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[WP] FTL travel is very expensive, so humanity creates a web of hyperlanes between systems, that speed up time inside them, making travel cheaper. You enter a malfunctioning hyperlane. When you leave it, you find a galaxy with no humans, full of alien races, that see your kind as ancient precursors.
|
The glow from the instrument panel permeated his eyelids. The soft, familiar orange light accompanied by the proximity alarms drew him back to conciousness.
“Engine core 55% depletion. Warning. Collision. Warning. Collision. Warning…”
With a start, Lucas Davian sat upright and ripped the goggles off his face. Panic building, he put both hands on the throttle controls and slammed the light transport into reverse. Julia, the ship, groaned in protest against its own forward inertia and began to slow. With just the slightest of a jolt, the nose of the craft tapped into the side of the derelict transit station, Julia's shields shrugging off the inconsequential love tap.
wait, what? derelict? I was here just last week.
Rubbing his eyes, Lucas stared out the cockpit window at the station. Visibility wasn't an issue, the bulbous cockpit screen automatically brightens dim images, has several zoom levels and wraps around both sides of the occupant to fill in peripheral vision.
Visibility wasn't the issue, comprehension was. The transit station, once a lively hub bridging the Timelight (TL) lanes between Alpha Proxima and the Veritas System, was a corroded, twisted shell. The windows long since shattered or missing entirely. The solar resistant blue grey paint was worn to bare metal, and the station itself now seemed to resemble a gargantuan steel octopus with its many docking bridges stuck out in random directions where they had been knocked about by various debris and collisions.
And there's no ships. Lucas realized he had never seen the busy hub without there being a frustratingly long docking line of various ships from all over the quadrants. Traders, smugglers, passenger liners, even some of the United Navy vessels would stop through if the John C Sherman highway was under maintenance. It made him uneasy.
“Engine Core 55%”
Oh right. Coolant and fuel.
The Timelight system was notoriously hard on engines, and Julia wasn't exactly a shining example of modern tech. Since the Timelight rings sped up the passage of time to make long journeys more palatable, the wear on space faring vessels was equally increased. Julia was at the end of a 3 week journey which, adjusted for TL, was just about a year.
So why was Christenson Hub…
“Oh shit….” The words escaped his chapped lips of their own accord. Lucas's mind was spinning as he slowly flew around the decrepit hub station. Realization was setting in, and the outlook was grim.
“Command not recognized.”
“Julia, what's today's date?”
“It is January 22nd, Earth year 5244. You have 214 missed events.”
Oh god it cant be.
“Julia,” his voice croaked, “what year is it?”
“It is Earth year 5244.”
“What the fuck do you mean, 5244? Julia, run system diagnostics.”
After a brief whir of computer fans, Julia responded.
“Systems check complete. Engine core 55%. Shields 100% Shield battery 75% all other systems nominal. For a detailed scan, say 'details’”.
Lucas had left for his trip on February 1st.
Earth year 2644.
“Julia, plot a course for Trepidity Commerce Station.”
“Station beacon not found. Would you like to plot a manual course?”
Earth year 5244 Earth year 5244 Earth year 5244 Earth year 5244 Earth year 5244 Earth year 5244
“Calm down.” Lucas's words had little effect on his racing thoughts, the heart beating out of his chest.
“Command not recognized. Your heart rate is elevated at 185 bpm. Is medical attention desired?”
“No. Julia, find any nearby stations with available docking rings.”
“Scanning.”
Still absent-mindedly flying around the hub station, Lucas's eyes were drawn to the small remnants of life around him. A Viper class sportscraft docked near the gift shop, both worn nearly beyond recognition. A Navy Vessel of unknown type split in half and corroding away near the fuel depot. Several large laser marks burned into its hull. Gaping holes in the stations wall, exposing wires and cables. It was not clear how much of the damage was caused by thousands of years of debris collisions, and how much was caused by explosions and laser fire.
The station must've been attacked.
With how much time had elapsed, Lucas supposed the station could've been attacked many times since he last saw it.
Earth year 5244
“Julia, hold position. I need a drink.”
“Confirmed. Enjoy your break, Lucas.”
Lucas left the cockpit and thanked the inventor of the stasis field protecting his ship's interior from the accelerated time dilation of the TL lanes. Uncorking a bottle of Drevick Whiskey, he thanked the stasis field’s inventor a second time for protecting his booze and poured a glass while he pondered his circumstances. Julia had enough provisions for maybe another couple of months or so without rationing too hard.
As he looked around the dining area connected to the cockpit by a short four step staircase, he noted the aluminum cabinets and shelves lining the bluesteel walls.
Maybe more like a month.
Setting his glass down on the oval shaped ironwood table, Lucas toyed with the idea of switching on his personal communicator. It would be pointless, of course, anyone with his contact information would be long dead, and the servers holding his messages would be as well.
“Fuck it.” He turned it on and stared at the 'no signal’ dialogue box.
Setting it down with a sigh, He decided to check the engine room, mostly just to stay occupied than anything else.
The door to the engine room unsealed with a hiss and Lucas peered into the dimly lit maintenance hall from the dining area.
Lucas walked down the dreary, rusty hall, grabbed his toolkit, and went to work on the engines.
“Signal check complete. There are four unidentified dock-ready stations within fuel distance.”
Lucas leaned back on his heels and set his toolkit beside him. Wiping the oil on his pants, and satisfied he had done as much as he could with the tools that he had, he stood.
“Julia, check the engines again.”
“Engines 59%”
That's just going to have to be enough.
“Julia, plot a course for the closest signal.”
Working on part 2
|
The days on this planet are longer: I’m pretty sure one day here is at least 4 days back on Earth - the sun here, smaller yet hotter, is literally a perpetual presence, and, if I had sunscreen and a hat and water, its cheerful brightness might’ve been a beacon of hope but it’s burning my skin and leaving me dehydrated so much I started seeing things: long dead daughters and a rather frightening mirage of my boss, Mr Vander, telling me I’m almost at my destination, I’m almost there, *keep going, Miany*.
I last spoke to him at least 15 hours ago: his only advice was that I find the local inhabitants of the planet and ask for their help, something he was very confident would work: he didn’t think they’d be hostile or frightened of an alien like me in anyway. Mr Vander is charming and confident, the “Cool Fox” we sometimes call him due to a certain cunning that lies just beneath his handsome looks, and when he says anything with that deep, steady voice of his you believe him, you even start believing in yourself.
In my 45 years of living, I’ve never thought of thirst as being physically painful - it’s always been more of a nag, a bother at worst. My lips are dryer than the sand I trudge through - the hyperplane, my masterful invention, crashed in place that’s weirdly like the Sahara: bone-dry and excruciating glare, a hell up on the surface.
It’s odd that the hyperplane malfunctioned - in fact, when I realized, with a cold twist of my stomach, that I was going to veer off course into wild space, I couldn’t believe it: my hyperplanes, an out-of-this-world progression of human accomplishment, couldn’t possibly have a fault.
They were built because the Earth was dying and humanity needed a new home - which we found in a habitable planet called Spugg - and we needed to get there damn quickly. FTL was still decades away and so the hyperplanes, while initially rejected by the masses, were employed.
I’m seeing something else now in this alien desert, a settlement, buildings and walking figures, unlikely since it seemed crazy that anyone could live in this firehole. But, as I stumble forwards, feet black and on fire, I realize that hallucinations have quite a different quality than real stuff, and that what’s before me is actually a small village - from here, in my dizzy, near-death state, I see grotesque humanoids ambling around, gnarled limbs sticking out of their torsos, a nightmare if I was in a more stable state of mind.
I don’t care if they might be hostile, all I need is water, or, at any rate, an equivalent to it. I shout and every single one of them, in disturbing, choreographed unity, turn their heads in my direction. As I wave my hands, already regretting my decision, my communicator beeps: judging by the mugshot-like picture of a strong young man on the screen, it’s one of the engineering interns back on Earth, which is odd because I don’t quite expect interns to be involved in my rescue mission.
“Hello - “ I begin but I gasp when I see the interns face on the video call: bloody and bashed, eyes slits and purple.
“Miany!” he shouts. Interns usually, in fright and awe, refer to me as Miss Ogamenda, so him calling me by my name means there’s something serious going on. Before I can ask what the fuck, he continues:
“Miany. I only have little time left! Listen to me!”
“What is it?” Instantly, like medicine, an unnerving energy washes over me: the desert is discarded and forgotten. “Is the meteor about to strike Earth?”
“No, listen!” He is barely intelligible since his mouth is so puffy. “Everything was a lie! I overhead them, Mr Vander, Mrs Plygien, everyone! I managed to get away but they’ve got soldiers on me. I’ve already broadcast the whole truth to the entire Eartg.”
I can see him, with his sturdy frame, fighting off advancing guards, and with a sinking feeling, I realize what he meant when he said “little time”.
“The Earth isn’t dying. Vander Inc. has been polluting and destroying the Earth on purpose so that they could get government funding to find and conquer other worlds! It’s all a thirst for power!”
“What?”
“Your hyperplane: it didn’t just malfunction, it was tampered with. They figured you were too close to the inner circle and couldn’t be trusted if the truth was leaked to you. They only wanted your brains and inventions, your hyperplane especially, and they always planned to get rid of you afterwards. You’ve always been outspoken and fought for what’s right - we interns always admired you about that. There was no way they could risk you finding out, Miany.”
My head is spinning: faintly, like they’re on some faraway planet, I can hear the aliens approaching, massive feet thudding on sand
“Oh, fuck, they’re coming.” Fear and death are in the intern’s eyes as he looks up from his communicator and back down to me. “They tried to kill you! Not just by making you crash on an alien desert planet but on an alien desert planet with aliens who’ve come into contact with humans before. Bad contact, hundreds of years ago in the early 21st century. They hate humans and will arrest or kill one on sight!”
As the thought of being wanted on two fronts sinks in, the intern’s eyes widen, and when he tries to open his mouth in a rigid, spastic way, there’s an explosion, and the screen of the communicator goes black.
|
|
[WP] FTL travel is very expensive, so humanity creates a web of hyperlanes between systems, that speed up time inside them, making travel cheaper. You enter a malfunctioning hyperlane. When you leave it, you find a galaxy with no humans, full of alien races, that see your kind as ancient precursors.
|
The relentless baying of the Rothounds echoed throughout the crumbling, moss-painted halls. Yeld ran, and ran, and ran, leaping over fallen stones and sliding down broken pillars. The others ran with her, following Ton’wi as he led them deeper and deeper into the damp, overgrown ruins. The stone walls were slick with dew even this deep in the structure, dripping in through the broken roof from the constant drizzle outside. None of them had the breath to speak, only to run from the sound of the beasts, and the their silent, deadly masters. Soft light from the cloudy skies above filtered in through cracks in the crumbling ruins, dancing in the little trickles of rainwater. Yeld’s breath came harsh and cold, and with the scent of moss and must, but she kept breathing. She could not stop. She had not fled only to give up now. She would fight to the end, she would not give him the satisfaction of surrender.
The group came to sliding stop, and Brot and Flot bumped into each other, tumbling into the ferns and undergrowth with a shower of dew drops. Ton’wi turned around, his big, green eyes soft with tears.
“I...I don’t where to go, princess...I don’t know where to go next.”
He held out his arms, spreading his brightly coloured poncho, the trinkets and jewelry of the Joko people clicking and rattling.
“There’s nothing here, Yeld...nothing, it’s a dead end.” His voice was strained and bubbled with frustration.
The rest of the group looked around at where they’d ended up. It was a relatively small room, for the ruins, though still massive by the standards of the Joko. Yeld turned toward the way they’d come, and steeled herself.
“They will not take us easily. We owe ourselves that much. Jona, Fletch, block that doorway up!” She commanded, pointing to the small hole in the fallen stones they’d run through.
“Protu, help them, find anything you can. If we go, we make it as difficult for them as possible.” She turned to Ton’wi, still breathing heavily, “I still believe, Ton, I still believe in the dream. The spirits will not abandon us.”
Ton’wi stared in silence for a moment, and then furrowed his brow. He nodded, and ran off to help block the entrance.
Yeld looked around at her little party of fugitives. Conya and the other girls huddled together, comforting each other as they regained their breath. Protu and the others had already blocked the entrance, and now stood stock-still, awaiting the arrival of the Rothounds, and Dragu. The baying of the hounds had stopped. It meant they were close. The Joko had been hunted long enough to know that the sign of nearby hunters is silence.
Yeld turned and wandered to the back of the room, and began to run her hands along the ancient stone of the wall. Cool water pooled between her fingers, clinging to the wall in a thin, almost imperceptible stream. Strange symbols, of the Elder Ones, could almost be made out under the centuries of grime and moss and algae that had grown up in the rain and damp. What had they wanted with this place, she wondered. What strange workings had the Elder Ones put themselves too, that they built such grand structures as these ruins?
A thud startled her out of her wonderings, and a grating, guttural voice came from the other side of the makeshift door.
“Princess" it growled, "...I can smell you and your friends in there…”
Conya and the other girls gasped and held each other tighter, and Ton’wi walked to the doorway, standing as tall as he could.
“We won’t let you in, Dragu. Our days as slaves are over. The Princess is going to get out of this. I’ll make sure of it.”
Cruel, chittering laughter came from the other side of the wall, and the scraping claws of the rothounds could be heard trying to dig out the stones.
“And why do you think that, little one? Are you going to stop me? Is that Ton’wi, there? The boy who would be a warrior?” The voice said.
“It is, Dragu, and you and your thugs will have to go through me before you can ge-”
With a massive boom, the stones that blocked the entrance way blasted into the room, crushing Ton’wi into a red smear on the ground. The girls screamed, and fled as far back as they could. Yeld leaped back, as well, and braced herself on the wall.
The hounds leaped in. Brot and Flot let out a yell, and charged the beasts, but they were snapped up instantly, and shaken in the maw of the horrible, horned creatures. Behind the rothounds, Dragu and his hunters strolled into the room. They wore the skulls and skins of beasts, and Joko, in a mishmash of armour.
Protu took out his spear and charged Dragu, as the hounds ran around the room snapping up the Joko who clawed frantically at the walls in a useless attempt to find some escape. Protu thrust, but Dragu moved out of the weapon’s way with ease, slipping aside, and drove his own cruel, hooked spear into the side of the young warrior. Protu’s scream was cut short as blood boiled up into his mouth, choking him.
Dragu cast the boy’s corpse off of his spear with disdain, licking the blood off of the blade with his forked tongue.
He strode directly for Yeld, pressed against the wall. The room filled with the screams of Joko, torn apart by Rothounds, or run-through by the hunter's spears and knives. The hunters joined in the cacophony with their high-thin, high pitched laughs.
“You thought you could become something more than weak, fearful creatures, princess? You should have listen to your mother you little worm, you’re nothing but dirt, and you'll never be anything more. You belong to me!” He rumbled.
He took something out of his bag and tossed it to Yeld as he strode forward, easily brushing off the attacks of any Joko who tried to stop him before he reached the princess.
The object landed in front of Yeld with a thud, and rolled over the broken stones to face her. It was a head. A Joko head. Her mother’s head. Yeld’s eyes filled with hot tears, and she glared at Dragu.
“You….you’re….I won’t let you take us easily, you horrible monster. You’ll have to do it the hard way.”
Dragu laughed, and caught a Joko as the poor thing was tossed to him from one of the hunters. He drove a knife into the girl’s skull, and dropped her on the floor. The other hunters went about massacring the remaining Joko, and some began to skin their victims while they still struggled. Yeld pressed her back up against the wall, praying to the spirits for some kind of mercy for her people. Dragu stopped his striding as he reached her, and stood over her, his long, dredded hair sporting teeth and fangs and horns from his prey.
“This is the end of your little rebellion, girl, and the end of your line. I made a mistake allowing you things to have your leaders….I won’t make that mistake again.”
Yeld stared up into the black, red-pupiled eyes of Dragu, helplessly leaning into the ancient, wet wall, her fingers clawing and grasping at the mysterious symbols and nodes of the Elder Ones that dotted the surface of the ruined structure.
A great whirring, humming sound thrummed up and down the wall. Dragu stepped back, readying his spear, and lights began to blink and dance across the back wall of the room.
“What is this nonsense, girl. What have you done?” He growled.
Yeld turned to look at the wall, staring up into what had become a symphony of hums and bright, twinkling lights. The wall itself began to transform, and a great hole opened up where Yeld had been standing. Pure, white like poured out into the room. Dragu and the other hunters shielded their eyes as mist flooded out into the room from the opening. Yeld stared directly into the light. The spirits had answered her call.
From the hole, a massive form stepped out, towering over Yeld at just over twice her height. It wore bright, strange clothes that clung neatly to its body. It blinked, and looked around the room. It stared at the hunters. It stared at the rothounds. It stared at the Joko, who scurried away from the now distracted hunters. It stared directly at princess Yeld.
James stared out from the teleportation platform, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the dark room. Where was he? Where was everyone else? He took in the broken old transporter platform, covered in moss and pools of water, and took a deep breath of the cool, damp air. Little people, standing only a few feet tall, wearing bright ponchos and scarves, were apparently being ritualistically murdered by slightly taller people. These ones dressed like savages, wearing skulls and leather and weapons all over their bodies. Horrible, spiky dog-like things growled and whined at him. This was not Altori-Prime. He glanced at his wrist-mate. It said… 3AM, January 22nd 3087? That’s...wrong. It was definitely June 2095 five minutes ago. He took in the whole room. Something was very off here. He tried out his vocal chords. They were...strained, rough, like he’d been asleep for days. He coughed. He spoke.
“What the hell?”
The little, big-eyed, purple-skinned person in front of him did what he imagined was supposed to be a smile.
“Shvoko nam shivak” it said.
James shook his head. This was not a great start to his first day at work.
|
The days on this planet are longer: I’m pretty sure one day here is at least 4 days back on Earth - the sun here, smaller yet hotter, is literally a perpetual presence, and, if I had sunscreen and a hat and water, its cheerful brightness might’ve been a beacon of hope but it’s burning my skin and leaving me dehydrated so much I started seeing things: long dead daughters and a rather frightening mirage of my boss, Mr Vander, telling me I’m almost at my destination, I’m almost there, *keep going, Miany*.
I last spoke to him at least 15 hours ago: his only advice was that I find the local inhabitants of the planet and ask for their help, something he was very confident would work: he didn’t think they’d be hostile or frightened of an alien like me in anyway. Mr Vander is charming and confident, the “Cool Fox” we sometimes call him due to a certain cunning that lies just beneath his handsome looks, and when he says anything with that deep, steady voice of his you believe him, you even start believing in yourself.
In my 45 years of living, I’ve never thought of thirst as being physically painful - it’s always been more of a nag, a bother at worst. My lips are dryer than the sand I trudge through - the hyperplane, my masterful invention, crashed in place that’s weirdly like the Sahara: bone-dry and excruciating glare, a hell up on the surface.
It’s odd that the hyperplane malfunctioned - in fact, when I realized, with a cold twist of my stomach, that I was going to veer off course into wild space, I couldn’t believe it: my hyperplanes, an out-of-this-world progression of human accomplishment, couldn’t possibly have a fault.
They were built because the Earth was dying and humanity needed a new home - which we found in a habitable planet called Spugg - and we needed to get there damn quickly. FTL was still decades away and so the hyperplanes, while initially rejected by the masses, were employed.
I’m seeing something else now in this alien desert, a settlement, buildings and walking figures, unlikely since it seemed crazy that anyone could live in this firehole. But, as I stumble forwards, feet black and on fire, I realize that hallucinations have quite a different quality than real stuff, and that what’s before me is actually a small village - from here, in my dizzy, near-death state, I see grotesque humanoids ambling around, gnarled limbs sticking out of their torsos, a nightmare if I was in a more stable state of mind.
I don’t care if they might be hostile, all I need is water, or, at any rate, an equivalent to it. I shout and every single one of them, in disturbing, choreographed unity, turn their heads in my direction. As I wave my hands, already regretting my decision, my communicator beeps: judging by the mugshot-like picture of a strong young man on the screen, it’s one of the engineering interns back on Earth, which is odd because I don’t quite expect interns to be involved in my rescue mission.
“Hello - “ I begin but I gasp when I see the interns face on the video call: bloody and bashed, eyes slits and purple.
“Miany!” he shouts. Interns usually, in fright and awe, refer to me as Miss Ogamenda, so him calling me by my name means there’s something serious going on. Before I can ask what the fuck, he continues:
“Miany. I only have little time left! Listen to me!”
“What is it?” Instantly, like medicine, an unnerving energy washes over me: the desert is discarded and forgotten. “Is the meteor about to strike Earth?”
“No, listen!” He is barely intelligible since his mouth is so puffy. “Everything was a lie! I overhead them, Mr Vander, Mrs Plygien, everyone! I managed to get away but they’ve got soldiers on me. I’ve already broadcast the whole truth to the entire Eartg.”
I can see him, with his sturdy frame, fighting off advancing guards, and with a sinking feeling, I realize what he meant when he said “little time”.
“The Earth isn’t dying. Vander Inc. has been polluting and destroying the Earth on purpose so that they could get government funding to find and conquer other worlds! It’s all a thirst for power!”
“What?”
“Your hyperplane: it didn’t just malfunction, it was tampered with. They figured you were too close to the inner circle and couldn’t be trusted if the truth was leaked to you. They only wanted your brains and inventions, your hyperplane especially, and they always planned to get rid of you afterwards. You’ve always been outspoken and fought for what’s right - we interns always admired you about that. There was no way they could risk you finding out, Miany.”
My head is spinning: faintly, like they’re on some faraway planet, I can hear the aliens approaching, massive feet thudding on sand
“Oh, fuck, they’re coming.” Fear and death are in the intern’s eyes as he looks up from his communicator and back down to me. “They tried to kill you! Not just by making you crash on an alien desert planet but on an alien desert planet with aliens who’ve come into contact with humans before. Bad contact, hundreds of years ago in the early 21st century. They hate humans and will arrest or kill one on sight!”
As the thought of being wanted on two fronts sinks in, the intern’s eyes widen, and when he tries to open his mouth in a rigid, spastic way, there’s an explosion, and the screen of the communicator goes black.
|
|
[WP] FTL travel is very expensive, so humanity creates a web of hyperlanes between systems, that speed up time inside them, making travel cheaper. You enter a malfunctioning hyperlane. When you leave it, you find a galaxy with no humans, full of alien races, that see your kind as ancient precursors.
|
Jimmy slowly woke up to the sounds of beeps and warning. Finally, he was able to make out the words, "Warning. Location Beacon System failure. Switching to alternate." He tried his radio, looking for maintenance, dispatch, or anyone to answer. There was no answer.
He was trained for this. He could handle this. It is his job, after all. Suddenly, one of the passengers spoke up, saying what everyone was thinking, "What the hell happened?" Jimmy tried to reassure the passengers, while trying to reassure himself: "There appears to have been a slight issue with the hyperlane. Don't worry. We will get you to your destination in no time. Once the hyperlane is back up we can re-enter, or we can just find the next closest hyperlane and take a detour. But there is nothing to worry about."
Now, of course there was something to worry about, and Jimmy knew this. If the hyperlane malfunctioned, they could have been spit out at any point along the route. To get back on, the hyperlane would have to be fixed, and they would have to find an entry point. But which way was the closest entry point? Jimmy knew that they needed to figure out where they were. That had to be the priority. He turned to Bob. "I'm going on figuring out where we are, but you need to go back there and calm the passengers. Public transportation already has a bad enough reputation. We don't need a riot to make things worse."
Bob was good as a copilot, but he was even better as a people person. Jimmy knew that Bob could handle the uneasiness in the passenger compartment. Trusting in Bob's skill for the passengers, he turned is eyes back towards the problem of location. He knew that they had to be somewhere along the hyperlane route, but where? If only he could find another entry point. There should be a location beacon there that they could use to pinpoint their location. Suddenly, Jimmy felt his training kicking in. He started thinking out loud: "Ok. So, we can't follow the path of the hyperlane without our location system working. How do we know which way to go? That's right, we can follow our own ion trail. That will show us where we were, which will eventually take us to the last entry point we passed. That is, of course, assuming the ion trail doesn't dissipate before we find it. But, we gotta start somewhere."
The engines came to life and the shuttle started turning around. The ion trail was still fresh and easy for the shuttle systems to detect. Jimmy knew they were heading the right way.
They continued and continued waiting for a sign of an entry point. Waiting for communication from anyone. But something felt off. There were some isolated areas along the hyperlane, but this felt too isolated. And along the routes were emergency beacons in the isolated areas for just this purpose. But Jimmy hadn't seen any entry points. He hadn't seen any emergency beacons. He had, in fact, seen nothing but distant stars.
A slight glimmer caught Jimmy's eye. He looked out of the side of the ship and saw something approaching from the distance. It looked like a ship, but nothing he had seen before. It didn't matter. He grabbed the radio and tried to contact them. Silence. He tried again. More silence. Soon, more ships started to approach from different angles. He frantically tried signalling them. Still nothing. He calmly called for Bob to come back up.
"Bob, I think our radio system might be down. I'm trying to hail these ships, but I'm getting nothing." "Whose ships are they? That could help us figure out where we are" Bob asked. Before Jimmy could even answer they were interrupted by the computer. "Alternate Location System is active. Based on the location of stars, we are at an 87% match with Darvos." Jimmy and Bob looked at each other. "Did that just say Darvos?", Bob asked. Jimmy replied, "Did that just say an 87% match?". Bob replied, "But if we are at Darvos, that means we made it to the end of the hyperlane. We are at our destination! Where *is* everything?" Jimmy just said again, "Only an 87% match? That just doesn't make sense." They were both interrupted again by the computer. "Alternate Location System, location determined. 100% Match. Location is Darvos. Year 42,739." Jimmy and Bob stared at each other with shocked faces. Bob said, "42,739. That is nearly 40,000 years in the future! Well that would explain why we don't see any signs of the Darvos that we know." Jimmy, looking at all of the ships that are now close enough to see into, said, "We have a bigger problem. I don't see any species that we know, either..."
---
My first time trying to write something. Obviously I need a lot of work, but the idea was in my head and I wanted to share it.
|
The days on this planet are longer: I’m pretty sure one day here is at least 4 days back on Earth - the sun here, smaller yet hotter, is literally a perpetual presence, and, if I had sunscreen and a hat and water, its cheerful brightness might’ve been a beacon of hope but it’s burning my skin and leaving me dehydrated so much I started seeing things: long dead daughters and a rather frightening mirage of my boss, Mr Vander, telling me I’m almost at my destination, I’m almost there, *keep going, Miany*.
I last spoke to him at least 15 hours ago: his only advice was that I find the local inhabitants of the planet and ask for their help, something he was very confident would work: he didn’t think they’d be hostile or frightened of an alien like me in anyway. Mr Vander is charming and confident, the “Cool Fox” we sometimes call him due to a certain cunning that lies just beneath his handsome looks, and when he says anything with that deep, steady voice of his you believe him, you even start believing in yourself.
In my 45 years of living, I’ve never thought of thirst as being physically painful - it’s always been more of a nag, a bother at worst. My lips are dryer than the sand I trudge through - the hyperplane, my masterful invention, crashed in place that’s weirdly like the Sahara: bone-dry and excruciating glare, a hell up on the surface.
It’s odd that the hyperplane malfunctioned - in fact, when I realized, with a cold twist of my stomach, that I was going to veer off course into wild space, I couldn’t believe it: my hyperplanes, an out-of-this-world progression of human accomplishment, couldn’t possibly have a fault.
They were built because the Earth was dying and humanity needed a new home - which we found in a habitable planet called Spugg - and we needed to get there damn quickly. FTL was still decades away and so the hyperplanes, while initially rejected by the masses, were employed.
I’m seeing something else now in this alien desert, a settlement, buildings and walking figures, unlikely since it seemed crazy that anyone could live in this firehole. But, as I stumble forwards, feet black and on fire, I realize that hallucinations have quite a different quality than real stuff, and that what’s before me is actually a small village - from here, in my dizzy, near-death state, I see grotesque humanoids ambling around, gnarled limbs sticking out of their torsos, a nightmare if I was in a more stable state of mind.
I don’t care if they might be hostile, all I need is water, or, at any rate, an equivalent to it. I shout and every single one of them, in disturbing, choreographed unity, turn their heads in my direction. As I wave my hands, already regretting my decision, my communicator beeps: judging by the mugshot-like picture of a strong young man on the screen, it’s one of the engineering interns back on Earth, which is odd because I don’t quite expect interns to be involved in my rescue mission.
“Hello - “ I begin but I gasp when I see the interns face on the video call: bloody and bashed, eyes slits and purple.
“Miany!” he shouts. Interns usually, in fright and awe, refer to me as Miss Ogamenda, so him calling me by my name means there’s something serious going on. Before I can ask what the fuck, he continues:
“Miany. I only have little time left! Listen to me!”
“What is it?” Instantly, like medicine, an unnerving energy washes over me: the desert is discarded and forgotten. “Is the meteor about to strike Earth?”
“No, listen!” He is barely intelligible since his mouth is so puffy. “Everything was a lie! I overhead them, Mr Vander, Mrs Plygien, everyone! I managed to get away but they’ve got soldiers on me. I’ve already broadcast the whole truth to the entire Eartg.”
I can see him, with his sturdy frame, fighting off advancing guards, and with a sinking feeling, I realize what he meant when he said “little time”.
“The Earth isn’t dying. Vander Inc. has been polluting and destroying the Earth on purpose so that they could get government funding to find and conquer other worlds! It’s all a thirst for power!”
“What?”
“Your hyperplane: it didn’t just malfunction, it was tampered with. They figured you were too close to the inner circle and couldn’t be trusted if the truth was leaked to you. They only wanted your brains and inventions, your hyperplane especially, and they always planned to get rid of you afterwards. You’ve always been outspoken and fought for what’s right - we interns always admired you about that. There was no way they could risk you finding out, Miany.”
My head is spinning: faintly, like they’re on some faraway planet, I can hear the aliens approaching, massive feet thudding on sand
“Oh, fuck, they’re coming.” Fear and death are in the intern’s eyes as he looks up from his communicator and back down to me. “They tried to kill you! Not just by making you crash on an alien desert planet but on an alien desert planet with aliens who’ve come into contact with humans before. Bad contact, hundreds of years ago in the early 21st century. They hate humans and will arrest or kill one on sight!”
As the thought of being wanted on two fronts sinks in, the intern’s eyes widen, and when he tries to open his mouth in a rigid, spastic way, there’s an explosion, and the screen of the communicator goes black.
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[WP] FTL travel is very expensive, so humanity creates a web of hyperlanes between systems, that speed up time inside them, making travel cheaper. You enter a malfunctioning hyperlane. When you leave it, you find a galaxy with no humans, full of alien races, that see your kind as ancient precursors.
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*The biggest pain in the ass in the galaxy is the damn gates.
I say this as a gate physicist. I was there when we built the first ones, and just five years later the experiments closed down and we all figured out "that's that, nothing else to do here." It turns out there are only so many ways you can tweak spacetime before it, to simplify, gets pissed off. One way is to emit EM through a region of stabilized bubble-space. You'd think being able to transit information would be cheaper than matter, right?
In terms of gate physics, you'd be wrong. You do that, it doesn't work, you do too much of that, the bubble stabilizers (what you call a gate) explode and you get a nifty little shockwave through spacetime that the universe chooses to interpret as a gravitational wave. That's what happened to Jupiter. Damn shame, that. Just one gas giant funneled into a short-lived singularity and no one wants to do physics anymore.
So now I'm a fucking courier. I mean, you really can't transit a hyperlane without an advanced degree in gate physics, but those of us who really fucked up at Jupiter get this shit job, and I fucked up the worst of everyone. I was the goddamned lead. We get to fly out from Sol and ping pong around the universe on three month shifts just doing data dumps. All of those shiny-new colony worlds need their infodumps and uploads. The bigger ones have got material passing through, so the data delivery is regular and piggybacked, just like whatever else they receive. Me though? Data only. Half the time I don't even get to put down at the colony, just orbit near whatever ass-end of nowhere rock they put the gate near. They're still afraid of the damn things.
Give us three years and an out-of-the-way system with a decent gravity well and we'll iron out the kinks enough that you'll have a damn gate in your bedroom that leads to your office, or hell, at least an intercolony equivalent of the Earth net.*
Robert scanned his rant and clicked 'Send.' That clown doing the 'Where are they now' story of people involved in the Jupiter Incident wouldn't print a word, but it left him feeling better. He nudged his pod into the final approach for the New Arab Emirates gate. He liked the NAE. It was a money-talks sort of place, but it was also comfortable and the air smelled good.
"Hey there Intrepid, you doing okay?" he asked the pod.
"Looking forward to getting serviced after we touch down, actually. Those techs at Dubai station really know what they're doing" the Intrepid replied, with a genderless voice.
"Any reason to look forward to service?" Robert asked, tapping his way through the diagnostics interface in front of him, "hey you didn't tell me about that."
"Sorry," the pod replied, "just that same minor variance in thrust on number three, nothing to worry about. Ganymede Memorial just sucks a thruster maintenance."
"Still, probably should have let me know before now. Damn man, you act like this isn't a precision enterprise."
"You're right, but you do like to worry," the pod sounded concerned, "prepping for transit in ten seconds on the mark alert."
The gate-lockdown klaxon sounded and the blast shutters dropped across the viewscreen as a visual countdown began on the panel. At zero, a vague feeling of unease passed over Robert. "Uh, hey, that was a little weird," he said.
"So hey, you remember that thruster variance?"
"You're shitting me."
"I lack an anus, but if I did I probably would be dropping a brick through it."
The shutter raised and outside of the viewscreen was a view of what was obviously a black hole, accretion disk and all. More concerning, was what looked like a cross between a spacecraft and a sea creature at a scale that Robert had never seen before just off the port bow.
"It's hailing us," Intrepid said. "I can't make it out though, seems like some kinda cross between English, Chinese and Tagalog."
"Can't you process all of those?"
"Not like this...but hey...does something about the universal constant being useful as a galactic clock mean anything to you?"
"Yeah, a paper I wrote as an undergrad covered that, why?"
"If this math is right, then...well you should check."
A series of complex equations appeared on the viewscreen.
"Wait, that can't be right, that would put us at...what...a million years?"
"Looks like. Hey, I've been chatting with their computer, nice chap by the way, I think I can translate real time now, you want to open a channel Bob?" Intrepid asked.
"Yeah, let's get this over with."
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They found him in the Aquartis Conglomerate. Their oozing stalks perked up as they saw the derelict ship on their plascreen. There was noise coming from the things, but it was clear to anyone listening that they were communicating.
They knew that this patch of the Transmat Network was damaged, and had been for a long time; at least fifteen galactic Aeon Units. They attempted to hail the ship using the Neuranet, but to no avail.
They were chittering amogst themselves when they saw abn ancient holdover blinking at the screen of one of the officers. The aliens pushed a button, and the hail appeared on the plascreen.
"Hello?" a thickly accented voice came through. On the screen, a dark-skinned woman appeared, dyed red hair in a tight ponytail and whipcord muscle showing through the clothing. The Neuranet was frantically searching the databanks on the Net to translate from the heavily-accented English.
"Can you guys hear me? I am the only survivor of the Omicron Persiei Incident. We didn't get there in time, and had to evacuate through the early Transmatter network, but our interstellar clock was knocked offline, as was our power. We're nearing the end of the backups, and only have an hour before our LS systems go offline.
"We need help here. Please respond."
There was frantic communication across the bridge of the starhip *Ghnk m'Klse*, a Nova-class starship by Galactic standards - primitive, but with everything needed to defend itself in low-end combat. The one in the centre turned to the plascreen, clearly indicating that the Neuranet was to interpret and translate its collection of grunts, squeaks and sighs.
"Good day to you, Fleshling. WE can assist you in this matter." There was a pause, as the Neuranet flashed up a Red alert on the Captain's personal HUDscreen. The Omicron Persiei Incident had taken place a *long* time ago - so much that it was basically a footnote in the greater history of the Galaxies. There was a moment of silence, and then the captain hushed the bridge compeltely.
"You are the Prophesied One, the Legacy and the Future. Speak your name, Human." The screen flickered, as the transmission over the radio frequency, almost extinct in this age, was compensated. "I am coming to you now, and my engineers will aid you in your endeavor, Prophesied One."
She sighed in relief. She hadn't noticed the four corpses strapped into the other seats, but the captain *definitely* had. She nodded. "Okay, I'll send you our docking codes now. Be advised - our entry was hot, and I don't know about the rest of the crew." She looked around, gasped in horror, and unstrapped herself out of the chair with the twin-stick navigation system.
A single tear fell from her left eye. She turned around, the tear tracking its way down her cheek. "My name is Ororo !XDidi. I await your team. Ororo out."
The plascreen went back to the view of the ship from the outside. there was frantic communication on the ship before a hacking, coughing roar stopped all discussion. The captain pointed to three members, and spoke in a fierce vocalisation. The four people left the bridge of the ship, and three of the aliens sent back communiques to HQ. The news was momentous.
The Prophesied One had arrived. The Primus Race had returned....*for now.*
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[WP] FTL travel is very expensive, so humanity creates a web of hyperlanes between systems, that speed up time inside them, making travel cheaper. You enter a malfunctioning hyperlane. When you leave it, you find a galaxy with no humans, full of alien races, that see your kind as ancient precursors.
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The glow from the instrument panel permeated his eyelids. The soft, familiar orange light accompanied by the proximity alarms drew him back to conciousness.
“Engine core 55% depletion. Warning. Collision. Warning. Collision. Warning…”
With a start, Lucas Davian sat upright and ripped the goggles off his face. Panic building, he put both hands on the throttle controls and slammed the light transport into reverse. Julia, the ship, groaned in protest against its own forward inertia and began to slow. With just the slightest of a jolt, the nose of the craft tapped into the side of the derelict transit station, Julia's shields shrugging off the inconsequential love tap.
wait, what? derelict? I was here just last week.
Rubbing his eyes, Lucas stared out the cockpit window at the station. Visibility wasn't an issue, the bulbous cockpit screen automatically brightens dim images, has several zoom levels and wraps around both sides of the occupant to fill in peripheral vision.
Visibility wasn't the issue, comprehension was. The transit station, once a lively hub bridging the Timelight (TL) lanes between Alpha Proxima and the Veritas System, was a corroded, twisted shell. The windows long since shattered or missing entirely. The solar resistant blue grey paint was worn to bare metal, and the station itself now seemed to resemble a gargantuan steel octopus with its many docking bridges stuck out in random directions where they had been knocked about by various debris and collisions.
And there's no ships. Lucas realized he had never seen the busy hub without there being a frustratingly long docking line of various ships from all over the quadrants. Traders, smugglers, passenger liners, even some of the United Navy vessels would stop through if the John C Sherman highway was under maintenance. It made him uneasy.
“Engine Core 55%”
Oh right. Coolant and fuel.
The Timelight system was notoriously hard on engines, and Julia wasn't exactly a shining example of modern tech. Since the Timelight rings sped up the passage of time to make long journeys more palatable, the wear on space faring vessels was equally increased. Julia was at the end of a 3 week journey which, adjusted for TL, was just about a year.
So why was Christenson Hub…
“Oh shit….” The words escaped his chapped lips of their own accord. Lucas's mind was spinning as he slowly flew around the decrepit hub station. Realization was setting in, and the outlook was grim.
“Command not recognized.”
“Julia, what's today's date?”
“It is January 22nd, Earth year 5244. You have 214 missed events.”
Oh god it cant be.
“Julia,” his voice croaked, “what year is it?”
“It is Earth year 5244.”
“What the fuck do you mean, 5244? Julia, run system diagnostics.”
After a brief whir of computer fans, Julia responded.
“Systems check complete. Engine core 55%. Shields 100% Shield battery 75% all other systems nominal. For a detailed scan, say 'details’”.
Lucas had left for his trip on February 1st.
Earth year 2644.
“Julia, plot a course for Trepidity Commerce Station.”
“Station beacon not found. Would you like to plot a manual course?”
Earth year 5244 Earth year 5244 Earth year 5244 Earth year 5244 Earth year 5244 Earth year 5244
“Calm down.” Lucas's words had little effect on his racing thoughts, the heart beating out of his chest.
“Command not recognized. Your heart rate is elevated at 185 bpm. Is medical attention desired?”
“No. Julia, find any nearby stations with available docking rings.”
“Scanning.”
Still absent-mindedly flying around the hub station, Lucas's eyes were drawn to the small remnants of life around him. A Viper class sportscraft docked near the gift shop, both worn nearly beyond recognition. A Navy Vessel of unknown type split in half and corroding away near the fuel depot. Several large laser marks burned into its hull. Gaping holes in the stations wall, exposing wires and cables. It was not clear how much of the damage was caused by thousands of years of debris collisions, and how much was caused by explosions and laser fire.
The station must've been attacked.
With how much time had elapsed, Lucas supposed the station could've been attacked many times since he last saw it.
Earth year 5244
“Julia, hold position. I need a drink.”
“Confirmed. Enjoy your break, Lucas.”
Lucas left the cockpit and thanked the inventor of the stasis field protecting his ship's interior from the accelerated time dilation of the TL lanes. Uncorking a bottle of Drevick Whiskey, he thanked the stasis field’s inventor a second time for protecting his booze and poured a glass while he pondered his circumstances. Julia had enough provisions for maybe another couple of months or so without rationing too hard.
As he looked around the dining area connected to the cockpit by a short four step staircase, he noted the aluminum cabinets and shelves lining the bluesteel walls.
Maybe more like a month.
Setting his glass down on the oval shaped ironwood table, Lucas toyed with the idea of switching on his personal communicator. It would be pointless, of course, anyone with his contact information would be long dead, and the servers holding his messages would be as well.
“Fuck it.” He turned it on and stared at the 'no signal’ dialogue box.
Setting it down with a sigh, He decided to check the engine room, mostly just to stay occupied than anything else.
The door to the engine room unsealed with a hiss and Lucas peered into the dimly lit maintenance hall from the dining area.
Lucas walked down the dreary, rusty hall, grabbed his toolkit, and went to work on the engines.
“Signal check complete. There are four unidentified dock-ready stations within fuel distance.”
Lucas leaned back on his heels and set his toolkit beside him. Wiping the oil on his pants, and satisfied he had done as much as he could with the tools that he had, he stood.
“Julia, check the engines again.”
“Engines 59%”
That's just going to have to be enough.
“Julia, plot a course for the closest signal.”
Working on part 2
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They found him in the Aquartis Conglomerate. Their oozing stalks perked up as they saw the derelict ship on their plascreen. There was noise coming from the things, but it was clear to anyone listening that they were communicating.
They knew that this patch of the Transmat Network was damaged, and had been for a long time; at least fifteen galactic Aeon Units. They attempted to hail the ship using the Neuranet, but to no avail.
They were chittering amogst themselves when they saw abn ancient holdover blinking at the screen of one of the officers. The aliens pushed a button, and the hail appeared on the plascreen.
"Hello?" a thickly accented voice came through. On the screen, a dark-skinned woman appeared, dyed red hair in a tight ponytail and whipcord muscle showing through the clothing. The Neuranet was frantically searching the databanks on the Net to translate from the heavily-accented English.
"Can you guys hear me? I am the only survivor of the Omicron Persiei Incident. We didn't get there in time, and had to evacuate through the early Transmatter network, but our interstellar clock was knocked offline, as was our power. We're nearing the end of the backups, and only have an hour before our LS systems go offline.
"We need help here. Please respond."
There was frantic communication across the bridge of the starhip *Ghnk m'Klse*, a Nova-class starship by Galactic standards - primitive, but with everything needed to defend itself in low-end combat. The one in the centre turned to the plascreen, clearly indicating that the Neuranet was to interpret and translate its collection of grunts, squeaks and sighs.
"Good day to you, Fleshling. WE can assist you in this matter." There was a pause, as the Neuranet flashed up a Red alert on the Captain's personal HUDscreen. The Omicron Persiei Incident had taken place a *long* time ago - so much that it was basically a footnote in the greater history of the Galaxies. There was a moment of silence, and then the captain hushed the bridge compeltely.
"You are the Prophesied One, the Legacy and the Future. Speak your name, Human." The screen flickered, as the transmission over the radio frequency, almost extinct in this age, was compensated. "I am coming to you now, and my engineers will aid you in your endeavor, Prophesied One."
She sighed in relief. She hadn't noticed the four corpses strapped into the other seats, but the captain *definitely* had. She nodded. "Okay, I'll send you our docking codes now. Be advised - our entry was hot, and I don't know about the rest of the crew." She looked around, gasped in horror, and unstrapped herself out of the chair with the twin-stick navigation system.
A single tear fell from her left eye. She turned around, the tear tracking its way down her cheek. "My name is Ororo !XDidi. I await your team. Ororo out."
The plascreen went back to the view of the ship from the outside. there was frantic communication on the ship before a hacking, coughing roar stopped all discussion. The captain pointed to three members, and spoke in a fierce vocalisation. The four people left the bridge of the ship, and three of the aliens sent back communiques to HQ. The news was momentous.
The Prophesied One had arrived. The Primus Race had returned....*for now.*
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[WP] FTL travel is very expensive, so humanity creates a web of hyperlanes between systems, that speed up time inside them, making travel cheaper. You enter a malfunctioning hyperlane. When you leave it, you find a galaxy with no humans, full of alien races, that see your kind as ancient precursors.
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Jimmy slowly woke up to the sounds of beeps and warning. Finally, he was able to make out the words, "Warning. Location Beacon System failure. Switching to alternate." He tried his radio, looking for maintenance, dispatch, or anyone to answer. There was no answer.
He was trained for this. He could handle this. It is his job, after all. Suddenly, one of the passengers spoke up, saying what everyone was thinking, "What the hell happened?" Jimmy tried to reassure the passengers, while trying to reassure himself: "There appears to have been a slight issue with the hyperlane. Don't worry. We will get you to your destination in no time. Once the hyperlane is back up we can re-enter, or we can just find the next closest hyperlane and take a detour. But there is nothing to worry about."
Now, of course there was something to worry about, and Jimmy knew this. If the hyperlane malfunctioned, they could have been spit out at any point along the route. To get back on, the hyperlane would have to be fixed, and they would have to find an entry point. But which way was the closest entry point? Jimmy knew that they needed to figure out where they were. That had to be the priority. He turned to Bob. "I'm going on figuring out where we are, but you need to go back there and calm the passengers. Public transportation already has a bad enough reputation. We don't need a riot to make things worse."
Bob was good as a copilot, but he was even better as a people person. Jimmy knew that Bob could handle the uneasiness in the passenger compartment. Trusting in Bob's skill for the passengers, he turned is eyes back towards the problem of location. He knew that they had to be somewhere along the hyperlane route, but where? If only he could find another entry point. There should be a location beacon there that they could use to pinpoint their location. Suddenly, Jimmy felt his training kicking in. He started thinking out loud: "Ok. So, we can't follow the path of the hyperlane without our location system working. How do we know which way to go? That's right, we can follow our own ion trail. That will show us where we were, which will eventually take us to the last entry point we passed. That is, of course, assuming the ion trail doesn't dissipate before we find it. But, we gotta start somewhere."
The engines came to life and the shuttle started turning around. The ion trail was still fresh and easy for the shuttle systems to detect. Jimmy knew they were heading the right way.
They continued and continued waiting for a sign of an entry point. Waiting for communication from anyone. But something felt off. There were some isolated areas along the hyperlane, but this felt too isolated. And along the routes were emergency beacons in the isolated areas for just this purpose. But Jimmy hadn't seen any entry points. He hadn't seen any emergency beacons. He had, in fact, seen nothing but distant stars.
A slight glimmer caught Jimmy's eye. He looked out of the side of the ship and saw something approaching from the distance. It looked like a ship, but nothing he had seen before. It didn't matter. He grabbed the radio and tried to contact them. Silence. He tried again. More silence. Soon, more ships started to approach from different angles. He frantically tried signalling them. Still nothing. He calmly called for Bob to come back up.
"Bob, I think our radio system might be down. I'm trying to hail these ships, but I'm getting nothing." "Whose ships are they? That could help us figure out where we are" Bob asked. Before Jimmy could even answer they were interrupted by the computer. "Alternate Location System is active. Based on the location of stars, we are at an 87% match with Darvos." Jimmy and Bob looked at each other. "Did that just say Darvos?", Bob asked. Jimmy replied, "Did that just say an 87% match?". Bob replied, "But if we are at Darvos, that means we made it to the end of the hyperlane. We are at our destination! Where *is* everything?" Jimmy just said again, "Only an 87% match? That just doesn't make sense." They were both interrupted again by the computer. "Alternate Location System, location determined. 100% Match. Location is Darvos. Year 42,739." Jimmy and Bob stared at each other with shocked faces. Bob said, "42,739. That is nearly 40,000 years in the future! Well that would explain why we don't see any signs of the Darvos that we know." Jimmy, looking at all of the ships that are now close enough to see into, said, "We have a bigger problem. I don't see any species that we know, either..."
---
My first time trying to write something. Obviously I need a lot of work, but the idea was in my head and I wanted to share it.
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Lars drummed his fingers on the plastic top of a console, gazing balefully at the display in front of him. It was currently toggled to the bow camera's view, and showed a buzzing collection of construction barges around the massive pentagon of a hyperlane gate. At any other time, the shape would be filled with the warping black streams characteristic of a rip in spacetime, but right now all he could see through it was stars.
Damnable, distant stars.
The console in front of him began whirring erratically, and he took a step back to see a message appearing on the screen.
`>#INBOUND MESSAGE#: [ITIN/4602at4g17v] **Sector 111/TE Repair Team** #MESSAGE START# `
`>"Thank you all for being so patient as repairs are ongoing. Unfortunately, upon more detailed examination, `
`>the degradation to the gate electronics and machinery has been upgraded to 'severe'. This particular gate will `
`>not be operational for at least three days. For emergency transport, an FTL barge has been provided for your `
`>convenience, courtesy of DioxWay, LLC. We appreciate your understanding." `
`>#MESSAGE END# `
Lars sighed, and fell back into his chair. He had been anxious to get home before the delay, but now he knew he had no way of getting there on time. He checked the calendar taped to the bulkhead beside him. The days of the month had all been faithfully crossed off, except for one simply labeled "Anniversary". He groaned and ran his hands roughly through his hair, mind grasping at any possibility of reaching home before tomorrow. To his dismay, only one solution rose in his mind, time after time: the FTL barge. He knew he didn't have enough savings to afford such a jump, and never had. He dejectedly began clicking through the list of contacts on the console, until he arrived at one labeled **BANK**. His finger hovered over the ENTER key, and on the viewscreen above him, the hyperlane gate violently sprung into life.
He sat frozen for a moment, then frantically slid his chair to the left and unfolded a larger console with a *clunk*. Spooling up the engines with one hand, he expertly manipulated the directional joystick with the other, until the glowing green target on the screen in front of him matched the gate on the viewscreen. With one sweeping motion, he maxed the throttle on all rear engines. He was pushed back in his seat under the acceleration as the gate rapidly filled the viewscreen. Lars braced himself, but as he passed through the gate he couldn't help but feel an immense and crushing sense of loss.
The computer behind him chirped, letting him know they were back in real space. Lars tugged the throttles back, rubbing his shoulder with one hand. *Gate Drop never gets any easier*, he thought, reminding himself that his family was fine, nothing had happened to them. Unlike the other jumps, however, the Drop persisted. He felt unreasonable tears well in his eyes, and had to will himself to breathe deeply and calmly. He glanced towards the calendar again, and a message on the center console caught his eye. He slid over to better read it. It was incomplete, cut off halfway through transmission. He guessed it had sent shortly before he entered the gate.
`>#INBOUND MESSAGE#: [ITIN:469zk6g091f] **Sector 111/TE Repair Team** #MESSAGE START# `
`>"ADVISORY NOTICE: We are now beginning a diagnostic test of the needle engines to discover their current `
`>functional state. WARNING. As the navigational computer has been disconnected for this test, the gate is `
`>'Wild' and will have no set destination. Do not approach the gate und _ _ _" `
` >#ERROR# {TR: Server Connection Lost} `
Lars glanced up at the viewscreen, his face pale. There was a complete lack of glittering homeworlds on display, only the empty black of space. Less than a dozen stars could be seen.
The feeling of loss had not faded, and that coupled with the rising panic threatened to overwhelm him. He took deep, slow breaths, and had almost calmed down again when the blackness moved. Lars flicked on the front arc lamps.
A translucent, pulsing mass in front of him was suddenly illuminated, covered in tree-trunk tentacles and glittering, multifaceted eyes. As Lars stared, a thought slithered into the front of his mind.
*We welcome you, Benefactor.*
Lars watched the mass in front of him, at a loss for words. His eye caught on a white-and-silver shape clutched within one tentacle, and he focused on it. All he could make out around the milky flesh of the tentacle was an extendable satellite dish, the orange canvas between each arm tattered and worn.
"W-where am I?" He said uncertainly, and another thought wriggled into view.
*You have come far. We have prophesied your return for millennia.*
A tentacle slowly approached the viewscreen, tip holding what appeared to be a flat golden plate.
"I... don't think you have," Lars replied, "I've never heard of giant space octopusses before."
*Octopi, we believe. Nevertheless, your artifacts are the stuff of legend. We have advanced considerably with your help.*
Another tentacle came into view, bringing with it...
"No," Lars breathed, mind casting back to high school history class. He watched in awe as the disk was placed onto the device held in the second tentacle.
*BEHOLD,* The inner voice thundered, tentacle presenting the completed record player, *The Bringers Of Sound have arrived! Glory be to Carter, King of Kings, and Humanity, for the secrets of the Twelve-Inch Disk!*
Edit: Fixed mobile formatting.
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[WP] FTL travel is very expensive, so humanity creates a web of hyperlanes between systems, that speed up time inside them, making travel cheaper. You enter a malfunctioning hyperlane. When you leave it, you find a galaxy with no humans, full of alien races, that see your kind as ancient precursors.
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Jimmy slowly woke up to the sounds of beeps and warning. Finally, he was able to make out the words, "Warning. Location Beacon System failure. Switching to alternate." He tried his radio, looking for maintenance, dispatch, or anyone to answer. There was no answer.
He was trained for this. He could handle this. It is his job, after all. Suddenly, one of the passengers spoke up, saying what everyone was thinking, "What the hell happened?" Jimmy tried to reassure the passengers, while trying to reassure himself: "There appears to have been a slight issue with the hyperlane. Don't worry. We will get you to your destination in no time. Once the hyperlane is back up we can re-enter, or we can just find the next closest hyperlane and take a detour. But there is nothing to worry about."
Now, of course there was something to worry about, and Jimmy knew this. If the hyperlane malfunctioned, they could have been spit out at any point along the route. To get back on, the hyperlane would have to be fixed, and they would have to find an entry point. But which way was the closest entry point? Jimmy knew that they needed to figure out where they were. That had to be the priority. He turned to Bob. "I'm going on figuring out where we are, but you need to go back there and calm the passengers. Public transportation already has a bad enough reputation. We don't need a riot to make things worse."
Bob was good as a copilot, but he was even better as a people person. Jimmy knew that Bob could handle the uneasiness in the passenger compartment. Trusting in Bob's skill for the passengers, he turned is eyes back towards the problem of location. He knew that they had to be somewhere along the hyperlane route, but where? If only he could find another entry point. There should be a location beacon there that they could use to pinpoint their location. Suddenly, Jimmy felt his training kicking in. He started thinking out loud: "Ok. So, we can't follow the path of the hyperlane without our location system working. How do we know which way to go? That's right, we can follow our own ion trail. That will show us where we were, which will eventually take us to the last entry point we passed. That is, of course, assuming the ion trail doesn't dissipate before we find it. But, we gotta start somewhere."
The engines came to life and the shuttle started turning around. The ion trail was still fresh and easy for the shuttle systems to detect. Jimmy knew they were heading the right way.
They continued and continued waiting for a sign of an entry point. Waiting for communication from anyone. But something felt off. There were some isolated areas along the hyperlane, but this felt too isolated. And along the routes were emergency beacons in the isolated areas for just this purpose. But Jimmy hadn't seen any entry points. He hadn't seen any emergency beacons. He had, in fact, seen nothing but distant stars.
A slight glimmer caught Jimmy's eye. He looked out of the side of the ship and saw something approaching from the distance. It looked like a ship, but nothing he had seen before. It didn't matter. He grabbed the radio and tried to contact them. Silence. He tried again. More silence. Soon, more ships started to approach from different angles. He frantically tried signalling them. Still nothing. He calmly called for Bob to come back up.
"Bob, I think our radio system might be down. I'm trying to hail these ships, but I'm getting nothing." "Whose ships are they? That could help us figure out where we are" Bob asked. Before Jimmy could even answer they were interrupted by the computer. "Alternate Location System is active. Based on the location of stars, we are at an 87% match with Darvos." Jimmy and Bob looked at each other. "Did that just say Darvos?", Bob asked. Jimmy replied, "Did that just say an 87% match?". Bob replied, "But if we are at Darvos, that means we made it to the end of the hyperlane. We are at our destination! Where *is* everything?" Jimmy just said again, "Only an 87% match? That just doesn't make sense." They were both interrupted again by the computer. "Alternate Location System, location determined. 100% Match. Location is Darvos. Year 42,739." Jimmy and Bob stared at each other with shocked faces. Bob said, "42,739. That is nearly 40,000 years in the future! Well that would explain why we don't see any signs of the Darvos that we know." Jimmy, looking at all of the ships that are now close enough to see into, said, "We have a bigger problem. I don't see any species that we know, either..."
---
My first time trying to write something. Obviously I need a lot of work, but the idea was in my head and I wanted to share it.
|
White. All White. All Black. All White. It was always like this. Maybe it wasn't. I don't know, do I know? What did I knew? Was I knewn? Known?
And real. Was I ever real? I'm laughing. There's someone staring at me. I stare back, full of ... being. Curious, I'm feeling curious. Curious, Curious, Ahahahah I'm curious again!
The Glypcik looked at the human that had emerged from the gate. A *human*, it was unimaginable, but there it was. The historical records from the times of the hyperlanes were spotty at best and nobody really believed that such a primitive race could have ever created something so amazingly powerful and so incredibly dangerous. In fact, they had been so dangerous that nobody had ever dared even try and decommission them, they were just left there to decay, if they had decayed that is. Because out of some freakish spasm of pure genius, the humans had created something that would seemingly last forever.
The hyperlanes were a terrifying testament to eternity, a thing that shouldn't be. Merely discussing the methods of traversing them or conducting inquiries into them was illegal. In fact, the Glypcik knew that just meeting this human was probably an offense that would carry a death sentence, but it had to just examine the portal, just to find out of the legends were true. And now it had gotten a lot more than it bargained for.
HaHA, it's so strange the way it's just staring at me. Hey you, *you* ^you **you!** Weird green thing, OH GREEN! I'd forgotten just how awesome colors were, COLORS ARE THE BEST! Oh and this noise, noise, beautiful noise, so amazing! Atchoo! I love sneezing too! Why aren't you answering me green thing? Where's everyone? And why are you looking at me and waving that stick around? **Are you inviting me for dinner?**
It stared at the human, weighing it's options, maybe it should just kill it and claim it found it drifting through space. Then it might become lead researcher of a new initiative that would demystify The Lanes once at for all. Yes, killing it would probably be for the best, what life could a human have in this galaxy anyway? It'd be the last of it's kind, it would be a small mercy. And.. it would be... tidy. It steeled itself and flicked the switch on the dematerializer.
Wow! WOW! Fantastic! So squishy! Mlem... my tongue feels weird. Ahaha, TONGUE, I CAN LICK IT ALL! I'm going to lick everything. But this purple stuff tastes weird. Weird weird. Strange, odd, different, unsual, remarkable, fantastic, amazing, captivating, mesmerizing, encompassing!
**HUNGER IS SO GOOD**
The convict stood up and wiped his mouth. Was there only one mouth? He wasn't really sure. But it was obvious he still remembered how to use his. Several millennia inside the gates eternal non-existent emptiness had done to his mind what the teams of psychologists and nurses and doctors had failed to do, it had set him free. In a flash, he'd realized with his unhinged mind that he was the last human in the galaxy and that there were untold numbers of new alien races that had lived for eons. He giggled to himself as the hole in his side closed up by itself, it wasn't just the gates that were eternal now.
Eat Eat Eat *EAT* **EAT** ^EAT! EAT!
Dinner was served.
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[WP] FTL travel is very expensive, so humanity creates a web of hyperlanes between systems, that speed up time inside them, making travel cheaper. You enter a malfunctioning hyperlane. When you leave it, you find a galaxy with no humans, full of alien races, that see your kind as ancient precursors.
|
Humans. Humans are the original super-beings. My people have spent countless lifetimes trying to reverse engineer the technology they used to traverse the vacuumed expanse. We have been successful in understanding their wormhole and FTL technology as of late, mainly due to a strange occurrence. Living humans have graced us with their presence.
It happend nine days ago. A bright flash of light emanated from a wormhole that we thought had been dormant for millennia. The ship that emerged, UNS Earth, was a transport ship built for the colonization of habitable worlds. My government immediately mobilized our entire military fleet, roughly ten thousand ships, and waited for contact.
Contact required the patience of both parties. The humans were obviously flustered. Once communications were established, we knew why. The humans were living relics, a single generation had outlived the entirety of the remainder of their species. They said this was due to a malfunction in one of the wormholes they built.
Three days ago, my government made a decision. They indicated that they would help the humans find the answers they seek. That was when I was summoned for command. I would be leading the collective of our species in the search. My people would provide vast resources, and the humans would provide unknown technologies. That was when I knew I had been naive.
My people waved us off today. Many said goodbye to their kin, some shrugged off the thought of another expedition. Working with the humans has elevated our society in a way that we were never going to achieve on our own. The humans have greatly accelerated our understanding of many things. One of the most important lessons so far is that my people are quite similar to the humans. I hope we can help our friends find what they are looking for.
|
White. All White. All Black. All White. It was always like this. Maybe it wasn't. I don't know, do I know? What did I knew? Was I knewn? Known?
And real. Was I ever real? I'm laughing. There's someone staring at me. I stare back, full of ... being. Curious, I'm feeling curious. Curious, Curious, Ahahahah I'm curious again!
The Glypcik looked at the human that had emerged from the gate. A *human*, it was unimaginable, but there it was. The historical records from the times of the hyperlanes were spotty at best and nobody really believed that such a primitive race could have ever created something so amazingly powerful and so incredibly dangerous. In fact, they had been so dangerous that nobody had ever dared even try and decommission them, they were just left there to decay, if they had decayed that is. Because out of some freakish spasm of pure genius, the humans had created something that would seemingly last forever.
The hyperlanes were a terrifying testament to eternity, a thing that shouldn't be. Merely discussing the methods of traversing them or conducting inquiries into them was illegal. In fact, the Glypcik knew that just meeting this human was probably an offense that would carry a death sentence, but it had to just examine the portal, just to find out of the legends were true. And now it had gotten a lot more than it bargained for.
HaHA, it's so strange the way it's just staring at me. Hey you, *you* ^you **you!** Weird green thing, OH GREEN! I'd forgotten just how awesome colors were, COLORS ARE THE BEST! Oh and this noise, noise, beautiful noise, so amazing! Atchoo! I love sneezing too! Why aren't you answering me green thing? Where's everyone? And why are you looking at me and waving that stick around? **Are you inviting me for dinner?**
It stared at the human, weighing it's options, maybe it should just kill it and claim it found it drifting through space. Then it might become lead researcher of a new initiative that would demystify The Lanes once at for all. Yes, killing it would probably be for the best, what life could a human have in this galaxy anyway? It'd be the last of it's kind, it would be a small mercy. And.. it would be... tidy. It steeled itself and flicked the switch on the dematerializer.
Wow! WOW! Fantastic! So squishy! Mlem... my tongue feels weird. Ahaha, TONGUE, I CAN LICK IT ALL! I'm going to lick everything. But this purple stuff tastes weird. Weird weird. Strange, odd, different, unsual, remarkable, fantastic, amazing, captivating, mesmerizing, encompassing!
**HUNGER IS SO GOOD**
The convict stood up and wiped his mouth. Was there only one mouth? He wasn't really sure. But it was obvious he still remembered how to use his. Several millennia inside the gates eternal non-existent emptiness had done to his mind what the teams of psychologists and nurses and doctors had failed to do, it had set him free. In a flash, he'd realized with his unhinged mind that he was the last human in the galaxy and that there were untold numbers of new alien races that had lived for eons. He giggled to himself as the hole in his side closed up by itself, it wasn't just the gates that were eternal now.
Eat Eat Eat *EAT* **EAT** ^EAT! EAT!
Dinner was served.
|
|
[WP] FTL travel is very expensive, so humanity creates a web of hyperlanes between systems, that speed up time inside them, making travel cheaper. You enter a malfunctioning hyperlane. When you leave it, you find a galaxy with no humans, full of alien races, that see your kind as ancient precursors.
|
Humans. Humans are the original super-beings. My people have spent countless lifetimes trying to reverse engineer the technology they used to traverse the vacuumed expanse. We have been successful in understanding their wormhole and FTL technology as of late, mainly due to a strange occurrence. Living humans have graced us with their presence.
It happend nine days ago. A bright flash of light emanated from a wormhole that we thought had been dormant for millennia. The ship that emerged, UNS Earth, was a transport ship built for the colonization of habitable worlds. My government immediately mobilized our entire military fleet, roughly ten thousand ships, and waited for contact.
Contact required the patience of both parties. The humans were obviously flustered. Once communications were established, we knew why. The humans were living relics, a single generation had outlived the entirety of the remainder of their species. They said this was due to a malfunction in one of the wormholes they built.
Three days ago, my government made a decision. They indicated that they would help the humans find the answers they seek. That was when I was summoned for command. I would be leading the collective of our species in the search. My people would provide vast resources, and the humans would provide unknown technologies. That was when I knew I had been naive.
My people waved us off today. Many said goodbye to their kin, some shrugged off the thought of another expedition. Working with the humans has elevated our society in a way that we were never going to achieve on our own. The humans have greatly accelerated our understanding of many things. One of the most important lessons so far is that my people are quite similar to the humans. I hope we can help our friends find what they are looking for.
|
First, they learned to fly. Then they took to the stars. They explored distant worlds from all over the dotted sky. In an endless void of darkness, they took the light. In their wake, they left seeds as relics for the eternal quest for meaning. And from those seeds, they brought life to the universe.
_______________________________
He strapped into the pod for another routine flight. With the expenses involved in getting planetside, it was rare that a lane was actually open to accommodate those who weren't glactocrats. That being said, the eggheads from up high came up with the ingenious idea of 'hyperlanes'. By bending space-time on itself (or something, he was thirty-five, and space-time physics had always eluded him), you could skip galaxies, thereby reducing the amount of distance you would have to travel even with FTL travel.
The catch was you sped up time while you were traveling. You'd leave for dinner at 5pm. Get there at 5pm, or what you would think was 5pm, and watch your loved ones finishing dessert and watching the end of that space opera you liked.
Still, it was the price you paid to get across fast. And if it was good enough for the galactic elite, it would be good enough for him.
The final flight checks completed, there was nothing to do but relax. And while he relaxed, and eventually dozed off, he failed to realize the flash of red from his console or the multiple fail-safes that failed to keep him safe.
And the pod launched into the night.
_______________________________
Those adventurers of the endless night grew civilization to untold lengths. Before long. the planets teemed with life of all kinds. But as their abilities grew, so did their ambitions. And when their ambitions grew, the galaxies were too small to contain it. They wanted something bigger.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
Author's note:
It's getting late. If you're interested in reading more of what I'm putting down, let me know and I'll continue!
|
|
[WP] FTL travel is very expensive, so humanity creates a web of hyperlanes between systems, that speed up time inside them, making travel cheaper. You enter a malfunctioning hyperlane. When you leave it, you find a galaxy with no humans, full of alien races, that see your kind as ancient precursors.
|
"Alright big brains, sit down and let this here cowboy science you something good. Hyperlanes, or what ya'll call the Old Gates, are stable bubbles of time fuckery. Now, I could go into the exact math involved, but ya'll wouldn't get a lick of it, so here's the gist of it.
Once inside the gate, you've entered into a time bubble in which space and time don't really work too good. For your entire trip, which is based on the time it would take if light was sped up a thousand fold, you are technically in both where you started and where you intend to go, at exactly the same time. This may seem confusing, and that's because it is, but know that the intervening distance is crossed by actually going back in time.
So, with that now known, can you imagine my damn frustration when the darn tootin' thing gave out on me while I was still in the bubble? The frangnastic ass of a gate simply stopped working because some damn big-brained alien HAD to mess around with it in the future, changing my darn arrival point to not only be all dang messed up, but in a time and place so far in the future, my processors nearly shit themselves trying to figure out the time of day! So here I now sit, talkin' to a bunch of gawkin slack jawed ninnys while they go through my cargo. *My* *Cargo.* like it was some sort of golden nugget they found spinning in space. I'm a damn hyperlane trucker, not some darn fancy science geek, and I've just about had it with all your questions!"
|
First, they learned to fly. Then they took to the stars. They explored distant worlds from all over the dotted sky. In an endless void of darkness, they took the light. In their wake, they left seeds as relics for the eternal quest for meaning. And from those seeds, they brought life to the universe.
_______________________________
He strapped into the pod for another routine flight. With the expenses involved in getting planetside, it was rare that a lane was actually open to accommodate those who weren't glactocrats. That being said, the eggheads from up high came up with the ingenious idea of 'hyperlanes'. By bending space-time on itself (or something, he was thirty-five, and space-time physics had always eluded him), you could skip galaxies, thereby reducing the amount of distance you would have to travel even with FTL travel.
The catch was you sped up time while you were traveling. You'd leave for dinner at 5pm. Get there at 5pm, or what you would think was 5pm, and watch your loved ones finishing dessert and watching the end of that space opera you liked.
Still, it was the price you paid to get across fast. And if it was good enough for the galactic elite, it would be good enough for him.
The final flight checks completed, there was nothing to do but relax. And while he relaxed, and eventually dozed off, he failed to realize the flash of red from his console or the multiple fail-safes that failed to keep him safe.
And the pod launched into the night.
_______________________________
Those adventurers of the endless night grew civilization to untold lengths. Before long. the planets teemed with life of all kinds. But as their abilities grew, so did their ambitions. And when their ambitions grew, the galaxies were too small to contain it. They wanted something bigger.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
Author's note:
It's getting late. If you're interested in reading more of what I'm putting down, let me know and I'll continue!
|
|
[WP] FTL travel is very expensive, so humanity creates a web of hyperlanes between systems, that speed up time inside them, making travel cheaper. You enter a malfunctioning hyperlane. When you leave it, you find a galaxy with no humans, full of alien races, that see your kind as ancient precursors.
|
*Emergence*
'Location unknown. Location unknown. Location unknown,' the traversal shuttle's intercom announced again and again in its warm, clipped tones as a warning light repeatedly bathed the cabin in crimson light.
Joi breathed out, closing her eyes and clenching her fists as she endured the last waves of traversal shock. The mindless iteration of evolution had never anticipated humanity would leave its cradle, let alone transmit itself nigh-instantaneously across the cosmos. Traversal, then, the means with which homo sapiens had made a laughing stock of the vastness of the void, was something the biological brain was singularly discomforted by.
Black, abyssal depths, condensed nebulae clouds and frozen suns hanging in a paralyzed cosmos were the sights available to anyone stupid enough to look out of a viewport mid-traversal. The visions of a creationist God, democratised all the way down to family tourism and long haul work commutes.
Joi opened her eyes for a brief moment, long enough to experience pure agony as the strobing light bloomed directly in front of her face. The security consultant snarled, punching out blindly with the armoured knuckles of her voidskin and being rewarded with the sharp *crack* of plastic.
'Passenger consciousness detected,' the capsule's voice intoned, 'please remain calm. Location is unknown. Manual input requested.' There was a faint click as a screen dropped into her vision, emerging seamlessly from the featureless black of the capsule's interior.
'I suppose I don't get a discount for teaching the capsule what a planet looks like?' Joi asked sarcastically, idly waving at the screen to activate it. Most corporate capsules were the same. Dumb. Drop out of traversal sideways and then ask the passenger what the destination should look like levels of dumb.
The screen blinked on, briefly displayed the skull and crossed missiles of some two bit shipping firm, then clicked into an endless cascade of flashing red astronomic errors. Dozens, then hundreds, then thousands. All pointing to one lunatic impossibility, laid out in stark characters before Joi's eyes.
The stars had moved.
Joi swallowed a searing, panicked breath and pushed her restraint-seat away from the glaring screen. The capsule's primary viewport was a small circle of hardened armourglass to her left, flickering with intermittent flashes of light from the void outside.
Her voidskin detected the adrenaline rush as she stared at the planet below and reacted automatically, sprouting an armoured double-layer of interlocking plates from its matte black surface. Joi scarcely noticed. Her face was locked in a crazed rictus, a slight twitch to her eyes, all blood fled to leave her utterly pale.
A thousand thousand unknown ships, bearing symbols in no human language, hanging in an inhuman sky.
(Fun little exercise, but I'm at work so I'll stop.)
|
First, they learned to fly. Then they took to the stars. They explored distant worlds from all over the dotted sky. In an endless void of darkness, they took the light. In their wake, they left seeds as relics for the eternal quest for meaning. And from those seeds, they brought life to the universe.
_______________________________
He strapped into the pod for another routine flight. With the expenses involved in getting planetside, it was rare that a lane was actually open to accommodate those who weren't glactocrats. That being said, the eggheads from up high came up with the ingenious idea of 'hyperlanes'. By bending space-time on itself (or something, he was thirty-five, and space-time physics had always eluded him), you could skip galaxies, thereby reducing the amount of distance you would have to travel even with FTL travel.
The catch was you sped up time while you were traveling. You'd leave for dinner at 5pm. Get there at 5pm, or what you would think was 5pm, and watch your loved ones finishing dessert and watching the end of that space opera you liked.
Still, it was the price you paid to get across fast. And if it was good enough for the galactic elite, it would be good enough for him.
The final flight checks completed, there was nothing to do but relax. And while he relaxed, and eventually dozed off, he failed to realize the flash of red from his console or the multiple fail-safes that failed to keep him safe.
And the pod launched into the night.
_______________________________
Those adventurers of the endless night grew civilization to untold lengths. Before long. the planets teemed with life of all kinds. But as their abilities grew, so did their ambitions. And when their ambitions grew, the galaxies were too small to contain it. They wanted something bigger.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
Author's note:
It's getting late. If you're interested in reading more of what I'm putting down, let me know and I'll continue!
|
|
[WP] FTL travel is very expensive, so humanity creates a web of hyperlanes between systems, that speed up time inside them, making travel cheaper. You enter a malfunctioning hyperlane. When you leave it, you find a galaxy with no humans, full of alien races, that see your kind as ancient precursors.
|
*Emergence*
'Location unknown. Location unknown. Location unknown,' the traversal shuttle's intercom announced again and again in its warm, clipped tones as a warning light repeatedly bathed the cabin in crimson light.
Joi breathed out, closing her eyes and clenching her fists as she endured the last waves of traversal shock. The mindless iteration of evolution had never anticipated humanity would leave its cradle, let alone transmit itself nigh-instantaneously across the cosmos. Traversal, then, the means with which homo sapiens had made a laughing stock of the vastness of the void, was something the biological brain was singularly discomforted by.
Black, abyssal depths, condensed nebulae clouds and frozen suns hanging in a paralyzed cosmos were the sights available to anyone stupid enough to look out of a viewport mid-traversal. The visions of a creationist God, democratised all the way down to family tourism and long haul work commutes.
Joi opened her eyes for a brief moment, long enough to experience pure agony as the strobing light bloomed directly in front of her face. The security consultant snarled, punching out blindly with the armoured knuckles of her voidskin and being rewarded with the sharp *crack* of plastic.
'Passenger consciousness detected,' the capsule's voice intoned, 'please remain calm. Location is unknown. Manual input requested.' There was a faint click as a screen dropped into her vision, emerging seamlessly from the featureless black of the capsule's interior.
'I suppose I don't get a discount for teaching the capsule what a planet looks like?' Joi asked sarcastically, idly waving at the screen to activate it. Most corporate capsules were the same. Dumb. Drop out of traversal sideways and then ask the passenger what the destination should look like levels of dumb.
The screen blinked on, briefly displayed the skull and crossed missiles of some two bit shipping firm, then clicked into an endless cascade of flashing red astronomic errors. Dozens, then hundreds, then thousands. All pointing to one lunatic impossibility, laid out in stark characters before Joi's eyes.
The stars had moved.
Joi swallowed a searing, panicked breath and pushed her restraint-seat away from the glaring screen. The capsule's primary viewport was a small circle of hardened armourglass to her left, flickering with intermittent flashes of light from the void outside.
Her voidskin detected the adrenaline rush as she stared at the planet below and reacted automatically, sprouting an armoured double-layer of interlocking plates from its matte black surface. Joi scarcely noticed. Her face was locked in a crazed rictus, a slight twitch to her eyes, all blood fled to leave her utterly pale.
A thousand thousand unknown ships, bearing symbols in no human language, hanging in an inhuman sky.
(Fun little exercise, but I'm at work so I'll stop.)
|
"Alright big brains, sit down and let this here cowboy science you something good. Hyperlanes, or what ya'll call the Old Gates, are stable bubbles of time fuckery. Now, I could go into the exact math involved, but ya'll wouldn't get a lick of it, so here's the gist of it.
Once inside the gate, you've entered into a time bubble in which space and time don't really work too good. For your entire trip, which is based on the time it would take if light was sped up a thousand fold, you are technically in both where you started and where you intend to go, at exactly the same time. This may seem confusing, and that's because it is, but know that the intervening distance is crossed by actually going back in time.
So, with that now known, can you imagine my damn frustration when the darn tootin' thing gave out on me while I was still in the bubble? The frangnastic ass of a gate simply stopped working because some damn big-brained alien HAD to mess around with it in the future, changing my darn arrival point to not only be all dang messed up, but in a time and place so far in the future, my processors nearly shit themselves trying to figure out the time of day! So here I now sit, talkin' to a bunch of gawkin slack jawed ninnys while they go through my cargo. *My* *Cargo.* like it was some sort of golden nugget they found spinning in space. I'm a damn hyperlane trucker, not some darn fancy science geek, and I've just about had it with all your questions!"
|
|
[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
|
A shiver crept up Zoe's spine as she turned around. Even though it was the voice of her dear companion she just heard, Zoe's hands instinctively reached for her sword. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
"And what do you mean by that?" she asked her companion cautiously.
Aaron didn't respond immediately but instead grinned a gleeful grin, the one a hunter might have when their prey is cornered. He stepped forward in slow, lithe paces toward Zoe. Without thinking, she sprang back out of his way, but Aaron simply continued forth into the dark, empty room. He was giggling now.
"Why, it seemed that your body already knows the answer to that, even if you don't," Aaron mused. He looked back at Zoe. "Even if you don't want to."
Of course she didn't. Zoe had found Aaron as an emaciated boy in a dungeon outside the Dark Lord's palace, but even then she saw the light of hope burn within him. After Zoe had rescued him, Aaron proved to be a noble and valiant soul, one worthy to join her quest to vanquish the Dark Lord. After all, it was he who found and freed the other captives of the palace dungeon. It was he who helped her slay the monstrous guards of this place. It was he who kept pushing Zoe forward in her quest whenever she felt weak. Everything he did...
"You didn't get me here to have me kill the Dark Lord, did you?" Zoe's voice was hard as steel. Aaron calmly met her hateful gaze.
"Indeed," he said plainly.
Zoe's blade flashed in the dim light as it was quickly unsheathed. "You just wanted me to be here all alone, didn't you?" she asked, her voice trembling with bottled anger.
"Correct," Aaron said, unmoved by Zoe's provocations.
"Then you must be the Dark Lord," Zoe growled, approaching her companion with brandished blade. "And my quest will be finished once I bury my sword in your skull!" With a piercing war cry, she broke into a charge, ready to slay this imposter.
"No and NO!" Aaron shouted, his soft voice booming so unnaturally that the floor and walls shuddered. Even Zoe halted in her charge. "Damn it, you don't really get it, do you?"
Zoe's earlier confusion subdued her rage, and though she still had her eyes fixed on him, she lowered her sword. "W-what do you mean? If you lured me here and did not mean for me to kill the Dark Lord, how are you not the Dark Lord?"
For the first time since she had met him, Aaron looked thoroughly peeved. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed. "For the hero of the realm with lightning reflexes in combat, you sure can be slow sometimes." Zoe almost let out her objection to this remark, but her companion quickly cut her off. "If I were truly the Dark Lord, why bring you all the way here? Why not just kill you in your sleep or slip some poison into your drink at any point before now?"
Zoe didn't answer. Even though Aaron had already begun to reveal his true colors, the thought of the Aaron from all that time before leaning over her bed with a dagger at night made her stomach turn. In the silence between them, Aaron's impatience grew.
"Obviously, if I was the Dark Lord, you would not be here. I would have not helped you slay my minions or led you to my inner sanctum. But," he said, throwing up his arms and gesturing to the room around them, "here we are.
"Then... where is the Dark Lord?"
"There is no Dark Lord," Aaron stated flatly.
Zoe froze for a moment. "That's... that's ridiculous! Who else would lead all the minions of darkness to terrorize the countryside over these past years?"
"True, there used to be a Dark Lord who resided within these walls, but there hasn't been one in some time." Aaron approached the throne on the other side of the room as he spoke, the sound of his boots hitting the floor echoing through the empty room. As he drew nearer to it, Zoe looked it over properly for the first time. Unlike all the other designs throughout the palace, which were eerily elegant with dark motifs of bats and gargoyles, this throne was almost a simple set of stone slabs fixed together. It seemed worn down by the ages, ancient. Far more ancient than anything she had ever seen.
There was but one other question to ask, though Zoe grew dreadfully afraid of asking it. Yet it must be known. "If there is no Dark Lord, then what are you?"
Once again, Aaron grinned. "Now there's what I've been waiting to hear." He had just stepped to the throne and reached out to touch it. "What if I told you that I brought you here as a test?"
Although still wary of his intentions, Zoe approached Aaron slowly. "You mean to test my worth again the monsters of the Dark Lord? I mean," she quickly corrected herself. "Of darkness."
Aaron bobbed his head side to side as he considered her words. "In a way, yes," he said finally. "Though I don't think you quite understand the reason for this test." He paused, waiting to see if Zoe had anything else to say, and then resumed with a smile. "You thought that if you could venture into the Dark Lord's domain and slay him along with his dark minions that this land would be rid of his dark taint, correct?"
"Well... yes," Zoe answered sheepishly. Isn't that how these sorts of quests go, after all?
Aaron laughed, and though not entirely without mirth, Zoe tensed. "Oh, you silly, brave girl... that is a deed fit only for fairy tales, as the real world is far less innocent. Tell me, do you remember the last time the Dark Lord was defeated by a hero such as yourself?"
"Far too long ago for any decent folk to remember," Zoe snapped, though she quickly grew embarrassed at how dumb she sounded.
"That's true, perhaps," Aaron chuckled, stroking the stone back of the throne. "Then again, I don't reckon I'd be counted amongst 'decent folk'. It was around 531 years ago when Brendan the Bold slew the last Dark Lord and returned to his countrymen a hero."
Zoe's face lit up at the sound of his name. "Of course! They tell all sorts of wonderful stories about his deeds. Why, it was his actions that inspired me to go on this quest in the first place." Her beaming smile was quickly deflated by Aaron's contemptuous gaze.
"Oh yes, what an inspiration he is," he said coldly. "Such a shame you couldn't see him for the coward he truly is."
The urge to draw her sword flashed in Zoe's mind. "How dare you slander Brendan the Bold so? What would you know about a true hero?"
"I know that your 'true hero' is nothing more than a frightened mouse because he is the reason why dark forces have plagued this land for nearly half a millennium. The very reason you needed to come here on your quest in the first place."
Zoe didn't know where to start. Naturally, this young man was just spouting nonsense to stall her, to keep her from killing him on the spot, and yet... there was something in how firmly he spoke that, much like with the words of a wise priest, she felt compelled to believe them. "How can you know this?" she finally asked.
"Because I was there. I had led him here to this room all those years ago, much like I had led you here," he replied solemnly.
These words sounded impossible, and yet Zoe still inexplicably listened to him. "What did you ask of him?" She feared what the answer might be, for whatever it was, it would surely also be asked of her. How could she answer something that Brendan the Bold of old could not?
"Simple," Aaron said, now looking to the throne. "To take this throne and become the Dark Lord."
The sword in Zoe's hand clattered on the floor, and she recoiled in horror. "Are you mad!? Do you really think that after all I've done, all I've bled for and sacrificed, that I would become what I wished to hunt??" Her heart pounded and screamed at her to flee from this place at once. Be done with this madness and go home.
"Have you not listened!?" Aaron shouted in return. "Have you not connected the dots? As soon as the Dark Lord falls, all the minions of darkness have none of command them and will gladly rampage through the country and bring terror with them! This is why this land has been under the grip of evil for so long! And yet, try as I might, I have yet to find a worthy successor to become the jailor of darkness for all these years - not until I found you."
A silence followed the last echo of his words. Although he was in a fury, Aaron looked at Zoe not with anger but pleading. Everything he had said now was dreadful to hear, yet in those eyes Zoe saw the pain of centuries of toil and the spark of hope she had seen in a frightened boy so very long ago.
With a heavy, uneasy voice, Zoe said, "This whole thing stinks something rotten, and you've already broken my trust once today, but... what would happen if I do sit on that throne?"
"You would become the Dark Lord and be granted long life, untold power and the command of all within this dark domain. You could use that power to ravage the world, or..." Aaron looked Zoe deep in the eye. "Perhaps you could keep the darkness contained."
Zoe stood still for a while, dumbstruck. This would be a terrible sacrifice, a fate she would not wish on herself or anyone else she loved. If she sat on that throne, humanity would look upon her with disgust and likely try to hunt her down as long as she lived. But perhaps this was just the price to be paid. If all those people could still live to think ill of her, that would be a good life for many. All for simply sitting on the throne.
Each footstep echoed uncomfortably loud. The stone seat in front of her looked more and more haunting the closer and closer she got. Her conscience was reeling at the very thought of what she was about to do, yet Zoe would bear any curse for her people. She would be their hero in the end.
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The Hero turned around. "What do you mean?" He was still scanning the room, looking for something, anything that might be a clue.
"It was an interesting journey," Sam said, sheathing his sword. "You're hilarious. Best one yet." He climbed up the stairs to the throne and dropped into it with a happy sigh. "Nothing better than coming home."
The blood drained out of the the Hero's face, leaving it paler than new snow. "Wh-wh-wh-what? What's going on, Sam?"
"Come on, you're clever. You can figure it out." Sam held out a hand, and a goblin appeared and put a crystal goblet of wine in it.
"This isn't possible," the Hero muttered. His sword fell out of his limp fingers and hit the floor with a ringing clang. "You passed the Trials with me!"
Sam waved his free hand, throwing his legs up over the arm of the throne. "Yes, well, those things are pretty easy to influence if you know what you're doing. Old magic, lots of loop holes, such and such." He took a deep drink of the wine, then held the goblet out. "Want some?"
The Hero didn't seem to see it. His eyes were wide, pupils dilated and unfocused. Trembling raced through his body, and his knees folded as he slumped to the ground. Sam frowned. "Hero?"
"After everything..... you... we..." his voice trailed off. Sam stood and walked over. He leaned down and touched the Hero's cheek with one hand. The Hero stared blankly, fine shivers racing over his skin. Not even a twitch. Sam sighed in defeat and straightened up.
"Steward!"
A black robed figure appeared in the archway, hands folded beneath long black sleeves. "Welcome back." The hooded head dropped slightly as the Steward studied the kneeling figure. "Did you break another one, my Lord?"
"And he showed such promise," Sam grumbled as he drained the goblet. "Put him in the dungeon with the others, and fetch me the classifieds. I need to place an ad. Oh, and another glass of wine!"
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[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
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"Finally. We can end this now." The hero, exhausted and wounded from the battles that had led them up to this point in their travels, started towards the ominous dark wood door that led to the throne room of his sworn enemy. The dark lord would no longer have his hold on the land. The hero had sworn it to be so when he agreed to take on the mantle of protector of the land. This would be it, the grand finale.
He muttered a prayer to the gods for strength as he shoved open the door, using his shoulder to aid his wounded right arm. He gripped his sword tightly and shouted into the room as he entered: "I have arrived! Prepare to--"
The hero stopped two steps into the narrow room. Curtains embroidered with the dark lord's snake and spear symbol swayed in the light breeze brought forth by the slim windows behind them. A thin piece of carpet led from the doorway up to the.. empty throne.
The hero turned to his companion, a slim man who held a staff in one hand, and a smallsword in the other. The hero's companion stared back, leaning against the large staff for support as he kept off his left leg that had suffered a stabbing injury during their attack into the palace.
The man looked past the hero, to the empty throne, then back to the hero. The battle weary man grinned at the hero faintly. "Well. I hate to ruin it, but the fun is over now."
The hero scowled, "What are you talking about?"
The slim man cackled a little. That laugh that the hero had always thought sounded like a madman's laugh... that laugh that seemed to appear when it shouldn't... That laugh...
The hero took a step back, further into the throne room. "No..." His eyes widened as the laugh echoed loudly into the room. The slim man's face twisted in amusement and glee. "No... Say it isn't so..."
"I could, but that would be a lie. I could never lie to you, good hero." The laugh was mocking the warrior now. "I could never hide something so big from a clever fellow such as yourself."
The hero's grip tightened on the hilt of the sword. His eyes narrowed. "Stop mocking me, you filth!" He spat on the floor, and the slim man silenced.
He looked unhappy, "Don't ruin my floors with your spit! I only want it to be painted with your blood!" The thin man's eyes widened as he made a lunge for the hero.
The hero staggered backwards, raising his sword to parry the strike from the traitor's smallsword. "The only blood... that will be spilled.. is yours!" The hero replied back, raising the volume of his voice in hopes to hide the tremor in his words.
They had traveled so long, so far, together on this journey. The hero's companion had been an oddball, but the hero was used to such peculiar characters roaming about the towns he had traveled through so many times before. Peculiar personalities made travels less dull. Unexpected twists made it fun. This, however, was not fun; but at least it wasn't dull.
They fought, blade striking blade as the hero and his former colleague attempted to kill one another. The sun set, darkening the room. The air became cool as a chilling breeze rustled the banners. The fight continued onward, both exhausted but determined to end the other's life. A few of the dark lord's minions entered the room, lighting the torches scattered throughout the room, illuminating the battle between good and evil. They hesitated to intrude, to aid their master without being told to, so they eventually left after cheering him on.
The night became late. The air became heavy. The good became weak. The evil became angered.
A strike from the smallsword cut into the hero's leg. He cried out, frustrated and in pain. This was not how it was supposed to go. Good was supposed to triumph over evil, always. It was something he had learned in his travels, something that was told through ancient legends of evils beaten by warriors of the light. This was not the ending he was promised. This was not the ending he had struggled to reach.
Fueled by the shed of blood, the dark lord let out a cackle and struck again and again, cutting into the banged up armor of the hero, slicing through faults and weak points. Skin succumbed to the blade and parted, dripping its contents over the marble flooring of the throne room.
The hero let out another cry as the smallsword kept finding a point to strike. He tried to defend himself, attempting to move away but only stumbling over tired feet. He fell backwards with a soft groan, staring up at the dark lord as the man smiled toothily down at him.
"Evil... never... wins..." the hero breathed out.
"I'll make sure they put that on your tombstone," the dark lord said before thrusting the blade one last time into the hero.
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The Hero turned around. "What do you mean?" He was still scanning the room, looking for something, anything that might be a clue.
"It was an interesting journey," Sam said, sheathing his sword. "You're hilarious. Best one yet." He climbed up the stairs to the throne and dropped into it with a happy sigh. "Nothing better than coming home."
The blood drained out of the the Hero's face, leaving it paler than new snow. "Wh-wh-wh-what? What's going on, Sam?"
"Come on, you're clever. You can figure it out." Sam held out a hand, and a goblin appeared and put a crystal goblet of wine in it.
"This isn't possible," the Hero muttered. His sword fell out of his limp fingers and hit the floor with a ringing clang. "You passed the Trials with me!"
Sam waved his free hand, throwing his legs up over the arm of the throne. "Yes, well, those things are pretty easy to influence if you know what you're doing. Old magic, lots of loop holes, such and such." He took a deep drink of the wine, then held the goblet out. "Want some?"
The Hero didn't seem to see it. His eyes were wide, pupils dilated and unfocused. Trembling raced through his body, and his knees folded as he slumped to the ground. Sam frowned. "Hero?"
"After everything..... you... we..." his voice trailed off. Sam stood and walked over. He leaned down and touched the Hero's cheek with one hand. The Hero stared blankly, fine shivers racing over his skin. Not even a twitch. Sam sighed in defeat and straightened up.
"Steward!"
A black robed figure appeared in the archway, hands folded beneath long black sleeves. "Welcome back." The hooded head dropped slightly as the Steward studied the kneeling figure. "Did you break another one, my Lord?"
"And he showed such promise," Sam grumbled as he drained the goblet. "Put him in the dungeon with the others, and fetch me the classifieds. I need to place an ad. Oh, and another glass of wine!"
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[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
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"Finally. We can end this now." The hero, exhausted and wounded from the battles that had led them up to this point in their travels, started towards the ominous dark wood door that led to the throne room of his sworn enemy. The dark lord would no longer have his hold on the land. The hero had sworn it to be so when he agreed to take on the mantle of protector of the land. This would be it, the grand finale.
He muttered a prayer to the gods for strength as he shoved open the door, using his shoulder to aid his wounded right arm. He gripped his sword tightly and shouted into the room as he entered: "I have arrived! Prepare to--"
The hero stopped two steps into the narrow room. Curtains embroidered with the dark lord's snake and spear symbol swayed in the light breeze brought forth by the slim windows behind them. A thin piece of carpet led from the doorway up to the.. empty throne.
The hero turned to his companion, a slim man who held a staff in one hand, and a smallsword in the other. The hero's companion stared back, leaning against the large staff for support as he kept off his left leg that had suffered a stabbing injury during their attack into the palace.
The man looked past the hero, to the empty throne, then back to the hero. The battle weary man grinned at the hero faintly. "Well. I hate to ruin it, but the fun is over now."
The hero scowled, "What are you talking about?"
The slim man cackled a little. That laugh that the hero had always thought sounded like a madman's laugh... that laugh that seemed to appear when it shouldn't... That laugh...
The hero took a step back, further into the throne room. "No..." His eyes widened as the laugh echoed loudly into the room. The slim man's face twisted in amusement and glee. "No... Say it isn't so..."
"I could, but that would be a lie. I could never lie to you, good hero." The laugh was mocking the warrior now. "I could never hide something so big from a clever fellow such as yourself."
The hero's grip tightened on the hilt of the sword. His eyes narrowed. "Stop mocking me, you filth!" He spat on the floor, and the slim man silenced.
He looked unhappy, "Don't ruin my floors with your spit! I only want it to be painted with your blood!" The thin man's eyes widened as he made a lunge for the hero.
The hero staggered backwards, raising his sword to parry the strike from the traitor's smallsword. "The only blood... that will be spilled.. is yours!" The hero replied back, raising the volume of his voice in hopes to hide the tremor in his words.
They had traveled so long, so far, together on this journey. The hero's companion had been an oddball, but the hero was used to such peculiar characters roaming about the towns he had traveled through so many times before. Peculiar personalities made travels less dull. Unexpected twists made it fun. This, however, was not fun; but at least it wasn't dull.
They fought, blade striking blade as the hero and his former colleague attempted to kill one another. The sun set, darkening the room. The air became cool as a chilling breeze rustled the banners. The fight continued onward, both exhausted but determined to end the other's life. A few of the dark lord's minions entered the room, lighting the torches scattered throughout the room, illuminating the battle between good and evil. They hesitated to intrude, to aid their master without being told to, so they eventually left after cheering him on.
The night became late. The air became heavy. The good became weak. The evil became angered.
A strike from the smallsword cut into the hero's leg. He cried out, frustrated and in pain. This was not how it was supposed to go. Good was supposed to triumph over evil, always. It was something he had learned in his travels, something that was told through ancient legends of evils beaten by warriors of the light. This was not the ending he was promised. This was not the ending he had struggled to reach.
Fueled by the shed of blood, the dark lord let out a cackle and struck again and again, cutting into the banged up armor of the hero, slicing through faults and weak points. Skin succumbed to the blade and parted, dripping its contents over the marble flooring of the throne room.
The hero let out another cry as the smallsword kept finding a point to strike. He tried to defend himself, attempting to move away but only stumbling over tired feet. He fell backwards with a soft groan, staring up at the dark lord as the man smiled toothily down at him.
"Evil... never... wins..." the hero breathed out.
"I'll make sure they put that on your tombstone," the dark lord said before thrusting the blade one last time into the hero.
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A shiver crept up Zoe's spine as she turned around. Even though it was the voice of her dear companion she just heard, Zoe's hands instinctively reached for her sword. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
"And what do you mean by that?" she asked her companion cautiously.
Aaron didn't respond immediately but instead grinned a gleeful grin, the one a hunter might have when their prey is cornered. He stepped forward in slow, lithe paces toward Zoe. Without thinking, she sprang back out of his way, but Aaron simply continued forth into the dark, empty room. He was giggling now.
"Why, it seemed that your body already knows the answer to that, even if you don't," Aaron mused. He looked back at Zoe. "Even if you don't want to."
Of course she didn't. Zoe had found Aaron as an emaciated boy in a dungeon outside the Dark Lord's palace, but even then she saw the light of hope burn within him. After Zoe had rescued him, Aaron proved to be a noble and valiant soul, one worthy to join her quest to vanquish the Dark Lord. After all, it was he who found and freed the other captives of the palace dungeon. It was he who helped her slay the monstrous guards of this place. It was he who kept pushing Zoe forward in her quest whenever she felt weak. Everything he did...
"You didn't get me here to have me kill the Dark Lord, did you?" Zoe's voice was hard as steel. Aaron calmly met her hateful gaze.
"Indeed," he said plainly.
Zoe's blade flashed in the dim light as it was quickly unsheathed. "You just wanted me to be here all alone, didn't you?" she asked, her voice trembling with bottled anger.
"Correct," Aaron said, unmoved by Zoe's provocations.
"Then you must be the Dark Lord," Zoe growled, approaching her companion with brandished blade. "And my quest will be finished once I bury my sword in your skull!" With a piercing war cry, she broke into a charge, ready to slay this imposter.
"No and NO!" Aaron shouted, his soft voice booming so unnaturally that the floor and walls shuddered. Even Zoe halted in her charge. "Damn it, you don't really get it, do you?"
Zoe's earlier confusion subdued her rage, and though she still had her eyes fixed on him, she lowered her sword. "W-what do you mean? If you lured me here and did not mean for me to kill the Dark Lord, how are you not the Dark Lord?"
For the first time since she had met him, Aaron looked thoroughly peeved. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed. "For the hero of the realm with lightning reflexes in combat, you sure can be slow sometimes." Zoe almost let out her objection to this remark, but her companion quickly cut her off. "If I were truly the Dark Lord, why bring you all the way here? Why not just kill you in your sleep or slip some poison into your drink at any point before now?"
Zoe didn't answer. Even though Aaron had already begun to reveal his true colors, the thought of the Aaron from all that time before leaning over her bed with a dagger at night made her stomach turn. In the silence between them, Aaron's impatience grew.
"Obviously, if I was the Dark Lord, you would not be here. I would have not helped you slay my minions or led you to my inner sanctum. But," he said, throwing up his arms and gesturing to the room around them, "here we are.
"Then... where is the Dark Lord?"
"There is no Dark Lord," Aaron stated flatly.
Zoe froze for a moment. "That's... that's ridiculous! Who else would lead all the minions of darkness to terrorize the countryside over these past years?"
"True, there used to be a Dark Lord who resided within these walls, but there hasn't been one in some time." Aaron approached the throne on the other side of the room as he spoke, the sound of his boots hitting the floor echoing through the empty room. As he drew nearer to it, Zoe looked it over properly for the first time. Unlike all the other designs throughout the palace, which were eerily elegant with dark motifs of bats and gargoyles, this throne was almost a simple set of stone slabs fixed together. It seemed worn down by the ages, ancient. Far more ancient than anything she had ever seen.
There was but one other question to ask, though Zoe grew dreadfully afraid of asking it. Yet it must be known. "If there is no Dark Lord, then what are you?"
Once again, Aaron grinned. "Now there's what I've been waiting to hear." He had just stepped to the throne and reached out to touch it. "What if I told you that I brought you here as a test?"
Although still wary of his intentions, Zoe approached Aaron slowly. "You mean to test my worth again the monsters of the Dark Lord? I mean," she quickly corrected herself. "Of darkness."
Aaron bobbed his head side to side as he considered her words. "In a way, yes," he said finally. "Though I don't think you quite understand the reason for this test." He paused, waiting to see if Zoe had anything else to say, and then resumed with a smile. "You thought that if you could venture into the Dark Lord's domain and slay him along with his dark minions that this land would be rid of his dark taint, correct?"
"Well... yes," Zoe answered sheepishly. Isn't that how these sorts of quests go, after all?
Aaron laughed, and though not entirely without mirth, Zoe tensed. "Oh, you silly, brave girl... that is a deed fit only for fairy tales, as the real world is far less innocent. Tell me, do you remember the last time the Dark Lord was defeated by a hero such as yourself?"
"Far too long ago for any decent folk to remember," Zoe snapped, though she quickly grew embarrassed at how dumb she sounded.
"That's true, perhaps," Aaron chuckled, stroking the stone back of the throne. "Then again, I don't reckon I'd be counted amongst 'decent folk'. It was around 531 years ago when Brendan the Bold slew the last Dark Lord and returned to his countrymen a hero."
Zoe's face lit up at the sound of his name. "Of course! They tell all sorts of wonderful stories about his deeds. Why, it was his actions that inspired me to go on this quest in the first place." Her beaming smile was quickly deflated by Aaron's contemptuous gaze.
"Oh yes, what an inspiration he is," he said coldly. "Such a shame you couldn't see him for the coward he truly is."
The urge to draw her sword flashed in Zoe's mind. "How dare you slander Brendan the Bold so? What would you know about a true hero?"
"I know that your 'true hero' is nothing more than a frightened mouse because he is the reason why dark forces have plagued this land for nearly half a millennium. The very reason you needed to come here on your quest in the first place."
Zoe didn't know where to start. Naturally, this young man was just spouting nonsense to stall her, to keep her from killing him on the spot, and yet... there was something in how firmly he spoke that, much like with the words of a wise priest, she felt compelled to believe them. "How can you know this?" she finally asked.
"Because I was there. I had led him here to this room all those years ago, much like I had led you here," he replied solemnly.
These words sounded impossible, and yet Zoe still inexplicably listened to him. "What did you ask of him?" She feared what the answer might be, for whatever it was, it would surely also be asked of her. How could she answer something that Brendan the Bold of old could not?
"Simple," Aaron said, now looking to the throne. "To take this throne and become the Dark Lord."
The sword in Zoe's hand clattered on the floor, and she recoiled in horror. "Are you mad!? Do you really think that after all I've done, all I've bled for and sacrificed, that I would become what I wished to hunt??" Her heart pounded and screamed at her to flee from this place at once. Be done with this madness and go home.
"Have you not listened!?" Aaron shouted in return. "Have you not connected the dots? As soon as the Dark Lord falls, all the minions of darkness have none of command them and will gladly rampage through the country and bring terror with them! This is why this land has been under the grip of evil for so long! And yet, try as I might, I have yet to find a worthy successor to become the jailor of darkness for all these years - not until I found you."
A silence followed the last echo of his words. Although he was in a fury, Aaron looked at Zoe not with anger but pleading. Everything he had said now was dreadful to hear, yet in those eyes Zoe saw the pain of centuries of toil and the spark of hope she had seen in a frightened boy so very long ago.
With a heavy, uneasy voice, Zoe said, "This whole thing stinks something rotten, and you've already broken my trust once today, but... what would happen if I do sit on that throne?"
"You would become the Dark Lord and be granted long life, untold power and the command of all within this dark domain. You could use that power to ravage the world, or..." Aaron looked Zoe deep in the eye. "Perhaps you could keep the darkness contained."
Zoe stood still for a while, dumbstruck. This would be a terrible sacrifice, a fate she would not wish on herself or anyone else she loved. If she sat on that throne, humanity would look upon her with disgust and likely try to hunt her down as long as she lived. But perhaps this was just the price to be paid. If all those people could still live to think ill of her, that would be a good life for many. All for simply sitting on the throne.
Each footstep echoed uncomfortably loud. The stone seat in front of her looked more and more haunting the closer and closer she got. Her conscience was reeling at the very thought of what she was about to do, yet Zoe would bear any curse for her people. She would be their hero in the end.
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[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
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I looked down at the tip of the blade now protruding from my chest. The armour Azrael had crafted for me had provided no real resistance, simply melting aside as the Shadow Steel corrupted its way through.
There was no pain, not really. There was plenty of blood, Gods knew that. I hadn't even properly registered the blow. I thought Azrael had given me a friendly slap on the back and suddenly, there it was, the cruel point refusing to gleam in the torch light.
I could taste iron and knew that I was starting to slowly drown in my own blood.
*Two minutes* I thought to myself. *Maybe less*
"You were doing so well too" Azrael purred from behind me. Her usually quite, reserved demeanour evaporating into gleeful hostility.
*Why?* I thought, *We've been together for over a year. We've fought, laughed, cried, shared victory and defeat. How did I fail you?*
Only a gurgling sound escaped my throat but she somehow sensed my thoughts. She leant in closer to whisper in my ear.
"Because I could and because it was fun. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone about *that night* at the Watchtower..."
I summoned what remaining strength I had and slammed the pommel of my hand-and-a-half sword into Azrael's face, delighting in the squeal of pain she let slip. Reversing my grip with a fluid, practice roll of the wrist, I brought the blade round at neck height.
I had paid a heavy price for the God of the Forge to temper this weapon. I had seen it slice clear through tree trunks, solid stone and even a rather surprised Mountain Troll. This time however, it only managed to cleave the air.
She was gone.
I slumped to my knees, expecting the cold embrace of Death as I bled out, only to notice that the Shadow blade was still there, delaying the inevitable. I swore to myself as I dropped my sword, unsteady fingers unable to maintain a grip.
A faint laughter hovered around the perimeter of the throne room, flitting from fluted column to column, never venturing out of the shadows.
I knew this trick. I was down, unarmed and unable to put up any kind of fight. Azrael would circle slowly, keeping to cover, then strike from behind.
Just like I had taught her.
She was to my side now. Only a few seconds left. Probably just as long until I could no longer breath anyway. Each inhalation was taking more and more effort with less and less payoff.
I reached down to my belt and closed my numb fingers around the grip of my mini-crossbow.
*At least, I hope that's my crossbow* I thought. *It would be super embarrassing if I die trying to kill a Necromancer with a bottle of water*
There was a soft sigh from the shadows over my shoulder. She was in position. It was now or never. Time to take a gamble and *Aqua Minerales* be damned.
In one move, I fell forwards and rolled onto my side, sweeping the bow up and around. I didn't even look as I squeezed the trigger.
The recoil knocked the bow from my hand and I fell onto my back just as I heard the satisfying *thunk* of the bolt hitting flesh.
Azrael's body hit the floor to one side of me, the bolt embedded in the bleeding ruin that used to be her eye. Those sad, brown eyes...
With a final gasp, I took my last breath and slipped into the darkness.
I have no idea how long I laid there, it felt like an eternity passed in a stale heartbeat. When I opened my eyes, I was still laid on the cold stone of the throne room floor, looking up at the dark-shrouded rafters. Azrael was stood over me, pulling the crossbow bolt out of her face with a sickening pop.
"Necromancer, moron" she laughed. "The clue is in the name. Welcome to the Legion of the Damned"
|
Hugo and Kai walked through the giant stone doors, unsure what to expect. Their small lantern stretched the two men’s shadows across the walls, as their footsteps anxiously crept along. Eventually they reached small steps, leading to the throne that carries the Dark King.
It was empty.
The corner of Kai’s eye caught the snarl creeping up his face before the words began leaving his mouth. The beads of sweat marinating Kai’s skin leapt as he exhaled from the sudden realization.
“Well...” he could smell the dried bread they ate together, hours before, retreating from his mouth.
“...this has been DELIGHTFUL!..” He heard Hugo’s blade slowly ride across the holster. Kai tried to reach for his own, but it was like moving through water.
Hugo’s sword pinched the skin of Kai’s neck, claiming a small stream of blood.
“...but I’m afraid the fun, is now over.”
They were face to face, their breath echoing off the walls. How did he not spot the side effects? The slime was dripping off Hugo’s skin, his lips tattered, and his bright red iris...it was so apparent to him now. Has the Dark King found a way to cloak the disease? How else would he not notice the slow and painful transition of becoming what now stands in front of him. Hugo...
“Give me the stone” His lips were in a constant grin, and ripped to shreds like the leftovers from an animal.
Doesn’t matter now. He needed to get out of there. Fighting a thing this far advanced is too risky to do it alone.
“Now! Before I paint the walls crimson! Here, we can do it together!” He menacingly laughed.
“On the count of three! One...” He had no other choice, he had to get to the stone.
“Two....” His sword pushed aggressively forward, collecting more blood.
“Three!”
Kai’s eyes darted to the ceiling.
And surprisingly, Hugo’s did too.
In a stretched second, Kai shot his hand to the ever shrinking stone on his neck, and he was gone.
|
|
[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
|
I don't know where exactly I picked up the axe... it would do, though; good steel, good haft, light, agile, sharp. I shook blood from the blade, remembered to pant, as if tired.
Time to do this.
I looked around me.
Fiona was loading short spikes into the drum of that funny springwork bow. She'd lost that steel half-helm, and her hair was caked with blood. Three rebel soldiers had made it this far, two heavy infantry in plate with pikestaves, and a musketeer. I searched my mind for names and came up blank. No matter.
And Voss of course.
Keep as many out of the room as possible. I took a breath before speaking.
"All right, I'm pretty sure he's in there. Voss, on me. You men hold the stairs. Fee, cover the window."
"What? Gabriel, I'm coming with you. You can't be serious. That's a *master vampire* in there. Even if he's alone, he'll - "
"Fee, I don't have time to argue. That's an order."
"Dammit, Gabriel, I won - "
I had to make this fast. "NOW, Captain Albrecht!"
She snapped to attention and saluted. Not an officer's salute. Right fist to left shoulder, like a private. I was going to hear about this later. But what else could I do? I glanced at Voss, inclined my head, and the door to the private audience chamber of Emperor Lucien the Bloodless slammed open under the impact of four hundred pounds of heavily armoured Ork.
The throne was empty, of course. I'd stashed the Ember Crown in a box behind it, along with some burnt scraps of rich clothing and the white and very convincing ashes of a fledgling I had slain with fire, then exposed to the sun for a full day.
I piled in behind Voss, kicking the door shut behind me. Now, I'd only have a few moments. I took another breath as I slipped up behind the giant form, stilled for a moment by puzzlement.
"Well, " I said as I struck him over the head with the haft of the axe, "this has been delightful, but I'm afraid that the ... "
I stopped. I hadn't been the only voice speaking.
"... fun is now over? Or something like that?" asked a girlish voice from behind me.
Too late, my ears informed me there was *still a heartbeat in the room*. Damn. I'd have to...
Damn it all.
I turned around and looked into Fiona Albrecht's green and very angry eyes. I didn't sigh. I didn't bother breathing. The only sound was the unconscious body of Voss, my selfless, loyal friend, slumping to the floor.
"How long have you known?"
"Since Temsford."
Crap. I knew I shouldn't have...
"When we - "
"Yeah, when *we*. When you fell asleep, after, you stopped breathing."
"We don't really sleep. Sort of a trance state. Let me guess. You checked for a heartbeat."
"I thought you were dead! I was so... and then you woke up and asked me what was wrong. And needed two tries, because you forgot to breathe first."
"Oh, you noticed that? Look, Fee - "
"DON'T CALL ME THAT! You set us all up! You were HIM all along! You're Lucien the Bloodless."
"Yes, at your service. Look, there's a reason for all of - "
"WHY? Gods damn it, I actually... I... " She swiped ineffectually at her eyes with a dirty sleeve, and only succeeded in mixing the tears with blood.
"You played along anyway. You knew, and you waited."
"I had to know why!"
"Because it was time for a change. Lucien was good for conquering most of the continent, but I needed a different sort of ruler to bring about reforms once I had control. I have to switch every 50 years or so, otherwise people start to notice."
"Wait. Before you were Lucien the Bloodless, you - "
"Julius the Tenth, yes. And the Ninth before that. Being openly a vampire was a nice change of pace. I've been every emperor for the past thousand years or so, Fiona. I have plans, you see, and I need different characters to enact them, so -"
And that was when she shot me. No hesitation at all. Just right up from the hip, and interrupted my monologue with a springbow bolt through my left eye. Must've been a lucky shot. She's good, but no one is that good.
"Ow! Damn it Fee, that hurts! Plated in sliver?" I bent and wrenched it out, involuntarily snarling with pain. It would be a few minutes before my vision returned. As I straightened up, another one hit me in the chest.
"Yes, silver, now die, you -"
"Stop it, Fee, that's just annoying. The silver thing... I spread that rumor myself. Should have used tropical hardwood. *Lignum vitae* or some such. I really wish you hadn't followed me in - "
... moving in a blur as I spoke, not going to make that mistake twice ...
" because I didn't want to hurt you if didn't have to. "
... crumpling the steel springbow in my hands...
" But now I have to keep you quiet, you and Voss both. You really loved Gabriel, didn't you?"
She stood motionless, eyes screwed tightly shut. A deer frozen by the lion's approach. She nodded. Barely.
"For that, I am sorry."
I killed her quickly, with as little pain as I could. Set her gently beside the uneasy slumber of Voss. And then, because perhaps I really was something of Gabriel, I did... something else.
When she woke up, she was even more furious. But also very, very hungry.
Perhaps in a few centuries, she will forgive me. Perhaps not.
|
Hugo and Kai walked through the giant stone doors, unsure what to expect. Their small lantern stretched the two men’s shadows across the walls, as their footsteps anxiously crept along. Eventually they reached small steps, leading to the throne that carries the Dark King.
It was empty.
The corner of Kai’s eye caught the snarl creeping up his face before the words began leaving his mouth. The beads of sweat marinating Kai’s skin leapt as he exhaled from the sudden realization.
“Well...” he could smell the dried bread they ate together, hours before, retreating from his mouth.
“...this has been DELIGHTFUL!..” He heard Hugo’s blade slowly ride across the holster. Kai tried to reach for his own, but it was like moving through water.
Hugo’s sword pinched the skin of Kai’s neck, claiming a small stream of blood.
“...but I’m afraid the fun, is now over.”
They were face to face, their breath echoing off the walls. How did he not spot the side effects? The slime was dripping off Hugo’s skin, his lips tattered, and his bright red iris...it was so apparent to him now. Has the Dark King found a way to cloak the disease? How else would he not notice the slow and painful transition of becoming what now stands in front of him. Hugo...
“Give me the stone” His lips were in a constant grin, and ripped to shreds like the leftovers from an animal.
Doesn’t matter now. He needed to get out of there. Fighting a thing this far advanced is too risky to do it alone.
“Now! Before I paint the walls crimson! Here, we can do it together!” He menacingly laughed.
“On the count of three! One...” He had no other choice, he had to get to the stone.
“Two....” His sword pushed aggressively forward, collecting more blood.
“Three!”
Kai’s eyes darted to the ceiling.
And surprisingly, Hugo’s did too.
In a stretched second, Kai shot his hand to the ever shrinking stone on his neck, and he was gone.
|
|
[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
|
The Hero hesitated. *No. This cannot be. This is one of his usual jokes, right?* He thought to himself.
"Ha ha. Very funny." The Hero raised a finger, wagging it at his friend. "You won't get me this time. You saw the throne empty and saw the opportunity to..." His voice trailed off as he watched his friend. Something was off. His friend had a look in his eyes he had never seen before.
His friend, with a smug grin that never wavered, strutted ahead, placing himself between the Hero and the throne. He glanced down momentarily, then back up at the Hero with a look of pure amusement.
"I'm afraid you misunderstand. My best prophets warned me of a hero, that, should I lazily sit by and command my hordes to kill, would in turn kill me. Apparently my minions would only serve as a stone wheel, sharpening your blade."
The Hero's hand rushed to his blade. His companion, ignored the gesture.
"So... I figured. Why not walk the same path, and grow stronger to meet him? Manipulate him into being my friend. Grow alongside him by striking down my own generals. Yada yada yada."
"You bastard!" The Hero lunched forward, ready to strike his so-called friend. With a loud clang, the Dark Lord's own blade struck the Hero's. With a slight shove from the Dark Lord's blade, the Hero stumbled a few steps back.
The Dark Lord turned to sit in his dusty throne. One hand dragging his sword on the ground, the other dismissively wagging his finger, as if admonishing a child.
"Tsk. Tsk. Let a man finish. My plan was flawless. Or so I thought. You see. What I failed to consider in my plan is..." He threw his sword off to the side. A loud clang resonated as it hit the floor.
"Actually becoming your friend."
"W..what?" The Hero's body went loose, his arms falling to his side. Confusion washed over his face. "What do you..."
"It's up to you now. My armies are dead, all my land and glory mere dust. What's more, I have no desire to end your life. So I leave it to you. End the curse I started. Free your people by finishing what we set out to do. I will not resist."
Teardrops fell hitting the floor. The Hero had no desire to kill the Dark Lord either. Dejected, he screamed out in pain. As he too was about to throw his sword, the Dark Lord startled him with a booming voice.
"No! Do not doom your family, your land by surrendering now. You know as well as I do, that the only way to end the curse is to end me. Do it. I beg you."
The Hero looked up to see the face of the Dark Lord also awash with tears. He nodded. The Dark Lord was right. Silently, we walked up to his friend. Closing his eyes, he lifted his blade and ran the Dark Lord through. What composure he had was lost. He collapsed on the Dark Lord, tears overflowing.
"Thank....you....Truely...it was...fun."
|
Hugo and Kai walked through the giant stone doors, unsure what to expect. Their small lantern stretched the two men’s shadows across the walls, as their footsteps anxiously crept along. Eventually they reached small steps, leading to the throne that carries the Dark King.
It was empty.
The corner of Kai’s eye caught the snarl creeping up his face before the words began leaving his mouth. The beads of sweat marinating Kai’s skin leapt as he exhaled from the sudden realization.
“Well...” he could smell the dried bread they ate together, hours before, retreating from his mouth.
“...this has been DELIGHTFUL!..” He heard Hugo’s blade slowly ride across the holster. Kai tried to reach for his own, but it was like moving through water.
Hugo’s sword pinched the skin of Kai’s neck, claiming a small stream of blood.
“...but I’m afraid the fun, is now over.”
They were face to face, their breath echoing off the walls. How did he not spot the side effects? The slime was dripping off Hugo’s skin, his lips tattered, and his bright red iris...it was so apparent to him now. Has the Dark King found a way to cloak the disease? How else would he not notice the slow and painful transition of becoming what now stands in front of him. Hugo...
“Give me the stone” His lips were in a constant grin, and ripped to shreds like the leftovers from an animal.
Doesn’t matter now. He needed to get out of there. Fighting a thing this far advanced is too risky to do it alone.
“Now! Before I paint the walls crimson! Here, we can do it together!” He menacingly laughed.
“On the count of three! One...” He had no other choice, he had to get to the stone.
“Two....” His sword pushed aggressively forward, collecting more blood.
“Three!”
Kai’s eyes darted to the ceiling.
And surprisingly, Hugo’s did too.
In a stretched second, Kai shot his hand to the ever shrinking stone on his neck, and he was gone.
|
|
[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
|
The both of us enter the throne room of the Dark Lord. As we gaze upon the empty throne, my companion says with a grin,
"Well... this has been delightful, milady. But I'm afraid the fun is now over."
“Yes... I suppose it is.”
I give him a nonchalant reply.
All these past few months we’ve traveled... From one town to the next, one dungeon to the next, all for ridding this world of the demonic scourge. It’s been difficult, that’s for sure. The quality of life is poor, away from the decent food and luxuries of my home town...
But you know what? I enjoyed every second of it. This little journey has been the first and only time I felt alive.
It hasn’t even been that long since I’ve come to know this boy, but he’s proven to be the single most trustworthy companion.
And here we are, at the end of it all... After the deed is done, I’ll most likely return to—
“Um... milady? That’s not what I meant...“
“Then what was it— Wait... you’re talking as if you’ve read my mind, boy... Are you hiding something from me?”
“It’s about the Creator, you see... He’s the type to write endings first, but this time, the ending hasn’t even been finalized yet... Or the final enemy, for that matter...”
“So you’re saying that this is it for now? No Dark Lord? No climactic battle? No fancy banquets?”
“Yes, that was what I meant to say.”
“And he’s publishing this? Unbelievable...”
“Indeed it is...”
|
Hugo and Kai walked through the giant stone doors, unsure what to expect. Their small lantern stretched the two men’s shadows across the walls, as their footsteps anxiously crept along. Eventually they reached small steps, leading to the throne that carries the Dark King.
It was empty.
The corner of Kai’s eye caught the snarl creeping up his face before the words began leaving his mouth. The beads of sweat marinating Kai’s skin leapt as he exhaled from the sudden realization.
“Well...” he could smell the dried bread they ate together, hours before, retreating from his mouth.
“...this has been DELIGHTFUL!..” He heard Hugo’s blade slowly ride across the holster. Kai tried to reach for his own, but it was like moving through water.
Hugo’s sword pinched the skin of Kai’s neck, claiming a small stream of blood.
“...but I’m afraid the fun, is now over.”
They were face to face, their breath echoing off the walls. How did he not spot the side effects? The slime was dripping off Hugo’s skin, his lips tattered, and his bright red iris...it was so apparent to him now. Has the Dark King found a way to cloak the disease? How else would he not notice the slow and painful transition of becoming what now stands in front of him. Hugo...
“Give me the stone” His lips were in a constant grin, and ripped to shreds like the leftovers from an animal.
Doesn’t matter now. He needed to get out of there. Fighting a thing this far advanced is too risky to do it alone.
“Now! Before I paint the walls crimson! Here, we can do it together!” He menacingly laughed.
“On the count of three! One...” He had no other choice, he had to get to the stone.
“Two....” His sword pushed aggressively forward, collecting more blood.
“Three!”
Kai’s eyes darted to the ceiling.
And surprisingly, Hugo’s did too.
In a stretched second, Kai shot his hand to the ever shrinking stone on his neck, and he was gone.
|
|
[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
|
As the hero enters the throne room of the Dark Lord, he finds the throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin, "Well, this has been delightful, but I'm afraid the fun is now over."
 
