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[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I cannot say my name, for it contains a symbol OP will not allow today. I work in ab industry of advising folks who study and obtain loans for said studying. My job is okay, days go by and I think I would find joy in a job that has no angry folks to talk to, but my pay is good.
I am going to drink alcohol tonight and hang out with pals. | It's common to think out of normal constraints and find out that articulation is not as difficult out of box as i thought starting off on a paragraph blurb. Basically, my story is a story of typical shit, and typical days. My first and major passion is music and any sounds around us, you could say that I am always playing this or that. I also hold trips on back country road with lots of passion. It's cool to find original ways to various locations, navigating through unknown towns, or losing my way during a night along with any poor soul who is found riding shotgun. Books, films, typical mid-20s fandoms. You could say it's not an unusual story for most. I'm sorry. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I work with accounts and various financial stuff , I'm good at auditing, particularly looking for fraud transactions. I usually find Criminal Minds, Scrubs and Big Bang amusing. Podcast is amazing. I run for building up cardio and any workout is fun. | I'm always too cynical, I don't think I can actually do this tbh! What if I fuck it up? I'll try though, I totally should. Just don't shout things my way if it's not up to your standards, okay? I'm a bit of a pussy with handling criticism. So I was told. Okay, should just start finishing things up now, I'm basically just way too lazy for this kinda lark. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I find that such a difficult task is actually a way to polish your mind and as such I find tasks such as this amusing. In primary school I was always part of a group of smart kids and I always thought I had to work hard to stay that way, though work was loathing. This may sound contradictory to what I said but my point is that if I don't pick what I work on I will not work at full capacity. If it's a task for fun I will no doubt stay on it for hours with upmost joy. I wish to fix this lazy habit. I would no doubt surpass my skills and stand out in my job.
Holy shit that was difficult | I'm always too cynical, I don't think I can actually do this tbh! What if I fuck it up? I'll try though, I totally should. Just don't shout things my way if it's not up to your standards, okay? I'm a bit of a pussy with handling criticism. So I was told. Okay, should just start finishing things up now, I'm basically just way too lazy for this kinda lark. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Oh my God, why would I want to do a thing that stupid. It's not as if writing without using a particular symbol is hard.
What can I say , I am in Britain, I am a man, I occasionally do writing. | I'm always too cynical, I don't think I can actually do this tbh! What if I fuck it up? I'll try though, I totally should. Just don't shout things my way if it's not up to your standards, okay? I'm a bit of a pussy with handling criticism. So I was told. Okay, should just start finishing things up now, I'm basically just way too lazy for this kinda lark. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | This guy is good at work. Things occur that won't pass by without difficulty. Masturbation and playstation can hold a lot of options in using up his days. Consumption of snacks and drinks pass lips at customary hours. A standard human that can impart communications with public, family and chums in comfort. All said, a strong paradigm of masculinity. | I'm always too cynical, I don't think I can actually do this tbh! What if I fuck it up? I'll try though, I totally should. Just don't shout things my way if it's not up to your standards, okay? I'm a bit of a pussy with handling criticism. So I was told. Okay, should just start finishing things up now, I'm basically just way too lazy for this kinda lark. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I'm an attorn-- ... I'm a lawy-- ... I'm a couns-- ... I'm an advocat-- ...
I'm a law-talking guy. | I'm always too cynical, I don't think I can actually do this tbh! What if I fuck it up? I'll try though, I totally should. Just don't shout things my way if it's not up to your standards, okay? I'm a bit of a pussy with handling criticism. So I was told. Okay, should just start finishing things up now, I'm basically just way too lazy for this kinda lark. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Me? Well some tell me, "Dave, you're really terrible when understanding directions." Others tell me, "Listen, better comprehension needed." Yet people get irritated when events happen, censuring creativity, even ceasing the entire written desire once present. Very lame. | I'm always too cynical, I don't think I can actually do this tbh! What if I fuck it up? I'll try though, I totally should. Just don't shout things my way if it's not up to your standards, okay? I'm a bit of a pussy with handling criticism. So I was told. Okay, should just start finishing things up now, I'm basically just way too lazy for this kinda lark. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I was kind and calm in my childhood. I drank milk and biscuits. With my family I had an amazing upbringing. Now, I support my own family. I laugh, cry, play and draw. My family activity that I savour most is living with compassion and humour. Nothing in this world has a worth similar to family. Kin is akin to Nirvana. This is my philosophy. Words always fall short of stating how much joy my family brings. If only our world could stay conscious of what is important- family, compassion and kinship. My story had a fantastic start and I will part from this world with a calm spirit. Living with passion and sharing my humanity allows this.
Thanks for this opportunity. | I'm always too cynical, I don't think I can actually do this tbh! What if I fuck it up? I'll try though, I totally should. Just don't shout things my way if it's not up to your standards, okay? I'm a bit of a pussy with handling criticism. So I was told. Okay, should just start finishing things up now, I'm basically just way too lazy for this kinda lark. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Cynical about individuals, optimistic about humanity. Also, cats. | I'm always too cynical, I don't think I can actually do this tbh! What if I fuck it up? I'll try though, I totally should. Just don't shout things my way if it's not up to your standards, okay? I'm a bit of a pussy with handling criticism. So I was told. Okay, should just start finishing things up now, I'm basically just way too lazy for this kinda lark. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | But why? This is stupid. Why would I want to do this? If this ~~proves~~ shows anything, why would I want to show a random ~~collection~~... Fuck. bunch of ~~people~~ guys? Okay. Uh. ~~Maybe~~ ~~Perhaps~~ Fuuuuck. This may try my skills.
Okay. ~~Whatever~~ I'll try.
I'm ~~quite~~ kinda chill I think. I'm human. A chill human. I ~~spend~~ pass my hours with books, I cook now and again. I favour coca cola to ~~pepsi~~ fuuuuckk. to most cooldrinks, as would any normal ~~person~~ ~~being~~ ~~creature~~ thing. *Fuck*
Fuck you OP this is hard. Fuck you and your mom. | I'm always too cynical, I don't think I can actually do this tbh! What if I fuck it up? I'll try though, I totally should. Just don't shout things my way if it's not up to your standards, okay? I'm a bit of a pussy with handling criticism. So I was told. Okay, should just start finishing things up now, I'm basically just way too lazy for this kinda lark. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I find that such a difficult task is actually a way to polish your mind and as such I find tasks such as this amusing. In primary school I was always part of a group of smart kids and I always thought I had to work hard to stay that way, though work was loathing. This may sound contradictory to what I said but my point is that if I don't pick what I work on I will not work at full capacity. If it's a task for fun I will no doubt stay on it for hours with upmost joy. I wish to fix this lazy habit. I would no doubt surpass my skills and stand out in my job.
Holy shit that was difficult | It's not as if I'm an unkind soul, it's just that from about six by two full orbits of Sol onwards I was simply sick of it all. Although not outwardly disdainful, a painful lump of cynicism burnt hotly within. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I'm an attorn-- ... I'm a lawy-- ... I'm a couns-- ... I'm an advocat-- ...
I'm a law-talking guy. | It's not as if I'm an unkind soul, it's just that from about six by two full orbits of Sol onwards I was simply sick of it all. Although not outwardly disdainful, a painful lump of cynicism burnt hotly within. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Me? Well some tell me, "Dave, you're really terrible when understanding directions." Others tell me, "Listen, better comprehension needed." Yet people get irritated when events happen, censuring creativity, even ceasing the entire written desire once present. Very lame. | It's not as if I'm an unkind soul, it's just that from about six by two full orbits of Sol onwards I was simply sick of it all. Although not outwardly disdainful, a painful lump of cynicism burnt hotly within. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I was kind and calm in my childhood. I drank milk and biscuits. With my family I had an amazing upbringing. Now, I support my own family. I laugh, cry, play and draw. My family activity that I savour most is living with compassion and humour. Nothing in this world has a worth similar to family. Kin is akin to Nirvana. This is my philosophy. Words always fall short of stating how much joy my family brings. If only our world could stay conscious of what is important- family, compassion and kinship. My story had a fantastic start and I will part from this world with a calm spirit. Living with passion and sharing my humanity allows this.
Thanks for this opportunity. | It's not as if I'm an unkind soul, it's just that from about six by two full orbits of Sol onwards I was simply sick of it all. Although not outwardly disdainful, a painful lump of cynicism burnt hotly within. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I'm an attorn-- ... I'm a lawy-- ... I'm a couns-- ... I'm an advocat-- ...
I'm a law-talking guy. | I am a husband and a dad. I work in IT for a global car company and am also an aspiring politician.
I also play drums and do martial arts to stay fit and unwind. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Me? Well some tell me, "Dave, you're really terrible when understanding directions." Others tell me, "Listen, better comprehension needed." Yet people get irritated when events happen, censuring creativity, even ceasing the entire written desire once present. Very lame. | I am a husband and a dad. I work in IT for a global car company and am also an aspiring politician.
I also play drums and do martial arts to stay fit and unwind. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I was kind and calm in my childhood. I drank milk and biscuits. With my family I had an amazing upbringing. Now, I support my own family. I laugh, cry, play and draw. My family activity that I savour most is living with compassion and humour. Nothing in this world has a worth similar to family. Kin is akin to Nirvana. This is my philosophy. Words always fall short of stating how much joy my family brings. If only our world could stay conscious of what is important- family, compassion and kinship. My story had a fantastic start and I will part from this world with a calm spirit. Living with passion and sharing my humanity allows this.
Thanks for this opportunity. | I am a husband and a dad. I work in IT for a global car company and am also an aspiring politician.
I also play drums and do martial arts to stay fit and unwind. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I'm an attorn-- ... I'm a lawy-- ... I'm a couns-- ... I'm an advocat-- ...
I'm a law-talking guy. | I am thought of by most as small, but in my mind, I am big. I run big. I think big. I clarify big facts. I craft big myths. I find big innovations. My soul is big, and if it but had an opportunity, it could touch infinity. If I could but match my body to my spirit, all would know who I am within. For now, though, my body is my prison, closing in tight around my soul and stopping humanity from looking in, and I am but small. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Me? Well some tell me, "Dave, you're really terrible when understanding directions." Others tell me, "Listen, better comprehension needed." Yet people get irritated when events happen, censuring creativity, even ceasing the entire written desire once present. Very lame. | I am thought of by most as small, but in my mind, I am big. I run big. I think big. I clarify big facts. I craft big myths. I find big innovations. My soul is big, and if it but had an opportunity, it could touch infinity. If I could but match my body to my spirit, all would know who I am within. For now, though, my body is my prison, closing in tight around my soul and stopping humanity from looking in, and I am but small. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I was kind and calm in my childhood. I drank milk and biscuits. With my family I had an amazing upbringing. Now, I support my own family. I laugh, cry, play and draw. My family activity that I savour most is living with compassion and humour. Nothing in this world has a worth similar to family. Kin is akin to Nirvana. This is my philosophy. Words always fall short of stating how much joy my family brings. If only our world could stay conscious of what is important- family, compassion and kinship. My story had a fantastic start and I will part from this world with a calm spirit. Living with passion and sharing my humanity allows this.
Thanks for this opportunity. | I am thought of by most as small, but in my mind, I am big. I run big. I think big. I clarify big facts. I craft big myths. I find big innovations. My soul is big, and if it but had an opportunity, it could touch infinity. If I could but match my body to my spirit, all would know who I am within. For now, though, my body is my prison, closing in tight around my soul and stopping humanity from looking in, and I am but small. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I'm an attorn-- ... I'm a lawy-- ... I'm a couns-- ... I'm an advocat-- ...
I'm a law-talking guy. | Hi pal, I'm Jack. I go to school and study ways to apply math and physics to worldly issues. I am a participant on my school's track squad - I only do high jump and long jump. I'm a big dork; I do math willingly, only play classical music, and I don't go out and party. I am very happy with how I'm doing and I wouldn't modify anything. Also, I think Gatsby is an amazing book. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Me? Well some tell me, "Dave, you're really terrible when understanding directions." Others tell me, "Listen, better comprehension needed." Yet people get irritated when events happen, censuring creativity, even ceasing the entire written desire once present. Very lame. | Hi pal, I'm Jack. I go to school and study ways to apply math and physics to worldly issues. I am a participant on my school's track squad - I only do high jump and long jump. I'm a big dork; I do math willingly, only play classical music, and I don't go out and party. I am very happy with how I'm doing and I wouldn't modify anything. Also, I think Gatsby is an amazing book. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I was kind and calm in my childhood. I drank milk and biscuits. With my family I had an amazing upbringing. Now, I support my own family. I laugh, cry, play and draw. My family activity that I savour most is living with compassion and humour. Nothing in this world has a worth similar to family. Kin is akin to Nirvana. This is my philosophy. Words always fall short of stating how much joy my family brings. If only our world could stay conscious of what is important- family, compassion and kinship. My story had a fantastic start and I will part from this world with a calm spirit. Living with passion and sharing my humanity allows this.
Thanks for this opportunity. | Hi pal, I'm Jack. I go to school and study ways to apply math and physics to worldly issues. I am a participant on my school's track squad - I only do high jump and long jump. I'm a big dork; I do math willingly, only play classical music, and I don't go out and party. I am very happy with how I'm doing and I wouldn't modify anything. Also, I think Gatsby is an amazing book. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Me? Well some tell me, "Dave, you're really terrible when understanding directions." Others tell me, "Listen, better comprehension needed." Yet people get irritated when events happen, censuring creativity, even ceasing the entire written desire once present. Very lame. | I am an actor of the lady-sort. My craft is my passion. I also obtain joy from knitting, baking, trivia night with my boy, and marathon-watching that show with another lady actor, Ms. Graham, in which quirky words flow from mom to kid, Rory, in a quaint town up north in the US.
(Jeez it's hard to describe Gilmore Girls without an E) | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Me? Well some tell me, "Dave, you're really terrible when understanding directions." Others tell me, "Listen, better comprehension needed." Yet people get irritated when events happen, censuring creativity, even ceasing the entire written desire once present. Very lame. | I'm not good at living. I try hard but accomplish nothing. To most I am not worth anything. I am living solo for all my days. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Me? Well some tell me, "Dave, you're really terrible when understanding directions." Others tell me, "Listen, better comprehension needed." Yet people get irritated when events happen, censuring creativity, even ceasing the entire written desire once present. Very lame. | I was, against my will, in a city as cold and dark as my soul could stand. So not too long ago, I put my things in two gigantic bags and took a flight to California, with no plan to go back. Now and again I miss my family and all my old buds. But obviously this is amazing. I found a job. I bought a car. I can run along Pacific sands any morning, any night. But I know a part of who I am had to stay in Boston, and should I go back, I know I will find it waiting--still cold, still dark, still haunting and saving my world. I will still root for my Pats. And the Sox. Always. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Me? Well some tell me, "Dave, you're really terrible when understanding directions." Others tell me, "Listen, better comprehension needed." Yet people get irritated when events happen, censuring creativity, even ceasing the entire written desire once present. Very lame. | "I always start off alright; it always turns out that I'm incapable." | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I find that such a difficult task is actually a way to polish your mind and as such I find tasks such as this amusing. In primary school I was always part of a group of smart kids and I always thought I had to work hard to stay that way, though work was loathing. This may sound contradictory to what I said but my point is that if I don't pick what I work on I will not work at full capacity. If it's a task for fun I will no doubt stay on it for hours with upmost joy. I wish to fix this lazy habit. I would no doubt surpass my skills and stand out in my job.
Holy shit that was difficult | I work with accounts and various financial stuff , I'm good at auditing, particularly looking for fraud transactions. I usually find Criminal Minds, Scrubs and Big Bang amusing. Podcast is amazing. I run for building up cardio and any workout is fun. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I'm an attorn-- ... I'm a lawy-- ... I'm a couns-- ... I'm an advocat-- ...
I'm a law-talking guy. | I work with accounts and various financial stuff , I'm good at auditing, particularly looking for fraud transactions. I usually find Criminal Minds, Scrubs and Big Bang amusing. Podcast is amazing. I run for building up cardio and any workout is fun. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Me? Well some tell me, "Dave, you're really terrible when understanding directions." Others tell me, "Listen, better comprehension needed." Yet people get irritated when events happen, censuring creativity, even ceasing the entire written desire once present. Very lame. | I work with accounts and various financial stuff , I'm good at auditing, particularly looking for fraud transactions. I usually find Criminal Minds, Scrubs and Big Bang amusing. Podcast is amazing. I run for building up cardio and any workout is fun. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I was kind and calm in my childhood. I drank milk and biscuits. With my family I had an amazing upbringing. Now, I support my own family. I laugh, cry, play and draw. My family activity that I savour most is living with compassion and humour. Nothing in this world has a worth similar to family. Kin is akin to Nirvana. This is my philosophy. Words always fall short of stating how much joy my family brings. If only our world could stay conscious of what is important- family, compassion and kinship. My story had a fantastic start and I will part from this world with a calm spirit. Living with passion and sharing my humanity allows this.
Thanks for this opportunity. | I work with accounts and various financial stuff , I'm good at auditing, particularly looking for fraud transactions. I usually find Criminal Minds, Scrubs and Big Bang amusing. Podcast is amazing. I run for building up cardio and any workout is fun. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I'm an attorn-- ... I'm a lawy-- ... I'm a couns-- ... I'm an advocat-- ...
I'm a law-talking guy. | I find that such a difficult task is actually a way to polish your mind and as such I find tasks such as this amusing. In primary school I was always part of a group of smart kids and I always thought I had to work hard to stay that way, though work was loathing. This may sound contradictory to what I said but my point is that if I don't pick what I work on I will not work at full capacity. If it's a task for fun I will no doubt stay on it for hours with upmost joy. I wish to fix this lazy habit. I would no doubt surpass my skills and stand out in my job.
Holy shit that was difficult | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Me? Well some tell me, "Dave, you're really terrible when understanding directions." Others tell me, "Listen, better comprehension needed." Yet people get irritated when events happen, censuring creativity, even ceasing the entire written desire once present. Very lame. | I find that such a difficult task is actually a way to polish your mind and as such I find tasks such as this amusing. In primary school I was always part of a group of smart kids and I always thought I had to work hard to stay that way, though work was loathing. This may sound contradictory to what I said but my point is that if I don't pick what I work on I will not work at full capacity. If it's a task for fun I will no doubt stay on it for hours with upmost joy. I wish to fix this lazy habit. I would no doubt surpass my skills and stand out in my job.
Holy shit that was difficult | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I was kind and calm in my childhood. I drank milk and biscuits. With my family I had an amazing upbringing. Now, I support my own family. I laugh, cry, play and draw. My family activity that I savour most is living with compassion and humour. Nothing in this world has a worth similar to family. Kin is akin to Nirvana. This is my philosophy. Words always fall short of stating how much joy my family brings. If only our world could stay conscious of what is important- family, compassion and kinship. My story had a fantastic start and I will part from this world with a calm spirit. Living with passion and sharing my humanity allows this.
Thanks for this opportunity. | I find that such a difficult task is actually a way to polish your mind and as such I find tasks such as this amusing. In primary school I was always part of a group of smart kids and I always thought I had to work hard to stay that way, though work was loathing. This may sound contradictory to what I said but my point is that if I don't pick what I work on I will not work at full capacity. If it's a task for fun I will no doubt stay on it for hours with upmost joy. I wish to fix this lazy habit. I would no doubt surpass my skills and stand out in my job.
Holy shit that was difficult | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I'm an attorn-- ... I'm a lawy-- ... I'm a couns-- ... I'm an advocat-- ...
I'm a law-talking guy. | Oh my God, why would I want to do a thing that stupid. It's not as if writing without using a particular symbol is hard.
What can I say , I am in Britain, I am a man, I occasionally do writing. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Me? Well some tell me, "Dave, you're really terrible when understanding directions." Others tell me, "Listen, better comprehension needed." Yet people get irritated when events happen, censuring creativity, even ceasing the entire written desire once present. Very lame. | Oh my God, why would I want to do a thing that stupid. It's not as if writing without using a particular symbol is hard.
What can I say , I am in Britain, I am a man, I occasionally do writing. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I was kind and calm in my childhood. I drank milk and biscuits. With my family I had an amazing upbringing. Now, I support my own family. I laugh, cry, play and draw. My family activity that I savour most is living with compassion and humour. Nothing in this world has a worth similar to family. Kin is akin to Nirvana. This is my philosophy. Words always fall short of stating how much joy my family brings. If only our world could stay conscious of what is important- family, compassion and kinship. My story had a fantastic start and I will part from this world with a calm spirit. Living with passion and sharing my humanity allows this.
Thanks for this opportunity. | Oh my God, why would I want to do a thing that stupid. It's not as if writing without using a particular symbol is hard.
What can I say , I am in Britain, I am a man, I occasionally do writing. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Cynical about individuals, optimistic about humanity. Also, cats. | Oh my God, why would I want to do a thing that stupid. It's not as if writing without using a particular symbol is hard.
What can I say , I am in Britain, I am a man, I occasionally do writing. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | But why? This is stupid. Why would I want to do this? If this ~~proves~~ shows anything, why would I want to show a random ~~collection~~... Fuck. bunch of ~~people~~ guys? Okay. Uh. ~~Maybe~~ ~~Perhaps~~ Fuuuuck. This may try my skills.
Okay. ~~Whatever~~ I'll try.
I'm ~~quite~~ kinda chill I think. I'm human. A chill human. I ~~spend~~ pass my hours with books, I cook now and again. I favour coca cola to ~~pepsi~~ fuuuuckk. to most cooldrinks, as would any normal ~~person~~ ~~being~~ ~~creature~~ thing. *Fuck*
Fuck you OP this is hard. Fuck you and your mom. | Oh my God, why would I want to do a thing that stupid. It's not as if writing without using a particular symbol is hard.
What can I say , I am in Britain, I am a man, I occasionally do writing. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | This guy is good at work. Things occur that won't pass by without difficulty. Masturbation and playstation can hold a lot of options in using up his days. Consumption of snacks and drinks pass lips at customary hours. A standard human that can impart communications with public, family and chums in comfort. All said, a strong paradigm of masculinity. | I'm a high school instructor and am raising 3 kids with Krissy. I coach hoops at my high school and run a lot. I did two marathons in 2014. I am fond of trivia, sports, and a good IPA. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I'm an attorn-- ... I'm a lawy-- ... I'm a couns-- ... I'm an advocat-- ...
I'm a law-talking guy. | I'm a high school instructor and am raising 3 kids with Krissy. I coach hoops at my high school and run a lot. I did two marathons in 2014. I am fond of trivia, sports, and a good IPA. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Me? Well some tell me, "Dave, you're really terrible when understanding directions." Others tell me, "Listen, better comprehension needed." Yet people get irritated when events happen, censuring creativity, even ceasing the entire written desire once present. Very lame. | I'm a high school instructor and am raising 3 kids with Krissy. I coach hoops at my high school and run a lot. I did two marathons in 2014. I am fond of trivia, sports, and a good IPA. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I was kind and calm in my childhood. I drank milk and biscuits. With my family I had an amazing upbringing. Now, I support my own family. I laugh, cry, play and draw. My family activity that I savour most is living with compassion and humour. Nothing in this world has a worth similar to family. Kin is akin to Nirvana. This is my philosophy. Words always fall short of stating how much joy my family brings. If only our world could stay conscious of what is important- family, compassion and kinship. My story had a fantastic start and I will part from this world with a calm spirit. Living with passion and sharing my humanity allows this.
Thanks for this opportunity. | I'm a high school instructor and am raising 3 kids with Krissy. I coach hoops at my high school and run a lot. I did two marathons in 2014. I am fond of trivia, sports, and a good IPA. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Cynical about individuals, optimistic about humanity. Also, cats. | I'm a high school instructor and am raising 3 kids with Krissy. I coach hoops at my high school and run a lot. I did two marathons in 2014. I am fond of trivia, sports, and a good IPA. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I am a dad to two kids. My sport passion is disc golf. I also run daily and lift. My job is journalism. I work in print mostly, though I also publish on blogs and stuff. Usually my writing has flow, but this paragraph will not. | I'm a high school instructor and am raising 3 kids with Krissy. I coach hoops at my high school and run a lot. I did two marathons in 2014. I am fond of trivia, sports, and a good IPA. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | But why? This is stupid. Why would I want to do this? If this ~~proves~~ shows anything, why would I want to show a random ~~collection~~... Fuck. bunch of ~~people~~ guys? Okay. Uh. ~~Maybe~~ ~~Perhaps~~ Fuuuuck. This may try my skills.
Okay. ~~Whatever~~ I'll try.
I'm ~~quite~~ kinda chill I think. I'm human. A chill human. I ~~spend~~ pass my hours with books, I cook now and again. I favour coca cola to ~~pepsi~~ fuuuuckk. to most cooldrinks, as would any normal ~~person~~ ~~being~~ ~~creature~~ thing. *Fuck*
Fuck you OP this is hard. Fuck you and your mom. | I'm a high school instructor and am raising 3 kids with Krissy. I coach hoops at my high school and run a lot. I did two marathons in 2014. I am fond of trivia, sports, and a good IPA. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I am proud to say I am skillful at navigating around constraints such as this. I always think about what I must say prior to articulation, and I casually apply big words to situations that don't call for such loquacity. I am a total dork with a hard-on for words. Today is also my birthday. | I'm a high school instructor and am raising 3 kids with Krissy. I coach hoops at my high school and run a lot. I did two marathons in 2014. I am fond of trivia, sports, and a good IPA. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Me? Well some tell me, "Dave, you're really terrible when understanding directions." Others tell me, "Listen, better comprehension needed." Yet people get irritated when events happen, censuring creativity, even ceasing the entire written desire once present. Very lame. | This guy is good at work. Things occur that won't pass by without difficulty. Masturbation and playstation can hold a lot of options in using up his days. Consumption of snacks and drinks pass lips at customary hours. A standard human that can impart communications with public, family and chums in comfort. All said, a strong paradigm of masculinity. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I was kind and calm in my childhood. I drank milk and biscuits. With my family I had an amazing upbringing. Now, I support my own family. I laugh, cry, play and draw. My family activity that I savour most is living with compassion and humour. Nothing in this world has a worth similar to family. Kin is akin to Nirvana. This is my philosophy. Words always fall short of stating how much joy my family brings. If only our world could stay conscious of what is important- family, compassion and kinship. My story had a fantastic start and I will part from this world with a calm spirit. Living with passion and sharing my humanity allows this.
