudden ball of fire. Levi shook his head. She acknowledged it, sat back down, poked the embers again.
They sat that way for a few minutes.
"I did not come from the sky," she said, "but rather another world."
*Curious,* he thought.
"Another time, perhaps." She spoke in half-truths, Levi knew, something held her back.
They sat in silence a while longer.
"I read about you," Levi said. "Well, not you--you, but your kind. Sky-farers. The books say there were hundreds of you, thousands even."
"Astronauts," she said, smirking. "Or cosmonauts. That's what they called us. One in the same at the end of the day. Just people looking for a home."
"My village is near," he said, "if you need a home."
She poked the embers, staring silently at the small flames that popped in the morning air. "I did have one," Nasa said, "a home that is. Never wanted to leave, but the greater good and all that." She shrugged.
*She'll explain,* he thought, *let her.*
"I was not supposed to be the first," she said.
"Of the--" he sounded out the word in his head, then said it aloud, "Astrahnaughts."
She smirked, "Close enough. Yes."
"What happened to them?"
She looked at him now, straight-on, her eyes staring into his very soul. Levi had felt the familiar come over him again, as if he was staring at his grandmother, her eyes that held wisdom behind them. "A question for another time," she said at last. "For it is just me and this world," she looked back at the fire, "this time is not what is was supposed to be."
He thought about pushing, about asking more. His curiosity burning inside of him like a great fire, stronger than the embers that whittled and died in front of them. But he knew that she felt alone, scared and lost, in a world she did not know. He had known that feeling. Maybe that is what he sensed in her -- the familiarity of being lost.
"I can take you there," he said at last, "to the ruins -- the books I read of your people. You may not be alone, Nasa."
She smiled. "A wonderful thought. I would like that," she said, still staring at the embers. "But for now, tell me about this world, this place." She looked up at him, "About you."
And so, he opened his mouth, and told the story of his world.
________
EDIT: Thank you everyone for the nice comments! I am working on a possible continuation for this prompt, but we'll see! | |
[WP] Dear diary, I’ve been feeding this creature that fell from the sky for a few days. It strangely likes to drink water, the liquid we use to fuel cars. I noticed a patch on its suit today that read “NASA”. I’ll ask it tomorrow what that means. If that’s it’s name. | Three days after his fall, NASA still hadn't spoken to me.
It quickly became clear that this creature was unaccustomed to the ways of my people. We Quelbrigs have been here for millennia, and most neighboring planets are at the very least aware of us. But not NASA.
I’d managed to piece together the sounds of its name from what little English I knew. Remnants of the ancient language were peppered across my planet, but I hadn’t studied it, or its origins, extensively. The creature appeared perturbed when I called it "NASA," but it hadn't given me any alternatives, so there it was.
I'd tried all of the traditional Quelbrig hospitality - a plate of pickled tentacles made with my grandmother's recipe, a performance of our national anthem by the neighborhood quartet. Still nothing.
NASA began to draw crowds. I peered outside my PlexiDome each morning to find a sea of curious, gray Quelbrig heads trying to catch a glimpse of the creature. For the time being, I'd put NASA up in my guest-pod. It didn't seem to want to go outside anyway.
I decided to pay a visit to the town historian, Sleeg. As soon as I mentioned NASA, he perked up.
"I was hoping you'd stop by, Meeko," he said, pulling a miniscreen out of a drawer. "That creature you're currently housing is a 'human.'"
"A what?" I asked.
"A human. Relatively harmless - although, as a species, they have a history of infighting. At some point, many millennia ago, there was a mass exodus to other planets. This planet - ours - became inhospitable to them for a number of reasons. I wouldn't ask NASA about it; it was all rather traumatic. But perhaps you can ask him what led him back here...to the planet he once inhabited."
"How?" I asked. "He doesn't speak a lick of Quelbrigese."
"Have patience, young Meeko," Sleeg said with a grin.
Over the next few days, I made some half-hearted attempts at grunting before I realized that pointing and gesturing would do the trick. I mimicked NASA's fall from the sky with my fingers, then tilted my head to indicate a question. NASA sighed, stood up, and walked to our refrigeration pod. He pointed at it, then pointed to himself. Ah. Cryogenic freezing, perhaps.
NASA then made an explosion noise with his mouth and repeated the gesture of his fall to Earth.
I shook my head in dismay. Whatever act of self-preservation the humans intended had clearly gone terribly wrong.
I returned to Sleeg's hut every night to learn every shred of information I could. I learned about the technological skeletons humans had left behind, and how we'd built our society from them. I learned about their homes, their families, their mating. There wasn't as much as I'd have liked, due largely to the antiquity of the original recordings, but it was enough.
I learned that our planet's air was safe for humans to breathe, so I allowed NASA to remove its helmet - sorry, *his* helmet. I let him step into our cleansing pod. He started to eat more of our food, albeit begrudgingly. He stepped outside and went for walks, paying no mind to the stares of my neighbors.
On the nineteenth day after NASA's fall, I turned out all the lights in the house and waited for him to come back from his walk. Then I turned them all on to reveal a small group of us, standing in the living room, who yelled "SURPRISE!" in broken English.
NASA covered his mouth with his hands, but couldn't hide the smile bursting onto his face. He stepped over to look at the Quelbrig sweetcakes I'd prepared, which spelled out "WELLCOM HOME" in icing.
He took a bite of the sweetcake, and I saw him laugh for the first time.
As he smiled and greeted everyone, cheerily gesturing and nodding, I was fully convinced that NASA would acclimate to our ways. Perhaps I'd learn his name; perhaps he'd learn our language. Perhaps he'd move into his own pod and become one of us.
But for now, being here - with the scent of sweetcakes and the sound of multispecies laughter filling the room - was enough. | She was a frail creature, much smaller than Levi was, but she had a sense of familiarity that lingered over their time together. Like they had known each other far longer than a few days -- when he found her, after she hurtled from the sky and landed miles from his home.
For the first few days all she did was sleep, confined to the prison box that she came down upon. Most, Levi thought, would think it a curse. But he, unlike many in his village, was curious of the world and the stars and the legends of their ancestors. No one remembered the days when people flew amongst the stars, but the books were littered about old ruins. Old ruins that Levi felt drawn to.
On the third day, she woke, gasping for air and throwing the box open in a mechanical hiss. For anyone else, they would've turned tail and ran, but Levi merely sat there, a giant compared to her, waiting for her to say something -- do anything.
She asked for water first, choosing not to acknowledge Levi's extraordinary size compared to hers. And so he gave it to her. Hours later, she asked for food, and Levi offered what sustenance he could. *She was lucky,* he thought, *for my hunt had just begun.*
They did not speak after that, but instead sat in silence as the bear meat cooked over a roaring flame. Her eyes were transfixed on it, on the fire, on the meat, on the world around her that Levi knew she did not recognize. He stared at her the first few nights, wondering what her eyes were looking for -- trying to find an answer in the dark shades of honey he saw within her irises.
*I will ask her,* he thought, *when the time is right.*
____
It came the next morning. She was awake first, kindling the embers of a dying fire. For a moment, he did not acknowledge that he was awake. Instead, he laid still and examined her. She had long, flowing hair that was disheveled and bushy, and wore a suit of cloth that Levi did not recognize. More so, across the suit were letters and numbers, but the most distinct was a patch on the left side of the suit. Clearly printed, on blue and red, were four letters. NASA.
He rose his head slightly, then sat up, crossed his legs and stared at the women on the other side of the cracking embers. She looked at him, poked the embers with a long stick, and smiled. Levi smiled back.
"Nasa," he said, breaking the silence that lingered between them that morning. "Is that what they call you?"
She stared at him, her honey-glazed eyes blinking in the morning sun. Shock. Confusion. Levi did not know what plagued her thoughts.
"You came from the sky," he said.
She nodded, silent still. He gave her a moment. She reached for the bag filled with water, the same liquid that powered his hovercraft, parked just feet away. Nasa drank it straight from the bag, lifting the cool water to her lips. She let the water dribble around her mouth, before wiping it away.
"Do you--" he began, but stopped when she stood up. He did not move, remaining cross-legged on the other side of the fire. *Patience,* he thought.
He wondered what she was doing. Then she looked up to the sky and took a deep breath. "You can call me Nasa," she said -- her voice was rough, coarse, as if not used in years. "If you think that suits me."
He nodded. When she stood, she was as tall as Levi was when he was sitting. *Frail,* he thought again, *for someone to have come from the sky.*
"Do you have a name?"
"They call me Levi," he said. "My village, that is."
"I see." She said and stretched her arms into the sky. She took a few deep breaths, then looked at Levi. The smile lingered for a moment, then faltered. "Was there anyone else?"
He knew what she meant. She fell from the sky during a great storm and came crashing down to earth in a single, sudden ball of fire. Levi shook his head. She acknowledged it, sat back down, poked the embers again.
They sat that way for a few minutes.
"I did not come from the sky," she said, "but rather another world."
*Curious,* he thought.
"Another time, perhaps." She spoke in half-truths, Levi knew, something held her back.
They sat in silence a while longer.
"I read about you," Levi said. "Well, not you--you, but your kind. Sky-farers. The books say there were hundreds of you, thousands even."
"Astronauts," she said, smirking. "Or cosmonauts. That's what they called us. One in the same at the end of the day. Just people looking for a home."
"My village is near," he said, "if you need a home."
She poked the embers, staring silently at the small flames that popped in the morning air. "I did have one," Nasa said, "a home that is. Never wanted to leave, but the greater good and all that." She shrugged.
*She'll explain,* he thought, *let her.*
"I was not supposed to be the first," she said.
"Of the--" he sounded out the word in his head, then said it aloud, "Astrahnaughts."
She smirked, "Close enough. Yes."
"What happened to them?"
She looked at him now, straight-on, her eyes staring into his very soul. Levi had felt the familiar come over him again, as if he was staring at his grandmother, her eyes that held wisdom behind them. "A question for another time," she said at last. "For it is just me and this world," she looked back at the fire, "this time is not what is was supposed to be."
He thought about pushing, about asking more. His curiosity burning inside of him like a great fire, stronger than the embers that whittled and died in front of them. But he knew that she felt alone, scared and lost, in a world she did not know. He had known that feeling. Maybe that is what he sensed in her -- the familiarity of being lost.
"I can take you there," he said at last, "to the ruins -- the books I read of your people. You may not be alone, Nasa."
She smiled. "A wonderful thought. I would like that," she said, still staring at the embers. "But for now, tell me about this world, this place." She looked up at him, "About you."
And so, he opened his mouth, and told the story of his world.
________
EDIT: Thank you everyone for the nice comments! I am working on a possible continuation for this prompt, but we'll see! | |
[WP] You take your son under the bed, “See? Nothing under here.” You then hear something climb on top of the bed. | “There's nothing under the bed champ” I smile down reassuringly at Scottie. He has his bedsheets pulled up tightly around him. I remember doing the same at his age, everyone knows a monster's greatest weakness is blankets. Same applies to ghosts, vampires and axe-wielding maniacs.
“You don't know for sure.” He looks up at me with scared, wide eyes. “I heard it, whispering under my bed.”
“It was only the wind honey” I say, sitting down beside him. I embrace him in my arms, he feels warm and clammy as his head rests against me. “Sometimes it can sound like whispering.”
“No mama, I heard it coming from under my bed though. It said there were monsters in my room.” He wriggles away from me, his voice rising in frustration. I realise what I have to do.
“Fine sweetie” I tell him, rising to my feet.
“Mama, no you can't” Scottie cries out, pulling the sheets back up around him.
“It's fine” I tell him. “If we go under the bed and there is a monster then I will tell him to kindly piss off” Scottie giggles at my bad language. “But if there's not then you have to go back to sleep. Come on.” I hold my hand out to him. He takes it and crawls out from under the covers.
Hand in hand we stand together looking down the bed. I take a deep breath and for a brief second I feel a little frightened; what would I really do if there was actually a monster there? I tell myself not to be ridiculous.
“Come on” I beam at Scottie “lets go.” I drop to my knees first and wriggle under the small single bed. “Nothing here” I call out. Reassured Scottie crawls in behind me.
“Nothing here” Scottie repeats, his little face finally smiling back at me.
“I really do need to run the vacuum under here though” I mumble to myself. “Come on sweetheart, lets go back to bed.”
As we are about to wriggle out I hear the bedsprings creak, as I feel the weight of the mattress sag above us.
“Mama” Scottie grasps my hand. I grasp back. Must be the cat, I think to myself, but I know the weight above is too heavy.
“See” a voice grunts from up on the bed. “There aren't any monsters above the bed. But I really should dust up here. Now go back to sleep.”
“Okay Papa” a smaller voice responds. The weight on the mattress shifts and two large clawed feet drop down before us.
I feel Scottie's body tense up beside me, and I know he is about to scream. Quickly I place my hand over his opened mouth.
“Ssshh...” I whisper, pulling him back the way we had crawled in, away the feet. Another, smaller set of clawed feet, lowers themselves down. The mattress no longer sags above us. Frantically, I climb up out from under the bed, yanking Scottie up with me. He grips my hand tightly.
The bed is empty, apart from a scaly hand that brushes along the edge of the crumpled sheets and back down underneath. | We crouched near the bed. Krish grabbed my little finger and squeezed it. I smiled at my little man's strength. 'See? Nothing under here.' I said. I wiped his snot away and let him observe the empty space under his bed.
'But... but I heard someone cry.' Krish said in a slow, sucking voice.
'Let's go exploring, shall we? I'll make sure nothing has jumped into the bed.' I began to crawl under the bed. Krish's eyes darted around and he slid under the bed with me.
'See? No hiding space anywhere.' I said and tapped on the underbelly of the bed.
The bed squeaked above us and a baby's muffled cry filled the room. Krish was right beside my left ear but the cry seemed above me. I looked at Krish who was biting his lips and then I realized his nails were digging into my hand.
Silence.
My breath fogged the floor. This wasn't my son's imagination. There was something on the bed. I put my arm across Krish and began to slide out of the dark place. I put my finger on his lips and nodded at him. He nodded back and sucked his cheeks in.
I put him on the floor facing away from the bed and wiped his tears. I closed his eyes and said, 'Don't open your eyes. Daddy will check what's annoying my baby.' I smiled. I am glad that the last thing my son saw was my smile. Hope it was reassuring.
I stood up and a deformed bag of flesh with a yellow set of eyes stared back at me. I almost fell back. My stomach threatened to throw out its contents. I could see blue veins across the mass and familiar structure of arms and legs.
'What... what is this?' I said and looked around almost expecting someone to jump out and shout "It's a prank, bro!" I was ready to punch the face for involving my son.
A hole transformed into the mass and I heard that cry again. A wet patch of hair flew out of the hole. I was going to yell for the prankster to show themselves when a voice came out of the thing. 'Hi Papa.'
Air escaped me. Papa? 'Who... what are you?'
'You don't even recognize me.' came that raspy voice and it wailed. My son at my feet slammed his hands over his ears. 'I'm your daughter, Papa.' It's tiny arms opened up towards me. Slime trickled down on the bed.
'Huh?' I could not pinpoint how the thing spoke but the voice was coming out of it. Maybe there was a speaker hidden under there. 'Stop it. It's not funny!' Now I yelled to the room.
'You feel I am funny? You made me this way, Papa.' the thing said.
Fuck this, I thought. I didn't want my son to be traumatized. I turned and began to stoop down to pick him up.
'Touch him and I will rip the skin out of his body!' the thing screamed at me.
I froze. Who has the guts to take such a sick joke so far?
I looked back over and the thing was standing crooked on its things that resembled legs. Instead of toes, one leg had a single slimy nail. I could not see any speaker around and the thing did not have any wires flowing out of it.
'Who are you?' I found my voice cracking.
'I told you.' Did I see a tongue moving inside the thing's mouth?
'Stop it.'
'Stop what? I just want my share of love.' the thing said.
'What?'
'Mommy and you tried to kill me two years ago. You flushed me down the toilet. But I survived. Life is agonizing. Help me, Papa.' Both its arms stretched out towards me.
No one knows my wife's only abortion. 'Yana, this is NOT funny at all.' I yelled again.
'Mommy is downstairs.' The thing replied.
This is a nightmare, I thought and bent down to pick up my son. As soon as I put my hands under his arms, he gave out a brain freezing cry. I saw skin come off his fingers as if they were bananas. I let him go and pleaded, 'Stop it. Please stop it.' I cried. How do you wake up out of a nightmare when you are aware of it?
Suddenly, my son went quiet but I could still see his red flesh and the skin hanging from it on his fingers.
'This is not a dream.' The thing said.
'What do you want? Please. My son--'
'Take my hand and I'll fix your son. We both then go to a place I've found where you will be my Papa. Reject it, and I will take him and I will make sure you never have a child again.'
I looked down at my son who had his mouth open but eerily silent as if I was watching him in a muted TV. 'Krish, go to Mummy.' I said.
I just want this damn nightmare to end, I thought and touched the thing's tiny hand. The world went dark. | |
Thought this was a cool idea. Looking forward to read the stuff you guys will come up with ! | [WP] You lost both of your eyes in highschool after a car accident. Years later when walking in the park with your guide dog, Archie, a woman aproaches you to ask for permission to pet her, but you are just standing there, shocked because you can see her as clear as day | It's been five years since the crash. As a 16 year old kid I felt invincible so when my friend invited me to a party I decided to sneak out and jump in his car. There were 5 of us in the car, empty beer cans spread across the floor of the truck on the way to the outskirts of town. When my friend went up to chug a beer I saw the light turn red and turned my head to see an incoming car. It was the last thing I ever saw. Next thing I knew I was in the hospital, the wreck broke one of my arms and both of my legs, glass shards went into my eyes blinding me immediately. After months of physical therapy I was able to write again and later was able to walk unassisted. Years went on and my parents got me an eye dog, Rodgers. Rodgers was a pit-lab mix, heard he looked derpy but he was always a good boy. Always took him on walks, the park was my favorite spot because I could smell the fresh air, sprawl out on the ground with Rodgers and pretend I could see something other than blackness. It was March 16, 2019 when I saw "her". The park was pretty crowded that day but when I was walking by what sounded like a family I saw something. An old lady was sitting on a bench but she wasn't quite right; her arms were too long, her neck creaked to one side and her smile.. when she saw me looking at her she gave a long wide smile with jagged teeth. She, no it, it came over to me, walking that inhuman swayed walk and stopped right in front of me. "Can I pet your dog?" A raspy voice came out. I was stuck in fear, I wanted to run but my legs wouldn't move. I saw her bend down and I could feel Rodgers shaking through the leash. Her long jagged fingers went down to a shadow I could nearly make out and I heard a whimper and a snap as she reached her fingers into the outline of Rodgers. A heart failure, that what the vet said. Somehow a clot entered my dogs heart and killed it. I wanted to tell someone but I don't know how. 2 weeks later I hear a knocking at the door, as I make my way towards the door I see a figure through the door. "Can I pet your dog?" A voice cracks out, "can I pet you?". I drop down in the hallway and cry. Don't know when morning came but moved back into my parents place the following day. It's been better since I moved back but every night, if I glance over to wear I know my window to be, I can see her on the sidewalk, staring back. | “Poem” first time on this subreddit !! Give me some advice, I’m a young writer :)
Lime green eyes; rose-tinted cheeks
A bob for yellow hair; a nose that pointed toward the moon
And I could see it
She wore a corduroy jacket on top of an upside down tank
A skin tight skirt wrapped around her unshaven legs
Her heels wore a beige bow tie at its midpoint
a heavy shade of purple caressed her lips
And I could see it
Her pearl-like teeth complimented her crooked smile as she bent over to pet my dog
Every inch of her body had an embellishment of different colors
a variety of different shapes
a compound of different sizes
Unbelievably, this woman in front of me watched as I stared at her gracious expression in awe
She watched me vividly, as if she planned on describing me by detail to her colleagues later on
But I didn’t care, nor I would’ve if she pulled out a camera, laughed in my face, and begun drawing a mustache on my upper lip
All I cared about was that I could see it |
Thought this was a cool idea. Looking forward to read the stuff you guys will come up with ! | [WP] You lost both of your eyes in highschool after a car accident. Years later when walking in the park with your guide dog, Archie, a woman aproaches you to ask for permission to pet her, but you are just standing there, shocked because you can see her as clear as day | I honestly don't remember the accident or even the next few weeks, hell, months after. I'm not sure if it's because of a head injury or just because until then my memories were more visual than the sounds and smells that make up all the memories I have today. I miss seeing new things outside of dreams, and with each passing year my dreams become less defined. I fear soon they'll be nothing but blobs of colors, a nice break from the not-even-black black that is all I have in my waking hours
Having Reku helps, he's soft and cares about me. The sound of his breathing as he sits in my lap always makes me feel better.