Adjusting his chat headset, Hudson sighed. “Dude, we’re so close. Can’t you stay on just another hour?”
    Tane shook his head, forgetting Hudson was miles away behind a computer screen and not right beside him. “Sorry, I really can’t. I’ve been putting off Finley for three days, and I’m finally taking her out tonight. She’ll lose it if I’m not ready by four.”
    “What?” Hudson yelped. “It’s just now nine in the morning!”
    “Hudson,” Tane said. “There’s a six-hour time difference between us, remember?”
    “Oh,” Hudson sighed. After a moment, he huffed, “Man, you’re really whipped.”
    “Nah, I’m just in *love*,” Tane teased, drawing it out. Hudson scoffed.
    “Shut up.” Hudson refocused his attention on the game and directed his armor-clad hero further into the throne room. “Come on, seriously. I want to find this bastard Dark Lord guy and see what he drops.”
    “It’s not even that good. My cousin played and- “
    “Shut up!” Hudson repeated. “Don’t ruin this for me.”
 
Tane glanced at the clock. He promised his girlfriend a fancy dinner date tonight, and he promised himself that he’d take a break from the addicting world of *Tremania* to spend time with real people instead of 3D orcs and warlocks. He knew Hudson, however, would spend all day immersed in the game. He’d never get out of his chair unless it was absolutely necessary, and even then, he’d often carry his laptop with him and continue playing. Tane was far less obsessed than Hudson was, but he could see how quickly the addiction could form.
 
     *Tremania* let you be anything you wanted, and Hudson transformed from a sick, cancer-weakened ex-football player to a mighty warrior with plenty of friends, plenty of fame, and plenty of fortune. He spent all his time immersed in the virtual world as the rest of his life slowly withered away.
Tane, who played a fierce mage character, used *Tremania* as a stress-relieving outlet. Between college, a serious girlfriend, a developing career, and an adventurous social life, Tane hardly had any time for himself. When he finally took a break, he explored dungeons and conquered hordes of monsters armed with only a mouse and a keyboard. He enjoyed his life, but he worried about Hudson.
 
    “Hey, Huds?” Tane spoke gently into his mic.
    “Yeah?” Hudson’s face was screwed up in concentration as he frantically searched for any clues to the level boss’s location.
    “How are you doing? Really.”
 
    Hudson stopped. His hands, cold from the lack of movement, stalled on his laptop’s keyboard. He looked over the oxygen tank sitting next to him, the dozens of little orange bottles that littered his desk, and the looseness of his tshirt that wasn’t there two months ago.
    “I’m better than ever, bro. Better than ever.” Hudson clicked a few more times and then a message popped up on the screen. “Got it!” He shouted. “Let’s go!”
 
    Tane’s phone buzzed. Without looking, he knew it was Finley asking if he was ready. “I can’t,” he said, moving his cursor to the red “Log Out” bar. “I’m really sorry. I’ll log back on tonight and we can do a couple dungeon raids, okay?”
    “Fine,” Hudson mumbled, already preoccupied with the boss battle. “See you then.”
 
Tane took off his headset and tossed it on his bed. With a click of his mouse, the throne room disappeared. He closed the laptop, and once again he was Tane Williams, not a fearless battlemage. Real life was waiting for him, full of just as much – if not more – excitement and opportunity as the game.
 
