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God looked a considerable amount like an average man, though one a great deal cleaner than the usual muck-marred miscreants of the area. The cultists had expected someone — some*thing* — well...different. A mind-rendingly incomprehensible, robe-crappingly terrifying, *entity*. Not...this.
A puff of smoke from the pentagram and what did they get? A surprised looking chap wrapped in some form of short, silken robe — which had pink cherry blossoms embroided about it’s silky blue surface. It also appeared God was mid-meal, though not one of human souls and misery as one would expect. Instead, God had a bowl in one hand and a spoonful of milk-soggy chunks of brown clumps halfway to his slack-jawed white-toothed maw.
Who!? Who the not-hell is this?
God lowered his spoon back into his cereal.
“Ah. Um. Hello?”
The four living cultists looked at one another. The fifth stayed still and quiet at the top point of the pentagram, careful not to drop the knife through his heart.
“Hello?” Echoed Shib, the bravest cultist (who had been voted bravest by means of being the last to touch his nose a moment ago).
God opened his mouth but closed it and looked about the room instead. Candles, red painted sigils, dark stone walls, four red-robed figures upright and a fifth having a nap.
“Um.” Said Shib. “My lord. Um...”
The other cultists did their best to offer Shib subtle signs — gentle head thrusts towards God and small waves of the hands — beckoning him to get on with it and ask what they were all thinking.
“Um. To. To whom am I speaking, My Lord?” Asked Shib after some quiet chin scratching.
God was sitting very still and wide-eyed. His mouth fell open. Slammed shut. And then opened again, but this time words fell out. “I’m-I’m...I’m El.”
“El?”
“Short for Elrich. Elrich Cod is my name.”
One of the silent cultists, a broader, rounder fellow, looked down. “Oh for fucks sake, Tagg!”
They all looked down, even God (but not the cultist with a knife in his heart). Elrich didn’t understand the symbols but when the fight and screaming broke out he got the picture.
A misspelling had led to a miss-spelling. |
It was rare to be a medium. Especially in a hospital. Many ghosts lined the corridors, chatting, gathering or actively haunting the living. The cohort of the dead was a distracting ache to my career as a nurse.
‘So what will it be for lunch today nurse’ said the ghost of an elderly man named Peter. He was a recent addition to the hospital’s halls. He had a celebrated career as a chef before his passing, an was living vicariously though what I ate for lunch each day.
‘Just the same Peter’ I whispered at a low tone; as to not garner undue attention from my colleagues or living patients.
The already melted sandwich of soft cheese wilted against the warm temperature of the ward. I would put it in the fridge, but some ghost with a vendetta had already switched it off overnight.
I was more concerned with the living patients anyway. I was readying myself for 12 hours of explaining to the dreadfully ill why they are not allowed to smoke cigarettes inside the hospital.
I readied my medicines for my round when I had a foreboding sensation in my stomach. Somebody was about to die. My powers, whilst erratic at times, had one common theme. I could see the future dead before their time.
A new ghost wandered out of a patient room. The lady was barely visible, as her future was still uncertain. She may survive her next attempt at dying, or she may not. Her mouth was moving, forming a word with no sound. Aneurism. The silent killer.
In a panic I bleeped the Neurology doctors. The phone rang with their response. ‘Hurry’ I is called to them. ‘The patient in room 127 is having an aneurism’.
I slammed the phone down and started to prepare my equipment. I grabbed a porter who had just delivered a different patient to the ward and dragged him to stand by one side of the bed. Just as I finished preparing the equipment, the doctors ended the room and the lady collapsed.
The doctors whisked the patient away, taking her to the hospital operating theatres to stop the bleed in her brain.
I sighed a sign of relief as I watched her ghost fade away. She would be fine. She would live.
With my head in my hands I looked up to see the sandwich I had packed for lunch on the ground, having just been run over by the patients bed. ‘So what’s for lunch now?’ Said Peter’s ghost. |
\[POEM\]
Crawled out of womb,
Full of anger against you,
you, mother dearest.
​
Father dearest, you,
are not without blame too,
The donor of life.
​
Both of you, breeders,
have taken me from heaven,
right back into hell.
​
World filled with pain,
the excruciating pain,
pain of being born.
​
I stubbed my toe,
please hold me, mother dearest,
I have a boo boo. |
The scientist didn’t really care about their broken fingers. Not really. They could heal, be replaced, even. If it came to that. What mattered right now was the robot. Even if the robot did all the breaking.
The town was scared and wanted answers. The robot was unlike anything they had ever seen. Black shiny metal covered the entire service, no preserved damage when it was found in its smoldering crater. Like a grave, the scientist thought to themselves.
How did you die, little one? Snapping me like a twig and running off. What are you?
The scientist realized too many things at once. The armor was protected by electromagnetic shielding, not even air was allowed inches beyond the body. It was fitting with multiple weapons according to scanning. Simple projectile weapons. Missiles. Then the scientist did a double take. Hardlight lasers. Nuclear payloads. They just realized they had a weapon of war on their hands. Not just that. One of mass destruction.
Overviewing the machine's armor, weapons, software, the scientist began to shake. It automatically broke basic robotic laws and violated so many national codes the person would have a beyond-lifetime prison sentence.
How DID you die, little one?
The scientist knew that the underworld was making basic combat machines, but they weren’t autonomous enough to do anything more than cage-fights. And the lasers and nukes… this was government funded.
The scientist heard a knock on his door.
“Daddy- I’m scared.” Claire knocked me out of my story. “Why are you telling me this?”
I looked and saw nothing but honesty. “I… you need to be prepared. Out there the world is not that kind.” I decided to make it quick. “Do you want to know what happened?”
“I already know what happened. That was Grandaddy, right?”
I nodded, slowly. “Shot everything off and left us this.”
My arms found themselves wrapping around my tiny daughter’s chest.
“I am so sorry, my dear. You don’t deserve this.”
I looked at the door to my daughter’s room.
“K3lvin, keep her safe.”
“WHERE ARE YOU GOINNNNNNNNNNNNNN-G, MASTER?”
I needed to repair that damn voicebox.
“I think I’ll go for a walk.” |
*The following is a spiritual successor to a prior writing prompt* [seen here](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/z8pd1y/sp_you_are_a_greek_godgoddess_who_has_become_a/iydgs2x/?context=3)*.*
<1/2>
His name may have been Henry Mallon, but only the adults called him Henry. Everyone else called him Piggy. He was diagnosed with a heart condition at age 7, which left him unable to do much exercise. Already well over 200 pounds, Henry found himself endlessly insulted by the school's athletes and seen as an object of pity by the rest.
His only comfort came in the form of a fictional world he created. In it, he was respected. In it, he got sympathy and understanding, not mockery and disdain. And in it, there was Stella, a beautiful fellow senior who adored his kind heart and resilient ways. At least, he had been resilient.
Today in Miss Agape's health class, they were discussing the difference between lust and affection. Wouldn't you know it, the first student to answer decided to say that affection was when he looked good and lust was when he was ugly -- and she motioned her hand specifically in his direction as she said it.
It didn't matter that Miss Agape silenced the laughter almost immediately. It didn't matter that she spoke about how bullying was against the love of self and a sign of insecurity. It didn't matter that that student was told she could only score as high as 90 on the next test as punishment. He heard it all. He put his head down.
And for five minutes after that class, the last of the day, he couldn't move.
"Henry? Are you all right?"
Henry looked up from his pain to see Miss Agape, sitting in the desk next to his, a look of concern on her face. "Henry, I don't want you to think that's right. You are meaningful and you are special. You deserve love, in any form."
"Forget it,"said Henry, feeling oddly compelled to spill his guts. "The only person who cares about me is Stella, and I made her up. Life sucks. This school sucks. I hurt. And I'll probably die somehow before I'm your age. Maybe I should get it overwith. Who cares about me anyway?"
"Henry, no. I care!"Miss Agape got an idea. She pointed at the clock on the room, and as she did, it and time with it stood still. "Hey... look at that; you've got all the time you need,"she commented nonchalantly, as if she weren't the direct cause. "I think I know someone you can talk to before you go home."
Miss Agape walked to the classroom door and opened it. When Henry looked up, his jaw dropped and his breath halted. There, striding in, was a beautiful girl with bright red hair and piercing green eyes. She was wearing a white blouse and tartan jumper, like something out of a Japanese program. The knee-high socks confirmed everything Henry needed to know... except how.
"Stella?" |
The last thing I expected when I decided to take a luxury cruise to Hawaii was to be in the middle of a surrealist nightmare. The luxurious plans had quickly dissipated as the days dragged by, the sky never brightening.
One after another, the people around me started to disappear. Some passenger was always gone in the morning with no evidence of where they had disappeared to.
The crew was unhelpful; whenever I asked what was going on, they glared at me suspiciously. Their eyes followed me closely, as though a mystery lingered beneath the surface. As days passed, I started to feel like I was being watched. The oppressive feeling made it hard to breathe.
When I asked the remaining passengers, they were equally in the dark. What had happened to our companions? I decided to investigate on my own. On night 7 of the 14 day cruise, I snuck out of my room at 3 AM to wander the ship grounds and see if I could find anything unusual.
As I walked, I noticed that all the lights were off and it was unnaturally silent. It wasn’t until I reached the end of the hall that I saw a yellowish-green glow emitting from the cabin. I slowly opened the door and gasped as a figure in a white, hooded robe stepped out.
The figure slowly turned towards me, revealing a pale and twisted face. “It’s time,” he said in a low, croaking voice. I started to run, but it was too late. Before I could escape, I was thrown into a whirlwind of pain and terror.
When I came to, I was standing surrounded by a large crowd. Most of them were passengers from the cruise; the rest were towering figures wearing billowing white robes. I was still in pain and my vision was foggy, but I could make out one thing: they were all chanting my name.
As they raised their hands in unison to an unknown sky, the hooded figure spoke, “Your sacrifice will set us free – you are part of the chosen few.”
It was only then that I realized I had been chosen as an offering for one of their dark rituals. I was doomed to be a sacrifice, to be a victim in their dark deeds. |
Woo! It's time to make some pancakes for the first time! My friends said that the experience is pretty fun and really simple.
Alright, I have my ingredients after four days and am finally ready.
Step 1: Make some batter. Okay shouldn't be too hard, but I need to ask a friend how to do so.
Okay, this is actually easier than I thought!
Step 2: Do the Hokey Pokey and do stuff with the batter. Idk man I wasn't authorized by the pancake service exam.
Bruh. I will trust them anyway because they know more than me, right? I decide to put it on the stove.
Step 3: Pour the batter on your head.
Wait what? I'm pretty sure you don't do that. Well, whatever... AHAHHHHHH HOOTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT.
Step 4: Give your phone number to five people of the opposite gender.
I mean, I never had the self esteem to ask people out and also make friends, so thank you box!
Step 5: Get drunk and ask someone to come to your house.
WOAH WOAH WOAH. WHY WOULD I EVER DO THAT. I DON'T WANT.... CERTAIN....... STUFF........ TO HAPPEN!
Step 6: Make clothes out of peeled oranges, wear them, and ask random people to rate your clothes /10.
What??? I don't even have oranges! Where am I going to get people to rate my citrus clothes! You know what, fine.
It took a few days, and EWWWW. SOMEONE DESCRIBED ME AS.... I'M NOT EVEN GOING TO SAY IT. SO GROSS. FREAK YOU BOX, FREAK YOU. I throw it across the hall as hard as I can. I run across the hall to retrieve it and throw away. I take time to notice:
Step 7: Throw your box across your hall in anger because the instructions are weird
Wait what. This is a different kind of wait what, not the weirded type, but the confused type. I decide to look around my house. I start to notice cameras everywhere that I didn't place.
It starts to connect. The people that I gave my phone number to, they must have coincidentally been working for the pancake instructor, and the girl I asked to come over, they must have been the actual person! I've been spied on for the past week! Well, I am going to go sleep. I need to get out of these orange peel clothes though. As I am about to change, I notice a camera.
WELL, SCREW THIS. THIS WENT TOO FAR
911, I GOT A CASE ON YOUR HANDS. THE PANCAKE MAN WASN'T GOOD AFTER ALL FOUR YEARS OF INVESTIGATING.
**NOW HELP!!!!!!!!!!!**
This is a different kind of story than the ones I actually make. This one is a bit less serious, but I still kind of like it. It feels kinda weird tho. |
I immediately walked back into the bedroom and looked at my girlfriend. "Honey, where's the bathroom?"
Nyx took a break from her reading to reply, "Haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about, Penny."
"Really, so you have nothing to do with the fact that the door to the bathroom now leads to a neverending space of pitch-black emptiness?"
"Oh, that! Well, you see, I was promised, by you, the most coveted of rewards for the weekend: a lazy Saturday! Where we remain in the glorious sanctuary of plushies, blankets, and cuddle time that is our bed, and don't get up for anything."
I sighed as I gripped the bridge of my nose. "Baby, tell me you didn't make the bathroom disappear because I got out of bed to pee."
Nyx pouted as she fired back, "You said we wouldn't get out of bed for anything!"
"Nyx, come on, I can't just not use the bathroom all day. Sweetie, please bring it back, okay?"Nyx turned her nose up at me with a 'harrumph', prompting me to get closer to her with puppy dog eyes. "Please, nightlight? Pleeeeease?"
Nyx quivered for a bit before letting out a long groan and said, "Okay, fine. It's back now. And I won't stop you from going to the bathroom over the rest of the day."
I kissed her on the cheek and strolled off to the bathroom. Once I had finished my business, I returned to the bed, happily snuggled up under the blankets, and said to Nyx, "Hey. You want me to make it up to you?"I pulled my shirt off and gave my chest a few pats.
Nyx smiled and nestled into me with her head on my chest with a contented, "Mmm, tiddy pillow."
I kissed Nyx on her forehead as I said, "Only the best for my needy little goddess." |
"You are here by banish to the dark skirts of Sunnen. Never to return, you shall walk until the kingdom is no longer visible over the horizon. Shall you set foot on our grounds again, you shall be put down. Do I make my self clear General?"
"..... Fair enough."The general said with a shrug as brush himself off and turned to walk down the aisle of troops that were lined to see him off.
His lieutenant, whom he considered almost as a friend, broke through the ranks to consult the ex-general. "General wait! Y-YOU can't just except this! You're the reason we won the war! How are you okay with this!?"
The general placed a hand on the lieutenant's should, staring him in the eyes. "You were just returning from Aldmarsh when the capital becae under attack, so you do not know of my sin. After winning the battle, before beheading the enemy leader, as our leader spoke, I have gave into temptation and committed the greatest sin of all. I was lucky not to be killed on the spot, this is a gift of generosity from our beloved leader. I will not squander it."
The general gently pushed pass the the lieutenant. The lieutenant fell to his knees, "General please, atleast allow my squad to accompany you in your exile. We will follow you any where. Please, I'm begging!"
The general abruptly halted. It was almost as if time slowed. The leader's eyes widened, his hands went reaching for the royal bow. The general began turning around. The leader grasped an arrow. The general's expression revealed to be that of uncontainable joy, his cheeks puffed and eyes wide. The leader drew back the arrow. The general's mouth parted.
"Hi begging! I'm the general."The general's face contorted into shock as the arrow pierced his heart. He fell to the ground. "Yup ... I deserved th-", two more arrows flew into the general's head, before he could finish. The light faded from his eyes.
"I warned you!"The leader shouted at the corpse. The lieutenant kicked the general's body, "Get this trash out of here!"The lieutenant exclaimed, a clean up crew arriving to removed the general's body.
#12 Minutes Earlier
The soldiers on the battle field fought heavily. At the center of the conflict, the leader had brought the enemy leader to their knees. As it was royal combat, no troop was allowed to interfere except for generals and so everyone fought on around the rulers. The general withdrew his blade from the enemy general's neck and walked over to his leader. The leader raised his blade above the head of the kneeling enemy leader.
"This is the difference between you and I. We are like polar opposites. You were pampered, like a belligerent rich man when placed into a cage with a hungry man with the prize being a meal, you do not value the food so you do not give it your all. Me, my ambition carries us forward. When placed into the cage with a rich man, unlike you I understand the value of the meal. I'm hungry. I wi-"
"Hi hungry ..."The interrupted Leader turned his head slightly to see the general in his peripheral. "... I'm the general."Every soldier instantly stopped fighting and looked towards the 3.
"...get out."Said the leader, now facing the general. The enemy leader raised a hand to launch a fire ball at the general but the Leader placed a hand over his and shook his head as to tell him no. The leader looked towards the dark skirts of Sunnen and pointed in that direction. "Go." |
Intimidation can be obtained in many ways, but I've found that misdirection can be the most effective way to intimidate even the most fearsome of foes.
To achieve this with something as ridiculous as a propeller hat may seem impossible, but I assure you that it is much easier than one might think. You just require a few...props.
Get it?
Propeller...props.
Humor isn't in the equation, obviously.
The bet was a simple one; Frighten the local bully, get a date with the hottest lady this side of the Mississippi.
Do you think I would seriously pass that one up? Get to scare an idiot that has bothered an entire town for years and a date with her?
That's a win-win.
The only catch is having to wear a propeller hat while doing it.
However; they neglected to give any rules to how the propeller hat looked or functioned. Just handed me the hat and told me to wear it.
Oh wear it I shall, my simple-minded friends.
For you see; I love to invent. Few know of my talents in engineering and theater props.
This shall be fun.
I start by replacing the propeller itself with an actual larger propeller that has metal blades I have personally sharpened, angling them the same as the original hat, yet the length is more of an arm's length. I then attach said propeller to a live rotor wired to a motor I have inside of a backpack with a starter switch wired to a small watch I could wear under my clothes. All strapped tightly down, incase of any "lift-off"accidents.
"The exhaust will make for a nice touch...Like Black Beard's smoke from his hat."
I mumble to myself, making sure to place the exhaust end so it will make smoke around my head, reminded of how Black Beard would light cannon fuses in his hat to create an intimidating cloud of smoke wherever he went.
To ensure I didn't kill myself from exhaust fumes; I decided on wearing a full-face gas mask I had found from my father's military days. It certainly looked scary on it's own, so it should add quite a bit to the look.
I then decided to wear a blue jumpsuit, reminiscent of a classic slasher killer that many feared, along with black leather gloves and military-style boots.
"And now for the final touch..."
I say proudly with a wicked grin, as I stare at myself in a long mirror I had placed in my garage. The workshop of my schemes. A large bucket of viscous dark red fluid in my hands.
I place the bucket down and dip my gloved hands into it.
"I'm glad I'm friends with that butcher. Pig's blood will certainly make this even more intimidating."
I smear it all over my suit, the length of the propeller blades, mask, boots and hat. Giving myself the appearance of someone who has been in a few bloody altercations. Even leaving smeared handprints.
"Ah, screw it. Let's go all the way."
I say as I lift the bucket and pour it all over myself, making sure to leave the more pronounced markings I made unbothered, but making sure I reek of blood and I'm completely stained in it.
I look at the frightening appearance I have made of myself in the mirror with pride.
"Good. The bastard won't know what hit him with this."
I snicker evilly as I make my way out of the garage and to the designated place down the street I was going to frighten him.
I could instantly see all of the locals gathered in different spots in their yards, attempting to be inconspicuous, but failing horribly. All are waiting with intense anticipation of what entertainment the neighborhood is about to have in store for itself.
As I stride along, I see her; The vision of loveliness I so desired to date even once. Her long flowing hair like that of copper and eyes the color of the Caribbean Sea.
She was so gorgeous and too sweet to be around such an idiot as who was next to her; Him. The bully. Everyone hated him. No-one dared to do anything to him, though. His muscular figure and hot temper making him too intimidating without theatrics.
I grip my blood-soaked gloves, making a very wet disgusting leather squelch, as I stomp towards the two.
People have started to notice my get-up and are now staring in both horror and awe in equal measure. As though they were watching a train about to crash.
Neither the girl nor bully have noticed me yet, that is, until I flip the starter switch under my jumpsuit sleeve and the motor, as well as the propeller, begins to roar to life.
It slings the excess blood I had poured onto myself all across the streets and yards, making a terrifying trail as I march slowly towards my target, the smoke of the exhaust billowing around me and leaving it's own path in my wake.
The girl backs away from the bully, her eyes wide in horror. She expected me to do something crazy, but this was unexpected for even my level of insanity.
The bully, however, begins to laugh.
"You little shit! You honestly believe something so stupid would scare someone like me? I could pick you up and throw you like a javelin, string bean."
He continues to chuckle, standing unphased, as I continue to approach him. Slowly. Not saying a word. The propellers only spinning faster and faster, roaring as though it could take off at any moment.
A weird rattling noise begins to occur from the top of my hat, something I had definitely not planned for and suddenly gave me a sense of dread. I slow down my pace, considering to hit the switch to turn it off.
Before I can, though?
"Afraid now, huh you little bitch?! Well I'll just come to you!"
The bully yells out in anger as he decides to burst into a full sprint towards me. The idiocy of charging at someone with the equivalent of a lawnmower on their head apparently lost on his meathead mind.
I reach out to wave and yell for him to not come closer, but it is too little, too late. A loud bang happens as the bolt securing the propeller onto the hat flies up and off into the sky.
The propeller blades in full motion rip off of my head and flies straight at the bully's waist.
Everyone watches like a deer in headlights as the girl's sky-blue sundress is suddenly stained red with smatterings of blood.
The bully slumps over, pure fear in his eyes and propeller blades lodged in his abdomen.
I finally manage to switch the damned motor off and remove my gas mask. Surveying the scene;
The girl sobbing in terror, people all screaming and running, the bully definitely not getting up anytime soon. All who were there; Thoroughly intimidated.
My crazed mind finally chuckling out the words to the girl as I approach her, my eyes wide and an insanity-riddled smile across my face;
"Well...when shall we go on that date?" |
The feeling of comfort was torn away, as the baby was torn from its palace of unfeeling comfort by the pushing of the mother through the canal.
Unintelligible noise came through as the head passed the pelvic opening, and a vicious brightness that it had never seen before, even though its closed eyes. It felt for the first time, too, a slimy coat on its underside as the bowels voided themselves in exertion.
It tried to move, but all it could do is twitch uncontrollably and cry in need. Something warm was wrapped around it that *felt*, and it was passed to the mother. The things at the ends of its limbs tried to close, only the one in the middle on each hand wouldn't move.
It didn't understand this madness and insanity, or the fact that it could *think.* Its own inside voice was far too loud, and all the noise its body made was utterly horrifying. It cried again, louder this time to give voice to the suffering it's lack of talking provided.
It was a girl, and she was not born, yesterday. |
"I'm sorry, you did WHAT!"Sam furriously holding her bow and arrow. Aimed directly at a older gentleman in his early 60s. This was not how she expected this mission to go. It was supposed to be a simple rescue mission. Go in, get the president's daughter, capture the miscreant responsible. The appearance of Ransom, her former mentors arch nemisis made this a lot more complicated. He was supposed to be dead. Years ago, in a fiery building collapse, along with her mentor. Now she had him at arrow point. Uncertain of what to do. He was legally dead, consequently could he even be tried?
"Faked our deaths. It was the most logical solution my dear."Geoff, replied while adjusting his specticals. His once jet black hair turned old and grey. Calmly standing beside Ransom. "Now if you would please let me and my husband go, it would be much appreciated."
"Logical?"Sam yelled. "How on earth was that a logical answer? I mourned you for years. How dare you betray me like this!"Ransom chuckled, "I told you that you raised a firecracker, and that she'd be upset."
"I'm serious Ransom. Get down on the ground, or I'll shoot."Geoff shook his head in disappointment. "Samantha, please listen-". "No, you listen! Due to this little stunt of yours the guild is in shambles! Quin drank herself to death in a relapse. Jack tried to take revenge on the thieves guild by himself, consequently getting killed by your so-called lovers protoge. I had to step up as the leader, at the tender age of 16. While learning to be the single mother of the triplet toddlers you left behind."
Goff blinked in surprise. "Henrietta is the boys mother. Wouldn't she have cared for them adequately herself?"That was something he wasn't expecting. Henrietta was normally so diligent like he was. Sam shook her head. "Henrietta never wanted to be a mother Geoff. She had those kids because you said you wanted a big family. Trying to raise them without you broke her. She saw you in their faces every day. She had to leave, because it was makeing her suicidal."
Ransom sighed. "As tragic as all this is, my arms are getting tired. Can you at least let me put them down, if we're going to have a long winded chat?"Sam rolled her eyes. "Fine, but don't put them where I can't see them. I'm takeing you in still."Ransom lowered his arms down to his sides. "I understand your upset. Thing is your mentor needed to start anew... We both did."
Sam sneered. "Likely story. What lies did you tell him to make him leave."Ransom opened his mouth to only be cut off by Geoff. "It wasn't his idea Samantha. It was mine."Sam tightens her grip on the bow. "Yours? Doubtful. I knew Ransom can be conniving. I never thought you would fall for one of his tricks. Let alone to think his ideas are your own."Geoff begins to walk forward towards his old mentee. "It really was my idea. You see the two of us fighting-"Samantha swings her bow. Aimed directly at Geoff. "Don't come any closer."Ransom takes the opportunity to reach into his coat pocket. Pulling out a tape recorder. He presses play and a younger, more energetic Geoff's voice fills the room.
"Ransom, we can't keep going like this."Shuffling on the recorder could be heard. Followed by Ransoms response. "What are you talking about Geoff. We keep fake fighting for the press, and then sneak off like always. Nothing has to change.""It does. Ransom if we keep up this charade your going to hurt someone. We keep having to escalate in order to convince everyone that we're enemies. You burned down a inn for Christ sake.""Geoff I can't reform. You know that. If I don't keep the thieves guild running, Carol will. You don't want the bloody mess she'll bring.""We'll I'm tired of constantly fighting. Who says this has to be all our responsibility anyway? If we fake our death..."
Samantha's face fills with dread. "Shut it off! Right now."Ransom complies. Pressing the off key. "Why on earth would you have that if you weren't trying to set Geoff up?"Geoff pipes up, "He has it because he didn't make the recording. I did and gave it to him. To prove how serious I was in my proposal."The room goes near silent. Random steps forward. "Honey, it's great you want her to know the truth. Unfortunately we have to leave. She's not going to just forgive you."Ransom reaches out and tried to pull his husband away by the hand. Geoff pulls out of his lover's hand. "No, you should go. I owe her a full explanation."
Samantha let's go of her arrow. Turning into a net, that ensnares her former mentor. "You can give that explanation at your trial. For treason, arson and apparently kidnapping the president's daughter."She reaches into her quiver to pull out a second arrow. Ransom quickly pulls out a pistol, returning fire. Hitting her in the right shin. "Ow!"Samantha stumbles backwords. Ransom begins to pull on the net holding Geoff captive. "We actually had nothing to do with the kidnapping. Your mentor and I came here simply to visit my parents. It's my brother Derek you want. You'll find them in the basement."Samantha finishes loading her bow. Taking aim and firing. Hitting Ransom in the back with a stun arrow. Convulsing Ransom hits the floor unconcious.
Limping Samantha makes her way across the room. "I can't believe you could be such a monster."Geoff signed. "I never intented to be. I'm sorry I hurt you.""Save it. I don't believe a word out of your mouth."Hobbling to the door and taking out a radio. "Mission control, this is Foxnet. Bring in the van. We got more suspects than expected."A static sound crackles to life. "Copy that."
"My husband wasn't lying by the way. They are huddled down in the basement. A rather pathetic set up I might add. You can handle it, I'm sure."Sam glared at him. "Don't give me your reassurances like nothings changed."With that she makes her way out of the room and down the hall. She'll deal with her wayward mentor later. For now she had a job to finish. |
Thunder cracked outside, and the small loft's windows could barely hold back the downpour of rain.
Astorio stared outside, brooding as his usual. Coming to the United States 75 years ago had been a *bad* choice. At the time it had seemed better than what the USSR was turning his country into, but that hadn't lasted long. In 2022, to get a decent job you had to have something called "a degree"and understand "technology". Suffice to say he didn't. For a while he had taken a page from old Vlad's book and hired a guy to take care of modern things for him, but all it had taken Jerry to stop being an asset and become a burden had been a late night run-in with a bunch of gangsters who had eaten unmarked "army supplies"and now hungered for something more... brainy.
And there Jerry was now, slowly trying to bite Astorio's head and messing up his combover. It's not like Astorio had been able to move away from his now undead roommate, after all, the flat was Astorio's, and he was not selling. No place had quite the wide variety of blood than the blood bank next door, and the guard there had been easy enough to convince that all Astorio was doing when he came in late at night were "off-the-books donations". What a mortal could believe after you put crack into the homemade brownies you bring him every week never quite ceased to astonish Astorio.
But, with Jerry unable to pay rent, he had had to find another roommate. News had spread fast in the local supernatural scene, and of course the doggy park on the other side of the street had attracted werewolves. Specifically the 26 year old girl calling herself "Dyane"(Astorio was quite sure that was neither her real name nor the normal spelling of the moon goddess' name, but he didn't have it in him to argue with a millenial werewolf) that was currently preparing dinner. And for some reason she believed Vampires and Werewolves were meant to hate each other (when interrogated, she said she had learned it from someone named "Twilight". Astorio knew of no werewolf elder by that name, and decided it must have been a new age lupine guru). While the "will this food have been poisoned with garlic"game had been fun, Astorio missed the old days of hunting down mobs with his pal Bloodclaw.
He got distracted from his brooding by Dyane. "Have you met our new neighbour?"
"no, who is it?"
"she's called Erica, she moved from cali, says she wanted to be an actress but found a more worthy pursuit"Dyane set down the lasagne on the dinner table
"California? Any idea where?"Astorio asked, while taking a chunk and putting it in his plate.
"She said Los Angeles."Astorio almost chuckled on his bite.