Thanks for this opportunity. | This guy is good at work. Things occur that won't pass by without difficulty. Masturbation and playstation can hold a lot of options in using up his days. Consumption of snacks and drinks pass lips at customary hours. A standard human that can impart communications with public, family and chums in comfort. All said, a strong paradigm of masculinity. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Cynical about individuals, optimistic about humanity. Also, cats. | This guy is good at work. Things occur that won't pass by without difficulty. Masturbation and playstation can hold a lot of options in using up his days. Consumption of snacks and drinks pass lips at customary hours. A standard human that can impart communications with public, family and chums in comfort. All said, a strong paradigm of masculinity. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | But why? This is stupid. Why would I want to do this? If this ~~proves~~ shows anything, why would I want to show a random ~~collection~~... Fuck. bunch of ~~people~~ guys? Okay. Uh. ~~Maybe~~ ~~Perhaps~~ Fuuuuck. This may try my skills.
Okay. ~~Whatever~~ I'll try.
I'm ~~quite~~ kinda chill I think. I'm human. A chill human. I ~~spend~~ pass my hours with books, I cook now and again. I favour coca cola to ~~pepsi~~ fuuuuckk. to most cooldrinks, as would any normal ~~person~~ ~~being~~ ~~creature~~ thing. *Fuck*
Fuck you OP this is hard. Fuck you and your mom. | This guy is good at work. Things occur that won't pass by without difficulty. Masturbation and playstation can hold a lot of options in using up his days. Consumption of snacks and drinks pass lips at customary hours. A standard human that can impart communications with public, family and chums in comfort. All said, a strong paradigm of masculinity. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Me? Well some tell me, "Dave, you're really terrible when understanding directions." Others tell me, "Listen, better comprehension needed." Yet people get irritated when events happen, censuring creativity, even ceasing the entire written desire once present. Very lame. | I'm an attorn-- ... I'm a lawy-- ... I'm a couns-- ... I'm an advocat-- ...
I'm a law-talking guy. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Cynical about individuals, optimistic about humanity. Also, cats. | I am an amazing human who don't want no man. I am also a man. I, too, am high. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I am a dad to two kids. My sport passion is disc golf. I also run daily and lift. My job is journalism. I work in print mostly, though I also publish on blogs and stuff. Usually my writing has flow, but this paragraph will not. | I am an amazing human who don't want no man. I am also a man. I, too, am high. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | But why? This is stupid. Why would I want to do this? If this ~~proves~~ shows anything, why would I want to show a random ~~collection~~... Fuck. bunch of ~~people~~ guys? Okay. Uh. ~~Maybe~~ ~~Perhaps~~ Fuuuuck. This may try my skills.
Okay. ~~Whatever~~ I'll try.
I'm ~~quite~~ kinda chill I think. I'm human. A chill human. I ~~spend~~ pass my hours with books, I cook now and again. I favour coca cola to ~~pepsi~~ fuuuuckk. to most cooldrinks, as would any normal ~~person~~ ~~being~~ ~~creature~~ thing. *Fuck*
Fuck you OP this is hard. Fuck you and your mom. | I am an amazing human who don't want no man. I am also a man. I, too, am high. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I am proud to say I am skillful at navigating around constraints such as this. I always think about what I must say prior to articulation, and I casually apply big words to situations that don't call for such loquacity. I am a total dork with a hard-on for words. Today is also my birthday. | I am an amazing human who don't want no man. I am also a man. I, too, am high. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | But why? This is stupid. Why would I want to do this? If this ~~proves~~ shows anything, why would I want to show a random ~~collection~~... Fuck. bunch of ~~people~~ guys? Okay. Uh. ~~Maybe~~ ~~Perhaps~~ Fuuuuck. This may try my skills.
Okay. ~~Whatever~~ I'll try.
I'm ~~quite~~ kinda chill I think. I'm human. A chill human. I ~~spend~~ pass my hours with books, I cook now and again. I favour coca cola to ~~pepsi~~ fuuuuckk. to most cooldrinks, as would any normal ~~person~~ ~~being~~ ~~creature~~ thing. *Fuck*
Fuck you OP this is hard. Fuck you and your mom. | Cynical about individuals, optimistic about humanity. Also, cats. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | But why? This is stupid. Why would I want to do this? If this ~~proves~~ shows anything, why would I want to show a random ~~collection~~... Fuck. bunch of ~~people~~ guys? Okay. Uh. ~~Maybe~~ ~~Perhaps~~ Fuuuuck. This may try my skills.
Okay. ~~Whatever~~ I'll try.
I'm ~~quite~~ kinda chill I think. I'm human. A chill human. I ~~spend~~ pass my hours with books, I cook now and again. I favour coca cola to ~~pepsi~~ fuuuuckk. to most cooldrinks, as would any normal ~~person~~ ~~being~~ ~~creature~~ thing. *Fuck*
Fuck you OP this is hard. Fuck you and your mom. | I am a dad to two kids. My sport passion is disc golf. I also run daily and lift. My job is journalism. I work in print mostly, though I also publish on blogs and stuff. Usually my writing has flow, but this paragraph will not. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I am proud to say I am skillful at navigating around constraints such as this. I always think about what I must say prior to articulation, and I casually apply big words to situations that don't call for such loquacity. I am a total dork with a hard-on for words. Today is also my birthday. | I am a dad to two kids. My sport passion is disc golf. I also run daily and lift. My job is journalism. I work in print mostly, though I also publish on blogs and stuff. Usually my writing has flow, but this paragraph will not. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I am proud to say I am skillful at navigating around constraints such as this. I always think about what I must say prior to articulation, and I casually apply big words to situations that don't call for such loquacity. I am a total dork with a hard-on for words. Today is also my birthday. | I swallow food. I only drink fanta. I jack off a lot. I nap. I play xbox. I fuck your mom. Sorry. I am high. Thank you. | |
[WP] You are granted three wishes. For your first wish, you wish for all the evil, hateful, wrong-doing, scumbags on this earth to wiped out. You start to feel a small pain in your chest. | Driving home after a particularly rough day of work, Jeffrey Sweeney couldn't be blamed for considering just driving past the hitchhiker standing outside the corner Rite-Aid. This wasn't in his character, though, Mr. Sweeney would do whatever he could to help his fellow man. The hitchhiker identifies himself as Richard Skinner, not the kind of name you want to hear a stranger in your car say, but Sweeney is not your ordinary judgmental individual.
"Where do you need to get to?" Jeffrey poses, "Hopefully I can be of some use."
"Oh, just take me as far west as you are going, that should be plenty good enough."
"I can do at least that, but where are you going?"
"Just trying to get home..." Richards chokes, "It's been too long."
Sweeney can see the pain in Mr. Skinner's face, he clearly had been through much. He could never bare to see someone go through this kind of pain and decided to remain silent for the remainder of the drive. When it came time to finally drop off Mr. Skinner, Sweeney had resolved to help as much as he could. He pulled out his wallet and offered all of the $287 in his possession. Richard immediately fell to his knees sobbing, but refused to take the money for nothing. Instead he insisted that Sweeney take his old family heirloom, a necklace with three pearlescent stones, as a trade.
"This necklace has powers, wish granting in fact." Richard claimed, "Don't look at me like I'm mad, I know it works, it is why I'm going home now. Just... be careful what you wish for."
Sweeney didn't trust in Richard's claims, but didn't want to insult him and accepted the trade. He then continued on his drive home.
Jeffrey sat on his couch watching CNN, when he hears a whisper no louder than a breeze, "What does your heart desire?" Richard froze in place, could someone have broken into his house or was someone just messing with him -- possibly the delinquent teenager living next door. His heart is racing with fear, but he tries to talk himself out of it. As he begins to rise to investigate the sound, an intense burning radiates from his pocket. Out of it he retrieves that old necklace. "Impossible, I'd have to be crazy to believe this could be magically speaking to me."
"Make your first wish, whatever you desire." The stones seem to hiss out the words.
"I should really get some sleep. Well, I mean, what can it hurt to try. I wish all the evil, hateful, wrong-doing, scumbags on this earth would be wiped out." *At least this could help mankind if it works.* A stone cracks.
With the passing of this thought Jeffrey begins to notice a tingling in his chest. At first a tickle, then a tightness. *What is happening to me.*He's frantic now. Terrified. *Could this be the result of my wish? No. I'm a good person. Maybe I was too broad and no one could be that perfect. Maybe the whole world is suffering. I must stop this.* "I wish my first wish was changed to only affect the worst people in the world, like the truly evil. The worst ten percent." A second stone breaks.
Suddenly the tightness in his chest begins to burn. It has spread from his chest to his neck and arms. A fiery blaze each breath feeding the flames.
*How could I be this bad. So much worst than everyone else.* His mind begins to recall every wrongdoing -- every person he's hurt, those he's ignored, those he's insulted. *Maybe I am a terrible person, I must deserve to die. I must be part of the worst ten percent. Maybe the world would be better without me. I should just let this wish kill me* "Just tell me... Why? I wish you would tell me why I am dying!!! What makes me so bad?"
The third stone fractures. Jeffrey Sweeney takes his last breathe and hears, "You are only having a heart attack." | Flat on the ground. My back arcing upwards in agony. Dyin' sure makes ya' think.
This is what I'd wanted, I guess. This what I deserve. I see all those around me on the ground too, rolling around in the dirt. I'm faint now, but I think I see a little kid staring at us far on the horizon. Really hope, wish the kid wasn't there.
Course there I go, wishing again. That's the funny thing about it though. Wish all you want, don't make nothin' you want come true. Before I came here I used to think we was wish fulfillment incarnate: that we stood for somethin'--that we was there to end hatred, suffering.
I realize now that all of us, we was all told the same thing. We were to be eradicatin' evil, bringin' justice to the unjust. Bottom line that WE wasn't evil or no WE weren't no scumbags. Wish I could believe that.
War, now there's a cruel joke. For the greater good, that's an even better one. Back home I was told war makes a boy a man. After today though, I don't think there's gonna be many men left.
In the end, nothin' else to this world but wishin' and dyin'. Maybe I'll wish for just one more wish. | |
[WP] You are granted three wishes. For your first wish, you wish for all the evil, hateful, wrong-doing, scumbags on this earth to wiped out. You start to feel a small pain in your chest. | He felt himself winding down, like a wind up toy that was about to stop.
"What happened?" he asked the smiling golden skinned may he had rescued.
"I am honoring you wish." The smile never left the mans lips.
"But why me? I have never harmed anyone." Tom was on his knees now and could barely raise his arms.
"You just wished for all the evil, hateful, wrong-doing, scumbags on this earth to be wiped out. " The golden skinned man now stood over Tom's collapsed form.
"Do you know how may peoples lives are ending right at this moment? There are cars careening through traffic, airplanes falling from the skies."
"Your wish is taking so many lives. Both those that deserve and those that don't. That would seem to be evil to me."
"That was the first thing you could think of to wish, to eliminate so many people. You could have wished for anything your heart desires and mass deaths were your choice. That is hateful"
"You din't ask for people to be better, you asked for them to be wiped out. That would be wrong, not allowing people to change."
"Wishing something like that without thinking of the circumstances, that would make you a 'scumbag' in many peoples view."
With his last breath, Tom said "I wish this never happened." | Flat on the ground. My back arcing upwards in agony. Dyin' sure makes ya' think.
This is what I'd wanted, I guess. This what I deserve. I see all those around me on the ground too, rolling around in the dirt. I'm faint now, but I think I see a little kid staring at us far on the horizon. Really hope, wish the kid wasn't there.
Course there I go, wishing again. That's the funny thing about it though. Wish all you want, don't make nothin' you want come true. Before I came here I used to think we was wish fulfillment incarnate: that we stood for somethin'--that we was there to end hatred, suffering.
I realize now that all of us, we was all told the same thing. We were to be eradicatin' evil, bringin' justice to the unjust. Bottom line that WE wasn't evil or no WE weren't no scumbags. Wish I could believe that.
War, now there's a cruel joke. For the greater good, that's an even better one. Back home I was told war makes a boy a man. After today though, I don't think there's gonna be many men left.
In the end, nothin' else to this world but wishin' and dyin'. Maybe I'll wish for just one more wish. | |
[WP] You are granted three wishes. For your first wish, you wish for all the evil, hateful, wrong-doing, scumbags on this earth to wiped out. You start to feel a small pain in your chest. | He felt himself winding down, like a wind up toy that was about to stop.
"What happened?" he asked the smiling golden skinned may he had rescued.
"I am honoring you wish." The smile never left the mans lips.
"But why me? I have never harmed anyone." Tom was on his knees now and could barely raise his arms.
"You just wished for all the evil, hateful, wrong-doing, scumbags on this earth to be wiped out. " The golden skinned man now stood over Tom's collapsed form.
"Do you know how may peoples lives are ending right at this moment? There are cars careening through traffic, airplanes falling from the skies."
"Your wish is taking so many lives. Both those that deserve and those that don't. That would seem to be evil to me."
"That was the first thing you could think of to wish, to eliminate so many people. You could have wished for anything your heart desires and mass deaths were your choice. That is hateful"
"You din't ask for people to be better, you asked for them to be wiped out. That would be wrong, not allowing people to change."
"Wishing something like that without thinking of the circumstances, that would make you a 'scumbag' in many peoples view."
With his last breath, Tom said "I wish this never happened." | "I'm sorry, but I cannot alter a previous wish."
"What do you mean?" I shouted.
"Do you truly wish to know?" Said the genie. Her words infuriated me.
"Yes." The word slipped through; breaking the silent tension.
"It was previously wished that all humans would live mortal lives, you were quite the primitive species at the time, but oh you were violent."
She pause and took in a wisp of air; did she even need to breathe? Was she delaying just to annoy me? My face warmed; my fists clenched.
"The... others... knew their species was doomed to extinction after they witnessed your lust for blood, your.... feral nature. One of the last of their kind stumble upon me. I don't know exactly how but no matter. In his suffering he wished me to curse your species with morality, so that you would never live long enough to... well... no matter... I no longer feel inclined to divulge further."
"TELL ME!" I boomed.
The genie smirked, "What do you wish to know my dear."
"I wish to understand everything that happened that day! I wish for you to show me what happened."
"Very well."
My chest seized and my body collapsed to the ground. The genie seemingly delighted looked me in the eye, and wrapped her arm around mine.
"Let us go on a journey so that I may show you what happened."
| |
[WP] You are granted three wishes. For your first wish, you wish for all the evil, hateful, wrong-doing, scumbags on this earth to wiped out. You start to feel a small pain in your chest. | He felt himself winding down, like a wind up toy that was about to stop.
"What happened?" he asked the smiling golden skinned may he had rescued.
"I am honoring you wish." The smile never left the mans lips.
"But why me? I have never harmed anyone." Tom was on his knees now and could barely raise his arms.
"You just wished for all the evil, hateful, wrong-doing, scumbags on this earth to be wiped out. " The golden skinned man now stood over Tom's collapsed form.
"Do you know how may peoples lives are ending right at this moment? There are cars careening through traffic, airplanes falling from the skies."
"Your wish is taking so many lives. Both those that deserve and those that don't. That would seem to be evil to me."
"That was the first thing you could think of to wish, to eliminate so many people. You could have wished for anything your heart desires and mass deaths were your choice. That is hateful"
"You din't ask for people to be better, you asked for them to be wiped out. That would be wrong, not allowing people to change."
"Wishing something like that without thinking of the circumstances, that would make you a 'scumbag' in many peoples view."
With his last breath, Tom said "I wish this never happened." | Driving home after a particularly rough day of work, Jeffrey Sweeney couldn't be blamed for considering just driving past the hitchhiker standing outside the corner Rite-Aid. This wasn't in his character, though, Mr. Sweeney would do whatever he could to help his fellow man. The hitchhiker identifies himself as Richard Skinner, not the kind of name you want to hear a stranger in your car say, but Sweeney is not your ordinary judgmental individual.
"Where do you need to get to?" Jeffrey poses, "Hopefully I can be of some use."
"Oh, just take me as far west as you are going, that should be plenty good enough."
"I can do at least that, but where are you going?"
"Just trying to get home..." Richards chokes, "It's been too long."
Sweeney can see the pain in Mr. Skinner's face, he clearly had been through much. He could never bare to see someone go through this kind of pain and decided to remain silent for the remainder of the drive. When it came time to finally drop off Mr. Skinner, Sweeney had resolved to help as much as he could. He pulled out his wallet and offered all of the $287 in his possession. Richard immediately fell to his knees sobbing, but refused to take the money for nothing. Instead he insisted that Sweeney take his old family heirloom, a necklace with three pearlescent stones, as a trade.
"This necklace has powers, wish granting in fact." Richard claimed, "Don't look at me like I'm mad, I know it works, it is why I'm going home now. Just... be careful what you wish for."
Sweeney didn't trust in Richard's claims, but didn't want to insult him and accepted the trade. He then continued on his drive home.
Jeffrey sat on his couch watching CNN, when he hears a whisper no louder than a breeze, "What does your heart desire?" Richard froze in place, could someone have broken into his house or was someone just messing with him -- possibly the delinquent teenager living next door. His heart is racing with fear, but he tries to talk himself out of it. As he begins to rise to investigate the sound, an intense burning radiates from his pocket. Out of it he retrieves that old necklace. "Impossible, I'd have to be crazy to believe this could be magically speaking to me."
"Make your first wish, whatever you desire." The stones seem to hiss out the words.
"I should really get some sleep. Well, I mean, what can it hurt to try. I wish all the evil, hateful, wrong-doing, scumbags on this earth would be wiped out." *At least this could help mankind if it works.* A stone cracks.
With the passing of this thought Jeffrey begins to notice a tingling in his chest. At first a tickle, then a tightness. *What is happening to me.*He's frantic now. Terrified. *Could this be the result of my wish? No. I'm a good person. Maybe I was too broad and no one could be that perfect. Maybe the whole world is suffering. I must stop this.* "I wish my first wish was changed to only affect the worst people in the world, like the truly evil. The worst ten percent." A second stone breaks.
Suddenly the tightness in his chest begins to burn. It has spread from his chest to his neck and arms. A fiery blaze each breath feeding the flames.
*How could I be this bad. So much worst than everyone else.* His mind begins to recall every wrongdoing -- every person he's hurt, those he's ignored, those he's insulted. *Maybe I am a terrible person, I must deserve to die. I must be part of the worst ten percent. Maybe the world would be better without me. I should just let this wish kill me* "Just tell me... Why? I wish you would tell me why I am dying!!! What makes me so bad?"
The third stone fractures. Jeffrey Sweeney takes his last breathe and hears, "You are only having a heart attack." | |
[WP] You are granted three wishes. For your first wish, you wish for all the evil, hateful, wrong-doing, scumbags on this earth to wiped out. You start to feel a small pain in your chest. | I glared at the Sphinx with accusing eyes as I clutched my chest. "Why?" I asked it, "I'm not an evil man? I have never harmed a soul. All I wanted was for the world to be a nice and happy place devoid of the monsters that roam among us. Was that too much to ask? Does my desire to destroy evil make me a villain as well?"
The stone monument started to say something but I held up my hand.
"Fine," I declared. "If my own life is the price I have to pay to bring paradise to this planet, then be it. I am a nobody in the grand scheme of things. No one will know about the ultimate sacrifice I made today for the future of humanity, but maybe that is for the best. Glory was never something I sought. The knowledge that I have made the world a better place will be enough to keep me warm during my last few moments in this realm. And who knows? Maybe I will be rewarded in the afterlife."
"It's just heartburn," the stoic statue stated.
I straightened up. The pain had indeed been momentary and, if the sculpture was to be believed, had probably been caused by the Cheese-Camel Quarter Pounder I had for lunch.
"Oh, good." I stated sheepishly. "Let's move on, then. Now, can you make all the attractive women in the world want to have sex with me? Mind you, only the hot ones. I don't want to spend my entire day swatting away the fuglies. Can you swing that, my man?"
The Sphinx stared at me for a while and with a heavy sigh said, "Yes."
"Fuckin' A!"
| Never trust a Djinn.
That's what they say in a lot of folklore, that they when you release them from the lamp, that you'll get three wishes, any three wishes. But what you don't realize is that they will twist it, to suit their dark desires and impulses.
As a joke, my friend had brought me back a lamp from Egypt, telling me it was a magic lamp that his cab driver had under his seat when he first arrived, desperate to be rid of it. He didn't ask questions, he just laughed at the man, until the driver told him to take the lamp and the fare would be free. He never told me if he used it or not, knowing Jacob, he wouldn't. He wasn't the kind to believe in fairy tales. But he knew I'd love it, being a teacher in Mythology for the local university. When he brought it by, he informed me of what the driver warned him, that one would need to be careful of what they wish for.
I thought I was being valiant, brushing him off, informing him it wouldn't be a problem. After all, you teach the stuff that preaches about Djinns, you'd think you'd know it. So when to our combined surprise when a Djinn came forth from the tarnished lamp, I knew what I had to wish for: to wipe out all the evil, all the hateful, all the scumbags on Earth. And with a snap of his finger, he told me it was done.
The pain was starting to intensify, as I fell to my knees. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that my friend too, had been affected by the spell. I looked at the smiling Djinn, before gasping out a single question, "What have we done to deserve this?" The smiling Djinn looked down upon me, before lowering his head to my level. Even though my eyes were swimming with water, I knew he what he was going to say before he said it. "Humanity as a whole, is the most hateful, evil beings in the world. They rape the Earth for their profit, for the bottom line, not caring about the environment or the aftermath of their destruction. There is nothing worse then Humanity - and you wanted them all dead. Your wish was granted.... exactly as you asked." | |
[WP] You are part of an army of duck sized horses about to take on a horse sized duck. | I don't think it turned out very well, but once I got started, I just could not stop. Sorry! Please be kind!
*****
“Tomorrow is the great duck hunt!” exclaimed Pfadlaufer, his face brimming over with excitement. Traces of sunlight filtered through the thick foliage and illuminated his dark brown coat. “I will finally become a real warrior steed!” He exclaimed, trotting down the narrow path, mindful of the large branches that reached out and threatened to scratch him.
His best friend, a white and black pony named Mondschritt, trotted alongside him, rolling her eyes at his enthusiasm. “The whole thing is a joke!” she laughed, “No one has seen a duck around these parts for almost a thousand years!”
And this was true. No one had seen a duck for generations, so much so that many of the young ponies began to question if such a thing had ever existed, or if it was just a myth told by the village elders to scare little ponies around the campfire, just like the legends of the unicorns, great battle mares who once hunted the ducks from the land. All the same, a tradition had arisen – on a pony’s thirteenth birthday, he would venture forth deep into the woods with one of the village warriors, learning the way of the hunt. When he returned with whatever he killed, he would be dubbed a horse, and allowed to join the ranks of the warrior steeds, who protected the village and hunted for food.
“Na-uh!” the brown foot-tall exclaimed, “My grandfather saw one when he was a boy. He said so himself!”
“Your grandfather was just telling crazy stories again,” Mondschritt neighed in frustration. “This whole thing is just an excuse for boys to run around the woods, make strange noises, pretend to see a duck, ‘slay it’, and then drink fermented apple juice in celebration.”
Pfadlaufer sighed, “You just don’t understand because you’re a girl. All you have to do is learn to cook, clean, and raise ponies. You’ll never know what it’s like to go deep into the woods and hunt. You’re not a unicorn.”
This angered Mondschritt. Deep down, she secretly wanted to hunt, to fight, and to do everything that the boy ponies did – but it was not allowed. Secretly she trained with her older brother in the art of war, but she could never betray this to anyone, for fear of punishment.
“Will never know what it’s like, huh?” she chuckled, leaning in, and with a sudden jolt, slamming herself gently into Pfadlaufer, knocking him off path and into the bushes. “Let’s find out right now! Bet you can’t keep up with me, slowtrot!” And with that she took off, like a bolt of lightning, deeper into the woods.
“Wait,” Pfadlaufer exclaimed, “We’ve never gone this deep before! We don’t know what’s out there!”
But Mondschritt was too far ahead to hear, and kept running. “Stupid boy, what does he know?! I’ll show him. I can run just as fast, jump just as high, and neigh just as loud as he can!”
And so the game began. For almost an hour, the two horses chased each other, deeper and deeper into the woods. The sunlight that trickled through the leaves began to fade, and everything was cast in an evening hue.
Pfadlaufer, tired from the chase, slowed his gallop to a trot and finally stopped, panting. He watched as the white pony disappeared behind a tree, and exclaimed behind her “Okay, Schritt, you win. Let’s head back – it’s getting dark.”
But he was answered only with silence.
“Mondschritt?” he asked, trotting slowly forward. “Where did you go?”
His trot became a gallop, carrying him forward into the brush. But no sooner had he taken off, did his search come to end – he found his childhood friend standing alongside the edge of a hill, looking down.
He could hear running water as he approached her. From this angle he could see a look of shock upon the white pony’s face. “Hey, what’s the big...,” he began, though as he stood alongside her, he too fell into silence.
There, before him, swimming peacefully down the river, was a giant duck. It was exactly as the legends and myths had described – it was easily the size of a hundred horses piled atop one another into a mound, with feathers of yellow and a beak of orange. Its eyes looked like large spheres of the purest obsidian. Though peaceful now, if the legends were correct, it had a temper beyond anything imaginable – if it set eyes upon a horse, it would not hesitate to pursue it unto death.