    For Hudson, beyond the game there was nothing but beeping machines and tiny pills, empty stomachs and patchy hair loss. It was a refuge where he could be the hero, instead of waiting for someone to save him. At least in *Tremania*, Hudson Brant could have a happy ending.
|
Hugo and Kai walked through the giant stone doors, unsure what to expect. Their small lantern stretched the two men’s shadows across the walls, as their footsteps anxiously crept along. Eventually they reached small steps, leading to the throne that carries the Dark King.
It was empty.
The corner of Kai’s eye caught the snarl creeping up his face before the words began leaving his mouth. The beads of sweat marinating Kai’s skin leapt as he exhaled from the sudden realization.
“Well...” he could smell the dried bread they ate together, hours before, retreating from his mouth.
“...this has been DELIGHTFUL!..” He heard Hugo’s blade slowly ride across the holster. Kai tried to reach for his own, but it was like moving through water.
Hugo’s sword pinched the skin of Kai’s neck, claiming a small stream of blood.
“...but I’m afraid the fun, is now over.”
They were face to face, their breath echoing off the walls. How did he not spot the side effects? The slime was dripping off Hugo’s skin, his lips tattered, and his bright red iris...it was so apparent to him now. Has the Dark King found a way to cloak the disease? How else would he not notice the slow and painful transition of becoming what now stands in front of him. Hugo...
“Give me the stone” His lips were in a constant grin, and ripped to shreds like the leftovers from an animal.
Doesn’t matter now. He needed to get out of there. Fighting a thing this far advanced is too risky to do it alone.
“Now! Before I paint the walls crimson! Here, we can do it together!” He menacingly laughed.
“On the count of three! One...” He had no other choice, he had to get to the stone.
“Two....” His sword pushed aggressively forward, collecting more blood.
“Three!”
Kai’s eyes darted to the ceiling.
And surprisingly, Hugo’s did too.
In a stretched second, Kai shot his hand to the ever shrinking stone on his neck, and he was gone.
|
|
[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
|
I don't know where exactly I picked up the axe... it would do, though; good steel, good haft, light, agile, sharp. I shook blood from the blade, remembered to pant, as if tired.
Time to do this.
I looked around me.
Fiona was loading short spikes into the drum of that funny springwork bow. She'd lost that steel half-helm, and her hair was caked with blood. Three rebel soldiers had made it this far, two heavy infantry in plate with pikestaves, and a musketeer. I searched my mind for names and came up blank. No matter.
And Voss of course.
Keep as many out of the room as possible. I took a breath before speaking.
"All right, I'm pretty sure he's in there. Voss, on me. You men hold the stairs. Fee, cover the window."
"What? Gabriel, I'm coming with you. You can't be serious. That's a *master vampire* in there. Even if he's alone, he'll - "
"Fee, I don't have time to argue. That's an order."
"Dammit, Gabriel, I won - "
I had to make this fast. "NOW, Captain Albrecht!"
She snapped to attention and saluted. Not an officer's salute. Right fist to left shoulder, like a private. I was going to hear about this later. But what else could I do? I glanced at Voss, inclined my head, and the door to the private audience chamber of Emperor Lucien the Bloodless slammed open under the impact of four hundred pounds of heavily armoured Ork.
The throne was empty, of course. I'd stashed the Ember Crown in a box behind it, along with some burnt scraps of rich clothing and the white and very convincing ashes of a fledgling I had slain with fire, then exposed to the sun for a full day.
I piled in behind Voss, kicking the door shut behind me. Now, I'd only have a few moments. I took another breath as I slipped up behind the giant form, stilled for a moment by puzzlement.
"Well, " I said as I struck him over the head with the haft of the axe, "this has been delightful, but I'm afraid that the ... "
I stopped. I hadn't been the only voice speaking.
"... fun is now over? Or something like that?" asked a girlish voice from behind me.
Too late, my ears informed me there was *still a heartbeat in the room*. Damn. I'd have to...
Damn it all.
I turned around and looked into Fiona Albrecht's green and very angry eyes. I didn't sigh. I didn't bother breathing. The only sound was the unconscious body of Voss, my selfless, loyal friend, slumping to the floor.
"How long have you known?"
"Since Temsford."
Crap. I knew I shouldn't have...
"When we - "
"Yeah, when *we*. When you fell asleep, after, you stopped breathing."
"We don't really sleep. Sort of a trance state. Let me guess. You checked for a heartbeat."
"I thought you were dead! I was so... and then you woke up and asked me what was wrong. And needed two tries, because you forgot to breathe first."
"Oh, you noticed that? Look, Fee - "
"DON'T CALL ME THAT! You set us all up! You were HIM all along! You're Lucien the Bloodless."
"Yes, at your service. Look, there's a reason for all of - "
"WHY? Gods damn it, I actually... I... " She swiped ineffectually at her eyes with a dirty sleeve, and only succeeded in mixing the tears with blood.
"You played along anyway. You knew, and you waited."
"I had to know why!"
"Because it was time for a change. Lucien was good for conquering most of the continent, but I needed a different sort of ruler to bring about reforms once I had control. I have to switch every 50 years or so, otherwise people start to notice."
"Wait. Before you were Lucien the Bloodless, you - "
"Julius the Tenth, yes. And the Ninth before that. Being openly a vampire was a nice change of pace. I've been every emperor for the past thousand years or so, Fiona. I have plans, you see, and I need different characters to enact them, so -"
And that was when she shot me. No hesitation at all. Just right up from the hip, and interrupted my monologue with a springbow bolt through my left eye. Must've been a lucky shot. She's good, but no one is that good.
"Ow! Damn it Fee, that hurts! Plated in sliver?" I bent and wrenched it out, involuntarily snarling with pain. It would be a few minutes before my vision returned. As I straightened up, another one hit me in the chest.
"Yes, silver, now die, you -"
"Stop it, Fee, that's just annoying. The silver thing... I spread that rumor myself. Should have used tropical hardwood. *Lignum vitae* or some such. I really wish you hadn't followed me in - "
... moving in a blur as I spoke, not going to make that mistake twice ...
" because I didn't want to hurt you if didn't have to. "
... crumpling the steel springbow in my hands...
" But now I have to keep you quiet, you and Voss both. You really loved Gabriel, didn't you?"
She stood motionless, eyes screwed tightly shut. A deer frozen by the lion's approach. She nodded. Barely.
"For that, I am sorry."
I killed her quickly, with as little pain as I could. Set her gently beside the uneasy slumber of Voss. And then, because perhaps I really was something of Gabriel, I did... something else.
When she woke up, she was even more furious. But also very, very hungry.
Perhaps in a few centuries, she will forgive me. Perhaps not.
|
(Set this in the universe I created for a novel I'm working on)
The throne room was massive, a long, wide hall with columns along the sides. The throne at the far end sat elevated above the rest of the room. The feet of anyone sitting in the throne would be eye level to their audience. Atop each column and on each side of the throne were stone gargoyles, fearsome creatures the old Lords loved to adorn their castles with. Trac turned to his companion, "the throne room is empty. We have come all this way for nothing."
"Well," replied Kar, "this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over."
"Fun?" Steamed Trac, "you call the dozens of dead warriors, good men, loyal men, husbands, fathers, brothers, and sons, fun?" He sheathed his blade and stood in front of Kar, his back to the throne.
"Yes, yes, we came here with so many brave warriors to beat back the Dark Lord," said Kar as he brushed aside Trac and made his way up the steps to the elevated throne. "I was tasked with one simple thing. And I have completed that task."
"Have you gone mad, our task is incomplete, the Dark Lord is not here!"
"And he never was!"
"You knew this and yet you say your own men confirmed the...."
"My men?" said Kar with a chuckle as he took a seat in the throne. "Have you seen my men?"
"What is this? What is going on here Kar?"
"This is Winter's Reach, the castle and home of the Great Lord that once lived here."
"Don't play games Kar, I know where I am. Legends abound of this place and the horrors of what happened to its people."
"Games? Who said anything of games? I said I was given one simple task that I have now completed."
"And what is your task? Did the Dark Lord have you send me on a wild chase looking for ghosts?"
"Looking for ghosts, ha," said Kar rising from the throne. "The Dark Lord came to this Reach years ago, he made me an offer..."
"He made you an offer?" yelled Trac, confused.
"Interupt the Great Lord of Winter again and it will be the last thing you do."
"The Lord of Winter died nearly a hundred years ago, Kar."
"The Dark Lord has many powers. I am the Great Lord of Winter's Reach. And now I have you alone, in my domain." Kar looked up towards the ceiling, "you may come down now."
The massive stone gargoyles dropped from their pedestals along the high walls of the throne room and surrounded Trac.
"Now stay here, Trac, while we await the Dark Lord. And do behave, we wouldn't want my pets to kill you before my Master"
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[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
|
Hey guys. Wanted to try my hand at another prompt to see how things would work out. I had a lot of fun with this story. Hope you enjoy and as always, feel free to let me know if there's anything I can improve on for the future.
~~~~~
“Wh-…where is he? He couldn’t have just gone off somewh-HE SHOULD BE RIGHT THERE!”
Kou’s eyes were wide as he gestured incredulously at the empty throne before him, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his sword in the other.
Stepping forward, the only sound in the long hall leading up to the throne was the thud of his boots against the floor as he slowly approached the throne, his brain spinning as he drew long breaths, his gaze flitting about the room, trying to find anything that could answer his question.
“Stop!”
Kou, doing as he was told, turned to look behind him at the girl who had been standing silently beside him when they entered. Her face was turned down at the floor, but even so, the tears didn’t go unnoticed to the confused hero.
“Lu…?”
Kou’s voice trailed off as he watched Lu crying, instantly forgetting about the empty throne behind him.
Lucy flinched at the name, as if she had just been poked with something sharp, and then she slowly brought her head up to gaze at Kou. A hesitent grin was plastered on her face while tears streamed down her cheeks.
“I’ve had so much fun with you, but it looks like it’s finally all over…”
Lucy dropped the staff she had been clutching in her hands, the twisted oaken pole clattering to the floor as she stepped over it and walked forward, passing by Kou without hesitating.
Frowning, the hero turned and watched as the girl that he had traveled with for two long years now walk down the hall towards the throne.
“Lu. Wait!”
Rushing forward, Kou instinctively reached out to grab his companion’s shoulder. But just as he touched her, a spark flew from Lucy’s body and lit the hero’s hand ablaze.
Yelping, Kou reeled back in surprise and the flames disappeared, leaving his hand unharmed.
Lucy didn’t stop until she finally reached the throne at the end of the hall, and then she turned to face Kou, the unsure grin gone from her face and the tears finally passing as she stared at the hero before her, thinking her words over carefully as he stared back, his mind blank at the turn of events.
“Kou…I’m so so sorry…I…I never…”
Lucy’s mind was just as blank as Kou’s at this point as she tried to think of what to say to the man before her.
Kou stepped forward, his sword shaking.
“Lu…what’s going on? What are you doing?”
Lucy let out a pained laugh in response, one hand covering her mouth as the other gripped the arm-rest of the throne to support her legs as her vision blurred again.
“I…I’m the daughter of the Demon King.”
“Don’t lie to me, Lu.”
Kou’s response was immediate, and his eyes went from confused to angry in an instant.
“You’re not the daughter of the Demon King. You’re the daughter of *our* King back home.”
Lucy shook her head in response, squeezing her eyes shut as she took labored breaths. To her, the pain she felt now was worse than anything she had ever experienced in the past two years.
“No, I’m not…I’m the King’s niece. I’m the Demon King’s daughter.”
“What are y-“
“Stop! Let me explain.”
Kou’s response caught in his throat and he closed his mouth again, his eyebrows drawing down to add to the apparent angry and confused look on his face.
Slowing her breathing, Lucy took a deep breath and slowly stood up straight again, lowering her arms defenselessly to her sides as she stared into the eyes of the hero before her.
“It’s…nearly four centuries ago, *our* country was preparing to go to war with the two neighboring countries to the East and West. My ancestors had been fearing war for so long, because at the time, our middle country acted as a buffer for the two on either side. We had no qualms with either, but they both harbored ill-will and carried enough power to level cities—and we were caught right in the middle…”
Lucy’s explanation was slow as she averted her scared and saddened eyes from Kou’s stare.
“My ancestors knew that, if our two neighbors were to go to war, we would suffer more than anyone else. And so they decided that the two countries needed someone else to fight. The King at that time had two sons. The older brother led the armies while the younger brother worked hard to help the economy prosper. The King and both sons understood that they needed something to change in order to both keep our country from going to war with the neighboring countries while simultaneously keeping our kingdom out of a financial hole…
“That’s when the older son of the King had an idea. At the time, there was a massive amount of unclaimed land to the south of all three countries, ruled by monsters and demons. The older son knew that if something or someone were to rise up in that land to strike at the other countries, then there would be a common enemy to fight…a few months later, the older son was killed during an expedition into that land, and not too long after that, the Demon King rose to power.”
Kou’s eyes began to widen once again at the implications of Lucy’s story and his sword dropped to the ground with a loud clang as he stared up at the woman before him. She slowly looked back at the hero, her face red from crying as she clasped her hands in front of her.
“But the last Demon King. My own father…the generals that served under him deemed him unfit to lead and killed him. Afterwards, they began to ravage the lands beyond the territory of this land. But now…”
“I killed them…”
Lucy nodded in response to Kou’s answer. Then slowly, Lucy began to walk towards the hero.
“Kou…I won’t ever make you do something against your will, but the Demon King’s throne is empty. For the sake of the prosperity of our country, our home…will you play the part?”
Lucy knelt before Kou when she reached him, picking up the hero’s sword and holding it out for him to take.
Kou’s eyes drifted from his companion to the sword she now held. He stared at the sword for what felt like an eternity as his brain swam, searching for an answer.
“Lu…”
Kou grasped the hilt of his sword once again, his eyes now resolute.
|
(Set this in the universe I created for a novel I'm working on)
The throne room was massive, a long, wide hall with columns along the sides. The throne at the far end sat elevated above the rest of the room. The feet of anyone sitting in the throne would be eye level to their audience. Atop each column and on each side of the throne were stone gargoyles, fearsome creatures the old Lords loved to adorn their castles with. Trac turned to his companion, "the throne room is empty. We have come all this way for nothing."
"Well," replied Kar, "this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over."
"Fun?" Steamed Trac, "you call the dozens of dead warriors, good men, loyal men, husbands, fathers, brothers, and sons, fun?" He sheathed his blade and stood in front of Kar, his back to the throne.
"Yes, yes, we came here with so many brave warriors to beat back the Dark Lord," said Kar as he brushed aside Trac and made his way up the steps to the elevated throne. "I was tasked with one simple thing. And I have completed that task."
"Have you gone mad, our task is incomplete, the Dark Lord is not here!"
"And he never was!"
"You knew this and yet you say your own men confirmed the...."
"My men?" said Kar with a chuckle as he took a seat in the throne. "Have you seen my men?"
"What is this? What is going on here Kar?"
"This is Winter's Reach, the castle and home of the Great Lord that once lived here."
"Don't play games Kar, I know where I am. Legends abound of this place and the horrors of what happened to its people."
"Games? Who said anything of games? I said I was given one simple task that I have now completed."
"And what is your task? Did the Dark Lord have you send me on a wild chase looking for ghosts?"
"Looking for ghosts, ha," said Kar rising from the throne. "The Dark Lord came to this Reach years ago, he made me an offer..."
"He made you an offer?" yelled Trac, confused.
"Interupt the Great Lord of Winter again and it will be the last thing you do."
"The Lord of Winter died nearly a hundred years ago, Kar."
"The Dark Lord has many powers. I am the Great Lord of Winter's Reach. And now I have you alone, in my domain." Kar looked up towards the ceiling, "you may come down now."
The massive stone gargoyles dropped from their pedestals along the high walls of the throne room and surrounded Trac.
"Now stay here, Trac, while we await the Dark Lord. And do behave, we wouldn't want my pets to kill you before my Master"
|
|
[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
|
The Hero hesitated. *No. This cannot be. This is one of his usual jokes, right?* He thought to himself.
"Ha ha. Very funny." The Hero raised a finger, wagging it at his friend. "You won't get me this time. You saw the throne empty and saw the opportunity to..." His voice trailed off as he watched his friend. Something was off. His friend had a look in his eyes he had never seen before.
His friend, with a smug grin that never wavered, strutted ahead, placing himself between the Hero and the throne. He glanced down momentarily, then back up at the Hero with a look of pure amusement.
"I'm afraid you misunderstand. My best prophets warned me of a hero, that, should I lazily sit by and command my hordes to kill, would in turn kill me. Apparently my minions would only serve as a stone wheel, sharpening your blade."
The Hero's hand rushed to his blade. His companion, ignored the gesture.
"So... I figured. Why not walk the same path, and grow stronger to meet him? Manipulate him into being my friend. Grow alongside him by striking down my own generals. Yada yada yada."
"You bastard!" The Hero lunched forward, ready to strike his so-called friend. With a loud clang, the Dark Lord's own blade struck the Hero's. With a slight shove from the Dark Lord's blade, the Hero stumbled a few steps back.
The Dark Lord turned to sit in his dusty throne. One hand dragging his sword on the ground, the other dismissively wagging his finger, as if admonishing a child.
"Tsk. Tsk. Let a man finish. My plan was flawless. Or so I thought. You see. What I failed to consider in my plan is..." He threw his sword off to the side. A loud clang resonated as it hit the floor.
"Actually becoming your friend."
"W..what?" The Hero's body went loose, his arms falling to his side. Confusion washed over his face. "What do you..."
"It's up to you now. My armies are dead, all my land and glory mere dust. What's more, I have no desire to end your life. So I leave it to you. End the curse I started. Free your people by finishing what we set out to do. I will not resist."
Teardrops fell hitting the floor. The Hero had no desire to kill the Dark Lord either. Dejected, he screamed out in pain. As he too was about to throw his sword, the Dark Lord startled him with a booming voice.
"No! Do not doom your family, your land by surrendering now. You know as well as I do, that the only way to end the curse is to end me. Do it. I beg you."
The Hero looked up to see the face of the Dark Lord also awash with tears. He nodded. The Dark Lord was right. Silently, we walked up to his friend. Closing his eyes, he lifted his blade and ran the Dark Lord through. What composure he had was lost. He collapsed on the Dark Lord, tears overflowing.
"Thank....you....Truely...it was...fun."
|
(Set this in the universe I created for a novel I'm working on)
The throne room was massive, a long, wide hall with columns along the sides. The throne at the far end sat elevated above the rest of the room. The feet of anyone sitting in the throne would be eye level to their audience. Atop each column and on each side of the throne were stone gargoyles, fearsome creatures the old Lords loved to adorn their castles with. Trac turned to his companion, "the throne room is empty. We have come all this way for nothing."
"Well," replied Kar, "this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over."
"Fun?" Steamed Trac, "you call the dozens of dead warriors, good men, loyal men, husbands, fathers, brothers, and sons, fun?" He sheathed his blade and stood in front of Kar, his back to the throne.
"Yes, yes, we came here with so many brave warriors to beat back the Dark Lord," said Kar as he brushed aside Trac and made his way up the steps to the elevated throne. "I was tasked with one simple thing. And I have completed that task."
"Have you gone mad, our task is incomplete, the Dark Lord is not here!"
"And he never was!"
"You knew this and yet you say your own men confirmed the...."
"My men?" said Kar with a chuckle as he took a seat in the throne. "Have you seen my men?"
"What is this? What is going on here Kar?"
"This is Winter's Reach, the castle and home of the Great Lord that once lived here."
"Don't play games Kar, I know where I am. Legends abound of this place and the horrors of what happened to its people."
"Games? Who said anything of games? I said I was given one simple task that I have now completed."
"And what is your task? Did the Dark Lord have you send me on a wild chase looking for ghosts?"
"Looking for ghosts, ha," said Kar rising from the throne. "The Dark Lord came to this Reach years ago, he made me an offer..."
"He made you an offer?" yelled Trac, confused.
"Interupt the Great Lord of Winter again and it will be the last thing you do."
"The Lord of Winter died nearly a hundred years ago, Kar."
"The Dark Lord has many powers. I am the Great Lord of Winter's Reach. And now I have you alone, in my domain." Kar looked up towards the ceiling, "you may come down now."
The massive stone gargoyles dropped from their pedestals along the high walls of the throne room and surrounded Trac.
"Now stay here, Trac, while we await the Dark Lord. And do behave, we wouldn't want my pets to kill you before my Master"
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|
[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
|
Leah mopped her brow with the back of one hand and muttered a curse under her breath. She was tired, so tired. All she wanted was to go home and sleep for three days straight. Instead, she stood in the antechamber just outside the Dark Lord's throne room, wearing steel armor that did more to weigh her down than to protect her at this point, holding a sword she could barely lift from the ground, leaning on her best friend and lifelong companion because she no longer had the strength to stand on her own.
"We're almost there," the man next to her said. "It's almost over, your Majesty."
She frowned at him. "Alex, I told you not to call me that. Not out here where anyone could hear. If they knew I had been forced to take up arms..."
"It doesn't matter now," Alex responded with a tight grin. "As I said, it's almost over, anyway."
Together, the two of them stepped up to the final barrier, the last door in their way. It was suitably grandiose, a massive door of solid oak, inlaid with gold, silver, and precious gems plundered from the kingdoms conquered by the Dark Lord's armies, stretching up nearly to the distant ceiling, more than five times as tall as the two people standing before it. Leah took a moment to admire the craftsmanship, then glanced over at Alex and nodded. Together, the two of them threw their shoulders against the door and *shoved* with all their might. With a screech of ungreased hinges, it slowly swung open, revealing the throne room of the Dark Legion's master.
It was as lavish as the door would suggest, with marble floors inlaid with more gems and precious metals, and priceless works of art (all prizes taken from subdued rulers, of course) decorated the space. A scarlet silk rug stretched from the entryway to the dais, upon which stood a throne carved from solid obsidian. Where the rest of the room spoke of wealth and privilege, the throne radiated unyielding power.
The *empty* throne.
Leah stared up at the vacant throne for a long moment, then sighed, removing her helmet and tossing it to the floor with a loud clang of metal on stone. Her sword followed it, creating another echoing, metallic cacophany. She walked up to the edge of the dais and gazed at the obsidian monstrosity.
Behind her, Alex started chuckling. "Well, this has been delightful," he said with a smirk, "but I'm afraid the fun is now over."
Leah raised an eyebrow. "Whatever do you mean?" she asked without looking back. She ascended the steps of the dais and turned to face her companion, lowering herself into the obsidian throne. Once she was seated, she grinned.
"Those *heroes* think I sacrificed my life to save them. They have no idea of the truth. When they come charging in here all full of courage and zeal and then see me sitting upon the throne..." Her grin widened further, her exhaustion replaced with gleeful anticipation. "No, my friend, the fun is far from over."
The Dark Lord Leahryx chuckled as she settled in to wait for the coming confrontation. Alex grinned in response and bowed deeply.
"Of course, your Majesty. You are correct, as always."
(Rough and unedited but hey it's 1AM and I wanted to write this. And now I kind of want to continue it.)
|
(Set this in the universe I created for a novel I'm working on)
The throne room was massive, a long, wide hall with columns along the sides. The throne at the far end sat elevated above the rest of the room. The feet of anyone sitting in the throne would be eye level to their audience. Atop each column and on each side of the throne were stone gargoyles, fearsome creatures the old Lords loved to adorn their castles with. Trac turned to his companion, "the throne room is empty. We have come all this way for nothing."
"Well," replied Kar, "this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over."
"Fun?" Steamed Trac, "you call the dozens of dead warriors, good men, loyal men, husbands, fathers, brothers, and sons, fun?" He sheathed his blade and stood in front of Kar, his back to the throne.
"Yes, yes, we came here with so many brave warriors to beat back the Dark Lord," said Kar as he brushed aside Trac and made his way up the steps to the elevated throne. "I was tasked with one simple thing. And I have completed that task."
"Have you gone mad, our task is incomplete, the Dark Lord is not here!"
"And he never was!"
"You knew this and yet you say your own men confirmed the...."
"My men?" said Kar with a chuckle as he took a seat in the throne. "Have you seen my men?"
"What is this? What is going on here Kar?"
"This is Winter's Reach, the castle and home of the Great Lord that once lived here."
"Don't play games Kar, I know where I am. Legends abound of this place and the horrors of what happened to its people."
"Games? Who said anything of games? I said I was given one simple task that I have now completed."
"And what is your task? Did the Dark Lord have you send me on a wild chase looking for ghosts?"
"Looking for ghosts, ha," said Kar rising from the throne. "The Dark Lord came to this Reach years ago, he made me an offer..."
"He made you an offer?" yelled Trac, confused.
"Interupt the Great Lord of Winter again and it will be the last thing you do."
"The Lord of Winter died nearly a hundred years ago, Kar."
"The Dark Lord has many powers. I am the Great Lord of Winter's Reach. And now I have you alone, in my domain." Kar looked up towards the ceiling, "you may come down now."
The massive stone gargoyles dropped from their pedestals along the high walls of the throne room and surrounded Trac.
"Now stay here, Trac, while we await the Dark Lord. And do behave, we wouldn't want my pets to kill you before my Master"
|
|
[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
|
The both of us enter the throne room of the Dark Lord. As we gaze upon the empty throne, my companion says with a grin,
"Well... this has been delightful, milady. But I'm afraid the fun is now over."
“Yes... I suppose it is.”
I give him a nonchalant reply.
All these past few months we’ve traveled... From one town to the next, one dungeon to the next, all for ridding this world of the demonic scourge. It’s been difficult, that’s for sure. The quality of life is poor, away from the decent food and luxuries of my home town...
But you know what? I enjoyed every second of it. This little journey has been the first and only time I felt alive.
It hasn’t even been that long since I’ve come to know this boy, but he’s proven to be the single most trustworthy companion.
And here we are, at the end of it all... After the deed is done, I’ll most likely return to—
“Um... milady? That’s not what I meant...“
“Then what was it— Wait... you’re talking as if you’ve read my mind, boy... Are you hiding something from me?”
“It’s about the Creator, you see... He’s the type to write endings first, but this time, the ending hasn’t even been finalized yet... Or the final enemy, for that matter...”
“So you’re saying that this is it for now? No Dark Lord? No climactic battle? No fancy banquets?”
“Yes, that was what I meant to say.”
“And he’s publishing this? Unbelievable...”
“Indeed it is...”
|
(Set this in the universe I created for a novel I'm working on)
The throne room was massive, a long, wide hall with columns along the sides. The throne at the far end sat elevated above the rest of the room. The feet of anyone sitting in the throne would be eye level to their audience. Atop each column and on each side of the throne were stone gargoyles, fearsome creatures the old Lords loved to adorn their castles with. Trac turned to his companion, "the throne room is empty. We have come all this way for nothing."
"Well," replied Kar, "this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over."
"Fun?" Steamed Trac, "you call the dozens of dead warriors, good men, loyal men, husbands, fathers, brothers, and sons, fun?" He sheathed his blade and stood in front of Kar, his back to the throne.
"Yes, yes, we came here with so many brave warriors to beat back the Dark Lord," said Kar as he brushed aside Trac and made his way up the steps to the elevated throne. "I was tasked with one simple thing. And I have completed that task."
"Have you gone mad, our task is incomplete, the Dark Lord is not here!"
"And he never was!"
"You knew this and yet you say your own men confirmed the...."
"My men?" said Kar with a chuckle as he took a seat in the throne. "Have you seen my men?"
"What is this? What is going on here Kar?"
"This is Winter's Reach, the castle and home of the Great Lord that once lived here."
"Don't play games Kar, I know where I am. Legends abound of this place and the horrors of what happened to its people."
"Games? Who said anything of games? I said I was given one simple task that I have now completed."
"And what is your task? Did the Dark Lord have you send me on a wild chase looking for ghosts?"
"Looking for ghosts, ha," said Kar rising from the throne. "The Dark Lord came to this Reach years ago, he made me an offer..."
"He made you an offer?" yelled Trac, confused.
"Interupt the Great Lord of Winter again and it will be the last thing you do."
"The Lord of Winter died nearly a hundred years ago, Kar."
"The Dark Lord has many powers. I am the Great Lord of Winter's Reach. And now I have you alone, in my domain." Kar looked up towards the ceiling, "you may come down now."
The massive stone gargoyles dropped from their pedestals along the high walls of the throne room and surrounded Trac.
"Now stay here, Trac, while we await the Dark Lord. And do behave, we wouldn't want my pets to kill you before my Master"
|
|
[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
|
As the hero enters the throne room of the Dark Lord, he finds the throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin, "Well, this has been delightful, but I'm afraid the fun is now over."
 
Adjusting his chat headset, Hudson sighed. “Dude, we’re so close. Can’t you stay on just another hour?”
    Tane shook his head, forgetting Hudson was miles away behind a computer screen and not right beside him. “Sorry, I really can’t. I’ve been putting off Finley for three days, and I’m finally taking her out tonight. She’ll lose it if I’m not ready by four.”
    “What?” Hudson yelped. “It’s just now nine in the morning!”
    “Hudson,” Tane said. “There’s a six-hour time difference between us, remember?”
    “Oh,” Hudson sighed. After a moment, he huffed, “Man, you’re really whipped.”
    “Nah, I’m just in *love*,” Tane teased, drawing it out. Hudson scoffed.
    “Shut up.” Hudson refocused his attention on the game and directed his armor-clad hero further into the throne room. “Come on, seriously. I want to find this bastard Dark Lord guy and see what he drops.”
    “It’s not even that good. My cousin played and- “
    “Shut up!” Hudson repeated. “Don’t ruin this for me.”
 
Tane glanced at the clock. He promised his girlfriend a fancy dinner date tonight, and he promised himself that he’d take a break from the addicting world of *Tremania* to spend time with real people instead of 3D orcs and warlocks. He knew Hudson, however, would spend all day immersed in the game. He’d never get out of his chair unless it was absolutely necessary, and even then, he’d often carry his laptop with him and continue playing. Tane was far less obsessed than Hudson was, but he could see how quickly the addiction could form.
 
     *Tremania* let you be anything you wanted, and Hudson transformed from a sick, cancer-weakened ex-football player to a mighty warrior with plenty of friends, plenty of fame, and plenty of fortune. He spent all his time immersed in the virtual world as the rest of his life slowly withered away.
Tane, who played a fierce mage character, used *Tremania* as a stress-relieving outlet. Between college, a serious girlfriend, a developing career, and an adventurous social life, Tane hardly had any time for himself. When he finally took a break, he explored dungeons and conquered hordes of monsters armed with only a mouse and a keyboard. He enjoyed his life, but he worried about Hudson.
 
    “Hey, Huds?” Tane spoke gently into his mic.
    “Yeah?” Hudson’s face was screwed up in concentration as he frantically searched for any clues to the level boss’s location.
    “How are you doing? Really.”
 
    Hudson stopped. His hands, cold from the lack of movement, stalled on his laptop’s keyboard. He looked over the oxygen tank sitting next to him, the dozens of little orange bottles that littered his desk, and the looseness of his tshirt that wasn’t there two months ago.
    “I’m better than ever, bro. Better than ever.” Hudson clicked a few more times and then a message popped up on the screen. “Got it!” He shouted. “Let’s go!”
 
    Tane’s phone buzzed. Without looking, he knew it was Finley asking if he was ready. “I can’t,” he said, moving his cursor to the red “Log Out” bar. “I’m really sorry. I’ll log back on tonight and we can do a couple dungeon raids, okay?”
    “Fine,” Hudson mumbled, already preoccupied with the boss battle. “See you then.”
 
Tane took off his headset and tossed it on his bed. With a click of his mouse, the throne room disappeared. He closed the laptop, and once again he was Tane Williams, not a fearless battlemage. Real life was waiting for him, full of just as much – if not more – excitement and opportunity as the game.
 
    For Hudson, beyond the game there was nothing but beeping machines and tiny pills, empty stomachs and patchy hair loss. It was a refuge where he could be the hero, instead of waiting for someone to save him. At least in *Tremania*, Hudson Brant could have a happy ending.
|
(Set this in the universe I created for a novel I'm working on)
The throne room was massive, a long, wide hall with columns along the sides. The throne at the far end sat elevated above the rest of the room. The feet of anyone sitting in the throne would be eye level to their audience. Atop each column and on each side of the throne were stone gargoyles, fearsome creatures the old Lords loved to adorn their castles with. Trac turned to his companion, "the throne room is empty. We have come all this way for nothing."
"Well," replied Kar, "this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over."
"Fun?" Steamed Trac, "you call the dozens of dead warriors, good men, loyal men, husbands, fathers, brothers, and sons, fun?" He sheathed his blade and stood in front of Kar, his back to the throne.
"Yes, yes, we came here with so many brave warriors to beat back the Dark Lord," said Kar as he brushed aside Trac and made his way up the steps to the elevated throne. "I was tasked with one simple thing. And I have completed that task."
"Have you gone mad, our task is incomplete, the Dark Lord is not here!"
"And he never was!"
"You knew this and yet you say your own men confirmed the...."
"My men?" said Kar with a chuckle as he took a seat in the throne. "Have you seen my men?"
"What is this? What is going on here Kar?"
"This is Winter's Reach, the castle and home of the Great Lord that once lived here."
"Don't play games Kar, I know where I am. Legends abound of this place and the horrors of what happened to its people."
"Games? Who said anything of games? I said I was given one simple task that I have now completed."
"And what is your task? Did the Dark Lord have you send me on a wild chase looking for ghosts?"
"Looking for ghosts, ha," said Kar rising from the throne. "The Dark Lord came to this Reach years ago, he made me an offer..."
"He made you an offer?" yelled Trac, confused.
"Interupt the Great Lord of Winter again and it will be the last thing you do."
"The Lord of Winter died nearly a hundred years ago, Kar."
"The Dark Lord has many powers. I am the Great Lord of Winter's Reach. And now I have you alone, in my domain." Kar looked up towards the ceiling, "you may come down now."
The massive stone gargoyles dropped from their pedestals along the high walls of the throne room and surrounded Trac.
"Now stay here, Trac, while we await the Dark Lord. And do behave, we wouldn't want my pets to kill you before my Master"
|
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[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
|
The both of us enter the throne room of the Dark Lord. As we gaze upon the empty throne, my companion says with a grin,
"Well... this has been delightful, milady. But I'm afraid the fun is now over."
“Yes... I suppose it is.”
I give him a nonchalant reply.
All these past few months we’ve traveled... From one town to the next, one dungeon to the next, all for ridding this world of the demonic scourge. It’s been difficult, that’s for sure. The quality of life is poor, away from the decent food and luxuries of my home town...
But you know what? I enjoyed every second of it. This little journey has been the first and only time I felt alive.
It hasn’t even been that long since I’ve come to know this boy, but he’s proven to be the single most trustworthy companion.
And here we are, at the end of it all... After the deed is done, I’ll most likely return to—
“Um... milady? That’s not what I meant...“
“Then what was it— Wait... you’re talking as if you’ve read my mind, boy... Are you hiding something from me?”
“It’s about the Creator, you see... He’s the type to write endings first, but this time, the ending hasn’t even been finalized yet... Or the final enemy, for that matter...”
“So you’re saying that this is it for now? No Dark Lord? No climactic battle? No fancy banquets?”
“Yes, that was what I meant to say.”
“And he’s publishing this? Unbelievable...”
“Indeed it is...”
|
Hey guys. Wanted to try my hand at another prompt to see how things would work out. I had a lot of fun with this story. Hope you enjoy and as always, feel free to let me know if there's anything I can improve on for the future.
~~~~~
“Wh-…where is he? He couldn’t have just gone off somewh-HE SHOULD BE RIGHT THERE!”
Kou’s eyes were wide as he gestured incredulously at the empty throne before him, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his sword in the other.
Stepping forward, the only sound in the long hall leading up to the throne was the thud of his boots against the floor as he slowly approached the throne, his brain spinning as he drew long breaths, his gaze flitting about the room, trying to find anything that could answer his question.
“Stop!”
Kou, doing as he was told, turned to look behind him at the girl who had been standing silently beside him when they entered. Her face was turned down at the floor, but even so, the tears didn’t go unnoticed to the confused hero.
“Lu…?”
Kou’s voice trailed off as he watched Lu crying, instantly forgetting about the empty throne behind him.
Lucy flinched at the name, as if she had just been poked with something sharp, and then she slowly brought her head up to gaze at Kou. A hesitent grin was plastered on her face while tears streamed down her cheeks.
“I’ve had so much fun with you, but it looks like it’s finally all over…”
Lucy dropped the staff she had been clutching in her hands, the twisted oaken pole clattering to the floor as she stepped over it and walked forward, passing by Kou without hesitating.
Frowning, the hero turned and watched as the girl that he had traveled with for two long years now walk down the hall towards the throne.
“Lu. Wait!”
Rushing forward, Kou instinctively reached out to grab his companion’s shoulder. But just as he touched her, a spark flew from Lucy’s body and lit the hero’s hand ablaze.
Yelping, Kou reeled back in surprise and the flames disappeared, leaving his hand unharmed.
Lucy didn’t stop until she finally reached the throne at the end of the hall, and then she turned to face Kou, the unsure grin gone from her face and the tears finally passing as she stared at the hero before her, thinking her words over carefully as he stared back, his mind blank at the turn of events.
“Kou…I’m so so sorry…I…I never…”
Lucy’s mind was just as blank as Kou’s at this point as she tried to think of what to say to the man before her.
Kou stepped forward, his sword shaking.
“Lu…what’s going on? What are you doing?”
Lucy let out a pained laugh in response, one hand covering her mouth as the other gripped the arm-rest of the throne to support her legs as her vision blurred again.
“I…I’m the daughter of the Demon King.”
“Don’t lie to me, Lu.”
Kou’s response was immediate, and his eyes went from confused to angry in an instant.
“You’re not the daughter of the Demon King. You’re the daughter of *our* King back home.”
Lucy shook her head in response, squeezing her eyes shut as she took labored breaths. To her, the pain she felt now was worse than anything she had ever experienced in the past two years.
“No, I’m not…I’m the King’s niece. I’m the Demon King’s daughter.”
“What are y-“
“Stop! Let me explain.”
Kou’s response caught in his throat and he closed his mouth again, his eyebrows drawing down to add to the apparent angry and confused look on his face.
Slowing her breathing, Lucy took a deep breath and slowly stood up straight again, lowering her arms defenselessly to her sides as she stared into the eyes of the hero before her.
“It’s…nearly four centuries ago, *our* country was preparing to go to war with the two neighboring countries to the East and West. My ancestors had been fearing war for so long, because at the time, our middle country acted as a buffer for the two on either side. We had no qualms with either, but they both harbored ill-will and carried enough power to level cities—and we were caught right in the middle…”
Lucy’s explanation was slow as she averted her scared and saddened eyes from Kou’s stare.
“My ancestors knew that, if our two neighbors were to go to war, we would suffer more than anyone else. And so they decided that the two countries needed someone else to fight. The King at that time had two sons. The older brother led the armies while the younger brother worked hard to help the economy prosper. The King and both sons understood that they needed something to change in order to both keep our country from going to war with the neighboring countries while simultaneously keeping our kingdom out of a financial hole…
“That’s when the older son of the King had an idea. At the time, there was a massive amount of unclaimed land to the south of all three countries, ruled by monsters and demons. The older son knew that if something or someone were to rise up in that land to strike at the other countries, then there would be a common enemy to fight…a few months later, the older son was killed during an expedition into that land, and not too long after that, the Demon King rose to power.”
Kou’s eyes began to widen once again at the implications of Lucy’s story and his sword dropped to the ground with a loud clang as he stared up at the woman before him. She slowly looked back at the hero, her face red from crying as she clasped her hands in front of her.
“But the last Demon King. My own father…the generals that served under him deemed him unfit to lead and killed him. Afterwards, they began to ravage the lands beyond the territory of this land. But now…”
“I killed them…”
Lucy nodded in response to Kou’s answer. Then slowly, Lucy began to walk towards the hero.
“Kou…I won’t ever make you do something against your will, but the Demon King’s throne is empty. For the sake of the prosperity of our country, our home…will you play the part?”
Lucy knelt before Kou when she reached him, picking up the hero’s sword and holding it out for him to take.
Kou’s eyes drifted from his companion to the sword she now held. He stared at the sword for what felt like an eternity as his brain swam, searching for an answer.
“Lu…”
Kou grasped the hilt of his sword once again, his eyes now resolute.
|
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[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
|
As the hero enters the throne room of the Dark Lord, he finds the throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin, "Well, this has been delightful, but I'm afraid the fun is now over."
 
Adjusting his chat headset, Hudson sighed. “Dude, we’re so close. Can’t you stay on just another hour?”
    Tane shook his head, forgetting Hudson was miles away behind a computer screen and not right beside him. “Sorry, I really can’t. I’ve been putting off Finley for three days, and I’m finally taking her out tonight. She’ll lose it if I’m not ready by four.”
    “What?” Hudson yelped. “It’s just now nine in the morning!”
    “Hudson,” Tane said. “There’s a six-hour time difference between us, remember?”
    “Oh,” Hudson sighed. After a moment, he huffed, “Man, you’re really whipped.”
    “Nah, I’m just in *love*,” Tane teased, drawing it out. Hudson scoffed.
    “Shut up.” Hudson refocused his attention on the game and directed his armor-clad hero further into the throne room. “Come on, seriously. I want to find this bastard Dark Lord guy and see what he drops.”
    “It’s not even that good. My cousin played and- “
    “Shut up!” Hudson repeated. “Don’t ruin this for me.”
 
Tane glanced at the clock. He promised his girlfriend a fancy dinner date tonight, and he promised himself that he’d take a break from the addicting world of *Tremania* to spend time with real people instead of 3D orcs and warlocks. He knew Hudson, however, would spend all day immersed in the game. He’d never get out of his chair unless it was absolutely necessary, and even then, he’d often carry his laptop with him and continue playing. Tane was far less obsessed than Hudson was, but he could see how quickly the addiction could form.
 
     *Tremania* let you be anything you wanted, and Hudson transformed from a sick, cancer-weakened ex-football player to a mighty warrior with plenty of friends, plenty of fame, and plenty of fortune. He spent all his time immersed in the virtual world as the rest of his life slowly withered away.
Tane, who played a fierce mage character, used *Tremania* as a stress-relieving outlet. Between college, a serious girlfriend, a developing career, and an adventurous social life, Tane hardly had any time for himself. When he finally took a break, he explored dungeons and conquered hordes of monsters armed with only a mouse and a keyboard. He enjoyed his life, but he worried about Hudson.
 
    “Hey, Huds?” Tane spoke gently into his mic.
    “Yeah?” Hudson’s face was screwed up in concentration as he frantically searched for any clues to the level boss’s location.
    “How are you doing? Really.”
 
    Hudson stopped. His hands, cold from the lack of movement, stalled on his laptop’s keyboard. He looked over the oxygen tank sitting next to him, the dozens of little orange bottles that littered his desk, and the looseness of his tshirt that wasn’t there two months ago.
    “I’m better than ever, bro. Better than ever.” Hudson clicked a few more times and then a message popped up on the screen. “Got it!” He shouted. “Let’s go!”
 
    Tane’s phone buzzed. Without looking, he knew it was Finley asking if he was ready. “I can’t,” he said, moving his cursor to the red “Log Out” bar. “I’m really sorry. I’ll log back on tonight and we can do a couple dungeon raids, okay?”
    “Fine,” Hudson mumbled, already preoccupied with the boss battle. “See you then.”
 
Tane took off his headset and tossed it on his bed. With a click of his mouse, the throne room disappeared. He closed the laptop, and once again he was Tane Williams, not a fearless battlemage. Real life was waiting for him, full of just as much – if not more – excitement and opportunity as the game.
 
