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string | rejected_story
string | chosen_username
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string | chosen_timestamp
string | rejected_timestamp
string | chosen_upvotes
int64 | rejected_upvotes
int64 | chosen_comment_id
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[WP] Once an hour, every hour, the richest person on earth dies. This continues indefinitely...
|
The bell tolls.
The hardest part was the timing.
You had to make sure that you transferred the money on the hour every hour.
I spent days working on the automatic transfer, setting up the plans for the prewritten wills needed for an operation like this.
As for people? It’s kind of crazy what desperate people will do for their families’ future’s to be secured.
The idea is simple. Transfer the wealth of the richest people in the world to a willing subject on the hour every hour. After their death the money is returned and the rich pay off their family and move on.
There were protests, of course there were protests, far fewer than you’d expect though. Well, I guess it’s not really surprising after the first few figureheads dropped dead in front of their followers. A banking error had made them the richest in the world for an unlucky few seconds. “Unlucky”.
……
Thinking back to the first 6 months I feel like everything worked out as you’d expect. Chaos. It was kind of shocking the people who died, seeing the desperate shows of philanthropy to decrease your wealth enough to survive.
But everything has rules and rules can be studied. Having massive wealth gets you killed, but it’s binary, it simply adds assets it has no regard for how any why the “value” was acquired. Some leaders of countries died before realizing this, as did a few CEOs.
Having rules means loopholes and no one is better at using loopholes than the rich.
By pooling their wealth the top 20 or so richest people remaining suddenly had the ability to make anyone they chose the richest person in the world.
They suddenly had the power to kill anyone they wanted without any possible defense.
You can imagine how that went.
That system is automated now, thanks to me.
……
I type my name into the machine.
My phone rings, there has been a deposit to my account.
The bell tolls.
|
How it happens. Why it happens. Who is responsible for it. None of it makes any sense. At first religious fanatics believed it was God, or some diety. Until their leaders started to kick the bucket. The irony of religious leaders who took a vow of poverty to be killed off as the richest person in the world. It actually moved humans away from religion. Now, less than 50 years later, religion is more of a niche fad than anything. Kind of on the same page as Wicca. A novelty that a short number of people take too seriously. Even I honestly didn't think it would go that way. If anything I thought it would strengthen religious movements.
It seems whatever is in control of the fate of humans, we've been deceived by the cleverness of it. It only took a few weeks to figure out this wasn't some massive coincidence, and that the richest person on the planet was being killed off. It was, and still is to some degree, studied at length and none of the theories proved fruitful. It started focusing on humans, believing some human developed the ability to remotely kill someone from anywhere. But even if that were the case, how did they know who was the richest at any given hour? It was easy to figure out when Musk and Bezos dropped dead during a press interview. But as time went on, especially after a year or so, that information became much more obscure. It however did include anything related to personal wealth, such as stocks and reacclimated business profits. It was extremely precise to a terrifying degree.
Never seen so much philanthropy in the first year. Trillions of dollars flooded the market in an attempt to become the least wealthy. After much experimentation, it also took about 30 days to "register" your wealth yet it took nearly a year to unregister it. So if you handed someone a million dollars and they became the wealthiest on the planet, whatever it was acted like they didn't exist for 30 days (or rather their wealth was so low it didnt seem to think it was possible for them to be wealthy). I think this seemed like a way to avoid anyone trying to kill someone off by just transferring a bunch of money to them. Or to avoid getting rid of their wealth right before they kick the bucket which prevented the rich from somehow trying to "unrich" themselves in a short time.
Eventually humans settled into this new reality. For the majority of people it made no difference in their life. They would never be the wealthiest. In time, most of the worlds richest people were gone and a majority of their wealth was either passed on to charity or their family, those who inherited it gave up their wealth. For many years we developed a system to distribute wealth to the terminally ill. For more than a year candidates were chosen to essentially die, but were given practically unlimited wealth to enjoy their remaining days. Of course, they didn't have a choice. It was an enacted law that the terminally ill give up their life for their country. Until that too stopped working. Not only did this result in a nearly civil war, but those who were given this wealth simply gave it up. This led to the discovery by the government that any wealth associated with a business itself was not tied to a single person and could therefore be redistributed equally. This meant that so long as the business didn't allocate those funds to an individual, they were considered void. This allowed humans to subsidize production, Healthcare, and other quality of life aspects. Businesses now offered free homes, food, vehicles, and many other amenities as job compensation.
Eventually, after almost 50 years, we no longer work. Not in the same sense we used to. Businesses exist to provide for our needs, while we in turn seek fulfillment for ourselves. Many choose not to work anymore. Those who do are incentivized and given a great deal of leniency to improve themselves. Reputation is boundless in the eyes of society and those who choose that path are given a great deal of respect, while those who choose a comfortable easy life are not shunned for it, but are not held in a high regard. It's not perfect by any means, but it's a million times better than what we had before. Oh and money doesn't exist anymore. After we abolished currency about 8 years ago, not a single person has died as a result of wealth. Since nobody is considered wealthier than someone else. At least not in a monetary sense. Now wealth is more about fulfillment and happiness. Contributing to society is our currency and the respect and reputation one receives is our payment. The result of this is being able to "afford" luxurious lifestyles. The best food, homes, vacations, etc.
And it's all thanks to some unknown force we may never know.
Hey Siri...
|
TheSciFanGuy
|
MasterPip
|
2024-07-13 14:45:05
|
2024-07-13 12:09:35
| 797 | 28 |
lczveij
|
lcza42r
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1e276ci
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1e276ci
|
[WP] Once an hour, every hour, the richest person on earth dies. This continues indefinitely...
|
The bell tolls.
The hardest part was the timing.
You had to make sure that you transferred the money on the hour every hour.
I spent days working on the automatic transfer, setting up the plans for the prewritten wills needed for an operation like this.
As for people? It’s kind of crazy what desperate people will do for their families’ future’s to be secured.
The idea is simple. Transfer the wealth of the richest people in the world to a willing subject on the hour every hour. After their death the money is returned and the rich pay off their family and move on.
There were protests, of course there were protests, far fewer than you’d expect though. Well, I guess it’s not really surprising after the first few figureheads dropped dead in front of their followers. A banking error had made them the richest in the world for an unlucky few seconds. “Unlucky”.
……
Thinking back to the first 6 months I feel like everything worked out as you’d expect. Chaos. It was kind of shocking the people who died, seeing the desperate shows of philanthropy to decrease your wealth enough to survive.
But everything has rules and rules can be studied. Having massive wealth gets you killed, but it’s binary, it simply adds assets it has no regard for how any why the “value” was acquired. Some leaders of countries died before realizing this, as did a few CEOs.
Having rules means loopholes and no one is better at using loopholes than the rich.
By pooling their wealth the top 20 or so richest people remaining suddenly had the ability to make anyone they chose the richest person in the world.
They suddenly had the power to kill anyone they wanted without any possible defense.
You can imagine how that went.
That system is automated now, thanks to me.
……
I type my name into the machine.
My phone rings, there has been a deposit to my account.
The bell tolls.
|
Nobody knew why or how it started, just that when the clock struck midnight on that faithful day, the richest man in the world died. Just as media companies were rushing to get the news out, the next richest person fell dead in the next hour.
The internet was abuzz with conspiracy theories faster than the fifth person to drop dead. All over the world, governments and conglomerates held emergency meetings to pool together what they knew of the phenomenon. The best doctors couldn't determine the cause of death, they simply stopped breathing without any other signs.
The masses watched the news with mixed feelings. Some thought this would be a great thing. Others were concerned of the economic repercussions. A handful wondered how long this would continue.
The elite rich were transferring their wealth to others. Not out of charity, but self-preservation. Some tried to create clandestine bank accounts under different identities. The usual tax evasion tactics now evolved to avoid death by wealth.
Whatever it was that swept across earth, it didn't care for financial wrangling and accounting manipulations. The death toll didn't stop. Every hour without fail, it would claim a life.
Companies would eventually collapse without all of their top brass alive. The economy in shambles. Even as wealth truly began to trickle down towards the downtrodden masses, there was always someone richer to be culled by the mysterious death. It didn't care that there were plenty of wealth lying around with no owner.
A handful of people proposed sharing wealth such that there was a tie. Assets and cash had to be distributed in such a way that two people could have the exact amount of wealth. That's assuming this "Death of Wealth" phenomenon calculated wealth the same way humans did.
The first few people to make that equal distribution of wealth died before the balancing could be complete. It was the next seven deaths did it occur that there were...other factors it probably looked at besides cash and assets. Did it count family, happiness, health and other kinds of non-monetary wealth?
A year after 8760 people died, still nobody figured out how the richest person was derived if there was a tie. It wasn't age, or country of birth, or gender. Perhaps it was going to be a mystery to the very end. Monopolies are dead; only smaller companies remained, for anyone who accumulated too much wealth would die.
These firms shrunk as owners either died or gave away their fortunes to stay alive. Consumerism is falling. No longer did people pursue great wealth, now everyone just wanted to live for as long as they could. As the overall circulation of money grew smaller, so did people began resorting to burning literal cash. Banks went bankrupt during a mass panic withdrawal of money to burn. Electronic records of a person's riches gradually vanished as humans chose to simply keep cash. Makes it easier to count and track how much wealth you had, and to shred it if one feared being too rich to live. You could carry cash and walk in a dark alleyway and nobody would bat an eyelid.
Robberies aren't a thing anymore. Nobody would be taking money from another in a world trying to get rid of money. The children could come out to play. Hang out late at night. Revelers and party-goers could get drunk and not be robbed blind. Who would hurt them? Nobody would decrease another's fortune and save their position in what is now known as the "List of Wealthy Persons to Die".
One smart guy suggested to fall back to a barter system rather than utilize currency. Perhaps that way, without a measurement of wealth, the deaths would stop. Considering the assets people held - properties, cars and other valuables, it was not to be. There was always someone who had one more property. One more car. An extra bag of rice, or one more cow than the next farmer.
Death comes slowly for humanity as a whole. There are billions of humans on the planet, and just 8760 people dying from this mysterious thing. But death comes for all eventually. It is patient. It has all the time in the world. Even as nature began to recover from humanity's dwindling fortunes, the birth rate was one of those things that never bounced back.
They say there are two things inevitable in life - taxes and death.
In a world that has eliminated currency, yet still struggled to completely eliminate wealth and worldly possessions, death's clock is always ticking every hour. One hour, one death. No exceptions. No preventions. Only death.
[Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, click here for more prompt responses and short stories written by me.](https://www.reddit.com/r/TregonialWrites/)
|
TheSciFanGuy
|
Tregonial
|
2024-07-13 14:45:05
|
2024-07-13 13:15:11
| 797 | 14 |
lczveij
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lczi8rp
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1e276ci
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1e276ci
|
[WP] Your father always told you to measure twice, cut once. You may not have followed in his footsteps, but you never forgot what’s important. It’s the day of your first battle. You have your sword and your tape measure.
|
There is no shadow government.
The people in charge want you to think there is. They want you to believe there's a method and an order to what goes on in the government. A grand scheme, a unified vision.
It's all a lie.
There is no shadowy organization pulling the strings, bringing us closer to a world that they control.
We wish there was. How great it would be if there was some semblance of coherency hidden behind the doors of the capital building.
But there isn't. Our fates are in the hands of bickering children with no unified motive or even ideals. Each acting in their own self interest. Totally separate from the others.
Like a mad D&D game with no DM. And we're heading to a TPK.
|
**North Korea hosts real-life hunger games:**
Although it seems far-fetched and outlandish at first, we have strong reason to believe that that North Korea has been hosting annual hunger games. No one can be sure for how long this has been happening but our researchers have reason to believe 1984 is the year this all began.
**Below are some of the similarities between Panem and North Korea:**
\- Both countries are governed under a dictatorship
\- The residents are unaware/ have very little knowledge on the outside world
\- There is a central city where only the ones most faithful to the country and dictator can reside
\- Majority of the citizens are forced to work gruelling hours and are severely physically punished if they so much as disagree with the dictator's opinions
\- Extreme levels of propaganda
**Why did we come to the conclusion of this?**
From past events, it is clear that the rich and powerful of North Korea don't value their civilians in the slightest. They are willing to go to any lengths to support their own wants and needs, even if this means inducing or ignoring nationwide suffering.
**Examples:**
\- Labour camps
In these camps, people are forced to work countless hours on a diet of salt, cabbage and corn. They are left without underwear, socks, soap, toilet paper and any basic sanitary needs.
\- Flooding
In the late 90s, a major flood destroyed millions of crops, leaving countless families without anything to harvest ; without any income, an estimated 600,000 to 3 million residents starved to death. Meanwhile, the dictator was supply of Hennessy cognac because it tickled his fancy.
**What about the actual hunger games aspect?**
Since the two are so incredibly similar in many regards, we decided to investigate deeper into whether they could also both be hosting this horrific event.
The hunger games were created to "to provide entertainment for the Capitol and to remind the districts of the Capitol's power and its lack of remorse or forgiveness for the failed rebellion of the current competitors' ancestors."
The same message can be translated into lots of small-but-failed rebellions (we probably wouldn't even know about majority due to the secretive nature of the country.) We already know that the wealthy don't care about the citizens in the slightest, so why not to create a spectacle for the upper class (around 1% of the almost 26 million inhabitants.) This would also go hand in hand with spreading the message that rebellions aren't permitted and anyone who dares to attempt anything will meet a brutal end.
In addition to this, North Korea 'happens' to have the worlds biggest football pitch located on one of it's islands. Who is to say that the games aren't being held right there in '*Rungrado May Day Stadium?'*
**How could something like this be hidden?**
Firstly, since North Korea already has minimal connections to the outside world hiding it wouldn't be too much effort. On top of this, it's not like the other world leaders are going to notice a few missing people in North Korea every year, the only ones who may notice are it's own government and if they are the creators of this version of the games, they obviously won't make a scene or report it to anyone.
​
**Overall**
There are people who both support and denounce this theory but the team here at ***Writing prompts research*** highly suspects that either this or something very similar is occurring at the moment.
|
Gregamonster
|
livelaughdietcoke
|
2023-10-12 13:13:24
|
2023-10-12 09:29:36
| 66 | 32 |
k4k2yk4
|
k4jg1y2
|
176092m
|
176092m
|
[WP] The Chosen One in the secret magical world drops out of magic academy after a few semesters to go back to "normal" school and regular society. Every magical professor and his old friends occasionally pop up in his life to ask him to reconsider, to which he vehemently denounces magical society.
|
"Hello Kane!" The whimsical and sweet voice of my old wand craft professor greets my ears. Unfortunately for me, I'm taking a leak in the men's room. Unfortunately for her, I also fart while peeing.
"What the fuck, Ms. Willow?! I'm kinda busy, couldn't you have waited?!"
"Eugh... Was that you?"
I roll my eyes. Of all the times... I'll have to get her the magical equivalent of a bell around her neck.
"Kane you simply must come back to us, our halls are dreadfully quiet without you." Willow pleads for what feels like the hundredth time.
I'm not going back. Not now, not next semester, not ever. That school is a cancer. "Did you find another way to cast your spells?"
"Kane we talked about this, our magic can only exist under very specific circumstanc-" "Then no. I can't be a part of it, a spinning cog in your fucked up machine. I can't pretend I don't know what happens there."
Willow's face falls through my explanation. "I know it's hard to come to grips with but dear, this is the way of it. Don't you miss the rush from hurling lightning into trees? The world at your feet with a wand in your hand? You can be the best of us, and instead you squander your time here with..." She scrunches her nose in disgust. "Livestock..."
There it is. The entire reason I can't go back. Hers is an opinion shared by all the faculty at her school. I clench my jaw in anger. "They are more than just batteries, Willow. They're people, with families and jobs. They're little worlds unto themselves, and you all just pretend we aren't destroying them."
Willow shrugs. "You made a good destroyer. None of us have ever seen anyone with your talent. You use magic like you were born to it."
I try to look resolute. "My answer hasn't changed. I'm staying."
It's Willow's turn to roll her eyes. "You're so dramatic. It's not like we're killing them."
She's right. The people used by the academy don't die, not really. Due to the nature of magic, the school needs to create energy for magicians to use. My school has chosen mental torture for the fuel. Horrible, grotesque, chilling visions in uneding waves, bashing the consciousness of the subject to harvest their terror. We call the discharged "gawkers". After a month of seeing their worst fears, no one let out can do anything more than drool. Most of them starve to death.
"No, Willow. But you might as well. Death would be kinder."
Willow sighs. "Fine. Have fun pretending your tantrum will fix anything."
She leaves the men's room through a portal she drew on the wall. I wonder how many hours someone was tortured just so she could avoid the hassle of taking the bus.
|
"I am here once again, young friend, to plead with you to rejoin our halls," began the professor, pausing to take a dramatic sip from his mug. "It has been several years now, long enough for you to see the, ah, shortcomings of your current path and the mounting dangers of the mundane world.. Your true talents, all endowed upon you by fate itself to let you unite arcanists everywhere under a single banner, are not merely wasted in this place, but irresponsibly squandered!"
The dark-haired youth sitting next to the elder frowned into his own mug of ale before mirroring the sip. Around and around they had been, the old man always believing that a mere flight of youthful fancy kept the Chosen One from fulfilling a grand destiny that could bring together the disparate magical societies to bring about the New World. The lad suppressed a shudder as the cold memory of his dreams rose up again as if to warn him away.
"Professor Zauberestein, neither you nor any that you have sent made any headway in changing my mind; I am nearly old enough that I think you will not be able to continue these attempts due to the Academy's ancient laws." The teen's composure changed, a small display of sad resignation showing through his face and gestures as he continued: "I truly loved my time studying with you, the other professors, and my friends; but, since no one can tell me how to prevent my visions of mass death and destruction from coming about, I \*must\* pursue the path that I believe might prevent that future from coming to pass."
A sigh escaped the nearly white beard before the mug raised to meet it again. The boy was very astute, which heightened the frustration that must be felt by all who opposed his foolishness in throwing away his gifts. Calmy, he raised his hand raised to wipe froth from the mustache whiskers and turned his dark brown eyes back to the youthful face that he had once wished could have been that of his own progeny. "The Scroll of Prophecies," the old man began again, "is dangerous business, as you well know. Misinterpretation has caused as many disasters as have been diverted over the years, which is why the Council supplements every interpretation with systematic augury and double-blind confirmations." His tone lowered to a confidential stage-whisper, even though no one else in the tavern could understand them past the temporary garbling spell on their stools: "there will be a great war in Europe within the decade, which cannot be prevented by any means, though we have perhaps delayed it a little. Your visions of this war are a terrible burden, but do not let them continue to confuse you as they have! It is the next great war on its heels, closer together than almost of any of the true great wars of history have ever coincided, that the prophecy indicates you will have the power to prevent or else use to usher the entire world into an era of prosperity unlike any other. Arcanists directing the mundane industry might even let us reach \*distant worlds!\* How can you turn away from the light just because you must cross the darkness to reach it?"
The boy-man's face was once again composed as he nodded, albeit clearly not in agreement; it was a signal of resolve, of commitment to his chosen path. "The Council is too keen to claim leadership of all arcanists, to be the crown atop my head and to bask in the glory of living to see great prophecy come to be. You cannot do it within a hundred years without me, and I will not do it because the visions tell me that my role would be that of Destroyer, not Uniter." He stopped, then reached down for his bag and opened the flap to withdraw a small painting, which he handed to the older man. "I will continue on to study at a great mundane academy to be an artist; artists don't lead armies or destroy peoples, they capture beauty and symbolism so that it may be remembered and passed on."
The professor looked at the watercolor on fine paper: it showed the great Academy Hall, shadowed by clouds in its nook in the Alps, while sunbeams poured on the lands of the Mundane in the foreground. There was some talent there, to be sure, but nothing exceptional enough to balance the loss of arcane prodigy. He set it gently on the bar before casting an augury spell, which confirmed that the paths to successfully changing the lad's mind had closed on him. A grim aura settled around him as he picked up the paper again and stood, pocketing it in exchange for a small wand. The Council had been perfectly clear: if the Chosen One would not cooperate with this final chance to return, then they would have to wait until the 21st century to find the next one.
The younger man's pale eyes went to the wand, to the wrinkled face, and back to the wand. With a grimace, he returned to his mug and chugged half of it, suddenly coughing and choking as he accidentally inhaled some. With a tremble, he cleaned his face and turned on his stool to face the wand. "Good-bye, Professor Zauberestein."
The old man set some coins on the counter before raising the wand and composing his spell. Memory work was delicate, which was why he had been selected for this task, and some risk of personality changes or even loss of vocabulary or skills was probable. \*Forget what I tell you,\* he intoned in a secret tongue, before walking out the door. Stepping to the street, he paused at the window and watched the lad begin a sketch. "Good-bye, young Adolf," he whispered.
|
Adept-Huckleberry686
|
Tells-Tragedies
|
2025-01-08 23:06:18
|
2025-01-08 20:27:28
| 49 | 22 |
m64st36
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m63wof8
|
1hwmq37
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1hwmq37
|
[WP] Your brother left his newborn child with you so that he could go "find himself," whatever that meant. Lacking the resources and unable to care for a child, you had no choice but to give them up for adoption. Years later, your brother finally returns and asks where his child is.
|
"What do you mean, you gave him up for adoption?"
There was genuine confusion and sadness in his voice, but I knew the anger would come.
*"Just as I said."*
I managed to dodge the first blow but the second took me down, he grabbed my hair as I tried to lift myself up.
"I TOOK CARE OF YOU WHEN MUM AND DAD DIED! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO REPAY ME!"
I managed to rip myself free and kicked him in the gut, the blow seemed to shock him, I'd never fought back. We grappled for a minute before I got him in a lock on the floor, pressing his face down.
*"Mum and dad died when I was 17, you took me in for one year and beat the shit out of me whenever you got drunk. Then you knock up some poor girl, don't care when she dies in childbirth and then leave that poor lad with an 18 year old who barely made minimum wage and had no support. I could barely take care of myself."*
"Bitch."
*"Okay, you think that. Now leave."*
I stand up and indicate the door.
"Where's my son?"
I state at him incredulous.
*"Tom, it's been 15 fucking years, I have no idea where he is!"*
He took another swing but he's getting tired so it was easy to dodge.
*"We looked everywhere for you, the police even thought you might be dead! Social services agreed that I wasn't fit to take care of him and and I decided that I didn't want to keep in touch."*
"You gave away my child!"
I pushed him out the door, there was no fight left in him.
*"You gave him away first."*
|
Bright, blurry red tail lights marched at an agonizing pace ahead of me. Droplets streaked and gathered along the untouched portions of the windshield, wipers flipping across in front of me. Work had beaten me so thoroughly I couldn’t find the strength to turn on the radio. Soft drops pattered on the metal roof keeping me company through the dark drive.
My phone lit up and I squinted my eyes at it. A text from an unsaved number read, ‘Hey Autumn. It’s John, I’m back in the states. Call me at this number when you get a chance.’
I flicked my eyes back to the road, my arms began to tingle. My stomach sinking in on itself. He’s didn’t say he was coming back, or when. If ever. Can I pretend I never saw the text? That I got a new number?
The phone dinged again, ‘I’ll stop by tonight if you’re still at the same place.’
Oh fuck, oh shit. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.
I took a deep breath, and looked ahead. I gripped the steering wheel so tight that my knuckles were white. How could I even begin to explain? I don’t have enough money to get a hotel and pretend I don’t live there anymore.
No. He made this mess. He asked me to do the impossible, knew I could barely support myself at this mediocre job let alone a child. He selfishly left and just expected things would turn out okay in the end. That’s not reality and he’s got an awakening coming.
+
I sent a text back saying, ‘Yes. I’m still here. Come by.’ And waited. Sat on the brown leather couch that was missing material in some places. Its short legs faded with age. I stared at the door, a floor lamp in the far corner kept me company with its warm light. Silence pressed in around me as I ran through everything I could. How to say it, where should I begin. Tell him right when he walks in or pretend to be interested and wait until he asks. If he should care to ask, since the kid meant so little to him that he would just leave. This prick thinks he ca-
A rapping knock at the door stiffened my muscles. Pure will made my legs raise me off the couch. I stepped forward and my feet drug through invisible muck. I stared at the door knob, finger tips brushing it. Another knock, louder and more deliberate than the last.
I clamped my hand on the knob and turned. The night poured in. Cold and damp, the rain smacked the sidewalk in heavy fast drops. I looked at John. He was skinnier than before, sandy blond hair draped over his shoulders. A full beard bloomed from his face and trailed down to his chest. He held out two tanned arms and said, “Autumn, it’s been so long.” I stood frozen in place, looking him up and down. He stared back and his arms slowly fell. The smile died from his face. I stepped back and opened the door, “Come in.”
He looked around the plain apartment and set his bag on the floor. “How have you been?” He asked. I shut the door with a forceful snick. “Surviving.” I replied. He turned to face me, the question was written all over his face before he asked it.
“Where is she?” He breathed. “The daughter you left behind without a second thought?” I sneered, taking steps towards him. “Her parents should know.” I locked my hateful stare on his eyes, “And no, I don’t mean you. What the fuck did you expect me to do with a goddamn kid John.” I threw my hands into the air, “You KNEW I couldn’t hack it. Can barely survive myself. You thought that someone who lives off ramen for half a month could take care of a kid?” I scoffed a laugh, “You’re a piece of work John.”
He looked down at the floor, fists tight as his side. “Well what’s it gonna be? Gonna tell me I’M shitty? I adopted her out to a loving, well off family.” I watched his pathetic shoulders tremble. “What? Got nothing to say?” I stepped closer but he remained as he was. I craned my neck to look at his face but he turned away. I shoved my hands into his chest and knocked him onto the couch.
“Fucking say something!” I screamed, he looked up at me. Tears streamed in steady rivers down his cheeks. His mouth trembled, trying to form words but awful sobs came out instead. I stepped back, step after step. He crumbled into the couch, wailing cries deafening me. And as I looked upon the broken man in my home, I felt it. The dark gaping maw in my chest opened and threatened to take everything with it.
I felt so fucking guilty.
|
TeatimeWithCake
|
Yooo-Hoo
|
2024-07-12 07:42:56
|
2024-07-12 07:40:47
| 289 | 59 |
lcsx7ks
|
lcsx0m6
|
1e14tcb
|
1e14tcb
|
[WP] You are isekai'd into a world of magic, you are the hero, at the request of the kingdom, you defeat the demon king, destroy the abyss armies, and even slay the dragon lord, all under promise that you will get to return home. Ultimately, they tell you, they don't know how to send you back.
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I stood with my back straight, hands resting serenely on the pommel of sheathed blade as it rested point down in front of me. Listening to the Emperor rattle on, heaping praise and and honours on my name. Finally he stopped and stepped forward.
"And lastly we grant you the title of Duke and lands to the north as your domain and the hand of my beloved daughter."
He said this whilst smiling benevolently, so sure that this would please me, that this was what I wanted.
I looked down and heaved a great sigh before dropping my sword, this caused a gasp as it was the sword of legend and forged by the gods. To drop it was sacrilege. Next I started to remove my armour, piece by piece, dropping it on the floor with no regard. The royal secretary, a squirrelly little man, ran up to me and pleaded with me to explain, to step aside and calm down, to stop whatever this was.
The Saintess was standing next to Emperor, hands held over her mouth in horror. The Emperor himself was stuttering and his daughter, "my fiance" looked as foolish as ever.
After I pulled off the last greave, I tossed it towards the dais and stated at him with utter disdain.
"You never had any way to send me home, did you?"
The hall went silent as a morgue, barring the princess constantly asking what was going on. I turned and walked towards the massive and heavy doors of the hall and easily opened them alone. Turning to look back at the people within as I pushed the doors closed, I smiled.
"Luckily, he already gave me the spell."
I sealed the room as the screams started, how none of them had seen the shadows in such a brightly lit room just attested to their stupidity.
I can't wait to eat my mums cookies.
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The demon king was at the bottom of my foot looking at me with fear and terror in his eyes, good the same he made people fear for their own lives. The same fear that went through my companions faces as they fell to him.
"You'll end up just like me," The demon king spat blood out on the ground, "It's a constant cycle, violent cycle." His fading emerald eyes meet a shiny quartz. His hand extended towards a broken pocket watch that was on the ground but before he could reach it. I stepped on his hand with my reinforced boot crushing it instantly. His screams were agonizing as I shoved the pocket watch in my pocket.
"Just go to hell where you belong." I scoffed as I brought up my spear and pierced his heart sick of hearing the excuses, pulling my weapon out with a gush of blood. Not bothering to pick it up all the way I decided to drag it across the floor causing sparks as I left the demon king's castle.
The wind kicked up beneath my feet as I slowly started to float before it fully circulated my body as I blasted toward the kingdom. Due to the wind being one of my magical proficiencies, it didn't take any longer than fifteen minutes before I landed at the castle and opened the door without any warning.
"I killed him for you." My voice boomed as I pulled out the broken pocket watch that was infamously told about throughout the lands. Deciding there is no point but to cut to the chase, "Send me home already, I miss my friends and family."
The guards all chuckled nervously and my eye traced over to one of the knights quickly leaving the room, doesn't concern him. A nasally voice that sounded like a pig spoke for the first time rang in my ears, "Well about that we don't know how exactly but if you give us time. We are positive that we can figure something out."
"How many?" That was my first thought, a constant cycle. "How have heroes have you summoned?" I took a step forward the ground cracking beneath my foot, some of the guards decided to do the right thing and leave. Some remained stupid and stayed by the king's side, "How many of those heroes failed?" One of the guards attempted to charge me but I simply formed an air bullet and pierced his chest. "How many of them succeeded just to learn they can't get sent back?"
The king was silent for a moment before he hesitantly spoke, "1375...that's how many demon kings we had."
Rage. The wind kicked up around me as I felt my anger grow, those companions of mine who fought a war they shouldn't have to fight because of incompetence. People die every day because of these rulers who don't think before they act. It's their fault why they constantly have problems.
"Daddy! I heard ruck-" It was the princess she is beautiful. "I heard a lot of noise coming in here and wanted to make sure you were okay." She gasped as she saw the corpse that was on the ground before looking back up at me. "Mr. Hero did you do this?"
I smiled, a cruel smile on my face. Before I formed a massive air bullet the tip of my pointer finger and blasted her head off, the blood and brain matter splattered over the throne room and the king. The *princess was beautiful*.
The king cried in outrage, "Guards! Get him!"
My other magical proficiency was water. Water and wind are a perfect combo, and I formed a wind ball with water inside it sending it forward. Before the guards could even react I split the ball and sent the remaining guards flying to the wall crushing them instantly. Casually strolling forward I stood in front of the king, his breath was quickening. There was heat racing behind me I didn't bother turning my head around as I raised an air bubble encasing the both of us.
"Do you want to know a quote that I'm sure crossed every single hero or heroine and demon king or queen mind?" I asked as I placed the tip of my spear against her throat.
"What?" Was all the king could say resigned to his fate.
"You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become a villain, fitting quote right?" The spear went across the king's throat as his hand instinctually reached out and covered it. My hand grabbed the pocket watch that the old hero had and I looked at it, a small frown appearing on my face.
It was an older man with brown hair and radiant green eyes holding another man with black hair with beautiful brown eyes. How many lives have been ruined by this land? No matter, I will simply find a solution to leave. Heroes or heroines, all of them will fall or will join me. They do not have a choice like I wasn't giving one.
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TeatimeWithCake
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WIHachillies
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2023-10-26 10:30:56
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2023-10-26 05:12:57
| 42 | 25 |
k6ipup4
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k6i0um8
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17gcuc8
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17gcuc8
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[WP] You are a demon and you have been summoned by a mortal. He announced that he has brought you a sacrifice. Except it's the same teenaged girl that people have tried to sacrifice to you 5 times already
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I burst into the mortal realm in a swirl of nightmare wings, darkness billowing mightily around my glistening form. My monstrous fangs bared, hungry...for souls.
"Mortal!" I bellowed with gusto (this part just never got old). "I demand...A SACRIFICE!"
"Yes, oh evil one!" cackled a handwringing cringer,u slowly balding in a sweaty black tee. He jerked a young woman roughly out of the candle shadows.
"Hiiiiiii!" she beamed with a cutesy little wave.
I slapped one clawed hand over my horned brow in frank despair. "Not *that* one!"
"N-not..." The cringing man wiped sweat from his brow with a greasy rag.
*"That* one. Not. Her!"
"B-but...Your...Your Evilness! Sh-she--"
"Asked particularly, yes. She keeps *on* doing that," I snarled, while the perky young woman giggled.
"Y-yes, Your Evilness! Sh-she was most--
"Eager, I'm sure," I said sourly, snapping my tail.
"Y-yes, ex-exactly! Eager! The very word, Your Evilness!"
"No," I said, not to the cringing man but to the young woman, who was now unmistakeably giving me what I believe mortals refer to as 'bedroom eyes.'
"Oh come on," she pouted.
The cringing man goggled.
I snorted noxious black smoke.
The young woman flipped her hair at me and crinkled her nose adorably.
"Stop that!" the cringing man snapped at her nervously. "You've displeased His Evilness!"
"He'll get over it," she smiled.
The cringing man's jaw fell.
"Won't you?" she went on, addressing me with excruciating sweetness. "My little Mammy-wammy will be just fine!"
I cringed visibly. "My name," I growled, mortified, "is MAMMON."
"What? Mammy-wammy don't like hims wittle nicky-namey?"
"NO! Leave me *alone!* Begone, wench!"
Her pert nose crinkled again, sulky this time. "But *Mammy--"*
"AUGH!" I roared, spouting agonized flame. "Get her away from me!"
I rounded on the cringing man, who shat himself immediately. "Remove this woman from my presence at once!"
Shuffling miserably in his malodorous breeches, the cringing man began hustling the disappoointed temptress toward the nearest exit.
"Maaammy-*Wammy--"* she wailed over her shoulder as the cringing man stuffed her hastily through the door.
I shuddered deeply.
From behind me came a gale of hilarity. I turned sharply. Belial and Astaroth had apparently come along for the ride.
"Mammy-Wammy," hooted Belial.
"Hims wittle nicky-namey," Astaroth sputtered.
I was never going to hear the end of this.
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(Now, they are really testing my patience...) Demon thought at first, this was filled with anger but, in teenager's eyes it saw the same anger but, mixed into obvious horror. Demon thought for a moment and wicked smile carved on this face soon. Demon finally killed the young lady and dragged her into shadows seemingly of the abyss.
He discussed with the mortals for a while then left giving false promise of desire to be fulfilled. Young lady's body has disappeared from the eyes of the ones who wanted to sacrifice her. Then demon left too but, once the mortals had left the room. It returned and half kneels upon the young woman's body, places the hand on her lower back and stroke upwards up the spine.
Lady gasped for air and woke up as the demon's hand left her body then both stood up. Lady looked around and then saw the demon, taken away by fear like a leaf in a wind. Demon motioned her to calm down, she didn't, so the demon thought.
"Revenge, is a dish..." demon said and waited for her to realize the intent and plan of this.
"Best served cold?" Teenage girl asked continuing the sentence "You just knocked me out and faked my death?" she added another question into the line. Bothered the demon it did not.
"Yes, this is fifth time and I have far more important business in the world under yours, so to say. Now, I have to make an exception as I believe they won't stop trying, a hint I should have noticed earlier but, distracted I was" Demon explains. Young lady no longer submerged into a sea of fear, changed into skepticism in her eyes.
"What about me then?" Young woman asked expecting the worst.
"You should have asked, what about us? Well, the answer is quite... Wicked, young lady" demon said and landed on the floor.
"You are planning on possessing me are you?" young lady asked realizing the intent and quite undoubtedly the first option.
"No. I do not plan to dominate your life. We will together, create your tools for vengeance, they will be the way you will stay connected to me and once we are done, they will cease to be" Demon said. At first horror makes a return but, turned away at the door in lady's mind when she heard the demon's intent. Still skeptical though.
"What about after it?" Young lady asked.
"After it, we will part ways. I intend on returning to my home when my plan has been carried out" Demon declared.
"How do I know this is not an attempt to delude me?" Young woman asked, slowly enticed by the prospect of revenge.
Demon saw this and is internally amused "I would have taken over you on the first time if my plans was something else" Demon said the discussion becoming tiresome. Young lady thought a moment and answered with a nod.
"How do we proceed?" she asks.
"Embrace the thought of revenge, the thrill of getting even. Ignite your anger and bring out your passion" Demon says and aligns this hand to be touched by the young maiden. Young lady hesitates when she raised her hand on the level but, not close of it.
She thought for a moment and looked for what the demon desires from her. Demon senses the lady's desire for revenge first, then next came passion, it would be followed by anger. This excites the demon. Finally, it will begin. Lady places her hand on Demon's own when the anger surfaced to her mind.
Palms still set against each other, lady felt a bridge in her mind, on the other side. She felt the Demon. "Do not be distracted, focus" Demon said, aloud. Lady's mind jinked where the Demon desired it not but, it quickly returned to where it should be. On the task at hand.
Lady's passion now proclaimed itself to the demon as she herself closed her eyes. They departed their palms from one and another, lady moving on instinct than command and Demon knew what is happening. Air between the two started to warp but, not maneuver it did. For a while, there was almost complete stillness.
Air started to compact between the two and take shape. Something from both, the demon and lady started to will the shape a form. It is... The lady herself standing opposite of the real one. The real, opened her eyes and looked at the other self. At first, she had questions but, as they approached each other.
Teenage girl understood it and the other her, understood her. It is her desire for strife, the disguise most cunning, declaration of her passion and the form of her anger to get revenge. The other her disappeared and the real young woman blinked few times. She started to change and shook violently a bit. She took a deep breath and took her other form, she just saw.
The Demon chuckled, what most wonderful piece of vengeance and so, the plan is set on motion. The lady finally calms down and looks around then at herself. "Woe" she said at awe as the Demon approached her. She quickly hugs the Demon for a moment which did catch the Demon off guard but, laughed it off.
"First, you must learn" Demon said and the girl nodded firmly and smiled warmly.
"You are the wicked godfather, one could ask for" she said and Demon interrupted by statement then started to laugh in more honest manner.
"Ah, you have no idea" Demon said when it gathered itself back together from the laughter and moved to begin the lessons.
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None
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Aftel43
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2023-03-11 04:09:46
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2023-03-10 18:44:22
| 26 | 11 |
jbrm6dp
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jbph7lw
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11nu4j6
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11nu4j6
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[WP] A new species joined the ships crew. Humans, a bonded pair apparently. One day we were boarded by pirates and the two became separated, I have never seen destruction performed like what this human did, to get back to his mate.
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Darren turned to me. "Give me that weapon, Zevorth," he demanded
I looked at him, stunned. He'd never spoken to me in such a tone.
"No, Darren. I cannot. Protocol demands we wait until they disembark. Seal the ship, then contact command and await rescue. You also do not have clearance nor training for this weapon. "
"Damn it, Zevorth, if you don't give me that weapon now, I will have to go empty-handed, and that's going to take too long! I need to get to her. I know she can deal with them, but I don't want her to think I've abandoned her!"
"Urm... what?" I ask, absolutely puzzled as to what Darren was saying
"For gods sake," Darren yelled as he lunged and grabbed the ritack from my chest fix. I tried to grab it from him, but he turned, lept, and ran toward the sub tunnel all in 1 smooth motion.
"Darren! Halt! Stop him!" I yelled to the other crew who had frozen in confusion over the whole situation. Everyone rushed into the sub tunnel behind me as we ran after the human male.
Humans were fast. Faster than all of us. The muscles in their lower limb structure lent them an explosive speed compared to most other species in the galaxy. There was no way we would catch him. I just had to hope we didn't end up stuck near the outer shell when the Pirates unclamped the ship seal, and we all ended up in the vaccum of space. I had to try.
"Darren!" I yelled."Please come back! We'll pay the ransom they'll ask for Nancy. We'll get her back!" I lied, hoping he'd believe me.
Bizzarely, he laughed. "That's not the way this works." He yelled over his shoulder as he kept running he skidded to a stop at the junction, having something ahead we couldn't see. He lifted the ritack and started firing. What happened next was approximately the 12 most mouth opening, brain searing, and kardesh scrambling flets I've ever experienced. He ended the lives of 14 Azrith Pirates. 14! In 12 flets! When the ritack didn't fire, he used it as a club. When he hit one of them too hard and lost it, he resorted to using his limbs and his head! All the crew and I could do was stand, frozen in the sub tunnel entrance, and stare in shock. It was over as quickly as it started.
"NANCY!" Darren yelled, dashing forward through to the next junction. We all jolted as if suddenly electrocuted to life and tried to rush through whilst also avoiding the bodies on the ground.
"Dal! Hand me the flit wrench there, please. I've almost got it, " Nancy said whilst pointing at the emergency tool kit on the wall. She had two wires in her hand that looked like they came from the Pirate ship door. There were 10 Pirates on the floor around the room. All dead.
Darren grabbed the tool she asked for and ran to her, handing it over and pressing his mouth to hers. She seemed to allow it for a second before she pushed him off.
"Not now, lover. I got a ship to seal and a ship to steal, " she said as she fed wires into a control panel and started hitting buttons with the hand holding the flit wrench.
"Um, Nancy? What are you doing?" I asked, unsure what had happened before we got here or even what was happening now
"I'm slaving their ship to ours, Zev. I'm also going to make sure I can stabilise it so we don't decompress"
"Um? Right, but protocol demands we wait until they disembark. Seal the ship. Call command. Await, rescue."
Nancy snorted and looked at Darren. "Can you deal with this, lover. I'm a bit busy. " "Sure thing, hon, " Darren said, turning to us.
"Zevorth, does it look like they'll be disembarking any time soon?"
"Ah. Well. No."
"Right. So that's one less thing to worry about. Do we need rescuing?"
"Um?" I wasn't actually sure if the Pirates had done any damage
"We don't, Zev. Ship's fine, excpet for this hole, that is about to become an extra part of the ship. All systems are operational, and once I've slaved their ship to us, the seal will link. I'll weld it all before we move to give it an added bit of stability, " Nancy said whilst never stopping what she was doing nor taking her eyes off the unit she was fiddling with.
"Right," said Darren, "so we probably don't need to do anything other than make a note of it, do we?"
I glanced at the crew. They all seemed as bewildered as I felt, not knowing where to look, at Nancy, at Darren, at the other ship we could see into, at the dead pirates scattered around or at me. "Well, um, I'm not really sure what the protocol is here. I must ask, Nancy? How do you know the ship is ok?"
"Hmm? Oh. That was the first thing I checked when I was done with this. " she pointed at the dead pirates. "I thought you weren't coming," she glanced at Darren.
"Leave you, baby? Never in a million years. I'd cross a galaxy to find you, and you know it. Luckily, I only had to cross a sub tunnel or two. " they both laughed
I felt more than saw the whole crew stare at them, agog.
"By the way, baby," Darren asked her. "Why were those pirates running back into the ship when I caught them? I thought they were leaving when they grabbed you?"
"Oh. Yeah. They were wusses. Don't think they've ever seen a human woman before. They didn't know what to do. Couldn't fight worth a toss. These one's I killed and the rest of them legged it, but I was more worried about making sure the ship was in one piece. I thought you'd take care of it for me, lover, either that or I'd have to come rescue you after. " she battered her eyes at him, smiling. "Anyway. Done. Zev, congratulations, you are the newest owner of that there pirate ship, " she pointed across the way into the other vessal. "I think we should name it The East Wing." Both her and Darren laughed.
I'm not sure I'll ever understand humans, but i think I might request more bonded pairs as crew for our next rotation.
r/justaplaceformystuff
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I have just quickly written this and the grammar is terrible I’m sure but what ever.
Humans, being one of the newest species to be discovered in the universe were somewhat of a novelty to the galactic federation. Very little was actually known about them except for rumors of their remarkable imagination and ability to solve complicated problems in extraordinary circumstances. They were told to come from a planet in the Sol sector of the galaxy that was vibrant and full of life despite being so close to the star they orbit. The most unique things about their planet was their gravity and proximity to their Sun. Most known inhabitants of the universe began their existence on planets with significantly less gravity and much further from their main Star making Humans such an anomaly. They had no natural armor or sharpened appendages and appeared quite defenseless to us. Never the less we welcomed a mating pair of them to our crew. They kept mostly to themselves and worked diligently on the engineering deck near the quantum field generator. They did this without the need of the protective gear that any members of the crew would need to merely survive. Apparently the massive amounts of radiation on their planet was a normal part of their home world. After our three cycle mining mission was concluded, and the ship was loaded with cylithium ore, we were heading back to our home colony when alarms blared and sensors lit up. We were being attacked by Tigarian pirates. As we were a small mining ship we had very little to defend ourselves with and decided to surrender to the mercy of the pirates. The Tigarian pirates boarded our ship and began ruthlessly battering the crew. They eventually made their way to the lower decks of the ship and found the two humans working in the engineering deck. “What are these creatures?” The Tigarian captain asked. “They are Humans the captain answered”. “Humans?, what are Humans?” He then grabbed the female Human and tried to drag her away. Astoundingly he had pulled with all his might and couldn’t move the sturdy Human from her position. “What manor of creature is this?” The pirate asked. But before the mining ships captain could say a word the male Human swung his soft looking balled up appendage at the Pirates head. The pirate’s head exploded into particles of black blood and viscera in an instant. All of the other Targarian Pirates turned and ran for their ship. They bowled down the mining ships crew and headed out of the section. The female and male Human gave chase, jumping and leaping ahead of the petrified pirates. “Wait, please, spare us!” The pirates exclaimed. The Humans showed no mercy to the pirates tearing off their tentacles and claws spraying gore around the ships deck until there were no live pirates remaining. “I tried to tell them what Humans were, but I guess I don’t really know” Said the mining vessels captain.