“Tha..tha..that’s a!” Pfadlaufer stuttered, bringing Mondschritt out of her daze. “I didn’t think they were real...,” she began, backing away slowly, all the while keeping her eye on the duck.
“I…I have to warn the others!” Pfadlaufer exclaimed. “If it reaches the village, everyone will die.”
“Let’s get out of here.” Mondschritt spoke, her voice cracking as she attempted to hide her fear. “This is the river that leads back to the village – if we run now, we can make it there long before it does.”
And so the two of them took off, galloping as fast as they could. Fear had overtaken them, allowing them to push past their exhaustion. By the time darkness had fallen, they were on the outskirts of the village. Stumbling out of the woods onto one of the main paths, they ran into, quite literally, one of the old night watchmen, who trotted down the path every night with a lantern held in his mouth, keeping an eye out for trouble.
The watchman stumbled backwards from the blow, but quickly righted himself. He stared at the two young ponies before him, who were panting and sputtering incoherent noises atop one another.
“Now wait just a minute, hold your ducks,” he began, but his poor choice of wording caused the frightened eyes of the ponies to open even wider – “Duck!” they both exclaimed. “There’s a duck!”
The old horse, Nachtpferd, neighed, silencing the duo. “Now, wait just a minute. A duck? Have you both gone mad? There hasn’t been a duck in these parts since time immemorial. It’s just a legend.”
“No, it’s true! We really saw a duck!” Pfadlaufer shouted.
“He’s telling the truth! It was huge! And yellow! Just like the stories!” Mondschritt added.
Nachtpferd was about to tell them to stop spinning tales and go home, but he stopped himself. Something wasn’t right about the way they looked; it was true fear that reflected in their eyes. The hair on their manes stood straight up, as though they’d just seen the Sensenpferd itself with its long scythe of death. Although it was against his better judgment, he whickered in exasperation. “Okay, fine. Let’s go to see the elders, maybe they can talk some sense into you.”
| "Well, would you look at that!" Old Brown Hooves neighed.
I shot him a hard glance. He knew he needed to keep his long mouth shut.
It stood tall. It stood yellow. It had a bright orange menacing bill. Karl, King of the Ducks, was the size of our herd all put together, stacked, and spread out. There were twenty of us that had come to slay this beast in the mountain enclosure. We were lucky, the grass stood tall, well above out heads. Karl wouldn't be able to see us, but Karl wasn't seeing much of anything. He was sleeping. His head was nestled down into his chest and his terrible webbed feet were hidden beneath his body.
We quietly trotted within firing distance. We only had one chance to take out this beast without taking casualties. We were the chosen stallions for this mission. We were the catapult crew. The Dirty Twelve held our elastic firing bands. Two to a band. Each one held an end of the elastic catapult and pulled it tight. The Sadistic Six then pulled napalm bags from their saddle bags and placed them in the middle of their bands where the oat holder was for firing. The Sadistic Six grabbed the oat holder with their teeth and pulled it back as far as possible until the elastic firing bands were taught.
Old Brown Hooves struck his metal hooves against a rock and lit his torch. He picked up the blazing torch and waited for my signal.
Karl's eyes shot open. Fuck.
"Rain Hell!" I roared, and Old Brown Hooves galloped as fast as he could down the line lighting each bag of napalm. The Sadistic Six loosened their jaws and let the bags fly.
They flew through the air, all six bags of certain death. Karl stood tall and opened his wings. Maybe he thought he could bat the bags away. He wouldn't escape his death.
Two bags fell short setting the tall grass on fire, but the rest found their mark. Two smashed into his wings setting them ablaze. Another hit his right foot causing him to let out a deafening QUACK.
I think Karl saw the final one. Well, I know Karl saw the final one because it landed right on his big fat orange bill and washed into his face.
He flapped his wings a few times out of rhythm and shook his head violently trying to shake off the napalm. Then he fell twitching and smoldering.
Everyone Neighed! We had reduced Karl, King of the Ducks, to napalm burning foie gras. No longer would Karl sweep down on our herd and pick off our foals from above. No longer would his quacks turn our dreams in to nightmares. It was over.
The Twelve, the Six, Old Brown Hooves, and I trotted back to the plains were our mares waited for us with carrots and apples.
The End. | |
[WP] In a surprise unanimous decision the U.S. Supreme Court has ruled in favor of the defense, cementing the "I licked it, it's mine" precedent into law. The Great Lickening has begun. | Justice Scalia sat high on his bench with a folio in his hands, preparing to read the opinion. Just before he started, Justice Kagan grinned, leaned over and extended a slobbery tongue, rubbing it down the length of the paper. Scalia shot daggers at her, but she cackled gleefully and grabbed the folder from his hands. "Now *I* will read the opinion," she told the assembled dignitaries in the court room. But that was enough for the reporters to figure out the results, and the "running of the interns" began as they dashed from the Supreme Court building, skidded down the slippery marble steps, and over to the news van to report the results. One of them didn't even bother doing his job, but instead ran to the nearby parking lot to slobber over a bright red Ferrari. The headlines soon dotted every website: *Licking* was now the proper way to claim ownership.
Tongues could not move fast enough. Bill Henderson, tourist at the National Air and Space Museum, leaned across a velvet rope barrier and claimed control of the Space Shuttle Discovery. Billionaires were seen on the tarmacs of their private airports, licking the wings of their jets while hurrying back to their mansions (only to discover that most of them had been licked by a maid or something before they'd even gotten close). Others were busy sliding their tongues over stacks of bills and stock certificates.
Most items were claimed pretty quickly, and norms were rapidly established to facilitate the new system of ownership. To sell an item, the vendor was required to scrub off his original tongue print before giving it to the owner to be licked. Flavored disinfectant was considered a necessary courtesy. Land would be transferred by planting a rock at the very center of the property, and giving that a good lick. Cunnilingus was banned under the 13th Amendment. Tongue dyes and saliva enhancers became all the rage. Kissing the bride at a wedding now required frenching.
Problems soon emerged. What if two people licked the same thing in different places? What if two components were licked by different people before being combined together? What if a person licked something but his tongue was too dry to leave residue? Were licking machines permitted? Did a man have to lick every part of something to truly own it? Was licking your hand and then putting your hand on something considered licking? Did calling "Shotgun" before getting into a car trump someone licking the front passenger seat?
Congress became embroiled in fierce political battles over Tongue Control, and after an acrimonious, year-long debate, a Constitutional Amendment was passed to overturn the Supreme Court decision and return the country to the predictable standards of contracts.
-----
And that, class, is your lesson in Constitutional Law for today. Your homework for tomorrow is to read the case of McPhearson v. Horton Elementary School, which will lead us into tomorrow's discussion of whether "He who smelt it, dealt it." | I was licked into slavery at the moment I emerged from the womb. The man who licked me was a good man. He was also of The Lickened. In fact, he was one of The First Lickened, one of the unfortunates licked soon after the bill was passed. He says he licked himself. I believe him. But without evidence he fell immediately info corporate control. He owned me, but he was owned by The Lickeners.
That was the company that now controlled most of the United States. The law didn't pass anywhere else in the world. It must have passed by fluke. The long lived "Licking Law" is idiotic by any standard. Maybe they all thought it was a joke and went along with it. But there were theories that, with his deep pockets, James Rattsmith lobbied the law through The Lickeners. As soon as the announcement was made, droves of his men began to take over by licking everyone and everything they could find, but they deny it. And no one can deny them. They controlled 98% of everything. Through a fluke in the law in fact, they licked the country. They owned the country when Rattsmith slid his slimy tongue across the constitution.
But we will never know for sure what truly happened. All of the history written at the time was written by The Lickeners. Most of the people who lived through The Great Lickening are now dead. I am one of the last. In fact, I am heralded as the man who ended The Licks. | |
[WP] Killing another human has a hidden effect nobody realized before - the person most responsible ceases to age for a duration of one hour for every year of their victims life. It wasn't until the advent of weapons of mass destruction that we realized the truth of this. | Mr. Harold Truman slowly twirls in his chair, fingering the folds in his suit-coat. His head rests on the back of a well-crafted office chair that is positioned behind a desk heaped with documents and folders and other things of seemingly large import. His face is dressed with the stoic mask of a man beset by his own emotions. He releases a deep-bellied sigh that elaborates the current state of his visage.
Seemingly unchanged since the days when Harry Truman was a household name, he is still marked by birdish features and his signature gold-rimmed eyeglasses. Roughly 700 years have passed since the waves of battle and victory had made this man occupy the headlines of the world, yet he persists. If one were to peruse the dusty tomes of history, forgotten in the bosom of ruined libraries and on the shelves of eccentric scholars, one would find that former president Truman had passed in the early 1970s. So the public was made to believe. So history was made to keep record of.
As is apparent now, that is not the truth. The real circumstance is that Truman lives, granted a (professionally) estimated 702 years, as a prize from the unknown for his reaping of souls. Centuries have come and gone since the tragedies at Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Worlds and histories have been known and forgotten like whispers in the void.
Now, in the year 2646, Truman's heart slams among his viscera, an engine driving his desires against a headwind of faded morality. He lets his feet come to a rest on the wooden floorboards beneath him, putting an end to the rotating of his office chair. His left index finger comes down on a small machine, fumbling for an even smaller button. He finds it and the machine chirps.
"I've made my decision. Call him." Truman grumbles in the direction of the machine. The voice of a woman tinged with the springs of youth echoes from it.
"At once, sir."
*Click.*
*Ring.*
*Ring.*
*Click.*
A voice bellows from the machine, "Hm? Ya?"
"Heinrich. I need..." Truman, unsteady and hesitant, delays his speech. He erupts, "I need your help. It's time."
"I've been waiting for this call Herr Truman." Himmler smiles and adjusts his glasses. "We meet tomorrow."
*Click.* | A plume of smoke wafted up to join the haze that clung to the chamber's ceiling. The man who held the cigarette smiled at his guest's discomfort before placing the burning roll of paper into an ash tray, but not extinguishing it.
"Perhaps I should be worried about lung cancer, yes?" he inquired with an accent that hadn't been heard in decades outside of archival newsreel footage.
"I suppose that would be...silly," his guest conceded, though the younger man's eyes had followed the cigarette as it had been lowered and his expression of distaste had not diminished.
"Do you know why you are here, Mr. Gonzalez?"
"Of course," the man named Stephen Gonzalez responded, hoisting the briefcase he had arrived with. "For the annual review of your...department."
"A strange thing to call a single man," the speaker replied. "The Department of External Continuity."
"Well, the government prefers that *very* few people be aware of the contents of report 060849-7c. At last count--aside from you and me--only seven people are aware of the report or its ramifications."
"Naturally." The speaker reached for the cigarette again, but stopped himself as he glanced back at Gonzalez, who had already set his suitcase on the table and undid the clasps.
"We have noted several worrying trends in DEC activity over the last eight months," Gonzalez said as he withdrew a slim manila envelope and withdrew a small sheaf of printed pages. Tabulated columns were printed in practically microscopic font, with hand-written markings over the pages. At the bottom of the last page, several entries were circled in red. "We are seeing increased activity in China, of all places. We expected the Middle East to remain your primary sphere of action."
"Pollution," the other man replied easily. "Turns out the concentration of wealth also results in the concentration of culpability for crimes perpetrated in pursuit of that wealth. We don't know who decides where fault lies--it certainly has nothing to do with the local laws--but we must guarantee that nature takes the course we all *expect* it to."
"I see...I suppose I can see that. Very well, we will take steps to corroborate your claims, but other than that, we see no irregularities with the DEC's operations. This should not take too much longer, Colonel Tibbets."
"Please, call me Paul," He said in his sixty-year old accent as he reached his thirty-year old hand back to the cigarette. | |
[WP] Killing another human has a hidden effect nobody realized before - the person most responsible ceases to age for a duration of one hour for every year of their victims life. It wasn't until the advent of weapons of mass destruction that we realized the truth of this. | His hands that had earlier trembled with desperation were now steady and methodical. As he removed the knife and blood began to pool around him he groped for the wallet and removed the late mans identification. June 16 1988 the Id indicated. "I have another twenty six hours." the man muttered under his breath as he climbed into his truck and sped away. Twenty five hours and his hands would start to tremble. | A plume of smoke wafted up to join the haze that clung to the chamber's ceiling. The man who held the cigarette smiled at his guest's discomfort before placing the burning roll of paper into an ash tray, but not extinguishing it.
"Perhaps I should be worried about lung cancer, yes?" he inquired with an accent that hadn't been heard in decades outside of archival newsreel footage.
"I suppose that would be...silly," his guest conceded, though the younger man's eyes had followed the cigarette as it had been lowered and his expression of distaste had not diminished.
"Do you know why you are here, Mr. Gonzalez?"
"Of course," the man named Stephen Gonzalez responded, hoisting the briefcase he had arrived with. "For the annual review of your...department."
"A strange thing to call a single man," the speaker replied. "The Department of External Continuity."
"Well, the government prefers that *very* few people be aware of the contents of report 060849-7c. At last count--aside from you and me--only seven people are aware of the report or its ramifications."
"Naturally." The speaker reached for the cigarette again, but stopped himself as he glanced back at Gonzalez, who had already set his suitcase on the table and undid the clasps.
"We have noted several worrying trends in DEC activity over the last eight months," Gonzalez said as he withdrew a slim manila envelope and withdrew a small sheaf of printed pages. Tabulated columns were printed in practically microscopic font, with hand-written markings over the pages. At the bottom of the last page, several entries were circled in red. "We are seeing increased activity in China, of all places. We expected the Middle East to remain your primary sphere of action."
"Pollution," the other man replied easily. "Turns out the concentration of wealth also results in the concentration of culpability for crimes perpetrated in pursuit of that wealth. We don't know who decides where fault lies--it certainly has nothing to do with the local laws--but we must guarantee that nature takes the course we all *expect* it to."
"I see...I suppose I can see that. Very well, we will take steps to corroborate your claims, but other than that, we see no irregularities with the DEC's operations. This should not take too much longer, Colonel Tibbets."
"Please, call me Paul," He said in his sixty-year old accent as he reached his thirty-year old hand back to the cigarette. | |
[WP] Killing another human has a hidden effect nobody realized before - the person most responsible ceases to age for a duration of one hour for every year of their victims life. It wasn't until the advent of weapons of mass destruction that we realized the truth of this. | The boy shot himself.... And immediately woke up.
*What the crap? Why didn't I die?* Now he started to rethink his situation. *Do I really want to die? It was easy the first time, on impulse... Is the universe trying to tell me something?* The young man tried again. He reloaded the gun, and pulled the trigger. And he woke up again.
*The hell? What's happening?* He started to ponder this situation. He decided he would wait till tomorrow. Maybe he was just dreaming.
A couple hours later, as he was making fond memories of his last day on earth, he suddenly crumbled into dust, and ceased to be. | A plume of smoke wafted up to join the haze that clung to the chamber's ceiling. The man who held the cigarette smiled at his guest's discomfort before placing the burning roll of paper into an ash tray, but not extinguishing it.
"Perhaps I should be worried about lung cancer, yes?" he inquired with an accent that hadn't been heard in decades outside of archival newsreel footage.
"I suppose that would be...silly," his guest conceded, though the younger man's eyes had followed the cigarette as it had been lowered and his expression of distaste had not diminished.
"Do you know why you are here, Mr. Gonzalez?"
"Of course," the man named Stephen Gonzalez responded, hoisting the briefcase he had arrived with. "For the annual review of your...department."
"A strange thing to call a single man," the speaker replied. "The Department of External Continuity."
"Well, the government prefers that *very* few people be aware of the contents of report 060849-7c. At last count--aside from you and me--only seven people are aware of the report or its ramifications."
"Naturally." The speaker reached for the cigarette again, but stopped himself as he glanced back at Gonzalez, who had already set his suitcase on the table and undid the clasps.
"We have noted several worrying trends in DEC activity over the last eight months," Gonzalez said as he withdrew a slim manila envelope and withdrew a small sheaf of printed pages. Tabulated columns were printed in practically microscopic font, with hand-written markings over the pages. At the bottom of the last page, several entries were circled in red. "We are seeing increased activity in China, of all places. We expected the Middle East to remain your primary sphere of action."
"Pollution," the other man replied easily. "Turns out the concentration of wealth also results in the concentration of culpability for crimes perpetrated in pursuit of that wealth. We don't know who decides where fault lies--it certainly has nothing to do with the local laws--but we must guarantee that nature takes the course we all *expect* it to."
"I see...I suppose I can see that. Very well, we will take steps to corroborate your claims, but other than that, we see no irregularities with the DEC's operations. This should not take too much longer, Colonel Tibbets."
"Please, call me Paul," He said in his sixty-year old accent as he reached his thirty-year old hand back to the cigarette. | |
[WP] Killing another human has a hidden effect nobody realized before - the person most responsible ceases to age for a duration of one hour for every year of their victims life. It wasn't until the advent of weapons of mass destruction that we realized the truth of this. | Mr. Harold Truman slowly twirls in his chair, fingering the folds in his suit-coat. His head rests on the back of a well-crafted office chair that is positioned behind a desk heaped with documents and folders and other things of seemingly large import. His face is dressed with the stoic mask of a man beset by his own emotions. He releases a deep-bellied sigh that elaborates the current state of his visage.
Seemingly unchanged since the days when Harry Truman was a household name, he is still marked by birdish features and his signature gold-rimmed eyeglasses. Roughly 700 years have passed since the waves of battle and victory had made this man occupy the headlines of the world, yet he persists. If one were to peruse the dusty tomes of history, forgotten in the bosom of ruined libraries and on the shelves of eccentric scholars, one would find that former president Truman had passed in the early 1970s. So the public was made to believe. So history was made to keep record of.
As is apparent now, that is not the truth. The real circumstance is that Truman lives, granted a (professionally) estimated 702 years, as a prize from the unknown for his reaping of souls. Centuries have come and gone since the tragedies at Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Worlds and histories have been known and forgotten like whispers in the void.
Now, in the year 2646, Truman's heart slams among his viscera, an engine driving his desires against a headwind of faded morality. He lets his feet come to a rest on the wooden floorboards beneath him, putting an end to the rotating of his office chair. His left index finger comes down on a small machine, fumbling for an even smaller button. He finds it and the machine chirps.
"I've made my decision. Call him." Truman grumbles in the direction of the machine. The voice of a woman tinged with the springs of youth echoes from it.
"At once, sir."
*Click.*
*Ring.*
*Ring.*
*Click.*
A voice bellows from the machine, "Hm? Ya?"
"Heinrich. I need..." Truman, unsteady and hesitant, delays his speech. He erupts, "I need your help. It's time."
"I've been waiting for this call Herr Truman." Himmler smiles and adjusts his glasses. "We meet tomorrow."
*Click.* | His hand trembled uncontrollably as he lifted the barrel of the weapon to his temple.
All he'd wanted was to have control over his own life - he'd become a monster to do so. He'd led his nation into a war, earning decades. Ordering the deaths of millions more had given him even more life.
He'd even been desperate enough to begin development of a fission weapon. If everything had gone well, he would have lived for hundreds of years.
Everything hadn't gone well, however, and here he was now - malnourished, defeated, and weeks from death. Aging wasn't the only way to die, after all.
He'd surely be executed for war crimes - there was only one way left to maintain control of his own life.
With trembling fingers, Adolf Hitler pulled the trigger.
----
Questions? Criticisms? Want to see more? Check out more of my stuff at /r/Draxagon | |
[WP] Killing another human has a hidden effect nobody realized before - the person most responsible ceases to age for a duration of one hour for every year of their victims life. It wasn't until the advent of weapons of mass destruction that we realized the truth of this. | His hands that had earlier trembled with desperation were now steady and methodical. As he removed the knife and blood began to pool around him he groped for the wallet and removed the late mans identification. June 16 1988 the Id indicated. "I have another twenty six hours." the man muttered under his breath as he climbed into his truck and sped away. Twenty five hours and his hands would start to tremble. | His hand trembled uncontrollably as he lifted the barrel of the weapon to his temple.
All he'd wanted was to have control over his own life - he'd become a monster to do so. He'd led his nation into a war, earning decades. Ordering the deaths of millions more had given him even more life.
He'd even been desperate enough to begin development of a fission weapon. If everything had gone well, he would have lived for hundreds of years.
Everything hadn't gone well, however, and here he was now - malnourished, defeated, and weeks from death. Aging wasn't the only way to die, after all.
He'd surely be executed for war crimes - there was only one way left to maintain control of his own life.
With trembling fingers, Adolf Hitler pulled the trigger.
----
Questions? Criticisms? Want to see more? Check out more of my stuff at /r/Draxagon | |
[WP] Killing another human has a hidden effect nobody realized before - the person most responsible ceases to age for a duration of one hour for every year of their victims life. It wasn't until the advent of weapons of mass destruction that we realized the truth of this. | The boy shot himself.... And immediately woke up.
*What the crap? Why didn't I die?* Now he started to rethink his situation. *Do I really want to die? It was easy the first time, on impulse... Is the universe trying to tell me something?* The young man tried again. He reloaded the gun, and pulled the trigger. And he woke up again.
*The hell? What's happening?* He started to ponder this situation. He decided he would wait till tomorrow. Maybe he was just dreaming.
A couple hours later, as he was making fond memories of his last day on earth, he suddenly crumbled into dust, and ceased to be. | His hand trembled uncontrollably as he lifted the barrel of the weapon to his temple.
All he'd wanted was to have control over his own life - he'd become a monster to do so. He'd led his nation into a war, earning decades. Ordering the deaths of millions more had given him even more life.
He'd even been desperate enough to begin development of a fission weapon. If everything had gone well, he would have lived for hundreds of years.
Everything hadn't gone well, however, and here he was now - malnourished, defeated, and weeks from death. Aging wasn't the only way to die, after all.
He'd surely be executed for war crimes - there was only one way left to maintain control of his own life.
With trembling fingers, Adolf Hitler pulled the trigger.
----
Questions? Criticisms? Want to see more? Check out more of my stuff at /r/Draxagon | |
[WP] Killing another human has a hidden effect nobody realized before - the person most responsible ceases to age for a duration of one hour for every year of their victims life. It wasn't until the advent of weapons of mass destruction that we realized the truth of this. | The boy shot himself.... And immediately woke up.
*What the crap? Why didn't I die?* Now he started to rethink his situation. *Do I really want to die? It was easy the first time, on impulse... Is the universe trying to tell me something?* The young man tried again. He reloaded the gun, and pulled the trigger. And he woke up again.
*The hell? What's happening?* He started to ponder this situation. He decided he would wait till tomorrow. Maybe he was just dreaming.
A couple hours later, as he was making fond memories of his last day on earth, he suddenly crumbled into dust, and ceased to be. | A world of nothing stretched forever,
A sighing, voiceless place.
A calling, quiet, ending tenor,
A long forgotten race.
I had watched those towers fall,
Saw fire burn in the sky.
I listened to the bullets sing,
And heard the living cry.
But long ago was this torture,
Far and far away.
I lived alone, atop a throne,
and dream of that day.
Few had seen as much as I,
and fewer still could see.
For I am become Death,
Destroyer of worlds,
and burned the land and sea. | |
[WP] You are a genie who's been trapped in his lamp for centuries. One day, a homeless child picks up the magical lamp and you grant his three wishes. | I felt, distantly, the touch of a mortal hand on the brass surface of my prison.
*Ah. How long has it been...?*
I was mildly curious, but the passage of time had never meant much to me. I was a genie, after all. Time had no hold on me, and never would. When this planet was nothing but a scorched husk orbiting a red giant, my prison would remain, and so would I.
I had slept a long time. I wondered, distantly, how the world had changed since my last master had awoken me. A petty king had desired to be a greater one, and had used my power to become one, grinding nations beneath his heel.
He was dead, now, and perhaps his empire had died with him.
What king or queen now called me? What emperor or empress had paid a king's ransom to retrieve my lamp? Or perhaps my new master was a foolhardy adventurer, chasing after faint rumors and old legends of my power.
It hardly mattered. I had my task; that was all.
To the one who rubs the lamp: three wishes. No more.
And once those wishes were granted, I would disappear. Great men had thought to keep me as property, handing me on to their sons. They were always foiled. It was not my fate to be held in the hands of a dynasty.
Three wishes, and my prison would be stolen by someone ignorant of my potential, or it would be dropped by a careless hand and lost in the flow of a swift-flowing river, or sometimes it would simply vanish, to reappear buried in the trackless sands of a vast desert.
I emerged, slowly, from the spout of the lamp, stretching out into the form I used to communicate with my masters--that of a white-robed man with a long, black beard and pale green skin.
"Who has awakened me?" I rumbled, smoke whirling about the... alley?
This was no palace. A man of lesser means had found me, then. Well, I had aided beggars in the past--men hardened by the hardships they'd faced, who had proved to be just as greedy and cruel as any king once offered power.
I peered at my new master.
It was a little boy, perhaps six or seven years old, in tattered clothing. He was thin, and I imagined he was hungry.
Perhaps his first wish would be a feast, then, with more lofty wishes to come once he realized the potential of what he held.
"You're--you're a genie?" the boy whispered, his eyes full of wonder--and fear, as well.
I nodded, gravely. "Yes. I have the power to grant you three wishes. You may not wish for more wishes, and I cannot raise the dead."
The boy's face fell at that last statement. He had lost someone, or perhaps many someones. Not surprising, giving his current state.
"Can you..." The boy said, staring at the ground. "Genie, sir, can you make--can you make it so that there's no more war?"
I paused. I rarely offered advice to my masters. It wasn't my nature. The men and women who made use of my power showed their wisdom or foolishness by the wishes they made, and received the reward or misery they deserved by the granting of those wishes. And yet...
This was a boy, not yet wise in the ways of the world. And he spoke of a wish made out of the desire to end suffering.