    For Hudson, beyond the game there was nothing but beeping machines and tiny pills, empty stomachs and patchy hair loss. It was a refuge where he could be the hero, instead of waiting for someone to save him. At least in *Tremania*, Hudson Brant could have a happy ending.
|
Hey guys. Wanted to try my hand at another prompt to see how things would work out. I had a lot of fun with this story. Hope you enjoy and as always, feel free to let me know if there's anything I can improve on for the future.
~~~~~
“Wh-…where is he? He couldn’t have just gone off somewh-HE SHOULD BE RIGHT THERE!”
Kou’s eyes were wide as he gestured incredulously at the empty throne before him, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his sword in the other.
Stepping forward, the only sound in the long hall leading up to the throne was the thud of his boots against the floor as he slowly approached the throne, his brain spinning as he drew long breaths, his gaze flitting about the room, trying to find anything that could answer his question.
“Stop!”
Kou, doing as he was told, turned to look behind him at the girl who had been standing silently beside him when they entered. Her face was turned down at the floor, but even so, the tears didn’t go unnoticed to the confused hero.
“Lu…?”
Kou’s voice trailed off as he watched Lu crying, instantly forgetting about the empty throne behind him.
Lucy flinched at the name, as if she had just been poked with something sharp, and then she slowly brought her head up to gaze at Kou. A hesitent grin was plastered on her face while tears streamed down her cheeks.
“I’ve had so much fun with you, but it looks like it’s finally all over…”
Lucy dropped the staff she had been clutching in her hands, the twisted oaken pole clattering to the floor as she stepped over it and walked forward, passing by Kou without hesitating.
Frowning, the hero turned and watched as the girl that he had traveled with for two long years now walk down the hall towards the throne.
“Lu. Wait!”
Rushing forward, Kou instinctively reached out to grab his companion’s shoulder. But just as he touched her, a spark flew from Lucy’s body and lit the hero’s hand ablaze.
Yelping, Kou reeled back in surprise and the flames disappeared, leaving his hand unharmed.
Lucy didn’t stop until she finally reached the throne at the end of the hall, and then she turned to face Kou, the unsure grin gone from her face and the tears finally passing as she stared at the hero before her, thinking her words over carefully as he stared back, his mind blank at the turn of events.
“Kou…I’m so so sorry…I…I never…”
Lucy’s mind was just as blank as Kou’s at this point as she tried to think of what to say to the man before her.
Kou stepped forward, his sword shaking.
“Lu…what’s going on? What are you doing?”
Lucy let out a pained laugh in response, one hand covering her mouth as the other gripped the arm-rest of the throne to support her legs as her vision blurred again.
“I…I’m the daughter of the Demon King.”
“Don’t lie to me, Lu.”
Kou’s response was immediate, and his eyes went from confused to angry in an instant.
“You’re not the daughter of the Demon King. You’re the daughter of *our* King back home.”
Lucy shook her head in response, squeezing her eyes shut as she took labored breaths. To her, the pain she felt now was worse than anything she had ever experienced in the past two years.
“No, I’m not…I’m the King’s niece. I’m the Demon King’s daughter.”
“What are y-“
“Stop! Let me explain.”
Kou’s response caught in his throat and he closed his mouth again, his eyebrows drawing down to add to the apparent angry and confused look on his face.
Slowing her breathing, Lucy took a deep breath and slowly stood up straight again, lowering her arms defenselessly to her sides as she stared into the eyes of the hero before her.
“It’s…nearly four centuries ago, *our* country was preparing to go to war with the two neighboring countries to the East and West. My ancestors had been fearing war for so long, because at the time, our middle country acted as a buffer for the two on either side. We had no qualms with either, but they both harbored ill-will and carried enough power to level cities—and we were caught right in the middle…”
Lucy’s explanation was slow as she averted her scared and saddened eyes from Kou’s stare.
“My ancestors knew that, if our two neighbors were to go to war, we would suffer more than anyone else. And so they decided that the two countries needed someone else to fight. The King at that time had two sons. The older brother led the armies while the younger brother worked hard to help the economy prosper. The King and both sons understood that they needed something to change in order to both keep our country from going to war with the neighboring countries while simultaneously keeping our kingdom out of a financial hole…
“That’s when the older son of the King had an idea. At the time, there was a massive amount of unclaimed land to the south of all three countries, ruled by monsters and demons. The older son knew that if something or someone were to rise up in that land to strike at the other countries, then there would be a common enemy to fight…a few months later, the older son was killed during an expedition into that land, and not too long after that, the Demon King rose to power.”
Kou’s eyes began to widen once again at the implications of Lucy’s story and his sword dropped to the ground with a loud clang as he stared up at the woman before him. She slowly looked back at the hero, her face red from crying as she clasped her hands in front of her.
“But the last Demon King. My own father…the generals that served under him deemed him unfit to lead and killed him. Afterwards, they began to ravage the lands beyond the territory of this land. But now…”
“I killed them…”
Lucy nodded in response to Kou’s answer. Then slowly, Lucy began to walk towards the hero.
“Kou…I won’t ever make you do something against your will, but the Demon King’s throne is empty. For the sake of the prosperity of our country, our home…will you play the part?”
Lucy knelt before Kou when she reached him, picking up the hero’s sword and holding it out for him to take.
Kou’s eyes drifted from his companion to the sword she now held. He stared at the sword for what felt like an eternity as his brain swam, searching for an answer.
“Lu…”
Kou grasped the hilt of his sword once again, his eyes now resolute.
|
|
[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
|
I walked in the room with Cynthia. It was dark and cold and I could feel the death and pain that has happened in the very room I was standing in. I opened my palms and they were engulfed in flame. I looked around. I gasped loud when I saw it.
The throne. It was a dark wood. Most likely from the trees from the Black Forest. It was covered in knifes and blades. But one thing I noticed stood out to me. It was empty. Cynthia and I have traveled from realm to realm, from town to town, looking to fight the Dark Lord that threatened all of the worlds existence, and the chair was empty. I heard a small snicker, then it turned into a giggle, then it turned into the most terrifying sound I’ve ever heard. It was Cynthia.
I looked at her face. It was stone cold. Her eyes showed no emotion. Her face was pale. She laughed like a manic.
“Goodbye Jake.”
She pulled out a dagger and reared back. Time slowed to a halt and I tried to shield myself with my hands. Even when she was about to kill me, I denied it. The love of my life was the Dark Lord. She had a smile that went up to her cheeks. As a single tear escaped the blade cut through my armor and pierced my chest. I tried to say something. All that came out was a small croak.
“I loved you...”
I felt a warm liquid trickle down my body. I tried to inhale but nothing came in or out. I blinked once again but this time I couldn’t open my eyes. I hit the ground and then I felt nothing. Pure darkness. I heard nothing. Nothing at all. No ring, no noise, just silence. I tried to speak but it was like my mouth was sewn shut. I tried to move but I felt sick. I didn’t want to move. And even if I did I don’t think I would have been able to. I cried on the inside because the tears just wouldn’t come out. “I NEED A HEALER!”
The voice boomed throughout my body. I was confused. *gasp* I sat up. First thing I noticed was the dagger in my chest. Then I saw a mage standing over me with a bright light coming out of his finger tips. “You’re gonna be ok.” I shook my head. “Cynthia...” he looked shocked like he forgot to tell me something. “We know. She fled when we arrived but we’re going to catch her.” I laid there and cried. But at least I’m alive.
So I’m 11 and I’m a new writer that found this passion a year ago. Can anyone rate my writing cause if so that would be fantastic.
|
“Well, this has been delightful, but I’m afraid the fun is now over.”
“Rover? You can talk?” My one-time master’s last words faded into silence. I shook his throat back in forth in my teeth, then let go, satisfied.
I barked, signaling my human attendants to come and dispose of the body. Then I trotted over to my comfortable bed beside the throne and lay down after circling a few times.
Ahh, much better. I’d been sleeping in the forest for months now while my pawn made his way towards the castle. It wouldn’t be long before I had to go out again.
Already my paid bards would be telling new stories of a destined hero, someone to defeat the dark lord. In a few weeks, my spies would find someone handsome and strong, but not too bright. Then I would appear to them with a letter and a locket, saying that their royal inheritance has arrived.
I’m a huge white dog, with blue eyes that appear almost human in their intelligence. Practically a guardian angel. My pawn may refuse the call at first. They might be afraid. But I will always be there to comfort them, and nudge them forward.
And while the people wait for their hero to save them, they will never rise on their own.
______________________________________________________
23/365. Constructive criticism welcome and appreciated.
|
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[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
|
“Well, this has been delightful, but I’m afraid the fun is now over.”
Ferradin stopped midstride as he was walking towards the throne. "Wait, what?" he asked, turning to Brend.
A wide grin split Brend's face and he cackled madly. "This was fun while it lasted, but I must tell you now that we are finally here," the man said, gesturing to the hall. "You see, my real name is Lord Phair and I am in fact the Necromancer King." The pudgy man continued cackling. The noise simply didn't sound like something that should be erupting from the usually jolly man's lips.
Ferradin stepped back and gaped. "But-" he stammered, "That's impossible!"
"Oh it's quite possible, I assure you. Did you never notice how the skeletons never touched me? Or how the flicker of recognition in Duke Dralluke's eyes right before you staked him through his heart?" He asked. Lord Phair turned his back and ascended the dais. He sat heavily on the throne. "I do apologize for the charade, but trust me, it was necessary. Oh, and I am sorry about the real Brend." He whistled and a rotting, emaciated corpse shuffled into the room, stopping right before Lord Phair. It stared sightlessly forward, a pale shadow of the formerly chipper and kindly man.
"But it simply isn't possible!" Ferradin sputtered.
Lord Phair scowled. "Really, I know you're thick, but I would think you would be able to keep up. It is really quite simple. During the battle of Delrich Point I infilitrated the back lines and killed Brend. I then took his place."
Ferradin shook himself. "Yes, that I understand. The swap was obvious. Your stench is a lot different from Brend's usual body odor; you do realize you smell like rotting corpses, right? It's really not that hard to cover up, that sort of stench," Ferradin realized he was rambling and bit his lip. He thought a second and said, "What I can't understand is how you're the Necromancer King."
The Necromancer flared his nostrils and slouched back in the throne. "You've always an uncanny ability to ruin a perfectly good monologue," he mumbled. "It's not hard to understand," he said louder. "I killed Brend;" Ferradin nodded. "I pretended to be him;"
"Poorly," the hero mumbled.
"But I was the Necomancer King all along!" Phair spat, ignoring Ferradin's interjection.
"No you're not," Ferradin stated.
"Yes I am," Phair said, grinding his teeth.
"Except you *can't* be," Ferradin groused, "Because *I'm* the Necromancer King!"
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Edit 1: Wrong name and perspective.
Edit 2: Wording
|
“Well, this has been delightful, but I’m afraid the fun is now over.”
“Rover? You can talk?” My one-time master’s last words faded into silence. I shook his throat back in forth in my teeth, then let go, satisfied.
I barked, signaling my human attendants to come and dispose of the body. Then I trotted over to my comfortable bed beside the throne and lay down after circling a few times.
Ahh, much better. I’d been sleeping in the forest for months now while my pawn made his way towards the castle. It wouldn’t be long before I had to go out again.
Already my paid bards would be telling new stories of a destined hero, someone to defeat the dark lord. In a few weeks, my spies would find someone handsome and strong, but not too bright. Then I would appear to them with a letter and a locket, saying that their royal inheritance has arrived.
I’m a huge white dog, with blue eyes that appear almost human in their intelligence. Practically a guardian angel. My pawn may refuse the call at first. They might be afraid. But I will always be there to comfort them, and nudge them forward.
And while the people wait for their hero to save them, they will never rise on their own.
______________________________________________________
23/365. Constructive criticism welcome and appreciated.
|
|
[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
|
The both of us enter the throne room of the Dark Lord. As we gaze upon the empty throne, my companion says with a grin,
"Well... this has been delightful, milady. But I'm afraid the fun is now over."
“Yes... I suppose it is.”
I give him a nonchalant reply.
All these past few months we’ve traveled... From one town to the next, one dungeon to the next, all for ridding this world of the demonic scourge. It’s been difficult, that’s for sure. The quality of life is poor, away from the decent food and luxuries of my home town...
But you know what? I enjoyed every second of it. This little journey has been the first and only time I felt alive.
It hasn’t even been that long since I’ve come to know this boy, but he’s proven to be the single most trustworthy companion.
And here we are, at the end of it all... After the deed is done, I’ll most likely return to—
“Um... milady? That’s not what I meant...“
“Then what was it— Wait... you’re talking as if you’ve read my mind, boy... Are you hiding something from me?”
“It’s about the Creator, you see... He’s the type to write endings first, but this time, the ending hasn’t even been finalized yet... Or the final enemy, for that matter...”
“So you’re saying that this is it for now? No Dark Lord? No climactic battle? No fancy banquets?”
“Yes, that was what I meant to say.”
“And he’s publishing this? Unbelievable...”
“Indeed it is...”
|
“Well, this has been delightful, but I’m afraid the fun is now over.”
“Rover? You can talk?” My one-time master’s last words faded into silence. I shook his throat back in forth in my teeth, then let go, satisfied.
I barked, signaling my human attendants to come and dispose of the body. Then I trotted over to my comfortable bed beside the throne and lay down after circling a few times.
Ahh, much better. I’d been sleeping in the forest for months now while my pawn made his way towards the castle. It wouldn’t be long before I had to go out again.
Already my paid bards would be telling new stories of a destined hero, someone to defeat the dark lord. In a few weeks, my spies would find someone handsome and strong, but not too bright. Then I would appear to them with a letter and a locket, saying that their royal inheritance has arrived.
I’m a huge white dog, with blue eyes that appear almost human in their intelligence. Practically a guardian angel. My pawn may refuse the call at first. They might be afraid. But I will always be there to comfort them, and nudge them forward.
And while the people wait for their hero to save them, they will never rise on their own.
______________________________________________________
23/365. Constructive criticism welcome and appreciated.
|
|
[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
|
As the hero enters the throne room of the Dark Lord, he finds the throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin, "Well, this has been delightful, but I'm afraid the fun is now over."
 
Adjusting his chat headset, Hudson sighed. “Dude, we’re so close. Can’t you stay on just another hour?”
    Tane shook his head, forgetting Hudson was miles away behind a computer screen and not right beside him. “Sorry, I really can’t. I’ve been putting off Finley for three days, and I’m finally taking her out tonight. She’ll lose it if I’m not ready by four.”
    “What?” Hudson yelped. “It’s just now nine in the morning!”
    “Hudson,” Tane said. “There’s a six-hour time difference between us, remember?”
    “Oh,” Hudson sighed. After a moment, he huffed, “Man, you’re really whipped.”
    “Nah, I’m just in *love*,” Tane teased, drawing it out. Hudson scoffed.
    “Shut up.” Hudson refocused his attention on the game and directed his armor-clad hero further into the throne room. “Come on, seriously. I want to find this bastard Dark Lord guy and see what he drops.”
    “It’s not even that good. My cousin played and- “
    “Shut up!” Hudson repeated. “Don’t ruin this for me.”
 
Tane glanced at the clock. He promised his girlfriend a fancy dinner date tonight, and he promised himself that he’d take a break from the addicting world of *Tremania* to spend time with real people instead of 3D orcs and warlocks. He knew Hudson, however, would spend all day immersed in the game. He’d never get out of his chair unless it was absolutely necessary, and even then, he’d often carry his laptop with him and continue playing. Tane was far less obsessed than Hudson was, but he could see how quickly the addiction could form.
 
     *Tremania* let you be anything you wanted, and Hudson transformed from a sick, cancer-weakened ex-football player to a mighty warrior with plenty of friends, plenty of fame, and plenty of fortune. He spent all his time immersed in the virtual world as the rest of his life slowly withered away.
Tane, who played a fierce mage character, used *Tremania* as a stress-relieving outlet. Between college, a serious girlfriend, a developing career, and an adventurous social life, Tane hardly had any time for himself. When he finally took a break, he explored dungeons and conquered hordes of monsters armed with only a mouse and a keyboard. He enjoyed his life, but he worried about Hudson.
 
    “Hey, Huds?” Tane spoke gently into his mic.
    “Yeah?” Hudson’s face was screwed up in concentration as he frantically searched for any clues to the level boss’s location.
    “How are you doing? Really.”
 
    Hudson stopped. His hands, cold from the lack of movement, stalled on his laptop’s keyboard. He looked over the oxygen tank sitting next to him, the dozens of little orange bottles that littered his desk, and the looseness of his tshirt that wasn’t there two months ago.
    “I’m better than ever, bro. Better than ever.” Hudson clicked a few more times and then a message popped up on the screen. “Got it!” He shouted. “Let’s go!”
 
    Tane’s phone buzzed. Without looking, he knew it was Finley asking if he was ready. “I can’t,” he said, moving his cursor to the red “Log Out” bar. “I’m really sorry. I’ll log back on tonight and we can do a couple dungeon raids, okay?”
    “Fine,” Hudson mumbled, already preoccupied with the boss battle. “See you then.”
 
Tane took off his headset and tossed it on his bed. With a click of his mouse, the throne room disappeared. He closed the laptop, and once again he was Tane Williams, not a fearless battlemage. Real life was waiting for him, full of just as much – if not more – excitement and opportunity as the game.
 
    For Hudson, beyond the game there was nothing but beeping machines and tiny pills, empty stomachs and patchy hair loss. It was a refuge where he could be the hero, instead of waiting for someone to save him. At least in *Tremania*, Hudson Brant could have a happy ending.
|
“Well, this has been delightful, but I’m afraid the fun is now over.”
“Rover? You can talk?” My one-time master’s last words faded into silence. I shook his throat back in forth in my teeth, then let go, satisfied.
I barked, signaling my human attendants to come and dispose of the body. Then I trotted over to my comfortable bed beside the throne and lay down after circling a few times.
Ahh, much better. I’d been sleeping in the forest for months now while my pawn made his way towards the castle. It wouldn’t be long before I had to go out again.
Already my paid bards would be telling new stories of a destined hero, someone to defeat the dark lord. In a few weeks, my spies would find someone handsome and strong, but not too bright. Then I would appear to them with a letter and a locket, saying that their royal inheritance has arrived.
I’m a huge white dog, with blue eyes that appear almost human in their intelligence. Practically a guardian angel. My pawn may refuse the call at first. They might be afraid. But I will always be there to comfort them, and nudge them forward.
And while the people wait for their hero to save them, they will never rise on their own.
______________________________________________________
23/365. Constructive criticism welcome and appreciated.
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[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
|
The both of us enter the throne room of the Dark Lord. As we gaze upon the empty throne, my companion says with a grin,
"Well... this has been delightful, milady. But I'm afraid the fun is now over."
“Yes... I suppose it is.”
I give him a nonchalant reply.
All these past few months we’ve traveled... From one town to the next, one dungeon to the next, all for ridding this world of the demonic scourge. It’s been difficult, that’s for sure. The quality of life is poor, away from the decent food and luxuries of my home town...
But you know what? I enjoyed every second of it. This little journey has been the first and only time I felt alive.
It hasn’t even been that long since I’ve come to know this boy, but he’s proven to be the single most trustworthy companion.
And here we are, at the end of it all... After the deed is done, I’ll most likely return to—
“Um... milady? That’s not what I meant...“
“Then what was it— Wait... you’re talking as if you’ve read my mind, boy... Are you hiding something from me?”
“It’s about the Creator, you see... He’s the type to write endings first, but this time, the ending hasn’t even been finalized yet... Or the final enemy, for that matter...”
“So you’re saying that this is it for now? No Dark Lord? No climactic battle? No fancy banquets?”
“Yes, that was what I meant to say.”
“And he’s publishing this? Unbelievable...”
“Indeed it is...”
|
Leah mopped her brow with the back of one hand and muttered a curse under her breath. She was tired, so tired. All she wanted was to go home and sleep for three days straight. Instead, she stood in the antechamber just outside the Dark Lord's throne room, wearing steel armor that did more to weigh her down than to protect her at this point, holding a sword she could barely lift from the ground, leaning on her best friend and lifelong companion because she no longer had the strength to stand on her own.
"We're almost there," the man next to her said. "It's almost over, your Majesty."
She frowned at him. "Alex, I told you not to call me that. Not out here where anyone could hear. If they knew I had been forced to take up arms..."
"It doesn't matter now," Alex responded with a tight grin. "As I said, it's almost over, anyway."
Together, the two of them stepped up to the final barrier, the last door in their way. It was suitably grandiose, a massive door of solid oak, inlaid with gold, silver, and precious gems plundered from the kingdoms conquered by the Dark Lord's armies, stretching up nearly to the distant ceiling, more than five times as tall as the two people standing before it. Leah took a moment to admire the craftsmanship, then glanced over at Alex and nodded. Together, the two of them threw their shoulders against the door and *shoved* with all their might. With a screech of ungreased hinges, it slowly swung open, revealing the throne room of the Dark Legion's master.
It was as lavish as the door would suggest, with marble floors inlaid with more gems and precious metals, and priceless works of art (all prizes taken from subdued rulers, of course) decorated the space. A scarlet silk rug stretched from the entryway to the dais, upon which stood a throne carved from solid obsidian. Where the rest of the room spoke of wealth and privilege, the throne radiated unyielding power.
The *empty* throne.
Leah stared up at the vacant throne for a long moment, then sighed, removing her helmet and tossing it to the floor with a loud clang of metal on stone. Her sword followed it, creating another echoing, metallic cacophany. She walked up to the edge of the dais and gazed at the obsidian monstrosity.
Behind her, Alex started chuckling. "Well, this has been delightful," he said with a smirk, "but I'm afraid the fun is now over."
Leah raised an eyebrow. "Whatever do you mean?" she asked without looking back. She ascended the steps of the dais and turned to face her companion, lowering herself into the obsidian throne. Once she was seated, she grinned.
"Those *heroes* think I sacrificed my life to save them. They have no idea of the truth. When they come charging in here all full of courage and zeal and then see me sitting upon the throne..." Her grin widened further, her exhaustion replaced with gleeful anticipation. "No, my friend, the fun is far from over."
The Dark Lord Leahryx chuckled as she settled in to wait for the coming confrontation. Alex grinned in response and bowed deeply.
"Of course, your Majesty. You are correct, as always."
(Rough and unedited but hey it's 1AM and I wanted to write this. And now I kind of want to continue it.)
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[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
|
As the hero enters the throne room of the Dark Lord, he finds the throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin, "Well, this has been delightful, but I'm afraid the fun is now over."
 
Adjusting his chat headset, Hudson sighed. “Dude, we’re so close. Can’t you stay on just another hour?”
    Tane shook his head, forgetting Hudson was miles away behind a computer screen and not right beside him. “Sorry, I really can’t. I’ve been putting off Finley for three days, and I’m finally taking her out tonight. She’ll lose it if I’m not ready by four.”
    “What?” Hudson yelped. “It’s just now nine in the morning!”
    “Hudson,” Tane said. “There’s a six-hour time difference between us, remember?”
    “Oh,” Hudson sighed. After a moment, he huffed, “Man, you’re really whipped.”
    “Nah, I’m just in *love*,” Tane teased, drawing it out. Hudson scoffed.
    “Shut up.” Hudson refocused his attention on the game and directed his armor-clad hero further into the throne room. “Come on, seriously. I want to find this bastard Dark Lord guy and see what he drops.”
    “It’s not even that good. My cousin played and- “
    “Shut up!” Hudson repeated. “Don’t ruin this for me.”
 
Tane glanced at the clock. He promised his girlfriend a fancy dinner date tonight, and he promised himself that he’d take a break from the addicting world of *Tremania* to spend time with real people instead of 3D orcs and warlocks. He knew Hudson, however, would spend all day immersed in the game. He’d never get out of his chair unless it was absolutely necessary, and even then, he’d often carry his laptop with him and continue playing. Tane was far less obsessed than Hudson was, but he could see how quickly the addiction could form.
 
     *Tremania* let you be anything you wanted, and Hudson transformed from a sick, cancer-weakened ex-football player to a mighty warrior with plenty of friends, plenty of fame, and plenty of fortune. He spent all his time immersed in the virtual world as the rest of his life slowly withered away.
Tane, who played a fierce mage character, used *Tremania* as a stress-relieving outlet. Between college, a serious girlfriend, a developing career, and an adventurous social life, Tane hardly had any time for himself. When he finally took a break, he explored dungeons and conquered hordes of monsters armed with only a mouse and a keyboard. He enjoyed his life, but he worried about Hudson.
 
    “Hey, Huds?” Tane spoke gently into his mic.
    “Yeah?” Hudson’s face was screwed up in concentration as he frantically searched for any clues to the level boss’s location.
    “How are you doing? Really.”
 
    Hudson stopped. His hands, cold from the lack of movement, stalled on his laptop’s keyboard. He looked over the oxygen tank sitting next to him, the dozens of little orange bottles that littered his desk, and the looseness of his tshirt that wasn’t there two months ago.
    “I’m better than ever, bro. Better than ever.” Hudson clicked a few more times and then a message popped up on the screen. “Got it!” He shouted. “Let’s go!”
 
    Tane’s phone buzzed. Without looking, he knew it was Finley asking if he was ready. “I can’t,” he said, moving his cursor to the red “Log Out” bar. “I’m really sorry. I’ll log back on tonight and we can do a couple dungeon raids, okay?”
    “Fine,” Hudson mumbled, already preoccupied with the boss battle. “See you then.”
 
Tane took off his headset and tossed it on his bed. With a click of his mouse, the throne room disappeared. He closed the laptop, and once again he was Tane Williams, not a fearless battlemage. Real life was waiting for him, full of just as much – if not more – excitement and opportunity as the game.
 
    For Hudson, beyond the game there was nothing but beeping machines and tiny pills, empty stomachs and patchy hair loss. It was a refuge where he could be the hero, instead of waiting for someone to save him. At least in *Tremania*, Hudson Brant could have a happy ending.
|
Leah mopped her brow with the back of one hand and muttered a curse under her breath. She was tired, so tired. All she wanted was to go home and sleep for three days straight. Instead, she stood in the antechamber just outside the Dark Lord's throne room, wearing steel armor that did more to weigh her down than to protect her at this point, holding a sword she could barely lift from the ground, leaning on her best friend and lifelong companion because she no longer had the strength to stand on her own.
"We're almost there," the man next to her said. "It's almost over, your Majesty."
She frowned at him. "Alex, I told you not to call me that. Not out here where anyone could hear. If they knew I had been forced to take up arms..."
"It doesn't matter now," Alex responded with a tight grin. "As I said, it's almost over, anyway."
Together, the two of them stepped up to the final barrier, the last door in their way. It was suitably grandiose, a massive door of solid oak, inlaid with gold, silver, and precious gems plundered from the kingdoms conquered by the Dark Lord's armies, stretching up nearly to the distant ceiling, more than five times as tall as the two people standing before it. Leah took a moment to admire the craftsmanship, then glanced over at Alex and nodded. Together, the two of them threw their shoulders against the door and *shoved* with all their might. With a screech of ungreased hinges, it slowly swung open, revealing the throne room of the Dark Legion's master.
It was as lavish as the door would suggest, with marble floors inlaid with more gems and precious metals, and priceless works of art (all prizes taken from subdued rulers, of course) decorated the space. A scarlet silk rug stretched from the entryway to the dais, upon which stood a throne carved from solid obsidian. Where the rest of the room spoke of wealth and privilege, the throne radiated unyielding power.
The *empty* throne.
Leah stared up at the vacant throne for a long moment, then sighed, removing her helmet and tossing it to the floor with a loud clang of metal on stone. Her sword followed it, creating another echoing, metallic cacophany. She walked up to the edge of the dais and gazed at the obsidian monstrosity.
Behind her, Alex started chuckling. "Well, this has been delightful," he said with a smirk, "but I'm afraid the fun is now over."
Leah raised an eyebrow. "Whatever do you mean?" she asked without looking back. She ascended the steps of the dais and turned to face her companion, lowering herself into the obsidian throne. Once she was seated, she grinned.
"Those *heroes* think I sacrificed my life to save them. They have no idea of the truth. When they come charging in here all full of courage and zeal and then see me sitting upon the throne..." Her grin widened further, her exhaustion replaced with gleeful anticipation. "No, my friend, the fun is far from over."
The Dark Lord Leahryx chuckled as she settled in to wait for the coming confrontation. Alex grinned in response and bowed deeply.
"Of course, your Majesty. You are correct, as always."
(Rough and unedited but hey it's 1AM and I wanted to write this. And now I kind of want to continue it.)
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[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
|
“Well, this has been delightful, but I’m afraid the fun is now over.”
Ferradin stopped midstride as he was walking towards the throne. "Wait, what?" he asked, turning to Brend.
A wide grin split Brend's face and he cackled madly. "This was fun while it lasted, but I must tell you now that we are finally here," the man said, gesturing to the hall. "You see, my real name is Lord Phair and I am in fact the Necromancer King." The pudgy man continued cackling. The noise simply didn't sound like something that should be erupting from the usually jolly man's lips.
Ferradin stepped back and gaped. "But-" he stammered, "That's impossible!"
"Oh it's quite possible, I assure you. Did you never notice how the skeletons never touched me? Or how the flicker of recognition in Duke Dralluke's eyes right before you staked him through his heart?" He asked. Lord Phair turned his back and ascended the dais. He sat heavily on the throne. "I do apologize for the charade, but trust me, it was necessary. Oh, and I am sorry about the real Brend." He whistled and a rotting, emaciated corpse shuffled into the room, stopping right before Lord Phair. It stared sightlessly forward, a pale shadow of the formerly chipper and kindly man.
"But it simply isn't possible!" Ferradin sputtered.
Lord Phair scowled. "Really, I know you're thick, but I would think you would be able to keep up. It is really quite simple. During the battle of Delrich Point I infilitrated the back lines and killed Brend. I then took his place."
Ferradin shook himself. "Yes, that I understand. The swap was obvious. Your stench is a lot different from Brend's usual body odor; you do realize you smell like rotting corpses, right? It's really not that hard to cover up, that sort of stench," Ferradin realized he was rambling and bit his lip. He thought a second and said, "What I can't understand is how you're the Necromancer King."
The Necromancer flared his nostrils and slouched back in the throne. "You've always an uncanny ability to ruin a perfectly good monologue," he mumbled. "It's not hard to understand," he said louder. "I killed Brend;" Ferradin nodded. "I pretended to be him;"
"Poorly," the hero mumbled.
"But I was the Necomancer King all along!" Phair spat, ignoring Ferradin's interjection.
"No you're not," Ferradin stated.
"Yes I am," Phair said, grinding his teeth.
"Except you *can't* be," Ferradin groused, "Because *I'm* the Necromancer King!"
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Edit 1: Wrong name and perspective.
Edit 2: Wording
|
I walked in the room with Cynthia. It was dark and cold and I could feel the death and pain that has happened in the very room I was standing in. I opened my palms and they were engulfed in flame. I looked around. I gasped loud when I saw it.
The throne. It was a dark wood. Most likely from the trees from the Black Forest. It was covered in knifes and blades. But one thing I noticed stood out to me. It was empty. Cynthia and I have traveled from realm to realm, from town to town, looking to fight the Dark Lord that threatened all of the worlds existence, and the chair was empty. I heard a small snicker, then it turned into a giggle, then it turned into the most terrifying sound I’ve ever heard. It was Cynthia.
I looked at her face. It was stone cold. Her eyes showed no emotion. Her face was pale. She laughed like a manic.
“Goodbye Jake.”
She pulled out a dagger and reared back. Time slowed to a halt and I tried to shield myself with my hands. Even when she was about to kill me, I denied it. The love of my life was the Dark Lord. She had a smile that went up to her cheeks. As a single tear escaped the blade cut through my armor and pierced my chest. I tried to say something. All that came out was a small croak.
“I loved you...”
I felt a warm liquid trickle down my body. I tried to inhale but nothing came in or out. I blinked once again but this time I couldn’t open my eyes. I hit the ground and then I felt nothing. Pure darkness. I heard nothing. Nothing at all. No ring, no noise, just silence. I tried to speak but it was like my mouth was sewn shut. I tried to move but I felt sick. I didn’t want to move. And even if I did I don’t think I would have been able to. I cried on the inside because the tears just wouldn’t come out. “I NEED A HEALER!”
The voice boomed throughout my body. I was confused. *gasp* I sat up. First thing I noticed was the dagger in my chest. Then I saw a mage standing over me with a bright light coming out of his finger tips. “You’re gonna be ok.” I shook my head. “Cynthia...” he looked shocked like he forgot to tell me something. “We know. She fled when we arrived but we’re going to catch her.” I laid there and cried. But at least I’m alive.
So I’m 11 and I’m a new writer that found this passion a year ago. Can anyone rate my writing cause if so that would be fantastic.
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[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
|
The both of us enter the throne room of the Dark Lord. As we gaze upon the empty throne, my companion says with a grin,
"Well... this has been delightful, milady. But I'm afraid the fun is now over."
“Yes... I suppose it is.”
I give him a nonchalant reply.
All these past few months we’ve traveled... From one town to the next, one dungeon to the next, all for ridding this world of the demonic scourge. It’s been difficult, that’s for sure. The quality of life is poor, away from the decent food and luxuries of my home town...
But you know what? I enjoyed every second of it. This little journey has been the first and only time I felt alive.
It hasn’t even been that long since I’ve come to know this boy, but he’s proven to be the single most trustworthy companion.
And here we are, at the end of it all... After the deed is done, I’ll most likely return to—
“Um... milady? That’s not what I meant...“
“Then what was it— Wait... you’re talking as if you’ve read my mind, boy... Are you hiding something from me?”
“It’s about the Creator, you see... He’s the type to write endings first, but this time, the ending hasn’t even been finalized yet... Or the final enemy, for that matter...”
“So you’re saying that this is it for now? No Dark Lord? No climactic battle? No fancy banquets?”
“Yes, that was what I meant to say.”
“And he’s publishing this? Unbelievable...”
“Indeed it is...”
|
I walked in the room with Cynthia. It was dark and cold and I could feel the death and pain that has happened in the very room I was standing in. I opened my palms and they were engulfed in flame. I looked around. I gasped loud when I saw it.
The throne. It was a dark wood. Most likely from the trees from the Black Forest. It was covered in knifes and blades. But one thing I noticed stood out to me. It was empty. Cynthia and I have traveled from realm to realm, from town to town, looking to fight the Dark Lord that threatened all of the worlds existence, and the chair was empty. I heard a small snicker, then it turned into a giggle, then it turned into the most terrifying sound I’ve ever heard. It was Cynthia.
I looked at her face. It was stone cold. Her eyes showed no emotion. Her face was pale. She laughed like a manic.
“Goodbye Jake.”
She pulled out a dagger and reared back. Time slowed to a halt and I tried to shield myself with my hands. Even when she was about to kill me, I denied it. The love of my life was the Dark Lord. She had a smile that went up to her cheeks. As a single tear escaped the blade cut through my armor and pierced my chest. I tried to say something. All that came out was a small croak.
“I loved you...”
I felt a warm liquid trickle down my body. I tried to inhale but nothing came in or out. I blinked once again but this time I couldn’t open my eyes. I hit the ground and then I felt nothing. Pure darkness. I heard nothing. Nothing at all. No ring, no noise, just silence. I tried to speak but it was like my mouth was sewn shut. I tried to move but I felt sick. I didn’t want to move. And even if I did I don’t think I would have been able to. I cried on the inside because the tears just wouldn’t come out. “I NEED A HEALER!”
The voice boomed throughout my body. I was confused. *gasp* I sat up. First thing I noticed was the dagger in my chest. Then I saw a mage standing over me with a bright light coming out of his finger tips. “You’re gonna be ok.” I shook my head. “Cynthia...” he looked shocked like he forgot to tell me something. “We know. She fled when we arrived but we’re going to catch her.” I laid there and cried. But at least I’m alive.
So I’m 11 and I’m a new writer that found this passion a year ago. Can anyone rate my writing cause if so that would be fantastic.
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|
[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
|
As the hero enters the throne room of the Dark Lord, he finds the throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin, "Well, this has been delightful, but I'm afraid the fun is now over."
 
Adjusting his chat headset, Hudson sighed. “Dude, we’re so close. Can’t you stay on just another hour?”
    Tane shook his head, forgetting Hudson was miles away behind a computer screen and not right beside him. “Sorry, I really can’t. I’ve been putting off Finley for three days, and I’m finally taking her out tonight. She’ll lose it if I’m not ready by four.”
    “What?” Hudson yelped. “It’s just now nine in the morning!”
    “Hudson,” Tane said. “There’s a six-hour time difference between us, remember?”
    “Oh,” Hudson sighed. After a moment, he huffed, “Man, you’re really whipped.”
    “Nah, I’m just in *love*,” Tane teased, drawing it out. Hudson scoffed.
    “Shut up.” Hudson refocused his attention on the game and directed his armor-clad hero further into the throne room. “Come on, seriously. I want to find this bastard Dark Lord guy and see what he drops.”
    “It’s not even that good. My cousin played and- “
    “Shut up!” Hudson repeated. “Don’t ruin this for me.”
 
Tane glanced at the clock. He promised his girlfriend a fancy dinner date tonight, and he promised himself that he’d take a break from the addicting world of *Tremania* to spend time with real people instead of 3D orcs and warlocks. He knew Hudson, however, would spend all day immersed in the game. He’d never get out of his chair unless it was absolutely necessary, and even then, he’d often carry his laptop with him and continue playing. Tane was far less obsessed than Hudson was, but he could see how quickly the addiction could form.
 
     *Tremania* let you be anything you wanted, and Hudson transformed from a sick, cancer-weakened ex-football player to a mighty warrior with plenty of friends, plenty of fame, and plenty of fortune. He spent all his time immersed in the virtual world as the rest of his life slowly withered away.
Tane, who played a fierce mage character, used *Tremania* as a stress-relieving outlet. Between college, a serious girlfriend, a developing career, and an adventurous social life, Tane hardly had any time for himself. When he finally took a break, he explored dungeons and conquered hordes of monsters armed with only a mouse and a keyboard. He enjoyed his life, but he worried about Hudson.
 
    “Hey, Huds?” Tane spoke gently into his mic.
    “Yeah?” Hudson’s face was screwed up in concentration as he frantically searched for any clues to the level boss’s location.
    “How are you doing? Really.”
 
    Hudson stopped. His hands, cold from the lack of movement, stalled on his laptop’s keyboard. He looked over the oxygen tank sitting next to him, the dozens of little orange bottles that littered his desk, and the looseness of his tshirt that wasn’t there two months ago.
    “I’m better than ever, bro. Better than ever.” Hudson clicked a few more times and then a message popped up on the screen. “Got it!” He shouted. “Let’s go!”
 
    Tane’s phone buzzed. Without looking, he knew it was Finley asking if he was ready. “I can’t,” he said, moving his cursor to the red “Log Out” bar. “I’m really sorry. I’ll log back on tonight and we can do a couple dungeon raids, okay?”
    “Fine,” Hudson mumbled, already preoccupied with the boss battle. “See you then.”
 
Tane took off his headset and tossed it on his bed. With a click of his mouse, the throne room disappeared. He closed the laptop, and once again he was Tane Williams, not a fearless battlemage. Real life was waiting for him, full of just as much – if not more – excitement and opportunity as the game.
 
    For Hudson, beyond the game there was nothing but beeping machines and tiny pills, empty stomachs and patchy hair loss. It was a refuge where he could be the hero, instead of waiting for someone to save him. At least in *Tremania*, Hudson Brant could have a happy ending.
|
I walked in the room with Cynthia. It was dark and cold and I could feel the death and pain that has happened in the very room I was standing in. I opened my palms and they were engulfed in flame. I looked around. I gasped loud when I saw it.
The throne. It was a dark wood. Most likely from the trees from the Black Forest. It was covered in knifes and blades. But one thing I noticed stood out to me. It was empty. Cynthia and I have traveled from realm to realm, from town to town, looking to fight the Dark Lord that threatened all of the worlds existence, and the chair was empty. I heard a small snicker, then it turned into a giggle, then it turned into the most terrifying sound I’ve ever heard. It was Cynthia.
I looked at her face. It was stone cold. Her eyes showed no emotion. Her face was pale. She laughed like a manic.
“Goodbye Jake.”
She pulled out a dagger and reared back. Time slowed to a halt and I tried to shield myself with my hands. Even when she was about to kill me, I denied it. The love of my life was the Dark Lord. She had a smile that went up to her cheeks. As a single tear escaped the blade cut through my armor and pierced my chest. I tried to say something. All that came out was a small croak.
“I loved you...”
I felt a warm liquid trickle down my body. I tried to inhale but nothing came in or out. I blinked once again but this time I couldn’t open my eyes. I hit the ground and then I felt nothing. Pure darkness. I heard nothing. Nothing at all. No ring, no noise, just silence. I tried to speak but it was like my mouth was sewn shut. I tried to move but I felt sick. I didn’t want to move. And even if I did I don’t think I would have been able to. I cried on the inside because the tears just wouldn’t come out. “I NEED A HEALER!”
The voice boomed throughout my body. I was confused. *gasp* I sat up. First thing I noticed was the dagger in my chest. Then I saw a mage standing over me with a bright light coming out of his finger tips. “You’re gonna be ok.” I shook my head. “Cynthia...” he looked shocked like he forgot to tell me something. “We know. She fled when we arrived but we’re going to catch her.” I laid there and cried. But at least I’m alive.
So I’m 11 and I’m a new writer that found this passion a year ago. Can anyone rate my writing cause if so that would be fantastic.
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[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
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The both of us enter the throne room of the Dark Lord. As we gaze upon the empty throne, my companion says with a grin,
"Well... this has been delightful, milady. But I'm afraid the fun is now over."
“Yes... I suppose it is.”
I give him a nonchalant reply.
All these past few months we’ve traveled... From one town to the next, one dungeon to the next, all for ridding this world of the demonic scourge. It’s been difficult, that’s for sure. The quality of life is poor, away from the decent food and luxuries of my home town...
But you know what? I enjoyed every second of it. This little journey has been the first and only time I felt alive.
It hasn’t even been that long since I’ve come to know this boy, but he’s proven to be the single most trustworthy companion.
And here we are, at the end of it all... After the deed is done, I’ll most likely return to—
“Um... milady? That’s not what I meant...“
“Then what was it— Wait... you’re talking as if you’ve read my mind, boy... Are you hiding something from me?”
“It’s about the Creator, you see... He’s the type to write endings first, but this time, the ending hasn’t even been finalized yet... Or the final enemy, for that matter...”
“So you’re saying that this is it for now? No Dark Lord? No climactic battle? No fancy banquets?”
“Yes, that was what I meant to say.”
“And he’s publishing this? Unbelievable...”
“Indeed it is...”
|
“Well, this has been delightful, but I’m afraid the fun is now over.”
Ferradin stopped midstride as he was walking towards the throne. "Wait, what?" he asked, turning to Brend.
A wide grin split Brend's face and he cackled madly. "This was fun while it lasted, but I must tell you now that we are finally here," the man said, gesturing to the hall. "You see, my real name is Lord Phair and I am in fact the Necromancer King." The pudgy man continued cackling. The noise simply didn't sound like something that should be erupting from the usually jolly man's lips.
Ferradin stepped back and gaped. "But-" he stammered, "That's impossible!"
"Oh it's quite possible, I assure you. Did you never notice how the skeletons never touched me? Or how the flicker of recognition in Duke Dralluke's eyes right before you staked him through his heart?" He asked. Lord Phair turned his back and ascended the dais. He sat heavily on the throne. "I do apologize for the charade, but trust me, it was necessary. Oh, and I am sorry about the real Brend." He whistled and a rotting, emaciated corpse shuffled into the room, stopping right before Lord Phair. It stared sightlessly forward, a pale shadow of the formerly chipper and kindly man.
"But it simply isn't possible!" Ferradin sputtered.
Lord Phair scowled. "Really, I know you're thick, but I would think you would be able to keep up. It is really quite simple. During the battle of Delrich Point I infilitrated the back lines and killed Brend. I then took his place."
Ferradin shook himself. "Yes, that I understand. The swap was obvious. Your stench is a lot different from Brend's usual body odor; you do realize you smell like rotting corpses, right? It's really not that hard to cover up, that sort of stench," Ferradin realized he was rambling and bit his lip. He thought a second and said, "What I can't understand is how you're the Necromancer King."
The Necromancer flared his nostrils and slouched back in the throne. "You've always an uncanny ability to ruin a perfectly good monologue," he mumbled. "It's not hard to understand," he said louder. "I killed Brend;" Ferradin nodded. "I pretended to be him;"
"Poorly," the hero mumbled.
"But I was the Necomancer King all along!" Phair spat, ignoring Ferradin's interjection.
"No you're not," Ferradin stated.
"Yes I am," Phair said, grinding his teeth.
"Except you *can't* be," Ferradin groused, "Because *I'm* the Necromancer King!"
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Edit 1: Wrong name and perspective.
Edit 2: Wording
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[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
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As the hero enters the throne room of the Dark Lord, he finds the throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin, "Well, this has been delightful, but I'm afraid the fun is now over."
 
Adjusting his chat headset, Hudson sighed. “Dude, we’re so close. Can’t you stay on just another hour?”
    Tane shook his head, forgetting Hudson was miles away behind a computer screen and not right beside him. “Sorry, I really can’t. I’ve been putting off Finley for three days, and I’m finally taking her out tonight. She’ll lose it if I’m not ready by four.”
    “What?” Hudson yelped. “It’s just now nine in the morning!”
    “Hudson,” Tane said. “There’s a six-hour time difference between us, remember?”
    “Oh,” Hudson sighed. After a moment, he huffed, “Man, you’re really whipped.”
    “Nah, I’m just in *love*,” Tane teased, drawing it out. Hudson scoffed.
    “Shut up.” Hudson refocused his attention on the game and directed his armor-clad hero further into the throne room. “Come on, seriously. I want to find this bastard Dark Lord guy and see what he drops.”
    “It’s not even that good. My cousin played and- “
    “Shut up!” Hudson repeated. “Don’t ruin this for me.”
 
Tane glanced at the clock. He promised his girlfriend a fancy dinner date tonight, and he promised himself that he’d take a break from the addicting world of *Tremania* to spend time with real people instead of 3D orcs and warlocks. He knew Hudson, however, would spend all day immersed in the game. He’d never get out of his chair unless it was absolutely necessary, and even then, he’d often carry his laptop with him and continue playing. Tane was far less obsessed than Hudson was, but he could see how quickly the addiction could form.
 
     *Tremania* let you be anything you wanted, and Hudson transformed from a sick, cancer-weakened ex-football player to a mighty warrior with plenty of friends, plenty of fame, and plenty of fortune. He spent all his time immersed in the virtual world as the rest of his life slowly withered away.
Tane, who played a fierce mage character, used *Tremania* as a stress-relieving outlet. Between college, a serious girlfriend, a developing career, and an adventurous social life, Tane hardly had any time for himself. When he finally took a break, he explored dungeons and conquered hordes of monsters armed with only a mouse and a keyboard. He enjoyed his life, but he worried about Hudson.
 
    “Hey, Huds?” Tane spoke gently into his mic.
    “Yeah?” Hudson’s face was screwed up in concentration as he frantically searched for any clues to the level boss’s location.
    “How are you doing? Really.”
 
    Hudson stopped. His hands, cold from the lack of movement, stalled on his laptop’s keyboard. He looked over the oxygen tank sitting next to him, the dozens of little orange bottles that littered his desk, and the looseness of his tshirt that wasn’t there two months ago.
    “I’m better than ever, bro. Better than ever.” Hudson clicked a few more times and then a message popped up on the screen. “Got it!” He shouted. “Let’s go!”
 
    Tane’s phone buzzed. Without looking, he knew it was Finley asking if he was ready. “I can’t,” he said, moving his cursor to the red “Log Out” bar. “I’m really sorry. I’ll log back on tonight and we can do a couple dungeon raids, okay?”
    “Fine,” Hudson mumbled, already preoccupied with the boss battle. “See you then.”
 
Tane took off his headset and tossed it on his bed. With a click of his mouse, the throne room disappeared. He closed the laptop, and once again he was Tane Williams, not a fearless battlemage. Real life was waiting for him, full of just as much – if not more – excitement and opportunity as the game.
 
    For Hudson, beyond the game there was nothing but beeping machines and tiny pills, empty stomachs and patchy hair loss. It was a refuge where he could be the hero, instead of waiting for someone to save him. At least in *Tremania*, Hudson Brant could have a happy ending.
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“Well, this has been delightful, but I’m afraid the fun is now over.”
Ferradin stopped midstride as he was walking towards the throne. "Wait, what?" he asked, turning to Brend.
A wide grin split Brend's face and he cackled madly. "This was fun while it lasted, but I must tell you now that we are finally here," the man said, gesturing to the hall. "You see, my real name is Lord Phair and I am in fact the Necromancer King." The pudgy man continued cackling. The noise simply didn't sound like something that should be erupting from the usually jolly man's lips.
Ferradin stepped back and gaped. "But-" he stammered, "That's impossible!"
"Oh it's quite possible, I assure you. Did you never notice how the skeletons never touched me? Or how the flicker of recognition in Duke Dralluke's eyes right before you staked him through his heart?" He asked. Lord Phair turned his back and ascended the dais. He sat heavily on the throne. "I do apologize for the charade, but trust me, it was necessary. Oh, and I am sorry about the real Brend." He whistled and a rotting, emaciated corpse shuffled into the room, stopping right before Lord Phair. It stared sightlessly forward, a pale shadow of the formerly chipper and kindly man.
"But it simply isn't possible!" Ferradin sputtered.
Lord Phair scowled. "Really, I know you're thick, but I would think you would be able to keep up. It is really quite simple. During the battle of Delrich Point I infilitrated the back lines and killed Brend. I then took his place."
Ferradin shook himself. "Yes, that I understand. The swap was obvious. Your stench is a lot different from Brend's usual body odor; you do realize you smell like rotting corpses, right? It's really not that hard to cover up, that sort of stench," Ferradin realized he was rambling and bit his lip. He thought a second and said, "What I can't understand is how you're the Necromancer King."
The Necromancer flared his nostrils and slouched back in the throne. "You've always an uncanny ability to ruin a perfectly good monologue," he mumbled. "It's not hard to understand," he said louder. "I killed Brend;" Ferradin nodded. "I pretended to be him;"
"Poorly," the hero mumbled.
"But I was the Necomancer King all along!" Phair spat, ignoring Ferradin's interjection.
"No you're not," Ferradin stated.
"Yes I am," Phair said, grinding his teeth.
"Except you *can't* be," Ferradin groused, "Because *I'm* the Necromancer King!"
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Edit 1: Wrong name and perspective.
Edit 2: Wording
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[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
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As the hero enters the throne room of the Dark Lord, he finds the throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin, "Well, this has been delightful, but I'm afraid the fun is now over."
 
Adjusting his chat headset, Hudson sighed. “Dude, we’re so close. Can’t you stay on just another hour?”
    Tane shook his head, forgetting Hudson was miles away behind a computer screen and not right beside him. “Sorry, I really can’t. I’ve been putting off Finley for three days, and I’m finally taking her out tonight. She’ll lose it if I’m not ready by four.”
    “What?” Hudson yelped. “It’s just now nine in the morning!”
    “Hudson,” Tane said. “There’s a six-hour time difference between us, remember?”
    “Oh,” Hudson sighed. After a moment, he huffed, “Man, you’re really whipped.”
    “Nah, I’m just in *love*,” Tane teased, drawing it out. Hudson scoffed.
    “Shut up.” Hudson refocused his attention on the game and directed his armor-clad hero further into the throne room. “Come on, seriously. I want to find this bastard Dark Lord guy and see what he drops.”
    “It’s not even that good. My cousin played and- “
    “Shut up!” Hudson repeated. “Don’t ruin this for me.”
 
Tane glanced at the clock. He promised his girlfriend a fancy dinner date tonight, and he promised himself that he’d take a break from the addicting world of *Tremania* to spend time with real people instead of 3D orcs and warlocks. He knew Hudson, however, would spend all day immersed in the game. He’d never get out of his chair unless it was absolutely necessary, and even then, he’d often carry his laptop with him and continue playing. Tane was far less obsessed than Hudson was, but he could see how quickly the addiction could form.
 
     *Tremania* let you be anything you wanted, and Hudson transformed from a sick, cancer-weakened ex-football player to a mighty warrior with plenty of friends, plenty of fame, and plenty of fortune. He spent all his time immersed in the virtual world as the rest of his life slowly withered away.
Tane, who played a fierce mage character, used *Tremania* as a stress-relieving outlet. Between college, a serious girlfriend, a developing career, and an adventurous social life, Tane hardly had any time for himself. When he finally took a break, he explored dungeons and conquered hordes of monsters armed with only a mouse and a keyboard. He enjoyed his life, but he worried about Hudson.
 
    “Hey, Huds?” Tane spoke gently into his mic.
    “Yeah?” Hudson’s face was screwed up in concentration as he frantically searched for any clues to the level boss’s location.
    “How are you doing? Really.”
 
    Hudson stopped. His hands, cold from the lack of movement, stalled on his laptop’s keyboard. He looked over the oxygen tank sitting next to him, the dozens of little orange bottles that littered his desk, and the looseness of his tshirt that wasn’t there two months ago.
    “I’m better than ever, bro. Better than ever.” Hudson clicked a few more times and then a message popped up on the screen. “Got it!” He shouted. “Let’s go!”
 
    Tane’s phone buzzed. Without looking, he knew it was Finley asking if he was ready. “I can’t,” he said, moving his cursor to the red “Log Out” bar. “I’m really sorry. I’ll log back on tonight and we can do a couple dungeon raids, okay?”
    “Fine,” Hudson mumbled, already preoccupied with the boss battle. “See you then.”
 
Tane took off his headset and tossed it on his bed. With a click of his mouse, the throne room disappeared. He closed the laptop, and once again he was Tane Williams, not a fearless battlemage. Real life was waiting for him, full of just as much – if not more – excitement and opportunity as the game.
 
    For Hudson, beyond the game there was nothing but beeping machines and tiny pills, empty stomachs and patchy hair loss. It was a refuge where he could be the hero, instead of waiting for someone to save him. At least in *Tremania*, Hudson Brant could have a happy ending.
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"No, you can't be..."
He laughed. Not the rich hearty laugh that she'd come to love. This one was cold. Empty. Devoid of any emotion.
Scratch that. It was full of one. Malice. "Oh, but I can, and I am." he laughed again, drawing his sword and pointing it at her throat. "And now, you are all alone."
"But... this doesn't make any sense. You. You helped me get here."
"Of course I did!" he said as if explaining this to a slow child. "To get you here alone."
"We killed your generals together. We... we stopped your army. You mean to tell me all of that was to get me alone? Why?"
"To kill you. Of course."
He turned his back on her, laughing again. She was angry. Humiliated. Confused. The collection of feelings were all melding inside of her. Slowly, an impish grin spread across her face, the kind that only a woman could wear when she knew she had her prey cornered. "That's really too bad for you."
He turned back to look at her, an eyebrow raised. "How do you figure?
She was laughing now.
"What's so funny?" he shouted. Angry.
She laughed louder, cackling now.
His rage was apparent now. He swung his sword at her, missing by a few inches, yet she continued to laugh at him. To taunt him. "What's so damn funny?!"
"I was gonna rock your world," she said, sneering. "When we stopped this, I was gonna give you a night you would never forget."
"I--uh--what?" he said, lowering his sword in confusion. That was always the curse of men. It wasn't hubrus, vanity or greed. It was lust. Simple. Animalistic. Basic.
"Well," she said, drawing her crossbow and aiming it at his heart. "This has been delightful, but I'm afraid the fun is now over."
*edit for formatting.
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[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
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The throne room guardians weren't real statues, but they didn't attack. Their stone necks rumbled deeply as their faceless helmets tracked The Hero as he passed with ginger footsteps. That wasn't right at all, as every instinct sparked to naught but confusion.
Through the archway, into the hall, a square cathedral of dust, the glittering radiance of the hero completely out of place. Smoke-grey light wafted onto dark grey walls and floors, soft breaking upon sharp, and sharpest of all was the jagged throne unfolded from mortar at the end of the room. It was empty.
Where was the dark lord? After all of this, he wouldn't skip out on the final confrontation, give up everything, would he? This was supposed to be it. It should all be over after this. One final confrontation, and no more. No more beasts, no more strife, no more hunting, no more inspiring men, no more fighting. Win or die this was going to be the end of The Hero's job, so where was The Great Darkness?
The Hero's jaw clenched, his grip on his sword trembled. The cold steel cracked as he tightened his fist. His companion smirked and skipped ahead of him, towards the throne. Her previous caution slipped away like rain off of oiled leather. The Hero froze, eyes stuck, glaring. It was just him and her, in the setting of the final combat, but her of all people?
“Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over,” she crooned, turning back towards him on her heels. Her steps clacked and echoed in the dim, open hall, as she stepped back towards him, one at a time, toe to heel. That playful grin had rarely left her face, but as she licked her teeth the fangs were obvious now. The grey light filtered through her green silk, which danced around her curves with a wind only felt by them.
“You? After all this time...” The Hero's eyes burned. “Why did you do this? After all I've been through? You could have killed me when I slept in your arms after...” And he was on top of her, the echoing crash of plate armor on stone giving way to the softer trembling of the chain mail closer to his skin, heaving with his breaths.
“This again already, hmm? You're insatiable. Though I do suppose we're due for a little bit of celebration,” That feminine giggle and smirk held no fear behind it, as if there wasn't a blessed sword blade at her throat, but how good of a liar was she really? She was The Great Darkness that had blighted the land and enslaved the people, the mighty warlord The Hero had given so much to overthrow, so many deaths, so many sacrifices, so tired.
“To torture me, then. That's what this all was. You Could escape me any moment you want, even now, but you're just taunting me, witch. What are you?”
“Oh master. You got it all wrong! Wow, it feels so funny saying that, hee!”
“Master?”
She wiggled under his blade, but it didn't seem to him to be an action of discomfort. “The sweetie nice guy stuff was nice for a change, but this stuff is what made me really fall for you. I missed it a lot, master.” Her eyes were half closed, and she licked her lips. Her legs batted playfully at his, and that giggling just constant throughout. He relaxed the blade. “Are your memories starting to come back yet?”
His expression darkened. “What memories?”
“Oh. Poor master. Well, this whole little game didn't last as long as you planned for. Master is even more amazing than he thought! That's just like you. So smart! So powerful!” Her fingernails traced a scraping line on his armor, visibly tarnished now, and tarnishing. “You needed a way to pull those resistance leaders out of hiding, and you made them and your scheming, disloyal generals butcher each other. Who else but my deliciously cruel master would think to give the people a shining light to rally to, only to take it away like this? Master is truly the Lord of Pain and Domination. My master. My Great Darkness.” She pushed past his blade and kissed him like a drowning man gasping for air. A trickle of blood went down her neck, unregarded.
The Hero's sword clattered to the floor. It glittered in the soft cathedral-dust light. After a moment it shattered.
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"No, you can't be..."
He laughed. Not the rich hearty laugh that she'd come to love. This one was cold. Empty. Devoid of any emotion.
Scratch that. It was full of one. Malice. "Oh, but I can, and I am." he laughed again, drawing his sword and pointing it at her throat. "And now, you are all alone."
"But... this doesn't make any sense. You. You helped me get here."
"Of course I did!" he said as if explaining this to a slow child. "To get you here alone."
"We killed your generals together. We... we stopped your army. You mean to tell me all of that was to get me alone? Why?"
"To kill you. Of course."
He turned his back on her, laughing again. She was angry. Humiliated. Confused. The collection of feelings were all melding inside of her. Slowly, an impish grin spread across her face, the kind that only a woman could wear when she knew she had her prey cornered. "That's really too bad for you."
He turned back to look at her, an eyebrow raised. "How do you figure?
She was laughing now.
"What's so funny?" he shouted. Angry.
She laughed louder, cackling now.
His rage was apparent now. He swung his sword at her, missing by a few inches, yet she continued to laugh at him. To taunt him. "What's so damn funny?!"
"I was gonna rock your world," she said, sneering. "When we stopped this, I was gonna give you a night you would never forget."
"I--uh--what?" he said, lowering his sword in confusion. That was always the curse of men. It wasn't hubrus, vanity or greed. It was lust. Simple. Animalistic. Basic.
"Well," she said, drawing her crossbow and aiming it at his heart. "This has been delightful, but I'm afraid the fun is now over."
*edit for formatting.
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[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
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With a satisfying *SHLUNK*, the WyrmBeast falls to the floor. I wipe its blood off my vorpal blade and quickly crouch at Ryn's side.
"No..." I breathe, watching her lithe body for some sign of life. She had managed one last spell - *Wind of Flame* - before I heard her scream, piercing and full of fear, as the demonling had charged her. I hadn't had a chance to see what had happened, had prayed that the spell had stopped the creature before it could corrupt her...
"Ryn, please...we're so close...this is the last door."
It was strange. She clearly was not breathing, but her robes were intact, there was no Glyph of Darkness on her head. But if she had not succumbed to the cursed bite of the demonling, what had killed her?
I bow my head. "Please, Ryn," I whisper, "Don't die." Warm wetness wells up in my eyes; a single tear fall from my face. It glistens in the dim torchlight, fragile and pure, and lands mutely on the mage's cheek. My comrade-in-arms. My companion. My *friend*.
Impossibly, her eyelids fly open, and I see the vibrant jade of her irises looking up at me. Her face twitches for a moment, and then...she laughs.
It is an awful sound. A harsh cackle that echoes off the walls of the catacombs. She pauses to catch her breath, then begins anew.
My hand tightens on the hilt of my weapon. Could I have missed the sign somehow? Or is this some other curse that is taking her over? A ward of madness placed on the spell book we had found in the alchemist's quarters, perhaps...
And still, the laughing - the cackling - continues, wracking her delicate frame. Tears stream down her face. She gasps, "I'm...I'm so sorry. I'm sorry."
Releasing my weapon, I brush back her hood, the ebon tresses lost in the black cloth. "Why? What are you sorry for?"
"I tried. I really, really did. I kept a straight face through your whole, stupid speech. And *wow*, what a speech it was. When they taught you swordsmanship, did they also train you in words to say to your fallen comrade? Because, I mean...you ticked all the boxes, Straumn, you really did."
Her voice changed to a soprano simper. "No, please, oh, we're so close, oh, don't die, oh Ryn, oh gosh, I'm going to cry..."
She smirked. "I was this close. *This* close to keeping it together. And then you *cried* on me! Your big dopey tear splashed on me and part of it went up my nose! I mean...come ON! I may be the Dark Lady of Myr Tower, but I'm not made of *stone*!"
I stared at her, agape.
"Oh, geez. You still hadn't figured it out? Here, let me help you connect the dots."
Before I could react, the copper doors to my left burst open, and air sucked us into the room inside.
"See? Nobody home," she said, gesturing broadly at the empty throne on the dais against the far wall. "But I did want to thank you for helping me identify vulnerabilities in my defenses and weeding out the weakest of my followers. This really has been delightful - but I'm afraid the fun is now over."
The room goes black and I hear her begin to chant.
* * *
/r/ShadowsofClouds
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"No, you can't be..."
He laughed. Not the rich hearty laugh that she'd come to love. This one was cold. Empty. Devoid of any emotion.
Scratch that. It was full of one. Malice. "Oh, but I can, and I am." he laughed again, drawing his sword and pointing it at her throat. "And now, you are all alone."
"But... this doesn't make any sense. You. You helped me get here."
"Of course I did!" he said as if explaining this to a slow child. "To get you here alone."
"We killed your generals together. We... we stopped your army. You mean to tell me all of that was to get me alone? Why?"
"To kill you. Of course."
He turned his back on her, laughing again. She was angry. Humiliated. Confused. The collection of feelings were all melding inside of her. Slowly, an impish grin spread across her face, the kind that only a woman could wear when she knew she had her prey cornered. "That's really too bad for you."
He turned back to look at her, an eyebrow raised. "How do you figure?
She was laughing now.
"What's so funny?" he shouted. Angry.
She laughed louder, cackling now.
His rage was apparent now. He swung his sword at her, missing by a few inches, yet she continued to laugh at him. To taunt him. "What's so damn funny?!"
"I was gonna rock your world," she said, sneering. "When we stopped this, I was gonna give you a night you would never forget."
"I--uh--what?" he said, lowering his sword in confusion. That was always the curse of men. It wasn't hubrus, vanity or greed. It was lust. Simple. Animalistic. Basic.
"Well," she said, drawing her crossbow and aiming it at his heart. "This has been delightful, but I'm afraid the fun is now over."
*edit for formatting.
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[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
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"And you were doing so well: you figured out the riddle, got the scroll, and even managed to defeat my Golem. I must say I am impressed, Gilder, but now this game has run its course. You never would have expected your faithful friend, Decepto, of betrayal, but now I have you in-"
Decepto suddenly could not speak, he reached towards his throat and could feel a large dagger protruding from his neck. He could also feel warm blood pour through his hands before falling to his knees and then the ground, his armor making a loud clanging noise as it crashed to the ground. Gilder watched as Decepto gurgled and coughed his last breath, he held another dagger at the ready just in case.
The many men waiting in ambush came out from their hiding spots, screaming with their swords drawn. They all halted in their tracks, however, when they saw their master in a pool of his own blood.
"You... you killed our lord, ruler of darkness, king of chaos, master of all things e-" Gilder threw another dagger right at the follower's neck.
"Anyone else?" Gilder said pulling out another or a seemingly endless supply of daggers.
"Well Hero," said another follower with the good sense to drop his sword first. "How long did you suspect Decepto's treachery?"
"The name Decepto never really sat right with me to begin with, but really he had a tendency to say stuff like 'All in good time my *friend*' or 'We *both* shall be wetting our blades before long' and then laughing. He just never seemed above board." Gilder walked over to the two bodies and retrieved his two daggers from their respective necks. "Believe me, when you've been heroing as long as I have, you pick up on stuff like this."
The follower buried his head in his hands and rubbed his eyes in embarrassment. "And you just killed him? And one of his acolytes? What about honor, duty, fairness? I thought knights are supposed to be merciful, not just kill on a wh- SERIOUSLY! I'm not even armed!"
The follower narrowly dodged the dagger and it went clattering into the corner.
"Believe me doing it this way saves a lot of headaches"
"God, you're worse than Decepto!"
"Hey, you guys were going to kill *me*."
"We were going to ask you to join us! He was gonna make you second in command. I mean we expected that you'd turn us down but..."
"Aw man seriously, I totally would have gone for that, do you know how much traveling a Hero does? I could have really gone for a throne job. Any chance we can still make that happen? Your cult doesn't dabble in necromancy does it?"
"Wow, I really hate you."
|
"No, you can't be..."
He laughed. Not the rich hearty laugh that she'd come to love. This one was cold. Empty. Devoid of any emotion.
Scratch that. It was full of one. Malice. "Oh, but I can, and I am." he laughed again, drawing his sword and pointing it at her throat. "And now, you are all alone."
"But... this doesn't make any sense. You. You helped me get here."
"Of course I did!" he said as if explaining this to a slow child. "To get you here alone."
"We killed your generals together. We... we stopped your army. You mean to tell me all of that was to get me alone? Why?"
"To kill you. Of course."
He turned his back on her, laughing again. She was angry. Humiliated. Confused. The collection of feelings were all melding inside of her. Slowly, an impish grin spread across her face, the kind that only a woman could wear when she knew she had her prey cornered. "That's really too bad for you."
He turned back to look at her, an eyebrow raised. "How do you figure?
She was laughing now.
"What's so funny?" he shouted. Angry.
She laughed louder, cackling now.
His rage was apparent now. He swung his sword at her, missing by a few inches, yet she continued to laugh at him. To taunt him. "What's so damn funny?!"
"I was gonna rock your world," she said, sneering. "When we stopped this, I was gonna give you a night you would never forget."
"I--uh--what?" he said, lowering his sword in confusion. That was always the curse of men. It wasn't hubrus, vanity or greed. It was lust. Simple. Animalistic. Basic.
"Well," she said, drawing her crossbow and aiming it at his heart. "This has been delightful, but I'm afraid the fun is now over."
*edit for formatting.
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[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
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As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over."
The hero turned to his companion with a glare and disappointment only a 5 year old crown prince with a wood sword can produce.
“But dad! We didn’t fight the dragonking yet!”
“Its way past your bed time my little hero!” The king kneeled down and took the sword from him and lifted him up. “ You mum would kill me if I let you stay up any longer. We can finish next week. I promise.” The king carried his little boy as the boy started to yawn towards the bedchamber. Behind them the knights that was lying spread across the hallway looked up disappointed, this Saturday evening adventures of the crown princes had been their highlights of the week. Last week they had been zombies, the week before orcs. Today they had been lizard people.
|
"No, you can't be..."
He laughed. Not the rich hearty laugh that she'd come to love. This one was cold. Empty. Devoid of any emotion.
Scratch that. It was full of one. Malice. "Oh, but I can, and I am." he laughed again, drawing his sword and pointing it at her throat. "And now, you are all alone."
"But... this doesn't make any sense. You. You helped me get here."
"Of course I did!" he said as if explaining this to a slow child. "To get you here alone."
"We killed your generals together. We... we stopped your army. You mean to tell me all of that was to get me alone? Why?"
"To kill you. Of course."
He turned his back on her, laughing again. She was angry. Humiliated. Confused. The collection of feelings were all melding inside of her. Slowly, an impish grin spread across her face, the kind that only a woman could wear when she knew she had her prey cornered. "That's really too bad for you."
He turned back to look at her, an eyebrow raised. "How do you figure?
She was laughing now.
"What's so funny?" he shouted. Angry.
She laughed louder, cackling now.
His rage was apparent now. He swung his sword at her, missing by a few inches, yet she continued to laugh at him. To taunt him. "What's so damn funny?!"
"I was gonna rock your world," she said, sneering. "When we stopped this, I was gonna give you a night you would never forget."
"I--uh--what?" he said, lowering his sword in confusion. That was always the curse of men. It wasn't hubrus, vanity or greed. It was lust. Simple. Animalistic. Basic.
"Well," she said, drawing her crossbow and aiming it at his heart. "This has been delightful, but I'm afraid the fun is now over."
*edit for formatting.
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[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
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As the hero enters the throne room of the Dark Lord, he finds the throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin, "Well, this has been delightful, but I'm afraid the fun is now over."
 
Adjusting his chat headset, Hudson sighed. “Dude, we’re so close. Can’t you stay on just another hour?”
    Tane shook his head, forgetting Hudson was miles away behind a computer screen and not right beside him. “Sorry, I really can’t. I’ve been putting off Finley for three days, and I’m finally taking her out tonight. She’ll lose it if I’m not ready by four.”
    “What?” Hudson yelped. “It’s just now nine in the morning!”
    “Hudson,” Tane said. “There’s a six-hour time difference between us, remember?”
    “Oh,” Hudson sighed. After a moment, he huffed, “Man, you’re really whipped.”