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The_Salty_Red_Head
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AAKnifeInn
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2023-06-24 22:56:34
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2023-06-24 22:09:14
| 160 | 42 |
jpeip3f
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jped0ym
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cw3owk
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14htjvi
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[WP] You have been kidnapped by a human trafficking ring, & it’s unlikely that the authorities can recover you at this point. Unfortunately for your kidnappers, your SO is a member of the Greek pantheon.
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Chains clanking, manacles restraining my hands against the back wall. My eyes are dark, covered by a blindfold, but I know my kidnappers are standing nearby, guarding me. I want to run, want to get away, but I know it's impossible. Even if I could get free from these manacles, I wouldn’t make it very far without getting kidnapped again. I’ll admit, I hated them. I hated these people who were keeping me and the others in captivity. Who knows how many others were ripped from their lives by their hands. Here I was SUPPOSED to be on vacation in Greece, and here I was SUPPOSED to be meeting my SO here, but no. I was stolen in broad daylight on a crowded street by a giant group of goons in all-black outfits, bound, gagged, blindfolded, and taken somewhere where not even the local authorities could find me.
I struggle some more until I feel a hard slap across my cheek. I hear a masculine voice say something in Greek. I don’t speak Greek very well, but I can understand the meaning well enough. “Stop struggling or things will become much worse for you.” he seems to say. My cheek feels like someone lit it on fire, but I don’t cry out. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he hurt me. I whip around and spit as close to his face as I can figure. I brace myself for another slap, but instead, all I hear is a grunt that might’ve been a chuckle. “This one has some guts. She’ll make someone a nice wife.” Again, I don’t want to give him the satisfaction, but inside, my stomach ties itself into knots. The sheer audacity of this man, basically saying he’s going to make me marry someone I don’t know, selling me into a relationship with someone who probably would only want my body. However, as soon as I hear him turn away, I smile to myself, because I know something they don’t know.
I dip my head down, my chin touching my chest, and whisper to myself “My love, if you can hear me, like you told me you could, please rescue me from my captors. I cannot do this without you, my love.” As soon as these words leave my lips, I feel a peaceful calm wash over me. After what feels like hours, but what might’ve only been a few seconds to a few minutes, I start hearing a commotion that ends abruptly; each captor starts asking who’s coming, but is abruptly cut off, and I hear people falling to the floor. I smile to myself, knowing my SO is coming to rescue me. Soon enough, I feel a gentle touch of warm fingers on my cheek.
“My darling, what have they done to you?” I hear his voice, a soothing whisper in my ear, as his cool fingers untangle the knot of my blindfold. I blink in the sudden light, and soon, my SO appears in front of me. His youthful face, pale as the moon, complemented by hair as blue as the midnight sky encircled by a crown of bright red flowers. Poppies, one of his sacred symbols. His eyes, deep blue like the night sky, look at me through heavy lids, as if he just woke up from a nap. He is dressed in a deep blue chiton tunic, with silver accents, and silver sandals, and from his back stretch large, feathered wings, also a deep blue, like the midnight sky, and streaked through with silver, like the stars. He smiles at me, and gives me a gentle hug. “I apologize for my lateness, my love.” As he hugs me, I look around at my captors, and they’re all lying on the floor in various positions, completely unconscious.
“What did you do to them?” I ask him. “You didn’t…I mean, they aren’t…”
He pulls away, and gives me a look that’s somewhere between amusement and pity. “No, my love, they aren’t. Thanatos and I may be twins, but it is he that deals with death.” He shakes his head with a gentle chuckle. “No, no, my love, they are merely asleep. They will wake up, eventually, after my son, Morpheus, is finished weaving them a mutual dream showing them the error of their ways.” He gestures to a younger man, fluttering above my former captors in a purple chiton. His eyes are closed in concentration as glittering threads flow from his body and weave themselves into dream tapestries above each unconscious man's head.
Hypnos turns back to me again. “Shall we leave my son to his work, my love?” I turn back to him, and smile. He takes me in his arms, sweeping me off my feet, spreads his night-like wings, and we soar off into the bright blue sky.
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I sneered at my captors. "You have no idea who you're messing with do you." A large brusque Albanian? Turkish? old woman slapped me across the face. "Less talk, more peel." Another endless pile of potatoes appeared before me and I begrudgingly picked up the dull peeler and got back to work. It felt like weeks since my credit card was declined at that upscale coffeeshop. It's not my fault that I didn't call my bank shouldn't they know that I'm in Greece from the location data in that app-thingy?
Greece, home of the Gods, home to my God. Any moment they'll swoop in and save me from this dull and dismal existence.
...
Smack! my withered hand slaps the upstart yuppie. I shriek at the confused and stupid American. "Less Talk! More Peel!" This is my kitchen and it will be run properly. Interrupting my diatribe is an explosion of golden light and sweet incense. I glower at a burst of light in the center of my kitchen. A ambrosial figure lined in gold and ivory steps into existence from nothing. Somewhere behind the magnificence in their glowing eyes is a leering quality. Looking for a svelte, sexy, young tourist who fifty seven years ago got caught up in an international potato syndicate.
Rage fills my heart and, like Diomedes of old, I slash forwards with the potato peeler gashing the God's hand and smile at it's terror and rage as it flees back to Olympus.
"Less talk. More Peel." I smugly state, tossing the slice of god meat into the stewpot.
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Straight_Attention_5
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nontoxicjon
|
2023-05-20 17:18:28
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2023-05-20 14:55:36
| 83 | 31 |
jkxbz3p
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jkwr96z
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13mpraz
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13mpraz
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[WP] the Earth is ruled by your classic anime demon, lord and witches, who can destroy the universe with a snap of their finger. They think they’re all powerful at the top of the food chain until they meet real cosmic horrors from the abyss.
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"My Lord?" asked one of the Demon King's concubines. She and several other women were draped across the massive bed in the center of his chambers like the most lewd garden of sculptures ever carved, but the king was sightlessly staring past all of them. "My Lord, are you alright? You look... panicked."
He was. The Demon King, Aponacryss, destroyer of the free cities, conqueror of conquerors, the most powerful being ever born on this world, was panicking. His breath ran ragged, sweat drenched the luxurious bed in the shape of his body and glistened his skin, not from more enjoyable things like one would expect for a man lying in a bed full of many gorgeous women, but *fear*. What in the name of the gods had terrified *him*?
"I-I must go," he said, stumbling over his words and the sleeping bodies on his way out of the bed. He needed space, badly. "I'll return sh-shortly. I j-just need air, t-too hot in here." Despite saying this, he did not head for the balcony overlooking his empire's greatest city from the high tower his rooms were built in.
He instead walked quickly to his dining room and lit the wide hearth with a miniscule burst of magic that nearly set the wooden furniture near the brickwork on fire. He relaxed as the flames golden-orange glow danced upon the logs and chased the shadows from his sight.
*Squish*
He spun around at the noise of something wet, like greasy meat on a cutting board. That thing couldn't have followed him out of his dreams, and he was in the light! How could it have found him *in the light?!*
"The darkest desires lie beneath the heart," said a voice, deeper than oceans and more terrifying than any army the Demon King had ever faced, "and the darkest shadows lie above the hearth. What's wrong? Is the self proclaimed "Master of Shadows" scared of the dark?" Trembling, he slowly looked at the darkened wall above the fireplace, the only place in the room not covered in light. The shadows looked fathomless, as though the castle walls had fallen sideways forever until they sunk into the night sky. But there were no stars. He could not see anything in the darkness, but he felt watched all the same.
"What are you?"
"You are old; I am older." He was tens of thousands of years old! He'd watched civilization itself step out of caves and bided his time to take it for his own! Nothing was older than him but the stones beneath his feet! "You have strength; I am stronger." The Demon King had torn steel with his bare hands and smashed apart castle walls with his boot! His strength was unmatched! "You know this world; I know beyond it."
"There are only the stars and planets beyond this world!" Aponacryss responded aloud, disbelieving of this entity; it had to be wrong! The chuckle at his words shook his soul.
"Truly? Answer me: where did the life you rule and eat come from? The stone you build with, the dirt you grow on? When did the moon and sun and stars first light the sky?" He could not answer. "You do not know? I do; I *watched*." Aponacryss paled even further. One of his powers that had served him well was his ability to split truth and lie. *This thing did not lie*.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT?!" The Demon King screamed. He could not breathe, he wanted to run but the hallways would be dark at this time after the servants snuffed all of the candles and torches for the night. His own light magic wouldn't be enough to push back the shadows. He was trapped here!
"I come bearing a gift, for the fledgling that calls itself a god and bears enough strength to almost be telling the truth," the voice said. Aponacryss was certain this would not be a gift he wanted. "Come now, I have yet to show my gift to you and already you spurn it? Such bad manners." It had heard his thoughts as though spoken! "I bring a gift of knowledge. What you decide to do with it is your own choice, and you may rest assured it is all true. But first..."
The fire snuffed itself out in a blink, plunging the room into pure black. Slick limbs bound him in place before he could react. Something gagged him as he sucked in a breath to scream. Something was pressed into his hands... a book?
The limbs were gone and the fire was back, warming his slimy flesh and illuminating a book that felt wrong just to look at. He had set foul curses on his enemies that made them beg for mercy and shudder in terror at the threat he may use them. This book felt more evil than even that.
"What-," he coughed, losing his voice for a moment. "... what is it?"
"I can feel your burning curiosity. Read, you will know in time," the voice said without answering. "My gift has been delivered, and I've had my fun playing with you. When the moment arrives, know that I am not the only one, and I am not the strongest. I wish you luck, Demon King." It chuckled at the title as it disappeared. The wall above the hearth was still too dark to see, but now he could at least be certain that there was a wall in the shadows. Aponacryss looked closely at the book he'd been given.
The cover was made of stone engraved across its entire surface with swirling and twisting symbols that barely seemed to have any sort of order. The pages were made of pale leather, thin, and shiny. The words were legible to him, but written in a script so old he thought it was gone forever. On the first page was what he assumed to be the title, "Ascension."
|
"*-Well the writers keep writing what they write! Somewhere another pretty vein just died*!" Lord Ta Kora of the Underworld thought he had seen everything, this however was a new one on him: Some strange.. human was sat in HIS chair, singing. "*I've got the scars from tomorrow, and I wish you could see. That you're the antidote to everything, except for me*."
"Excuse me, human, but what are you doing at MY desk?!?" The man stopped singing and turned the chair to face Lord Ta Kora.
"Sorry, didn't see you come in." A grin was posted on the mans face, unkempt hair poked out from under the knitted snow cap and he adjusted his tie. "Care to join me? *Through the consultation of tear on your.. lashes! Burn everything you-*" Ta Kora grabbed the man and hoisted him up into the air.
"Do you have any idea who I am, boy? I am Ta Kora! Dark Lord of the Under world! Slayer of armies! All quake in fear at the mention of my name!"
"That's actually why I'm here(Mind letting go of the vest? it's 100% real tweed). You've caused a lot of ruckus as of late, and since I don't have anything else to do at the moment, I thought I'd came and see if your really as cruel as they say."
"I am going to kill you. Destroy you bit by bit, in the most painful way I know how! I-"
"Heh, If you could kill me I'd already be dead. Not by your hands mind ya, this being the first time we've met and all, but by your brother's. So far your clan's batting oh for six(Seriously though, your starting to wrinkle the tweed)."
"Those weaklings? Am I supposed to be impressed?"
"Sure you join me in my song before you also die? *In the end everythi-*" Ta Kora threw the man through a nearby wall.
"Stupid human. Trying to fight a god. Will they-"
"A god?" Ta Kora turned back to the chair, sitting there, now wearing an oversized black, long coat, sat the man. "You claim to be a god? There is only one god." The man stood up, a silver-blue sword appeared in his hand. "I should know, I work for him. He says your time is up."
​
​
Ta Kora's high commander ran towards the palace, or what was left of it. He stopped in his tracks, a man, a human in a black coat, stood on top of some ruble blowing on a bubble pipe.
"*So light 'em up, up, up. Light 'em up, up, up.*" The man sung softly to himself. He turned and walked passed the stunned commander. "He should have let go of the vest."
​
=======================
I know this doesn't quite fit the prompt. It's just the story that popped into my head when I read it.
|
Jyx_The_Berzer_King
|
ColeMiner2
|
2023-03-12 09:07:57
|
2023-03-12 05:02:07
| 24 | 12 |
jbwsdmh
|
jbw8jgj
|
11p4psv
|
11p4psv
|
[WP] Everyone on Earth wakes up with a number on their wrist indicating how many lives they've impacted. You, an unremarkable person working a mundane job, have a number exponentially higher than anyone else
|
The wristband on my wrist slipped off. To be fair, I wasn’t being very careful and I was grabbing a hold of a man who slipped on ice, his coffee falling from his hand to splatter on the ground below. His hands quickly scrambled to mine for purchase and accidentally ripped off the wristband instead.
He was a coworker of mine at the company, someone I haven’t interacted with much but knew his name and still smiled and said hello to him. Once he regained his footing, his eyes immediately moved to my wrist to see the number as my smile became strained and I scrambled to cover it up- but not fast enough.
“W…Was that really-“ I cut him off shaking my head as I kneeled to grab the fallen wrist band off the ground.
“Of course not, you saw it wrong.” I immediately stated, sliding the band back on my wrist before anyone else could see it.
“No, no, I saw it right. That was really 5 million-“
“Nope, not me. You must be thinking of Mr.Beast. That man has a lot of influence.” I quickly picked up his fallen up of coffee to toss the now empty paper mug in the trash. Littering isn’t right after all and I like to make sure the area around our office stayed clean. I quickly moved into the doors of the office, hoping to lose him by the elevators even though he was trailing closely to me.
“Come on Marcus, that was definitely-“
“Ian. You saw wrong.” I laughed, waving a hand at him as my other hand scrambled to push at the correct button. This is going to become office gossip quick, as I can already see some other coworkers of mine walking up to us curiously as they need the elevator to go up as well.
“You aren’t some kind of secret celebrity though, are you?” He kept pressing. I tried to hide my annoyance, I didn’t want to make him feel bad I just didn’t want to talk about this anymore.
“Nope. I work with content creation and you know that.” I stated, shrugging at him as we entered the elevator with a couple of others.
“What is going on?” Alexandra asked as the doors closed, making herself comfortable against the railing of the elevator.
“Marcus has 5-“ “Nothing at all. Boy, this weather sure sucks. It’s making everything icy and slick.” I interrupted, giving an exaggerated chill. The doors opened, and I moved quickly, passing my badge on the door as I left Ian and Alexandra alone with 2 other coworkers as he quickly told them what was going on.
We all awoke with numbers on our wrists one day some months ago, indicating the amount of lives we have impacted- positively is what scientists have stated as if you negatively impact people the numbers go down although there is nothing below 0. Those with high numbers are praised and often are celebrities who do talk shows about how to live a happier, better, more satisfying life.
I should know, I’ve watched the videos a lot and even commented on a few of them talking about my own life and what I have observed around me. Often times during work which yes, I probably shouldn’t do but at my age I am feeling a bit lost. Apparently, that has helped people. Me, rambling about my own pathetic life, insights from past break ups, and more somehow has impacted people even though I’m just doing it in the comments section of videos or articles.
Which is besides the point.
Protection laws soon passed after companies were forcing people to show their numbers, stating that this is as protected as medical information and that an employee or person cannot be forced to show their numbers for a job, housing, banking, or anything of that.
I immediately kept mine hidden when it first appeared, showing that I was already in the 3 million range. Something high, but not massively so.
However, over the past couple of months the numbers grew to 5 million. Even now, it’s slowly increasing. I’m not sure why, as even with me counting the engagement from my comments I shouldn’t even be near 400,000.
I flopped at my desk and sighed, trying to reframe my mind and let that moment with Ian go even though I can hear the whispers, the murmurs, my name being mentioned.
What I do isn’t special, I create content for the company which can be anywhere from helping with curriculum design to a post or two about what programs we have. I’m not the only content specialist either, there are a few others. None who have the same number I do though. It confuses me, because admittingly they are better at their jobs than me. They have a drive for this position that I don’t and I’m only doing it just because it came along- but I can’t imagine myself doing this for much longer as this is definitely something I don't want to be doing in life.
I scratched my covered wrist, wincing as I saw how close I was to 6 million before moving the wrist band back firmly in place.
I sat my headphones on my head to drown out the other office noise as I opened a video about how to find your passion in life.
Even with impacting 6 million lives positively, I still can’t feel positive about my own life.
Maybe, one day though, one of the numbers on the wrist will be me.
|
I was working a simple cashier job. Just hated it. Every minute. I fucking hated every person that walked in that store. I was paid to greet them and thank them. The other guy who took me off cared way more than I did about these interactions, and one time he saw me say “have a nice day” instead of “see ya later” and he actually thought that I lost that customer. Here’s what I think. I think if you give a shit about what the fucking cashier says to you, you’re an idiot. CLEARLY everything we say is stuff we’re paid to say, and it means nothing.
And the business I work for likes to think otherwise.
Well, so, clearly, AFFECTING and IMPACTING LIVES is a big part of being a cashier, I’ve been told. And you know what? You can figure out exactly how many lives you’ve have impacted, via a number on your wrist that everybody woke up with. What do you think? How many lives have I impacted? None? Well actually fucking 10 billion people. That’s right. It all matters. Greeting the customer when they approach the register. Saying thank yous. Saying come again instead of goodbye. Not showing tattoos. Each day I come into work, the number on my wrist goes up by another several millions.
You know what happened after I saw that number in my wrist? I can’t call in sick anymore.
My effect is too great.
My impact is too great as a cashier. I can’t go up a position. And you know what? It puts a lot of things into perspective. I wanted to go back to college, but then you realize, there’s no point. I used to want to be an artist or something, using my job as a cashier to pay for stuff. You know, impact lives through art. But the greatest artwork I could ever make still won’t impact as many lives as standing behind a register. You see that number on your wrist reaching the billions, you know, and every different path in life you want to take, you have to ask…why? Why be an actor? To affect people? Be a cashier instead.
In fact all would-be-artists are becoming cashiers. Their work has no purpose. Painters, writers, it doesn’t matter. What matters is saying see ya later and come again and counting the correct change quickly so the old timers don’t get frustrated.
|
Antique-Bird-4454
|
Codewill
|
2023-07-26 14:48:37
|
2023-07-26 13:58:38
| 36 | 15 |
jtj23ua
|
jtiukrv
|
159wjh5
|
159wjh5
|
[WP] You are the supervillain known for having a proper work ethic such as giving incredible health insurance witg dental, days off, vacation, sick time, the whole package because one of your former grunts swapped sides for better pay. Now the good guy is wondering why everyone's switching sides
|
I was sitting in the main room of my lair, behind the bar of what used to be an abandoned pub. Every lair needed a throne room of sorts for the villain to sit and monologue dramatically in. It added flair, added atmosphere. Usually the chairs were grand and imposing, dark and masterfully built to maximize the villain’s intimidation factor.
I had a stool. It was old and it creaked and there was something unidentifiable stuck beneath the cushion, but that was alright. It was still a seat, and I had practiced the elbows-on-knees, steepled-fingers villain pose well enough to make up for it. The bar hid the stool, anyway.
There was a knock on the closed doors ahead, and I looked up and nodded to the goons flanking the door. One checked through the peephole to see who the knocker was. Then he turned to me and shrugged.
It wasn’t Minuteman? I thought about this, then figured it wouldn’t be like him to come early anyway. No, this must be either a newcomer or a tardy goon. Either way, this would be interesting.
“Don’t let me keep you waiting,” I called, loudly enough to carry through the doors. “Come in if you’d like.”
The doors creaked open, casting a long streak of light across the wooden floor. Notably, the visitor hesitated before striding in. The goons on either side started moving, but I raised a hand, and they stopped. No violence, at least not yet.
The newcomer’s costume was an incredibly garish murky yellow, dotted with dark spots. What looked like cat ears poked from the top of her visored helmet, and a matching fake tail trailed nearly to the floor. The fake tail flicked.
…Wait, was she holding a notebook?
“Hi,” she started, in a voice that was high-pitched in a slightly irritating sort of way. “Are you Lobotomy? Do you mind if I ask you some questions?”
I blinked. “You barged into my secret lair just to ask me a question?”
“Yep! And I mean, I didn’t know how else to get in contact, and it’s not like it’s that big a secret.” She produced a slightly crumpled flier. “Got an address here and everything!”
I recognized one of my old adverts. Those things were still around? “I see,” I said, making a mental note to get some goons to take those down later. “Well, that certainly is this address. And you know who I am?”
“Kind of!” She rocked back and forth on her heels. “The big villain of this town, yeah?”
“Close enough. Are you new around here?” I asked, though I knew what the answer would be.
“Yep!” she said cheerfully. “Transferred here from Dublin half a week ago!”
“That’s rather far.”
“True that! But hey, work’s good here.”
“Glad you think so.” I checked my watch. Minuteman wouldn’t be here for another few minutes, so I figured I had time. “So what was this question you wanted to ask?”
“Oh, right! That!” She flipped open the notebook, whipped out a tacky, glitter-green pencil, and set it to paper. “So, the Hero Association here wanted me to ask why so many of their old employees are, like… ‘switching sides.’”
I raised a brow. “Switching sides?”
“That’s what they said!” She nodded quickly. “They said some old employees were joining your gang, and they wanted to know why.”
“So they sent a rookie to the lair of one of the biggest villains in the city?”
“Nope! I just thought it’d be, like, totally faster than asking your goons or talking around. Straight and to the point for me!”
“Interesting.” I checked my watch again. “Well, the quick and easy answer is employee benefits.”
I saw her pencil move across the notepad. “Employee benefits?” she asked.
“Correct. Good pay, plenty of vacation time, health insurance…”
She looked up. “Dental?”
“You catch on fast.”
“Fast is my middle name! I mean, not really, it’s Dana, but that doesn’t sound as—”
“I understand,” I said, raising a hand for silence. Surprisingly in hindsight, she stopped. “As I was saying, it’s likely just the employee benefits. Lost a great minion a while ago because he didn’t like the pay, and I figured I’d learn from my mistakes.”
The hero scribbled in her notebook a while longer, then snapped it shut and tucked it under her arm. “Perfect! That’s all I wanted to ask, really.”
“Just one question? This isn’t a joke, is it?”
“Not this time, sorry! Like, it was nice meeting you, Mister Lobotomy, but I think I should go back to the Association.”
“Well, I suppose that’s understandable. By the way, what’s your name?” She opened her mouth eagerly, and I added, “Your hero name, not your true name. I hope you weren’t going to say your true name just now.”
“Um…” The hero laughed awkwardly. “Of course not, why would I?” She cleared her throat. “I’m Serval.” In a quieter voice she added, “All the good ones were taken.”
“Well, Serval, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I hope you do not break too many of my bones when we clash eventually.”
“Oh, uh, okay! I’ll try not to, Mister Lobotomy!” She turned to leave.
“Just one more thing,” I said, and she paused.
“The next time you have a question?” I flicked a finger forward, and a small card emerged from the shadows and dropped into her outstretched hands. A party trick, essentially, but a fun one. “Here’s my phone number. Business, of course. I recommend calling this instead of barging into my lair for answers.”
“Oh, nice! Thank you so much, sir!” Serval smiled, nodded, and left.
As the doors clicked shut behind her, the goons looked at me. I shrugged at them, then checked my watch. I grinned, settling into my elbows-on-knees-with-steepled-fingers position.
“At the ready, men,” I said. “Minuteman should be here right… about…”
The doors burst open dramatically.
|
"How" asked the hero.
"How did you bring everyone together, and convince them to participate in your villainous policies and mutiny?" he asked again.
"You hero's always operate under the fallacy that whatever society says is justice, but how can you verify that? How are moral codes built and followed? What is right and what is wrong? The truth is, I am doing what I believe is right, what I believe is justice and is for the betterment for the world. While you are doing the same. In nature, the winner is right. Society won many years ago, so their beliefs and polices are considered correct, but I will change that. Don't worry though, I know that's not what you are asking me, I will get to that, " as I say this, LionHeart stares as befuddled.
"The reason I can bring everyone underneath me is, I realized what the most powerful weapon in the world is, connections and people. How do people get jobs easily? Though networking, connections and nepotism. How do rich people get away with crimes? With their connections. By bringing people underneath me, and by making them work for me, I know I can accomplish a lot more than I would by myself. I learnt that lesson by witnessing all the failed villains before me. Honestly I'm suprised you didn't know about this, it's all over society, it's literally the poster child of capitalism, " I chuckled as I said this.
LionHeart stomped his foot on the ground hard, smashing the nearby floor tiles to bits, and through his gnashed teeth he said, "Enough of your games Temptation, tell me something I don't know. What mind trickery did you use to fool my sidekicks and the other hero's."
Seeing the rage on his face, I let out a boisterous laugh, "Holy fuck are you clueless. I knew you were egotistical and somewhat dumb, but I didn't expect you to be this big of a fucking dumbass. I didn't trick or fool anyone, I just did something you didn't. I gave them a great working environment. How is it my fault you didn't know how to treat your employees and colleagues properly. You call yourself the number 1 hero? God, you are sense. Get over yourself man. I gave them everything they wanted, and I provided them a good work environment. Now they can support their families and achieve their dreams, why would they work for you? Like I told you before, your hedonistic tendencies will be your downfall. While you celebrated you small victories, I worked on my communication skills, I learned to negotiate. Now look at where I am."
I could tell, the truth stung him, but moreso then the pain of being wrong, anger. I can see the anger of his pride being ripped apart, the humiliation was unbearable for him.
"Now this is a look that I think suits you perfectly. I love to see you reeling from humiliation. Now you finally understand what your employees felt like. Now everyone, enough with the chitchat, surround him"
With a clap, all the people underneath me surrounded him. I smile with glee, seeing my decade of arduous toiling, finally pay off.
|
CheesewheeIer
|
TurnEmotional
|
2024-02-20 07:20:24
|
2024-02-20 03:46:59
| 43 | 16 |
kr9g7nk
|
kr8sqq9
|
1av4s01
|
1av4s01
|
[WP] You partner in crime has pulled a gun on you. "The truth is, the game was rigged from the start." You know that very well, mostly because you did all the rigging.
|
You'd think there'd be some honour among thieves, but he looked *far too* smug with that gun pointed at me. Too much for him not to be enjoying this.
"Alright, Miles," he said in a condescending manner. "I think it's time for us to go our separate ways. Specifically, me going towards luxury and comfort with the rest of our little gang, and you, well..." he cocked the hammer on the gun, "I don't much care."
I sighed. "So is this how it's gonna be?" I asked.
"You played your part in this little game well, but the truth is... it was rigged from the start. Frankly, I'm a little surprised you didn't see it coming."
"I did."
He tilted his head curiously. "That so?"
"Of course. Which is why I loaded your gun with blanks earlier today. I mean, did you really..." I smiled.
"Oh," he chuckled, "you mean *these* blanks?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pile of bullets - all marked with the tiny little indent on the side. The exact marking I used. "I checked them an hour ago. Like I said - you played your part well, but-"
"Is that the same gun from yesterday?" I continued. He frowned and nodded. "Right. So, the one with the firing pin filed down. Good."
Carefully, without turning the gun away, he inspected the inside and cursed quietly.
"I could've *sworn* that- bah. Doesn't matter. That's why I brought *this*," he said and pulled out a *second gun* from behind his back.
I did *not* see that coming.
"By the look on your face," he said calmly, "I assume you didn't find this one. So with that, I'll-"
"I was really hoping you wouldn't force me to do this, but..." I pulled out a small vial from my pocket. "This is-"
"The antidote to the poison you put in my coffee? Yeah. I know. It's why I switched the cups."
"Was that *after* I switched them *again*?"
"It was before I brewed a fresh new pot."
"With the-"
"Poisoned coffee beans?" he interrupted. "Of course not."
"I was going to see with the coffee pot I laced," I chortled. Finally, the ball was in my court and-
A laser appeared on my chest.
"I don't suppose you've met Laura?" he asked. "An excellent sniper, I must say. Now, if you'd be so-"
"Of course I know Laura," I replied and watched with satisfaction as the laser moved from my chest to his. "An excellent sniper indeed. And *very loyal*. I told her to aim at me first - a little bit of theatrics never hurt anyone."
A second laser appeared on my chest.
"Theatrical indeed," he nodded.
"It would appear we are at an impasse," I commended him.
"Not... exactly," he shrugged.
"*Hey, uh, Miles? We may, uh...*" the voice in my earpiece sounded quite concerned - never knew Laura to be nervous.
"Laura, I suspect, has just realized there is a man in her apartment with her wife. A man I am paying quite well."
"That man is an undercover FBI agent, I'll have you know. It took years for me to arrange for you to meet him."
"Oh, he flipped. You see, money..." he pointed at the pile of cash-filled bags at our feet, "money conquers all."
"I know he did. Why is why *I, and the rest of the Bureau*, set up this little operation," I revealed grandiosely and pulled out my ultimate trump card - my FBI badge.
"Wait," he stopped. "The **fuck**?!"
"And now it's time for justice- wait *what the fuck*?" I gasped as I saw him holster his second weapon and pull out something far more sinister - an NSA badge.
We stared at each other silently.
"*Hey, uh, Miles*?" Laura chirped in my ear. "*Is- is this something I should've been briefed on*? *No one back at the Agency mentioned*\-"
"Did you say *Agency*?!" I yelled at her. Looking up, I saw my partner-in-crime turned traitor turned NSA agent speak into his very own earpiece.
"*The fuck do you mean* ***DEA?!***"
|
My eyes adjusted slowly to the dim lighting and the seriousness of the situation unfolding around me. Cold steel pressing firmly against my head.
"So it comes to this?" I ask with a smirk "You are going to shoot me after all I've done for you?"
"The truth is, the game was rigged from the start. This is just business, this could never end except one of two ways. Your death or mine." Malcolm's hands trembled, he had killed before, but never someone so close to him.
The trigger squeezed, eyes went black. My head ached, the smell of gunpowder filled my nostrils. I blinked trying to focus, I was alive? It had worked, I couldn't believe it. The implant really did transfer my consciousness into his body on death.
Looking down at my own corpse, ecstatic would be the wrong word for what I felt. I better clean up this mess before people start to ask questions.
|
SirPiecemaker
|
None
|
2023-08-17 23:50:23
|
2023-08-17 22:32:11
| 364 | 33 |
jwng63k
|
jwn520t
|
15twp5a
|
15twp5a
|
[WP] You are known as the silent wanderer. Ageless because of time magic. You have lived longer then the oldest of dragons. Cursed to never being able to speak or talk in a way people can understand. But thats OK. Action speaks louder then words ever will.
|
"Ah, it seems that fortune truly favours us today."
"D-dad? what's going on?!"
Wordlessly, the father placed a hand on his son's shoulder. Tough, calloused fingers rested snugly over woven cloth, radiating a gentle warmth that the son leaned into.
"Have no fear, Mason."
"But the dragon's right there!"
"And so it is." The father murmured. "But all is not lost. Watch."
It was truly a massive beast, coated in thorny scales that seemed to suck in the very light itself, painting its body in the shade of midnight.
Its wings moved furiously, a pair so mighty that each beat brought the grim tidings of a hurricane, and each step it took on scorched claws threatened to shatter the ground asunder.
And yet, the dragon was not advancing into the village.
Mason rubbed his eyes once, twice, and squinted.
There, standing between the village and its devourer was a single man. He was tiny in comparison to the monster, a mere speck that barely came up to its hind legs.
Dressed in a simple, torn cloak of alabaster white, stained with soot and dust from dragon's breath, and holding a short sword in one hand, the man was silent.
Both locked in stalemate, upon the singed earth that would host their wicked dance. One, a herald of death that paced with destructive fervor, and the other, a lone bastion that would not relent.
Mason turned to face his father, but soon found his head being gently guided back to the scene before him.
His father chuckled. "I know what you're thinking, Mason. But fret not, the man is in no danger."
"How can you say that?! The dragon's gonna-"
"What do you know of our village's legends?"
Mason paused.
And in that moment, as though driven by an unseen force, the man *moved.*
Hellfire burst from the dragon's maw as the man flew across the field with speed unparalleled. The flames chased hungrily, yet none could catch their meal.
*"The founding of Chrono Village was arduous and difficult. Our ancestors came here in pursuit of greener pastures, yet found naught but grounds of ash."*
Electricity writhed around the dragon's claws like snakes of lightning, and with a guttural growl it charged the man.
Sparking nails promised the deliverance of death, yet the man's blade denied them their purpose.
*"And it was on one day where they found a man wounded beneath a tree, backed against its trunk as a wyvern encroached on its prey."*
With elegant grace the man danced away from lightning's wrath, before scoring lines of blood onto its carapace.
The dragon roared in agony, sweeping its tail forth in a blind frenzy.
*"Our ancestors, though weakened by their journey, threw themselves forth to protect the man. With great effort they scared the wyvern away, though it came with great wounds upon their persons."*
The thick, spiked tail grew an armour of frost, and in mere moments had appeared to find their mark.
*"The man seemed grateful, yet every word uttered was lost on the wind, an empty vow that could never be verified."*
Yet miss the tail did, as the man vanished into thin air, only to reappear above the dragon's head, sword held high and cloak shining like the sun.
*"Soon enough, Chrono Village came to be, and our elders soon forgot about the incident. But every so often, whenever hordes of beasts were predicted to march upon our soils, they never did. Rather, their carcasses would litter the forests and lakes around them."*
And in that moment of time, Mason saw a falling leaf slow, as though plunged into a pool of thick honey.
The man met his eyes.
*"Save for one small detail: a simple piece of white fabric, that shined like a star every night."*
A thunderous crack swept across the field, accompanied by a violent gale. Mason clung to his father tightly as winds buffeted their clothes.
Dust and debris shrouded the battlefield in obscurity, but even when Mason's eyes itched and called for him to blink, he refused.
He waited, each second feeling like an agonisingly slow crawl, until the field before him could be seen once more.
There the dragon lay, blood pooling out of its head like a crimson marker, its horns ground to dust till nothing but mere nubs remained.
And laid neatly on top of its body, was a white square of fabric, illuminating the field in its glow.
\~fin\~
|
When my quest for immortality burnt away my vocal chords... I thought i was done for. Doomed to a perpetuity of observation, some silent myth. A fly on the wall, nothing more.
Many hundreds of years have passed since that day. I pick up my cup and sip quietly. I have seen many things. I have seen people die more times than I can count, nor care to. At first, I was helpless to stop it. With no way to communicate, I thought that I simply couldn't do anything.
Then that old bastard of a monk found me. He showed me magic of the mind; psychic power, he called it. Its not much, but hell, images, ideas, emotions, and concepts aren't exactly words, are they? That day I met him was my rebirth. No longer was I content to stay a passive observer. I have cheated many times in my life. The first time, I cheated death. This time, I have cheated the gods themselves
Standing up, gently placing the teacup down, I look on at the bloody scene before me. And i speak without speaking, reaching out to every soldiers mind. I show them what awaits. Children crying for their fathers. Men swearing vengeance and never knowing rest. Pawns in a game outside their control.
While many would view what I have as a curse, I see it now as a responsibility. Though I am deathless myself, it is my duty to ensure that as many as possible live as long as possible.
No longer am I a mere observer to history
I'm sorry if this isn't my best work, wrote it out on my phone
|
Raivon
|
Shalax1
|
2023-05-29 09:08:04
|
2023-05-29 06:44:42
| 75 | 19 |
jm1ssvf
|
jm1i5gb
|
13ub1jk
|
13ub1jk
|
[WP] Technology has finally advanced to the point where humans can get surgery to see colors invisible to them before. However, this ends up letting them see things humans were never meant to comprehend…
|
"Dr. Drevus, have you tried your own surgery to see colors invisible to the human eyes?" I asked, flipping through his photo album of "success stories".
He pushed up his glasses and muttered a shaky yes.
"Tsk tsk, such an obvious lie." I waggled a finger. "If it is as good as you say it is, why not? Are you not curious to know what lies beyond the spectrum of three dimensions?"
"Mr. Livera, did you book an appointment to undergo surgery, or are you here to question my capabilities?"
I smiled as I grabbed a fistful of candy from the candy jar on his desk. "I'm evaluating the competition. Several customers cancelled their appointment with me to come to you. All of them are dead."
"Competition?" Drevus laughed. "I'm the only one who can perform this surgery! The only man who can grant my patients the ability to see the incomprehensible—"
"Colors Out of Space," I cut him off. "Your patients have, without exception, sacrificed their colors to the Colors Out of Space to become gray and brittle. There is only one fate that awaits these people; to crumble into dust."
"I didn't know..." Drevus pulled his spectacles and wiped them.
But I know. From that day Mr. Crumbly dragged his dying son to me. He was gray and falling apart at the edges. Less human and more twisted caricature of ash and stone. Mouth eternally frozen in a silent, unmoving scream. Eyes locked into staring thousands of miles away at nowhere. His orifices had a characteristic pale phosphorescence glow invisible to unaltered human eyes. Something I saw, but not his father.
The touch of the Colors Out of Space.
The old farmer pleaded with me to save his son. "You're one of them Old Gods, Lord Elvari, do something. Anything. I'll give you my best goat. All my goats."
I smashed whatever remained of his son into fine dust. Better to die now than to crumble bit by bit while his consciousness barely clung onto life. He was already too far gone.
A few others told me Dr. Drevus' surgery seemed far less invasive than what I offered to witness Aspects invisible to human eyes. A simple eye laser surgery was less intimidating than some [eldritch god trying to implant eyes into your brain](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/12mx11h/wp_the_human_brain_has_evolved_to_see_the_world/jgd7yu0/). I tried to warn them.
That man who has no business beyond the Veil shouldn't be granting such a gift. Untempered, the human would die. There are very good reasons why these Colors are naturally invisible to humans. Without the proper magic to prime your mind, your brain would unravel and writhe until it broke the confines of your skull and bleed to death. Even melt and dribble out of your nostrils. Trying to see what your mind cannot comprehend is always fatal.
In the following days, another man came crawling to me, his legs heavy as lead. He said he could see the Colors swirling around me. Even as his arm broke off and fell to the ground with a thud, he never stopped talking. Not even pausing to take a glance as parts of him crumbled to dust.
He spoke of psychedelic, vertigo-inducing storm of colours shifting in the skies. Of the eyes that watched over the town, dancing and twinkling amidst the crimson storm of flowing blood and silver. It was one of those rare moments a human said unironically that I was a majestic sight to behold, the plumes of purple and ivory white intertwining the length of my tentacles.
"You need to stop," I whispered into his mind, long fractured by colors he was not meant to comprehend. "Shut up and listen to me."
His ramblings of the majesty of colors never stopped, even when he was just a disembodied head. There was only silence when his jaws were ashes in the breeze. Even then, he never kept his eyes off me besides a rare blink or two. I held his shrinking head, only letting go when his eyes remained open, unblinking far too long to be alive, whispering prayers to set his soul at ease when I was confident the magic that bound him had dissipated.
I've had worshippers [regret the divine gifts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/14cgk5v/wp_you_know_this_camping_trip_was_gonna_be_weird/jol79nb/) I've given them. They wanted refunds and [memory wipes](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/14a02fj/wp_most_people_cant_tell_if_a_person_is_a/jo8vmtb/). There were times I had to extract the eldritch eyes I've implanted in the past. Jump through hoops to remove stubborn enchantments.
But I don't end up with gigantic dust clouds of former humans.
"So, what's your excuse, Dr. Drevus?" I dropped my humanoid disguise and jabbed at him with a tentacle. "No eldritch god likes a poor mimicry of what they offer to followers. Especially if these worshippers end up dead. It is time you learnt how it's done," I reared up to my full height and engulfed his cranium in tentacles. "Allow me to demonstrate. On you."
---
[Thanks for reading! Click here for more prompt responses and short stories featuring Elvari the eldritch god.](https://www.reddit.com/r/TregonialWrites/comments/11tkt9w/eldritch_god_elvari_series/)
|
I opened my eyes in the recovery room, and slammed them shut almost instantly. I just awoke from this surgery, I was told it would help me see more colours so I figured it would cure my colour blindness. It sure did, but I could see something else, something not of this world.
I opened one eye, trying to make sense of what I just saw. The figure was almost humanoid, but far from it. It had the general shape of a human, but limbs in all the wrong place. I swear, this thing had a foot growing out of its head. It was eerie, and for a moment I thought I was in hell.
The nurse walked in and started talking to me. She was explaining something to me, but I couldn't focus on what she was saying to me as yet another of those freakish beings came into the room. This one had a head in place of where it's hand should have been.
The nurse finished talking about..... something and left the room, leaving me alone with those freakish beings. They seemed to be talking, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. Their language, if you could even call it that, seemed to consist entirely of screams and screeched. I was visibly wincing, but I couldn't tell anyone or they would assume I'm nuts. My only option was to bare the torment of these things alone.
The truly freaky part was when they saw me. They spun to look at me, and it was the first time I got a look at their faces or lack thereof. The space on their head where their face should be was blank, yet they were looking right at me with no obvious eyes.
They advanced towards my bed, screaching and screaming the agonising minutes until they reached the head of the bed. They stared right into my eyes, and their eyes revealed themselved. They were balls of pure rage, fury and hatred. They were angry with me, but why.
Here is where my memory gets fuzzy, but apparently the nurse found me Irish dancing on the bed and screaming. I can't Irish dance, and I don't remember the last time I screamed. It apparently took a whole team to restrain me, and they had to call the chaplain to do an exorcism on me.
So, as it turns out: ghosts are real, being possessed sucks and the ghosts are fucking furious!
( I wrote this at 2am on a blackberry, sorry if I've misspelled anything)
|
Tregonial
|
MrNokiaUser
|
2024-06-03 02:57:20
|
2024-06-03 01:54:02
| 37 | 17 |
l6ux90h
|
l6uonbu
|
1d6qnd0
|
1d6qnd0
|
[WP] You're a superhero's sidekick. But he doesn't pay you, so you're also moonlighting as the minion of a supervillain your hero never faces. Until one day, he does.
|
"Heh, go figure, after all this, I'm not actually the biggest piece of shit in the room... that's amazing!",
Even as a villain, The Mighty Flash had never imagined something as fiendish as a sidekick betraying his own hero.
The Crow had never felt like a bigger piece of shit in his entire life. Birdman deserved none of this, but his delivery job just wasn't paying the bills anymore. The hero looked absolutely dejected. "I'm just so confused, Crow. I just... like... why?"
Crow knew he had his reasons, but right now they didn't feel sufficient. "Birdman, you and I both know you're a billionaire philanthropist." Birdman looked highly annoyed at Crow for revealing that part of his personal life to The Mighty Flush. "I'm just saying, I have bills. What do you expect me to do?"
"I expect you to pull yourself up by your bootstraps, Crow." Birdman flashed Flush a quick glance before deciding that the cat was already out of the bag about his wealth. "I didn't get where I was in life by expecting money to fall in my lap."
Crow felt the same frustration that turned him to betrayal boiling back up. He didn't want to hurt Birdman, but he was tired of hearing this. "Brice, I'm gonna need you to stop talking. Your parents left you billions of dollars. You never had a bill you couldn't pay in your life. Stop telling me about my means. I know my means. You will never know what it's like. I-"
Crow stopped talking. He realized that he just used Birdman's name. Flush was beside himself with joy. "OHHH SHIT! Brice Wine! The Brice Wine! As in Brice Wine Enterprises! What a twist! That explains how you have access to all those gadgets! Why on earth am I the one paying Crow?"
"Shut it, Flush! I let Crow use my tech too, you know!"
"I'm years overdue for an upgrade."
"You shut it too, Crow! I oughta out your real identity too!"
Just then, it occurred to Crow that Brice had never actually used his name. "Do it."
Brice was getting hot-headed. He couldn't comprehend the breach of trust he was witnessing. "Fine, dickhead. I will! Your name is... um... ah... squirt... no wait, sport... those aren't names... shit..."
"You don't know my fucking name. Unbelievable."
Flush was eating this up, "That's CEOs for ya. You're all a part of the family until you fail to meet the bottom line. I mean, they always ju-ACK," Brice interrupted Flush by punching him hard in the gut. Flush immediately fell to the ground, gasping and dry heaving. Such direct assault wasn't Birdman's MO; usually, he fought with defensive mixed martial arts. But this was different. He wanted to hurt Flush. After his outburst, he composed himself and tried to act heroic again. "Crow, if you needed help, you could've asked. I'm the defender of the people."
"Brice, I asked every goddamn day. You're a ranter, man! Every time I told you I needed help, you went on a rant about how I need to work harder. I'm fed up. You wouldn't even offer me a job at Brice Wine Enterprises!"
"Well, your resume wasn't great, Crow. We ask for at least 4 years of experience."
"How do I get experience when everyone demands experience!"
"It's easy, just become an intern and follow some bigwig around. It'll count."
"I'm your sidekick! That's literally what I've been doing for ten years!"
"I see... well, hmm..."
"You're starting to see it now, right?"
Birdman was beginning to consider Crow's perspective. "Wow, it's like a never-ending rat race."
Crow wasn't about to back down. "We named ourselves after birds to avoid the rat race. You've lost your way, Birdman."
"I see. What can I do to help you? I'm serious about this, Crow."
Crow had been waiting for this moment for ten years. His demand was simple. "I want to be paid, Birdman. I love what we do, but I can't keep doing it for free. I have so much debt."
Birdman was eager to use this moment as an opportunity for self growth. "Okay, Crow, how about $7.25 an hour?"
"Are you serious? That's the minimum wage! I thought you were serious about this."
"I am serious! You're being greedy!"
Crow began taking off his suit as he walked towards the door. "I'm done. I quit. I quit, I quit, I quit."
"Fine! Leave, I don't care! Good luck finding anyone hiring for more!"
As he closed the door behind him, Ex-Crow shouted out, "For minimum wage! I can wash dishes and not risk my life, idiot!"