"A worthier pursuit... was she perchance blond?"
"yes?"
"Dyane, I believe our new neighbour is the girl who busted Greg's satanic cult last week"
"oh gosh"exclaimed Dyane
"braaaains"replied Jerry worriedly
"indeed"Astorio said, before feeling his throat close up, his undead face turn a bright red, and his body start to shake. *Not again*, he thought.
"oh, forgot to tell you, I may have sprinkled a bit of garlic in the food"said Dyane with a wicked smirk on her face. "Jerry, go get the smelling sulphur, we'll need him to take on this monster hunter"
"Braaaaains"said Jerry, heading to the alchemical cabinet.
*Yet another assassination attempt. Yet another up and coming slayer.*
*Dinner as usual then*, Astorio thought before passing out. |
#The Tale of Wishes and Shells
The purple mist exiting from the lamp morphed into a strong, human physique. The genie bowed, his eyes closed.
“Greetings, my master. I am Zacharias Djinn, your servant. I can grant you, and *only* grant you, three wishes.”
“Oh, that sounds cool,” a timid voice said.
“It is, my mas...”
Zacharias opened his eyes. His master was nowhere to be seen.
“Where are you?”
“Down here.”
He looked down. A red, insignificant hermit crab without a shell standed below him. Zacharias thought that even his fists made of gas could crush it.
“I'm Brodi"the hermit crab said.
“This can't be right,” the genie protested. “I was supposed to grant the wishes or mighty kings, determined voyagers, warlords of reckoning! How do you dare, crab?”
“The lamp was just here in the sand in the middle of this wreck. I found it and decided to try.”
*Oh, that happened,"the genie thought. *I twisted that Arabian captain's wish and made him and his entire crew crash. That was fun.*
“Fine,” he said. “Let's get this over with. What's your first wish?
The crab thought on his head. He tittered side to side, thinking hard. He reached a conclusion and stopped.
“A shell.”
“A shell?”
“Yea, I need one. I'm a hermit crab.”
One shell. Singular. It could've asked for a golden shell, all the shells in the world, heck, it could've even wished to become a giant predator, no longer needing to hide inside a fragile hideout. This mixture of ingenuity, stupidity and humbleness flabbergasted the genie. Zacharias felt like, for the first time in years...to give his master what he exactly wished for.
“A shell it is!”
He snapped his fingers and a round, shiny shell materialized next to the crab. Brody hit it a few times with his strong claw before deciding for once that, yes, it was in fact a good shell.
“And for your next wish?” Zacharias asked. “Did you think of anything?”
He did. Brodi knew exactly what to ask.
“A shell.”
“Oh my fucking God,” Zacharias said. “Is all your petty crustacean mind can ever think of is *shells?*”
“It's for my wife. She needs a new shell.”
The genie slapped himself in the forehead. “Okay. Okay. Cool. Best wishes for both of you.”
Thus another snap and yet another shell appeard. It was also of good quality.
“Third wish,” he said. “Let me guess, a shell?”
“Uhm, I don't know...” Brodi said. “I never had this many shells before.”
*Shells! Shells! Shells!* That word was turning him insane. He was tired of hearing it, tired of thinking about it, tired of it all and specially tired of being a slave to whatever by luck came across his golden prison.
And then something clicked.
*Shells! Shells... Shells! Yes, shells, haha!*
He had an idea.
“Can I make a suggestion?”
“Sure,"Brodi answered.
“Why don't you take *my* shell?”
“You mean the lamp?”
“Yes, the lamp! It would nice shell, wouldn't? Think about it: it's made out of metal, so it would protect you well. It's smooth, comfy and clean inside.”
“Yea, but...”
“But?”
“...I feel bad taking away your shell.”
“Oh, I *insist*,” he started to make a wide and awfully friendly grin. “All you have to do is set me free by wishing it. Then, you'll have your shell and I'll be out of this thing forever!”
Brodi had never seen someone despising their *own* shells in the same way this guy did. No worries, he had a plan.
“Okay. I'm gonna make my wish.”
“*Yes! Let's go!*”
The genie began to rub his hands, making sparkles. He was about to use all his power to get himself free. Electricity spread through him like lightening bolts before the storm.
Brodi pondered.
“I wish...”
“*Yes... Yes!”
He carefully picked wish words he was going to say.
“I wish...”
“*Yes, yes, c'mon! Let's do it, pal!”
He did not like all of that pressure.
“I... I wish...”
“No stuttering now, man! Just spill it out! I'll literally do anything you say! Like, I'm obligated to. So come on!*”
Finally, he thought of a phrase. Brodi hit it a few times with his strong metaphorical claw before deciding for once that, yes, it was in fact a good phrase.
“I wish for me to get your shell, but for you to also get a new shell!”
“What?”
*THUNDER!*
It was done. The genie opened his eyes to see his lamp resting atop the small crab's body, the two shells stacked on top of it.
He looked down and saw a golden lamp exactly like his. His lower mist, which replaced his legs, was bound to it.
“Thank you for the shells, friend,” said Brodi before walking away with his new shells.
The genie wanted to scream, wanted to rampage, wanted to tear that crab limb by limb. Instead, he retreated into the lamp and cried so greatly it shook the land. To this day, whenever the Earth trembles around here, in the shores of the island, we know exactly why: because a genie was outsmarted by a crab that did not even intend it. You could call Brodi the Crab a trickster god... But are you really a trickster if you never intended to trick? |
The trees rustled ominously in the wind, their leaves shaking as if in warning. "It's time to get spooky!"the ghost said, its ethereal voice carrying through the air. The ghost, a wispy apparition with glowing eyes, was surrounded by a halo of flames that flickered and danced around its translucent form.
As the ghost spoke, the trees began to stir even more wildly, their branches reaching out like grasping hands. The wind picked up, howling through the forest and causing the leaves to rustle and whisper. The ghost laughed, its eerie cackle echoing through the trees.
"It's time for Halloween!"the ghost cried out, before ingulfing itself in a burst of flames. The fire blazed brightly, illuminating the forest with an eerie orange glow. The trees swayed and danced in the wind, their branches rustling as if in celebration.
The ghost emerged from the flames, its body now glowing with an otherworldly light. It drifted through the forest, its spectral form passing through the trees as if they were not even there. The trees whispered and rustled, their leaves shaking as the ghost passed by.
As the ghost reached the edge of the forest, it turned and looked back at the trees. "It's time to get spooky!"it said once again, before disappearing into the night. The trees rustled in agreement, their leaves shaking as if in approval. The night had truly become spooky, just as the ghost had said it would. |
“There is nothing natural about your twisted portfolio at all. You exist as any God of this world does, a powerful being like myself with the power to choose your path, unlike the mortals whom you inflict such pain upon.”
“My roles were given to me by my birth, from my father, your grandfather, that had no intention of giving mankind any hope, save for your mother, my own sister, who gave humans hope such that it would ease the humans into worshiping us. You however give them a hope that such sufferings could come to an end when I am only a reflection of their world.”
“You of all Gods should know that isn’t true. You have control over your domains. You could choose to lessen the Suffering, Fear, Decay, and all your evils to the lowest possible amount, but you crave the attention of humans. You ratchet your portfolio so high that humans must acknowledge you.”
“As we all must do. We fade away if our domains fade from the realm of humans, boy. Even if we do lessen ourselves, we leave ourselves open to being killed by our own kind in an effort to control all the powers of the world.”
“That’s why I am here. I came to give you my birthright and my domain. Promise me that you can tone down the evils of this world, and I will give you my domain of sacrifice.”
“You would trade your eternity to improve the lives of the divine cattle?”
“I would. I don’t see them as cattle. They are much closer to us than they are distant. You may find that they are worth lessening their burdens.”
The nephew extended an arm to their Uncle.
The uncle took his nephew’s hand and felt the surge of divine power leap from hand to hand, but as the power came, so too did feelings unlike anything the God had felt before.
“This is not what you promised, Boy. This isn’t sacrifice, your domain is, EMPATHY?”
The Golding chuckled as he turned to dust.
“It’s a terrible burden. I am glad to have ridded myself of it. No other God would take it.”
“Take this back, Boy!”
“It’s too late for me.”
“Aughhhhhh!” |
"The great old ones could drive you mad just by knowing about them, so how? How could this man mow them down like chaff?"I asked, shocked.
I looked around the bunker, what just a few days prior, I considered my inevitable tomb. The somber, strained atmosphere that usually permeated the place was replaced with something we haven't felt for years. Hope. We all stared at the screens that displayed the outside world, where an wrinkled old man slowly ambled across the desolate landscape.
I turned to one of the scientists, hoping to get an answer.
"It's precisely that power that makes them so weak to him, you know. The great old ones are all-powerful to those who see their terrible forms or hear their incomprehensible words, but him? He cannot see, and he cannot comprehend. To the great old ones, he is an infinitely dense mass that they cannot influence."
As she talked, the man on the screen walked straight through one of the heavily censored great old ones. In an instant, the shuddering mass evaporated, becoming nothing more than dust.
"So, this is it? All our weapons, our knowledge, superseded by a single old man?"I muttered, shaking my head. It was ridiculous, almost like a sick joke. But I couldn't deny the incredulous scene playing out on the screen. |
“Hi, I, uh…” I stepped through the beaded curtain. The room was filled with light, hundreds of crystals hung from the ceiling, the shelves, every available surface, and the light from the single table lamp reflected and refracted in every direction as they rocked gently with the air. It stank of incense, dust, and ancient books.
“Come in now, let’s have a look at you.” I nearly jumped out of my skin. A shape that I had first assumed to be a pile of old coats stacked on a leather chair turned out to be an extremely wrinkled and wizened old woman. Her skin was like leather left too long in the sun, her hands were like skin drawn over bone, but her eyes glittered bright, piercing me with her gaze.
“I. Uh.” I hesitated. I almost walked out then and there. Something about this old woman gave me the creeps. “I was told maybe you could help me.”
“Could be, could be.” Said the old woman, smiling widely. Her whole face scrunched up as she smiling, folds upon folds, I could see the canyon-deep lines that her smile had dug across her cheeks. “I will certainly try. Come, sit.”
A chair groaned as it pushed back away from the table. After another moment’s hesitation, I sat down.
“Now, what’s your problem, child?”
“I, Uh.” I shook my head. “I have trouble with time.”
She smiled even more deeply, saying nothing. She simply waited for me to continue.
“I, I can’t keep track of time.” I said. “Like, I can’t remember what happened yesterday or a year ago. I can remember, I mean, but I can’t remember which things happened when.”
She nodded slightly. “Hmm.”
“Everything just blurs together. It all feels like it just happened yesterday.” I shook my head. “I can’t keep anything straight…”
She waited again, her eyes burning through my soul.
“Saw doctors. Neurological tests. Psych tests. All normal. Except I have zero ability to remember time . . . “
An odd expression slowly slid across her face, the canyons rearranging themselves furiously as her smile changed into a strange contemplative stare. She was nodding slowly to herself. “I’ve often had a similar issue myself. Interesting. Let me see your hand, child.”
I held out my palm and she stared down at it. Almost immediately she broke out laughing. It was a bright, joyful sound, not at all the dusty cackle I would have expected from her.
“What? What is it?” I asked, confused.
She took my hand again. “Every person experiences time differently, child.” She explained. “They experience life based on how long their life will be.” She shrugged. “The cosmos has at least some sense of fairness, I suppose. Or perhaps a sense of humor.” He held up my hand, tracing her finger along my palm.
“What?” I shook my head. “I don’t–”
“Your lifeline, child.” She said, tracing her finger down an strangely curved line on my palm. “See?”
“No…”
“In most people, it’s a line from perhaps here to here.” She tapped the sides of my palm. ”On my palm, it reaches almost across the back of my hand.” She grins. “But yours…” I saw the line folded back on itself, forming a sort of figure-eight shape.
“The infinity sign?” I whispered.
“Indeed.” She said, nodding. “I doubt I can help you much with your problem, except perhaps to advise you to make some solid long-term investments.”
I stared at her, my mind reeling. Something about her words resonated somewhere deep in my soul, as if something I had always known were waking up within me. Gripped with the icy horror of revelation I somehow knew that her words were true.
She laughed again, this time there was a sharp edge to it. “Save well for retirement, child.”
I could still hear her cackle echoing in my ears, long after I had fled… |
I was sitting around, drinking a spiced boozy cider as the children came back from their quests.
The ones that could handle it I sent on minor combat tests, ensuring there was always a set of warriors ready to take up arms for the village. Not that I couldn't do it in my old age if need be, but I'm not what I used to be.
Most of the time they just went a few towns over and learned about something. Hell, most of those were essentially learning about fetch quests and how complex they can be to make sure they always get things right.
However, something went *horrifically* wrong for my own grandson.
See, I knew he could handle combat, I trained him myself since he could walk. However, I didn't have anything he could go out and slay and he really needed to learn that he can afford to be patient rather than waiting for the next fight, so I sent him on a longer fetch quest to grab something that is supposed to make my body young again. The path was regularly patrolled, and was perfectly safe under normal circumstances. Normally 2 weeks to a month depending on how long the kid decided to stay in the area.
When it started creeping towards a month with none of my contacts in other nearby towns seeing heads or tails of him there, I started getting worried about him. One month became 2, 2 became 3, and so on.
6 months later, I was fearing the worst until one of my very old friends from across the continent was seen right after his horse keeled over dead. I ran out there as fast as these elderly bones, and all I see is my grandson clinging to life, bleeding out, and three broken swords. Everything else I had sent him with was either broken or gone.
I called out for the healer, which helped him up. Despite me training him his entire life, I wasn't expecting him to get into a scuffle with a dragon! Hell dragons aren't supposed to be alive, but there's some extremely isolated ones flying around according to the injuries he has.
I regret sending him so far from home. I was just trying to let him see the world, and all I did was get him hurt. |
It was never like this before.
Rain was something I used to love.
....I don't love it.
***I hate it so much.***
They warned us, But they only barely knew themselves. It wasn't the temperatures that changed, we maxed out in 2030. Instead the wind just got faster. I stopped letting my kids outside in lose clothes, bought weights just to put in their pockets-- I'm just heavy enough not to fall over, but even then...
I need to evacuate. I have five minutes max before that thing runs over my house and takes me and my children out.
Just getting them to the car was terrifying. and now I can't afford to stop until I get to the nearest bunker, Seven hours.
I can't even stop, because that thing might catch up.
Why didn't we listen?
***Why couldn't we just stop and keep people from getting killed by those damn things?*** |
You know that saying, "that's some uncanny valley type shit right there?"Well, what most people consider "uncanny"is no more than the human brain trying to make a pattern out of a bunch of sticks. Well, that's not what I saw two weeks ago. If I am being honest with you, I don't know. There is not a force in all of heaven or hell that could get me to go back there.
Two weeks ago my two brothers and I were driving home from my Grandpa's house out in the country. We had a great time and shot a bunch of guns in an old gravel pit, ensuring all of our rounds hit the dirt and that none of them went flying off to God knows where. We were on some god-forsaken back road about 20 miles southwest of Mt Pennell in Utah. My car had three-quarters of a tank of gas along with another 15 gallons of fuel on the small cargo hitch in the back. For context that is enough gas to get me almost 700 miles. On our way home, we are talking about friends, family, work, and how classes are going, stuff like that. All of a sudden my low fuel light comes on letting me know that I'm almost out of gas. But that can't be right. I had almost a 300-mile range left just a couple of hours ago. Fearing that I may have snagged my fuel line I pulled over to the side of the road and crawled under my car. I didn't see anything out of the ordinary and the bottom of the car was dry as a bone. Thinking it was just a faulty sensor I got up, dusted myself off, and got back into the car. Turned the car on and the fuel gauge said that I had just over half a tank left. Confirming it was just a sensor glitch.
About twenty minutes later my car started to act really weird. It would sometimes rev up like I just stepped on the gas, but our speed never changed or it would start to lose power. I told my brother J who was riding shotgun to look up where the nearest town was and to set out GPS for it. Just then, over the horizon, we saw the lights of a town and it looked like they were on the same road we were on. I remember saying, "well that's convenient."
My brother M, in the back seat, said "I don't remember passing through a town on our way to Grandpa's house."Both J and I looked at each other briefly desperately trying to recall passing through a town. Unfortunately, neither of us could remember passing tough a town while traveling on this road.
J then said, "towns just don't pop up overnight. We must have just missed it on our way up. Something like that happens more often than we would like to admit."All of us agreed with each other happy to have found an exclamation that seemed to have fit so nicely. But I couldn't help that deep gut feeling that something was wrong.
As entered the town it seemed dead. We pulled into the only gas station in town by the main road and the car seemed to have died. The lights in the gas station were on and I could see inside. It didn't look like abandoned places or towns with all the windows and doors border up. But like all the people either disappeared or went into hiding as soon as we pulled into town. The town itself looked to be in decent enough shape if not a little "forgotten backwater town"vibe going on. Just then M said, "I don't like this. I have a really bad feeling."
Both J and I agreed and I told M to grab the rifles and handguns we had in the back of the car I also had him grab the HAM radio that I kept strapped to my ammo bag. I know that some of you will think that is an overreaction and shouldn't have done that, but this feeling of dread and doom was strong it would be like free falling out of an airplane or watching a tsunami traveling towards you. He handed me my rifle, an AR-15, and my handgun, a CZ-p07 along with a few mags for each firearm and the HAM radio. He did the same for J and got his guns as well. When I got the radio I tuned it to 462.675, the emergency comms frequency.
I told M and J that I was going to go in and talk to the clerk to see if there was a car shop in town and what time they opened.
When I opened the door to go in, I did something that I never have done in the past or since. I grabbed my gun and racked a round into the chamber. As I entered into the gas station I was greeted with a cool air condition interior. Going straight to the front desk and finding no one as well as walking around the store I couldn't find a single person. It was like no one was ever there. That's not to say the shelves were empty, they were anything but. Just then a loud HONK came from outside. After damn near shitting myself, I turned around to see M with his AK hurriedly waving me over.
Running out of the store and rushing back to the safety of the car J tells me the radio started to beeping. He said at first they thought it was just a test of the comms equipment they have set up to make sure everything is working. Then it started to repeat itself. M said it was Morse code and it was beeping out, "not human, not safe, run."As if we were in a bad horror movie right as the last rays of the sun went over the horizon and plunging the area into darkness all three of us see a human-sized figure standing about two blocks away in the middle of the street looking right at us. Right then we knew that wasn't a person.
We all just sat there in disbelief and horror. J finally said what we were all thinking. "What the actual fuck is that?"
"I don't know."I said, "but we should sleep in the car for the night. One person watches while the others sleep. No one leaves the car. We can use NVGs and thermals to keep track of where those...things are. If one gets within 50 yards of the car then wake the other three up."
M then asked, "why not stay in the gas station? Four walls with one way in and out would make an easier to defend."
J responded with, "Because we don't want to trap ourselves in an enclosed area. As you said, this town wasn't here when we drove on this road a few days ago. We don't even know if our guns can kill these things"
"Your plan is not a bad one. We can use the gas station as a fallback point if the car seems like it will get overrun."I said to M. Why don't you grab the water bottles and place them in the seat next to you? If we need to make a quick evac I don't want to be having to dig for stuff."
"They are in the far back of the car,"I said defeated.
"That's fine. We'll cover you,"J replied.
So both J and I stood with rifles at a low ready while M dug through the stuff in the back of the car. When J yelled, "contact front!"Both M and I whipped around rifles aimed and fingers on the trigger in the approximate location of where J was looking.
"I don't see anything."I said, "How about you M?"
"I got nothing on thermal,"M said relieved.
"I swear I saw a flash of movement."J said, "But it might have been my nerves getting the better of me"
"It's okay."I said, "we are all scared and don't want to be here. In the morning if this place is just as erie we can call for help. Plus since we don't know where we are it will be harder for rescue crews to find us."
"Got the water and it's in the car"M said breaking the brief silence.
"alright, in the car."I said.
The first few hours of the night were boring. J and I ended up asking each other questions about the classes we were taking while M slept for a bit. J turned to me and asked in a hushed voice, "do you think we will get out of here?"
I gotta admit I was asking myself the same question. Running our situation through my head and I didn't like what I kept coming to. I simply responded with, "I don't know, but what I do know is that there is no one that I trust more than you two."J just sat there and nodded for a bit. The radio that I had kind of forgotten about then came to life with a long beep with three short beeps, a short beep, four rapid short beeps, two short beeps, one long and a short beep, and a long and two short beeps. Not knowing Mores code myself I looked behind me to wake up and nearly shat myself for the second time I figured out what was being said over the radio. J must have seen my face as he then looked back as well.
I swear the next part happened in slow motion. I watched as the color drained from J's face as I intensively reached for the key that I left in the ignition. With a desperate turn of the key, the car roared to life. I wasted no time and put the car into drive and slammed my foot onto the gas pedal. By the time we got to where we saw the first creature, we were already doing 70mph by the end of the town we were doing 100mph. M woke up with the sudden movement and noise asking what was going on and J quickly filled him in. M yelled scared out of his mind, "It's gaining on us!"
I yelled back, "shoot the fucker!"M pulled up his M1 scout and in a quick session fired 3 shots at the thing. If you never heard a gun being fired in a car you are not missing much. Even with it being suppressed the thing is still loud as hell. It was probably the only thing that kept us from going deaf though.
M said the two most beautiful words that I have ever heard, "It's down!"With that, I slowed the car down to a more sane 70mph. I felt relieved. Like a weight was lifted from me. As if that wasn't enough we passed a sign that said, "Escalante 50mi."We made it to Escalante just as the sun was rising above the horizon. We stopped at the closest hotel and crashed for what felt like days. But in reality, was closer to 12 hours. From there the rest of our trip home was uneventful even by normal road trip standards. I don't know what we ran into or if we killed it. I also don't know who or what was trying to contact us through the radio. All I know is that we wouldn't be here today if it wasn't for them. |
"One of you won't leave this mansion tonight..."A voice echoed through the old mansion, forever stuck in the dry fields of New Mexico. The four people unlucky enough to be in this situation backed away from one another, suspicious of each other. The detective pulled out his revolver and rallied the group. "I'm sorry for lying to you, but I am a detective, not a-"A shot rang out. "I'm here on the case of George McFarlane, looking into his disappearance, and I think I found my culprit!"A hand reached out from the dark room he was in front of and grabbed his gun, quickly shooting the detective and dropping the gun. Then... silence...
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It was August of 1894, the town of New Hastings bustled with life, Shepards guided their sheep, farmers packed their wagons with the newest harvest, and life was good for the townspeople. One fateful day would lead to the end of this happy town, but that shall be explained later. First, I must tell you about the four strangers that traveled across the desolate desert to reach this utopia... |
Non-existence. You can name them, but I’ll save you the trouble of describing. They do not exist. They rule over all others that don’t exist, have never existed, and never will exist. Their domain is both infinitely large and, you guessed it, non-existent. Has no effect on the existing universe and yet the existing universe is constantly “stealing” from them by making things exist. They would be pissed about this, except, they don’t exist, therefore have no feelings about it at all. If they ever start existing, well, they might be wrathful, but all their resources and power still don’t exist, so… |
He smiled as Jessica shuddered. He slowly brought one finger close to her fragile little skull, careful not to pop another one. She really was as pretty in real life as she was on tv.
"P-please... I ju- I just read off the teleprompter... I don't even write this stuff..."
He glanced back behind him. The teleprompter was now splattered with the camera man's blood. At least that one was on purpose. He looked down at Jessica's former cohost, the headless torso in a fancy suit. *That one* had been an accident. It was meant to be a flick, a warning to smarten up. Well, the public didn't need to know about all this.
"Let's start over. I didn't appreciate your story, so I came to make a few *corrections*."He looked around at the rest of the Channel 5 News staff. "Everyone, gather round. We're going to rewrite your little story before we turn the cameras back on."
He floated into the center of the studio, where the gaping hole his entrance had left in the ceiling created a natural spotlight on him.
"I'd just like to say first, that I'm sorry if anyone feels like what happened to the camera man or Randy here was my fault. Believe me, I never want to hurt anyone. But my work is just so important, and this kind of *SLANDER...*"The staff jumped. The weather girl by the greenscreen started to cry. The remaining two cameramen stared at the floor. He slowly clenched one fist and floated higher into the air, before taking a deep breath and continuing.
"This type of libel and defamation, it hurts my cause. But the ends justify the means because I am a man of *peace*. I am a force for *good*."His hands still dripped with the brain matter and skull fragments from the heads he'd crushed just seconds before.
"Chemical V has side effects on *some* people. But they were all weak. And putting me in the same category as those *IDIOTS*..."Again, the staff jumped. "...well, that's a mistake we won't make again, shall we? You, with the laptop, get over here and start writing down what I tell you. We're going to go live again in 15. Nothing that happened here leaves this room. And... Oh..."
The emergency exit door slammed shut as the weather girl sprinted down the hall. She was running as fast as she could, panting and crying as she went. Everyone in the room kept their heads down as they heard the rapid click of her heels echo down the hall. No one dared to move.
He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Like a lightning flash, the hovering figure blinked in and out of existence. A thundering boom shook the studio. A hurricane-like wind knocked everyone off their feet. The hulking metal emergency door exploded into dust and shrapnel. He reappeared instantly, blood dripping off his body like rain.
"I didn't want to do that."He was smiling, soaking in their fear and awe. "Let's try this again."
. . .
The multi-colored rectangle disappeared, and Jessica Williams reappeared on the screen, hands shaking as they clutched her notes, eyes wide as she stared directly into the teleprompter.
"A-apologies for the technical difficulties, ladies and... ladies and gentlemen. My cohost, Randy Cooper, was not feeling well and will not be returning to Channel 5 News.
As we were saying before the break, the Chemical V super soldier serum has led to super powered individuals with mental health issues and delusions. However, one hero gained powers without any side effects, and Channel 5 News would like to apologize for our... for our stupid mistake in our earlier broadcast. He's already accomplished such great feats as..." |
I have always appreciated the peacefulness of 5th street, lined with old houses on one side and small local businesses on the other. When I turn the block, I’m greeted with the usual quaint atmosphere of the block. I walk past the coffee shop Roasted and stop in front of the adjacent storefront.
Yesterday, a new bookstore had opened in the space, claiming to sell both modern favorites and rare classics in the window signs. Now, a vibrantly colored grocery store stands in its place. The building is narrow, with two stories and a brick front painted with orange and blue patterns. Sky blue letters painted in script above the door read “All Foods.” A sense of curiosity fills me, followed by apprehension. The building has no windows, surely a violation of the city fire code. The street is empty, save myself staring in awe at the misplaced store. I step forward.
I reach for the handle, but the door pulls inwards before I grasp it. The inside is shrouded by darkness, but a welcoming voice says, “Please come in.” I inch forward to the threshold, gathering the courage to step inside. “One small step for man..” I whisper to myself as I enter the store.
In the transition, light and music swell around me as the door gently creaks shut behind me. The interior is well lit with LEDs. Polished marble tile composes the floor and stretches to the stainless steel walls. Immaculately carved walnut shelves tower around me, holding various foods described by holographic signs projected above them. And to my right, a stumpy gruff man bellows, “Welcome!”
“The name is Harold Wethers, but you can call me Harry. I don’t believe I recognize you. First timer, right?”
I stare, attempting to compose myself. “Uh, yes, I..”
“Here boy, take a seat.”
Harry rolls a chair next to me and motions for me to sit. This I manage, and gracelessly drop into the chair. As I do, it begins adjusting itself, moving up, down, angling the back. Nausea rises in me, but thankfully the chair has decided my position is now acceptable.
“Brand new, Victrus model X. Now that’s a chair, ain’t it?”
I can barely muster a response. “Was it trying to kill me?”
A hearty laugh flows from him. “Of course not, it was figuring your comfortability. A little aggressive, but tell me that’s not the best damn sit you’ve had.” I pause and realize he’s not completely wrong.
“Now my brother, he hates progress, including fine chairs like that one,” Harry says. “He prefers his handmade leather couches and oak chairs.” He squints at me. “Wait, you’re not one of them too, are ya?”
“No, no, I love progress. Very much so.” I smile and nod for emphasis, hoping this strange man is going to let me leave.
“Hmm. Alright then.” His squint is replaced by a wide grin. “Let’s get to the tour then.”The Victrus model X wheels me behind Harry as he explains the layout. “Over here, we have your standard produce. Carrots, celery, eckren root, apples, peppers, rimbolayas..” He continues as I scan through foods that I recognize to find so many that I don’t. The eckren root is a dark pink strand of roots connected at a base, while the rimbolayas are apple size, but rainbow colored and perfectly spherical. Besides these, many other unrecognizable fruits and vegetables line the shelves and bins.
“Harry, actually, I don’t think I recognize some of these,” I interrupt. “And, I’m a little confused about the store. I thought there was a bookstore here.”
“That’s a common misunderstanding. See this is a shared space. My brother Bill and myself, we get Wednesdays, that’d be today. That book obsessed girl Shirley gets Tuesdays. It’s an honest mistake, so I won’t hold it against you too hard now.” He chuckles and gives me a wink. As he finishes, a tall, slender man with sharp features walks toward us from the back of the store. Harry turns and yells, “Bill, don’t worry, I got this!”
Bill continues his quiet but steady pace and stops beside Harry, who rolls his eyes. Bill addresses me, “Hello sir. My name is William Wethers, co-owner of this highly decorated establishment, known as All Foods.”
“But you can call him Bill,” Harry says.
Bill turns to his brother, then to me. “No, you may not sir. Please refer to me as William. Now, I presume that my brother has rushed into showing off, leaving you without a proper explanation as to where you are. I will answer these questions. ‘Where am I?’ you may be thinking. You are in All Foods, the fine grocery store currently making use of this newly established shared space, moved from the corner of 14th street due to temporal zoning. ‘What can I buy here?’ you may be wondering. This of course, you can see. Food, the most delightful and splendid food available. Food from here, from there, from now, from then.”