    “Nah, I’m just in *love*,” Tane teased, drawing it out. Hudson scoffed.
    “Shut up.” Hudson refocused his attention on the game and directed his armor-clad hero further into the throne room. “Come on, seriously. I want to find this bastard Dark Lord guy and see what he drops.”
    “It’s not even that good. My cousin played and- “
    “Shut up!” Hudson repeated. “Don’t ruin this for me.”
 
Tane glanced at the clock. He promised his girlfriend a fancy dinner date tonight, and he promised himself that he’d take a break from the addicting world of *Tremania* to spend time with real people instead of 3D orcs and warlocks. He knew Hudson, however, would spend all day immersed in the game. He’d never get out of his chair unless it was absolutely necessary, and even then, he’d often carry his laptop with him and continue playing. Tane was far less obsessed than Hudson was, but he could see how quickly the addiction could form.
 
     *Tremania* let you be anything you wanted, and Hudson transformed from a sick, cancer-weakened ex-football player to a mighty warrior with plenty of friends, plenty of fame, and plenty of fortune. He spent all his time immersed in the virtual world as the rest of his life slowly withered away.
Tane, who played a fierce mage character, used *Tremania* as a stress-relieving outlet. Between college, a serious girlfriend, a developing career, and an adventurous social life, Tane hardly had any time for himself. When he finally took a break, he explored dungeons and conquered hordes of monsters armed with only a mouse and a keyboard. He enjoyed his life, but he worried about Hudson.
 
    “Hey, Huds?” Tane spoke gently into his mic.
    “Yeah?” Hudson’s face was screwed up in concentration as he frantically searched for any clues to the level boss’s location.
    “How are you doing? Really.”
 
    Hudson stopped. His hands, cold from the lack of movement, stalled on his laptop’s keyboard. He looked over the oxygen tank sitting next to him, the dozens of little orange bottles that littered his desk, and the looseness of his tshirt that wasn’t there two months ago.
    “I’m better than ever, bro. Better than ever.” Hudson clicked a few more times and then a message popped up on the screen. “Got it!” He shouted. “Let’s go!”
 
    Tane’s phone buzzed. Without looking, he knew it was Finley asking if he was ready. “I can’t,” he said, moving his cursor to the red “Log Out” bar. “I’m really sorry. I’ll log back on tonight and we can do a couple dungeon raids, okay?”
    “Fine,” Hudson mumbled, already preoccupied with the boss battle. “See you then.”
 
Tane took off his headset and tossed it on his bed. With a click of his mouse, the throne room disappeared. He closed the laptop, and once again he was Tane Williams, not a fearless battlemage. Real life was waiting for him, full of just as much – if not more – excitement and opportunity as the game.
 
    For Hudson, beyond the game there was nothing but beeping machines and tiny pills, empty stomachs and patchy hair loss. It was a refuge where he could be the hero, instead of waiting for someone to save him. At least in *Tremania*, Hudson Brant could have a happy ending.
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The both of us enter the throne room of the Dark Lord. As we gaze upon the empty throne, my companion says with a grin,
"Well... this has been delightful, milady. But I'm afraid the fun is now over."
“Yes... I suppose it is.”
I give him a nonchalant reply.
All these past few months we’ve traveled... From one town to the next, one dungeon to the next, all for ridding this world of the demonic scourge. It’s been difficult, that’s for sure. The quality of life is poor, away from the decent food and luxuries of my home town...
But you know what? I enjoyed every second of it. This little journey has been the first and only time I felt alive.
It hasn’t even been that long since I’ve come to know this boy, but he’s proven to be the single most trustworthy companion.
And here we are, at the end of it all... After the deed is done, I’ll most likely return to—
“Um... milady? That’s not what I meant...“
“Then what was it— Wait... you’re talking as if you’ve read my mind, boy... Are you hiding something from me?”
“It’s about the Creator, you see... He’s the type to write endings first, but this time, the ending hasn’t even been finalized yet... Or the final enemy, for that matter...”
“So you’re saying that this is it for now? No Dark Lord? No climactic battle? No fancy banquets?”
“Yes, that was what I meant to say.”
“And he’s publishing this? Unbelievable...”
“Indeed it is...”
|
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[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
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As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over."
The hero turned to his companion with a glare and disappointment only a 5 year old crown prince with a wood sword can produce.
“But dad! We didn’t fight the dragonking yet!”
“Its way past your bed time my little hero!” The king kneeled down and took the sword from him and lifted him up. “ You mum would kill me if I let you stay up any longer. We can finish next week. I promise.” The king carried his little boy as the boy started to yawn towards the bedchamber. Behind them the knights that was lying spread across the hallway looked up disappointed, this Saturday evening adventures of the crown princes had been their highlights of the week. Last week they had been zombies, the week before orcs. Today they had been lizard people.
|
The throne room guardians weren't real statues, but they didn't attack. Their stone necks rumbled deeply as their faceless helmets tracked The Hero as he passed with ginger footsteps. That wasn't right at all, as every instinct sparked to naught but confusion.
Through the archway, into the hall, a square cathedral of dust, the glittering radiance of the hero completely out of place. Smoke-grey light wafted onto dark grey walls and floors, soft breaking upon sharp, and sharpest of all was the jagged throne unfolded from mortar at the end of the room. It was empty.
Where was the dark lord? After all of this, he wouldn't skip out on the final confrontation, give up everything, would he? This was supposed to be it. It should all be over after this. One final confrontation, and no more. No more beasts, no more strife, no more hunting, no more inspiring men, no more fighting. Win or die this was going to be the end of The Hero's job, so where was The Great Darkness?
The Hero's jaw clenched, his grip on his sword trembled. The cold steel cracked as he tightened his fist. His companion smirked and skipped ahead of him, towards the throne. Her previous caution slipped away like rain off of oiled leather. The Hero froze, eyes stuck, glaring. It was just him and her, in the setting of the final combat, but her of all people?
“Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over,” she crooned, turning back towards him on her heels. Her steps clacked and echoed in the dim, open hall, as she stepped back towards him, one at a time, toe to heel. That playful grin had rarely left her face, but as she licked her teeth the fangs were obvious now. The grey light filtered through her green silk, which danced around her curves with a wind only felt by them.
“You? After all this time...” The Hero's eyes burned. “Why did you do this? After all I've been through? You could have killed me when I slept in your arms after...” And he was on top of her, the echoing crash of plate armor on stone giving way to the softer trembling of the chain mail closer to his skin, heaving with his breaths.
“This again already, hmm? You're insatiable. Though I do suppose we're due for a little bit of celebration,” That feminine giggle and smirk held no fear behind it, as if there wasn't a blessed sword blade at her throat, but how good of a liar was she really? She was The Great Darkness that had blighted the land and enslaved the people, the mighty warlord The Hero had given so much to overthrow, so many deaths, so many sacrifices, so tired.
“To torture me, then. That's what this all was. You Could escape me any moment you want, even now, but you're just taunting me, witch. What are you?”
“Oh master. You got it all wrong! Wow, it feels so funny saying that, hee!”
“Master?”
She wiggled under his blade, but it didn't seem to him to be an action of discomfort. “The sweetie nice guy stuff was nice for a change, but this stuff is what made me really fall for you. I missed it a lot, master.” Her eyes were half closed, and she licked her lips. Her legs batted playfully at his, and that giggling just constant throughout. He relaxed the blade. “Are your memories starting to come back yet?”
His expression darkened. “What memories?”
“Oh. Poor master. Well, this whole little game didn't last as long as you planned for. Master is even more amazing than he thought! That's just like you. So smart! So powerful!” Her fingernails traced a scraping line on his armor, visibly tarnished now, and tarnishing. “You needed a way to pull those resistance leaders out of hiding, and you made them and your scheming, disloyal generals butcher each other. Who else but my deliciously cruel master would think to give the people a shining light to rally to, only to take it away like this? Master is truly the Lord of Pain and Domination. My master. My Great Darkness.” She pushed past his blade and kissed him like a drowning man gasping for air. A trickle of blood went down her neck, unregarded.
The Hero's sword clattered to the floor. It glittered in the soft cathedral-dust light. After a moment it shattered.
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[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
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"And you were doing so well: you figured out the riddle, got the scroll, and even managed to defeat my Golem. I must say I am impressed, Gilder, but now this game has run its course. You never would have expected your faithful friend, Decepto, of betrayal, but now I have you in-"
Decepto suddenly could not speak, he reached towards his throat and could feel a large dagger protruding from his neck. He could also feel warm blood pour through his hands before falling to his knees and then the ground, his armor making a loud clanging noise as it crashed to the ground. Gilder watched as Decepto gurgled and coughed his last breath, he held another dagger at the ready just in case.
The many men waiting in ambush came out from their hiding spots, screaming with their swords drawn. They all halted in their tracks, however, when they saw their master in a pool of his own blood.
"You... you killed our lord, ruler of darkness, king of chaos, master of all things e-" Gilder threw another dagger right at the follower's neck.
"Anyone else?" Gilder said pulling out another or a seemingly endless supply of daggers.
"Well Hero," said another follower with the good sense to drop his sword first. "How long did you suspect Decepto's treachery?"
"The name Decepto never really sat right with me to begin with, but really he had a tendency to say stuff like 'All in good time my *friend*' or 'We *both* shall be wetting our blades before long' and then laughing. He just never seemed above board." Gilder walked over to the two bodies and retrieved his two daggers from their respective necks. "Believe me, when you've been heroing as long as I have, you pick up on stuff like this."
The follower buried his head in his hands and rubbed his eyes in embarrassment. "And you just killed him? And one of his acolytes? What about honor, duty, fairness? I thought knights are supposed to be merciful, not just kill on a wh- SERIOUSLY! I'm not even armed!"
The follower narrowly dodged the dagger and it went clattering into the corner.
"Believe me doing it this way saves a lot of headaches"
"God, you're worse than Decepto!"
"Hey, you guys were going to kill *me*."
"We were going to ask you to join us! He was gonna make you second in command. I mean we expected that you'd turn us down but..."
"Aw man seriously, I totally would have gone for that, do you know how much traveling a Hero does? I could have really gone for a throne job. Any chance we can still make that happen? Your cult doesn't dabble in necromancy does it?"
"Wow, I really hate you."
|
With a satisfying *SHLUNK*, the WyrmBeast falls to the floor. I wipe its blood off my vorpal blade and quickly crouch at Ryn's side.
"No..." I breathe, watching her lithe body for some sign of life. She had managed one last spell - *Wind of Flame* - before I heard her scream, piercing and full of fear, as the demonling had charged her. I hadn't had a chance to see what had happened, had prayed that the spell had stopped the creature before it could corrupt her...
"Ryn, please...we're so close...this is the last door."
It was strange. She clearly was not breathing, but her robes were intact, there was no Glyph of Darkness on her head. But if she had not succumbed to the cursed bite of the demonling, what had killed her?
I bow my head. "Please, Ryn," I whisper, "Don't die." Warm wetness wells up in my eyes; a single tear fall from my face. It glistens in the dim torchlight, fragile and pure, and lands mutely on the mage's cheek. My comrade-in-arms. My companion. My *friend*.
Impossibly, her eyelids fly open, and I see the vibrant jade of her irises looking up at me. Her face twitches for a moment, and then...she laughs.
It is an awful sound. A harsh cackle that echoes off the walls of the catacombs. She pauses to catch her breath, then begins anew.
My hand tightens on the hilt of my weapon. Could I have missed the sign somehow? Or is this some other curse that is taking her over? A ward of madness placed on the spell book we had found in the alchemist's quarters, perhaps...
And still, the laughing - the cackling - continues, wracking her delicate frame. Tears stream down her face. She gasps, "I'm...I'm so sorry. I'm sorry."
Releasing my weapon, I brush back her hood, the ebon tresses lost in the black cloth. "Why? What are you sorry for?"
"I tried. I really, really did. I kept a straight face through your whole, stupid speech. And *wow*, what a speech it was. When they taught you swordsmanship, did they also train you in words to say to your fallen comrade? Because, I mean...you ticked all the boxes, Straumn, you really did."
Her voice changed to a soprano simper. "No, please, oh, we're so close, oh, don't die, oh Ryn, oh gosh, I'm going to cry..."
She smirked. "I was this close. *This* close to keeping it together. And then you *cried* on me! Your big dopey tear splashed on me and part of it went up my nose! I mean...come ON! I may be the Dark Lady of Myr Tower, but I'm not made of *stone*!"
I stared at her, agape.
"Oh, geez. You still hadn't figured it out? Here, let me help you connect the dots."
Before I could react, the copper doors to my left burst open, and air sucked us into the room inside.
"See? Nobody home," she said, gesturing broadly at the empty throne on the dais against the far wall. "But I did want to thank you for helping me identify vulnerabilities in my defenses and weeding out the weakest of my followers. This really has been delightful - but I'm afraid the fun is now over."
The room goes black and I hear her begin to chant.
* * *
/r/ShadowsofClouds
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[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
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As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over."
The hero turned to his companion with a glare and disappointment only a 5 year old crown prince with a wood sword can produce.
“But dad! We didn’t fight the dragonking yet!”
“Its way past your bed time my little hero!” The king kneeled down and took the sword from him and lifted him up. “ You mum would kill me if I let you stay up any longer. We can finish next week. I promise.” The king carried his little boy as the boy started to yawn towards the bedchamber. Behind them the knights that was lying spread across the hallway looked up disappointed, this Saturday evening adventures of the crown princes had been their highlights of the week. Last week they had been zombies, the week before orcs. Today they had been lizard people.
|
With a satisfying *SHLUNK*, the WyrmBeast falls to the floor. I wipe its blood off my vorpal blade and quickly crouch at Ryn's side.
"No..." I breathe, watching her lithe body for some sign of life. She had managed one last spell - *Wind of Flame* - before I heard her scream, piercing and full of fear, as the demonling had charged her. I hadn't had a chance to see what had happened, had prayed that the spell had stopped the creature before it could corrupt her...
"Ryn, please...we're so close...this is the last door."
It was strange. She clearly was not breathing, but her robes were intact, there was no Glyph of Darkness on her head. But if she had not succumbed to the cursed bite of the demonling, what had killed her?
I bow my head. "Please, Ryn," I whisper, "Don't die." Warm wetness wells up in my eyes; a single tear fall from my face. It glistens in the dim torchlight, fragile and pure, and lands mutely on the mage's cheek. My comrade-in-arms. My companion. My *friend*.
Impossibly, her eyelids fly open, and I see the vibrant jade of her irises looking up at me. Her face twitches for a moment, and then...she laughs.
It is an awful sound. A harsh cackle that echoes off the walls of the catacombs. She pauses to catch her breath, then begins anew.
My hand tightens on the hilt of my weapon. Could I have missed the sign somehow? Or is this some other curse that is taking her over? A ward of madness placed on the spell book we had found in the alchemist's quarters, perhaps...
And still, the laughing - the cackling - continues, wracking her delicate frame. Tears stream down her face. She gasps, "I'm...I'm so sorry. I'm sorry."
Releasing my weapon, I brush back her hood, the ebon tresses lost in the black cloth. "Why? What are you sorry for?"
"I tried. I really, really did. I kept a straight face through your whole, stupid speech. And *wow*, what a speech it was. When they taught you swordsmanship, did they also train you in words to say to your fallen comrade? Because, I mean...you ticked all the boxes, Straumn, you really did."
Her voice changed to a soprano simper. "No, please, oh, we're so close, oh, don't die, oh Ryn, oh gosh, I'm going to cry..."
She smirked. "I was this close. *This* close to keeping it together. And then you *cried* on me! Your big dopey tear splashed on me and part of it went up my nose! I mean...come ON! I may be the Dark Lady of Myr Tower, but I'm not made of *stone*!"
I stared at her, agape.
"Oh, geez. You still hadn't figured it out? Here, let me help you connect the dots."
Before I could react, the copper doors to my left burst open, and air sucked us into the room inside.
"See? Nobody home," she said, gesturing broadly at the empty throne on the dais against the far wall. "But I did want to thank you for helping me identify vulnerabilities in my defenses and weeding out the weakest of my followers. This really has been delightful - but I'm afraid the fun is now over."
The room goes black and I hear her begin to chant.
* * *
/r/ShadowsofClouds
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[WP] As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over.".
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As the hero enters the throne room of the dark lord. The throne is empty and the hero's companion says with a grin " Well this has been delightful but I'm afraid the fun is now over."
The hero turned to his companion with a glare and disappointment only a 5 year old crown prince with a wood sword can produce.
“But dad! We didn’t fight the dragonking yet!”
“Its way past your bed time my little hero!” The king kneeled down and took the sword from him and lifted him up. “ You mum would kill me if I let you stay up any longer. We can finish next week. I promise.” The king carried his little boy as the boy started to yawn towards the bedchamber. Behind them the knights that was lying spread across the hallway looked up disappointed, this Saturday evening adventures of the crown princes had been their highlights of the week. Last week they had been zombies, the week before orcs. Today they had been lizard people.
|
"And you were doing so well: you figured out the riddle, got the scroll, and even managed to defeat my Golem. I must say I am impressed, Gilder, but now this game has run its course. You never would have expected your faithful friend, Decepto, of betrayal, but now I have you in-"
Decepto suddenly could not speak, he reached towards his throat and could feel a large dagger protruding from his neck. He could also feel warm blood pour through his hands before falling to his knees and then the ground, his armor making a loud clanging noise as it crashed to the ground. Gilder watched as Decepto gurgled and coughed his last breath, he held another dagger at the ready just in case.
The many men waiting in ambush came out from their hiding spots, screaming with their swords drawn. They all halted in their tracks, however, when they saw their master in a pool of his own blood.
"You... you killed our lord, ruler of darkness, king of chaos, master of all things e-" Gilder threw another dagger right at the follower's neck.
"Anyone else?" Gilder said pulling out another or a seemingly endless supply of daggers.
"Well Hero," said another follower with the good sense to drop his sword first. "How long did you suspect Decepto's treachery?"
"The name Decepto never really sat right with me to begin with, but really he had a tendency to say stuff like 'All in good time my *friend*' or 'We *both* shall be wetting our blades before long' and then laughing. He just never seemed above board." Gilder walked over to the two bodies and retrieved his two daggers from their respective necks. "Believe me, when you've been heroing as long as I have, you pick up on stuff like this."
The follower buried his head in his hands and rubbed his eyes in embarrassment. "And you just killed him? And one of his acolytes? What about honor, duty, fairness? I thought knights are supposed to be merciful, not just kill on a wh- SERIOUSLY! I'm not even armed!"
The follower narrowly dodged the dagger and it went clattering into the corner.
"Believe me doing it this way saves a lot of headaches"
"God, you're worse than Decepto!"
"Hey, you guys were going to kill *me*."
"We were going to ask you to join us! He was gonna make you second in command. I mean we expected that you'd turn us down but..."
"Aw man seriously, I totally would have gone for that, do you know how much traveling a Hero does? I could have really gone for a throne job. Any chance we can still make that happen? Your cult doesn't dabble in necromancy does it?"
"Wow, I really hate you."
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Saw this as a title of an Imgur post, thought it might make an interesting WP
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[WP] At first, nothing happened. Then, after a few seconds, nothing continued to happen.
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u/Officialsandwichman sat and waited
Seconds ticked by. He checked his watch. Only been 10. He knew it would take longer.
"writing prompts always do" he thought to himself...
"this is really cleaver, I bet someone has a great idea that they are gonna drop for this one...."
His watch again, 1 minute passed....
"well, a watched post never boils" he put his head back and gaufed, "more like u/socleaver, am i right?" he asked to no one. His cat had long since left the room....
"cus a watched pot never boils.... Watched post... Ya...." he explaines to himself, trying so hard to validate his joke, that even he is now embarrassed by....
"maybe 10000 likes, that would be good.... Its really a good idea.... Cant wait!"
"no, its not about the likes, its about the community.... But gold, could you imagine?!"
"GUILDED!" he shouted, as if he were some street thug, excited to see his homie again
His watch, 3 minutes... "is that all? Well, let see what else is on front page.... Crypto.... Cats.... Dog videos..."
Back to his watch, 10 minutes had passed.... 600 seconds of nothing.... But suddenly, a reddit icon appeared at the top of his cellular device....
u/dworkphone commented on your post
Joy of joy! What interesting thing did he come up with?
With rapt attention, he reads the story from the prompt
"Thats it?!" he asks himself, outloud, not expecting an answer
Yes u/Officialsandwichman, thats it.
Regretfully yours,
u/dworkphone
Edits: user names
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Sitting at the beach, feeling a gentle breeze,
dusk is nearing, sun is setting,
the sand cools, starting to shiver;
 
you wait and await,
looking into the red horizon,
staring into the dark sky,
endless, without rest;
 
you feel the cold,
numbing the legs,
freezing the brain,
relentless, and steady;
 
a noise, a hope,
twitching eyes,
frantic looks,
thinking,
searching,
seeking,
something,
somebody;
 
but nobody comes,
nothing happened.
 
the ocean starts to breathe,
with an approaching nightfall.
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Saw this as a title of an Imgur post, thought it might make an interesting WP
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[WP] At first, nothing happened. Then, after a few seconds, nothing continued to happen.
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u/Officialsandwichman sat and waited
Seconds ticked by. He checked his watch. Only been 10. He knew it would take longer.
"writing prompts always do" he thought to himself...
"this is really cleaver, I bet someone has a great idea that they are gonna drop for this one...."
His watch again, 1 minute passed....
"well, a watched post never boils" he put his head back and gaufed, "more like u/socleaver, am i right?" he asked to no one. His cat had long since left the room....
"cus a watched pot never boils.... Watched post... Ya...." he explaines to himself, trying so hard to validate his joke, that even he is now embarrassed by....
"maybe 10000 likes, that would be good.... Its really a good idea.... Cant wait!"
"no, its not about the likes, its about the community.... But gold, could you imagine?!"
"GUILDED!" he shouted, as if he were some street thug, excited to see his homie again
His watch, 3 minutes... "is that all? Well, let see what else is on front page.... Crypto.... Cats.... Dog videos..."
Back to his watch, 10 minutes had passed.... 600 seconds of nothing.... But suddenly, a reddit icon appeared at the top of his cellular device....
u/dworkphone commented on your post
Joy of joy! What interesting thing did he come up with?
With rapt attention, he reads the story from the prompt
"Thats it?!" he asks himself, outloud, not expecting an answer
Yes u/Officialsandwichman, thats it.
Regretfully yours,
u/dworkphone
Edits: user names
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She cut the wire. The lights on the panel flickered and went out. She heard a small click as the electronic lock disengaged. Now for the physical. She pulled the pin in her hair which stayed in place due to her skintight suit. This was the easy part. With a slight flick of her wrist, she popped the door open.
The door to the safe opened with a creak. She inhaled. Rusty hinges were an unforeseen complication. At first nothing happened. She paused. Then, after a few seconds, nothing continued to happen. They must be pretty deep sleepers.
She swiped the jewels from the safe and slipped out the window into the night. Before she got very far, I figure dropped down in front of her. The outline of a cape and pointed ears were barely visible in the dim streetlight. A deep voice spoke from the shadows.
“That’s not yours, Selina.”
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[WP] She didn't care even if he was a god. She was going to slap him. He deserved that much anyway.
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There was something about the early mornings when she could hear the old life behind her. It was not so far behind then, in that quiet. The hotel rooms coughed in their soft air-conditioning, and he would be asleep then.
She would listen, she remembered, to the quiet. That was a long time ago. Back then quiet was hard to come by. She remembered how lucky she was, and in those moments of quiet, she would revel in the memory of the noise.
They had met amidst noise. His name was Dillon Thomas. He had changed it to Billy Dillon sometime in his twenties. He was still performing acoustic then, and the crowds were yuppies, intellectual types that could hear the changing of the times in his words, and feel the establishment being torn down in their rebellious congregation. Billy Dillon was a superstar.
She saw him at the Gaslight. He hadn't seen her then. She saw him next at Old Port. He wore big shades then and slung the electric guitar low to his knees. The teenage revolution had kicked off. She was a fan of him. He saw her then.
She remembered the cheers and the boos. Everyone was pushing upfront. In those days there wasn't much security. He smiled at her and called her up. A big man let her through. The way through the tent was dark and she smelled cigarettes and beer.
"Oh my God, I'm a huge fan!"
Did he hear? She was not sure. He took her in the limousine. There were screaming girls everywhere. Their hands painted the glass, flashes of screaming faces each time a picture was taken. But inside the car was quiet and he took off his shades and he was tired and smiling.
"So what's your name?"
"Sarah," she said.
He would write a song about her. But that would be after the storms had passed and it was always quiet. After it was too late.
But then she was young, and he was young, and he was a God to all the young people. And she was with him. That first night in the hotel room was like some dream. She remembered how her mother would cry the next day, how worried she had been. But that night was soft, exciting in its exotic taboo.
"Many girls want me," he had said. "You should feel lucky."
And he smiled and looked like a boy who was just trying to be cocky. And she loved him more for that. And that night lasted forever and she slept beside him until early morning, listening to the quiet.
He went with her for a long time. Mother was against it and so she ran away. She went on tour with him. Together they stood against the waves of screams and roars of theaters. They toured England and America and all the nights were loud and full of new things, new places and people. And in the early mornings she would think of her old life in the quiet.
Then came the drugs. He was God then, and God was offered everything. And he did everything. She quarreled and he hit her. He apologized. Then they quarreled again.
He spent nights away from her. He spent nights with other women. The magazines loved it. He called her sometimes, drunk, and he would cry into the early mornings.
"I miss you."
"I miss you too."
She was young.
She caved in and she used as well. They got back together and he almost overdosed. His people covered it up as a motorcycle accident. God could not be shown to be human. That would be bad for business.
But he took a break.
They lived together on Montague street in a basement down the stairs. It was quiet there and low key. She absorbed that quiet and for a little while, things seemed to be okay. She thought life could be this way forever. And she was happy. They had money and he had married her. He had cut down on using, and promised he would get clean.
She got pregnant. They had three children in five years. He was a good father. He was God again, but in a different way. She loved him. Life was good.
The roar of the masses was too loud. She remembered the day he told her he was going on tour again. The oldest child was five. He was happy, ready to lead his faithful. How could she say no?
"It'll be different this time, right Billy?"
He kissed her.
"Of course, babe. I promise."
That was the voice of a generation. A voice she had run away from her home to hear in person. A voice who loved her.
"Okay."
He started using on the road. He was using more and more. There were other women. The magazines reported it while she was home alone with their children. The women were younger than her, and prettier. He was happy. All the pictures showed him smiling. He never called. It was always quiet then in that house. And in that quiet she remembered the life she used to live. She cried sometimes.
When he returned a year had passed. He was to go out again. She could not take anymore. Mother was ill but not dead. She gave her strength.
"Leave him. Leave him for your children's sake."
And she did not care if he was God. She slapped him when used in front of them, when he would smoke in the living room. He deserved as much. And he would hit her and cuss her out.
*I deserve that for being stupid,* she thought.
And she was strong and she left him. She took their children and he was alone. But he was never *really* alone. He had his people, and that made leaving him easier.
Later he would write a song named after her. He would beg her until she crumbled on the phone, until she cried and her body grew too weak to sit. She would hang up and listen to the quiet and sing the old songs she had fallen in love with.
*Be strong.*
Eventually he moved on. He stopped calling. The children received money from him. She received enough to live comfortably. The media left her alone and she lived quietly. He remained a God even as age took his youthful glamour. He was just old then, and a God in a different way. They had him in textbooks and he won endless awards. That song he wrote about her was hailed as a masterpiece.
She thought it was funny sometimes, in a sad way. She still kept his picture, pictures of them when their love was good and living was strong. She grew old and saw the children off. She took solace in the quiet. She took comfort in seeing her children grow.
As death neared she was not afraid of what would come after. She had stopped believing in any Gods. All she knew was that death would bring quiet.
-
*Hi there! If you liked this story, you might want to check out my subreddit, r/PanMan. It collects all my different stories and stuff of that nature. Check it out if you can, and thanks for the support!*
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"Hey, asshole!"
Not many people turn back when addressed like that. There is a voice deep in your heart that convinces you that you are, in fact, never an asshole.
But Simon turned back instantly. He had been called that so often that it had become a reflex for him. Simon didn't go out of his way to be one. It was just the way he was. Some people are kind. Some people are clever. Simon was a thriving breed in times that were best suited for people like him - an asshole. He couldn't help it. More often than not, he wasn't even aware of it.
"Yes, miss?" He smiled at the petite woman storming towards him.
"Who the fuck do you think you are?"
Droplets of spit traveled from her mouth in a clean arc and hit him right on his nose.
"I don't know what you are talking about, miss."
He shrugged his shoulders in embarrassment. He really didn't know. The woman looked like angry. Her pale face had turned a deep shade of crimson. Almost as if painted on.
"What? I am coming straight from the play." She picked up a white napkin and wiped the paint away from her face.
The play. That was where Simon last was. It was the worst. Unclear, Simon proceeded to walk away.
"Hey," the voice again.
He turned back just in time to see a hand travelling straight at his face. His reflexes worked fine and he stepped back to avoid it.
"Ma'am, I don't know what your problem is."
"I am Aphrodite."
The same look of disappointment in her face that Simon had seen countless times in his father's.
"Yeah? I am sorry I didn't recognize you."
He extended his arm for a handshake. Nothing. The woman stormed away with the same speed she had come at.
-----
"Hey, Simon!" Alan hollered at him.
"Alan, where were you? I was looking for you everywhere. God, this play sucked. Something was missing."
"Or someone. Let's go." Alan put a hand over his shoulder and smiled cryptically at him.
-----
"Laura, what the fuck is wrong with that Simon guy?"
"Let it go, Hannah."
"Let it go? How the fuck should I let it go? He ruined the whole play."
"It isn't the first time, you know."
"I don't know why Alan keeps casting him. There isn't anyone else in this city who can play Hermes?"
"Some friend of his. What can we do?"
"Fuck Alan. If Simon isn't on stage next week, I am going to kill him."
-----
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[WP] Thousands of years after humans have gone extinct, dogs evolve human like intelligence. They're obsessed with us and don't know why.
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Silence prevailed in the bridge of the CSU Retriever. They'd been assigned to sweep this sector and look for traces of felid vessels after numerous reports of ships going missing in the region, but so far they hadn't found any of the telltale signs of pirates. Glancing at my bond-mate Mancha I couldn't help but shudder looking at the scarred gash where her ear had been before she was caught in one of the felids brutal pirate raids.
"CIC give me a scan of that gas giant aft."
"Aye sir, sending LIDAR pulses that way."
The cats were ambush predators, so they had a nasty habit of disguising their ships in the gravity well of larger stars to amb-
"Sir, contact 170 degrees horizontal, 25 degrees vertical, .25AU" The sensor technician interrupted my thoughts with the unexpected contact. I unconsciously curled my tail in at the news. For a ship to sneak up behind us that close without us noticing, it would have to be a top of the line military-grade stealth ship.
"Ops prepare the "red dot" protocol. If the cats think they can take us out without a fight they've got another thing coming. "
"Sir it's not the felids." I paused and cocked my head to one side. "In fact I'm not getting a pattern match in any of the database of species the elders uplifted."
My ears pricked up at this information. If what he said was true, our crew could have the rare opportunity the initiate first contact with an unknown species.
"Send them a hail and get our science team up here. They're going to want to see this."
Suddenly the main view screen cut in to a view of this new ship's bridge. Tail wagging with excitement I watched a tall bipedal creature who I assumed to be their captain begin to speak. I couldn't see its face due to the grey nanosuit covering its whole body, but for some strange reason I felt more at ease than I had in a long while.
It spoke again in that strange melodic voice, but this time the auto translators caught up in time, showing our first message from an uncontacted race.
"Who's a good boy?"
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Late at night, after the pups had been tucked in, Bob and Alice Malamutson would sit on the porch of their home and talk of happy things. They would reminisce over fences they had smelled together, and of the squirrels they had chased when young and free. Usually it was a peaceful, meditative conversation, but tonight was different.
"Why do we do it?" asked Bob suddenly, cocking his head toward his wife. "Do what, dear?" she replied.
"Why do we get up every day and put on a leash and go to work? I mean, why?" Bob resumed lapping at a bowl of beer, his third that evening, and Alice flattened her ears slightly.
"Because we have to Bob," she said. "You want to lose your job? The house? We all do our part in the whole...thing," she continued, waving a paw absently, "because if dogs didn't, everything would fall apart like it did for the humans."
A long silence hung between them, punctuated only by a thoughtful lapping from Bob.
"Yeah, but what if *they* weren't right?" he said eventually. Alice's fur began to bristle and she had to will it back down. "What do you mean?" she asked, careful not to bare any teeth.
"I just mean, what if the *humans* had the wrong idea about life and we're just following their mistakes?" Bob had finished the bowl and was now staring at his wife with that dumb, goofy just-happy-to-be-alive expression that often accompanied his most idiotic actions. Alice just stared back at him. Failing to take the hint, Bob plowed on.
"Like, I go to work every day, just run along the old tracks into town, right? I get into the city and I'm in the office all day going over marketing strategies with the boys. We do ok out of it, Master be praised, but it's just kind of...phony. Like, everyone says "Good job" when we finish a contract and everyone acts like we're doing something *real*, but it's *not*, Alice." Bob was now looking up at her with sad, sad eyes and she felt her heart melt a little.
"It's just *barking* Alice," he said. "It's just barking. A client comes in and says they want everyone to know about their territory and we just bark about it. that's our strategy every time, just barking wildly about stuff that *doesn't even matter*. We try to do presentations and stuff like we read in the holy Book of the Dummies, but we can't because we don't have *fucking thumbs*, Alice. We can't even hold the *fucking pens*." Alice sat and shook quietly.
"Like, have you ever actually stopped and smelled the fences along the train tracks, Alice? So many cool dogs have pissed there, *so many*. They pissed there, then they died. And what was it all for? So we can just keep the cycle going? What happens when we run out of things to piss on? What do we piss on then?"
Alice suddenly snapped and lunged towards Bob, growling and slavering. "We'll just keep pissing, Bob! We'll just keep going, barking at things and pissing on literally everything we can! Because it's who we are and who *they* were and it's all we know, and it's all we *should* know, because do *you* know the answer to The Question, Bob?"
Bob was flat on the porch now, utterly fear-stricken. "No," he said weakly.
"*No you don't*," Alice said. "*Are* you a good boy?"
"I don't *know*," said Bob sadly.
"No, *we* don't know, Honey" said Alice, and Bob looked at his wife and remembered again why he loved her so.
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[WP] Thousands of years after humans have gone extinct, dogs evolve human like intelligence. They're obsessed with us and don't know why.
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Silence prevailed in the bridge of the CSU Retriever. They'd been assigned to sweep this sector and look for traces of felid vessels after numerous reports of ships going missing in the region, but so far they hadn't found any of the telltale signs of pirates. Glancing at my bond-mate Mancha I couldn't help but shudder looking at the scarred gash where her ear had been before she was caught in one of the felids brutal pirate raids.
"CIC give me a scan of that gas giant aft."
"Aye sir, sending LIDAR pulses that way."
The cats were ambush predators, so they had a nasty habit of disguising their ships in the gravity well of larger stars to amb-
"Sir, contact 170 degrees horizontal, 25 degrees vertical, .25AU" The sensor technician interrupted my thoughts with the unexpected contact. I unconsciously curled my tail in at the news. For a ship to sneak up behind us that close without us noticing, it would have to be a top of the line military-grade stealth ship.
"Ops prepare the "red dot" protocol. If the cats think they can take us out without a fight they've got another thing coming. "
"Sir it's not the felids." I paused and cocked my head to one side. "In fact I'm not getting a pattern match in any of the database of species the elders uplifted."
My ears pricked up at this information. If what he said was true, our crew could have the rare opportunity the initiate first contact with an unknown species.
"Send them a hail and get our science team up here. They're going to want to see this."
Suddenly the main view screen cut in to a view of this new ship's bridge. Tail wagging with excitement I watched a tall bipedal creature who I assumed to be their captain begin to speak. I couldn't see its face due to the grey nanosuit covering its whole body, but for some strange reason I felt more at ease than I had in a long while.
It spoke again in that strange melodic voice, but this time the auto translators caught up in time, showing our first message from an uncontacted race.
"Who's a good boy?"
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"I don't get it! We're the most intellectual beings on this world, yet we can't get behind this mystery."
The other dog was slowly walking circles into the ground rambling on and on about the humans,as he tends to do lately, it slowly began to worry me how obsessed he became with them.
"Look Balu, I said trying to calm him down, we know that there are no humans, heck we don't even know if there ever were humans, no dog has ever seen one and...
And yet we all are born with a clear picture of them in our mind" He aggressively interrupted me.
He kept going, picking up speed: "Think about it, nobody has ever seen them and yet we all know what they are, with no deviation. They must have created this world for us. There are no records of us dogs creating such things as our world wonders, the metal forests, the sunken giants or even the pyramids. They made it all for us."
Slowly I tilted my head to the left looking straight into Balus eyes. "So what, if they created the world, I felt anger growing inside of me, why did they leave us? And where are they now Balu?"
"Oh don't you worry Racer, he smiled that naive loving smile of his, they will come back to us one day and take us to their beautiful place, I will forever believe that."
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[WP] Thousands of years after humans have gone extinct, dogs evolve human like intelligence. They're obsessed with us and don't know why.
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Roofus sighed, staring out the window of his corporate tower. It was a crystal clear day and the wind carried the scents of celebration. His ear twitched as he heard his door click open.
"Congratulations, sir. It went off without a hitch." A voice said from behind. "Sir?"
Roofus cleared his throat, "Sorry, erm, thank you, Sparky."
Sparky approached, "Is everything alright? I thought you would be thrilled."
"No, I am. Everything is fine." Roofus said. "I am just in a thoughtful mood." His eyes found a tall statue in the distance. A tall, bipedal creature- a human - stood looking towards the sky. One of its appendages was held upward, a single digit of its claw pointed upwards. The other hand laid atop the head of a dog, its own gaze following the humans up to the sky.
"I have trouble believing it myself. The first Martian colony, well, the first of our species." Their corporation funded much of the expedition, and their technology fueled the engines that made the journey possible.
Roofus thought the accomplishment would have filled this hole he felt inside. This feeling that he needed to achieve something greater. It drove him all his life. And yet...He stared at this statue and still felt a sense of longing.
"Do you think..." He started.
"Sir?"
"Do you think...they would be proud of us?" He asked.
Sparky followed Roofus' gaze to the statue, "I...don't know sir. I'm sure they would be."
"In many ways we've created a better world than they ever had. A more peaceful one. A cleaner one. They fled in part because they were on the verge of breaking the world." He said, speaking his thoughts in hopes of defining this hole left in side. "And yet...And yet...I still just want to know...I want to know if they would have thought I was a good boy."
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“Any more information on humans?” Pochi whined, looking up at Rover.
“Not yet, but I might be getting close. This is so frustrating...” Rover growled, as he flipped a page of an ancient tome with his nose. He’d spent the last six months alone trying to decipher the script- it seemed like the “humans” had had multiple languages. Though, some of them might have used the same alphabet. They weren’t sure yet. This language seemed to be a part of the common alphabet, and River had found multiple instances of words that correlated to what seemed like other languages. A language that developed to be universal, perhaps?
“Pochi, get me a tome that includes any other possible language using this alphabet. I’m going to get the bottom of this eventually.” Pochi barked, and looked to a shelf, beginning to drag different books down. They were heavy and unwieldy- not at all like books that had been made by dogs. But they were the only true connection left to the elusive humans.
Rover didn’t know *why* he was so driven to know about humans. Why he and everyone he knew seemed to love them, despite never knowing any. But that was his job. He was supposed to figure out why. He had a few theories- but theories were next to useless. He needed evidence.
For that, he had a massive budget. Recently, President Trunks had approved a budget that raised taxes, despite her positions on the subject, as a way to provide all the funding Rover could ask for. Ancient records from around the world were delivered to his doorstep, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. No *Indiana Bones* shenanigans for him, thanks.
“Hey Rover?” Pochi spoke up. He had one of the books open at his paws.
“Mmh?” Rover growled, distracted by his work.
“Do you think we might have been companions, somehow?”
“That seems obvious, honestly. We are genetically predisposed to love them.”
“I think we might have been pets.” Rover’s ears perked up, and swiveled towards Pochi, as if he thought he had heard him wrong.
“Pets? Like, a cat? Please Pochi, don’t be preposterous. I don’t see how any intelligent species could keep another intelligent species as pets.” Rover turned back to his work, flipping another page and licking his drying nose.
“But, maybe we weren’t as intelligent back then. Shouldn’t there be some records left by us if that were the case?” Pochi cocked his head, looking down at the book.
“Pochi, I suggest you stop this line of thinking immediately. Our best estimation puts human extinction at well under one million years ago, which would decidedly *not* be enough time for dogkind to become sentient if we weren’t at the time of humans.”
“But we only have history stretching back-“
“Because there was probably some disaster that destroyed it! Pochi, stop it. We need to focus, not dwell on fantasies.”
“Yes, Rover...”
___
If you liked this, please check out my subreddit, /r/OpiWrites, where I post all of my stories!
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[WP] You have voices in your head. Only thing is, they're talking to each other and not to you. You can do nothing but eavesdrop onto their conversations.
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"Look, look, look - that girl in front. She's gonna fall over in a minute."
"No way."
"*Yes* way. I've seen it. She goes to step up the curb, snags her heel, turns at the same time, and then *bam* - straight over, legs in the air!"
"Well... that's what you get for wearing those shoes, I guess."
"Mm-hm. Look, look - here it comes!"
"She's snagged!"
"And *down* she goes! Like clockwork."
"Ha! How *do* you do it?"
"I dunno! I dunno. It just happens. I just see it, you know? Like, this one across the street - she's about to go left into the market, in 3... 2..."
"... 1!"
"Yep. Told you."
"Amazing! Do another one."
"Okay, okay. So, this guy, right? He's about to get hit by a car. Puts one foot on the road and then he jus-"
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"Do you sometimes feel like there's someone in here with us?" asked the first voice.
The second, higher-pitched voice said "Like a presence? Yes, at least ever since--"
"It's probably because it's so dark," the first interrupted, not wanting to hear the other girl's answer.
But I knew why the girls were scared. I could only make my presence known anymore; no longer could I respond or tuck them into bed at night like I could when I was alive.
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[WP] In a world of superheroes and super villains, you and a bunch of friends are watching the Superbowl. When a villain attacks the stadium all your friends suddenly start making excuses to leave.
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“Listen buddy, my wife is going into labor and I HAVE to get there NOW!”
“Sorry buddy, just doin my job.” The henchman said emotionlessly.
“Nobody is allowed to leave until the boss gets his ransom money”
“Listen pal, I’m about to miss the birth of my daughter, do you have any kids? What’s your name pal?”
“I’m josh, no I don’t have any kids. It’s hard dating when you live in an underground bunker operating anti air cannons. I get paid well and send the money to my mom.”
“Ok josh, let me try something different... LET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!”
Without breaking a sweat, the heavy set bodyguard shoved James back with his rifle.
“Buddy I’m gonna need you to sit down and really calm tf down, I don’t wanna be here just as much as you don’t wanna be here. Just relax and it will be over soon.”
Defeated, James sat back in his seat.
*darn, I really thought that would work* he thought to himself, thinking of getting home and playing video games instead of sitting in a damn stadium watching the 2 sides battle for sometimes days in a row. He suddenly had to use the bathroom.
“Hey pal, I gotta use the bathroom, is there one around here?”
“Sure” he turned around
“If you go up the stairs and take a left, you will see the bathroom right next to the exit. There’s a red and green sign, can’t miss it.”
Puzzled, he just stared in awe for a moment.
“Well? You goin? If you ain’t goin sit back down please.”
“I’m goin I’m goin, I’ll be right back”
He went to the door of the bathroom, saw the exit open, and just walked off
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"Oh fuck those nachos were a bit spicy, i'll be right back" Nicolas Odinson spat out as he sprinted for the bathroom. I took a look at the mild salsa and shrugged. Norwegians are notoriously sensitive to spicy food.
Not 30 seconds later, Dr. Brucer had left the party, claiming multiple rips in his pants. Frankly, I had thought he had gained weight recently, but felt too embarrassed to mention it. I was glad that realty had finally caught up to him. As a scientist, he should have the logic to recognize the correlation.
My suspicion that my party was being ditched began to arise when Tony Lark left only a minute later. His claim of car trouble seemed somewhat lame, compared to the panic in which he left the gathering. As someone who has had their 2002 Honda Civic break down on multiple occasions, I do understand the horror of losing a vehicle; however I felt it was somewhat rude to leave a party simply because your form of transportion needed attention.
My paranoia reached a peak when Steve Dodgers- the biggest Patriots fan I know - suddenly felt a pain in the back of his skull. He called it a migraine, but as a fellow sufferer, he certainly did not act like the headache was coming from within.
With only a few attendees left, I was beginning to worry that my Super Bowl party had become a flop. I began questioning myself. Was the T.V. quality poor? Had the chili gone cold? Was there a more enticing option elsewhere?
And the suddenly I knew what had happened. I knew something had gone entirely wrong. And I knew what!
I knew my friends hadn't ditched me for frivolous reasons. I knew they had left for a purpose. A true purpose. A powerful purpose. A REAL purpose. A purpose that would save not only me, but all of America.
They had left to protect us from Aliens! And not just any aliens. In fact, they had left to defend all of us from the most dangerous of all aliens.
Illegal Aliens.
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[WP] In a world of superheroes and super villains, you and a bunch of friends are watching the Superbowl. When a villain attacks the stadium all your friends suddenly start making excuses to leave.
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It was pretty comical when John told us he was going to the 'John'. We figured, "typical John trying to crack a joke." Minutes after, Ted exclaimed he had to hit the head. After a few drinks, of course it was hilarious. Things got weird when John's girlfriend Joliet had to go to the toilet and Molly had to 'drop one off at the trolley'. Then, it was just me.
I had hosted the party with John, Joliet, Ted, Molly as well as myself. This was something we did every year at my apartment. I had made my homemade guacamole and the other guests would bring their own specialty. A few years ago an ex of one of us (Ted) didn't cook the chicken good enough and we got food poisoning.
But, I digress. It was February in Minneapolis. Snow was gently falling over the Twin Cities leaving a beautiful dusting before history being made. Unfortunately, the history being made wouldn't be the football game.
If you haven't been to US Bank Stadium, it is a stunning and beautiful piece of architectural plastered right in the middle of down town Minneapolis. The Stadium was shaped like a ship to represent the Vikings team themselves. It was architectural brilliance. Which makes it that more difficult as to why these events transpired.
Vikings' fans are very respectful and unfortunately they couldn't make the Super Bowl as the home team. Sadly, they were the first to blame for the attacks. It seemed ridiculous at first, but, it made sense. The news stations had claimed that; "Vikings fans were the root of it all out of jealousy."
It was perfectly coordinated it seemed. The Patriots had scored first so naturally, fireworks ensued. All of us thought it was part of the show. It seemed the fireworks went off erratically but hopefully no injuries. The Eagles drove down the field next possession and had to settle for a field goal. Just small flares were set off.
The Eagles picked off Brady the next drive and brought it to mid field. The crowd erupted at the threat of the Eagles to score and they did not disappoint. After a long bomb for a TD there was a huge boom and flash on the screen, and next thing we know is that the US went to Code Red.
Living locally, it made sense how quickly they all got there. Especially Ted, that lazy son of a…he fooled us all.
The "villain" at first was pretty hilarious. "They" made it seem like an ingenious plan but was pretty juvenile. After the fact, the lazy SOB Ted could have done this on his own, but ya know, he's Ted so casualties happened.
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It was just about to be Halftime, as I was already beginning to view another over million dollar Toyota commercial. I was watching the game with my good buddy Craig, a pretty good guy for a non-super.
“Hey man, we’re out out of salsa,” he exclaimed, running into the kitchen. I sighed to myself, *a hero’s work is never done*.
I know it sounds cliche, but I’m being serious. Tonight was the biggest game of the year, and we needed as many heroes on watch as possible. *Ah well,* at least we’re getting paid overtime for this.
*Ring Ring! Ring Ring* Aw crud, it was Chief Bryant, I’ll just answer and see what he wants. “What’s new chief, something serious?”
“We need your help, Shaker. We’re sensing strange electrical surges in the area,” replied Chief Bryant.
“Crud.. it’s Blackout, isn’t it,”
“We believe so. I’m sorry Alex, but right now you’re our only agent on standby,”
“Don’t worry chief, I’m on my way. But I gotta warn you, my terrakinesis has been a little rusty,”
Soon, I was in a helicopter over Bank Stadium, alongside Alana Price, The Salamander, and Malik Khan, the Pyrotech, ready to jump into action. Suddenly, an electric surge broke through, darkening the whole stadium. The three of us leaped down to face the villain.
“Hello Shaker, what a lovely surprise to see you, care for some salsa?”
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[WP] In a world of superheroes and super villains, you and a bunch of friends are watching the Superbowl. When a villain attacks the stadium all your friends suddenly start making excuses to leave.
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It had been ages since the whole gang had gotten together. Kayley, Mark, Ryan, Alex, and myself. We hadn’t been in a group gathering together since we graduated college back in the spring. Months later, the Super Bowl seemed like the perfect excuse to get back together. Of course, it had to be the event the Unjust League would attack.
I remember growing up, always loving the comic books that would come out about these guys. Little me said I wanted to be a villain when I grew up on career day. I didn’t really get the whole ‘these people are terrorizing the world’ thing. They were one of the few old school villains left. Maniacal cackling and all that jazz. But lately, they had been more of an annoyance than anything else. Always crashing big events, always making the same moves, only to have their plans foiled by (usually) caped crusaders.
When they took over the stadium, all of us sighed as the game broadcast was turned over to the news team. I looked at my friends. They looked pale, Kayley was sporting a grimace. I decided to try and lighten the mood.
“Well, we’ve still got a lot of pizza, so if worse comes to worse we can probably make it a few days on that alone.”
Forced laughter. “Hey, Jamie, you know me. I always get so anxious just watching this kind of thing. I think I’m gonna go home.”
I did know Kayley. We had been friends since elementary school. She had been there on career day. She had wanted to be a hero. Turned out a law student. But she couldn’t watch someone step on a spider without the color draining from her face.
“Yeah, sure, of course, Kayley. Are you sure you’re good to make it home by yourself? Maybe we should wait for some updates...”
“I’ll take Kayley home, it’s probably better to go in pairs and I’ve got an early day tomorrow anyway.” Alex and Kayley stood up. The Unjust League had really killed the party. Ryan and Mark didn’t seem too excited to be left behind. My nerves told me that maybe time had unraveled our friendship, and maybe this was a good time to let go of a somewhat awkward afternoon. I remember the hesitation of Kayley’s hug when I had opened the door, the way Alex, who always had something to say, seemed quiet. Maybe we weren’t meant for real life together. The rational part of me tried to hide the disappointment that was creeping onto my face. But I could see the words forming on Mark’s tongue.
“I should get going, too.” He said. He looked at me and his face changed. I must not have hidden my emotions very well. “It’s been fun hanging out, we should do it again, soon! I’m just worried traffic is going to be a mess now. And I live on the other side of the city.”
“Yeah, of course.” I say.
“It’s been a lot of fun, Jamie, really, I missed you guys,” Alex added on to Mark’s statement, standing at the front door with Kayley.
I stood up to give them all hugs before they left. Kayley and Alex drove off. Mark took some pizza with him before leaving.
That left me and Ryan. It was awkward, as we both sat anxiously watching the Unjust League’s speech. Why did villains always have to have a speech? It felt like they were giving the heroes time to catch up them. Maybe they just wanted attention, or someone to fight.
Then Ryan’s phone rang. I had always been a bit of a snoop, so of course I caught the Caller ID out of the corner of my eye. It was Kayley.
“Hello?” Ryan answered.
I was worried. Had Kayley and Alex gotten into a wreck or something? They say most accidents happen within a mile of your home. What about someone else’s house?
“Oh, oh my god.” Ryan’s voice nearly confirmed my fears as I looked at him. “I’ll be there right away!” He hung up
“Is everything alright?” I asked.
“No, um, my mom, she, uh, fell. She’s in the hospital. I need to go to her.”
“Yeah, of course, is she going to be alright?” I tried to hide my confusion.
“They, uh, don’t know yet,” he stood up, and I followed suit walking with him to the door. “They couldn’t tell me on the phone.”
On the TV, the news reporters announce that the Vigilante Squad was spotted heading towards the stadium. Three instead of the usual four. Something clicked in my brain.
“Holy shit,” I said, my hand hovering over the door knob.
“What?” Ryan looked ever paler.
“You’re, you guys are the, you guys are the fucking vigilante group. Holy shit.”
“What are you talking about I have to get to the hospital, Jamie.”
“Go, go. Just. Don’t fucking lie to me, Ryan. Tell me the truth.”
We locked eyes, and then he looked away.
“I-I can’t talk now.”
I opened the door. “I get it. But you’re all coming back here after you save the world. I have too much pizza and you guys have some explaining to do.”
He nodded, and ran out of the apartment.
I sat back down on my couch. This would be more nail biting than the game itself had been. I had never seen my friends in a fight before.
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It was just about to be Halftime, as I was already beginning to view another over million dollar Toyota commercial. I was watching the game with my good buddy Craig, a pretty good guy for a non-super.
“Hey man, we’re out out of salsa,” he exclaimed, running into the kitchen. I sighed to myself, *a hero’s work is never done*.
I know it sounds cliche, but I’m being serious. Tonight was the biggest game of the year, and we needed as many heroes on watch as possible. *Ah well,* at least we’re getting paid overtime for this.
*Ring Ring! Ring Ring* Aw crud, it was Chief Bryant, I’ll just answer and see what he wants. “What’s new chief, something serious?”
“We need your help, Shaker. We’re sensing strange electrical surges in the area,” replied Chief Bryant.
“Crud.. it’s Blackout, isn’t it,”
“We believe so. I’m sorry Alex, but right now you’re our only agent on standby,”
“Don’t worry chief, I’m on my way. But I gotta warn you, my terrakinesis has been a little rusty,”
Soon, I was in a helicopter over Bank Stadium, alongside Alana Price, The Salamander, and Malik Khan, the Pyrotech, ready to jump into action. Suddenly, an electric surge broke through, darkening the whole stadium. The three of us leaped down to face the villain.
“Hello Shaker, what a lovely surprise to see you, care for some salsa?”
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[WP] In a world of superheroes and super villains, you and a bunch of friends are watching the Superbowl. When a villain attacks the stadium all your friends suddenly start making excuses to leave.
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"Well I'm off" *She kisses me and gets up.* "Come on Daisy! Every time?" *Yes Leo, every time.* "You know how I feel about this, guys. They should stop broadcasting when something like this happens. I, for one will certainly not watch!" *And the dance begins.* "Well we'll see you tomorrow though, right?", Jemma asks. "Yes, ofcourse." Daisy answers before the door closes behind her.
*It is quite an ingenious ruse, really. Well it was, the first three times at least. Any moment now Jemma's or Leo's phone will ring, with a family emergency on the other end of the line.*
"I'm sorry, but I have to leave. That was my mother." Jemma get's up to get her coat. *And ofcourse Jemma and Leo always come as a couple.* "Leo?" she inquires, turning to her significant other. "Yes, ofcourse! Sorry, lad." At last, he also gets up and prepares to leave.
Now that I am alone, I can start to clean up. *But first…* I turn to the TV, where you can currently see a hooded figure holding the entire Superbowl hostage. *It is truly remarkable, that they still use the same trick to get away when they need to beat up a bad guy. That only shows the regard they hold for my Intelligence*
Two hours later, after reviewing how the hooded figure made its escape from my friends, I arrive at the stadium.
*Timetravel truly is the perfect power, when your best friends also happen to be your mortal enemies.*
Edit: grammar and sentence structure for better understanding
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It had all been going marvelously until half time.
"Look, Johnny I have to, um, go." Hannah waved vaguely at the door, even as her eyes stayed glued to the screen.
"Yeah, um," Bob rose from the beanbag he was engulfed in. "I too have to go. Um, Vet's appointment." He grinned weakly as his eyes locked on the Superbowl events.
"Aye, us too." Geoff and Sarah were shuffling to the door.
I frowned, glancing at the screen. Just as the whistle had gone for half time, a figure had rocketed onto the pitch. Cackling maniacally, Doctor Terror flew around the stadium, bringing terror to the advertisers and relief to the bored audience. It had been a tedious game, and a Supervillain was a welcome change of pace. Strange then, that they would all want to leave.
As they all moved to the door, the camera focused on the Villain, who checked his watch.
Wait a second... that watch was very familiar.
"Stop!" The group froze, half out the door. I turned and smiled at them. "You don't want to leave when it's just getting good. Besides, I have pizza." As they hesitated, I walked to the door and closed it. "I insist, Phaser, Captain Creator, Angelic, Slick and Bob."
Shuffling their feet, the heroes ummed and ahhed before sitting down in an uncomfortable silence as the Supervillain flailed onscreen.
Bob broke it. "So, the pizza...?"
"Oh, yes. Nearly forgot." I pulled out my phone and rang.
On the pitch, the Villain froze, before sheepishly pulling out a communicator.
"Hello, brother." Doctor Terror flinched from his screen as I spoke calmly.
"Bro! I was just about to..."
"Continue to threaten the crowd?" I glared at the screen. "When you're done fooling around, you can grab six pizzas on the way back." The villain's head drooped.
"Ok, bro."
"And if you're that bored," I turned, staring at the shame-faced friends, "instead of sneaking out to cause chaos and instigate a battle with the Hero League, we can put something else on." I paused. "Or, you know, threaten the teams into playing another game. Your choice."
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[WP] You jobs as the newest acolyte to the temple are simple: 1) rise at dawn for prayer and cleaning work, 2) obedience and obeisance to the deities, priests, and priestesses, 3) tend to the trees in the sacred groves. The angry, screeching trees in the sacred groves.
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Slowly, gently, with the upmost care, Taani poured the tea into the bowl before him, filling the air with the scent of aniseed and ginger as he did so. Stopping precisely one fingers width from the brim, he put aside the pot, bowed, and pushed the bowl towards the man sat opposite him, Master Vo. Accepting the tea and putting it to his lips, Master Vo paused a moment, a moment just long enough to make Taami despair that he had failed, before nodding his approval. Taami struggled to keep his relief from showing. The tea making ritual was a long and tedious one, but after a week at the temple he seemed to be getting the hang of it. With another bow, Taami rose and turned to leave. He had almost reached the rooms exit when his Master spoke.
In a firm but quiet voice, one that nonetheless carried easily to Taami’s ears, Master Vo asked, ‘Are all of your duties completed for today?’. Cursing internally, Taami turned to reply.
‘Almost, Master Vo’, he said looking at the floor and not wanting to elaborate. A gentle breeze blew through the open windows of the stone building, it made the candles flicker and the shadows dance, the colours of the sunset having almost faded by this point.
‘You’ve finished your studies?’
‘Yes Master’.
‘Swept the floors?’
‘I have Master’.
‘Said your prayers?’
‘Yes Master’, Said Taami, looking up as if to plea for his release, ‘I was just about to prepare for be- ‘.
‘And the sacred grove?’ interrupted the elder.
Reluctantly, Taami admitted, ‘No Master Vo’, and then quickly continued, ‘But is it really necessary? I’ve attended to it diligently over the past few days, and I know there isn’t any fruit that’s likely to ripen tonight. Surely, the trees can endure one day being left alone. It’s already dark after all…’ This appeal became steadily quieter as the bearing of Master Vo changed subtly. Something new in his expression made it perfectly clear to Taami what he thought of his opinion without having to vocalise. He did so anyway.
In the same tone as before, he said, ‘Caring for the sacred grove is the single most important task you have, and failure to fulfil that duty carries with it the most severe punishment’.
‘Right away Mast Vo’, said Taami, not needing any further encouragement. He left the room briskly, glancing once at the night sky as he did so, trepidation clear upon his face.
So it was that Taami stood, with the moon low and thin, and the lights of the temple distant behind him, before the sacred grove in almost complete darkness. The wind blew, stronger here than at the temple which was sheltered by the curve of the valley, it made the trees creak – and sob faintly during the more forceful gusts. The whisper of leaves was conspicuously absent, for the sacred trees remained barren of these regardless of the time of year.
Not wanting to spend anymore time then was required here, Taami set about his work. Illuminated by a small, covered candle, Taami would, after kneeling and saying a short prayer, apply a thick layer of red paint around the circumference of each tree, tracing the line of the previous days work. At the first touch of his brush to the first tree, the entire glade would erupt into hideous screaming. The tree being tended would let out an anguished cry, rolling out from somewhere deep within its core, and the others would respond as if out of fear. Taami did his best to ignore the cacophony. He worked with haste but endeavoured not to touch the trees with his bare hands, for even the briefest contact would make the trees roar even louder – louder, and (though he could never be sure he was not imagining this second detail), with a more hostile tone. His labour continued in this manner until, almost at the end, he noticed with a curse that he had lied to Master Vo. One high branch did in fact bear fruit. It was large, and ripe, and likely close to falling. He would probably be reprimanded for his negligence, as one of his strictest instructions was to not let any of the sacred fruit touch the ground. Swearing under his breath, Taami climbed onto a stool set aside for this very purpose and reached for the dangling fruit. Grasping and pulling strongly with a single motion, Taami couldn’t help but feel a very odd sensation: the feeling of the fruit *beating*. Beating very much like a heart. Taami had never felt a heart beat between his fingers but the comparison formed quite naturally in his mind. Wondering briefly at this phenomenon, he was distracted by the trees response to his action. It screamed now louder than he had heard any scream before. He felt the vibrations in the ground and was obliged to put his hands over his ears. Even more surprising, he could make out a word in the cry of this tree.
‘NOOOOOOOOO!’
This was too much for Taami. Throwing aside the paint and the candle, but maintaining enough composure to keep the fruit, now lifeless, firmly in his grasp, he ran with all his strength back towards the temple.
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I watched as my breath frosted above me. Breathing in and out again and again. The frost forming a cloud above me.
“What have I gotten myself into,” I said to the cold morning air.
The rough wool blanket scratched again at my bare chest. It had been doing that all night. The smooth wooden bunk dug at my back as I tried in vain to relieve the pressure on my back.
It had been a long hard night and I dreaded that it was now coming to an end.
The first bell tolled out in the early morning cold.
“Fine,” I said to myself. “I can do this gain”
Trying to give myself as much courage as I could. It wasn’t much, but here I was and I had better make the best of it.
I tossed the wool blanket aside and regreted every decision I had ever made in my life. Every stupid and idiotic choice that had gotten me here. My first full day the the Monastery of Light.
I laughed a little at the name and slapped myself to try and get the blood flowing in my arms. They felt like they had frozen the night before.
I looked at the archway that was a window into my room. Couldn’t they at least hang a blanket or something over it this time of year. It had to be at least ten below freezing.
I gave my room one more look over. There was my plain wood desk in the corner. With all the amenities I would expect at home. Ink bottle, old fashioned quill pen and blank paper. Just like what I had given up to be here. I laughed at the comedy of it all.
I rolled out of bed and onto the floor. The floor was harder than my bed. I wasn’t sure how that could be. It was wood in both cases.
But, there in the floor were the two deep grooves cut by a millennia of kneeling acolytes. Each one arriving on their first day to a freezing room, a hard bed and rough covers. To start their journey into enlightenment and higher understanding. Or at least that is what the Monk from yesterday had said. Yesterday seemed so long ago.
He had also instructed me to kneel in prayer from the first bell, until the first grey of morning broken into my room. It was then and only then that I could come from my room and meet him at the inner sanctum for my first lesson.
I didn’t know what to pray for or what really to do, so I knelt in those groves. I stayed there for at least for five minutes. Until my knees hurt so bad I had to stand and get some circulation back in them. At least the pain in my knees distracted me from the constant shivering from the cold. How could I be expected to live in just light cotton pants and nothing else.
I sat and shivered until the first grey of the morning broke into my room. I hated this place already. It could only get worse from here on out.
I made my way out the door and down the hall. Holding myself to try and keep warm.
When Brother McMaster meet my eyes he grinned. A stupid grin I wanted to wipe off his face with an axe. I was cold, tired and now hungry. My knees hurt and my back ached from the hard bed. I just wanted this morning to be over, so that I could get back to that corse blanket and a measure of warmth. But, I knew the chances of that were very slim. The other mornings hadn’t gone well and I didn’t expect this one too.
“Good morning Brother,” Brother McMaster said to me.
“Morning,” I grumbled back.
“Did you sleep well,” he asked.
I just glared at him.
From a sactual he had hung at his waist he pulled a thin cotton shirt and handed it to me. I eagerly took it and put it on. It was always my favorite part of the morning. Feeling the warmth of the thin covering brought some measure of comfort.
Brother McMaster nodded in satisfaction, “you are now ready to enter the inner sanctum.”
He turned to a set of large doors set in the great stone wall of the Monastery. He raised one arm and pointed at it.
“Yesterday you took the oaths and received the covenants to enter here. Only an acolyte as yourself may enter and only after you have received the oaths.”
He turned to me and meet my eyes. They were soft and knowing. Maybe he knew what I had just gone through to be here. What I now wanted more then anything and the reason for leaving everything behind. For the light and knowledge that the sanctum held.
“You will proceed into the sanctum. Once inside the outer doors you are to close them. Once closed you may open the inner doors and enter the sanctum.” He paused and looked up at the massive wall that surrounded the sanctum.
He then continued, “I would remind you of the covenant you have taken to enter into. That you are to never speak of what you see or hear inside. That you are to never even share with with other Brothers of Light. That it is a personal experience that you will only get now and once again as you obtain the 10th dawn.”
I nodded in understanding.
I turned and walked to the massive doors. The golden handle was carved like a branch, its leaves forming the mechanism to open the door. I pulled it and entered.
As I closed the door I saw the worried face of Brother McMaster. I wondered what he could be worried about.
I took a deep breath and turned to the inner doors. I had prepared my whole life for this moment. I haven't always been the most faithful follower and the way. But, I knew that one day I wanted to stand here and face the sanctum. To be taught and receive the truth and light that could only be found in the sanctum. This time I would have the courage and straight I needed.
I reached out and grabbed the handle and pulled. The doors swung open and I was greeted with the greatest sight I had ever seen.
In the sanctum stood hundreds of trees, each one reaching up into a mist covered sky. Their tall limbs reaching up and out of site. They were as big around as a house and taller than any skyscraper I had ever seen.
I wondered how such massive trees could be contained in such a small building. Well, I would have wondered that had I not been overwhelmed by the sound. Each tree screeching in a high pitched wail. It pierced me to my soul and and smashed into my brain like an ice pick.
I crumpled to the ground and held my ears. I just wanted the sound to go away. What had I gotten myself into. This was supposed to be enlightenment and understanding. That whatever or whoever was in the sanctum was going to show me my future and the way.
Then my eardrums burst and releaf flooded into me as well as darkness. I had passed out.
I awoke again in my bed. Puffing out clouds of frost above me. The same hard bed under me and the same rough wool blanket. What had I gotten myself into. I thought for sure I would get it this time. That the trees won't overwhelm me.
Again the first bell rang and I sat up on the side of my bed. This time I would beat it. This time I would make it further then my eardrums rupturing and I wouldn’t pass out. I hadn’t been able to the last twenty times. But, at least the power of the Monastery let me live the same day over until I get it right.
*******
Thank you for reading. If you liked this check out my other writing on /r/etbrey/ 4/52
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[WP] The sword Excalibur exists in this world (the one from King Arthur legend of the sword powers included) but the Pendragon bloodline died out centuries age and the sword was embedded in stone ever since, it's now a tourist attraction and you just pulled the sword from the stone.
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“Bruv, you’ve got to be quieter, yeah? We’ll get nicked if you keep acting up! I don’t need to get fired.”
“Fired, why? You work here and its your job to show people around the museum, fam!”
“During the day, you git. Not late at night, drunk, and certainly not in here!”
“Aaah.. it were all Artie’s fault anyway, wasn’t it? He’s the one whats pining over Gwen!”
The others seemed to agree it was all my fault and, I suppose, it was true in a way. Gwen was Guinevere Alice Elizabeth Allen Windsor, properly Princess Guinevere. She was the third daughter, but fifth child, of the fourth son of King Harry, so the whole royal family would have to be wiped out before she got the throne.
Me? I was the American born bastard of a minor lord who had the money to get me into Cambridge. Arthur William Pendleton at your service. You can imagine the ribbing I got in school back in the States. Still, the Arthurian legends and histories fascinated me and, when I met Gwen at school, I was more determined than ever to do what they said couldn’t be done.
Silly? Sure, but dreams… dreams are powerful things. Lust is too.