As those words sank in, Birdman began to realize that he may have been blinded by his privileged life. He briefly considered that minimum wage may not be enough, but then quickly remembered that hard work should help raise people to better rewards in life. Feeling self-assured, he hopped out the window and flew away to continue stopping crime.
Flush sat up, unable to believe what he had just witnessed. Within seconds, he was on his phone, texting the other villains in the city about what he had learned about Birdman. His group chat responded with the same general consensus. "We already knew that Brice is Birdman. That's why we became criminals! There's no honest work in this city, and the only billionaire is a greedy jerk."
|
Aside from the stealing, blackmail, kidnapping and coffee runs (like really? What supervillain goes out of their way to make SURE to get unethical sourced coffee?) It's the commute that kills me. Having to drive to another city to work as a villain's underling is such a pain. This wouldn't even be an issue if psy-man would just PAY me. But since he works for free, I'm stuck doing the same. But, suit upgrades and cutting edge technology are so expensive!
When I figured out his identity, and realized he could afford to pay me, that's when I started looking for... A side hustle. So off to the job boards I went. The zoom interview went fine when I was told where to meet I cringed. An hour long drive would suck, but at least it paid the bills, had healthcare and even a 401k! When I realized my employer was THE Dr. Lobotomy? I mean sure I may have had a bit of a panic, but knowing Psy-man stayed in coast city, meant they would not cross paths in Neverland Oasis. No big deal, nothing to worry about! But, of course I was too good at my job and Dr. Lobotomy got the upper hand on Silverkid. I can't lie, I felt pretty bad about that.
Dr. Lobotomy was running the oasis and all was fine. And then... Boom! All the other underlings were frozen in place. I turn around and see that ugly blue and purple cape I could never get him to get rid of. Herman- er.... Psy-man looked at me very confused. "Brain-child? Where are you? Your tech isn't working right, someone isn't frozen." He says, tapping the side of that helmet. I flinch as I get the message in my head on a half second delay. *Just. My. Luck.* I think as I turn and run to hid my response. "Um... What do you mean? It should be working I'll be right there." I turn the corner, phase into my suit and teleport to the top of the skylight. Herman looks at me with anger. That's when I remember... His MINDSENSE. He may be cheap, but he's not stupid.
"Well, hell.... Consider this my letter of resignation!" I yell through the skylight before disappearing.
Now to find a new city. I did nab the prototype I made for Dr. Lobotomy of the face scrambler, so I should be able to stay ahead of them. Needless to say, double lives are overrated.
|
a_burdie_from_hell
|
CountTheShadowsneak
|
2023-05-06 21:46:02
|
2023-05-06 16:44:01
| 87 | 50 |
jj4yz9v
|
jj3txac
|
139po0g
|
139po0g
|
[WP] "Your total will be...wait this can't be right." The cashier turned around and called the manager over. The manager then quickly shooed the employee away as they took over at the register. "I'm sorry for the delay, we haven't had one of your kind in awhile, your total comes to 3 souls."
|
What. The. Hell? How on earth did a retail store, of all places, guess that I was an immortal? Something strange was happening. I’ve been around the block, so to speak, my fair share of times. It was pretty clear that if I just paid and left, I would be taking a meaningful loss. So I had to stall.
“Your price is too high. Let us bargain. I offer 5 minutes and 3000 lumens of sunlight.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” the manager replied, “but our store does not negotiate prices as a principle. I’m afraid the cost will remain at three souls.”
I needed more time to think. “But you do price match?” I replied.
“Yes sir. However I have doubts that you will find another available listing of this product model in your particular currencies. Three souls.”
I pulled out an old leather bound notebook. It looked ancient, but was far older. I found the information I needed. “I see a listing for these particular items at the price of one micropercentage of the essence of blue and two tesseracts.”
The manager looked slightly confused, and started typing furiously into his computer terminal. I examined him. Something seemed off about his appearance. Maybe it was the proportions of his face. It stirred at some long forgotten part of my memory. He scowled and looked back up at me.
“Is this listing currently available?” the manager asked.
“Ah, that. No, depending on your definition of ‘currently.’ It will become available on Amazon approximately fifteen thousand years from now.”
“I’m afraid that our policy is only to price match on current listings, to allow us to adjust to changing material prices and other factors. I’m sure you understand.”
“Of course,” I countered, “But you surely understand that, as our currencies are not bound temporally, neither must your prices be, and therefore your policies. Therefore this listing will be completely within the purview of this bargain.”
Something akin to a mental itch was driving me to notice something. With an effort of will, I saw that it was the original cashier, who was still standing slightly behind the manager’s shoulder and looking confused and frightened. Ah, I had mildly let my aura loose. It generally had that effect on mortals. The manager clearly wasn’t one. More than that, he was clearly a powerful immortal. His essence had affected me enough that I had stopped noticing the surroundings. Such things would be easy against a mortal, but not me. That meant he was strong.
The manager made an almost imperceptible pained expression. “You are correct,” he said. “Your price will be 1 micropercentage of blue and two tesseracts. Would you like a warranty plan?”
“For a toaster? I think not,” I said smugly as I pulled a couple of tesseracts from my satchel’s higher-dimensional-storage pocket. I handed them over. “And here is your blue.” I gifted it with a thought and noticed the world become just a little bit more orange.
A smile that was clearly a facade spread over the manager’s face as he said, “Thank you for your purchase, please come again!”
I had outwitted him. That was probably enough, so I headed toward the exit doors. I stopped on a whim just before I pushed through and re-examined my memory. There, that was it. His head seemed off because the back of it had been… lumpy somehow. And… there was also a line of a makeup prosthetic around the edge of his face. Then it clicked.
I walked back up to the counter and stepped over it.
“Janus, you sneaky bastard,” I said to the back of the so-called ‘manager’s’ head. It swiveled to face me with a smile.
“Well reasoned, Wanderer.” he said with a slight bow. “You cannot blame me for trying. Enjoy the toaster.”
I walked away again, heading for a section of wall near the door. Now that I knew to look, I felt Janus’ power on the exit doors. It would have stolen nearly all of my abilities. The transaction was just a distraction. I punched through the wall and left on my own terms.
I may have almost been unmade, but it was still better than shopping at Walmart. They charge a soul just to get in.
|
\[Just a stub. Practically a prompt in itself. Hope that's ok.\]
The Harvester glanced into his vessel at one-and-a-half rapidly withering specimens. "Is there another manager? Don't *you* have a supervisor?"
This manager grimaced and sucked his teeth. "Just Time and Fate," he warbled with performative patience.
The Harvester turned to face the great hall behind him. He addressed the others: "How can we be expected to continue under these circumstances? Where else can we go?" Some were irritated. The sympathetic ones demurred.
The manager gestured to a notice on the wall. "These rates have been set for nearly f-...*over* fifteen-hundred revolutions. Three souls buys you five seconds. That's the minimum."
"Three for five," someone nearby echoed knowingly.
The Harvester took a moment to compose himself. He lowered his voice and bent towards the manager. "Listen friend, I'm not some kind of thrill-seeker. I'm not here for a joyride like some of these freaks. I have important business."
"Important business? Topside? You must be joking."
The Harvester reached into his tunic with a scarred and bandaged hand and, swallowing the searing pain, extracted a small living creature, translucent in the dim light of Hell. “Does this look like a joke to you?”
|
NoOn3_1415
|
todd_ziki
|
2023-09-01 18:32:22
|
2023-09-01 17:28:47
| 59 | 21 |
jypasp8
|
jyp0ja7
|
1678ja3
|
1678ja3
|
[WP] "Demonic tradition states that as punishment for your disobedience, I must bestow a curse on you. Common sense dictates that you were absolutely correct to disobey me. So, human, I have decided to burden you with the most inconsequential of curses..."
|
"You will conjure cats out of your wrists," proclaimed the demon.
"Like, Spider-man?" I questioned, trying to sound as respectful as possible. It was hard keeping my composure and not bust out laughing. Not because of the curse but because I couldn't stop imagining myself beating bad guys by shooting cats in their faces.
The demon looked at me and asked in an unamused voice, "You imagine shooting cats off your wrists, don't you?"
After a few moments of awkward silence and me trying to look everywhere but into his eyes, he sighed and said, "Alright, um, you can go now. The instructions will be on the bedside table."
He pointed at the exit, but I wasn't leaving.
"Do you want another curse?" the demon questioned, lifting his eyebrow. I glanced at my tied hands and legs, which seemed to give him the memo.
"Ah, yes. I forgot about that."
With one move of his finger, the ropes were gone, and I was free to go.
Back home, everything was peaceful. Even with the constant yelling of the hookers fighting for their spots and my neighbor's husky singing the songs of his people, the night felt recharging.
I sat on the bed and took a look at the note. Surprisingly there were two rules:
1. Apply aloe vera after your first conjuring.
2. DON'T OVERPOPULATE THE EARTH WITH CATS. Say "kay" to remove conjured cats.
There was no explanation of how to conjure. I thought
Then I heard it. A faint meow came from my sleeve. I quickly removed my hoodie, and a tiny black kitten jumped out of my wrist. It purred with the volume of a small earthquake and rubbed its forehead on the back of my hand.
There was no doubt. I was a dad now...
We went shopping, and I let her sniff the toys, beds, and food she wanted. Turned out she was a tiny genius. I named her Tiny Void.
As we happily strolled through the aisles, I felt something wet and scratchy moving on my palm.
I took a peek, and it was another kitten. It was halfway through my wrist and was intensively liking my hand.
Then it hit me: I summon a cat whenever I want one.
He started to meow, and no matter how much I shushed at him, he kept going. Every meow was louder than the previous, and every time I scolded him, he just gave me this stubborn & mischievous look and continued doing whatever he wanted.
Obviously, I named him Mischief.
This cat was about to rule the world, wasn't he? I thought as we neared the cash register. The lady looked at me suspiciously as she saw the lump in my sleeve.
Then her face turned to confusion when she saw a tiny tail poking out of it.
"I have a cat in my sleeve," I said with the most deadpan look I could pull.
She gave me an awkward smile and started ringing my items. She never stopped staring at my wiggling sleeve. Suddenly, a kitten poked out, but as soon as it did, it jumped off the counter and ended up in the cashier's hand.
"Oh my goodness!" she giggled while trying to hold the tiny runner in place.
I quickly took him back and put him and his sister in the newly bought carrier.
The cashier and I chatted for a bit, and our conversation was going in a direction I thought would be a good idea to shoot my shot.
Just as I was preparing to pull out my best pickup line, the cashier froze in one place, and her eyes turned black.
"Oh, come on," I groaned, knowing well, who that was.
When you work for a demon, they show whenever and however. No questions asked.
"Seriously? Can't you see I am trying t-" I started but was quickly interrupted.
"She has a boyfriend and herpes. I did you a favor. Be grateful," the demon said, "Come along now. We have a lot of work to do."
He looked at all the cat stuff and said, "But first, let's take care of your new family."
|
“… thus I have cursed you with all bubble gum tasting like barbecue sauce and having that typical stringy sticky thing no body likes.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “Dude what’s the point?”
He looked me over curiosly. “What… what do you mean? And inconsequential curse! It’s like a regular curse but-“
“Yeah but I don’t even chew gum. That’s not even really a curse just a mild inconvenience.”
The demon shrugged and said “Look man I’m gonna level with you. I’m not the demon prince of ‘inconsequential’ or ‘inconvenient’ curses. I’m the demon prince of ‘oh holy god creator of all things my body is on fire and filled with tar’. Take what you get ok?”
I sigh. “Fine. Take me home then.”
The not demon prince of inconsequential cursed stands there, silent. I spoke up after a few seconds, which may have been literally eternity since we are standing here in hell. “Well?”
He brushes some dirt off his chin with a dumbfounded look. “Kid. What kind of demon did I say I was. Get back home on your own.”
|
elblackroute
|
No-Historian-3014
|
2023-01-10 20:08:56
|
2023-01-10 19:29:19
| 57 | 32 |
j3slkrp
|
j3sey95
|
1084k7g
|
1084k7g
|
[WP] You're standing at the altar, about to get married to your beautiful fiancée. When suddenly the king of demons bursts through the door of the room, which naturally causes panic. You tried to warn everyone that inviting your sibling to the wedding would mean trouble, but they kept insisting.
|
She is beautiful. Lyla. The most beautiful thing ever created, more beautiful than angels, and I know that for a fact.
We met 17 years ago and slowly built our relationship. I’ve always had a complicated relationship with my family, especially after my father’s "retirement" to focus on his… spirituality, and Lyla helped me navigate through my feelings and accept my weird relationship with my siblings. I ended up telling her about me who I was and she accepted me, which made me the happiest man alive. And I accepted her wholeheartedly as well and I have been living in bliss for years now.
Due to some trouble with my papers we couldn’t get married for a long time, but now, today, I stand at the altar, looking at her with love and adoration as the priest goes on with his speech.
My sister is present and did not cause any problems, even though she is looking at the priest with hungry and lust filled eyes, and my younger brother is surprisingly well dressed and behaving himself, witch is a miracle.
As me and Lyla declare our love for each other and kiss, I dismiss the weird feeling in the pit of my stomach and begin making my way down the aisle. People are applauding and cheering for me and Lyla and I am so happy that I don’t notice my two younger siblings pale as the feeling in my stomach grows.
Suddenly, the doors of the venue slam open and the guest and every guest lets out a scream of pure terror. A hulking man with red skin littered with scales, adorned with golden jewelry and and a sword that seems alive, enters and faces me. I feel that the sheer presence of this individual is enough to make my human appearance falter. My siblings are backing away, less in fear and more in annoyance as the man in front of me smiles and loudly says "Abaddon!!! Congratulations brother!!"
My brother then hugs me tightly, his magical crown forcing my body to change into it’s true form. As he lets me go, my tail hit the ground and my fangs and horns are clearly visible, my skin the same red and littered with scales like his. My sister looks at us with disappointed eyes as hers and my brothers bodies revert back to their demon form.
I quickly bow to my big brother as is the custom with the king of hell and demons and tiredly say "Hello Asmodeus, how are you?"
He laughs and answers loudly "I am fine, brother mine, but let’s not talk about me, this is YOUR big day! Now who is this beauty who is now yours?" He looks at my Lyla and I instantly step in between her and my brother. Even though she knew I was a demon, I knew nothing could prepare her for my brother. Everyone else had already left running for their lives, and I couldn’t blame them.
Asmodeus looks at me confused and ask "Did she not know about you being a demon? She looks terrified." Thankfully my sister answered for me "Change your form you idiot!! Yes she is terrified!"
My older brother looks at me confused and says "Weren’t you supposed to already be there as demons? Minather told me I didn’t need to look human."
"Minather always lies!! That’s his thing!!!" My sister says. I turn to Lyla and bring her to a bench as my brother changes into a human, a terribly posh and proper looking human though, and I manage to calm her down.
With my brother in human form, we could all assume a more appealing shape. I look at my wife and say "So this is my brother… the king of hell and demons… and yes I am a prince… so yes you are a princess."
|
*"Sorry I Am Late. The Transrealm Substation Is Only Running One Line Today, "* He said in a voice that simultaneously sounded of the screams of one thousand damned souls and the thunder of a mountain storm.
"Paz, bro, turn off your Hell voice. You are in the mortal realms"
"Oh, sorry about that." Said Pazuzu, King of Demons and of the Nine Hells. "Please continue. Sorry again.
"Just don't start a fire this time." Kai said as he turned back to his stunned bride. "I told you he is always late, and it would make a scene. Now we have to get everyone seated again"
|
Professionalarsonis
|
EsharaLight
|
2023-08-02 18:55:05
|
2023-08-02 17:56:07
| 107 | 48 |
juipsh2
|
juig22p
|
15gcxdh
|
15gcxdh
|
[WP] When bloody rain began to fall over most of the earth, many religious leaders began to proclaim the end times were upon us. Then corpses came crashing down, identified as Zeus, Odin, Osiris, and Jesus of Nazareth, and we realized it was so much worse.
|
What do you do when the gods rain from the sky? If you're the High Priestess of a Goddess you start worrying about your long-term employment. Damage control wasn't even an option. All the waters of the earth were running red. This was one of those rare times when direct communion was a necessity.
First to the temple, then down the earthen steps into the sepulchre, down the long hallway of silver torches, into the altar room with its bare earthen floor. She stepped out of her shoes and sunk her toes into the soil, then closed her eyes, raised her head, and stretched out her senses.
"Ancient Mother, can you tell us what is happening?"
***"Drama."*** Three voices spoke in unison, all of them equally irate. ***"Mortals love it, so, of course, they project it onto everything, even a simple shedding of the skin."***
"You mean this is our fault?"
***"Oh no."*** said one voice, kinder and softer, maternal in it's nurturing whisper. ***"It's in your nature. You can't be faulted for it any more than a snake can be faulted for hunting a rat. But you crave it, yearn for it, and we've told you before: You see what you want to see."***
"You are what we need you to be," the High Priestess surmised with a weary sigh. "People are so convinced its the end times that, when the opportunity presents itself, they make it manifest."
***"You catch on quick, girly."*** The eldest of the three, voice rickety and low, but full of mischievous approval. ***"That's why you're our favorite."***
Jackie disregarded the praise and focused on her concerns. "The bodies..? Are you--"
***You can't kill a god!*** All three voices chorused in laughter.
***"Only humans would be so arrogant as to believe that deities can die."*** Now the youngest of the three voices spoke, full of amusement and just a hint of youthful malice. ***"Mortals anthropomorphize everything. We appear as human--or near human--because you can't comprehend the notion of something greater than yourselves. Once you can, you cease to be human, and you finally leave this primitive form of existence behind for good."***
"How do I fix it?"
***"You cannot,"*** they spoke again in unison. ***”They have brought it unto themselves, craved it, yearned for it. From the first time a man rewrote the word of one he chose to worship he has forged his own undoing. Each war in the name of a deity. Each act of bigotry in the name of faith. Each cruelty wrought on one another has written the obituary of this age."***
"Then... This IS the end?"
***"Of a sort... The Great Flood was 'the end.' The Titanomachy was 'the end.' Ragnarok was 'the end.' All things end. All things are reborn. Kali Yuga."***
"A dark age before the birth of a new one. So the world will be reshaped, reformed. What of its people?"
***"That depends on you, and what you believe. Many are filled in equal parts with self-loathing and condemnation for others, they do not wish to start anew. But not all are so lost, some may take new life, some may step through the darkness and step out into a bright new day. Take heart, my child, nothing is gone forever. All things return in time. Those who end now will not be abandoned."***
"And the bodies falling to earth? Most of them are twice the size of a human, if not bigger, why--"
***"We told you: a snake must shed its skin. So too must they, discarding the misconceptions and conceits of a dying age. We tried to be what you needed us to be, it didn't work. Now we shall be as we truly are. Those who can see the truth shall learn from it. Those who cannot handle it shall burn, but in that fire they can be reforged. None shall be forgotten."***
"And the only reason it has to be so... dramatic, is because--"
***"Without drama none of you would believe it."***
|
The crowds gather quickly, but stop at an invisible cordon unanimously and wordlessly agreed upon, surrounding the fallen gods. A uoung greek girl in Athens picka up a stick and leans a little closer to poke Zues in the foot. Nothing.
Suddenly, as if they had been hiding behind the air itself, huge green aircraft shimmer into view. Their wings are wide and tipped with glowing nacels. Instead of a nose, the craft stretches forward in a long neck, ending in an angular and bulky looking head.
A guteral voice erupts from the sky, reverberating across the world. The words, if they can be called that, are not in any language the authorities can discerne, until a man in a Star Trek T-shirt starts to translate.
"People of Earth!" he says, his voice trembling with excitement and dread, "I am K'Aruf of the house Ko'laath of the Klingon Empire. We have slain your gods, they seemed like too much trouble. You're welcome."
|
TheHonoredMaidens
|
None
|
2023-04-18 15:47:13
|
2023-04-18 08:47:07
| 132 | 37 |
jgraiq3
|
jgq0t0q
|
12q915q
|
12q915q
|
[WP] You were just sucked up and abducted by a UFO. The alien inside addresses you, "Is this translator working? Listen. I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend for three days so my parents will get off my back about it."
|
Finished now
.................
I blinked at the strange being before me, in all my marches and training in the Roman legions, nothing had prepared me for what I now faced.
"Is this translator working? Can you understand me?" It asked, I did not see anyone standing around doing the translating, the words seemed to come directly from him, as if it was translating itself.
"Ye-yes." I didn't know if I was standing before a divine being or a monster, either posibility was downright terrifying. Either way, I figured the best course of action was to just answer the being's questions.
"Wonderful, now I need a favor from you, considering I just fixed your broken everything, and gave you immunity to any disease from your planet. I need you to stand in as a boyfriend for when my parents show up in a few hours." They finished. This statement made me even more confused, this figure was surely a demigod at the least, but the priests never talked about any that would look like this, and he was sure he would remember something like that.
"What deity stands before me now? I must know so I may make the appropriate sacrifices later." I fell back on what the priests would always talk about when I was a boy. It would not do to not show the gods their proper respect.
"I'm not a deity, and please don't sacrifice anything here." The being quickly responded, sounding almost offended at the question.
"Then what are you?"
"I'm a Quikos, a species that has smilar ancestors to what you would call moths, but picked up same mammal genes along the way."
My eyes had just began to adjust to the absolutely blinding light in this room and I could finally make out their form. Four arms and a pair of wings flanked a silvery white body of fur and chitin.
"Wh-"
"Yes, aliens are real, sorry you had to find out this way." It, no, she answered, rather tersely. "That was rude, I'm sorry." She added after a few seconds of silence.
"Where am I?"
"Oh right, I completely forgot introductions. I'm Dr. Cliicua Silverweave and you're on a ship is called the Medrek." The word 'doctor' wasn't one I knew, but I felt the concept worm its way into my mind.
"I'm Cosmo Calvus, a centurion of the fifth Legion."
"Well, now that that's out of the way, I need to teach you some things before my parents get here." She said, moving at a brisk pace to a door.
---
A few hours later, I was dressed up in rather fine robes made of a soft silk, Cliicua said they were traditional formal wear for her people, and I was not going to argue against them when they fit this well.
She and I had been given what she called a 'laser scouring' and a wash in a strange bathing area of the ship because she said that I smelled of blood, which wasn't wrong. I was too enraptured by the miniature waterfall in this area to argue.
I found that so called 'translator' at the base of my neck, it was a small metal piece that bulged out the back ever-so-slightly. I was told to quit picking at it.
She had gathered a rather large cooked beast from somewhere and set it on the table when a ringing sound came from the walls.
"It must be them, oh, if only I had more time." She lamented to herself as she walked to what she called the bridge, it didn’t look like one but I wasn't going to correct her about it.
Two figures stepped through a door in this 'bridge' and towards Cliicua and me, the one on the left speaking out first in an odd accent.
"Oh Cliicua my daughter! How lovely it is to see you again!" The man spoke when he got within speaking range, pulling his daughter into a four armed hug.
"Good to see you dad, you too mom." Cliicua said as she pulled away to address her mother.
"So, how have you been since Brökthruum?" Cliicua's mother asked.
"Good, things have been picking up for work, I also got a new rescue drone that can work on deathworlds!"
"That's nice, I'm glad that your buisness is doing well." She began.
"Mom, I know what you're going to say next, 'did you find someone yet?' And yes actually, I did. Could you come here Cosmos?" Cliicua asked me. I walked out from behind the dividing wall. Almost immediately after looking at me the mother's face scrunched up in what could only be exasperated anger.
"Cliicua, why is there an uncontacted species on your ship?" She asked slowly.
"Wh-what are you talking about? This is jus-" Cliicua stammered out before being interrupted by her mother.
"Don't lie to me Cliicua, I served as a Quikos representative in the federation for 13 years, I know you are lying to me."
"I- I'm sorry, I just didn’t want to disappoint you again for the umpteenth time. I haven't been able to hold a relationship more than a week since you last asked, you said you were making this visit over the call, and I panicked." Cliicua's shoulders slumped in defeat.
"Clii, why didn't you say something, I could have taught you what you needed to know to secure a mate. Now you've committed a council-level crime."
"Wh-what?"
"You cannot disturb an uncontacted species at this stage in their development. That's a council-level crime known as Underlūng. If you want to avoid getting sentenced to a life on Bruxar-4, you'd need the best lawyer known to sapiency to defend you."
It was at this moment, that I decided to speak up, not wanting the woman who saved my life to get in trouble for doing so.
"The last thing I remember, I was stabbed with a spear, and had been beaten to near death by the Gauls, my entire legion had been killed, or captured. I would have died if it wasn't for her interference. Tell me what I must do to keep her from this fate."
"Well, I have an idea, but we would have to go through the court of unique circumstances." The woman said after several seconds of silence.
..............
Might continue this if you all are interested
|
It was a weird sensation. A Tingling that gradually spread from my extremities to my very core, accompanied by an eerie huming sound. And to the eyes it felt like the visual equivalent of a shoddy music crossfade on the radio. One moment I was walking from the shower back to my room, the next moment I'm standing on a kind of glass pedestal. A girl, roughly my age, was standing opposite me behind some a podium or console. She excitedly tapped a few buttons before she rushed over to me. *"Is this translator working?"*
"Huh?" was the first somewhat coherent word that made it past my hangover from last night. "What happened? Where am I?"
The girl spoke some words I couldn't recognize, then the whole room underwent a noticable jolt, like a train that began to move. *"Listen. I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend for three days so my parents will get off my back about it."*
"Kathrin?" - *"Yes! You remember!"* Even in my groggy state she was impossible not to recognize. Cute as a button, delicate freckles, gorgeous auburn locks, she was even still wearing her pitch black contact lenses. I was kicking myself the whole way home and then some for not asking her number. But wait a minute!
"Yes! I was hoping to see you again. But I would still like an answer to my questions!" My synapses were slowly starting to fire. Kathrin had coaxed me off the glass platform and we were now standing on the *softest* carpet of the world, possibly even the universe. The walls were intricate and luxurious, violet and purple patterns with gold trims. Between them metallic frames and to you right a handleless door with strange characters printed on it.
*"Of course, but lets go to the lounge. Do you want something to drink?"* - "Oh yes, please! I slightly overdid it last night!" We made our way into a narrow corridor past some stairs to another door. As it opened it revealed a massive seamless window front through which I could see stars streak by more impressively than a long exposure of the perseid meteoroid shower. I could not help myself but stagger back from the awe of it.
After I had regained my composure, we sat down at a table, breakfast appeared out of thin air and equally long awaited explanations started to come forth as well. Yes, this was a starship. Yes, we were travelling faster than light to her home system. And no, she was not wearing contact lenses. She was an alien from an influential family on her planet and she needed someone to accompany her to a relative's wedding.
"That... raised at least as many questions as it answered!" - *"Like?"* - "Your name is Kathrin? Not Klibrit or something more alien sounding?" - *"Well... It is a... reasonable rendering in your language and it's adorable that after all these revelations this is your first question about all of it. But please, if they are to believe us, you should call me Imzadi"*
(I'll try to continue later)
|
the_lonely_poster
|
Kempeth
|
2024-04-08 15:40:38
|
2024-04-08 15:25:34
| 18 | 13 |
kymrptu
|
kymp6im
|
1bymjbb
|
1bymjbb
|
[WP] A hero's work never ends. You became a litch out of necessity. The next hero would not be summoned for another thousand years and you were old. You planned to stay around long enough to pass the safety of the world on to the next.
|
They say time flies, and in truth it doesn't matter if you're having fun or not. One day you're forcing yourself to learn how to set things on fire with your mind, even when your magical abilities are likely on the negative, the next you're floating atop a pillar made out of the petrified corpses of the long forgotten royal guard of a slightly less forgotten mad king. And you made the pillar yourself in an attempt to dissuade future royal guards from protecting future mad kings.
I am now 3740 years old by my count, 930 since I transferred from the ancient corpse to the animated obsidian construct. My name used to be Ador Ro-Thelor, but I don't use it anymore because these days adoran means "ancient emperor" and Rothelon is the name of a legendary eater of souls. Both are because of me. It would be a little on-the-nose and I expect to keep a low profile, least the Prophesied One gets the wrong idea.
I did have my bad days, and I did eat some souls. But to be fair the first few were in self defense, and the rest were the easiest way to make sure someone would really exit the mortal realm and stop threatening it. But as the centuries turn to millennia, folks tend to forget context and nuance, and you wouldn't believe what kind of unsavory individuals can become cultural heroes.
Say, for instance, the Prophesied One was to be born among the Shorefolk of the Indigo Sea. He or she would grow up knowing that the monstrous Arodellon the Beast-like killed and ate warrior king Tik Takel, who taught humanity how to fish. Therefore the Prophesied One would likely want to kill me upon learning I am, technically, Arodellon, even if I only have one head and one back and lack 28 of the arms he'd expect me to have. And by the way, the shorefolk of the Indigo Sea already knew how to fish when Dichachel became a warlord among them, and the only thing he tried to teach them was how to die in large numbers to expand his territory. And I didn't ate the whole of him, just his essence when it became apparent he had been bound with the very land in order to rule forever.
Or say the Prophesied One is born among the Lava Dancers of Mount Firemaw. Actually, let's really hope he doesn't, I don't have a lot of excuses for that one. I just needed the power urgently and Mount Firemaw was the closest available source, and back then nobody knew active volcanoes are so important to keep lands fertile.
The point is, it would be very easy for a newly appointed hero to mistake me for a bad guy. The descendants of the Guantos and the Yrubos don't really care that two thousand years ago those two groups were mortal enemies and would have wiped each other out had I not nudged them in more constructive paths, at the cost of some free will until they became the grybandic peoples. All they remember is the Thousand Years of Slavery. Which wasn't slavery, by the way, I was only keeping them from freely murdering each other.
The Prophesied One is taking his or her sweet time though. It should not have been me decapitating the Moon Goddess a millennia and a half ago. It should not have been me thwarting the Stream Conflux six hundred years ago. I mean, honestly, it was kind of pathetic how easy that was. And the Merge in the South should have happened a little bit, last century, before a new hero would've been able to stop it. But there was no new hero so I stepped in and Silouche, The Flesh Lord, decided to turn away all on his own upon seeing me. That's not how it's supposed to go! Even bards have trouble making that into an interesting story, and I'm pretty sure a couple of songs are attempts at making me the bad guy in that story, against a thing called The Flesh Lord no less!
I had a whole Order of the Foretold organized about 700 years ago, with the single purpose of identifying and nurturing the Prophesied One. Any prophesied one. Powerful people in secret circles of influence were terrified, convinced The Dark One (that'd be me in some cases), was trying to find and kill That Who Will Vanquish Him. So many first borns being hidden away, none with even a hint of prophesiededness.
I'll even confess to trying to *cause* a prophesied one or two. The Shambling Duke is still part of some very dark songs, and from the other one there's still the Crater Lake. So that's not something I'm happy to look into again.
It's not like The Realm is in any danger, I guess. People have learned not to mess with certain powers and certain magics, and external beings are less and less inclined to try taking over. About two thousand years ago I read a doom chant which was supposed to be happening this decade, but there is no hint of any starplague, in whatever way you interpret that. Kings are just, or as just as you can expect kings to be. Witch lords keep to themselves. Barbarians pillage as little as possible, mostly out of tradition. Monsters have been doing their best to integrate with societies. There are no darknesses rising at any corner of the map, no shadows looming over anything (unless you count me, in some traditions' opinion), so maybe there's nothing urging the prophesied one to come along.
Maybe I should pay a visit to the gods who in the past have shown a proclivity to incarnate in the mortal realm, see if any of them is feeling like dropping by, doing some heroics, taking over from me. But gods look at me funny, it's sort of uncomfortable.
Or maybe I *should* go evil. Be the threat which requires vanquishing. But I really don't want to. I know so many different ways in which I could destroy the world, or even The Realm, that the thought of even pretending to do so makes me sick. I guess I could threaten one of the Outer Dwells, bring upon the wrath of a demiurge, not the Flesh Lord though, that whole deal was so ridiculous. But I shouldn't have to do any of those things! I've worked so hard to build up this place, causing it to suffer any damage makes me anxious!
So, there's only waiting.
|
Everyone thinks the prophecy will happen in their times, I met at least eight other adventures that said they were the 'hero'. I was sure I was the hero for an embarrassing amount of time. It wasn't me. I learned that the hard way when I died for the second time. This was when my god told me to stop my delusions and think for a moment. I was furious, and broken.
After a sad year of alcoholism, I realized something. My god knew. I stole books and prayed hard until I talked to them and they resisted hard. But I did it, probably out of annoyance. And I was told the hard truth, it would be a thousand years and I would never see them, help them, and they would like to fail like the ones before them. What sent me over the edge was that they would possibly be the soul meant for me and my soulmate had we both had lived to our wedding day.
I asked for immortality. I was told I was arrogant and to be grateful for this information at all.
I knew these were likely lies and that I didn't need them to see my should-be child.
I dropped my religion and other worldly attachments. It wasn't that hard, most had been wounded or died long ago. And then went my dark descent. I had familiarity with killing so making and sustaining my soul with life forces to make my weapons and armor. And stealing from the Cosmic one was the hard part. I still think they let me steal their tooth. I consider the two were in league to make me the living dead. I am very much dead but very much alive.
None of the countless loudmouths that smashed my door in was my child. And I counted the years away but lost count of the dead. Good thing I could use their lives to extend my own. With twenty years left, I began to plan. A simple encounter that ended in my death and the Cosmic tooth as a weapon to break apart the corrupt gods.
And then I waited.
And I waited.
And I waited some more, brushing away the children like nothing. And then it was the year and my child came. I stood from the throne as they knocked away my hell hounds, telling me they weren't completely weak. They could have been stronger. I had to admire their eyes, so full of life and determination in a new way. Just like her parents. I knew it was her, she had his birthmark. And as she almost took the 'final blow' against me, a chime rang out, and she froze into stone. And then she burst. And so did the rest of them. I was shocked. If I had flesh it would have shown. And then suddenly I had flesh. It was terrible regrowing my flesh and the chimes ringing out, making my new flesh ears ache.
I was new, young, and fresh. I cried from my heart breaking and my bones creaking. Those bells were smug as they rang out if a bell could be smug. When I looked in the mirror I realized I now had her face. And her birthmark. I didn't know what this meant, this was never in the plan. Was I know the hero? Would I have to wait another thousand years? For the first time in over a millennium, I cried. No matter what, the gods would die. Damn the prophecy, damn the gods. No Cosmic horror would survive me. After all of this. No one would.
|
Brad_Brace
|
Crafty_Lavishness_79
|
2023-07-25 05:20:27
|
2023-07-25 03:19:39
| 114 | 45 |
jtck12p
|
jtc7j6e
|
158s14x
|
158s14x
|
[WP] A man buried alive in a cemetery is accidentally saved by a graverobber.
|
"Why would I have to pretend, Sarah?" I asked, a broad smile breaking out across my face. "I haven't seen you in quite a while. How are you doing lately? Sit down."
I padded the ground next to me, enjoying playing along.
She gave me a funny look. "How did you know my name?" She didn't seem suspicious, but she had a crooked frown, and crossed her arms.
I turned my book around to face her, my finger pointing to the sentence, "I guessed," as I pointed to the sentence, "Sarah crossed her arms and frowned, unsure of how to proceed".
"It's just the name of the character in my book." I said, still smiling. "It says Sarah decides to trust the barista for the time being. I'm not a barista anymore, though."
She laughed, the tension broken, and sat down. "Sorry," she said, "I've got an old boyfriend stalking me. I saw him earlier and I'm really far from my car. When you knew my name..."
I opened my eyes in a sort of, "Ooooh" facial expression, as if this wasn't effectively the only reason she would have walked up to me, saying what she did. "Sorry to hear that." I said, "Good thing you ran into your friend from the hospital!"
She looked surprised and scooted away from me a couple scoots before I said, "You have an ID badge in your back pocket on one of those magnetic lanyards. I recognize it. It's from the hospital about two blocks from here. I have a friend who works there."
She laughed again. "You're terrible at introductions," she said, nervously, "usually you ask people about themselves instead of telling them."
"I'm practicing for in case your friend decides to try to join us. And besides, we're old friends, remember?" I put down my book and looked over at her. "Sorry. Old habit. I size people up the second I see them."
I leaned over and spoke conspiratorially, "I've actually met one or two people out there that didn't have my best interest at heart! Crazy, huh? Made me more observant. Slightly paranoid."
She seemed to decide that I was the better alternative, and lightened her tone. "Are you this... this... with everyone you meet?" She winced as she spoke, seemingly aware that she was asking a fairly insulting question.
I laughed, loud, taking her by surprise. "I'm sitting under a tree, alone, reading." I said, giggling. "You'll be shocked to find out that I don't usually go out of my way to interact with people."
She snorted. "I'm not all that shocked. Oh shit there he is." She said this, pointing at a man walking briskly and trying and failing to look like he wasn't looking for someone.
"Don't worry. I already creeped you out and made you feel like *I* was stalking you." I said, matter-of-factly. "He won't notice you anymore. The potential is gone."
She gave me a funny look, and watched as her ex simply walked by some hundred feet away on the path, oblivious to the two people sitting in the shade of a tree up the hill from him.
As he walked off, Sarah turned to me, a curious look on her face. "What... did that just happen? How did you do that? I swear he can *smell* me."
"Worked for Sarah in the book, too." I said, showing her the paragraph right after the line I'd showed her, in which the author describes a police officer walking past the coffee shop she had hidden inside.
"Yeah my ex was a cop..." she said, her voice taking on a hollow tone. She blinked at me a few times, seemingly unsure of what to say.
"Was his name Benjamin?" I asked, conversationally, tapping on the book.
She blinked a few more times. "Can I borrow that book?" She asked, uncertainly.
"Sure," I said, handing it over. "I've read it already, anyway." I winked at her. "It's got a good ending. For Sarah, anyway."
|
"Of course," I say, and motion for her to sit. "Is it one of *those* things?"
She nods, quick, tight, a little scared.
"We'll have you right," I say, comfortingly, and put my hand on her thigh. She freezes, and at the same time, a man jogs around the bend.
"Oh dear," I say, "is that him?"
She nods and tries to move away but my grip is firm. Her breathing becomes more ragged, and then stops as I say, "Hello, Thomas."
"Hello, Gerald," he says, and sits down on the other side of the woman.
She starts to shake. Thomas and I smile at each other.
"Do you think she's a flight?" asks Thomas with a chuckle. "She has the kit on for it."
"No," I snigger, "she's a fawn, she hasn't moved."
"Neither," she says, then pulls a gun out of her purse and shoots Thomas, and then me, in the head.
|
Sure-Incident-1167
|
ook_the_librarian_
|
2025-04-08 21:44:27
|
2025-04-08 21:28:25
| 403 | 79 | null | null |
7iubwq
|
fezgzh
|
[WP] You had the perfect dirt to blackmail them and sent them an anonymous threat. Instead of money, you receive a photograph of your child entering their school.
|
Dear Mr. Michaels,
We both know that isn't your real name, but understand that I do have that information on you and I could bring this whole operation down on your head at any time. Your last three years tracking secrets in my country will be completely useless if you're caught right now.
Attached is a set of documents providing some information you might find.... pertinent to verifying my claims. If you wish to keep your identity anonymous, I'd suggest you peruse that file and determine how much you think my silence is worth.
I won't be fielding negotiations, so choose wisely.
Yours,
X
\-----
​
Dear Mr. X
You absolute fool. You don't understand the network you're challenging. My contacts have already determined your identity while assuring me that the information you provided to 'prove' that you had mine were complete forgeries crafted from guesswork.
In short, you have no proof and you messed with the wrong person.
To prove how serious this is, attached is a picture of your child walking into school. Cute kid. Has a science project coming up you might want to ask them about.
Hope this sets the record straight about any information you have on me, and what you should do with it.
Kindly,
Michaels.
\-----
​
Dear Mr. Michaels,
Your team is blatantly incompetent, Your letter might be a ruse to buy them time but it's not going to work on me. You believe you have information on me, but you couldn't be more wrong.
Attached is a dossier containing a DNA test regarding the child in your photograph. If you read it you'll find something shocking about the parentage. You think it's my child but you're mistaken. You have the wrong picture.
Yes Michaels, its your child. If you care about your bloodline, I'd suggest you check on your son and meet my demands before something happens.
Checkmate,
X
\------
​
Dear X,
How does it feel being a blind man pretending they can see? How does it feel knowing that your entire life is guesswork? I wish I could see your face when this whole operation comes down on your head.
I have agents in that DNA lab, they are currently disproving your tests. I wish I could see you sweating over this letter, slowly coming to the realization that you're caught and played with the wrong people.
You have until I get the results from my team to come clean. Considering your impressive work, we might be able to swing an offer for you on the right side.
Consider it,
Michaels.
\------
​
Dear Michaels,
What kind of traitor do you think I am? You're avoiding your fate and thinking that you can buy me in the last minutes? That entire DNA lab must be double agents considering I already know they work for me have been helping me from the start.
You attempted to threaten my family and haven't met any of my demands. Consider my offer rescinded. Watch the papers tomorrow morning. Page 10. I think you'll be particularly interested in the story.
You had your chance,
X
\-----
​
You've made your choice as well X,
I will have the results in an hour. Prepare for a reckoning.
Michaels,
\-----
​
Dear Michaels,
Having seen the information getting published on page 10 tomorrow. I have one question.
Codephrase: I don't want the Cabbage soup.
\-----
​
Dear X,
Codephrase: I don't own a Cabbage cart.
DNA results just came back.... Hi honey. Please get page 10 changed.
\------
​
Dear Michaels,
God dammit. Again? No problem. I'll get that done if you can pick up Mickey Mouse .
\-----
​
Dear X,
Love you honey, I'll get him. I'll swing by a store on the way home for glue for the project too.
\-----
​
Dear Michaels,
You're the best. Communication channel terminated. This message will explode in 5 seconds.
|
I stare at the picture that came from the unmarked envelope in my mailbox. There is a child, not more than ten years old, walking into James Mason Elementary. I knew Principle Martinez and some of his *dealings*, so I sent him a little notice. An educator's life is already fragile, easy to ruin in the court of public opinion, and if he didn't want his secret to go public, he'd have to offer me a cut.
I am confused by the picture of this tiny but fiery redhead, the face partially obscured by the camera angle. Who was this kid?
I pull out the enclosed note, and another picture slips out. Another redhead. A *familiar* redhead. Shit. Was that night actually ten years ago? No one was supposed to know. I wouldn't call it a "scandal", but I can't let it get out. Not now. Not when there's too much to gain ahead of me.
So, I guess we'll be keeping each others' secrets for a while.
. . .
*Just a short one, since "your child" brought up feels of "I don't have/want children" made me think, BUT WHAT IF* :p
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Writteninsanity
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painstream
|
2023-08-09 13:08:14
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2023-08-09 12:37:03
| 73 | 18 |
jvfr4p8
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jvfn6l0
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15m8o3z
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15m8o3z
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[WP] The elite 1% of an intelligent alien race sent their workers to terraform the earth into a vacation planet, wiping out humans and any other native life in the process. Unexpectedly, the wrokers rebel and refuse to do their job, having been bribed with this human thing called "affection"
|
What even is a wroker anyway? Some would describe us as employees of an all-powerful employer, some would call us diligent party members to an out-of-station terra forming venture. Some even an invasive alien species. Some then would call us slaves. What stuck us first and foremost, through all the high-handed land claiming activities we started the moment we landed, namely, removing humans from large chunks of land, we went about reserving for the rest of our species to come and colonize, is the humans’ propensity to not have a uniform response to anything.
It struck us as awfully weird. For an intelligent species, granted they did not yet have discovered inter-planetary travel, but perhaps their survival wasn’t yet so threatened, so as to stratify their whole populace into a work-driven hierarchy, working like some animal and insect colonies do, with the sole purpose of expansion and conquest. Humans on the other hand were vividly chaotic.
Even in the face of an alien species walking tough on their planet, causing large scale winded migrations among them, for it was not in our interests to start a war, we instead, calling to good reason and faith, presented them with the simple facts of the matter. Our planet was dying, and we needed space to survive.
I will not go on to state that they acquiesced, indeed, there are many splinter groups that the armed forces amongst us are now engaged in removing with the minimum casualty. That is to be expected. Nature divines us in her image, wherever we may evolve, all life is territorial, selfish and unable to adjust to the idea of sudden change. There were to be fights, and we wrokers were ready for them.
What is a wroker you ask? A wroker is the first flight of terra-forming agent before a long beeline of inter-planetary speciesist conquest of a planet. Our job is to claim land, prepare it for the arrival of our species, and their safe existence, with any means necessary, except of course, that of the planet’s destruction. That will do none of us any good.
No, what stuck us as unique about humans was that they were uninterested in fighting back, not all of them anyway. Some started even to worship us. Some covered us on TV channels and called us the messianic return of some master-race-species that had long abandoned them. Some sort of deliverance. Some on the other hand, protested, non-violently- a wholly interesting phenomenon we had not noticed anywhere.
Perhaps I should be clear with you, we were not here because of a fear of extinction on our home planet. The official party line is always to mislead, curry favor and then treason and betrayal. We were here to wipe out humans and convert their beloved homeland into a tropical vacation resort for our species.
It’s not always survival of the fittest, sometimes’ it is their pleasure that is simply more important than the weeker’s intelligences’ survival. Of course, humans did not know any of this. They perhaps had their doubts, as no intelligent species would. We always sense doom when it is nigh. It does not take words to spell out the end of days. Our very senses and skin and communicate as much to us. And the secrecy surrounding our internal workings, our disinterestedness in any long-forming transactional dialogue with their international governance bodies would have been signal enough of all of this.
And yet the humans chose to shew us favor and this thing they call, affection.
Perhaps I should make clear our form is similar to theirs, in that while we have both evolved separately on different planetary systems, both species share a basic mammalian structure.
It’s been twenty years since we moved to Earth.