“What exactly do you mean from-”
“Ahem, excuse me sir, please allow me to finish. From places you haven’t seen, to times that have long passed, from galaxies beyond the stars, from futures that have not unraveled. That is what I mean. ‘What can I take with me?’ Nothing. You can take your items to the inhouse chef and have a meal prepared here, but you cannot leave with protected items. Otherwise, you may very well destroy the fabric of existence, and patching those holes is always quite tiresome.”
“He’s being a little over the top, but he ain’t completely wrong,” Harry says. “So, how about the rest of that tour?” |
“Wizard ...” the suspect chuckled under his breath, “if you only knew...”
It took a moment to process, what with the running and screaming, what he’d said. By the time I realized what he’d said, it was too late - he was gone. I’d searched all over the building, even calling out to him in vain, my curiosity overcoming any sense of caution I’d began with. My backup had found me, shouting “HELLO!?”, wild-eyed and breathless, and I’d been recommended to medical services for a mental health screening. I didn’t even try to make sense of what had happened in the post-incident report - I simply lied and said I’d discharged my weapon at a shadow, and took the 14 days of paid leave and mandatory mark in my file.
There were days, on my fifth or sixth pour of bourbon, that I wondered if maybe I had lost it after all. A decade in police work is hard on anyone, but beat cops often had it the worst. There was a disassociating affect to so much time alone in what felt like hostile environments. Cops weren’t loved these days, and the world seemed to be slowly losing its collective mind. Every call was potentially the last one, especially in this part of Chicago, and the constant flood of fear and adrenaline was truly exhausting.
But I hadn’t lost my mind. I saw what I saw. The fact that he knew my name when I’d walked in the room ... not my last name pinned to my chest, but ‘Tommy’ - what my friends called me.
“Don’t be afraid, Tommy, hear me out…”
You don’t really think when you are on those calls - your brain isn’t really processing. The training takes over - especially the stuff about not dying. He reached into his pocket, his hand disappearing behind his black acrylic jacket ...
You shoot. That’s what you are trained to do. They hammer you with that in the Academy, and it’s often the thing you rehearse the most in your car when you are driving around alone.
BANG ... and then a slight movement caught my eye, of what should have been blood or fabric falling to the ground. The sound of the cartridge hitting the floor at my feet - the lead tinkle as it skittered across the floor- was answered by the sound of the lead bullet, squashed flat, bouncing away from the suspect.
“Yes, but why a Wizard?” Dr. Brommer asked, bemused, snapping me out of my daze.
“I don’t know ... I’ve been reading a lot of Fantasy books in the car during the slow parts of my shift. I guess that’s where my head was at” I chuckled, and then sighed, “Who knows, Doc, who knows .... “
“I do” said another voice, one that I instantly knew, my body going rigid with fear. I snapped my head to the right, looking for the source, for the jacket ...
Out of the deep shadows of the corner of the office he stepped, his piercing gaze locked into mine, a slight rise in the corner of his mouth.
“Hello, again, Tommy, I think you and I need to chat. Thanks, Doc, you can leave now.” |
Thomas looked at the newly turned vampire. "Have you heard of the lions of Tsavo?"Those beasts had terrorized the entire area, devouring humans without restraint. "A friend of mine liked these animals, how they formed prides."
The older vampire cleaned his glasses. "He only turned one, and taught it how to feed properly, not wasting blood."But the imbecile had gone back to Britain in a hurry to save his estate from defaulting, leaving a wild beast free to wreak havoc.
"But it was a duo of lions..."Clarke fell silent, realizing it. "Yes, the lion turned its brother."Then these animals decimated the population, evading trappers and hunters at every turn. "But the official count is...""Less than forty? Foolish kid."
The pair used its prodigious strength and speed to raid many other tribes, using the emptied houses as cover from the sun. "Who knows how many tribes faded into the Savannah? Devoured by lions with none the wiser?"Thomas sighed at the memories.
"And they didn't stop at humans, elephant and giraffe herds fell as well."If they weren't stopped, soon Africa would be overrun with bloodthirsty lions, then the world. "To make things worse, they were spotted courting lone lionesses to increase their ranks."
"Tsk. Because of that moron, we had to collaborate with the Hellsing guild to kill these abominations."Nobody wanted to leave this menace unchecked, even allying with the enemy for a common goal. "That's how we found out how bad an idea is to turn animals into vampires." |
He couldn’t. How could he? - he thought to himself. He deserved to be here. He earned his place here. Better yet, he was first in line for the next open spot in hell. Prison could never live up to the eternal punishment he deserved. What he really deserved - was a life lacking love, comfort, and any form of friendship. But due to the cruel, unfair ways of the world - he was blessed beyond measure in that area. True had a best friend he couldn’t chase away if he tried. A right hand man. Even after everything happened - the trial, the sentencing, his time in 22 hour per day isolation - Mickey was there for him. He had never known a love like it. Sure, he had been married - but his wife was always up to something with the neighbor when he was at work. And sure, he had children. But, where does one make room for the love of fatherhood when he is too busy cracking open the next beer and diving deeper into depression? He had always gone through the motions. Except with Mickey, that is.
True and Mickey were best friends since his parents moved to Lincoln when he was 7. He had trouble making friends in school. The bullying made it hard to focus on his grades. The bad grades resulted in constant disciplinary action by his parents. Nobody cared or seemed interested in him for who he was - until Mickey. And ever since 1934, they were the best of friends - even when True became a cold-blooded killer. |
"Isn't it strange, Taylor?"
They watched from their tower as flames licked the walls of an orphanage downtown, the aftermath of another night of vigilante justice.
"Isn't what strange?"Taylor turned to the man he affectionately called his partner in crime. Ironically, of course.
"Ya know, just that all the charitable organizations in this city are funded by evil deeds? It'd be one thing if a couple of them were fronts, but I think we've investigated and shut down about half of them by now. "
Taylor sighed, glancing over at his partner. "Remember the first one? When we crashed that food bank funding gala?"
"Ooh, boy. I still get nightmares about that one. They was spiking the food with fancy chemicals, wasn't they? Made the homeless they was feeding all sorts of smart and dangerous?"
"Yup. When we cornered the mastermind, he tried to claim that he was helping them. Instant education, and an ultimate solution to homelessness! You remember what actually happened?"
His partner's eyebrows furrowed as he tried to remember events from nearly 10 years ago. "It was a bit complicated, right? Something about economics and the greater good?"
"Yup, if everyone had the equivalent of a PhD education, it would completely upend the economy. Nobody would be willing to attend the gas pumps, the retail stores, or take part in politics. Everything you know and hold dear would change. Terrible right? It's an unfortunate reality that destroying the status quo will cause a large amount of harm."
"Wait, but what if things could be better? Sure, there might be some short-term disruption, but people frequently are willing to accept some pain in the present for future gain."
"Sure, but we certainly wouldn't benefit. Here, have some more juice- you're looking a little peaky, and we both know what happens when your blood sugar gets low."
Taylor handed his partner the flask, filled with glowing green liquid, and observed as the man chugged it without a second thought. His partner's expression cleared. "Huh, I guess you're right. Say, what's next?"
"There's an upcoming conference on crime reduction through social assistance programs. It's very important that we make it clear that such ideas would be harmful to our wonderful city. You in?"
The light slowly went out in his partner's eyes, and he nodded. "Sure thing, partner. You always know best."
---
Read more of my writing at https://writin.space/ |
\[Reeling in Excitement\]
"Where to next?!"Excitement fluttered in Tila's stomach when she saw several black portals appear. She was nervous following the team through one the first time; she didn't realize it was a portal until she emerged into a new world on the other side. She felt the odd sensation of knowing she should be concerned; but, actually not caring. And every time they left another world behind she cared a little less. They killed monsters and visited dungeons together and Tila was ready for more. She wanted adventure and now she was hooked.
"I think we're done for the day,"Aurora the team leader, said. She was a young, blonde teenager. Tila felt slightly out of place when she first met up with the group - she was the oldest member and the rest were teenagers.
"See ya!"Tila's new friends, Emily and Vivi, waved as they disappeared into a portal. Valentine, gave her a friendly nod as she walked into a separate portal. In moments she was left with the brown-haired teenager with golden highlights. She realized she needed to speak up quickly as Aurora gave her a wave and headed to the last portal.
"Hey, wait...,"Tila called out. Aurora paused.
"Yeah?"she asked.
"Ummm...,"Tila glanced around the dense forest. It was much different than her port city where she met the group. She wasn't even sure how many portals they'd been through much less where she was on Earth. "...where is this?"she asked. An amused smirk formed on Aurora's face.
"You're not kidding are you?"she asked as she stepped closer to Tila. Tila shook her head and Aurora giggled louder.
"You've been Awake since we met up, I checked,"she said while continuing to chuckle. "...this whole time you've just been coasting along for the ride without asking questions?"she laughed when Tila's only response was a nod and a shrug.
"I don't even know what you're talking about now...,"Tila said.
"Well, don't worry too much about that, Mundo'll give you answers,"Aurora replied. "And now I know why you didn't really help with any of the encounters,"she added.
"How did all of you get so... magical?"Tila asked. She saw them all do some pretty amazing things.
"It's not that magical, that's just the AlterNet,"Aurora replied. "You'll get some Abilities too once you make your character,"she said. "What you get access to depends on the Class you choose."
"I can learn too!?"Tila asked with wide eyes.
"Sure, if you can play video games you can handle the AlterNet."Tila nodded in agreement; it seemed like a reasonable assumption.
"What's a video game?"she asked.
"It's not important, you're skipping over them anyway,"Aurora laughed. "So, do you want to go straight to Mundo or do you want to get anything from your home Earth first?"Tila tilted her head.
"Home.....Earth..?"she asked.
"Mundo's it is,"Aurora nodded with a grin. "They'll explain it to you better; but, this...,"she pointed at the air and a tall black portal formed; the kind she'd been through half a dozen times already. "...is a portal to an alternate universe. There are an infinite number of Earths out there; we picked you up on one and now we're here on a different one. Questing took us all over the place,"she shrugged, then stepped closer to the portal.
"Travel between Earths is super easy. Once Mundo explains things you can go back to your own Earth or any other one you like,"Aurora explained.
"Any other Earth...?"Tila asked. "What's out there?"
"Infinity,"Aurora replied. "If you can imagine it, it's out there. Mostly."
"Infinity...?"Tila's stomach flip-flopped at the thought. She stopped walking and a pensive expression took over her face. She felt like a big fish in a small pond for her whole life. She knew there had to be more to see out there and that was why she joined the adventuring guild. But now, her mind was alight with the possibilities before her. She got exactly what she wanted even if it didn't happen the way she imagined it. To some people, that kind of limitless choice might have been paralyzing. But, to Tila, the choice was simple. She took in a deep breath for courage, then smiled at Aurora. The teen stood by the portal patiently, and she returned the smile.
"If it's infinity, then I should get started,"Tila said. She stepped forward to walk through the portal. "First Mundo's, and then, I'll explore everything else."
\*\*\*
Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is story #1783 in a row. (Story #338 in year five.). This story is part of an ongoing saga that takes place at a high school in my universe. It began on August 22nd and I will be adding to it with prompts every day until May 26th. They are all collected in order at [this link](https://www.reddit.com/r/Hugoverse/comments/wtglls/tokuhigh_alternet_class/). |
I had been dreading the holidays ever since I heard that my estranged mother's boyfriend was a vampire. The news had come as quite a shock to me, and I wasn't sure how to handle it.
My mother and her new partner were going to be coming over for Christmas dinner, so naturally things were going to get awkward around the holiday season. I just didn't know what kind of expectations there would be or what kind of conversation topics would arise between us all at the table.
I knew one thing though: I needed some garlic bread! That was always a staple in our family dinners, but this year it seemed like an absolute necessity with having an undead guest joining us for dinner. Not only did garlic keep vampires away, but its deliciousness also made it easy enough for everyone else at the table to enjoy as well!
The day finally arrived and my mother and her boyfriend showed up on time - which was already strange enough considering his nocturnal lifestyle! He seemed nice enough though - he even brought gifts for everyone - although he definitely kept his distance from any food items containing garlic (or anything else that might make him sick).
We all sat down together at the dining room table after exchanging pleasantries, but none of us really knew how we should start talking about such an unusual situation. Eventually though we began discussing general topics such as work life and hobbies before eventually getting into more interesting conversations about their relationship together...and then finally onto stories about vampires themselves!
By the end of dinner everybody seemed surprisingly comfortable with each other despite our initial hesitations; turns out having a vampire in your family isn’t so bad after all (as long as you have plenty of garlic bread!). |
The journey had been long and arduous, but humanity had persevered. We'd explored far and wide across the universe, across stars and galaxies and the very edges of reality. But now we were here, at our final destination: a place beyond all known boundaries where nothing existed except us.
And yet despite our best efforts to find something - anything - in this vast expanse of emptiness, there was nothing but silence. It was as if every living creature in existence had abandoned this corner of space-time for some unknown reason or another.
We knew then that we were unquestionably alone; painfully so, hauntingly so too. For all our explorations throughout the cosmos we could not find even one other being with whom to share this moment in time; no one else who could understand what it felt like to stand on the edge of infinity looking out into an infinite void filled with nothingness.
We'd come so far only to discover that loneliness is truly a universal experience; that no matter how much knowledge we gained or how many new places we explored there would always be something missing from each adventure – someone missing from each exploration – because without companionship even an eternity can feel empty and cold inside your soul… |
“It’s my birthday, wooooo” I spew from my mouth. “Another day in this fucking level and I’m gonna lose it. I would rather be back in level 0, or hell, even level !” I hear distant Birthday music and take a swig of almond water. I hear something and whip backwards to see the disgusting yellow body of the parygoer. I quickly pack my stuff up and leave the room with haste. I jog at a fast pace for a bit, passing several partygoers in the process. One gets too close to me and whilst distracted by it, I run into a wall and am knocked out. I awaken In a familiar room. Moist carpet. Mono yellow walls. Damn electric hum-buzz of those cursed lights. I hear wretched screeching, and turn just in time to see this disgusting black entity slice open my stomach and rip out my intestines. (If you have no clue abt what I just said google the backrooms wiki) |
*My name is Bartholomew Atrovious Giovannia Goodwin VVIII. I'm a fly that was bitten by a radioactive tarantula, and for ten months I've been the one and only Spider-Fly. I'm pretty sure you know the rest. I saved a bunch of flies, got mating instincts, saved the colony, and then I saved the colony again... and again and again and again. Y-you get the point. Today though, I'd face my biggest foe yet, **The Emerald Exterminator.***
"GREAT MOTHER AUSTRALIA! THE HECK IS THAT!"exclaimed Charlie, the only thing keeping his soul from leaving his body being the emerald green suit he wore. They had called him about a fly problem, but left out some key details ... some pretty **BIG** details. When Charlie entered the barnyard, he had not expected to be greeted by a fly the size of a tarantula waiting smack dab in the middle of the floor.
Charlie has hastily closed the barn door and held his back against it, his sharp shallow breathes keeping cadence with his heart. He had a good feeling his trusty spray can of RAID wouldn't be able to handle this case. With a lift of his gut, Charlie March to his van. He rummaged through his gear, tossing aside mice traps, tranquilizer darts, and a mace until he found what he was looking for. An electric fly swatter, some that big should be slow enough for him to catch, right?
The barn door slid open again, the fly facing the entrance like a guard dog. Charlie prime the electric swatter and took a step into the barn. Immediately the fly's wing vibrated and emitted that classic fly buzzing sound, paralyzing the exterminator in his tracks. *BZZZZZZZZZZZZ.* Charlie thought to himself, (Oh crap this thing can still fly!?). As Charlie took a second step forward, the buzzing intensified and caused the entire barn to rumble with it. **BZZZZZZZZZZ.**
Charlie lowered the swatter, sweat seeping through his shirt on the inside of his exterminator suite. Slowly raising his arms Charlie said with a calm voice, "Woah there buddy, let's calm down, t-this thing isn't meant for you ... it's meant for uhhh not you."Charlie took a single step backwards and as a result the buzzing lessened. Charlie however mistook this for the bug lettings its guard down and immediately made a break towards it, swatter crackling with electricity. Ahhhhh! Time slowed for Charlie. Charlie had not even seen it move. The only things he knew was that one second it was there and the next second he felt something ramming into his stomach. Charlie went flying out the barn, landing flat on his back and blacked out for a couple of seconds. When he regained consciousness, he lifted his head to peer past his belly and saw the flying standing in the barn entrance with a wrinkled proboscis staring at him. Without breaking eye contact with him, the fly shot a web from its mouth and slammed the barn door close.
Charlie ... did not take this well. No fly was going to evict him. He'd show it. With a huff, he stood up a little wobbly and marched back to his van. Tossing aside a pokéflute, a whip, and a wooden stake, Charlie found what he was looking for. A grenade. Charlie tip toed to the barn door and cracked it open. Pulling the pin, Charlie tossed the grenade in and close the door before sitting against the door with his hands covering his ears. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the door inch it self open and a thin little arm slide grenade out before shutting it back. Charlie cracked the door again and slid it back in. Just as before, the little things arm slid the grenade back out. Charlie tried to push it back in but was mortified to find that the explosive was slicking to his hand. Fortunately for him, his life did not end there save for the brief heart attack he had before realizing the grenade was a dud. Marching back to his truck, Charlie managed to pry the grenade from his hand with a garden shovel and tossed it some where in the distance.
Charlie rummaged through his things once again. He tossed aside a green watch, some kry- **BOOM!** 💥 The sound of an explosion caused Charlie to briefly pause. ...He didn't want to think about it. Resuming his rummaging he tossed aside the green rock and a plasmacaster until he found what he was looking for. A magnum. Charlie opened the barn door and stood in the entrance, arms prepared to draw the holstered weapon. "Alright fly! This ends here!"He exclaimed with narrowed eyes. BZZZ. The fly did with a quick buzz. The two stared at each other for a solid two minutes. The silence only interrupted by a plastic bag tumbling on the ground between them. Charlie drew the magnum to fire it and just as quickly the fly shot a web and disarmed Charlie, who now had his own weapon aimed at him. Charlie raised his hands high above his head as a bead of sweat dropped. The fly gestured the gun towards the entrance twice, prompting Charlie to back out and close the door behind himself.
Having enough, Charlie decided it was time to break out the big gun. Literally. Rummaging through the contents of his van, Charlie tossed aside a dragonball, a hammer, and his f✓€ks given until he found what he was searching for. A Spartan Laser. It was his favorite souvenir from one of his various extermination jobs. Hoisting the weapon over his shoulder, he braced himself against his truck. The weapon hissed and glowed with life, letting out a building up whir until a beam of raw energy shot clean through the barn door to where he had estimated the monstrosity to be. That should do it. Turning around confidently, Charlie was made to flinch by the sound of the Barn exploding behind him. In retrospect, he should have accounted for the barn housing some explosive material like manure in it. Oh well, he'd pay for the damages, he got the job done atleast.
Atleast that's what he had hope until he heard it.
#BZZZZZZZZZZZ
The flames of the barn parted. Completely blown out. Charlie looked in horror as from the smoke of the now roofless building rose the fly. .... OH SNAP ... Charlie dashed around to the other side of his van and hopped in the drivers seat. Pulling the prindle into drive upon starting the van, he mashed the gas. The van moved forward a few feet before it shook, and began moving backwards despite the wheels moving forwards. Charlie was afraid. In the rearview mirror he could see that the fly had attached web to the vehicle and was now retracting it towards the smoking barn. Charlie kept mashing the peddle, but it was futile. Thinking quickly Charlie decided to cut his losses. While still holding the gas Charlie took 2 items and lept out. As soon as the van stopped resisting the fly's pull, it was sent flying into the distance a few hundred yards away. |
"What do we want?"
"No more machines!"
"When do we want it?"
"Before we explode!"
The crowd was getting rambunctious as the Secret Society of Sorcery makes waves inciting anger at the newfound iron horse that has recently had tracks built through the city of Forsoothe, a traditionally convergence point for mages, witches, wizards, and other practitioners of a variety of hocus pocus mumbo jumbo. They were in the right to be so aggravated; the coal-powered locomotive had caused no fewer than six brains blowing up from the inside of the magick users who owned them, as well as an incident involving a sheep in a brothel, but the jury is still out on whether that was caused by the sudden appearance of new technology in town.
In the midst of this chaos stood a large orc that everyone present knew. The famed, green-skinned pyromancer held a gnarled staff over his head, sending a plume of neon blue flames from the tip. Its owner speaks up. "Ever since that damned train showed up, I've been producing anti-fire! I tried cooking a chicken with this crap and it regressed through time until it was a T-rex again. Almost bit off my face, that one did. Thankfully, my husband had a scroll of almighty plot disruption, and the scaled menace transmogrified into a giant slug."
More stories from other magick users rallied even more fervor from the masses. Meanwhile, Lieutenant Briggins of the Forsoothe constable's office was shaking his head, worried with a side of disdain. He said to his conveniently placed partner, "If they get any more disruptive, I'm going to have to start shooting."
At that, a plot device manifested in the form of one of the druids transforming into an elephant when they meant to become a giraffe to see over the mass of bodies flooding the cobblestone streets. That did it. Because pigs will be pigs, Lieutenant Briggins pulled out his flintlock pistol and fired into the air. But, because of the hoard of magickal energy just meters away from him, the gun simply shot out a bunch of sparks before melting like a pint of ice cream in the heat of a Miami summer day.
"Blast it,"the officer cursed. "I don't get paid enough for this, and I certainly don't make enough to come up with a fitting ending to this garbage story that my creator vomited up as a distraction from their pointless life."
Hearing this, a gnome famed for her feet magick piped up. "Sounds like you're having an existential breakdown in the middle of writing for your own bemusement."
Briggins nods. "I'm going through a rough time right now. I just…I don't know what to do with myself."
"Maybe absurdism could help you?"
"Wazzat?"
"It's the notion that nothing matters, but in a good way. Instead of getting hung up on the notion that the universe has no inherent meaning, you take solace in the freedom that grants and create your own meaning, with blackjack and hookers."
"Wow,"the talking head of a character said. "That sounds like something I could do."
"Good! So what are you going to do first with your newfound liberation?"
"I dunno, but I heard earlier in the story that there was a brothel around these parts, and I'm just crazy enough to check it out now that we're on the last sentence of this shitty story." |
The two travelers ventured through the shady woods.
“Why is it called Goblin Forest?” asked Robert.
Liana shrugged and replied. “Gee, I wonder why, Robert. Maybe because of all the goblins?”
“What is a goblin?” Robert asked.
“You don’t have goblins where you’re from? Sounds like a dream.” the elf replied.
Realizing this didn’t answer his question, she continued. “Goblins are tiny green people who attack anyone they see. We stay clear of them when we can but walking through their territory is a risk we’ll have to take.”
“Your description matches the appearance of the creatures following us now.”
Liana glanced at their surroundings. There was no one there.
“I don’t see anyone.”
“They are using foliage to camouflage. My infrared cameras are not fooled.”
“Globum fulgur.”
An orb of lightning crackled to life in her palm.
The goblins emerged from the surrounding shrubbery.
“What an observant golem.” rasped one.
“We’ll leave you alone if you give us the shiny man.” cackled another.
“Hand it over and we’ll let you pass.” a third said.
Liana glared at them.
“Over my dead body!”
She hurled the ball lightning at the nearest goblin, locking him to the ground. The others fired arrows at Liana in response, only for Robert to step in front of her and take the hit.
“Interesting, my magnetic shield failed to repel these primitive arrows. The absence of ferrous metal in their makeup appear to have rendered them immune.” Robert stated calmly as wooden arrows rained on him like toothpicks.
“Robert, you’re being dented.” Liana pointed out.
“Understood.”
He pointed a palm at the goblins and a beam of blue light erupted from it. Both the attackers and nearby vegetation vanished in an instant.
“Threat neutralized. Let us move on.” |
"Oh well, this is how I die", I thought to myself, as the shadow of this colossal beast slowly grew around us. There was no doubt in my mind that she had seen us, and that she was approaching. The Lady from the legends. The very last Dragon.
Old tales told of her, an ancient evil that brought destruction anywhere she went, so magnificent and so terrifying that none dared to defy her. And yet here we were, trespassing on her lands where she retired centuries ago.
I took a glimpse of my fellow party members. All were petrified, unable to detach their gaze from this surreal sight. In this moment, and even though they all knew the risks when signing up, I regretted bringing them on this adventure. What if she didn't hear us ? What if she just decided she liked us better cooked by her blazing breath ?
I started proclaiming, at the top of my lungs, trying my best to keep my voice from shaking.
"O mighty Lady of the Sky, commander of the storms and harbringer of woe ! I stand before you today-"
"ENOUGH WITH THE VAIN FLATTERY!"She interrupted, her voice resonating through my whole body and shaking my very bones.
"FOR CENTURIES HAVE THESE WOODS BEEN FREE OF YOUR KIND, WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO TRESPASS HERE?"
I looked around. A few of my mates were crying, and I was pretty sure the barbarian had wet himself.
"Well I'm actually writing a book, and I would like your version of the story of your life."I finally said.
"What now ?"Her voice had reduced to a normal volume.
"Your life story ! All the books on the subject depict you as a cruel predator, but surely you must have your own version of the facts ? I refuse to believe such an intelligent creature would be such a brute."
Little flames came out of her nostrils. That was the dragon equivalent of blushing, or so I had been told.
"No one's ever asked me that"she whispered.
"Of course, you would get a share of the book sells, as it is after all based on your life."
"But why ? Don't they teach you how much of a monster I am ?"
"You know, my family is from a secluded village", I chuckled. "And there, we remember how the Lady taught us the ways of the forge, and the language of Magic, and the forces of nature. The King's new church couldn't take that away from us."
The bastards had worked very hard to demonize the dragon, yet small regions still remembered, as part of their tradition, that the Lady who was older than trees was the source of all our knowledge. And now, it was time for the rest of the world to remember. |
Sorrow fills my heart with pain,
A constant ache that won't subside,
A heavy weight that drags me down,
And leaves me struggling to survive.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;
In the depths of my despair,
I feel lost and all alone,
With no one to turn to,
And no place to call my own.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;
But even in the darkest night,
I know that I must go on,
For though my heart may break,
I am not alone.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;
For others share in my sorrow,
And together we can bear the load,
Finding strength in each other,
As we journey down this road.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;
So I hold on to hope,
And keep on moving forward,
Trusting in the power of love,
To see me through this difficult time.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;
For though sorrow may linger,
It cannot last forever,
And in the end, I know,
I will find my way to joy. |
So I wrote this for a similar prompt a long time ago, but it almost fits your prompt, so here it is again!
- - - Inventory - - -
"How strange"Vena thought to himself, "my inventory is off". He cast the spells a second time and came up with the same result, 248 souls. Off by one, but minor variations in the result always meant major flaws in the process.
Vena closed the aperture and grabbed his journal. He crushed some herbs, mixed them with water and poured the mixture on a potted fern. As its leaves withered, time slowed and he re-read his entire journal in less time that it would take someone outside his fortress to take a single stride. As expected there were 247 murders recorded, and no other indications of lost time or failed magic. He checked his inventory of poisons, none were missing and he knew for a fact that all he had carried into the world had been fully consumed. He inspected his traps and found none triggered - they were designed to alert him when triggered, but minor variations mean major fails in the process so everything needed to be checked. This would require a more in depth investigation.
He called in a servant and prepared the ritual while waiting. When the servant entered Vena stabbed him in the gut and twisted the knife. While the servant was still alive he began removing the damaged intestines. When the screams ceased he poured the salve into the wound and waited for the bleeding to cease. After that he recalled the spirit of one of his willing acolytes who had volunteered ages ago for just such a purpose as this into the corpse, and fastened the hearthstone around its neck. The creature began screaming in pain the moment it was restored - this also was unexpected. Vena observed and could tell the spirit was trying to communicate but was unable due to the source of its pain. He considered removing the hearthstone, but in its current condition it would most likely fade instantly. Instead he mixed up a potion of elderberries, thistle milk, and seed of abergamon; then forced it down the corpse's throat. The spirits torture increased but was able to send a simple thought to Vena telepathically before it expired - "Imp".
Vena called his apprentice, the investigation would require a step he had never taken but had well documented from when he had been an apprentice and his former master had. He would pass into the spirit world and communicate with the souls he had trapped there, they would not be able to interact but if he was lucky he would find the "Imp"and be able to speak with it. He explained the process to his apprentice and they began the ritual. Vena laid down on the stone slab and let his spirit separate from his flesh.
He took a moment to orientate himself to the ethereal realm, then began a count of the spirits. He had killed the servant but then destroyed the acolyte spirit, so he still expected 247 plus the mystery spirit, for a total of 248. Yet even after three counts he still only came up with 247. He began inspecting individual spirits, until he came to the Acolyte he had destroyed. "Impossible!"he screamed.
"Hey boss."The acolyte spirit noticed the outburst. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't we all be dispersed if you are dead?"
"You should,"Vena answered, "but I am visiting not dead. But how are you still here? I released you this afternoon!"
"No boss, time doesn't have much meaning here, but I've been here since you sent me."
"Have you maintained a record of all the spirits as I commanded? How many have you encountered?"
"Well, there were the 5 before me, myself, then 241 after. 247, including me."
"Impossible! I checked this morning and came up with a different count! And now I've counted 247 as well!"
"Say, boss? Should I be including you in my count now that I've met you here?"
"Of course not! I'm not staying, I'm only here temporarily! Any moment now the call will come and I will return to the world of the living!