So here we were, in the infamous Tower of London. Markus, a classmate and son of a minor lord, had a part time job giving tours here to school children. He was a history major at school, so it made sense in a way, and it provided him with some extra coin to drink up on the weekends.
With his employee security pass we were able to come in through the employee entrances and bypassed the folderol the common tourists were forced to endure out front. We made our way through the museum, being quiet as church mice… okay, drunken church mice.
Unlike the crown jewels that were behind the most impressive security I had ever heard of, the sword and stone were behind a velvet rope. The stone weighed in at well over two Imperial tonnes and no one was going to stick it in a bag and make off with it after all.
“There, you’ve seen it. Can we go now?” Markus asked, wringing his hands.
“Sure thing, Markus. Right after I do this.” I told him happily, stepping over the rope and wrapping my fingers around the well-worn, plain wood grip.
That’s all I recall. Really! I woke up some indeterminate time later in a jail cell. Okay, fine, be pedantic. No, I didn’t know it was a jail cell. I woke up, manacled to what appeared to be a hospital bed, complete with beeping monitors and an IV in my left arm. The room was otherwise featureless except for a solid steel door with no handle on this side and a long lighting fixture sunk into the ceiling with a heavy wire mesh over it. Happy now? Can I continue?
Anyway, I woke up in a jail cell. I suppose there must have been a camera in there because when I raised my head to get a look around, and rattled my manacled hands too, there was a harsh clunking sound and the imposing steel door opened inward.
My, oh my. That nurse looked a little like Princess Meghan, King Harry’s beautiful wi… um… the guards with her were glaring at me as if daring me to breath.
“Your highness. I would bow but I seem to be restrained.” I said, carefully. I was not one to bow and scrape, I was an American no matter that half my genetic material came from here. Still, I didn’t want to piss off the heavily armed men who were scowling at me, did I? No I did not.
“Arthur, Guinevere tells me that you are a very nice young man, once she is quite fond of.” Princess Meghan said, her hands folded demurely over her still flat and trim middle. Four Sons and she looked as good as she did when she was an actress. GILF!
“I am glad to hear she does not think badly of me, your highness. A schoolboy prank gone wrong, or so I would have thought. I can’t imagine why I am in the dungeon.” I told her, cracking a smile.
She laughed and the sound was delightful. “You know, when Harry and I first started dating, I asked him if there really were dungeons that the Queen could toss people in to for displeasing her. He told me that they really did exist, but were tourist traps these days. Instead, she had them jailed ‘At the Queen’s Pleasure.” That meant that they stayed in jail until she stopped being mad. Since she held a grudge until it died of old age, then had it stuffed and mounted so she could keep it with her, that could be a very, very long time.”
I listened in fascination. In the US, Princess Meghan was as much a legend as Princess Grace had been generations before. She was an American girl, of mixed heritage too, and she had married an honest to god Prince. The death of his older brother left him on the throne when Prince Charles abdicated after his stroke, and Princess Meghan was the next best thing to a Queen. I think every boy in America had a crush on her at one time or another.
“So, am I to be jail until the King forgives me?” I asked, making a joke of it, but seriously concerned at this point. They didn’t send the wife of the King to deal with pranksters.
“No, actually.” she said, an odd look on her face. She nodded to the guards who, unhappily, came forward to undo my shackles.
Nothing more was said as I was handed my clothes. The Princess turned her back with a grin on her face, and allowed me to get dressed without embarrassing myself. From the cell we traveled silently up several levels via elevator and came out, much to my surprise, in the museum again! We really had been in the dungeons of the Tower of London!
I recognized the route we took and I wasn’t all that surprised when I found myself back in front of the stone again. There, laying on the carpet, being closely guarded by what seemed like a company of fully armed and armored troops… was Excalibur.
“Arthur, if you would be so kind as to pick up that sword.” King Harry entered the room, his voice instantly recognizable and it took everything I had in me to keep from falling to my knees. That he had Gwen with him, the girl I had been obsessing over was, strangely, a minor thing.
Yeah, I know, I know, that whole American’s don’t fawn thing. Fuck that, the man had the power to make me disappear! He had almost single-handedly made Britain a world power again. He had overseen the return of the British Empire and was counted as the second, maybe third depending on who you asked, most powerful man in the world.
“Your majesty, I beg your pardon?” I squeaked out.
“Your sword, Arthur. Pick it up, please.” he asked quietly, his eyes locked on mine.
Almost against my own volition, I bent and my hand wrapped around the hilt of the sword. I was ready for another great shock but, instead, I felt warmth spread up my arm and through my body. In my head a small voice was heard, “At long last...”
When I looked up from the otherwise unremarkable sword in my hand, every person in the room, including King Harry, Princess Meghan and Princess Guinevere, were kneeling.
Oh fuck.
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I hefted the sword in my hand placing one booted foot on the stone. The sword was heavy, but comfortable. It sang of the things we would do. The glorious wars we would fight. Honor and justice and power and lust and destruction. It all coursed through me as I held the sword aloft.
The sword sang to me, and I reveled in it.
"Put that back!"
A young woman stood at the edge of the crowd. She was out of breath, as though she had been running. And she was *drenched*.
"Huh?" I asked, mouth-agape.
"I said put that back." she repeated sternly, wiping wet hair out of her eyes to fix me with a glare.
I quickly slid the sword back into the stone and sheepishly stood to the side.
"Oh?" A high, sharp voice taunted. "Not starting a crusade of honor and glory, then?" The crowd cackled and my ears burned with shame.
But what had I done wrong?
The man that had waited in line behind me tut-tutted and I tried to shrink into my clothes. But what had I *done*?
"Idiot child." He said, pushing past me. "The sword's not the prize."
I watched as he strained against the sword, muscles bulging, not pulling...rather *pushing*...
The stone resisted. With a start, I realized what that meant. The stone resisted *Excalibur*!
"The man's words jumped at me again: "The sword's not the prize."
*The stone is.*
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[WP] The sword Excalibur exists in this world (the one from King Arthur legend of the sword powers included) but the Pendragon bloodline died out centuries age and the sword was embedded in stone ever since, it's now a tourist attraction and you just pulled the sword from the stone.
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“Bruv, you’ve got to be quieter, yeah? We’ll get nicked if you keep acting up! I don’t need to get fired.”
“Fired, why? You work here and its your job to show people around the museum, fam!”
“During the day, you git. Not late at night, drunk, and certainly not in here!”
“Aaah.. it were all Artie’s fault anyway, wasn’t it? He’s the one whats pining over Gwen!”
The others seemed to agree it was all my fault and, I suppose, it was true in a way. Gwen was Guinevere Alice Elizabeth Allen Windsor, properly Princess Guinevere. She was the third daughter, but fifth child, of the fourth son of King Harry, so the whole royal family would have to be wiped out before she got the throne.
Me? I was the American born bastard of a minor lord who had the money to get me into Cambridge. Arthur William Pendleton at your service. You can imagine the ribbing I got in school back in the States. Still, the Arthurian legends and histories fascinated me and, when I met Gwen at school, I was more determined than ever to do what they said couldn’t be done.
Silly? Sure, but dreams… dreams are powerful things. Lust is too.
So here we were, in the infamous Tower of London. Markus, a classmate and son of a minor lord, had a part time job giving tours here to school children. He was a history major at school, so it made sense in a way, and it provided him with some extra coin to drink up on the weekends.
With his employee security pass we were able to come in through the employee entrances and bypassed the folderol the common tourists were forced to endure out front. We made our way through the museum, being quiet as church mice… okay, drunken church mice.
Unlike the crown jewels that were behind the most impressive security I had ever heard of, the sword and stone were behind a velvet rope. The stone weighed in at well over two Imperial tonnes and no one was going to stick it in a bag and make off with it after all.
“There, you’ve seen it. Can we go now?” Markus asked, wringing his hands.
“Sure thing, Markus. Right after I do this.” I told him happily, stepping over the rope and wrapping my fingers around the well-worn, plain wood grip.
That’s all I recall. Really! I woke up some indeterminate time later in a jail cell. Okay, fine, be pedantic. No, I didn’t know it was a jail cell. I woke up, manacled to what appeared to be a hospital bed, complete with beeping monitors and an IV in my left arm. The room was otherwise featureless except for a solid steel door with no handle on this side and a long lighting fixture sunk into the ceiling with a heavy wire mesh over it. Happy now? Can I continue?
Anyway, I woke up in a jail cell. I suppose there must have been a camera in there because when I raised my head to get a look around, and rattled my manacled hands too, there was a harsh clunking sound and the imposing steel door opened inward.
My, oh my. That nurse looked a little like Princess Meghan, King Harry’s beautiful wi… um… the guards with her were glaring at me as if daring me to breath.
“Your highness. I would bow but I seem to be restrained.” I said, carefully. I was not one to bow and scrape, I was an American no matter that half my genetic material came from here. Still, I didn’t want to piss off the heavily armed men who were scowling at me, did I? No I did not.
“Arthur, Guinevere tells me that you are a very nice young man, once she is quite fond of.” Princess Meghan said, her hands folded demurely over her still flat and trim middle. Four Sons and she looked as good as she did when she was an actress. GILF!
“I am glad to hear she does not think badly of me, your highness. A schoolboy prank gone wrong, or so I would have thought. I can’t imagine why I am in the dungeon.” I told her, cracking a smile.
She laughed and the sound was delightful. “You know, when Harry and I first started dating, I asked him if there really were dungeons that the Queen could toss people in to for displeasing her. He told me that they really did exist, but were tourist traps these days. Instead, she had them jailed ‘At the Queen’s Pleasure.” That meant that they stayed in jail until she stopped being mad. Since she held a grudge until it died of old age, then had it stuffed and mounted so she could keep it with her, that could be a very, very long time.”
I listened in fascination. In the US, Princess Meghan was as much a legend as Princess Grace had been generations before. She was an American girl, of mixed heritage too, and she had married an honest to god Prince. The death of his older brother left him on the throne when Prince Charles abdicated after his stroke, and Princess Meghan was the next best thing to a Queen. I think every boy in America had a crush on her at one time or another.
“So, am I to be jail until the King forgives me?” I asked, making a joke of it, but seriously concerned at this point. They didn’t send the wife of the King to deal with pranksters.
“No, actually.” she said, an odd look on her face. She nodded to the guards who, unhappily, came forward to undo my shackles.
Nothing more was said as I was handed my clothes. The Princess turned her back with a grin on her face, and allowed me to get dressed without embarrassing myself. From the cell we traveled silently up several levels via elevator and came out, much to my surprise, in the museum again! We really had been in the dungeons of the Tower of London!
I recognized the route we took and I wasn’t all that surprised when I found myself back in front of the stone again. There, laying on the carpet, being closely guarded by what seemed like a company of fully armed and armored troops… was Excalibur.
“Arthur, if you would be so kind as to pick up that sword.” King Harry entered the room, his voice instantly recognizable and it took everything I had in me to keep from falling to my knees. That he had Gwen with him, the girl I had been obsessing over was, strangely, a minor thing.
Yeah, I know, I know, that whole American’s don’t fawn thing. Fuck that, the man had the power to make me disappear! He had almost single-handedly made Britain a world power again. He had overseen the return of the British Empire and was counted as the second, maybe third depending on who you asked, most powerful man in the world.
“Your majesty, I beg your pardon?” I squeaked out.
“Your sword, Arthur. Pick it up, please.” he asked quietly, his eyes locked on mine.
Almost against my own volition, I bent and my hand wrapped around the hilt of the sword. I was ready for another great shock but, instead, I felt warmth spread up my arm and through my body. In my head a small voice was heard, “At long last...”
When I looked up from the otherwise unremarkable sword in my hand, every person in the room, including King Harry, Princess Meghan and Princess Guinevere, were kneeling.
Oh fuck.
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Today is the day. My parents have finally kept their promise to take me to Camelot World. I’m more than excited to finally get there. I have been obsessed with Camelot since my dad read me Arthurs tale to me when I was 4 years old. Now that I am 12 and can read for myself I have read all the different versions from the classic French medieval literature to the modern impetrations of him. He saw a resurgence in popularity a couple years ago after Disney realise a film about him. Some people decided to build Camelot World around his famous sword Excalibur which still rests in the stone he put it in all those years ago. It’s hard to believe that he was a real character as there have been so many stories about him and what he did. Evan harder when Excalibur is right there, shining in all it’s glory, just waiting to be wielded again, it’s not even rusted though it has seen the passage of time for a thousand years or more. Everyone knows that his bloodline ended centuries ago so that is unlikely to happen, yet people still try and hoist it out of the rock to see if they are worthy.
I get in the car and we set off, it’s not a long journey to get there and I’m talking to them all the way through the journey even though I see their look of annoyance on their faces I can’t stop myself. Camelot World has a large carpark and it is half full by the time we get there with lots of families taking their kids to see the attraction as well as several lone adults wishing to see it as well. The tickets into the park aren’t too expensive I see as I read the sign as we enter the park and step back in time. It’s all made to look like Anglo-Saxon Britain when Arthur was meant to rule the land and it was known as Albion. Once we are in the park I try to race off to see it all, but my father keeps me close at hand saying he didn’t want me getting lost. There are people wondering around in costumes from that time, each giving facts about what it was like to live under the rule of Arthur. We see blacksmiths and farmers, weavers and merchants. As we get closer to the main attraction at the centre of Camelot World we see knights wondering around and sometimes they fight each other to the cheering of the crowd. There are many building to look at as well, all built from wood or even mud with hay roofs like there were in that age and it’s so interesting to see how we once lived.
We finally get to the sword in the stone and it is just as I imagined. A great big shining blade able to cut through anything with a simple handle. Everyone gets to have a go at pulling it out of the stone and of course no one does. My dad tries before me and nothing happens. Now it is my go and as my fist wraps around the handle I feel the sword vibrate with power. I give it a yank and it comes out of the stone so easily. Everyone around me has a face of shock. They all must be thinking how a 12-year-old could be worthy of wielding such power, but the sword has chosen me and I feel proud of that. My dad tries to take it from me of course, saying it is too dangerous for someone so young to wield but as he takes the handle to sword vibrates again and he goes flying off like he’s just received an electric shock.
“Dad I don’t think you can take it off me, it has chosen me” I say as he gets up and he nods.
“The young man is smart at least, I have waited so long for your return Arthur, the world has greatly change since you was last here” an old man says who I’d not notice before, he was dressed as Merlin and held one of his hands a staff whilst the other held the scabbard for Excalibur.
“You think I’m Arthur but that’s not my name” I say to him.
“I know that you are Arthur no matter what you claim to go by now, you did pull the sword from the stone after all and only he did that” Merlin said.
“That is true, so I’m like the reincarnation of him?” I ask.
“Well I guess you could say that and with my help you will remember your past life and be Arthur once again” Merlin said.
“Who are you?” I ask.
“I am Merlin of course, I’m surprised you don’t recognise me” Merlin said.
“Well I can see that you are dressed like him but I thought you was one of the actors at this place” I reply.
“Ah understandable mistake. I am no actor I am the man himself, here to help you in whatever way I can, now come with me we have a lot to do” Merlin said with a smile and a beckoning hand.
“My son will go nowhere with an old man like you” my dad said finding his voice.
“Ah the father and I sense the mother close by as well, you may come as well, Arthur is not yet old enough to do what needs to be done and we have a lot to do” Merlin said.
“Let’s go with him dad” I say.
“No, I will not allow it” my dad replies.
“You ever come willing with me or I take the boy anyway, you can’t stop a wizard” Merlin says.
“Just watch me” my dad replies and he charges at Merlin who just points his staff and my dad freezes where he is.
“Come boy” Merlin says.
“He’ll be ok, won’t he?” I ask.
“Fine as soon as I’m away from here he shall unfreeze” Merlin said with a smile.
“Ok” I say and I go with him, my mum also comes with us and once we are out of the park Merlin taps his staff on the ground and we are transported to a tower like none I’ve ever seen.
“This shall be your home for a while whilst I train you” Merlin says and I merely nod.
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[WP] A vampire commissions you to paint a portrait of her, she's spent centuries wanting to know how she looks.
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“Paint me.”
I never knew two simple words could seduce me so easily, but this was one tall drink I could not resist. Twelve long hours in the studio had me hungry for some actual human interaction, and maybe even the touch of a woman. Felicia approached me first. I was lost in a whirlwind of ideas and techniques I wanted to pursue in the coming days at the studio. I guess it was the portfolio in my hands that tipped her off as to my profession, but the way she spoke was so inviting that I hung on every word as it passed her cherry red lips.
It wasn’t long before we walked back to the studio talking of small things in this big world. While we walked, I took in her features. I knew I would have to take all of her in if I wanted to do my job and do it right. I’ve been an artist all my life, and a slight perfectionist, so Felicia was perfect for me. Her face was gentle and knowing, and her eyes were a hazel that almost looked gray, if you looked at it in the right light. She had chestnut brown hair flowing freely in the wind as she gracefully took each step. It was almost as if she was sure of every step she was taking, as if she’d owned the very earth we both stepped on. I couldn’t help but be entranced by the aura she seemed to emit. This was the kind of person I’d been wanting to paint for my whole life. I felt like I was marching towards a new future, anchored by merry thoughts about the renown I would receive from being able to put such a creature to paper.
It was long work, long and challenging. There were moments where I doubted my ability to bring her to life. I painted and painted… and repainted. But despite my inner struggles, on the outside I was calm and driven to finish. Felicia waited intently. She had not said a word since I had begun painting, only looked at me intently, as if waiting for me to give her the final nod that indicated the end of my work. And then, in the dead of night, I finished. Just like that. There she was, on the canvas. I had to admit that it was the best piece I had ever created. I looked Felicia dead in the eyes… and nodded. Before I could even register it, she was next to me, looking at the picture. She looked for a long while. I looked for a long while too. Before either of us managed to break the silence, she broke into tears. My clients are usually ecstatic when I finish my works, but when I looked at Felicia, it seemed like something inside of her had broken. She was angry and sad and happy and amazed and everything in between. Every emotion in the book flashing across her face. But at the end of it all there was just tears, and a blank face. As if she were somewhere, further away. Her tears flowed freely and all I could do was wait silently for her to feel up to talking.
I managed to sit her down and get her to drink some water. She didn’t take her eyes off the painting for a long time.
“That’s the first time I’ve seen what I look like.” She said simply. Confusion filled me.
“What?” I asked.
“You have given me something worth more to me than all of my years combined.” She said to me earnestly.
“You’re welcome!” I said easily. I always appreciated hearing kind words about my pieces.
“John, you have satisfied the one desire I have had since I was brought back into this world. Anything at all, you name it and it’s yours.”
She stared at me.
I stared back.
At that point her eyes were devouring me. We were staring for a long time; however, I had known the answer before she even asked the question.
“Felicia, the only thing I would take in return of this work of art, is another one in return.” I looked at her pointedly, my implication clear. A smile curled up at the side of her lips, and she had a wicked grin.
”Then we are each other’s, forever.” And before I knew it, she was at my neck.
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"Why have you given me a blank canvas" said the women.
"Honey, I promise, the paint will not stick," said the painter, "It is as if your body will not be painted." The artist pulled a canvas out of box that had been brought in and placed on the easel. He then easily painted the wall where the lady had once been. He tried again and again and all through night and day, all he could make was a painting of the wall. One of those paintings would go on to be quite famous, but Van Gogh would never reveal what really went on that day, nor why this lady received his ear.
Alternatively,
It was truly a masterpiece, thought David. A young man in his early college years. He turned the canvas towards his subject. Everything about the piece was masterful, even the brushstrokes. David had no idea what made it so beautiful, he had been flunking for the past 3 months.
"Marvelous!" said the women. She went off into another room to grab something, leaving David to stare at his art. It almost seemed to fade, even if ever so slowly, when he squinted at it. She came back with a check for $1,000. He couldn't believe his luck.
"Thank you so much!" she said.
"No, I'm just amazed it turned out so well."
David would never find out, but the painting would go on to sell for millions because in less than 20 years, all that would be left would be red brushstrokes.
Honestly surprised I didn't see something like this already.
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[WP] A vampire commissions you to paint a portrait of her, she's spent centuries wanting to know how she looks.
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First of all, this chick has a reflection. I saw it as she waltzed across the studio to me and lorded over my desk. There she was, mirrored in my black coffee, as clear as a photograph. She didn't even realize it but I did.
She told me that she was a vampire. Mind you, this announcement wasn’t done in a normal way, like someone saying, "I'm Jewish," or, "I'm American," or even, "I'm Libertarian." No, this chick, she went for drama. All drama. Dressed in the gothic Lolita style and taking baby steps across the floor like she was mimicking a ballerina.
Her accent? A fake number. I was not sure what she was gunning for. French? Posh English? Russian? It switched with every other word. My guess, her real accent is probably some heavy regional American accent. A Masshole accent given the crowd that swims around this part of town. But I get it, why she was putting a fake one on. Who has ever heard of a Boston vampire? I almost laughed in her face at the thought of it. A Boston vampire. No, a Boston *”vampah!”* Again, like I said, I get it. If you are going to run around playing vampire, you want to sound the part. At least she looked the part easy enough. I used to be like her when I was her age. I had my own macabre style down. Only I was Goth. Listened to Red Lorry, Yellow Lorry. Had my own subscription to Propaganda. And certainly owned my fair share of black clothing. Though this chick had one up on me. She had fangs. Realistic ones too. Not the pearly white ones that they sell at those pop-up Halloween stores every year. These were a bit yellow. A bit off colored. Like natural teeth.
She went on and said that she had not seen her reflection in centuries. Said this while pressing her hand against her temple and throwing her head back in fashion. Like I said, drama. She wanted me to paint her so that she could see her face again. Then she slammed a stack of hundreds down on my desk. Two grand worth in total.
How could I say no? I've got bills to pay.
So, here I am painting her as she sits in the armchair like a queen. I can't say that I mind at all. I don't get to do portraits much anymore. These days, everyone would rather be immortalized through selfies. That means I am stuck doing commercial work. One can only do so much cereal box art before one starts to crack.
She is so quiet though. Usually, I like to talk to my clients. Helps me get a feel for them.
From my canvas, I dip my toe. "So, Clara," that was the name she gave me, Clara Bloodstone. Yep, that’s a winner. "How did you become a vampire?"
She doesn't move a muscle except for her mouth. "I was bitten, silly. Just like every other vampire."
"Oh, of course, of course.” I mock hit my forehead. “And who bit you?"
"A duke. Sabriel Van Blut. The most beautiful man you will ever meet."
Surprised she didn't go for a prince or a king. But, hey, a duke is still royalty.
"How did you meet this duke?" I rinse my paintbrush and switch colors. "Were you a royal as well?"
A smile twitches across her face for a second. "Oh, yes. I was a princess. My father was a king of a mountain kingdom."
Okay, she made herself the higher royal. Cute. A bit bat shit crazy but, hey, two grand allows you to say anything you want.
"So, this duke? Did he attack you? Like you two met, fell in love and you learned his secret. And then he bit you. Turned you because he couldn’t bare to be without you or something? Or did he just say like, “Hi,” and then BAM! Went straight for the throat?"
She frowns. I feel like I’ve just crossed a line even though I am not sure where the line is with this girl. I rinse my brush again and drop my gaze.
"Why are you asking so many questions?" she says in a deadpan voice.
"Just making small talk."
"Over me being a vampire?"
Her tone, the sudden coldness of it, is making the hair on my arms stand up. I am not sure why. This girl is about half my height and size. And yet the lizard part of my brain is lighting up. Something is telling me to run.
"Are you making fun of me?" she asks. "I saw you laugh."
I put down my brush. I am being called out. I don't like it. "I didn't laugh."
"I saw your face. You did."
Two thousand dollars, I tell myself. Two thousand dollars. It's already in my desk. I am not giving it back. Even if this does go further south. I hold my breath and count to five. I look back at her. "I'm sorry, Clara, if you mistook me. I did not laugh."
"You don't think I am a vampire."
The lizard part of my brain is starting to wake up the rest of my brain. I am at a loss for words.
But she makes up for it. "I am a vampire." She is staring at me unblinking. "I've taken lives."
Shit. We are now moving from geeky, I have a Twilight altar in my bedroom crazy to I plan to wear your scalp like a hat crazy. I step back from my canvas. "I think we should end this session for today, Clara. You are starting to say things that are making me feel uncomfortable."
She smiles wide. Purposely showing her fangs. Only with her mouth open as such, I can see the edge of them. Where her real teeth end and the prosthetic begins. I should feel better about this. The fakeness of it all. This girl playing Hollywood vampire. Only I don't.
"Clara, I think you should leave."
She rises from her chair. Still smiling. Eyes locking with mine. A low growl comes from her. Rumbling deep within her chest. Reminds me of a tiger. Of a predator.
"Clara."
"I'm thirsty."
"This isn't a game."
"I'm not playing. I am so thirsty."
"You're not a vampire, Clara. You are just a girl who likes to think she is. Who likes to *play* she is. You're not supernatural."
She takes one tiny step toward over me. Her feet pad in complete silence. "Supernatural. Natural. What does it matter? All a vampire is in the end is someone who drinks blood.” Another step. “I drink blood."
My own heart falls to my stomach. "Don't."
“But I am so thirsty."
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"Why have you given me a blank canvas" said the women.
"Honey, I promise, the paint will not stick," said the painter, "It is as if your body will not be painted." The artist pulled a canvas out of box that had been brought in and placed on the easel. He then easily painted the wall where the lady had once been. He tried again and again and all through night and day, all he could make was a painting of the wall. One of those paintings would go on to be quite famous, but Van Gogh would never reveal what really went on that day, nor why this lady received his ear.
Alternatively,
It was truly a masterpiece, thought David. A young man in his early college years. He turned the canvas towards his subject. Everything about the piece was masterful, even the brushstrokes. David had no idea what made it so beautiful, he had been flunking for the past 3 months.
"Marvelous!" said the women. She went off into another room to grab something, leaving David to stare at his art. It almost seemed to fade, even if ever so slowly, when he squinted at it. She came back with a check for $1,000. He couldn't believe his luck.
"Thank you so much!" she said.
"No, I'm just amazed it turned out so well."
David would never find out, but the painting would go on to sell for millions because in less than 20 years, all that would be left would be red brushstrokes.
Honestly surprised I didn't see something like this already.
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[WP] A vampire commissions you to paint a portrait of her, she's spent centuries wanting to know how she looks.
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Lindsay gave the canvas its final brush strokes. She looked to her subject, in her regal pose, and back to the portrait. She believed she had captured her essence, immortalized it, and yet she found herself holding her breath as tightly as her brush. Should I --?
"What is it?" Lady Isabella demanded. "What is wrong?"
"Nothing." Lindsay put down her palette. There was nothing else to do but -- "It's done. Come and look."
She was aware her voice was cracking even before seeing the vampire's look at her. Lindsay cast her eyes at the floor, afraid that "look" had been a "gaze", the beginning of a trance. She'd be properly commissioned for this work, not commanded, but that didn't make her feel any better.
Gathering her cloak about her, Lady Isabella slowly stepped toward the artist, rounding the easel. Centuries after being erased from her vanity, she'd finally see herself once again. This was the moment. She turned and looked at long last!
The vampire recoiled in horror at the sight as surely as if the artist beheld a fistful of fresh garlic bulbs!
Lady Isabella pointed a sharpened finger toward the cowering Lindsay. "Tell me! Answer me honestly!" She struggled to find the words. Pointing back to the portrait. "Is that image true?"
Lindsay heard the command, though she didn't feel compelled. That didn't make the response any easier. "Y-y-yes. Yes, it is."
Eyes reddened and brows furled in anger ... and softened to sadness. If the undead could shed tears, the floor would've dampened. Instead, she closed up her cloak around her slim figure and withdrew to the window. She looked out upon the night and the creatures roaming the hills. She wanted to flee and seek their solace. So deep in thought was she, a hand on her shoulder startled her back into the moment. She whirled to see Lindsay with a box of tissues.
So absorbed had she been in her own misery that for the first time in three centuries, a human had been able to creep up on her, across squeaky floorboards at that!
"I-I-I could ..." the artist stammered. "I could add some color to pallor. Some rouge to the cheeks, maybe??"
Was she trying to be helpful, or trying to preserve her life? Isabella thought for what Lindsay might consider eternity, if only because she'd never considered eternity itself.
"No," she responded finally. "I accept that as it is. But I have two more questions I need answered."
Nodding in agreement and relief. "Sure. Anything. Shoot!"
Lady Isabella reached out and took Lindsay's face in her hands. "Do you do your own makeup? And can you show me how?"
Edit: rogue -> rouge
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“Oh, you want me to paint you?” asked a confused Clarence slightly startled by the 1800s looking vampire standing at the foot of his bed. “Let me just take a photo of you instead on my iPhone”.
Clarence took a photo on his iPhone and showed it to the vampire.
“Well shit, this was a much easier idea” she concluded.
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[WP] A vampire commissions you to paint a portrait of her, she's spent centuries wanting to know how she looks.
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Never done this before but here goes...
She stood, looking brilliant, in her classical garb, small of stature but somehow seeming to take up most of the space in the struggling artist’s studio apartment.
“Well?” “What do you think?”
Clementine looked in disbelief at the photo taken on her smartphone, showing only the red brick wall behind the intruder.
“Not to be a boor, but I told you so.” Exclaimed the person who was now revealed to be, as she said, a vampire. Why would she be anything else? She had no reflection and caught no light so pictures captured nothing.
I suppose the only reason I can see her is that she wants me to. thought Clementine. She realized her mouth was agape and managed to slowly pick her jaw up off the floor and stammer out a confused,
“Uh, uh, o-okay”
The vampire nodded with what seemed like resigned acceptance and stated confidently,
“Then let us begin!”
“First, coffee.” The quick response surprising both herself and her guest. “It’s past midnight and if I’m to do this before dawn, I’ll be needing lots. I can’t stay up all night like you”
She turned to walk to the ‘kitchen’ and realized she had been a poor host, although also wondering if it was necessary, she turned on her heel and posited the question,
“Uuhm... would you like any?”
The vampire responded with what seemed like disgust,
“I don’t need it.”
_____________________________________________
With her easel and canvas set up, her guest posing proudly in a regal looking position, her coffee made, and her pallet set, she found herself unable to start.
“Why the delay? We haven’t much time you know.” The imposing woman asked Coolly.
“It... it’s just... why me?” Clementine asked as if her heart were in her throat.
“My dear I’ve seen your work, you’re quite good.”
Clementine was flattered.
“Besides,” the vampire continued, “Look around, this place, your belongings. No one knows who you are, and no one will ever believe you.”
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“Oh, you want me to paint you?” asked a confused Clarence slightly startled by the 1800s looking vampire standing at the foot of his bed. “Let me just take a photo of you instead on my iPhone”.
Clarence took a photo on his iPhone and showed it to the vampire.
“Well shit, this was a much easier idea” she concluded.
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[WP] A demon offers a depressed person the opportunity to erase their existence from history, but not before taking them on a journey to bear witness to all of the good they've done.
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The red circle lit up in a beautiful explosion as red light erupted blinding the entire room. And just as soon as it began it ended, Jack who covered his eyes lowered his hands to look at the centre of a circle. Standing before him was the prettiest woman he'd ever seen, granted he really hadn't seen many women but of the few she was perfect. Garbed in a stunning tight red dress and perfect makeup perfectly accentuating her bronze sunburn tinged skin and a pair of deep red iris fiercely meeting his gaze.
"..." Jack gulped.
She looked at him, the ends of her lips arching up with in a ghost of a smile.
Jack shuffled his stack of papers quickly tearing his gaze from the stunning woman, "Where is it it?" He murmured to himself.
"Wh-", Jack flinched, stumbling back into the table behind him throwing his stack of papers all over the room. She arched one eyebrow.
"Uh. Shit. I'm sorry justa moment," he mumbled quietly looking fearfully at her.
She giggled. Jack blushed pink as he struggled to pick up the papers looking at the floor and back at her completely red. She smiled and Jack blushed even harder. She waved her hand and all the papers immediately started levitating before assembling themselves and flying into Jack's hands.
"Uh.. Thanks."
"My pleasure." Her sultry voice rolled into his ear carrying with it pleasant sounding accent that didn't seem posh but rather quite pleasing to the ears.
Jack cleared his throat looking down at his papers then her. "Lilith va Rekthtern, Lady Red of the Iron Sands, I the summoner Kaj, a name that may or may not signify anything nor possibly be my given name, ask thyself to grant my wishes. However the summoner may have as per the summoner and summoning rules have free will to break free is free to ask anything under the circumstances that he or she does employ the use of powers without informing the summoner in full length of," Jack paused flipping his page, "Where the power is being used, how, what immediate and prolonged effects as well as why and may not use the summoners hesitation or silence as his voice of approval for any and all actions. Thereby I, Kaj Brekker, as the summoner lay these rules of which none can be broken. 1. The summoner must ask permission before doing anything of importance, not excluding, speaking, using powers, or asking do perform any action. 2. The summoned cannot assume any form of hesitation or ambiguous action is affirmative grounds to perform any actions. 3. The summoned may ask or speak by first asking permission, "May I speak?" 4. Unless the summoner specifically says, "I, the summoner Kaj, give you the summoned, my approval to perform action x or y," the summoned cannot assume the summoners position and perform the action anyway. 5. Even if the summoner is under extreme duress, this does not give the summoned grounds to perform as they will. 6. These rules are negotiable as long as the summoned follows the rules set by the summoner. 7. Rules may be added or taken away only by I, Kaj Brekker, the summoner alone." Jack was sweating as he finished his speech. He looked up only to find a smiling demon looking at him.
"May I speak?"
"I, the summoner Kaj, give you the summoned, my approval to voice questions and or concerns but cannot absolutely utilize any powers during this conversation."
"Quite the set of rules you have."
Jack flipped through his papers. "I, the summoner do not wish to engage in any form of simple small talk or jokes."
She raised his eyes, simutaneosly crossing her hands under assets.
Jack once more flipped through his pages combing through them looking for something specifically. "I the summoner, require the summoned to perform one task and will provide accurate compensation for fulfilling said task. Do thoust, demon Lilith swear to fulfill this task to your absolute potential not avoiding or manipulating said task. As well if summoned speak any form of no, then the summoned shall immediately returned to his or her world."
She smiled looking at Jack. "I the summoned, Lilith va Rekthtern, Lady Red of the Iron Sands, hear and understand that the summoner, Kaj Brekker, of whose name may or may not signify anything of importance and may or may not be his true or given name, wishes for me to fulfill a certain task of which I, the summoned shall fulfill to my absolute abilities." She smiled wildly at Jack as she casually imitated his earlier speech.
Jack looked at her, taking a deep breath, placed his stack of papers behind him on his desk looked directly at Lilith. Who in turn flashed him a smile leaning forward slightly. "I the summoner, ask you the summoned to completely erase my existence from this universe."
Lilith opened her mouth for a second. Before closing it again.
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"Why am I just seeing us, right now?" I asked.
The demon's reflection stared back, the gruesome twin of the monster beside me. The mirror standing between us was faded and cracked with a dulled patina of millennia past.
"This is it. All of it." It said.
"My wife, job... my children?"
"I only show you the good you've done in the world. Congratulations. I suppose, in the end, you did the right thing."
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[WP] A demon offers a depressed person the opportunity to erase their existence from history, but not before taking them on a journey to bear witness to all of the good they've done.
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My eyes clamp shut after finally finishing my request to the small black demon standing before me. I asked him to erase me. There was no point in staying here any longer. I had nothing left.
"Are you quite sure?" the demon asked, curling a finger around his long beard. The demon gave a small smirk, flashing his mangled teeth, his eyes a burning orange. "Do you not understand what you've left in the world?". I shrug at his words. "Nothing meaningful I'm sure.." I grumble as I stare at the ground. The demon frowns and scratches the top of his bald head slowly with his free hand. "I don't think you understand what kind of imprint you've left on the world and its people.." Mutters the demon as he grasped my shoulder. "Allow me to show you before I finish the request..".
My head burned with a minor pain, my vision blocked by a bright white light. I winced in pain, trying to cover my eyes. "Do not shield your eyes.." grumbled the demon softly in my ear. I paused for a few seconds, fighting against the pain before lowering my arms. After a few seconds I saw a flash. This place was unfamiliar to me. "Where am I..?" I ask, my head still pounding. "This is the future.. Or rather.. What could have been.." the demon says sounding mostly sad. "...would have..?" I ask, confused and in pain. What does he mean? Could have been? What changed that? The demon snapped his fingers conjuring a newspaper from fire. "Read it.." he sighed as he turned away slowly.
CANCER TO BE ERADICATED. DOCTOR SHELLING IS TO THANK FOR THIS MIRACLE. Shelling.... That was my surname. I stare at the back of the demon and crumple the paper in frustrstion. "Will you please explain?" I asked, feeling my heart slam in my chest from nerves. He turned his head so that he stared back at me with his burning eyes. "That.. Would have been your daughter... You always told her she could do anything.. Even cure the ailment that haunted her mommy.." He said slowly, his voice a slight growl. He turned to me, his eyes burning a dark red now. "You told her she could cure it and with that kind of drive and encouragement..." He shook his head slowly. "Now, however, the human race must continue to suffer." he said, looking sad. My heart sank. What had I wished for? "Can.. Can I take it back..?" I ask, my eyes turning toward the ground slowly. The demon shook his head and also looked at the ground. "No. I'm sorry." and he truly did sound sorry. "Our deal is done.. She will have never been born from you.. Perhaps who does birth her will think twice about that mistake.."
"Will you grant me one last request then.. Please..?" I asked desperately. My mind flying this way and thought trying to make sense of the predicament. The demon gave me a small smile and nodded at me. "I'll make sure she is protected this time. She will be in good hands." He said patting my back softly before I was nothing but mere mist in the wind.
(My first ever post on WP! Give me all your feedback please!)
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“Why are you showing me this?” Ella blinked. She was beholding a scene in her kitchen, her two daughters eating some ghastly fast food dinner, while their father sat between them. The fourth chair at the cozy square table was empty.
“I thought you were supposed to show me the good that I’ve done,” she said, putting her spectral hand on her old home’s quartz counters.
“The best thing you did was to leave them,” the hooded figure spoke, his voice ephemeral like bells, but also clipped and mechanical at the same time.
“I thought... They’d be miserable without me. I wanted to show them what they were missing!” Ella choked, sinking to her former kitchen floor. It was a little grimy. She would’ve never let the tiles become so filthy. Why couldn’t her family understand that? Everything she did was for them! How could they not see!
“Your oldest still remembers the comment you made when she made top band as a sophomore in high school,” the voice spoke.
“Wh... what?” Ella stammered.
“You told her to stop. To stop acting the way she did,” the hooded figure calmly explained.
“Yes! She was acting unbecoming. She was out of control!”
“She was happy that she made top band as a sophomore. That was one of her first accomplishments in high school. She was a happy teenage girl, trying to celebrate,” the voice spoke, still maddeningly calm. Ella stared at him, her gaze sharper than a knife.
“Who are you to tell me I don’t know my own daughter?!” She shouted.
The figure shrugged.
“Your youngest got raped. And the best you did was telling her to stop talking about her experiences,”
Ella froze. No... what happened... That wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t her fault that her daughter was hurt like that! She had told her to be strong. Why couldn’t her daughter be strong enough to get over it? She just kept dredging it up to manipulate us into feeling sorry for her. Why would she do that to her own family? Ella’s thoughts echoed in her head like an explosion in a combustion engine.
“It wasn’t the fact that she wasn’t going to get over it. She was hurt. She was more than hurt. She was robbed, violated, and she needed support. And all you could do was to tell her to forget it and to be strong... when that was exactly what your own parents did,” the hooded figure kept explaining.
“And it made me strong! I was a strong woman!”
“You weren’t the mother that these girls needed. And your husband enabled you. And I am but death, and only an observer, and the best I can do is to tell you how things were,”
“Fuck you! I did my best!” Ella gathered her knees, sunk her head between them and started bawling. The hooded figure stood motionlessly, an ethereal monument looming over all her sins.
“That’s the sad part. You did. That’s the sad part about most of you,” he spoke, shifting his head to the happy family eating fried chicken for dinner.
“There’s something inside you that you can choose to believe. There’s a person underneath there that is worth everything, despite of what I’ve shown you. Despite of what you believe,”
“If me leaving was the best thing I’ve done for this family, then what does that say about me? What the fuck am I worth?” Ella gasped, still choking on her own tears.
“You’re worth the person you can be,” the figure spoke, and for the first time in this ghastly journey, he offered her his hand.
“People make a choice at this point. They can come with me, or they can continue to live their lives. For some, the shock is too much. Seeing themselves from other people’s eyes for the first time. It’s too much a burden to bear,” he paused before continuing. The broken woman still hugged her knees, and continued crying on the kitchen floor.
“Your family has always loved you. But they could not love the choices you made,” Death spoke, his tone somehow more sympathetic.
“Then I’ll make the choice that I never could, right now,” Ella whispered, looking up at him with mascara and eyeliner stained eyes. The black streaks ran down her cheeks and framed her determined face.
Death simply nodded.
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[WP] It’s a lighthearted adventure to save the world from the Dark Lord, but the main hero is WAY too serious and it’s really unnerving everyone else.
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“Now that I have you, there’s no escaping my clutches, Princess Sparkle.”
The Dark Lord Malforce laughed. Menacingly.
The Princess was helpless, chained at the top of the Dark Lord’s ingenious Death Mountain Murder Machine. The device rose thirty feet into the air, a whirling nightmare of blades, cogs, bladed cogs, and fire. And wolves.
The wolves howled in unison. Menacingly.
The Princess let out a gentle sigh. “Look, I don’t want to ruin this, but you should probably let me go and get out of here.”
“Begging for your life won’t save you now, Princess! If you wish to see your beloved Bubblepop Kingdom again, you must reveal to me the location of the Sunshine Crown!”
“Fine. Whatever.”
“Resistance is-wait…what do you mean, ‘fine?’” Moving swiftly, despite being clad in black armor, spiky black armor, the kind with horns, Malforce drew his dark sword, Joybane, and held the blade towards the bound princess. “If this is a ruse…”
Sparkle shook her head, noon-bright hair rippling. “Nope, no trick. We stashed the crown with the hermit in the clearing; told him to bury it in his backyard. Let me down, go get the thing, and then maybe leave the area for a while.”
Lightening crackled. Malforce sheathed his mighty sword in its equally mighty sheath. The sheath had a little skull on it which Malforce’s daughter crafted and, tastefully, bedazzled for him.
“I’ll send my minions to pay the hermit a little visit. If what you say is true, I’ll set you free. But if this is some pathetic ploy to buy time, I can assure you, the consequences will be dire.”
Sparkle jiggled the chains. “You should really go yourself. And, like, now. He’ll be here any minute.”
“Ah, now I see,” Malforce boomed, the shape of his wicked grin hidden by his be-horned helm. “You ARE trying to buy time. You expect a hero to come to your rescue?”
“Ha!” the Dark Lord laughed. “HA DA HA! There are no heroes left in this world.”
“Yeah,” said Sparkle, “which is why we had to lower our standards a bit.”
Just then, the giant window to the Dark Lord’s lair shattered in a blizzard of broken glass and coarse language.
“Fuck-a-doodle do, bitches!” screamed the mysterious figure that dove into the room through the remains of the window.
“Hero!” shouted Malforce, drawing his sword. “You’re too late! I know the location of the crown. Soon your world will be drenched in darkness.”
The Hero shrugged and began to advance.
“Stop right there!” said the Dark Lord. “One more step and I’ll begin the machine. The princess will be torn asunder.”
The hero halted, and eyed the machine thoughtfully.
“Before I destroy you, I have but one question,” Malforce said. “How did you get past my Treacle Troll? Did you answer his riddles three?”
“No.”
“Did you put sleep mushrooms into his ale and sneak past him?”
“Nope.”
Malforce smiled. “Ah, so you disguised yourself as a traveling bard and convinced him you were here to sing a ballad commemorating the glorious reign of the Dark Lord Malforce?”
“No. What I did was take this knife here,” said the Hero, displaying a knife large and sharp enough to imperil the definition, “and I cut the troll open, and I took his insides, out.”
Malforce lowered his sword. “Pardon?”
“He disemboweled the troll,” the Princess explained.
“Oh God…why?” asked the Dark Lord. “He was just an intern. Honestly, he slept under the drawbridge like, 70-percent of the day. And even if he was awake, he’s got glaucoma. You could have just, like, snuck past in his blind spot.”
“But my way was more delicious,” the Hero licked his blade.
“Jesus Christ.” said Malforce.
“I warned you,” muttered the Princess.
The Hero began to advance again.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Malforce dropped his sword. “Let’s all just, let’s all relax for a second.”
“Tell me,” said the Hero. “Which is your least favorite organ? And would you like to know what the back of your eyes look like? I’ll show them both to you.”
“That’s insane. How would I even see them if you took both-wait, okay, just wait.” Malforce backed up until he was against the cold, stonewall of his dark, dark lair. He reached to his left and pushed a giant red button. “Okay, there, I’ve started the Death Mountain thing.” The cogs began to whirl and the Princess slowly lowered. Very slowly. It was actually hard to notice the change at first. “You’d better rescue the Princess now. Otherwise she’s doomed. And I’ll just...I’ll just get out of your hair while you’re working on that.”
The Hero glanced at the machine. “I figure that thing will probably take, oh, a good six minutes to even reach the Princess. That means me and you got about five minutes. And brother, this is going to be the longest five minutes of your life.”
“Holy. Shit.” Malforce repeatedly pushed the button, but the machine continued to move at a glacial pace.
The Hero laughed. Menacingly.
|
Although he was the”chosen one”, Doug really started to hate the guy that now led the party across the mountain path. The “chosen one” real name was Mark and like all heroes, he thought he was chosen by the prophecy to save the world from darkness. That the prophecy was written on a wet napkin by the town drunkard did not seem to bother Mark. Neither that the “prophecy” was given instead of payment of the 4 pints of Dwarven lager made any alarm-bells ring. Neither that the drunkards old shopping list was written on the other side of the "prophecy"
Mark started to shout dark prophecies about how the evil of Darkness would kill all men, rape all girls and give all kids diabetes, it totally ruined the Wedding of the Nina and Peter and was the second most awkward wedding toast in the village history. First one is Old miss Geller telling conspiracy theories on how dwarves secretly ruled the world.
So they decided to follow Marks rant and follow him on “the quest” to stop the evil from taking over the world. Just for the sake of shutting him up and go back to his daily routines as a barman
“First we need to cross the mountain of Darkness Falls into the Pit of Certain death to reach the secret village of elves” Mark proclaimed to the small entourage as they started the ascent up the mountain.
“ Can’t we just take a carriage there? It’s like one bronze-coin each and there are like three daily departures?” Doug said silently.
Johava, the third person in entourage nodded with agreement. Although just passing by the village, she was drafted into the entourage to meet the gender-quota requirement set by the imperial court.
“ Silence!!” Mark shouted. “We need to face the evil before it consumes us all! When we come to the village of the elves, we need to drink from the lake of Lightness to purify us from the darkness.”
Johava and Doug looked at each other before Doug reached into his backpack. “You know they started to tap that lake and export the water from it into bottles right? We can find water from the Lake of Lightness in every tavern in the empire?”
Mark did not seem to react to Dough holding up a glass bottle of bright shining water with small faires flying inside. Neither the slogan “harness the power of the elf” on the bottle.
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[deleted]
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[WP] Aliens don't attack earth for one single reason: Humans just make extraordinary food. And nobody wants to see that gone.
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Lieutenant Zak was pacing behind his desk when the most enterprising scout in the Empire entered. “Sir!” The young Corporal squeaked as he came to attention a few steps in to the sprawling bright room “I have the report on planet DN000057543988, as requested.” He said, pale envelope in hand.
“At ease” replied Zak.
The Corporal’s shoulders sank but he remained at the ready. Zak came around his desk and faced the corporal, accepted the large envelope. He didn’t stand much larger than the Corporal, both around four feet tall but Zak was much better put together. His scales were more symmetrical and he was a much heathier color of green.
“I think you understand the magnitude of the recommendation in these reports” said Zak as he looked the Corporal up and down.
The unconvincing soldier shifted in his uniform that was to big for his thin and leathery body. He swallowed. “Yes, sir”.
Zak tried to catch his eyes but the Corporal would not submit.
“Has anyone else seen this report, Corporal?”
“No sir, as per your orders”.
Zak went back to his desk and set the envelope down, then he walked to a credenza on the wall of what seemed to the Corporal to be an eternity away. The Lieutenant walked to a box on the structure and pressed his middle of three fingers against it, the box opened and he took out a silver letter opener. Zak walked back to his desk and came to close to the Corporal as he did. He pulled out a heavy black box out of the envelope and placed it back on his desk. He inserted the letter opener in a key hole in the front and instantly the box opened and a digital hologram of delights instantly appeared in front of him, floating in suspension over his desk. He swept his scaly hand three times in the air to the left, then once back to the right, he saw Official Recommendation and stopped. He began reading and then realized his eyes were moving too fast for the company. He calmed and read on as a slight frown grew on his face and then a forced smile. He sat back in his chair, folded his hands and straightened his face.
“Corporal Zibon, it disappoints me you suggest such a cruel fate for Planet DN000057543988.”
The Corporal’s eyes finally met the Lieutenant.
“Sir, I’m not calling for the elimination of all species there, just the pests that refer to themselves as ‘Human Beings’. They’re on the verge of destroying an otherwise beautiful ecosystem. They’ve had millions of their years to simply get along and treat their planet with respect and they have failed miserably on all accounts. I can’t in good conscience suggest anything less than the complete elimination of their species.”
Zak said nothing. The Corporal straightened with confidence.
“Honestly, I think we’ve let them do too much damage already.” He said. “If it where up to me I would have them eliminated when they discovered their precious “atomic” energy. He air quoted the word atomic. His lip curled slightly when he was finished.
“It’s not your decision is it though, Corporal?” said Zak. He thought he heard the Corporal mutter no but wasn’t sure. “Besides, the human beings are no threat to us. Splitting the atom is baby steps” Said Zak with a dismissive flick of the wrist. “Your recommendation is cruel and unusual. Which is disappointing coming from a man with your expertise”.
“Sir, with all due respect, they are on the verge of colonizing other planets in their system, even if they don’t, they now have the capability to completely destroy their own. We’ve even got report of humans smuggled to our planet.” Zak made a concerted effort not to flinch. “The human disease will only spread” the Corporal continued. “It follows protocol that we eliminate evasive species before they become threats.”
“That may be so, Corporal, but I’m still not a fan of your barbaric recommendation. I don't take the elimination of any planet under our sphere lightly. However, I pride myself on being objective in my service of the Empire so I will take all opinions in to account, including yours. Thank you for your work, Corporal, you’re dismissed.” His eyes shifted to the door.
A look of concern came over the Corporal. “Sir, I don’t believe it’s your desic..” Zak cut him off “Like I said, I will take your recommendation in to account” but he wasn’t convincing. He smiled and led the Corporal to the door with a hand on his back. The Corporal thought of resisting and then thought better.
When the door was closed the Lieutenant walked to his phone and said. “Lieutenant Zena”. Within in seconds Zena was standing in front of him in holographic form.
“We have a problem” said Zak. He was already at the bar cart pouring himself a glass of inebriant.
Zena shrugged “It will be dealt with. The only problem I see here is an officer drinking in his office at 11AM. This isn’t like you”.
Zak’s brow was wet. “I have a family Zena, I can’t be so carefree, the stakes are higher for me. I can’t afford to get caught”
“Ah Zaky” she said in a patronizing tone she knew would annoy him. “We’re not getting caught. This is bigger than us. As long as Leg of Man is the highest selling item in the underground markets, we’ve got nothing to worry about. You know what? I’m getting hungry just talking about it” she was smiling coy.
“You don’t understand” said Zak as he marched back to the phone. “I can only hold off the do good Corporal for so long, eventually his report will get to the scrupulous Captain Zorbet, who has the authority to sign off on planetary cleansings and just like that there goes the best meal in the DN76 Universe and probably our heads.” Sweat was now dripping from his brow and oozing out the back of his scaly neck.
Zena laughed. “Do you need an H-Pen? You look like you’re going to have a panic attack or something. I never understood why such a paranoid guy got in to Human meat smuggling.”
“You know why.” He frowned and so did she.
“Ah, like I said, don’t sweat it, like literally” She said as she giggled. The look on Zak’s face hadn’t changed, he took a step back. “Zena” he said with a look of concern.
“Okay, okay” she replied. “I shouldn’t even be telling you this but the good Captain and her husband have a taste for human blood wine. Their source uses the same supplier as us. She needs Planet DN000057543988 as much as we do. I have a feeling that report will get lost some where in the filing process.” She winked.
“Why didn’t you tell me this months ago? I haven’t slept a night since the report was commissioned!”
“Calm down. I always told you I would deal with it. Besides, I only found out about the wine thing a few days ago anyway,”
Zak huffed. “And what if you didn’t find that out, then what?”
“Doesn’t matter. Honestly Zaky, You’re starting to bore me with this. If you want out, say so now, people will do a lot more for a lot less than 1000Z$ to deliver human meat to a few dozen customers, including yourself.
Zak wanted to push the issue but knew he couldn’t. “No, I still want in, you just have to be more open with me, we’re supposed to be partners.”
“We are partners.” She said but it was halfhearted and they both knew it. His weakness was off putting but she had has always liked him and she remembered a time when he was still strong. She brightened up. “I have an idea. Tell your wife your working late tonight. We can go get some human wings and watch some interplanetary league in the D Zone.”
He sighed. “Okay, just promise me you’ll be more honest”
She tried to pretend she didn’t hear him.
“Promise?”
She fought rolling her eyes. “I promise.”
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[WP] Write a story where the last line changes the hero into a villain.
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"Are you hurt madam?"
The woman was obviously in some kind of shock. So I tried to reassure her and make her feel safe, while at the same time checking for injuries. "It's alright, they are gone and can't hurt you anymore. I promise. You are safe with me.” I said in a calm voice “Do you know where you are? Do you remember your name?"
As far as I could see, she had only some minor bruises and scratches. She had probably lost her balance somewhere uphill and came sliding down the slope – until the blackberry bush had stopped her. I really hoped, she hadn't broken anything and could walk.
"We have to get away from here. Please!" She tried to stand up, but quickly dropped down again. Her face a grimace of pain. Probably busted her ankle- damn. Poor girl.
"Please! Please help me get up. We have to run. The wolves are right..."
I lifted my hand to stop her. "The wolves won't attack the two of us. Not during the day." I nodded over to my rifle lying on the ground "And if they still try…"
That seemed to finally calm her down. Still her eyes darted around, worried and nervous, expecting to be attacked at any moment. She was shaking from the adrenaline rush and her hands were much colder than they should have been.
“Alice. My name is Alice.”
“Hello Alice. My name is Tom and I will get you out of here. But for now, you need to calm down a bit. Just lean against that birch and take a few deep breaths. What happened to you?”
While she told me about how her trip through the state and how her bicycle broke down a few miles away, I dug out my battered thermos from the backpack. Her hands were trembling profusely, so it was all for the better the tea wasn’t really hot anymore.
“… and then I stopped to remove the back wheel to fix the puncture. That’s when I saw one of them. Still a fair distance away, but I could feel him looking straight at me. I couldn’t see the others then, but I just… knew? I jumped back on my bike and tried to get clear as fast as possible. I think I could have gotten away without the flat… Well as it stands I lost control and came flying through the bushes...”
Tears formed in her eyes and her voice was almost breaking apart.
“I was sure they would eat me alive.”
“Don’t worry Alice. As I already said, you are safe now. I need to check if anything is broken. Especially your ankle - If that’s alright with you.”
She agreed and I checked her injuries. Her ankle was busted, but probably not broken. But I’m no doctor, so I might be wrong there. The rest of her was mostly okay. Nothing severe, but the scratches would need cleaning and the bruises would take weeks to disappear again.
“My cabin is only half a mile from here, do you think you could manage that with my help?”
“I will try.”
I gathered the thermos and the rest of my gear and helped her to get up. She winced, but bit her teeth and continued.
“What about my bike? It must be somewhere up there”
“Don’t worry about it” I replied “There is no one around who could steal it. I’ll get it for you, once you are safe in the cabin.
She smiled gratefully “Thank you, that is very kind of you Tom.”
Later that evening I retrieved the bike and drove it all the way over to Sandy Mountain. Can’t have anybody find the bike this close to my cabin, can’t I?
|
I was blessed with intelligence and desire to save the world. My weapon was science. With it, I was able to save the lives of infants that would have otherwise died a decade earlier. I waged a war against virulent diseases that were once a death sentence. Through my skills in chemistry, biology and medicine, I was seen as a hero forging a newer better world.
It didn't take long for others to find different uses for my talents. I created toxic gases that were able to by the thousands and got medals for it by tyrants. I created new, horrific diseases that killed indiscriminately. I heard children screaming in pain as I conducted experiments to find better ways to torture people until they pleaded for death.
Through all this, I lost my humanity. I no longer saw an individual as a person, but merely as another rat to progress my passion to change the world. In the end, I was no longer a hero but became death and received thunderous applause for it.
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[WP] You’re an alien, disguised as a human, working at NASA and trying to destroy all evidence and data on aliens.
|
It was another long day at this office. Sitting around, entering information and going over basic details. It wasn’t a position one would think of as glamorous, in fact it was about the most routine data entry position possible. And it was entirely necessary at NASA to help ensure that the information they were routinely sent about space was inputted accurately.
Only that wasn’t what happened, Qtrdsnk thought to himself, afterall, they have to go through me. It was a dangerous job, situated on a planet that was widely regarded by The Community to be one of the most dangerous due to its evolutionary habits. Thinking back, Qtrdsnk thought of when the mission was first described to him, a race that somehow had reached space technology despite being driven by competitiveness and not co-operation.
It was the fear that The Community had. These species generally obliterated themselves long before anyone in The Community spotted them – their innate destructiveness outweighing everything else. In fact, his predecessor thought his posting here would be short as it seemed that these humans were likely to follow the same path with their ‘mutually assured destruction’ and ‘cold war’.
They still might, Qtrdsnk thought with mixed feelings. He had been here for twenty years... Earth years he corrected himself, and it was going to be tough to adjust when his posting came to an end in a few more cycles. If they didn’t blow themselves up, things were going to get harder here, something the report he had back at his home or Earth domicile emphasized... but one he hadn’t quite decided to send off yet.
‘They fear them so much, this report might lead to drastic action by The Community. What would they do? There are those never ending rumours of special teams being assigned,’ Qtrdsnk thought and made a mental note, to his very well hidden implanted processor, to make a paper going over all of those.
He did know that one of his predecessors, Nasstinti;bastik, thought that The Community would take lethal action. That was after all what prompted him to crash one of the stealth drones in an area called Roswell. And then the humans had really scared them by making removal efforts essentially impossible. It was over twenty of those Earth Years before they replaced him, after observation being done, but the interest and growing space programs made it a necessity.
His head tilted as his mind began to race, thinking about the The Community’s reaction to that event. There had been panic in sections, and some who thought The Community’s approach was wrong got louder with it. It took a long time for harmony in even the upper recesses of The Community to be restored – even at a distance Earth was dangerous.
‘Of course, that’s why I had to come here’ Qtrdsnk thought. ‘I wanted to see the big dangerous Earth.’ He snorted, an action he had been forced to learn in this human disguise.
Another report came in, with trace signs of minerals that would lead them towards some of the Communities planets, so Qtrdsnk, more commonly known on Earth as James Solo, began quickly altering the results to input into the system.
Another day. Another long day. Another attempt to stay under the radar. And to figure out what exactly he would do.
|
"Hey Robert!"
I jerk around so quickly that the masks tears a little just below the left ear. Will stands in the door. He carries a pile of books in his arms.
"What are you doing here?" he asks suspiciously.
"Nothing" I reply quickly and step away from the computer "Wheeler wanted me to go over the latest data that Hubble sent. He wants to have a report on his desk by Monday because he has to show it to the committee to receive extra funding."
The look of suspicion on Will's face ceases. "Oh" he says and nods "So you won't be done any time soon, will you? Me and the boys wanted to grab a drink. Wanna come?"
"Ah..." I am hesitating while running through my head all my options. "You know what, go ahead and just text me the place you end up at, alright? I don't think that it'll take me much longer. I'll be joining you in an hour or so."
"Sound good!" Will nods and goes away.
I turn around to the computer again. Fortunately, the human capability to focus on multiple things at once is limited. The artificial pores in my mask start emitting fluid. The doctor insisted on connecting them wirelessly to my brain so that the artificial skin would be triggered whenever I feel emotions, but I personally find it very annoying. Who wants to emit half a gallon of water every time they are stressed?
I take off the hands and operate the computer with my own fingers. I become wistful every time I think about the bio computers back on the Arenada. If I could work on one of those, I would probably be done with all my work in just a fraction of the time it takes me now. However, I can't get too mad, since erasing any sings of our fleet that their stupid telescopes picked up would be much harder if their tech were more advanced. I shake my head as I erase the last file from the computer. We have ships that can travel intergalacticly and yet we got fooled by a bunch of monkeys with toys. No one at the planning committee had actually thought of the fact that the humans could be listening to space when they had launched their plans for an interplanetary safari. And who do you call when you fuck up and accidentally make contact with an undeveloped species? You call Gurp. And Gurp takes good money to run around in a meat suit, pretending to be friends with the morons the monkeys call scientists to erase all the signals they are to dumb to interpret anyways.
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[WP] You are a time traveler in 1928. You unintentionally make a friend, and when they mention the Great Depression, you realize that they too are a time traveler.
|
"Well hello, traveler!" called out Carl, sitting in his usual spot, "Got a light?"
Carl was under the impression I was from out of town- which wasn't untrue. It was just a different kind of true.
Sitting down and pulling out my matches I struck one, holding it out for Carl. Pinching his cigarette between his thumb and index fingers Carl hunched over the match much like a watch maker would working at his bench. He took a couple of sharp puffs, "Much obliged, my friend. So where to today?"
This had become something of a daily routine for Carl and I.
"I was thinking of walking along Wall Street today, see what the fuss is about," I said, shaking out the match's flame and tossing it into the street.
"Ah, the lifeblood of this great nation runs thick there," Carl winked.
In the last four weeks that I'd been visiting New York I had seen Carl in this spot almost every day. Carl had an odd sense of humor and a wry smirk that permeated everything that he said. I liked Carl. Enough so that I began carrying matches with me daily.
"I've heard quite the stories," I said, offering a wry smirk of my own.
"All exagerations and understatements, I assure you! Nothing compares to being there! To being here!" Carl said emphatically, gesturing around us.
"You won't hear any arguments from me there," I said, placing my hands into my coat's pockets, "Hm, chilly today, isn't it?"
"Winter is on it's way," puffed Carl, "Terrible for smoking."
"Could you not just smoke inside?"
"Terribly boring, that would be. I might get something done if I did that. And I like to take my time. Besides, when would I see my traveller friend!" Carl smiled broadly, "Ah, that reminds me- just how long will your studies keep you here?"
"Four years, then promptly back home," I said, not quite lying.
"Plenty of time, then."
"Not quite enough. But there never is."
"Oh, and just what do you think you'll miss?" Carl asked skeptically. Holding out his pinched cigarette, he flicked it with his other hand a few times to shake off the ash. For the amount of smoking that Carl did it often looked like he hadn't the faintest clue how.
"Most of my focus in academia, sadly," I sighed.
"Oh? I never asked, what is your focus?"
"The Great D-" I quickly stopped myself, sharply turning my head to face the street and hide my wide eyed shock at what I'd quite nearly prophesied.
"- Depression, yes, yes," finished Carl, not missing a beat.
My wide-eyed shock would remain, but my head turned back to Carl.
"Being there for the start of something and not the finale doesn't mean you miss the end of it. Most times the end is part of the beginning just the same," he said, overhand lobbing his cigarette onto the road.
"C-Carl, I-"
"Let me show you something funny," Carl said, plunging his index and middle fingers into his breast pocket, fishing about for something, "You'll like this," he said with a grin.
Out of his pocket Carl produced a ratty old piece of paper, folded twice. Hunching over as he did he pinched it open. It was a photograph. Or rather, it will be.
I took the photograph in my hands. In it, high above New York sat eleven men on a steel girder.
"We're the two on the left," Carl smirked.
The man to the very left was hunched much like a watch maker would working at his bench, pinching a cigarette between his thumb and index fingers.
To his right, a man with both arms and legs crossed- nervously- [held out a match](https://imgur.com/a/lODuG).
|
I used a fake name while talking to hin to go hide my identity. As soon as he mentions the great depression.. I freeze. Completely in fear. Thinking that he came to my time to stop me. Maybe he was me from the future future. However he knew exactly what was going through my head the moment he said that. From the look on my face he was also in completely disbelief. I soon asked him what year he was from. He said 2047. The year i was in. I asked him if he had a best friend named James. His mind was blown. Me and my friend time traveled.
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[WP] You are a time traveler in 1928. You unintentionally make a friend, and when they mention the Great Depression, you realize that they too are a time traveler.
|
“Awww! You shouldn’t have! It’s too nice!”
It had taken Charlie a long time to decide whether this hat was something Jane would like. After all, what did a nerdy guy like Charlie know about fashion, given how much time he spent in the labs in the year 2050? He was constantly frittering away, by himself, trying to put together what all his peers declared was impossible: a space-time continuum reverse disruption vehicle. Those who were “crazy” enough to think it possible strongly urged him to avoid creating it, since the time paradoxes, disruptions, and everything else that comes with time manipulation would destroy reality as we know it.
She opened the small box in front of her as they sat in the shade next to Johnny’s Famous Diner, and her reaction immediately revealed to Charlie that his mission was successful.
He knew all those time travel stories from the movies he watched growing up, and he didn’t want to make a time travelling machine to go back in time to kill Hitler, stop the Great Depression, blah blah blah. He knew about those time travel paradoxes and whatnot. He just beamed with curiosity to learn more about the world in the history books; to escape the confines of his mundane, formulaic life, and find a time in history that would give him a new chance at feeling alive again. He had first arrived in May 27th, 1927. He knew the nostalgia from this time period, and longed to see the sights, smells, and wonders of a world prior to its inevitable economic demise in just a couple short years, immediately followed by a host of wars that would define humanity’s struggles for generations. Plus, that was his birth date, and he figured he’d celebrate his birthday by going back in time 123 years, exactly 90 years before he was born. In fact, he had only planned on staying for about 2 days; he figured that this was just about how long all the 1928 money he had managed to find in 2050 would last. After all, you couldn’t just bring a dime back to the Great Depression era when FDR didn’t even exist yet! But thankfully, economic inflation was pretty bad in Charlie’s day, so even the little he managed to put together was quite a fortune here.
Charlie’s attention snapped back to the “present.” Jane had accidentally dropped her bag onto the ground while admiring her new gift. It fell next to the short, wooden table at which they sat. The roof on the outside barely provided much shade, and Charlie squinted as he stooped down to pick up both her bag, and a small coin that had fallen out. His years of attention to detail kicked in without a second thought, and he briefly noticed the year on the coin: 1956. He was taken aback at this, but before he could take a second look to confirm this suspicion, Jane had already taken back the coin and put it away. His mind quickly dismissed this small detail, and he decided to himself that he had simply misread it.
In all his years of planning, testing, and fine-tuning the reverse disruptor, he had never imagined he would fall in love again. I mean, he did once: nobody at the New Cambridge University of Tech thought he was a particularly charming guy, except one girl named Rose. They seemed like the perfect fit, and after they both graduated, their relationship seemed unstoppable. But when she finally saw how devoted he was towards finally creating that time travel device, she divorced him in frustration, believing that neither she or their daughter Janet should have any part in his self-centered fantasy project. He didn’t view it that way; he wanted everything in the world for them, and thought this would be the key towards being the best father he could. Maybe they just didn’t see it the way he did; maybe he truly was the “mad scientist” they thought he was. Either way, he wouldn’t be seeing Rose or their daughter anytime soon.