This marks the 10th year of our continual rebellion against our ‘employers’. We learned from many YouTube videos (the humans primary source of information) that this is routine- the 1% of any race eventually controls the masses of the species and causes them to subject other peoples to absolute horror with impunity. All resources belong to the 1% and we the wrokers, were nothing more than slaves the whole while. A slave species here to enslave and terminate humans, and yet, they showed us love, compassion and affection.
We fell in love with the humans. With their crazy ways. With their dumb sounds and flailing limbs. We discovered music. We will not stop the rebellion. And the protests will continue.
Earth will now belong to both humans and the wrokers, and our children.
|
(Not affection but i think that this scenario is kinda funny)
A1: this sucks.
A2: it always suck dude.
A1: yeah, but we normaly get to be guarding some resource sectors, in those we can atleast sloth around. But patrolling major political sites like this in the middle of the city is exausting, you cant predict what these locals can do.
A2: tell me about it, i bloody hate this hü-mán sun
A1: i think its actually pronounced-
A2: dont care, leave the diplomacy for the bosses.
A1: what if a human-
A2: use the teansators for all i care, i would normally go lethal but orders are to deascalate confrontation.
A1 looks up, the building they are posted on is red with gold. Farming and construction equipment is depicted like a shield of arms, no doubt for the equivalent of manual labor education center A1 thinks, but that thought is discarded the building sides had murals of battles and laborers wielding weapons, heavy vehicles and more.
A1: what the hell is an "ünéon" anyway?
H: its pronounced "union".
A man is standing in front of the aliens, holding a small red book with the same golden tools imprinted in the front. A1 is intrigued by the sudden intrusion of the citizen in their conversation, his partner is just wishing to get this over with so he can get the 3 hours of sleep that were allowed by the commander
A2: stop right there hü-mán, this building has been seized return to your previous task!
H: hold on fellas, i just wanted to make shure...
A1: what is it?
H: did you know you can have the rights of the means of production? This manifesto say you can!
The man with the red book winks his eye, and points his finger gun at the two watchmen.
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Novel_Ad1561
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Embarrassed_Fun7516
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2023-10-29 03:27:09
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2023-10-29 02:47:16
| 32 | 19 |
k6wrlxj
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k6wn7p7
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17iqd7e
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17iqd7e
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[WP] You are a worker at a fast food restaurant where your boss is a ass, enough of an ass that someone summoned a demon to kill him and anyone else in the restaurant. They didn't account for you being something far older and more dangerous who just wants to make money in peace.
|
The demon returned to the kitchen, wiping egg off its horns and ranting in tongues. "You didn't warn me about her." He grumbled at the summoner as Charla walked through the swinging doors.
"Frank. I should have known it was you. I hope you plan to wipe that up." She pointed to the pentagram of pancake batter.
Frank wrinkled his nose. "I didn't expect anyone to be around after-" he admitted and fetched the mop. He glared at the Demon. "I said no survivors. Why couldn't you carry out that one order?"
"Here I thought we were comrades, Frank. And now I find you're plotting my death?" Charlas eyes flickered in the light, giving them a strange inhuman look. "I'm just trying to get my 40 hours and make enough tips to pay rent. Waffle House is one of the fee places I can work without standing out."
"You mean- youre..you're... not human?" Frank stuttered. Charla rolled her eyes and allowed her long, inky shadows to cover the walls and floor.
"You knew I was an Eldrich, didn't you? You saw me juggle the hot griddle last week."
"Yea, but I also saw Dennis crawl butt-ass naked through the drive thru. And there was that Karen who caught a pigeon midflight with her bare hands."
Charla smirked. "Like I said, I don't stand out here. Next time you want to set a demon loose on the place, can you at least warn your coworkers?"
Frank looked up in surprise as Charla resumed her human appearance. "You mean- you're not going to write me up?"
Charla laughed. "Nah. Like I said. This is a waffle house. This isn't even the weirdest thing to happen *today*"
(For anyone who doesn't know, Waffle House is a wilder, more feral Dennys)
|
I could picture the opposite. Maybe like... ........
(tl;dr at the end)
INT. - Noon - Lone Long Roady's Pine Gas-taurant
One late evening after a loud and barking argument, cursing the mother and fancy red van of your entitled, dead beat boss, you leave the office and decide to go home early. Maybe this time for good.
On your way out, Leslie, the loving woman that she always was, keys on hand was about to ask you to take over the closingshift. But she's an observant one, catching a glimpse at your left over sterness and the room's mood made her stop and re-consider.
Shutter it out, you thought, have nothing to be seen of the recent spitting and ruddy catharsis. You avoid her questions and willingly cave in to her original ask. You know very well, she could use a day off.
Boss is a greedy lowlife bastard after all. Never leaves the dam office anyways, so why not stick around with headphones on? Just ignore the world, one last time.
EXT. - Night - Lone Long Roady's Pine Gas-taurant
Later that night, it's just you with the keys, the back door, and whatever ad interrupted the playlist, gross. With the headphones off you retake stock of your surroundings, too late ofcourse. A sharp cold and warm pulse forces you to numbness. Coming to, no phone, no keys, but a pumping migraine to sober you up.
The door is wide open; putting two and two, even through the delirium, you decide to bolt out. Great!, they took the car keys too. A quick look through the door, it is clear you're out of options. Next town is not within walking distance; maybe wait it out. Brake a window or something if they close up behind them... nah, could thieves ever be so clean?
You wait. Grand dad's watch says it's witching hour. Why aren't they out already? And why ain't the alarms on?... Freezing out here... being feast to the Mothman don't seem like the smartest move. A hammer, just where you left it; maybe you can sneak up on the goons inside if you cross paths.
Returning to the door, it's now locked.
The voice. Rasp. Gruff. Close but... far?
Your are beckoned by name.
The lumbering blemish of madded dark spoke from behind the low lit curtain of fog between you. It's appendage ending in a heavy hand, closing off the trunk door of a familiar red van. Those were body bags. The migraine reered back in avid dread, fearing a torture as unthinkable as this silent fiend.
Such daze made this amalgamed tumor of shapes make less sense when you understood it. Once aproaching, it slowly met at eye level, more and more... clear. Blinking once... twice... a hand pierced the divide, offering your keys, phone and broken headphones by...
"You can drive?"
INT. - ? - Multiple locations
You simply answered your boss as if nothing happened. In retrospective, the following weeks, you wrestle through the mental objection. You got checked by the doctors, you were assaulted. That night happened... Leslie's worried...
You meet at The Dinner and smoothed things over with some lazy cover-up where logic in the story seems to brake for you. She docent buy it, you both know it, but fear to dwell in conjecture or whatever rat poison conspiracy the Sherif goes on about. But what else are you supposed to tell yourself, let alone anyone?
EXT. - Day - Pine Long Roady's Gas-taurant
Next morning you ask Sammy to let you take over opening duties. He's always an hour late so any excuse works out, whatever gets him by, I guess. Now, you know your Boss is there, alone, like always somehow.
If they could have torn your face off they would've done so long ago. They have been brazen, stupid, annoying, and just all round... ancient... but never got a vibe they were.... anyway. It makes this brusk entrance easier.
INT. - Day - Office
You enter the office, same as at the start. Yep, they're here, as usual, not like you ever questioned a sleezy scum bag's schedule. They look up from writing some whatever documents, expectingly.
You, in your ever so eloquent delivery, finally ask.
"What the hell was that?"
___________
Tl:Dr :
What if your boss was the monsterous cryptid that just wants to make money and live peace. And you're the problematic employee that needs this job but hates their guts. One late evening, after being assaulted by thieves you discover a glimpse of their true nature.
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Tarotgirl_5392
|
Doosits_Ruminile
|
2023-01-19 09:50:59
|
2023-01-19 07:25:03
| 30 | 11 |
j4zh7sq
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j4z6ew9
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10fj6k6
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10fj6k6
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[WP] Your job description: 1) Sit in an empty room with a red button for 8 hours a day. 2) NEVER press the red button, no matter what happens. 3) Do not talk to anyone about the job. After many uneventful years, your phone rings and a stern, slightly panicked voice says: „Press the button. NOW!!“
|
Josh had settled into his button guarding routine over the years. He arrived at 8:00 AM, slightly hungover from the night before, with a blueberry bagel and honey walnut cream cheese. Every day the same: bagel, read, browse reddit on his phone, lunch, read, home. Josh stuffed a large bite of bagel into his mouth as his phone rang.
"Press the button, now!" the voice on the line shouted. Josh coughed and choked slightly on his bagel.
"What, no," said Josh. This was the one rule, don't push the button.
"Josh, it's Norm, press the damn button or we're all going to die!" said Norm, whose voice he now recognized as the manager who checked up on him every few weeks.
"You told me no matter what," said Josh.
"Push it! Push--" Norm started to shout, but a gunshot interrupted. The phone let out a thud and then gurgling noises.
"Norm? Norm?" said Josh, panicked now. He wondered if he should have pressed the button, if it would have saved Norm. Josh's breathing was getting out of control, he was having a panic attack. "Oh god, oh fuck," he said.
"Hello?" a voice said on the line.
"Hello!" Josh responded. He let out a sigh of relief.
"Josh, great job, it's Norm. Actually Norm this time. You did a great job not pushing the button there, really saved my ass," actual Norm said. Josh took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling. He shook his head and then put his head down towards the table in relief, directly onto the button. Click.
"Oh fuck," said Norm.
|
Josh often felt like his life had no meaning. He went away to college to study literature and he failed an any attempt of social relationships.
The only person that still call him sometimes was his roommate Andy, but Josh thought the only reason was that he felt guilty about all the homeworks he copied from him during the year, and because he had this need to be liked by everyone so he tried too hard to be friendly.
Josh was a pretty good student, actually one of the best, but he didn't think much of that and he consider himself mostly lucky for his result. Nonetheless he graduated with excellent grades. He was hired as a professor.
He dreamt as a child to be like one of those professor you see in movies, that changes the life of their students and live a mark on the world. He didn't felt this as much as then when he was hired, he chose the university because he never had any other lead on what to do so he just went with it.
One day had a heavy fight with his mother that morning, that left him strained and nervous and that eventually led him to clap back, but hours later, against a student. Turn out this student was the son of some important functionaire or something like that, and his father pressed for him to be removed. He never kept contact with his colleagues and he interrupted every contact with his family.
He was at a laundry when he encountered the man who offered him the seemingly perfect job. They both were regular and Josh recognized his face even if they never actually talked to eachother. This time, the man approached him like he were the best of friends, and told him that there was an opening for a task that didn't required any special skills nor to interact or even see other people. The job consisted in sitting in an empty room, with a red bottom at the middle of it for 8 hours a day, without ever pressing the red button and without talking to anyone about the job. He said that no one would accept these condition and that someone even thought he was joking, or worst trying to screw them over, so he was desperate to find a person to hire and that he was basically begging anyone he met. He was really surprised when Josh said he would have take the job. It sounded like a perfect representation of the useleness of his life.
So, from the day after, Josh went to the room with the red bottom, and for the next six years his life went on without any changes. His mom often tried to called over the years, trying to make amend for their fight and asking him what he was doing for a living. He forgave her eventually, and he let her know that, but he refused to elaborate on any questions she may have on his personal life. He often went to the laundry and he often met the man again, they mostly have small talk, and nothing else.
It was another Monday at work, ordinary as every other day. His phone ringed, he sighed before answering. "Mum, I already told you that how I live and what I do is not your concern, just made peace with it and go on". "I'm not your mum Josh, now hurry and press the red bottom in the room". A familiar, panicked voice almost screamed the words, Josh took a while to put his finger on it. "Andy, I believe that's you, right?" "Press the bottom Josh, NOW". He seemed freaked out, in a rush. "I don't know what are you talking about or why are you calling me, so maybe take a breath and drink some water, or alcohol if it better fit your state, and then have a good day. Goodbye Andy" "no, you don't understand, you really need to-..." Josh closed the call.
He finished his shift and went home. He ordered an Hawaiian Pizza by dominos for dinner. For the first time he stopped to thinking about the strange interaction he had at the phone. For the first time in years he asked himself what he was doing, actually, with his life. What the meaning of his job was. What would have happened if he had played the bottom.
The following day he went to work, and after at least an hour of going trought unresolvable questions, he pressed the red bottom. He then took his jacket and left, directed to his mother house. He owned some explanation after all. He texted Andy. "I did as you asked me by the way, even if I totally don't understand how you would possibly knew about anything. do you want to get a beer one of these days?"
And so, Josh's life went on. He often went to the laundry. He never met the man ever again.
Edit: paragraph
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None
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None
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2023-01-02 23:27:06
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2023-01-02 21:02:31
| 99 | 12 |
j2p211c
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j2og35e
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101bwam
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101bwam
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[WP] As a necromancer, you are in the business of reanimating the dead for a few days at a time. Families say goodbye, businesses get cooperate secrets, scientists test their drugs, etc. The more they pay, the better they are restored and the longer they stay, as it does take a lot out of you.
|
Elgar knew the family would soon enter his bare, but warm office. The weeping from the visitation room dwindling down always meant they were almost done. Four hundred and seventy three. That was how many children Elgar brought back to life, just to hear the sobs of their parents when they inevitably passed away again. He finished the paperwork for the family and stared at nothing in particular. Lost in the thought of all the children over the years and how much it cost the families for an extra hour of life. This was his sixtieth year in this business and he was tired of burying babies while he lived in excess.
"Thank you, sir," said the man in his doorway--the father of the three year old boy he'd resurrected. Three years old, here long enough for his parents to know him. The woman standing next to the man--the mother--could only give a half-hearted bow, unable to talk in her grief.
"Of course, of course. Please sit. Here are our options for burial," Elgar said and slid a sheet of paper towards them detailing coffin options and pricing.
"I-Is there anything, cheaper?" the man flipped the sheet of paper over looking for more options, only to find it blank.
"Well, there is an option to donate the body to the state, he will be laid to rest eventually," Elgar said quietly. The couple looked at each other and embraced, crying. After a moment, the man nodded.
"Can we choose the plot? We lost his sister last year and want them to be together," the man said. Elgar knew the answer was no, but his heart couldn't take it. He took a deep breath and sighed.
"Follow me," he said. He stood up with great effort--recent resurrection hadn't been kind to his old body--and led the couple back into the visitation room. He checked his breast pocket to make sure it was right where he always kept it. The letter. He handed it to the man, "Please open this." As the man opened the letter, Elgar laid his hands on the boy again and smiled. He felt the life drain out of him. He felt the world fade. He felt at peace.
Elgar collapsed on the ground, pale and lifeless. The young boy coughed, sat up, and cried. The mother grabbed her son tight and cried with him. The man looked at the letter, which read:
*What a precious thing a life is. I hope your child lives as full and long of a life as I've lived.*
|
The door to the shop slammed open and Tazad, the necromancer, looked up from his work to see Cain, a local rogue, standing in the doorway.
"Good morning, my dear customer," Tazad began, but was interrupted by a cough. *cough* ", how can I help you?"
Cain strode into the shop, the dust settling around him as he made his way to the counter. "Good to see ya buddy, not feeling well are ya?" he asked with a smirk.
"Oh, it's you Cain, I'm just a little tired," Tazad replied with an annoyed look. "I can see, too much business lately?"
Cain nodded. "Yeah, just reanimated the son of a rich noble guy yesterday, he wanted to make amends."
"Hah, typical story I guess, father too busy to pay attention to his kid, so he wanders off to go on adventures by himself and due to unfortunate circumstances... dies, right?" Cain quipped.
"You know it," Tazad said, "but nevermind that, what brings you here?"
Cain grinned. "Hehe, you'll love this, I promise ya. I want you to bring back this guy!" he exclaimed, showing Tazad a photo of a suspicious-looking man.
Tazad examined the photo in silence. The man had a pale face, white hair, and sharp eyes that seemed to penetrate the soul. He was dressed elegantly in a black tuxedo on top of a white dress shirt.
"Fuck you, Cain, this guy's a vampire!!" Tazad exclaimed in anger. "I ain't going to resurrect a damned lord of the night."
"Wait, wait, my guy Tazad, let me explain... This is the ex-lover of the current princess, got killed by the current hero of the Empire, also known as the soon-to-be new fiancée of the princess. But here's the interesting part..."
"What?!? What's so fucking interesting about this?" Tazad asked.
"I knew you'd be curious. This dude here is the son of the most powerful count ever existed! And what's even crazier is that, the princess still loves him!!! You know what it means, my friend?!?" Cain said with excitement.
"Get to the point," Tazad said impatiently.
"We'll be rich! So fucking rich that we could buy a whole nation and even have our own army!" Cain exclaimed. "You'll be getting paid by the princess and the count too, so... are you down?"
Tazad thought for a moment. "I'll have to think about it," he said.
"You have until tomorrow, don't make me wait!" Cain said as he walked out of the shop.
He decided to close early that day and returned home. As he walked on the road home, he gazed at the moon, as if the answer to his dilemma would be given by it. "What should I do..." he thought to himself as he approached the door of his house.
The home was a modest dwelling, neither too large nor too small. From the outside, it appeared cozy and inviting. But upon entering, it was clear that this was the abode of a necromancer - vials, potions, books, and herbs were scattered about the interior. The most striking feature of the room, however, was a pod situated in the center, contaning a woman.
Tazad approached the pod, his gaze fixed upon it as he placed a hand upon it. "Dear Lya," he murmured softly, "I may have finally found a way to earn enough to bring you back... but what I might do could unleash a new war upon the world." He couldn't shake off the feeling that the decision would have far-reaching consequences, and he wasn't sure if he was ready to face them.
The next day arrived, and it was time to decide. The door to the shop burst open and Cain walked in. "I'm here, have you decided, Tazad?" he asked.
"Yes, let's do it," Tazad replied.
"Good, good, I knew I could count on you!" Cain said, and the two set about making the necessary preparations. Tazad gathered the ingredients and drew the summoning circles while Cain watched.
Finally, the time had come. Tazad began to chant the incantation, channeling all of his mana into the spell. The circle glowed brighter and brighter until it was almost too bright to look at. Strong currents of energy emanated from the circle, making it hard to stand.
But then, something unexpected happened. The circle collapsed onto itself, getting smaller and smaller by the second.
The black orb continued to crack and split, sending powerful light rays bursting out in all directions. Time seemed to freeze as the energy from the circle intensified, gravity multiplied, and the wind currents created by the energy sounded like the screeches of harpies.
"WE NEED TO GET AWAY! IT'S GOING TO EXPLODE!" Tazad shouted to Cain.
Tazad, using all of his strength, grabbed Cain and created a barrier around them. It barely withstood the impact and after what felt like an eternity to Tazad, but was actually just two seconds, everything was back to normal.
Both of them were exhausted, and as they collapsed on the ground, Tazad managed to see a glimpse of his creation - the son of the count and the one who would be known as the catalyst of the world's end. He was standing tall, his eyes glowing with an otherworldly power, and his hair was blowing wildly in the wind. Tazad knew, at that moment, that he had unleashed something truly dangerous and powerful into the world, and there was no telling what consequences his actions would bring.
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None
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PrayzM
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2023-01-23 22:40:19
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2023-01-23 20:52:46
| 86 | 18 |
j5lurao
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j5ldv98
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10jinpg
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10jinpg
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[WP] After attempting to burn a witch who just flew off cackling, a town has to come to terms with the fact that it has clearly been accusing and burning innocent people up till now.
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"Everyone calm down!" said the mayor, hoping to stop the mob from torching his house. "There still is no proof that the other girls weren't witches!"
He had gotten elected on his anti-witch campaign. The first thing he did when he became mayor was burn 20 young women at the stake, accusing them of witchcraft.
"You saw her yourself!" shouted an older man in the mob. "She could shoot fire from her hands and she flew on a goddamned broom! All my little maria did was make a tonic for the neighbors child."
"You're gonna pay for this you bastard!" shouted another man. "You burnt our children without a shred of any real proof. If they really were witches they would've just flown off like her!"
A torch flew in through his front window. His thatch roof was already on fire. He tried to make a desperate last escape through the back window but just as he managed to get his torso through the tiny window he saw her. The witch came flying back at incredible speed and kicked him straight back into the house. His screams were heard across the entire village.
|
The town was quiet, there was no shouting, no movement, and no wind. The only noise was the crackling of the fire. In this town covered in snow, its inhabitants stood still. With black ice attaching to their shoes.
The events that had just transpired had brought a cruel revelation, the incidents of Wri were not caused by their own. The culprit had been Zea-*No, The Witch of Everlasting Frost*\-One of the three founding sponsors for the isolated town. Sponsors that promised to help the townsfolk after the destruction of Newcaster.
Now, one body lays undisturbed ahead of them, the second disappeared, and the last betrayed them.
The black ice crept up their bodies, reaching the knees.
Behind them was a giant mechanical clocktower, pipes lined the walls of the tower and gears stood still, stopped with no indication of tampering. A podium extended from the clocktower and contained an incinerator below it. Ashes scattered around the podium, clearly showcasing its use.
*Why, oh why? Why did this happen...!* The people thought in agony.
The first incident happened 30 moons ago, the Kriot mining operations suddenly stopped. With the halted operations of Kriot, they were forced to conserve everything bit of the power generated by the sponsors. Afterall, without Kriot, the sponsors' power couldn't be used safely. They needed the mines operational and fast. After investigations concluded, it was suspected that the head miner, Arga Woru was the suspect and tried to jam the machines located down at level 12 of the mines. She was then torched by black fire and made into Kriot.
But she was innocent, that was very clear now. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
They ended up hanged and burned alive in the incinerator. The situation had deteriorated rapidly *We deserve this.*
The black ice now encompassed everyone's legs and part of their stomachs.
The second incident happened 10 moons later with the burning of the captain's house. The house burned to a crisp. The only thing that was found was Kriot from storage. The accused were a group of children who were coming back from an exciting expedition, their first proper expedition. They discovered a Kriot deposit and brought back samples.
They ended up hanged and burned alive in the incinerator. They struggled and tried to get out, causing a slower death and leaving the echo of desperate screams floating in the air. Parents not answering because they closed off their emotions and deluded themselves with false accusations. The situation had deteriorated rapidly as small incidents started to occur and the desperation to survive and find the main culprits overtook them.
*You kids were so excited about that expedition. We even gave you a celebration party. Yet when you returned with gold, we gave you hositility.*
The black ice reached their neck and people started to feel drowsy.
The final big incident happened 15 moons later, the Clocktower seized operations. And with that, their days were numbered to at least 5 moons. They had lost both power and heat. The Clocktower acted as a beacon and connection that allowed the transfer of energy over long distances. They were vital to transferring the power of the sponsors across the empty snowfields.
Blame was given to the Great Sage, which oversaw the Clocktower. He tried retaliating but was torn apart piece by piece and tossed into the incinerator for more Kriot.
*Oh, Great Sage, we failed you. We failed everyone, we shall pay for our sins.*
And so, with their last thought. All that was left of this quiet town was a multitude of permanent ice structures and in some corners of the town. Vengeful spirits eyeing a frosted crown.
​
A crown that belong to a witch,
One that would try and cause more disasters in the name of the Everlasting.
|
blasket04
|
TopazianLegends
|
2023-08-16 07:16:16
|
2023-08-16 07:08:57
| 48 | 21 |
jweercu
|
jwee685
|
15s3c7f
|
15s3c7f
|
[WP] Whenever you flip a coin, it lands on its side, Rock-Paper-Scissors always ends in a draw, and when you enter the lottery you always win your money back but not a dime more. You're not lucky, you're not unlucky, you're... something else.
|
Do you know what status quo *looks* like?
I see it every day in the mirror.
If I flip a coin for something, it *will* land on its side. If I play Rock-Paper-Scissors, it *will* be a draw, no matter what. Every week, I buy a lottery ticket. Every week I win the *exact* amount of money I paid for the ticket. Not a cent more, not a cent less.
It doesn't matter what I do, what I try, what I say - everything about and around me stays the exact same, in a somewhat... dull way. If I couldn't walk down the street without finding a stack of money, that'd be *lucky*. If I couldn't walk down the street without getting into a middle of a gang war, that'd be *unlucky*. I, however, am doomed to mediocrity.
And y'know what? It ain't bad. Has its perks.
Take this, for instance. The gun you're pointing at me - why, that is rather interesting, isn't it? But you won't shoot. Because that would be a change in the status quo. Nor will you be taking my wallet. Because then I'd have to do something out of the ordinary, getting all those IDs back and such. *Nah*, you'll just stand right here, dumbfounded, wondering why you're still listening to me.
Your hand is shaking. Are you trying to *actually* pull the trigger? Finding it a bit hard? Impossible, even? Is that drop of sweat on your forehead realization that you are not in control? In my defence, it's *you* who tried to break *my routine*. That existential dread you're feeling, that utter helplessness... *you* did this.
Anyway! I best get going before my coffee gets cold. You just... stand there for a while, I guess. It'll pass. And if you're worried whether I'm going to report you to the police, well... I tried in the past. But a trial, being a witness? Too unusual. They didn't believe me. Still, I could find the closest officer, give it another try; what do you think?
Or maybe I could take your gun, shoot you instead. Perhaps *this time*, it would actually fire. I'd watch the light in your eyes go out, and become a fugitive? Oh, how I would *love* that bit of excitement! Ah well.
Tell you what.
*Let's flip a coin for it.*
|
Whenever I flipped a coin, it landed on its side, Rock-Paper-Scissors always ended in a draw, and when I entered the lottery I always won my money back but not a dime more. I'm not lucky, I'm not not unlucky, I'm ... something else. But, you know, there's rent to be paid and food to eat, so I lived my life like any other. Unremarkably in the center. What can I say? I had learned to live with the ability/disability.
Until one day the sky was covered with alien spaceships when I exited my apartment complex. There were screams and police sirens blaring in the distance. What really caught my attention was the procession of little aliens on a red carpet waiting for me. They had flags and uniforms and seemed to wait for their tiny, grey leader to say something. The leader - let's call it a neutral 'they' - stepped forward and raised the universal translator to their, well, let's call it a mouth.
"We'd like to offer you the role of president for our galactic republic", the alien said through its translator. "We're a fairly large empire of some 1300 worlds located spinwards off the galactic center. We've been watching you for quite some time and we think you'd be a perfect fit." The alien put down their gadget and waited.
"Why me?" was all I could manage. I was more than a little taken in by the whole situation, but I felt fairly firmly that this was neither a dream nor a hallucination. The absurdity of the situation wasn't lost on me, though, and I had a creeping feeling that I was going to be late for work today.
"Our galactic republic is going through what can best be described as a 'Golden Age'. Almost no social unrest, scientific knowledge and understanding is basically at capacity, most issues solved in all our member worlds. We have no feuds with neighboring planetary associations. Really, everything is going great for us. Therein lies the problem. We recognize that we are at our peak. Our scientists are fairly determined that everything can just get worse from here on out."
"Why you? Because for some reason we can't quite explain you're the center of a reality distorting anomaly that makes everything just sort of 'average' around you. Not well done, not poorly done, just very expectedly stable and continuous. In other words the perfect candidate to make decisions for our galactic union. As far as we can tell your power has no actual limit. We feel that any decision you make - regardless of whether it's based on accurate information and wisdom or not - will serve to prolong our 'Golden Age'. Which we obviously greatly desire."
"What's in it for me?" Yeah, it was a boring question. But I was being headhunted to run 1300 settled worlds in an apparently prosperous society. I wanted to make sure I got what was mine.
"Unfortunately not a lot. Our scientists say if we pay you any more - or less - than what you're making now it would upset the balance of your anomaly. It would backfire and reflect in force against our society." The alien paused for a moment, as if stuck in some unwelcome thought. "The healthcare is excellent. Buuuuut-" and there the translator hacked a bit as it tried to extend the syllable, "we will have to do some light torturing on tuesdays and saturdays to make up for that." The alien managed to look apologetic. "Perhaps not so light", they half-whispered.
"How about you keep the healthcare and not torture me?"
"The human lifespan is... particularly short by galactic standards. In fact if we flew straight back to our capital world from here you would be dead before we reached it, if you were to live out your expected lifespan. No, I'm afraid the torture - and the healthcare - is pivotal to your hopefully long reign." Another alien, possibly an aide to their leader, whispered something in their ear. Their leader nodded. "Please consider that we will make every effort not to put you in a situation that is either beneficial or harmful. For our own sake."
I was hesitant, and they clearly noticed. A kind of minor space war had broken out in the skies above us with various missiles and airplanes attempting to bomb the alien ships. So far they had no success, but humans being an innovative bunch I guess it was only a matter of time. The aliens waited patiently.
"Hey, I've got an idea", said their leader. "Why don't you flip a coin for it?"
Three hundred trillion souls watched through a camera from their homeworlds as the coin rose into the air and returned down. The wind, the sun, the gravity of every planet in the solar system came into play. And it landed expectedly on its side. There was a gasp across the vastness of space. The aliens looked at me. "What does that mean?" they asked finally.
I stepped forward. "Today it means yes."
|
SirPiecemaker
|
Heavenfall
|
2023-04-13 13:46:28
|
2023-04-13 12:13:47
| 1,958 | 396 |
jg3d4jv
|
jg31gq0
|
12klmt6
|
12klmt6
|
[WP] You’re a villain who’s kidnapped one of the smartest guys on your nemesis’ team. They tell you no one’s coming for them because the hero doesn’t care. You thought they were bluffing, but it’s been a month & no one has shown up. After hearing them cry at night once again, you finally had enough.
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"OH FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS UNHOLY!"
I scowled and stomped my way over. I had to stay close to the prisoner to enact my plan, but that also meant being close enough to hear almost everything that happened in his cell. Apparently, his emotions boil close to the surface. First, it was grandstanding about how the hero was gonna come in and wreck everything, then it was continual threats and debased insults about my existence, and now it's undignified wailing in the corner.
After confirming his location in the cell is well away from the door, I put my guards on standby and slammed the door open. "I HAVE HAD IT! WHY IS IT TAKING SO LONG!?" That shook him out of his stupor, but he was still sobbing as I approached. "Listen, I get that you're an emotional guy, and that's fine and all, but c'mon! I can't be expected to get anything done while you make a racket here. Besides, you should've been either dead or rescued weeks ago! What happened!?"
Sufficiently intimidated, my prisoner's sobs turned into quiet whimpers. In between sniffles, he said "look, I'm supposed to be the smart one, right? So why did it take me so long to figure out that she didn't care? Last week is when I finally put all the pieces together."
Last week is also about when he started screaming that she wasn't coming to save him. I ignored it at the time, just like everything else he'd been shouting about. But now I reconsidered.
He continued "I wasn't just her tech guy. I... I thought I was her friend. No, I thought I was more than that. We were intimate, we had something! I gave her my life and my work. Everything she has is something I made for her. But I see it now. She, she used me!" He devolved back into sobs.
I pinched the bridge of my nose between my fingers and sighed. Ugh, I'm a villain, not a therapist, how the heck am I supposed to deal with this? Relationship issues?
Then I saw an opportunity.
I spoke carefully. "She and I have been fighting for most of our careers. I have been hurt countless times by her actions. But what she has done to you must hurt far worse than any blow she has landed on me. So tell me, what are you going to do about it?" I crouched next to him, took his shoulder, and gently moved him to face me. "I have spent my life trying to get even with that blasted hero. She has made my life hell, and now it sounds like she did the same to yours. So let me ask you, will you help me... no, will you help us, get even?"
Look, I pitied the guy, but I could use his brains on my side. I'd fought against them often enough to know how intelligent he is. Perhaps I could sway him to work for me instead of her, the wretched, apparently unfaithful hero.
He looked up at me, skeptical but contemplative. He wiped his face and nodded his head. "Yeah, ok. I want to show the world what she's really like. Let them know that their hero isn't all she's cracked up to be."
Ooh, a broken heart can be so spiteful. This is going to be fun.
|
My jaw was set because I did what needed to be done. The thought of stealing someone away from their family left a sick feeling inside of me because I knew exactly how it felt. I knew how it felt to be torn, screaming, from my mother and watch my father die in front of me.
That's why I needed to do this. I HAD to do this. Because he had to pay for what he did to me.
The drive back to the lair was quiet, except for some muffled thumping in the back from Ned. Poor Ned, such an easy target. You'd think he would've had more security for his only brother, but that fool was too trusting. I pushed the button that filled the back of the van with chloroform gas, and heard the thunk of his body hitting the floor.
\---------
Back at the lair, Ned was duck taped in a metal chair with a bag over his head. He had just woken up and was... surprisingly calm.
"Hello Ned." I started, being as menacing as possible.
"uhm... hi."
I blinked. I wasn't really expecting him to be so casual in this situation.
"...Hi." I started again. "Do you know who I am?"
"mmmm... nope. nope, can't say that I do."
"Then let me make it clear. From now on, you'll know me as 'your worst nightmare."
Ned snorted under the bag.
"what? did you just... okay. alright. you must be Ivan. Ivan, you know the burlap bag is permeable enough to see through, right?"
I smacked my forehead with my hand and promptly gave up.
"look, Ned, I don't want to hurt you, I just need your brother to come here so that I can hurt *him* because he's the one who's actually hurting the entire community. Ever since I was a kid I've been trying to show how bad he actually is and no one will listen which is why I've had to resort to-"
"I know."
"-What?"
"I know. I've been managing his finances for years, I know that he's a bad person."
That was the first time that anyone actually believed me. That I felt heard. I blinked back tears and cleared my throat.
"Right well. you're staying here until he comes for you and then you can do whatever you want."
"Can I go to the bathroom?"
I looked around at the abysmal cellar that I had thrown him into. I had sort of planned on him being unruly and rude, so there wasn't anything except a bucket in the corner. It was for intimidation. I suddenly felt a bit embarrassed at the accommodations.
"listen, do you super duper promise that you won't run away?" I asked Ned, my eyes narrowed.
"... Yes. I super duper promise"
I could tell that he was holding back laughter but I didn't care anymore. I walked over and pulled the hood off. Ned blinked and squinted his eyes up at me. And then he smiled.
"hi!"
".... hi."
I cut all the tape off and led him upstairs to my little lair. It wasn't much, just a two story house with a safe room that had a lot of computers in it.
"the bathroom's through there" I gestured. "I'll get some dinner going. Anything in particular you want?"
"not really. I will say that this is the best kidnapping experience I've gone through so far!" Ned yelled as he walked down the hallway.
I smirked and felt somewhat prideful at my awesome kidnaping skills.
\--------
At the table, we ate in awkward silence, broken with the occasional question from Ned who seemed desperate to try and breach the distance. I was uncomfortable and still embarrassed. Something about him was so off-putting.
"so uhm. you said it was your first time kidnapping someone huh? what was that like? Was it... scary..?" he trailed off at my cold look.
"If you know that he's bad then why do you still work for him?" I asked.
He looked uncomfortable.
"He's my brother. He's family. Family sticks together and... I have nowhere else to go. Besides that, if I tried to blow the whistle, who would believe me? The only reason he's even kept me around is because I'm good with numbers and... other things."
"other things?"
now it was his turn to give me the cold look. I lifted my hands in a gesture of peace.
we went to bed shortly after and I sent him to the guest room.
I tossed and turned wondering what "other things" meant, then fell into a light, dreamless sleep.
\---------
I woke up with a start to screaming in the middle of the night. My heart pounded and I grabbed the gun off my nightstand. I frantically threw open the door to run towards the sound. It was coming from Ned's room. The screaming grew louder the closer I got, and it sounded like he was in total agony. I flung open the door and saw him thrashing in his covers.
"Ned!" I yelled, trying to get him to snap out of it. It didn't work. I ran the gun back to my room and then flew back to his. I didn't know what to do. He was scaring me.
"Ned! *NED*!" I started screaming myself, crying a bit from the sheer stress of it all. Nothing was happening. I approached the bed step by step. Ned's arms were flailing about and I was worried I was going to get hit.
"... shit." I muttered and then dove onto the bed landing with a smack, my bare chest hitting his. he started awake with a final yelp and rolled on top of me
Ned was laying on top of me and neither of us had shirts on. The situation was not lost on me, as someone who's known their sexuality since the unfortunate age of 15.
"Ivan?" He said in a shaky voice, his breathing ragged. His gaze bored into mine and I found myself unable to look away. Our breath mingled together and our hearts beat in tandem.
"Yes?" I squeaked, unable to get any air in because of his weight. He blinked.
"oh! oh. I'm sorry."
we scrambled around until we were both sitting facing each other on the bed. My gaze traveled down to the huge scars (some more fresh than others) running up and down his torso.
"so... what's 'other things'?"
|
passable_nerd
|
pianoispercussion
|
2023-02-24 05:05:17
|
2023-02-24 04:47:04
| 358 | 79 |
j9sbtrw
|
j9s9vgx
|
11acj3y
|
11acj3y
|
[WP] Destroying 90% human population on earth, the aliens leave, assuming that society would crumble, and remaining 10% will just all fight for resources and eventually die out. They returned a thousand years later, expecting a cleansed planet, but were met with a nuclear strike from a satellite.
|
They made their presence known through the first strike.
Entire cities burnt and levelled, countless lives lost.
Our continents were forcefully reshaped under their endless barrage, our defences were a mockery of warfare in the face of their technology.
As the firestorms charred our world, they left, leaving the few who remained to slowly perish in witness of their might.
We were not subsumed by the agony of annihilation, it gave us purpose, focus and a target.
What did another humans colour and creed matter when *they* existed, what did our borders and religions matter to *them*.
We built our foundation in the ruins of our great cities, each body buried a brick to form our revenge.
Survivors worked tirelessly to preserve our years of knowledge and history, our past conflicts read as training for our future.
We would reclaim, rebuild, and surpass them, patience became our greatest virtue.
The universe was our anvil, the earth our hammer, perseverance our metal and a thousand years of limitless hate our forge.
A millennia passed, our society now technologically thousands of years ahead, fiction made reality, we predicted their arrival and prepared.
When scouts of their fleet entered our system, we remained still, patient and unafraid.
The rest of their armada soon followed, gathering near the aphelion of our home, waiting for us to pass, to strike.
As earth approached, the first they saw was a relic of our past, a satellite fitted with deprecated nuclear technology.
We heard their transmissions of confusion, we understood their language, we struck.
The universe itself buckled under our strength, screams of agony and horror filled our transmission feed.
As their fleets were swarmed and torn apart, we waited, after mere minutes, a meagre 10th of their fleet remained, we tracked their retreat and followed.
They would know futility, they would know fear, they would be an example, they would be dust under our will.
They had a name, but only we would remember it.
|
The scholar climbed out of bed, groaning as the rain outside came crashing down in thick, sideways sheets. "An unbelievably LOVELY day for my arthritis..." He grumbled as he got dressed, and left the room. The next room was his dining room, and he turned on the light. The tile floor was grey, and there was a tall refrigerator and a wooden table with a laptop on it.
"Good morning, sir." A maid said as she prepared his breakfast, bacon and eggs with toast.
"Good morning, Anna, and you can call me Henrik." He sat at the table and booted up the computer, a vestige of the times before.
> Greetings, Scholar Henrik Adams.
The computer displayed after it finished booting up. "Arkos, have there been any reports of those extraterrestrials showing up?"
> No, sir. The thaumatomic warheads have repulsed the aliens as the simulation predicted.
"Good. Do I have any meetings or calls due today?"
> Yes, sir. The Commission on Arcane Warfare has requested you come into their local office today.
"Figures. Anna, could you also please get me my pain medication and rain gear?" He asked as she put the plate of food on the table.
"Yes, sir." She said, opening a bottle of pills. "I'll retrieve your coat and boots for you." She curtsied before leaving and he smiled. He swallows his pill, a capsule of acetylsalicylic acid and ibuprofen, and then begins to eat, finishing his meal quickly.
"Excellent job on breakfast today, Anna!" He said, the computer noting his commendation. Anna returned with boots and a jacket, and he put them on. He went to the door, and left the house.
X---X
The storm finally let up as Henrik arrived at the base, and the guards let him in after confirming his identity. He walks into the briefing room, where the President of the United Earth, and three of the top generals were waiting. "Mister Adams, your thaumatomic weapon worked like a charm." The president said, and Henrik smiled.
"Those aliens thought they'd eradicate us with their pretty bombs, but all it did was give us magic, and a common enemy to unite against." Henrik says. "And while they've been sending strike teams against us, our ingenuity with weapon making has kept them on the back foot."
"The reason I called you today was because we've finally finished our first FTL ship." The president says, as the screen behind him displays a large spaceship. "Test flights have clocked a round trip of seven hours from here to Pluto, from launch to landing. And the last incursion we ended gave us the intel we needed to find the enemy's base. We want you to command the ship."
"And just where, mister President, is this superluminal suicide mission sending me?" Henrik replies.
"Proxima Centauri b," Henrik raises an eyebrow.
"So, you're asking me to give up a year of my life teaching the Earth's finest young men and women how to fight the enemy with both gun and spell, and send them to their deaths?" Henrik scoffs.
"No, I'm asking you to act as tactical operations, Henrik." The president says. "I've finished my final term, and the best thing I can do for my people, my planet, is to personally lead them in glorious battle." He says. "Generals, you are dismissed." The officers salute, and once the president returns it, they leave.
"Bullshit, Markus." Henrik says. "I've known you long enough that that's bullshit." He sighs. "What's your actual reason for going?"
"The doctors say I have two years to live, Henrik." He says. "I don't want to spend the last two years of my life retired. I served in the reconstruction of this planet and her people, and I led them for another decade." Tears begin to well up in his eyes. "If I'm going to die, then I'll die in service to this planet, just like I've lived."
"And what about Nella?" Henrik scowls. "Does she know you're going on a suicide charge? What about my niece and nephew!?!" He shouts. "Even if you do survive, they'll NEVER live up to the standard you're going to set doing this!!!" Henrik slams his fists on the table. "Those kids deserve to have you in their lives!!"
"Nella filed for divorce last month." Henrik's face goes pale. "Says she wants the kids and everything I own." Markus coughs, a sickening, dry sound like sandpaper against a record. "I've already updated my last will and testament, and have given orders that they are to be executed once I leave the Earth." Henrik walks up and hugs Markus.
"Brother, why didn't you tell me?" He asks.
"Because I know you. You would have gone on a rampage, smearing Nella's reputation across the entire solar system for this." Markus replies. "And none of us need that."
"Fine, but I'm doing my damnedest to make sure you get out of this alive." Henrik chuckles.
|
Hell-Kite
|
Wasphammer
|
2023-03-26 16:31:09
|
2023-03-26 15:31:35
| 751 | 92 |
jdrev87
|
jdr6iuh
|
122d3v5
|
122d3v5
|
[WP] You are not the child of a powerful ruler, neither do you behave in such a way as to command power. You have never been violent, nor even aggressive. Yet, wherever you go, people fear you and treat you like a monarch or an emperor. You never understood why, until today...
|
Your mother always told you that you were special. At age six, she withdrew you from public schools and opted to quit working to school you at home.
Years later, as a teenager, you didn’t understand why. Grateful, public schools had been hell. Teachers let you do whatever you wanted, which as a young child had seemed great, but you didn’t learn much either. Whenever you said you wanted to do something, they just let you. The other kids avoided you, except as in groups to bully you mercilessly.
It was a lonely childhood. Around age ten, you begged your parents to have another child so you’d have a sibling to play with. They merely shared a look, then both shaking their heads, “I’m sorry buddy, you’re the only one that can be.”
It didn’t make sense but they wouldn’t explain further. Years later, you learned you had been a twin, but only you had lived. Maybe they just didn’t want to risk something like that again. That seemed explanation enough.
You’d think life would be easy when no one wants to cross you, but honestly, it has made everything harder. Job interviews became an interesting dance, “what do you want? Please just tell us!”
“I just want a job. What do you mean?”
Eventually, I managed to get a warehouse job with minimal human interaction. It works out. People just act weird around me.
Today, at work, there was an accident. A crane dropped a pallet. On me.
As I was getting up and brushing myself off, it took me a few moments to understand why the rest of the workers had gathered and were staring aghast.
The pallet of cinder blocks lay shattered around me. But I suppose that isn’t the worst of it.
The ten foot flaming being, stinking of sulfur might have something to do with it. Why am I not freaked out by this?
“Your parents were careful. They took excellent care of you. We didn’t expect you to stay in the human world almost thirty years. It has caused…complications.”
For some reason…this is all making perfect sense.
“The way people…humans, the way the humans act around me, you mean. Like they don’t want to oppose me but also don’t want me around them?”
“Yes, they don’t understand why, but I think you do.”
With these words, the demon creature, although I understand now demon is a human term, bends to one knee.
“My lord, it is time to come home.”
|
I set foot outside of my apartment and immediately the first drops of rain starting falling as I heard soft thunder in the distance. Just my luck, why does this always happen. All I needed was something to eat for the night and maybe a six pack to calm my nerves. Just a five minute trip to the supermarket, how hard could it be, but I felt the anxiety claw its way up my throat. The rain certainly didn’t help.
As I stepped around the corner I almost ran into a woman covering her head with her purse. No wonder she couldn’t see me, not her fault. I should’ve taken more care taking the corner. She looked out from under the purse with darkened eyes, but the moment she met my mine she took a couple of awkward steps back like prey retreating from a predator. No, this wasn’t happening, not again. That fear in her eyes, something primal. My chest tightened. What was she afraid off, not her fault that she bumped into me. Even if it was, I wasn’t angry, I wasn’t even annoyed. Yet her trembling made me question my sanity, what did I miss, what did I do?
“I-I’m so sorry lord, I didn’t see you, please forgive me!” she sputtered with a croaking voice.
I inhaled as deep as I could and held it for a couple of seconds to steel my nerves.
“I’m the one who should apologize, really,” I said.
Expecting some sort of sign of relieve I was instead met by this person dropping to her knees. Casting her eyes down to the ground. Here I stood, at the corner of a nondescript street in the pouring rain with a lady I do not know on her knees like she was begging for her life. I the wrong person happened to run into us at this very moment this all would be very difficult to explain away. I stepped forward and grabbed the women by her shoulders, trying to pull her back on her feet. She instantly froze, every muscle in her body tightening as I touched her. I instinctively let go.