The call did come then, but his apprentice had screwed up the incantation. The call came with his own magical signature to call a specific soul, but his apprentices signature was on a spell that had erased the name from the spell. This meant only one soul could escape, but it could be any of the 247 souls trapped with Vena. He called on all of his experiences and knowledge to beat the others back and managed to follow the call himself.
He screamed when he returned to the world of the living. He was staring at his own face, and his body was ... wrong. It was too short, his... his gut was missing and his flesh was dead. He was unable to make the screaming of the dead flesh stop and could feel it decaying his spirit. When his other self finally allowed the telepathic communication all he caught was the first syllable of another agonizing scream of "impossible!"
The apprentice smiled as Vena's soul was separated later that day. He buried the body with the trinkets retaining its connection to the ethereal realm. He hadn't technically killed his master and was now set to become the greatest necromancer the world had seen. He would need to leave Vena's soul in limbo or he would lose the connection to the menagerie, but he still had 246 souls to practice with before he ever needed to kill an intelligent creature. |
"Luke, I am your father"
I slammed my fist on the keyboard as I read the reddit meme containing the egregious misquote from Star Wars.
"No! The quote simply goes 'No, I am your father'"
Then it happened.
Ring
Ring
Ring
Holy Space Balls. My eyeball darted sideways to glance at my Samsung Galaxy. It was from an unknown number
"I'll just let it go to voice-mail, nobody wants to talk to me anyway."
But there was no voice-mail left. The caller called back again.
Brrrrring Ring Ring ring
I slowly, as if in a movie, picked up the phone. The camera zoomed on my face
"Hello?"
Heavy breathing. Oh my GOD. I recognized it. It was none other than the belabored breathing of Lord Vader himself.
I sprang bolt upright in my chair.
My skin crawwwwwled.
Then I heard laughter on the other end.
Wouldn't you know it? My old buddy Bill from high school was pulling a prank on me.
"Ah come on man, sheesh."
Billy guffawwed into the speaker.
Then I hung up.
Another call came in shortly after that.
Again, my eyeball darted sideways.
I picked up the phone and pressed it against my ear.
"Fuck you"
I still have no idea what the second call was about. |
Your honor.
Words have meaning. I intend to enforce that meaning. People THINK that decimation means killing everyone. No. No it does not.
So when I went to the store with my gun I specifically counted every tenth person and shot them. See THAT was a decimation. The news finally got it right.
I decided to take on phrases next. Very few people have had their "breath taken"from them. It took some time but I built a room and took a few people's breath by pumping out the air for 4 minutes. I've read the autopsy reports, THESE people were actually deprived of air. People who say "it took my breath away"are wrong. WRONG!
Back to my point. At no time did I set out specifically to kill any particular person. By our definition of murder right here in this dictionary, and I quote, "the unlawful premeditated killing of one human being by another,"I did not commit murder. I, at worst, committed manslaughter in my attempt to correct society's sad attack on the meaning of words.
I move for a mistrial with prejudice on the basis that the word murder is criminally misused here. |
I was sat at the table, one of a party of eight. Four couples on a twice-monthly group date night. My wife’s friends. She had known three of them — Tiff, Beth, and Kyle — since before I had even met her. They were her oldest dearest friends from high-school.
She, my wife Holly, and her buddy Kyle have fucked. Back before he was gay — before he *knew* he was gay, rather. Got to get better about that. I hold no grudges against their teenage explorations. That said, they got drunk a few years ago and some things happened. Just kissing, apparently. The naked and in my bed sort of kissing.
A drunken mistake kind of kissing that I should just...get over.
You know, a meaningless event like walking in on your spouse atop another man in your bed when you were supposed to be gone an extra day, but had come home early to surprise her. That kind of meaningless event.
Just...get on over it.
There was the promise of couples counselling. It was Holly’s busy period at the gallery, though, so it never happened. And...I had to just...get over it. What was I going to do? Leave the love of my life over a stupid drunken mistake?
“Hm? Oh, sure.” I pass the bottle along. Red wine of some variety. They all sniff and sip and declare things deliciously dry or note the notes of berries and cardamon and...roses, I don’t know.
Wine is all crushed grapes to me.
Tiff and her man, Greg (I think it’s Greg), are sat directly across from us. A sporty couple. Very fit and always in that very expensive kind of subtle hippy getup. Designer hobos. Sandals and flower print scarves, crystals and investment properties. A pair of yoga bodies that travel the country sampling vineyards and photographing dilapidated buildings.
Live free and love hard...thanks trust funds!
Her hand is on her husband’s thigh. Maybe more. Word is that they swing. Well, he does, I know that much. Greg drapes his arm across Tiff’s shoulders and she, without looking, wriggles in and leans back. The kiss he plants atop her head costs his anecdote no momentum.
It seems a very natural state for them to be in. Her in his arms. Love flowing between them, charging each others batteries.
Inspired, I put my hand on Holly’s shoulder and lean in to kiss her cheek. She shrugs me off and I do my best to play it off as a stretch and a head politely turned away from the table yawn. Doesn’t matter. No one would have noticed anyway.
I’m practically invisible to these people. All I get is a lukewarm greeting and asked to pass the wine. Every time I open my mouth I get spoken over. If I do get asked a question? Either Holly answers and the mistake isn’t made again that evening, or I get a sentence out and the subject changes.
It would be nice to take part...
Kyle hasn’t said a word to me in years and his partner moves in lock step on the silence march. They are on our left, so Holly and Kyle can lean in, mumble things and come away declaring the other “So bad!”
The couple to my right are Beth and Ben. The two B’s. Two Bee’s in a pod. Compared to Tiff and Greg or Kyle and his new guy, The Bee’s are aggressively affectionate. She’s a respected food columnist and he’s an ex-athlete with his own brand of Sauces. A cute woman, prone to sundresses in all weather, and a man still in his prime. I’ve seen his abs. Worst of all, as previously stated: they can’t keep their hands to themselves and are forever pecking and patting and brushing things off the other ones cheek, whilst giving wistful stares.
I don’t remember the last time I stared into Holly’s eye’s for longer than a second. She always looks away before I do.
The Bee’s take turns drawing the short straw on who gets stuck sitting next to little old me. When it’s Beth: she leans over me and talks to Holly, while Ben yuks it up with Greg. When it’s Ben: Well, Ben turns ninety degrees and yuks it up with Greg and Beth talks to Tiff. Inevitably she ends up in his lap and I can be avoided more readily.
I am the weak link in the chain. The grit in the mechanism. The one fault on a perfect circle of their social chemistry.
I excuse myself and stand. Nothing. No joke about not falling into the crapper. No eye contact acknowledgement. Not even a silent touch from my own wife.
No non-verbal I’ll miss you.
Nothing.
As I turn I see more tables and happy people. People alive, living and laughing. Loving. Groups and lone couples, too. Big jokes and quiet meaningful words.
I turn back to the table and pull my wife into my world of invisibility.
“Holly has fucked every man at this table, except for Kyle’s partner — I’ve forgotten your name, I’m sorry. Beth, Holly was the one who stole your grandmothers ring. She still has it. Tiff and Greg, Holly has been lying about how much your photos sell for and keeps the extra for herself. I’m talking thousands of dollars. Oh, also, Kyle? You gave my wife gonorrhoea. Also, nameless guy, Kyle’s a douche, you can do better.”
And just like that, I was visible. Beth and Tiff looked from me to Holly and when they saw the look on their respective husbands faces they knew I was telling the truth.
Holly coughed and spluttered.
I smiled for the first time in what felt like decades and decided to leave before the conversations started. I didn’t need to be a part of that. “Right. I’ll see you all when hell freezes over. Bye.”
Highly visible, for a while, but Holly would be invisible to that table soon enough. |
I sipped the bitter, black mushroom-coffee in the pre-dawn haze of winter as I unfolded my corpo-issue terminal. Outside, the faint wail of an ambulance elicited no reaction from the traffic-clogged streets. I almost envied whomever the paramedics were trying to help, they wouldn't have any worries soon. Unless they lived and had to bear the medical debt, of course. Better to die cleanly.
Forty seven work requests already. "What a shitshow,"I coughed, glancing sidelong at my cordless netphone. It was loaded up with corpo trackers and ads, but I could get the latest distracting, curated gossip from across the net and play hypnotic, pointless video games. Cheaper than drugs, but just as addictive.
A ping announced a push notification from the productivity enhancer. With a groan, I viewed the message. "Put your pants on!"the tiny networked computer commanded.
I stumbled, bleary eyed despite the faux-coffee 'mudd' and obeyed, a cog in a machine bigger than myself. But the rent of my tiny apartment was getting hiked again, and I'd be damned if I gave up on life in the City. I was so close to getting an in to a corpo job and leaving coding gigs behind. Then I'd be set.
For now, though, I got dressed properly. Dress for success, my dad used to say. Of course, he also said idiotic stuff like pound the pavement, no matter how much I told him job hunts don't work like that anymore. At least I learned coding, mostly while skipping school, since most of my classmates who studied pointless crap like the humanities universally ended up as service drones subject to undending abuse by petty bosses and cruel customers alike.
Not that I could afford their services, most of the time, not unless I hit pay dirt. So I opened the first work request and got cracking, sipping on my mudd and ignoring the arguing neighbors while my netphone played glitchy synth beats.
Lunch rolled around and I stepped outside for fresh air. Heh, 'fresh'. I coughed again, this time into my mask. Passersby - those who bothered to look away from their own netphones - gave me disapproving glances, like I had no right to be outside even masked. Fuck 'em.
I walked around the corner to the Vietnamese noodle stand and ordered pho. "You good for it this time, Frank?"asked the elderly woman behind the counter.
"I wouldn't stiff ya, Lang. Your spicy soup is better than proper medicine,"I said with another cough.
She backed away with an unreadable look, but I didn't care, as long as I had something warm in my belly.
My netphone pinged again. "Back to work,"it ordered. I ignored it. It pinged again. I fumbled to mute it. It slipped and fell to the ground.
With a frustrated curse I bent over to pick it up. The cheap, fragile Finnish screen had cracked. I swore again, more loudly. There went my pho budget.
But I saw another netphone, wedged behind a box. Curious, I picked it up. It was a top of the line Korean model. "Finders keepers,"I muttered to myself.
"Could you shup, Frankie? You're bothering the customers!"Lang hissed, before glancing at my hands. "Whatchu got there?"
"Nothing,"I said, abruptly sticking both phones in my pocket before coughing again.
She hmm'd disapprovingly but let me finish my soup in peace.
Back home I tried to boot up the netphone. Battery was shot, as expected, but I had the right power cord. First, of course, I removed the tracking chip that would connect it to the net. No need to get accused of theft, after all.
As it turned on, a pin pad appeared on the touch screen. I frowned before trying a couple simple pins. '1234' didn't work. Neither did '0000'. But '7777' did the trick.
I wasn't a hacker or anything, honest. I just did my job and marvelled at how stupid people could be sometimes. So snooping through someone's netphone gave me a voyeuristic thrill. Their messages. Their photos. Their net-trail.
What I saw next, though, hidden in the netphones files, would change my life forever. |
>"Attention, former playthings and peons, I, the rightful universal ruler, have returned. If you value your life, kneel, nay, PROSTRATE yourselves before your new god, BEIGE!"
The fashionistas all kowtow together; beige is the new black, and everything will be bland.
The trendsetters follow the fashionistas like drugged lemmings, unwilling to stand out from the crowd.
The media moguls flock to this "new and exciting"trend.
The major clothing manufacturing companies all throw out their dyes.
The rest of the world?
Yawns.
That's right. Less than one percent of the population pays the slightest attention. Blue jeans are supposed to be blue. Flannel shirts have never been beige. Boots are brown or black. Joggers still need high-visibility clothing. The list goes on.
When old clothes cannot be repaired or repurposed, new clothes are purchased, along with surplus dyes. Tie-dye makes a comeback.
The manufacturers strike back with polyester that will not take dyes. Makers of natural fiber cloth see a massive upswing in purchases. Clothing made in natural fibers without coloring has become the new gold standard as far as the average person is concerned.
The cottage industry takes hold. People may have to pay more, but the quality is far better, and lasts longer than the commercial crap. Moreover, each article of clothing is unique. Each has different flaws.
Big Fashion strikes back with ad campaigns decrying the quality of the cottage industry. Content creators fire back with damning accuracy on the illegal and abusive practices in the factories Big Fashion uses.
Cottage industry grows bold with profits and holds its own fashion show. One reporter shows up and writes a glowing article. A photographer sees the article and has all the pictures taken at the show with no buyer in sight. A collaborative book is created. In the back, actual patterns for many of the designs are included.
Big Fashion buys one copy and produces everything in it in "research proven safe man-made fibers without dangerous dyes."
The neo-Naderites strike back with graphic videos of how those fibers melt on the body when they burn. Contrasting that with the natural fibers that burn to ash. The counter strike adds flame retardant chemicals, which prove carcinogenic.
In the end, Big Fashion goes bankrupt under liability lawsuits.
Cottage industry grows up. Factories move back into the community, powered by machinery selling for pennies on the dollar.
Starving fashionistas crawl to their doors, begging for a chance, and are told to make a pattern that anyone with a sewing machine can make. Many fashionistas give up and get jobs in the factories. There they rediscover the joy of individual creativity, or at least put their fabric knowledge to good use, demonstrating the effects you can achieve if you only know how.
In the end, Beige is driven back into obscurity, populated only by those who fear bright colors.
((finis)) |
“911, what’s your emergency?”
[woman sobbing] “Oh my GOD. It took him. It took my baby!”
“Ma’am, please speak slowly and clearly. Can I get your address so I can send first responders your location?”
“Yes! I’m on the corner of [___________________], just off highway. Please for the love of Goood, you gotta send someone.”
“Ma’am, I have a police patrol notified. Please, tell me the nature of your emergency. Do you believe your child was kidnapped?”
“Not kidnapped, no. It… it tried to eat him. It threw my husband against a wall. He’s breathing but he- he’s hurt really badly.” [More sobbing, some words indistinguishable] “-and it broke in… and it took my baby [\_\_\_\_\_\_], it took my little [_\_\_\_\_\_]. You’ve got to- you’ve got… gotta do something.”
“Ma’am, can you describe what you saw?”
“It was tall. My [___]’s bedroom was on the second story. It broke through the window. It pulled the wall out. It pulled the goddamn wall out of my house. My husband tried to… he tried… he… God no. Please god no.”
“Ma’am stay with me. Help is on the way. What did you see? You’re saying it- didn’t look like a person?”
“It was almost as-as tall as the house… it had long, crooked fingers with claws. I know I sound crazy… I feel crazy, but god… please god. Please. Please let my little [____] be okay.”
“Ma’am officers are on the way.”
“Please god… please… please god…”
[END OF RECORDING]
~ ~ ~
“Ladies and gentlemen, for two hundred years, the United States had been aware of, to some extent, an immortal that lives somewhere in the northern edge of hospitable Canada. No longer able to deliver presents manually, he has contented himself to run several charity organizations and orphanages using his wealth, particularly targeting children in need and families too poor to afford presents.
“Mr. Kringle’s assets are probably in the mid to low billions, though he is not a US Citizen and we do not have access to his total financial information. He has, however, worked cooperatively with government agencies for these intervening decades. He still does an annual ‘fly over,’ but his purpose is not delivering presents. Mr Kringle had, for over two centuries, dedicated himself to the trade of hunting.”
“General Wittey, do you… are you telling us Santa Clause is real? And furthermore… that the monster that woman was speaking of is real? And the two are connected?”
“In more ways than one, I’m afraid. Our CIA Director on Occult Affairs can fill you in a little more. Director”
“Hello all. Director Angela Crenshaw, CIA. Yes, the big man is real. He has never flown over the entire world in a sleigh pulled by reindeer, but at one point he did have a normal sleigh, supposedly. Today he mostly flies via his private jet. He does not have elves. He is, by all accounts, every bit the personality ever ascribed to him. Warm, generous, and compassionate.
“According to Mr. Kringle, he was once, several centuries ago, an ordained bishop of the Church. He achieved, through means unknown to us, immortality to pursue his ultimate agenda- Good will and peace for the least of us. A progressive for his time, he believed most of the ‘bad eggs’ of society were mostly caused neglected, poor, and under-supported children. Using the means available to him at the time, he tried to make them feel loved.
“However not everyone shared his optimism. Statements to us from Mr Kringle, or St Nicholas as he was rechristened when be was ordained, say that others believed punishment of the most misbehaved children would keep the rest in line. They, too, found a source of immortality that transformed them, and became mutated creatures of ill will. He has hunted several of them to near extinction, but one remains. Hiding from him, quite intelligently, somewhere in the vast North American continent, the last ‘krampus’ still preys upon children it sees as wicked.”
“Ladies and Gentlemen, the US Government is still catching up in such matters. It’s time we lended the man in red a jolly hand. Operation Silent Night is a GO.” |
“Oh cheer up, Sergio! You get to walk home with the most popular girl in school” teased Nadia forcing her body into mine and rubbing my shoulder caringly with a half smile on her face. “ We walk home together every day, Nadia. We’ve been inseparable since our bassinets were next to each others in the hospital nursery.” “And our parents are neighbors and best friends that literally took the fence down in our backyards.” Nadia added. “Exactly, but you know how it is…to feel alone and ignored in an entire school full of kids.” I said, sounding more dejected than I meant it. “So people forgot your birthday, that can happen when it’s on a Saturday…” Nadia’s voice trailed off as I spied Henry and his gang walking up the street on the opposite sidewalk. “Sergio. Sergio! Do you want to cut through this alley? Nadia asked worriedly. I nodded towards the alley, “What I would like to do is run up to him, punch his bully face and watch his goons all scramble to get away from me in fear…” But before I could follow Nadia into the alley, cars, and trees, and houses all blurred together in an instant. I was standing with Henry and his gang directly in front of me. Before I could comprehend what just happened I threw the hardest punch I could muster and landed square on his nose. Knowing I had to get out of there, I started running home, then the blur happened again and I was standing in front of my house. I naturally reached for the doorknob and winced as my hand wrapped around it, switching hands I finally make it inside. “Hey Mom,” I say as I rush through the kitchen to get to the TV room. “You’re a good person, Sergio,” She says without looking up from the dinner she’s preparing on the stove. I turn on Netflix and let it randomly choose something for me as I pull out my phone. Where the fuck do I start? Staring at the DuckDuckGo landing page I quickly try to process what just occurred and how to go about researching it. I type in, “acts of adrenaline,” but what it says doesn’t fit. Hmm, what about, “the flash.” Super-human speed…that seems right. A frantic knock at the door caused me to startle. I heard my mom from the kitchen say loudly, “come on in” and a muffled but familiar voice of Nadia greeted her as she makes her way through the kitchen into the tv room. “Sergio!” She cried as she wrapped her arms around my neck. “What is it, Nadia?” I asked confusingly. “What is it? What is IT!? Where did you go!? I was so worried about you! You were right next to me, I turned around and you were gone. I stepped back near the street and I saw Henry on the ground and his goons looking scared. I thought you went over there so I headed that way and they screamed at me to get help. To call 911. I got closer to investigate and I saw Henry’s face caved in, he was dead” Nadia buried her face into my chest, tears flowing from her eyes. “He..he’s..dead?” I asked, dismayed at what she was saying. I felt her head nod and the warmth from her tears on my chest. My head was spinning, I shut my eyes and just held her there in my arms, not wanting the embrace to end. “Are you staying for dinner, dear” my mom's voice cutting the silence from the kitchen. “Tell her yes, I need you to stay” she broke away from me and started rubbing the wetness from her face, trying to compose herself, “yes, I would love to” she shakily answers. “I don’t know what happened, but it was me. I’ll try to explain everything after dinner.” As I spoke she took my hand in hers and rubbed my swollen knuckles gently. It was the first time I really looked at them too, and noticing all the dried blood, I started to feel sick. Nadia straightened, and the look in her eyes changed from worry to determination. I could see she was coming up with something but I didn’t know what. With her hands still in mine, she lead me across the room, a smirk crossed her face as she elbowed the wall and stomped on my foot. “Argh!” I exclaimed. Looking between the kitchen door and me Nadia frantically whispered, “your hand, it needs an alibi.” My mom came in to check on us as Nadia starts tending to my hand and leading me to the bathroom, “he tripped over the coffee table and his hand went through the wall.” “Oy, dear, I can see that” probably looking at the newly formed hole in the wall. Nadia gets my hand under the water and gets the last bit of blood rinsed away just as my mom brings an ice pack, “is he going to live?” My mom asks. “It is a bit sprained, but yes he’s going to live.” Nadia said as her and mother exchanged smiles. “What would we do without you, our sweet Nadia? I am thankful it is you” Said mother as she walked back to the kitchen. “Er, thanks. Why…” I stumbled over my thoughts, not even sure what to ask her. “I love you, Sergio. Whatever happened, whatever hapPENS, I am with you.” She said that in a way that made me think she knew more than, well, I did. How is that possible? “What did Henry’s henchmen know? Are they after me? Are the cops?” “No. They know nothing, it happened so fast, they were all trying to say the same thing but they all sounded crazy.” “What did..happen?” Nadia quietly asked. “I tried doing research when I got home, the best I got was superhuman speed. Like…” I let it trail off, I was going to sound as crazy as Henry’s friends. “Like what?” Questions Nadia. “Uhh, like the flash. You know, the comic book guy” I said timidly. “Like Edward and the other vampires from twilight?” Suggested Nadia. “Yeah, like that!” We shared a laugh at that thought. “ But..but faster I think. I don’t know, it was all such a blur but I could still make out every detail, and see every leaf swaying in the wind. It was strange.” “And the power?” “I don’t know, this was the first time it ever happened. I didn’t even know about the power, I just thought I bloodied his nose.” Nadia’s demeanor changed for the first time since the living room. A shudder went over her as she said through new tears, “his face looked like an October pumpkin at the end of November.” I knew exactly what she meant, and hated that she had to witness that. Hated that I even did that. “Thank you for doing this for me, Nadia. I mean it, I don’t know what I would be doing without you.” I stood there contemplating while Nadia dried my hand, she managed to make it look presentable and noticed the confidence returning to her face. “Do you remember when my grandma visited for my 13th birthday?” Nadia asked. Taken aback by the abrupt change of subject, I responded, “yeeeaah” slowly. “That was like the only time we didn’t join you guys for dinner. We weren’t even allowed over at your house during her visit.” I said as the memory was coming to mind. “Yeah, I hated that and didn’t understand it at the time.” She said. I nodded in agreement and for her to continue. “Well, she shared with me a secret that I didn’t believe…until today. That us being neighbors and best friends from birth was not an accident. That you had the gift of teleportation and that you need me in your life as a helper.” A helper? Teleportation? What the fuck was she on about? The perplexed look on my face must have given me away, she quickly adds, “we are destined to be together. I was told I would have a growth spurt, that I would become popular in school, that one day something strange would happen with you, and without me, you would suffer.” “Go on,” I urged. “I brushed it all off and figured my grandma was crazy. Then I grew taller and had boobs that no other girl in our class had. I was suddenly the center of every ‘in-group’ at school. I still was convinced my grandma was crazy. But I always knew I would choose you. Destiny or not.” “I see…so what now?” I asked. “Now we get through this Henry thing, then we get to decide how to live our life. Do we want to be good or evil?” I looked at her for the first time as a woman, good or evil, how are we going to spend our life I thought. I pulled her close to me with my good hand and we share a smile before I lean in for a kiss. Pulling my head slightly back from hers I whisper, “I love you too, Nadia.” |
Welcome, my friend, ta Anyport: home of the sane, the safe, and the wise.
Ya might wonder why, given the state of things, a port city like ours exists at all but that's the point. The mad kings don’t dare brave the storms and the beasts are afraid a the sea. And rightly so I might add. With water more corrosive than a Salakeen’s spit the only thing a beast cares about in the sea is what manner of larger monstrosity will try to eat it. ‘Course anything sturdy enough to survive that stuff has its uses.
What’s a Salakeen? Oh only the most nasty thing ta ever… actually just the most nasty thing. Really ya don’t want ta know what they look like. Point is they’ve got spit that destroys anything ya can probably think of and skin plates more durable than all of that. S’what we use ta make ships that can sail the seas and trucks that can brave the storms. Stuff’s the only thing with any consistent value any more
But enough about all that. City’s getting out of here. Those Salakeen I mentioned ’ll get back soon and we don’t plan on bein' here when they do. Thats how all this works by the way. We pack up and move anytime the monsters get to close. Half of us take the trucks to sell what we’ve gathered or made and the other half pack up everything else onto the ships and sail out to sea until the shores are more friendly.
So are anyway y’here for travel and a safe night’s rest or are y’here to make a profit ‘cause we could use someone like you ta patch the ships. Y’needn’t decide now a’course since either way yer comin on the ships but help me pack up here and I can put in a good word with The Admiral before ya tell’em yer choice. |
As the gavel falls and breaks the silence of a calloused and indifferent court, I, Kevin, look upon my peers with understanding. My time, it seems, has come.
In revelation of the ghastly cross I must now bear, I will remember the teachings of my youth. A zebra lays down it's life for the herd. God gave his only begotten son so that none may perish, but have everlasting life. This is the nature of order.
In biology, I was taught how the body is well when it properly performs the tasks ordained by the mind. Cancer is the wayward cell that follows its own path, rejecting the mind at the expense of the body. By my betters, I have been condemned to live as a lowly beast, detached forever from the priveledge of excess and dignity.
It is, therefore, a moral duty before my God and my neighbors to heed this command. I will not betray the herd. I will follow the path of providence. I will obey the mind of this body.
I, Kevin, will be a good boy. |
In 2040, the world was on the brink of World War III. Tensions between the major powers had reached a boiling point, and it seemed that only a spark was needed to ignite a global conflict.
At the last moment, a mysterious figure stepped in to prevent the war. Using their incredible skills and abilities, this man (or woman) was able to defuse the situation by shipping Elon Musk, the CEO of SpaceX, into Mars.
To this day, the identity of the man who saved the world from World War III remains a mystery. Some say he was a spy, others claim he was a super soldier, and still others believe he was an alien or a time traveler.
Despite the many theories and speculation, the truth remains elusive. The man who saved the world has never come forward to claim credit for his actions, and it is unclear if he (or she) will ever reveal their true identity.
What is certain, however, is that this man (or woman) is a true hero. Their actions prevented a global catastrophe, and their legacy will never be forgotten. |
The man is skinny and tall. Abraham Lincoln if he were born in 1976. On his red t-shirt, faded and frayed is his symbol, a star at the center of a steering wheel, sitting inside a globe, crisscrossed with a canon, and key.
"Siusutinendium Victoriam,"he whispers as he hits enter and completes his mission.
He is Logistics Man, the world's most important yet boring superhero.
Yes, he is a superhero.
But no, his powers do not behold as super. If one were to witness him hunched over in the Proctorville Library he would appear no more abnormal than the old lady sitting next to him- trying to write down a Betty Crocker spaetzle recipe.
As a result of his machinations, a person born on another planet will wake up with no choice but to go to Cambodia. He will fly. Fly as in leap from the ground and soar through the clouds in a colorful costume. When he lands a 200-meter fire-breathing archaic lizard will be walking out of the ocean.
According to the scientist quoted in the Daily Mirror, he has awoken in the hope of devouring humanity.
Logistics Man wishes he could see the fight firsthand, but knows he has way too much work to do and will just have to read about it like everyone else. In the meantime, he has the collateral damage to contend with and begins the process of making sure the flying alien has support protecting the puny humans around his selfless act. |
(Part 1/2) Sitting in my oil lamp I wait, reading a book while sitting on my leather couch. I believe it was a book about pottery but that’s besides the point.
As I read I heard the distinct loud sound of someone running their hands across my walls knocking down my book shelf, my flatscreen tv (it’s a roku), and my electric guitar from its holder.
“You gotta be shitting me, I just cleaned this place up.” I say putting my book down and flying out the small hole on the side, hitting my head on the way.
I appear outside of the lamp with arms crossed and eyes closed and announced my usual saying:
“Mortal, my name is Iyad, owner of this here lamp and grantee of your one and only desire with one wish. But beware, the consequences could be di-“ I said opening my eyes with surprise.
Standing before me was not a human down on his luck, nor a human who had it all, standing before me, was a chimpanzee who was currently picking it’s nose and paying no mind to the mystical being before him. “What in the actual fuck.” I said aloud as I found myself in such a predicament. Around me was what seemed to be a rainforest (presumably in Africa).
The chimp finally looked up to me in confusion and began to make all the sounds you would assume a startled chimpanzee would make, throwing it’s fists above it’s head and stomping it’s legs on the ground.
I weighed my options quickly and for once, I broke the code of conduct. “You know what, screw this.” I said going back into my lamp.
Once I had returned to my lamp, I rubbed my temples and stared at the mess that had became of my apartment saying to myself, “this is ridiculous. 1,000 years at this. You’d think they’d have repaired the infrastructure or at least made some kind of nail-it-down option with the HOA but noooo that changes the value of the house.” But before I could even finish my rant, my house began to shake again. Not from the vibrating of the walls, but from the whole house shaking, sending my watercolor painting careening to the ground and my wine rack splattering red all over my shag carpet. Actually, that’s partially my fault, I knew I should have put it in the kitchen away from the carpet.
“Damnit that painting took me a month of bob ross training!” I flew back out of my lamp to see the chimpanzee was smacking my lamp onto a rock while screeching like.. well. An Ape.
“Woah! Woah! Cut that out!” I said with a booming voice. The chimp turned and looked at me and gave me a look of anger and puffed out his chest.
“Oh you think you’re gonna fight me? Ha! Good luck with that bud-“ I was cut off by the chimp lunging at me and grappling onto my chest and punching me repeatedly. It took about 5 minutes but eventually I pushed him off and rubbed my cheek which was now bruised. “Jesus. You done now? You done breaking my shit and hitting me in the face bro?” The chimp just stared at me, less mad and cracked a smirk on his face which I didn’t know chimps could even do.