And so I answered, "Yes, child. But the only way I could do so would be to destroy all those with the potential to make it. It would be the end of the human race." After a moment, I added another piece of advice that so few of my masters realized on their own. "Many wishes of such scope have unintended results. I would think long and hard before making any such wish, were I you."
"Oh." His shoulders slumped even further.
"If you wish, child," I said, gently, "I can return to the lamp, and you may think on what you want to wish for."
He shook his head. "No, I--can... can I ask for a friend? So I won't be alone?"
Such a small child, to be so alone in the world. Was he an orphan, then? Had he no other relatives--or at least, none who would take him in?
"You can," I said.
"Then--that's my first wish." He gave a little nod, looking decisive.
I nodded back. "So you command, and so it shall be done." I waved my hand.
The boy looked around, as though expecting his friend to materialize out of thin air.
I couldn't help but smile. A moment later, a sandy-furred dog with dark patches scattered over her body came sniffing around the corner. As soon as the cur spotted the boy, her ears perked up, and she came barreling down the alleyway to leap upon him, licking his face.
"Spotty!" the boy cried, his voice more joyful than I suspected it had been in a long time. "I thought you'd died, when the bombs..." He wrapped his arms around his dog, and began to sob into her fur.
As the boy and dog reacquainted themselves, I reached out to lay my hand upon the dog's head. Power flowed from within me, and I placed three boons upon the animal.
*Health. Longevity. Intelligence.*
A new light came into Spotty's eyes, and she looked at me in what seemed to be gratitude. Then she turned back to her boy, whining softly, pressing her wet nose against his face and licking what I now saw was a bruise on his cheek.
Once the boy and Spotty had thoroughly greeted one another, the boy looked back to me, his dark eyes shining.
"Thank you," he said. "Thank you so much."
I merely nodded. "You have two wishes left."
The boy looked thoughtful. "I wish... I want to go back to school, so I can become a doctor and help people--or, or maybe someone with the power to make peace. Like, um, an ambassador. Would that be okay? I can't ask for peace without hurting people, but can I be someone who helps people hurt in war, or helps make wars stop?" he asked.
I considered the wording of the wish. He seemed uncertain--but that was natural for a child. And ambiguity would provide him enough flexibility that he wouldn't feel trapped by the wish as he grew into whatever sort of man he would become.
Or, perhaps, might become.
"Is your wish, then, to become someone who helps people when you grow up?" I suggested a phrasing that had the potential to give the result he wanted, as well as providing assurance that he would, in fact, grow up.
He nodded. "Yeah."
"So you command," I said, "So shall it be done. One wish remains."
Spotty sat back on her haunches, her tail thudding against the ground. She looked anxiously from the boy, to me, and back to the boy.
Tension hung in the air as the boy considered.
"Genie," he said. "I know you can't bring my family back. But..." He looked at me with hope shining in his eyes. "Can you..." He paused, thinking. "Big wishes can make bad things happen--but if I wished that every orphan in this city was adopted by a family who would love them, would that do anything bad?"
"I cannot say," I replied. "But... I think, if any harm would be done by such a thing, the good would outweigh it."
The boy stroked Spotty's ears. "Then that's my third wish."
A family, for all the orphans in the city. A complex thing, but doable for one of my power. I reached out into the fabric of reality, and took hold of the many strands of fate, twisting each one just so. Here, a father who had lost a daughter would see a one-legged girl begging on the street, and feel suddenly moved. There, an elderly woman who had lost her children and most of her grandchildren on one fateful day would spot a little boy who was the spitting image of her own son as a child, and decide that it was a sign.
At last, I lowered my hands. "So you command," I said.
I did another thing, then, as well. I found that I was curious to see what this child would become when he grew up.
Once more, I grasped the fabric of reality. I shaped a body for myself, tall and strong, appearing to be around thirty years old, in good health. I crafted an identity, as well--I was a wealthy entrepreneur, with a house in a nearby country, in an area that was untouched by the war that had torn this boy's family away. I had land, I decided, with trees a young boy might like to climb, once he recovered from his malnourishment, and grassy fields for a boy and his dog to run through.
Perhaps I would take a wife, and give the boy a mother, as well--but that would come later.
I gathered up the bulk of my power, and I sealed it away. I stood, now, an ordinary man, in clothing finer than was usually seen in this dusty alley. I gently took the lamp from the boy's hands. It would lie, inert, until this body met its end, as all mortal humans must.
"So you command," I repeated, and, kneeling, held out my arms. "So shall it be done. My son."
| Every day turns to night. Every night to day.
I hate my exsistance. Even though I am not cramped in my brass cell these walls have closed on me almost a millenia ago and will be here for a millenia longer.
I've lost my sanity long ago I have been here a slave to the whims of the unknowing and the unwilling my potential "masters" passing by for eons and eons.
I am a being of unfathomable power and unpecidented ability. I HAVE RISEN KINGS TO POWER AND DESTROYED CIVILIZATIONS. I CAN END HUNGER OR STARVE EVERYONE WITH ONE SNAP OF MY FINGERS.
But alas I am trapped in this maddening lamp for eternity such a lonly exsistance this will be.
"What's this?" Asked johnny "Huh looks like what grandma used to put gravy in" Johnny said as he bent down to pick up the lamp he had just mistaken for a gravy boat. "Wow this thing is cool!, but it's dirty" as Johnny was wiping away the dirt from the lamp it began to shake and smoke.
Johnny quickly dropped the lamp and ran away screaming quickly hiding behind a nearby tree watching the lamp. Then the lamp started to smoke and shake more vigorously. And a bright light started to peer out from under the lid. Then all of a sudden Johnny saw the lid fly off the lamp and a huge cloud of purple smoke erupted from the lamp and then from the cloud a voice boomed "Who has awaken me?" Johnny was scared but his grandma always told him that there was nothing to be scared of and that's big boys will always stand up to any challenge. "Who has awaken me? " the voice boomed again.
From behind the tree Johnny said "it. It was me". "Present your self and give me your name" the cloud demanded. Johnny emerged from behind the tree said "I touched your gravy thing and my name is Johnny". "Well then.." the cloud started to dissipate and from it emerged the genie he continued " my name is Gilgata I am a Genie and you my young sir are my master for as long as you like." Johnny stared at Gilgata speechless, stunned.
"Well let me explain to you I am a being of pure magic and I can do anything you want me to do but there is a catch you can only have three wishes and only three so use then wisely." Johnny who was still staring at Gilgata asked "I can have anything?". "Yes Master absolutely anything" Gilgata replied. Then Johnny sat on the ground next to the tree and he lowered his head then he said l with a cracking voice "can I have my grandma back?. She told me that the ambalance people was gonna take her to get happy again but she never come home. Can I have her back?" Johnny asked who was now on the verge of tears. "Who do you live with now Master". Then Johnny started crying and he said "noone my daddy died he was shot when I was little, my mommy rook me to grandma's house one day then she left and never come back. Grammie loved me she never wanted to leave but she did, at least she said goodbye".
"You said I could have anything. I want my Grammie back, please?" Johnny asked Gilgata for what he truly wanted but Gilgata knew he could not deliver. "No master I cannot, I can't change the way of the world. Is there anything else you want?" Gilgata was saddened by the child's wish because mostly riches are the first wish but his was for his family.
"OK I know what my three wishes are" Johnny said "really all three? What are they? " Gilgata said. "First I want food not only for me I want enough food for everyone, I know how bad it hurts to be hungry and everyone needs food, second I don't want anyone to have to live outside again last night I slept under a bridge it was scary and it made me sad so I want everyone to have a house. And for the three I want.. I want to be with my family again". Johnny said while tears were welling up in his eyes. "Master your first two wishes will not be a problem but I cannot return your family to you I am sorry." Gilgata said. "Well then can you. Can you take me to them?" Asked johnny. Gilgata was shocked he had lived for a millenia and nothing had ever stunned him as much as those words.
"Listen master I am sorry to have to tell you this but you father and grandmother there dead I can't bring them back." Gilgata said. "I know that they died I'm little but I understand, I want to be with my family please my last wish is I want to be with my family and I know that means I will have to go away too." Gilgata had never been asked to end a master's life let alone a child's. "Master I cannot, I cannot bring back the dead nor can I kill. But you know what I can do, I can be your friend. when no one is around rub my lamp and you can talk to me whenever you want. But I cannot and will not fulfill that wish."Gilgata said. Then Johnny smiled and said "OK, so why are you not covered in gravy?" | |
[WP] You are a genie who's been trapped in his lamp for centuries. One day, a homeless child picks up the magical lamp and you grant his three wishes. | I felt, distantly, the touch of a mortal hand on the brass surface of my prison.
*Ah. How long has it been...?*
I was mildly curious, but the passage of time had never meant much to me. I was a genie, after all. Time had no hold on me, and never would. When this planet was nothing but a scorched husk orbiting a red giant, my prison would remain, and so would I.
I had slept a long time. I wondered, distantly, how the world had changed since my last master had awoken me. A petty king had desired to be a greater one, and had used my power to become one, grinding nations beneath his heel.
He was dead, now, and perhaps his empire had died with him.
What king or queen now called me? What emperor or empress had paid a king's ransom to retrieve my lamp? Or perhaps my new master was a foolhardy adventurer, chasing after faint rumors and old legends of my power.
It hardly mattered. I had my task; that was all.
To the one who rubs the lamp: three wishes. No more.
And once those wishes were granted, I would disappear. Great men had thought to keep me as property, handing me on to their sons. They were always foiled. It was not my fate to be held in the hands of a dynasty.
Three wishes, and my prison would be stolen by someone ignorant of my potential, or it would be dropped by a careless hand and lost in the flow of a swift-flowing river, or sometimes it would simply vanish, to reappear buried in the trackless sands of a vast desert.
I emerged, slowly, from the spout of the lamp, stretching out into the form I used to communicate with my masters--that of a white-robed man with a long, black beard and pale green skin.
"Who has awakened me?" I rumbled, smoke whirling about the... alley?
This was no palace. A man of lesser means had found me, then. Well, I had aided beggars in the past--men hardened by the hardships they'd faced, who had proved to be just as greedy and cruel as any king once offered power.
I peered at my new master.
It was a little boy, perhaps six or seven years old, in tattered clothing. He was thin, and I imagined he was hungry.
Perhaps his first wish would be a feast, then, with more lofty wishes to come once he realized the potential of what he held.
"You're--you're a genie?" the boy whispered, his eyes full of wonder--and fear, as well.
I nodded, gravely. "Yes. I have the power to grant you three wishes. You may not wish for more wishes, and I cannot raise the dead."
The boy's face fell at that last statement. He had lost someone, or perhaps many someones. Not surprising, giving his current state.
"Can you..." The boy said, staring at the ground. "Genie, sir, can you make--can you make it so that there's no more war?"
I paused. I rarely offered advice to my masters. It wasn't my nature. The men and women who made use of my power showed their wisdom or foolishness by the wishes they made, and received the reward or misery they deserved by the granting of those wishes. And yet...
This was a boy, not yet wise in the ways of the world. And he spoke of a wish made out of the desire to end suffering.
And so I answered, "Yes, child. But the only way I could do so would be to destroy all those with the potential to make it. It would be the end of the human race." After a moment, I added another piece of advice that so few of my masters realized on their own. "Many wishes of such scope have unintended results. I would think long and hard before making any such wish, were I you."
"Oh." His shoulders slumped even further.
"If you wish, child," I said, gently, "I can return to the lamp, and you may think on what you want to wish for."
He shook his head. "No, I--can... can I ask for a friend? So I won't be alone?"
Such a small child, to be so alone in the world. Was he an orphan, then? Had he no other relatives--or at least, none who would take him in?
"You can," I said.
"Then--that's my first wish." He gave a little nod, looking decisive.
I nodded back. "So you command, and so it shall be done." I waved my hand.
The boy looked around, as though expecting his friend to materialize out of thin air.
I couldn't help but smile. A moment later, a sandy-furred dog with dark patches scattered over her body came sniffing around the corner. As soon as the cur spotted the boy, her ears perked up, and she came barreling down the alleyway to leap upon him, licking his face.
"Spotty!" the boy cried, his voice more joyful than I suspected it had been in a long time. "I thought you'd died, when the bombs..." He wrapped his arms around his dog, and began to sob into her fur.
As the boy and dog reacquainted themselves, I reached out to lay my hand upon the dog's head. Power flowed from within me, and I placed three boons upon the animal.
*Health. Longevity. Intelligence.*
A new light came into Spotty's eyes, and she looked at me in what seemed to be gratitude. Then she turned back to her boy, whining softly, pressing her wet nose against his face and licking what I now saw was a bruise on his cheek.
Once the boy and Spotty had thoroughly greeted one another, the boy looked back to me, his dark eyes shining.
"Thank you," he said. "Thank you so much."
I merely nodded. "You have two wishes left."
The boy looked thoughtful. "I wish... I want to go back to school, so I can become a doctor and help people--or, or maybe someone with the power to make peace. Like, um, an ambassador. Would that be okay? I can't ask for peace without hurting people, but can I be someone who helps people hurt in war, or helps make wars stop?" he asked.
I considered the wording of the wish. He seemed uncertain--but that was natural for a child. And ambiguity would provide him enough flexibility that he wouldn't feel trapped by the wish as he grew into whatever sort of man he would become.
Or, perhaps, might become.
"Is your wish, then, to become someone who helps people when you grow up?" I suggested a phrasing that had the potential to give the result he wanted, as well as providing assurance that he would, in fact, grow up.
He nodded. "Yeah."
"So you command," I said, "So shall it be done. One wish remains."
Spotty sat back on her haunches, her tail thudding against the ground. She looked anxiously from the boy, to me, and back to the boy.
Tension hung in the air as the boy considered.
"Genie," he said. "I know you can't bring my family back. But..." He looked at me with hope shining in his eyes. "Can you..." He paused, thinking. "Big wishes can make bad things happen--but if I wished that every orphan in this city was adopted by a family who would love them, would that do anything bad?"
"I cannot say," I replied. "But... I think, if any harm would be done by such a thing, the good would outweigh it."
The boy stroked Spotty's ears. "Then that's my third wish."
A family, for all the orphans in the city. A complex thing, but doable for one of my power. I reached out into the fabric of reality, and took hold of the many strands of fate, twisting each one just so. Here, a father who had lost a daughter would see a one-legged girl begging on the street, and feel suddenly moved. There, an elderly woman who had lost her children and most of her grandchildren on one fateful day would spot a little boy who was the spitting image of her own son as a child, and decide that it was a sign.
At last, I lowered my hands. "So you command," I said.
I did another thing, then, as well. I found that I was curious to see what this child would become when he grew up.
Once more, I grasped the fabric of reality. I shaped a body for myself, tall and strong, appearing to be around thirty years old, in good health. I crafted an identity, as well--I was a wealthy entrepreneur, with a house in a nearby country, in an area that was untouched by the war that had torn this boy's family away. I had land, I decided, with trees a young boy might like to climb, once he recovered from his malnourishment, and grassy fields for a boy and his dog to run through.
Perhaps I would take a wife, and give the boy a mother, as well--but that would come later.
I gathered up the bulk of my power, and I sealed it away. I stood, now, an ordinary man, in clothing finer than was usually seen in this dusty alley. I gently took the lamp from the boy's hands. It would lie, inert, until this body met its end, as all mortal humans must.
"So you command," I repeated, and, kneeling, held out my arms. "So shall it be done. My son."
| *The lamp shakes, and, in a whirl of smoke and sparkling dust, the genie burst out.*
**GENIE:** Free at last, free at last! Now you, our lucky one-hundredth polisher, are our lucky winner! Three wishes, anything you like! Now, there are a few rules - I can't make anyone fall in love, and I can't--
**BOY:** Meth.
**GENIE:** ... What's that?
**BOY:** Meth please.
**GENIE:** ... Um, alright. Your wish is my command! Here's some meth. Now, what's your next wish?
**BOY:** More meth please.
**GENIE:** Son, I don't think you quite understand. You can wish for *anything*. I mean, literally anything. You don't *have* to wish for meth.
**BOY:** *Did I fucking stutter?!*
**GENIE:** A lifetime of meth is yours! Now, listen, this is your last wish. You could get money, see. You could ask for a trillion dollars and I would have to give it to you. You could even *exchange* the money *for meth*.
**BOY:** I wish for more meth, please.
**GENIE:** C'mon, son. Pick something better.
**BOY:** What day is this today? Is this *really* the day I gotta stab a genie? | |
[WP] A man claims to be from the future. You ask for proof, and what he shows you removes all doubt. | Just another day, another morning jog through Valmoor Park. It was one of the safer places in the big city to jog. Muggers very honorably stuck to only robbing people at night, and left when the sun came up. The kind of place where city workers picked up the empty beer cans, used condoms, and broken glass pipes every day at 7 am sharp. I usually went jogging at about 7:30.
They couldn't do anything about the homeless, though. The ones who'd found bushes or hidden culverts in the night, and woke with the sun. They sat on park benches, holding either full cups of coffee they'd bought at 7-11, or empty ones, held out ready for your pocket change. My running shorts had no pockets, and no change. I ignored these folks. I was on a mission. My waistline was the enemy, and at 38 years old, the battle was being hard fought. A new clash of calories versus movement, every morning.
And then, one day in the summer of 2014, my battle was interrupted.
I was rounding the trail bend where there's a children's playground, about 400 yards from the lake. Didn't really notice her as I passed. Just another homeless old gal, sitting on a bench, staring at me when I ran past. At that moment, I couldn't have even told you what she was wearing. I was in the zone - 1 mile down, 2 more to go. *Alice In Chains* pumping in my earbuds. Feet thudding the paved jogging trail.
She yelled it loud enough to be heard over the music.
**"CHRISTOPHER!!!"**
I stopped, turned. She stood next to the bench, eyes and mouth forming a trio of wide circles. Looking at me not just like she knew me, but like I was some kind of celebrity. I knew immediately that I'd never met her in my life.
One earbud popped out. "Excuse me?"
Tears spilled out of her eyes like a waterfall as she blinked, struggling for words, and started walking toward me. One of her dirty hands was outstretched.
"Chris," she said, voice cracking. "Oh my god. It's... what are you doing here?"
"Do I know you?" I refused to take a step back, but realized I would soon if she kept reaching for me like that.
"I..." She stopped. Her arm dropped like a flag when the wind suddenly quits. "Oh god. I don't know how to answer that. You will?"
At that second, this story might have stopped. I was tempted to say something like "Whatever, lady," and continue my run. She could have guessed my name, and she was probably just another homeless crackhead.
But as I looked at her, I realized she wasn't decked out like most homeless folks. Her hair was shoulder-cut, brown with a fair heaping of grey. The shirt she wore, although soiled, looked like something out of a designer boutique. Cream colored, with cutouts in the arms that showed her shoulders and elbows. What I'd first thought were dirty jeans, on closer inspection, were rayon women's slacks in dark blue. Rather than sneakers, she wore some strappy pumps that might have cost a lot, in good condition.
I stared into her face for a good fifteen seconds. No bells ringing. I was positive of that. In my job, it was absolutely vital that I remembered names and faces.
"How do you know me?" I asked, taking the other earbud out. My pulse stayed high. Sweat dampened my various parts that get sweaty on a run.
"I... we were lovers. Will be? Fuck." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, finally looking away from me. Her smile was sardonic. "This is *really* hard to explain."
"Oh really?" I couldn't keep the sarcasm out of my voice. This chick was somewhere bettween fifty and eighty, in that way a lot of homeless women look. No way in hell we'd ever been in bed.
"Not *now.* Later. Fuck. Please. Don't run away."
"Look," I said, glancing at the smartwatch on my wrist. "I have to be at the office in two hours."
"Christopher Emmanuel Hodgson, I know you well. Please just hear me out?"
That one sent ripples down my spine. I never tell anyone my middle name.
"You snore," she continued. "It's one of the reasons your first wife, god, uh... Casey? Left you. That and the not wanting kids thing." She started walking toward me again. "You take your coffee black when you can't get espresso with milk. You... you only eat steak cooked well done, although you never told me why. And you love scuba diving. Especially in New Manchera Bay."
"No, ah, wrong," I finally sputtered. She was three feet from me. Close enough to stab me, if she was a lunatic. But there was nothing in her hands. "I've never scuba dived in my life."
"Right. But you will." Carefully, as if approaching a wild animal, she reached out toward my hand. "I'm not from here, Chris."
I snatched my arm away. "What?"
"I'm not from *now.* I know this sounds ridiculous, but I'm from the year 2039."
I laughed. I couldn't help it. It wasn't that her words struck me as funny. The situation was just nuts, and I let out some tension in that laugh.
"Okay, freak, whatever," I said.
But her eyes had gone cold. Her brows furrowed together, and she squinted in a way that brought her crows' feet into sharp relief. The edges of her mouth tilted down in disappointment.
"You don't believe me. I get it."
"Nope." I backed away, reaching up to put my buds back in.
"But I know all about you Chris," she continued. There was a knife edge to her words. "I know about what you did in San Jose."
I froze.
"Yeah," she said, nodding curtly. "I know. *Everything.*"
"Lady, I went to college there. Is this some kind of stalking thing? Did someone..." I looked around, trying to fight the ice in my chest. "Who put you up to this?"
| "Who do you think wrote that?"
"You?"
"Or you, maybe, my infinite reflection of light made more complicated to unfold, the reality simulation device flexes its processing power, but still it takes time to break down"
"The entropy given stored in memory to recreate an exact time and place on the reality simulation machine"
"and I've been here enough times to make the perfect statement that rhymes in iambic,
We aren't the same time travelers just exactly what was necessary to get here"
"The energy breakdown, entropy, recycled positive and negative, there is not nothing."
"Nothing ever is."
"Holy shit."
| |
[WP] A man claims to be from the future. You ask for proof, and what he shows you removes all doubt. | The red of my knuckles faded to a stark white as I tightened my grip on the doorframe, debating whether or not I should stop my sudden visitor from wildly unplugging my various living room appliances. Physically confronting a crazed individual was a decidedly bad idea, so instead I watched, and I waited. One thing was clear; I should have never let this man enter my home.
An eternity of minutes passed while I watched him wander the room, his eyes flicking about wildly while muttering incomprehensibly under his breath. Perhaps when he realized he had run out of plugs he would take his vendetta against electronics elsewhere, I mused. In fact…
“Hey, uh, buddy? Looks like you got all of them. They won’t be hurting anybody anymore, eh? Heh…”
My shaky laugh was cut off with an upturned index finger, held back at me while the other ran along the wall into the corner. It began to probe up and down, searching for something that wasn’t there as his other hand dug in his pocket.
“Ethernet cable was over there man, you already got it. There’s nothing…”
Again I was cut off by his brandished digit, though this time there was what looked to be a fishing hook clasped between his thumb and middle fingers. I exhaled sharply as he began to scratch at the tan paint, thoroughly fed up with the whole situation. Preparing to give him a piece of my mind I stepped forewords, my clammy and achy hand balled up from grasping the frame for so long. My protest died in my throat however, as a triumphant bark of laughter resounded through the room. Going in with the hook, the strange man pressed and tugged, producing a thin beige cord from the once flat surface. Not pausing for a second, he brought the wire to his mouth, ripping through it with a quick jerk of his neck and grind of teeth.
His shoulders slumped as he turned to look back at me, grinning wide and brushing his matted white hair back.
“There,” he gestured at the couch, “now we can talk.”
Taken aback by his sudden shift in demeanor, as well as the unveiling of the previously hidden wire, I remained standing in the doorway.
“N…no, I think I’ll stay standing thanks.”
“Suit yourself.” He shrugged, taking the seat himself.
I stepped back between the frames, awkwardly propping myself up with an arm as I tried to treat this stranger like an old friend, if only for my sake.
“So…” I looked everywhere but the sofa, “what brings you by? Were you like, a previous tenant or something?”
“Nope, never been here in my life. Nice place by the way.”
“Well then… “I peered at him with concern “Why are you here?”
He shifted around awkwardly, staring at the ground as he struggled with something internally. After a few openings and closings of his mouth, he sucked in his breath and said:
“I… Heh. I just thought I should come visit my brother.”
The room grew cold as my rage built, my fists now clenched in anger.
“My brother is dead asshole. Been dead for years.”
“He’s not. I mean, I’m not. And it gets worse” he smirked, “I’m also from the future.”
“Awesome. Of course you are.” I pulled out my cell phone and brandished it at him, “I’m calling the cops.”
His eyes grew wide and pleading as he put his palm up. “No, Wait!” He lifted his shirt and stood, his back facing me. “I’m not lying.”
The only sound in the room was the echo of my phone impacting the floor.
(All I had time to write tonight, I’ll try and post more tomorrow hopefully)
| "Who do you think wrote that?"
"You?"
"Or you, maybe, my infinite reflection of light made more complicated to unfold, the reality simulation device flexes its processing power, but still it takes time to break down"
"The entropy given stored in memory to recreate an exact time and place on the reality simulation machine"
"and I've been here enough times to make the perfect statement that rhymes in iambic,
We aren't the same time travelers just exactly what was necessary to get here"
"The energy breakdown, entropy, recycled positive and negative, there is not nothing."
"Nothing ever is."
"Holy shit."
| |
[WP] A man claims to be from the future. You ask for proof, and what he shows you removes all doubt. | Just another day, another morning jog through Valmoor Park. It was one of the safer places in the big city to jog. Muggers very honorably stuck to only robbing people at night, and left when the sun came up. The kind of place where city workers picked up the empty beer cans, used condoms, and broken glass pipes every day at 7 am sharp. I usually went jogging at about 7:30.
They couldn't do anything about the homeless, though. The ones who'd found bushes or hidden culverts in the night, and woke with the sun. They sat on park benches, holding either full cups of coffee they'd bought at 7-11, or empty ones, held out ready for your pocket change. My running shorts had no pockets, and no change. I ignored these folks. I was on a mission. My waistline was the enemy, and at 38 years old, the battle was being hard fought. A new clash of calories versus movement, every morning.