Reku is the best boy, always attentive and has never shown anybody (shy of the occasional squirrel) even a hint of aggression. When he stopped and growled as we were out on a walk I was honestly terrified. I ducked and cowered a bit, resting a hand on his back, awaiting his instruction. Then his tail wagged and I heard a woman ask "Are you alright sir?" I lifted my head up to speak to her, but as I did I was blinded (again?) by a bright light. It only lasted a moment, then I could see her. There was nothing around, just -void- as usual, but he face still reflected the sunlight that I knew was above. I scrambled backwards, tripping over myself unable to see my surroundings.
"Oh! My dad I didn't mean to startle you. Honestly I just saw your dog and wanted to compliment you on him, he looks so cute! I love dogs with jobs! - Sorry, do you want help up?" She reached out a hand, then retracted it obviously realizing I'd be unable to see her.
"Please," I put out my arm and I watched as her fingers curled around mine. It was honestly a bit disorienting, as I still couldn't see the ground she was standing on. "I'm John, and my friend here is Reku. He just got a bit antsy before you came over and I was checking on him."
"Sure hope I wasn't the cause of that. I'm Lyra, it's nice to meet you John."
I couldn't stop looking at her. I was thankful I had the excuse of being blind, as I'm sure she had to notice.
"I can see you?" I said it as a question.
"That's why I'm here, silly." She said, in soft mocking tone, before she stuck her tongue out at me.
After a pause, I managed to blurt out: "You're kinda freaking me out"
"I do always enjoy that part. Fun to watch you squirm for a second. I'll stop teasing."
She snapped her fingers and my previously void vision was filled with the sight of autumn leaves and oh my god is that the sun it's so bright it hurts. It hurts. "It hurts" I pelted out, through deep breaths of fire.
"Yeah, give it a few days. Those lil' old eyes of yours haven't done anything in what, a half a decade, they're gonna need some time to adjust mortal"
I looked down at Reku. He was well lit but at least looking at him on the ground meant keeping my eyes away from the sky.
She reached down, her pale skin drug a hand through Reku's black fur, a comet in the night sky.
"I'll catch you around, oh, and get some eye drops."
I dared to watch as she walked away, her black wings were now visible against the light of the sky. | “Poem” first time on this subreddit !! Give me some advice, I’m a young writer :)
Lime green eyes; rose-tinted cheeks
A bob for yellow hair; a nose that pointed toward the moon
And I could see it
She wore a corduroy jacket on top of an upside down tank
A skin tight skirt wrapped around her unshaven legs
Her heels wore a beige bow tie at its midpoint
a heavy shade of purple caressed her lips
And I could see it
Her pearl-like teeth complimented her crooked smile as she bent over to pet my dog
Every inch of her body had an embellishment of different colors
a variety of different shapes
a compound of different sizes
Unbelievably, this woman in front of me watched as I stared at her gracious expression in awe
She watched me vividly, as if she planned on describing me by detail to her colleagues later on
But I didn’t care, nor I would’ve if she pulled out a camera, laughed in my face, and begun drawing a mustache on my upper lip
All I cared about was that I could see it |
Thought this was a cool idea. Looking forward to read the stuff you guys will come up with ! | [WP] You lost both of your eyes in highschool after a car accident. Years later when walking in the park with your guide dog, Archie, a woman aproaches you to ask for permission to pet her, but you are just standing there, shocked because you can see her as clear as day | I could see her.
It took me a moment before that simple fact filtered through my muddled brain. By the heavens, I could see her! Since that damned accident a decade and a half ago, I’ve seen nothing but inky blackness before me. Yet here she was, nearly blinding me with details I never thought I’d see again, and she was SMILING at me.
Her hair was blowing gently in the wind, and I could tell she’d washed it recently by the scent of mangos and soap that wafted delicately away with each touch of movement. It was a light blond, a color I remembered quite vividly but had only seen in my dreams for the last fifteen years. Her face was… lord, beautiful doesn’t begin to describe it. And those gorgeous emerald eyes, looking to me with an inquisitive gleam…
Oh. She asked me a question. Right. “Um.” I blinked, hating the fact I’d lose sight of her for even that scant sliver of time. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
She smiled at me reassuringly. “I just asked if I could pet her. She’s an adorable little doggie.”
“Ah. Well, you’re technically not supposed to pet a working dog while they’re working.” I smiled in what I hoped was a disarming way; it’d been so long since I felt like smiling, those muscles were quite rusty. “However, I’m not going anywhere, and I can hear his tail thumping, so I’ll happily allow it. Oh, and it’s a he, not a she; his name is Archie.”
“Oh, he’s a cutie, yes he is!” She knelt before where I knew he was and started scrubbing in earnest. I could feel his excitement through the harness; but to his credit, Archie only leaned into the scrubbing and thumped his tail. He knew he was still on duty.
“So, ah.” How in the world did I approach this? “Um, this is going to sound crazy, ma’am, but I can see you.”
“I know.” She didn’t look up at me, but something about the way she said it was… disturbing? Frightening? I’m not sure. “Oh, you’re a good doggie, Archie, aren’t you? Has Ethan been treating you right, I hope?” She didn’t wait for a response before she continued, “Oh of course he has, look at how happy you are.”
“Um, how do you know my name?”
Again, she didn’t look up. “I know quite a lot about you, Ethan. I know about the accident that killed your parents. I know about your struggles to adapt, how you hated living with your uncle, how you forced yourself to adapt to this new life, everything.”
She was a stalker. She had to be. I wanted to run, but really, what good would that do? Other than this gorgeous woman before me, everything around me was darkness. Running through a crowded city while blind didn’t seem like a good idea. “So… how…”
She sighed, deeply, like she was regretting her next words. “Here, Ethan. You might as well know. I’d wanted to try giving you just a bit more time, but-” She stood up and looked at me, as if second-guessing herself, before she reached out and took my hand in hers.
Color exploded around me, colors and sights I hadn’t seen in forever. I gaped in open-mouthed astonishment as trees, grass, pavement, buildings, people, the sky… all of it wide open, and as full of details as I remembered.
The awe faded quickly, though, the moment I realized I was standing next to a horrific vehicle accident. Three cars were sprawled across the street, debris scattered throughout the buildings. People were rushing to the scene, trying to pull mangled bodies out of the wreckage. One man, an older man with a distinguished look, was doing CPR on someone frantically.
Something about the man receiving CPR touched deep within me, and I realized where I’d seen that profile before. It was very similar to one I’d seen in wedding photos of my father, back when he and my mother married.
A chill ran down my back. “Is that…”
She nodded sadly. “I’m afraid so, Ethan. You were crossing the street when the first car spun out of control. Even if you’d had your full sight, there wouldn’t have been anything you could have done.” The woman shook her head. “It will be revealed at the trial later that the young man behind the wheel was texting. Though he survived, I’m afraid you and four others did not.”
“… Oh.” I watched the scene with almost a detached interest. It’d been so long since I could see, I was unconsciously drinking up all the sordid details of what was apparently my demise. “So, that makes you...?”
“I’ve come to take you home.” She smiled reassuringly. “Just take my hand, and we’ll be off.”
“What about Archie?” I frantically realized I didn’t see him in amongst the wreckage. “Did he-“
“Archie… can come with us, if you’d like.”
That hurt. I looked down at what had been my companion for the last four years, seeing the golden Labrador for the first time. He was, as the lady had so eloquently put it, quite adorable as he stared up at me with eyes full of love. Love, and thankfully, no pain. What that meant, I didn't want to dwell too long on...
“As long as I can take Archie, then ok.”
“Come along, Ethan. Your parents are expecting you.”
With those words, a blinding white light enveloped my sight, chasing away the darkness. Forever. | "Uh...I'm not really supposed to...let people pet him..." I sputter. Because that's the only thought I can really formulate in that moment. It'd been drummed into me for weeks before I actually adopted Scoobert: if I let people pet him, it'd ruin his training.
The woman's face fell, and at that moment, I couldn't help noticing that she was really, really pretty. Like, in that aging Dame sort of way. She looked like she ought to be waltzing around some fancy old mansion in a ballgown. The first face I'd seen clearly in years and she was old and surprisingly pretty and sad.
"But-" I choked out, my heart hammering. "M-Maybe just this once?"
&#x200B;
She brightened and crouched down, patting Scoobert on the head. Scoobert glanced up at me uncertainly, and I shrugged. Not really sure how I could explain to him that I found this moment as bizarre as he did.
"I used to have a dog like this," the woman mused. "My father bred them for hunting ducks."
"Um...Scoobert's a poodle," I pointed out.
"Yes. I can see that." The woman rose and smiled at me in a way that made my insides feel like peppermints and Christmas morning. "Well, thank you, dear. You have a nice day."
And before I could way anything, she turned, took two steps, and vanished into the blurry scenery. |
[WP] An immortal alien race invades Earth, and arrogantly claims that we cannot, in anyway, shape, or form, kill them whatsoever. Death took that insult rather personal, and being bored as it is, decides to take it as a challenge to the extreme. | He is the first warlord. The god of war. Flint, fire, steel all bow down to his heel. He is bathed in blood. Neither chosen, nor appointed - he occupies the place that, but for him, would be vacant.
His is the right to reap those that are born, and therefore must die. His is the duty, as well. For eons he has performed it faithfully. He has watched over the creation and destruction, and protected the cosmic balance.
His vigil is unending. His resolve to keep it, unshakable.
He is death.
Mortals often live as if they shall never meet him. For years, they forget that they must eventually submit to him. But the earthlings know him well enough. They pay him homage. They say a silent prayer to him here and there. It amuses him. To see them try and forget him, and still offer him the reverence. He pardons their infractions. And gives them a gentle repose when time comes.
But he’s a fickle god, with a sharp scythe. Annoy him, defy him, or otherwise invite his wrath and your death will be so utter, so complete, that it would be as if you had never lived.
The race of beings that humans had found at their doorstep had lived for as far back as memory went. In their magnificent power they had thought themselves unstoppable. Many a gods had died or been defeated in the wake of their rise.
In their arrogance, they had dared defy death.
And that was their mistake.
Their fall was more glorious to see than their rise. Death the warlord, the blood-bathed, was in his full frenzy. Their empire was left in dust and ashes, scattered across cosmos. Their history, erased.
They are remembered by none, except by Death and I.
I am Time. The silent witness.
And when Death comes for me, even I must die. | \[Poem\] - I'm giving iambic tetrameter a go
There was naught any race that slipped
The final call of Death's sure bid
Until they came to Earth from stars
And cried their brazen challenge far:
"You cannot kill what cannot die,
We welcome every paltry try"
An insult to Death's simple job
To reap that which had faltered short
But true their words rang through the eons
They would not die from stab nor bomb
They shrugged off all that Death could bring
They dodged his every sickle swing
Frustrated, Death thought hard and long
He'd make them hear his siren song
Resorting on a plan quite bold
He'd visit on his friend of old
He searched the wind for greenest hues
For Life herself he would seduce
He brought her every gift he had
Romanced her till he made her glad
He graced her eyes with every shore
But always left her wanting more
She longed for Death, his sultry kiss
His supple lips a torrid feast
"What could I do to make you mine?"
She asked, quite shy, but eyes divine
He traced her curves through every bend
Then leaned in close and played his hand
"I only need a simple gift;
The lives of every alien beast!"
With Life and Death entwined on sand
The Earth belonged once more to man | |
[WP] An immortal alien race invades Earth, and arrogantly claims that we cannot, in anyway, shape, or form, kill them whatsoever. Death took that insult rather personal, and being bored as it is, decides to take it as a challenge to the extreme. | Aliens have shown up and declared an invasion of Earth. "Damn...guess I'll have some work over the next few weeks" Death had said to a TV that shows areas of the world. Death sighed, thinking about all of this work that will happen, while he heard these aliens talk, calling themselves the "anmkhit’ar" and that this invasion was because of a certain drug in this world, Sugar. Death laughed once he heard that last bit, but soon he stopped. He stopped laughing because of a few words that these...things spewed from their mouths..."immortal", "unkillable", and "undying". Although still calling it an invasion, they never killed anyone and were pacifists.
"These creatures from a different world showed up and arrogently claimed that they can avoid ME! I'll show them that I, feared and worshipped by all living creatures, will find them and make them join me." Death had yelled that to one of his subordinates while dressing himself into a nice suit. There were only a hundred of these creatures in all that have shown their face, and Death plans to make all of them have a chat with himself.
The first year that death began hunting in earnest once again was confused by their extreme regenerative ability at first. His first plan was to test whether or not they could die, so he set up a "accident" within a nearby workshop. The screws that held down a saw blade were partially loosened and once that abomination walked by, the saw shot out and went through the center of its head. Death was waiting, smiling smugly, for the spirit to appear, but the head begins to put itself back together before his eyes. Death retreated to think of a new plan.
Death had gone back to the underworld for some time but sent out his subordinates to try and kill these creatures until he comes back. Death goes to his office and pulls out a huge phone book. Death had overheard the creature say its homeworld while complaining about its clothes being drenched in its blood. "Sakaatho...sakaatho...sakaa- ah here it is" Death found the number to call for Sakaatho's death bringer. "Greetings! I have called you because it seems like a few from your domain has escaped into mine...in pursuit of...sugar" Death sighing that last bit. After a few minutes of explaining who was here, there was a very frustrated sound of throwing things on the other end of the phone. Once again after a few more minutes, everything appears to calm down and then Death hangs up. Death's servant asks if everything is alright. Death responds "It seems that Sakaatho's death also hasnt been able to kill them. They were able to die until a mutation appeared that regenerated small wounds and then were bred into what we currently see today. But they declared war on my domain...i shall see it through"
6 years later, none of the aliens are dead and Death is at his wits end. "Nothing worked...gunshots... explosions...acid... I even got one into a fucking nuclear plant that blew up". One of Deaths subordinates comes up to him with a clipboard. "Sir, Sir...I know that this is a difficult task but I have an idea" Death nods and motions him to continue talking. "Alright Sir, so i have been researching their planet, Sakaatho, and i have believe that they may possess allergies like our humans. We have our spies watching them and 3 of them have said that "odd behavior" happens around a few things that are natural allergens for humans. We could try going into that territory". Death sighs and nods "yes, please go ahead with that plan...actually...let me test it out myself. I'll go in person and even make a body to posses"
One of these aliens are chilling in a cafe having some cake with a sugar filled latte. Humans have gotten used to their existence by now and actively enjoy some of their company. Death, possessing a fake body that looks like a local comes in with a baseball bat covered in something. The alien, now responds to "steve", looks around and notices that nobody is moving anymore. Steve notices that one person is walking into the cafe and relieved to see a human moving. "Is this one of those...pranks?" Asked steve. Death, the only one moving besides Steve, walks up to steve and shakes his head. "Sorry, but abominations like you dont get pranks" Death then hits steve on the side of the torso and then proceeds to beat Steve into a pulp. Death doesnt care if this works or not at this point, he just wanted to relieve some of his stress. Over time Death sees that he isnt healing as much as before while noticing that "Steve" is going into their form of anaphylactic shock. After a few more minutes of beating steve, he dies. Death cries out in pure happiness and collects his soul to send back to the death of Sakaatho.
The Anaphylactic shock that these creatures go into lower their regenerative abilities, and Death plans to use all of Earths allergies to his advantage. Thus begins a hunt renewed. Death wields not a scythe, but a peanut butter covered baseball bat.
Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Please leave feedback if you wish! Its all appreciative | What a bunch of fools. They might have conquered space, but no one can conquer death. Not forever, at least. To claim to have done so is nothing more than arrogance.
They claimed that their advanced technology has made them beyond death. It's true that they are extremely durable, resistant, and don't seem to have the need to eat, drink, sleep, or even breathe. However, they aren't immune to pain, boredom, or madness.
It would've been easy to simply tear their soul from their body, just once quick slash of the scythe and it'd be over. But that wasn't the point. I wanted them to acknowledge and fully understand the folly of trying to be immortal, and the importance of death.
Perhaps it was an overstep of my boundaries to help the humans. To show them how these "Immortal" beings functioned. Perhaps it was a mistake to help them create that paralysis drug. I didn't care.
Watching them beg for death as their bodies failed them, but made it impossible for them to die. I almost felt pity for them, as they fled the earth. But, they had to be taught this lesson, no matter how painful it was. I followed them back of course, just to make sure.
As expected, they started working on fixing these "flaws" as they saw them as soon as they returned to their home planet. It didn't matter, for the ultimate flaw soon became clear.
Any children they had were soulless husk. They spent ages trying to figure out why, abandoning any previous study, until it finally dawned upon them. In selfishly clinging to their own souls, they prevent any of it from being passed on to their children.
They then set about doing everything in their power to become mortal again. | |
[WP] An immortal alien race invades Earth, and arrogantly claims that we cannot, in anyway, shape, or form, kill them whatsoever. Death took that insult rather personal, and being bored as it is, decides to take it as a challenge to the extreme. | It was the year 2020 and I was stuck indoors. I would like to say I had some aversion to leaving my home but truthfully I'm perfectly fine with observing the world through the internet with all of the safety and comfort that comes with staying at home. While I spent most of my time scrolling through content I enjoy reading like anime or games I do occasionally browse the news if I need to reaffirm my reasons for staying indoors.
Lately there's been a series of internet horror stories of people dying in their sleep through various means; a woman shot with no gun to be found, a man starved despite eating the night before, a boy aged to death overnight. While this trend of stories seemed entertaining at first, they quickly grew repetitive and it began feeling like people were just posting the same story with minor variations. All trends die, so I went to bed and hoped for better trends tomorrow.
It was on the night of November 13th that I had that dream, sometimes I was lucky enough to lucid dream on my own but that time my dream felt more real than my everyday life. It began with darkness and a voice, serene and pleasant.
"Greetings, we are here to play a little fun game."
Before I could respond or even muster a thought, another voice cuts through my mind like a knife, this one dark and stern.
"Don't waste our time with greetings, let me hurry the introduction."
I noticed a gap in the conversation between the two voices so I tried to speak but I couldn't feel my mouth move. I tried my best to produce a sentence in my mind but the presence of the two voices was so loud and overbearing that I could not even be left alone with a thought while the dark voice began its explanation.
"I am the cosmic embodiment of death, the reaper of all things, the very concept of the end, the omega and the inevitable fate of all things which exist."
I heard a light chuckle from the corner of my mind, which corner I wasn't sure.
"Or you were, until I came along."
The reaper continued its explanation, this time more irritated than before.
"That other voice you are hearing? That is an anomaly, an abomination, a blasphemy on the natural order of the universe. It cannot die and I cannot allow that. I have a simple task for you: kill it for me."
Naturally I had more questions that my mind could process and for once in my dream I was given the time to properly think: Is this real? How much of it is real? How does something in this universe avoid dying? Why does this reaper want this anomaly to die? Should I obey the reaper? Should I try to save the anomaly? Should I just try to wake up and write about this dream? My mind was a tornado in a library; thoughts and ideas flew about in chaotic abandon, by complete random chance one particular thought crossed my mind:
"Why me? Why, out of the billions of people on Earth, why choose me? What makes me so unique and special?"
I didn't even realize I said that thought out loud before the anomaly gave me a patient explanation.
"You weren't the first person we asked to do this for us and I can tell you with absolute certainty that you will not be the last."
I had no choice but to accept.
The world around me began to materialize slightly, before I couldn't even see darkness but now I can see the familiar silhouettes of my bedroom from my computer to my various collectibles. Two identical vaguely human shaped beings loomed over my bed, clearly they were the reaper and the anomaly. More than anything though, I knew that I had to complete the task given to me. I can ponder the implications later, now I have to kill.
I began my task by inquiring about the rules of the situation and what tools I had available to me. The reaper offered me everything in the world but no advice on how to use it.