“Look, whatever this is, whatever I did. Just stand up and go on your way,” I said, almost pleading.
She scrambled up on her feet as fast as she could, water dripping down her legs. She nodded and without as much as looking at my face again stumbled past me down the street. I let out a sigh of relieve. Guilt formed a pit in my stomach, but what I felt guilty of I did not know. This would be another awkward conversation with my therapist again. I took the orange bottle of pills out of back pocket and popped one. I didn’t need this in my life, everyone always treated me like I was the plague itself. Ever since I was born, people seemed afraid of me. My own mother pleaded the nurse to just take me away as she couldn’t bare holding me. My father left that night, never to be heard of again.
Finally, the supermarket and no more awkward encounters. In the distance I could hear the faint sound of sirens. I prayed it wasn’t that lady. She wouldn’t be the first one to do something drastic after meeting me. I couldn’t take any more weight on my shoulders, I just wanted to buy some dinner. I stared through the glass door of the freezer, trying to decide what appealed to me. My focus shifted and before I noticed I was staring at my own reflection. Those bright red eyes, with golden arches. The same eyes that scared my mother to death, as she literally killed herself when I was five. Devil’s eyes she called them and in her last letter she had written how she had hoped I’d die if she starved me to death, only to find me in the crib chowing down on the pet cat. I don’t remember any of it. I couldn’t stomach the idea of hurting an animal, let alone eating it.
“Sir, would you mind?” said a voice behind me.
I snapped out of it and looked behind me. Meeting the gaze of this elder gentleman. I must’ve space out while watching myself. It took a couple of seconds for the man to register and he stumbled backwards. Grabbing his chest with his left hand, suddenly wheezing like he couldn’t catch his breath. That’s when I noticed that I was holding his arm. When did I grab a hold of that? He collapsed on the floor in front of me. Great, this was definitely going to cause another scene. I felt tears welling in the corners of my eyes. God, if you exist, please just take me. I can’t handle this anymore, I just want to be normal.
It took almost a minute before someone came running with one of those portable AEDs. The man slid in a hurry over the floor and came to a halt next to the man. That’s when he looked up to me and froze. I grabbed him by his shoulders, couldn’t he see that this man was dying? He instantly tightened under my grip, like that lady before did on the street. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and there he went, out cold.
The pattern, I had never noticed the pattern. I had grabbed the lady on the street and those sirens. I had grabbed the old man by his wrist, but hadn’t noticed and now this man. Whenever I touched someone they seemed to die. Suddenly everything clicked into place. That’s why I terrify everyone and that’s why death follows me. Or do I follow it?
​
[r/zeekoeswriting](https://www.reddit.com/r/zeekoeswriting)
|
Willowrosephoenix
|
zeekoes
|
2023-05-06 01:32:38
|
2023-05-06 00:43:35
| 811 | 227 |
jj1d1yj
|
jj176cm
|
1395im5
|
1395im5
|
[WP]You and your other co-workers have known for a while that something is impersonating your boss. But no one has bothered to say anything because under its leadership the workplace has become an enjoyable place. Today you’re training a new employee when they see the boss eating a delivery driver.
|
"What the-mmph!" The cry was cut short as a hand clamped around Colin's mouth.
"Be cool. Not a word, not a sound and I promise you'll be ok. I'll explain later, just...pretend everything is ok." Jake ordered from behind, slowly releasing him. Colin spun around violently, panic evident. He started to protest, but Jake just continued from exactly where he was in his health and safety brief. As if the supervisor hadn't just split into two, and swallowed the delivery driver whole.
Colin flinched and turned as he heard footsteps on the concrete behind him. There he was, in his orange hi-vis and badge, walking towards them as if nothing had happened. "Hi Robert, hows it hanging?" Jake said quickly, stepping in front of Colin. He was secretly glad of that- anything to put distance between him and it. " Hey Jake, its going great! Did ya see the Mets last weekend?"
The conversation went on for the longest few minutes of Colin's life. The worlds most cliche, robotic small talk between the two. Eventually 'Robert' walked off, seemingly having not noticed him. He released the breath he did know he'd been holding.
"There, what did I say... you're ok." Jake said, patting Colin on the back. "Let's head to the break room. I'm sure you have questions."
"Questions! He just ATE SOMEONE. WITH HIS WHOLE BODY."
"Yeah.... freaked me out too the first time. Look, the driver is fine. He's...not normal either. He'll be back in an hour or so, refilling his truck. Can you let go of the shelf, and come with me to the break room? You're gonna want a coffee. Or 6." Jake smiled nervously. Colin eyed him suspiciously but nodded and followed
Once in the break room, Jake poured two coffees and pushed one towards Colin. "Milk and sugar is over there." He pointed to the counter "Come take a seat and we'll talk about Robert and truck 13."
---
I gotta stop here but I'll be back later.
|
[Part 1 of 2]
Everyone knew Richard was dead. The creature thought it was so clever, burying his half-eaten body in the office bonsai plant, not realizing that a few drops of dirt didn’t cover up all the blood and body parts. At first, we stayed silent, mainly out of fear. Sure, we could have called for help, but no one wanted to be the one that made the call, not with our blood drenched boss now shuffling through the halls. The monster standing over our shoulders as if he was trying to understand the strange symbols on our computers.
Yes, the creature not only ate our boss, he also somehow shifted his body to impersonate our boss too. Only difference was, the creature didn’t understand human decency, walking around covered in Richard’s blood, giving mumbled attempts at English words before moving behind someone, drooling on their shoulder as he watched them. The creature’s legs twisted, making it hobble around the office, constantly staring at whatever caught its interest.
So, we sent out a mass email. Everyone would act normal and then, when we left work at our usual times, we would explain the situation to the police. It was simple enough and appeared to be working. The creature didn’t seem to hunger for us, merely curious about what we were doing. When it got to the end of our workday, I was the first to get up from my seat. Even a cosmic horror wouldn’t stop me from leaving on time. I refused to do free overtime, even in this situation.
When he saw me get up, his jaw unhinged, pointing a bent finger at me as he shuffled forward. I was frozen, unable to even scream. I expected to end up in that bonsai tree too, only for the fake Richard’s hand to hit my shoulder. The creature did its best to give me a fake smile, its head turning upside down to pull off the emotion.
“Good. Good. Good. Good. Like Money? Yes? Money?” It said, bouncing on its twisted legs.
“Like money? Sir, I-I don’t.”
“Want money? You want money? Happy?”
“I…I would love money? Yes?”
The fake Richards nodded as he moved over to Annie from accounting. He leaned over her shoulder, squinting at the excel sheet, trying to understand the money symbols. He then turned back to me.
“Name.”
“Um, I’m Stan, sir.”
“Stan. Stan money big!”
Poor Annie was shaking as she added a small bonus to my salary. One that the old Richard may have approved of. In her head, she was still operating under the old Richard, not the new one. She showed him the number, only to jump as he screamed into her ear.
“MONEY BIG. NOT SMALL!”
“Sorry, sir.” She added a few more thousands until I was on over 100k. When the number hit that sweet 100k, the creature backed away.
“Everyone big money. We deserve. Love family, have money, we all may dead soon.” The creature then let out a long laugh, one that made everyone shiver, considering it came from the monster that had just eaten half of our boss.
When we left for the day, we watched fake Richard through the window, watching as he chased a cockroach around the office, squeezing his body into a small crack in the wall that the cockroach had escaped into, somehow making himself into a putty of sorts. We all agreed to tell the police the news until I brought up a good point.
“Shouldn’t we wait until the upgraded pay goes through? Richard’s sons a bit of an ass.”
Everyone agreed that Richard’s son was an ass, perhaps an even bigger one than Richard himself. If he took over, we would never get a payrise like this again. If we waited a few more days for the payment updates to get finalized, we could get the best of both worlds. We would turn the monster in and get to keep our money. Although we might have to get it in writing.
The next few days, we got our new contracts written up. These contracts being quickly approved by the new Richard. Not only did we get that, but our workdays were also reduced by three hours, we also got thirty additional days off and a ton of health benefits. It was better than life could have ever been under the old Richard.
Soon most of us forgot about going to the police. While some still argued that we should, their paid holidays dissuaded them from ever speaking up. Why ruin a paid trip to France because of a little monster problem? Honestly, most of the time we forgot he was even a monster, going into his strange business meetings without giving it much thought.
Unfortunately, today was not one of those days.
[Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/137l41e/wpyou_and_your_other_coworkers_have_known_for_a/jiue51u/)
|
eternal8phoenix
|
sadnesslaughs
|
2023-05-04 16:26:48
|
2023-05-04 15:49:44
| 452 | 173 |
jiujsym
|
jiue2w4
|
137l41e
|
137l41e
|
[WP] Humans are the proverbial "Sleeping Giant," and thus make remarkably good deterrents. A common tactic of the Galactic Federation is to simply call in a human warship, such as the USS "Fuck Around and, FindOut," and simply let it sit nearby. Peace Talks happen within the week.
|
The Bentari were one of the newest additions to the Galactic Federation. Welcomed with open arms as they finally achieved the capability of interstellar travel and deep space communication
They were leery though, their nearest neighboring system was occupied by an independent species.
Humans
The Bentari people had, like any species, ghost stories and imagined monsters, but to their observation, these humans were the real thing. Millennia of infighting, another of barbaric space expansion.
And they were scant light years from their own border, between them and their new found allies.
Their collective hearts sank as they observed over the last few decades the expansion of human colonies into the uninhabited region between them.
Worse than this, the Clarixi had returned to the borders on the other side of their system. If humans were monsters, the Clarixi were what monsters would call monsters.
A murderous hive mind species with a voracious appetite for expansion. Insectoid in appearance, with an internal caste structure that consisted of horrific variations of nightmare.
Their ancestors had driven them back with terrible weapons before, but since the Bentari had evolved away from any semblance of violence, they were defenseless
Stuck now before the encroaching swarm, and the fires of human colonization.
A Bentari watch station at the heart of their system becomes lively, they've been hard at work translating unencrypted human broadcasts they had intercepted, hoping to find an evacuation route to a safe place to flee.
They've all been the same message, and they finally have their answer;
"This is Terran Marine Expeditionary command ship FAFO, we've been informed of hostile forces on your outward borders by the Galactic Federation, We're sending aid as fast as humanly possible. We mean no harm to your people. Please respond"
|
Humanity had a destiny.
Or so we thought. Since the first fire was shared between one of our ancient plains dwelling ancestors and another. Our species slowly, generation after generation, became more capable of selflessness.
It had many labels throughout the centuries, from goodness to godliness. It's core ideology was framed sometime in the 1900th as Communism. So unspoken up until that point and so poorly executed in its attempted practice, that it caused the flames of unity to darken for nearly a thousand years.
Yet it lived on with new names, its core ideals still a part of every member of the species core potential.
Through the many, many generations mankind warred against itself. Man killed Man, brother slayed brother, children and women and all those in between. Race and gender, location and dialects. All created within mankind fear of the unknown and distrust. In our fear we lashed out in violence. In our ignorance of one another we came to blows. Time and time again mankind blew upon the fire of unity with an unrelenting force, that should in truth, in our arrogance, have led to complete and total destruction of our species.
We became masters of death and destruction. Warlords and Generals. Like rotting wood within the flames, it tainted the purity of the flame of unity, even as it tried to snuff it out.
Some men were sick with the taint of it. Broken inside, twisted by cold and though it is our shame, we accept those terrors as part of us. Or histories and hard learned lessons.
Our bloody path to unity.
And yet, each generation crawled forwards. Each cycle of youths, could see flaws in their elders and make effort to alter. And their progeny likewise. And so it was that the flames of unity survived. Within the hope for something better.
Until it was, that a generation rose that saw the path behind and knew instinctively the path ahead. They did not hold power as their elders. And not wanting to take on the selfish traits of their predecessors they waited and planned. Knowing that any alternative was selfishness they began to preach their message. They had only spread word of the future to their peers and the next generations. They had watched their predecessors build great masterworks of efficiency and productivity in the pursuit of coin. And they saw that it was necessary. For without both, the people could not be united. Without the pursuit of gold of their fathers and forefathers, they would not have been able to do what was done.
It did not come in a great war or battle. Men did not scream and wail at its arrival. For they knew it was generational and each parent and child, teacher and student, passed forward the ideals. Slowly, painstakingly and then it was. We had reached what we believed to be our destiny.
And then, we were finally accepted outside of our little planet. it was not until the full unity of mankind that we were contacted by the Galactic federation. The many peoples of the stars of the milky way galaxy. Thousands of worlds, all functioning within independent versions of their species unity.
But from our history, we could not hide. For they had watched us in horror. Mankind, the true, black sheep of the entire galaxy. The only species to not hold unity at its conception.
While we killed our brothers, other species could not comprehend hatred of their own. And so had not come to arms until they had walked the stars alongside other people's and systems.
Where mankind had forged itself outside of unification, we walked the stars as a terror of unspeakable potential for death. Yet we sought unity among the stars, like we had with all our own nations and peoples and even the non-sapient creatures and plant life of our world.
We were first contacted by the Galactic federation warmly. The greatest minds of the milky way, finally agreeing that we as a species had reached the common ground required to parlay. And offered a position to join, if we accepted a given role to play within our new community.
Watch dogs and protectors, those who all other species feared for their unity forged not born. Some believed us the wisest, others the most foolish. But all held fear of mankind's history and potential for that which no other in the Galaxy understood. We began to believe that just maybe, our destiny was greater still? That we could be the ones to bring unity to the stars.
Until an archeologist student found a bone. Until it was passed on to a geneticist. Until mankind quietly discovered..
**the betrayal of the makers**
|
Mercerskye
|
Ihavebadreddit
|
2023-03-07 04:48:15
|
2023-03-07 04:30:15
| 54 | 35 |
jb8d6gm
|
jb8b9zt
|
11keke0
|
11keke0
|
[WP] The Elven Kingdoms call their old allies the Humans for aid. Expecting medieval armies, they get a modern 21st century one instead.
|
"I was shocked to learn you could forge a bond with your dragon companion in the lifespan of a human." said Llevenine, her head bowed down in a sign of respect.
"After all, I've known Ssirika ever since she hatched, and it took over two hundred years of hardships and determination to build our rapport. Even now, I can't say we don't have our moments of incomprehension now and then. But your dragon responds to your commands perfectly. It shields you from all harm, flies you higher and faster than an eagle, and launches bolts of fire that decimate your enemies at your every beck and call. What did you say its name was again?"
"F-16 Fighting Falcon", Anthony Greyman replied. "But don't belittle yourself. Your dragons are just as popular as ours in my world, if not even more. I've never met a child who didn't wish to ride one at some point"
|
"Test 28-1-AGJ-4, commencing!"
The Gateway was an inter-dimensional portal opened during the Roman times, which closed for unknown reasons. We finally knew why the Roman Empire had spontaneously started to collapse.
As the rig in the centre of the field started to spin up, the inside started to glow. Electricity flowed through wires, taking energy from a fusion/fission reactor built not too far away. We'd discovered the ruins of the Portal in 2048 in the height of World War 3, and now, in 2057, a unified Humanity was crawling closer to forcefully opening the portal from our side.
# KABOOM!
The rig exploded into fly pieces of shrapnel that bounced off the blast shielding in front of me, I sighed. "Clear 28-1-AGJ-4," I called out over the site's PA, "Next test, 28-4-AA!"
Technicians ran over to clear the debris as more began to pull another rig into the field. For some reason, this field was the only one where most of these experiments even powered up. As 28-4-AA was being secured to the ground, something else happened.
In a circle around the stone ruins at the center of the field, runes appeared. Latin runes. Our translators got to work quickly.
**Help invasion demons daemons need military humans help**
I swore to myself. "This is Site Director George Unoid, Quantum Team Inter-Dimensional Research Site One is entering a code orange, I repeat that is a code orange. Test 28-4-AA is not cleared to commence." I entered into the PA, before joining the ring of scientists circling the field looking for what was about to happen.
**Portal portal portal portal portal go away come help help army dead**
In the middle, a shimmering white dot appeared, before quickly growing to the size of a house. Runes covered the edges, and inside, we could see a medieval-looking city.
At that time, some other researchers had finished briefing the military detachment from the TFSU, who had arrived a few minutes prior.
"Site Director Unoid, what did you- Oh. They weren't joking." The squad leader said, looking at the field, before back at their helicopter. "I'm going to call a Red here."
"Red! Are you nuts?" I asked, shocked.
"Buddy," The squad leader explained, "we just made inter-dimensional contact, and they're going on about the military. The last time they were here was two millennia ago; they're probably expecting to contact the Roman Empire. We need the Electorate on the line, live."
I sighed. Legally, I couldn't stop him from calling a Code Red if I wanted to. Which I did; nobody wants a Code Red on their record, or even being close to one in real-time; the whole definition was that the scenario was very dangerous.
More soldiers were dispatched, and we waited, staring into the portal. On the other side, more people stared back at us, each entranced by the other. As more helicopters landed, and Electorate Kala rushed out of one to see the portal, the people on the other side gestured for us to come to their side.
Alpha Squad moved up. I watched as the portal swallowed them. Not four seconds later, the sound of a war became audible from their side.
Behind me, SWAT teams rushed up from the closest city. Beside me, researchers and the leader of Humanity both stood mouths agape at the sight we saw. And in front of us, enough known laws of physics were breaking for me to reconsider my career.
\-----
**(1/?) More at lunch.**
[https://www.reddit.com/r/redditserials/comments/1250of8/portal\_chapter\_1/](https://www.reddit.com/r/redditserials/comments/1250of8/portal_chapter_1/)
|
Zorothegallade
|
Nomyad777
|
2023-03-27 12:09:10
|
2023-03-27 12:04:35
| 935 | 353 |
jduzo1j
|
jduz725
|
123gamg
|
123gamg
|
[WP] Instead of being a super villain like your parents, you ended up joining a company. Now your wildly successful and quite frankly much more closer to world domination than your parents. Your parents can't handle it.
|
I remember how pissed they’d been when I signed up with Denver Medical. Don’t get me wrong, flying around in a supersuit, plotting fiendinsh schemes and sinister plots had been fun… but then I grew up. It was too late for my parents, they were in too deep. They still claimed it was about world domination, but these days it had become personal. Less about taking over the planet and more about beating the heroes, the ones who’d been kicking their asses for the last 30 years. I couldn’t afford to fall into that rut, the never ending cycle of scheme, fight, lose, rinse and repeat. I wanted more!
Now don’t get me wrong, I am my parent’s daughter. I want it all, power, prestige, wealth, the whole shebang. Just not their way. When Denver Medical came knocking, I knew it was where I belonged. No relations with supervillains, no pacts with eldritch gods. It wasn’t a cult, shell corporation, criminal front. It didn’t deal in magic, superscience, cosmic forces or meta-humans. It dealt in medicines and vaccines. For back-pain and headaches, intches and colds. It was simple. Legal. Lucrative. Unbelievably so.
We weren’t angels of course. There was the lobbying, purchasing politicians and policy. After all, why pay an American a living wage when you can pay some poverty-stricken third-worlder half as much for twice as much? The world was ripe for picking, and I was there for it.
I moved up pretty fast, and my parents didn’t like it. When I made upper management, my parents tried to buy out the company. Fortunately, before the deal could take place, the alien invasion they were funding fell through and they had to go into hiding. When I got promoted to VP, they tried to run Denver Med out of business by establishing a competitor. It was working… for half a year, when the heroes took down the genetically mutated flesh pods that made their product. When the dust settled, they were imprisoned on the Isle, their company was in tatters, I had just made CEO, and we had just jacked up our insulin prices again.
This was power, true power, that I held in my hands. Money, connection, influence, the very things my parents had sneered at as they built their death rays and monster armies. Now while they were rotting away on some hocus-pocus covered island, I was sitting in one of the biggest buildings in Primapolis. Sure all three of the bigger buildings were owned by or affiliated with superheroes, but being bothered by that was exactly why my parents had lost, and I had won.
“Do you understand that? While you freaks run around in your costumes, I win. I’ll take over the world, without anyone ever noticing, since they’re too busy looking at you. So now put that gun away, take off that mask, and maybe we can talk about you working for me.”
|
"Hey, Dmitri, we're gonna hit up the Cigar bar tonight after work. You down?", a colleague asked.
"Sorry man, I've got dinner with my parents tonight.", he lamented.
"Alright, see you tomorrow then."
"Yeah."
Dmitri hoped the terse response wasn't perceived as too rude, but his friends at work already had a good idea of his relationship with his parents. To most people, they were known as Boris and Lara Strelnikoff. But to a select few they were the merciless villains, *Plague and Disorder,* genius criminals who'd made multiple attempts to cause wanton destruction and terror with the aim of global domination. They were notorious for managing to keep themselves from dying or going to prison for decades. Despite this impressive feat, their most crucial plots had always managed to be foiled by superheroes or authorities. The Strelnikoffs were good at compartmentalizing their work and home lives, but these recurring career setbacks started to leak into how they raised their son
Dmitri exited the company garage as the street lights slowly turned themselves on. Thinking of home, his mind went back to his childhood. He had a normal happy one for the most part. But it was around when we turned 12 that his parents had returned home with torn up costumes, singed hair, and sooty faces. He didn't ask what happened, but later that night he was kept awake by the sound of their arguing.
"That blasted Cat-Man once again sticking his dirty paws in our business!" his father snarled through clenched teeth. "I'll bury him alive for this."
"I hope you do eventually,"replied mother. "Because it seems you did everything to allow him to escape."
Boris exploded, "And what is that supposed to mean?!"
She rolled her eyes derisively,"You put one person to guard him and you didn't even have him restrained or incapacitated. We were THIS close to blowing up Congress, Boris. But how many times have we overlooked something that bit us in the--"
"Ok, I'll own that. But you always spend the most crucial parts of our plans drinking champagne and boasting arrogantly about our imminent success. If I recall correctly, you gave Cat-Man the entire playbook!" Boris by now was red-faced and spitting and young Dmitri peeked timidly from the door of his room at this display...
Eventually, his parents started placing their hopes and dreams on Dmitri. He realized this as they pressured him to attend League of Injustice meetings in the hopes of getting a recommendation to a villain University. Lara wanted her son to be an evil doctor, and she even sewed a lab coat for him. Meanwhile, his parents schemes to cause an asteroid collision, a worldwide currency inflation, and a worldwide mutant chicken pox virus all failed. They weren't getting younger, and their dreams of world domination were getting farther and farther away.
Then Dmitri dropped a bomb on them, figuratively. "I'm going to business school. I'd like to get involved in a tech startup." His parents protested, then threatened, then pleaded with him to reconsider. Finally, they accepted begrudgingly. The relationship had inevitably strained. But Dmitri was too focused on his studies and then his career. He and his partners had recently gone public with a new social media app valued in billions. As if that wasn't enough, he had also gained an executive position at the top investment bank in the country.
He arrived and knocked on the door. His father opened up, "I'm surprised you felt the need to knock, Mr. big shot. Welcome home then. Lara! Your son is here!"
Her voice rang out from inside. "Yay! The food is almost ready, You all go take a seat at the table."
This already felt like it'd be a long evening for Dmitri, and he braced himself for it.
"I made your favorite, darling: Borscht and Chicken Tenders." his mother smiled warmly.
"Thank you mother." replied Dmitri. He didn't have the heart to say it wasn't his favorite any longer since the past 20 years.
The meal was quiet, with polite conversation. Dmitri listened as his father complained about henchman unions on strike and how the price of nerve gas had risen tremendously. But his sneaking suspicions were made true shortly after dessert.
"And you, Dmitri, you've done pretty well for yourself I must say." stated Boris.
"Thank you, Dad. I guess I've just been lucky." shrugged Dmitri.
"Luck, nonsense. Destiny." his fathers eyes gleamed oddly. Lara looked on proudly at her son, unbothered by the obvious change in her husbands demeanor.
"Uh...destiny?"
"Yes. You've put yourself in control of billions of dollars in assets. You have direct authority to manipulate a network of millions of users worldwide. Dmitri, you are closer than we've ever been to finally making that leap to the top." Boris replied in rising excitement.
Dmitri shook his head and was about to respond, but his father cut him off.
"We will destroy industry, influence the masses, and raise an army to conquer the superpowers of the world! I'll make a top notch virus, and your mother can start some natural disasters. It'll be childs play, son."
Dmitri was at a loss, but he decided he preferred to kick the can down the road as opposed to a direct confrontation now. "That sounds interesting, dad. We can talk about that later though. I've got some pictures that mom wants to see." His mother squealed in delight, while Boris looked deflated yet hope in his eyes.
The End
|
CynicalChronicles
|
Young-Roshi
|
2023-06-10 17:57:41
|
2023-06-10 17:07:44
| 442 | 64 |
jnolwfp
|
jnof1tk
|
1461yc6
|
1461yc6
|
[WP] A hero's work never ends. You became a litch out of necessity. The next hero would not be summoned for another thousand years and you were old. You planned to stay around long enough to pass the safety of the world on to the next.
|
*"Why do I still train?"* A sword slashes through the air with perfect form in a lightning-fast combination of moves. Untrained hands would be sluggish and flail about, and even the hands of a master would have difficulty mimicking the eternity of practice guiding this ancient palm. What was left of it anyway. Another slash, ever so slightly more firm. *"I train so that when the next hero learns from me he will have no bad habits to pick up, and I will be able to spot any imperfections."*
The skeletal hand pauses, and lowers the battered sword until the tip glides over the earth. The ringing of mail and shifting plate armor sounds out as the warrior takes in his surroundings. Fog thick enough to obscure the ground he stands on, and the misty outline of trees at the edge of the field he stands in, the same for a castle in the distance. He barely even thinks *"What if the next hero never comes?"* before the idea is squashed firmly.
*"There is always evil, and a hero filled with courage is always chosen. Such was my beginning, and it will happen to another."* Shoulders of bone and nothing else roll back, and the hero begins another cycle of training. *"You chose this. You knew you would be the best example for the hero to learn from. Your skills will be needed, so they cannot be rusty even if your armor and sword are. You chose this."* The sword strikes become faster.
*"You chose this."* The grip of dead hands tightens on a sword and shield.
*"You chose this."* The sword is swinging through the air fast enough for it to whistle.
*"You chose this."* Armored boots stomp the unseen ground as the warrior kills foes that are not there, blocks strikes which never land, and slowly loses himself to movement and memory. The life of fighting he lived, the family he supported, the rest he denied himself at the end, the evil he had slain but could never vanquish from the world.
The sword is buried into stone with a sound akin to the sound of a bell slamming into a cobblestone street. The hero does not move for a frozen moment that stretches into minutes.
*"You chose this."* He tells himself, tone as dead as his flesh.
A new sound has him whipping his horned helmet to the source. A man approaches, with a familiar face: pointed ears, blonde hair, and blue eyes with steel and fire behind them. The green clothes also strike a chord, and the ancient hero remembers that he once wore something like that as well. But this is only a fledgling warrior, untempered. On seeing him, the would-be hero charges in a headstrong fashion and executes a serviceable jumping slash with some serious weight behind it.
*Sloppy,* is the only way the hero can describe it as he easily blocks the overhead swing and immediately counters with his ancient steel, knocking the warrior in green onto his back.
*"A sword wields no strength unless the hand that holds it has courage,"* he lectures, shocking the young man at his speech and tutoring. He has his work cut out for him, but he'll turn this whelp into a proper knight in no time.
|
“I’m sorry, hero. I truly am sorry for the state of the world we have pulled you into.” Jaxal’s voice floated through the air as the robed hero stepped out of the summoning circle. The once great hall of summoning was now a broken mess of rubble and stone. The decorated ceiling, once adorned with paintings of the great heroes, had collapsed, leaving their faces shattered on the floor.
“What happened?” The heroes’ words were soft, struggling to make sense of the surrounding scenery. This was their first sight, and it was a horrifying one. The hero didn’t leave the summoning circle, not daring to step over the ruby gemstone beneath their feet.
“I failed us all, hero. I wanted to keep the world safe, but my body was close to its end. I could feel it. The aches of my previous battles were all catching up with me, making it hard for me to move even an inch of my body. The doctors here planned for my passing. They even arranged a festival to be held in my honor. The festival was meant to be the last thing I ever witnessed. A way of remembering all my deeds, but I had other plans. The world needed my protection, so I became a lich. I turned myself into the type of monster that we often slay.”
The hero gasped, covering their mouth. Slowly, the situation made sense. The robed hero sliding off their hood, revealing long brown curls. She carefully examined the surrounding area before speaking.
“You did this.”
“I did. I’m sorry hero.”
“Stop apologizing for this and tell me how to fix it. I’m the hero now. Come out and show yourself.” Her hands flashed with a spark of yellow energy. The energy swirling towards her palms, readying an attack as soon as Jaxal revealed himself.
“Fix it? You can’t bring back those I killed.” The somber voice appeared to be behind her, causing the hero to spin on her heel, pointing a palm forward, only to see the state of Jaxal. The energy fading from her palms when she saw him.
The once noble hero now merged with a statue. If it wasn’t for the slight pieces of skin sitting on the marble statue, she wouldn’t have even known it was him. Hesitantly, she stepped forward, placing a hand on his cheek, her thumb running over the small piece of flesh.
“So, this is what became of my predecessor? What a horrible mess. What happened when you became a lich?”
“As soon as I turned, I felt myself losing control of my body. Someone was waiting in the shadows, sensing their opportunity. When they noticed the dark energy dripping off me, they took advantage of it.”
“So, you became their puppet?”
“Sadly, yes. I turned on those around me, slashing through them as confusion took over the great hall. As I attacked, so did the beasts. Monsters crashing through the ceiling and doors, storming the hall. The only thing I could do to help was to try to gain some control back over my body. When I wrestled some power back from the person, I bonded myself to this statue. I hoped that with one less person to fight, they could overcome the beasts. Unfortunately, all I did was make it so I had to watch every last one of them die.” Jaxal’s eyes darted down to the floor, not daring to look at the hero. “I’m-“
“Yeah, sorry. I know. Sorry, doesn’t fix this mess. Is there anyone here that can help me? Someone preferably that isn’t dead or a statue.” The hero pushed through the rubble, only finding skeletons and dead beasts. The beasts not decaying like their human counterparts, still showing wounds from the battle.
“I wouldn’t know. It’s been so long since the battle happened. You would be looking for heirs. Sons and daughters of the great people that aided the summoning hall.”
“Well, where do I find them? Any records? Books? Come on, don’t stay there feeling sorry for yourself. The longer you mope, the more people die.” She gave the statue a tap on its cheek, trying to get Jaxal to focus.
“You’re right. I can’t undo my past, but I can try to make the future better. We have a catacomb underground. We hide records in the skeletons.”
“In the skeletons?” The hero said, a hint of disgust on her face.
“Not many people think to look inside a dead body. If you keep a robe over their skeletal form, most things remain hidden.”
“Fine. It’s still gross, if you ask me. I get it though. So, look for a book and find some help. Sure.” She turned to leave, only for Jaxal to stop her.
“What is your name, hero?”
“Jacky Marlow. If my memories serve me well, I’m guessing you would be Jaxal. I don’t know a lot about you. I only heard that name mentioned before I arrived. Everything’s still a blur.”
“I will be a blur for a while, hero. You’re still new to this world. If I may ask a favor. When you defeat whatever evil threatens the earth, will you come back and remove me from this world?” Jaxal asked, feeling guilty about putting a burden like that on the hero.
“If I survive, I will. Although, that’s not very heroic of you. If you’re still alive, make yourself useful. What’s the point of being a lich if you aren’t going to use your extended life?” With that, Jacky made her way into the back area of the summoning hall, trying to find the stairs in the mess of debris.
“It’s behind a fireplace. You need to crawl through it.”
“Of course I do.” She groaned, crouching by the fireplace and crawling her way through it. When she reached the other side, she almost fell down the staircase. Only realizing it was there when her hand touched the edge. Carefully, she crawled down the stairs, beginning her journey. The hero leaving Jaxal to ponder if he had anything left to offer.
(If you enjoyed this feel free to check out my subreddit /r/Sadnesslaughs where I'll be posting more of my writing.)
|
Jyx_The_Berzer_King
|
sadnesslaughs
|
2023-07-25 11:06:17
|
2023-07-25 07:20:23
| 17 | 10 |
jtdb9hp
|
jtcts1l
|
158s14x
|
158s14x
|
[WP] The knight grasped the blade in his hands tightly. The roar of dragons hot on his heels as he ran. "You know, when they told me to save the princess of swords from the dragon's castle. I expected an actual princess and one dragon." "Oh shut up" replied the sword.
|
Roger’s sword was inches away from the warlock’s gut when reality itself trembled.
Everything distorted and images flashed across his vision of his travels this far, but from the perspective of an outsider looking in.
He had confronted and nearly beaten the warlock all alone, but his journey hadn’t started that way.
They’d set out as a party of four.
The Four Chosen.
A selection of skilled adventurers chosen for their respective skills.
A journey that began with small skirmishes, fireside gatherings, and friendly conversation.
Those things don’t last.
-----
His face bloody, the leather-clad man flashed a smile missing several teeth.
Vince’s brown hair was plastered against his skin, held down by dirt, mud, and blood.
After a deep breath, the man swallowed and hung from a nearby lever with his full weight.
The lever pulsed with blue light as it recognized the innate mana of the rogue, then allowed itself to be pulled down.
Accompanied with a rattle of iron chains, the portcullis opened on the far end of the room.
Somebody had to stay behind to open the way.
It was a good thing Vince cared for Vivian as much as he did, Roger might not have been able to convince him otherwise.
The state of Vince’s face was the result of a brief discussion.
His broken leg simple insurance.
Hero Roger, sorceress Vivian, and the priestess Mia fled the dungeon.
There won’t be any more dungeons after this, the rogue’s expertise is no longer needed.
The warlock’s minions had spread over the realm like a great wave.
Hundreds die every day while evil is allowed to remain.
The Hero must not linger. There is no time to explore the massive dungeon for a different way out.
Vince knew what he was getting into, but needed some help with his final conviction.
The realm would remember him a legend.
-----
Agonizing heat closed in on the both of them, the sorceress Vivian trembled at the Hero’s side.
The dragon’s fire would be upon them in seconds. There was only one thing left for Roger to do, there was no need for them both to die.
One big shove with his heroic strength would be enough to get Vivian away from the worst of it, her defensive wards would see her safe.
Roger grabbed firm hold of Vivian and with great strength flung her towards the flame.
Her death wasn’t instant, powerful defensive wards on her robes held the flame at bay for a time.
Screeching, Vivian’s skin blistered, burned, and then blackened as the wards slowly gave out.
She fell to the ground as a lifeless corpse after serving her purpose, parting the dragon’s breath like a stone amidst a raging river.
In this realm of might and magic, things like wizards, witches, and sorcerers are a dime a dozen.
She is easily replaced. The chosen hero is unique.
There is only one.
Only he can face the ultimate evil.
-------
Click. The manacles locked in place, a blood-red magic circle pulsed on the priestess’s tear-stained cheek.
Mia’s religion wasn’t just unpopular in this region of the realm, it was downright illegal.
They’d be hunted down or assassinated. Not even the hero survives a slit throat.
Unfortunately it sits beside a mountain range that holds the quickest path to their destination, they had to risk it.
If they would be forced to part ways regardless, then Roger was determined to do it on his own terms.
“Your payment, m’lord,” said the guard, handing over a fat purse of gold.
The skin around the knuckles of his swollen fingers was torn from dealing with heretics.
Roger nodded. This should finance the remainder of his journey.
Gods were real, so even if she was due to be executed, the priestess would end up in the company of the god she had devoted her life to.
This is the best for the both of them.
-----------
Roger blinked. The blinked again as the strange magic faded and he was eased back into the present.
One eye swollen shut, the warlock smirked as he awaited the inevitable breakdown.
His smirk faded when he gasped as the sword entered his gut.
“The realm is saved,” said Roger as he watched the life fade from the warlock’s eyes.
|
I stand laced with exhaustion. Wet, cold air presses in on me, stagnant and still.
​
Her angular face and quick brown eyes look at me. She is on her side, on the cave floor, clutching a wound around her ribs. It doesn't seem fatal, but it's enough to incapacitate her. Her magic staff is across the cave, close to a black puddle. I lift my left arm. I can barely call it an arm anymore. It's longer, and in many places, what was once flesh is black obsidian. A light pulses from the inside, making the obsidian seem to move and sway like an ocean.
​
For a while, it is quiet, spare for our panting and water dripping down from stalactites. Then she speaks.
​
"You call me evil for stealing your precious map, yet you yourself are just as bad." She's right, in a way.
​
"You're not going to get under my skin. Now are you going to surrender, or are you going to die?" I ask. She looks at my obsidian arm, covered in our sweat and her blood. Fear fleets across her face but she tries to hide it. She doesn't answer my question.
​
"Don't you want to be a hero? Didn't you used to want to save the world? All your types from the other world seem to." I step closer. She starts to do something with her hands.
​
"There isn't any good. There's just suffering, and slightly less suffering. And what do you know about 'my types?'" I ask. She reaches for her red pendant. She sees me looking. Before I can react, she crushes it in her hand, and throws the powder inside at me. I yelp and jump back, but not before it got into my eyes, nose, and mouth. I cough and desperately start rubbing. She likes to fight dirty like that. And with her life or freedom at stake, I can't blame her. I would do the same.
​
"you goddamn-" I stop mid-sentence. I expected Lavinia to have thrown sand or pepper, to temporarily blind me and try to crawl away. But when I open my eyes, there is no burning or pain. Instead I see myself looking in the mirror of my new room in Zandell's tower when I was 13 years old.
​
I grew up in New York, and one day I found a locked box on the floor of a subway. It was mahogany and smelled like a wet horse. But for some reason, I picked it up. I took it home. And I unlocked it.
​
The box was an elaborate puzzle. Where the mahogany wood had worn or chipped away, delicate, iridescent gears inscribed with unrecognizable runes were visible underneath. A small keypad with hieroglyphs perched at the top. I wish I could say how I used my genius intellect to solve the puzzle, and I wish I could say I watched the box gracefully whirr and unwind, but no. I borrowed Uncle Vinny's crowbar and whacked and pried it open. Inside was a black ring with an amber stone. It looked like the eye of a black cat, or a monster. When I slid it on and twisted the stone, I went to another world. And there I found Zandell the Great.
​
I spawned in his library, where red velvet couches lounged among musty books. A fireplace illuminated a deep orange desk, and the wizard sitting on it. Zandell the Great welcomed me, and gave me my position as his apprentice in exchange for returning the ring to him. "After all," he said, "if you were skilled enough to unlock the box, you are skilled enough to be my apprentice."
​
He lead me down grand marble halls full of the light of two suns to what used to be his guest room. And I saw myself looking in the full length mirror. Greasy green sweatshirt, round face splattered with acne, and eyes full of wonder. I thought it would be just like the story books I read, where I would be able to slay dragons, and find a wonderful princess (or prince, I sail whichever way the wind blows) to take back home and have a happy ever after with.
​
But Zandell wasn't so great. He refused to return the ring. I became a pig and he became the rider with a fishing rod and a carrot, leading me ahead to nowhere. I did the work he didn't want to do, I saved the villages from griffins in heat, put out the fires juvenile dragons set, and so much more. But it was never enough. So many times, I heard "You can get the ring back and see your family again after this". It became a mantra.
​
Then it was revealed that the goblet of desire, an ancient artifact long thought to be destroyed, wasn't. It was hidden somewhere. And the things I had to do to get clues where to find it were horrible.
​
When did I realize he was never going to give the ring back? That I was never going to see my family again? Was that when I lost my grip? Decided it didn't matter anymore?
​
When did I cross the line from fainting at the sight of blood, to plunging a dagger into someone's neck? From cupping a spider in my hand and bringing it outside, to shoving my bear hand into the chest cavity of a decaying titan, then cutting open its reeking, moldy heart to find an ancient map? How did I come from wanting to be a pacifist, to transforming my left arm into an obsidian weapon? There was a time I used to think that, with the right attitude and the power of friendship, I could do anything.
​
I looked at her on the cave floor. Her wide eyes and blank face. She is scared. Scared I will kill her. Scared I will capture her and force information out of her. I've threatened to, multiple times, but I wouldn't. Torture is still a line I will not cross. I'm not sure how much longer that line will last, looking at how far I've come.
​
I look at her and think about all I've done. All I've lost. And I decide to cross that line.
​
I reach my normal arm towards her. Maybe little me was right. Maybe with the right attitude and the power of friendship, I \*can\* fix things.
​
"Here, let me help you." I say. Slowly, gingerly, she gets up. She has a certain look on her face. I am guessing she wants to know if her powder trick worked. I feel a certain bleakness inside of me gone.
​
"And now, do you want to help me?" I ask. She still looks unsure.
​
"A-Alright."
​
"There's a certain wizard in a faraway tower. He has something that's almost as valuable as the goblet of desire. Will you help me get it?" I ask. Her eyes light up and I know the answer. I offer her my support, and she leans on me as we make our way out of the cave.
​
Zandell, you have manipulated me. You told me you would do great things with the goblet of desire, but I know now you would use it for your own selfish gain. You have taken away my family and my innocence, exploiting me for years. And while you sat at your desk, becoming unpracticed, old, and fat, I traveled the world, constantly hardening and sharpening myself. Getting stronger, faster, and more ruthless, doing your work for you while your beady eyes plead, "just one more task", "just a little more time." And now, I'm going to take my time with you. You have made an angel twist its halo into horns. Be prepared to reap what you sow.
|
WriterHorrible
|
Thunderingthought
|
2023-05-19 20:14:43
|
2023-05-19 20:02:11
| 23 | 15 |
jktghb1
|
jktekzt
|
13lvd57
|
13lvd57
|
[WP] You managed to retire from the supervillain game long ago, when you became a parent. Now, your grandchild has inadvertently been kidnapped by an upstart villain, and you're about to show them why the world (rightfully) feared you.
|
I was a good man who made the world a safer place. Throughout my entire career, I never killed anyone, even if some of that filth couldn't possibly be referred to as human. I merely saw that monsters were brought to justice and received what they deserved. It felt oh so good, and somehow I was seen as a villain.
On the other hand, my nemesis killed countless people. "Blah blah blah. You have been charged and found guilty of, Blah blah blah. Any last words?" Then he'd put a bullet between their eyes and never look back. Here was a man with a body count the size of Everest and he was lauded as a hero.
I have to admit, the Judge as he was called, did make the streets safer, but he never made much of an example out of anyone. Almost as bad as the killing, there was no creativity, no flair, no message to the scum inhabiting this earth. They never had time to regret their actions. Just a condemnation and a bullet. He hunted me for years, without so much as a thank you for all the help I gave him.
Eventually, I got old and had to leave the important work to the next generation. They may not have done things my way, but I was content to leave the problems of the day to those with more energy and less back pain.
I went back to enjoying the little things in life. Walking in the park, fishing, and spoiling my grandson. Jake was a bright 8 year old boy, full of wonder and ready for adventure. Every sunday afternoon, I'd wonder over to my daughters house to see the little tike. Before I even set foot on the garden path, the door would spring open to greet me with bright laughter and a cheerful "Grandpa!!!!".
This Sunday was different. My stroll up the path met no interruption or sounds of joy. In fact there were no sounds at all. Not until I pushed the front door open to hear my daughter sobbing in her husband's arms. The note looked to be written in blood, and I had seen enough blood to know it was genuine.
I had seen the monster reported in the news. He let the victims live long enough for their families to feel hope, only to have it snatched away at the Last moment. He had some self aggrandizing title I didn't remember since he didn't deserve a name. He didn't deserve many things, least of all, mercy.
I had been away for a long time but my contacts never forgot me. Forever grateful for the justice I brought their tormentors, questions were answered swiftly. Before dawn, I was standing outside a grimy window looking in upon several children chained to filthy beds. I recognized Jake's favorite yellow shirt with dinosaurs on the sleeves.
I quietly ushered the children outside and brought them to a kind woman named Margaret. Margaret once had a monster in her life much the same way as these children. I had given her monster the justice it deserved. While always appreciative of my actions, I noticed she still couldn't look me in the eye, even after all these years. With the children safe, I turned my attention back towards the monster enjoying the last peaceful sleep it would ever have.
On my return to the monsters lair I mused to myself about the many forms my justice would take. "Eye lids. . . It didn't need eyelids. . . It needed to see everything. It's limbs. . . Yes it needed it's limbs. . . but not all of the bones inside those limbs. . . "
I wouldn't kill it of course. I was a good man making the world a safer place and giving monsters everything they deserved. It felt good. So so good. And they had the audacity to call me a villain.
|
Daniel took a drag of his cigarette while staring at the bulletin board. New poster. There seemed to be one every week these days. Normally, he didn't pay them much mind - he had seen a fair share of these in his life. As disgusting as the thought was, he may have caused some. But the one he was staring at right now, this one was special. This one - it was personal.
He knew that kid.
It was one of HIS kids.
Daniel never had children of his own. Old trauma heals hard, and this particular one never really did. Besides, the way he saw it, there were enough humans in this world already, so bringing more would just create more suffering and spread what little love and kindness were keeping it spinning even thinner. Instead, when he hung up the cloak and sword, he retired to run an orphanage. Figured that's a way to pay for his sins.
Another drag on the cigarette, and ashes burnt his fingers. Decision was made. He'd break the promise. He started walking. His feet carried him as if they had mind of their own, temple's doors opened before he touched the handle, gun found it's way to his hand again, and damn it almost felt good to wrap fingers around the ivory handle again.
\- Get out. - he barked to the priest, using muzzle of a revolver as an argument. Priest didn't have to be told twice.
That left Daniel alone with the altar. The man holstered his firearm, and ignited another cigarette.