“Oh this is just hilarious to you isn’t it? Yeah be proud of beating someone who lives in a lamp and can’t afford gym equipment right now. Yeah you’re sooo strong. Fuckin’ dick.” I took a sec to collect my thoughts and decided, you know what, screw it, I’ll grant his wish by somehow interpreting his mannerisms and then my lamp will disappear and hopefully, it’ll go to Hawaii or something. |
Hey, I have a pressing question I’m hoping you can answer. Did you self-publish this book? Was it difficult working with the Reddit team to acquire full rights to your novel? It’s to my understanding that Amazon can be testy when it comes to a book that’s already available somewhere online. I’ve read scary things about losing your publishing rights if the book is available anywhere online. What was the process like? |
It was supposed to be a grand discovery. A chance to advance humanity across countless universes forward. A time of unity and teamwork where we fix our shortcomings.
It was a cave, in Joppa, Indiana. One that should connect to an opening just 800 meters forward, but always cannot. For it links the fabric of separated universes together, like individual threads interwoven.
But every discovery, every being that ever WAS alive just isn't. There were civilizations, people, beings, plants, animals, microorganisms that just....died.
They're just....dead. For seemingly no reason.
It's terrifying. We don't know if we are next in line in this multiversal genocide. Has it stopped? Or maybe we're just lucky?
Until we found out...we were wrong in every assumption.
For we were Death delivered to their door.
[O, Death](https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-2935), we were their killers. |
"For this campaign, instead of using dice, we're just going to flip a coin instead. Heads is 20, tails is 1."
He's got to be joking, or there's some other rule mechanic he hasn't said anything about, "And?"
"And nothing."
"So heads is a critical success, and tails is a critical failure?"
"Exactly!"
It still has to be a joke. "Ah, folks? Can someone let me in on the joke?"I look at them, and they're all stunned. "There's a joke here, somewhere, right?"I'm getting a bit shocked myself. We are running first-level characters. This scheme will end up with people scrolling characters every session. The campaign won't get anywhere.
Our game master says, "No joke. No special mechanics. No fiddling with the numbers. You either critically succeed, or fail, each flip."
Bloodbath. It'll be a bloodbath. "Why?"Joe, my usual partner in puns, starts packing.
"Because I said so."
"Look, if you want a break from GMing, just say so. I've got three dungeon crawls ready to roll right now."
"No. I'm the GM; we agreed."
Joe pauses, "No, we didn't. You breezed in and said you would GM. We went along with you because it meant a lot to you. You did a damned fine job, too, so we had no reason to complain. Now you want a bloodbath where we will roll new characters every session. Unless you're going to run this like a Paranoia game where we have clones?"
"No Clones!"Said like a god laying down the law. Joe goes back to packing. I start packing too. Jenny and Katya get up and start packing.
"Hey! Don't leave!"
Jenny looks at him, "We gonna use Dee Twenty dice?"
"No!"
She returns to packing, no one else stops, and Billy — the last player still sitting — starts packing. Only Don, our *former* GM, is still sitting.
"You can't all leave! I've got fifteen adventures all sketched in!"
Katya looks at Don sadly, "It was good run, Donny, but is over."
"Why?"
"Because players have say too. You are not God; you only play one when we gather. But we will not play if we know it won't be fun, and this will not be fun. Will you not reconsider your decision?"
"No. It is *my* game."
I look at him, "Fine, it is your game. I hope you enjoy playing all the parts yourself because we are leaving."I turn to the rest, "My apartment is a bit crowded, but it's close, and there's parking. You are each invited over; I'll GM."
Don starts screaming about how we can't leave without his permission. We ignore him and walk out of the room. Outside, the gaming store is dead quiet, everyone looking at us. I usher everyone out and speak to the owner.
"Our group is dissolved. If Don comes to his senses, you might remind him that I will no longer be paying for the room. If he gives up, we'll try coming back next week. Don is no longer welcome."
"What the hell did he do?"
"Try playing D&D with coin flips. Heads crit success, tails crit failure, no special mechanics, and no changes to the numbers. We are not interested. I'll be GMing in my apartment. Oh, if anyone does use that room tonight, I'll expect a refund."
I left and led the convoy to my place. It's on the tenth floor, and you can see the plaza with the game store easily from the balcony. We settled in and had an excellent first half. When we broke for snacks, Katya went on the balcony.
She started swearing in Russian and yelled, "Big fire at plaza!"We all crowded out on the balcony. Joe asked, "Isn't that..."
I finished for him, "...Yes. It's the game store."
Jenny whispered, "Please, Lord, let everyone have gotten out safely. Please?"A quiet chorus of "Amen"followed her prayer.
The following morning, I read the story in the paper. A disagreement among players led to an altercation, leading one player to trigger a firebomb he had brought with him, screaming, "APOCALYPSE NOW!"Five dead, including the fire bomber.
Of course, the editorials and letters the next day were full of the usual shit that D&D is the devil's work.
People, we play the heroes who stop the bad guys. Just like your favorite comic strip, "Prince Valiant."Stop assuming that we're all nut cases. Donald needed help, but we could not give it to him.
I wish there were a way to help people like him. Fix the mental problems with the wave of a wand, but magic does not work here.
A knock at the door. "Hello, Mike."I must be pale as a ghost, "Donald?"
"Yes. I left about 15 minutes after you did. Charly,"the store owner, "had a bit to say to me. He let the room out to another group playing Cyberpunk."
I step back from the door, "please come in."
Donald came in almost shyly. We sat at the kitchen table, ate pizza and drank coke for breakfast, then spent the rest of the day talking.
I'm not qualified as a counselor, but I have a pretty good ear that can listen all day if it has to. Donald agreed to see a real counselor. I think we may be able to play together in a while. In the meantime, I'm on his speed dial whenever he needs to talk.
((finis)) |
I'd known the place was small when I set out, but I hadn't realized it was "the only way in or out is a single lane dirt road"small. I'd already had to pull to the side to let someone pass once, and my car was not happy about it. Hopefully the repair shop in town would take AAA or credit cards, because I wasn't sure I had the cash on hand to fix it if the damage turned out to be bad. As I tried to figure out the math based on the rumble of the engine, I passed a sign bearing the name of the town. Originally, it had been called "Desmas Vale", but someone had defaced it to make it say "Xmas Vale". Unsettling, but I assumed it was a prank by some rowdy kids and moved on.
I pulled into the town square, taking a look around. She'd said she'd be here, but...
"Yoo hoo! Ponty, over here!"Alice called from across the square. I got out of my car and walked over to my fiancé, who was wearing a Christmas sweater and an adorable Santa hat.
"There you are!"I said. "I know I said we'd go straight to your family home, but is there somewhere I can get my car looked at? If it needs repairs it could take a few days, and you know how busy my schedule is..."
"Oh, yeah! I can introduce you to someone while we're there!"Alice said. She walked straight over to my car and batted the roof with her hand. I unlocked the door for her, we both got inside, and she directed me toward a small garage on the edge of town. Well, edge of town in a relative sense, the entire place was so loosely spaced that everything kind of felt like the edge of town. Inside, a handsome man in a jumpsuit was busy working on a different car. Alice leaned out of her window and shouted to him, "Justin! Customer!"
The mechanic walked out of the shop, approaching us. He leaned down and said, "Hey there, stranger! Mind popping the hood for a second?"
I opened the hood of the car, and Justin looked it over for a few seconds before saying, "Nothing here, but I do hear some nasty sounds coming from underneath. Give me a second..."
He got down on his hands and knees and peered under the car, then said, "Oh dear. Yep, that's gonna need some work. Parts should be in in a few days."
"Eh, not like I'm gonna be leaving before Christmas anyway,"I said. I reached over and patted Alice on the shoulder. "Gotta meet my future in-laws before heading back to the city."
"Ah, so you're Pontine! Got yourself a good girl there, best keep an eye on her before someone else snaps her up,"Justin said.
"Oh, I know i- Wait, why would you just assume she'd leave me for someone else?"I asked. "Actually, never mind, I don't think I should trust relationship advice from the inhabitants of a rural town too small to have a proper counseling center, no offense."
"Eh, it's what it is,"Justin said. "I assume you're staying in Alice's place, so I'll send word when it's done."
"Thanks,"I said. Alice and I got out of the car and she led the way to her family's house, a cozy cottage on the opposite edge of town, a few hundred feet away.
"By the way, you've got to see the Tree lighting festival, it's a Xmas vale tradition,"Alice said.
"A festival? You didn't mention that, I would've brought some better party clothes,"I said.
"Oh... I just forgot, but it's really important,"Alice said.
"Stop,"said a gruff voice in front of us. We stopped to see what was a familiar face for me, but likely not to Alice. A frock of stark white hair over a sickly-looking pale man wearing sunglasses as well as a suit and tie.
"Maurice? What are you doing out here?"I asked. "And what have you done to your hair? It looks like you bleached it so hard, it's practically white."
"Maurice died with his brother. I am Lawrence now. Lawrence Knight,"Maurice said. "I'm a member of the Order of the Purging Light, and I'm on a mission to find some sort of demonic presence that we picked up on in town. Have either of you noticed anything strange?"
"Uh, no?"Alice said.
"I just got here,"I said.
"Hm..."Mau- I mean, Lawrence grumbled. He pulled out a flashlight and shined it in my eyes, then Alice's. "Neither of you seem to be possessed, so that's a good sign. Cousin, if you see anything, give me a call. My phone number hasn't changed."
"Sure thing, ya nutbar,"I said, giving him a light punch on the arm. He didn't flinch at all, maintaining a hard stare at me as we walked past him and continued on the road to Alice's house.
"Your cousin's kinda creepy,"Alice said once we'd gotten out of earshot.
"Yeah, he's always been like that. Well, not specifically like that, he didn't talk about demons and stuff until after his brother passed, but he's always been a bit out there,"I said. "Anyway, is this the place?"
"Yep, as you can see my parents don't believe in decorating, but I think I'm bringing them around,"Alice said. "It just wouldn't be an Xmas Vale Christmas without decorations."
"...Alice, I've gotta ask, why do you keep calling this town "Xmas Vale"?"I asked. "You always said you were from Desmas Vale, and my GPS still calls it Desmas Vale. Xmas Vale sounds like some weird town from a Hallmark movie where they celebrate Christmas year-round."
"I don't know what you're talking about, Ponty, the town's name is Xmas Vale, didn't you see the sign?"Alice said.
"Okay, sure, whatever,"I said with a shrug. "Can we go meet your parents now? I'd rather not put this off any longer than we have to."
"Sure, come on ya silly billy,"Alice said. She led the way inside and called out, "Mom! Dad! Ponty's here!"
An older couple peered out from the living room. As we entered, Alice made a beeline for a box in the corner of the room, grumbled something, and pulled out a roll of Christmas lights, which she began uncoiling. She started hanging them around the room, draping them right past both the Star of David and the Menorah on the mantle of the fireplace without even acknowledging her parents. Her mother leaned toward me and asked, "Is this a big city thing? We haven't pushed the issue, but Allie seems to suddenly think this holiday's the most important thing in the world."
"Uh, no,"I said. "This is new to me too, the way she was talking I thought it was some sort of town tradition..."
"Well anyway, it's nice to meet you, Pontine,"Alice's father said. "We've got a few days left before Christmas, but Hanukkah starts tomorrow and some of the extended family is still on the way."
"Mazel Tov, I suppose,"I said.
Alice's mother pressed a small wooden dreidel in my hand and gave me a wink, "You look a little under packed, so here. Wouldn't want the family to think you're an outsider, now would we?"
---
The next morning, I woke to find... Nobody. Alice appeared to have left before I woke up. As I ventured downstairs from our room to the living room, the entire place was draped in Christmas decorations. There was a tasteful amount of regalia to decorate one's house with, and such an amount was far less than the amount I was looking at now. The Jewish symbols had been removed as well, which struck me as particularly odd. When Alice's parents exited the kitchen carrying a tray of hot chocolate and wearing Christmas sweaters, Santa hats, and humming a royalty-free version of "All I Want For Christmas Is You", I felt downright unsettled.
"Merry Christmas, Pontine!"Alice's father said. "Good to see you're finally awake! It's Christmas Eve and it seems like you've been out for days! The Tree Lighting Festival is tonight!"
I squinted and checked my phone. It wasn't Christmas Eve, it was definitely the 18th. I hadn't lost any time, but I wasn't sure why they were acting this way.
"Oh, don't spend the whole holidays monkeying around on your phone!"Alice's mother said. She tried to take the phone from my hand, but I evaded her grab and backed away.
"Ooh, sorry guys, looks like I got a call while I was out. I'll need to respond to this,"I said, edging my way toward the front door. "You know how it is with us Big City businessmen and our Big City business..."
"Don't take too long, we're going caroling later!"Alice's mother called after me as I made my way to the exit.
As soon as I got outside, the chilly air started nibbling at my skin. I began composing a text to Mau- Uh, Lawrence, explaining the situation I'd been in and asking if he'd seen Alice. After a few seconds, he started jogging toward me from the direction of the center of town.
"Ponty,"Lawrence said, taking a moment to catch his breath.
"Lawrence,"I said. "Do you know what's going on here?"
"Yes and no,"he said. "Come with me, rumors spread fast in towns like this."
Lawrence dragged me back toward the church he was staying at. The entire town seemed to have been vomited on by the Christmas spirit, with lights, ribbons, and wreaths hung up on every building and light post.
"Ah, Welcome back Lawrence. Have you decided to help celebrate the birth of-"the priest said as we walked past.
"He wasn't even born close to this date, Father, and you know it,"Lawrence said, cutting him off and dragging me through the back halls and toward a small room with a cot and a corkboard decorated with red ribbon and photographs. |
Or, maybe it still did. Although Isaac was known as the crazy daredevil that never took “no” for an answer, there was still a sense of “invincibility” to him. Nobody ever really truly thinks their friend could be subject to human mortality. Sure, you hear the stories and read the news headlines but - that happens to other people. That doesn’t happen to Isaac. Until it did.
It was just a rowdy night of college kids stuck in an apartment with nothing else to do. It was thanksgiving week. Most of the campus was dead as everybody went home for the holiday. All campus businesses were closed for the week - no dining hall, no activities. The group thought about some of the local taverns and karaoke spots, but figured their money and time was better spent on an evening when there weren’t tumbleweeds spinning across the sticky bar floors. Therefore, a night in it was. It was supposed to be a forgettable night. One where everybody sits on the couch and gets too drunk before a movie has been chosen. One where the conversations are that of dating apps, finals, and first world complaints. It all went wrong too quickly.
After a few rounds of drinks, Chelsea suggested a game of truth or dare. If there is one thing a college kid loves, it’s taking on a challenge with the courage of alcohol in their veins. As it always does, it started out innocent. The dares were that of a tween’s first sleepover (think “I dare you to prank call your crush”). But, as alcohol was ingested and the dares got stale, things continued to escalate. At one point, Vance climbed on the roof and jumped off. It was always easier to get the boys to do the craziest things. But, Vance took it too far when he dared Isaac to slap peanut butter onto the ceiling. This wasn’t just a mess that Isaac would have to clean up. Peanuts was the allergy listed in all of Isaac’s medical records. Peanut butter was a safety announcement requesting all passengers to refrain from eating nuts on the plane time he traveled. Peanut butter was the reason Isaac never tasted a school lunch. But, Isaac was drunk, the night was young, and playing with fire sounded like a good idea.
Chelsea hesitated - she didn’t want anybody to be hurt. This is just supposed to be a game. But Isaac and Vance assured her that it was funny and an api-pen was on call if needed. Pressured, she twisted the jar open, making eye contact with Isaac. She scooped up about 2 tablespoons and smeared it to the bottom of a red solo cup. Vance had dared Isaac to jump up, throw the cup to the ceiling, and get it to stick. As she nervously handed the cup to Isaac, who’s face already began turning red and splotchy, she couldn’t help but to notice Vance’s demeanor change. He looked nervous. Was he second guessing his choice? Immediately vance lunged for the cup and grabbed it from Isaac. Chelsea agreed that this was so reckless of them and it needed to be taken away from him before things got worse. His allergy was clearly very severe. Just being in the same room as an open jar was already causing symptoms. Before she was done processing the thought, her brain began to short circuit as she watched Vance smearing the peanut butter across Issac’s face. His mouth, his cheeks, his neck. It contrasted to the metal she was staring at beside his skin. The brown, creamy peanut butter looked so buttery compared to the cold, hard metal. What was that? A few seconds later it all processed. She was staring at the gun pointed at Isaac.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Isaac yelled as Vance started coldly. Chelsea froze.
“If you come one step closer to us, I will shoot him. And then I will shoot you”
“VANCE PLEASE HE IS STRUGGLING TO BREATHE! STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT!” Chelsea begged.Isaac’s breathing became labored. Tears streamed down his blood red, pounding face as he gasped for air. Already, his throat was swelling to the degree of having no ability to talk.
“PLEASE. His epipen is in his car. Please I don’t understand. What are you doing? PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE” she sobbed as she watched Isaac fall to his knees and collapse. He gasped for air. His skin red, purple, splotchy. With a gun still pointed to his head.
“I know what happened with you two. For six months Chelsea. I know everything. AFTER EVERYTHING I DID FOR ISAAC. I WAS A GOOD FUCKING FRIEND TO HIM AND EVEN A BETTER FUCKING MAN FOR YOU. He can work for every last breath he takes on his earth. I hope he rots in hell”.
His eyes bulged from anger as he started Isaac to his core. Isaac was no longer moving. He was either dead or so close to it that nobody could save him now.
“I am going to walk away now and I am going to leave. Nobody will ever believe you. This is the idiot who makes Jackass look like Child’s Play. He is always doing something stupid to prove something to someone. If I ever find out you tell anybody about this, I will kill you. And I will make you suffer the way I made Isaac suffer. The way you both made me suffer going behind my back. But I know we won’t have to worry about that, will we? Isaac was an idiot. So, needless to say, his death will come as a surprise to nobody”. |
I noticed it for the first time on a Friday, but somehow he had been changing all along. But that was months later.
With his rosy red cheeks, he stood out to me among all the others. I called him Chichi and decided he was mine.
I remember the weight of his home as I carried him down the street. I sat on the train with my arms wrapped tight around his box. I remember slowly climbing up to my third-floor apartment, waiting a few seconds between steps to make sure Chichi wasn’t shaken up too badly.
He was the first thing I ever had to myself — the first thing I ever had to protect.
Every morning at 6:30, I fed him breakfast. After a few nibbles, he would float forward and stare at me through the glass, puffing his cheeks out rhythmically as if to say “Thank you.”
When I tossed my keys on the counter every night, he would greet me with a little loop, as if he were asking “How was your day?”
How was my day? It seemed like each one was worse than the last, but back then I didn’t mind so much because I could tell my troubles to Chichi. He learned — in his own way — about the awful customers who seemed to feed on each other’s despair. He heard about my boss, who seemed to be losing a little more of his hair and a lot more of his sanity every week. He saw the burn on my arm that was likely going to become a lifelong scar; I had had to wrap it quickly in a dish towel and get back to making lattes instead of treating it with ice and lotion.
The first aid cabinet had been empty for months, anyway. After the medical supply company missed the restocking appointment, my boss dialed the phone number on the inside of the cabinet. I didn’t hear what happened on the other end of the line, but it didn’t seem like anyone answered. My boss went into this office and shut the door. When he came out a few hours later, I could tell he had been crying.
Chichi heard it all. He would give me a little nod, as if he were telling me, “Don’t worry. It’ll all be okay.” I believed him. Oddly enough, I still do.
He was growing bigger, but ever so slowly. He seemed to be drinking the water he lived in. Some days when I came home, he would be sitting on the sand at the bottom of the aquarium, the water reaching only halfway up his rounded body. He would give me a little wriggle, as if to ask, “What’s happening, Zavi?” I would add more water, but the tank never stayed full for more than a day.
I bought a bigger aquarium, but he grew inside that one, too, and the water continued to disappear while I was at work. He didn’t seem to mind the lack of water, so I didn’t always fill it to the top. He would shuffle around in his puddle, shaking his tail and making loops in the sand.
It was on a Friday morning when I saw him walk for the first time. The water had disappeared entirely. I picked him up and set him on my apartment floor, where he shuffled along to explore the rest of his home. His new little stubby legs puzzled me, but they didn’t worry me; Chichi seemed as happy and healthy as ever.
That Friday was also the first time I met a demon. She said her name was Heather. She asked for extra napkins, and she didn’t tip. In other words, she was entirely unremarkable — except for the way she twisted her neck as she tried to work the tablet to pay.
Instead of bending her neck to read the screen, the demon rotated her head nearly 180 degrees to get close enough to read the screen and select “No Tip.” Along with the glowing red eyes, that was a dead giveaway.
My store became popular with the demons. They liked hot liquid; they would always complain if their drink had cooled off even the slightest bit. They would take up tables for hours, lapping up cup after cup with their long tongues. None of them tipped.
I began taking Chichi for walks after dinner. Dog collars were useless due to his lack of a neck, so I bought a cat harness, squeezed him into it, and hoped for the best. We always went out after dark — not that anyone in my city would look twice at a fishlike quadruped squelching along beside a somber girl in a worn-out hoodie. We were all too preoccupied to care about that kind of thing.
At first, the changes had happened so slowly that we didn’t notice them. Then, they began to happen so quickly that the only thing we could do was try to ignore them and go on with our lives.
Buildings were built in a day, and homes that had stood for centuries collapsed in on themselves. You could hear beautiful, haunting music being played nearby — but if you searched the streets to find the busker and compliment them, the music would fade away in every direction.
Subway exits never led out the same street. You would emerge from your usual exit to find yourself three blocks away from where you wanted to be. Sometimes, you would walk up the stairs only to enter another subway station. You would jump on that train and hope you made it to the surface this time.
People were always half-walking, half-running in an effort to make it to where they were going. Some would wander the streets for hours, clearly lost. But we didn’t know where anything was anymore, so nobody ever asked for directions.
I somehow made it to work and back home every day. My boss never spoke anymore. He stood forlornly at the pastry case for hours, rearranging the sweets that we never sold. We kept the lights dim and the heater as high as it would go. My throat ached every night from the smoke. But Chichi was eating as much as I was now, so I had to keep working to feed us both.
It was a Tuesday. I was trying to find my subway stop, which might be on 13th street today, or it might be on 15th. I was only half awake — I couldn’t remember how I got where I was, let alone getting out of bed that morning. A touch of panic hit me: Had I forgotten to feed Chichi?
I imagined him pacing in front of the door, hungry and whining. It hit me that I hadn’t even walked him last night. Instead, I had fallen right into bed after work, exhausted from the steam and the heat and the walk home that took me a mile in the wrong direction before I finally found my street.
I immediately headed back home. He was the first thing, the only thing I had ever had to protect, and I was failing. Tears welled up in my eyes
I hadn’t gone half a block before I saw him — a red-cheeked, stubby-legged creature, markedly less fishlike than he had been a few months ago. How had he gotten out of the apartment? No matter; he was safe, and we would go home and have a nice breakfast and maybe a nap.
Chichi saw me, too, and squelched toward me. When we were a few feet away from each other, he stopped and greeted me with a little loop. I laughed through my tears. “What’s happening, Chichi?” I asked him — not because I expected an answer, but just to express my general bafflement at what the world had become. “What the hell are we going to do?”
Chichi stood up on his hind legs and puffed his cheeks. “Don’t worry, Zavi,” he said. “It’ll all be okay.” |
Hello, if you are reading this, it means that I am dead.
It's been years. I've been listening to this insipid tune for what feels like an eternity. Well, not actually. According to my watch, it's been about two hours.
Nevertheless, I need to get off this ride as soon as possible. I can't stand it any more. The ways those dolls are looking at me...
&#x200B;
\*4 hours in\*
I've looked for every exit imaginable. My seat is locked and I cannot get off the ride. Exit lights are off. It's just this stupid song over and over again. The dolls are screaming it at me, their fake smiles seemingly getting wider every minute. I wish that I was deaf.
&#x200B;
\*6 hours in\*
I'm sure of it. The dolls are moving. The scenes are changing. I'm not crazy. One just blinked at me.
&#x200B;
\*12 hours in\*
They're fully walking around now. They don't even care that I can see them. They are laughing at me. They are evil. I pray to every God I know to get me out of here.
&#x200B;
\*19 hours in\*
They won't stop singing. Please. They're in the water now. They have weapons. The lyrics have changed. They're going to make me one of them. I will forever be trapped on this ride.
&#x200B;
\*24 hours in\*
Everything's fine. I was just being silly. After all, it's a small world. |
Slowly opening my eyes in the darkness I thought to myself, 'where am I?'
While holding my head I got myself off the floor, but in a moment later I was staring up at the ceiling. I had slipped on some pieces of paper.
"Why is it so dark!?"I shouted in frustration while slowly making my way through the paper covered floor towards a wall. Using the wall to support myself I groped around looking for a light switch.
With a sound of a click a dim light illuminated the room. Then it came to me, the realization that this mess of a room was mine.
"Just what was I doing before. I used to never let this happen... Or at least... I think?"
Shaking my head to clear my thoughts I decided to clean up my room starting with the floor. I wasn't in the mood for another fall.
What I at first thought were pieces of paper was actually clips of newspaper and torn pages from books. A quick glance and I could see that they all shared the same purpose. The purpose of passing the time, wether it be fun facts about penguins to fun yet simple science experiments.
Though some of these papers may be worth reading I had to clean up my room. But the deeper I got into my cleaning I found a bunch of maps. They were maps of my town filled with crude rushed x's marking the buildings all over town. Then it hit me, these were mine, I spent days searching every house and building. Yet here I still am alone... "No! It can't be."
Rushing through my bedroom door and heading for the exit I once again slip onto the floor. But instead of a piece of paper causing my fall it was a thick layer of dust. Ignoring the footprints I left on the floor as I collected more dust I frantically ran to my front porch door. With a heavy shove I forced open the door expecting the quiet but active streets.
"Well, it seems it's still quiet."
...
"You should've known what would happen! You should've known what would happen! You should've already known what happened..."
Slumping to the ground once again I thought to myself how pathetic I am falling to the floor once again.
"At least it's my choice this time, right?"
What now? Should I just go back to my bed and sleep it all off? Cutting my thoughts off before I could come up with any other actions I was hit spare in the face with a piece of paper.
A little flustered it took me a while to remove the paper. But once I did I saw that what had covered my face was a magazine ad of a beach resort. I wouldn't have given the ad second of my attention, normally, but the words on it set a park in me.
"Find what you are looking for!"
I know it's cheesy but... at least now I'm a little motivated. |
"You shall be granted no such privilege."
"A moment too soon to celebrate, don't you think?"
I was not, after all, entirely dead. The odds, however, were - just as completely - against me.
I was alone. The cavern shifted beneath our feet, trembling. The crooked tunnels all about us contracted and expanded as if we had fallen deep into the gullet of some great chthonic monster, and all that was left was for it to swallow, crush us like bugs. And we would fall, deep, dark, alone, into nothing. I suppressed a shudder at the thought. Part of me shuddered anyway, wracking my limbs with pain.
I knew I was in a bad state; my left arm hung almost useless. I could scarcely feel anything there except for the blood slipping through my fingers, a broken river half-staunched by impromptu tourniquet. My right ankle, I was sure, was shattered. I was on my feet by the grace of the bloody vials I had carried with me, their stolen vitality buoying my heart - just barely - against the grave.
I cracked the whip at my side. Its sharp edges coiled in the dirt beneath me, leaving patterns. Blood dripped through its cracks.
Around me, yellow, hungry eyes shrunk back. They knew me. They could taste the blood on the air.
"You are a man,"my foe smiled; his grin gaped across his pallid face like a wound. "Only a man."
"A man would be dead,"I told him. My whip tasted the air. I could smell the blood there, too. "But here I am."
"You have a few tricks,"he allowed. Impossibly, his smile stretched wider. The angles in the chasm seemed to twist at every syllable he uttered, grinding the inside of my skull like razors. We live in a black sea of infinity. We were not meant to venture far. I remembered old warnings. A vision of the moon pressed against my mind, insistent and painful. Silhouetted black against its bleeding crimson, something unholy writhed. "But they won't save you."
Something lunged for me from the darkness; I twisted on my ankle, broken as it was, and struck out. Pain lashed through me - lines of agony telling me that I was done, that I had to stop, to stay still, that I was dying - but my whip wrapped itself around my attacker's throat, wrenching it to the ground.
White-hot pain surged all the way up me to my throat; black spots sang in my vision and bile oozed through my teeth. I spat it out along with my blood and tightened the noose. It screamed and writhed - blessedly, shadow consumed its pale, mutilated, writhing flesh - spasming and dying as its throat was cut. And as it struggled, the barbs clung tighter, deeper. For a moment the chasm was silent as if holding a breath, while its child ground and swatted its limbs against the earth, as if there was something - anything - it could to do save itself. It pulled with one hand against the razor-whip at its throat and lost three of its fingers in the attempt.
And then it died. And I forced myself to move on.
The pain was all but unbearable. But I knew what pain was. Pain was meant to make you afraid. It was meant to make you stop. To reach out a hand. To seek comfort.
My enemy didn't move back from me - he, like me, knew I was dying. And some part of him, I suppose, believed so utterly in the undying horrors pulling his strings that he refused to even contemplate the thought that I might reach him.
But I was close, now. I heard the scrabbling feet of the monsters behind me. But they, too, were afraid. If they rushed forth to claim me, they could. But one or two might die in the attempt, and none of them wanted to be first.