"You may use anything you want. There are no rules to follow. You only have a goal."
I turned my attention to the anomaly and began to drill it for questions, it was much more forthcoming with information than the reaper. In fact, it enjoyed every moment of explaining itself.
"You see, on some far off planet I have ascended into the realm of dreams and thought, I was once millions, or was it billions? Or maybe I was just a dozen people? Through a mixture of material knowledge and spiritual contemplation I have become a cosmic equal to this reaper and it despises me for it. We are both immortal, even though he refuses to admit it, so making him accept our position of equality is simply the matter of exhausting every conceivable option until the reaper must admit its defeat. I have been shot and starved long before I could even ascend to eternal life, just to name a few suggestions that didn't work. Feel free to take as many tries as you would like, you and I have all the time in the world to crush the reaper's patience. Try once, try again and then try as many times as you like! Take all of the tries your mind can create! Trust me, you'll need them."
I felt myself regaining control over my body. At first I managed to muster the energy to devise a strategy, then I muster the energy to blink, then I managed to move my fingers and toes. Finally I managed to speak aloud four simple words.
"I only need one."
The anomaly burst out into an uproarious laughter.
"People like you are exactly why I never want to die. So many interesting and new things to do and eternity isn't enough to do it."
The reaper's voice slices through the laughter with bitter resentment.
"If you wish to give up after one attempt, that is your decision."
I channeled my body and mind to conjure up all the strength I had of any kind and got out of my bed as I pushed aside the silhouettes which melted into the darkness. I turned my computer on and opened up my internet browser. I felt the voices speaking from behind me, they made some comments and remarks about the situation but I ignored the content of their bickering.
My plan commenced as I began to research the history of the planet, followed by the history of life and then the origins of humanity. The anomaly groaned in boredom.
"It's remarkable how all of this information is new to me and yet I could predict anything and everything that happened."
I ignored it as I continued my history lesson on humanity. I made my absolute best effort to focus on everything that would offend and upset the mortal mind. I had the entire breadth of human existence as my weapon and every cruel act was another bullet added to my gun. I made a special effort not to show it anything which may inspire hope. After all, I had a goal in mind. The anomaly became undeniably angry at what I have been doing and began barking for answers.
"Everything you've shown me, everything that has happened to this planet, to your people, I have lived through and worse. In fact, go on and show me worse, start making up stories and I'll pretend they're true. I can't believe how you could turn such a unique approach into some so, so... so..!"
I smiled for the first time as I spoke loudly and clearly.
"Boring?"
The anomaly spat out vitriol in disgust.
"Yes! Boring! Are you seriously telling me that this is the most interesting that the entirety of your history and species has to offer?"
I nodded and and proceeded to set loose every bullet in my gun onto my target.
"Yes it absolutely is. You are entirely correct. Do you know the best part? You get to watch it all again and again and again. Boring ideas like this, boring people like me, boring species like humans, boring planets like Earth, you get to watch us forever and I truly wish you could enjoy the best of it. You've seen it all, now see it again, forever."
An awkward lingering silence hung between us three, two dying lifeforms and one reaper waiting to claim us all. I felt the world return to darkness as my body regained the heavy weight and helplessness at the beginning of the dream. In just a fraction of a slice of a moment, everything was gone.
I woke up the next morning brimming with excitement. I'm usually one for ending trends but the dream I had just experienced felt so real and exciting that I had to tell someone or post somewhere. Maybe I would be one to continue a trend instead of create a new one but I could always hope for better trends tomorrow. My computer was even already on. | What a bunch of fools. They might have conquered space, but no one can conquer death. Not forever, at least. To claim to have done so is nothing more than arrogance.
They claimed that their advanced technology has made them beyond death. It's true that they are extremely durable, resistant, and don't seem to have the need to eat, drink, sleep, or even breathe. However, they aren't immune to pain, boredom, or madness.
It would've been easy to simply tear their soul from their body, just once quick slash of the scythe and it'd be over. But that wasn't the point. I wanted them to acknowledge and fully understand the folly of trying to be immortal, and the importance of death.
Perhaps it was an overstep of my boundaries to help the humans. To show them how these "Immortal" beings functioned. Perhaps it was a mistake to help them create that paralysis drug. I didn't care.
Watching them beg for death as their bodies failed them, but made it impossible for them to die. I almost felt pity for them, as they fled the earth. But, they had to be taught this lesson, no matter how painful it was. I followed them back of course, just to make sure.
As expected, they started working on fixing these "flaws" as they saw them as soon as they returned to their home planet. It didn't matter, for the ultimate flaw soon became clear.
Any children they had were soulless husk. They spent ages trying to figure out why, abandoning any previous study, until it finally dawned upon them. In selfishly clinging to their own souls, they prevent any of it from being passed on to their children.
They then set about doing everything in their power to become mortal again. | |
[WP] An immortal alien race invades Earth, and arrogantly claims that we cannot, in anyway, shape, or form, kill them whatsoever. Death took that insult rather personal, and being bored as it is, decides to take it as a challenge to the extreme. | I had many names throughout history, Morrigan, Hel, Anubis, Shinigami, Carun, now I'm known as Death.
I was here at the beginning and I'll be here till the end.
Gea gave me birth and trusted me with a Scyte, the Scyte that drew blood from Urano.
She said :"Go, go and kill my children, so that no one may be able to act like a God without expecting punishment"
And that's what I've done for millions and millions of years.
They came one night, booming and loud, on they're flying saucer from which a voice came out.
:"Humans, we come here to conquer, but don't worry, no need to fight. We're simply immortal and to you we shall be gods. We are superior to you, in any possible way. But to make sure you understand we'll kill two billions of you to put you right in your place."
The Aliens said :'We simply can't be killed with no weapon at all:"
And Death thought :"That's what Balder said let's see if it's true"
The Reaper didn't like this arrogant beings, they believed to be Gods, immortal and strong.
But you don't cheat Death from his job, if you care for your soul.
The Reaper flew and in a blink of an eye, he landed near the ships where the aliens arrived. He took out his Scyte and began his work, reaping the aliens and taking their souls. They screamed they screeched but to no avail.
For them Death was new, and it sure wasn't fair.
When the last alien was gone and the last ship destroyed,
the Reaper got up and promptly deployed.
Since there was no heaven or hell for those strangely green souls, Death ate them with pleasure and some strong Chardingnon. | What a bunch of fools. They might have conquered space, but no one can conquer death. Not forever, at least. To claim to have done so is nothing more than arrogance.
They claimed that their advanced technology has made them beyond death. It's true that they are extremely durable, resistant, and don't seem to have the need to eat, drink, sleep, or even breathe. However, they aren't immune to pain, boredom, or madness.
It would've been easy to simply tear their soul from their body, just once quick slash of the scythe and it'd be over. But that wasn't the point. I wanted them to acknowledge and fully understand the folly of trying to be immortal, and the importance of death.
Perhaps it was an overstep of my boundaries to help the humans. To show them how these "Immortal" beings functioned. Perhaps it was a mistake to help them create that paralysis drug. I didn't care.
Watching them beg for death as their bodies failed them, but made it impossible for them to die. I almost felt pity for them, as they fled the earth. But, they had to be taught this lesson, no matter how painful it was. I followed them back of course, just to make sure.
As expected, they started working on fixing these "flaws" as they saw them as soon as they returned to their home planet. It didn't matter, for the ultimate flaw soon became clear.
Any children they had were soulless husk. They spent ages trying to figure out why, abandoning any previous study, until it finally dawned upon them. In selfishly clinging to their own souls, they prevent any of it from being passed on to their children.
They then set about doing everything in their power to become mortal again. | |
[WP] An immortal alien race invades Earth, and arrogantly claims that we cannot, in anyway, shape, or form, kill them whatsoever. Death took that insult rather personal, and being bored as it is, decides to take it as a challenge to the extreme. | I had many names throughout history, Morrigan, Hel, Anubis, Shinigami, Carun, now I'm known as Death.
I was here at the beginning and I'll be here till the end.
Gea gave me birth and trusted me with a Scyte, the Scyte that drew blood from Urano.
She said :"Go, go and kill my children, so that no one may be able to act like a God without expecting punishment"
And that's what I've done for millions and millions of years.
They came one night, booming and loud, on they're flying saucer from which a voice came out.
:"Humans, we come here to conquer, but don't worry, no need to fight. We're simply immortal and to you we shall be gods. We are superior to you, in any possible way. But to make sure you understand we'll kill two billions of you to put you right in your place."
The Aliens said :'We simply can't be killed with no weapon at all:"
And Death thought :"That's what Balder said let's see if it's true"
The Reaper didn't like this arrogant beings, they believed to be Gods, immortal and strong.
But you don't cheat Death from his job, if you care for your soul.
The Reaper flew and in a blink of an eye, he landed near the ships where the aliens arrived. He took out his Scyte and began his work, reaping the aliens and taking their souls. They screamed they screeched but to no avail.
For them Death was new, and it sure wasn't fair.
When the last alien was gone and the last ship destroyed,
the Reaper got up and promptly deployed.
Since there was no heaven or hell for those strangely green souls, Death ate them with pleasure and some strong Chardingnon. | It was the year 2020 and I was stuck indoors. I would like to say I had some aversion to leaving my home but truthfully I'm perfectly fine with observing the world through the internet with all of the safety and comfort that comes with staying at home. While I spent most of my time scrolling through content I enjoy reading like anime or games I do occasionally browse the news if I need to reaffirm my reasons for staying indoors.
Lately there's been a series of internet horror stories of people dying in their sleep through various means; a woman shot with no gun to be found, a man starved despite eating the night before, a boy aged to death overnight. While this trend of stories seemed entertaining at first, they quickly grew repetitive and it began feeling like people were just posting the same story with minor variations. All trends die, so I went to bed and hoped for better trends tomorrow.
It was on the night of November 13th that I had that dream, sometimes I was lucky enough to lucid dream on my own but that time my dream felt more real than my everyday life. It began with darkness and a voice, serene and pleasant.
"Greetings, we are here to play a little fun game."
Before I could respond or even muster a thought, another voice cuts through my mind like a knife, this one dark and stern.
"Don't waste our time with greetings, let me hurry the introduction."
I noticed a gap in the conversation between the two voices so I tried to speak but I couldn't feel my mouth move. I tried my best to produce a sentence in my mind but the presence of the two voices was so loud and overbearing that I could not even be left alone with a thought while the dark voice began its explanation.
"I am the cosmic embodiment of death, the reaper of all things, the very concept of the end, the omega and the inevitable fate of all things which exist."
I heard a light chuckle from the corner of my mind, which corner I wasn't sure.
"Or you were, until I came along."
The reaper continued its explanation, this time more irritated than before.
"That other voice you are hearing? That is an anomaly, an abomination, a blasphemy on the natural order of the universe. It cannot die and I cannot allow that. I have a simple task for you: kill it for me."
Naturally I had more questions that my mind could process and for once in my dream I was given the time to properly think: Is this real? How much of it is real? How does something in this universe avoid dying? Why does this reaper want this anomaly to die? Should I obey the reaper? Should I try to save the anomaly? Should I just try to wake up and write about this dream? My mind was a tornado in a library; thoughts and ideas flew about in chaotic abandon, by complete random chance one particular thought crossed my mind:
"Why me? Why, out of the billions of people on Earth, why choose me? What makes me so unique and special?"
I didn't even realize I said that thought out loud before the anomaly gave me a patient explanation.
"You weren't the first person we asked to do this for us and I can tell you with absolute certainty that you will not be the last."
I had no choice but to accept.
The world around me began to materialize slightly, before I couldn't even see darkness but now I can see the familiar silhouettes of my bedroom from my computer to my various collectibles. Two identical vaguely human shaped beings loomed over my bed, clearly they were the reaper and the anomaly. More than anything though, I knew that I had to complete the task given to me. I can ponder the implications later, now I have to kill.
I began my task by inquiring about the rules of the situation and what tools I had available to me. The reaper offered me everything in the world but no advice on how to use it.
"You may use anything you want. There are no rules to follow. You only have a goal."
I turned my attention to the anomaly and began to drill it for questions, it was much more forthcoming with information than the reaper. In fact, it enjoyed every moment of explaining itself.
"You see, on some far off planet I have ascended into the realm of dreams and thought, I was once millions, or was it billions? Or maybe I was just a dozen people? Through a mixture of material knowledge and spiritual contemplation I have become a cosmic equal to this reaper and it despises me for it. We are both immortal, even though he refuses to admit it, so making him accept our position of equality is simply the matter of exhausting every conceivable option until the reaper must admit its defeat. I have been shot and starved long before I could even ascend to eternal life, just to name a few suggestions that didn't work. Feel free to take as many tries as you would like, you and I have all the time in the world to crush the reaper's patience. Try once, try again and then try as many times as you like! Take all of the tries your mind can create! Trust me, you'll need them."
I felt myself regaining control over my body. At first I managed to muster the energy to devise a strategy, then I muster the energy to blink, then I managed to move my fingers and toes. Finally I managed to speak aloud four simple words.
"I only need one."
The anomaly burst out into an uproarious laughter.
"People like you are exactly why I never want to die. So many interesting and new things to do and eternity isn't enough to do it."
The reaper's voice slices through the laughter with bitter resentment.
"If you wish to give up after one attempt, that is your decision."
I channeled my body and mind to conjure up all the strength I had of any kind and got out of my bed as I pushed aside the silhouettes which melted into the darkness. I turned my computer on and opened up my internet browser. I felt the voices speaking from behind me, they made some comments and remarks about the situation but I ignored the content of their bickering.
My plan commenced as I began to research the history of the planet, followed by the history of life and then the origins of humanity. The anomaly groaned in boredom.
"It's remarkable how all of this information is new to me and yet I could predict anything and everything that happened."
I ignored it as I continued my history lesson on humanity. I made my absolute best effort to focus on everything that would offend and upset the mortal mind. I had the entire breadth of human existence as my weapon and every cruel act was another bullet added to my gun. I made a special effort not to show it anything which may inspire hope. After all, I had a goal in mind. The anomaly became undeniably angry at what I have been doing and began barking for answers.
"Everything you've shown me, everything that has happened to this planet, to your people, I have lived through and worse. In fact, go on and show me worse, start making up stories and I'll pretend they're true. I can't believe how you could turn such a unique approach into some so, so... so..!"
I smiled for the first time as I spoke loudly and clearly.
"Boring?"
The anomaly spat out vitriol in disgust.
"Yes! Boring! Are you seriously telling me that this is the most interesting that the entirety of your history and species has to offer?"
I nodded and and proceeded to set loose every bullet in my gun onto my target.
"Yes it absolutely is. You are entirely correct. Do you know the best part? You get to watch it all again and again and again. Boring ideas like this, boring people like me, boring species like humans, boring planets like Earth, you get to watch us forever and I truly wish you could enjoy the best of it. You've seen it all, now see it again, forever."
An awkward lingering silence hung between us three, two dying lifeforms and one reaper waiting to claim us all. I felt the world return to darkness as my body regained the heavy weight and helplessness at the beginning of the dream. In just a fraction of a slice of a moment, everything was gone.
I woke up the next morning brimming with excitement. I'm usually one for ending trends but the dream I had just experienced felt so real and exciting that I had to tell someone or post somewhere. Maybe I would be one to continue a trend instead of create a new one but I could always hope for better trends tomorrow. My computer was even already on. | |
[WP] An immortal alien race invades Earth, and arrogantly claims that we cannot, in anyway, shape, or form, kill them whatsoever. Death took that insult rather personal, and being bored as it is, decides to take it as a challenge to the extreme. | The aliens touched down, their advanced technology allowing their spacecrafts to do so with nary a sound. Their ships opened -- each door a seamless integration into the hull of their sleek, metallic ship -- and out stepped creatures of which we had no recognition.
Ceaseless forms that flowed as if ever-changing water floated from the dark confines of their ships. The only thing keeping the formless blobs together were what could only be assumed as jumpsuits. They were silver and shiny, and only barely kept some hint of shape on the creatures.
New York City watched as the creatures came off their ship. Times Square, the point of first contact, and all the people in it parted for their entry.
One creature near the front shifted. Its body shuddered erratically for a few seconds before squeezing into a facsimile of a human body. It had the shape and mold, but its skin was still the flowing clear liquid of the aliens.
Tracy watched as it stepped forward. The alien turned its eyes, or what it tried to pass as eyes, towards him, and sent a gentle, watery smile at him.
That it was a bastardized human smile made it all the worse.
"You," it said. Its English was superb. It was disturbing, hearing human voice and language from something that was so obviously not. "Are you a paragon of your kind?"
Tracy looked around himself. The other people in the square were looking at him now, each just as confused as he was. He turned back towards the aliens and swallowed his fear.
"No," he said. "But I am as human as any other. Greetings, travelers. I am--"
The alien raised its hand. Or, whatever could be considered a hand. Its silver casing had turned into a sort of onesie, and moved with it.
"I care not," it said. It was still looking at him, but Tracy could tell that its focus wasn't on him. "Your broadcasting systems. Do they record me?"
Tracy looked around. People already had their phones out, and he was sure that almost all of them were either streaming or recording what was happening. He nodded.
"Excellent," it said. A smile, as wrong as could be, appeared on its face. "Then I have a message for your puny world.
The creature turned, and its amorphous friends turned with it. It looked around, taking a special care to toss a glance at every person surrounding it, before speaking again.
"I have a message for you all, you creatures of Terra!" it yelled. Its voice, while passable when it was speaking normally, echoed with a robotic twang as it spoke up. "My people and I have come from a star far beyond your own, and we are here with a challenge. If you can kill any one of us by any means, we will leave you and your tiny star system and never return."
The people in Times Square started their murmurs. Tracy's eyes hardened. He did not like where this was going.
"If you cannot," the creature said. A wicked smile came to the creature's face, and for the first time since it took that form, Tracy thought it looked genuine. "Then we will invade. We will wipe you and your kind from this world and take it as our own."
The murmuring of the crowd only grew, and Tracy's brow furrowed as an unpleasant feeling rose in his stomach.
"Be warned, however," the creature said. Its smile was inhuman now, stretching from one side of its flowing face all the way to the other, bisecting it with rows of constantly shifting teeth. "That we are immortal. We have bested Death and have chosen to live forever. You couldn't kill us even if you wiped our physical forms from this plane. We would just return."
Tracy watched as the alien posed in what could only be a triumphant matter. Its friends oscillated wildly behind him, looking like mutated bubbles.
The crowd went silent. Whispers and murmurs ceased for all of ten seconds.
Then laughter. Laughter found its way through the ranks. Humans doubled over in hysteria as they pointed at the creatures and broke down.
The alien, or at least the transformed one, looked confused. It turned back to Tracy, its confused evident in the wavering of its almost perfect human form.
"You, non-paragon human," it said. "I don't understand. What is the meaning of your mirth?"
Tracy didn't respond. He continued his laughter, having to resort to putting his hands on his knees to keep himself up. When the immortal asked his question a second time, it received the same treatment. Fed up with the ridicule, the creature paced over to him. Its feet didn't actually touch the ground, no, it merely floated while pretending to walk, but it made it there. It reached out a bulging hand to force Tracy to look at him.
The creature was amazed when Tracy grabbed him instead.
"Okay, creature," Tracy said, mirth still lacing his words. "You have done your research on his. This much is true. You have our words and our language and our forms. Good job."
The creature stared at Tracy, before pulling at his "arm." For some reason, it could not shift its body out of Tracy's grip.
"But it appears that you have made some miscalculations," Tracy continued. "Were you of the mind that you were immortal? That some technology of yours had put you beyond the scope of death?"
The aliens behind the one that Tracy was holding quivered as an inhuman screech came from their comrade. The translucent liquid of the transformed creature started to blacken, before fading into dust. It started from the point of contact with the human, before moving up its arm.
Tracy shook his head. When the creature tried to move, he grabbed it by its shoulders. They, too, started to blacken.
"Nothing escapes death, alien," Tracy said. "I am not a paragon of my kind, but you don't need to be one to understand that. Every person in my world understands death from the moment we are born. We fight and we bleed and we kill our kind all the time. We make art of it. We make *sport* of it."
The creature wailed as its body decomposed. This wasn't a sensation that it was used to it seemed.