And then, one day in the summer of 2014, my battle was interrupted.
I was rounding the trail bend where there's a children's playground, about 400 yards from the lake. Didn't really notice her as I passed. Just another homeless old gal, sitting on a bench, staring at me when I ran past. At that moment, I couldn't have even told you what she was wearing. I was in the zone - 1 mile down, 2 more to go. *Alice In Chains* pumping in my earbuds. Feet thudding the paved jogging trail.
She yelled it loud enough to be heard over the music.
**"CHRISTOPHER!!!"**
I stopped, turned. She stood next to the bench, eyes and mouth forming a trio of wide circles. Looking at me not just like she knew me, but like I was some kind of celebrity. I knew immediately that I'd never met her in my life.
One earbud popped out. "Excuse me?"
Tears spilled out of her eyes like a waterfall as she blinked, struggling for words, and started walking toward me. One of her dirty hands was outstretched.
"Chris," she said, voice cracking. "Oh my god. It's... what are you doing here?"
"Do I know you?" I refused to take a step back, but realized I would soon if she kept reaching for me like that.
"I..." She stopped. Her arm dropped like a flag when the wind suddenly quits. "Oh god. I don't know how to answer that. You will?"
At that second, this story might have stopped. I was tempted to say something like "Whatever, lady," and continue my run. She could have guessed my name, and she was probably just another homeless crackhead.
But as I looked at her, I realized she wasn't decked out like most homeless folks. Her hair was shoulder-cut, brown with a fair heaping of grey. The shirt she wore, although soiled, looked like something out of a designer boutique. Cream colored, with cutouts in the arms that showed her shoulders and elbows. What I'd first thought were dirty jeans, on closer inspection, were rayon women's slacks in dark blue. Rather than sneakers, she wore some strappy pumps that might have cost a lot, in good condition.
I stared into her face for a good fifteen seconds. No bells ringing. I was positive of that. In my job, it was absolutely vital that I remembered names and faces.
"How do you know me?" I asked, taking the other earbud out. My pulse stayed high. Sweat dampened my various parts that get sweaty on a run.
"I... we were lovers. Will be? Fuck." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, finally looking away from me. Her smile was sardonic. "This is *really* hard to explain."
"Oh really?" I couldn't keep the sarcasm out of my voice. This chick was somewhere bettween fifty and eighty, in that way a lot of homeless women look. No way in hell we'd ever been in bed.
"Not *now.* Later. Fuck. Please. Don't run away."
"Look," I said, glancing at the smartwatch on my wrist. "I have to be at the office in two hours."
"Christopher Emmanuel Hodgson, I know you well. Please just hear me out?"
That one sent ripples down my spine. I never tell anyone my middle name.
"You snore," she continued. "It's one of the reasons your first wife, god, uh... Casey? Left you. That and the not wanting kids thing." She started walking toward me again. "You take your coffee black when you can't get espresso with milk. You... you only eat steak cooked well done, although you never told me why. And you love scuba diving. Especially in New Manchera Bay."
"No, ah, wrong," I finally sputtered. She was three feet from me. Close enough to stab me, if she was a lunatic. But there was nothing in her hands. "I've never scuba dived in my life."
"Right. But you will." Carefully, as if approaching a wild animal, she reached out toward my hand. "I'm not from here, Chris."
I snatched my arm away. "What?"
"I'm not from *now.* I know this sounds ridiculous, but I'm from the year 2039."
I laughed. I couldn't help it. It wasn't that her words struck me as funny. The situation was just nuts, and I let out some tension in that laugh.
"Okay, freak, whatever," I said.
But her eyes had gone cold. Her brows furrowed together, and she squinted in a way that brought her crows' feet into sharp relief. The edges of her mouth tilted down in disappointment.
"You don't believe me. I get it."
"Nope." I backed away, reaching up to put my buds back in.
"But I know all about you Chris," she continued. There was a knife edge to her words. "I know about what you did in San Jose."
I froze.
"Yeah," she said, nodding curtly. "I know. *Everything.*"
"Lady, I went to college there. Is this some kind of stalking thing? Did someone..." I looked around, trying to fight the ice in my chest. "Who put you up to this?"
| The music was thumping, the lights were screaming and the wall of the club were dripping with sweat. It was Friday night and as usual we had gone to the Place.
-"A quiet one" James had said to me over the phone 5 hours ago.
It was now one in the morning and I was drunk as fuck.
A pint of Gin and Tonic, that's all it took. Why on earth did I decide to drink that at the pub? That's where everything tipped off, that's where the night changed; from boring talks on the latest event of the week to the right and wrong of the death penalty; from half-hearted questions where the answer doesn't matter as much as the question to embarrassing confessions about the real reason you were late on Tuesday. All of that because of James, all of that because he had decided that we needed to make "real" connection with the people I had been working with for 4 years.
It had been the casual "let's go somewhere else" when the pub had closed that led us to the Place. the latest club in town. And there we were, drunk, barely able to speak to each other, still wearing our work clothes - a 10 year old suit with tintin tie for me - and smoking as if lung cancer didn't existed.
Whilst pretending not to care, we were all trying to make contact. A quick glance to the left, a swift look to the right and a hand in the air to prove each other that we were having a good time.
Suddenly, it happened, it never happens usually, but tonight it did. Someone hot looked at me, a tight pair of blue jeans, two buttons down on a shirt colored with what looked like vomits, bright blue hair and smilling eyes. James winked at me and I made my move. Before I could realize, we were kissing. I had no idea how it happened but it did and I was quite happy about. For once I was the one getting some, and I knew that on Monday I was going to be at the center of conversion at The Gayrald, a daily newspaper treating exclusively about gay news in the world.
Whilst lost into my thought and not realising what was happening I heard:
-"do you wanna go downstairs?": The hot guy was talking to me.
Next thing I knew we were making out in the toilet of the club when suddenly he turned around and dropped his pants. He looked at me the eyes and said:
-"you're in for something very special, just relax and enjoy".
I looked down and saw what he meant. He didn't have an anus, instead a there were was a circular device made of metal, about 5cm wide that slowly opened as I looked. It filled with a blue, gel-like floating substance, kinda like one of those bubble blowing thing.
He saw the look of my face and reiterated: "relax and enjoy".
I don't what made me but I did, I relaxed, and inserted my penis into this metal whole filled with blue stuff and it felt amazing.
So good that I couldn't hold any longer and came. Normally that didn't happened, or at least I kept telling me that, but this time it was different, it was like all my nerve were telling my brain that this was pure happiness and it certainly felt like it.
Unfortunately reality came back. With a terrified expression of the hot guy's face:
- "you didn't wear a condom?" he said in alarming voice.
- "no, why?" I replied panicked.
- "my anus is not a simple anus, it is a Stargate!!I come from the future, I had that installed a few days ago after my colonscopy, It opens onto new dimensions, new civilizations, you just jezzed a primitive civilization!!": he explained in despair.
- "Is it really that bad?" I replied with a voice that wanted to sound serious but probably ended up sounding like a drunk hamster.
- "nah, it's alright, I've done it plenty of time but next time you will know not to do that" he said in a calmer voice.
He disappeared and I went back upstairs at the sounds of Katy Perry and that is the last thing I remember from that night.
| |
[WP] A man claims to be from the future. You ask for proof, and what he shows you removes all doubt. | The red of my knuckles faded to a stark white as I tightened my grip on the doorframe, debating whether or not I should stop my sudden visitor from wildly unplugging my various living room appliances. Physically confronting a crazed individual was a decidedly bad idea, so instead I watched, and I waited. One thing was clear; I should have never let this man enter my home.
An eternity of minutes passed while I watched him wander the room, his eyes flicking about wildly while muttering incomprehensibly under his breath. Perhaps when he realized he had run out of plugs he would take his vendetta against electronics elsewhere, I mused. In fact…
“Hey, uh, buddy? Looks like you got all of them. They won’t be hurting anybody anymore, eh? Heh…”
My shaky laugh was cut off with an upturned index finger, held back at me while the other ran along the wall into the corner. It began to probe up and down, searching for something that wasn’t there as his other hand dug in his pocket.
“Ethernet cable was over there man, you already got it. There’s nothing…”
Again I was cut off by his brandished digit, though this time there was what looked to be a fishing hook clasped between his thumb and middle fingers. I exhaled sharply as he began to scratch at the tan paint, thoroughly fed up with the whole situation. Preparing to give him a piece of my mind I stepped forewords, my clammy and achy hand balled up from grasping the frame for so long. My protest died in my throat however, as a triumphant bark of laughter resounded through the room. Going in with the hook, the strange man pressed and tugged, producing a thin beige cord from the once flat surface. Not pausing for a second, he brought the wire to his mouth, ripping through it with a quick jerk of his neck and grind of teeth.
His shoulders slumped as he turned to look back at me, grinning wide and brushing his matted white hair back.
“There,” he gestured at the couch, “now we can talk.”
Taken aback by his sudden shift in demeanor, as well as the unveiling of the previously hidden wire, I remained standing in the doorway.
“N…no, I think I’ll stay standing thanks.”
“Suit yourself.” He shrugged, taking the seat himself.
I stepped back between the frames, awkwardly propping myself up with an arm as I tried to treat this stranger like an old friend, if only for my sake.
“So…” I looked everywhere but the sofa, “what brings you by? Were you like, a previous tenant or something?”
“Nope, never been here in my life. Nice place by the way.”
“Well then… “I peered at him with concern “Why are you here?”
He shifted around awkwardly, staring at the ground as he struggled with something internally. After a few openings and closings of his mouth, he sucked in his breath and said:
“I… Heh. I just thought I should come visit my brother.”
The room grew cold as my rage built, my fists now clenched in anger.
“My brother is dead asshole. Been dead for years.”
“He’s not. I mean, I’m not. And it gets worse” he smirked, “I’m also from the future.”
“Awesome. Of course you are.” I pulled out my cell phone and brandished it at him, “I’m calling the cops.”
His eyes grew wide and pleading as he put his palm up. “No, Wait!” He lifted his shirt and stood, his back facing me. “I’m not lying.”
The only sound in the room was the echo of my phone impacting the floor.
(All I had time to write tonight, I’ll try and post more tomorrow hopefully)
| The music was thumping, the lights were screaming and the wall of the club were dripping with sweat. It was Friday night and as usual we had gone to the Place.
-"A quiet one" James had said to me over the phone 5 hours ago.
It was now one in the morning and I was drunk as fuck.
A pint of Gin and Tonic, that's all it took. Why on earth did I decide to drink that at the pub? That's where everything tipped off, that's where the night changed; from boring talks on the latest event of the week to the right and wrong of the death penalty; from half-hearted questions where the answer doesn't matter as much as the question to embarrassing confessions about the real reason you were late on Tuesday. All of that because of James, all of that because he had decided that we needed to make "real" connection with the people I had been working with for 4 years.
It had been the casual "let's go somewhere else" when the pub had closed that led us to the Place. the latest club in town. And there we were, drunk, barely able to speak to each other, still wearing our work clothes - a 10 year old suit with tintin tie for me - and smoking as if lung cancer didn't existed.
Whilst pretending not to care, we were all trying to make contact. A quick glance to the left, a swift look to the right and a hand in the air to prove each other that we were having a good time.
Suddenly, it happened, it never happens usually, but tonight it did. Someone hot looked at me, a tight pair of blue jeans, two buttons down on a shirt colored with what looked like vomits, bright blue hair and smilling eyes. James winked at me and I made my move. Before I could realize, we were kissing. I had no idea how it happened but it did and I was quite happy about. For once I was the one getting some, and I knew that on Monday I was going to be at the center of conversion at The Gayrald, a daily newspaper treating exclusively about gay news in the world.
Whilst lost into my thought and not realising what was happening I heard:
-"do you wanna go downstairs?": The hot guy was talking to me.
Next thing I knew we were making out in the toilet of the club when suddenly he turned around and dropped his pants. He looked at me the eyes and said:
-"you're in for something very special, just relax and enjoy".
I looked down and saw what he meant. He didn't have an anus, instead a there were was a circular device made of metal, about 5cm wide that slowly opened as I looked. It filled with a blue, gel-like floating substance, kinda like one of those bubble blowing thing.
He saw the look of my face and reiterated: "relax and enjoy".
I don't what made me but I did, I relaxed, and inserted my penis into this metal whole filled with blue stuff and it felt amazing.
So good that I couldn't hold any longer and came. Normally that didn't happened, or at least I kept telling me that, but this time it was different, it was like all my nerve were telling my brain that this was pure happiness and it certainly felt like it.
Unfortunately reality came back. With a terrified expression of the hot guy's face:
- "you didn't wear a condom?" he said in alarming voice.
- "no, why?" I replied panicked.
- "my anus is not a simple anus, it is a Stargate!!I come from the future, I had that installed a few days ago after my colonscopy, It opens onto new dimensions, new civilizations, you just jezzed a primitive civilization!!": he explained in despair.
- "Is it really that bad?" I replied with a voice that wanted to sound serious but probably ended up sounding like a drunk hamster.
- "nah, it's alright, I've done it plenty of time but next time you will know not to do that" he said in a calmer voice.
He disappeared and I went back upstairs at the sounds of Katy Perry and that is the last thing I remember from that night.
| |
[WP] A man claims to be from the future. You ask for proof, and what he shows you removes all doubt. | "Bullshit, just get out of my way man."
"No wait, I have something that may change your mind!"
"Fine, just show me."
He pulled out a laptop, and fiddled with it for a few moments.
"Come on, just show me already."
"Wait a sec" he fiddled a little bit more "here you go!", he pressed the laptop onto my hands.
I took a look at the screen, in it I saw a very familiar logo, but with the number three beside it...
"Is this?" I asked, voice trembling with awe.
"It is." He said, with a smug ´I told you so´ look on his face.
"Glorious..." I whispered back, breath taken by the majestic sight.
For displayed on the screen was...
.
.
.
Left 4 dead 3, tactical hatz edition. | The music was thumping, the lights were screaming and the wall of the club were dripping with sweat. It was Friday night and as usual we had gone to the Place.
-"A quiet one" James had said to me over the phone 5 hours ago.
It was now one in the morning and I was drunk as fuck.
A pint of Gin and Tonic, that's all it took. Why on earth did I decide to drink that at the pub? That's where everything tipped off, that's where the night changed; from boring talks on the latest event of the week to the right and wrong of the death penalty; from half-hearted questions where the answer doesn't matter as much as the question to embarrassing confessions about the real reason you were late on Tuesday. All of that because of James, all of that because he had decided that we needed to make "real" connection with the people I had been working with for 4 years.
It had been the casual "let's go somewhere else" when the pub had closed that led us to the Place. the latest club in town. And there we were, drunk, barely able to speak to each other, still wearing our work clothes - a 10 year old suit with tintin tie for me - and smoking as if lung cancer didn't existed.
Whilst pretending not to care, we were all trying to make contact. A quick glance to the left, a swift look to the right and a hand in the air to prove each other that we were having a good time.
Suddenly, it happened, it never happens usually, but tonight it did. Someone hot looked at me, a tight pair of blue jeans, two buttons down on a shirt colored with what looked like vomits, bright blue hair and smilling eyes. James winked at me and I made my move. Before I could realize, we were kissing. I had no idea how it happened but it did and I was quite happy about. For once I was the one getting some, and I knew that on Monday I was going to be at the center of conversion at The Gayrald, a daily newspaper treating exclusively about gay news in the world.
Whilst lost into my thought and not realising what was happening I heard:
-"do you wanna go downstairs?": The hot guy was talking to me.
Next thing I knew we were making out in the toilet of the club when suddenly he turned around and dropped his pants. He looked at me the eyes and said:
-"you're in for something very special, just relax and enjoy".
I looked down and saw what he meant. He didn't have an anus, instead a there were was a circular device made of metal, about 5cm wide that slowly opened as I looked. It filled with a blue, gel-like floating substance, kinda like one of those bubble blowing thing.
He saw the look of my face and reiterated: "relax and enjoy".
I don't what made me but I did, I relaxed, and inserted my penis into this metal whole filled with blue stuff and it felt amazing.
So good that I couldn't hold any longer and came. Normally that didn't happened, or at least I kept telling me that, but this time it was different, it was like all my nerve were telling my brain that this was pure happiness and it certainly felt like it.
Unfortunately reality came back. With a terrified expression of the hot guy's face:
- "you didn't wear a condom?" he said in alarming voice.
- "no, why?" I replied panicked.
- "my anus is not a simple anus, it is a Stargate!!I come from the future, I had that installed a few days ago after my colonscopy, It opens onto new dimensions, new civilizations, you just jezzed a primitive civilization!!": he explained in despair.
- "Is it really that bad?" I replied with a voice that wanted to sound serious but probably ended up sounding like a drunk hamster.
- "nah, it's alright, I've done it plenty of time but next time you will know not to do that" he said in a calmer voice.
He disappeared and I went back upstairs at the sounds of Katy Perry and that is the last thing I remember from that night.
| |
[WP] A man claims to be from the future. You ask for proof, and what he shows you removes all doubt. | "Bullshit, just get out of my way man."
"No wait, I have something that may change your mind!"
"Fine, just show me."
He pulled out a laptop, and fiddled with it for a few moments.
"Come on, just show me already."
"Wait a sec" he fiddled a little bit more "here you go!", he pressed the laptop onto my hands.
I took a look at the screen, in it I saw a very familiar logo, but with the number three beside it...
"Is this?" I asked, voice trembling with awe.
"It is." He said, with a smug ´I told you so´ look on his face.
"Glorious..." I whispered back, breath taken by the majestic sight.
For displayed on the screen was...
.
.
.
Left 4 dead 3, tactical hatz edition. | I went to the bar after work. I ordered a pitcher of beer. I had the pool table all to myself. I thought about my life. What's the point? Nobody likes me. I have no friends. I have no family. I'm lucky to have a job. But every day I drink until I'm numb. Its the only pleasure I have. When I'm drunk, everything feels amazing. I dance at every song the jukebox plays. I sing along, slurring the words. Everyone at the bar is looking at me. Unfavorably. I would normally care. I would normally feel really self conscious about that. But not when I'm drunk. All those bad thoughts just melt away.
I went to the bar again the next day. Before I could buy my first pitcher of beer, a man in a suit offered to buy it for me. There was something very familiar about the man, but I couldn't place it. He had a huge smile on his face. He stuck his hand out to shake my hand. "You're not going to believe this," he said. "I'm you, from the future!" And then I realized what I had missed before. The reason he looked so familiar was that he looked like a more handsome version of myself. He was well groomed and well dressed. He was fit. He was happy.
"I'm here to help you," he said. | |
[WP] Instead of Oceans, they are all big forests, that gets taller and darker instead of deeper, with more dangerous animals living further out in the forest. A person decides to cross the Mariana Trench | Cool wind whipped around my body, blowing my hood off and exposing my head to the freezing air. My numb fingers passed my numbing ears, and reclaimed the hood, pulling it around me once more. It hardly offered respite from the cold. The most insulating fabrics on my body felt diaphanous in those conditions.
We were deep. Deeper than any man had ever been. The trees around us stretched inexorably upwards, endlessly high, creeping towards the sunlight and claiming it all for themselves. The path behind us was visible only when illuminated by the beams of our flashlights and the path before us did not yet exist. We wordlessly hacked our way through the thick underbrush, winding a serpentine route through the increasingly arduous terrain. The off-road vehicle carrying our supplies and sleeping quarters lurched slowly behind me.
There were four of us, myself and three others. Four of the most seasoned explorers of forest regions in the world- Cook, Magellan, Vespucci, and Columbus, you might have called us, had you looked towards the famous tales of seafaring explorers for inspiration. Our story, however, was not one of fiction. The seventy percent of the earth covered by these dense woodlands remained largely unexplored, and our intent was to conquer the largest of the unexplored, the Marianas Trench. Over fifteen hundred miles deep, the trench was the lowest point on earth, and contained creatures so strange and gruesome, some say it must have stretched deep enough to crack into hell itself and free the demons from their fiery prison.
Hulbert was our leader, a tall man with a large mustache, offset by his mostly bald head. He and I were typically in front, snaking our way through the undergrowth like a scouting party behind enemy lines. Iaquinta, Hulbert’s antithesis, a short, tanned man with a thick shock of black hair, could often be found behind the wheel, and Ulrich, lanky young man with blond hair, spent most of his time substituting in for Hulbert or I, when one of us acquiesced a break.
We made slow progress initially, but after about one day, our party hit its stride, and we began moving at a steady rate. We had anticipated smooth sailing, however plans rarely go as expected, and ours was no exception.
| Continuation of story above:
“What happened?” I asked Hugo.
It took Hugo sometime to regain himself. “This isn't the bottom” Hugo finally replied.
The silence after Hugo’s answer was deafening. In response, Chaucer shuffled closer to where Hugo disappeared. Chaucer lit a flare and dropped it into the inky black hole. The flare could be seen bouncing and scraping off of several crisscrossing structures. After a few seconds the flare disappeared from view. I could feel excitement course through my body as I realized what this new information meant. As I sat hoping to process this new information a roar filled the void. My excitement instantly turned into terror.
As I looked up, all of the altophiles in the area fled. The ground began to shake. I looked at Hugo and Chaucer. The fear was ever present in their eyes. “We need to get back to the helicopter” I said to both men. No one disagreed. As Chaucer and I went to make sure Hugo could walk, he could, the ground moved again. Grabbing the lines we started to ascend to the surface. The air had all of a sudden seemed closer than it had earlier. No matter, we had to make it back to the helicopter. As the ascent continued more sounds could be heard from below.
What took three days to descend only took one to ascend. The forest shook around us as we climbed. The darkness was ever present and the hunter was always on our minds.
“We are almost to the copter!” Hugo yelled.
Thank the gods that the path had been cleared on the descent as it made the climb all the easier. I made it to the helicopter landing zone first. I turned and helped Hugo up. After Hugo was up I turned to help Chaucer. As I pulled Chaucer up Chaucer let out a gasp. I looked down and saw a barb sticking though his middle. I yanked Chaucer up onto the trunk as blood started to soak Chaucer’s tan jacket.
“Look out!” Hugo warned as he sprinted towards the helicopter. I looked up to see a creature, the size of a sedan, with many pointy barbs covering its body not unlike a porcupine. This creature had longer arms and hooks for hands to allow easy access to the many branches in the Mariana Grove. The creature started to move towards the trunk in which the helicopter sat. I reached out towards Chaucer, but he was already dead. I picked myself up and made a break for the helicopter. I had cleared half the distance to the helicopter as the creature landed on the trunk. Hugo started the engine as I looked over my shoulder.
The creature had grabbed Chaucer and had sucked him down its throat in one swift motion. I now had reached the chopper. “Go! Go! Go!” I yelled. Hugo did not need any encouragement as he punched the throttle to max. The helicopter groaned under the request and lifted off. Thinking that the helicopter was safe I relaxed. A scrapping sound could be heard. The beast had started to sling shot its way to the helicopter.
“It’s coming up Hugo!” I screamed in panic. Hugo banked the helicopter to the left, but it was too late. The back end of the helicopter exploded into flame as the monster crashed into the helicopter tail. “Shit!” I yelled. The copter started to spin as Hugo strained to maintain control. I just managed to buckle myself into a back seat as g forces increased. Hugo was shouting a mayday call into the radio. As the helicopter descended the world became dark.
I awoke with an iron taste in my mouth. I opened my eyes, but there was nothing to see as it was pitch black. “Hugo are you alright?” I asked the dark. Seconds went by.
“Hugo?!”
I heard a moan to my right. Hugo was alive. I unbuckled myself and turned on my portable flashlight. I went to the front of the helicopter. Hugo’s head was bleeding, but he was going to be alright. Hugo unbuckled himself. We exited the helicopter through the front as the glass was broken and the rest of the helicopter was indistinguishable.
“We need to make it to the Philippine outpost” I said.
“That’s several days away.”
“We need to try.”
A distant roar could be heard above us. We were being hunted.
| |
[WP] Instead of Oceans, they are all big forests, that gets taller and darker instead of deeper, with more dangerous animals living further out in the forest. A person decides to cross the Mariana Trench | It was a subtle shift. I didn’t see it so much as feel it. The forest didn’t get darker, merely got heavier, the silence, deeper. Night fell. There was no wind. How could there be? The trees were monolithic. Each trunk was twice as thick again as I could run in five minutes, their branches spanning the sky, each leaf blotting out more of the sun, mingling with its neighbour, an unmoving canopy that roofed the world far above my head.
A noise broke the silence, the sound of a snapping twig. I halted, thrusting my torch higher in the air, to the left of my eyes. The flames burned brightly, but did not reveal the source. If I had to fight, I would, though running was the better option. Many things lived in this forest. Things that could rip me to shreds without a modest effort. I would not fall because a sword had hampered my escape. I dropped into a crouch and drew a long knife from my belt, lowering the hood of my black forest cloak.
Another sound, like the barest whisper of dry leaves across bare stone. Quickly, I smothered the torch. Blackness dropped and I heard the individual footsteps of the approaching creature. In my stoop, I crept to a hollow in one of the great roots of the nearest mountain-tree. My hand brushed the old wood, the section had been undisturbed and grown over with moss. The dampness soothed my nerves and I went prone, laying in the mud. A trickle of mud slid into my boots; mud soaked my chest and legs. I pulled my hood up again, to hide any shine from my sweat laden skin, any sound my held breath may have released. My eyes slowly adjusted in the gloom, my heart beating like mad in my chest. Shapes began to take form in the darkness.
I saw it. The beast was massive. It looked like a wolf, if a wolf had stolen its skin from the bark of a tree. Moss hung from its maw, its eyes shone a pale, acid green, and shone through the night. Teeth and fangs of stone gnashed and its bark skin stood at the hackles. It smelled me. Or the fire I had recently put out. It stepped toward me. I fought my screaming instincts. I wouldn’t run. It could have me in a second. I focused on staying still. On not breathing. On calming my wildly beating heart so that its sound would not betray me.