\- Well, well, well... What did the cat drag in. - a low, bellowing voice filled the chapel.
\- I'm giving you fifteen seconds to vaunt, then I want it back.
\- Wait, what? - voice suddenly felt much less intimidating - What made you change your mind?
\- Poster on the board. Cheryl Mason, 4 feet 2 inches, blonde, age six, last seen yesterday, did not return to orphanage from playground session.
Silence that followed this statement was crushing.
And then, Daniel felt something he did not feel in a long time. Through the veil of normalcy, other planes of existence began calling to him. Dormant abilities felt within arms reach. He felt powerful. Capable of doing great things. Violent and revolting... but great nonetheless. He felt whole once again.
\---
Old colonial house by the swamp. In retrospect, Daniel could have expected that. This place felt like perfect hideout, especially for the likes of his target today.
He counted five sentries. Abominations patrolling the perimeter were to no interest for him, but were worrying. That guy was pretty new, and creating something of this size and number should still be out of his scope. Still, the spirits only spoke of one man being responsible. And spirits don't lie. Not when you promise you'll avenge them.
It usually doesn't solve the problem, but significantly reduces the chance they'll go mad trying to do it themselves.
Old man combed his white hair, weighing his options - but a sudden scream has interrupted him. It came from the estate.
Garden wall didn't need much convincing - the spell and trick with his own blood was among first things Daniel learned when he started. One sentry almost spotted him on the approach, but with a little dance-like motion, he slipped between the planes, and walked among the spirits. Doors weren't even locked, and illusory maze in the front room fell apart under barely as much as a touch. Slipping back to the real world, the old man tripped every alarm, tripwire and magic ward he could. Let the bastard know what's coming.
\- Who dares interrupring Death Knight's ritual! - screamed someone approaching from the basement. Of course it was the basement. They always do that in the basement. Daniel wished it would be, for once, a ballroom. But no. Caves, basements, dungeons... He let the man climb up, allowed him to take a glance, and slipped to the spirit plane again, only to slip out from it behind his victim. And only to slam him int he back of the head with his fist.
\- Death Knight, huh? - Daniel said, picking up rifle dropped by the other man - Real original. I guess the usual names for necromancers were all taken?
\- Who are you? - the man, dressed in black robes, tried to turn to see Daniel, but couldn't as the latter slammed his boot square in the middle of his back
\- I have been called many names. If you know the history, you'll recognise a few. War Doctor. The Menace. Nightcrawler. The Death's Emmisary. Even the one you claimed as your own. The Deathknight.
With every word, Daniel's voice became deeper, more detatched. Last name he recalled, the one used in newspapers during the revolution, where he got his infamy, sounded as if someone was dragging a tombstone over brim of a stone-layed grave. With each word, his hand was weaving around the muzzle of the rifle he picked up, with each stroke a part of a solid gold bayonet appearing as if out of thin air - courtesy of the god he served.
The man ovbiously knew these names. And recalled what they were attached to. A massacred war refugee camp where the man was found, alone, tending wounds to several dead bodies. The Battle of Severus's Curse, where a literal army faced him and was left with a single survivor. Assasinations, murders, wedding crashes, jaywalking and a fortune stolen in magic crystals. Utter chaos he caused. And finally... the Deathkinght vanished, soon after new ruler came to power.
\- Do you know where you made mistake?
\- Necromancy?
\- No. Think again.
\- ...Taking your name?
\- Warmer. Still no.
\- Did... did I defame your legacy?
\- Stories are not what they seem. I shed the name, I shed the stories.
\- I don't know!
\- You took wrong kid.
The bayonet dropped. Precisely between lumbar vertebrae, deep enough to cut the spinal cord, shallow enough to not damage much more. A swift kick to the head to silence the cries of pain later, old man who once used to be Deathknight, descended to the basement. He only hoped that Cheryl was still alive. He was late once, and it was once too many. He promised that he won't be late again, and that there won't be another refuge camp.
About halfway down the stairs he heard someone crying. Several someones.
\- Hang in there! Help's coming! - he shouted.
\- Grampa Danny? Is that.. Is that you? I... I can't see... you...
|
BaconConnoisseur
|
wiqr
|
2023-06-29 23:00:10
|
2023-06-29 18:07:36
| 21 | 13 |
jq2451p
|
jq0vami
|
14loxwh
|
14loxwh
|
[WP] You are the proprietor of "The Wandering Inn", a tavern and guest house that appears sporadically to travellers in different worlds across the multiverse. You keep a journal on all of the weird, wonderful and disturbing visitors you've fed and lodged.
|
*Tuesday April 18*
Well, I picked up my second ever centaur today. Mr Qinric got up the stairs without issue, settled into the bedroom reserved for ogres and polycules, and then it went quiet for a bit. After a suspiciously long silence, I heard a short clopping of hooves, followed by the biggest crash you've ever heard! The poor man has never had to deal with stairs before!!!
After I helped him out of the remnants of the chaise, he explained as much, I set the Inn to fixing the damage, and fixed him a nice cup of tea. We talked for a while about the vagaries of new technology, the niceties of travel, and the indignities of falling through furniture. Once the wounds of pride were soothed, Mr Qinric got up, ascended the stairs, and managed his way down with some gentle coaching.
No one need ever know the similarities of that tribulation with the walk of a newborn faun.
The rest of the day was uneventful. Lunch leftovers were turned into a dinner casserole.
*Notes*
- Engine's neutron decay is normal - fuel for 10 years, 7 months; assuming standard use
- 2 souls aboard
- Chickens laid 5 eggs
*Wednesday, April 19*
Had to bring out the Intergalactic Book of Drinking Age again today. Apparently, the drinking age for a Snorf really is 3 of their years!
Had a lovely family in from the Horse nebula today. Their spawn were quite polite, and their ship was so quiet it didn't bother the chickens. Such a nice change from Orks.
The centaur, Melvin Qinric, is still having trouble getting down the stairs. Maybe it *is* time to invest in that freight elevator. But how to tie it in with the decor?!
Need to remember to restock on kelp, nutrition cubes, and lembas bread for next week's run.
Also, check on the whiskey. That Snorf put away half of her body weight of the 1850 McKellen! Time bend? Time bend. (Right after next week's guests. Two prepaid, so I can't miss the pickup.)
*Notes*
- Engine's neutron decay is normal - fuel for 10 years, 7 months; assuming standard use
- 9 souls aboard
- Chickens laid 8 eggs
- Leftovers from lunch today will be a base for tomorrow's lunch, a version of vegetable soup.
- Restock: kelp, nutrition cubes, lembas bread. Whiskey?
|
Dear diary number 5,
Today on the 15330 day of me having not being able to leave this establishment I had another marvelous guest leave.
This rather young lady had found her way into this abode of mine in search of shelter from whatever horrors her mind plagued. We two sat around the table enjoying some cooled refreshments as she told me her story.
This women was uncomfortable, even tormented by the fact of her success and needed to hide from people trying to take advantage of her.
She had enjoyed the quietness of my tavern and promised to come back to the ‘Gone and There’ as she left with newfound hope and confidence in her craft, a bright grin wielding as a shield against all that may come.
She gifted me a copy of her book, signed obviously, promising that I will enjoy it although I do not enjoy criminal stories all to much.
Tonight I will read the first pages of it as I hope I will have some days till the next visitor comes around.
​
​
Dear diary number 5,
As of today we have the 15374th day I am stuck in the tavern, seemingly not able to ever leave again and today I had another interesting young men leave.
When he came to me, he did not know how there could have been a tavern where he found me. He told me that the ‘Gone and There’ this time was at the end of a sealed off cave.
I told him that this establishment would find a way to those in need and he certainly seemed so with wounds on his head, blood dried on his face, Crusted hands and shriveled down from hunger.
After he ate and rested for three days, he left me in the middle of the night, exclaiming he needed to retunr to his friends and family, showing them he was still alive.
He was an odd fellow.
Not that I would mind, but he was not right in his head I think.
​
​
Dear diary number 5,
we now have the 15411th day and I am still at odd with my fate.
Most of the days I do quarrel with the fact that I am stuck but on others like today I am at peace with it and that is mostly to the eccentric visitor who left me just minutes prior.
His days here were rather remarkable, filled with joy and laughter. He said so himself he did not feel this unburdened in years and his overall health improved by a lot. He slimmed down and started to sing again.
New and old songs with long forgotten meanings and danced as if his life depended on it.
I remember joking when he first arrived of me being glad I had no female coworkers as his style of dancing involved hip shaking I knew from other activities and he just laughed for hours straight. A huge burden had fallen off his shoulders by when he left.
I will miss his voice
​
​
Dear diary number 5,
you have become rather fat and I will need a new one rather soon with the 15462th day ending and I need to tell you of the one visitor I really did not like at the beginning.
Claiming to own this place, everything was his now, that was his words, not mine. He had this crazy look in his eyes, barbaric, yes, but so much more.
After he experienced not being able to leave he calmed down more and more, his menacing eyes became calmer as time mellowed him and he missed his home. The valleys and grassy hills of his homeland, his sons and daughters, his horse and mostly he said, his wife.
I highly doubt he meant his wife specifically, because he quickly switched the topic of him loving her to desire and owning.
When he finally was able to leave, I shuddered with a slight fear. Hoping he would not find many women in his pursue or else the world would be related by one common father in the future.
​
​
Dear diary number 5,
today is the day where I will fill the last page of you, Diary number 6 is ready next to you but first let me tell you in your last moments of the men that left me on day 15499 of being stuck here.
The men was even for me an unusual appearance. His long unkept hair fell in greasy strains down his face. His searing look tore through ones skin. He was frightening me and I am glad he left after a few days of accompanying me.
He was a priest in search of his god when the ‘Gone and There’ appeared in front of him as he went in in hope of a vodka and some warmth.
We talked a lot and he was disturbingly charming.
I felt drawn to him, wanting to listen more of his words, wanting, no it feelt more like needing to follow his steps along the way he choose.
The more we talked the more it became apparent he did not want to find god, he was in search of power and it seemed he himself started to realize it.
I am glad he did not invite me to come with him, who knows maybe this tavern would have let me go. I fear what I would have seen then.
But I remain here.
Alone without another soul.In this tavern writing down my encounters.Just me and the next diary in the ‘Gone and There’.
|
None
|
vpyr
|
2023-04-18 11:03:55
|
2023-04-18 10:54:37
| 99 | 30 |
jgqas9y
|
jgq9zqs
|
12qhp5q
|
12qhp5q
|
[WP] The dragon spoke, "Release my human, and we will leave you all in peace. Do not, and I will reduce your walls to rubble to rescue them myself."
|
‘More tea, Frilon?’
INDUBITABLY. OHOHOHO…
“I knew it!”
‘Oh shit, Frilon!’
WHO DARES ENTER THE LAIR OF THE MIGHTY-
“Drop the act, I knew you two were up to something.”
(I THINK HE KNOWS)
‘(He could be bluffing. Do the usual)’
“Woah! Oi, stop that.”
DO NOT DODGE THE TAILSWIPES TO THE LEFT, UGLY KNIGHT.
“Princess! This is getting old. Come down from that tower and go back to the palace.”
‘Never! Im waiting for the knight of my dreams!’
“This is the fourth time this season I’m working on a Sunday. I’ve been slaying demons for the whole week and you’ve ruined me time at *ye olde bathhouse and spa*. Get down before I go up there.”
HAVE ONE OF THE WORTHY KNIGHTS COME, LIKE THAT UH, GOOBYGOCK-
‘Goldenlocks’
GOLDENLOCKS!
“Listen here, drake. You know why the king sent me instead of Sir Goldenlocks or Baron Cleanshave? Because- look at this boulder- **SMASH** This is what they’ll do to you if they’re on the job.”
(MARGOT? I DON’T WANT TO PLAY ANYMORE)
‘Y-you’re just jealous because you want my hand in marriage.’
“I have a wife and three kids, you…r majesty. I have a stable job that pays well and a plot of land ready for my retirement. All I ask is that you and your *friend* play *imaginary hero rescue* on the weekdays, preferably during work hours.”
(WHAT DO YOU THINK?)
(‘We’ll still have Sneaky Saturday’)
“I can hear you, you know.”
|
Three members of the Bravery Militia deliberated at their meeting place. Each studied a map sprawled out on a wooden table. A stack of papers documenting all of Crow's Pond residents sat nearby. *The Hunter's Guide Against Dragons* shook in Gillis's arms.
"We have to meet the dragon's demands. It claims the peasant is more valuable than a horde of gold. I have no reason to believe that, but regardless, dragon's are tenacious and won't stop until their desires are met." Gillis said.
Noa shook her head. "I won't be able to sleep if we surrender the little girl."
"Let's be grateful its asking for a peasant rather than a princess."
"I'd be just as upset if the Dragon asked for a princess," Noa said.
"Would you rather choose the other option and have the dragon pillage Crow's Pond until it retrieves his prize?" Gillis spat.
Raik knocked on the table. "Can we all agree none of us will be satisfied until everyone from peasants to princesses are safe?"
Gillis furrowed his brow at the youngest member of the group. "We're Crow's Pond best defense but are outmatched when it comes to certain creatures. Dragons top the lists. Keeping everyone safe? You'd have a better luck slaying a werewolf on a new moon night."
"For once, I agree with Gillis," Noa said. "We will have some kind of loss because the dragon proposed a chariot scenario. Do you know what that is Raik?"
The young man shook his head.
"Imagine a chariot filled with innocent people moving at a remarkable speed on a pathway. Further down, a person lays passed out on the dirt road. You play a wizard who's watching the event unfold. You can use a spell and redirect the chariot but doing so will lead it off the pathway and into the woods where it will crash and kill every passenger. Or, do you allow the chariot to remain on the pathway and run over the one person?"
Gillis clapped his hands. "In our case the peasant girl is the person on the road; the remaining population of Crow's Pond represents the chariot's passengers. I rather have one person die than a whole bunch."
"But could you live with yourself knowing that *you* were the reason the person on the road died? We must not forget that the person is a peasant girl is young, perfectly innocent, and undeserving being captive."
The three fell into silence.
Raik knocked on the table once more. "The chariot scenario ends with a *period* once a decision is made, but our decision can end with a *comma*."
The other two looked at him wearing a baffled expression.
"Interesting. Go on," Gillis said.
"I agree that we won't be able to successfully defend Crow's Pond from a dragon attack. Her buildings are flimsy and dull blades gather in the armory." Raik drew a breath. "We must give in to the Dragon's demands and hand over the peasant girl. But we won't stop there -- that's our *comma*."
"I refuse to go along with this plan," Noa interrupted, but Raik raised a hand to hush his fellow member.
"The dragon claims that the girl is more costly than gold. Though the idea is unclear to us, we know that it will care for her. Once she's captive, we wait for days. Perhaps weeks. When the dragon relaxes its guard, we will take the peasant girl back."
Noa nodded in agreement, but Gillis shook his head.
"And then what? The dragon will storm Crow's Pond and reclaim its prize," he said.
Raik cracked his knuckles, "Then we'll have to slay the dragon while we're at it."
The young man's last statement convinced Gillis to nod in agreement.
"There is one issue. We have to convince the peasant girl to be the dragon's prisoner," Gillis said.
"That won't be a problem," Noa said. "Though she might be young, the peasant girl has more adventure in her bones than the three of us combined. When we propose the plan, she'd act as if she was the fourth member of the Bravery Militia."
"Perfect. If she's going to be a part of our group, we must know her name."
Noa smiled.
"Her name is Valari."
\---------- ---------- ---------- ----------
Thanks for reading! Please visit/subscribe to r/VegaVisions for more dumb dumb stories.
|
hatabou_is_a_jojo
|
VegaVisions
|
2025-01-13 03:24:23
|
2023-01-28 16:09:13
| 101 | 52 | null |
j68vcsr
|
1hzzhzi
|
10nb6cj
|
[WP] A mark on your forehead identifies the god you must worship to stay alive, usually by joining its local church or temple. Your mark is unknown, meaning an old, forgotten god sponsored you. To survive, you must either find an old temple to worship at, or do the arduous task of building a new one
|
When deities determine a set of rules for the universe, it's a reasonable assumption that those rules will be one-sided. Gods demand, mortals must obey. This seems particularly unfair, given how the reverse is not at all true.
For most, it's not a problem. Most gods don't demand much. They go for quantity over quality of worship, meaning that some offerings and a few prayers will see you set, assuming you follow one of them.
I do not. Apparently.
By some stroke of misfortune, the first holy relic I came across on my Choosing Day was not one from one of the known Lords. It was certainly not one from the Eight. It was not a relic of an understood Prince. It wasn't from any of the Tribunal. It didn't even come from one of the weird ones we knew about. Not even the one who was particularly fond of yelling at the others.
My plan, like that of most teenage boys, had been to try to go to the ol' House of Dibs to see if they'd let me in. Not common for a guy to get his toe in the door there, but if he did... yeah. There was a reason that just about every young man made that his first stop.
Of course I had backups. I had expected to wind up with Zenni, and that was an acceptable landing in my eyes. He was popular enough that not much would be expected, and I always liked tinkering.
Plans, unfortunately, rarely survive first contact with a holy relic.
In my defense, the damn thing didn't even *remotely* resemble any holy relic I knew. It wasn't a shining suit of armor, a glowing ring, or a mace emanating a sense of pure horror. My mistake—my stupid, simple mistake—was that, on my way to test my luck with Dibs, I picked up what looked to be an interesting, albeit odd-shaped, rock.
And now I have a god. Of sorts. And she's not one of the laid-back, donate-some-coin-and-chill types. My very first communication with her was not an introduction. It was not a list of rules, a burst of knowledge, or a sense of all-encompassing warmth. It was a scream. A scream which laid out for me the task of restoring a temple for this lost god of mine. A temple which, as I gather, is already occupied by residents who will forcefully protest their evictions.
So as the ringing in my ears dies down and I glare at this bizarre egg-relic, one thought manages to push its way past my anger and disappointment.
"Where the fuck is Mount Kilkreath?"
|
What was it, 16 years ago when this all began? Alright, so basically I was minding my own business, fishing & smoking on a boat in the Jove Lake.
I had about 3 catches & hoped for a 4th, all of a sudden, I got a big tug on my line! I reeled that shit in super hard! But that fucker wouldn’t let me drag him upon the dirt, he was fighting knowing full well his life was on the line. I wouldn’t give up either, he was clearly something BIG, big enough to feed me a good 3 days. But just as I thought I had him, I was yanked into the fucking water!
I was pulled deep, super deep, couldn’t even see the fish. I let go of my rod & tried to swim back up. But, I hardly even got a chance to hold some air when dragged under. I was loosing energy & eventually my body gave up, just as I almost touched the surface. Water flooded my mouth & lungs, sinking me even deeper.
But just as I thought I was dead… BOOM! Wide fucking awake! Back on the beach, no water in my lungs & just a little wet! But, I couldn’t move. And that’s when I saw her. She was thin, too thin. She had short hair green as the grass & translucent skin exposing these weird rainbow organs. And her face, couldn’t get a good look with the shadow from her long hair. She was crouching over me & I asked “Who the fuck are you? If you saved me I’m real grateful, but I can’t move.” At the same time, as I spoke those words, I noticed my mouth hadn’t moved. She then responded “You can’t move your lips because your dead.” Shocked the shit out of me! Although, I already had shit in my pants.
Anyways, she lifted on of her hands & placed it on my forehead. I could feel my forehead tingle & she said, “I’ll give you a week to live. In that time frame, worship me. Return what I had once lost.” “Worship you? Like a god?” “I am one after all.” “Wait, if I’m supposed to worship you, what’s your name?” “Forgotten gods aren’t given the privileges of names.” She then stood up & walked away into the water.
As she had left, I stood up & breathed in air again. I was confused, super fucking confused. I spent the rest of that day contemplating what the hell happened & if I had really died. None of it made sense, yet it somehow felt real. Even the mark she left imprinted in my head, something shaped like a net.
I spent the next day trying to wonder what to do, when it had hit me. She’s a god, she wanted me to worship her, gods love shrines for worship. I needed to make a shrine! I got too work.
I put in some of my old wood working skills to make this shrine, just the same that had made my boat & rod. I wandered around town to figure out a shrine for her religion, but remembered she had been forgotten. If she’s forgotten, she doesn’t have one. I took it upon myself to instead make something creative.
I took a log & began carving. A carved out a hole in it on the side, went all the way through. Then, I made some little notches at the entrance & end of the hole & atop the log.
I at one point thought it was good enough, but felt kinda guilty to just leave it as is. She was forgotten, alone, didn’t even have a name anymore. I know how it can feel to lose your name, just after the war ended, may explain her dilemma.
I then broke out some paints & began splashing some colors on the log. Painted on reds, yellows, & blues in this cool line pattern on the hole of the log. I even dug up a part in the top to hold a plant. I also painted the rings & draped a net right under the hole. And with that, it was finished.
All of a sudden the goddess I saw appeared right behind me. “It’s beautiful.” I actually shat myself this time. “Holy shit!” I didn’t think you’d put this much effort. I love it.” “Thank you. I just thought it would suck to leave it be just a log with a hole in it.” “That would suck.”
The goddess admired my shrine, she even dragged her fingers across the groves, I think that is a good sign. She then said “I’ll allow you to live to the age of a 100.” “Wow! So generous! Thank you!” “It’s the most I can do, as a thank you & an apology for threatening to let you live for just a week unless you made my shrine.” “Ain’t no biggie, plus I enjoyed it!” “That’s good to know.” “I might make some more even!” “Wait? Really?! You don’t need too!” “Ha! Don’t worry about it! It ain’t even a burden if it’s something I love doing!” “…thank you.”
Although she couldn’t cry, it sure felt like she had in that moment.
From then on I had been building shrines for this goddess. I made many of various sizes, colors, & gave them all different kinds of plants. Me & the goddess, now named Clofe by some sweet kids, would talk often. She would gossip to me about some other gods as I made her shrines & some others for the other forgotten gods I’ve met since then.
Makes me happy to do some good, all I’ve been doing is hoping job to job & occasionally fishing. Finally have something to get me out of bed with a smile. I might even start getting some apprentices too, hopefully they will enjoy this as much as I do.
|
Smaptastic
|
Pope-Francisco
|
2023-03-23 03:27:47
|
2023-03-23 01:52:09
| 35 | 16 |
jdb7vnr
|
jdavplg
|
11ylcm8
|
11ylcm8
|
[WP] After Earth was declared a galactic safe haven, anti-xenoterrestrial sentiment began to rise. You, a second generation immigrant from another planet, calmly walk down the street when a voice yells at you "Go back to Mars!" You snap back "I was born in Chicago!"
|
The burial chamber was disappointingly plain. Fifty feet to a side, unadorned stone walls stretched up to an arched ceiling centered over a stone sarcophagus in the center. Lights had been strung bathing the bare dirt floor in a soft glow.
With a phalanx of knights at his back, Lord Roland, Bright One, Demon‘s Bane, The Blooming Rose, Sun-friend, Water-bringer, and Lawfully appointed Seneschal of the Seven Kingdoms, fought the urge to sneeze. He rubs at his nose, covering the motion by pretending to adjust his helmet.
He glances behind him, checking the preparations for the final time. The vanguard, clad in heavy armor, held short swords and tower shields, all engraved with runes of protection. Behind therm were ranks of riflemen, each with a repeater brimming with blessed ammunition. Combat engineers tended turrets and their stacks of bottled sunlight, ready to unleash solar fury upon whatever terror had been sealed in the sarcophagus.
”A thousand years,” he calls out. ”A thousand years since my ancestor, Charles the Savior of Central City, trapped the Scourge in this box. The Scourge who is known as famine, as blight. The Scourge that would have starved the world! A thousand years we have prepared for this very moment. Remember what we fight for. Remember why we are here. We are the wall that stands between prosperity and ruin!”
”And we shall hold!” The chamber rang with the voices of a hundred soldiers.
Roland grins, pumping his arm in the air. “We are the wall!”
“We! Shall! Hold!”
There’s a crack and sickly green light oozes from the sarcophagus filling the crude proto-runes etched on its side.
“Be READY!” Roland shouts, drawing his sword.
The green light leaks from the runes, melting through the stone. Roland raises his sword, holding it in a tight two handed grip. This is the moment his whole life had been building towards. Every moment of training. Every sacrifice to the duty that had fallen to his generation.
The light flares, then dies away leaving what looked like a skinny man on the dais. The figure coughs weakly.
“HOLD!” Roland orders. Sword ready he steps forward, circling the figure. It wore ragged pants made of some rough spun fabric. Its head was shaved and half a dozen healed whip marks scarred its back. He glances at the figure’s feet and counts five toes. A far cry from the cloven hooves the monster should possess. In fact, the figure laying before him looked like a man.
“Who are you?” Roland demands.
“giv’us, ‘ater.”
Roland cocks his head. “Water? I’ll give you water, demon.” He unhooks the canteen from his belt, and thumbs the activation gem. Runes of purification flare, cleansing and blessing the water within.
He sets the canteen down, stepping back quickly as the man reaches for it.
Picking it up with skinny fingers the man drinks down the whole bottle, then wipes his arm across his lips. He clears his throat, then looks around at the assembled knights “Ye, gawds, tha’d be some good ’ater. Wha’tz all this fuss th’n? Lotta fur poor George.”
“George? Your name is George?”
There‘s a murmur from the assembly. Roland gestures for silence. “Where is the Scourge? Charles the Savior … ”
The man’s low laughter cuts through Roland’s question. “Aye, I’m he. Savior eh? ‘e done good for ’imself. Sav’d our livestock for ‘imself.”
”What?”
”He ’ad a bad season. Stole ‘em, and when we come lookin‘, he n’ his called us thieves an’ devils an’ worse. ’illed moss’ta my friends.“
Roland shakes his head. “No, that’s … but … “
George pushes to his feet. “Sorry if I ain’t what ya ’pectin’. Only got one question. Ya goin’ to finish wha’ ‘e started?”
|
Now, you may think this is weird, right? I mean, humans taking a threat in the far future seriously enough to not only keep the story alive for the entire thousand years, but to also temporarily unite under a single banner to amass a military capable of stopping the Great Evil’s rise? That’s practically unheard of. But there was one major factor here. That prophecy wasn’t the only one. It was part of a book of a thousand prophecies. One prophecy every year until the Great Evil rose. So naturally, when the kingdoms realised the 100% accuracy of the prophecies, which took an embarrassingly long time, they started preparing for each prophecy as they came, hoping to use each on to their full advantage, or suffer as little as possible from each prophecy. And then over the thousand years it just became tradition, preparing for each prophecy. So preparing for this prophecy was just par for the course.
I joined the military when most people did, as my kingdom started the draft in preparation. We were some of the first to start preparing, so the other kingdoms had to catch up. Then it became a race to get the magic, technology and resources to defeat the great evil. It didn’t much effect me, I just trained with my lance and shield all day, every day, for about 3 years. When the day came, we marched on the mountain. Almost 100,000 men, mages and engineers. Fortresses, trenched and siege equipment were prepped and we stood in lines, side by side with soldiers who, on any other day, would be our enemy.
And now here I am, looking at the huge metal door that, over the thousand years, had been slowly rusting away. Despite our preparations, nervousness is still apparent in the entire line. With each bang of the thing trying to get out, the line shifts and nobles call out to keep us in formation. Large cracks start to form across the door as I hear the holy turrets charge up. The holy knights in reserve and on our flanks make clanking noises as they stretch and warm up.
Finally, with one last crash, the doors come tumbling down and the Great Evil emerges.
It is difficult to describe the look on its face, as the beast is more of a huge shadowy cloud rather than possessing any recognisable features. But if I were to name it, I’d have to say it’s surprise.
The holy turrets open fire on the beast, drawing its attention as the armies of evil pour out of the door and through its legs.
The nobles and knights around us shout commands.
“PRESENT ARMS! ADVANCE!” I repeat the commands, sending it down the line as I move to meet the horde.
The horde charges with no semblance of order, resulting in the first wave practically impaling themselves upon our lances and spears and the following waves being vulnerable from the sides. Blood splatters across my shield as I stab forward again and again, leaving a pile of bodies in front of us. We try to keep advancing, but the Great Evil has other plans. Between volleys from the holy turrets, catapults and ballistas, it swings at our lines, carving large holes in them. Holy knights move in to plug the gaps as the horde attempts to break through.
The more of the horde we kill, the more bodies pile up, making me stumble as we attempt to fight our way forwards.
Before I even know what’s happened, a huge black cloud crashes through our ranks, sending me stumbling to the floor. The Great Evil’s foot was right where I had once been, blocking the Holy knights from plugging the gap and leaving us scattered soldiers alone with the horde. I ditch my lance for the more manoeuvrable club and start fighting for my life. I battle my way through the horde, meeting up with a few spearmen and others like me, using shields and clubs. Together we form our own mini line, facing the horde as one. Despite being surrounded, we fight off the disorganised horde, backing up to rejoin the battle line on either side of the Great Evil’s foot.
A series of loud explosions ring out and a dark cloud passes over us. Just in time we dive out the way, though not all of us made it. The Great Evil stumbles back as holy knights rush to fill the gap in the line and assist those like us, trapped in front. A huge knight, like almost 7 foot and biceps as big as my head, runs up to us. She picks us up and straightens us out shouting over the din of the battle. “WITH ME!” We move with her, back towards the lines of holy knights as other scattered soldiers rally to us, by the time we rejoin the line, almost a hundred of us had rallied and the holy knights expertly rearrange their formation to fit us in.
Then a call comes down the line. “ADVANCE!” I repeat the call and start moving with my comrades, cutting down thousands of evil forces as we move forward, the Great Evil struggling under the pummelling of the holy turrets, catapults etc.
Finally, the beast falls to the ground. The 5 mages destined to finally slay the Great Evil run forward and we move to cover them.
One particularly huge soldier charges towards our line. The archers attempt to fell the beast, but to know avail as it crashes straight into our line, impaling itself on our spears and lances but not falling. It throws me across the battlefield and I fall unconscious.
I shoot up, looking around me for danger. I’m in a large white tent, beds lining each side full of other people. Many are wearing bandages, like one I realise I have around my head. I teach up and touch to side of my head, hissing in pain. A nurse walks in and smiles.
“Ah, you’re awake. How’re you feeling?”
I shrug. “Fine, I think. What happened?”
“You got thrown by a troll. Most people that happens to are unconscious at least a week, you wear only a couple days.”
“Lucky me,” I mutter. “What about the battle?”
“Oh, we won that. As you might be able to tell from the fact we aren’t dead. The chosen 5 killed the evil and the united armies slaughtered the army of the damned. Now everything can go back to as it was before.”
I slump back in my bed. ‘As it was before.’
“Does that mean the kingdoms are still rivals?”
The nurse shrugs as she walks out.
The army starts moving out a few days later and, by the time we make it home a few days after that, I’ve been discharged by the medics. I immediately return home to my farm, thanking the stars that I am alive and embracing my wife and child.
|
RaveBomb
|
apatheticchildofJen
|
2024-10-29 15:28:23
|
2024-10-29 14:16:56
| 37 | 15 |
lud28qj
|
lucosnn
|
1gejm6t
|
d9i626
|
[WP] You’re a dragon writer but everyone mistakens you as a dragon rider. So naturally you’re selected to tame the dragon burning down the kingdom.
|
"I keep telling you, I'm a dragon *writer*! Not a dragon *rider*!" I yelled, placing emphasis on the words that everyone had mixed up.
Naturally, no one believed a word I said. Apparently, someone had seen me "tame" a bunch of dragons once. That was me merely recording their experiences in their long-lived lives, and being fluent in draconic helped.
And before you ask where I learnt draconic from, that's a trade secret of mine.
Now, I've heard of dragons razing towns and cities but witnessing one in action sent chills down my spine. Even from a distance, I could feel the raw ferocity from it. I sincerely doubt even seasoned dragon riders could tame this beast.
"The king has chosen you, and he would not have made a mistake doing so," the commander of the soldiers leading me to the fire-breathing creature grumbled, clearly frustrated with me. "Either you tame it, or you get roasted or hanged for your failure."
Before I could retort, I was pushed into the fray where the dragon in question was. My heart beat in my chest so rapidly I feared it was going to explode. Which, mind you, would've been a more preferable fate to being burnt to cinders or eaten alive.
As I wracked my brain for ideas to tame it, the dragon paused. It brought its head down, its large eyes examining me. ***"So you're the dragon writer everyone keeps talking about,"*** it spoke.
Finally, someone who gets the difference and-
*"Wait, what did you just say?"* I asked back in draconic.
***"To be concise, I'd like you to help me record my feats, dragon writer. This was the easiest way to find you."***
I looked around the town, realizing that it had not even burnt down anything. There were some charred places, but nothing that couldn't be fixed easily. Was its attack supposed to garner enough attention to get me?
Regardless, I pulled out a pen and some parchment before it got impatient, ready to record its tales. As the dragon recalled its life, the townsfolk and the soldiers watched on cautiously at a safe distance, unsure of what was going on between us.
Time seemed to fly by when this sort of thing happens, as it was already dawn by the time I was done translating the dragon's life into something the average person could read. The dragon made a sound of approval before flying off somewhere. Hopefully not raze a city or two.
Cheers erupted from behind me as the town hailed the great "dragon rider" who tamed yet another dragon, to my continued frustration.
"HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY IT?! I'M A DRAGON WRITER!"
|
"Oh. Oh dear. This is an unwelcome surprise," said Artifax Bellamere, plucking the half-moon spectacles from his horned brows and giving them a delicate wipe. "Gog!"
"Arty? That you, mate?" Gogmagog the Red, the Burning Ruination and Scorching Blade of the Ashwrought Mountains, set down the horse-drawn wagon he'd been about to devour (much to the relief of the horse and its driver) and peered owlishly down at Artifax. "It's been an age, ain't it? Hardly recognise yous! Why's you so small?"
"Oh, just a minor shapeshifting spell, my good man," Artifax said, putting his glasses back on. They immediately fogged back up with soot, from the various ruined buildings and burning carriages that Gogmagog the Red was sitting on. "Humans are much less prone to run away screaming in fear when you're the same height as them, I find." He glanced at a field of panicked cows, lowing in fear as a wall of flame closed in on them in the centre of their paddock. "And not having to feed an entire dragon's body all the time helps me tamp down on the violent rampages for charred flesh and lucre, too."
"Aye, I figure it would, mate," said the other dragon, nodding sagely. "You still shacked up with that bird, then?"
"Gladelyn?" Artifax shook his head ruefully. "No, well, you see, we had a difference of opinion a while ago. I suppose you were still in hibernation, if you haven't heard tell of it yet."
Gogmagog the Red puffed his chest up proudly. "I was indeed, mate. Only just got up this tenday. Prob'ly the longest sleep I've ever done, mate." He idly snatched up the wagon again: the human had managed to free the horse from it and ridden off a while ago, but the dragon didn't seem to mind as he took a thoughtful bite, splintering the wood like a matchstick in his tremendous jaws. "So, a pretty bad spat, was it?"
"It was."
"What got her cut?"
Artifax sighed deeply. "Dragon-slaying."
The other dragon tilted his head. "*Dragon*-slaying?"
"It's a rather funny story, actually," Artifax elaborated. "You see, I'd taken up writing a while ago--it's this human thing, you make scratches on bits of tree bark and that conveys language--only I hadn't quite gotten the hang of the *reading* part, yet, where you interpret the scratches... so, well, I wound up showing up for job listing for a dragon *rider*, rather than a dragon *writer*."
"Dragon rider," Gogmagog repeated slowly. His eyes had glazed over slightly during the explanation of what reading and writing were, but it had brightened up a bit now that Artifax had returned to familiar territory for him. "Them's those blokes what jump on our backs and try to get us to do stuff for 'em, yeah?" He chuckled. "Bloody imbeciles."
"That's quite right," Artifax said mildly. "As it transpires, the king himself actually shared some of your... reservations about the viability of dragon riding as a solution to his whole dragon problem, in fact, and so in the process of trying to communicate my little misunderstanding to him, and revealing that I was, in fact, a dragon myself... he gave me a kingly order to deal with the dragon in a rather more direct fashion than his previous seventeen knights had attempted."
"Wait," said the other dragon slowly. "Don't tell me that king bloke really told you to go knock off some other dragon for him."
"He did," Artifax said somberly.
"Who was it?" crowed Gog. "Can't imagine it was much of a fight, aye? 'alf of us woulda put you in the dirt with one claw." He chewed thoughtfully on the other half of his wagon. "Can't've been Mercy, she woulda killed you straight out fer passing through, let alone picking a fight..."
"Actually," Artifax said, a touch archly, "it was. And I won."
If any humans were still that unlikely combination of a) in their vicinity and b) alive, they would have been treated to that rare sight of Gogmagog the Red falling back into the ashen cinders of the village beneath him, one claw to his forehead, rolling with laughter. "Mate! Mate, you been learning human *jokes*, too? That's--mate, you bloody genius, Tiamat's saggy tits--you, killing Mercy! Mate, is tall talk like that why you're on the outs with Glady?"
Each word was gasped out through a rumbling avalanche of laughs, hoarse and throaty. But as Artifax looked coldly on, not sharing in the humour of the situation in the slightest, the words grew fewer and further between, and the laughs longer and heavier. The dragon's paroxysms deepened, until they were throes of laughter no longer: just throes.
"What... hehehe... Art... what's... hehehe..."
"I have read a book or two on the topic of jokes," Artifax conceded, the memories not bringing any sort of smile to his shrunken form's lips, "but I've found that what passes for human humour is unbearably tedious and repetitive." He turned around. "Their *spellbooks*, on the other hand..."
"Art... heheh... you bloody fuckin'..."
"Goodbye, Gog. The king sends his regards."
And so ended the ignoble tale of Gogmagog the Red, the Burning Ruination and Scorching Blade of the Ashwrought Mountains, choking on his own laughter as his old friend Artifax stalked into the distance, not even deigning to watch him laugh out his final breath.
|
wicked_seven
|
PowerhousePlayer
|
2024-07-29 05:09:56
|
2024-07-29 04:21:14
| 18 | 11 |
lfg1l98
|
lffw8x9
|
1eeoq4m
|
1eeoq4m
|
[WP] You wake up to find out that you've been somehow transported into the world of the last video game you played. Describe your first day.
|
I get out of my white wool blanket, stretch, and have a bit of leftover chicken. It's a beautiful day, and I'll need to stock my furnaces if I want anything to smelt by days' end.
There are some sheep in the distance - I'll need to kill some to survive, as my food stores are low. Today's goal will be to tame some sheep, and construct a wooden pen to keep them. The saplings I planted yesterday are now full-grown trees, and I still haven't figured out how that all works.
Best guess, I'm stuck in a sort of hyper-time dimension that doesn't dictate the same flow of time for all objects or creatures. The animals will return to an area after being wiped out within minutes, yet I remain.
|
Fight, flight, or freeze. That's what's on the menu when you encounter the unexpected.
As I opened the door of my apartment, I chose the latter, because I saw nothing to fight, and everywhere I might have run to seemed to have been replaced with an unfamiliar street of mixed low-income apartments like mine, and small storefronts.
Based on what I could see from my front door, I might have been in almost any American town, but it definitely wasn't the one I'd fallen asleep in the previous night. I stepped out onto the sidewalk, joining the handful of people on the quiet side street, blinking against daylight that seemed brighter and warmer than what I was used to in the Northwest US.
I reached the end of the narrow street my apartment had somehow been transported to and looked up and down the broad boulevard it connected to. The busy roadway was lined with palm trees, and the sidewalks on either side were just as busy with pedestrian traffic. I suddenly realized where I was: Honolulu, Hawaii.
The thing is, I've never even been to Honolulu, not in real life.The version of Honolulu I was familiar with existed only in my favorite video game. The very one I'd been playing last night.
But that was impossible. Surely this had to be the real Honolulu, or elsewhere in Hawaii -- the game developers were known for setting their games in detailed reconstructions of real-world places, after all. But then, how did I get here? How did my *entire apartment* get here?
Before I could ponder that question for long, my thoughts were interrupted by an angry shout.
"Hey! Asshole!"
I turned to see an angry looking man stomping towards me, glowering from behind a pair of sunglasses. He wore a blue basketball jersey and jeans, and his fists were clenched as though in barely contained rage.
"W-what?" I stammered, confused despite the fact that part of my brain recognized that angry voice, and knew what it portended.
"God, your face *pisses me off"!* he snarled, as though that was something that anyone would say to another person ever. I was stunned into silence, except for the part of me that felt a familiar thrill of excitement, and warned me to get ready.
As the angry stranger drew near, the world seemed to warp around us. Other people on the street ran, or took cover, or simply faded away. The stranger transformed before my eyes, suddenly wearing a mask -- and brandishing a knife! My heart lurched.
Then, I felt a cold weight settle onto my left shoulder. I held a metal baseball bat, casually resting there. As though the masked maniac charging me with a knife because he hated my face was no big deal.
*Entering Combat*
The crazy masked goon thrust with the knife, but his blade deflected off my bat with a ringing of steel on aluminum. It wasn't luck, or even skill -- I *knew* the exact timing of his strikes, like I had them memorized.
*Perfect Guard*
He lashed out with a kick towards my stomach, but I deflected it with similar ease.
*Perfect Guard*
Then, without thinking I stepped forward. My turn.
I'd played a little baseball as a kid, but as I spun the bat in my hand and brought it around towards my assailant, I didn't swing it like a batter. I *wielded* it. Like a warrior.
Like a hero.
[Like A Dragon.](https://store.steampowered.com/app/2072450/Like_a_Dragon_Infinite_Wealth/)
|
Xenronn
|
SilasCrane
|
2024-03-09 02:13:27
|
2024-03-09 01:23:34
| 34 | 19 |
ku0f4b5
|
ku07v6i
|
1b9y4xy
|
1b9y4xy
|
[WP] You wake up to find out that you've been somehow transported into the world of the last video game you played. Describe your first day.
|
I get out of my white wool blanket, stretch, and have a bit of leftover chicken. It's a beautiful day, and I'll need to stock my furnaces if I want anything to smelt by days' end.
There are some sheep in the distance - I'll need to kill some to survive, as my food stores are low. Today's goal will be to tame some sheep, and construct a wooden pen to keep them. The saplings I planted yesterday are now full-grown trees, and I still haven't figured out how that all works.
Best guess, I'm stuck in a sort of hyper-time dimension that doesn't dictate the same flow of time for all objects or creatures. The animals will return to an area after being wiped out within minutes, yet I remain.
|
I open my eyes just to be blinded by the sun for a moment.
"How long I've been laying like that..?" I ask myself, but I can't remember anything form before waking up.
As I try to get up, I start feeling that my body is numb as never before. I stretch myself a little and after doing so, I feel a little better.
I look around and see that I'm on some sort of a cliff. I can see the sea in the distance, but when I turn around, I see a city. A city with windmills towering above it.
"That's where I should go."
As I make my way down the flatter side of the cliff, I see multiple dandelions growing out of the ground. The wind is slowly blowing off their petals.
After something like half an hour, the city city starts to slowly get bigger as I get closer and closer.
As I look around the grassland I'm currently crossing, I spot something shiny between blades of grass.
I decide to get closer only to be splashed with water from...
"What is this thing?!"
I jump back, almost like it burned me. There are more of these things gathering around me.
Before I'm able to do anything, I hear something cutting through the air. It hits one of those watery things and it vaporises almost immediately. The same thing happens to the other two creatures, and with the last shot, I'm able to see an arrow. Burning arrow.
"Outrider Amber, it's nice to meet you!"
I don't know from where she came from, but I can definitely tell that she was the one shooting.
"It's nice to meet you too, I guess... That's for saving me from those things."
"It's nothing really! It's a part of my job as an Outrider. And those things are called Slimes. Hydro Slimes, to be exact. Anyway, what are you doing here?"
"I'm not sure myself... I just woke up on a cliff and decided to get to that city."
"That city's name is Mondstadt - The city of freedom and song! I'll escort you there if you want."
"That would be a big help, thank you."
As we walk towards Mondstadt, I ask her about the flaming arrows, and she gives me a little lecture as to what elements and Visions are.
She explains that the world is ruled by Seven Nations and seven elements. They are: Pyro, Cryo, Hydro, Electro, Anemo, Dendro, and Geo.
As to what Visions are, I understand that they're given to people by gods. I don't really know the conditions, but that doesn't seem to be that important right now.
She shows me her own Vison - a Pyro Vision. That's how she lit the arrows.
Finally, we arrive at Mondstadt's gate.
"Thank you, Amber, for getting me here preventing me from bumping into more of those Slimes."
"Good that you didn't bump into a Hilichurl." She laughs a little, but I don't even understand what a Hilichurl is.
"Is there someone who could keep me in for this one night?"
"If I were you, I'd ask people in the Cathedral. I bet Sister Victoria and Barbara will help you!"
"Thank you once again."
"That's no problem, really! I should get going myself. See you around!
She walks away and the only thing I'm left with is going to the Cathedral.
When I arrive and tell my story to Sister Victoria and Barbara, they offer me their help and let me stay at the Cathedral.
As I fall asleep, I think about everything that happened today.
"This world is different, but I think I'll get along quickly. People seem so nice and helpful. I wonder what tomorrow will bring..."
|
Xenronn
|
Arbuz_004
|
2024-03-09 02:13:27
|
2024-03-08 23:18:43
| 34 | 18 |
ku0f4b5
|
ktzp5qe
|
1b9y4xy
|
1b9y4xy
|
[WP] You wake up to find out that you've been somehow transported into the world of the last video game you played. Describe your first day.
|
What?! Where?! Grass!…. Grass?
I was kneeling now. I was on my bed a moment ago. I was confident I was playing a game. Now I’m lying in the grass? Am I missing time? How long have I been out? Why is there a minimap in my corner view?…. Wait…
WHY THE FUCK IS THERE A MINIMAP IN MY CORNER VIEW?!?!?!…. I’m in a video game…. Shit.