"Unlike you, we have learned to live with it. Do you hear that? We *live* with it. We die from the moment we are born. One could even say that it is a part of us."
Tracy watched as the alien that spoke had turned to dust, much faster than he could finish his speech. He turned to the other ones, who now stood cowering near their ship. The wicked smile that formed on their now dead friend's face fit rather nicely on his own.
"No," Tracy said. "You ignorant fools, you haven't escaped Death. No one can. It has simply been too preoccupied with us to care much for you. We, the children of Death's attention, have garnered all of his love. But, now that you have so graciously shown yourselves before us..."
Tracy spit. He walked slowly towards the creatures as they cowered.
"... it seems that we can give some love to you." | The various methods of pain Death unveiled to inflict harm on the immortal alien made the most vile humans shudder. He tried beating him with bats, Chinese stars, small guns, big guns, artillery guns. In disgust Death once threw bullets at him.
Death tried crushing him with blocks, buildings, tanks, and hydraulic presses. Death made him eat all types of pollution. Starved him. Slapped him. Flayed him. Spit on him. He even made him watch, from start to finish, the entire Titanic movie.
The alien always smiled at him.
"If I can't kill you, I'll make your body a shell. Devoid of joy. Without hope. You will no longer wish for anything except for your long and painful death."
The devil was now into plan C.
Plan A was to kill him quickly. It didn't work
Plan B was to kill him slowly. That didn't work either.
Plan C hadn't quite formed yet. He was hoping it would create itself as he began to speak.
"I'm going to give you what you want. A rest."
The alien's smile grew.
"I'm going to give you a warm, fluffy bed." Death continued.
"Yes!"
A quick stacatto reply from the alien! This was the first time the alien ever spoke. Death knew he was onto something.
"I'm going to make it very cold outside the bed. So cold you'll have to put on a large comforter. A big heavy down comforter."
"Yes! Yes!" The alien grew energetic.
"You are going to get into that bed and you will be so, so warm. So warm with the comforter you'll love your life."
"Yes! Yes! Yes!"
"I'm going to make this bed a king bed. One with ample room in it to sleep."
"Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!"
"And I'm going to give you two women to lay next to you. Beautiful women."
"Hell yes!"
"They will desire to touch you. They will never have seen an immortal before. One so warm and comfortable in his bed."
"YES!"
"Their hands and feet will need to be on you."
At this the alien closed his eyes and began to imagine the luxury.
"Their hands will be the temperature of the Arctic. Their feet like winter wind across the Great Lakes"
"Whaaa?"
"The hands and feet will suck the heat from your body. It won't matter how warm you are. Their hands and feet will be so damn cold, every ounce of your heat will disappear."
"Actually," the alien began, "I'm not really immortal. You just need to rub some garlic on my head and I'll die in a flash."
"Thank you." Death turned to walk to the kitchen. | |
[WP] An immortal alien race invades Earth, and arrogantly claims that we cannot, in anyway, shape, or form, kill them whatsoever. Death took that insult rather personal, and being bored as it is, decides to take it as a challenge to the extreme. | The aliens touched down, their advanced technology allowing their spacecrafts to do so with nary a sound. Their ships opened -- each door a seamless integration into the hull of their sleek, metallic ship -- and out stepped creatures of which we had no recognition.
Ceaseless forms that flowed as if ever-changing water floated from the dark confines of their ships. The only thing keeping the formless blobs together were what could only be assumed as jumpsuits. They were silver and shiny, and only barely kept some hint of shape on the creatures.
New York City watched as the creatures came off their ship. Times Square, the point of first contact, and all the people in it parted for their entry.
One creature near the front shifted. Its body shuddered erratically for a few seconds before squeezing into a facsimile of a human body. It had the shape and mold, but its skin was still the flowing clear liquid of the aliens.
Tracy watched as it stepped forward. The alien turned its eyes, or what it tried to pass as eyes, towards him, and sent a gentle, watery smile at him.
That it was a bastardized human smile made it all the worse.
"You," it said. Its English was superb. It was disturbing, hearing human voice and language from something that was so obviously not. "Are you a paragon of your kind?"
Tracy looked around himself. The other people in the square were looking at him now, each just as confused as he was. He turned back towards the aliens and swallowed his fear.
"No," he said. "But I am as human as any other. Greetings, travelers. I am--"
The alien raised its hand. Or, whatever could be considered a hand. Its silver casing had turned into a sort of onesie, and moved with it.
"I care not," it said. It was still looking at him, but Tracy could tell that its focus wasn't on him. "Your broadcasting systems. Do they record me?"
Tracy looked around. People already had their phones out, and he was sure that almost all of them were either streaming or recording what was happening. He nodded.
"Excellent," it said. A smile, as wrong as could be, appeared on its face. "Then I have a message for your puny world.
The creature turned, and its amorphous friends turned with it. It looked around, taking a special care to toss a glance at every person surrounding it, before speaking again.
"I have a message for you all, you creatures of Terra!" it yelled. Its voice, while passable when it was speaking normally, echoed with a robotic twang as it spoke up. "My people and I have come from a star far beyond your own, and we are here with a challenge. If you can kill any one of us by any means, we will leave you and your tiny star system and never return."
The people in Times Square started their murmurs. Tracy's eyes hardened. He did not like where this was going.
"If you cannot," the creature said. A wicked smile came to the creature's face, and for the first time since it took that form, Tracy thought it looked genuine. "Then we will invade. We will wipe you and your kind from this world and take it as our own."
The murmuring of the crowd only grew, and Tracy's brow furrowed as an unpleasant feeling rose in his stomach.
"Be warned, however," the creature said. Its smile was inhuman now, stretching from one side of its flowing face all the way to the other, bisecting it with rows of constantly shifting teeth. "That we are immortal. We have bested Death and have chosen to live forever. You couldn't kill us even if you wiped our physical forms from this plane. We would just return."
Tracy watched as the alien posed in what could only be a triumphant matter. Its friends oscillated wildly behind him, looking like mutated bubbles.
The crowd went silent. Whispers and murmurs ceased for all of ten seconds.
Then laughter. Laughter found its way through the ranks. Humans doubled over in hysteria as they pointed at the creatures and broke down.
The alien, or at least the transformed one, looked confused. It turned back to Tracy, its confused evident in the wavering of its almost perfect human form.
"You, non-paragon human," it said. "I don't understand. What is the meaning of your mirth?"
Tracy didn't respond. He continued his laughter, having to resort to putting his hands on his knees to keep himself up. When the immortal asked his question a second time, it received the same treatment. Fed up with the ridicule, the creature paced over to him. Its feet didn't actually touch the ground, no, it merely floated while pretending to walk, but it made it there. It reached out a bulging hand to force Tracy to look at him.
The creature was amazed when Tracy grabbed him instead.
"Okay, creature," Tracy said, mirth still lacing his words. "You have done your research on his. This much is true. You have our words and our language and our forms. Good job."
The creature stared at Tracy, before pulling at his "arm." For some reason, it could not shift its body out of Tracy's grip.
"But it appears that you have made some miscalculations," Tracy continued. "Were you of the mind that you were immortal? That some technology of yours had put you beyond the scope of death?"
The aliens behind the one that Tracy was holding quivered as an inhuman screech came from their comrade. The translucent liquid of the transformed creature started to blacken, before fading into dust. It started from the point of contact with the human, before moving up its arm.
Tracy shook his head. When the creature tried to move, he grabbed it by its shoulders. They, too, started to blacken.
"Nothing escapes death, alien," Tracy said. "I am not a paragon of my kind, but you don't need to be one to understand that. Every person in my world understands death from the moment we are born. We fight and we bleed and we kill our kind all the time. We make art of it. We make *sport* of it."
The creature wailed as its body decomposed. This wasn't a sensation that it was used to it seemed.
"Unlike you, we have learned to live with it. Do you hear that? We *live* with it. We die from the moment we are born. One could even say that it is a part of us."
Tracy watched as the alien that spoke had turned to dust, much faster than he could finish his speech. He turned to the other ones, who now stood cowering near their ship. The wicked smile that formed on their now dead friend's face fit rather nicely on his own.
"No," Tracy said. "You ignorant fools, you haven't escaped Death. No one can. It has simply been too preoccupied with us to care much for you. We, the children of Death's attention, have garnered all of his love. But, now that you have so graciously shown yourselves before us..."
Tracy spit. He walked slowly towards the creatures as they cowered.
"... it seems that we can give some love to you." | The realm with which I reside is in between the living and dead, a static state where I neither feel alive, nor can I die. Gatekeeper is my true title but over time it's been forgotten and changed many times by different cultures, the only one of which I have grown fond of, being the Reaper. This title came to embody my purpose better than humans knew.
Admittedly the realm of humans grew to bore me. Life and even my existence was to guard a revolt, not of the mind, but the spirit of man. Meant to take the soul of man on a cycle to awaken them. Instead they guarded their fears and doubts with dogma; falling on religion as a crutch, never daring to near the crux. They conquered their world with creature comforts and gave up on the eternal effort. In effect most humans came to accept their mortality, I dare say even, that humans have abandoned their empyrean qualities for the ephemeral; cursed to live life like a dream.
Then came peculiar beings, they rode upon blazing discs and starships that could hold metropolises. These beings were off-worlders, warned of in the many esoteric texts as those who came from heaven in the early days. Indeed they once came but they fled then in terror of a realm where they could not do as they please and now they have come again. A grand excitement boiled and I was overcome with a will play, as I know they must be after Terras gate.
I crept into their metropolises with ease, even their advanced technology could not detect a being this ancient. Gradually I watched how they lived and soon my excitement simmered to disdain and I realized they did not know of the shackles which bind all in this plane, not even their own.
"Captain Arganza, the rotating cycle of deep sleep units must be revised to acclimate with Terran time," a boring woman dressed in a grey uniform stated.
"We'll handle that, but for now focus on creating open channels of contact with all nations. I want to end this whole thing quickly and return to my leisure," the Captain replied lazily.
"But captain, the deep sleep technology is what allows us our longevity. If we neglect this now, I'm afraid we may face trouble in the future," she pushed firmly.
"Bah! Do not forget your place!" Arganza barked back as leaned forward and then nestled back in his seat. "Under my command you will not do as you please Drexxa, now leave before I lose my patience."
With that the female officer left and I followed curious to see what she meant about sleep being so vital to their immortality. She instructed a subordinate to carry out her assigned task while she did as she felt was necessary. Something I am eternally grateful for. They had not gained true immortality, merely they'd modified their bodies to the point that even their flesh was no longer that of mortals. Even to my eye they did not seem strange, but as she led the way I came to see they were wholly constructed by molecular sized machines which contained their souls, but unlike humans even if destroyed in whole they could recapture the soul of an entity as long as enough time has not passed and put them into a new shell which with the information contained within the soul allows them to regain their form all but seamlessly.
Genius, yet also profoundly empty. They were the epitome of the human and yet the ultimate low, as they truly cannot be considered humans. They truly are no longer mortal, but the flaws were evident to me. I began to influence the systems and gradually she would show me more and more how they operated.
After days of meticulously studying and preparing the fun began. As all beings they have flaws; theirs being the need to recharge their bodies in a similar manner to human sleep cycles except they are not sleeping. They are instead shielding the soul and putting it in a stasis, then recharging the entities known as nanites. This process can take anywhere from 48-72 hours depending on the level of exhaustion and if the shell is being replaced, this process becomes simpler lowering the time to twenty-four hours at the most.
With the law of Karma and possession methods it wasn't difficult knocking down the first domino; a simultaneous malfunction of all of the sleeping pods. As I said they protected the soul instead of refining it to withstand this kind of assault. This event actually yielded far greater results and echoed their flaws pleasantly in my ear. There were about one-hundred of them who were, to their horror fried down to the nanites as the systems malfunctioned.
"What is happening?" Their leader thundered nervously as he couldn't believe that in one fell swoop he'd lost one-hundred crewman. He felt deep regret but admirably kept a cool head. "Drexxa, give me a status report and figure out how this occurred, I want the origin of this attack. We will raze the meat bags who did this to the ground!"
"Sir..." Drexxa looked at the screen before her dazedly as she realized she'd been locked out of the system indefinitely. She also knew that no Terran could have possibly done this and looked back awkwardly. "Sir, I am certain this couldn't have been a Terran. It seems our systems have been sabotaged from within! We have apprehended the suspect but he maintains the position of having no memory of this and all our scans indicate that he is not lying."
"Balderdash!" The Captain finally lost his calm and collected demeanor and slammed his fist down on the terminal.
The game was going well and they were soon lost in what we call a Dark Forest. Neither knowing what is before them or behind them, only that they need to survive. Hunger was not their bane. Strife was not. It was not infighting due to the unexplainable actions of countless crew mates. Quite simply they needed, "sleep". A sleep that they could have if they were mortal, but now they may share a very similar and certain mortal rest.
The Captain lasted the longest and seeing his bedraggled form I could not help but offer explanation.
"Drexxa?" He asked weakly as he looked up with a weak smile. "It seems you were right. I don't know how but you called it right when you warned me. Now I've lost our flagship and the humans have found a brief respite."
I looked down at him numbly, unsure how to begin, so I just started simply. "I am not Drexxa. Her soul has been devoured by me. Unlike the others she was quite useful. What you see now is a shell which obeys only my command."
A visible tremor ran through Captain Arganza as his eyes constricted and he feebly tried to draw away from me. Easily closing the gap I kneeled down and looked deeply into his metallic silver eyes.
"It is not wise to taunt death. Surely you never saw this coming, but should you incarnate upon this plane who knows maybe you will approach the true gate to mortality, but even then and more so openly I will be your opponent." I stood up and it seemed as if he saw my true form in that moment as terror filled his soul, yet still he gazed up at me with a firmness I could not help but admire. Neither dejected, nor excited. He merely laughed madly as if he had suffered a great injustice.
"We actually encountered the Reaper of this plane, ah of course!" The Captain's silver eyes seemed to flare with delirium, indicating his soul was on it's last legs. "We-we left to regain what we lost..."
"Only to be sorely reminded of it once more," I finished for him I watched the flames of life flicker out and his soul, weak as ever appeared before me.
"I like this one, let us see if you can find me again."
Out of mercy I decided to see to it that he incarnated once more. Maybe his unsubstantial soul can stoke the flame in man once more. | |
[WP] Whenever someone in your town turns 16 they have to meet 'it'. The one who is like a god to the town. This time it's your turn to meet 'it', but it wasn't at all what you expected... | The time has come
Childhood is gone
And I shall meet the One
'It' the thing is called
The obscure leader of our horde
Reverenced as a god
Once we turn sixteen
We join a team
To meet the Thing
We went there at night
To meet the almighty
But something was not right
When I entered its den
It began to rain
And I saw myself alone facing a merman
The creature smiled at me
And started moving beastly
As if it was in the sea
"My name is Dagon
I live since the Age of Iron
When I was the head of the pantheon
But now I'm locked in this prison
Forgotten after my temple destruction
But I hope to leave soon
Because I just found you
The One I've been looking forward to
The messenger of Cthulhu!" | Early Rising was a small town surrounded by acres of dense woodland, not that very much at all thrived within it. You might expect a woodland to be fresh, full of life, a deep green canopy beneath which mischievous creatures went about their daily business, be it foraging or fornicating. This woodland, however, was a vast expanse of bent and broken, limbless bark-built giants, home to the abominations those beyond the cliffs discarded, a pit risen from the ground and lightly dusted in that red and sticky stuff that leaks from men and women when their fleshly coverings are cut. A truly despicable place that few ever ventured into willingly.
Unwillingly? That would account for any within Early Rising that were *un*lucky enough to meet their sweet sixteenth. A right of passage, a barbaric ritual passed down from generations and upheld by those in power who had gone through it themselves - *and so it's only right that those who come after us suffer all the same as we did.*
A simple task, scout the woodlands for *its* burrow, take a leap of faith, fall down before *its* knees and pledge allegiance to the Early Rising, give yourself over to that which calls itself their God. Refuse? The Ministers of the Early Rising will relieve you of that suffocating flesh-covering called skin, they'll blind you, break your legs, and yet you will not die. You'll become one of those so aptly named *abominations -* an outcast not born beyond the bordering of tall white cliffs, but born within. An example made, a message sent.
There is another means to failure, for to meet with *it* does not alone ensure your right to go on breathing that air which the Early Rising promise isn't harmful in itself - *so why the masks? The coverings? Another outdated tradition? Or another telling tale of their lies?*
Meet with *it* and pledge allegiance, only you must mean it, for *it* will know if you don't, and though *it* doesn't feed on skin quite like the townsfolk of the Early Rising do, it will surely take your heart still beating from your chest. *A toy, and nothing more,* it *collects hearts just like teapots, or spoons perhaps, a hobby, harmless, honestly.*
Truth be told very few see fit to bare children to the Early Rising, and those that do often find themselves unable - *can't be the air that makes them baron, no need for masks.* In recent decades past only half a dozen have been born, all seedlings of a Minster, most inadvertently.
And now it comes to Jack, she turns sixteen in eight short hours. Her father - *her real father, not that spineless white-wheel-worker she calls dad -* Minster Yolkely - is preparing her for what's to come, preparing her for *it.*
*--* // --
"You don't have a choice, Jack, not really. I'm sure you don't relish the idea of being skinned alive - as appetising as Curled Cobs might sound. Cliché, I'm aware, but think of your mother." a chuckle escapes the Minster's throat, casting a dry echo through the hollow tubes that make his mask; a spider-like design with tentacles for legs, each one attached to it's own filter, some hanging from the Minster's shoulders, most sewn into the pockets of his suit.
*Eleven.* Jack realises, counting how many filters the Minster now has, each one earned through some *courageous* act undertaken in the name of the Early Rising. *At least four of them were earned through blood, the murder of child not fit enough to serve the town, to serve the people.* A sickening thought, that the only reason Jack had been allowed to live was that her limbs and lungs worked within the legal limits deemed acceptable by their *so-great society.*
"Your mother?" the Minster's voice was a quiet whisper, hissing through the pipes that decorated what might have been his face. Yet it was all encompassing, commanding despite it's volume, as if spoken throughout the speakers that clung to every corner of Jack's home.
Barely visible behind the Minster's thick, pin-stripped cloak, two figures cast in shadow. A woman and *half-a-man.* Jack's parents. At least that's what they'd told her, for if truly this Minster *was* her father, then could the woman bound and blindfolded behind him not be an imposter in her own right?
"I'll go." Jack said, finally, followed by deep sighing from her *parents.* They were relieved, of course, had she chosen otherwise it would not be her alone who lost her skin. "Not for them, not for you..."
"It doesn't matter, girl. Whatever self righteous reason you've adopted for this journey, *it* will take that from you, too." face to face with Jack, her reflection so clear in the mirrored glass panels of his mask's eyelets, the Minster tapped the heel of his foot three times against the boards of the floor.
Jack closed her eyes.
"Open them." a sly hissing in her ear.
As she did a single shot flew through the far side window of their home, glass shattering before her parent's feet, a ball of lead embedded in her mother's skull.
"You may choose to disbelieve me, but she was, and I am." the Minster shrugged the words away, "No matter, two father's in such a day and age is far from a thing to cry over." a gloved hand raised to Jack's cheek, a tear swept from its resting place, "Don't let me down."
Jack nodded, silent, her eyes fixed on her own reflection, whatever *it* was, she would be the end of *it*, and the end of Yolkely, too. That much she'd decided on, that much would be her own *self righteous reason*.
\-- // --
To any that have taken the time to read this, I hope you enjoyed it, and if you would like to see more, let me know! I'll be picking up writing again and adding shorts to my sub: r/talesofallure | |
[WP] Whenever someone in your town turns 16 they have to meet 'it'. The one who is like a god to the town. This time it's your turn to meet 'it', but it wasn't at all what you expected... | My sister was sixteen once, and she was never the same after that.
Before going to The Cave she promised to tell me what "it" is. She never did. Nobody ever does, ever. I was very disappointed, she would always tell me everything and I would do the same. After that our relationship didn't quite work out, she went abroad to study, like everyone. After sixteen nobody stays, they all go far away from the village. But they always come back when they have children, everyone of them.
In our school, talking about it is worse than shitting on a desk, once someone tried and we didn't see him for a whole month. When he came back he was very pale and had lost a lot of weight. Each time we asked him, he would cry silently.