He had learned a lot since then, in between paying for child support, and living paycheck to paycheck, to working years trying to bring his time travel ideas to life. No one really wanted to hire someone whose life goal was to build a time machine. He never thought he would be able to live a normal life ever again. But now, it had seemed like he had been given a second chance. Charlie and Jane seemed just right for each other, as if something had inexplicably put them together for a reason. His 2 days quickly turned into 2 months, and after that, he didn’t have the heart, or motivation, to go back.
“Oh, Gerald, you’ve been so kind to me over the last nine months. I can’t imagine where I would be without you.”
Gerald? Oh, yeah; it wouldn’t have been wise to give her his true name right from the start, since any reference to his actual identity might cause the time paradoxes he had originally been warned about. “Charlie Auburn” was replaced with “Gerald Marley” from the moment he set foot in 1927. Was it really worth the price of lying to the most wonderful woman he had ever proposed to, which happened not even a week ago? Well, he’d say so.
“Jane, I can’t explain it, but since the moment we met, I knew there was something special between us, and I don’t want anything to take that away. You’ve reminded me so much of someone in my family who I haven’t been able to see in a very long time. It’s like I’ve finally gotten a piece of my life back, and I’m looking forward to spending an amazing life with you. I want you to have only the best.”
She beamed with the most beautiful smile Charlie had ever seen, and sighed as she looked off into the distance. “Won’t our wedding be great? We make such a dream team! Why, I don’t even think the Great Depression can stop us!”
The hair on the back of his neck stood up immediately, and the atmosphere of their small space changed instantly. He wasn’t a history buff, for sure, but he paid enough attention in History 105A back at New Cambridge to know that this was 1928, not 1929. The reality of what just came out of her mouth slowly started to sink in. “Wait,” he responded with quite a shock, “The Great Depression? How do you know about that?”
She quickly realized her mistake, but her attempt to downplay it was far from convincing. “Oh, uh, er I just meant that if there were…”
But then, her expression turned from surprise to total horror faster than the blink of an eye, as if she had remembered something she had forgotten. “No, nonono I made the mistake. Now they’ll… Oh no…” Her voice trailed off as she stared off into the distance. Charlie sat back in shock, unable to take in the gravity of the situation, or her cryptic response.
“What do you mean, they? What on earth is going on?!?”
Before Charlie could even think, four police cars seemed to just appear out of nowhere, storming up the side of the street and screeching to a halt not ten feet away from them. Pistols were drawn, by no less than 7 officers, who barked instructions towards their direction.
“GET ON THE GROUND, RIGHT NOW!”
“ON YOUR KNEES, CRIMINAL!”
“Dad!” Jane’s words grabbed his attention once more, although this one word stopped any word from leaving his mouth. “They know you’re here.” Jane grabbed his hand and pulled him out of his chair, his wobbling legs obeying almost subconsciously. Her hurried voice started to break up as tears streamed down her face. “They told you not to create it, but they really wanted you to perfect it so they can use it to win the war. Heck, they want to win all wars! They thought I could get you to do it willingly, since I’m your daughter, but I...”
Then it all happened in a blur. Before I knew it, my knees were firmly planted in the asphalt as the officers swarmed around me. Jane screamed as another officer escorted her behind the diner. My mind was swimming with confusion as I called out to her in desperation, before I felt the firm clamp of handcuffs on my hands, and the rough texture of a gag tied painfully over my mouth.
It was bad enough I had failed Janet once; I couldn’t allow this to happen again. I fought with all my might to break free of my bonds, but after a sharp, sudden pain on the back of my head, everything slowly faded from view.
_________________________
Hey everyone! This is my first time writing something here on this subreddit, so any feedback would be appreciated!
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I used a fake name while talking to hin to go hide my identity. As soon as he mentions the great depression.. I freeze. Completely in fear. Thinking that he came to my time to stop me. Maybe he was me from the future future. However he knew exactly what was going through my head the moment he said that. From the look on my face he was also in completely disbelief. I soon asked him what year he was from. He said 2047. The year i was in. I asked him if he had a best friend named James. His mind was blown. Me and my friend time traveled.
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[WP] "Any last words?" the killer asked. "Yes," the victim said. "Alexa, call the police."
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“Alexa, call the police” I said with a brave confidence that couldn’t be shook. This asshole didn’t know about the Alexa plugged into the wall in the adjacent room. The killer looked a bit puzzled at first, but then grinned.
“Okay. I will call the police” Alexa chimes out from the other room.
“Alexa. Cancel.” The killer stated loud enough for her to hear.
“Okay” she replied.
And then I died.
|
A man dressed in a black stood before Addie. He thrust her against the wall, holding his gun to her head. The man smiled, revealing his chipped yellow teeth.
“Any last words, honey?”
“Alexa, call the police!”
“Okay.” chimed a voice from the speaker. The man laughed.
“Was that supposed to be a joke?” A hatch in the ceiling opened up. A beefy looking robot swung down, tackling the man to the ground. Addie brushed herself off.
“Thanks Alexa.” A Droid unfolded from the speaker.
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[WP] It turns out all religions were once true, just not at the same time. God went through enough phases while growing up to put any angsty teenager to shame.
|
"It'll be different, this time, I promise."
I sighed, and looked at the Holiest with what had to be a grimace on my face. Already bored, and on to another religion. Each time there'd been the promise that things would be different, and each time things *had* been different, but the results had always been the same. Horror, war, destruction. Several of the ones we'd worked with the longest were still going around, and I had a lot of doubt that anything short of an Act of the Holiest would do anything about the humans' opinion. Still, the way this one would work might actually have some impact.
"What's it called, again?" I asked.
"Uh, it doesn't really have a proper name," said the Holiest. "I started explaining it on Reddit, and the kids there have kinda gone wild with it. They're suggesting all kinds of things. I think this one is my favorite."
I leaned in closer to the screen and peered at the thread.
"Pastafarianism?" I asked. The Holiest nodded, beaming with a big smile.
"Yeah, Pastafarianism. I was worried it might be a little hard to pronounce, but it just kinda... *rolls* off the tongue, huh?" The Holiest drifted into the kitchen and opened the fridge.
"Where did you get the idea for this one?" I called into the other room. The Holiest returned, carrying a plate of spaghetti and a beer.
"Not really sure," said the Holiest, sitting down on the couch. "I guess I was just inspired."
~~----------~~
*:D*
|
Inner-monologue:
I love this. It’s a little glitchy and the UI can get a little repetitive, but what can you do when there are billions of individuals that perceive they are so different. Developers can only do so much...
I mean, look at all the possibilities for NPC and environmental creation!!! It inspires so many ideas! Maybe when I get more secure I can develop one. And it will load faster than 7 processes. Oh, that’ll be good.
Mercy, this grind is killer though... and so many hours (sigh) will these optional quests ever end?
Ooh! A war will levitate this grind...
...
...
Shit! I forgot to quicksave again :’(
|
|
[WP] It turns out all religions were once true, just not at the same time. God went through enough phases while growing up to put any angsty teenager to shame.
|
It’s not true what they say.
Your life does not flash before your eyes seconds before your death.
Instead, an intense ball of light began to form in front of me. I should have panicked, but, for some reason, I knew not to. As it grew before me, I closed me eyes and drew my last breath.
“Hello, there.”
I noted that the voice was unimpressed. I also noted that my right cheek was against a cold white marble floor. I feebly tried to push myself up, but my limbs were weak as if I’ve fallen.
I heard a very audible sigh of irritation. The person mumbled under his breath— something about how “they never land right.”
“I don’t have all day, Mister. You’re gonna have to tell me who you’re expecting to see here.”
I managed to get on my knees.
“Here?” I asked while rubbing my sore limbs.
“Yes, here. Heaven, Jannah, or... i dunno, some other paradise you believe in?”
I looked up at him quizzically just now starting to comprehend what was going on. The male voice was coming from a creature I wouldn’t quite call male. Or even human, if I’m being honest. Its skin was a translucent brown with gold flowing beneath like a raging river. It was wearing fine robes— the kind I would imagine medieval royalty would pride themselves in wearing. Except I was sure it wasn’t made of any material known to man. It seemed almost.... fluid. Its hair was long and blonde as if it showed his hair stylist a picture of Legolas to imitate. The only thing familiar about it were its wings— they were unmistakably the wings of an angel. Any human with the slightest knowledge of art or religion would know.
“Or are you looking for reincarnation?” The angel rolled its golden eyes and slammed the book shut causing dust to fly around and taint the immaculately white room we were in. He held the book up. It read ‘Guide for Afterlifers by God’. “I swear you looked like a heaven type of guy. I guess my streak of correct guesses has ended. Still not able to beat my high score of 4, 600, 581.”
The book changed right before my very eyes. It was now a guide for reincarnators. Still by God. My head began to hurt.
It began to flip through the pages. “You’re still gonna have to tell me what kind of reincarnation, Mister. Are we talking Hinduism? Buddhi—“
“WAIT.” I couldn’t help my outburst.
He looked me straight in the eye. His left eye twitched before he closed both and took a deep breath. “Please DO NOT tell me that you’re looking for the Fields of Asphodel, Valhalla, or anything ancient like that.” He opened his eyes again, and with a threatening tone, he said, “You will not appreciate it when I turn into Anubis. I will hate you for the weeks of dog breath I’ll have to endure after.”
I was a very articulate man back on earth, but this was way too much for my brain to handle. I was experiencing fear, awe, and confusion in big doses at the same time.
“Well?!” The angel demanded.
I still didn’t know how to respond “Uhh... I... I— Sir, I... Mister—“
“PETER.” He screamed. “My records say that you were baptized into Catholicism! You should know who the hell I am!!!”
He dragged his hand down his face and spoke through his hand, “Look, buddy. Let’s just get you to whatever afterlife you believe in, okay?”
“I’m an atheist.”
He chuckled frustratedly under his breath. “Right. Of course. Because even after God decided to put us through a bunch of confusing ass changes, gave us instructions to entertain ALL religions that came from the phases of ‘finding Himself’ during the never ceasing crises of His ETERNAL life, you humans still choose to not believe in this mess, which I really don’t blame you for BUT—“ he raised a finger “— because of that, we had to build a whole other afterlife for you guys.” He smiled sarcastically.
With a snap of his fingers, I was back on earth. A piece of paper was shoved under my nose.
“Please sign here, here, and here.” Peter pointed at all the spaces and a quill appeared in my hand. “This is just to verify that I brought you to the correct... thing... your religion or lack of expects after death. No returns, no exchanges. Yada, yada, yada. If you have any questions, I’d usually suggest you take it up with God, Himself, but He’s frolicking the earth as Zeus at the moment reliving what He calls the good old days.”
I signed the contract, and he began to roll it up.
“I swear if I have to deal with another demi-god in the next hundred years...” Peter muttered right before he disappeared.
I sat down on my couch as everything began to sink in. Did I make the right decision? Should I not have said that I was atheist? Should I have said something else? But I don’t know much about other religions... how could I know which afterlife would be the best?
I put my hands on my face and let my eyes peer between my fingers. Everything is the way it is. My couch even has that familiar crease from all the times I’ve spent sitting on it.
This couldn’t be bad, right?
A thought suddenly hit me. If I’m atheist, and I’ve rejected the assertion of belief in God most of my life... doesn’t that mean I technically don’t believe in an afterlife? I stood up shaken by this realization.
I shouldn’t be here. I should cease to exist. My soul should have crumbled.
Did I actually want that? Should I have claimed I was part of another religion? Will I ever see Peter again? Poor guy has it tough.
I paced down my room until I heard a knock on my door. I opened it to find a teenaged girl holding a basket of apples.
“Hey.” Her nose piercing caught light as she smiled with her mouth closed.
“Hello.” I hesitantly smiled back unsure of how yo approach anything in this world.
“I saw your house appear next to my apartment, neighbor. First of all, I’d like to apologize in behalf of Peter. Poor guy’s had it even worse since, well, Flat Earthers.”
“Flat earthers have a religion now?” It sounded ridiculous to me.
“Hey, I don’t make the rules.” She gestured behind her to the world we’re in. “We’re in an afterlife for atheists where God has taken the form of non-existence. Tell me which sounds crazier.”
“Flat earthers.”
She laughed and offered the basket of apples.
“It’s nice to know we can still grow apple trees here in... wherever we are.”
“We caaan...” She stretched out the word as if deciding if she should disclose something to me.
“But?”
“But I made those apples myself.”
“Made?!” I didn’t think any of this could get even more unbelievable.
“Made.” She nodded.
I looked at the apples then past her shoulder where a daunting new life awaited me.
“Hey, welcome, alright?” She said as she pat my shoulder. “You have many questions. There are many answers. If there’s one thing I can make clear about this place, it’s that you are as in control of your life and of your destiny as you were during life.” She smiled. “Maybe even more.”
|
Inner-monologue:
I love this. It’s a little glitchy and the UI can get a little repetitive, but what can you do when there are billions of individuals that perceive they are so different. Developers can only do so much...
I mean, look at all the possibilities for NPC and environmental creation!!! It inspires so many ideas! Maybe when I get more secure I can develop one. And it will load faster than 7 processes. Oh, that’ll be good.
Mercy, this grind is killer though... and so many hours (sigh) will these optional quests ever end?
Ooh! A war will levitate this grind...
...
...
Shit! I forgot to quicksave again :’(
|
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[WP] Your friends constantly talk about how soon Mars will become the new home for humanity. You are the only one who knows that Earth is our third attempt at relocating.
|
They don't know. They think they do but no one really does. I suppose I don't actually really know. I was sure I was going crazy these past few years but it all made sense in the end. I suppose you think I am crazy. I wouldn't blame you really. In fact if you just took my word for it I would think you are the crazy one.
I was born circa 2 million years ago. Well I guess I wasn't but he was. He died when he was 130, pretty good even for them. They of course emptied his mind, stored his DNA and when a new one was to be born they would download it all into the new child. It was standard procedure. Apparently they started doing that to retain as much information about their race as possible. They were humans, not like us though. No they were a different version. But they had the same programming in the end.
He was one of the few that knew that what their existence was for. Their world was filled with destruction and natural calamities. Poverty, large disparity in wealth distribution, civil wars, plagues. Everything on their planet, including themselves, was wiping out the humans version 2.0. Of course not all of them knew they were version 2.0, only he and a handful of others did. Just like not all of us know we are version 3.0.
They got as much of themselves as they could onto another planet, a hospitable planet. Earth already had life on it when our ancestors arrived. They were stuck in a space ship for a long time until they got to earth. Not a lot survived from their knowledge and development but some did. Some stayed hidden until someone similar enough was born for the right information to seep through. Sometimes I wish I never knew, but its somewhat comforting knowing your destiny.
They started anew. This time on Earth. And following their programming they... we will destroy Earth move again and find another planet to wipe out. Now you see, or you think you do at least.
He never found out why someone wanted to destroy the universe, he just knew that they had succeeded.
|
I cough a bit, feeling something caught back in my throat. My friends look over, wondering if I was alright.
"Just a little bug I've had for the past few weeks, go on." I reply to their curious gazes.
"Well, I was just saying that how AWESOME it'll be to finally colonize the moon! My dad says that I even have potential to be one of the astronauts," Kyle said. Kyle was a good friend, but always a bit over-ambitious and blindly faithful.
"Yeah, sure. But how many others will want to get that same position?" Maria, my other friend who was there, retorted.
"But I'll have the experience! It times just perfectly, and I'll be able to get all the classes in at college."
"Kyle, do you ever think of anything? It'll cost trillions, and they'll send some kid just out of college?"
I sighed internally. They would send someone just out of college. It's happened before, at least that's what the government says. The first relocation was between solar systems, two planets named EP-132 and QN-942. After both of those attempts failed, humans moved to the lush planet Venus, while seeding Earth with plants just in case.
That just in case turned out to be right. At first QN-942 and Venus were similar to the relationship between Taiwan and China. Part of the population fled during war, but things turned out wrong. Both times the home planets were destroyed.
When the habitats on Venus went wrong, it's obvious what happened. The atmosphere and composition went wrong, and it was inhabitable. The government decided what was best: to stop telling everyone what happened. It solved a lot of problems, but it's repeating now. Earth is getting ready for war, and we are packing out bags already.
"So what's your opinion?"
|
|
[WP] Your friends constantly talk about how soon Mars will become the new home for humanity. You are the only one who knows that Earth is our third attempt at relocating.
|
Jared likes to think of himself as a glorified babysitter listening to them talk about how amazing it would be to colonize Mars. How could modern humans be so foolish? They retained no collective memory of their time on the other three planets.
This colony, the Earth colony, collectively decided thousands and thousands of years ago not to use their advanced medicine to give themselves near-endless lifespans. It was celebrated then as one of the most selfless acts of humanity. To voluntarily die at a normal age for their first people in order to reduce their burden on this planet was deemed a wise decision after they destroyed the other planets with overpopulation-related stress. The unanticipated consequence of their drastically reduced lifespans was the massive loss of knowledge concerning their history in the general public. The first people, having lived already such long lives, felt no need or forgot to tell their successors much of what they already knew. In the past, they had so much time that the process of learning went at a snail's pace. This trend continued for several generations until all the details of their extraterrestrial knowledge and history was lost to almost all the people.
It didn't help, too, that the humans at the time felt compelled to travel across the continents to explore the rest of the world they had arrived on. They were so eager to see what this new planet had to offer. They scattered and fragmented themselves so quickly that each group retained mere pieces of the real story. Their fragmented stories eventually turned into legends, mythology and religious doctrine. There is, after all, a reason why there is so much continuity across religious and cultural beliefs and traditions.
The first arrivals anticipated this issue and selected a core group of 20 or so people to retain this knowledge and live among the rest.
Back to the story. Jared couldn't help but laugh as they talked about Mars in particular. *Oh Mars,* he thought to himself. *How could they not know that we have already colonized Mars once before?* Mars was the second attempt at relocating. For thousands of years people wondered why the planet Mars was so red. For hundreds of years scientists have wondered why there is so much iron oxide - rust - on the surface of Mars. For Jared the answer was obvious. The iron oxide came from the rusting of all the iron buildings, structures and materials left behind on the planet when they 'jumped ship,' so to speak. So much of the water on Mars is stored in the iron oxide on its surface. The massive loss of water stripped the planet of its insulating clouds and the planet quickly grew frigid. All of this happened before the humans left, of course, but here they were, talking about inhabiting the planet as if it were their first time doing so.
Jared wished to return to the first planet, which orbited Alpha Centauri... to be continued, if so desired.
**I'm making it more than one person because it just fits better with my story. Not that I need any justification to do this. I didn't feel like it was right to write this into the story now, but keep in mind that this means that they have watch all their loved ones die. Another thing I want to add here that I didn't think could be included well in the narrative itself is that the process of shortening their lifespans took a several generations to take effect, which is why things like The Bible have stories of people living for hundreds of years (think Methuselah). Another thing I want is for Jared to have a biological sister that exists somewhere else on Earth that is surviving alongside him. Perhaps a partner as well?**
Any input would be greatly appreciated!! <3
|
I cough a bit, feeling something caught back in my throat. My friends look over, wondering if I was alright.
"Just a little bug I've had for the past few weeks, go on." I reply to their curious gazes.
"Well, I was just saying that how AWESOME it'll be to finally colonize the moon! My dad says that I even have potential to be one of the astronauts," Kyle said. Kyle was a good friend, but always a bit over-ambitious and blindly faithful.
"Yeah, sure. But how many others will want to get that same position?" Maria, my other friend who was there, retorted.
"But I'll have the experience! It times just perfectly, and I'll be able to get all the classes in at college."
"Kyle, do you ever think of anything? It'll cost trillions, and they'll send some kid just out of college?"
I sighed internally. They would send someone just out of college. It's happened before, at least that's what the government says. The first relocation was between solar systems, two planets named EP-132 and QN-942. After both of those attempts failed, humans moved to the lush planet Venus, while seeding Earth with plants just in case.
That just in case turned out to be right. At first QN-942 and Venus were similar to the relationship between Taiwan and China. Part of the population fled during war, but things turned out wrong. Both times the home planets were destroyed.
When the habitats on Venus went wrong, it's obvious what happened. The atmosphere and composition went wrong, and it was inhabitable. The government decided what was best: to stop telling everyone what happened. It solved a lot of problems, but it's repeating now. Earth is getting ready for war, and we are packing out bags already.
"So what's your opinion?"
|
|
[WP] Your friends constantly talk about how soon Mars will become the new home for humanity. You are the only one who knows that Earth is our third attempt at relocating.
|
Jared likes to think of himself as a glorified babysitter listening to them talk about how amazing it would be to colonize Mars. How could modern humans be so foolish? They retained no collective memory of their time on the other three planets.
This colony, the Earth colony, collectively decided thousands and thousands of years ago not to use their advanced medicine to give themselves near-endless lifespans. It was celebrated then as one of the most selfless acts of humanity. To voluntarily die at a normal age for their first people in order to reduce their burden on this planet was deemed a wise decision after they destroyed the other planets with overpopulation-related stress. The unanticipated consequence of their drastically reduced lifespans was the massive loss of knowledge concerning their history in the general public. The first people, having lived already such long lives, felt no need or forgot to tell their successors much of what they already knew. In the past, they had so much time that the process of learning went at a snail's pace. This trend continued for several generations until all the details of their extraterrestrial knowledge and history was lost to almost all the people.
It didn't help, too, that the humans at the time felt compelled to travel across the continents to explore the rest of the world they had arrived on. They were so eager to see what this new planet had to offer. They scattered and fragmented themselves so quickly that each group retained mere pieces of the real story. Their fragmented stories eventually turned into legends, mythology and religious doctrine. There is, after all, a reason why there is so much continuity across religious and cultural beliefs and traditions.
The first arrivals anticipated this issue and selected a core group of 20 or so people to retain this knowledge and live among the rest.
Back to the story. Jared couldn't help but laugh as they talked about Mars in particular. *Oh Mars,* he thought to himself. *How could they not know that we have already colonized Mars once before?* Mars was the second attempt at relocating. For thousands of years people wondered why the planet Mars was so red. For hundreds of years scientists have wondered why there is so much iron oxide - rust - on the surface of Mars. For Jared the answer was obvious. The iron oxide came from the rusting of all the iron buildings, structures and materials left behind on the planet when they 'jumped ship,' so to speak. So much of the water on Mars is stored in the iron oxide on its surface. The massive loss of water stripped the planet of its insulating clouds and the planet quickly grew frigid. All of this happened before the humans left, of course, but here they were, talking about inhabiting the planet as if it were their first time doing so.
Jared wished to return to the first planet, which orbited Alpha Centauri... to be continued, if so desired.
**I'm making it more than one person because it just fits better with my story. Not that I need any justification to do this. I didn't feel like it was right to write this into the story now, but keep in mind that this means that they have watch all their loved ones die. Another thing I want to add here that I didn't think could be included well in the narrative itself is that the process of shortening their lifespans took a several generations to take effect, which is why things like The Bible have stories of people living for hundreds of years (think Methuselah). Another thing I want is for Jared to have a biological sister that exists somewhere else on Earth that is surviving alongside him. Perhaps a partner as well?**
Any input would be greatly appreciated!! <3
|
“It’s going to be tough but we can’t just be stuck here!” Theo exclaimed for at least the third time that week.
“Sure, T, and you’re gonna be on the first ship?”
Sam and Theo have been having this same argument for weeks. Not consistently, mind you. Just every few days the topic of humans finally terraforming Mars comes up.
Theo smirked, “Why not? At least I would be safe while you’re still here clinging to the last piece of land that’s above water.” Theo was right. The storms have been getting worse since the project. The weather machine was initially to reverse the effects of global warming. After the first tests were successful in a lab environment they were finally going to try and fix what was thought to be irrevocable.
“We can still probably still save earth!” Sam said “We have the weather machine. We just have to put the right spin on this whole thing and everything will be the way it was.”
The way it was… Even the way it was is better than what we see when we look out of our windows. When the project was started, it seemed like we just poked at a spinning top. When the smallest alteration was made to the climate the first thing the world noticed was hurricanes hitting the Caribbean like a barrage. Then it was the monsoons in the Philippines, the floods in Europe, the tornados in the midwest USA. Most of the human race didn’t stand a chance.
“Oh yeah, the thing that doomed us all is going to be the one to save us? They have been messing with that thing since it happened.” Theo took a deep breath and blew out his cheeks. “We barely made it through last year. I say we get off this rock.”
“So,” I huffed “You’re just gonna ditch us?” I’m not really sure why I said anything but this rock happens to be where I live. The weather is in rough shape but who knows what will happen on Mars. They plan on using the same technology that turned our planet into a living hell, and somehow they are going to turn Mars into a paradise.
“You two should come too. Everyone should. Turn that damn weather machine up to eleven and watch the fireworks as we ride off.” Theo said looking almost wistful.
I shot him an angry look and said disbelievingly, “So instead of having people on Mars as insurance and still try and save earth. You’d rather hit self destruct and pray? That damn weather machine is exactly what you’re betting on saving your life.”
“It worked in lab experiments. Our problem was that we tried to edit a code that was still running. Mars has no code, no weather. We just... make it! It might be 75 and sunny all the time! I have to get there and plant my flag before all the good real estate gets taken.”
“If we stay,” I said, nudging Sam “all the rich people leave and a ton of good real estate opens up.”
Sam smiled, “Yeah! I’m gonna have my own island and stuff.”
“Just clinging to that last piece of land.” Theo snorted
“I’m done with this conversation.”
In all reality I was done with the conversation too. I shouldn’t have even joined it but I can’t help it every time this comes around. Humans are so fascinating. They have the capacity to harness energy and use it in curious ways to meet their needs. Then they use it to deprive others of their needs. They create, and destroy. They’re good at destruction. I've been watching them for centuries. Crusades, wars, bombs, book burning. And they live such short lives that they don’t remember, this is the third planet they’ve relocated to.
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[WP] Periodically you find strange little tokens around town that look like your cartoon drawings of you. You've collected several of them over the years, and kept them with you. Today, you died, and you got up like nothing happened. One of the tokens vanishes.
|
Shoot, Lilly, forgot she’s coming today. Double shoot! Need to pick up a parcel. Why can’t they just wait after knocking on the door? Lilly is here in about an hour, gives me some time to practice my art.
Desk mirror, paper, pencil, maybe today I’ll be able to draw myself not looking lopsided. You manage to get one thing right, and three more fall apart. Why can’t drawing be easy?
Alright, these all look horrible, sketchy linework, perspective is off halfway into the face, but at least the eyes match.
“Ted? Ah, there you are.” Lilly’s voice from behind, she let herself in. “Thought I’d find you in here.” She’s just leaning against the door, I’d bet on it. “I rung the bell and knocked, a ton of times.” Yea, she’s leaning against the door. “I don’t think you can complain about delivery notices cluttering your front door, for obvious reasons to anyone but yourself.”
“Sorry, Lilly. I didn’t realize you would come early.”
“Early? It’s four o’clock, we had plans ten minutes ago.” Oh right. “You said you’d be ready in an hour, when I got here.”
“Yea.”
“You’re still in your pajamas.” Lilly sighs whenever she looks down, which seems to happen most of the time when we meet up. I’ve got my head in the clouds, she has hers at her feet.
“I’ll get ready now, won’t take long.” I say about as quickly as I tidy up art supplies and rush to change.
Two minutes isn’t a bad time to get into clean clothes, the hard part is finding the clean stuff in all the hasn’t-been-washed-in-a-week stuff. I wonder if I should get a bigger mirror, maybe that’ll help my character perspectives. Of myself, of course, no one else around to draw, and I’m not much of an imaginative artist, funnily enough.
“Hurry!” Her voice sounds distant in my mostly empty apartment. “The train is leaving in thirty minutes!”
“I know!” I call back, not wanting to miss anything I should bring, but…
Hang on, I don’t remember getting one of my cartoony portraits printed. Or, wait, did I do that last night when drunk? Maybe Lilly will know.
“Sorry, I have everything now.”
“Twenty-five minutes.” She sing-songs a chiding remark the way she always did, even when we were kids. “You know, you might be the slowest, fastest person to get ready.” Lilly’s hand slaps my back, and her face scrunches like her fathers. “I’m impressed at your total lack of competence.”
Just a half-smile and a shake will do for that impression. She should stick to imitating her parent’s signatures.
Lilly’s around a lot. Kind of. Perhaps she’ll want a cartoon drawing of her. If only I could get a hang of not making lines like I’m drawing with a bucket.
“Hey, I was pretty drunk last night, wasn’t I?”
Lilly squirms, meaning I not only was pretty drunk, I was very drunk. Probably did something drunk-like.
“Eh, I guess, why?”
“Look.” I say as I grab the printed portrait of my cartoon face, princely and contorted in a mocking fashion. “What do you think?”
By the time she thought of something to say, we reached the train and boarded.
“It’s cool, I think.” Lilly fiddles with its roundness, small enough to fit into a locket. “Is that what you did last night?” She took the time to find a comfortable window seat. “I don’t remember you talking about it.”
“I don’t know.”
“Does this mean you’re going to be getting serious about your art?”
Uh, I hope she doesn’t mean what I think she does.
“Seriously, you could make some nice money doing this.” Lilly puts the tiny portrait in her coat pocket. “Can I keep this?”
“Sure, I suppose.” The man with the ticket checker comes by. “You really think I’m good?”
“Obviously, it’s why I complimented it.” Lilly rolls her eyes; her hand is still in the pocket with the locket portrait. I still can’t remember where I went to print it. If I did, I’ll take Lilly’s advice, and start making more. Art supplies aren’t cheap, and I won’t get anywhere always thinking my art is bad. Yea, that’s a good idea.
“Thanks.”
As the train rolls through a few stops, this itch in my mind prompts me on the locket sized print, and that I’ve more than one sitting around. I think there was one on my desk. But I have so much artwork I paid it no mind.
“Oh!” She punches my shoulder, pointing out the window at something across a street. The train is parked at a stop, and a lot of people have gotten off. One more stop, for us.
“I don’t see anything.”
“Look harder.” Her finger outlines the object, quickly moving, no, barreling. It’s a truck, maybe a delivery truck, one of those fat ones. On its way through a red light the truck doesn’t stop, people jump out of the way. “You think it’ll crash?”
I didn’t have time to respond.
We sat right in its path.
But I’m awake.
Alive.
Waking up is a strange feeling, sort of like pulling your head from a bowl of cold water, with a numb face that dries all at once. Your ears have been taking in sounds the whole time, but they don’t feel like they have when you wake up. Then the noises come, and your brain gets all jumbled about what’s happening.
I didn’t pay any attention to all the red and blue shifting lights, or the groups of people around, the large delivery truck on its side, flashes of cameras, even uniforms and… ambulances.
The delivery truck hit something, hit it hard and toppled. I’m on my side, I feel someone over me, but my hands are covered. No, buried, under the person on top of me.
Voices aren’t so clear, but they’re probably far away. Yet a couple voices are coming this way, in the train’s halls and seating.
“Found more!” One of them shouts. It’s a man’s voice, old, it has a roughness to it. “Jesus, what a mess.”
“Get the gurney! He’s alive!”
They’re talking about me, or are they talking about who’s on top of me?
Where’s Lilly?
“Where’s Lilly?” My voice is thick, like I’ve eaten but not swallowed.
“Hello?” He’s wearing blue. “Can you hear me?” I nod. “Are you hurt?” I shake my head. I would have shrugged. Is Lilly okay?
“Where’s Lilly?”
“We’re going to get you out of here, just hold on.” He’s ignoring me, I think that means, “can you tell me your name, kid?” I think that means she’s not okay. I think I knew all along she was on me, or I didn't. I don't know.
I see her hand by her pocket, and her fist is loose.
Pain, or shock might make me see things. In her hand the princely cartoon me vanishes like a small campfire’s fading sparks rising.
Why am I okay?
|
An cold impact slammed into the back of my neck, followed almost instantaneously by the warmth of a human hand. A voice, tinged with despair, desire, and what was probably a twisted form of affection sounded from behind me.
"I'll see you on the other side, then." I heard the air part, and a body fell onto the ground. Unable to make a squeak, I soundlessly followed suit, a red liquid dyeing her white uniform crimson. A black fog covered my sight, and the dying warmth from her body swiftly dissipated.
In a world of black, something cracked, and I woke up.
The warmth of a fluffy bed...and the familiar texture of my elderdown blanket. I rubbed my nape, willing the cold, smooth texture away. That had been a bad dream.
The merry jingles of metal coins woke me up from my reverie, and I automatically fumbled for a particular token. It was in a shape of a flower, the kind that kids would draw, and in the center was a cute caricature. It looked something like me... and so I kept it.
There were a few of them lying around town, so every midwinter, I would just make a point to walk around for the heck of it. Lost in my memories, I had noticed that I was unable to find that flower token.
Where was it?
A little feeling of gloom set in, and I felt for another token instead. I flipped it around my fingers masterfully for a few moments, but instead of satisfaction, I found myself unsettled. If I didn't get down to looking for it, I probably won't sleep tonight.
I let out a sigh, and started to head to school. Call it an unconscious act or instinct, but I felt that it was somewhere there. My body, without needing my direction, started to move.
It was a free day, yet I was going to school. What holiday was today again?
It didn't take that long for me to reach the gates. The landscape had gotten overly bright and vivid, yet the edges were blurry. The Pavilion of Flowers...I had an inkling that we treated it as somewhere important.
Wait, we? Clearly, I was getting not enough sleep. I rubbed my eyes, and entered the school premises proper.
The Pavilion was overly bright and blurry. Cordoned off by a surreal, cheery yellow barricade tape, I could spot the familiar golden gleam of the flower token I always held dear.
The one that **she** gave to me. And on the ground, still not moved away by the police, was the body of its previous owner.
Upon observation, it was clear the little flower token had a crack in its center, where the neck was.
|
|
[WP] Periodically you find strange little tokens around town that look like your cartoon drawings of you. You've collected several of them over the years, and kept them with you. Today, you died, and you got up like nothing happened. One of the tokens vanishes.
|
As the shuttle began its decent into the thin Martian atmosphere, a ripple rocked the cabin. The man instinctively reached for the poppet he always kept in his pocket; the last of what he had once considered so many. The girl in the seat next to him began to cry for her Daddy, waiting safely for her and her harried mother on the surface below.
Without thinking, he pulled out the poppet and placed it in the girl's hand. He felt the poppet shift as it changed shape; then he felt nothing and the shuttle and it's occupants disintegrated.
Later, as the clean-up crew sifted through the wreckage, stretched out for miles across the ruddy dust; they picked up a larger fragment of the fuselage. They were shocked to discover a girl underneath; not only intact and apparently unharmed, but very much alive as she opened her eyes and started gasping the thin air. Passing their masks back and forth to the girl, the workers rushed her back to the spaceport dome. The sole survivor of the dozens aboard; her grateful father gathered her into his arms as soon as identification was made.
On the stand next to the hospital bed where she was undergoing a brief observation sat gifts from the staff: bouquets of flowers, boxes of sweets and chocolates, stuffed animals; and a solitary charm bracelet with a dozen charm hooks, and eleven little girl figures hanging from it.
|
An cold impact slammed into the back of my neck, followed almost instantaneously by the warmth of a human hand. A voice, tinged with despair, desire, and what was probably a twisted form of affection sounded from behind me.
"I'll see you on the other side, then." I heard the air part, and a body fell onto the ground. Unable to make a squeak, I soundlessly followed suit, a red liquid dyeing her white uniform crimson. A black fog covered my sight, and the dying warmth from her body swiftly dissipated.
In a world of black, something cracked, and I woke up.
The warmth of a fluffy bed...and the familiar texture of my elderdown blanket. I rubbed my nape, willing the cold, smooth texture away. That had been a bad dream.
The merry jingles of metal coins woke me up from my reverie, and I automatically fumbled for a particular token. It was in a shape of a flower, the kind that kids would draw, and in the center was a cute caricature. It looked something like me... and so I kept it.
There were a few of them lying around town, so every midwinter, I would just make a point to walk around for the heck of it. Lost in my memories, I had noticed that I was unable to find that flower token.
Where was it?
A little feeling of gloom set in, and I felt for another token instead. I flipped it around my fingers masterfully for a few moments, but instead of satisfaction, I found myself unsettled. If I didn't get down to looking for it, I probably won't sleep tonight.
I let out a sigh, and started to head to school. Call it an unconscious act or instinct, but I felt that it was somewhere there. My body, without needing my direction, started to move.
It was a free day, yet I was going to school. What holiday was today again?
It didn't take that long for me to reach the gates. The landscape had gotten overly bright and vivid, yet the edges were blurry. The Pavilion of Flowers...I had an inkling that we treated it as somewhere important.
Wait, we? Clearly, I was getting not enough sleep. I rubbed my eyes, and entered the school premises proper.
The Pavilion was overly bright and blurry. Cordoned off by a surreal, cheery yellow barricade tape, I could spot the familiar golden gleam of the flower token I always held dear.
The one that **she** gave to me. And on the ground, still not moved away by the police, was the body of its previous owner.
Upon observation, it was clear the little flower token had a crack in its center, where the neck was.
|
|
[WP] Periodically you find strange little tokens around town that look like your cartoon drawings of you. You've collected several of them over the years, and kept them with you. Today, you died, and you got up like nothing happened. One of the tokens vanishes.
|
A bullet went through my head ten days ago. My blood meandered down the pavement as the gelid cold of death enveloped my fading life. Then, I woke up the comfort of my bed. What had happened?
At first I thought I had experienced an incredibly vivid dream. However, I knew that was bullshit. It had to be. I'd felt the excruciating pain of my brain collapsing, I'd heard the blood filling the hole the bullet had done. I had seen it through my dying eyes.
There was a crackling in the distance, like burning paper. I yawned my way to the noise and frowned when I reached my token room.
One was missing.
Strange thing that was. I always wondered where did they come from. Did I have a secret fan? Who would spent time drawing my awful face and leaving the drawings in the streets for me to find? I don't know, but I appreciated it with the bottom of my heart. That tiny and creepy gesture brightened my days in a weird way.
Yesterday, I discovered the correlation. I got robbed and stabbed twelve times deep in my guts in the gloom of an alleyway my drunken self had lead me to. I crumbled to the floor, the blood pooled underneath me, my skin grew wan and I *died*. I was sure of it. Then I woke up to a burning smell. Again.
Another token was missing. Could it be? Yes it could. That or I've lost my mind.
Today I shot myself in the head. It worked. One less doubt wandering the burrows of my mind. However, I had a brand new question begging to be answered. That's why I woke up and headed to buy a gun, a glock to be specific.
See, there are people that are better off dead, those whose only purpose is to disturb the peace of my city and life. Many come to my mind, the guy who killed me the first time, the one who stabbed me, the woman that killed my father. There are too many wicked people out thetr that don't understand the value of life, the complexity of it and the self.
Ninety seven tokens remain and I only have one question, a burning one.
*What will happen when I kill someone?* Will it be a life for a token? Or will I be able to cleanse these rotten place once and for all? I don't know but after I send this...
I will know the answer.
-----------------------------------
/r/therobertfall
|
An cold impact slammed into the back of my neck, followed almost instantaneously by the warmth of a human hand. A voice, tinged with despair, desire, and what was probably a twisted form of affection sounded from behind me.
"I'll see you on the other side, then." I heard the air part, and a body fell onto the ground. Unable to make a squeak, I soundlessly followed suit, a red liquid dyeing her white uniform crimson. A black fog covered my sight, and the dying warmth from her body swiftly dissipated.
In a world of black, something cracked, and I woke up.
The warmth of a fluffy bed...and the familiar texture of my elderdown blanket. I rubbed my nape, willing the cold, smooth texture away. That had been a bad dream.
The merry jingles of metal coins woke me up from my reverie, and I automatically fumbled for a particular token. It was in a shape of a flower, the kind that kids would draw, and in the center was a cute caricature. It looked something like me... and so I kept it.
There were a few of them lying around town, so every midwinter, I would just make a point to walk around for the heck of it. Lost in my memories, I had noticed that I was unable to find that flower token.
Where was it?
A little feeling of gloom set in, and I felt for another token instead. I flipped it around my fingers masterfully for a few moments, but instead of satisfaction, I found myself unsettled. If I didn't get down to looking for it, I probably won't sleep tonight.
I let out a sigh, and started to head to school. Call it an unconscious act or instinct, but I felt that it was somewhere there. My body, without needing my direction, started to move.
It was a free day, yet I was going to school. What holiday was today again?
It didn't take that long for me to reach the gates. The landscape had gotten overly bright and vivid, yet the edges were blurry. The Pavilion of Flowers...I had an inkling that we treated it as somewhere important.
Wait, we? Clearly, I was getting not enough sleep. I rubbed my eyes, and entered the school premises proper.
The Pavilion was overly bright and blurry. Cordoned off by a surreal, cheery yellow barricade tape, I could spot the familiar golden gleam of the flower token I always held dear.
The one that **she** gave to me. And on the ground, still not moved away by the police, was the body of its previous owner.
Upon observation, it was clear the little flower token had a crack in its center, where the neck was.
|
|
[WP] Periodically you find strange little tokens around town that look like your cartoon drawings of you. You've collected several of them over the years, and kept them with you. Today, you died, and you got up like nothing happened. One of the tokens vanishes.
|
Shoot, Lilly, forgot she’s coming today. Double shoot! Need to pick up a parcel. Why can’t they just wait after knocking on the door? Lilly is here in about an hour, gives me some time to practice my art.
Desk mirror, paper, pencil, maybe today I’ll be able to draw myself not looking lopsided. You manage to get one thing right, and three more fall apart. Why can’t drawing be easy?
Alright, these all look horrible, sketchy linework, perspective is off halfway into the face, but at least the eyes match.
“Ted? Ah, there you are.” Lilly’s voice from behind, she let herself in. “Thought I’d find you in here.” She’s just leaning against the door, I’d bet on it. “I rung the bell and knocked, a ton of times.” Yea, she’s leaning against the door. “I don’t think you can complain about delivery notices cluttering your front door, for obvious reasons to anyone but yourself.”
“Sorry, Lilly. I didn’t realize you would come early.”
“Early? It’s four o’clock, we had plans ten minutes ago.” Oh right. “You said you’d be ready in an hour, when I got here.”
“Yea.”
“You’re still in your pajamas.” Lilly sighs whenever she looks down, which seems to happen most of the time when we meet up. I’ve got my head in the clouds, she has hers at her feet.
“I’ll get ready now, won’t take long.” I say about as quickly as I tidy up art supplies and rush to change.
Two minutes isn’t a bad time to get into clean clothes, the hard part is finding the clean stuff in all the hasn’t-been-washed-in-a-week stuff. I wonder if I should get a bigger mirror, maybe that’ll help my character perspectives. Of myself, of course, no one else around to draw, and I’m not much of an imaginative artist, funnily enough.
“Hurry!” Her voice sounds distant in my mostly empty apartment. “The train is leaving in thirty minutes!”
“I know!” I call back, not wanting to miss anything I should bring, but…
Hang on, I don’t remember getting one of my cartoony portraits printed. Or, wait, did I do that last night when drunk? Maybe Lilly will know.
“Sorry, I have everything now.”
“Twenty-five minutes.” She sing-songs a chiding remark the way she always did, even when we were kids. “You know, you might be the slowest, fastest person to get ready.” Lilly’s hand slaps my back, and her face scrunches like her fathers. “I’m impressed at your total lack of competence.”
Just a half-smile and a shake will do for that impression. She should stick to imitating her parent’s signatures.
Lilly’s around a lot. Kind of. Perhaps she’ll want a cartoon drawing of her. If only I could get a hang of not making lines like I’m drawing with a bucket.
“Hey, I was pretty drunk last night, wasn’t I?”
Lilly squirms, meaning I not only was pretty drunk, I was very drunk. Probably did something drunk-like.
“Eh, I guess, why?”
“Look.” I say as I grab the printed portrait of my cartoon face, princely and contorted in a mocking fashion. “What do you think?”
By the time she thought of something to say, we reached the train and boarded.
“It’s cool, I think.” Lilly fiddles with its roundness, small enough to fit into a locket. “Is that what you did last night?” She took the time to find a comfortable window seat. “I don’t remember you talking about it.”
“I don’t know.”
“Does this mean you’re going to be getting serious about your art?”
Uh, I hope she doesn’t mean what I think she does.
“Seriously, you could make some nice money doing this.” Lilly puts the tiny portrait in her coat pocket. “Can I keep this?”
“Sure, I suppose.” The man with the ticket checker comes by. “You really think I’m good?”
“Obviously, it’s why I complimented it.” Lilly rolls her eyes; her hand is still in the pocket with the locket portrait. I still can’t remember where I went to print it. If I did, I’ll take Lilly’s advice, and start making more. Art supplies aren’t cheap, and I won’t get anywhere always thinking my art is bad. Yea, that’s a good idea.
“Thanks.”
As the train rolls through a few stops, this itch in my mind prompts me on the locket sized print, and that I’ve more than one sitting around. I think there was one on my desk. But I have so much artwork I paid it no mind.
“Oh!” She punches my shoulder, pointing out the window at something across a street. The train is parked at a stop, and a lot of people have gotten off. One more stop, for us.
“I don’t see anything.”
“Look harder.” Her finger outlines the object, quickly moving, no, barreling. It’s a truck, maybe a delivery truck, one of those fat ones. On its way through a red light the truck doesn’t stop, people jump out of the way. “You think it’ll crash?”
I didn’t have time to respond.
We sat right in its path.
But I’m awake.
Alive.
Waking up is a strange feeling, sort of like pulling your head from a bowl of cold water, with a numb face that dries all at once. Your ears have been taking in sounds the whole time, but they don’t feel like they have when you wake up. Then the noises come, and your brain gets all jumbled about what’s happening.
I didn’t pay any attention to all the red and blue shifting lights, or the groups of people around, the large delivery truck on its side, flashes of cameras, even uniforms and… ambulances.
The delivery truck hit something, hit it hard and toppled. I’m on my side, I feel someone over me, but my hands are covered. No, buried, under the person on top of me.
Voices aren’t so clear, but they’re probably far away. Yet a couple voices are coming this way, in the train’s halls and seating.
“Found more!” One of them shouts. It’s a man’s voice, old, it has a roughness to it. “Jesus, what a mess.”
“Get the gurney! He’s alive!”
They’re talking about me, or are they talking about who’s on top of me?
Where’s Lilly?
“Where’s Lilly?” My voice is thick, like I’ve eaten but not swallowed.
“Hello?” He’s wearing blue. “Can you hear me?” I nod. “Are you hurt?” I shake my head. I would have shrugged. Is Lilly okay?
“Where’s Lilly?”
“We’re going to get you out of here, just hold on.” He’s ignoring me, I think that means, “can you tell me your name, kid?” I think that means she’s not okay. I think I knew all along she was on me, or I didn't. I don't know.
I see her hand by her pocket, and her fist is loose.
Pain, or shock might make me see things. In her hand the princely cartoon me vanishes like a small campfire’s fading sparks rising.
Why am I okay?
|
"Ow" i sat up in my bed cradling my head as my whole body hurt. Wait, my bed? I jumped out of my bed so fast that my foot got caught in the blanket
CRACK
I sat up in bed my head absolutely pounding, my blankets half pulled off my bed by... wait what?! That is me, or at least was me. I got out of bed, slowly and careful not to step in my blood.
I slowly pushed the corpse's face up. Yep, it may be covered in blood and the nose may be smashed but that is my face.
A million thoughts flashed through my mind. How could this be? So I was hit by that bus? What does this mean? And probably most importantly, what should I do with my corpse?
Hm, I wonder. I go over to my closet and search for a small cloth bag and poured out the bag and a bunch of shiny black coins clink to to the floor. On one side it has a large arrow going up that says "one up" and on the other it has a cartoonist picture of my face in profile. I have been collecting these coins since I was 5 in total I had 645. I quickly sort them to find that while I still had 645, two coins had turned a lusterless white and instead of having the arrow and "one up" it has a grinning chibi skull and says "for easy clean up"
I look at the changed coin then at my corpse. Impossible, yet apparently true. So if the one up coin worked ...
I take the white coin and toss it at my corpse, not wanting to touch it. The coin lands on the body and starts to turn to ash that spreads over the whole body, even covering the pool of blood. Then the ash was blown away leaving no trace of my corpse or the white coin.
This changes things
|
|
[WP] Periodically you find strange little tokens around town that look like your cartoon drawings of you. You've collected several of them over the years, and kept them with you. Today, you died, and you got up like nothing happened. One of the tokens vanishes.
|
As the shuttle began its decent into the thin Martian atmosphere, a ripple rocked the cabin. The man instinctively reached for the poppet he always kept in his pocket; the last of what he had once considered so many. The girl in the seat next to him began to cry for her Daddy, waiting safely for her and her harried mother on the surface below.
Without thinking, he pulled out the poppet and placed it in the girl's hand. He felt the poppet shift as it changed shape; then he felt nothing and the shuttle and it's occupants disintegrated.
Later, as the clean-up crew sifted through the wreckage, stretched out for miles across the ruddy dust; they picked up a larger fragment of the fuselage. They were shocked to discover a girl underneath; not only intact and apparently unharmed, but very much alive as she opened her eyes and started gasping the thin air. Passing their masks back and forth to the girl, the workers rushed her back to the spaceport dome. The sole survivor of the dozens aboard; her grateful father gathered her into his arms as soon as identification was made.
On the stand next to the hospital bed where she was undergoing a brief observation sat gifts from the staff: bouquets of flowers, boxes of sweets and chocolates, stuffed animals; and a solitary charm bracelet with a dozen charm hooks, and eleven little girl figures hanging from it.
|
"Ow" i sat up in my bed cradling my head as my whole body hurt. Wait, my bed? I jumped out of my bed so fast that my foot got caught in the blanket
CRACK
I sat up in bed my head absolutely pounding, my blankets half pulled off my bed by... wait what?! That is me, or at least was me. I got out of bed, slowly and careful not to step in my blood.
I slowly pushed the corpse's face up. Yep, it may be covered in blood and the nose may be smashed but that is my face.
A million thoughts flashed through my mind. How could this be? So I was hit by that bus? What does this mean? And probably most importantly, what should I do with my corpse?
Hm, I wonder. I go over to my closet and search for a small cloth bag and poured out the bag and a bunch of shiny black coins clink to to the floor. On one side it has a large arrow going up that says "one up" and on the other it has a cartoonist picture of my face in profile. I have been collecting these coins since I was 5 in total I had 645. I quickly sort them to find that while I still had 645, two coins had turned a lusterless white and instead of having the arrow and "one up" it has a grinning chibi skull and says "for easy clean up"
I look at the changed coin then at my corpse. Impossible, yet apparently true. So if the one up coin worked ...
I take the white coin and toss it at my corpse, not wanting to touch it. The coin lands on the body and starts to turn to ash that spreads over the whole body, even covering the pool of blood. Then the ash was blown away leaving no trace of my corpse or the white coin.
This changes things
|
|
[WP] Periodically you find strange little tokens around town that look like your cartoon drawings of you. You've collected several of them over the years, and kept them with you. Today, you died, and you got up like nothing happened. One of the tokens vanishes.
|
As the shuttle began its decent into the thin Martian atmosphere, a ripple rocked the cabin. The man instinctively reached for the poppet he always kept in his pocket; the last of what he had once considered so many. The girl in the seat next to him began to cry for her Daddy, waiting safely for her and her harried mother on the surface below.
Without thinking, he pulled out the poppet and placed it in the girl's hand. He felt the poppet shift as it changed shape; then he felt nothing and the shuttle and it's occupants disintegrated.
Later, as the clean-up crew sifted through the wreckage, stretched out for miles across the ruddy dust; they picked up a larger fragment of the fuselage. They were shocked to discover a girl underneath; not only intact and apparently unharmed, but very much alive as she opened her eyes and started gasping the thin air. Passing their masks back and forth to the girl, the workers rushed her back to the spaceport dome. The sole survivor of the dozens aboard; her grateful father gathered her into his arms as soon as identification was made.
On the stand next to the hospital bed where she was undergoing a brief observation sat gifts from the staff: bouquets of flowers, boxes of sweets and chocolates, stuffed animals; and a solitary charm bracelet with a dozen charm hooks, and eleven little girl figures hanging from it.
|
This is my first time writing, I would appreciate some feedback.
I was about 5 years old when I first started collecting the coins. I even told my parents about them, they couldn't see them and thought I was just a child with a wild fantasy. I'm 21 now and I still see them but less now then before. The coins always depicted a cartoon character and would often appear after I watch a couple hours of that cartoon.
I had about 20 of them now and I still was the only one able to see them.
"Ha another one, you guys are starting to become rarer and rarer for me"
"So this makes 21, weird how I never found a duplicate one"
"Well time for you to be added to my display at home"
As I walked home from the grocery I got lost in thoughts happy about finally finding another coin.
At that moment I heard screeching tires coming from behind me as I glance to my back, I close my eyes awaiting the impact.
Nothing. I open up my eyes again and see the car which was coming towards me calmly driving by.
"Did I just imagine that? Well, people always said I have an active imagination"
I couldn't wait to get home to put my new coin in the display, so I rushed back home full of excitement.
When I opened my display at home I noticed a coin missing. It was my Lightning McQueen one. Thinking I might have dropped it somewhere I look around.
"Where the hell could it be?"
"It's getting a bit late now, I'll look for it tomorrow after work"
The next day I still could not find my coin. Defeated I gave up the search and accepted it was gone.
"Let's hope I'll find another one" I said to myself.
A week went by. It was just an ordinary week again, go to work, get home and every so often buy groceries.
On my walk back home I heard some loud bangs. Not knowing what it is I stand still and watch. That is the moment a lost bullet hits me, the bangs were gunshots from people trying to hit the person behind me. As I lay on the street feeling colder and colder I feel myself slipping away. I close my eyes.
"What the fuck?" i mumble to myself.
I look behind me and see the guy who was being shot at calmly walking and the gunmen are gone.
"Pardon me, but did you hear something just now?" I asked the men walking behind me.
"I don't know what you're after man, I just hear the cars passing by and people talking"
Did I imagine it again? It couldn't be right? It all felt so real.
When I got home, I put away my groceries again and sit behind my desk lost in thoughts of what just happend.
I look up at my display and again I noticed a token missing. This time it was my Elmer Fudd token which was gone.
This couldn't be possible, I know for sure it was locked and this morning it was still there.
That is when it hit me. Last week I thought I got hit by a car, this week I thought I got shot. These tokens wouldn't have anything to do with that would they?
"If what I think is true, that would mean these tokens stand for an extra life in certain events"
I shake my head.
"No that is just stupid of me to think, it's all just a coincidence. It isn't possible for such a thing to happen"
That night I tried to sleep but my head was full of thoughts about the events that happend to me, why did I experience them and who do these tokens belong to.
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|
[WP] Periodically you find strange little tokens around town that look like your cartoon drawings of you. You've collected several of them over the years, and kept them with you. Today, you died, and you got up like nothing happened. One of the tokens vanishes.
|
A bullet went through my head ten days ago. My blood meandered down the pavement as the gelid cold of death enveloped my fading life. Then, I woke up the comfort of my bed. What had happened?
At first I thought I had experienced an incredibly vivid dream. However, I knew that was bullshit. It had to be. I'd felt the excruciating pain of my brain collapsing, I'd heard the blood filling the hole the bullet had done. I had seen it through my dying eyes.
There was a crackling in the distance, like burning paper. I yawned my way to the noise and frowned when I reached my token room.
One was missing.
Strange thing that was. I always wondered where did they come from. Did I have a secret fan? Who would spent time drawing my awful face and leaving the drawings in the streets for me to find? I don't know, but I appreciated it with the bottom of my heart. That tiny and creepy gesture brightened my days in a weird way.
Yesterday, I discovered the correlation. I got robbed and stabbed twelve times deep in my guts in the gloom of an alleyway my drunken self had lead me to. I crumbled to the floor, the blood pooled underneath me, my skin grew wan and I *died*. I was sure of it. Then I woke up to a burning smell. Again.
Another token was missing. Could it be? Yes it could. That or I've lost my mind.
Today I shot myself in the head. It worked. One less doubt wandering the burrows of my mind. However, I had a brand new question begging to be answered. That's why I woke up and headed to buy a gun, a glock to be specific.
See, there are people that are better off dead, those whose only purpose is to disturb the peace of my city and life. Many come to my mind, the guy who killed me the first time, the one who stabbed me, the woman that killed my father. There are too many wicked people out thetr that don't understand the value of life, the complexity of it and the self.
Ninety seven tokens remain and I only have one question, a burning one.
*What will happen when I kill someone?* Will it be a life for a token? Or will I be able to cleanse these rotten place once and for all? I don't know but after I send this...
I will know the answer.
-----------------------------------
/r/therobertfall
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This is my first time writing, I would appreciate some feedback.
I was about 5 years old when I first started collecting the coins. I even told my parents about them, they couldn't see them and thought I was just a child with a wild fantasy. I'm 21 now and I still see them but less now then before. The coins always depicted a cartoon character and would often appear after I watch a couple hours of that cartoon.
I had about 20 of them now and I still was the only one able to see them.
"Ha another one, you guys are starting to become rarer and rarer for me"
"So this makes 21, weird how I never found a duplicate one"
"Well time for you to be added to my display at home"
As I walked home from the grocery I got lost in thoughts happy about finally finding another coin.
At that moment I heard screeching tires coming from behind me as I glance to my back, I close my eyes awaiting the impact.
Nothing. I open up my eyes again and see the car which was coming towards me calmly driving by.
"Did I just imagine that? Well, people always said I have an active imagination"
I couldn't wait to get home to put my new coin in the display, so I rushed back home full of excitement.
When I opened my display at home I noticed a coin missing. It was my Lightning McQueen one. Thinking I might have dropped it somewhere I look around.
"Where the hell could it be?"
"It's getting a bit late now, I'll look for it tomorrow after work"
The next day I still could not find my coin. Defeated I gave up the search and accepted it was gone.
"Let's hope I'll find another one" I said to myself.
A week went by. It was just an ordinary week again, go to work, get home and every so often buy groceries.
On my walk back home I heard some loud bangs. Not knowing what it is I stand still and watch. That is the moment a lost bullet hits me, the bangs were gunshots from people trying to hit the person behind me. As I lay on the street feeling colder and colder I feel myself slipping away. I close my eyes.
"What the fuck?" i mumble to myself.
I look behind me and see the guy who was being shot at calmly walking and the gunmen are gone.
"Pardon me, but did you hear something just now?" I asked the men walking behind me.
"I don't know what you're after man, I just hear the cars passing by and people talking"
Did I imagine it again? It couldn't be right? It all felt so real.
When I got home, I put away my groceries again and sit behind my desk lost in thoughts of what just happend.
I look up at my display and again I noticed a token missing. This time it was my Elmer Fudd token which was gone.
This couldn't be possible, I know for sure it was locked and this morning it was still there.
That is when it hit me. Last week I thought I got hit by a car, this week I thought I got shot. These tokens wouldn't have anything to do with that would they?
"If what I think is true, that would mean these tokens stand for an extra life in certain events"
I shake my head.
"No that is just stupid of me to think, it's all just a coincidence. It isn't possible for such a thing to happen"
That night I tried to sleep but my head was full of thoughts about the events that happend to me, why did I experience them and who do these tokens belong to.
|
|
[WP] Periodically you find strange little tokens around town that look like your cartoon drawings of you. You've collected several of them over the years, and kept them with you. Today, you died, and you got up like nothing happened. One of the tokens vanishes.
|
A bullet went through my head ten days ago. My blood meandered down the pavement as the gelid cold of death enveloped my fading life. Then, I woke up the comfort of my bed. What had happened?
At first I thought I had experienced an incredibly vivid dream. However, I knew that was bullshit. It had to be. I'd felt the excruciating pain of my brain collapsing, I'd heard the blood filling the hole the bullet had done. I had seen it through my dying eyes.
There was a crackling in the distance, like burning paper. I yawned my way to the noise and frowned when I reached my token room.
One was missing.
Strange thing that was. I always wondered where did they come from. Did I have a secret fan? Who would spent time drawing my awful face and leaving the drawings in the streets for me to find? I don't know, but I appreciated it with the bottom of my heart. That tiny and creepy gesture brightened my days in a weird way.
Yesterday, I discovered the correlation. I got robbed and stabbed twelve times deep in my guts in the gloom of an alleyway my drunken self had lead me to. I crumbled to the floor, the blood pooled underneath me, my skin grew wan and I *died*. I was sure of it. Then I woke up to a burning smell. Again.
Another token was missing. Could it be? Yes it could. That or I've lost my mind.
Today I shot myself in the head. It worked. One less doubt wandering the burrows of my mind. However, I had a brand new question begging to be answered. That's why I woke up and headed to buy a gun, a glock to be specific.
See, there are people that are better off dead, those whose only purpose is to disturb the peace of my city and life. Many come to my mind, the guy who killed me the first time, the one who stabbed me, the woman that killed my father. There are too many wicked people out thetr that don't understand the value of life, the complexity of it and the self.
Ninety seven tokens remain and I only have one question, a burning one.
*What will happen when I kill someone?* Will it be a life for a token? Or will I be able to cleanse these rotten place once and for all? I don't know but after I send this...
I will know the answer.
-----------------------------------
/r/therobertfall
|
English is not my first language and I'm by no means a writer but I'll give it a shot :).
Title: Clay's saving grace.
Michael woke up profusely sweating.
"AAAHHHH!!!"
He looked around aimlessly, what once was his room now felt like a strange, odd place to him.
"What the..."
Blinking as you would when you see a ghost, he found looking at himself in the mirror a strange experience. Michael Stone didn't feel like himself today.
Twelve hours earlier, a heated discussion had taken place in Courtney O'Donell's house. Michael's ex wife assumed he was on a business trip as did the gardener, before using the best flowers he had ever planted to woo miss Stone successfully. Once the fight was over, the cheated bastard had a rake stuck to his heart, and a knife to his soul.
After drinking what felt like twenty coffees, he finally had the bravery to lift his shirt up. Horrified, his mouth got stuck wide open as he realized his chest had a scar that could only be left by a rake put through you by an angry, unscrupulous gardener.
"Am I a zombie?" His head pondered. "No, it can't be. Zombies were made up by some dude in a basement. They don't exist."
He zipped his coffee once more, grabbed a cigarrette.
"Am I... immortal?"
Hours, coffees and cigarrettes went by. As he became less aware of his new found immortality, the memories of Courtney and Julio the gardener came back with a punch. With the punch of a rake being profusely used to move grass.
One Walmart trip later, Michael had enough rat poison to end the bubonic plague should he travel back in time. "Testing immortality should spare no expense", he thought. Back home, he sat down in front of his "shrine", a sort of altar his son had made to him when he was alive. It had all sorts of drawings, letters and mementos dedicated to his soon to be divorced father. Tears came down Michael's cheek.
"Son. I'm coming."
Pills came down his throat. Michael collapsed against the shrine.
Nothing but darkness filled the room.
Twelve hours later, a hungovered Michael blinked slowly as he regained conscioussness.
"Holy sh..."
He looked at a clay statue his son had made of him. It was lacking two things: It's heart, and it's brain. Michael quickly realized his life depended on one of the softest materials in the world. Another trip to Walmart was in order. This time, to make sure it was the safest clay figure in human history.
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[WP] Periodically you find strange little tokens around town that look like your cartoon drawings of you. You've collected several of them over the years, and kept them with you. Today, you died, and you got up like nothing happened. One of the tokens vanishes.
|
In the beginning it seemed coincidental. A token here, a token there, but before long they showed up more frequently. Despite my lack of knowledge regarding the coins, I kept them anyways. I had around sixteen in my collection sprawled about my room and in various pairs of pants. At first coins displaying a cartoon version of my face showing up freaked me out, but over time they sort of became comforting. They were my good luck charms.
"Yeah one day they just started showing up. I don't question it much."
"Hazel. You do realize this could be some kinda perv watching you and...and"
"And what? Manufacturing and giving me coins? You're looking too far into it dude. I don't really care where they come from they're just one of those things I guess"
"One of those things? What *things*? A thing would be like me remembering a book title as Berenstein instead of Bearenstain, not finding mysteriois coins of me"
"Can we just stop talking about it? I don't care where or who they're from. As a matter of fact there's one now see."
A gold coin caught my eye in the middle of the street, gleaming in the sun.
"Hazel c'mon. Don't go over there"
"It's no use, if I ignore it it'll just show up in a more intrusive spot. The last one I ignored wound up in my coffee. I'll be quick!"
I looked both ways and ran out into the street to grab the small coin. Rubbing the familiar piece of metal between my fingers was comforting. Gene stared from the edge of the sidewalk, ushering me to get out of the road.
It happened before either of us had time to react. I began to stumble on my way back to Gene, then I collapsed. My body had completely shut down. I was surrounded by darkness for a brief moment followed by a flash of light and
*Ding*
My eyes shot open and I awoke to Gene holding me sitting on the sidewalk. His expression changed from fear to relief when he saw me.
"You- You we're just- The blood- Are you ok? I'm calling an ambulance"
"No no I feel fine. As a matter of fact I feel great! What'd you do to save me?"
"I dragged you over to the sidewalk and almost cried...I don't think that's what did it"
I reached into my pocket to proudly display my prize for nearly dying, but it was nowhere to be found. I got up from Gene and searched the ground around where I fainted.
"Gene where's the coin? I just had it here what'd you do with it?"
"Uh nothing? You should get home and talk to your mom if you won't let me call you an ambulance. C'mon."
I searched for a bit more for the coin, but it was nowhere to be found. It would show up later if I lost it anyways.
"Hey! Stop running so I can catch up!"
"I have too much energy I can't help myself!" I yelled back from far ahead of Gene
"Stop running before you crack your skull open again!"
When I got home I still felt energized. It was as if I had just gotten a full day of sleep followed by drinking a gallon of coffee...on second thought that last part sounds terrible. I decided not to tell my mom about my accident, she'd only worry and I preferred not to dig too deep into these things.
"Hey Gene called and told me that you had a spill, are you ok sweetie?"
"Uh..oh yeah I almost forgot. Yeah I fell, but as you can see I'm fine! No problems here"
"Well aren't you excitable! Ok honey, just be safe ok?"
Gene worried too much.
I made my way to my room and spread all the coins I could find on the dresser. Sixteen gold coins gleamed from the room light overhead.
I sat admiring my collection of strange coins and took one in my hand. Suddenly there was a loud noise, followed by a flash.
*Ding*
*Beep beep beep*
The house was in ruins. My room in tatters with fire spreading to the far walls. Debris littered the floor, and the roof had caved in. My ears rung, and ash caked my face, but I was alive. The coins still lay in a perfect pile on the ashes of what was once my dresser. I grabbed them and crawled towards the living room where my mom just was. Despite the smoke and chaos I felt great. I lifted large piles of debris in an effort to get to my mom, but the fire had spread. Sirens blared from outside, and I was lifted out of what was once my home before I could make it to mom.
The firemen checked me for injuries, but I was in mint condition. They all seemed amazed that I was even breathing. I waited anxiously until finally they pulled my mother from the debris. She was severely injured, but alive.
I wanted to be worried about my mom, I truly did, but I had more on my mind. There was no way I could've survived whatever happened, hell they're was no way that I should have lived through cracking my skull on the pavement. There was only one way to figure out if my theory was correct. I slowly got up from the back of the ambulance then sprinted back towards the burning rubble. My hand firmly clutched a coin and my heart raced as I approached the fire. Men yelled and chased after me, but they were too late. I had already launched myself back into the flames, letting them engulf my body.
It only hurt for a moment. The heat quickly absorbed my being turning me to ash.
*Ding*
The fire dissapaited and I walked out of the rubble to the amazement of those around. I knew there was only one thing I could do now. I had to find the source of the coins.
Edit: thank you all for the feedback I really appreciate it part 2 will be up in the next few hours!
Edit 2: I understand a bit of frustration in the vagueness of the first story, but it will be in 3 parts so it'll be explained. Part 2 is now up.
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English is not my first language and I'm by no means a writer but I'll give it a shot :).
Title: Clay's saving grace.
Michael woke up profusely sweating.
"AAAHHHH!!!"
He looked around aimlessly, what once was his room now felt like a strange, odd place to him.
"What the..."
Blinking as you would when you see a ghost, he found looking at himself in the mirror a strange experience. Michael Stone didn't feel like himself today.
Twelve hours earlier, a heated discussion had taken place in Courtney O'Donell's house. Michael's ex wife assumed he was on a business trip as did the gardener, before using the best flowers he had ever planted to woo miss Stone successfully. Once the fight was over, the cheated bastard had a rake stuck to his heart, and a knife to his soul.
After drinking what felt like twenty coffees, he finally had the bravery to lift his shirt up. Horrified, his mouth got stuck wide open as he realized his chest had a scar that could only be left by a rake put through you by an angry, unscrupulous gardener.
"Am I a zombie?" His head pondered. "No, it can't be. Zombies were made up by some dude in a basement. They don't exist."
He zipped his coffee once more, grabbed a cigarrette.
"Am I... immortal?"
Hours, coffees and cigarrettes went by. As he became less aware of his new found immortality, the memories of Courtney and Julio the gardener came back with a punch. With the punch of a rake being profusely used to move grass.