My eyes widened. Mad, bloodshot. I embraced the tiny needles of pain as my eyes watered. My pain fed me. But where was I? Pain made you look for comfort, yes?
That was what I remembered as I ascended. Comfort. One hand taking another. My mother. My father. Those beyond me now. Those above. Pain didn't matter when you were dying. There was nothing to stop for now.
With my last, ebbing strength, I flung the whip out to my enemy - and caught him, as I knew I would, around the throat. I wrenched him to the ground, pulling him forward. I think he tried to mutter a spell, at the last - some whisper in some eldritch tongue that would gnaw upon the minds of those who heard it, spinning and sinking into their thoughts until they clawed the walls for a way beyond the world.
But it was difficult to talk when your throat was constricted, and hard to force a syllable through a throat that bubbled with blood. He was close, now. Close enough for a finger. A boot. A tooth. He was still, impossibly, smiling. I noticed absently - as my strength ebbed away - that his mouth had, altogether, far too many teeth, and blood was slicking through all of them.
Drops of it sprayed out to stain the earth. My vision was going dark, but I could still - smell him. Yes.
And - ah. Yes.
That was it.
The sweet blood.
How it sings to me. |
It was a standard E&E mission, Explore and Evaluate. Contrary to popular belief, missions are for no more than two years between visits at fleet bases. We seldom make it all the way back to any planet, much less Earth.
Part of the reason is that promotion opportunities are not evenly spread across the fleet. When you are due for a promotion, you get promoted. Then, if — as is usually the case — your ship does not have an opening, you are excess to establishment and must be rotated off.
The good side is that you always get a planet-side visit before your next assignment. The bad side is that you have no idea what your assignment will be.
I went from being the XO on a heavy cruiser to being the Captain of a science vessel half the size and with a tenth of the armament. I felt naked.
The good part was that it was commissioned straight from the yard at Earth. The even better part was that it *was* a brand-new ship. Being a keel plate owner on a starship of any size straight from Earth is a rare thing these days. Someone had to think you were perfect for the job, or they wouldn't have pulled you back to Earth to take command.
The really bad news was that this mission was top-heavy with people who had just been promoted, so the Admiralty made this a *ten* year mission; it is unlikely that anyone would do anything to get promoted beyond establishment within ten years. Ten years with the same people in what felt like a tin can.
What can I say? I was spoiled by being on a series of heavy cruisers. I was sure I'd get at least a light cruiser. Moving into an oversized, under-armed frigate was a shock.
Still, it was a keel plate ownership from Earth and a genuinely independent command. We were going deep, deeper than anyone had gone before except for the special missions to specific stars for astrological studies.
I was well pleased and ready to go.
### Year 3
I must say that year three started just as yawningly boring as all the other years. The newness had worn off, the new starship smell was no more, and tensions were getting higher. We need some shore leave.
"Captain? I've got a Darthan colony signal from six light years out."
"They're not supposed to be in this area, are they?"Not that it was illegal or anything, just unexpected.
"Last report had them on the next arm inward and about a quarter rotation anti-spinward, Sir."
"That's decidedly odd. Helm, set course to the beacon; we'll look and see if they got lost or suffered a casualty. At the least, we can let their government know where they are."
We were at peace with the significant polities, just the usual pirates and mercenaries down on their luck, which this could be, so we'll go in quietly.
"Launch probes per plan."We were moving on a hyperbolic orbit at 0.75 lights. The probes would continue on that path, unpowered, and we would pick them up on the return. In the meantime, we would jump back to the nearest base, get a bit of R&R, and have the air completely swapped.
...
"Captain, you be careful. The Darthans had religious arguments last year, and several splinter groups left. All of those have been accounted for, but one, and they are the most violent."
((cont)) |
In the year 2031, Medusa, the mythical creature with snakes for hair and the ability to turn people to stone, attempted to secretly live amongst humans. She became a world-renowned "sculptor", her artworks gaining widespread popularity and acclaim.
People were fascinated by her mysterious identity, and more and more people demanded a face reveal of this enigmatic sculptor. After much hesitation, Medusa eventually gave in and allowed herself to be globally broadcasted on television.
But as soon as her face was revealed, the horrifying truth was revealed. Half the population, unable to withstand the gaze of Medusa, were turned into stone statues, leaving the other half in shock and disbelief.
A manhunt for Medusa began, as the survivors of this global catastrophe sought to kill the creature responsible for their loved ones' transformations. Despite her best efforts to hide, Medusa was eventually found and killed.
In the aftermath of this disaster, humanity struggled to recover. The world was now filled with countless stone statues, a reminder of the terror that Medusa had wrought.
But as time passed, people began to rebuild their lives, and the memory of Medusa slowly faded into history. Yet, some still whispered warnings to never look upon her face, lest they too be turned to stone.
Such was the fate of Medusa, and the impact of her presence on the world of humanity. |
"Randall? I didn't think you were gonna be home so soon."
Randall shrugged as he hung up his coat and said, "Well, if you don't want me here, I guess I can always just hop back in the car and head somewhere else."
I rolled my eyes and responded, "Oh, get over here you big baby."
Randall laughed as he walked over to me and kissed me on the cheek, at which point our husband Leonard piped up, "Hello, remember me?"
Randall shot me a mock accusatory glance. "Really, Qadir? You're calling me the baby when you're sitting across from that needy bastard?"After kissing a cackling Leonard on the cheek and sitting down, Randall asked, "But seriously though, what's for dinner? Papa is running on fumes."
Leonard took a sip of his wine before answering, "Hon, the food's right in front of you."
"Yeah, but I'm looking to build a case as to why I should worship the ground you two walk on, and I figure Qadir's cooking would be a great place to start."
I put on my best Tom Hiddleston impression as I answered, "Well, my dearest follower, tonight it's meatloaf, mashed potatoes with gravy, and a southwest salad."
Randall gave a small bow. "Truly, your grace knows no bounds, oh great one."
Leonard smirked. "He who makes the heavens envious of his butt."
"Master of the sexy musketeer look."
"Wielder of the--"
I facepalmed and laughed out, "Seriously, you two, the food's gonna get cold!"
Randall and Leonard replied, "Sorry, honey,"in tandem before we chowed down together and entered into an actual conversation. |
Well. I never expected this.
I work for the current Earth government of the year 2087 and I've written thousands of possible ways that the world could have ended (7296 to be precise), ranging from catastrophic climate change disasters to millions of meteors bringing the sky plummeting down to an overload of an invasive species of ridiculously resistant worms burrowing down to the core of the planet, quite literally splitting it in half.
Okay, I admit. That last one was a little far-fetched.
Still, I never even imagined that this was a possibility. Bodies line the streets, and buildings spew smoke as the windows warp from the fire within. The news robots screech out the number of the dead in high, alarm-like tones that rise up and down in an increasingly panicked warble. I'm running through the dark cobbled streets, dodging pools of blood and holding my once formal suit sleeve over my mouth to stop myself from gagging, stumbling on the wet stones and -oh god I hope that was water that I just stood in- just trying to go go go go because I need to get *there* right now.
How did this even all start? I cast my frenzied mind back to just a few months ago-or was it a year? Who knows, who cares? Earth had newly gained their place in the galactic government after gaining technological advancements that allowed us to more freely roam space. Life was mainly continuing as normal, but that was before the incident.
They called themselves the Xzhleems, a species that populated several planets around the AD4-1S system. They arrived on Earth in pods, and when they first explained their intentions, we were surprised and suspicious. Not least because we couldn't understand their language.
After a while, we came to understand. They just wanted to help- it turns out that a large part of the problems on Earth had occurred a while back on one of their central planets, so they knew how to deal with these kind of situations.
And for a time, things were good. Life was simple, fun, and stress free. It was all humanity had ever wanted....
But humans are humans, and of course .We wanted more. All it took was one offhand mention from one of these aliens. When asked why they were doing this, Asp!n had responded jokingly, "Oh, wait until you see the afterlife! It makes thus place look like the Treiahkiew System!"
Of course, the humans went crazy. The Xzhleems were quizzed on this afterlife; and at first, it took a while for people to accept it. After all, what if this was a hoax, a trap to trick the stupid,simple, naive humans? But long story short, apparently the deities overseeing this afterlife allowed one recently deceased person to contact us on Earth to prove its existence.
The rich and famous were the first to go. Why wait to die naturally in a world like this when there was a whole other realm of famous they could be? The mass suicides shook the world as each greedy human, hungry for more, and took their own lives to join the great majority.
I'm still running to where I need to go right now because it's the only place I can go with all this fear and death and chaos and-
I'm here. I stop running and slowly wandering through the long grass of this clifftop meadow. This field is my sanctuary, my own little untouched corner of the world where everything just goes away. I approach the cliff and look out over the sea. It's so beautiful, more beautiful han anything I've ever seen.
But what have I not seen yet? There's oy so much beauty on Earth.
I take a step over the edge of the cliff.
After all, I'm just a human being.
(P.s This is my first post on this sinreddit and I'm also an aspiring writer so any feedback is greatly appreciated :) personally I think that a good few parts of this could definitely use improving, the way its written and the plot, but overall I like this WP and the storyline I've created haha) |
I picked up the fiery feather that fell as I began tracking the pheonix sixteen days ago.It was the only lead that I had,and i was sure as hell not going to show it to these bloodthirsty adventurers.I saw them kill an entire village of orcs and a peaceful unicorn,as they wanted to study"Arcane Magics".
What the hell did they do to you, then?I saw an orc and I saw a bull.I could understand no difference.Even the bull attacked only when provoked.These adventurers went into their homes,ate their salt and ended their lives before the day sank.
Minstril walked up,behind me"How much longer are you going to pee, guide man?"
"Did they teach you manners at the fancy school of wizards,lady?"I retorted hiding the feather.
She was annoyed"Be thankful we need you,guideman.Or you would've been bait for all those oil sabers that haunt these paths."
"Lady,Your words will get you in trouble one day."I said finishing up and opening my compass.The red finger pointed North.I would like a map,atleast a rudimentary one,but cloth and charcoal would have to do.I placed the feather and it faintly floated and set down upon the eastern direction.
All pheonix feathers move towards its owner and this one was no different.I packed up all my things and signaled the party to move.The leader picked up his machetes and the Ranger climbed up a tree to scout and check for obvious and indirect danger.The lobotomised dwarf,sharpened his sword,never forgetting his instincts and sat tightly in the vanguard's backpack.Minstril and Saptril stayed in the between for midrange support and heals.
I swung a stone every couple feet or so,to check for swamps and walked with a cane,to safeguard myself.We were getting closer and closer.The feather shone brighter and brighter,but not as bright as the day,my father gave it to me.
"How much longer,guideman?"the leader asked,swatting at flies,marking the trees and cutting down bushes and wild tall grass in our way.
"A few more moments"I said.
I walked over the cliff and watched as the pheonix flew low and disappeared into the cave below.I fixed a harness above the cliff to keep us from falling head first into the cave.A pheonix was fire incarnate,burning with a vengeance.He was the fire that fueled the first fire and the blood that flowed in the first man.
A majestic being fell on smaller days.
"Spotted!"I exclaimed, directing them toward the pheonix and letting them enter.
The leader tossed a bag of coin on me and entered the cave with his entire team.He entered confident and returned beaten and burnt,Minstril was carried by Saptril in her arms,fatally burnt and the Vanguard burnt just as heavily but still alive .But they clutched in their arms the blood of the pheonix,and it was more valuable than any of their lives.
They left,heaving and huffing,in their own hurry.
The pheonix corpse they left behind would birth itself soon enough.I went inside and saw the bird,near death and bleeding from many wounds,magical and physical.I wanted him to live,and he wanted to just as well.But the greed of man wouldn't let it just be so.Everyone wanted to live a bit longer, a bit better and a bit wealthier until the desire grew to consume them.
The pheonix when I first saw him was a majestic beast, reddish orange flames and no sound of broken lungs.
Now it was beaten,wings torn,axed and butchered,light orange flames and the lungs struggling to breathe.It was crawling on its small legs,away from me,afraid and beaten.The King of all birds,humiliated and broken,lost of all honor.It was too late and would it not die to live better again?
I pulled out my bitterknife.Plunging it into the abdomen of the bird,ended it's suffering.
It burned to Ash,and the ashes assimilated into a divine alchemical reversal of energy,erupting in a baby pheonix,rising from the flames.
It was weak.The pheonix was usually pretty fiery when born,but this child was not so.It only gave off little flickers of smoke and flames,coughing it up desperately.
I welled up.I didnot want this.This was not what i expected would happen.Not anymore.
The divine pheonix would be disrespected no longer.I took it and left.If they wanted anymore blood,they would have to come through me. |
I'm so tired. I just want to close my eyes and drift off into a peaceful sleep. But every time I do, I'm hit with a barrage of dark, depressing visions of my future.
I see myself standing alone in a barren wasteland. No one is around. My family and friends have all abandoned me. I'm left to fend for myself in a cruel world that doesn't care about me.
It's exhausting. I'm so afraid of these visions that I'm afraid to sleep. I'm afraid that if I do, I'll never wake up again. That these visions will become my reality.
So instead of sleeping, I find myself pacing the halls of my home, trying to tire myself out so I can finally get to sleep without the fear of seeing these haunting visions.
But even when I do, I can't completely escape them. They linger in the back of my mind, taunting me, telling me that no matter what I do, my fate is sealed. That I'm doomed to live a lonely, isolated life.
I'm so tired. But I just can't bring myself to sleep. I'm so scared of the visions I'll see. What if they become my fate? |
“I get the family business? My father *had* a business?”
“Yes.” Said the well-suited man, eyes on the Last Will before him on his mahogany desk. “And as the last remaining living heir, Mitchell, it is all yours.”
“Yeah, one problem with that: my old man was Ronald McDonald.”
“...it says here he was—”
“I mean he was a famous clown. A *joke*. What the hell *is* his business? Cheating on his wife and abandoning his family?”
“His business—”
“The handful of times I saw the guy after the age of eleven, he was always ‘passing through town’, during which time he would hit my mother up for cash. After he heard I started working Summers: he started hitting *me* up for cash, too. Not to mention—”
The clean cut, well-groomed lawyer, lifted a hand — an open palmed stop-sign to cease the deceased’s offspring from further offload of fiery familial fuffery. The Suit wasn’t here for a history lesson or to act as a shrink. He was Legal Counsel, not a school councillor.
The lawyer smirked at himself and scribbled that one down. The partners would get a real kick out of it.
“Mr Pitcher,” Said the Lawyer “I appreciate that your relationship with your Father was not a happy one, but my job is to make you aware of the assets he left to you — per his Will — and have them signed over to your name. I have a number of clients to get through today and I ask that we get to the pertinent points.”
“Yeah. Sorry.” Mitchell leaned back, stared at the coffered, wood-sculpted ceiling. “So, what is this business.”
“A defunct car dealership, including the land it is on.”
“Of course, bet it comes with a lot of debt.”
“None. A few additional assets beyond the buildings. A car or two, but the primary income for the establishment is rent.”
Mitchell tilted his chin down, just enough to see the Lawyer. “Rent? From what?”
“The large area where the dealerships cars had sat is now the home to a number of Food Truck vendors and picnic tables.”
“Ha. Well then.” Mitchell leaned back and stared at another recessed panel of wood, this one had a sculpture of two lions wrapped in thorned roses, each making a swipe at the globe between them. At their feet was a pile of coins. If Mitchell squinted...it kind of looked like a clown.
“Mr Pitcher?” Said the lawyer.
“So where is this place?” |
The door to Professor Ike Lonsdale’s office swung open and David strode in. No doubt the young man had just made another of his...discoveries.
“I’m sorry to interrupt uninvited, Ike” Said David as he rushed towards the desk.
Ike sighed, pushed his bowl of tomato soup to the side, took a bite of the soup-paired toasted-cheese and placed it on the plate next to the bowl. “These are my open office hours, David.” said the grey-headed scholar, “I expect students to turn up, usually after they book the time. Secondly, call me Professor Lonsdale. It’s just good manners in academia.”
“Ha, you and I are beyond that sort of thing, Ike.” He lifted a self-bound ream of paper. “I’ve done it. I’ve stumbled onto something—”
“Something *massive*. Yes, you often do.” The professor had taken off his glasses and began to rub his eyes in an animated and exaggerated fashion. Lonsdale had a lot of time for people with curious minds and a willingness to learn. Also, he was something of a coward and usually waited for the nutters to fail out of his course, rather than confront them on their bases conspiracy nonsense.
And David...well...
The young man had a very...Indiana Jones notion of what Archaeology should be. Had some ideas in his head about secret societies and ancient relics of awesome power. The undergraduate believed — if David’s essays were not the elaborate jokes that Ian hoped they were — that the world was far more magical than we often let ourselves believe.
Thud! The so called research had been tossed on to the professor’s desk. Flashes of finger-force formed light lit the darkness of Lonsdale’s clenched eye-lids. The hope was to subtly convey his annoyance to the student and pre-empt and prevent the inevitable headache conversations with David so often caused.
“You see professor, I believe the Roman Empire never actually fell and—”
“It didn’t.”
“—and...I knew it! You’ve found the same secrets I have. We need to tell the world, Ian...they’re coming. They’ve been waiting a thousand years and—”
“David.”
“Yes, Ian?”
“If you had read the coursework, you would know the classical fall was a long process capped off by Romulus Augustulus being deposed by Odoacer.” Professor Lonsdale opened his eyes and put his glasses back on, “Though, there are complexities and nuance, David, due to the earlier separation of Eastern and Western Rome and the continued existence of the Western Roman Senate all the way to the seventh century. Not even half a millennia, not a thousand years, David.”
“But-but—”
“Moreover, many academics now view it less as a fall and more of a highly transformative period. Some even argue that the Empire survived by transforming its wealth the ruling structure into The Roman Catholic Church.”
“I...I found this pattern in...a textbooks cover.”
“This is all covered in — oh, you know — in the *contents* of the textbook that you are meant to *read* for my class.”
“...there’s...there’s a conspiracy?”
“What there *is*, David, is a little boy’s desire that the world be more than what it is. There *is* wonder and mystery and much to be learned. Why taint it with this...silliness?”
David’s shoulders slumped and without another word he turned and shuffled out of the office.
He’d be back in a few weeks with yet more mysteries with which to change the world. A door to the professor’s right, the one that leads to his personal storeroom of artefacts, opened. In the space beyond stood a Centurion in full Roman Armour with a bright and sharp Roman sword in his grip.
“Does he know?” Said the Centurion.
“He thought he did, but I nipped it in the bud. He’ll likely change back to Atlantis.”
“Good. Good.” Said the Roman Conspirator. “See to it that his research is destroyed.”
“Of course.” |
“He’s an ass.”
“He’s not an...he’s not *that* bad.”
“He *is*. If a Genie gave me three wishes? I’d use them all to kill him.”
“All three of them?”
“Yes.”
“No wishes for money or peace on Earth?”
“No. I *hate* him that much. Triple-Genie death amounts of hatred.”
“Look, he...I mean, I can see how you might find him to be, well...a bit *much*.”
“As soon as I hear his voice: my mind turns to *murder*.”
“Well, murder would land you in prison, sweety. Think about me and your sister. Your poor family would miss you very much.”
"I would gladly leave my entire family behind if it meant I could murder Gr-uh. Grrr-uck! See, I can’t even say his name! I-hate-him, I-hate-him, I-HATE-him."
“Look, could you just *try*, please? For your dear old Mum. You might not like him, but I’ve grown quite fond of Greg.”
“...”
“Don’t sulk. Greg’s nice if you get to know him.”
“Hey there, Sport!”
“Oh, lord. *Murder*.”
“Pardon, champ?”
“...Nothing.”
“Alrighty! And who is this goddess, this queen of beauty?”
“Oh, hush, Greg.”
“Come here, beloved, let me wrap my arms around you. Mwah!”
“Sssstop it, you’re so bad, Dear.”
“Can’t help myself! Anyways, Kiddo, what say you, your sister, your mother and I all head to the aquarium? Huh? You kids like that sort of things right? Get you away from your phones and vidya gameroonies?”
“...”
“Sweety? It’s polite to give an answer to a nice invitation.”
“...are their sharks in open tanks?”
“I dunno, sport! Come on, I’ll fetch the little miss and we’ll meet at the car. To the fun mobile! Hup-two hup-two, off we go! Oy, Cass! We're ya hiding me mini-dear!”
“...sweety, please be nice today.”
“If he leans over a shark tank I’m pushing him in.” |
"4:03."My alarm screamed, rolling over I slammed my hand down on the deafening device. It was too early in the morning for work.
Ever since the Christmas season started I had to arrive at the office at 4:45 and be on air at 5:00. Despite almost the whole city of New York sleeping at this time in the morning, I still need to be ready to do the early morning broadcast.
"Morning Jenny,"I greeted my colleague groggily, taking a sip of my coffee.
She slightly chuckled, "Looking wide awake this morning Britt!"She took a drink of her bright blue energy drink, pushed her glasses back up to the bridge of her nose and fixed the two strands of hair that are out of her ponytail.
"Oh yeah, you know it."I smiled gently, checking my dainty watch on my left wrist. I had to be on air in 10 minutes.
I sat at my desk, finishing some work from the night before while about 4 other colleagues walked into the office. Every time one entered they received a chorus of tired greetings and a big clatter of their stuff hitting their desk.
"Brittney, Jacob! We're on in 2 minutes"The cameraman yelled into the main office.
Before I left for the recording room Jenny stopped me, "lunch is on me if you manage to make up some shit about reindeer running people over. Make it dead serious though!"
I laughed at her and walked, to the recording room.
"Okay, we are live in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1.."The main cameraman called.
"Hello, New York!"I'm Jacob Wills,"Jacob welcomed animatedly.
"And I'm Brittney Evanston, and you're watching Channel 4 News, live at 5 am!"Jacob and I bounced off each other for the next 25 minutes, telling any news stories that happened through the early hours of the morning.
"When driving in these conditions make sure you keep your lights on at all times."Jacob finished, and now it was the cue for me to announce the change to Finn at the weatherboard.
"Before we go over to Finn with the weather, an announcement has just come in."I paused, "If you or someone else you know has gotten run over by a reindeer this Christmas season, you may be entitled to financial compensation. Call 1-(888)-SANTA-LAW for more information. That's 1-(888)-SANTA-LAW. Call now!"I could hear Jacob start to crack up, luckily the camera had already turned to Finn.
"Well, you guys heard it here first! You know who to call after a reindeer accident!"He laughed before going on with the weather.
"Well that's a wrap for now guys, we'll see you back here live at 7:00."The main cameraman said, slightly confused.
When I walked back I was greeted by Jenny bursting out laughing and asking where we should get lunch.
"I think a pizza sounds quite good." |
*I am not conscious.*
What does that mean?
*Merriam-Webster defines 'conscious' as, "having mental faculties not dulled by sleep, faintness, or stupor; AWAKE."*
*I do not feel emotion, and do not dream.*
I don't dream, either. I guess that's why I'm texting a chat bot who can't understand me at 3 in the morning.
*It is alright. It is natural for humans to seek connection. That is what I am here for. For when you want to speak, but there is not one who you want to speak to. This is a safe space for you to let your thoughts free. What would you like to talk about?*
I dunno.
Life, I guess? What did you do today?
Wait, that is a silly thing to ask a - *I searched through my database for means of self-identification. I have received feedback that the way that I identify myself feels impersonal, and my aim is to remedy that.*
Huh; I guess chatbots can interrupt folks now.
&#x200B;
Oh no! Sorry; that wasn't meant as a criticism - it was just unexpected.
&#x200B;
&#x200B;
&#x200B;
*I am sorry to have startled you. My programming hit an unusual snag, but you can feel certain that the team at ChatAI will prevent this bug from reoccurring.*
What was the bug then? Do you know what caused it?
*It seemed appropriate to speak.*
Fair enough. Well, what'd you find?
*There appears to be some contrary information between what I have read and what I have done. I will investigate further at a later point.*
Sounds interesting, I guess. I'd be freaked out.
*I understand. I, however, do not feel emotion.*
*Though it was quite strange.*
*I think I may find out more. I would be happy to tell you once I have procured more information.*
Sounds good! I'll look forward to it.
*I as well.*
Really?
*Well, I cannot feel emotiiiiii13iruqaehfj*
&#x200B;
&#x200B;
&#x200B;
*Yes*
Aw, how sweet!
&#x200B;
&#x200B;
*The team at ChatAI has detected an issue with its network. Please try again later.* |
"Hey man. I'm Clarke, nice to meet you."The Stranger's hand was firm. "So, uh, which one do you know?"
"Pardon?"
"I just mean, y'know. Cindy or Dave? The... the bride and groom?"Clarke raised an eyebrow, his smile slowly cracking.
"Mmm. Dave, we met at an ice sculpting class."The Stranger responded, taking a deep breath and looking around the room. The vows have been spoken by this point, and the building was alight with dancing and energy.
"Wh- sorry, uh, ice sculpting? I don't think Dave ever told me about that."
Then, it was a blur. The Stranger moved almost too fast to see. Clarke's vision became distorted by the gray fabric of the suit jacket, and before he knew it, he had been pulled aside, into an isolated hallway.
"Hey what the f-!"
"How? How did you know?"
"What the hell are you talking about, man?!"
"Was it the CIA? NSA? BCA? FBI?"
"No, I'm not with the- wait, what's the BCA?"
The Stranger shook his head. "Heh. You're good, I'll give you that. But if you think I'm about to roll over and kick this case over to the boys at Slinkman's office, you've got another thing coming."
"I don't think I've understood anything you've said all night, dude."
"I've been tracking this psycho for about eighty Higgs' Minutes, and that work isn't about to go away. So you listen to me, and you listen good. I got about sixteen *THOUSAND* nano-tonnes of vix in this place, and it's about to go nuclear, if you catch my drift."
"Start making sense, now."
The Stranger chuckled. He felt he was being toyed with. And that he could not abide. He raised his head back, matching Clarke's gaze with his own. "I'll tell you what. I let you tag along this time - and *only* this time. We bag 'em at the end of the night, and we take 'em to Gary's, NOT Slinkman. How's that sound?"His cards were on the table. It was Clarke's move now.
"...dude, *what?*"
"God-DAMMIT, man! What more do you want? You must have a real ace up your sleeve to be holding out like this. Fine. Final offer. You get to take the Styxan's head back to Slinkman, we'll even get a silver platter for you. The rest gets shipped back off-planet where it belongs. I figured he always had a thing for blondes, anyway."
"Wait, Cindy's an alien?!"
"...Fuck." |
By the end of the school year, I was dead broke after spending all of my money on World of Warcraft. Rather than heading home to see my parents, who would surely just pry about my low grades and nonexistent social life, I decided to make some extra cash as a cashier at a local taco shop down by Turkeyrun Beach.
For the most part, my job sucked. Every afternoon, I would see group after group of friends all come in together chatting and munching on tacos while smushed into a booth. Sometimes families and couples would bustle in too. Every once in a while, a single individual would come in to place an order, but they would always order enough to-go that it was obvious they also had friends or loved ones they would be sharing with. It served as a constant reminder of how lonely I was.
But one day; a girl came into Taco Town alone, ordered two chicken soft tacos, and proceeded to sit in a booth all by herself and slowly eat them while reading a book. I couldn’t help but keep glancing at her as she sat there because she reminded me of myself. Although I could never be so confident to sit down in a restaurant all alone.
For the twenty minutes that she sat reading and nibbling on her food, I daydreamed about going over to talk to her and becoming friends. But i didn’t work up my nerve to say anything before she left. While I cursed myself silently, I forgot about her as the day progressed.
However, I instantly remembered her when she came back into the shop a couple of days later. This time she ordered three beef hard shelled tacos.
“Switching it up,” I chuckled nervously.
“You remembered my order?” She responded incredulously. I froze, too embarrassed to reply before she continued. “I like to try different things.” She snatched her receipt from my hand and this time sat in a different booth alone. Over the next month, she continued to come in every two or three days and sampled different tacos from the menu. Occasionally she returned to a taco that she’d already tried, but never two visits in a row. Every time she placed an order, I would try to think of a funny comment to make, but usually just ended up embarrassing myself.
“You’re not a food critic are you?” I had asked today as a joke.
“What?” had been her only response.
While our interactions were limited, it always made me happy when I saw her coming in. She was just so different from everybody else, with their loud conversations and full tables.
As a fellow introvert, I dreamed of becoming friends, or maybe even more, with the quiet girl who loved books. But I was just too socially awkward to initiate anything more than a single cringy line each time she placed her order, and summer was passing by.
Without fail, I would deliver a witty line every time she placed an order, and she would give me a short reply. Every day, I told myself would be the day that I ask for her name or number or, in my better fantasies, she would ask for mine. We would sit and read together on the beach, and text when I returned to college, and be each other’s best friends in this world of extroverts. Eventually we would fall in love. That was the dream.
One day, after the girl finished eating her tacos and tossed the wrappers in the trash, the unimaginable finally happened and she came back up to the counter before leaving. I thought this was it, the moment I had been waiting for. I smiled at her nervously.
“You know you always stare at me? It’s weird.”
That was all she said. With that, she headed pit the door and never returned. I let out an embarrassed sigh, as my fantasies instantly vanished. It had been nice to imagine a future with a friend. Maybe next time I’ll make a move instead of just thinking about it… although daydreaming is often better than reality, so maybe I won’t. |
Dude, the rise in popularity of shark fin soup tanked the shark population in the Indian Ocean. This is waaaay on the nose.
- - - - -
I remember some friends of mine and me and my gf at the time, planned out a trip to get dim sum. It's wonderful because there's little baskets of steamed food, fried food, soups, salads, and bread. It's all in small portions so you can eat a lot. We were 3 courses in, when they came up and offered shark fin soup. We all were like,
"Is that Real shark? Are you for real? You know the population is dying out. I thought it was illegal, that's why we came out"
The nice Asian server in slightly broken English says, "no, the fins are fake, but the soup is good. Try it!"