Every few weeks someone turns sixteen. To "celebrate" this occasion there's a ceremony. There are cakes, decorations, and all sorts of drinks. It is very colourful and cheery but nobody smiles. Sometimes you can hear the parents weeping. Today I can hear my father crying.
It is my birthday and I'm terrified.
The villagers follow me with their rainbow flags until we are three meters away from The Cave. Then come the farewells, hugs, kisses, sad eyes, tears. There is even a boy who tells me he loves me, I would have never guessed he was gay. I try to stick to this thought, the thought of unexpected love. I hope a miracle can happen twice in a row.
The bells ring midday, it istime to go. Behind me I can hear them running away. I am alone, in the wild forest, and I need to go in a cave. I dread to take the first step, then I hear a lullaby. Not any lullaby, the French one everyone sings at the village: *il était un petit navire.*
If it is supposed to calm me down it completely failed. My parents used to sing it to me every time I went to bed, now the meaning was truly horrid. If my parents were so afraid of this day, how sick it is they were singing the creature’s lure?
As it is the village’s song, if I come back I'll have no one to turn to. Everyone past sixteen is an accomplice to "it" even if you are against your own children. It is utterly mad. I am even more alone than I thought.
Am I going to get mad? Does "it" brainwash us when we meet?
With a heavy heart I walk towards the dark entrance. A few minutes in, I see glowing light in the far distance. When I get closer I realise the lights are fluorescent mushrooms. Suddenly the cave looks warm and comforting. My muscles relax, my eyes fill with wonder, and my heartbeat slows. Then I see fireflies glowing and floating. Suddenly far away somebody snaps their fingers, and all the fireflies line up in a military manner. I am so stunned I follow them without thinking.
They stop to what seemed to be the end of the cave. I wait for a second and a blinding light comes shining just in front of me. It is so bright that I can't see for a moment. Slowly I’m able to adjust my sight and see her.
" Lucie" she says.
I am baffled she can speak, mostly because she doesn’t have a mouth. She doesn't quite look human either. You can’t miss her with her enormous white eyes and four arms. And she can float and glow. And her hair continues to grow, spreading to the floor and the ceiling.
"Lucie" she repeats.
"I'm sorry, what?" I answer feeling lost.
" That's my name " she says with a chuckle " I'm the creature of the cave, I'm "it" and I'm going to help you find the perfect career" she said with a French accent.
" I'm sorry, you are a creature living in a cave that terrifies a whole village and you are a career counsellor? And you are French?" I ask even more confused.
" Yes that kind of sums it up" she answers with a slight nod. " Long ago I was brought here from Paris by my father. He wanted me safe, but mostly out of the way. I'm abnormal and not suited for a noble life. So I lived here alone, slowing discovering my powers. I can fly, glow, make things glow, but most importantly I'm an immortal career counsellor. And a really good one." she says proudly.
" How can you be immortal?" I ask while slowly digesting the information given, *it does* *explain the mushrooms.*
" Oh, well every time I eat a firefly I gain a year to live" she declares bluntly. And then with her third arm she grabs a firefly and squashes it aggressively against her chest. The firefly is absorbed and she glows a bit brighter.
She is weird, but not scary. I am reassured so I ask " I'm sorry, you said you were a career advisor, so what would you advise?".
After that, we talk for hours. To be honest it is awesome. I wonder why people were so terrified. We finally find the perfect career and I know exactly how I am going to do it, starting by tomorrow. I’m filled with joy and then she tells me the conditions.
" You mustn't tell anyone. If you do I will not only stop helping you along the way but I will make sure your life is a disaster. And if you have children you must bring them up in the village until they meet me or I'll make sure their lives turn into a bitter and dark hell" she says slowly staring into my eyes, " Okay! Off you pop now, you have a whole wonderful life waiting for you!" she adds with a mouthless smile.
I get out of the cave with mixed feelings. My life could be grand or dreadful. I can’t make a single mistake. I will do what I have been told. Beginning by booking a trip to Spain... | Early Rising was a small town surrounded by acres of dense woodland, not that very much at all thrived within it. You might expect a woodland to be fresh, full of life, a deep green canopy beneath which mischievous creatures went about their daily business, be it foraging or fornicating. This woodland, however, was a vast expanse of bent and broken, limbless bark-built giants, home to the abominations those beyond the cliffs discarded, a pit risen from the ground and lightly dusted in that red and sticky stuff that leaks from men and women when their fleshly coverings are cut. A truly despicable place that few ever ventured into willingly.
Unwillingly? That would account for any within Early Rising that were *un*lucky enough to meet their sweet sixteenth. A right of passage, a barbaric ritual passed down from generations and upheld by those in power who had gone through it themselves - *and so it's only right that those who come after us suffer all the same as we did.*
A simple task, scout the woodlands for *its* burrow, take a leap of faith, fall down before *its* knees and pledge allegiance to the Early Rising, give yourself over to that which calls itself their God. Refuse? The Ministers of the Early Rising will relieve you of that suffocating flesh-covering called skin, they'll blind you, break your legs, and yet you will not die. You'll become one of those so aptly named *abominations -* an outcast not born beyond the bordering of tall white cliffs, but born within. An example made, a message sent.
There is another means to failure, for to meet with *it* does not alone ensure your right to go on breathing that air which the Early Rising promise isn't harmful in itself - *so why the masks? The coverings? Another outdated tradition? Or another telling tale of their lies?*
Meet with *it* and pledge allegiance, only you must mean it, for *it* will know if you don't, and though *it* doesn't feed on skin quite like the townsfolk of the Early Rising do, it will surely take your heart still beating from your chest. *A toy, and nothing more,* it *collects hearts just like teapots, or spoons perhaps, a hobby, harmless, honestly.*
Truth be told very few see fit to bare children to the Early Rising, and those that do often find themselves unable - *can't be the air that makes them baron, no need for masks.* In recent decades past only half a dozen have been born, all seedlings of a Minster, most inadvertently.
And now it comes to Jack, she turns sixteen in eight short hours. Her father - *her real father, not that spineless white-wheel-worker she calls dad -* Minster Yolkely - is preparing her for what's to come, preparing her for *it.*
*--* // --
"You don't have a choice, Jack, not really. I'm sure you don't relish the idea of being skinned alive - as appetising as Curled Cobs might sound. Cliché, I'm aware, but think of your mother." a chuckle escapes the Minster's throat, casting a dry echo through the hollow tubes that make his mask; a spider-like design with tentacles for legs, each one attached to it's own filter, some hanging from the Minster's shoulders, most sewn into the pockets of his suit.
*Eleven.* Jack realises, counting how many filters the Minster now has, each one earned through some *courageous* act undertaken in the name of the Early Rising. *At least four of them were earned through blood, the murder of child not fit enough to serve the town, to serve the people.* A sickening thought, that the only reason Jack had been allowed to live was that her limbs and lungs worked within the legal limits deemed acceptable by their *so-great society.*
"Your mother?" the Minster's voice was a quiet whisper, hissing through the pipes that decorated what might have been his face. Yet it was all encompassing, commanding despite it's volume, as if spoken throughout the speakers that clung to every corner of Jack's home.
Barely visible behind the Minster's thick, pin-stripped cloak, two figures cast in shadow. A woman and *half-a-man.* Jack's parents. At least that's what they'd told her, for if truly this Minster *was* her father, then could the woman bound and blindfolded behind him not be an imposter in her own right?
"I'll go." Jack said, finally, followed by deep sighing from her *parents.* They were relieved, of course, had she chosen otherwise it would not be her alone who lost her skin. "Not for them, not for you..."
"It doesn't matter, girl. Whatever self righteous reason you've adopted for this journey, *it* will take that from you, too." face to face with Jack, her reflection so clear in the mirrored glass panels of his mask's eyelets, the Minster tapped the heel of his foot three times against the boards of the floor.
Jack closed her eyes.
"Open them." a sly hissing in her ear.
As she did a single shot flew through the far side window of their home, glass shattering before her parent's feet, a ball of lead embedded in her mother's skull.
"You may choose to disbelieve me, but she was, and I am." the Minster shrugged the words away, "No matter, two father's in such a day and age is far from a thing to cry over." a gloved hand raised to Jack's cheek, a tear swept from its resting place, "Don't let me down."
Jack nodded, silent, her eyes fixed on her own reflection, whatever *it* was, she would be the end of *it*, and the end of Yolkely, too. That much she'd decided on, that much would be her own *self righteous reason*.
\-- // --
To any that have taken the time to read this, I hope you enjoyed it, and if you would like to see more, let me know! I'll be picking up writing again and adding shorts to my sub: r/talesofallure | |
[WP] Whenever someone in your town turns 16 they have to meet 'it'. The one who is like a god to the town. This time it's your turn to meet 'it', but it wasn't at all what you expected... | I stepped forth, into the darkened cave. It was my 16th birthday, and the Aging Ritual was upon me. As tradition, I had to meet The Shadow. The one who lorded over the village, and demanded our respect and servitude, in return for protection and bountiful harvests.
I was worried. No-one spoke of what happened when you approached it. Most returned, pale and silent. And the rest never returned at all. At least, not alive. Their head would be found at the entrance of the cave, neatly severed.
I stepped through the cave, my eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. It extended in and down, and I had to walk without light, away from the sun. The rhythmic drumming from the village faded away as I delved into the earth, the air becoming silent.
After climbing down, any ambient light was gone. The oppressive darkness covered all, and I stumbled along, following the wall with one arm whilst extending the other before me. I was hoping to avoid ramming into stone, as I would not see it coming.
The walk dragged on, and I started picturing just what it would be. Would it be a monster? Maybe something made of bones? Or possibly a spider-like entity? Not that I would see it of course, as it was darker then a starless and moonless night in here.
I stepped forwards, but there was no floor beneath my feet. I fell, tumbling into the abyss. I screamed as I fell, before something caught me. It felt like being embraced in a blanket, but made of silk, and cold.
"Ahhh, the newest tribute."
Its voice echoed from all around me. It sounded far from human, and pleased. Probably pleased to see me.
"You have come to complete the Ritual."
"Y-yes?"
"Excellent."
I could hear a grin in its voice, and I was lowered, finding hard ground beneath me.
"Um.... what are you?"
"A good question, little tribute."
"Thank you?"
It fell silent, and I waited.
"Now, take off your top."
"Um, what?!"
"Bare your chest, tribute."
I hesitated.
"Bare it now, or fail the tradition, and suffer my... displeasure."
I took it off, shivering in the dark and cold. A sharp pain slashed through me, as something cut into my flesh. I could feel it grasp my ribcage, and could feel something carve into the bone. I screamed in pain. It released me, and I dropped, clutching my chest.
"That was only the first half."
More pain flashed, as it cut into my head. It carved into my skull, and the feeling of it moving behind my eyes made me nauseous. It released me again, and I held my head, tears leaking from my eyes.
"All done, little tribute. Now you can finally see me."
I blinked open my eyes. The dark still surrounded me. But as I looked it faded, and I finally saw it. Before me was a crystal, surrounded by thick shadow that was still darkened.
"I am a fragment of the Spark of Creation. You have been bound to me, to keep me hidden from those who would rather use me for ill. Now go. The shadow here will no longer hide your sight. Your elders will tell you more."
It sank into the stone, away from me. I looked down at my chest, to see no sign of the cut it had done. There was no blood either. But the lingering agony remained. I turned to leave, shaken up by the experience, a new shield for The Shadow. | Early Rising was a small town surrounded by acres of dense woodland, not that very much at all thrived within it. You might expect a woodland to be fresh, full of life, a deep green canopy beneath which mischievous creatures went about their daily business, be it foraging or fornicating. This woodland, however, was a vast expanse of bent and broken, limbless bark-built giants, home to the abominations those beyond the cliffs discarded, a pit risen from the ground and lightly dusted in that red and sticky stuff that leaks from men and women when their fleshly coverings are cut. A truly despicable place that few ever ventured into willingly.
Unwillingly? That would account for any within Early Rising that were *un*lucky enough to meet their sweet sixteenth. A right of passage, a barbaric ritual passed down from generations and upheld by those in power who had gone through it themselves - *and so it's only right that those who come after us suffer all the same as we did.*
A simple task, scout the woodlands for *its* burrow, take a leap of faith, fall down before *its* knees and pledge allegiance to the Early Rising, give yourself over to that which calls itself their God. Refuse? The Ministers of the Early Rising will relieve you of that suffocating flesh-covering called skin, they'll blind you, break your legs, and yet you will not die. You'll become one of those so aptly named *abominations -* an outcast not born beyond the bordering of tall white cliffs, but born within. An example made, a message sent.
There is another means to failure, for to meet with *it* does not alone ensure your right to go on breathing that air which the Early Rising promise isn't harmful in itself - *so why the masks? The coverings? Another outdated tradition? Or another telling tale of their lies?*
Meet with *it* and pledge allegiance, only you must mean it, for *it* will know if you don't, and though *it* doesn't feed on skin quite like the townsfolk of the Early Rising do, it will surely take your heart still beating from your chest. *A toy, and nothing more,* it *collects hearts just like teapots, or spoons perhaps, a hobby, harmless, honestly.*
Truth be told very few see fit to bare children to the Early Rising, and those that do often find themselves unable - *can't be the air that makes them baron, no need for masks.* In recent decades past only half a dozen have been born, all seedlings of a Minster, most inadvertently.
And now it comes to Jack, she turns sixteen in eight short hours. Her father - *her real father, not that spineless white-wheel-worker she calls dad -* Minster Yolkely - is preparing her for what's to come, preparing her for *it.*
*--* // --
"You don't have a choice, Jack, not really. I'm sure you don't relish the idea of being skinned alive - as appetising as Curled Cobs might sound. Cliché, I'm aware, but think of your mother." a chuckle escapes the Minster's throat, casting a dry echo through the hollow tubes that make his mask; a spider-like design with tentacles for legs, each one attached to it's own filter, some hanging from the Minster's shoulders, most sewn into the pockets of his suit.
*Eleven.* Jack realises, counting how many filters the Minster now has, each one earned through some *courageous* act undertaken in the name of the Early Rising. *At least four of them were earned through blood, the murder of child not fit enough to serve the town, to serve the people.* A sickening thought, that the only reason Jack had been allowed to live was that her limbs and lungs worked within the legal limits deemed acceptable by their *so-great society.*
"Your mother?" the Minster's voice was a quiet whisper, hissing through the pipes that decorated what might have been his face. Yet it was all encompassing, commanding despite it's volume, as if spoken throughout the speakers that clung to every corner of Jack's home.
Barely visible behind the Minster's thick, pin-stripped cloak, two figures cast in shadow. A woman and *half-a-man.* Jack's parents. At least that's what they'd told her, for if truly this Minster *was* her father, then could the woman bound and blindfolded behind him not be an imposter in her own right?
"I'll go." Jack said, finally, followed by deep sighing from her *parents.* They were relieved, of course, had she chosen otherwise it would not be her alone who lost her skin. "Not for them, not for you..."
"It doesn't matter, girl. Whatever self righteous reason you've adopted for this journey, *it* will take that from you, too." face to face with Jack, her reflection so clear in the mirrored glass panels of his mask's eyelets, the Minster tapped the heel of his foot three times against the boards of the floor.
Jack closed her eyes.
"Open them." a sly hissing in her ear.
As she did a single shot flew through the far side window of their home, glass shattering before her parent's feet, a ball of lead embedded in her mother's skull.
"You may choose to disbelieve me, but she was, and I am." the Minster shrugged the words away, "No matter, two father's in such a day and age is far from a thing to cry over." a gloved hand raised to Jack's cheek, a tear swept from its resting place, "Don't let me down."
Jack nodded, silent, her eyes fixed on her own reflection, whatever *it* was, she would be the end of *it*, and the end of Yolkely, too. That much she'd decided on, that much would be her own *self righteous reason*.
\-- // --
To any that have taken the time to read this, I hope you enjoyed it, and if you would like to see more, let me know! I'll be picking up writing again and adding shorts to my sub: r/talesofallure | |
[WP] Whenever someone in your town turns 16 they have to meet 'it'. The one who is like a god to the town. This time it's your turn to meet 'it', but it wasn't at all what you expected... | I stepped forth, into the darkened cave. It was my 16th birthday, and the Aging Ritual was upon me. As tradition, I had to meet The Shadow. The one who lorded over the village, and demanded our respect and servitude, in return for protection and bountiful harvests.
I was worried. No-one spoke of what happened when you approached it. Most returned, pale and silent. And the rest never returned at all. At least, not alive. Their head would be found at the entrance of the cave, neatly severed.
I stepped through the cave, my eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. It extended in and down, and I had to walk without light, away from the sun. The rhythmic drumming from the village faded away as I delved into the earth, the air becoming silent.
After climbing down, any ambient light was gone. The oppressive darkness covered all, and I stumbled along, following the wall with one arm whilst extending the other before me. I was hoping to avoid ramming into stone, as I would not see it coming.
The walk dragged on, and I started picturing just what it would be. Would it be a monster? Maybe something made of bones? Or possibly a spider-like entity? Not that I would see it of course, as it was darker then a starless and moonless night in here.
I stepped forwards, but there was no floor beneath my feet. I fell, tumbling into the abyss. I screamed as I fell, before something caught me. It felt like being embraced in a blanket, but made of silk, and cold.
"Ahhh, the newest tribute."
Its voice echoed from all around me. It sounded far from human, and pleased. Probably pleased to see me.
"You have come to complete the Ritual."
"Y-yes?"
"Excellent."
I could hear a grin in its voice, and I was lowered, finding hard ground beneath me.
"Um.... what are you?"
"A good question, little tribute."
"Thank you?"
It fell silent, and I waited.
"Now, take off your top."
"Um, what?!"
"Bare your chest, tribute."
I hesitated.
"Bare it now, or fail the tradition, and suffer my... displeasure."
I took it off, shivering in the dark and cold. A sharp pain slashed through me, as something cut into my flesh. I could feel it grasp my ribcage, and could feel something carve into the bone. I screamed in pain. It released me, and I dropped, clutching my chest.
"That was only the first half."
More pain flashed, as it cut into my head. It carved into my skull, and the feeling of it moving behind my eyes made me nauseous. It released me again, and I held my head, tears leaking from my eyes.
"All done, little tribute. Now you can finally see me."
I blinked open my eyes. The dark still surrounded me. But as I looked it faded, and I finally saw it. Before me was a crystal, surrounded by thick shadow that was still darkened.
"I am a fragment of the Spark of Creation. You have been bound to me, to keep me hidden from those who would rather use me for ill. Now go. The shadow here will no longer hide your sight. Your elders will tell you more."
It sank into the stone, away from me. I looked down at my chest, to see no sign of the cut it had done. There was no blood either. But the lingering agony remained. I turned to leave, shaken up by the experience, a new shield for The Shadow. | The time has come
Childhood is gone
And I shall meet the One
'It' the thing is called
The obscure leader of our horde
Reverenced as a god
Once we turn sixteen
We join a team
To meet the Thing
We went there at night
To meet the almighty
But something was not right
When I entered its den
It began to rain
And I saw myself alone facing a merman
The creature smiled at me
And started moving beastly
As if it was in the sea
"My name is Dagon
I live since the Age of Iron
When I was the head of the pantheon
But now I'm locked in this prison
Forgotten after my temple destruction
But I hope to leave soon
Because I just found you
The One I've been looking forward to
The messenger of Cthulhu!" | |
[WP] the party finally arrived at the dark lord's palace. Entering the throne room they expected to face a terrifying demon king, but instead they found a small child wearing a crown holding a sword with shaking hands. | "If you turn back now, I may spare your insignificant lives" A deep demonic voice rumbles from within the throne room "I am, after all, a merciful king."
The party keeps moving toward the tall stone doors. They had come this far, they would not falter now.
"Enter my sanctuary and face the same fate as Kalifax the Lightbringer." It roars "Even the Greatest Wizard of this age fell before me, what chance do you have?"
Kalifax was a beloved mentor to all of them. The wizard clutches her staff, the cleric recites a passage from her holy book, and the rogue retreats a bit more into the shadows. The barbarian, characteristically reckless, screams and charges in, sword in hand, before anyone can stop him.