A great sound filled that terrible moment. Like the groaning of a falling tree. It started low and raised in pitch to a wailing high, somewhere far in the distance. The great wolf cocked its head and its ears perked forward and swivelled to locate the direction of that call. I nearly couldn’t contain myself. In that second, it looked more like a quizzical puppy, than a beast intent on devouring me. I swallowed my insane laughter and kept silent. Odd what the prospect of death will do to one’s sense of humour. The wolf stepped back, tilted its head and replied to the call in kind. The eerie, forest howl of that wolf would haunt me. The beast turned to me once more before departing, then bounded into the darkness, leaving me to silence again.
After many long minutes I rose from the nook, sheathing my blade and wiping the thick green moss from my hands and cloak. I backtracked the way I had come from, only now seeing the signs of the wolves’ territory. Paw prints in the dirt, old bones of other, smaller creatures that on first glance had looked to be thin, pale branches. Clear edge markings now made their way into my limited sight, deep claw marks in the massive trees. I was now outside the wolves’ domain. A sharp snarl filled the air and I spun about, another wolf had leaped to the top of one of the roots. It jumped again and landed in front of me, hardly stirring the ground it landed on and making not a sound. It looked me in the eye. I lowered my hands. Appearing threatening would only provoke it. The beast barked and laid down on the path I had just walked from, at the very edge of its territory. A low growl filled the air and I backed away, step by step. Its shape faded into the darkness, but its quick eyes followed me until I backed into the root of another tree.
I turned and ran along the root until I reached the point where it penetrated the earth. I followed it back along the other side, hoping it would lead to a hollow. To somewhere I could sleep, safe from the horrors of the night. When I reached the base of the tree, I was in luck. I crawled into the space, too small for most animals this deep in the forest to fit. Inside there was a pool in the center, fed by a trickle from the ceiling, that in turn drained into a crack on the other side, likely going on to feed a root of the behemoth tree. | It was dawn on a Sunday, misty clouds move sleepily away from the village they covered. The sun weakly shines down through remaining fog and finds the boy's face through a greasy window.
Dwayne Ronaldo Randal Earnheart was a 14 year old employed at a hole-in-the-wall pizza joint that would have been bankrupt but for two reasons: The pizza place was a front, run by the village mob elder's two nephews, and The Mariana Sauce.
Ever since the trade embargo with the Moose-riding Lilac Gypsies from the North sector few had been brave enough to venture through the trench to the lands of Mariana, famous for the crawling moss that lives at the bottom of the forest, where even the brightest light does not penetrate.
Many have been lost in the quest for this moss, this 'herb'. Many others have succumb to madness in the dark isolation of the Mariana Trench. It is said that if you are traveling in the Trench and your light extinguishes to leave it, for if you are to re-illuminate yourself you will find you are no longer alone. Nobody would venture through the forest, save for greed.
The Mariana Moss has psychoactive properties and is extremely euphoria-inducing, the price for 500g was more than any of the humble land-tenders or animal-husbandriers could hope to make in even the best year.
Dwayne's Uncle (we'll call him Blowtorch Nick for the sake of decency) saw his opportunity to shine in the light of his Uncle's eyes, finally earning the respect of the rest of the family. Nick knew that sending his brother's son on this quest was absolute insanity, but the pizza place has bills to pay, and Blowtorch Nick had little Mariana left.
Dwayne scampered out the door, he had just been handed a bag and instructions by his uncle, and was told to tell nobody what he was doing, especially not his father Garbanzo -- a perpetually angry man who lusted for blood. | |
[WP] Instead of Oceans, they are all big forests, that gets taller and darker instead of deeper, with more dangerous animals living further out in the forest. A person decides to cross the Mariana Trench | My wits had near left me, I was so frightened.
In our arrogance, we believed ourselves the strongest of all species. Yet, every time someone braved the oceans, they came back with gruesome stories of horrible monsters and terrifying darkness. As far as I can remember, I was always fascinated by the Pacific Ocean. The most frightening tales always came from those dark, green depths. I grew up and attended college, with the intent to study ocean life and its environment.
The farther exploration parties delved into them, the stranger the stories became. The creatures, however, were what I always was the most fascinated with. Beasts bigger than my own apartment and tiny tree-dwellers with glowing bodies. School was not difficult for me as I was studying what I loved.
One of my professors, a regular explorer during the summer, took me under his wing. After learning about my passion, he promised to get me a good field job after I graduated.
That job is why I am here now. Mariana’s Trench, the largest ocean forest known to man. I hunch underneath the gnarled roots of a massive tree, two hands over my mouth. Faint wheezes emanated from between my fingers, but thankfully much quieter than it would have been otherwise. The weight of the .32 pistol on my hip did nothing to assuage my fears. It was empty anyway. We were two weeks’ worth of marching into the Trench before it started hunting us. We ran for at least four days before I was the last left. I had been running for a week and a half, slowly spiraling into insanity. Distant rumblings caused by some enormous beast and unearthly screeches were my two constant companions. I was used to those noises by now.
The slithering noise, so quiet and deadly, startled me from my pointless thoughts.
I was scared witless now.
There was no coherent thought, no recollection of what followed. Only the need to run. I did run as fast as I could, deeper and deeper into hell. I gasped for breath, stopping only once to catch it. It didn’t matter. Consistently, the thing would find me after five minutes or so.
I ran some more.
Morning found me curled on the broad limb of a tree. I don’t know how I got there but the broken nails and scrapped limbs were telling. I had been very desperate to get away. Whatever was happening to me, I was losing my mind. The trees themselves were a wonder. Rather, the tree was a wonder. There was no singular tree, they were all connected. Leafy foliage stretching from trunk to trunk, branches tangled together. The flora was a fantastic blend of bright colors and fantastic shapes. Most had some form of dangerous defense mechanism.
Of the fauna…it was best to stay away from ninety percent of them. Most were poisonous or venomous and all were deadly. The sting ray was one of the strangest and most dangerous. It used its belly muscle to crawl up trees, blending in with the bark. It would then release itself when prey came near, gliding through the air before stabbing its victim with its barbed stinger.
My breath hitched as I knew there were things much, much more dangerous than the sting ray. I opened my flat pack and scrabbled through it, searching for the leather-bound book. Inside, it contained knowledge of all things that had been discovered in Mariana’s Trench.
I flipped through it feverishly, knowing that I had maybe half a day before it discovered me again. That’s how it happened, day in and day out. I would hid until it found me and then we’d be off again. I’d find some place to hide for the night until either it found me or some other deadly danger forced me to run.
I spent all my spare time searching through the large book for some hint of what it was that was hunting me. It was no easy task as the book was nearly as large as a dictionary.
I skimmed through about thirty pages of text before I was hungry. I had taken to hunting the crabs that lift on the forest floor. My machete and hatchet, originally meant for clearing paths, served me well enough in that area.
The book had a list of non-poisonous plants for vegetables. Forest weeds were bland but they didn't kill me so I ate them as well. I wrapped my fingers with strips of cloth torn from what used to be one of my shirts.
I sat over my kill, wrapping each piece of meat with weeds before swallowing the food. It was revolting after eating only that for so long but it kept me healthy.
I woke up, a sense of impending danger making the hairs of my neck stand on end. I cursed myself silently for a fool. I had actually fallen asleep on the floor of the forest, a very stupid thing to do.
I was so tired but I forced myself to stand, preparing mentally. I knew what had woken me up. It was what usually woke me up.
There.
*Ksssthhhhhssssss*. Pause. *Kchhhhhkkshhhhhh.* A longer pause this time. *Shhhhthkshhhhhh ch ch chhhhh.* *Shhhk shhk shhhhhhtthhhhhshk shkkk.*
The last variation of slithering and almost unnoticeable thunks let me know it had caught my scent.
And so I ran.
The sound was closer today. I quietly gasped, crouching in a good size copse. It was too close and yet I hadn't noticed. My senses were dulled from lack of sleep.
The shape reared up, a good fifteen feet high. The dim light of the forest made its skin gleam, though it was hard to tell what its skin actually was composed of.
It had a long, serpentine neck from what I could see. I would have thought it was a massive snake but the soft *shthunk* it made when it moved convinced me otherwise. It was obviously a very heavy beast.
*Hssssshhhh.* I heard it take in a breath of air. A dim light emanated from it now and for a brief second I thought it was a bioluminescent animal.
I was wrong.
*Cont.* | It was dawn on a Sunday, misty clouds move sleepily away from the village they covered. The sun weakly shines down through remaining fog and finds the boy's face through a greasy window.
Dwayne Ronaldo Randal Earnheart was a 14 year old employed at a hole-in-the-wall pizza joint that would have been bankrupt but for two reasons: The pizza place was a front, run by the village mob elder's two nephews, and The Mariana Sauce.
Ever since the trade embargo with the Moose-riding Lilac Gypsies from the North sector few had been brave enough to venture through the trench to the lands of Mariana, famous for the crawling moss that lives at the bottom of the forest, where even the brightest light does not penetrate.
Many have been lost in the quest for this moss, this 'herb'. Many others have succumb to madness in the dark isolation of the Mariana Trench. It is said that if you are traveling in the Trench and your light extinguishes to leave it, for if you are to re-illuminate yourself you will find you are no longer alone. Nobody would venture through the forest, save for greed.
The Mariana Moss has psychoactive properties and is extremely euphoria-inducing, the price for 500g was more than any of the humble land-tenders or animal-husbandriers could hope to make in even the best year.
Dwayne's Uncle (we'll call him Blowtorch Nick for the sake of decency) saw his opportunity to shine in the light of his Uncle's eyes, finally earning the respect of the rest of the family. Nick knew that sending his brother's son on this quest was absolute insanity, but the pizza place has bills to pay, and Blowtorch Nick had little Mariana left.
Dwayne scampered out the door, he had just been handed a bag and instructions by his uncle, and was told to tell nobody what he was doing, especially not his father Garbanzo -- a perpetually angry man who lusted for blood. | |
[WP] Instead of Oceans, they are all big forests, that gets taller and darker instead of deeper, with more dangerous animals living further out in the forest. A person decides to cross the Mariana Trench | September 22, 2035
"This is the first day that I have decided to start using this damned audio recorder. My doctor thought it would help keep my head on straight while I was heading on what he called," a mad mans journey" but I say, Screw him! The guy was a crackpot anyway."
September 25, 2035
"These trees are getting really creepy. I lost all natural light about noon today, and all of the normal animals like deer, rabbits, and birds are gone now. This whole trip is starting to seem like a bad idea, but screw it, I'm gonna see what the hell is up with this big trench. I remember some crazy old man shouting something about the trench, but it was probably just meaningless nonsense."
September 27, 2035
"According to the directions I got from the forest master near the treeline, the trench should be only a half a days journey. I'm glad I'm almost there, because my rations are almost at the halfway mark, and at this point, I won't have enough to make it back.
About half a day after my last recording, almost all normal animals have disappeared. Save for all kinds of creepy insects and plants, I haven't seen anything except for these freaky-ass trees. I finally remembered that the crazy old guy down by the treeline claimed to have been to the trench and seen a great monster that lived there. supposedly it tried to lure in travellers by sounding like a woman asking for help, but if you listened closely, you could tell that it was actually the monster. An interesting story, but the geezer was as nutty as it gets, so I don't give it much credit."
September 29, 2035
"Finally made it to the trench and might I say, it is creepy as hell. The trees just kind of drop off into a rocky cliff, and I can't see anything down there. I can barely see anything as it is, I have to use a headlamp to see at all."
*snap*
"What the hell was that?"
"Please... I need..."
"Hold on just as second! what do you need?"
" I need..."
"Is it food? Are you injured?"
" I need about tree fiddy."
" OH GOD NO!!!"
*bones snapping, screaming, and flesh tearing*
*The great reptilian beast lifts it's head from the new corpse*
" Nessie, you've outdone yourself this time." | It was dawn on a Sunday, misty clouds move sleepily away from the village they covered. The sun weakly shines down through remaining fog and finds the boy's face through a greasy window.
Dwayne Ronaldo Randal Earnheart was a 14 year old employed at a hole-in-the-wall pizza joint that would have been bankrupt but for two reasons: The pizza place was a front, run by the village mob elder's two nephews, and The Mariana Sauce.
Ever since the trade embargo with the Moose-riding Lilac Gypsies from the North sector few had been brave enough to venture through the trench to the lands of Mariana, famous for the crawling moss that lives at the bottom of the forest, where even the brightest light does not penetrate.
Many have been lost in the quest for this moss, this 'herb'. Many others have succumb to madness in the dark isolation of the Mariana Trench. It is said that if you are traveling in the Trench and your light extinguishes to leave it, for if you are to re-illuminate yourself you will find you are no longer alone. Nobody would venture through the forest, save for greed.
The Mariana Moss has psychoactive properties and is extremely euphoria-inducing, the price for 500g was more than any of the humble land-tenders or animal-husbandriers could hope to make in even the best year.
Dwayne's Uncle (we'll call him Blowtorch Nick for the sake of decency) saw his opportunity to shine in the light of his Uncle's eyes, finally earning the respect of the rest of the family. Nick knew that sending his brother's son on this quest was absolute insanity, but the pizza place has bills to pay, and Blowtorch Nick had little Mariana left.
Dwayne scampered out the door, he had just been handed a bag and instructions by his uncle, and was told to tell nobody what he was doing, especially not his father Garbanzo -- a perpetually angry man who lusted for blood. | |
[WP] Instead of Oceans, they are all big forests, that gets taller and darker instead of deeper, with more dangerous animals living further out in the forest. A person decides to cross the Mariana Trench | Crossing the vastly unexplored trench seemed like a good idea at the time. Imagine the headlines - world's most daring explorer.
But the darkness was absolute. The length of the trees were almost eternal. The circumference of the trees themselves would take hours to completely travel around. And that was just an estimation. Daylight is just a myth.`
The darkness was expected. I was prepared. But there was something else. The creatures. This is where prehistoric animals still exist. Creatures that haven't seen daylight since their ancestors descended through the forest to seek shelter from the apocalypse millennia's ago. Some of them have almost unprecedented sizes. You stumble across an animal so small, you can easily grab it and eat it. Then you come across animals so large, you thank whatever God you believe in that they can't see the thin prick of light illuminating the way from your hands.
I know I'm being hunted. These creatures, they can't even see. Eyes are useless at this point. The darkness is so strong, so infinite, so consuming, that nothing can see. Daylight is a myth. I estimate a creature roughly the size of a bear is coming for me. I've seen it. It's funny that a creature with no sight still has eyes so large it's almost comical. Silvery mottled skin with transparent patches. Scars cover it's body. It might be the size of a bear, but that's the only thing it has in common with a bear. The jagged teeth so sharp and so irregularly placed that they have cut through the creature's cheeks on an almost daily basis.
I am going to die.
The sweeping winds mask my scent, but only hasten my death. Even the trees cannot shelter me, for the wind seems to come from every direction. I was not prepared for this. The cold, cold so bad it simply hurts where it touches. Cold so horrific your bones are cold. To feel it in your bones...
This will be my last entry in my video journal. My final moments on this Earth will be spent alone, in the cold and the dark. Daylight is a myth. Even my flash light will only illuminate the way so far. The darkness simply consumes it.
I can see the creature. It has been standing there since I've started, close enough for the flash light to reflect off its eyes. Why has it been waiting? More important, how does it know where I am when it can't see?
| It was dawn on a Sunday, misty clouds move sleepily away from the village they covered. The sun weakly shines down through remaining fog and finds the boy's face through a greasy window.
Dwayne Ronaldo Randal Earnheart was a 14 year old employed at a hole-in-the-wall pizza joint that would have been bankrupt but for two reasons: The pizza place was a front, run by the village mob elder's two nephews, and The Mariana Sauce.
Ever since the trade embargo with the Moose-riding Lilac Gypsies from the North sector few had been brave enough to venture through the trench to the lands of Mariana, famous for the crawling moss that lives at the bottom of the forest, where even the brightest light does not penetrate.
Many have been lost in the quest for this moss, this 'herb'. Many others have succumb to madness in the dark isolation of the Mariana Trench. It is said that if you are traveling in the Trench and your light extinguishes to leave it, for if you are to re-illuminate yourself you will find you are no longer alone. Nobody would venture through the forest, save for greed.
The Mariana Moss has psychoactive properties and is extremely euphoria-inducing, the price for 500g was more than any of the humble land-tenders or animal-husbandriers could hope to make in even the best year.
Dwayne's Uncle (we'll call him Blowtorch Nick for the sake of decency) saw his opportunity to shine in the light of his Uncle's eyes, finally earning the respect of the rest of the family. Nick knew that sending his brother's son on this quest was absolute insanity, but the pizza place has bills to pay, and Blowtorch Nick had little Mariana left.
Dwayne scampered out the door, he had just been handed a bag and instructions by his uncle, and was told to tell nobody what he was doing, especially not his father Garbanzo -- a perpetually angry man who lusted for blood. | |
[WP] Instead of Oceans, they are all big forests, that gets taller and darker instead of deeper, with more dangerous animals living further out in the forest. A person decides to cross the Mariana Trench | Few men have ever tried to cross the Mariana jungle. Those who have are yet to return. While they tell me i'll die, I know I'm gonna be the first to do it.
The trees aren't too tall on the eastern coast of the Philippines, but you can't look far into the horizons before the looming wooden pillars block the sun. My cameraman is at my side, a nervous look on his face. The people at the beach are staring, I can't blame them considering what we're wearing. Our forest navigation gear and large backpacks don't match the local style much.
"Ready?" I ask Tom. He looks back at me, "As ready as I'll ever be, I suppose".
We make our way towards the trees. They're spread out for now, few shrubs stand in our path. The muddy earth already sticks to our boots, but I can't be hindered by dirt. I march on, Tom close behind.
"What are you expecting to find?" He asks, looking back at the beach. "Whatever it is that's killed those before us, I hope. We'll be the first to bring back it's bones!" I can tell my determined look scares him. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't shitting my pants, but this expedition will prove valuable to ecologists around the globe.
We carry rifles, but my main weapon will be my flood light. The animals out there won't be used to anything that bright, if I'm right it should scare them off, while lighting them up perfectly for some pictures. The air is already fairly thin, and it's getting darker every hour we march on. I talk little to Tom, I've never been one for small talk and I know he doesn't mind. The silence is calming to me. A few monkeys crawl around the trees, meters high by now, but we aren't nearly deep enough in yet to worry about wildlife. We came for that which no man has seen before, we haven't even made a new record for deepest expedition yet.
We march on, as the leaves grow denser and sunlight becomes rarer. We soon switch to our lights, and the roots and shrubs make the ground hard to walk on.
"It's been six hours." Tom says after countless silent steps. "It's already ten o clock." Not having sun messes with your sense of time more than I expected. It seemed like it had only been an hour ago since we left the coast. "Alright" I reply, walking on. "When do you want to take a break?". "About now actually" he says, stopping. "I'm already hungry."
"We only have food for three weeks, we aren't even half way yet." It's cruel, but the forest is crueler. We need to ration our supplies if we want to make it. "Can you wait another hour or two?" I keep walking, and he soon is forced to catch up. "Fair enough..." He's tired, I know. So am I, but sleeping will slow is down too much. It has to wait.
And we march on. | It was dawn on a Sunday, misty clouds move sleepily away from the village they covered. The sun weakly shines down through remaining fog and finds the boy's face through a greasy window.
Dwayne Ronaldo Randal Earnheart was a 14 year old employed at a hole-in-the-wall pizza joint that would have been bankrupt but for two reasons: The pizza place was a front, run by the village mob elder's two nephews, and The Mariana Sauce.
Ever since the trade embargo with the Moose-riding Lilac Gypsies from the North sector few had been brave enough to venture through the trench to the lands of Mariana, famous for the crawling moss that lives at the bottom of the forest, where even the brightest light does not penetrate.
Many have been lost in the quest for this moss, this 'herb'. Many others have succumb to madness in the dark isolation of the Mariana Trench. It is said that if you are traveling in the Trench and your light extinguishes to leave it, for if you are to re-illuminate yourself you will find you are no longer alone. Nobody would venture through the forest, save for greed.
The Mariana Moss has psychoactive properties and is extremely euphoria-inducing, the price for 500g was more than any of the humble land-tenders or animal-husbandriers could hope to make in even the best year.
Dwayne's Uncle (we'll call him Blowtorch Nick for the sake of decency) saw his opportunity to shine in the light of his Uncle's eyes, finally earning the respect of the rest of the family. Nick knew that sending his brother's son on this quest was absolute insanity, but the pizza place has bills to pay, and Blowtorch Nick had little Mariana left.
Dwayne scampered out the door, he had just been handed a bag and instructions by his uncle, and was told to tell nobody what he was doing, especially not his father Garbanzo -- a perpetually angry man who lusted for blood. | |
[WP] Instead of Oceans, they are all big forests, that gets taller and darker instead of deeper, with more dangerous animals living further out in the forest. A person decides to cross the Mariana Trench | Cool wind whipped around my body, blowing my hood off and exposing my head to the freezing air. My numb fingers passed my numbing ears, and reclaimed the hood, pulling it around me once more. It hardly offered respite from the cold. The most insulating fabrics on my body felt diaphanous in those conditions.
We were deep. Deeper than any man had ever been. The trees around us stretched inexorably upwards, endlessly high, creeping towards the sunlight and claiming it all for themselves. The path behind us was visible only when illuminated by the beams of our flashlights and the path before us did not yet exist. We wordlessly hacked our way through the thick underbrush, winding a serpentine route through the increasingly arduous terrain. The off-road vehicle carrying our supplies and sleeping quarters lurched slowly behind me.
There were four of us, myself and three others. Four of the most seasoned explorers of forest regions in the world- Cook, Magellan, Vespucci, and Columbus, you might have called us, had you looked towards the famous tales of seafaring explorers for inspiration. Our story, however, was not one of fiction. The seventy percent of the earth covered by these dense woodlands remained largely unexplored, and our intent was to conquer the largest of the unexplored, the Marianas Trench. Over fifteen hundred miles deep, the trench was the lowest point on earth, and contained creatures so strange and gruesome, some say it must have stretched deep enough to crack into hell itself and free the demons from their fiery prison.
Hulbert was our leader, a tall man with a large mustache, offset by his mostly bald head. He and I were typically in front, snaking our way through the undergrowth like a scouting party behind enemy lines. Iaquinta, Hulbert’s antithesis, a short, tanned man with a thick shock of black hair, could often be found behind the wheel, and Ulrich, lanky young man with blond hair, spent most of his time substituting in for Hulbert or I, when one of us acquiesced a break.
We made slow progress initially, but after about one day, our party hit its stride, and we began moving at a steady rate. We had anticipated smooth sailing, however plans rarely go as expected, and ours was no exception.
| It was dawn on a Sunday, misty clouds move sleepily away from the village they covered. The sun weakly shines down through remaining fog and finds the boy's face through a greasy window.
Dwayne Ronaldo Randal Earnheart was a 14 year old employed at a hole-in-the-wall pizza joint that would have been bankrupt but for two reasons: The pizza place was a front, run by the village mob elder's two nephews, and The Mariana Sauce.
Ever since the trade embargo with the Moose-riding Lilac Gypsies from the North sector few had been brave enough to venture through the trench to the lands of Mariana, famous for the crawling moss that lives at the bottom of the forest, where even the brightest light does not penetrate.
Many have been lost in the quest for this moss, this 'herb'. Many others have succumb to madness in the dark isolation of the Mariana Trench. It is said that if you are traveling in the Trench and your light extinguishes to leave it, for if you are to re-illuminate yourself you will find you are no longer alone. Nobody would venture through the forest, save for greed.
The Mariana Moss has psychoactive properties and is extremely euphoria-inducing, the price for 500g was more than any of the humble land-tenders or animal-husbandriers could hope to make in even the best year.
Dwayne's Uncle (we'll call him Blowtorch Nick for the sake of decency) saw his opportunity to shine in the light of his Uncle's eyes, finally earning the respect of the rest of the family. Nick knew that sending his brother's son on this quest was absolute insanity, but the pizza place has bills to pay, and Blowtorch Nick had little Mariana left.
Dwayne scampered out the door, he had just been handed a bag and instructions by his uncle, and was told to tell nobody what he was doing, especially not his father Garbanzo -- a perpetually angry man who lusted for blood. | |
[WP] Instead of Oceans, they are all big forests, that gets taller and darker instead of deeper, with more dangerous animals living further out in the forest. A person decides to cross the Mariana Trench | They say that nature reclaims everything. That, given time, she will always heal, grow, survive hardship, and come out stronger for having endured it. Continents may shift, disasters ravage the land, volcanoes have filled the sky with ash and coated the ground in rock. And still nature emerges. Tenacious. Enduring. Overcoming. And now, she is recovering from the greatest infection she has ever experienced.
Humanity.
With their glass and concrete spires, ribbons of asphalt creating an artificial webbing across once-verdant landscapes, blue waters turning black from pollution and waste. Humanity had taken over. And nature had fought back, furious at the exploitation of her bounty. She retaliated, and humanity had lost. Humanity was dying, and Mother Nature was recycling civilizations' carcass. This event is known as the Reclamation.
They say that, long ago, the Great Forests were once massive bodies of water. Some say that nature covered them over with the trees, to prevent the toxins of man from harming them. The Great Pacific Forest was supposedly where the first of the trees grew from. Near a land once known as 'Mariana.' That is where the most gargantuan of the wooden sentinels stand.
Men have seen their world of steel and glass slowly returning to the earth, and sought a way to regain the control over the world that they once had. If they could find a way to halt, or at least slow down, the advance of nature and the Reclamation, then they would have something to strive for. They would have hope, even a shard of it, that they too wouldn't be forgotten beneath the foliage.
Many valiant groups have searched, braving the Great Forests in an attempt to find something, anything, that could help. To find that sliver of hope, that tiny spark that they could clutch and feel that they still had a chance.