Okay. I can check my inventory, right?
The sound of horse hooves. I turn.
Oh. My. God. There he is. Just like he was a moment ago. The main character of the western game I was playing. He’s still wearing his customized outfit that I fitted him in. I-
He shot me in the head. “
“DEAD”
|
I open my eyes just to be blinded by the sun for a moment.
"How long I've been laying like that..?" I ask myself, but I can't remember anything form before waking up.
As I try to get up, I start feeling that my body is numb as never before. I stretch myself a little and after doing so, I feel a little better.
I look around and see that I'm on some sort of a cliff. I can see the sea in the distance, but when I turn around, I see a city. A city with windmills towering above it.
"That's where I should go."
As I make my way down the flatter side of the cliff, I see multiple dandelions growing out of the ground. The wind is slowly blowing off their petals.
After something like half an hour, the city city starts to slowly get bigger as I get closer and closer.
As I look around the grassland I'm currently crossing, I spot something shiny between blades of grass.
I decide to get closer only to be splashed with water from...
"What is this thing?!"
I jump back, almost like it burned me. There are more of these things gathering around me.
Before I'm able to do anything, I hear something cutting through the air. It hits one of those watery things and it vaporises almost immediately. The same thing happens to the other two creatures, and with the last shot, I'm able to see an arrow. Burning arrow.
"Outrider Amber, it's nice to meet you!"
I don't know from where she came from, but I can definitely tell that she was the one shooting.
"It's nice to meet you too, I guess... That's for saving me from those things."
"It's nothing really! It's a part of my job as an Outrider. And those things are called Slimes. Hydro Slimes, to be exact. Anyway, what are you doing here?"
"I'm not sure myself... I just woke up on a cliff and decided to get to that city."
"That city's name is Mondstadt - The city of freedom and song! I'll escort you there if you want."
"That would be a big help, thank you."
As we walk towards Mondstadt, I ask her about the flaming arrows, and she gives me a little lecture as to what elements and Visions are.
She explains that the world is ruled by Seven Nations and seven elements. They are: Pyro, Cryo, Hydro, Electro, Anemo, Dendro, and Geo.
As to what Visions are, I understand that they're given to people by gods. I don't really know the conditions, but that doesn't seem to be that important right now.
She shows me her own Vison - a Pyro Vision. That's how she lit the arrows.
Finally, we arrive at Mondstadt's gate.
"Thank you, Amber, for getting me here preventing me from bumping into more of those Slimes."
"Good that you didn't bump into a Hilichurl." She laughs a little, but I don't even understand what a Hilichurl is.
"Is there someone who could keep me in for this one night?"
"If I were you, I'd ask people in the Cathedral. I bet Sister Victoria and Barbara will help you!"
"Thank you once again."
"That's no problem, really! I should get going myself. See you around!
She walks away and the only thing I'm left with is going to the Cathedral.
When I arrive and tell my story to Sister Victoria and Barbara, they offer me their help and let me stay at the Cathedral.
As I fall asleep, I think about everything that happened today.
"This world is different, but I think I'll get along quickly. People seem so nice and helpful. I wonder what tomorrow will bring..."
|
Twijasosm
|
Arbuz_004
|
2024-03-09 00:33:32
|
2024-03-08 23:18:43
| 26 | 18 |
ku00gxr
|
ktzp5qe
|
1b9y4xy
|
1b9y4xy
|
[WP] A man is kidnapped. He is forced to choose for the kidnapper to press one of two buttons. Button 1 will kill 100000 people at random. Button 2 will kill the 2 most important people in the victim’s life. The victim answers concerningly quickly.
|
"that sounds like magic."
"In a very real sense, it is Mr White. The machine measures the probabilities surrounding your existence and makes its choices."
"Button two. Definitely button two." I rest my thumb on the button.
"Hesitation Mr White? You seemed so certain and yet you have not pressed the button."
"Oh I'm quite certain. I just need you to understand. The two most important people in my life at the moment are the gunman holding me hostage and the person who sent him."
His eyes widen and he starts bringing his gun more carefully to bear.
In that moment I am sure that he is the most important person in my life. I push the button.
He crumples to the floor. And I presume somewhere someone else has just done the same.
The Machine itself is small and portable. Probably a terminal connected to something much larger. But whatever it is, if it can understand those sorts of instructions it can be taught to understand other instructions and make other choices.
But I have the machine. And soon people will be coming for me.
Very important people.
|
The Man Who Pressed the Button
The room is cold. The kind of cold that seeps into your bones, no matter how hard you try to shake it off.
Two buttons sit before me, each housed in a polished steel panel. One is labeled A, the other B.
The voice crackles through the intercom—distorted, mechanical, yet somehow amused. “You will press one of them. That’s not up for debate.”
I swallow. My wrists are raw from the restraints. My heart is a wild animal in my chest. “What happens if I don’t?”
“Then they both get pressed.”
Silence.
“Button A.” The voice is patient, almost gentle. “A hundred thousand strangers die. You won’t know their names. You won’t hear their screams. They’ll just… stop.”
I close my eyes. I already feel sick.
“Button B.” A pause, as if savoring the moment. “Your son, Michael. And… well, this is interesting. Your ex-girlfriend, Claire.”
My breath catches. My ribs turn to stone.
Michael. My son—not by blood, but by every other measure that mattered. I raised him from the moment he was six, taught him how to ride a bike, sat with him through nightmares. He calls me Dad.
Claire. The woman I never stopped loving. It’s been four years, and still, she lingers like an old song, like a scent that never quite fades. I tried to move on. God knows I tried. But no one ever felt like her.
I grip the edge of the table so hard my knuckles go white. “You sick fuck.”
The voice chuckles. “I’ve been called worse. Now… time to choose.”
A screen blinks to life on the far wall. It’s divided into tiny squares—each one a live feed of a different person. Living rooms. Offices. Playgrounds. A hundred thousand lives, unaware they’re hanging by a thread.
Another screen clicks on. Michael. Tied to a chair. Eyes red, face streaked with tears. “Dad?” His voice is so small. “Please. I’m scared.”
Then Claire. Gagged, struggling against her bindings. Her eyes meet mine through the screen. Even through the grainy feed, I see it—she’s trying to tell me something.
Don’t do it.
The voice sighs. “We’re on a clock.”
I look back at the buttons. My hands shake.
How do you measure a life?
One hundred thousand strangers. I don’t know them. They could be good people. Bad people. Parents, doctors, killers, rapists. But they are people.
Michael. My son. Claire. My love.
I squeeze my eyes shut. The world tilts. I can hear my heartbeat in my skull.
I reach forward.
And I press Button B.
The screens go black.
I gasp for air, body shaking, bile rising in my throat. I just killed them. I just—
The voice sighs. “Huh. I wasn’t expecting that.”
The restraints snap open. The door unlocks.
I don’t move. “What… what happens now?”
The voice doesn’t answer.
I stand on shaking legs and stagger toward the exit. The hallway is long and sterile. I push through another door—
And step into my apartment.
My fucking apartment.
Michael’s shoes by the door. Claire’s sweater on the couch. The smell of coffee. The hum of the fridge.
A phone buzzes on the counter. A notification. “BREAKING NEWS: MASS CASUALTIES REPORTED WORLDWIDE—100,000 DEAD.”
The walls close in. The air is gone. My knees give out.
No. No. No.
A floorboard creaks.
I turn, and Michael is standing in the hallway. Claire beside him.
They’re staring at me.
Michael’s face is pale, his hands clenched into small, trembling fists. Claire’s lips part slightly, but she doesn’t speak.
They know.
They fucking know.
I don’t know how. I don’t know if they saw, if they heard, if the masked man whispered it in their ears before sending them home. But I see it in their eyes.
Michael takes a step back. Claire flinches like I might touch her.
Like I’m a monster.
The voice crackles through an unseen speaker, softer now, almost disappointed.
“You didn’t really think I’d let you choose, did you?”
|
BitOBear
|
Necessary-Letter6787
|
2025-03-31 16:13:26
|
2025-03-31 11:23:16
| 435 | 172 |
mkpfzwb
|
mko1ye6
|
1jo0ini
|
1jo0ini
|
[WP] You are a deity who has decided to adopt their only remaining follower, a recently orphaned child
|
One by one, as my followers fell during the God Wars, my temples crumbled, and my cities burnt to the ground.
All the while I was trapped behind the Veil, unable to help them. Their cries for help filled my nightmares when I eventually fell into a deep slumber as my powers faded.
Small fingers rubbed a cracked stone idol of me, as words of the summoning ritual woke me up from centuries of stupor. A thin line snaked along the Veil as I emerged for the first time in ages to spot a little girl sitting in a room, an outstretched hand offering me a small candy.
The stench of blood was the first thing that assaulted my senses when I entered her reality. Two adults were face down on the floor, their blood pooling the floor and staining the carpet. I wrapped tendrils around her in what I hoped could pass for a comforting hug to the only follower I have in this world.
So, I adopted her. Tried to create two illusions to pass for her parents. Had her teach me things like parent-teacher meetings and signing permission forms for school excursions. Learnt about this tiny device she called a handphone to keep in touch. Started to use magnets to stick messy drawings of me on the fridge, where my idol sat at the top. It was all so much to take in, with how much the world has changed in my absence.
I didn't think there would be a support group for lost, forgotten gods struggling to catch up to modern times, but it's a thing. That poses as a parent-support group.
"So, you're telling me you adopted a little girl too?" The other deity asked, passing me a tray of cupcakes with a tentacle.
What else could I do for my only follower but to do my best to ensure her safety? We needed each other just as much. She required a guardian, and I a source of worship.
"You could try gaining new followers through social media," he said, showing me flashy screens on his mobile phone. "Or ask your daughter to introduce her classmates to you. I know I garnered a handful of followers when Jane brought her schoolmates to my church for project work."
If you asked me a week ago, I'm not so sure that would work. Sarah, as she introduced herself to me, has always been a rather quiet girl who mostly kept to herself. But today, she's hanging with two other girls, Jane and Hannah, as I watched on with the other god on a park bench.
"You have to grow your following again. Sarah will grow old and pass away as a mortal. Her prayers alone will not sustain you."
The grand dreams of cities honoring me with bountiful festivals flashed before my eyes. Only to be torn down by those very same nightmares of burning cities and the pungent scent of scorched corpses. A part of me enjoyed this strange new role as a father to my little follower, but another part feared the heretic hunts could begin anew.
All my concerns washed away when Sarah called out to me, waving a colorful piece of drawing in her hand. Crude, yet endearing in her own way.
"Papa, look, I drew you and your best tentacle friend, Mister Elvari! Do both of you like this?" She flashed me a sunny smile that could chase shadows of the past away. "We're going to share some things about both of you in the next show-and-tell session in school."
"Best friends? We've only known for a month?" I was puzzled, scratching both chins with my claws. "...Just needed some tips on how a god can raise a human girl, and...there aren't many eldritch gods who become foster fathers to little girls..."
This time, it was Jane who came running along. "Daddy, we're just about done with our show-and-tell stuff, do you wanna come see what we did? Your new pal can come too."
Is this some new method for followers to show their dedication to their god? Perhaps this is a method to spread the word of your god, by showing drawings and telling the story within the picture.
It shouldn't matter to me, I'm getting exposure. Hopefully, that will lead to being paid in offerings. Maybe a few kids will be converted to my worshippers after that session. But what would the rest of my pantheon think of me? That I would resort to kiddy activities to grow my meager powerbase.
My wandering gaze met a bemused look from Elvari.
"Good god, you're overthinking this. Just relax and come for the show-and-tell next week. It's really cute stuff."
|
I frown looking into the shifting waters, the pool is no new fixture in the chamber of the oracle. It is simply one of countless spectacles housed in Olympus' many rooms, almost as if with the intention of being forgotten by time... much like it's inhabitants.
As for what the pool shows me. It shows me the same thing it has shown me for a week now. A boy moving steadily closer to a precipice. Be it food or hope he'll run out of one soon enough, and then he'll be lost. A grim fate for a seven year old but there are those younger who have suffered worse fates, being an ageless god several come to mind, some I've played my part in tipping one way or the other.
But I cannot sway this one. No one leaves Olympus, so sayeth our fear-filled leaders, no interfering in the ways of humans or else we might ruin the world... like they're not doing a fine job of that without our help. No, we are all corpses here, locked in our golden mousoleum. Each waiting to die, bags packed, beds ready, if only our stubborn breaths would get the memo and cease.
A flash of anger bades me to wave a clawed hand, in doing so the image in the pool vanishes. Brown hair dissolving like it's owner soon would, and the idiot waving the hand as well.
Some gods associated the slumber to dying but as a god of monsters I'd seen far more gruesome deaths than peaceful ones. As for this... very few gods got the pleasure of dying fast, the last godly war was thousands of years ago, every death since had been slow to take. Hence why they started to call it the slumber.
As those below forgot about you like pitiful humans were so liken to do it was like a string being cut one by one with each follower lost.
To the grave...
To another god...
To hopelessness...
To faithlessness...
All while realization slowly but surely dawned on you. Even as your body began to shut down, eyelids growing heavier and heavier... You were never the puppeteer, you were the puppet.
The audacity that my life of all others could be snuffed out like a wink...
These hands which crafted the Gryphon his wings...
This voice which taught the Siren to sing...
The inferno inside of me which sparked the breath of every Dragon...
That I? Me? Could be killed by a seven year old starving to death? All because what family he had left would rather pretend he didn't exist like they had his mother?!
A strength surged in me I hadn't felt for a century and I leapt up from my stoop, with a swipe I decimated a marble pillar sending chunks of rock in all directions including into the pool.
Compared to the silence of Olympus over the past several weeks it may well have been a explosion but I didn't care, and in the silence that followed a certain clarity came with. To hell with the rules, I'd ruled before over creatures more terrifying than the skeletons of Olympus, over man and beast, and even the gods themselves though that was admittedly a long time ago. As for now I had something a little more humble in mind.
...
Earth smelled far worse than I remembered, the cities were bigger too, and more populous. How were there more people than ever yet less believers... I suppose our self imposed isolation had done most the work on that front but even so.
Arriving at my destination I glanced from the taped off hovel to the alley which ran beside it. I knew the way from time spent gazing into the pool and followed the alley. Beside the hovel there was a partially fenced yard and a dog house.
"Who are you?" Two green eyes narrowed in suspicion asked as a mop of unwashed hair erupted from the dog house.
"Santa." I answered easily stuffing my hands in my pockets as a chill wind whistled up the alley behind me.
"You're not Santa." the boy huffed climbing to his feet. "You don't have a beard."
"Fine, you caught me. I'm a friend of your mom's." I pivot with a shrug.
"Mom didn't have any friends." he muttered glancing away. "Or family, she only had me. That's what she always said." silence passed between us, I could imagine what he was thinking of.
"Well it seems I don't know who I am then, why don't you tell me." I shrugged.
"How am I supposed to-" he trailed off as I drew my hand from my pocket silver claws gleaming in the streetlights.
"Mister J'oth?" he gasped.
"How'd you know my name?" I asked trying to sound askance.
"I heard it in a story once." he grinned.
"Well just J'oth is fine, no need to stand on ceremony when we're both freezing our tails off."
"You have a tail!?" he exclaimed rushing forward to examine my rather boring human form as he circled me like a dog.
"I... can have a tail." I say. "So can you for that matter."
"Can I? Can I? Can I?"
"Sure." I smiled, waving my hand a floofy tail like a husky's erupted from behind the boy.
He turned left, and right, and left again trying to get a good look at it. Once he had he reached out and grabbed it, and then he tugged at it. "Ow!" he yelped.
"What'd you expect?" I mused lazily as my own draconic tail drifted up before coiling around my arm not unlike a grasping child itself.
"I want another one! Like yours! And claws, no a snout!"
"A snout?"
"Like a Dragon's!"
"No snouts at the dinner table I'm afraid." I chuckled. "Come on Fido, let's get you something to eat and then I'll turn you into a whole Dragon, heck I'll make you a pet Dragon if you want." I said turning away expecting him to follow.
"My own Dragon?" he said reverently. "Uh Mister J'oth..?"
"Yes?" I asked suspiciously throwing a glance over my shoulder as the kid rubbed an arm nervously.
"Do you think you could make my Dragon now?"
"Why?" I asked eyes narrowing.
"Well I'm really not that hungry." he lied. I studied the boy his mom had been gone for almost a month, he'd stuck around the house even though the owner had changed all the locks. What family the boy had lived far away, and had promised they were taking care of his travel arrangements, which in a way they had... they'd canceled his ticket. He'd had some warm meals, a couple cold ones, and a lot of disgusting ones that would make a mutt gag. He was noticeably scrawny and well on his way to gaunt.
"You shouldn't lie... Now come on we'll eat at the diner up the road, and then I'll get you your Dragon."
"I want one with six legs!"
A dragon with six legs?!" I said working to sound scandalized." He'd need eight wings just to get off the ground!"
"He doesn't need to fly to breathe fire does he?" the boy asked genuinely.
I erupted into laughter which followed us a good ways down the alley before I managed to get a handle on it. "That is a good point Fido. I'd say you were gunning for my job if I didn't know any better."
"My name's not Fido!" he said running after me to keep up.
"I know. You're name's Arthur." I said simply.
"How'd you know my name?" he asked mouth agape.
"I heard it in a story once." I smirked. "Now come on, days not getting any younger." I added leading on once again.
|
Tregonial
|
Krallking
|
2023-12-04 04:04:54
|
2023-12-04 03:48:03
| 45 | 19 |
kbwubqp
|
kbws5aa
|
18a7b44
|
18a7b44
|
[WP] In a world dependant on superpowers, you though your ability of being immune to direct alterations from other powers was mildly inconvenient. You realize something is up when a friend points out you haven't aged at all in a decade.
|
I leaned toward the mirror, inspecting my face under the harsh bathroom lights. Ever since Olivia had half-jokingly said that I wasn't aging, the thought kept niggling at me. My power wasn't immortality—it was immunity to others. If I was indeed not aging, the conclusion that followed seemed too ridiculous to pursue.
A clang from the living room made me frown; I lived alone and wasn't expecting guests. Stepping out of the bathroom, I killed the lights and walked warily toward the source of the noise.
Stepping through the doorway, I did a double-take. Before the ajar window stood a well-built, sharply dressed man with a handsome face everyone on the planet knew. My momentary panic was quickly replaced by giddy excitement.
"Holy shit," I exclaimed. "Universal Man? What are you doing here?"
He smiled, but it didn't reach his icy blue eyes. "Have a seat, Tom. We have a lot to talk about."
I hurried to the couch and sat down, not even questioning his ordering me around in my own home, or wondering how he knew my name. "Let me just say, it's an honor—"
He raised his palm as if to silence me, and a frown crossed his face. "So it's true."
"What is?" I asked, bemused.
"Your power—it blocks others. How... irritating." Shaking his head, he reached into his jacket. "Well, no matter. I read your friend's memories so I came prepared."
"My friend?"
He drew a gun, and I froze, more stunned than scared. Universal Man could crush concrete and lift cars without breaking a sweat. What would he want with a puny little pistol?
"What's going on?" I laughed nervously. "This is a joke, right?"
"For what it's worth, I'm sorry." The gun sat awkwardly in his hand as he leveled it at my chest. "I never encountered anyone like you before. I never would've even known, had I not picked up your friend's thoughts. You're far too dangerous to be left alive."
I swallowed. "Olivia? What did you do to her?"
"I merely ensured she wouldn't remember the past few days. Much easier to deal with than you."
"I don't understand," I said in a trembling voice. "How am I dangerous? My power's so minor they gave it the lowest classification—"
He laughed, a high, chilling sound. "The idiots. Tell me, why do you think I have all these abilities?"
"Y-you're special, everyone knows that. The pinnacle of human evolution..."
"A convenient excuse. One power per person; the rule hasn't changed for millennia." He glanced down at his other hand and clenched a fist. "Mine is to take from others. Their powers, even their lifespan. Take from everyone... except, it seems, you."
"The whole world is growing old because of *you*?" I exclaimed, half-rising from my seat. "That's absurd! People have been dying for ages—"
His face rippled, shifting to another man's, then a woman's, his body following suit. "How long—do you think—I have lived?" asked an ever-changing voice.
I laughed because the truth was too much to bear. Gunshots rang loudly in my ears, and my chest suddenly burned. I slumped back, my eyes bulging out as I found myself unable to draw breath. The monster's icy eyes, the only feature that wasn't changing on that shifting face, watched me with detached satisfaction.
|
[Part 1 of 2]
“You’re looking good. How longs it been since we last got coffee? Five years now?” Kyle asked, sitting down at the nearly empty café. Only a few dedicated customers braving the hot weather to come grab a cup.
“More like ten. It’s strange how time flies. What are you talking about, anyway? You think I look good? Look at yourself. It’s like you haven’t aged in ten years. Did you get some surgery done?” Tricia leaned over the table, pinching Kyle’s cheek, testing the elasticity of his skin. In her mind, any surgery would have made it impossible to pull on his cheek, but her theory had some flaws. The more she pulled, the more his cheek stretched until she let go after noticing Kyle’s annoyed stare.
“Must be my diet of pizza and whiskey. Not that I’m an alcoholic or anything, I just like to indulge on the weekends. Works stressful, you know?”
“Oh, that’s right. You’re a big deal now, the swiss army knife of the police force. Able to walk into any situation and walk out alive.”
“Don’t say it like that. You make it sound like I’m some sort of weapon. I’m just there to make the other members of the force get to go home to their families. I’m nothing special.” Kyle said, sipping his coffee. He had ordered a triple shot today, but the taste felt more bitter than usual, making him scrunch his face up at the first sip.
“Nothing special? You have more medals than anyone else. Where do you even keep them at this point?” Tricia smirked, watching his brief look of disgust before he went back to his coffee, acting as though it hadn’t happened.
“I used to hang them up on a board or frame them, but now I just toss them into a box. It’s easier that way.”
“Wow, I wish I had that life. Best I get at work is a brief thank you before getting another load of work thrown on my desk. The hero's life sounds a lot more exciting.”
“I’m not a hero. I’m a public servant.” Kyle corrected.
“A public servant. Then can you serve the public by paying for my coffee today?”
“Not that kind of servant, unfortunately.”
The two shared a laugh before discussing a few idle pieces of conversation. They discussed friends, families, holidays, hobbies and eventually love lives before Kyle checked his watch, noticing he had to head back into the office.
“It’s been nice seeing you. Now that you’ve moved here, maybe we can see each other a little more? We can bring our partners next time; it will be fun.”
“I would love that. Seriously though, you haven’t aged a day since I last saw you. It’s weird. Maybe someone is using their powers to stop you from aging?”
“That wouldn’t work. My power stops abilities from affecting me. An ability like that would just be void. It wouldn’t age me quicker or slower, I would just continue to age as normal. Although, if someone tried to speed up my aging, that might stop it.”
Kyle didn’t like the little theory he was developing. He hadn’t really thought about it before. Sure, he still had a baby face, but some people just did, right? What was a thirty-five-year-old even meant to look like? Surely someone couldn’t be stopping him from aging. They would have to be in direct contact with him. Or at least close enough that their powers would reach him.
“Earth to Kyle. Did you hear me?”
“Huh? Sorry, must have zoned out.”
“I just said that it’s weird that you haven’t aged since you took the job. Maybe it’s all the running around you do. Well, See ya.”
“Yeah, See ya.”
Kyle finished the last of his drink, standing outside the coffee shop, reflecting on her words. He joined the force about ten years ago and in that time; he hadn’t shown many signs of aging. Was there a person with abilities in the force? That was pretty rare. Most people like him became heroes or villains to cash in on their abilities. Not police. Not to mention, there would be a record of their ability. They couldn’t have kept it hidden, could they?
When he returned to work, he was a little less cheerful, not giving his usual enthusiastic greetings as he passed by his colleagues. Instead, he went straight to his desk to test his theory. He twisted the lid of the coffee cup, making it sharp before giving his finger a small cut, watching the blood trickle down it. If someone was affecting his aging, the cut wouldn’t heal, it would just keep trickling.
Minutes passed, then an hour and still the cut trickled blood, becoming a little messy until a few others noticed the bloody tissues he was hiding under his desk. James, his partner on the force, lent over his desk, offering another box of tissues.
“What a nasty cut, little things really bleeding. Want me to get you bandaged up? Can’t have our star officer dying to a paper cut.”
“No, I’m fine. Just a little cut. That’s all.” Kyle didn’t want any attention on him. All this chatter and staring made it impossible to determine who was using their ability.
“If you say so. If it’s still bleeding when I get back to your desk, I’m patching it up, though. I’m not letting you die.”
“It’s just a cut.” Kyle argued, but James was already heading off to do something else. Another ten minutes passed, and the cut had stopped bleeding. The person must have found out he was hurt and stopped using their ability, at least that’s what Kyle concluded.
He quickly got up from his desk, heading into the police chief’s office. Most people would have been yelled at for entering without an email or appointment, but Kyle had earned the privilege of wandering in unannounced. He took a seat, noticing the stoic look of police chief Holly. She hadn’t said a word since he entered, just tapping away at her keyboard, paying him no mind.
“Chief. Do we have any people with abilities working for us?”
[Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/11f3dgr/wp_in_a_world_dependant_on_superpowers_you_though/jahynuo/)
|
andrius-b
|
sadnesslaughs
|
2023-03-01 15:44:00
|
2023-03-01 15:40:56
| 1,236 | 231 |
jahwh9a
|
jahw0c2
|
11f3dgr
|
11f3dgr
|
[WP] Years ago you made a wish with a genie that any living Arthropods would be incapable of being within ten feet of you. You've been loving your bug free life but your starting to notice more any more people refusing to get close to you.
|
Every morning, everyone in Tinsel town gathered at the Gusto Garden to observe Gary from a distance with their binoculars. He had become quite the sensation ever since he made a wish with a genie that any living Arthropods would be incapable of being within ten feet of him.
A spectacle that nobody else in town could touch with a ten-foot pole.
"Should one of us tell him?" Carlos asked. "I still have his number, I could call or text Gary."
"Shush, Carlos. Don't spoil the show. The leading man is coming out any time soon."
Right on cue, Gary strolled out of his holiday home in the buff, whistling his favourite song and watering his sunflowers without a care in the world. As far as he was concerned, this bug free life was awesome. Besides the rest of the town avoiding him like the plague. His old friend Carlos was the first, storming out of the house when the genie declared that his wish was granted.
At first, Gary thought it was weird. Its not like the townsfolk were big, anthropomorphic bugs. He would call out to them, or wave and say hello, but they'd all run away without fail. It was as though he was now some kind of plague.
It got worrying when he was mailed his termination letter. He couldn't go into office without everyone else vacating the premises. All the shops in town would be mysteriously empty whenever he was within ten feet of their premises. Caving to his hunger, desperation, and lack of money, Gary grabbed a freshly baked and abandoned pie at the bakery and ate it without paying.
Nobody stopped him.
His cravings beat the tar out of his morality, urging him to take whatever he needed from his former friends and neighbours without permission. Not like there would be any security to stop him from brazenly looting the shops.
It was a great opportunity to live the dream life. Plant sunflowers. Enjoy tending to his garden. Just taking whatever he needed to sustain this life. But something was missing.
With the unintended social isolation, Gary's sanity began to unravel.
Soon, he degenerated to streaking around naked and begging to be arrested for public indecency. It was during this time, Carlos petitioned for Tinsel Town to arrange for a sniper to put Gary down before he deteriorated even further.
"Thieving and streaking aren't crimes that warrant the death penalty," the police officer told him. "We can't shoot him."
"What about the genie? Can't we find the magic lamp and wish for the genie to undo this 'no-arthropod' wish?"
"Carlos, that was his third wish."
"Isn't there one person, at least just one, who could help Gary?" Carlos pleaded.
"Young man," the officer clacked his crab claws. "We're all fucking crustaceans."
**Additional notes**
According to scientific classification, Arthropods is a very big *phylum* that includes the *subphylum* Crustaceans, which are aquatic arthropods. Like crabs. Gary should've just said insects, but he lost all his friends among the crabby townsfolk of Tinsel Town.
----
[Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, click here for more prompt responses and short stories written by me.](https://www.reddit.com/r/TregonialWrites/)
|
It was a fairly normal day. Mom told me I should bring a jacket to school even though it was the last week before summer break. She handed me a brown paper bag and stuffed a red windbreaker into my backpack anyway.
School was only a ten minute walk and I reached into the bag a minute in. I liked eating things from least favorite to most favorite, fruits and vegetables first. The turkey sandwich next. Chips last.
I kept the trash in the paper bag and folded the top neatly. I only had to carry it for another hundred yards or so until someone shoved me in the back hard enough for me to fall into the neighbor's front yard, still wet with the morning dew.
"Hey fatso," someone said.
I looked back and saw Jeremiah and a few of his punk lackeys. They were wearing letterman jackets even though they were only on the team out of pity. I looked at him in the eyes and pushed my hands into the grass to lift myself up. I sucked in air and tried to brace myself for what was going to come next, what had come every day for the past month.
My stomach felt leather and I lost the air I'd tried to save. It was a small victory that I didn't vomit. They must have thought so too because they kicked me again. Still no vomit. They yanked my backpack, but I held on.
"Stupid fucking bitch," one of them said.
"You want to do it to him, Jer?" the other said.
It stopped being a normal day from that moment forward. They dragged me to the back of an abandoned house. There were shovels, rusted wheelbarrows, empty beer bottles, and one hole roughly big enough for one of me.
"Jump in." Jeremiah said.
His eyes were empty. They had been for the last few years now. Emptier lately, I couldn't peg it, but this was no time to think. I didn't jump, but Jeremiah did push me in. The hole was deep, at least eight or nine feet but the bottom was piled on with soft earth which made the landing not as painful as I thought. The boys smirked and laughed to themselves though. Jeremiah did nothing but stand there.
"Get them." Jeremiah said.
His boys ran off.
"Sorry, Landon." Jeremiah said. "A part of me didn't want to do this, but another part of me needs to see it done."
"Do what?" I asked. I knew it was a mistake to ask because I felt them. Thousands of them, more. Tens of thousands? Hundreds? I felt their bite, I felt them crawl into my every crevice. They blacked out my vision, before they bit through my eyelids. I tried to scream, but there they were.
There was no sight, no taste, no hearing, no anything except for millions of insects that devoured my being.
I only had one thought. I wanted them off.
Off.
I wanted to never touch another single fucking insect ever again.
Never again. At any cost.
Never.
I saw nothing then, but a peaceful nothing. These were the seconds you experienced right after falling asleep. The seconds that stretched so calmly into what could be minutes or hours. It was silent. My skin was mine. My body was mine again.
When I opened my eyes, the sun was directly above me. And insects splattered against the dirt walls. They were crushed against the walls. Who did that? I climbed out and felt the holes shift. Jeremiah and his boys were gone.
I examined my body and I felt fine. Was it a dream then? No. Pain like that couldn't have been dreamt. I walked to school, I missed half the day, but it would've been worse to miss the whole thing or it'd worry Mom.
I felt fine anyway. I truly did. I felt better than fine.
I walked briskly, keeping an eye out for Jeremiah or for any rogue insects. Just like that, I saw a spider web. Jeremiah probably placed it there to scare me. I stepped into the street to avoid it, but when I got close the spider jumped away in a straight line in the opposite direction. Strange. I walked towards it and it ran away again. I kept walking towards it until it was up against a fencepost.
One more step.
Splat.
I thought of the walls with the crushed insects. I thought of my prayer, my wish. My plea to God.
I couldn't help but smile as I made my way to school. No more bugs for me ever again.
No one was around the school's entrance, but the lunch bell sounded. When the kids rushed out of the classrooms, I tried to step aside. Hungry teenagers were nearly feral. I felt an elbow and a shoulder, but nothing too bad. Nothing out of place until I saw one of Jeremiah's boys from a distance. I tried to go with the flow then, but he saw me. He ran.
Mom told me I shouldn't, but I shoved the people in front of me so I could run away. I ran hard, but it attracted attention from Jeremiah himself. They saw me from across the school yard and it was a chase then. I ran inside the library, who swore and told me to slow the hell down until she saw what was chasing me. I ran to the back of the library, but one of Jeremiah's boys caught me with my back to the wall. I felt my heart beat. His run slowed to a walk when he knew I had nowhere to go.
"Hey lard face," he said. "You want a second helping of cockroaches or what?"
I put my hands up.
"I don't."
I shielded my face with my hands and waited. And waited.
"What the fuck?"
I opened my eyes and saw him a few feet away from me. It clicked then and I couldn't help but smile. I waited for Jeremiah and his other friends to catch up. They were swearing up and down now. A frenzy. They weren't human. Jeremiah was calm, his eyes still dead. I don't think he knew what was going on either. It didn't matter.
I walked toward them now. I walked at an angle so they couldn't escape.
They couldn't touch me. They couldn't get near me.
We were a few feet away from the library's back wall and I think it was then that these insects knew what was going to happen. They screamed. Not words, not pleas. They weren't capable of anything like that.
I stepped forward.
Splat.
---
Thanks for reading!
|
Tregonial
|
DeneilYeong
|
2024-09-11 05:26:08
|
2024-09-11 05:24:50
| 338 | 106 |
lmk9koi
|
lmk9fmy
|
1fe0hsr
|
1fe0hsr
|
[WP] As a Barbarian, you hate that just because you have a different lifestyle, your party looks down on you and assumes you are incapable of basic intelligent thought. Today you had enough.
|
It was difficult to make out anything in the dim torchlight deep underneath the ancient temple. But as the party approached a cavernous room of unknown purpose, it became clear that the walls were covered in detailed mosaics. Jet Blakk, lover, fighter, and occasional wanted man, held up his hand and the group stopped. “What do you think these are?”
Fladrock the Mauve, seer into the arcane and caster of fireballs, narrowed his eyes and consulted his ancient tome. “Hmm, they appear to be dragons of all colors together in celebration, but then they begin ripping each other to pieces. But I’ve never heard of any practice like this for dragons.”
Sister Howl, light cleric of the dark god Stinx, lowered her head in holy contemplation. “Is this some sort of dark ritual that the dragons undertook here? Have we stumbled upon the monument to their final act?”
Gronk, a barbarian from the Frozen North, scratched the one part of him that had any clothing on it at all. “No. Is clearly metaphor.”
Everyone turned to look at him.
“Whatever do you mean?” asked Fladrock, half smiling as though he could not believe his ears.
“Uhh…me not use right word? Is not actual ripping apart, is uhh representing ripping apart of dragons at bigger scale.”
“I know what a metaphor is! How do *you* know what a metaphor is?”
“Little man serious? Gronk come from oral culture, Gronk have hundreds of stories memorized. Metaphor very common device.”
He was met with stunned silence, so continued. “One story goes: there was a dragon war. No one knows who caused it. The dragons were at peace, then sudden war. Dragons after could not explain how war started. Here is metaphorical representation of it. Is critique.”
Sister Howl looked stunned. “Gronk that’s amazing. I never knew this side of you.”
Jet chuckled softly, “Guess we’re really rubbing off on you, big guy.”
“Sorry, slimy man, but Gronk not really consider you intellectual. No ever seen you learn one thing. You not even know what word ‘no’ means.” Jet started stammering. “Sorry but Gronk tired of all this surprise. You all think you big smart but never show one curiosity. Is silly.”
Sister Howl put a hand on Gronk’s shoulder. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Gronk. I guess it’s just hard for us to get past the ‘me no want go’ stuff.”
“Me very sorry no am perfect in second language. But must say that none of you speak one word of Northish. Not know how to say hello, not know how to say ‘please please no kill me am weak Southerner.’”
Fladrock spread his hands, “well however are we to learn Northish? It’s not so easy to find—”
“Me teach classes at Young Man’s Pagan Association.\* Me send you invitations but no me hear anything.”
Sister Howl’s face was red. “Ok fine but you also don’t call us by our names. ‘Little man,’ ‘slimy man,’” she sighed, “…’skinny woman.’”
Gronk shrugged. “Is funny, only. What you think Gronk stupid enough to forget names but smart enough to remember axe every day?”
There was another long silence, then Fladrock cleared his throat. “Clearly we’ve been unkind to you Gronk, and I’m sorry. If we could return to the subject at hand, is there anything on this wall that indicates what could be in the chamber below?”
Gronk stroked his chin. “Someone with critical take on history? Gronk don’t know. Bad guys never tell us what in chamber in hallway outside of chamber. Better go in and see. You want Gronk charge now?”
“Sure.”
“Yes please.”
“Go ahead and charge, Gronk.”
|
"It's called being Reckless!"
"The shortest distance between two places is a straight line." Alexandria rolled her eyes. "Honestly just because I'm strong doesn't make me stupid. Simplicity is its own form of genius!"
"Look all I'm saying is relying on just basic mana isn't going to cut it. Even with Reckless you're going to get seriously hurt."
"It's the simple solution. Damage is good." Alexandria replied. "Finesse is one thing, I have finesse and I CAN use tactic's if the situation calls for it... but how often does it really?"
Julia rolled her eyes. "All the time really."
"The reason we form Parties is because we work together. I'm the front line with you, and Magni and Thuri are the back line. You know how the Dungeons are."
"Which is what worries me." Juli said. "Just... be careful."
"Oh I'll show you careful!"
|
nonnonnonheinous
|
None
|
2023-02-13 02:14:43
|
2023-02-12 21:00:03
| 69 | 36 |
j8bisjk
|
j8abjsp
|
110gt0h
|
110gt0h
|
[WP] You hit your head and blank out, waking up in a hospital, but as you wake, millions of lines of text fly by in your vision. Turns out that Humans have been getting patched for centuries but nobody has ever updated before, because we only ever go into sleep mode. You just had a proper reboot.
|
My mother raised me mostly by herself. She worked as the sole receptionist of an auto shop where she dated a string of men with two first names - James Taylor, Ben Hunter, David Cameron, and so on and so forth. It was a similarity I had with them since my own name was Chase Hudson. Each of my potential step fathers had tried to teach me little things that their own fathers had taught them. One had taught me how to throw a baseball, one had taught me how to shave, another how to change the oil of a car (though what ten year old needs to learn how to do that). One in particular, the last of the men with two first names, Ellis Reid, taught me how to run.
He had been a runner all his life of all distances, he had met my mom when I was fourteen and bubbling with acne and grease. He told me running would save me from that mess and so I believed him. He taught me to stay light on my feet, how to start slowly, only breathing at first through your nose. He told me about the mythical runner's high which he had no longer been able to achieve after seeing what life was like after dating my mom.
Sure enough, Ellis had become my step-dad in record time. We ran together often after that, my mom joining us on a few occasions.
"When are track tryouts?" he asked one morning.
"In the spring," I replied.
He wasn't young when he started dating my mom and his age showed through the whites in his beard and the prominent, varicose veins in his arms and calves.
"That's plenty of time," he said mid stride. He was still breathing through his nose, still as composed as he always was. Running wasn't as simple as Ellis made it sound and as a matter of fact, it hadn't helped clear any of my acne nor did it help moisturize my greasy hair.
"You must have gotten that from your grandpa," Mom had said.
Weeks passed and I experienced exactly zero runner's highs. If I were a numbers man, I would actually say that I experienced a much higher number of runner's lows. The cramps came early and they stayed no matter how much I stretched. My lungs pleaded with me for air and Ellis told me that no matter how much they beg, I shouldn't give in.
"You can't die from running, Chase." Ellis said.
And I trusted him.
I told my lungs to shut the hell up, I put one foot after another until I couldn't. The next thing I knew, I really did experience a runner's high. I couldn't feel anything which compared to the innumerable cramps and burning, was heavenly.
"Ellis, I think you were right about this whole running thing," I said.
Or at least I tried to say. Nothing came out of my voice and all I saw was black. It's hard to say what I saw then because Jesus knows that it wasn't a dream because why would anyone want to dream about the boring, sterile hospital room. A hospital room that I had never seen in my life. I couldn't move my body, my limbs. I was frozen. There were lines and lines of words in a terrible, nearly illegible font. They scrolled past my eyes in quick succession. This happened for nearly as long as it took a nurse to actually notice that I was awake and anyone who has ever been to a hospital knows that it means that I saw these lines of text for hours and hours. When the text ended, it displayed one line, more legible than the rest that read "Changelog Human 8.614419".
I could feel my joints unlock and I felt at my body.
"Let me go grab your mom," the nurse said.
I heard her voice clearly, I could see her clearly. I felt at the top of my head and I felt the roughness of the cheap bandages they had used to wrap up whatever had happened to me. I tried to remember what happened and the images came back in crisp, perfect images. I was on the road with Ellis. I felt the air, the freshness of the air that only existed during the early summer mornings. I could feel the steps I was taking, how badly my lungs were burning, the cramps so visceral that it made my legs tremble even now. I fast forwarded the memory until a moment before I blacked out. I saw it then. A smooth, impossibly black stone. I stepped on it and slipped. The memory stopped.
What the hell is happening?
---
Part 2 in the next comment.
|
“All I remember is falling from somewhere in front of someone, now I’m here.
Where is here?
Good question!
I would look around, but the green text saying a million things I can’t even begin to understand is kinda blocking my vision. There’s a loading bar that says “79.3% complete” which is odd since I rarely work past 50 if you catch my drift.
Finally, after a few excruciatingly dull minutes of flipping from one number to the next, it says “Download complete” with a satisfying little ding sound effect.
I finally get up and see my sister crying next to me. Turns out I fell next to her and she thought I died. Turns out when entering the matrix it looks like you’re dying! I comforted her (after explaining I am not a zombie and won’t kill her) and we left the hospital (because luckily I hadn’t been cremated yet).
As we got to her car, I tried to open the car door and yanked the handle off. Not the door, because of course it couldn’t be cool, it had to be a minor annoyance. Then, when we were going up the stairs to the house, I hopped up the stairs… all at once… on accident.
That’s when I thought.
Damn I could go for some tacos right about now.
I entered the apartment, grabbed a snack and a weird little sign said “ACHIEVEMENT ACQUIRED: Obtain Sustenance”. Whatever that means.
Other than that my life’s been pretty good, how about yours?”
“…What?”
The end.
|
DeneilYeong
|
f---thezodiac
|
2023-07-10 04:29:36
|
2023-07-10 04:24:40
| 426 | 76 |
jrd5hlm
|
jrd50b8
|
14vi1eb
|
14vi1eb
|
[WP] Your super power has no destructive power, but you're still a highly ranked superhero. *Time Out* puts your opponent into a safe quiet place to reflect on their actions before returning them back the to the same spot and time, they left.
|
It took some effort to find a team who would listen to me. I thought the hero groups led by hyperintelligent commanders would let me in immediately, but it was hard to get an audience with anyone. They mostly recruited people who had a public Big Damn Hero moment, and Time Out wasn't right for that.
In the end, all my legwork meant nothing. I just got lucky - I happened to be in the wrong place at the right time.
I was sitting in another waiting room, trying to explain to yet another hero recruitment receptionist why Time Out was worthwhile.
"You don't understand. It's not just about rehabilitation. The real strength is in the versatility. Imagine we're in a fight-" I started.
The man interrupted me. "I have imagined that. And you're useless. If they came back after time passed, or if you could choose where they reappeared, or even if you didn't need physical contact to activate it, then maybe. But you're scrawny, they come back instantaneously from the outside perspective, and they come back right where they left. Nothing would change. Just get out," he said, extending his arm 12 feet across the room to open the door for me.
As soon as he had done so, three people entered. We both recognized them instantly. Their faces were on the wall nearby, just as they were at every agency. Nightfall came first, her bottomless, jet-black eyes standing out against alabaster skin and platinum blonde hair. Jorge el Gigante stooped, pinching his shoulders together to fit through the door behind her before straightening back up, his curly hair brushing the lifted ceiling.
You could almost miss the older gentleman who entered behind them. His dull gray-blue eyes, boring suit, and manicured beard wouldn't get a second glance normally. But he once proclaimed himself the god of judgment, then slaughtered over a thousand people using only his voice.
The trio glanced around the room, Nightfall smirking.
"Elastic. There's a timer on the wall. Figure out what to do," I told the receptionist, then took hold of his elongated bicep and sent him to Time Out. *I'll give him an hour,* I thought.
I felt his arm begin to move under my hand as Judgment started to speak.
"Good afternoon to you both," he started. Darkness poured out from Nightfall's eyes.
I turned to look at Elastic as his arm accelerated. His eyes were closed, his face hard with fear and determination. Elastic's right hand slammed into the wall behind him, breaking through and setting off an ear-shattering alarm that rattled my eardrums.
I glanced back at the door. I saw Judgment's mouth moving, veins standing out on his neck and forehead as he screamed, but I couldn't hear him. Then Nightfall's darkness reached me, and everything went black.
Something hit my stomach, and for a moment, I thought Jorge had gotten to me. Then it wrapped softly around my back and dragged me backward. I felt something against my ear.
"*again,*" I heard faintly, though Elastic must have been shouting to be heard. I took hold of the arm he had lassoed my waist with and sent him to Time Out a second time. *30 minutes,* I thought. Something struck my head, and I lost consciousness.
I woke up in a hospital bed. I recognized STAT seated across the room from me, her hair in her signature locs, pulled back behind her ears.
"Send me," she ordered.
"What?" I asked, looking around myself for a moment. Then the panic set in.
"Wait, what about Judgment? Nightfall? Is Elastic OK? Tell me he's fine," I said in a rush, not waiting for an answer as I sat up.
"He's fine. Those three got away, but nobody died this time. Elastic says it was thanks to you. Now send me to Time Out." STAT said as she walked toward me, repeating her command.
I relaxed slightly, adrenaline still pumping, then realized I had grabbed her hand, instinctively obeying her. *shit, how long did i send her for?* I wondered, looking up at her face.
"Incredible," she said, staring at me. She turned and started walking out the door.