His screams of Rage desist suddenly soon after entering the chamber, only to be replaced by screams of pain.
The screams of pain are unsurprising, he was foolish to think he could confront the Dark Lord alone. What is truly disquieting is the moment of silence beforehand. He is not often silent.
The rest of the heroes enter cautiously through the now open doors, and see what brought this silence. The barbarian is bleeding out on the floor from the wound where his sword arm used to be, but what is truly shocking is the figure standing over him.
A young girl, wearing a crown of dark twisted metal several sizes to large for her head, and holding a rune-laden sword of the same material nearly as tall as she is with what even the wizard can tell is terrible form.
"S-Stay back. I wear the Cr-Crown of Night-Ni-Nightmares and wield the S-Sword of Ill Omen."
The glamor masking her voice has faded, the demonic echoes replaced by the pleading of a scared child trying to seem tough.
"Easy now, just let us heal our friend and no one will have to get hurt." the cleric says reassuringly.
The girl points her sword awkwardly outward at the party. "If any of you come any closer I will c-cu-cut you down as I d-d-did Kalifax."
"No one's cutting anyone down, just tell us where the real Dark Lord Zethedar is and we will be on our merry way." says the cleric, walking slowly toward the unconscious barbarian and shaking child.
"He-he" tears begin forming in the child's eyes "He perished in combat with Kalifax Lightbringer."
"I am his daughter, Zariel. Avenger of my father's death, bearer of his sword and crown. I have b-been ruling in secret since my father was, was, was ki-ki-kill...
..slain."
"You are truly Kalifax's killer then?" asks the wizard from across the room. "How did one such as you kill one such as him?"
Zariel begins speaking and the words tumble out of her like rain from a cloud. She has had no one to tell this story to since it occurred
"After My father was, was slain, Kalifax told me he would charge me with the destruction of the Crown of Nightmares and the Sword of Ill Omens, he said I was innocent, and that I had been desensitized to their co-corrupting influence. As though I would destroy my birthright, as though I would destroy everything my father had worked to create. I had never worn the crown or held the sword before, my-my father had always told me I could when I was older. I wept, because my father would be the last Dark Lord, because I would never get to wear the Crown of Nightmares or carry the Sword of Ill Omens. I wept for my father and I wept because this man would destroy everything that was my father's.Because I would be made an agent of his destruction. And as the- the bastard worm moved to comfort me I realized that this did not have to be so.
I had never ki-kil- cut anyone down before, but the sword made it so easy.
It drank deep of his blood and it sang out in thanks to me.
The day of my inheritance, the day I had always dreamed of had come, but it was not a joyous day. I could not let my father's court know he had passed, that I had ascended. He had always warned me that there was not one among them who would not kill me and steal my inheritance in an instant.
Though I had the Crown of Nightmares and the Sword of Ill Omens I was still small and frail and young. My father's Dark Court respected only him, so I would make it seem that he had never died. Zethedar would have slain the Lightbringer, he would be the most feared Dark Lord in history.
And I would finish his work."
The cleric has come close enough to the barbarian to heal him. Zariel took no notice of this, so clouded were her eyes with tears and her mind with memories.
As she shakes off her reverie, she sees that the party have made their battle formation. She knows little of tactics, but she does know that they have come closer in defiance of her warning.
The barbarian holds his sword over her head.
"I don't wanna hurt you, kid. None of us do. So why don't you take off your daddy's crown and put down his sword and this can all be over."
She looks up. She sees she is outnumbered, that she is outmatched, that she has never been in a straight fight, while these five have the scars of a dozen words. She wipes away her tears and says one word.
"No." | The druid's nose turned up in glee at the familiar smell of a demi-beast. His companions looked to him waiting for the order: Kill the child or leave it be.
With a sigh the druid took on the form of a human to communicate with his party.
"It is a demi-beast not unlike Quartz or Cross."
"Make sense." Cross, the Sun-praising Barbarian, nodded in response
The sextet decided to split up; three to climb, three to return the child to safety. They split up in trios that complimented each other and made up for their own weaknesses.
"Do you think the child is the demon?" Quartz, a Moon-praising Ranger, inquired from her trio.
The druid in the form his companions preferred he take, that of a wolf, nodded.
"Then why did you let our friend's take him with them?"
A series of barks and grunts was the answer to the curious Ranger's question. If not for her skills at reading animal lanhuages, she may not have gotten the warning: "He is too round to be a threat and it is unlikely his parent figure would truely be evil considering his demi nature."
Angrily the Ranger took a leap through the towers window. She cloaked her hand in angelic energy and dragged herself down to help her friends.
The Paladin sat backand watched as the events unfurled fully believing in the capabilities of his party regardless of if they understood him or not.
Together, the cat paladin and the druid climbed up the tower where they met the demon they were after.
"Is this the village's latest sacrifice? A wolf and a cat... They shall make great pets for junior but alas, he would worry he might hurt them."
The demon pondered for a moment before teleporting to the gate of its prison with the druid and paladin. It ushered them out and telported away once more.
The druid howled a deathly note and changed forms, matching that of the demon, and pulled it out, freeing it from its curse.
"You are no longer bound to that palace. I know what weakness lies in your heart so do not even think about attacking the village lest I break your will." The druid spoke before returning to the form of a wolf.
The demon stood abacked. *This wolf that had so easily walked into a blessed palace with a cat was a demon that knew my secrets.*
With a huff, the demon called and waited for its child to no avail. Gone was her only source of joy in this bleak world. Taken by a fellow demon to keep her in check. Woe be to her.
Then she heard that terrifying howl as the cat and wolf returned her child to her safely. The wolc shot her a knowing look and left all within the blinking span of a human. | |
[WP] the party finally arrived at the dark lord's palace. Entering the throne room they expected to face a terrifying demon king, but instead they found a small child wearing a crown holding a sword with shaking hands. | The echoes of our battle cries gradually dissipated into the thick stone walls of the throne room.
There was no Royal Guard as Isaac had warned. There was to be no suicide mission towards the evil which sat on the throne.
In fear, sat a feeble child. Panic strewn across his face, and tears clearly rolling from his eyes. He tried to raise the sword which laid across his lap, almost comically bigger than his entire body, but his arms buckled with every attempt.
For all but the child’s whimpers, there was silence.
We stood around 20 feet from the throne which we had fought so hard to reach for the sake of our people; those back home in Nivalhem. This quest was for those who had for so long lived in the shadows of this... boy?
“What sorcery is this...?” Miander whispered to me, “Is this some kind of cruel trick?”
I glanced at her, and my confusion was mirrored across her features.
Bjorn and Hardis were stood behind us, swords still raised, but hands shuffling against their handles. They were uneasy.
Quiet once more, yet, the undertone of whimpers remained. The metal hinges of the throne room door now creaked from behind us, as what remained of the door sat at a right angle to the floor.
A mere moment ago, we were ready to inflict much more brutality.
Now, all I could muster was a gesture towards Miander. A raised right hand as I lowered my bow.
The twang of arcane infused bowstring sounded out as I gently placed the bow on the floor. Isaac’s craftsmanship.
“Idril, what are-“ Hardis started. Again, I raised my hand, and he quickly fell to silence.
My armour clinked as I began to slowly walk towards the child.
He shrieked, “in the name- in my name, I command-“; he choked midway through his sentence and began to bawl.
I continued my approach until I was a mere foot from the monster who had haunted many a nightmare. Turning partway around, I could see that my party were still rooted to the spot.
“DO NOT MAKE ME SMITE YOU!” he screamed, again trying to raise the sword.
“My child, how will you smite me when you cannot raise your blade?” I replied, calmly.
“I AM NO CHILD; I AM YOUR KING” he shrieked once more. I stepped back slightly as he raised the blade momentarily, powered by desperation.
My party began to creep towards me, their weapons still raised. Eventually, they were gathered at my side.
Miander reached towards me; “Your bow, Idril”.
The blue glint of the arcane bowstring reflected against the steam of tears falling from the boy’s eyes.
It was clear what had to be done. Isaac had prophesied as much.
Our party, the last of the Nivalhem Guardians, were to bring prosperity to the kingdom once more.
I stepped backwards and drew an arrow from my quiver. Three arrowheads; one for the head, one for the heart, one for the abdomen.
That for the head would destroy the knowledge of evil.
That for the heart would destroy the passion for pain.
That for the abdomen would destroy the hunger for destruction.
**
The bowstring was taut.
The child had ceased crying. His eyes bore into mine; like Isaac’s had done in foreseeing our quest. He knew his death was coming.
In his eyes I saw Isaac. I heard his voice. He had thanked us for our sacrifice before we had left Nivalhem.
The arcane magic infused with the arrowheads. They knew their targets.
Why had he thanked us for our *sacrifice*?
Miander fell first. Then Bjorn. Finally, Hardis.
From within, my trachea collapsed.
As I fell to my knees, I stared into those eyes. Isaac’s eyes.
The boy’s lips moved, but so came Isaac’s voice.
“Prosperity once more”. | The druid's nose turned up in glee at the familiar smell of a demi-beast. His companions looked to him waiting for the order: Kill the child or leave it be.
With a sigh the druid took on the form of a human to communicate with his party.
"It is a demi-beast not unlike Quartz or Cross."
"Make sense." Cross, the Sun-praising Barbarian, nodded in response
The sextet decided to split up; three to climb, three to return the child to safety. They split up in trios that complimented each other and made up for their own weaknesses.
"Do you think the child is the demon?" Quartz, a Moon-praising Ranger, inquired from her trio.
The druid in the form his companions preferred he take, that of a wolf, nodded.
"Then why did you let our friend's take him with them?"
A series of barks and grunts was the answer to the curious Ranger's question. If not for her skills at reading animal lanhuages, she may not have gotten the warning: "He is too round to be a threat and it is unlikely his parent figure would truely be evil considering his demi nature."
Angrily the Ranger took a leap through the towers window. She cloaked her hand in angelic energy and dragged herself down to help her friends.
The Paladin sat backand watched as the events unfurled fully believing in the capabilities of his party regardless of if they understood him or not.
Together, the cat paladin and the druid climbed up the tower where they met the demon they were after.
"Is this the village's latest sacrifice? A wolf and a cat... They shall make great pets for junior but alas, he would worry he might hurt them."
The demon pondered for a moment before teleporting to the gate of its prison with the druid and paladin. It ushered them out and telported away once more.
The druid howled a deathly note and changed forms, matching that of the demon, and pulled it out, freeing it from its curse.
"You are no longer bound to that palace. I know what weakness lies in your heart so do not even think about attacking the village lest I break your will." The druid spoke before returning to the form of a wolf.
The demon stood abacked. *This wolf that had so easily walked into a blessed palace with a cat was a demon that knew my secrets.*
With a huff, the demon called and waited for its child to no avail. Gone was her only source of joy in this bleak world. Taken by a fellow demon to keep her in check. Woe be to her.
Then she heard that terrifying howl as the cat and wolf returned her child to her safely. The wolc shot her a knowing look and left all within the blinking span of a human. | |
[WP] the party finally arrived at the dark lord's palace. Entering the throne room they expected to face a terrifying demon king, but instead they found a small child wearing a crown holding a sword with shaking hands. | The echoes of our battle cries gradually dissipated into the thick stone walls of the throne room.
There was no Royal Guard as Isaac had warned. There was to be no suicide mission towards the evil which sat on the throne.
In fear, sat a feeble child. Panic strewn across his face, and tears clearly rolling from his eyes. He tried to raise the sword which laid across his lap, almost comically bigger than his entire body, but his arms buckled with every attempt.
For all but the child’s whimpers, there was silence.
We stood around 20 feet from the throne which we had fought so hard to reach for the sake of our people; those back home in Nivalhem. This quest was for those who had for so long lived in the shadows of this... boy?
“What sorcery is this...?” Miander whispered to me, “Is this some kind of cruel trick?”
I glanced at her, and my confusion was mirrored across her features.
Bjorn and Hardis were stood behind us, swords still raised, but hands shuffling against their handles. They were uneasy.
Quiet once more, yet, the undertone of whimpers remained. The metal hinges of the throne room door now creaked from behind us, as what remained of the door sat at a right angle to the floor.
A mere moment ago, we were ready to inflict much more brutality.
Now, all I could muster was a gesture towards Miander. A raised right hand as I lowered my bow.
The twang of arcane infused bowstring sounded out as I gently placed the bow on the floor. Isaac’s craftsmanship.
“Idril, what are-“ Hardis started. Again, I raised my hand, and he quickly fell to silence.
My armour clinked as I began to slowly walk towards the child.
He shrieked, “in the name- in my name, I command-“; he choked midway through his sentence and began to bawl.
I continued my approach until I was a mere foot from the monster who had haunted many a nightmare. Turning partway around, I could see that my party were still rooted to the spot.
“DO NOT MAKE ME SMITE YOU!” he screamed, again trying to raise the sword.
“My child, how will you smite me when you cannot raise your blade?” I replied, calmly.
“I AM NO CHILD; I AM YOUR KING” he shrieked once more. I stepped back slightly as he raised the blade momentarily, powered by desperation.
My party began to creep towards me, their weapons still raised. Eventually, they were gathered at my side.
Miander reached towards me; “Your bow, Idril”.
The blue glint of the arcane bowstring reflected against the steam of tears falling from the boy’s eyes.
It was clear what had to be done. Isaac had prophesied as much.
Our party, the last of the Nivalhem Guardians, were to bring prosperity to the kingdom once more.
I stepped backwards and drew an arrow from my quiver. Three arrowheads; one for the head, one for the heart, one for the abdomen.
That for the head would destroy the knowledge of evil.
That for the heart would destroy the passion for pain.
That for the abdomen would destroy the hunger for destruction.
**
The bowstring was taut.
The child had ceased crying. His eyes bore into mine; like Isaac’s had done in foreseeing our quest. He knew his death was coming.
In his eyes I saw Isaac. I heard his voice. He had thanked us for our sacrifice before we had left Nivalhem.
The arcane magic infused with the arrowheads. They knew their targets.
Why had he thanked us for our *sacrifice*?
Miander fell first. Then Bjorn. Finally, Hardis.
From within, my trachea collapsed.
As I fell to my knees, I stared into those eyes. Isaac’s eyes.
The boy’s lips moved, but so came Isaac’s voice.
“Prosperity once more”. | They came, bloodied and battered. Demon after demon, beast after beast, the time had finally come to confront the source of it all. Finding the Demon King was easy. All they had to do was follow the webs. The thicker the webs, they closer to fate they had become. Indeed, the webs were so thick, they party had put out their torches for fear of igniting the halls. Now, guided by the Wizard’s staff, they presses on. Though the light was dim, the vast webs glimmered at the foreign source. As the vaults went higher, the glimmer began to fade. At last, they came to talk doors.
The Bard broke the long silence, “Where do you think we are?”
The Paladin looked around, “Judging from the ceiling, we are approaching some sort of chapel. Whatever this place may be, the Demon King is beyond these doors.”
The Wizard turned to the party, “Once we open these doors, the Demon King will surely have a trap set for us. Weapons at the ready and get say your prayers.”
“I’m ready, my lyre is tuned and my mind is clear.”
The Paladin touched their shoulders and prayed to each one, “You have the blessing of Victory, she watches over us.”
The Rogue counted her knives, “Five left, but I can make them count.
The Wizard nodded, and together, they pushed the creaking doors open. Before them were massive walls of web. The light caught the reflection of massive balls, slightly larger than the party themselves. These balls were hanging from the ceiling with thick ropes of web. Yet, it was quiet, too quiet. As they looked around, the Rogue cut open one of the balls,
“Yep, this is Roland. We found your Temple Master.”
To which the Paladin replied, “Dagger at the ready. He’s here.”
The Paladin stared at the darkness ahead, unmoving. His stance suggested a battle was imminent,
“Throw some light up ahead.”
The Wizard grabbed a crystal from his pouch. It shone a dazzling light in his hand, as if the sun had risen above the shade once more. He tossed it ahead. Darkness gave way to the new light, to which a small boy suddenly appeared. He was holding a sword, which seemed too heavy for him. His face was as pale as the moon. The crown on his head didn’t fit him at all, and dropped toward his left side. He was visibly shaking at the knees.
Only the Paladin kept his guard up. The Rogue blurted out, “What’s this, just a boy? Where is the Demon King?”
To which the Paladin replied, “It must be a trap.”
“IT IS NO TRAP.”
The loud voice boomed and echoed around the room. All members were read once again. The Rogue had jumped back, hiding in the shadows,
“Who’s there? Show yourself!”
“IT IS I, THE ONE WHO GUIDED YOU HERE.”
The voice came from one of the balls. The Wizard pointed his staff towards the spice, and found an old withered face protruding upside down from the white blob.
“YES, I, METHUSELAH, HAVE FINALLY BROUGHT YOU HERE TO FACE DESTINY. NOW IS THE TIME TO END THE WAR AND BRING PEACE TO THE WORLD.”
The Bard cleared his throat, “Are you telling me that this boy is the Demon King?” The light picked up the rivers tears from the boy’s face.
“YES, IT IS HE. THE DARK MAGIC HAS TAKEN ITS TOLL ON THE LORD. NOW HE IS DEFENSELESS. NOW IS THE TIME TO FINISH WHAT WE COULD NOT ACCOMPLISH.”
The Rogue scoffed, “Well, what are we waiting for; let’s do it!” She immediately jumped in the air in a leap towards the helpless boy. The only thing the Wizard was able to do was yell, “Wait! Stop!”
But it was too late. She had already performed her coup de grace. As she landed in the web-littered floor, the boy’s head slid away from his body. Both fell motionless to the ground. All she could do now was look at her work,
“That seemed...easy, too easy.”
The Paladin turned to the Wizard, “Can you cast a spell to take us back?”
The Wizard raised his staff, and a light from the top began to glow. He began to mutter an incantation.
CRACK!
The party’s eyes widened in shock. A long spike protruded from the Wizard’s abdomen. Reeling from shock and pain, the Wizard broke into a cold sweat. After a pregnant pause, the spike jerked the Wizard into the darkness, dropping his staff.
The Paladin shouted in terror, but found that he could not move, save his head.
“What’s wrong with me? I can’t move!”
To which Methuselah replied, THE TOXIN HAS TAKEN EFFECT. YOUR MUSCLES HAVE HARDENED AND BECOME STIFF. YOU CAN ONLY WITNESS THEY FATE OF YOU AND THOSE AROUND YOU.”
The Bard wanted to scream, but he was completely paralyzed, staring at the ceiling. A spike came shooting down at him, piercing thin through his mouth. And just like the Wizard, he vanished into the darkness as swift as it came down.
The Rogue began to break, “This can’t be happening! This isn’t how it’s supposed to end!” As soon as she finished speaking, six thick arms came out from the darkness and dragged her in.
“NO! I don’t want to DIE! NO!”
The Paladin also broke in a cold sweat. Having seen his comrades get killed, he knew he was next. He did what he could only do,
“Methuselah, why? Why have you done this to us? We are here to save you.”
“MY TIME HAD COME LONG AGO. I AM NO LONGER THE ONE WHO CAME INTO THIS DOMAIN. INDEED, YOUNG ONE, I AM MERELY A PUPPET NOW. BUT NOT TO WORRY. THE KING HAS SEEN TO IT THAT YOUR SUFFERING WILL END. HE WILL FEAST ON YOUR CORPSES AS HE WAITS FOR THE NEXT GROUP.”
The Paladin could only accept his fate as two long arms brought him up to the ceiling. He knew he would join the other balls of web in a matter of time. | |
[WP] the party finally arrived at the dark lord's palace. Entering the throne room they expected to face a terrifying demon king, but instead they found a small child wearing a crown holding a sword with shaking hands. | The red light emanating around the door dances on the riveted leather garb of our slayer as he reaches to push it open, anxious to get underway.
“Steady now” the magician cautions “We don’t yet know what lies beyond. I do wish our sponsor had given additional instructions.”
The bard nods. She is well known for her ability to mimic songs of celebration, love and even defeat. She and her strings are prepared for anything.
————————
One week prior:
HELP! IT’S BEEN 10 YEARS SINCE THE QUEEN DEMON ARRIVED - WE BEG YOUR AID!
“It’s just one town over” Narya said, tapping a familiar rhythm on the wooden table.