One such spark was found near the old Mariana.
The remaining world leaders have sent many groups of explorers into the towering trees, but for every ten men that went out, only two would come back. And they would return with bizarre reports of creatures. Things that hunt beneath the arboreal pillars, and have only grown beneath that primeval canopy. Beasts that appeared... far more intelligent than any animal had a right to be. Could they have found the source, the font of nature's rampant growth? The key to stopping it, deep within it's own core? We may never find out. For even these reports were from many years ago.
Today, few have the resources, or even the strength of will, to venture into the vast groves that have claimed so many before them. Many were small bands of people with nothing to lose, the grim determination of those who have learned not to hope, not to expect anything to come from their endeavors.
This is where our story begins, with one who has nothing, but is searching for that spark of hope that humanity so desperately needs... | It was dawn on a Sunday, misty clouds move sleepily away from the village they covered. The sun weakly shines down through remaining fog and finds the boy's face through a greasy window.
Dwayne Ronaldo Randal Earnheart was a 14 year old employed at a hole-in-the-wall pizza joint that would have been bankrupt but for two reasons: The pizza place was a front, run by the village mob elder's two nephews, and The Mariana Sauce.
Ever since the trade embargo with the Moose-riding Lilac Gypsies from the North sector few had been brave enough to venture through the trench to the lands of Mariana, famous for the crawling moss that lives at the bottom of the forest, where even the brightest light does not penetrate.
Many have been lost in the quest for this moss, this 'herb'. Many others have succumb to madness in the dark isolation of the Mariana Trench. It is said that if you are traveling in the Trench and your light extinguishes to leave it, for if you are to re-illuminate yourself you will find you are no longer alone. Nobody would venture through the forest, save for greed.
The Mariana Moss has psychoactive properties and is extremely euphoria-inducing, the price for 500g was more than any of the humble land-tenders or animal-husbandriers could hope to make in even the best year.
Dwayne's Uncle (we'll call him Blowtorch Nick for the sake of decency) saw his opportunity to shine in the light of his Uncle's eyes, finally earning the respect of the rest of the family. Nick knew that sending his brother's son on this quest was absolute insanity, but the pizza place has bills to pay, and Blowtorch Nick had little Mariana left.
Dwayne scampered out the door, he had just been handed a bag and instructions by his uncle, and was told to tell nobody what he was doing, especially not his father Garbanzo -- a perpetually angry man who lusted for blood. | |
[WP] Instead of Oceans, they are all big forests, that gets taller and darker instead of deeper, with more dangerous animals living further out in the forest. A person decides to cross the Mariana Trench | The conquistador stopped in his tracks. Before him, the vast endless forest lay before him.
He paused for a breath, as if he was taking a plunge. This was it. There was no turning back now. From here on, the only way was down.
The conquistador, walked along the tight trodden path down a steep decline. Behind him was a small 20-man company of lightly armoured soldiers, carefully following his every step.
Around them, the forest was thick and impenetrable – the path being the welcome exception. All around the men were sounds of life – birds singing, rustle of leaves blowing in the wind. The searing sun illuminated their path between the sparse trees.
To the uninitiated, the forest seemed like any normal one. Yet the ominous nature of it was not lost on any of the travelers.
The conquistador, Ferdinand Pizarro, knew what the maps had labeled this forest as: The Great Forest. This was the great uncharted territory. Nothing was shown here on the maps but it‘s outline.
No one had ever traveled more than a few days down. No one – until, hopefully, now. The secrets of the forest, and hopefully vast riches, would finally come to bear.
But it wasn‘t it‘s secrets that worried him.
He knew what local village called it: The Void. It was an unholy place. For centuries it was strictly forbidden to travel even to the border of the forest at nightfall. Those who did, often told stories of unusual encounters with terrible creatures with many legs or several eyes.
Those who dared to even venture into the forest never ventured particularly deep – and of those who did, if they came back at all, seemingly lost their mind.
Every villager knew countless stories of the sights those poor people claim to have witnessed: strange beasts flying in the air, and a darkness that made the night sky seem like a welcome sun, or terrible growling sounds emanating from deep within.
Ferdinand took off his helmet and put it into the carriage; the sweat was piling up. He himself was no stranger to travel. After all, it was him who was personally selected by the Queen to lead this mission. The Queen had heard of other heads of state starting to explore their nearby forests, each as unexplored as the last. Some went disastrously, with the mission never to be seen again. But some, particularly the short ones, were successful beyond their wildest dreams, even finding new lands on the other side.
It was easy to select Ferdinand – a world traveler, a veteran of war, and a renowned figure in the whole of Spain.
His skills were needed to the utmost now, however. God may have helped him fight against his human enemies, but what of the foe who is unknown, unpredictable, even incomprehensible? How will the almighty protect him against such a monster? He prayed that he may escape this trial alive, yet quitting was not an option.
The hours passed. The men, loyal to him, showed no signs of weariness.
However, the ground had quickly became harsher. The green forest growth was now few and far between. Ferdinand could now see between the trees, and at certain angles eve somewhat far ahead.
However, darkness was creeping in.
The tree stems had grown larger, supporting the mostly naked stems, who reached hundreds of metres into the air, ending in a small, green, glittery collection of leaves high above. Some sunbeams managed to break in down below, further accentuating the dim space the mission was now in.
Suddenly, Ferdinand stopped dead in his tracks and stared ahead of him.
„Men, stop!“. The sound of the horse‘s clattering and the men‘s sporadic chatter died down.
„Silence!“. The forest had now died down to the point that there was absolute silence, outside of faint bird songs in the skies above them.
„What is the matter, sir?“ A man dressed similarly to Ferdinand, but with a lower ranking insignia, walked up to him.
„I could swear I heard a voice in the distance.“
„That‘s impossible, sir. No one is here but us.“ Christopher, Ferdinand‘s right hand, skimmed the area in front of him.
Suddenly, he heard it too. A faint call in the distance before them: „Help! Please!“
Ferdinand sprints ahead. Christopher follows him, telling the men: „Onwards, quickly!“
However, as Christopher saw Ferdinand running far ahead of him, he couldn‘t help but to suspect something strange about the voice. He saw the pitch-black darkness in the distance and felt an unease he thought long forgotten.
-----
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| It was dawn on a Sunday, misty clouds move sleepily away from the village they covered. The sun weakly shines down through remaining fog and finds the boy's face through a greasy window.
Dwayne Ronaldo Randal Earnheart was a 14 year old employed at a hole-in-the-wall pizza joint that would have been bankrupt but for two reasons: The pizza place was a front, run by the village mob elder's two nephews, and The Mariana Sauce.
Ever since the trade embargo with the Moose-riding Lilac Gypsies from the North sector few had been brave enough to venture through the trench to the lands of Mariana, famous for the crawling moss that lives at the bottom of the forest, where even the brightest light does not penetrate.
Many have been lost in the quest for this moss, this 'herb'. Many others have succumb to madness in the dark isolation of the Mariana Trench. It is said that if you are traveling in the Trench and your light extinguishes to leave it, for if you are to re-illuminate yourself you will find you are no longer alone. Nobody would venture through the forest, save for greed.
The Mariana Moss has psychoactive properties and is extremely euphoria-inducing, the price for 500g was more than any of the humble land-tenders or animal-husbandriers could hope to make in even the best year.
Dwayne's Uncle (we'll call him Blowtorch Nick for the sake of decency) saw his opportunity to shine in the light of his Uncle's eyes, finally earning the respect of the rest of the family. Nick knew that sending his brother's son on this quest was absolute insanity, but the pizza place has bills to pay, and Blowtorch Nick had little Mariana left.
Dwayne scampered out the door, he had just been handed a bag and instructions by his uncle, and was told to tell nobody what he was doing, especially not his father Garbanzo -- a perpetually angry man who lusted for blood. | |
[WP] Instead of Oceans, they are all big forests, that gets taller and darker instead of deeper, with more dangerous animals living further out in the forest. A person decides to cross the Mariana Trench | *Entry 4, March 13, 1984* "A Breach!"
Vanessa, you were correct! The *Gigansuchus* DO breach the canopy. Those holes described by Remington's expedition of 1937 are the breaching-points these leviathans use to escape the lower levels of the Pacific Growth. An explanation:
I set my team to surveilling a triad of these holes we found in close proximity - each less than 4km apart - by setting our ship to hover in the center of the triangle they formed, a safe 4000m above the canopy. The handlers passed out the breathing apparatus well in advance, you may be assured, as we were in the upper limits of the Mist. We watched these apertures for three days, and on the morning of the third, we witnessed a *Gigansuchus* breaching the northwest hole (coordinates below).
Vanessa, you cannot imagine it. The Gigans are simply monumental in size. This was a juvenile female, we estimate. Her hide was a dusky yellow-black in coloration and her burrowing-flexors were fully formed along the spine and belly. She was well-built, with all six limbs used to thrust her body - we guessed her size at 200m. We know the post-breeding females can nearly double that, but this was still a grand sight. The Gigan used her limbs to launch herself into the air, and her snout just cleared the lowest layer of the Mist, 150m straight up! The female held this pose, undoubtedly using her tail (which was never in sight) along with her lowest limbs to grip several branches and keep her bulk upright. They remind me strongly of Central American alligators in build, though their vertical jaws and lack of eyes are clear specializations to their environment. She inhaled and exhaled several times, and then simply fell back into the canopy. The noise of her impact was clearly audible even at our height!
Send Brian and Palmer my salutations. Be at ease Vanessa, for our solar cells remain stable and the frame of our ship is standing up to the winds. We will complete the crossing in two months, well on schedule. You will receive another letter in two weeks, keep the bird's cage clean and stocked.
All my love,
Rebecca. | It was dawn on a Sunday, misty clouds move sleepily away from the village they covered. The sun weakly shines down through remaining fog and finds the boy's face through a greasy window.
Dwayne Ronaldo Randal Earnheart was a 14 year old employed at a hole-in-the-wall pizza joint that would have been bankrupt but for two reasons: The pizza place was a front, run by the village mob elder's two nephews, and The Mariana Sauce.
Ever since the trade embargo with the Moose-riding Lilac Gypsies from the North sector few had been brave enough to venture through the trench to the lands of Mariana, famous for the crawling moss that lives at the bottom of the forest, where even the brightest light does not penetrate.
Many have been lost in the quest for this moss, this 'herb'. Many others have succumb to madness in the dark isolation of the Mariana Trench. It is said that if you are traveling in the Trench and your light extinguishes to leave it, for if you are to re-illuminate yourself you will find you are no longer alone. Nobody would venture through the forest, save for greed.
The Mariana Moss has psychoactive properties and is extremely euphoria-inducing, the price for 500g was more than any of the humble land-tenders or animal-husbandriers could hope to make in even the best year.
Dwayne's Uncle (we'll call him Blowtorch Nick for the sake of decency) saw his opportunity to shine in the light of his Uncle's eyes, finally earning the respect of the rest of the family. Nick knew that sending his brother's son on this quest was absolute insanity, but the pizza place has bills to pay, and Blowtorch Nick had little Mariana left.
Dwayne scampered out the door, he had just been handed a bag and instructions by his uncle, and was told to tell nobody what he was doing, especially not his father Garbanzo -- a perpetually angry man who lusted for blood. | |
[WP] Instead of Oceans, they are all big forests, that gets taller and darker instead of deeper, with more dangerous animals living further out in the forest. A person decides to cross the Mariana Trench | It was a subtle shift. I didn’t see it so much as feel it. The forest didn’t get darker, merely got heavier, the silence, deeper. Night fell. There was no wind. How could there be? The trees were monolithic. Each trunk was twice as thick again as I could run in five minutes, their branches spanning the sky, each leaf blotting out more of the sun, mingling with its neighbour, an unmoving canopy that roofed the world far above my head.
A noise broke the silence, the sound of a snapping twig. I halted, thrusting my torch higher in the air, to the left of my eyes. The flames burned brightly, but did not reveal the source. If I had to fight, I would, though running was the better option. Many things lived in this forest. Things that could rip me to shreds without a modest effort. I would not fall because a sword had hampered my escape. I dropped into a crouch and drew a long knife from my belt, lowering the hood of my black forest cloak.
Another sound, like the barest whisper of dry leaves across bare stone. Quickly, I smothered the torch. Blackness dropped and I heard the individual footsteps of the approaching creature. In my stoop, I crept to a hollow in one of the great roots of the nearest mountain-tree. My hand brushed the old wood, the section had been undisturbed and grown over with moss. The dampness soothed my nerves and I went prone, laying in the mud. A trickle of mud slid into my boots; mud soaked my chest and legs. I pulled my hood up again, to hide any shine from my sweat laden skin, any sound my held breath may have released. My eyes slowly adjusted in the gloom, my heart beating like mad in my chest. Shapes began to take form in the darkness.
I saw it. The beast was massive. It looked like a wolf, if a wolf had stolen its skin from the bark of a tree. Moss hung from its maw, its eyes shone a pale, acid green, and shone through the night. Teeth and fangs of stone gnashed and its bark skin stood at the hackles. It smelled me. Or the fire I had recently put out. It stepped toward me. I fought my screaming instincts. I wouldn’t run. It could have me in a second. I focused on staying still. On not breathing. On calming my wildly beating heart so that its sound would not betray me.
A great sound filled that terrible moment. Like the groaning of a falling tree. It started low and raised in pitch to a wailing high, somewhere far in the distance. The great wolf cocked its head and its ears perked forward and swivelled to locate the direction of that call. I nearly couldn’t contain myself. In that second, it looked more like a quizzical puppy, than a beast intent on devouring me. I swallowed my insane laughter and kept silent. Odd what the prospect of death will do to one’s sense of humour. The wolf stepped back, tilted its head and replied to the call in kind. The eerie, forest howl of that wolf would haunt me. The beast turned to me once more before departing, then bounded into the darkness, leaving me to silence again.
After many long minutes I rose from the nook, sheathing my blade and wiping the thick green moss from my hands and cloak. I backtracked the way I had come from, only now seeing the signs of the wolves’ territory. Paw prints in the dirt, old bones of other, smaller creatures that on first glance had looked to be thin, pale branches. Clear edge markings now made their way into my limited sight, deep claw marks in the massive trees. I was now outside the wolves’ domain. A sharp snarl filled the air and I spun about, another wolf had leaped to the top of one of the roots. It jumped again and landed in front of me, hardly stirring the ground it landed on and making not a sound. It looked me in the eye. I lowered my hands. Appearing threatening would only provoke it. The beast barked and laid down on the path I had just walked from, at the very edge of its territory. A low growl filled the air and I backed away, step by step. Its shape faded into the darkness, but its quick eyes followed me until I backed into the root of another tree.
I turned and ran along the root until I reached the point where it penetrated the earth. I followed it back along the other side, hoping it would lead to a hollow. To somewhere I could sleep, safe from the horrors of the night. When I reached the base of the tree, I was in luck. I crawled into the space, too small for most animals this deep in the forest to fit. Inside there was a pool in the center, fed by a trickle from the ceiling, that in turn drained into a crack on the other side, likely going on to feed a root of the behemoth tree. | Rumbling in the deep. The sound of light hidden beneath the crowns of barked trees thousands of years old. Their branches swaying with pride, watching over the roots and the dirt that hold them. The forest grew thicker as our journey took us deeper into the vastness of the green void. We’d already been travelling for two months, but only now did we reach the depth we have so desired. Only now does our true test begins, to search for what has always been lost.
The darkness is the worst part. Our lights do not reach far in this maze of wood and leaf. And the rumbling that warns us of our destination’s horror, it instills in us as much hope as madness. We have already left much of our party behind, now it is only the three of us left. Our provisions should take us there and back. It’s not much longer now. I can feel the air thickening all around me. The invasive scent of ten thousand years. So long have these titans stood like the pillars of our planet, unrelenting in their will to dominate what little space they have. None have ever broken through, not until now. We’ll be the first, the ones to unravel the last great mystery of our planet!
I feel… shameful. The memories of light that once lit my mind on fire are slowly vanishing into the deep along with my own sanity. My companions are not unaffected either. She speaks of ungodly horrors that awaits us, but I do not believe her. He is unusually quiet. The earth is round and this is just a forest. There are only trees here, trees and dirt and darkness. As our peers are up there, beyond the depths of our hell exploring space and time, we travel ever on with no guiding light nor hope of enlightenment. Why did I ever go here I cannot say, but now it is too late to turn back. We must press on now, for our planet, our people, and our own survival I fear.
I hear drums now. Yes, drums of war in the distance. It’s so clear now, so loud. They’re calling us! My companions cannot see it, they are blind to the madness that has befallen them! I must make my escape, I do not trust them any longer. So quiet and so loud, it melts away my mind. Soon it will be over. Soon it will all be over. I do not trust her, no more. She looks too relaxed, too comfortable… Surely she means to lead us to our death! I will not allow it! Soon, soon I will act…
Smoke rises from within the trees now. I hear the crackling of fire, and the pounding of thunder from the ground. Every step is a step towards doom, yet my feet fear it not.
They get closer now. Go, my Lord, while there is time. Soon the dark will falter and the light shine its rays of death upon thine crown. No king rules forever, but you may yet live. They will breach our borders soon… They come.
(I got weird with it... Randomly changing narrator is fun, but probably unreadable.) | |
[WP] Instead of Oceans, they are all big forests, that gets taller and darker instead of deeper, with more dangerous animals living further out in the forest. A person decides to cross the Mariana Trench | My wits had near left me, I was so frightened.
In our arrogance, we believed ourselves the strongest of all species. Yet, every time someone braved the oceans, they came back with gruesome stories of horrible monsters and terrifying darkness. As far as I can remember, I was always fascinated by the Pacific Ocean. The most frightening tales always came from those dark, green depths. I grew up and attended college, with the intent to study ocean life and its environment.
The farther exploration parties delved into them, the stranger the stories became. The creatures, however, were what I always was the most fascinated with. Beasts bigger than my own apartment and tiny tree-dwellers with glowing bodies. School was not difficult for me as I was studying what I loved.
One of my professors, a regular explorer during the summer, took me under his wing. After learning about my passion, he promised to get me a good field job after I graduated.
That job is why I am here now. Mariana’s Trench, the largest ocean forest known to man. I hunch underneath the gnarled roots of a massive tree, two hands over my mouth. Faint wheezes emanated from between my fingers, but thankfully much quieter than it would have been otherwise. The weight of the .32 pistol on my hip did nothing to assuage my fears. It was empty anyway. We were two weeks’ worth of marching into the Trench before it started hunting us. We ran for at least four days before I was the last left. I had been running for a week and a half, slowly spiraling into insanity. Distant rumblings caused by some enormous beast and unearthly screeches were my two constant companions. I was used to those noises by now.
The slithering noise, so quiet and deadly, startled me from my pointless thoughts.
I was scared witless now.
There was no coherent thought, no recollection of what followed. Only the need to run. I did run as fast as I could, deeper and deeper into hell. I gasped for breath, stopping only once to catch it. It didn’t matter. Consistently, the thing would find me after five minutes or so.
I ran some more.
Morning found me curled on the broad limb of a tree. I don’t know how I got there but the broken nails and scrapped limbs were telling. I had been very desperate to get away. Whatever was happening to me, I was losing my mind. The trees themselves were a wonder. Rather, the tree was a wonder. There was no singular tree, they were all connected. Leafy foliage stretching from trunk to trunk, branches tangled together. The flora was a fantastic blend of bright colors and fantastic shapes. Most had some form of dangerous defense mechanism.
Of the fauna…it was best to stay away from ninety percent of them. Most were poisonous or venomous and all were deadly. The sting ray was one of the strangest and most dangerous. It used its belly muscle to crawl up trees, blending in with the bark. It would then release itself when prey came near, gliding through the air before stabbing its victim with its barbed stinger.
My breath hitched as I knew there were things much, much more dangerous than the sting ray. I opened my flat pack and scrabbled through it, searching for the leather-bound book. Inside, it contained knowledge of all things that had been discovered in Mariana’s Trench.
I flipped through it feverishly, knowing that I had maybe half a day before it discovered me again. That’s how it happened, day in and day out. I would hid until it found me and then we’d be off again. I’d find some place to hide for the night until either it found me or some other deadly danger forced me to run.
I spent all my spare time searching through the large book for some hint of what it was that was hunting me. It was no easy task as the book was nearly as large as a dictionary.
I skimmed through about thirty pages of text before I was hungry. I had taken to hunting the crabs that lift on the forest floor. My machete and hatchet, originally meant for clearing paths, served me well enough in that area.
The book had a list of non-poisonous plants for vegetables. Forest weeds were bland but they didn't kill me so I ate them as well. I wrapped my fingers with strips of cloth torn from what used to be one of my shirts.
I sat over my kill, wrapping each piece of meat with weeds before swallowing the food. It was revolting after eating only that for so long but it kept me healthy.
I woke up, a sense of impending danger making the hairs of my neck stand on end. I cursed myself silently for a fool. I had actually fallen asleep on the floor of the forest, a very stupid thing to do.
I was so tired but I forced myself to stand, preparing mentally. I knew what had woken me up. It was what usually woke me up.
There.
*Ksssthhhhhssssss*. Pause. *Kchhhhhkkshhhhhh.* A longer pause this time. *Shhhhthkshhhhhh ch ch chhhhh.* *Shhhk shhk shhhhhhtthhhhhshk shkkk.*
The last variation of slithering and almost unnoticeable thunks let me know it had caught my scent.
And so I ran.
The sound was closer today. I quietly gasped, crouching in a good size copse. It was too close and yet I hadn't noticed. My senses were dulled from lack of sleep.
The shape reared up, a good fifteen feet high. The dim light of the forest made its skin gleam, though it was hard to tell what its skin actually was composed of.
It had a long, serpentine neck from what I could see. I would have thought it was a massive snake but the soft *shthunk* it made when it moved convinced me otherwise. It was obviously a very heavy beast.
*Hssssshhhh.* I heard it take in a breath of air. A dim light emanated from it now and for a brief second I thought it was a bioluminescent animal.
I was wrong.
*Cont.* | Rumbling in the deep. The sound of light hidden beneath the crowns of barked trees thousands of years old. Their branches swaying with pride, watching over the roots and the dirt that hold them. The forest grew thicker as our journey took us deeper into the vastness of the green void. We’d already been travelling for two months, but only now did we reach the depth we have so desired. Only now does our true test begins, to search for what has always been lost.
The darkness is the worst part. Our lights do not reach far in this maze of wood and leaf. And the rumbling that warns us of our destination’s horror, it instills in us as much hope as madness. We have already left much of our party behind, now it is only the three of us left. Our provisions should take us there and back. It’s not much longer now. I can feel the air thickening all around me. The invasive scent of ten thousand years. So long have these titans stood like the pillars of our planet, unrelenting in their will to dominate what little space they have. None have ever broken through, not until now. We’ll be the first, the ones to unravel the last great mystery of our planet!
I feel… shameful. The memories of light that once lit my mind on fire are slowly vanishing into the deep along with my own sanity. My companions are not unaffected either. She speaks of ungodly horrors that awaits us, but I do not believe her. He is unusually quiet. The earth is round and this is just a forest. There are only trees here, trees and dirt and darkness. As our peers are up there, beyond the depths of our hell exploring space and time, we travel ever on with no guiding light nor hope of enlightenment. Why did I ever go here I cannot say, but now it is too late to turn back. We must press on now, for our planet, our people, and our own survival I fear.
I hear drums now. Yes, drums of war in the distance. It’s so clear now, so loud. They’re calling us! My companions cannot see it, they are blind to the madness that has befallen them! I must make my escape, I do not trust them any longer. So quiet and so loud, it melts away my mind. Soon it will be over. Soon it will all be over. I do not trust her, no more. She looks too relaxed, too comfortable… Surely she means to lead us to our death! I will not allow it! Soon, soon I will act…
Smoke rises from within the trees now. I hear the crackling of fire, and the pounding of thunder from the ground. Every step is a step towards doom, yet my feet fear it not.
They get closer now. Go, my Lord, while there is time. Soon the dark will falter and the light shine its rays of death upon thine crown. No king rules forever, but you may yet live. They will breach our borders soon… They come.
(I got weird with it... Randomly changing narrator is fun, but probably unreadable.) | |
[WP] Instead of Oceans, they are all big forests, that gets taller and darker instead of deeper, with more dangerous animals living further out in the forest. A person decides to cross the Mariana Trench | September 22, 2035
"This is the first day that I have decided to start using this damned audio recorder. My doctor thought it would help keep my head on straight while I was heading on what he called," a mad mans journey" but I say, Screw him! The guy was a crackpot anyway."
September 25, 2035
"These trees are getting really creepy. I lost all natural light about noon today, and all of the normal animals like deer, rabbits, and birds are gone now. This whole trip is starting to seem like a bad idea, but screw it, I'm gonna see what the hell is up with this big trench. I remember some crazy old man shouting something about the trench, but it was probably just meaningless nonsense."
September 27, 2035
"According to the directions I got from the forest master near the treeline, the trench should be only a half a days journey. I'm glad I'm almost there, because my rations are almost at the halfway mark, and at this point, I won't have enough to make it back.
About half a day after my last recording, almost all normal animals have disappeared. Save for all kinds of creepy insects and plants, I haven't seen anything except for these freaky-ass trees. I finally remembered that the crazy old guy down by the treeline claimed to have been to the trench and seen a great monster that lived there. supposedly it tried to lure in travellers by sounding like a woman asking for help, but if you listened closely, you could tell that it was actually the monster. An interesting story, but the geezer was as nutty as it gets, so I don't give it much credit."
September 29, 2035
"Finally made it to the trench and might I say, it is creepy as hell. The trees just kind of drop off into a rocky cliff, and I can't see anything down there. I can barely see anything as it is, I have to use a headlamp to see at all."
*snap*
"What the hell was that?"
"Please... I need..."