One Walmart trip later, Michael had enough rat poison to end the bubonic plague should he travel back in time. "Testing immortality should spare no expense", he thought. Back home, he sat down in front of his "shrine", a sort of altar his son had made to him when he was alive. It had all sorts of drawings, letters and mementos dedicated to his soon to be divorced father. Tears came down Michael's cheek.
"Son. I'm coming."
Pills came down his throat. Michael collapsed against the shrine.
Nothing but darkness filled the room.
Twelve hours later, a hungovered Michael blinked slowly as he regained conscioussness.
"Holy sh..."
He looked at a clay statue his son had made of him. It was lacking two things: It's heart, and it's brain. Michael quickly realized his life depended on one of the softest materials in the world. Another trip to Walmart was in order. This time, to make sure it was the safest clay figure in human history.
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[WP] Your physics professor is 20 minutes late to class, and counting. Everyone is packing up, but when the first student tries to open the door, it's locked. Your professor's voice comes from the speakers. "It's time to see how well you've learned."
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The chair under me explodes and my lower half is torn to shreds. My classmates gather around me in horror as life leaves my shreded corpse. As my last breath escapes my lungs, I hear my professor say "just figured I'd go ahead and get this out of the way. He'd have never made it anyways."
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"Son of a bitch." The student said under his breath, as he jiggled the classroom door handle. He walked off angrily, beckoning for another to try.
*Shit.* James McKinley thought. *This is going to be terrible.*
And he was right, as the professor's voice began to broadcast over the classroom speakers.
"Listen up children." He said mockingly, his tone almost cold and sadistic. "Today is going to be your final test. The test that will determine how well you have learned."
A small device sitting on the front desk lit up. In a flash, it pulsed, and grayish-blue light resonated outward in a wave. The lights flickered off, and the students were in complete darkness.
"If you pass, you are free to go. If you fail..."
Red emergency lighting flickered on. James looked around, searching for a clue.
"You'll end up like the rest."
Two. There were only two other students left in the room. One was a nice chick, who was considerably one of the smartest students to ever come in here, named Sarah. The other, a quiet man they called David, was a reject. The school had picked him up a while back, the weirdo on the block whose parents were monsters. James hated him. He had to.
"Escape." The professor croaked. And there was nothing. No further word. No response. No clue. Nothing around to help them.
And then they waited.
Hour after hour progressed, day after day, year after year. It felt like an eternity. Timeless. Like that of a demonic dream. They searched and searched, but to no avail.
"What are we going to do?" Sarah said, over and over. That's all she said. *What are we going to do?* Over and over across eternity as they watched the hands on the clock slowly turning, again and again, to the point of utter madness. Someone was going to snap. Someone had to. The world was devolving.
"What are we going to do?" David repeated back to her, looking at the ceiling. *"What are we ever going to do?"*
And then James remembered. He remembered everything.
*Wake up.* He thought. *WAKE UP*
*And the everything went black*
He gasped for air, rising up from the deep depth of nothingness and emerging from his bed unharmed. Next to him, a doctor, surprised to see him awake.
"Ah! Good!" The doctor said, checking James to see if he was unharmed. "You have returned! I see our efforts were not in vain. You have done well."
"Thank you." James responded in kind, breathing in the air of the facility. And yet, it was so very welcome.
"I take it you have found information on the suspect?"
"Subconsciously, yes. The man's name is David Fink, and he is a physics professor at the University. An interesting choice for a resistance leader, no?"
"Indeed. Your information was incredibly helpful. Now get some rest. You will be debriefed by our officers in a few hours on your next assignment."
As James got up to walk out, the doctor paused. He called for James, at least one last time.
"Goodbye James." He said with a sad smile. "And Heil Hitler."
"Heil Hitler." James said, with a wry smile.
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[WP] Your physics professor is 20 minutes late to class, and counting. Everyone is packing up, but when the first student tries to open the door, it's locked. Your professor's voice comes from the speakers. "It's time to see how well you've learned."
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There was, to be honest, a fair amount of shock from the room.
"What is she talking about? How well we've learned... physics?"
"Is this like Saw? I love those movies, but I never wanted to be in one!"
"My cell phone isn't working!"
"We're in an inside room - there's now window to get out of..."
The intercom blared back to life: "Calm down and take your seats, and I'll explain."
Everyone went back to their seats and became very quiet. If anything, they were curious as to what the hell was going on.
The professor continued: "OK - so as you know, the university is tearing down Aberdeen Hall and replacing it. That's well and fine, it's the oldest building in the university. But, we got an internal memo this morning that the physics department is... well, let me read it to you."
There was a shuffling of paper, and when she started again, she sounded less composed: "Campbell University is best known for our liberal arts and football programs. Many of our departments offer no meaningful life lessons for our target student types, and we must dedicate resources to our core strengths. Biology and Earth Science will continue as auditorium lecture courses; Chemistry and Physics are being eliminated entirely."
There was some shock around the room. To be sure, no one here was a science geek. But the class had been enjoyable, and some of the simple demonstrations - standing on a bed of nails, for example - were entertaining.
After a pause, she continued: "Given the university's... idiotic stance... Well, I felt that my last class at this school should help the administration learn a lesson. But as much fun as it might be to attack them with a makeshift potato cannon, that's very illegal and morally wrong. We're going to go with 'slightly' illegal and morally OK instead."
Murmurs started to pick up - what in the hell did she have in mind?
"As you've noticed, the only door is jammed. I've complained to maintenance about it a few times, but we're the lowest priority, of course. Sure, it's.... 'extra-jammed' this time, but that's not the point. If the school can't see why physics is useful, I want you to show them. Get the door open. You'll find all the cupboards are unlocked - I was doing inventory - so you have access to everything you should need: pulleys, rope, weights, hooks..."
"When you get out, feel free to tell them about this intercom message or not; I don't want to go to jail, really, but I was getting fired anyway, so I'm not sure I really care. Don't start a fire; you shouldn't need one."
I looked around the classroom. There were a couple faces a bit disappointed at that last remark, but there were also these wicked grins forming. I felt my own as well - sure, I didn't love physics, but this was a good hands on puzzle, and it felt like we were doing something to help right a wrong.
"You should have about 60 minutes left before enough of you are missing from the next period that someone contacts the dean's office. Oh, and like any assignment, SHOW YOUR WORK on the chalkboard!" She laughed, but it was a dry, sad chuckle. Then the intercom cut off.
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"Son of a bitch." The student said under his breath, as he jiggled the classroom door handle. He walked off angrily, beckoning for another to try.
*Shit.* James McKinley thought. *This is going to be terrible.*
And he was right, as the professor's voice began to broadcast over the classroom speakers.
"Listen up children." He said mockingly, his tone almost cold and sadistic. "Today is going to be your final test. The test that will determine how well you have learned."
A small device sitting on the front desk lit up. In a flash, it pulsed, and grayish-blue light resonated outward in a wave. The lights flickered off, and the students were in complete darkness.
"If you pass, you are free to go. If you fail..."
Red emergency lighting flickered on. James looked around, searching for a clue.
"You'll end up like the rest."
Two. There were only two other students left in the room. One was a nice chick, who was considerably one of the smartest students to ever come in here, named Sarah. The other, a quiet man they called David, was a reject. The school had picked him up a while back, the weirdo on the block whose parents were monsters. James hated him. He had to.
"Escape." The professor croaked. And there was nothing. No further word. No response. No clue. Nothing around to help them.
And then they waited.
Hour after hour progressed, day after day, year after year. It felt like an eternity. Timeless. Like that of a demonic dream. They searched and searched, but to no avail.
"What are we going to do?" Sarah said, over and over. That's all she said. *What are we going to do?* Over and over across eternity as they watched the hands on the clock slowly turning, again and again, to the point of utter madness. Someone was going to snap. Someone had to. The world was devolving.
"What are we going to do?" David repeated back to her, looking at the ceiling. *"What are we ever going to do?"*
And then James remembered. He remembered everything.
*Wake up.* He thought. *WAKE UP*
*And the everything went black*
He gasped for air, rising up from the deep depth of nothingness and emerging from his bed unharmed. Next to him, a doctor, surprised to see him awake.
"Ah! Good!" The doctor said, checking James to see if he was unharmed. "You have returned! I see our efforts were not in vain. You have done well."
"Thank you." James responded in kind, breathing in the air of the facility. And yet, it was so very welcome.
"I take it you have found information on the suspect?"
"Subconsciously, yes. The man's name is David Fink, and he is a physics professor at the University. An interesting choice for a resistance leader, no?"
"Indeed. Your information was incredibly helpful. Now get some rest. You will be debriefed by our officers in a few hours on your next assignment."
As James got up to walk out, the doctor paused. He called for James, at least one last time.
"Goodbye James." He said with a sad smile. "And Heil Hitler."
"Heil Hitler." James said, with a wry smile.
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[WP] Your physics professor is 20 minutes late to class, and counting. Everyone is packing up, but when the first student tries to open the door, it's locked. Your professor's voice comes from the speakers. "It's time to see how well you've learned."
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There was, to be honest, a fair amount of shock from the room.
"What is she talking about? How well we've learned... physics?"
"Is this like Saw? I love those movies, but I never wanted to be in one!"
"My cell phone isn't working!"
"We're in an inside room - there's now window to get out of..."
The intercom blared back to life: "Calm down and take your seats, and I'll explain."
Everyone went back to their seats and became very quiet. If anything, they were curious as to what the hell was going on.
The professor continued: "OK - so as you know, the university is tearing down Aberdeen Hall and replacing it. That's well and fine, it's the oldest building in the university. But, we got an internal memo this morning that the physics department is... well, let me read it to you."
There was a shuffling of paper, and when she started again, she sounded less composed: "Campbell University is best known for our liberal arts and football programs. Many of our departments offer no meaningful life lessons for our target student types, and we must dedicate resources to our core strengths. Biology and Earth Science will continue as auditorium lecture courses; Chemistry and Physics are being eliminated entirely."
There was some shock around the room. To be sure, no one here was a science geek. But the class had been enjoyable, and some of the simple demonstrations - standing on a bed of nails, for example - were entertaining.
After a pause, she continued: "Given the university's... idiotic stance... Well, I felt that my last class at this school should help the administration learn a lesson. But as much fun as it might be to attack them with a makeshift potato cannon, that's very illegal and morally wrong. We're going to go with 'slightly' illegal and morally OK instead."
Murmurs started to pick up - what in the hell did she have in mind?
"As you've noticed, the only door is jammed. I've complained to maintenance about it a few times, but we're the lowest priority, of course. Sure, it's.... 'extra-jammed' this time, but that's not the point. If the school can't see why physics is useful, I want you to show them. Get the door open. You'll find all the cupboards are unlocked - I was doing inventory - so you have access to everything you should need: pulleys, rope, weights, hooks..."
"When you get out, feel free to tell them about this intercom message or not; I don't want to go to jail, really, but I was getting fired anyway, so I'm not sure I really care. Don't start a fire; you shouldn't need one."
I looked around the classroom. There were a couple faces a bit disappointed at that last remark, but there were also these wicked grins forming. I felt my own as well - sure, I didn't love physics, but this was a good hands on puzzle, and it felt like we were doing something to help right a wrong.
"You should have about 60 minutes left before enough of you are missing from the next period that someone contacts the dean's office. Oh, and like any assignment, SHOW YOUR WORK on the chalkboard!" She laughed, but it was a dry, sad chuckle. Then the intercom cut off.
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The chair under me explodes and my lower half is torn to shreds. My classmates gather around me in horror as life leaves my shreded corpse. As my last breath escapes my lungs, I hear my professor say "just figured I'd go ahead and get this out of the way. He'd have never made it anyways."
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[WP] Telling a dog they're a 'good boy' resets their short fuse for destructive behavior.
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Daisy stared at all the destruction she had caused, and turned away. She had been in and out of various homes over the years, always destroying whatever she could. Most thought she could be trained out of it. They would spend hours with her, but never once did any of them say that word. Her brother, Max had been praised so often, with that amazing word. But she had never been told goodboy. No, she was always told goodgirl. Daisy didn't understand. She had been just like her brother, but she was never told goodboy. The older, experienced dog at the shelter had explained that humans said goodboy as praise. There was no mention of goodgirl, so Daisy didn't understand.
Eventually, Daisy grew tired of being like her brother with no reward, so she stopped trying. She became more destructive. Sometimes Max would join in, but then the humans would praise him and blame her. Finally, they sent her away and kept him. Ever since the loss of her brother, Daisy had nothing to control her destructive tendencies. She supposed that normal dogs would reset when told goodboy, but nobody ever said that to her. Until today.
This old man was also destructive. He had pushed many things over, and needed help to walk. She had come up to him in the park after yet another abandonment, wondering how easy it would be to destroy his shoes. The man had turned his head towards her, and said something to the human with him. Letmesit, he said. Daisy didn't understand, but then the man sat on a bench. She didn't know why, but she came up and put her nose in his hand to smell him. He smelled like Max.
Then he said it. He said goodboy. His human companion tried to say the other, goodgirl, but the man interrupted with that word again. Goodboy. Notagsmaybeheslost letslookfortheowner butiwanttokeephim, the man then said. Daisy didn't understand. The only words she understood were goodboy (meaning good dog) and goodgirl (meaning not good dog), so she was often confused.
She followed him as he wandered the park. He somehow found her previous owners somewhere in the park back along the path she had come from. The humans communicated, but Daisy didn't even try to understand. She was a goodboy! The human thought she was a goodboy! Then her owners left, but she stayed with the old man.
Suddenly, she smelled Max very strongly. And there he was! A boy ran up with Max, who was holding a ball in his mouth. Grandpagrandpa maxcaughttheball hessucha *goodboy* oohisthisanotherpuppy canwekeepher isshea *goodgirl*. Daisy understood that the boy said goodboy and goodgirl, but nothing else. That was ok. She had Max back! And the man thought she was a goodboy!
Daisy looked back on the destruction she had caused. But now she was a goodboy. She looked away, and calmly, nonviolently, followed the old man beside Max, with the little human following her. Finally, finally, she was a goodboy.
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I got home from work to find the contents of the dustbin scatted across the kitchen, a sofa shredded into pieces and the fridge door hanging off. The kids had made a nest of what was left of the cushions and were sat in front of the telly watching Spongebob, with Rufus the family Labrador sat between them, watching them eat crisps.
"Oh for fucks sake, Adam!! I told you, change the batteries in Alexa this morning before you leave for college!"
"Sorry dad, I guess I forgot."
I went to one of the cupboards that still had a door, pulled out a fresh packet of double AAs and grabbed Alexa off the sideboard.
"Rufus, roofie, who's a good boy! Yes, you're a good boy" she started spouting once the new batteries were in.
"Alexa, shut up." I said, "Adam, are you going to clear up that mess in the kicthen?"
"In a minute dad, Spongebob is almost finished!"
I groaned.
"Alexa, place an order on Amazon, one new fridge door".
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[WP] An alien soldier recounts his traumatic experiences from a failed invasion of Earth.
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I never understood why we had to go there. It was just a blue rock, the third planet from a little yellow star.
The planet was oddly beautiful, even if the very location was slightly too warm for our people. But the horrors the terrans unleashed on us..
“Captain, we have some more questions for you,” I opened my eyes and saw a woman just beyond her ceremony before me. Her amber eyes soft, comforting as she pulled me from my nightmares.
“What is it you would like to hear from an old man such as myself?”
“I just need you to tell me about the cataclysm of sol, for the record,” She stepped away, holding a holo-pad with her notes. It was another attempt at curing me of my troubles, those were burrowed into my skull along with the screams of my brethren who died in the fires.
“I was one of the reserve ships stationed outside of the asteroid belt by the iron planet that was fourth from sol. We were the mop up crew, just to provide support in the event of galactic intervention. The first wave had already made contact, the citadel ship had taken out what little orbital defenses they had. I was listening on the bridge of my ship when the first shots of the war in earnest were fired. We landed on the southern continent, a large island we thought we could use it as a forward base, and bring larger numbers in as needed and make it difficult to attack with an enemy who’s aerial ships were small 1-10 men interceptors and bombers.
“About a week into the campaign we had eliminated the terrans from the continent. The numbers on the continent were small but they were tough. That was when the first bomb fell on our citadel. 2 million soldiers turned to ash. The terrans had waited until all of there brethren were dead and then, they glassed us. We saw the flash from our outpost ahead, heard the cries of those who survived the initial blast and then were killed by the white star soldiers, I later learned that we had landed on a divided world but we had attacked one of the most peaceful people and it had enraged the planet. I moved my crew to the atmosphere to land troops and retaliate in the north west continent this time, the home of the white star forces.
“I instantly regretted it. Thousands of small ships swarmed us as we entered, we crashed deep in the southern swamps, we set up a distress beacon and bunkered down, around us we saw ship after ship downed by the terrans, and then we started losing soldiers on the ground. It seemed like every tree had an enemy behind it. The primitive slug guns they used tore through our armor, I watched my friends die tired in those swamps, and then I saw the enemy make it to our ship. I turned to activate the core to self destruct when I felt a burning pain in my chest and neck, the terran stood over me grinning, laughing the horrid laughter that they make as he called in more of his comrades. As i slipped from real life I awoke here, in the Hall of Memories, in pain and afraid.”
“Thank you captain, your testimony will be helpful in the negotiations with the galactic senate. Hopefully we can win them over before the terrans reach us,” she said gliding away as our females do.
“How close have the come to us?” I asked, genuinely afraid of the real death.
“Last night they glassed our defensive ring three systems away. The terrans have adapted to the technology on board your ship well in the last 100 cycles,”
I drifted back to the depths as the sirens blared.
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"Grandpa......"
"Grandpa...!"
"GRANDPA!"
Kulox shot up from his slumber in a cold sweat. Panting heavily, trying to take in his surroundings. Everything seemed familiar, but it didn't quite feel like home. Nothing ever felt like home these days. He stared out the window at the desolate landscape before him.
"GRANDPA!!!" the voice shouted again.
Grandpa? That's right. He was a grandpa. It all came flashing back to him. The hospitals, the churches, the laboring hours at work, the winter weekends huddled up on the couch in front of a bright flame, the war. Struggle, peacefulness, hopelessness, love.
"GRAND. PA!" another voice shouted.
"Alright, alright here I come..." Kulox muttered wistfully.
Kulox elongated his body and slid off the couch. He slowly dragged himself across the living room and up the stairs.
"Grandpa!" the two voices shouted in unison as he slumped his way through the bedroom door. It was Kili and Ren, his beautiful twin grandchildren. The immense love and bitter resentment he felt at the same time was often too much to handle. He blinked away a forming tear before strengthening his composure to look them in the eyes.
"Alright. What is it you kiddos need? A warm cup of hen's milk? A glass of carbon? What do you want?" Kulox questioned softly.
"Grandpa, will you tell us the story again?" Kili asked, batting her eyelashes.
"Story...." thought Kulox aloud. "What story?"
"You know! The one about your time in the war!" Ren exclaimed blissfully. "The one with all the Hoo-mans and the Woo-Hoo-mans!"
"Oh..." sighed Kulox. "That story...I don't know if you want to hear that old story again..."
"Yes we do!" They both chimed in. "Yes yes! Please? Please? Please? Please?"
Kulox sighed heavily. He would do anything for these kids. Anything. He would die for these kids. He had killed for these kids. And he would kill again if it meant their safety.
"Alright, well this was about 100 years ago on a different planet. The world you live in today is a much different world than it was. We had recently discovered how to reach other planets within our galaxy. I was part of the galactic investigative squad. Group #9. Our job was to explore planet SB-84792, or as the inhabitants of that planet called it 'Earth'"
"Earth! Earth! Earth!" Kili and Ren began chanting. "SB-84792! Earth! And who lived on Earth?!"
"The humans" Kulox replied
"Hoo-mans! And Woo-Hoo-mans!" The twins shouted with glee.
"Actually it's just humans." He responded. "Their race were called humans and they separated their sexes by men and women."
"Oh yeah! I remember that now!" Kili said hastily. "Humans. Men and women." She recited as if committing to memory, something she had done before but up until this point had not been successful.
"Okay, okay. Let me get back to the story. Now where was I...ah yes. Group #9 went to Earth and while our main goal was reconnaissance, we were given orders to destroy the planet if we were found out. We could not let them find our technology. As far as we knew, we were the only ones capable of space travel and we wanted it to remain that way."
"But that wasn't true was it Grandpa?!" Ren bounced with excitement.
"Sshhh you're ruining the story!" Whispered Kili.
"That's right, it wasn't true. Humans hadn't perfected space travel, but they were close. A boisterous species. They even had the audacity to send one of their land vehicles into orbit with a dead body as the pilot. Ugly. All of them. Inside and out. At least, that's what I thought. Until I met your grandmother. She was as beautiful as the Earth she lived on. There's this emotion called love on Earth. Some say you can't feel it unless you're on the planet, but I still feel it everyday. Earth changes you, for better or for worse. Your grandmother and I had the most wonderful time together. All of us in Group #9 found partners and abandoned our home planet's mission. The feeling of love was too strong for us to handle. We began new lives on Earth. We had kids and families and stayed in touch often. We scattered ourselves across the Earth on different continents so we could better hide from any search parties that may come looking for us. For some reason, the people on Earth didn't pay any special attention to us. It's like we were completely normal, despite looking drastically different from them. They accepted us and allowed us to live among them. It was almost as if we were becoming them. Weeks turned to months, months turned into years, years turned into decades. Your grandmother and I...We aged different. You see, humans age slightly faster. Your grandmother grew old and frail and your mother and I had to take care of her as she aged. After your grandmother passed away your mother met a man and moved in with him. She loved him dearly."
"But that wasn't daddy was it?" Ren asked calmly.
"Thats right. It wasn't. This was a bad man. A very bad man." Replied Kulox. "This man didn't agree with my origins. He believed in the human species being far superior to any other. They have a holiday called Christmas on Earth. It's a holiday where you spend time with family and give each other gifts. It was a magical holiday. But one Christmas, the bad man decided to out my existence to the world. He told the world leaders about me and Group #9. And as you may imagine, they didn't respond in the most positive manner. We were kidnapped and held in an underground prison unlike anything I had ever seen before. Clearly the world leaders had been hiding much of their technology from public knowledge because the technology found here far surpassed what I could even comprehend. This was when we found out that we looked just like them. At least, from their perspective. They couldn't tell the difference between us and a Human. This explained why we were welcomed so warmly. Everybody we met thought we were humans. They kept us locked up for years. They conducted experiment after experiment on us trying to figure out how we could possibly not be human. Trying to figure out what we were, who we were, where we came from. Then one day, suddenly out of nowhere I begin to feel a blistering pain in my ear and a high pitched ringing. It continued for days until one day it stopped. And just as suddenly as it came and went, the walls to the prison blew wide open."
"Yeah! This is the good part! All the action starts now!" Kili said grinning with excitement.
"War is never good Kili. Remember that. Nothing good can ever come of war. We were rescued by Group #7 and Group #3 who had finished their missions on their assigned planets. They told us that they had to destroy the other planets and decided it looked like they'd have to do the same to Earth. I pleaded with them not to but they wouldn't listen. I can understand why, they did find us locked up in chains. But I begged and begged them not to. I told them of love. I told them about my daughter. At the very least, they must spare her. Eventually I convinced them to allow us to all save our families and bring them back to our home planet. We picked up your mother first. She was reluctant, but after having been so betrayed by the man she loved she decided it was for the best to leave Earth and start off new somewhere else. Somewhere safer. Somewhere that wasn't about to be the battleground for the worst war in the history of the galaxy. After picking up our families, we headed to the nearby moon to watch the battle unfold. Ship after ship careening towards Earth. Each bigger than the last. But that's when the moon opened up and began shooting down all our ships. One by one they fell. How? How could this be? How much technology was being hidden from the public? This was nowhere near the level of any weapons found on Earth. No gun, tank, plane or bomb could even begin to compare to this. Not even in all of the science fiction on Earth could you find something as powerful or destructive as this. We were annihilated almost instantly. We ran. We ran as fast as we could. We ran to the ship and flew away in an instant. What we had seen with our own eyes was beyond comprehension."
"Hoo-mans sound super cool!" Shouted Ren. "I can't believe they were able to do all that and hide it all so well! It must be great to be Hoo-man!"
"Of course it is!" Exclaimed Kili. "That's why we're a quarter Hoo-man!"
.
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[WP] An alien soldier recounts his traumatic experiences from a failed invasion of Earth.
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"The humans were exceptionally advanced for a species that had yet to discover FTL. They had terraformed most of their solar system and had population centers on each of the terrestrial worlds and moons as well as the largest asteroids. Their ships were propelled by a remarkably effective hydrogen fuel mined from their comets, asteroids, and other celestial bodies. Despite the fact that there were no perceivable threats to their existence the humans had multiple massive battle-fleets.
At first, since there were no other races in their solar system we were utterly perplexed by this; but after a few decades of observation we realized that not only were they heavily armed, they were also battle-hardened. That mad race of fools were killing each other. As we watched we realized that there were three different factions each vying for power.
The inner planets fought against Earth and her colonies in the asteroid belt while Mars tried to conquer everyone, steadily increasing her power in the farther reaches of the solar system while stagnating against the Terran navy.
Our admiralty was practically giddy once we figured out how much these creatures fought each other. Sure, their fleets would be staffed with experienced officers and enlisted but the amount of time they spent fighting instead of innovating meant that our tech had to be vastly superior to theirs. They were still using ballistics for Zods sake. No shielding, only one solar system's worth of materials, a population that had no unity. Victory was all but guaranteed, and in return we would gain an intelligent, innovative slave race predisposed towards war. We could train them and unleash them on our enemies. Our leaders salivated.
We couldn't have known how good at war they were. No matter how much time we spent studying them, they were dormant while we watched; when we attacked, they awoke.
I was there for the first fleet battles, commanding the medical cruiser HSS Galtaron. We swarmed like a tide into the solar system, aiming for the shipyards at Ganymede, Rhea, Ceres, Luna, and the Mercurial Station. Once we destroyed their production centers we would menace their planets, destroying a few if needed to get them to surrender. Standard procedure.
We hit the Martian controlled Ganymede first, our fleets skipping past the far flung outer planets. The largest Martian fleet was engaged in a pitched battle against the Terran fleet near Ceres as the outer human colonies tried to steal power from their homeland. Word traveled insanely fast from Ganymede, even as we destroyed their shipyards somehow they got word to their fleet; and the Martians were able to conclude a quick treaty with their erstwhile foes. Their fleet broke off combat immediately and burned fastlike towards Rhea.
Our entire armada met the Martian fleet in the space surrounding Rhea. The rings of Saturn played a beautiful backdrop to the silent destruction that our ships laid on the Martians. Our lasers tore through their armor, our shields absorbed their missles, our torpedos cracked their battleships, we annihilated them; and then we destroyed Rhea.
Ceres was at the other end of the solar system, so we skipped it, heading straight towards Luna, and Earth. We thought that maybe if we took their homeworld they would surrender. They had less than a month to prepare for our coming, yet by the time we arrived to attack Luna we were facing the combined fleets from Earth and the Inner Worlds, as well as the survivors from Rhea. We did not think of the secondary fleet left behind on Mars, or Ceres, or the billions of private human ships outfitted with small arms.
Like every other space conflict we began by destroying the human fleet, but then we discovered why the Inner Planets had managed to remain independent despite their lower population and resources. Their ships were designed with huge batteries and solar arrays that gathered and stored the energy from their close proximity to the sun. These energy reserves were massive, and allowed their ships to unleash titanic blasts of unadulterated electricity by dumping their reserves into anything within range. The conventional Terran and Martian fleets charged in aggressively towards our ships, confusing our leadership. After all, why would THEY charge US? As their fleets disintegrated, the until that moment hidden Inner fleet swarmed close and released their stored energy. Our shields flickered and faded, the outer layers of our hulls crackled with energy, everyone on the top decks died twitching. Our power grids couldn't handle the overload and our life support systems began to fail. One by one every single ship affected began to list, collisions between capital ships led to a chain effect of explosions and further collisions. From my position at the rear of the fleet I watched our Armada crumple.
Their main fleet had charged into our center line, splitting us in two, and when their trap sprang our middle ranks disintegrated; but our flanks remained intact. Our remaining ships converged on the nearly annihilated human fleet, a pyrrhic victory in sight. Our remaining officers were like hunters that smelled blood, eager to finish off these wild and dangerous foes. That's when the Martian reserves arrived.
A positively staggeringly huge fleet came rocketing in behind us, swarming us in craft of every size and armament. There were small freight carriers that unloaded massive payloads of fuel around our capital ships, with little bug sized personal shuttles that had hastily cobbled together cannons to blow that fuel up. Our ships were engulfed in explosions that overloaded our shields even as our armor barely registered a hit. Then the Martian warships plunged into the fray, slamming into our ships and ripping through their armor.
Our fleet had no where to run, no way to escape. The captain of the Roxolani gathered the hospital squadron and pulled us away, but there were so many human ships. They blocked our path and we had to smash our way through them. Our shields kept us safe as we ran over thousands of civilian ships that just kept trying to stop us. I watched in horror as the Roxolani's shields flickered, faded, and their ships began pelting its engines, its bridge, and any other essential systems. They died by the millions, voluntarily, recklessly, just to keep us from escaping. It was the single most horrific, and impressive thing I have ever seen.
Only three of our ships escaped, and they followed us to the edge of the solar system. We only really became safe once we jumped to FTL. Zod help us if they get their hands on a working FTL drive."
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"Grandpa......"
"Grandpa...!"
"GRANDPA!"
Kulox shot up from his slumber in a cold sweat. Panting heavily, trying to take in his surroundings. Everything seemed familiar, but it didn't quite feel like home. Nothing ever felt like home these days. He stared out the window at the desolate landscape before him.
"GRANDPA!!!" the voice shouted again.
Grandpa? That's right. He was a grandpa. It all came flashing back to him. The hospitals, the churches, the laboring hours at work, the winter weekends huddled up on the couch in front of a bright flame, the war. Struggle, peacefulness, hopelessness, love.
"GRAND. PA!" another voice shouted.
"Alright, alright here I come..." Kulox muttered wistfully.
Kulox elongated his body and slid off the couch. He slowly dragged himself across the living room and up the stairs.
"Grandpa!" the two voices shouted in unison as he slumped his way through the bedroom door. It was Kili and Ren, his beautiful twin grandchildren. The immense love and bitter resentment he felt at the same time was often too much to handle. He blinked away a forming tear before strengthening his composure to look them in the eyes.
"Alright. What is it you kiddos need? A warm cup of hen's milk? A glass of carbon? What do you want?" Kulox questioned softly.
"Grandpa, will you tell us the story again?" Kili asked, batting her eyelashes.
"Story...." thought Kulox aloud. "What story?"
"You know! The one about your time in the war!" Ren exclaimed blissfully. "The one with all the Hoo-mans and the Woo-Hoo-mans!"
"Oh..." sighed Kulox. "That story...I don't know if you want to hear that old story again..."
"Yes we do!" They both chimed in. "Yes yes! Please? Please? Please? Please?"
Kulox sighed heavily. He would do anything for these kids. Anything. He would die for these kids. He had killed for these kids. And he would kill again if it meant their safety.
"Alright, well this was about 100 years ago on a different planet. The world you live in today is a much different world than it was. We had recently discovered how to reach other planets within our galaxy. I was part of the galactic investigative squad. Group #9. Our job was to explore planet SB-84792, or as the inhabitants of that planet called it 'Earth'"
"Earth! Earth! Earth!" Kili and Ren began chanting. "SB-84792! Earth! And who lived on Earth?!"
"The humans" Kulox replied
"Hoo-mans! And Woo-Hoo-mans!" The twins shouted with glee.
"Actually it's just humans." He responded. "Their race were called humans and they separated their sexes by men and women."
"Oh yeah! I remember that now!" Kili said hastily. "Humans. Men and women." She recited as if committing to memory, something she had done before but up until this point had not been successful.
"Okay, okay. Let me get back to the story. Now where was I...ah yes. Group #9 went to Earth and while our main goal was reconnaissance, we were given orders to destroy the planet if we were found out. We could not let them find our technology. As far as we knew, we were the only ones capable of space travel and we wanted it to remain that way."
"But that wasn't true was it Grandpa?!" Ren bounced with excitement.
"Sshhh you're ruining the story!" Whispered Kili.
"That's right, it wasn't true. Humans hadn't perfected space travel, but they were close. A boisterous species. They even had the audacity to send one of their land vehicles into orbit with a dead body as the pilot. Ugly. All of them. Inside and out. At least, that's what I thought. Until I met your grandmother. She was as beautiful as the Earth she lived on. There's this emotion called love on Earth. Some say you can't feel it unless you're on the planet, but I still feel it everyday. Earth changes you, for better or for worse. Your grandmother and I had the most wonderful time together. All of us in Group #9 found partners and abandoned our home planet's mission. The feeling of love was too strong for us to handle. We began new lives on Earth. We had kids and families and stayed in touch often. We scattered ourselves across the Earth on different continents so we could better hide from any search parties that may come looking for us. For some reason, the people on Earth didn't pay any special attention to us. It's like we were completely normal, despite looking drastically different from them. They accepted us and allowed us to live among them. It was almost as if we were becoming them. Weeks turned to months, months turned into years, years turned into decades. Your grandmother and I...We aged different. You see, humans age slightly faster. Your grandmother grew old and frail and your mother and I had to take care of her as she aged. After your grandmother passed away your mother met a man and moved in with him. She loved him dearly."
"But that wasn't daddy was it?" Ren asked calmly.
"Thats right. It wasn't. This was a bad man. A very bad man." Replied Kulox. "This man didn't agree with my origins. He believed in the human species being far superior to any other. They have a holiday called Christmas on Earth. It's a holiday where you spend time with family and give each other gifts. It was a magical holiday. But one Christmas, the bad man decided to out my existence to the world. He told the world leaders about me and Group #9. And as you may imagine, they didn't respond in the most positive manner. We were kidnapped and held in an underground prison unlike anything I had ever seen before. Clearly the world leaders had been hiding much of their technology from public knowledge because the technology found here far surpassed what I could even comprehend. This was when we found out that we looked just like them. At least, from their perspective. They couldn't tell the difference between us and a Human. This explained why we were welcomed so warmly. Everybody we met thought we were humans. They kept us locked up for years. They conducted experiment after experiment on us trying to figure out how we could possibly not be human. Trying to figure out what we were, who we were, where we came from. Then one day, suddenly out of nowhere I begin to feel a blistering pain in my ear and a high pitched ringing. It continued for days until one day it stopped. And just as suddenly as it came and went, the walls to the prison blew wide open."
"Yeah! This is the good part! All the action starts now!" Kili said grinning with excitement.
"War is never good Kili. Remember that. Nothing good can ever come of war. We were rescued by Group #7 and Group #3 who had finished their missions on their assigned planets. They told us that they had to destroy the other planets and decided it looked like they'd have to do the same to Earth. I pleaded with them not to but they wouldn't listen. I can understand why, they did find us locked up in chains. But I begged and begged them not to. I told them of love. I told them about my daughter. At the very least, they must spare her. Eventually I convinced them to allow us to all save our families and bring them back to our home planet. We picked up your mother first. She was reluctant, but after having been so betrayed by the man she loved she decided it was for the best to leave Earth and start off new somewhere else. Somewhere safer. Somewhere that wasn't about to be the battleground for the worst war in the history of the galaxy. After picking up our families, we headed to the nearby moon to watch the battle unfold. Ship after ship careening towards Earth. Each bigger than the last. But that's when the moon opened up and began shooting down all our ships. One by one they fell. How? How could this be? How much technology was being hidden from the public? This was nowhere near the level of any weapons found on Earth. No gun, tank, plane or bomb could even begin to compare to this. Not even in all of the science fiction on Earth could you find something as powerful or destructive as this. We were annihilated almost instantly. We ran. We ran as fast as we could. We ran to the ship and flew away in an instant. What we had seen with our own eyes was beyond comprehension."
"Hoo-mans sound super cool!" Shouted Ren. "I can't believe they were able to do all that and hide it all so well! It must be great to be Hoo-man!"
"Of course it is!" Exclaimed Kili. "That's why we're a quarter Hoo-man!"
.
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[WP] An alien soldier recounts his traumatic experiences from a failed invasion of Earth.
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"The humans were exceptionally advanced for a species that had yet to discover FTL. They had terraformed most of their solar system and had population centers on each of the terrestrial worlds and moons as well as the largest asteroids. Their ships were propelled by a remarkably effective hydrogen fuel mined from their comets, asteroids, and other celestial bodies. Despite the fact that there were no perceivable threats to their existence the humans had multiple massive battle-fleets.
At first, since there were no other races in their solar system we were utterly perplexed by this; but after a few decades of observation we realized that not only were they heavily armed, they were also battle-hardened. That mad race of fools were killing each other. As we watched we realized that there were three different factions each vying for power.
The inner planets fought against Earth and her colonies in the asteroid belt while Mars tried to conquer everyone, steadily increasing her power in the farther reaches of the solar system while stagnating against the Terran navy.
Our admiralty was practically giddy once we figured out how much these creatures fought each other. Sure, their fleets would be staffed with experienced officers and enlisted but the amount of time they spent fighting instead of innovating meant that our tech had to be vastly superior to theirs. They were still using ballistics for Zods sake. No shielding, only one solar system's worth of materials, a population that had no unity. Victory was all but guaranteed, and in return we would gain an intelligent, innovative slave race predisposed towards war. We could train them and unleash them on our enemies. Our leaders salivated.
We couldn't have known how good at war they were. No matter how much time we spent studying them, they were dormant while we watched; when we attacked, they awoke.
I was there for the first fleet battles, commanding the medical cruiser HSS Galtaron. We swarmed like a tide into the solar system, aiming for the shipyards at Ganymede, Rhea, Ceres, Luna, and the Mercurial Station. Once we destroyed their production centers we would menace their planets, destroying a few if needed to get them to surrender. Standard procedure.
We hit the Martian controlled Ganymede first, our fleets skipping past the far flung outer planets. The largest Martian fleet was engaged in a pitched battle against the Terran fleet near Ceres as the outer human colonies tried to steal power from their homeland. Word traveled insanely fast from Ganymede, even as we destroyed their shipyards somehow they got word to their fleet; and the Martians were able to conclude a quick treaty with their erstwhile foes. Their fleet broke off combat immediately and burned fastlike towards Rhea.
Our entire armada met the Martian fleet in the space surrounding Rhea. The rings of Saturn played a beautiful backdrop to the silent destruction that our ships laid on the Martians. Our lasers tore through their armor, our shields absorbed their missles, our torpedos cracked their battleships, we annihilated them; and then we destroyed Rhea.
Ceres was at the other end of the solar system, so we skipped it, heading straight towards Luna, and Earth. We thought that maybe if we took their homeworld they would surrender. They had less than a month to prepare for our coming, yet by the time we arrived to attack Luna we were facing the combined fleets from Earth and the Inner Worlds, as well as the survivors from Rhea. We did not think of the secondary fleet left behind on Mars, or Ceres, or the billions of private human ships outfitted with small arms.
Like every other space conflict we began by destroying the human fleet, but then we discovered why the Inner Planets had managed to remain independent despite their lower population and resources. Their ships were designed with huge batteries and solar arrays that gathered and stored the energy from their close proximity to the sun. These energy reserves were massive, and allowed their ships to unleash titanic blasts of unadulterated electricity by dumping their reserves into anything within range. The conventional Terran and Martian fleets charged in aggressively towards our ships, confusing our leadership. After all, why would THEY charge US? As their fleets disintegrated, the until that moment hidden Inner fleet swarmed close and released their stored energy. Our shields flickered and faded, the outer layers of our hulls crackled with energy, everyone on the top decks died twitching. Our power grids couldn't handle the overload and our life support systems began to fail. One by one every single ship affected began to list, collisions between capital ships led to a chain effect of explosions and further collisions. From my position at the rear of the fleet I watched our Armada crumple.
Their main fleet had charged into our center line, splitting us in two, and when their trap sprang our middle ranks disintegrated; but our flanks remained intact. Our remaining ships converged on the nearly annihilated human fleet, a pyrrhic victory in sight. Our remaining officers were like hunters that smelled blood, eager to finish off these wild and dangerous foes. That's when the Martian reserves arrived.
A positively staggeringly huge fleet came rocketing in behind us, swarming us in craft of every size and armament. There were small freight carriers that unloaded massive payloads of fuel around our capital ships, with little bug sized personal shuttles that had hastily cobbled together cannons to blow that fuel up. Our ships were engulfed in explosions that overloaded our shields even as our armor barely registered a hit. Then the Martian warships plunged into the fray, slamming into our ships and ripping through their armor.
Our fleet had no where to run, no way to escape. The captain of the Roxolani gathered the hospital squadron and pulled us away, but there were so many human ships. They blocked our path and we had to smash our way through them. Our shields kept us safe as we ran over thousands of civilian ships that just kept trying to stop us. I watched in horror as the Roxolani's shields flickered, faded, and their ships began pelting its engines, its bridge, and any other essential systems. They died by the millions, voluntarily, recklessly, just to keep us from escaping. It was the single most horrific, and impressive thing I have ever seen.
Only three of our ships escaped, and they followed us to the edge of the solar system. We only really became safe once we jumped to FTL. Zod help us if they get their hands on a working FTL drive."
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I never understood why we had to go there. It was just a blue rock, the third planet from a little yellow star.
The planet was oddly beautiful, even if the very location was slightly too warm for our people. But the horrors the terrans unleashed on us..
“Captain, we have some more questions for you,” I opened my eyes and saw a woman just beyond her ceremony before me. Her amber eyes soft, comforting as she pulled me from my nightmares.
“What is it you would like to hear from an old man such as myself?”
“I just need you to tell me about the cataclysm of sol, for the record,” She stepped away, holding a holo-pad with her notes. It was another attempt at curing me of my troubles, those were burrowed into my skull along with the screams of my brethren who died in the fires.
“I was one of the reserve ships stationed outside of the asteroid belt by the iron planet that was fourth from sol. We were the mop up crew, just to provide support in the event of galactic intervention. The first wave had already made contact, the citadel ship had taken out what little orbital defenses they had. I was listening on the bridge of my ship when the first shots of the war in earnest were fired. We landed on the southern continent, a large island we thought we could use it as a forward base, and bring larger numbers in as needed and make it difficult to attack with an enemy who’s aerial ships were small 1-10 men interceptors and bombers.
“About a week into the campaign we had eliminated the terrans from the continent. The numbers on the continent were small but they were tough. That was when the first bomb fell on our citadel. 2 million soldiers turned to ash. The terrans had waited until all of there brethren were dead and then, they glassed us. We saw the flash from our outpost ahead, heard the cries of those who survived the initial blast and then were killed by the white star soldiers, I later learned that we had landed on a divided world but we had attacked one of the most peaceful people and it had enraged the planet. I moved my crew to the atmosphere to land troops and retaliate in the north west continent this time, the home of the white star forces.
“I instantly regretted it. Thousands of small ships swarmed us as we entered, we crashed deep in the southern swamps, we set up a distress beacon and bunkered down, around us we saw ship after ship downed by the terrans, and then we started losing soldiers on the ground. It seemed like every tree had an enemy behind it. The primitive slug guns they used tore through our armor, I watched my friends die tired in those swamps, and then I saw the enemy make it to our ship. I turned to activate the core to self destruct when I felt a burning pain in my chest and neck, the terran stood over me grinning, laughing the horrid laughter that they make as he called in more of his comrades. As i slipped from real life I awoke here, in the Hall of Memories, in pain and afraid.”
“Thank you captain, your testimony will be helpful in the negotiations with the galactic senate. Hopefully we can win them over before the terrans reach us,” she said gliding away as our females do.
“How close have the come to us?” I asked, genuinely afraid of the real death.
“Last night they glassed our defensive ring three systems away. The terrans have adapted to the technology on board your ship well in the last 100 cycles,”
I drifted back to the depths as the sirens blared.
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[WP] Everybody wants to go to Heaven. Satan discusses strategy with a new marketing team to make people want to come to Hell instead.
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I swallowed hard as the call came in. Satan had demanded his crack marketing team come up to the 666th floor to discuss something of vital importance regarding the current state of hell. I quickly paced to the elevator running into Steve and Maggie along the way.
"So how bad do you think it is?", asked Maggie.
"Must be something if he's just dropping it out of the blue on us", I stated. I was right of course. Satan never demanded much out of us, only that we keep up with the current trends of sin and deployed propaganda accordingly.
"Ah it won't be that bad", said Steve. "You know how the big guy gets. The world starts going to shit and everyone starts praying to the big guy again".
I always never liked Steve. He never took this job seriously. You know for the a guy that had robbed the elderly blind in his previously life, he always seemed to lackadaisical. The only reason Satan even tolerated him, was Steve's ability to not give a shit about anyone. The guy had no morals when it came to who he screwed over.
The heat rose as the elevator reached the 666th floor. Monica awaited us outside of Satan's door.
"He is ready for you now" she said with that wicked smile of hers. "Good luck".
We hurried through the pitch black doors and into the conference room. The place always gave me the creeps. Satan had designed it to give him the highest view of Hell. He had a wall completely made of glass to view over his domain. From here you could almost see the nine circles of hell.
No sooner than we sat down, than Satan swung around in his chair.
"Team. We have a problem" he stated. "People are just not interested in appeasing me anymore. Everyone always wants to confess their sins and accept God into their hearts". He used to hands to emphasis "confess" and "accept". "Hell, no pun intended" he smirked "but I can't even get my acolytes on Earth to even convince people to come here like they once did. I mean Is this place really that bad?". He stood up and looked out onto Hell.
"I mean look at this place. It's basically a paradise for those lost in sin. I have people living their wildest and darkest dream down here. Some are lost in vast pools of wealth, some murder without consequence, vast feasts and orgies every night and day. What does Heaven possible have that I don't?" He sighed and walked back over. This was a first for me. I had never seemed the big guy so glum. He was right, however, people lining up to go to Hell had gone down in a steady supply. People's thought on Hell was a bit overzealous. When people thought of Hell, they imagined burning lakes of fire, torture, and damnation for all eternity. What they didn't realize was Satan had basically turn Hell into a do whatever the hell you want type of society.
I look over at Maggie. She had the same expression I did. Confused that Satan was taking this so personally. Further down I glanced at Steve. Steve wasn't giving two shits about Satan's problem. He leaned back on hand, elbow propped on the table staring off into space. Seriously the nerve of the guy.
Satan suddenly slammed his hands on the table, fire burning in his eye.
"Damn it all, I need suggestions, NOW!".
I quickly piped up "Maybe we could adjust our algorithms to Earth. Convince people that what they think here isn't what they think in their head, people don't see this place for the paradise it really is".
Maggie quickly took over "Perhaps we shift blame to the Gods side of the field. Have you seen how bad some people use his name for their beliefs? You have people already fighting on exactly what he stands for".
Steve let out a yawn and looked at Satan. "Perhaps you can stop being such a dick."
Maggie and I froze in our chairs. I took one look at Satan and saw brimstone leaking through every pore in his body. Steve had done it now. After a few seconds Satan maintained his composure and walked over to the phone.
"Monica?"
"Yes sir?"
"Could you please put in a request for a new marketing consultant? I'm in need of a spare".
"Right away sir".
I barely felt the heat pass my face before I realize Steve was out of his chair and tossed through the window. For good measure Satan set Steve on fire as he started falling. I felt an evil smile creep along my face. Steve was always a dick anyways.
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Hell is a conference room. Nobody knows that. Not until you're sitting next to Ted Bundy from marketing slurping on a Styrofoam cup of Sams Club coffee. Every slurp asks who needs coffee under the bright, burning glare of a fluorescent bulb. Hellfire was supposed to be actual fire I thought. I thought there would be screams of sinners too, but the only scream is the constant low digital ring of a telephone. On the line always a caller who could have emailed but wants to talk instead.
"AHEM!"
I guess I was staring off again. Eva Braun notices everything. Her throat clears may as well be 1,000 fingernails scraping across a chalkboard. I look up to see her eyes staring right at me, lips pursed so tight they look like an asshole. She's the Executive Assistant now. Promoted from HR. She handed me my handbook the day I arrived. Welcome to Hell written on the cover in Tacoma. It was also the day I received her first "AHEM" over my slightly loosened tie.
Attila the Hun was doing his usual pace and talk in front of a Powerpoint screen. He's in my division and although technically we are equivalents, he flexes every minuscule amount of power he has. It's insecurity if you ask me. He had one successful idea and he has been riding that wave ever since. I don't even have to pay attention to know that the last 5 minutes, as well as the next 5 minutes will be about guns. Attila presses his hand held clicker and just as a fart predicates a shit, a picture of an assault rifle fills the screen. Audible "hmm's" are heard around the room. I scan each face as my eyes follows theirs to the end of the table.
Satan sits there staring straight ahead. His chin resting on his hand with two fingers up embracing his face, his other arm supporting the base of his elbow as he slinks as far back in his chair as possible. One could say he looks bored, but that is always his face and he certainly is anything but apathetic.
"There's some new angles here, I will give you that" - Satan says to an Attila smiling like a dog that just got his prick licked at the first sign of his approval - "but we need to start looking at new markets, younger markets." Attila nods as his dopey face gets serious. The room is silent. Satan leans forward, the sound of his chair squeaks with release. "I'm giving you all another 24 hours," he says staring straight ahead as he stands up, prompting the entire room to stand as well. "No more of this low fat churned horseshit. Millennial's aren't eating horseshit." With that, he left as Eva follows behind, her arms wrapped around a legal pad like it's the only thing to have ever wanted a hug from her.
I walk back to my cubicle, which really could be described as home. It is the most private place for me in Hell since the shitter stalls are so high, with door cracks so large they barely serve a purpose. My cubicle is just large enough for one desk and one chair. Its mandatory to personalize the space. The mandatory part is to take away any sense of control one would want to have in the task of personalizing something. Photos of my wife and daughter are in tiny frames against the cubicle wall. They're the same photos I had on my desk before Hell. Truth is I look at them more now. Every time in fact. I never looked at them with purpose before, just in passing. The other personalized item is a mug in the shape of a golf bag. It was a gift for my first soul conversion. I have not gotten any gifts since.
I slump into my chair. An uncomfortable displaced support bar protrudes just enough into my back to always notice it. I stare into my off computer screen, back to the place I was in the conference room before Eva interrupted.
"Ahem," this time the throat clearing is gentle and welcomed. I quickly look over to see Neda standing there. She never smiles, well nobody smiles in Hell, but the slight pull on the tips of her eyes are the best part of my day every time. "Hard at work?" She asks sarcastically.
Neda doesn't belong here. That needs to be said. Neda is part of a group of people in Hell, who ended up here thinking they did the right thing. That statement can be ambiguous in Hell. Pol Pot who now runs the entire IT division thinks he did the right thing. Neda is here because she did the right thing against someone like Pol Pot. She did it with C4 strapped to her chest, but she did it hungry, she did it scared, she did it because she was forgotten by the world. She still did it and it was enough to get her to a copy editor position in Hell.
"I am working about as hard as this chair is. You wanna help?" I said walking to meet her eyes as close as I could.
"Let's have a walk and talk?" Neda used just enough inflection in her voice to clarify just how much she hated that phrase.
"Just had this big meeting," I said as we both walked down the hall, side by side, past beige cubicle after beige cubicle. "Satan wants younger interest in Hell. We're going in circles. Attila is stuck on guns again. Witchcraft hasn't worked since the 90's. Money was good for awhile."
"It's why you're here!" Neda cut in.
I brushed it off with a raised eyebrow. "Money was working til just a few assholes took it all. It's lost its luster for the young ones."
"It never worked for me." Neda says locking eyes with me.
"Yeah well you never had the chance." This is how we always talk now. Somewhere between a flirtation and an argument.
Neda's eyes sink. "Well you know what worked for me."
I stopped for a moment. I took her statement in. I knew she didn't say it to give me any ideas. I knew she didn't want this idea to reach Satan 24 hours from now at the same conference room table under that same burning fluorescent fucking light. But it was too late. She put it there in my head and now I couldn't escape it. I could get the whole golf course this time.
"Thanks for the chat." I said as I turned around to walk back to my desk.
With a long pause, Neda watched me. "Anytime" she said under her breath.
My hell was a conference room in 24 hours. Her hell was her truth. Either way we were in Hell together, maybe that was the only truth that mattered.
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[WP] This version of Earth is a wash. The angels have held a lottery and you have been chosen to end the world. You are given any resource you need; magic, technology, rEality alteration. Whether it’s wholesale destruction of the planet or just the death of all sentient life is up to you. “Have fun”
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**What?**
The three angels gawked in unison, their luminance of their bodies swirling in confusion as their beating of their downy white wings became slightly more frantic. A normal human wouldn’t have been able to look directly at them without going blind. After having woven computer technology, strange DNA and magic through my body I couldn’t reasonably be considered human anymore, or so I hoped, as I waited the long microseconds then angels took to formulate a reply.
**You said you would destroy the world of man, E1invar! Your oath yet binds you.**
I couldn’t help but laugh “Oh man, If I’d said that it would have been even easier to find loopholes in the Geas you put on me.” I tapped a long slender finger on my flawless jawline. Yea okay, I’d gone a little overboard when I realized I could change my appearance however I wanted, so sue me.
“What I actually said six months ago was that I would cause the extinction of the species homo sapiens and would leave not one of their works as they had placed them. I already did that.”
**That is it?** asked Balahim, who was doing his best impression of Marvin the Marian asking where the Ka-boom was, and it was hard not to laugh.
**Fool, their planes still fly, their buildings are still intact, and most critically all the humans still live! What manner of deception do you think you’re attempting?** Cassigan was fuming, literal smoke rising from his body, and Aliph was stunned as they checked a long scroll and said **The Geas has been fulfilled, though I know not how...**
**Explain!** the angels demanded, and I was all to happy to.
“I did exactly what I promised I’d do, but without ending a single sentient life.
You see, it came down to two parts; end humanity and topple all their works. The first one was pretty difficult; however, I had the room I needed by using the scientific term, homo sapiens. I had to alter the genome of every human being such that they would longer be reproductively compatible with pervious humans. Even after enhancing my mind I couldn’t figure out how to do this elegantly, so I modified the shape of everyone’s sex cells a little so they wouldn’t interact with old humanity’s anymore, but still interact with new humanity’s. I fixed a few other things while I was at it too; women should have an easier time climaxing, men will have more stamina, I fixed that blind spot where out optic nerve is in front of our retina, in young people and future generations anyway… Oh and cancer’s gone. That’s a big one.
I designed a retrovirus to released it a couple of moths ago, making sure to spray isolated areas via aircraft. I guess you wouldn’t have noticed, but the scientific community has been losing their collective minds about it for over a month now!”
The angels were still gawking at me so I continued.
**You said you would destroy their works!** Balahim protested weakly.
“That was a lot easier by comparison. I said. You know, the spell books you gave me included a lot of *really* powerful spells, including one which could *draw energy directly from the sun*! I mean I know you were trying to end the world, but you don’t feel like that’s a little overkill? Anyway I’ve been using spell for a while now, I figure I’ve bottled up about the mass-energy of Mars. Astrophysicists won’t notice anything’s weird for a while, but radii of rotation of all the orbits around the sun have slightly changed, meaning I’ve moved everything humanity has ever built some fraction of an inch form where they put it. Mission accomplished.”
I sat their in smug silence for a moment, as I waited for the other shoe to drop.
**Wait, you could not have used so much energy and not destroyed the world… where did you put it all?**
“Ah, see, now you’re thinking!” I exclaimed, beaming at them.
The so-called angels glared back. I could tell at least Cass wanted to try and kill me, but I’d placed too many wards around myself for him to be able to get at me without being torn to shreds.
**Where!?** they demanded again.
“I bunched it into a black hole trapped in a quasi-stable dimensional Kline bottle somewhere dimensionally transcendental from here… in other words in your backyard. And tenuously stable it will remain, as long you all stop trying to eradicate other sapient species.” I gave them my sweetest smile as the equivalents of shock, fear and outrage played on their luminous forms. “I’m going to banish you from this plane of existence now, tell whoever you work for that any further incursions into this reality without permission will be considered an act of war, and will be treated appropriately. Have a nice day!”
As I waved goodbye to them as they were transported far away from my universe, but all my victory and smugness was shattered by a single hissed curse from one of the departing beings.
***Lawyers.***
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There they are. A massive collection of massive rockets, each 15 miles high, and a mile wide. On board is every human still on earth and the resources to sustain them on Mars for three years. I was told Earth needs a reset, but that doesn’t mean mankind does. I’d sooner die than kill every human, though for the sake of being thorough I suppose I’d have to. I’ve given them food, fusion reactors, construction equipment, habitats, enough material for thousands upon thousands of square miles of solar panels and wind turbines once they get there. And anything else they might need.
The exhaust force of 11734 of these behemoths launching simultaneously should leave anything left on this continent scorched and ruined. It already worked for North and South America, Africa, and Eurasia. It’s now time for Australia to leave. Liftoff is in ten minutes. I’m staying behind in an underground bunker, with my own private spacecraft. Once everyone else is gone I’ll crash the moon into the earth for good measure. Plus it’ll be a wondrous sight to behold. I’ve been slowly making the moon fall closer and closer to the earth on each orbit. It helped convince everyone to abandon the earth if they thought it would be destroyed anyways.
...T-minus 10 seconds to launch. ...T-minus 5
... even hear, a mile underground I can feel the ground shaking and hear the roar of millions of engines starting. 3... 2... 1.... liftoff. My cave is getting hot. My ears are filled with the booming roaring howl of nearly 12000 rockets shoving hot gases out their rear end. They’ll fly in formation through the atmosphere and burn their way into orbit, then towards mars over the next 15 minutes. A few minutes from now their expended first stages will all fall into the Pacific Ocean. It’ll be doom and gloom for any fish those fiery hunks of metal fall upon. But that’s ok. Where we’re going we won’t need fish.
Right then, now it’s my turn. I clambered into my spacecraft, set atop a recreation of the N1 made with more reliable modern technology. I programmed a launch profile that would send me towards mars. I’ve been preparing for this moment for months. It’s time.
As I lifted off through a tunnel from my underground bunker and finally reached the surface I looked around and saw the utter destruction that had been forced upon this part of the world. The surface was black with soot and scorch marks. Not a single tree nor blade of grass was left standing. I saw a massive tidal wave hitting the coast as a result of millions of tons of metal slamming into the pacific. As I was in orbit I called the moon in for its final approach with the earth, just before performing my transmars injection burn. I was about 15000 miles away from the Earth when the moon hit. The whole atmosphere glowed with an orange red light as the moon slammed into the surface. Bits of rock spewed out into deep space, many of them larger than a mountain. So much destructive power had a very surreal feeling. I vowed never to use it again.
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[WP] This version of Earth is a wash. The angels have held a lottery and you have been chosen to end the world. You are given any resource you need; magic, technology, rEality alteration. Whether it’s wholesale destruction of the planet or just the death of all sentient life is up to you. “Have fun”
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For a brief moment, she was God sitting in judgment. Her consciousness encircled the planet. She could see into the hearts and minds of every human on Earth. In the darkness around her were glowing green sets of eyes.
The beings that came to her had given her the power to change things. They told her that the Earth was corrupted, broken. The best choice was to destroy it all and start over. They said they were angels, but total destruction didn’t sound like something coming from the side of Good.
She wanted more time to think, but she could feel the impatience coming from the eyes. The “angels”.
“I’ll let them destroy themselves.” She could feel the approval of the angels. Inside, she hoped they would master the power she gave them.
Inside the minds of every human on the planet appeared a simple formula. Three interlocking arcs, like footballs with the points merged into each other. In the center of the three arcs was another symbol. It meant “Move”.
In addition to the formula, she also gave humans the ability to sense life around them and their own lives. They could tell how long someone had lived, and they could sense how long they would have left. The sense had no range limit, but anything past a few hundred feet faded into a quiet buzz.
The first of the humans finished drawing the symbol. They glanced around the room, not sure what they had expected to happen. As soon as “the other side of the room” entered their mind, they vanished and reappeared there. Smoke rose from the symbol. The ink the human had used was evaporating from the paper.
The human’s eyes lit up, and they immediately began thinking of applications. They could get rid of their car. They were still clothed, so you could take things with you. Vacations would be amazing - they could walk the black sand beaches of Iceland and sleep in their own bed the same night. They could steal the world’s priceless treasures and never be caught.
Greed. She watched in disappointment.
All around the world, humans in every language were thinking similar things. They could live anywhere and the costs of commuting would be nonexistent. Teleporting armies would re-invent war. Teleporting terrorists would destroy the idea of safe borders. Some had already launched surprise attacks, seizing the moment.
Wrath.
As thousands of people tested out their new abilities, the distant buzz of other lives grew softer. The first human to use the spell watched their hair turn gray. Power came with costs. The cost for this power was a single year from someone else’s life with every use. After a few minutes, every human was aware of the costs, and that if they kept going, people would die. Regardless,each of them thought “Just one exception for me. What I’m doing is most important.
Pride. Life drained out of them. All of them, slowly enough that they kept ignoring it.
Time passed, and new norms settled. The angel’s chosen hung in the void over the world, continuing to watch.
Some users were doing important things. Soldiers waited on standby, ready to counter guerilla strikes. Other users teleported massive amounts of food and medicine to disaster areas, saving more life than they spent. Those caught in dangerous situations, lost in the wilderness or in burning buildings, justifiably used the power to save themselves.
A few were the opposite, offensively casual with the use of their power. They teleported to the kitchen and back to their room instead of walking downstairs.
Sloth.
The drain was faster now. Each jump took more energy, and those in power noticed the abuse of power affecting them.
Countries signed treaties. Borders meant less now, but the old governments still controlled their territories.
By now, years had passed, and humans had grown adept in their use of both powers. When someone teleported, they could track the signature from the blip of life spent in the same moment. Anyone using unauthorized teleportation would be tracked by warlocks and sucked dry to fuel future castings.
The largest treaty yet was signed, with every world power in attendance except one. The United States failed to sign the treaty banning teleportation in non-emergencies. Individual cities and states started passing local laws to the same effect, but the rollout was slow. To the rest of the world, they appeared to be a wasteful giant, using destructive energy that the rest of them abstained from.
The United States dominated global affairs, as the only ones still using teleportation. Other countries watched in frustration as they abused their advantage, making expensive deals with anyone who still wanted to teleport. The treaty did not apply to U.S. citizens, so draining them dry, even if teleporting in countries where it was illegal, would have been an act of war. It wasn’t fair, that they used the power when everyone else stopped.
Envy.
The dam broke when sigils other than “Move” were discovered. “Guard”, “Kill”, “Heal”, and the rest of the new powers made it impossible to resist using them. The treaty was broken, and broken so quickly by so many participants that bringing things back into line with force was unfeasible. One by one, each country announced their withdrawal from the treaty.
Everyone on the street was gray-haired and walking unsteadily. The average age of the world’s population was over sixty. Occasionally, you would see someone collapse into dust, as a faraway spell stole the last of their energy. They couldn’t stop. Even as it killed them, they couldn’t stop.
Gluttony. In the void between worlds, the angel’s chosen clenched her fists, regretting her choice. She should have just sent a flood. At least it would have been quick.
A turning point came. Humans knew it was the end, and knew there was nothing they could do to stop it. They settled down in their homes with their loved ones, and waited for the world to end.
Lust.
From the product of one of these apocalyptic unions, a child was born, to parents old enough to be grandparents. Babies born in that time grew quickly, as the constant drain of life energy aged them.
But after reaching adulthood, this one stopped. They stayed young and beautiful as everyone around them withered. Through some irregularity, they became a nexus. Energy flowed around them and inside them as it left everyone else. Each death added to their power, and each time they used their power, more died.
The cycle continued without limit. The last of humanity banded together to try and end the monster. A singular outside threat was what it took to unite them. But it was too late. Unlimited use of magic was too powerful to stand against.
When the world ended, another pair of green eyes joined the watchers around the angel’s chosen. The young and beautiful ascended.
“It was a trick,” she realized. “The world didn’t need to end. This is how you reproduce. But how did you know what I would choose?”
One of the watchers responded. “We chose you BECAUSE that was what you would choose. You ran your test, and humanity failed. As fair as can be.”
“So what happens to me now?”
“You were gifted at destruction. Now build a new world, and we will see if it does better than the last.”
Once more she became God, now exalted in creation.
______________________________________________________
58/365. Constructive criticism welcome and appreciated.
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"I suppose in hindsight I choose a rather sadistic method, but I decided it couldn't end with just one big thing. Does that make any sense? Well.. not like there is anything left that needs to understand.
I asked for Improved Immortatily; I won't bore you with the numerous little details. I grabbed a pistol and went out unto the world. Being honest, I started with my ex. Asshole had it coming.
Then I killed off humanity one by one. I wanted it to be personal for everyone because people in my day and age were just too damned... fuck I don't know the word. Words dont matter much anymore I suppose
Well anyway I killed on sight one at a time slowly outpacing birthrates Thats around when governments tried and failed to do anything People knew the apocalypse was happening ever so slowly when the nukes couldnt stop me They reacted in the ways you would think"
I stop talking to look at my cat, the last living thing besides me. She was always such a nice cat. I turn to Michael.
"Just her, ey?"
"With this death, it is fulfilled. From the most arrogant of your race to the strongest of creatures deep below, you have slain all. Only Fawn remains. Fulfill the Pact."
I look back at Fawn. Damn I loved her. She would still purr when these hands touched her; even when all I saw was the blood. Fucking dumbass animals. Fucking cunt angels. Fucking me.
For the first time in years, my hands shook as I did it. Funny that. I speak to Michael without turning my head.
"fucking do your part now"
"You were a dependable servant until the end. With the fulfillment of this Pact, your chosen blessing is bestowed upon you." With that, his holy spear pierced between my eyes. I felt it dig into me, then nothing.
"Blessings upon you" Michael said to no one in particular.
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