Black as the space between the stars, the silk of Beren’s cloak whispered as he ran his hands along it, checking the magic he’s placed in the stitches. “I would like a chance to battle-test these new skills”
“You know I’m always up for adventure!” Flimsy curtains ruffle and a candle is extinguished by the pointed toe of Dior’s shoe before he lands lightly beside Narya.
“Show off” she puffs. Then composes their response outlining the usual terms.
———————
Black doors swing easily open and the three straighten their shoulders and hold heads high. Dior the Slayer takes point ever light on his feet, Narya half a step behind and to the right holding tight to her guitar, Beren to the left wrapped in his silk cloak. The doors shut with a snap leaving them in just a dim red glow. Light is directed toward the trio and they sense figures looming along the edges of the room.
They stop a few steps shy of the dais and look at up. A black crown rests askew on the head of a young girl. She wields a large blade and her hands tremble as she rises, pronouncing “It’s time!”
Narya is the quickest of the three and has already struck a chord, but Dior is only a beat behind.
“Yaaas, Queen!”
The party has arrived. | They came, bloodied and battered. Demon after demon, beast after beast, the time had finally come to confront the source of it all. Finding the Demon King was easy. All they had to do was follow the webs. The thicker the webs, they closer to fate they had become. Indeed, the webs were so thick, they party had put out their torches for fear of igniting the halls. Now, guided by the Wizard’s staff, they presses on. Though the light was dim, the vast webs glimmered at the foreign source. As the vaults went higher, the glimmer began to fade. At last, they came to talk doors.
The Bard broke the long silence, “Where do you think we are?”
The Paladin looked around, “Judging from the ceiling, we are approaching some sort of chapel. Whatever this place may be, the Demon King is beyond these doors.”
The Wizard turned to the party, “Once we open these doors, the Demon King will surely have a trap set for us. Weapons at the ready and get say your prayers.”
“I’m ready, my lyre is tuned and my mind is clear.”
The Paladin touched their shoulders and prayed to each one, “You have the blessing of Victory, she watches over us.”
The Rogue counted her knives, “Five left, but I can make them count.
The Wizard nodded, and together, they pushed the creaking doors open. Before them were massive walls of web. The light caught the reflection of massive balls, slightly larger than the party themselves. These balls were hanging from the ceiling with thick ropes of web. Yet, it was quiet, too quiet. As they looked around, the Rogue cut open one of the balls,
“Yep, this is Roland. We found your Temple Master.”
To which the Paladin replied, “Dagger at the ready. He’s here.”
The Paladin stared at the darkness ahead, unmoving. His stance suggested a battle was imminent,
“Throw some light up ahead.”
The Wizard grabbed a crystal from his pouch. It shone a dazzling light in his hand, as if the sun had risen above the shade once more. He tossed it ahead. Darkness gave way to the new light, to which a small boy suddenly appeared. He was holding a sword, which seemed too heavy for him. His face was as pale as the moon. The crown on his head didn’t fit him at all, and dropped toward his left side. He was visibly shaking at the knees.
Only the Paladin kept his guard up. The Rogue blurted out, “What’s this, just a boy? Where is the Demon King?”
To which the Paladin replied, “It must be a trap.”
“IT IS NO TRAP.”
The loud voice boomed and echoed around the room. All members were read once again. The Rogue had jumped back, hiding in the shadows,
“Who’s there? Show yourself!”
“IT IS I, THE ONE WHO GUIDED YOU HERE.”
The voice came from one of the balls. The Wizard pointed his staff towards the spice, and found an old withered face protruding upside down from the white blob.
“YES, I, METHUSELAH, HAVE FINALLY BROUGHT YOU HERE TO FACE DESTINY. NOW IS THE TIME TO END THE WAR AND BRING PEACE TO THE WORLD.”
The Bard cleared his throat, “Are you telling me that this boy is the Demon King?” The light picked up the rivers tears from the boy’s face.
“YES, IT IS HE. THE DARK MAGIC HAS TAKEN ITS TOLL ON THE LORD. NOW HE IS DEFENSELESS. NOW IS THE TIME TO FINISH WHAT WE COULD NOT ACCOMPLISH.”
The Rogue scoffed, “Well, what are we waiting for; let’s do it!” She immediately jumped in the air in a leap towards the helpless boy. The only thing the Wizard was able to do was yell, “Wait! Stop!”
But it was too late. She had already performed her coup de grace. As she landed in the web-littered floor, the boy’s head slid away from his body. Both fell motionless to the ground. All she could do now was look at her work,
“That seemed...easy, too easy.”
The Paladin turned to the Wizard, “Can you cast a spell to take us back?”
The Wizard raised his staff, and a light from the top began to glow. He began to mutter an incantation.
CRACK!
The party’s eyes widened in shock. A long spike protruded from the Wizard’s abdomen. Reeling from shock and pain, the Wizard broke into a cold sweat. After a pregnant pause, the spike jerked the Wizard into the darkness, dropping his staff.
The Paladin shouted in terror, but found that he could not move, save his head.
“What’s wrong with me? I can’t move!”
To which Methuselah replied, THE TOXIN HAS TAKEN EFFECT. YOUR MUSCLES HAVE HARDENED AND BECOME STIFF. YOU CAN ONLY WITNESS THEY FATE OF YOU AND THOSE AROUND YOU.”
The Bard wanted to scream, but he was completely paralyzed, staring at the ceiling. A spike came shooting down at him, piercing thin through his mouth. And just like the Wizard, he vanished into the darkness as swift as it came down.
The Rogue began to break, “This can’t be happening! This isn’t how it’s supposed to end!” As soon as she finished speaking, six thick arms came out from the darkness and dragged her in.
“NO! I don’t want to DIE! NO!”
The Paladin also broke in a cold sweat. Having seen his comrades get killed, he knew he was next. He did what he could only do,
“Methuselah, why? Why have you done this to us? We are here to save you.”
“MY TIME HAD COME LONG AGO. I AM NO LONGER THE ONE WHO CAME INTO THIS DOMAIN. INDEED, YOUNG ONE, I AM MERELY A PUPPET NOW. BUT NOT TO WORRY. THE KING HAS SEEN TO IT THAT YOUR SUFFERING WILL END. HE WILL FEAST ON YOUR CORPSES AS HE WAITS FOR THE NEXT GROUP.”
The Paladin could only accept his fate as two long arms brought him up to the ceiling. He knew he would join the other balls of web in a matter of time. | |
[WP] the party finally arrived at the dark lord's palace. Entering the throne room they expected to face a terrifying demon king, but instead they found a small child wearing a crown holding a sword with shaking hands. | As the party entered the musty old caste of the dark lord, they found it all but abandoned. No underlings, no guards, and certainly no dark lord. The air hung with an unspoken suspense, but nothing came of it. That is, until they reached the throne room. What greeted them was a different scene than expected.
"S-s-stay back! I m-may not know how to use this, but that doesn't mean I won't try!" A scared little boy donning the dark lord's crown and wielding his fabled sword with an unsure arm stood across the room. The party was confused, to say the least. The paladin of vengeance spoke up first. "Are you... the dark lord?" He asked, not hiding his doubt. The boy lowered the sword a bit. "Only by succession." The warlock quickly grew bored, realizing no fight was in the cards. "Can't we just get this over with?" He impatiently readied an eldritch blast, just in case. "Stand down, Aalikiir. We came for the dark lord, not his son. Let's just ask him where his old man is, and do this clean for once." The warlock rolled his eyes. "Fine. I swear Taavish, the only reason you aren't dead is cuz you still owe me for the barkeep incident." The boy lowered his weapon. "Oh, thank Xii'grathil you don't want a fight. I don't think I've ever used this sword. Fighting was more my dad's business. So, what do you want to know?" The boy had seemed to lighten up a fair bit, and Taavish took the lead on the conversation. "The informants at the guild said this place was packed to the brim with servants and guards. Yet now, not a single person but you is here. Do you know anything about where they went?" The boy turned away. "It's... A long story." The paladin smiled. "We have time."
"I guess I should start from the beginning. My father was nice, to me and my brothers at least. He kept his 'work' out of our lives, for the most part. Bar one day. He always got stressed around that time of year, and on that day, at dawn precisely, a man dressed to the nines would show up, without fail. He would always ask for something of value to settle their debt. Every year, one more of my brothers went of to 'live with our relatives'." The boy began to take a somber look, holding back tears. "Mother left last year. I couldn't believe it, and I demanded the truth from my father. Part of me wishes I never did. He had consorted with demons and old ones to gain the sway and power he has now, and they were simply collecting their dues. He said they wanted me next, but that he wasn't going to let it happen. In the end, he was right." The boy seemed to be processing it all still. "That day... was today. He challenged the gaudy one to single combat. In an instant, everyone was gone. All that was left was his crown and his sword." Aalikiir seemed to light up a bit. "That explains the demonic energy I felt in this room. Surprisingly noble, for a dark lord." The boy scowled at him. "Have you no sympathy?" Taavish sighed. "No, still working on that with him. So, where is your father now? We are here to claim his bounty, after all." The boy thought for a bit. "I assume the demon took him to his home dimension, so he's likely out of the picture. But if you want to find him, that'd be tough. The demon never used his name." Aalikiir smiled, a conniving grin that betrayed him having some insight. "But I think he did, and so did you. Say, where did you hear the name Xii'grathil?" The boy blushed. "It's my dad's patron god. He always thanked him when something went right, and I guess I picked up the habit." Aalikiir spoke seriously, a rare sight for him. "You say patron, not knowing how right you are. I became a warlock, much like I believe your father did. Why? Power, plain and simple. One name that came up again and again was Xii'grathil. The young warlocks told of him as a savior, a merciful patron who gave them everything they desired. The older ones cursed him, as every year he took more from them till they had nothing to give but themselves. This may be just a hunch, but his patron god and this patron 'god' may be one in the same." The boy pondered it a bit. "It would make a lot of sense... In that case, I propose an exchange." Taavish raised an eyebrow. "Of what kind?" The kid smiled. "It's simple. I tag along, and vouch for you at the guild. You get your bounty. But in return..." The boy paused slightly, but continued shortly thereafter. "I want vengeance. I want you to find Xii'grathil and make him pay for the people he took from me. I see the emblem of Vaaliidant on your chest, paladin. You, of all people, know the pain of loss and the sting of vengeance." Taavish sighed. "I suppose it's time you learn of our group motto." Taavish extended a hand to the boy. "No promises, but we'll do what we can. What do you say?" The boy took his hand and shook it.
"Well, that's better than nothing." | They came, bloodied and battered. Demon after demon, beast after beast, the time had finally come to confront the source of it all. Finding the Demon King was easy. All they had to do was follow the webs. The thicker the webs, they closer to fate they had become. Indeed, the webs were so thick, they party had put out their torches for fear of igniting the halls. Now, guided by the Wizard’s staff, they presses on. Though the light was dim, the vast webs glimmered at the foreign source. As the vaults went higher, the glimmer began to fade. At last, they came to talk doors.
The Bard broke the long silence, “Where do you think we are?”
The Paladin looked around, “Judging from the ceiling, we are approaching some sort of chapel. Whatever this place may be, the Demon King is beyond these doors.”
The Wizard turned to the party, “Once we open these doors, the Demon King will surely have a trap set for us. Weapons at the ready and get say your prayers.”
“I’m ready, my lyre is tuned and my mind is clear.”
The Paladin touched their shoulders and prayed to each one, “You have the blessing of Victory, she watches over us.”
The Rogue counted her knives, “Five left, but I can make them count.
The Wizard nodded, and together, they pushed the creaking doors open. Before them were massive walls of web. The light caught the reflection of massive balls, slightly larger than the party themselves. These balls were hanging from the ceiling with thick ropes of web. Yet, it was quiet, too quiet. As they looked around, the Rogue cut open one of the balls,
“Yep, this is Roland. We found your Temple Master.”
To which the Paladin replied, “Dagger at the ready. He’s here.”
The Paladin stared at the darkness ahead, unmoving. His stance suggested a battle was imminent,
“Throw some light up ahead.”
The Wizard grabbed a crystal from his pouch. It shone a dazzling light in his hand, as if the sun had risen above the shade once more. He tossed it ahead. Darkness gave way to the new light, to which a small boy suddenly appeared. He was holding a sword, which seemed too heavy for him. His face was as pale as the moon. The crown on his head didn’t fit him at all, and dropped toward his left side. He was visibly shaking at the knees.
Only the Paladin kept his guard up. The Rogue blurted out, “What’s this, just a boy? Where is the Demon King?”
To which the Paladin replied, “It must be a trap.”
“IT IS NO TRAP.”
The loud voice boomed and echoed around the room. All members were read once again. The Rogue had jumped back, hiding in the shadows,
“Who’s there? Show yourself!”
“IT IS I, THE ONE WHO GUIDED YOU HERE.”
The voice came from one of the balls. The Wizard pointed his staff towards the spice, and found an old withered face protruding upside down from the white blob.
“YES, I, METHUSELAH, HAVE FINALLY BROUGHT YOU HERE TO FACE DESTINY. NOW IS THE TIME TO END THE WAR AND BRING PEACE TO THE WORLD.”
The Bard cleared his throat, “Are you telling me that this boy is the Demon King?” The light picked up the rivers tears from the boy’s face.
“YES, IT IS HE. THE DARK MAGIC HAS TAKEN ITS TOLL ON THE LORD. NOW HE IS DEFENSELESS. NOW IS THE TIME TO FINISH WHAT WE COULD NOT ACCOMPLISH.”
The Rogue scoffed, “Well, what are we waiting for; let’s do it!” She immediately jumped in the air in a leap towards the helpless boy. The only thing the Wizard was able to do was yell, “Wait! Stop!”
But it was too late. She had already performed her coup de grace. As she landed in the web-littered floor, the boy’s head slid away from his body. Both fell motionless to the ground. All she could do now was look at her work,
“That seemed...easy, too easy.”
The Paladin turned to the Wizard, “Can you cast a spell to take us back?”
The Wizard raised his staff, and a light from the top began to glow. He began to mutter an incantation.
CRACK!
The party’s eyes widened in shock. A long spike protruded from the Wizard’s abdomen. Reeling from shock and pain, the Wizard broke into a cold sweat. After a pregnant pause, the spike jerked the Wizard into the darkness, dropping his staff.
The Paladin shouted in terror, but found that he could not move, save his head.
“What’s wrong with me? I can’t move!”
To which Methuselah replied, THE TOXIN HAS TAKEN EFFECT. YOUR MUSCLES HAVE HARDENED AND BECOME STIFF. YOU CAN ONLY WITNESS THEY FATE OF YOU AND THOSE AROUND YOU.”
The Bard wanted to scream, but he was completely paralyzed, staring at the ceiling. A spike came shooting down at him, piercing thin through his mouth. And just like the Wizard, he vanished into the darkness as swift as it came down.
The Rogue began to break, “This can’t be happening! This isn’t how it’s supposed to end!” As soon as she finished speaking, six thick arms came out from the darkness and dragged her in.
“NO! I don’t want to DIE! NO!”
The Paladin also broke in a cold sweat. Having seen his comrades get killed, he knew he was next. He did what he could only do,
“Methuselah, why? Why have you done this to us? We are here to save you.”
“MY TIME HAD COME LONG AGO. I AM NO LONGER THE ONE WHO CAME INTO THIS DOMAIN. INDEED, YOUNG ONE, I AM MERELY A PUPPET NOW. BUT NOT TO WORRY. THE KING HAS SEEN TO IT THAT YOUR SUFFERING WILL END. HE WILL FEAST ON YOUR CORPSES AS HE WAITS FOR THE NEXT GROUP.”
The Paladin could only accept his fate as two long arms brought him up to the ceiling. He knew he would join the other balls of web in a matter of time. | |
[WP] the party finally arrived at the dark lord's palace. Entering the throne room they expected to face a terrifying demon king, but instead they found a small child wearing a crown holding a sword with shaking hands. | Confusion paints the battered party's faces. A cute young girl that appears to have not yet reached double-digits in age stands atop the demonic throne in the Demon King's Hall. She's wielding a fiendish-looking greatsword that would be utterly terrifying had it not looked so comically large in the hands of it's wielder. It is unclear whether this is due to nervousness or the sheer weight of her sword, but the young girl's hands are shaking slightly and slicked with sweat.
Nevertheless, her eyes hold a fiery determination as her face scrunches up into what can only be assumed as her best attempt at a menacing expression.
&#x200B;
"F-foul humans! How f-foolish of you to enter my d-domain! Prepare to be... to be... uh-" The girl's expression falters as she grows silent. The child-king then rests the tip of her blade on the ground momentarily so as to free one of her hands. She stares intently at the released palm before scrunching her face even more, in an attempt to read what is written on it.
"Blasted perspiration... uhhh... prepare to be... massaged... and your bones... mmm... decorated!" She stumbles through her sentence before hefting her sword in triumph and sporting a smug expression when she deciphers the seemingly-correct word from her ink-smudged hand.
&#x200B;
The Hero is frozen stiff in his black-blood-spattered armor. His hand is resting uneasily on the pommel of the sheathed sword strapped to his side. He is unable to make sense of what is currently happening.
"Um, Hero. I think that she's the Demon King. You should unsheathe your Holy Sword and prepare for battle." the Mage whispers nervously to him.
"... You're joking right? Unsheathe my sword? Look at her! She looks no older than my daughter for Lumos' sake!" the Hero whispers back in exasperation. Pull out his sword and smite a child? Even if she's a demon, there must be limits to what is acceptable in this war, right?
The Hero looks around at the rest of the party for support. He instead notices that they have all drawn their weapons and are standing at the ready.
"Can your daughter lift a half-ton of hell-forged bloodsteel!?" whispers the frightened Bard.
"She looks young, but she's a demon. She's probably older than all of us combined." intones the stoic Priest.
The hero turned back to face the now more-assured Demon King.
Her confidence was now bolstered by the blistering threat she had dealt the Hero's party. In her perspective, the party was now frozen in fear, quivering and whispering to themselves in order to rally courage after her unbridled verbal assault. She decided to push her advantage.
&#x200B;
"Fufufu, are you wretches now properly prepared to face my wrath? If you wish to keep your lives, then this is your last chance to flee! Fuhahaha!"
The Hero's expression stiffens. Her newfound confidence causes the Hero to think that perhaps the Priest was right. He decides to ask the girl herself.
"Demon King! We have come to vanquish the evil residing in this palace, and put an end to the 1000-year War between human and demon kind. But before I face you, I must ask something. What is... your age?"
&#x200B;
The demon girl's fragile bravado crumbles. This scenario had not been in the notes her father had left her, not that she had taken the opportunity to properly study them in the first place. She desperately starts to check different parts of her body that have words scribbled onto them while responding.
"Um, I am obliged to... face you in c-combat... and have no responsibility to answer your questions. B-but if you must know... then I have just recently reached the noble age of nine years-old!" she stumbles out.
&#x200B;
The Hero stiffens again. That was not the answer he wanted to hear.
The Mage notices the Hero is now even more unwilling to draw his sword. He frantically begins speaking to the Hero.
"She is a demon! And the Demon King no less! She is most likely lying in order for you to drop your guard! She's preying on your better nature!"
The young girl overhears the Mage as they are no longer whispering and begins to grow upset.
"A noble King such as I has no need to lie to such..." She checks her forearm."... lowly vermin!"
&#x200B;
The Hero had never felt such an odd feeling before. Watching the Demon King he had trained his whole life to face turn out to be an innocent-looking child who was trying their best to sound menacing birthed this feeling. It felt somewhere between pity and nausea.
&#x200B;
"I... I can't do it." He says as his sword arm falls limp at his side. "I can't kill a child, even if it means an end to this hellish war."
"Ah-Aha!" The Demon King announces in surprise. "Then, uh, I will take that as your sign of surrender." She looks around the empty Hall nervously. "P-please wait here while I find someone to escort you to the dungeons." She hops off of the throne she had been standing on in order to reach an intimidating height. She begins cautiously walking towards the Hall doors while still brandishing her greatsword.
&#x200B;
"Please wait a moment!" the Hero exclaims. "Please answer just one more question. I'd always heard that the Demon King was a man and much older. Do you know anything about this?"