"Hold on just as second! what do you need?"
" I need..."
"Is it food? Are you injured?"
" I need about tree fiddy."
" OH GOD NO!!!"
*bones snapping, screaming, and flesh tearing*
*The great reptilian beast lifts it's head from the new corpse*
" Nessie, you've outdone yourself this time." | Rumbling in the deep. The sound of light hidden beneath the crowns of barked trees thousands of years old. Their branches swaying with pride, watching over the roots and the dirt that hold them. The forest grew thicker as our journey took us deeper into the vastness of the green void. We’d already been travelling for two months, but only now did we reach the depth we have so desired. Only now does our true test begins, to search for what has always been lost.
The darkness is the worst part. Our lights do not reach far in this maze of wood and leaf. And the rumbling that warns us of our destination’s horror, it instills in us as much hope as madness. We have already left much of our party behind, now it is only the three of us left. Our provisions should take us there and back. It’s not much longer now. I can feel the air thickening all around me. The invasive scent of ten thousand years. So long have these titans stood like the pillars of our planet, unrelenting in their will to dominate what little space they have. None have ever broken through, not until now. We’ll be the first, the ones to unravel the last great mystery of our planet!
I feel… shameful. The memories of light that once lit my mind on fire are slowly vanishing into the deep along with my own sanity. My companions are not unaffected either. She speaks of ungodly horrors that awaits us, but I do not believe her. He is unusually quiet. The earth is round and this is just a forest. There are only trees here, trees and dirt and darkness. As our peers are up there, beyond the depths of our hell exploring space and time, we travel ever on with no guiding light nor hope of enlightenment. Why did I ever go here I cannot say, but now it is too late to turn back. We must press on now, for our planet, our people, and our own survival I fear.
I hear drums now. Yes, drums of war in the distance. It’s so clear now, so loud. They’re calling us! My companions cannot see it, they are blind to the madness that has befallen them! I must make my escape, I do not trust them any longer. So quiet and so loud, it melts away my mind. Soon it will be over. Soon it will all be over. I do not trust her, no more. She looks too relaxed, too comfortable… Surely she means to lead us to our death! I will not allow it! Soon, soon I will act…
Smoke rises from within the trees now. I hear the crackling of fire, and the pounding of thunder from the ground. Every step is a step towards doom, yet my feet fear it not.
They get closer now. Go, my Lord, while there is time. Soon the dark will falter and the light shine its rays of death upon thine crown. No king rules forever, but you may yet live. They will breach our borders soon… They come.
(I got weird with it... Randomly changing narrator is fun, but probably unreadable.) | |
[WP] Instead of Oceans, they are all big forests, that gets taller and darker instead of deeper, with more dangerous animals living further out in the forest. A person decides to cross the Mariana Trench | Crossing the vastly unexplored trench seemed like a good idea at the time. Imagine the headlines - world's most daring explorer.
But the darkness was absolute. The length of the trees were almost eternal. The circumference of the trees themselves would take hours to completely travel around. And that was just an estimation. Daylight is just a myth.`
The darkness was expected. I was prepared. But there was something else. The creatures. This is where prehistoric animals still exist. Creatures that haven't seen daylight since their ancestors descended through the forest to seek shelter from the apocalypse millennia's ago. Some of them have almost unprecedented sizes. You stumble across an animal so small, you can easily grab it and eat it. Then you come across animals so large, you thank whatever God you believe in that they can't see the thin prick of light illuminating the way from your hands.
I know I'm being hunted. These creatures, they can't even see. Eyes are useless at this point. The darkness is so strong, so infinite, so consuming, that nothing can see. Daylight is a myth. I estimate a creature roughly the size of a bear is coming for me. I've seen it. It's funny that a creature with no sight still has eyes so large it's almost comical. Silvery mottled skin with transparent patches. Scars cover it's body. It might be the size of a bear, but that's the only thing it has in common with a bear. The jagged teeth so sharp and so irregularly placed that they have cut through the creature's cheeks on an almost daily basis.
I am going to die.
The sweeping winds mask my scent, but only hasten my death. Even the trees cannot shelter me, for the wind seems to come from every direction. I was not prepared for this. The cold, cold so bad it simply hurts where it touches. Cold so horrific your bones are cold. To feel it in your bones...
This will be my last entry in my video journal. My final moments on this Earth will be spent alone, in the cold and the dark. Daylight is a myth. Even my flash light will only illuminate the way so far. The darkness simply consumes it.
I can see the creature. It has been standing there since I've started, close enough for the flash light to reflect off its eyes. Why has it been waiting? More important, how does it know where I am when it can't see?
| Rumbling in the deep. The sound of light hidden beneath the crowns of barked trees thousands of years old. Their branches swaying with pride, watching over the roots and the dirt that hold them. The forest grew thicker as our journey took us deeper into the vastness of the green void. We’d already been travelling for two months, but only now did we reach the depth we have so desired. Only now does our true test begins, to search for what has always been lost.
The darkness is the worst part. Our lights do not reach far in this maze of wood and leaf. And the rumbling that warns us of our destination’s horror, it instills in us as much hope as madness. We have already left much of our party behind, now it is only the three of us left. Our provisions should take us there and back. It’s not much longer now. I can feel the air thickening all around me. The invasive scent of ten thousand years. So long have these titans stood like the pillars of our planet, unrelenting in their will to dominate what little space they have. None have ever broken through, not until now. We’ll be the first, the ones to unravel the last great mystery of our planet!
I feel… shameful. The memories of light that once lit my mind on fire are slowly vanishing into the deep along with my own sanity. My companions are not unaffected either. She speaks of ungodly horrors that awaits us, but I do not believe her. He is unusually quiet. The earth is round and this is just a forest. There are only trees here, trees and dirt and darkness. As our peers are up there, beyond the depths of our hell exploring space and time, we travel ever on with no guiding light nor hope of enlightenment. Why did I ever go here I cannot say, but now it is too late to turn back. We must press on now, for our planet, our people, and our own survival I fear.
I hear drums now. Yes, drums of war in the distance. It’s so clear now, so loud. They’re calling us! My companions cannot see it, they are blind to the madness that has befallen them! I must make my escape, I do not trust them any longer. So quiet and so loud, it melts away my mind. Soon it will be over. Soon it will all be over. I do not trust her, no more. She looks too relaxed, too comfortable… Surely she means to lead us to our death! I will not allow it! Soon, soon I will act…
Smoke rises from within the trees now. I hear the crackling of fire, and the pounding of thunder from the ground. Every step is a step towards doom, yet my feet fear it not.
They get closer now. Go, my Lord, while there is time. Soon the dark will falter and the light shine its rays of death upon thine crown. No king rules forever, but you may yet live. They will breach our borders soon… They come.
(I got weird with it... Randomly changing narrator is fun, but probably unreadable.) | |
[WP] Instead of Oceans, they are all big forests, that gets taller and darker instead of deeper, with more dangerous animals living further out in the forest. A person decides to cross the Mariana Trench | Few men have ever tried to cross the Mariana jungle. Those who have are yet to return. While they tell me i'll die, I know I'm gonna be the first to do it.
The trees aren't too tall on the eastern coast of the Philippines, but you can't look far into the horizons before the looming wooden pillars block the sun. My cameraman is at my side, a nervous look on his face. The people at the beach are staring, I can't blame them considering what we're wearing. Our forest navigation gear and large backpacks don't match the local style much.
"Ready?" I ask Tom. He looks back at me, "As ready as I'll ever be, I suppose".
We make our way towards the trees. They're spread out for now, few shrubs stand in our path. The muddy earth already sticks to our boots, but I can't be hindered by dirt. I march on, Tom close behind.
"What are you expecting to find?" He asks, looking back at the beach. "Whatever it is that's killed those before us, I hope. We'll be the first to bring back it's bones!" I can tell my determined look scares him. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't shitting my pants, but this expedition will prove valuable to ecologists around the globe.
We carry rifles, but my main weapon will be my flood light. The animals out there won't be used to anything that bright, if I'm right it should scare them off, while lighting them up perfectly for some pictures. The air is already fairly thin, and it's getting darker every hour we march on. I talk little to Tom, I've never been one for small talk and I know he doesn't mind. The silence is calming to me. A few monkeys crawl around the trees, meters high by now, but we aren't nearly deep enough in yet to worry about wildlife. We came for that which no man has seen before, we haven't even made a new record for deepest expedition yet.
We march on, as the leaves grow denser and sunlight becomes rarer. We soon switch to our lights, and the roots and shrubs make the ground hard to walk on.
"It's been six hours." Tom says after countless silent steps. "It's already ten o clock." Not having sun messes with your sense of time more than I expected. It seemed like it had only been an hour ago since we left the coast. "Alright" I reply, walking on. "When do you want to take a break?". "About now actually" he says, stopping. "I'm already hungry."
"We only have food for three weeks, we aren't even half way yet." It's cruel, but the forest is crueler. We need to ration our supplies if we want to make it. "Can you wait another hour or two?" I keep walking, and he soon is forced to catch up. "Fair enough..." He's tired, I know. So am I, but sleeping will slow is down too much. It has to wait.
And we march on. | Rumbling in the deep. The sound of light hidden beneath the crowns of barked trees thousands of years old. Their branches swaying with pride, watching over the roots and the dirt that hold them. The forest grew thicker as our journey took us deeper into the vastness of the green void. We’d already been travelling for two months, but only now did we reach the depth we have so desired. Only now does our true test begins, to search for what has always been lost.
The darkness is the worst part. Our lights do not reach far in this maze of wood and leaf. And the rumbling that warns us of our destination’s horror, it instills in us as much hope as madness. We have already left much of our party behind, now it is only the three of us left. Our provisions should take us there and back. It’s not much longer now. I can feel the air thickening all around me. The invasive scent of ten thousand years. So long have these titans stood like the pillars of our planet, unrelenting in their will to dominate what little space they have. None have ever broken through, not until now. We’ll be the first, the ones to unravel the last great mystery of our planet!
I feel… shameful. The memories of light that once lit my mind on fire are slowly vanishing into the deep along with my own sanity. My companions are not unaffected either. She speaks of ungodly horrors that awaits us, but I do not believe her. He is unusually quiet. The earth is round and this is just a forest. There are only trees here, trees and dirt and darkness. As our peers are up there, beyond the depths of our hell exploring space and time, we travel ever on with no guiding light nor hope of enlightenment. Why did I ever go here I cannot say, but now it is too late to turn back. We must press on now, for our planet, our people, and our own survival I fear.
I hear drums now. Yes, drums of war in the distance. It’s so clear now, so loud. They’re calling us! My companions cannot see it, they are blind to the madness that has befallen them! I must make my escape, I do not trust them any longer. So quiet and so loud, it melts away my mind. Soon it will be over. Soon it will all be over. I do not trust her, no more. She looks too relaxed, too comfortable… Surely she means to lead us to our death! I will not allow it! Soon, soon I will act…
Smoke rises from within the trees now. I hear the crackling of fire, and the pounding of thunder from the ground. Every step is a step towards doom, yet my feet fear it not.
They get closer now. Go, my Lord, while there is time. Soon the dark will falter and the light shine its rays of death upon thine crown. No king rules forever, but you may yet live. They will breach our borders soon… They come.
(I got weird with it... Randomly changing narrator is fun, but probably unreadable.) | |
[WP] Instead of Oceans, they are all big forests, that gets taller and darker instead of deeper, with more dangerous animals living further out in the forest. A person decides to cross the Mariana Trench | Cool wind whipped around my body, blowing my hood off and exposing my head to the freezing air. My numb fingers passed my numbing ears, and reclaimed the hood, pulling it around me once more. It hardly offered respite from the cold. The most insulating fabrics on my body felt diaphanous in those conditions.
We were deep. Deeper than any man had ever been. The trees around us stretched inexorably upwards, endlessly high, creeping towards the sunlight and claiming it all for themselves. The path behind us was visible only when illuminated by the beams of our flashlights and the path before us did not yet exist. We wordlessly hacked our way through the thick underbrush, winding a serpentine route through the increasingly arduous terrain. The off-road vehicle carrying our supplies and sleeping quarters lurched slowly behind me.
There were four of us, myself and three others. Four of the most seasoned explorers of forest regions in the world- Cook, Magellan, Vespucci, and Columbus, you might have called us, had you looked towards the famous tales of seafaring explorers for inspiration. Our story, however, was not one of fiction. The seventy percent of the earth covered by these dense woodlands remained largely unexplored, and our intent was to conquer the largest of the unexplored, the Marianas Trench. Over fifteen hundred miles deep, the trench was the lowest point on earth, and contained creatures so strange and gruesome, some say it must have stretched deep enough to crack into hell itself and free the demons from their fiery prison.
Hulbert was our leader, a tall man with a large mustache, offset by his mostly bald head. He and I were typically in front, snaking our way through the undergrowth like a scouting party behind enemy lines. Iaquinta, Hulbert’s antithesis, a short, tanned man with a thick shock of black hair, could often be found behind the wheel, and Ulrich, lanky young man with blond hair, spent most of his time substituting in for Hulbert or I, when one of us acquiesced a break.
We made slow progress initially, but after about one day, our party hit its stride, and we began moving at a steady rate. We had anticipated smooth sailing, however plans rarely go as expected, and ours was no exception.
| Rumbling in the deep. The sound of light hidden beneath the crowns of barked trees thousands of years old. Their branches swaying with pride, watching over the roots and the dirt that hold them. The forest grew thicker as our journey took us deeper into the vastness of the green void. We’d already been travelling for two months, but only now did we reach the depth we have so desired. Only now does our true test begins, to search for what has always been lost.
The darkness is the worst part. Our lights do not reach far in this maze of wood and leaf. And the rumbling that warns us of our destination’s horror, it instills in us as much hope as madness. We have already left much of our party behind, now it is only the three of us left. Our provisions should take us there and back. It’s not much longer now. I can feel the air thickening all around me. The invasive scent of ten thousand years. So long have these titans stood like the pillars of our planet, unrelenting in their will to dominate what little space they have. None have ever broken through, not until now. We’ll be the first, the ones to unravel the last great mystery of our planet!
I feel… shameful. The memories of light that once lit my mind on fire are slowly vanishing into the deep along with my own sanity. My companions are not unaffected either. She speaks of ungodly horrors that awaits us, but I do not believe her. He is unusually quiet. The earth is round and this is just a forest. There are only trees here, trees and dirt and darkness. As our peers are up there, beyond the depths of our hell exploring space and time, we travel ever on with no guiding light nor hope of enlightenment. Why did I ever go here I cannot say, but now it is too late to turn back. We must press on now, for our planet, our people, and our own survival I fear.
I hear drums now. Yes, drums of war in the distance. It’s so clear now, so loud. They’re calling us! My companions cannot see it, they are blind to the madness that has befallen them! I must make my escape, I do not trust them any longer. So quiet and so loud, it melts away my mind. Soon it will be over. Soon it will all be over. I do not trust her, no more. She looks too relaxed, too comfortable… Surely she means to lead us to our death! I will not allow it! Soon, soon I will act…
Smoke rises from within the trees now. I hear the crackling of fire, and the pounding of thunder from the ground. Every step is a step towards doom, yet my feet fear it not.
They get closer now. Go, my Lord, while there is time. Soon the dark will falter and the light shine its rays of death upon thine crown. No king rules forever, but you may yet live. They will breach our borders soon… They come.
(I got weird with it... Randomly changing narrator is fun, but probably unreadable.) | |
[WP] Instead of Oceans, they are all big forests, that gets taller and darker instead of deeper, with more dangerous animals living further out in the forest. A person decides to cross the Mariana Trench | They say that nature reclaims everything. That, given time, she will always heal, grow, survive hardship, and come out stronger for having endured it. Continents may shift, disasters ravage the land, volcanoes have filled the sky with ash and coated the ground in rock. And still nature emerges. Tenacious. Enduring. Overcoming. And now, she is recovering from the greatest infection she has ever experienced.
Humanity.
With their glass and concrete spires, ribbons of asphalt creating an artificial webbing across once-verdant landscapes, blue waters turning black from pollution and waste. Humanity had taken over. And nature had fought back, furious at the exploitation of her bounty. She retaliated, and humanity had lost. Humanity was dying, and Mother Nature was recycling civilizations' carcass. This event is known as the Reclamation.
They say that, long ago, the Great Forests were once massive bodies of water. Some say that nature covered them over with the trees, to prevent the toxins of man from harming them. The Great Pacific Forest was supposedly where the first of the trees grew from. Near a land once known as 'Mariana.' That is where the most gargantuan of the wooden sentinels stand.
Men have seen their world of steel and glass slowly returning to the earth, and sought a way to regain the control over the world that they once had. If they could find a way to halt, or at least slow down, the advance of nature and the Reclamation, then they would have something to strive for. They would have hope, even a shard of it, that they too wouldn't be forgotten beneath the foliage.
Many valiant groups have searched, braving the Great Forests in an attempt to find something, anything, that could help. To find that sliver of hope, that tiny spark that they could clutch and feel that they still had a chance.
One such spark was found near the old Mariana.
The remaining world leaders have sent many groups of explorers into the towering trees, but for every ten men that went out, only two would come back. And they would return with bizarre reports of creatures. Things that hunt beneath the arboreal pillars, and have only grown beneath that primeval canopy. Beasts that appeared... far more intelligent than any animal had a right to be. Could they have found the source, the font of nature's rampant growth? The key to stopping it, deep within it's own core? We may never find out. For even these reports were from many years ago.
Today, few have the resources, or even the strength of will, to venture into the vast groves that have claimed so many before them. Many were small bands of people with nothing to lose, the grim determination of those who have learned not to hope, not to expect anything to come from their endeavors.
This is where our story begins, with one who has nothing, but is searching for that spark of hope that humanity so desperately needs... | Rumbling in the deep. The sound of light hidden beneath the crowns of barked trees thousands of years old. Their branches swaying with pride, watching over the roots and the dirt that hold them. The forest grew thicker as our journey took us deeper into the vastness of the green void. We’d already been travelling for two months, but only now did we reach the depth we have so desired. Only now does our true test begins, to search for what has always been lost.
The darkness is the worst part. Our lights do not reach far in this maze of wood and leaf. And the rumbling that warns us of our destination’s horror, it instills in us as much hope as madness. We have already left much of our party behind, now it is only the three of us left. Our provisions should take us there and back. It’s not much longer now. I can feel the air thickening all around me. The invasive scent of ten thousand years. So long have these titans stood like the pillars of our planet, unrelenting in their will to dominate what little space they have. None have ever broken through, not until now. We’ll be the first, the ones to unravel the last great mystery of our planet!
I feel… shameful. The memories of light that once lit my mind on fire are slowly vanishing into the deep along with my own sanity. My companions are not unaffected either. She speaks of ungodly horrors that awaits us, but I do not believe her. He is unusually quiet. The earth is round and this is just a forest. There are only trees here, trees and dirt and darkness. As our peers are up there, beyond the depths of our hell exploring space and time, we travel ever on with no guiding light nor hope of enlightenment. Why did I ever go here I cannot say, but now it is too late to turn back. We must press on now, for our planet, our people, and our own survival I fear.
I hear drums now. Yes, drums of war in the distance. It’s so clear now, so loud. They’re calling us! My companions cannot see it, they are blind to the madness that has befallen them! I must make my escape, I do not trust them any longer. So quiet and so loud, it melts away my mind. Soon it will be over. Soon it will all be over. I do not trust her, no more. She looks too relaxed, too comfortable… Surely she means to lead us to our death! I will not allow it! Soon, soon I will act…
Smoke rises from within the trees now. I hear the crackling of fire, and the pounding of thunder from the ground. Every step is a step towards doom, yet my feet fear it not.
They get closer now. Go, my Lord, while there is time. Soon the dark will falter and the light shine its rays of death upon thine crown. No king rules forever, but you may yet live. They will breach our borders soon… They come.
(I got weird with it... Randomly changing narrator is fun, but probably unreadable.) | |
[WP] Instead of Oceans, they are all big forests, that gets taller and darker instead of deeper, with more dangerous animals living further out in the forest. A person decides to cross the Mariana Trench | The conquistador stopped in his tracks. Before him, the vast endless forest lay before him.
He paused for a breath, as if he was taking a plunge. This was it. There was no turning back now. From here on, the only way was down.
The conquistador, walked along the tight trodden path down a steep decline. Behind him was a small 20-man company of lightly armoured soldiers, carefully following his every step.
Around them, the forest was thick and impenetrable – the path being the welcome exception. All around the men were sounds of life – birds singing, rustle of leaves blowing in the wind. The searing sun illuminated their path between the sparse trees.
To the uninitiated, the forest seemed like any normal one. Yet the ominous nature of it was not lost on any of the travelers.
The conquistador, Ferdinand Pizarro, knew what the maps had labeled this forest as: The Great Forest. This was the great uncharted territory. Nothing was shown here on the maps but it‘s outline.
No one had ever traveled more than a few days down. No one – until, hopefully, now. The secrets of the forest, and hopefully vast riches, would finally come to bear.
But it wasn‘t it‘s secrets that worried him.
He knew what local village called it: The Void. It was an unholy place. For centuries it was strictly forbidden to travel even to the border of the forest at nightfall. Those who did, often told stories of unusual encounters with terrible creatures with many legs or several eyes.
Those who dared to even venture into the forest never ventured particularly deep – and of those who did, if they came back at all, seemingly lost their mind.
Every villager knew countless stories of the sights those poor people claim to have witnessed: strange beasts flying in the air, and a darkness that made the night sky seem like a welcome sun, or terrible growling sounds emanating from deep within.
Ferdinand took off his helmet and put it into the carriage; the sweat was piling up. He himself was no stranger to travel. After all, it was him who was personally selected by the Queen to lead this mission. The Queen had heard of other heads of state starting to explore their nearby forests, each as unexplored as the last. Some went disastrously, with the mission never to be seen again. But some, particularly the short ones, were successful beyond their wildest dreams, even finding new lands on the other side.
It was easy to select Ferdinand – a world traveler, a veteran of war, and a renowned figure in the whole of Spain.
His skills were needed to the utmost now, however. God may have helped him fight against his human enemies, but what of the foe who is unknown, unpredictable, even incomprehensible? How will the almighty protect him against such a monster? He prayed that he may escape this trial alive, yet quitting was not an option.
The hours passed. The men, loyal to him, showed no signs of weariness.
However, the ground had quickly became harsher. The green forest growth was now few and far between. Ferdinand could now see between the trees, and at certain angles eve somewhat far ahead.
However, darkness was creeping in.
The tree stems had grown larger, supporting the mostly naked stems, who reached hundreds of metres into the air, ending in a small, green, glittery collection of leaves high above. Some sunbeams managed to break in down below, further accentuating the dim space the mission was now in.
Suddenly, Ferdinand stopped dead in his tracks and stared ahead of him.
„Men, stop!“. The sound of the horse‘s clattering and the men‘s sporadic chatter died down.
„Silence!“. The forest had now died down to the point that there was absolute silence, outside of faint bird songs in the skies above them.
„What is the matter, sir?“ A man dressed similarly to Ferdinand, but with a lower ranking insignia, walked up to him.
„I could swear I heard a voice in the distance.“
„That‘s impossible, sir. No one is here but us.“ Christopher, Ferdinand‘s right hand, skimmed the area in front of him.
Suddenly, he heard it too. A faint call in the distance before them: „Help! Please!“
Ferdinand sprints ahead. Christopher follows him, telling the men: „Onwards, quickly!“
However, as Christopher saw Ferdinand running far ahead of him, he couldn‘t help but to suspect something strange about the voice. He saw the pitch-black darkness in the distance and felt an unease he thought long forgotten.
-----
Thanks for reading! Please upvote this post to let me know if you want another part :)
| Rumbling in the deep. The sound of light hidden beneath the crowns of barked trees thousands of years old. Their branches swaying with pride, watching over the roots and the dirt that hold them. The forest grew thicker as our journey took us deeper into the vastness of the green void. We’d already been travelling for two months, but only now did we reach the depth we have so desired. Only now does our true test begins, to search for what has always been lost.
The darkness is the worst part. Our lights do not reach far in this maze of wood and leaf. And the rumbling that warns us of our destination’s horror, it instills in us as much hope as madness. We have already left much of our party behind, now it is only the three of us left. Our provisions should take us there and back. It’s not much longer now. I can feel the air thickening all around me. The invasive scent of ten thousand years. So long have these titans stood like the pillars of our planet, unrelenting in their will to dominate what little space they have. None have ever broken through, not until now. We’ll be the first, the ones to unravel the last great mystery of our planet!
I feel… shameful. The memories of light that once lit my mind on fire are slowly vanishing into the deep along with my own sanity. My companions are not unaffected either. She speaks of ungodly horrors that awaits us, but I do not believe her. He is unusually quiet. The earth is round and this is just a forest. There are only trees here, trees and dirt and darkness. As our peers are up there, beyond the depths of our hell exploring space and time, we travel ever on with no guiding light nor hope of enlightenment. Why did I ever go here I cannot say, but now it is too late to turn back. We must press on now, for our planet, our people, and our own survival I fear.
I hear drums now. Yes, drums of war in the distance. It’s so clear now, so loud. They’re calling us! My companions cannot see it, they are blind to the madness that has befallen them! I must make my escape, I do not trust them any longer. So quiet and so loud, it melts away my mind. Soon it will be over. Soon it will all be over. I do not trust her, no more. She looks too relaxed, too comfortable… Surely she means to lead us to our death! I will not allow it! Soon, soon I will act…
Smoke rises from within the trees now. I hear the crackling of fire, and the pounding of thunder from the ground. Every step is a step towards doom, yet my feet fear it not.
They get closer now. Go, my Lord, while there is time. Soon the dark will falter and the light shine its rays of death upon thine crown. No king rules forever, but you may yet live. They will breach our borders soon… They come.
(I got weird with it... Randomly changing narrator is fun, but probably unreadable.) |
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