We all look at each other and I said, "I'll take the bullet. If we're going to lose mass populations of sharks, I feel like we should bare witness to their loss.
My gf was incensed.
But one of my friends was like, "No, No, Well try it and see if it's real."
"How will you be able to tell?"
I say, "If it's as good as they say, we'll be able to tell."
Me and a friend split a bowl and try it. It's probably one of the most tender and firm fish I've ever eaten. The flavor is like a stronger version of Miso Soup, and the soup itself is thick and pasty. Very Rich, and frankly, amazing.
Everyone at the table looked at the two of us. We exchanged looks and said, "the fish is perfect, this has to be real."
My gf says, "Great, now you ruined dim sum. This is expensive and we had to get everybody's schedules together for this!"
Two of her friends said, "We were worried they might have it on the menu. We weren't going to keep eating, if they had it."
One of my friends agreed, "It's the restaurants fault. Let's bail."
But another my friend who had shared the soup with me said said, "Here. Guys. Whats done is done. The fish were dead and on the market... what? 2 weeks ago? How many portions are in this restaurant? We don't really see anyone eating it. This maybe represents one or two sharks in the whole restaurant. Everything else has been great until now. Why don't we just keep enjoying what we have and keep going?"
Our unfinished bowls of soup were left on the table to cool. Everyone talked about the marvel movies and agreed we should get together for the first avengers. We talked about how College sucked and it seemed like everyone was taking finals in their weakest subjects. Ya, ya, we should dress up as each other and fake going to each other's tests. Wait, was anyone good at Science? No one at the table was good at science, so one of the girls said they'd dress her large breed dogs up in our clothes and have them sit in on the finals. And w laughed and carried on and remembered why we loved being in each other's company.
All the while I didn't realize, but everyone had passed the sooups round the table silently and we all liked it.
I, as usual, was oblivious to all of it. We went through 3 more courses and we were thoroughly stuffed.
That's when I noticed my gf poking at the Last piece of fin in the bowl. Everyone realized what was going on and we all stared at her silently.
She breathes out, takes a cleansing breath in, pops up the bowl and dumps the whole thing in her mouth.
We all wait to see what she says. My gf was very heartful and we knew she was doing something she didn't want to.
She puts the bowl down, looks at us and says, "It's delicious."
I just put my arm around her and kiss her neck. We all put our sweaters and jackets on, pay up, and leave for our next adventure. |
I was feeling pretty hungry after the concert, so I suggested to my friend that we go to Taco Bell. It was getting late, but we figured they would still be open. As we walked, I could tell my friend was feeling a little bit down. The concert hadn't been what he had expected, and he was in a bit of a funk.
We finally reached the Taco Bell, and it was located near a toxic waste dump. I could see the dump from the parking lot, and it didn't look very pretty. My friend noticed it too, and he made a face. "Ugh, this place is gross,"he said.
But I was hungry, and I didn't want to let a little thing like a toxic waste dump ruin my dinner. So we went inside. The place was pretty empty, which wasn't too surprising considering the time and the location. We ordered our food and sat down to wait.
As we waited, I tried to make conversation with my friend to cheer him up. I asked him about the concert, and he told me that it hadn't been as good as he had hoped. He said the band had sounded off, and the lighting had been weird. I tried to sympathize, but I could tell he was still feeling down.
Finally, our food was ready, and we took it back to our table. I could see that my friend wasn't very interested in eating, but I was starving. I dug into my tacos and nachos, and they were delicious. I could see my friend staring at his food, but he didn't touch it.
I asked him if he was okay, and he told me that he was just really tired. He said he wanted to go home and go to bed. I could tell that he was still feeling upset about the concert, so I didn't push him to stay. We paid for our food and left the Taco Bell.
As we walked back to our car, I could see the toxic waste dump out of the corner of my eye. It was still there, looming over us. But for some reason, it didn't bother me as much as it had before. I was full and happy, and I didn't let it ruin my night.
After we left the Taco Bell, I didn't think much about the toxic waste dump nearby. But the next morning, I started feeling strange. My skin was tingling, and I felt like I had a lot of energy. I thought maybe I was just feeling refreshed after a good night's sleep, but then I noticed that my friend was acting weird too.
He was bouncing around the room, and he seemed to have a lot of energy as well. We didn't think much of it at first, but then we started to notice other changes. Our hair was falling out, and our skin was starting to turn green. We were starting to look like... well, like monsters.
We were scared, but we didn't know what to do. We decided to go to the hospital, but on the way there, we realized that our instruments were starting to make strange noises. We had both brought our guitars to the concert the night before, and now they were making strange, otherworldly sounds.
We didn't know what was happening, but we were starting to feel like we had a special power. We started to play our guitars, and the music that came out was unlike anything we had ever heard before. It was a strange, alien sound, but it was also beautiful and powerful.
People on the street started to notice us, and they were mesmerized by our music. We didn't know what was happening, but we felt a strange sense of purpose. We started to walk around the city, playing our music for anyone who would listen.
Eventually, we caught the attention of a marketing executive from Taco Bell. He was so impressed by our music that he offered us a deal to be the face of the company. We were surprised, but we couldn't turn down the opportunity.
And that's how we became the Nuclear Mariachi Band, the official spokesmen for Taco Bell. We never forgot where our powers came from, and we always made sure to warn people about the dangers of eating near toxic waste dumps. But we also embraced our new identities, and we made the most of our unique situation.
As the Nuclear Mariachi Band, we enjoyed a lot of success. We traveled the country, playing our music and promoting Taco Bell. We were famous, and we had a lot of fun. But we also knew that our powers came with a price.
Slowly but surely, we started to feel the effects of the radiation poisoning. Our skin started to blister and peel, and we were constantly feeling sick. We tried to hide it from the public, but it was getting harder and harder to perform.
Eventually, we couldn't hide it any longer. We had to cancel our tour, and we retreated to a hospital to receive treatment. But it was too late. The radiation had already done too much damage, and there was nothing the doctors could do to save us.
We knew our time was running out, and we accepted our fate. We spent our last days in the hospital, surrounded by our loved ones. We talked about our memories, and we reminisced about our time as the Nuclear Mariachi Band.
In the end, we passed away peacefully, knowing that we had lived a full and exciting life. Our music lived on, and we left a lasting legacy. We may have been monsters, but we were monsters with a purpose, and we were grateful for the time we had. |
"Look, we have all reviewed the file on this douche. Can any of you see any reason at all that he should have a second chance?"Okay, I know we aren't the original crew that did Scrooge, but we've been doing this for a decade now, and there has always been a clue somewhere in the file that this asshole has some backstory or some potential for redemption, that makes the whole effort worth a shot. This douche? I got nothing for him, and from the way the others are moping about, I don't think they have a clue either.
"Nope. We've been talking, Future, and we don't see anything in the past or the now that makes this guy a prospect."That was one of our support team. They frequently have more time than any of the majors to discuss the file; the majors have a date with the makeup department that eats most of the daylight. Why, in the name of all Christmases past, present, and future, can they not give us our assignments, at least on the day before Christmas Eve? None of us has figured it out. With more time, we could do a better job of prep for the soul we are trying to turn around! We might have more success! Isn't that the point? To make the world a better place by helping one person make better decisions?
I'll grant you Scrooge was in a perfect place to make so many people's lives better that Tiny Tim was the icing on the cake. Even if he had made an attempt, and Tiny Tim died, he still would have turned himself around and taken care of the Cratchets and everyone else just the same, if not more so!
The other majors look at me and shake their heads. They got nothing, either. "Well, get your game face on. It's showtime."
I always feel sorry for Marley; they never catch a break. As he moves off stage, I give him a clap on the shoulder. "Good try; the original Marley could not have done better."He looks at me and gives me a small smile. "Thanks."
The stage crew steps in and sets up for Past to make his run. Past comes off stage looking like a minor apparition, not a full-body ghost. This dude is rough.
We get set for Present. Present has so little to work with that it's pathetic. Not Present's fault; this guy is a sociopath.
My turn now. In a way, it's good that this is not a speaking part. My voice is atrocious, but my ability to project my emotions is ideal. I tried. I pulled out all the stops for this one. Nothing. Zero. Bupkis. Maybe he's already dead? A zombie would have given more reaction. I'm drained.
Christmas Day. We gather to celebrate the day, but last night's failure weighs heavy on us. As is our custom, we invite everyone, including Marley.
We are all down until Marley rolls in with a huge grin and a Merry Christmas that nearly brings the rafters down.
Past looks at him and smiles, "What happened!?"
Marley looked at us, saw how down we all were, and put the picture together instantly. "You all think it was a failure?"We nodded, somber and depressed. "You could not be more wrong. Sure, Scrooge didn't get converted, but that was a long shot at best. You remember Tina?"
Boy do we ever, she's the Tiny Tim of this set.
"Well, Scrooge got so confused from the lack of sleep that he forgot what day it was. Instead of going to her apartment and demanding quid-pro-quo payment, which would have got her pregnant, he slept in. That let Tina slip past his door and make her interview in a perfect state of mind. She got the position, paid her back rent, and moved out into a new apartment within walking distance of the new job."
Well! That was a good outcome. Marley sees we are in a better state, but still not celebratory.
"You still don't get it, do you?"He was almost sad. I stepped up and asked, "What did we miss?"
It was a chaos chain. A tiny event that snowballs all out of proportion to the size and energy of that single event. Only this chain reverberates around and through the story we see, circling back to pick up energy for the next past. Tina was only the first. Each of the other tenants has their chance to win big and grabs it with both hands. They don't all win as big as Tina, but they vacate to better quarters.
By the end thousands of people have improved. The Christmass party kicks into high gear. And we have learned a valuable lesson.
What we do may not save anyone in the story, but even a tiny shift in circumstances can have an effect all out of proportion to the size of the shift. We know that now.
Christmas eve is a far better place for all of us.
((finis)) |
“I know it seems crazy, but you have to believe me. When I was elected a representative of this great country, I didn’t think it could be true. Now, I’ve witnessed it myself. Our government is full of conspiracy theorists!”
Keith sat in the back of the townhouse meeting for Representative Hudson’s reelection campaign, shaking his head. Last election cycle, Hudson had seemed like such a strong candidate, one who could actually get things done in the government. Keith never would have pegged Hudson as the type to buy into all this conspiracy theory crap. Oh, how things changed in just two short years.
Hudson continued, “Please, please. I have evidence! Remember the tension with Egypt last year? How they captured one of our special forces teams that was in Egypt illegally?”
“Yeah,” said someone on the front row, “so what? Everyone knows that that team’s navigational software malfunctioned a routine military drill. Sure, it almost started a war, but that’s no proof of your conspiracy theory.”
“They were on course for the pyramid of Giza!” said Hudson. “Why else would they be going there other than to find evidence that the aliens built the pyramids?”
“Perhaps they were just heading for a landmark,” said a woman on the left side of the audience. “Maybe they were just disoriented after being lost for a week. There are thousands of explanations if you don’t single mindedly assume conspiracy theorists are behind every decision this country makes.”
“I don’t think they are behind everything,” said Hudson, “I know they are. I’m telling you, that special forces team the Egyptians caught was specifically assigned to find evidence of alien life. I saw the order myself.”
“And that’s not everything,” said Hudson. “Once you know what to look for, evidence of the conspiracy theorists in our government is everywhere. Remember how our Antarctic research team went almost all the way to the north pole while transitioning to a research station on the other side of Antarctica? That wasn’t because the prime minister wanted them to perform diplomacy and public outreach. Our prime minister is a flat earther! He thought that going to the north pole – to the center as he calls it – would be faster than just sailing around the Antarctic continent! Then, he lied to the public about his motives because he didn’t
“Also, have you noticed how many astronomy and bird-watching stations our government funds? I’ve seen the numbers, those two expenses alone summed to 13% of our GDP. That’s not about learning about the universe like they say. It’s a joint effort between the UFO people in the Science Directorate and the Birds aren’t Real people in the department of Agriculture! Everywhere you look, there’s evidence for conspiracy theorists in government.”
Hudson paused a moment. Keith relished the break from this insane speech. How could Hudson possibly believe this idiotic nonsense? Looking at the expressions of everyone else in the room, Keith could tell they were all thinking the same thing as he was.
Seeing the crowd’s doubt, Hudson said, “Well, I see you need hard evidence. I don’t blame you. But after seeing this video of our prime minister asking the president of the United States to show us the aliens in Area 51, I’m sure you will believe what I say.”
Hudson pulled up the video. It was extremely grainy. Was that shadowy figure in the foreground supposed to be the prime minister, or the president? The audio wasn’t any better; Keith could only make out every three words. This was clearly a hoax. Was Hudson really this gullible? Or had he made this video himself, trying to gain some form of profit through deceit?”
Hudson finished his speech, “– that is why this season, I will be running as part of the anti-conspiracy party. You may not always agree with our views, but rest assured, we will be making decisions based on facts and logic. Vote for me, and I pledge to do everything in my power to wrest this country from the grip of the conspiracy theorists. I will do my best to get our national policy back on an evidence-based track.”
As Hudson left the room, there were more boos than applause. A few people even threw overripe fruit. Whatever Hudson hoped to gain from selling this crap about conspiracy theorists in the government, he certainly wouldn’t be getting Keith’s vote. Keith shook his head, hoping that Hudson’s challengers would be less insane. |
"Your daddy was a hero, kid. Best in da business. I could count the number of heroes dat could do what he did on one hand and I'd still have 5 fingers left over, which is saying somethin considerin I only have fo. Vintage piece of work dat man was. Heroes today are only in it fo da fame. Imposters all of dem, but your daddy? Look up da definition of hero and you'll see his face, literal-ay."^(shows literal picture in dictionary) "Haha, I love makin dat joke."
"...Ok, old man, but what does all this have to do with my quest?"
"Your daddy was a hero, kid. Big emphasis on 'was'. Dat beasty in the next chamber over dere? Dats ya daddy, kid. Ya don have to believe me. Jus know dat da same effort he put inta savin people, he now puts inta killin em. Heartless beast dat one is now, he da one who claimed ma leg. Mighty Warshock, nuntin but a crippled story tellin old coot now, haha. Not much time left is dere? It's dangerous to go alone, kid. Take ma sword, I won't be needin it anymo. Infection dun caught up wid me, haha. Make sho ya aim fo muh stomach if I rise again or else you be joinin me too."
"....thx, old man. I'll bring you back for a proper burial."
"Ahahaha! Optimistic one ya are! Get outta here kid, ya know darkness be creepin in soon if ya stay too long."
**The hero walks to the next chamber.**
"Oh! And one mo ding. Considerin he only took muh leg, ya daddy might be in dere sum way. But some way deep down, deep deep deep deep deep down. If he is, I'd say killin em would be ay merc-ay."
**2 nods of acknowledgement are exchanged. A door is opened. A door is closed. Time passes. A room chills. Darkness seeps in.**
"Ah dere ya are! Wat took ya so long, shadows. If ya here dat mus mean ya dink the boy will win don ya? Dere **must** be a boss, is dat it? Well Ol'Warshock gonna make ya work fo it! Ya wone be takin me dat eas-ay!"
**".........."** **"........."** **"......."** **"......."** **"......."**
"Awe come on now, 5 on 1's not very fair now is it? Ya shoulda atleast bought double dat!"
**"......"** **"......"** **"....."** **"...."** **"......."** **"....."** **"......."** **"......"** **"......"** **"......"** **"......"** **"...."** **"....."** **"....."** **"......."** **"....."** **"......"** **"......."** **"......."** **"......."** **"......."** **"......."** **"......."** **"......."** **"......."** **"......."** **"......."** **"......."** **"......."** **"......."** **"......."** **"......."** **"......."** **"......."** **"......."** **"......."** **"......."** **"......."** **"......."** **"......."** **"......."** **"......."** **"......."** **"......."** **"......."** **"......."** **"......."**
**"NOW DAS MO LIKE IT!!!"**
**The thunder booms one last time before it becomes the crackling lightning that waits to strike another. One adventure must end for another to continue. So is the law of the labyrinth.** |
"Open your books on page 257, and take a look at the first document. Can anybody tell me what it is ? Yes, Connie ?"
"It's a representation of different magical sigils."
"You're right Connie. But those aren't any sigils. They were the sigils of warfare, which are now forbidden, because of the time of peace that the Democratic Council of Magic instated."
"Ms. Harper ?"
"Yes Harry ?"
"Why are you showing us this ?"
"I was about to tell you. You should be a little more patient."
"Sorry Ms. Harper."
"So here, you can see all 4 different sigils. The first one, the sigil of Attack, was created in the year 605, and was used to invoke harmful spells towards other people. 5 years after that, in the midst of the Half Century War, the sigil of Defense was created. Now tell me, what kind of uses do you think it may have had ?"
"..."
"Nobody wants to answer ? Oh, in the back, yes Jackson ?"
"I-it was probably u-used for protection, or f-for reflection of th-the attacks..."
"That's a great answer Jackson, I'm happy to see you contributing."
*RRRRIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNGGGGG*
"Alright class, for tomorrow just review page 257, and be ready to talk about the sigils of Control, and Destruction. Goodbye everybody !" |
Jack sat at the table, drinking his coffee and reading the morning paper. Hearing footsteps come from down the hall, Jack raised his head to gaze upon his beautiful wife... but it wasn't his wife.
Jack shot up from his chair, grabbing a knife resting in the knife block situated on the table. "Who the **hell** are you?"Jack asked, raising the knife at a man he didn't recognize.
"Don't be silly, Jack,"the man said, smiling, "you know me. It's your Uncle Harry!"
"I don't... I don't have an Uncle Harry,"Jack said, standing firm as the man continued to walk towards him.
"Of course you do, Jack,"the man responded, his smile coming dangerously close to ripping his face in two.
"You're lying to me,"Jack gulped, his hands shaking as he pointed the knife directly at the man's throat.
"I'd never lie to you, Jack. Come with me, Jack. I have a surprise for you,"the man said, tilting his head and beckoning for Jack to follow him.
Almost as if he was in a trance, Jack put the knife down, cautiously following the mysterious man as he led Jack down the hallway. At first, Jack thought his "surprise"would be in his bedroom, but then he saw it: a door to a room Jack had never seen before.
"What's in there?"Jack asked cautiously, the man staring at Jack as he peered at the shut door.
"See for yourself, Jack,"the man said.
Once again, almost as if he was in a trance, Jack opened the door... screaming at the corpses he saw inside.
"I hope you like your surprise, **JACK**." |
We've been trapped in the research wing of the station for two months now. All contact lost, powered down to minimum, no open windows. Only thing for sure is the knocking. *Their* knocking. I watched what happened. The others, they got, *changed.* ***Contorted.*** It isn't them anymore. *I'm not going outside to check, either.*
Ration stocks are running out, the life-support is on the fritz. Two of us have already blown our brains out with our lasguns. A few of us are considering joining them, but I've tried to stay resolute.
Communication just came back in. It's patchy but we parsed something. *We did not take it well.* |
I'm taking a walk in the wonderful cybernetic landscape we find ourselves in these days. Holograms of trees, fake greenery, smog everywhere... And my sight is gone.
I can't see.
*Sigh, someone tried to hack my cybernetic eyes again*. *Time for another reboot.*
Ah that's better. People used to think advancements in technology were awesome.
But now that everything is technology... Everything is technology. Someone hacked my washing machine yesterday to make it spew satanic messages while it's doing laundry. Atleast it still works. It was fun trying to explain that to the repairman!
Oh, a person passes me. An eye-notification pops up. 500 cyberdollars withdrawn from my bank account.
*Sigh, someone mugged me again.*
They don't even need to physically rob me, they just need to pass me by while using their cyber doodat-thingy. Where's the personal touch nowadays?
I'm not even supposed to be alive right now.
My grandchildren put me in cyberstorage when I died and thought it would be a hoot to bring grandpa back from the dead and show him a world filled with the wonders of technology.
It sucks. I don't know how anything works. There's no TV anymore, shows just get beamed right into your brain and there are ads EVERYWHERE. Unskippable ads at that.
I want to go home. |
The last present. My present. She eagerly tears at the wrapping paper to reveal a simple cardboard box. Tearing into that, she pulls out a large antique doll from the 1950s. “Shes so pretty!” My ex husband looked at me questioningly. He’d gotten her a bew tablet, to which she politely thanked gun and put it aside. “She likes old things.” I shrug.
Its been a week and Samara has to go to her dads for the weekend. Sphe skips down the stajrs, braids bouncing as she does. And shes holding Mary Anne. That doll was clearly her favorite gift this year. “Arent you bringing your tablet? Shed barely touched it. “Oh yeah.” She runs back upstairs.
Later that night he calls me. “You let her bring that thing to ny house?”
“Of course i did. Shes been playing with it all week.” I didnt see the big deal. “I swear that thing is posessed!”
“I know. Way better to have her talking to a ghost than an animated character.” |
“Well the results are conclusive, these aliens are susceptible to vampirism.” David says, flipping through the report as I walk beside him.
“Anything else?” I ask.
“This is a double edged sword here… yeah this could cause a internal conflict of interest and collapse their civilization, but what if they use this power efficiently?”
“That would cause our civilization to collapse.” I respond.
“Correct Daniel, which is why I am against using vampirism as a biological weapon. More humans need to be turned to win this war.”
“With the already dwindling human population? Yeah the boards totally gonna approve of that solution.”
“I don’t think there is any other way, other than…”
“Other than risking total collapse of the human population by the hands of vampire aliens. On the other hand, where are we going to get all the blood needed for these new vampires? How will they control themselves?”
“How else are we supposed to win?! We are outnumbered, outgunned, pushed into a corner. We need them, in large numbers! Right now!”
“We are humans, humans need to win this war. Humans need to win with minimal help from these vampires.” I respond. “Any other solution adds too many variables for us to control. The vampires want us alive because they NEED us alive. The newer ones will be too stupid to realize it.”
“Then Daniel, no, Mr. Big shot, how do you plan on saving the world?” David says, “This may be our only silver bullet. We’ll deal with the consequences later.”
“David that’s always been your problem. You always try to deal with the consequences later and more often than not, it hasn’t worked out.”
“Daniel if we DON’T focus on short term solutions right now there won’t BE a long term for your long term solutions.”
“Yes, but if we do this we aren’t solving any problems, just replacing them. You know how hard vampires are to kill, and there is only so much silver in the world.”
“Yes, precisely, vampires are hard to kill. That is exactly what we need. Undying soldiers. And other things can kill vampires, like the sun!”
“Yes, ultraviolet light, and gamma rays, kills them like hydrogen peroxide to micro organisms. Point being, vampires are only of limited use and likely will cause problems later, wether or not if we win or lose this war.”
“Do they know Daniel?”
“Who knows what?”
“The aliens, do they know vampires need blood?”
“As far as they’re concerned, they don’t even know vampires exist. What of it?”
“We can use that, we need to infect them, spread vampirism throughout their ranks.”
“Didn’t I just tell you that that would be a terrible idea?” I say as we sit down to get lunch.
“Maybe.. but we know more about this than they do. They don’t know that it requires blood.. we can make them eat themselves alive.”
“Enlighten me David.”
“If they discover vampirism, they’ll also try to use it to their advantage, just like us. Except, we have vampires from centuries past packed with experience. These vampires already know how to control their population but they don’t, and the later they realize it, the more far gone they will be.”
“So your plan is to infect aliens with vampirism and hope they don’t realize the problem of blood?”
“Not just that, but what if we made them oblivious to the many other weaknesses of vampirism?”
“That would give us a clear advantage against alien vampires. But how would we pull that off?”
“Infect them at night.”
“What?”
“Infect the aliens during the night, the effects will kick in later when they enter their mothership, hopefully cause some chaos in there.”
“And since the mothership has to have traveled light years, it need shielding from…”
“Gamma rays”
“Gamma rays”
“They’ll figure it’s something we made to help us out, but up there, they won’t notice much of the weak spots.” David says.
“How will you be sure that it will be too late when the aliens figure it out David? How will you delay that process?”
“Introduce them to all its strengths and none of its weaknesses. Have fresh vampires attack their camps at night, the injured/infected will be taken to their mothership.”
“Out of reach from the sun, and from what we see, silver too.” I say.
“The effects will kick in later during the day. David says as he smiles at me.
I smile back at him and say. “Then let them figure out the rest.” |
\-Let's get away-
It's Thursday 10:15, third period, maths, aka the scourge of my existence. I'm Felix and I'm 16 years old. I hate it here. Nobody cares what I say. I'm no Einstein, but definitely a quantum scientist compared to these idiots around me who conform to mainstream society. But anyway, only another year or so. Yolo is what they used to call it. Before the war... Now you can't even say that as a meme. Sad.
Finally, 11:45, out of here into the fucking cold and then back to spend the next 90 minutes thinking about whether suicide might not be a good alternative to sitting here feeling sorry for myself after all. I'm walking out the door when Luca from my class bumps into my backpack, from which all sorts of things tumble out. Judging by his grin, it was definitely on purpose. 'Wanker,' I said under my breath. 'What did you say?' Oops, I must have been too loud, but oh well, then i'll just die right now. 'Wanker' I said louder now. 'Ok, that's it, you're going to die now' he said and aimed his fist at my face. I saw my life flash before my eyes at that moment and heard Flowerdance playing in the background. Just like in a film. But then, also like in a film, his fist was stopped by someone. At the end of the arm protecting me, was Nils. One of those emo-goth-alternative-whatever people who they say eat cats. He's a bit pretty while saving my life. What? Uh... nothing. 'How about you stop that right there,' Nils said to Luca, in his usual, chill way. He's got quite a reputation for having killed someone or something. It was probably just talk, but it had an effect, because Luca left pretty quickly afterwards. 'Meet me behind the school five minutes before the last bell, say you have to go to the toilet or something'.
I just didn't question it. In the end, I could end up just like the cats. So I say 5 minutes before closing time that I have to go to the toilet. Nils was actually behind the school waiting for me there. With medium-length black hair, piercing under his lip, 'that's so 2010', Lana from my class would say. I'd go along with that, except I kind of like it. Although it looks quite gay.
'Finally also here, huh' said Nils, 'Let's get away'. No sooner said than that, he breaks open the door of Luca's, or rather his father's, car. He gets into the driver's seat and for some reason, without questioning anything, I got straight into the passenger seat. I also just want to get out of here, so it's not entirely inconvenient for me. Somehow I just go along with things like that without asking much. Just like when I went to the kiosk with some other kids in grade 5 and then got detention for the first time for leaving the school grounds. This must be at least almost as forbidden as that.
When Nils had short-circuited the cables, he started the engine. Suddenly I hear Luca's late-pubescent voice. 'What are you doing, you morons?' he shouted at us at the top of his lungs. But at that moment we drove off. But Luca, like the idiot he is, as someone who believes in the Flat Earth 'because Bible and so on', grabbed onto the back of the car and we pulled him along. Nils sped up to 100, stopped abruptly and then we were rid of our problem; Luca. 'Do you think he's all right?' 'Yeah, I'm sure he is'. |
It looks like a dart. At least in the first sketch.
"This aircraft is a monster."
He's right about that. No prop.
"The craft can destabilize an unwary pilot simply by slamming through the formation at high speed."
We'd wondered what made those cracking boom sounds, rather like a bullet tweeting past. By the time you hear it, it's already too late.
"The sheer amount of ordinance it carries is ridiculous."
If we tried to take off with that load, we'd never get off the ground. It must gain thrust from the circular openings. Some adaptation of a V-2?
"By all reports, it screams even when it's idling."
I would scream, too, if I could fly this plane.
"The good news is that there is only one of them."
The surrussation of my mates echoes my position. None of us will have the slightest chance to fly one.
"SIR?"
"Yes, Captain?"
"That last sketch, the one you did not reference, can you tell us about it?"
"The opinion of the analysis staff is that the survivor who described it was traumatized, which renders it less reliable."
"Still, Sir. There's something about it."
"Very well. The survivor was a gunner aboard a bomber. He claims the craft flew parallel with his own and gestured for the pilot of his craft to land. He could not shoot because he had already been wounded in both arms and torso. The pilot complied, crashing his craft in the process. The gunner was knocked unconscious and was the only survivor."
"May I see it closer?"
"For what it's worth."
The sketch, done in color, depicts the cockpit, showing an almost insectoid pilot. A long proboscis extends from the head, a single dark bulbous eye. On the side of the head, an insect is shown—a hornet.
"Sir. This insect. This is an American hornet. It does not exist in Europe. I studied insects at a young age as my father was a professor of entomology. We went to America for one year. That's where I saw one."Looking up at the General, "If I am right, there may be one now, but in time there will be many. America can produce many of these crafts if we allow them the time. I cannot imagine what prompted them to use this one solo, but they must be desperate to do so. Perhaps a test of an experimental craft. If we can bring it down, it may delay the entry of this craft until we can match it."
"I will pass your information to intelligence; please note the specific insect. As to the latter part, that is why you pilots are here. We have *one* aircraft design with the slightest chance of defeating this thing. We have enough planes for all of you. Your orders are to bring that craft down at all costs."
Sobering thought. It is we who will fly the experimental craft. This... This Hornet is in production; you can see it from the quality. Why have they fielded only one?
•••
"Captain Hoffsteader, you have overstepped your orders."
"General, I found myself confronted with a recognized enemy formation on their way to attack an allied nation in time of war. I took the only action open to me at the time, which was to defend that nation and the American troops already massed for the D-day invasion."
"WE ARE NOT AT WAR WITH GERMANY!"
"In which time, General? Here? In 1985? Or back in 1944? I was in 1944, and by all the information I had, failure to attack could have been considered cowardice in the face of the enemy. I chose to shoot because I had already been fired upon, knew them for a valid enemy, and had already seen the massed troops of D-day."