&#x200B;
The girl stops walking. A melancholy expression sprouts on her face. "... You must be talking about Father. He died of old age when I was still a baby. He wrote that his greatest happiness was finally being able to have me before he passed on. He... left me notes on how to continue his legacy. That's the only thing he left me." Tears well-up in her determined eyes. "So I will finish what he started and make him proud."
&#x200B;
The Hero's heart shakes. He is not sure how to respond.
"Your father's legacy... it is one of violence and endless bloodshed. You are so young. Are you sure this is the road you want to follow?" he asks.
She turns to look at his party, who still have their arms at the ready and are looking at her with both fear and aggression.
"I... don't really have any interest in war or fighting. Honestly I'm scared of it all. I'd much rather go travelling. See the Great Mountains, the Endless Lakes, even the Human Cities. All the places I read about in the royal library. But I can't since the King is not allowed to leave the Palace during a time of war. I never really got why Father decided to lock himself in the castle and spend his entire life killing humans. Until... Perhaps it's because they all looked at him like this that he..." she says with a hardening expression.
The next thing she knew, the Hero was standing between her and his Party. His back was facing her as he shouted at his party. "Put away your weapons! And while you're at it, put away your gazes as well!"
"B-But Hero-"
"Shut it! Can't you see you're scaring her?!"
The Demon King was perplexed. Her supposed sworn enemy not only had his back turned to her while she was armed, but was now attempting to shield her from his party's looks of contempt.
The Hero turned around to face the young girl. Or to be more accurate, look down towards her. "Please forgive my friends. War has not been kind to them. They act irrationally in their fear." He had a warm smile on his face as he said this.
&#x200B;
Her surprise only deepened. This was the first time the Demon King had seen such an expression aimed towards herself before. Since she was born, the only ones she had ever seen anyone use when facing her were those of fear and reverence.
She wondered what this odd feeling sprouting in her chest was.
"I-It's ok, pest. I did not take it to heart. As long as you all willingly accept imprisonment, I promise to be lenient with your-"
"Ah, about that." interrupted the Hero. "I was thinking instead of resorting to imprisonment, maybe we could work things out diplomatically."
"Diplomatically?" | Of course, his hands shook. They were the mighty hunters of Eledin, the bringers of divine justice - wait, was that a *child*? His hands did not only shake from their presence but the weight of a greatsword twice his size. A crown of ebony metal was perched upon his head, nearly falling down his face.
"Don't underestimate him," Kai warned, pointing their bow at the child.
I moved forward to protect the child, cherry staff in hand. He whimpered as I approached. "P-please..."
"He lies." Nax made to strike at the child with his mace, but I deftly blocked it with my staff.
"What's the holdup, Cam?" Nax asked.
"This child is not suited for the Crown. Look, would Rangar make his crown fit ill? Make himself look too weak to lift a sword?"
"Well, no." Kai finally admitted. They lowered their bow.
"What is your name, child?"
"My name is Ebin." The tanned, scared face of this child was evident now - Rangar was pale as undyed wool.
"Why are you holding a sword too big for you?"
"Rangar. He told me to stay and take his punishment. He threatened to kill Noli if I didn't."
"Who is Noli?" Nax asked.
"My twin." Ebin looked at us for a minute. "Rangar took a passage, but the other servants promised to slow him up."
"Well, Camellia, we have a hunt." Kaile closed the quiver of arrows and motioned Naxenir and I to follow Ebin. | |
[WP] the party finally arrived at the dark lord's palace. Entering the throne room they expected to face a terrifying demon king, but instead they found a small child wearing a crown holding a sword with shaking hands. | Confusion paints the battered party's faces. A cute young girl that appears to have not yet reached double-digits in age stands atop the demonic throne in the Demon King's Hall. She's wielding a fiendish-looking greatsword that would be utterly terrifying had it not looked so comically large in the hands of it's wielder. It is unclear whether this is due to nervousness or the sheer weight of her sword, but the young girl's hands are shaking slightly and slicked with sweat.
Nevertheless, her eyes hold a fiery determination as her face scrunches up into what can only be assumed as her best attempt at a menacing expression.
&#x200B;
"F-foul humans! How f-foolish of you to enter my d-domain! Prepare to be... to be... uh-" The girl's expression falters as she grows silent. The child-king then rests the tip of her blade on the ground momentarily so as to free one of her hands. She stares intently at the released palm before scrunching her face even more, in an attempt to read what is written on it.
"Blasted perspiration... uhhh... prepare to be... massaged... and your bones... mmm... decorated!" She stumbles through her sentence before hefting her sword in triumph and sporting a smug expression when she deciphers the seemingly-correct word from her ink-smudged hand.
&#x200B;
The Hero is frozen stiff in his black-blood-spattered armor. His hand is resting uneasily on the pommel of the sheathed sword strapped to his side. He is unable to make sense of what is currently happening.
"Um, Hero. I think that she's the Demon King. You should unsheathe your Holy Sword and prepare for battle." the Mage whispers nervously to him.
"... You're joking right? Unsheathe my sword? Look at her! She looks no older than my daughter for Lumos' sake!" the Hero whispers back in exasperation. Pull out his sword and smite a child? Even if she's a demon, there must be limits to what is acceptable in this war, right?
The Hero looks around at the rest of the party for support. He instead notices that they have all drawn their weapons and are standing at the ready.
"Can your daughter lift a half-ton of hell-forged bloodsteel!?" whispers the frightened Bard.
"She looks young, but she's a demon. She's probably older than all of us combined." intones the stoic Priest.
The hero turned back to face the now more-assured Demon King.
Her confidence was now bolstered by the blistering threat she had dealt the Hero's party. In her perspective, the party was now frozen in fear, quivering and whispering to themselves in order to rally courage after her unbridled verbal assault. She decided to push her advantage.
&#x200B;
"Fufufu, are you wretches now properly prepared to face my wrath? If you wish to keep your lives, then this is your last chance to flee! Fuhahaha!"
The Hero's expression stiffens. Her newfound confidence causes the Hero to think that perhaps the Priest was right. He decides to ask the girl herself.
"Demon King! We have come to vanquish the evil residing in this palace, and put an end to the 1000-year War between human and demon kind. But before I face you, I must ask something. What is... your age?"
&#x200B;
The demon girl's fragile bravado crumbles. This scenario had not been in the notes her father had left her, not that she had taken the opportunity to properly study them in the first place. She desperately starts to check different parts of her body that have words scribbled onto them while responding.
"Um, I am obliged to... face you in c-combat... and have no responsibility to answer your questions. B-but if you must know... then I have just recently reached the noble age of nine years-old!" she stumbles out.
&#x200B;
The Hero stiffens again. That was not the answer he wanted to hear.
The Mage notices the Hero is now even more unwilling to draw his sword. He frantically begins speaking to the Hero.
"She is a demon! And the Demon King no less! She is most likely lying in order for you to drop your guard! She's preying on your better nature!"
The young girl overhears the Mage as they are no longer whispering and begins to grow upset.
"A noble King such as I has no need to lie to such..." She checks her forearm."... lowly vermin!"
&#x200B;
The Hero had never felt such an odd feeling before. Watching the Demon King he had trained his whole life to face turn out to be an innocent-looking child who was trying their best to sound menacing birthed this feeling. It felt somewhere between pity and nausea.
&#x200B;
"I... I can't do it." He says as his sword arm falls limp at his side. "I can't kill a child, even if it means an end to this hellish war."
"Ah-Aha!" The Demon King announces in surprise. "Then, uh, I will take that as your sign of surrender." She looks around the empty Hall nervously. "P-please wait here while I find someone to escort you to the dungeons." She hops off of the throne she had been standing on in order to reach an intimidating height. She begins cautiously walking towards the Hall doors while still brandishing her greatsword.
&#x200B;
"Please wait a moment!" the Hero exclaims. "Please answer just one more question. I'd always heard that the Demon King was a man and much older. Do you know anything about this?"
&#x200B;
The girl stops walking. A melancholy expression sprouts on her face. "... You must be talking about Father. He died of old age when I was still a baby. He wrote that his greatest happiness was finally being able to have me before he passed on. He... left me notes on how to continue his legacy. That's the only thing he left me." Tears well-up in her determined eyes. "So I will finish what he started and make him proud."
&#x200B;
The Hero's heart shakes. He is not sure how to respond.
"Your father's legacy... it is one of violence and endless bloodshed. You are so young. Are you sure this is the road you want to follow?" he asks.
She turns to look at his party, who still have their arms at the ready and are looking at her with both fear and aggression.
"I... don't really have any interest in war or fighting. Honestly I'm scared of it all. I'd much rather go travelling. See the Great Mountains, the Endless Lakes, even the Human Cities. All the places I read about in the royal library. But I can't since the King is not allowed to leave the Palace during a time of war. I never really got why Father decided to lock himself in the castle and spend his entire life killing humans. Until... Perhaps it's because they all looked at him like this that he..." she says with a hardening expression.
The next thing she knew, the Hero was standing between her and his Party. His back was facing her as he shouted at his party. "Put away your weapons! And while you're at it, put away your gazes as well!"
"B-But Hero-"
"Shut it! Can't you see you're scaring her?!"
The Demon King was perplexed. Her supposed sworn enemy not only had his back turned to her while she was armed, but was now attempting to shield her from his party's looks of contempt.
The Hero turned around to face the young girl. Or to be more accurate, look down towards her. "Please forgive my friends. War has not been kind to them. They act irrationally in their fear." He had a warm smile on his face as he said this.
&#x200B;
Her surprise only deepened. This was the first time the Demon King had seen such an expression aimed towards herself before. Since she was born, the only ones she had ever seen anyone use when facing her were those of fear and reverence.
She wondered what this odd feeling sprouting in her chest was.
"I-It's ok, pest. I did not take it to heart. As long as you all willingly accept imprisonment, I promise to be lenient with your-"
"Ah, about that." interrupted the Hero. "I was thinking instead of resorting to imprisonment, maybe we could work things out diplomatically."
"Diplomatically?" | A quest was given.
A party was chosen.
An adventure was embarked upon.
None had reason to doubt this progression. It was the way of the world, the natural order of things. This land was full of menace and mystery, and any who aspired to greatness would answer the call to face these troubles. So it was with this party.
There were four. They had traveled long and were worn and weary. This quest had not been a simple one. Time and again, they had thought themselves rid of it, only to find a thread leading them onward. Deeper into the Wilds beyond the civilized lands.
Each night, they huddled about the meager fire and dreamed of home and hearth. Of people they loved and the familiar paths their feet had walked before.
But they could not abandon the quest.
A great evil rousted from its long slumber and reached out. Black veins of infested Blood pulsed from this abyssal heart, tainting all who came into contact with it. The party had fought the Lost, had dispatched Human, Ogre and Dragon alike. None could survive the Blood once it had found its way within.
The party was four. But they had been six.
Such was the price one paid in search of greatness.
But now the journey came to an end, at long last. The Dread Keep loomed ahead, and the air was thick with the miasma the party now knew as the harbinger of the Lost. They proceeded, ruined but not broken, determined to do this last deed and rid the world of this taint.
They were not confronted as they reached the gates. The castle stood empty and dark.
They were not fooled. The miasma grew denser with each step, becoming an almost tangible thing.
Of the four, there was a paladin, noble of heart and sure of hand. She had brought the group to peace after the two had been slain. Had given the fallen rites and whispers to their gods, setting them upon their next quest in the hereafter.
She led them now. A soft glow emitted from her chest, pulsing warm yellow, pushing against the miasma. Her soul was of reinforced steel, knit together by her faith in her Goddess. There was a time when her strength had failed her. When all of her had been rent asunder and she could see no path forward.
Tragedy can fell even the strongest spirit. Some pain cannot be ignored. Cannot be survived.
The Goddess had come to this torn and dissembled being and given her meaning. Had restored her soul, though her heart bled still. A heart was beyond the reach of even the Goddess.
They continued onward. The clank and clang of their procession echoing among dusty hallways and cavernous rooms. A warning to all who dwelt within that those who quested had come.
Deeper.
Deeper.
The miasma coalesced now. Swirling about the periphery of the Paladin's golden glow. Lusting. Hungering. Demanding.
A final door stood. The miasma clung to it, unwilling to be moved even as the glow reached it. But darkness is no match for cleansing fire of faith. The Paladin raised her mace aloft, and whispered the name of her Goddess. The mace burst to life, sprouting wondrous sun in this place that had long forgotten it.
She swung the mace forward, slamming it into the final door.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
The miasma fled. The door shattered.
The room beyond was revealed. A hideous throne room, deformed and melted by the hate of the evil that occupied this place. On the opposite end was a throne. Upon that throne sat a child, a crown upon his head and a sword in his hands.
The Paladin stepped into the room. The party followed, strengthened by her resolve. They would follow her into this battle. They trusted her to see through this veneer.
They came to the throne. The child shied away, shielding his eyes from the golden glow.
The Paladin stopped, regarding the child.
Then she spoke.
"My child, worry not, I have come for you at long last."
The three who followed took a step away from the Paladin. They raised their weapons.
The golden glow disappeared.
The miasma came for the three who followed.
A quest was given.
Those who followed never thought to ask whether they pursued the same one.
**Platypus OUT.**
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[WP] While on a road trip find yourself in a small town. As you exit the car, a deafening siren resounds throughout the town. A resident approaches you and yells frantically " We have 30 minutes left until sunset, either leave this town or find place to hide!" | “WHAP!” The man slammed his hand against the wooden table of his farm home on top of the ton, signaling the end of his story.
We rolled into Buncorn just before sunset and as we came to the first stop sign a man frantically waved us to stop. He pleaded that we were in danger and needed to get in his house before nightfall. My wife and I begrudgingly abided by his request and well that’s where we are now.
We had just finished up listening to Don talk about these mysterious disappearances that have been happening just as soon as the dark covers the town; when we hear a knock at the door. Don slowly goes to answer the door and opens the door just a smidge to take a peak outside.
The door is suddenly kicked in and a man with a shotgun blasts Don right in the chest with spread shot.
We make eye contact with the man and says, “thanks for guiding us to him”
“This man right here is Don McGwan and you were just about to be his 42nd and 43rd victim.”
Sharon and I sit down in disbelief, we almost just died.
And I think to myself, wow how did i just get caught. | The engine hummed as the truck sped through the crudely made desert roads. It kicked up dust in it's wake, great clouds of it flying past the windows. It blared 90s Rock Music from the radio as it moved.
It would have been a strange sight to see. The driver, whom we will call "Steven", was even stranger, a scraggly looking man. With disheveled brown hair that looked like it hadn't been combed in days. Yet, it wasn't that long.
He was dressed in a White T-Shirt, Blue Jeans, White Sneakers that had been covered in little dust splotches here and there. Freckles covered the bridge of his nose and accented the Sky Blue Eyes that sat just above them.
He had been heading into town after a long weekend of camping. His town was a little strange, but it was also quite quaint. Little did he know, he might've been in-store for a little more "strange" then he expected.
He had been sitting in his car, listening to the radio play as he sang to it while driving. His eyes peering around at the dusty roads and the cactus' that were spread throughout the desert at random points.
Suddenly, his phone blinked and two things happened. First, it showed that he was almost 100 Miles from the nearest town. But, the second thing happened so quickly he had little time to think about the first.
His wife was calling, Steven, not wanting to upset her. Understandably reached out and pressed the "accept" button. His wife's face flashing briefly onto the screen. Before it turned into an Icon and he could hear her speaking.
"Hello, love. I just got home from work. I love you. I was thinking we could do pasta tonight, huh? Pasta sounds good, right?" She sounded a bit tired and Steven didn't want to cause her anymore hassle.
"Of course, love. Pasta sounds delicious! I'm on my way home now with the rest of the supplies. I got it, because you had to go into work early." He responded.
"Oh, thank you! You're too kind." She laughed. "Alright. I'll see you get home, Mwuah! Love you." Steven smiled and then spoke before she could disconnect.
"And tell our little angel that Dad says Goodnight and he loves here!" He responded with a smile. The line was quiet for a few seconds, before his wife spoke again.
"Yes, I will. Love you, honey. I'll go get the pasta ready and I'll tell her. Will you be home soon?" She asked.
Steven thought about this. Forgetting the message that his phone had flashed moments before. "Yes, I should be home, soon." He responded with a smile.
Then, he disconnected the call and returned to driving. He could now see a town that was coming into sight. It looked almost exactly like his own. But something was a little off...
It wasn't even something visible... and then he heard it. The Siren, so loud it even drowned out the rock music which he still had on full volume. It screamed through the town.
Steven looked around and watched as frantic towns people ran past his truck. Some in groups, some ran solo. Then, a loud THUMP! Came from the outside of his truck...
He whipped around and there they were. Staring wide-eyed at him. "THE SIREN!" They hissed as he rolled down the window just enough to hear them. The Rock Music now off and forgotten.
"The... Siren?" He asked. "YES!" They responded. "It always rings close to sundown!" They hissed. "You, me, we all have 30 Minutes Left until Sundown! Either GET OUT or find a place to hide!" They hissed.
Steven could feel the sweat beading on his forehead from the sickly desert heat. His mind was recoiling in shock and strangely, he felt angry. The kind of angry when you get a sick joke played on you by a bunch of teenagers.
"WHAT IS THIS? SOME KIND OF SICK JOKE?" He roared, turning around to face the person who backed away, almost tripping over themselves in hasty shock and raising their hands in the air.
"30 Minutes Until Sundown... Hide or Get Out..." They hissed. Then, they rushed back towards the truck. Steven stared in horror and quickly attempted to throw it into reverse. But it had completely stopped working...
They whispered it again. "30 Minutes Until Sundown... Hide or Get Out..." Then, they turned. Joining the crowds stampeding to shelters as Steven recoiled again. He attempted to work the truck again, but it wouldn't move.
He threw his hands down hard on the dashboard and screamed in frustration. Then, he remembered. Reaching into the Glove Box, he brought out the Smith & Wesson 627 Revolver. Fully Loaded.
He checked his watch. *25 Minutes Left.* He decided to heed the strangers advice. Throwing the car door open and knocking one of the stampeding men with his car door, who fell flat on their back and groaned.
He didn't have time to help them now. Did he? He checked his watch. *24 Minutes Left.* He cursed. "Fuck it." He muttered and bent down. "Hey, you okay?" He asked as he held out a hand.
The man gratefully took it and nodded. "Yeah, 'the name's Dan." He responded. "Steven." Steven said quickly. "We're supposed to hide, right?" He asked Dan. "Yeah, 'before them's things get out here." Dan responded.
Steven nodded and checked his watch. *22 Minutes Left.* He tugged at Dan. "Let's go! 24 Minutes Left!" He and Dan took off down the street with the other stampeding people.
Steven looked down at his watch. 19 *Minutes Left.* Everything felt like it was going in slow motion.
They continued to run as fast as they could. Arriving at a safe shelter with only 10 Minutes Left. They, and several other people were pulled inside. Before the doors slammed shut.
Steven watched as the time ticked down, *9 Minutes, 8 Minutes, 7 Minutes, 6 Minutes, 5 Minutes, 4 Minutes, 3 Minutes, 2 Minutes, 1 Minute...* And then the time was over. Those outside began screaming, the shrill screams echoed through the town.
Strangely, Steven noticed. It seemed like none of the people in the shelter reacted. Strangely, the people's screams died out quickly and no noise could be heard.
Until the screams started up again. But then, the sound of panicking and running people could also be heard along with more screams... but these... these seemed inhuman... and suddenly...
To his horror, Steven realized that these screams were coming from inside the shelter... these inhuman screams...
Then, as if mechanically all the towns people, including Dan. Stumbled towards him, their steps strange and uneven. Like their legs were two different sizes.
They let out more screams as they began to converge on him. Through the Moonlight Steven could see that something about them was beginning to change...
They were starting to look... furry... they looked like... wolves... The Moonlight shone off the slick, shiny coats of fur that had begun to cover their bodies as they hunched over...
That was it. The Moon, it was a full Moon... The screams turned to piercing howls. Steven gulped... What should he do?
He watched in horror and stunned silence as they converged on him. He opened his mouth to scream but no sound came out. Not that it would be heard over the howls anyway...
His body began to malfunction. Sweat poured down his forehead and tears stung his eyes. He thought about his wife, his daughter... And then everything went black... |
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