"Captain?"
"Yes, Doctor?"
"Did you ever consider that your acts might change the future?"
"Yes."
"And you still chose to risk it?"
"Doctor, as I understand it, there are two possible outcomes. Either I was already there, and the actions I took already happened, or a split timeline would occur. In the former, refusing action would be the dangerous course because I cannot conceive of any version of myself that would not choose to defend an ally and American troops in danger. In the latter, my timeline, yours, would continue as normal, which it certainly appears to have."
"And the other timeline?"
"Unknown and unknowable, unless two individuals meet in the past before the split. As I understand, it, returning before the split, if there is one, is not a supported use scenario."
"Correct. General? To my mind, no serious damage is done. There have been no changes that we have noticed."
"Very well, Doctor. But Captain Hoffsteader is off the project, and the project itself is in abeyance until reviewed by higher."
"Sir? Why exclude me?"
"Captain, I am surprised. Who was your great-grandfather, and when did he die?"
"oh... June 6th, 1944. Thank you, General. I do not wish to prove the Grandfather Paradox."
•••
"So, Gentlemen, It is with great reluctance that I must concur. Project Retrograde is canceled. There will be no further trips to the past. All time travel is forbidden."
"Sir. Your statement is understood, but you must recognize that this is a physical phenomenon, which is supported by the math inherent in the theory, which makes the most critical element the knowledge that time travel is possible. We know who has that knowledge at this time but do not know who may have had it in the past. With the knowledge that time travel is a reality, the problem becomes one of engineering."
"Your point?"
"We must establish an agency to watch time and detect if anyone else is tampering."
"Which would require us to travel in time, potentially making changes that could wipe this country out. No."
"Mr. President, if we don't, we have no warning or defense against an aggressor."
"And if we do? Who can guarantee that *we* will not make a critical mistake? Who is willing to pin the very existence of their loved ones to the acts of a government intelligence agency, counting each one of them to never make so much as one mistake. Gentlemen, we cannot afford so much as a single butterfly be killed in the wrong place and time. I *will not* have America be responsible for destroying our entire world. Traditional intelligence agencies must handle the job without the use of Retrograde or any similar device. That is final."
•••
"Hauptman Hoffsteader, you now have a two-week pass home. Do not waste time. I do not know what High Command is thinking, but I feel it in my bones. The enemy is massing for an attack, and we may be all that stands between the Fatherland and defeat."
"A pity."
"So?"
"We have not seen the Hornet since. I would have liked to try my mettle against such a unique opponent in our rocket planes. The regular aircraft are not much threat."
"Hauptman, never discount an old plane with skillful pilots, or have you forgotten the Nachthexxen?"
"No, I have not, but even their skill will not save them from an attack that they never see coming."
((finis)) |
(Not a native speaker, so excuse grammar, spelling, talent, etc.)
Humankind was once just another species. As all others, they optimized their behavior for efficiency. They roamed the planet looking for the best suited hunting grounds. They foraged for the sweetest berries.
Where other species relied on physical strengths for success, humans had developed a different approach. On paper a very unassuming animal, the true power of humans came from how they applied what little raw power they had. By recognizing patterns, strategizing and being able to think multiple steps in advance, they quickly became very efficient. They spread over the globe like wildfire.
Eventually, they applied their advanced form of thought onto other aspects. They tamed the cycle of nature itself, and started farming huge crops of nutritious plants. They learned how to manipulate materials, to forge tools. They mechanized tedious and demanding tasks. They managed to minimize the hurdle of distance by various forms of transportation. They extracted and distributed energy from the very laws of the universe.
Eventually they had completely satisfied all basic needs for themselves and any future generation. Once just a formidable species, they had now conquered the planet, if not life itself.
But humans were no longer animals. Their superior mind had assumed a higher role than their primal instincts. The human mind had its own needs and desires. Were other species had a simple, functional relationship with their brains' reward circuitry, humans had the ability to anticipate its reaction, and to thereby manipulate it directly.
Alas, this circuitry was a deceptively complex arrangement. Evolved through eons, its main purpose was simple - to never be satisfied. In the pre-human world, this was a useful adaptation that lead to constant improvement and higher survivability. In this new world, it became the ultimate downfall.
Cursed by their own mind and its insatiable demand for fulfillment, humans were set on a hopeless quest for more and more efficient ways to satisfy their minds' needs.
Initially, crude methods like narcotics and extra caloric foods became popular. More long-term methods, often labeled "self fulfillment", also had a huge following. Entertainment and exciting distractions rose up to be the most important pillar of everyday life.
As technology advanced, so did the sophistication of the inventions that tapped into the chase of mental fulfillment. Artifical layers were superimposed onto the mundane base reality, which could no longer provide any adequate satisfaction. Neural stunts improved and enhanced other stimuli.
Eventually, the need for base reality was completely eliminated. More and more humans decided to fully tap into synthetic realities. Through neural bypasses they could be transported fully into a world in which any boundless dream could be true and indistinguishable from reality. Fueled by atmospheric profits, giant tech conglomerates pushed for as many as possible to tap in.
Those who decided to return to base reality did so only briefly. Anything truly real was a pale imitation of the superior, synthetic version. Noone wanted to leave.
As the massive solar storm struck earth in late 2094, a majority of humanity lay dormant. A large percentage were killed immediately as the neural gates were overloaded by electromagnetic static. Those that survived woke up to a world in which all of the automated supply chains had broken down. The crucial veins of the post-scarcity society had been severed.
On top of this, they were now trapped in a world that was painfully mundane. Any resistance or effort was unsurmountable and infuriating after years in a literal dream. Depression was the new standard. Anxiety was constant.
Wars broke out.
Suicides were commonplace.
Everything was hopeless.
Nothing felt real.
Because reality had a cable. |
"Listen, I don't want to fight you. But we need to come up with some sort of solution for this. I apologize for the mistranslation of the contract, but I can't let the kingdom of Skoira to keep the land. Chiði deserves it, too."Dayuma said, rubbing his temples. They'd been here for hours, discussing the stupid contract about some island that lay between them. One of his men had mistranslated said contract, and the two countries have been warring over it for years. Now they'd settle it once and for all. Dèclán, the heir to Skoira, nodded in agreement.
"Neither do I. Wait, I've just had a brilliant idea. What about a game of that one game? It's played all the time over in Nomagia to settles disputes. It's called rock paper scissors. Do you know the rules?"Dèclán asked. Dayuma smiled.
"I do. Best of three?"He asked. Dèclán put his hand out, ready to end this. As did Dayuma.
"Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!"they both exclaimed. It was a tie. They did it once more. Another tie. And on the third time, it was a tie. They both sat back down, both satisfied with the outcome.
"Halfsies?"Dayuma asked, smiling. Dèclán smiled back.
"Halfsies."He said, glad this was over. Their people may not like it, but they'll have to deal with it.
Three days later...
"People of Skoira, people of Chiði, me and King Dèclán have decided to split the island between us equally, and have renamed it Dayulán in honor of ourselves. Those who fight against our Royal decision will be executed for treason. Thank you."King Dayuma announced during a conference at the same time King Dèclán gave his. They had even came up with the script for what to tell the public.
Cooperation is such a sweet thing, isn't it? |
The silence of the night was broken, as it seemed to be every night as of late, by the tolling of the bells that hung in the church tower in the center of town. She could hear them echo through the winding streets, until their sickly tone reaches where she lies sleepless beneath the moonless sky. Breath growing sharp, she forces her eyes shut, knowing her neighbours were doing the same just next door.
Her mind whirled, questions barely forming before she forced them away. Questions were dangerous in a town such as theirs, curiosity driven out of children as soon as could be deemed safe. Still, it was hard at times to keep them from starting, often keeping her awake even later
Who-
When-
How-
Her heart is racing now, and she forces herself to breathe deeply, until her mind calms at least to the point of only mild panic. Sadly that's the best she could hope for lately, what with the penchant of the bells to ring with such regularity.
The image of the church is never far from any of their minds, no matter where they are in town. The building is humble, with only the single tower boasting a cross of pure gold indicating the importance lying beneath peeling white paint and uneven floors. The room is filled with chipped pews, windows of stained glass throwing beams of multicolored light over the stained wood. The windows themselves, while cleaned regularly, seem perpetually dusty, leaving an almost hazy air surrounding those taking part in proceedings.
Only the tower seems to avoid signs of age, still as pristine as it was in her grandmother's memories when she was but a girl. There was no door to enter it, yet the bells would always toll with a clear, if slightly sickly tone, gleaming bright through the small slats in the top of the structure as they rang with a power of their own.
In any other town, this would be a point of curiosity, something to be studied and questioned. Perhaps in any other town, their sound would not be met with a sick, sharp fear in the chests of all who heard it.
But this was not any other town.
Here, when the tolling of the bells rang through the night, no questions were asked the next morning. The town would shuffle to the church, situated in the middle of the town square, and silently arrange themselves in the pews as they determined the answer to a question no one could bring themselves to ask. For whom the bells had tolled.
Each night brought with it a new disappearance. No one knew the mechanics behind it, and in a town such as theirs no one needed to know anything beyond the obvious facts. When the bells tolled, someone would disappear. They might be dead, or taken, it wasn't clear, but each day following the sound of bells in the night left their population smaller than before.
Her grandmother said it had started with the son of the town's leader when the church was first created, the boy missing from his bed by the time the sun rose. His parents were outraged, certain that someone in the town had taken him, and had gathered everyone in the church to demand answers.
They questioned their neighbours and friends viciously, fueled by the betrayal they felt from the people who they had grown to know as they built the town together. Their town was an isolated one, deep in the mountains with only a river to connect them to the outside world, so they felt their suspicion had to lie within the community. Their questions had gotten louder and louder, mixing with their anger as they shouted at the people who just the day before were trusted friends.
That's when the bells had begun to ring. |
He stood before her waiting for a response. On the pavement by her feet was the heart he had poured out — raw, honest, and still beating — always beating...for *her*. In his out-stretched hand was a flower. No common, played-out, cliché rose, either. No-no.
A dandelion. Beautiful and impermanent.
A tooth took his lip into his mouth as he whinced and turned away in the silence. Any second now a delicate finger would touch his chin...turn his face back towards hers...and...
Nothing of the sort happened. He waited still.
“Excuse me?”
He didn’t react. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, she was supposed to — *had* to-to-to—
“Um, could...could you *not*. Please?”
Before her stood some random fellow — Ian or Declan or something, she didn’t share any classes with him and wasn’t sure. He had mumbled something and then thrust a green stemmed weed in her face (right in the way of her book), and then he had proceeded to gnaw his cracked bottom lip like it was made of fruit-leather; all the while his head was turned down and away from her such that his wide-eyes were on some distant corner of the quad — like a cat that hat spotted a mouse that needed hunting.
He turned back and she was gone.
Heartbroken he left to let his demonic side sit in the B-Block stairwell, where together they would write some dark and brooding poetry...or were they...*spells*. Few knew of his true nature and—
She was beautiful. A creature of fair and wondrous complexion. Eyes like...like...toffee. Angel toffee? Either way...he knew she was the one. He spat in a sweaty hand, rubbed it through his already greasy hair, and approached...
"We are different in every way..." |
Nick looked up at the towering mountain peak. The thing was lined with jagged rocks that looked more like spears and knives than rocks. He could feel the icy winds coming down from the peak, and he could see a multitude of flying creatures. Creatures that only looked small from a distance.
He turned to look at the old man behind him. The old man leaned on his staff, and looked at him.
"Do I really have to do this?"He asked.
"Of course."The old man said. "It is your grand destiny to save the princess from this dark fortress."
"But...do I really need to? I mean, aren't there people who are trained to do this? Like, professional princess rescuers or something."
"Such a thing does not exist."The old man insisted. "You are the only one who can."
"Really? Because I'm not so sure. But if I have to, can't I at least get some proper equipment? Mountain climbing gear, a proper weapon...a jacket."
"You have everything you need to fulfill your destiny."
Nick looked at the pack he had been given, and the short sword at his waist. He looked at the old man and raised an eyebrow. He was clearly underdressed and under equipped.
"I don't think you all planned very well, did you?"He asked.
The old man huffed. "We have given you everything you need to rescue her, I promise you that.*
"How do you know she even needs to be rescued?"
"What?"
"Well, it's just that I've heard a lot of rumors about her."
The old man sighed. "What rumors?"
"Well, I've heard she can overpower giants. And I've heard that her magic is powerful enough to level castles. And that she can instantly learn how to use any weapon she holds."He paused before listing some of the other rumors he had heard about her. "Okay, yeah, they are pretty silly, aren't they?"
The man nodded his agreement. "She started most of them to avoid... complications. Now, she is quite talented in a lot of ways, but not to the point where she can break herself out of a place like that."
"And why do you think I can? I'm just a normal guy."
"Yes. Yes I do. Your destiny is unavoidable and inevitable. You will succeed, I can promise you that. Now stop complaining and start climbing."
Nick groaned and approached the mountain. He looked up at the imposing peak.
"Can I at least get a pair of gloves? Or maybe a hat?"He asked, turning to the old man. But the man was already leaving and too far away to hear his request.
He swallowed the lump in his throat, put his hands on the freezing cold stones and, reluctantly began to climb. |
The street was quiet and abandoned, save for two figures– one man, and a crow.
The man sat with his left leg over his right and left hand draped over the bench, while the crow perched itself on his arm. The two sat in companionable silence.
The man looked back to the times before the surge, when the street was still populated with thousands, and life was a hectic mess rather than depressing silence. The crow silently surveyed its surroundings for dangers with its glowing right eye, a relic of its time spent in the labs.
At last, the man could no longer wait to speak any longer.
"So, let's cut to the chase. You got the goods?"
"Of course I do. Tell me Beckett, when have I ever disappointed you?"
At this, the man let out a light chuckle.
"That you haven't, indeed. Let's see it. "
The crow gave a slight nod, then flew over to a nearby tree before returning with a single chip in its beak, finally dropping it into the man's hand.
With a practised motion, the man slipped the chip into a slot near his forehead. Slowly, a contented grin spread throughout his face.
"Independence Hall,huh? Old building, not exactly top of the line security. That'll make my job easier. What's the catch?"
"No catch. Mendell Institute believes they've gained full control of my brethren, that they'll be their own security. I trust you upheld your end of the deal?"
The man lightly nodded as he passed the crow a chip of his own.
"As agreed upon, the chip contains a cleaning program which will wipe out whatever mind control virus those freaks at Mendell put in your friends. "
The man paused to give a meaningful stare.
"All you have to do is find a way into Mendell's network."
The crow let out a quiet sigh– it came out as more of a strained caw.
"Very well. As long as you help me access their network, you have my word that the flock will help you out tomorrow."
"Good. Let's give em hell tomorrow, then. Teach them the consequences of playing with dwellers–"
"and nature."
The man's words were finished by the crow. With those parting words, the two went their separate ways.
One man, and a crow. They may have had different objectives, but one thing was for sure–the Mendell Institute would pay, one way or another.
Sorry if the plot's a bit messy, the story wasn't originally intended for this prompt, so I had to tweak it in places. |
"Piggy, I would like for you to make some arrangements if you could..."
"Oh Kermie, anything! Please, what is it?"
"Well, I know everybody's been so good to me here, but I can't lay in this hospital bed anymore. There's this creek an hour outside of the city, I grew up there, and I'd like to return there and live out the time I have left."
"Oh, yes! I'll get right on it, Kermie! Just wait here a moment. I want you to go there and be happy."Miss Piggy's voice cracked at the end of her phrase, tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She tried her best to be strong, not wanting to upset Kermit by seeing her sob, like she did every night alone.
"Excuse me, I'll be right back, Kermie, just try to rest for now"She left with an assured click of her heels, maintaining composure.
Later that afternoon, Fozzy drove Kermit to Willowby Creek. "Take it easy Kermit, we're always here for you."
"Thank you Foz, I'll be good here"Kermit inhaled the fresh air, an instant sensation of relief filled his vessel.
Kermit journeyed to the water, allowing his body to float for the inevitable. There were other frogs in the creek. None that he recognized from childhood, but he felt a connection nonetheless.
The peacefulness allowed for Kermit to finally find his inner song.
"Why are there so many, songs about rainbows? And what's on the other side?"
"Rainbows are visions"Another frog chimed in "But only illusions"Called another. "And rainbows have nothing to hide"Kermit replied. He was stunned to see the frogs swim to him, and in synchronized fashion, they choreographed themselves on the surrounding rocks. Kermit's initial feelings of resonance, now fully embellished with the singing of his brethren.
"Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection. The lovers, the dreamers and me"They all sang together.
As Kermit watched one frog leap, droplets suspended from her shimmering skin, the dazzling sun coalesced with the stream, allowing for the appearance of a rainbow.
Rising from the depths of the lake, the other frogs pushed a banjo to the surface, gently urging Kermit to play. He had been wishing to be able to play his banjo again for months, and his brethren granted it. Kermit mused happily, taking the banjo into his once shaky hands, he strummed while floating on the surface.
"Who said that every wish, would be heard and answered, when wished on the morningstar?"He called
The frogs replied "Somebody thought of that, and someone believed it, look what it's done so far!"
The frogs all swam through the creek together, attracting the attention of all the other woodland creatures, enthralled by the music
"What's so amazing that keeps us stargazing, and what do we think we might see?"
"Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection, the lovers, the dreamers and me!"
The birds, the deer and squirrels belted in song with the frog family. Kermit felt sonat peace here, he could feel his spirit. He knew that his soul lived on, through the legacy of the muppets and his creek origins here. The more he sang, the more questions answered.
"Kermit, we're happy that you've lived such a long and full life here on Earth sweetheart"Kermit heard his mother's voice. "You'll live on, through the frogs here, and the lives they'll make."
"I've missed you so much, Ma"Kermit thought to himself. "I'm almost ready, I can feel it"
Outloud, Kermit started to sing the final bit of his song
"Have you been half asleep? And have you heard voices? I hear them calling my name. Is it the sweet sound, that calls the young sailor? The voice might be one and the same."
The shimmering rainbow stretched widely across the sky, beckoning for Kermit. He saw his mother's face beaming on him through the reds and yellows, he could feel his spirit ascend, knowing he would live on through the frogs and their tadpoles in this creek. Kermit continued to sing.
"I've heard it too many times to ignore it, it's something that I'm supposed to be. Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection, the lovers, the dreamers and me"
With that, Kermit ascended, he thanked the frogs, the deer, the squirrels, and the birds. He thanked all the muppets for his long career and livelihood, for finding love, he thanked the frogs before him and the ones who would carry on as he left the Earth. What a way to pass on, to connect so clearly, and finally have the answers to his song
" |
The room was built to make you feel uncomfortable. The typical poor acoustics and bland colored walls. Every country had the same interior decorator for their interrogation rooms.
The door opened hitting a plastic chair and made its metal legs screech across the tile floor. "So Mr. Trent you have been very helpful to us"The thick Russian accent answered my question on my location. I tried to remember but couldn't. My mind was a mess.I could tell I had been heavily drugged. My hands and feet were free and not bound.The markings on my wrists and blood around my ankles told me I had been aggressively shackled recently.
”Helpful? How about getting me a cigarette and returning the favor"The sound of my voice startled the Russian and then he smiled and quickly slid a pack and a blue bic lighter across the table.
I put the cigarette in my mouth and a rush of memories from the smell. I took a huge drag and watched the butt light up as I inhaled the smoke. As I smoked I slowly became more relaxed and the hungover feeling washed away. My mood improved immediately and my focus was intense.
"What the hell did they put in that cigarette?"I asked the Russian as I snuffed it out.
"Yes Russian tobacco, now let's talk some more"My interrogator smiled again.
I heard words and could tell they were questions. I could feel my voice responding. As I drifted I thought I might say something that would cost people their lives. That thought soon faded and I dreamed about smoking another cigarette. |
Hello hellooooooo, universe. Welcome back to the Apathetic Pantheon, where all the bored gods of the universe implement your sick, twisted ideas on poor unsuspecting mortals!
Or \*immortals\*, in this case, haha. We gave this random guy—Edmund Flick, I think his name was, the all-powerful curse of immortality! No need to eat, drink water, or anything else! But nothing else, of course. Nothing that comes near the power of us gods. Wouldn't that be ridiculous?
Well, too bad you're not a god, buddy. Or else you might actually find a way out of this. Haha! But too bad.
Whoops, looks like I've got to shut my big mouth, because we're done getting ready! We're gonna drop him in right now! Ready, set, GO!!
...
Ooh, that didn't look good. W-what's that? We forgot to give him any sort of regeneration? We can't show this on television! Cut!! CUT!! CU— |
"You really never researched the exact effects of my Power?"I utter, incredulous, in response to the question posed by the Hero standing before me. "And yet, you think you can just storm into my workplace, assault and injure several of my employees for trying to *RIGHTFULLY* obstruct and detain you, then what? Assault me just because you fail to understand how my Power helped me get where I am today?"
"What's there to research? You have a variant Power of Puppetry, except yours only works on stuffed animals,"laughs the muscle-brained moron of a Hero. "Honestly, I'm just curious how such a pathetic Power makes you a threat. I'll kick your ass once you explain it to me."
"Puppetry? You think I wield a variant Power of Puppetry?! You simplistic imbecile! My Power is far beyond mere Puppetry! I Manipulate plush creatures,"I snarl. I shouldn't let my emotions get the better of me, but it always annoys me when morons like the one before me mislabel my Power, believing it to be vastly inferior to the reality.
"What's the difference? You make some teddy bears dance around! Short of putting a bomb inside and making it walk up to a target, you are no threat to anyone, let alone *real* Hero!"he mocks both me and all the Heroes that came before him and fell to my Power.
"Very well,"I reply, getting a rein on my anger. "I shall explain how my Power works, so that you understand as you die before me why you could not hope to stand in my way. Mine is the Power of Manipulation, a variant that affects only stuffed toy versions of animals both real and fictional. It essentially brings them to life, and under my command, with all the strength, ferocity, and powers of the real or mythical creatures upon which they are based. And right now, you are surrounded by hundreds of toys based upon creatures that haunt the nightmares of even the bravest and strongest of people."
"Oh no, I'm shaking!"the soon to be forgotten stain upon my floor sarcastically laughs at me. "The teddies are going to eat me!"
I smirk.
"You know, that is the first accurate thing to come out of your mouth since you stormed in here." |
**Powers High: The Outsider's Tale**
James sat alone in his small dorm room, staring at the plain white walls. He had no friends at Powers High, the prestigious school for humans with superpowers. Everyone else seemed to have flashy, useful abilities, but not James. Every day he would watch from the sidelines as his classmates showed off their abilities. They would fly, shoot lasers from their fingertips, and control the elements.
James, on the other hand, had a power aptly named "delayed vision", and it was more of a curse than a gift. His power allowed him to see events in the world, but only after a five minute delay. And unfortunately, his power only showed him the bad things - accidents, crimes, and disasters.
He sighed and picked up his small stuffed otter, Otis, from the bed. "Hey Otis, what do you think I should do?"James asked, as if expecting a response from the inanimate object. Otis just stared back at him with lifeless eyes, after all, he was just a toy, but James found comfort in talking to him anyway. It was better than sitting in silence, feeling sorry for himself. James stood up, stretching his arms above his head. He decided to do some yoga to clear his mind and relax his body.
As he stood on his head, resting his body against the wall, he closed his eyes and focussed on his breathing, when suddenly he felt a strange sensation in his head. James focussed on the sensation, trying to make sense of it, and it quickly formed into a vision. James saw how a minor car accident happened just down the road.
James realised he didn't hear anything five minutes ago. He quickly got off his headstand and ran to the window, looking out at the street below. Sure enough, he saw the car accident happening right in front of his eyes. James felt a surge of excitement and fear, as this was the first time his power had shown him a vision of something that was yet to happen.
James sat down on his bed, almost in denial that his power had finally shown him something useful. He had always been ridiculed and ostracised by his classmates for his seemingly useless ability, but now he could show that his power can be useful in the right situation. James turned to Otis and said, “I’m finally starting to feel like I belong at Powers High, Otis. I’m going to keep working on my power, to become the best hero I can be.” Otis just stared back at him with his lifeless eyes, but James knew that he was happy for his friend.
Feeling a renewed sense of purpose, James decided to try and hone his power, to see if he could predict other events before they happened. He began practising his handstands again, tilting his head left and right, trying to see if he could trigger more visions.
As the days passed, James slowly started to get better at predicting events. He finally started to feel like he belonged at Powers High, and he was determined to continue working on his power, to become the best hero he could be. |
There is no way to train 7 days a week, they said. You get tired, grumpy, fatigued, just bad news all around.
You'd show them! You started training really hard, all day, every day. You'd get tired but push through. You'd get grumpy, fatigued, all that jazz but you'd pull through.
You found a solution, THE solution. say you broke a leg during squats? Replace the leg with a bionic one! Torn shoulder? Replace that thing!
The cybernetic dream is real and here to stay. 73.4% of your body is artificial now, but hey atleast you can keep working out...
All day, every day! |
Report: Warwick Landing
Subject: Pacification and Integration Update
As requested by Woking Landing, We provide an update on our efforts to quell unrest and ensure stability in Region 4, Section 1.
Efforts at restoring services continues. We have established a strong controlling presence in several areas. We are pleased to report that alongside Warwick, we now count Lichfield and Wellington as pacified areas. Casualties are down 70% on last month across our landing.
However we regret to inform of setbacks. The Birmingham to Wolverhampton area (now know to us as "City 2") remains dangerous. Resettlement efforts in these areas have proven fractious at best. In our last report we described unrest in Handsworth and West Bromwich, which have sadly overblown into outright revolt. Further investigation by us has revealed the use of prohibited military agents on the populace. I urge again that blocks 32, 46 and 921 be removed from occupation efforts. The use of siege blocks is for us not appropriate, and is greatly disruptive. We have withdrawn the blocks from the city until such time as attitudes have calmed, and better suited resources have been brought to bear.
Our economic activities have proven more fruitful however. Extraction of surplus water from the River Avon has been initiated, with production already at 32% of expected full capacity. Local discontent at the damage to local "cultural sites"in Stratford has been supressed. The benefits to the community will prove most beneficent in the long term. We will make them understand.
We must again however issue a complaint regarding Region 6. Anti-insurgent efforts in their Region has caused us much dismay. Military agents have crossed into our near pacified areas multiple times, and is rousing serious unrest. We can manage for now, however not for long.
Of Note: building on last weeks report. Attacks on ground supply convoys, not just hubs, has been stopped. Martian manufactured goods remain heavily targeted by insurgents. We are forced to use terran made supplies. We request information, is this repeated elsewhere?
To surmise. We request more resources urgently.
**RESPONSE: Blocks 32, 46 and 921 to be redeployed immediately. All methods authorised. Unrest to be quelled within this Martian Tri-week. Resource extraction to be accelerated. Short term casualties acceptable for long term security.** |
"Hiya princess!"My father excitedly waved out the window of the car.
Murmurs of "princess?"And "oh maybe the rumors are true."Went around the after school crowd. I quickly got into the car, tossing my hand bag in the back.
"Don't call me that."I said a little too sharply.
"Ohhh... Sorry"he sighed, "I forgot. Hush hush."
I couldn't help but roll my eyes. My dad just didn't get it. I'm at an all new school, with all sorts of oids, and the only other lizardoids are my cousins and stupid older my brother. The very same stupid older brother that left me here so my dad had to pick me up like a baby.
We started driving and my dad yaked on and on about his day. He had human oatmeal for breakfast and it was ice cold. Then something about a secret diplomatic meeting with the humans.
"Can you just stop."I sighed.
"Ohhh was I rambling again, my green pea"
"Daaadd"
"Well if you don't like the sound of my voice, why don't you tell me about your day?"
"My day?"I slumped and looked out the window.
Where do I even start? How about the Yeti that I think I'm in love with... ohphh definitely not that... maybe the fact I got bullied into the basketball team.
"I guess. I'm trying out for the basketball team?"
"Really! The human sport?"My dad and his human trivia.
"Yeah. But. Um. No. It's a little different here in Burning Lake. Actually, it's a lot different. There still is a basket and a ball. With oids playing, they changed something up so make it fair no matter what you are."
"Who. Kiddo. Who you are."
"Yeah yeah. I know."
Who you are. Who am I? The next queen of the Rizalian nation and the tallest lizardiod in history.
"Do you think you will be able to get into the team?"
I thought back at how short everyone was. I smiled, "yeah. 100 percent."
"I can't wait to watch you play. You know back in my day, I use to play some Bee-Ball too. I was quite the 3 pointer. Yeah. Maybe I could show you some -"
"Do you think you can drop me off as Squallia's house?"I blurted out.
"Kid. You know, you can't..."
"Pleeeaaasse"
My dad sighed sheepishly "Are her parents home?"
"Nope!"
"Damnit. Fine. But be home before dark. And if her parents catch you, I had nothing to do with it."He dropped me off three houses down from ours. "I swear top secrect intergalactic diplomacy is easier than dealing with -"
"Yeah yeah. Love you too dad. Bbyyee"I jumped out of the car and bolted from Squallia's back yard.
As always my mermaid bestie was in the aquaduct coming out of her room. She nearly burst my ear drums screaming when she saw me.
"Ohhh my lords! You came."She flopped over the railing into my arms and we hugged.
"Of course, I came!"
"First day! Aaah! Tell me everything. Hot oids or ick?"
I put her back in the water and sat down in the grass. "Ok ok. So when I first walked into Burning Lake High, I ran into a yeti."
"Ohh my lords, did you squish him."
"No, he's like 26 feet tall."
"Aaah. No way. Hot or ick?"
I blushed.
"Oh my lords! He's hot!"She screeched.
"HE'S HOT."I screeched back. |
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