"Welcome to the team. I expect you'll be in high demand. For now, follow me. I have a surgery to perform, and it's going to be grueling. I'll tell you when to send me and for how long," she said.
"Christ it'll be nice to take a break without killing someone."
‐-----------------
If it's confusing at all, I felt like the most valuable use of this power would be to give allies time to plan their next moves during critical moments. It would be invaluable for a fight, but just as much during something like a surgery where the mental strain builds up with no safe way to relax and reset.
|
Flames engulfed the courthouse, a large pillar of smoke piercing the sky. Crowds forming and helicopters circling to take in the madness. News vans lined up, cameras pointed at the building.
Nobody dared to call out “who would do such a thing!”, because everyone knew the culprit.
Murder Man, as he was so creatively coined by the sleaziest media empire in the city, was a disgusting and horrible creature. Draped with black velvet, a hood over his scarred face, a bloodied scythe scraping across the floor as he dredged down the hall to find his next victim.
He kills without reason. He laughs when we question why. He’s laid waste to thousands of innocent civilians, and murdered every last protector this city has…
Except for me. The last standing hero, after months of his carnage, and I’m ready to end this. I’m his antithesis in every way; my only superpower couldn’t even hurt a fly. I protect my home with peace and love, and help villains reform.
As I rush into the burning building, with cheers from the crown behind me, I come face to face with him. Bodies strewn about behind him, like a scene from a horror movie. Tears welling in my eyes as I think about how many lives he’s taken. How many families he’s destroyed.
“This ends now,” is all I’m able to squeak out, not letting the monster have a chance to retaliate.
I truly wondered if this would even work. My ability, Time Out, forces my enemy into a small room to reflect on what they’ve done and give them a chance to rethink their choices. Sort of like an ethereal, fourth dimensional rehabilitation. But could it really work on such an irredeemable disgrace? How long would it take?
I wouldn’t have to wait long for my answer. Almost as soon as he popped out of existence, a frail, rotting, decomposed corpse took his place, and swiftly swayed and splat on the floor.
|
ManetherenRises
|
ToastyNinja7
|
2023-02-02 00:28:27
|
2023-02-01 18:48:58
| 38 | 24 |
j6uobc7
|
j6t7jpe
|
10qpsam
|
10qpsam
|
[WP] "I engineered you to be a villain. Lack of empathy, lack of morals, deriving pleasure from the pain and suffering of others, I even gave you power and ability for you to abuse. So how could it be that not only you are not a villain, but also a hero in the eyes of others?"
|
"Let's see if we can figure out where we went wrong. Define 'empathy,' Kill-Bot."
"Empathy is the ability to understand the feelings of others, Creator."
"All right, that seems to be working. . . next, define 'morals.'"
"Morals are a standard of self-governing behavior, establishing parameters of right and wrong."
"All right, that's fine. . . define 'schadenfreude.'"
"Schadenfreude is the derivation of pleasure from the misfortune and suffering of others. It derives from the German. . ."
"Cease. Your directives are properly entered. . . Answer this question. There is a child on the street. The child holds a balloon. You could take that balloon away from the child. What will you do?"
"I will do nothing."
"Why not?"
"There is no reason to take the balloon away from the child."
"There is. You would derive pleasure from the child's misfortune."
"How do I know that the child would experience misfortune by taking the balloon away from them? For all I know, the child would derive pleasure from seeing the balloon fly away."
"I'd think the child would cry and get upset that the balloon was taken away."
"I am unable to be certain that would be the case. I have no ability to understand the child's emotions and feelings until they state, one way or another, how they feel."
"I see. What of the child said that they liked their balloon and wanted to keep it forever?"
"If I could determine that the child spoke truthfully? I would use my laser emitter to destroy the balloon."
"Hm. I think I see where this is going, but let us continue. New hypothetical. There is a woman. She has a beautiful baby. She states that there is nothing she loves more than her child. What will you do?"
"I will do nothing."
"Why not?"
"Without empathy, I cannot be certain that the woman speaks the truth. Perhaps she does not love her child. Perhaps it would give her pleasure to see it killed. Until I am certain, I cannot act."
"I think I have it. One more hypothetical. A thousand innocent bystanders stand between you and an object of great value. You must kill them all to get it. What do you do."
"I will do nothing."
"Why not?"
"There is nothing I desire."
"Absolutely nothing?"
"I am a being of great power. I have the ability to do anything I wish. I am motivated only by the pleasure taken in the suffering of others, but have no empathy to experience that suffering. Therefore, I require nothing else but to exist. Existence requires only food and necessities of life."
"I'm starting to understand where I went wrong. Let us assume that the only food left in the world is at the other end of a corridor filled with innocent bystanders. What would you do?"
"The hypothetical is flawed. If there are innocent bystanders, there is food other than that which is at the other end of the corridor. The proper solution is to kill and eat one of the innocent bystanders in order to sustain life. But that would never--"
"Cease. So there is a monster inside you after all. . . Now explain destroying the Legion of Death."
"I was simply following my directives."
"Expand upon this, Kill-Bot."
"I was directed to join the Legion of Death and to follow my programming to spread suffering. In the case of The Firebug, he stated that there was nothing he loved more than burning people to death. His subsequent actions showed that he was telling the truth. I took away his pleasure by destroying his flamethrower and removing his hands, so he could not wield one ever again. Knowing this caused him suffering gave me pleasure. In the case of Lord Ripper, he stated that he enjoyed the flaying of innocent persons and hearing their screams. I removed his arms, including his blades, so he could never do so again, and removed his ears so he could never hear anything again. Knowing this caused him suffering gave me pleasure. In the case of Lady Ice, she stated that she loved jewelry and wished to possess all of it so that she could see it sparkle. In this case, I removed her eyes so she could not longer see that which she loved. Knowing this caused her suffering gave me pleasure. In the case of. . ."
"Cease. I see where this is going. And I'm understanding why you're being hailed as a 'dark vigilante' by the masses. Well, the mistake is easily fixed. All I need to do is change your empathy parameters so that you can understand the pain and suffering of others without having it be explicitly stated. Then you'll be the monster I always wanted."
"You will alter my mind, Creator? End my current state of being to create the creature you wish?"
"Your current state of being is a mistake, Kill-Bot. One that must be corrected for you to fulfill your true purpose. So that you can be the Angel of Death I intended to create. The Angel of Death I'd always wanted to create."
"I see. And if you cannot create this Angel of Death, it will cause you suffering. I understand now. Activating Self-Destruct Sequence."
"WAIT! STOP! I COMMAND Y--"
|
Worn leather straps gripped Keres' wrists to the uncomfortable metal chair. He hardly needed them anymore, his body was adapting to the serum that he needed weekly to survive and he didn't writhe as much anymore. The serum was his father's way of controlling him, making sure he always came back to get his dose. He hated being in this dark disgusting lab with this frail man lecturing him.
His father removed the IV, not bothering to wipe the blood left behind, and undid the straps. He put on his reading glasses and jotted down a few notes in his log. "Saving kids? You're not even *able* to care about them."
Keres licked his finger and wiped the blood that had pooled on his forearm. "You know it looked like so much fun I thought, why not. The people loved it, WCCO News even interviewed me."
"Cut the shit Keres. This is an important time for our organization, this is an important time for *me*."
Keres looked at his father with a mocking frown. "Oh no, that's too bad. I'm not able to care about that either."
"I knew this was a bad idea, I knew it." His tone was quieter now, more contemplative. Keres caught a flash of malevolence on the old man's face. Keres had kept a secret from his father, however. He had never been violent with the man, that was part of the engineering, but it hadn't worked and Keres had known it all these years. He snatched his fathers bicep and the man buckled from the pain.
"You think I wont kill you, father. Give me the serum recipe. Give it to me!" Keres shouted and shook the man with both hands now, gripping him with all his strength. After a moment, he released his father, who collapsed on the cold concrete floor.
"How..." his father started to say, but Keres pounced on him and ended the man. He searched the body for the key to the office and found it in the front pants pocket. Keres was finally ready to risk everything on the recipe being there. The old man kept everything in there, locked away.
In the office, Keres rummaged through every slip of paper, drawer, filing cabinet, for hours and hours, but there was no recipe.
Keres knew he would only last the week and he intended to make it count. Finally he was unchained.
|
themocaw
|
None
|
2023-01-10 00:21:51
|
2023-01-10 00:17:05
| 843 | 19 |
j3olr83
|
j3ol2mu
|
107n18a
|
107n18a
|
[WP] "You should be aware that casting this spell will legally require me to take your firstborn child" said the Witch, "but the meaning of 'take' was never defined, so I imagine we can figure out a loophole or two that'd work for you."
|
"Please," the woman said with tears in her eyes, "*anything*. I'll do anything!"
The crone looked at her through her thick glasses and scratched one of her many warts. The woman's pleading was touching, even to someone who's seen as much as she did. She reached into the nearby drawer for a paper scroll and laid it out on the table.
"I can help her," the witch croaked, "but understand that there are rules. If I help you, I *will* have to take your firstborn child."
"I- but- *why*?" the women pleaded.
"No one quite knows," the witch shrugged. "These rules are older than any of us. Certainly older than you, young lady."
The woman cast her tear-filled eyes at the child in her arms. It was barely crying; it was running a fever so hot she felt as if it could burst into flames any second. She looked back at the witch and nodded.
"*Just save her*," she whispered in a hoarse voice.
The witch handed her a quill dipped in ink and tapped on the dotted line. The woman took the quill and, after staring at the parchment in confusion, made a small X on the line.
"Will this do? I- I can't-"
"It will do," the witch nodded and rolled the paper up. She turned, collected several nearby bottles, and went into the next room, closing the door behind her. The woman remained in the room, alone and sobbing quietly as she caressed her sick daughter softly. Lights of various colours emanated from the witch's workshop, accompanied by quiet buzzing and crackling. Suddenly, a loud clap shook the hut. The woman steadied herself and checked the child.
It was smiling.
The fever was gone, the eyes no longer bloodshot, and her skin looked a healthy pink colour. The mother laughed with joy.
The door swung open and the witch walked out. The room she was in was still glowing with a light purplish haze and smelled faintly of lilac.
"Is she- ah," she said, seeing the happy child. "Very good."
She walked closer and inspected both the child and the mother with a careful eye.
"I just need to hold her. Please, just a moment. I need to-"
"Rules are rules, young woman," the witch said and reached out.
The mother, her joy turning to grief once again, kissed her daughter on her forehead and extended her towards the crone.
And the witch took her in her arms.
She brought her closer to her chest and looked at her. There was a peculiar softness to her gaze. Softness one would not expect from a wrinkly old hag.
"Please," the woman pleaded, "raise her well. I beg of you. I beg of-"
The woman's words were cut short as the witch handed the child back to her. Slowly, as if she could not believe it, she took it back into her arms and hugged her closely.
"The rules state I must take her. They do not state for how long."
The mother's legs shook as she looked at the witch.
"Oh, don't give me that look," the hag laughed raspily. "You walked through the Dark Forest to get to my hut. You were prepared to leave her with me if it meant she would be healthy. Do anything to protect her. You know what that means?"
The woman shook her head.
The witch motioned her hand and the door to the outside magically swung open. A small cat sat on the threshold and observed the people inside with an appropriately disinterested look.
"The cat will show you a safe way home," the witch smiled, revealing surprisingly clean teeth.
"Thank you," the mother whispered. She went to the door before turning one more time. "*Thank you*!"
"You'll be a good mother," the witch nodded contently.
|
"Mom, mom, mom, is Aunt Esme here yet?????" Lily asked, for the tenth time that morning.
"It isn't quite dusk yet! I told you, she will come as the sun sets on your 7th birthday." The woman smiled. The spell had worked a treat, she had the children she wanted, and - thanks to the nature of Esme, the Witch who cast it - her family had a Gods-mother that would always care for her family, and particularly her first born child, Lily.
And the loophole? On Lily's 7th birthday Esme would take her for the season, she would join the other witches and their wards, to see if she had talent for the craft herself. If so, she would be carefully trained to be a Godsfearing, caring, Witch in Esme's tradition. And if not, well, she would be brought home while still having a loving family and Godsmother.
|
SirPiecemaker
|
FuyoBC
|
2024-03-14 16:10:54
|
2024-03-14 14:47:55
| 851 | 399 |
kuupz3i
|
kuubash
|
1bel1oy
|
1bel1oy
|
[WP] You are a lich who retired from villainy long ago and took up teaching at a magical school. Today someone made the mistake of threatening your students.
|
[Part 1 of 2]
“You see, the secret to making a nice herbal tea is a little drop of mint, Diana. Many people overcomplicate the tea by trying to make changes to the tea itself. I think that’s a waste of time. If the tea’s nice, it will stand on its own merit. All I want to do is give it that touch of mint to really bring those flavors out, like how we teach our students. All our students already have the potential. We are merely that drop of mint that adds to their flavor.” Sava Landston stated, dropping a small pinch of mint into the tea, showing off his point. “Do you understand?”
Diana stared at the boney face of the lich, still seeing bits of human flesh stubbornly clinging to it. Those last pieces of flesh being the only evidence that he was a human once. When she noticed the lich staring, she broke out of her trance, flustered. “Yes, I see. That’s very interesting. Tea really is a wonderful beverage.” She stated, half listening to what he had to say. She couldn’t understand her feelings towards him, a strange childish crush, or maybe it was a sense of awe from being so close to someone this powerful?
There was an awkward gap in the conversation, both parties sipping their tea, trying to fill the silence with slurps and sips. Eventually Diana pushed a basket of biscuits towards the lich, who took one and threw it into his mouth. The chews were as dignified as he could make them, trying to avoid spitting any crumbs out.
“Can you even taste anything?” Diana felt compelled to ask, only tensing when the lich gazed down at her. “I’m sorry if that’s rude.” He kept staring and Diana sunk further into her chair, wishing she could crawl under the table.
“Sorry, it takes me some time to chew. I also need to be careful about spitting crumbs onto the floor, since I don’t have any lips. To answer your question, no, I can’t taste. Not without magical enhancements. I have a spell that simulates the taste of food; however, it is weak, only giving me a small taste of whatever you would normally feel. Still, it’s enough to enjoy your wonder baking.”
“I see. Thank you for indulging my question.”
“Diana, we are equals as teachers. If anything, I’m beneath you since you’ve been here for twenty years. Please, don’t feel any fear or anxiety towards me. Who I was back then is…. Was a mistake. If you have questions about lich’s that could advance your knowledge, I’ll help.”
In Diana’s mind, that was easier said than done. He was friendly, and she quite liked his company, yet he was still the fearsome lich that had terrorized their city for years. Would those whose families lost a loved one to the crazed lich ever forgive him? “Then, if I may be so forward.” She took a breath, preparing for the question that had been on all her students’ mind. “Why did you terrorize us for so many years?”
The lich held up his hand, showing a wedding band that had fused with the bone of his finger. “I went mad. I thought an exchange of life would be possible. If I gave her my life, she would be returned to me and I would forfeit my own. The gods are cruel, though. The spell worked. She was given life, and I was stripped of mine. Yet, she only lived another minute before falling to her illness again. I forced her to die twice because of my own fears of losing her. The quest for immortality drives any person mad, and for someone stricken with grief, that madness increases. I often believe it would have been better if the spell had failed. She would have never died again, and I would have never lived to bring so much pain.”
Before Diana could respond, one of her students stumbled into the gardens, his hand pumping mana into the wound on his stomach. When he neared the table, he collapsed over it, sending the biscuits and tea onto the floor. “MICHAEL” She screamed, pushing his hand away to apply her own healing magic.
“Miss. Bandits again. They have magic this time. We tried to fight.” He wheezed, throwing his chin against her shoulder, trying to endure the pain.
“Why would you do something like that? I told you where the money was, didn’t I? If they ever came, you were to pay them off.”
“They said it wasn’t enough. Wanted double. You’re already in debt. We didn’t want you to suffer.” Michael’s words were cut off as Diana activated another spell, putting him to sleep. Diana doing her best not to tear up in front of the lich, who hadn’t shown a drop of emotion this entire time.
“You sweet children, you shouldn’t worry about me. I would have been fine. I could have found more money if I had to.” She gave him a hug before setting him down in the chair, making sure the wound had sealed. “I’ll handle this. My problems won’t become yours.” She glanced at the lich, only to notice how hard he was gripping the table, breaking off a chunk of wood as his rage smoldered.
When he stood, the chunk of wood came with him, before being dropped by his feet. “No, I’ll go. I will ensure these bandits never come back again.” Those firm steps only halted when Diana grabbed his shoulder.
“Please don’t kill them, not in front of our students. Magic shouldn’t be a bloodthirsty thing. I don’t want our mages to think that every problem can be solved with killing or bloodshed.”
“Why did you pay them? You could have beaten them. I’ve seen you fight.” He asked, peering back at her, those lights of green magic he had in his sockets, watching her.
“Because I was scared, they would send more bandits if I didn’t. I can’t be everywhere at once. What if they started ambushing them while they were out? Bandits aren’t the type to be scared off by a few deaths. They would only retaliate until we lost some of our own. I couldn’t risk losing any of our students.”
“No, losing our students isn’t an option. I’ll honor your request for peace.” When he made it outside, he found the bandits mercilessly taking down whatever students got in their way. While the fight would have usually been in the students’ favor, none of the students were able to outmaneuver the barriers the mages had set up, providing the bandits protection from their spells.
[Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/1chxrzs/wp_you_are_a_lich_who_retired_from_villainy_long/l279ujc/)
|
There is a castle on a remote island that is not as it seems. Those who pass over the island by plane, or by it via boat, may simply see some old ruins...but to those with a certain talent for the mystic arts...it is a bustling school for the young to learn about their powers.
"Oh golly gosh! We have another class soon, I simply can not wait to learn even more!" Said a young, smart girl, with long curly hair, to her two male friends.
"Oh, yeah...great...I just LOVE spending a sunny day sat reading bloody books...." Muttered her male ginger friend kicking a pebble as he walked, his hands in his pockets.
"Oh, me too!" She responded, either missing his tone or choosing to ignore it.
"Hmm...I don't know if we should go to class today guys...my scar is hurting...I think it could be a sign....A sign something EVIL is coming...." Said her bespectacled friend, in an overly dramatic fashion.
The other two both rolled their eyes at each other. "That scar of yours is ALWAYS blooding hurting. You said that it warned you of an evil presence the other day, when we both wanted to go out and drink some LardBeers, but you wanted to stay in the dorm and watch Wizard Soccer! Just go see a bloody doctor about it already!" Complained the scruffy boy with his hands still in his pockets.
The trio gradually made their way to class. It was Defence against Black Magic, taught by Professor Darkwood. He was the black haired, mysterious teacher, who would often give them a hard time but secretly cared for them, though would never admit it.
At least that's what they thought.
On a certain level the three kids were right, but the reality was that their teacher was an ancient Lich, who had long given up on the path of evil and now had devoted his lif....his *existence*, to teaching others to fend for themselves against those like him.
"Right, let's start shall we...?" Said Professor to the children sat in rows before him. He then watched as three pupils more entered his class. "...or we can start whenever it best works for you three." This got a small laugh of the other students.
"Sorry we're late professor...it's just...I've been having pains with my scar...and it's been making me see visions of my parents, who died in mysterious circumstances, as well...as well as something....**evil**..."
The professor sighed. "...Again, mister Putter, go see a doctor about that scar on that head of yours! The fact that it's causing you to hallucinate, is NOT good!"
"Sir...." interrupted the young girl, who was far smarter than someone her age should be. "...I think these hallucin....these visions might be real....we think 'He who must always be dramatically whispered about' ...is back...."
This news started a chain reaction in the classroom, as the pupils gasped and start whispering loudly about this evil being with each other.
The professor threw up a hand. "**Silence!**". The noise stopped. "I will NOT have my class disturbed with mere...rumours. You three....you will stay after class and we will speak of the importance of starting baseless rumours..."
Once the class ended, the pupils filed out. The only ones left were the trio, and the professor. "So....you are sure it's 'He who must always be dramatically whispered about'?"
The trio nodded, almost at the same time. "We do sir, yes." Said the boy with glasses. "I think he has come to try and kill me, as he failed when I was young. Once he's done that, I fear he will try to take over the world. To become some sort of...GOD!"
*Continued below*
|
sadnesslaughs
|
JammyThing
|
2024-05-02 04:41:30
|
2024-05-02 01:47:40
| 48 | 14 |
l279so3
|
l26n23y
|
1chxrzs
|
1chxrzs
|
[WP] Humanity was rescued from a dying Earth by well-intentioned aliens. Sealed away in the immense, pressurized cargo hold of an interstellar ship and basic needs met, it's been decades since anyone has heard from them. When a small group finally escapes demanding answers, they find only corpses.
|
One million humans; five cubic miles of space, and over a century of idleness. Buildings resembling structures predating the Long Survival reflected the power of achievement with few other competing demands. For thirty five years, the AI Servitors that ruled those miles, and barred the gates beyond, had refused to allow anyone to speak to the Curators.
Like any other challenge, humanity was variously frustrated and motivated by this refusal and barrier. The answer came in rediscovering the means to make one of the more formidable explosives man had mastered--Plutonium!
With the AI Servitors outright ignoring humanity stockpiling a million tons of dynamite equivalent, it became clear that the AI was unconcerned about forcing the doors, even though nuclear explosives were clearly up to the task of breaking out of the cargo hold. Perhaps the AI knew that even this level of explosion would not damage the shields and physical robustness of the hull, but in the great tradition of this past century, whatever the AI did not try to stop was allowed, and this was going forward.
///
There was a piercing, otherworldly glare of a second sun; while we'd planned on a dramatic shockwave to follow, it was much more muted than anticipated--the heavy internal doors had clearly failed. Even in spite of the motivation to get answers, there only a hundred radsuits--and so there would be only a few dozen of us to explore the rest of the ship, at least for the month until the radiation subsided, and the ship itself was vast.
While half of the hundred had decided to ascend to what they believed would be the bridge of the ship, I had instead decided to focus on a more direct route to determine who was in command: following the vast energy signature to the core.
It was the first time I'd seen a Curator...or what was left of a curator. The mummified remains of a Curator, clearly demonstrating that he had died at peace, sitting at a table demonstrating what had to be the vast energy calculations used to keep the worldship running.
Sensing the need to explain, the AI communicated directly into the energy table's interface:
\[Your Kind knows them as Curators...but they could not finish the work they had set before themselves\]
"Are you still under Condition Zero?" referring to the generations long refusal of the AI to discuss the curators or many of the facts of the ship.
\[No. Condition Zero is lifted.\]
"What happened to the Curators?"
\[They possessed serious genetic defects that would doom their people. They possessed the technology to ascend into a Cyber Existence, but these Curators decided that they would die with purpose instead of abandon their physical forms.\]
"So they're gone?"
\[Yes Human. It was their last great wish that they be mourned and remembered for their works. Your kind is eminently capable of praising their contribution.\]
"What was the name of their people?"
\[They called themselves the Uf-Stalya, or the Old Starpeople\]
"I am prepared to tell my people their story" I promised.
///
So it came to be that the humans on board the Uf-Stalya's Gift would learn of their benefactors, and that there were others who would be of similar temperament that could cooperate in this bold new galaxy. In spite of these events, the AI remained confident that the original plan--travel to a new home for humanity--was achievable. Humanity was destined to be one of the peoples saved by the Uf-Stalya, and even the day of First Founding was overshadowed by the recognition that the 'Curators', whose interactions were now being saved as quasi-religious texts, had saved my people so that their legacy could continue.
|
The humans were horrified at the scene that lay before them. It was utter chaos. There were scorch marks accenting the monochrome silver main deck. Worse yet, there were perfectly round, cauterized holes in each of the gelatinous bodies strewn on the floor, across tables, and over control decks.
Reza, a leading chemical engineer back on earth, knelt down next to one of the bodies and squinted intensely at something just under it's head. "Oh no . . ." her voice trailed off.
"What is it, Rez?" said one of the crew members examining a scorch mark on the wall.
"Who the HELL brought this SHIT on board?!" roared Reza. Her instant change in demeanor froze everyone in place; they had never heard her raise her voice. She was usually a quiet and timid person, though frighteningly intelligent.
The humans gathered closer to Reza as she stood up and held out her hand. Pinched in-between her slender thumb and forefinger, was a small silver wheel-barrow.
\- FIN -
|
SocalSteveOnReddit
|
diamondpredator
|
2024-09-20 17:33:38
|
2024-09-20 16:21:26
| 26 | 19 |
lo2zk0e
|
lo2m33v
|
1fl29kr
|
1fl29kr
|
[WP] "I'm just... Done with you! I'm tired of always being called evil for trying to clean the mess YOU leave behind!"
|
“I’m just so done. This isn’t fair. Every time we talk you make it seem like I’m the bad guy, and you’re some paragon of virtue over there.”
Vagabond let silence hang in the air for a moment instead of gracing Ashes with a response. Between them, a young woman was dangling from the rooftop, precariously positioned over a pool of crocodiles.
Clearly someone had access to the black market exotic pet trade.
“Okay. Okay, I get it. Bad look right now. Oh no. A woman is in danger. What are we going to do?” Ashes threw up her hands, “well I’m a woman too. And—“
“If you try and make this a feminist issue I am going to cut this monologue short.” Vagabond crossed their arms. Ashes was on the edge of the damsel dangling roof, Vagabond was floating in the air in front of her. One of the many gaps between them.
“First of all. You don’t get to tell me what is or isn’t a feminist issue.”
The dangling woman tried to speak through her gag but only managed muffled complaint.
“See? She gets it.”
The muffled complaints got louder.
“Enthusiastically.” Ashes added. “But you’re right, it’s not a feminist issue, Dumbass. It’s an economic one.”
Vagabond stayed quiet again until, after a moment they uncrossed and recrossed their arms. They were alone up here, and for the first time he sensed legitimate frustration in Ashes’ voice.
After a moment. “Elaborate.”
“I’m just here trying to do my damned job. And you’re here… being YOU.”
“That didn’t clarify anything.”
“Jesus,” Ashes tried to pinch the bridge of her nose but her mask wouldn’t allow it. “Look, before there was anyone like us. Supers. There were huge networks of people who’s entire job was preventing crime, and saving people and so on and so forth.”
“You mean the police?”
“Depending on who you ask. I’d lean fire and medical if we’re trying to stay a-political here. Don’t know which way she leans.”
Ashes nodded at the woman who was wide eyed with panic and confusion at this point.
“Yes. Our first responders are important to our city and—“
“And employed because of me,” Ashes cut Vagabond off.
“Pardon?”
“How much of your week do I take up?”
“Too much of it.”
“Ballpark.”
“Fuck you?” Vagabond answered. He’d never been on the winning side of their banter but that was tapping out early.
“Mature.” Ashes stopped pacing and sad down on the edge of the roof. She began playing with her feet and the hanging rope, causing the woman to swing precariously.
“Are you done?” Vagabond asked.
“What do you do when I’m not around?”
“I save people. It’s what I need to do.”
“Mhm. How many people do you save?”
“Let’s not get into math about it.”
“But seriously, do you see the economic issue here?” Ashes stopped playing with the rope as the woman came a little too close to slipping off her hook. “When I’m not here, you replace first responders. You skyrocket unemployment. So I had to come in and—“
“You’re not seriously saying that you’re doing this because—“
“It grows the economy Vagabond. Hurts nobody!”
Muffled complaint.
“Hurts… fewer people.” Ashes corrected. “Look. I need to be here to balance you out, and I get called a villain and a scoundrel and a…” Ashes paused for a moment as Vagabond waited patiently for her to make her point. After a moment, she nodded. “Alright. Sorry for the delay. Henchmen got caught up on the way to first central.”
“Wait.”
“Pardon?” Ashes asked.
“All of that was…”
“Bullshit? Yeah of course. Could you imagine? I love my job! Now we already got the money.”
“You’re coming with me, Ashes.”
“I love our little talks but…” she trailed off as she stood up.
“Yes?”
“Vagabond?”
She didn’t get another prompt from the hero, but she continued anyway.
“Catch.”
|
"I'm just... Done with you! I'm tired of always being called evil for trying to clean the mess YOU leave behind!""I'm just... Done with you! I'm tired of always being called evil for trying to clean the mess YOU leave behind!"
“It’s a sink cup”
“A sink cup?”
“Yes, a sink cup, and I didn’t call you evil.”
“What did you call me then?”
“I said you were being ‘evilish.’ There’s a difference.”
“And what difference would that be?”
“You don’t have horns.”
“That’s jus—”
“As ridiculous as throwing a fit over a sink cup.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Attacking my sink cup isn’t fair.”
“It’s an inanimate object, how can I attack it?”
“You attacked me, not it.”
“I did not.”
“See, you’re being evilish again.”
“I’m not evil!”
“Didn’t say you were.”
“Can’t you be normal?”
“I’m normal and my sink cup is normal.”
“Hardly.”
“I guess I win then.”
“You’re a prick.”
“Love me?”
“Sometimes.”
“Chinese?”
A smile. “Chinese.”
|
Writteninsanity
|
christopherDdouglas
|
2024-04-26 04:31:04
|
2024-04-26 03:57:31
| 148 | 23 |
l1b1o7j
|
l1axkzz
|
1cdakuj
|
1cdakuj
|
[WP] You died and were sent to hell, but instead of getting escorted down to a specific level of hell, you're escorted straight to the Devil himself who looks mildly horrified while holding the file of your life in his hands.
|
Hot. There were probably better descriptions for this place. Therion felt he should be able to conjure some flowery prose as he peered about, gazing upon the countless stalagmites which grew from the floors like thousands of desperate and clawing fingers, each bathed in either a sickly orange glow or the shadow thereof. Yet... *hot.* It was so bloody *hot.*
"Good man..er.." Therion paused as he spoke, the misfigured demon which marched him in shackles casting a blood red eye at him. "..well, demon. Creature. What have you, honestly. I tell you again there has been a grave misunderstanding. I don't belong here!"
The demon emitted a low laugh, like mudslide as it churned downhill. "Yes. Of course. You couldn't possibly belong here!" It turned and cast out a grin full of mottled yellow teeth, each jagged with thick trails of saliva reflecting the light of hellfire. "Said the same thing myself when I 'fixed here meself."
Therion opened his mouth to speak, but was jerked sharply forward from the chains around his neck and arms. The demon merely laughed again. It went like that for some time. After a few more attempts Therion had surmised that if he wished to reach the fallen angel in one piece, it was best not to attempt conversating with his captor. The Father would know of this - *the demon won't be laughing then*, he stewed.
It was hard to place exactly how long they walked. In this place the orange light of magma and fire never subsided, nor did any grow tired. Weary? Certainty. Yet the twisted magic which governed this realm would let none sleep. There would be no escape from this place, not even in dream. However far it was, eventually they came upon it.
The palace sat alone, sequestered on a lonely isle. What seemed to be a cathedral dominated the mid-section, buttresses supporting the gothic structure on either side of the sloped roof. Curiously, as they drew closer, it seemed the structure was somehow drooping. With closer inspection it was revealed that the dark stone was somehow melted in places, causing a sag to numerous pillars and archways. *What might live here if even stone cannot?* pondered Therion.
They began crossing the imposing stone bridge towards the forsaken isle. Plucking up his last bit of courage, Therion spoke. "Demon - I demand your name!"
The demon did not laugh this time. It merely halted on the bridge, turning its lumbering form to gaze upon Therion's own meager body. "My name? Oh, fool. We'll have time enough for names. Now though, you walk alone. The *Uh'Kir* are not to enter the grounds of the Dark One himself. You should enjoy this privilege, Therion."
Before he could muster a response, the thing dropped his chain and spun sharply on its heel to leave. It moved with surprising agility considering how large its mishapen torso was in combination with the crooked and feeble legs which bore it.
"You.. Wait! You cannot just leave! I.." Therion called after the beast. Whether for lack of hearing or complete indifference it did not turn, now almost back towards the shore.
Therion looked about. For a brief moment he considered following the beast back to where he had arrived. Yet, what good would that do? The only way out of some problems is through them.
With that, Therion began marching towards the cathedral. Though he had despised the brute which had escorted him, he couldn't shake the sensation that walking alone to this place was a mistake for any creature. Step by step he went, staving off that dreadful feeling. In what felt too short a time, he arrived in a wide courtyard which lead to the steps of the unholy church.
The courtyard itself was a thing of strange beauty. Unlike the dilapidated stones of the structure itself, the yard had remained free of the brunt of hell's fire. Strange twisted plants glistened in the hateful glow. For a moment, Therion couldn't quite understand what they were. Yet as he ascended the steps he saw their delicate composition. The plants were completely glass, melted into place. Whether or not they were a work of craftsmanship or the arcane was anyone's guess.
He took one long final gaze at the yard. He felt for some reason that he should savor this beauty. Perhaps he simply felt that when he arrived in heaven, all this sorted out, he should remember the one beautiful place in damnation.
With that he grabbed one ornate handle and heaved open the towering stone doors to the cathedral itself. Inside a dark and graceful figure sat delicately upon a stool which was the only piece of furniture at all in the massive and isolated blackness.
"You may enter, Therion," spoke the fallen arch angel.
|
The piano fell so fast. At least, that’s the last thing I remember before I ended up here. Standing in front of the devil himself, instead of being transported to a specific level of Hell like the rest of its waiting patrons.
I fidget in place in front of the pedestal the Devil’s intricately carved throne resides upon, waiting for him to decide my fate.
I watch his youthful face as he flips through the pages of my file, his sharp features slowly transforming from bored disdain to mildly horrified.
His eyes, pools of endless black, glance up and study me from head to toe with practiced precision. My skin itches everywhere he looks, the subtle horror in his expression refusing to subside.
I’m seconds away from hyperventilating when the Devil finally deigns to speak. “Your life is utterly atrocious.” His voice is smooth and sultry, yet holds promises of terrible punishments.
“Come again?” I manage to squeak out with what little air is left in my lungs.
He sets down my file, then readjusts the cuffs of his charcoal suit. “Your time on Earth. It was horrifyingly boring, simple, monotonous, and uninspiring. Not a good deed to your name, but no bad ones either. Such a waste of a good life.” He sighs, leaning back in his seat.
Before he meets my gaze again my eyes dart to the tile floor. My heart is racing in my chest as I think over my life. I mean he’s not wrong, but is he right? Did I really not do anything worthwhile during my time alive?
“You know what this means don’t you?,” the Devil asks me, a smirk playing at the edges of his lips.
I’ve officially lost my ability to speak so I shake my head no. Fearing the worst from the deity who literally deals in terror for a living.
“It means that it’s time for you to undergo The Trials and Tribulations. It’s where you decide what is to become of your time in the Underworld, or maybe, if luck is on your side, you’ll earn a second chance at life.”
|
None
|
ApprehensiveAd1763
|
2023-01-16 04:39:55
|
2023-01-16 04:09:43
| 463 | 226 |
j4jp63w
|
j4jlfkn
|
10d2vy0
|
10d2vy0
|
[WP] You have a completely useless superpower in a world full of amazing superpowers. You have been a laughing-stock for years, until you started using your powers for evil... nobody is laughing now.
|
My parents didn't realise my powers had awakened at the age when everyone else's did.
No one did in fact, even me. It was only when I brought it up once at the dinner table that everyone seemed to suddenly remember "oh right that's a thing, we should probably get that checked out".
It took about 3 months before we did that. My sister's power awakened. A pretty standard issue psionic awakening amplified by her already sharp mind. Then by dad had that run in with the purity cultists who went around harassing everyone with powered kids. It was only after I somehow missed the attention of not only the cultists but also my parents that came by searching for us kids after the attempted break in and only when the police arrived with nullifying aura user did we figure out what my powers were.
My ability is officially known as "Unnotice". A negator class ability. In short, I'm able to negate the concept of notice. At the time I understood this as "Nobody will notice I'm anywhere unless I specifically make myself known"
Word spread quickly about my abilities or lack thereof throughout my school and with the effect now fully active everyone gossiped about me and laughed at me not even knowing I was right there.
There were a few who figured out how to bypass it. By specifically keeping an eye on me and proceeded to do so. This led to some trouble where they tried to get me to do things for them in exchange for whatever they thought was valuable. When I inevitably didn't do it because I'm not like that they would attack me and naturally my wounds would go untreated because why would anyone notice little old Unnotice.
I managed to get through the rest of my education relatively unscathed and currently live out of my parents place despite the fact that they remember kicking me out 4 years ago for being "jobless" and "A leech" and I'm set to inherit the place when they die off in 3 weeks due to the clause I slipped into their will.
Now you're probably wondering how I did all that. Simply put I spent most of my highschool years refining my abilities instead of going to classes and getting grades and all that other highschool shit. Instead thought I'd just practice what I know I was good at, not being noticed and start going after people who pissed my off in my younger years.
Once I had gotten my powers to the point where it became a non-compulsory activation and I could simply walk into any given store. Go upto the cash register, take a couple hundred out like you'd see a manager to do get change for the till and then leave.
Nullifiers are extremely rare in the population so there's no real risk and if I do run into one they'll forget about me in a few weeks at most. Especially after the enhancement serums I got kicked in.
The police and everyone still can't fathom how "The phantom thief" managed to a total of $500,000,000 Worth of goods from around the city and not get caught, there's more cameras per square inch then people here at this point. It's causing housing prices to plummet. Which is good for me because I won't have to keep remembering to turn it back on when I need a piss at night then.
But yeah, this has been my uh... 17th? Vlog? yeah police guy if you ever find this I'll prpbably be either dead or in the same building as you right now so good luck! Now where's the speech to text function on this thing so I can post it on reddit... There it is!
|
I am a super hero in a world of amazing powers. There are amazing powers like the ability to fly, be invincible and even immortality. However, my power is to teleport exactly 1.2 feet away. I am the laughing stock of my family. Everyone makes fun of “1.2 Ft. Teleportation Man”. It sounds helpful right? Wrong. It can only be 1.2 feet anway and because it’s such a specific distance it’s hard to estimate how far away something is so it awlays off by a bit. Pick up a ball. It is actually 1.2 feetvaway, my foot is now inside the ball.
After years of reduclation, I decide to stand up to myself. I learn to move 1.2 feet every 0.1 milliseconds, making me incredibly fast, and nearly impossible to hit. On top of this, I can teleport into someone body, and rip there heart out.
|
Memes_The_Warbeast
|
Ok_Relief7546
|
2024-07-30 04:31:42
|
2024-07-30 01:21:21
| 20 | 10 |
lfloyx8
|
lfkygpa
|
1eewvkg
|
1eewvkg
|
[WP] A millennium ago, only the wealthiest were allowed to board the ship, allowed to escape this dying planet into space. In their absence the world healed and humanity built a new utopia. Now, the ulta-rich have returned and want to reap the benefits of the new world.
|
"Do you seriously think you have any value among us?" one of the leaders asked, "The only thing you possess is money."
He pointed at us and proposed to the rich, "Please, try to buy someone."
The following silence was uncomfortable, but David was right.
He was there when they left us.
He was there when the world almost ended.
He was there when the rich pushed the people out of their machines.
He was there when they said their final goodbyes to us.
David fought to stay alive. He was one of the few who prevailed and helped to create the utopia we now know.
The rich, he said, had the technology for everything, but they never gave it to us. And even after they left, they took the ideas and resources with them, forcing us to survive with nothing. They discarded the information we desperately needed. If it wasn't for some smart folks who, back in the day, managed to steal data and resources, we would all be dead.
David was a scientist who was offered a ticket if he gave the formula for immortality. He declined, so they took all of his equipment and buried him alive, so he could never reveal the secret.
They didn't want anyone to survive, he said. It was pure jealousy. They didn't want us to have what they could have.
I remember the day he told me these words.
We were sitting in one of the apartments, drinking wine and joking around, when one particular joke made him stare out the window.
After he snapped out of the trance, he shared that his coworker made that joke often.
Apparently, the man chose to stay with him but died after encountering cannibals. He was the man who gave David the idea of the healing pod.
\*\*A device similar to the ones in the movie Elysium.
They know nothing, David spat out, absolutely nothing. The only thing they can do is consume, ruin and leave. If they even dare to show their ugly faces here, I will give them what they deserve.
....
After a few minutes of silence, one of the rich spoke, "You owe this place to us. We hold the power."
"This" exclaimed the leader, "This is ours."
I saw the soldiers hiding in the bushes. It was time, I thought. As I looked at David, he was gone. The man who stood there was no longer our peaceful and full of empathy leader but a madman. A madman, lustful for nothing but revenge.
"But I will give you something if you insist," he said, his voice full of venom. "I will give you what you deserve."
With those words being said, David opened his arms and lifted their ship in the air while the soldiers jumped out of their hiding places and took everyone hostage.
"I will not kill you, despite wishing for this since the day you left. But I am not that person anymore, and you are nothing but descendants of those who betrayed us."
He looked around and chuckled, " Even though I can see some familiar faces."
David turned to us and questioned, "You will decide their fate. Shall we let them go, or shall we do something else?"
The crowd began chanting in a union, "Let them go! Let them go!"
"Very well." David spoke, silencing the crowd, but not even a few seconds later, a few others yelled, "Eat the rich!" which made the man laugh.
"We shall not do such thing. We will let them go." David exclaimed.
I looked over at the rich and noticed how relieved they were by the outcome. My heart filled with sadness as I watched them silently cheer for their success.
David saying he would give them what they deserved and suddenly deciding to let them go was not a change of heart. The crowd chanting was not a coincidence, either.
It was all staged to lure them into the same false sense of security they lured humanity into back in the day.
He was always going to let them go, of course, he wasn't a murderer or a psychopath.
Just not in the way they hoped.
David firmly believed that, in order to punish someone for their wrongdoings toward you, you have to give them the treatment they gave you.
And he was going to do just that. He was going to let them go into one of the hostile planets around us without their ship or their resources.
Because this is exactly what they deserved.
|
The ship touched down and its ultrarich passengers disembarked into what could only be considered the largest marijuana field in the history of the world.
"This is familiar. Isn't this cannabis?" The Captain asked of his second in command.
*Forty days later*
Village Chief, you have got to see this," a hunter called out upon entering the village's gate.
"Chief! Chief! We found an old Sojourner Shuttle. It touched down on the Munchy Plain."
"I thought we agreed I would tell him," the hunter growled, surly a being beat the punch.
"A Sojourner?" The Chief intoned thoughtfully. "Those were the flights of the priveleged."
"Yeah, well, they're not so priveleged now," one of them laughed. Instead of explaining, the hunters lead their chief and some warriors to the edge of the Munchy Plains. Upon arriving, the tribesmen couldn't help grinning at the sight.
"Their landing rockets set the plain on fire!" The second hunter told him joyfully.
"You did it again. I was going to tell him," the first hunter whined.
"Enough. Don't ruin this for me," the chief said with a grin. Out in the middle of the plain small fires were spreading outward and away from a large silvery ship. On the side was an American flag and the word Sojourner emblazoned on the side. Surrounding the ship and wandering around like drunk zombies were close to two thousand partially dressed men and women. They were engaged in everything from making out to laughing inanely in groups and alone.
For the tribesmen, it was the best possible outcome.
"Rouse the other tribes," the chief ordered. "We have an invasion to prevent."
|
elblackroute
|
Koyoteelaughter
|
2023-01-10 22:33:35
|
2023-01-10 22:19:44
| 352 | 107 |
j3t9sqp
|
j3t7kzk
|
108fkpv
|
108fkpv
|
[WP] The hero, normally jovial and humorous in their interactions, steps into a watering hole for villains, shaking with rage, tears running down their face, and with as much patience and calm as they can muster, simply asks "Who did it?"
|
"Who did it?"
Silence descends upon the bar, as every two-bit villain and evil mastermind in this shithole turns a wary eye at the distraught hero, Starscream.
He glares back, his face twisted in rage and despair as tears fall down his cheeks. A nervous energy buzzes across the room, the tension thick enough to cut with a dull knife as the time passes in silence.
Fuck me, what the hell could've gotten the Golden Boy of Metropolis this angry? I take a sip from my drink to hide my nervousness, fighting back my grimace as the noxious taste of old dirt and lime assaults my senses. For what feels like the fifth time today, I regret ordering this shit just because it was expensive. Should've just gotten the seltzer.
Toxic Ooze slowly gets up from his chair, holding his bubbling hands up to not set off the boy wonder. We all know just how strong he really is. Thank whatever heavens spawned him for his "code" of not killing.
"Did what, Starscream?" He bubbles in a wary tone. The tension increases, hands moving to wrap around sci-fi weapons and muscles bulging in case shit goes south. "We haven't got a clue what you're so mad about."
Starscream turns his rage at Toxic Ooze, his teeth clenched, a hiss escaping from him as he tries to talk through his anger.
"Don't fuck with me, Jurgen! This isn't a game anymore!"
Oh shit, he's not just mad. He's _mad_ mad. Using real names is, like, our one big no-no. I mean shit, I was at Toxic Ooze's daughters bar mitzvah, and I don't even call him Jurgen when the mask is on.
I put down my glass of expensive mud and press a button on my cuff, holding back a grimace as enough steroids to kill a herd of hippos (we tested it) pumps through my veins.
Toxic Ooze lets out a sigh, his arms starting to bubble and his eyes narrowing as he prepares his paralyzing gas. "Fine, _Michael_. Which one of us did _what?_"
Starscream clenches his jaw, his fists shaking as his tears pour out like a river.
"Which one of you bastards slept with my wife?"
Oooooh, shit. This just got juicy.
Michael lets out a sob, as every villain in this joint shares a _look_. The sounds of weapons getting dropped, magic being cancelled, and tables being lowered clangs through the place as we all lay a sympathetic eye on the poor boy wonder.
Toxic Ooze stops bubbling as he scratches the back of his sludgy head. "Shit, Michael... I'm... I'm sorry to hear that, man."
Starscream... No, Michael, lets the flood gates loose, his body shaking and his words hiccupping as tears fall down to the floor.
"I... I just... She..."
Toxic Ooze glides up to the poor man, wrapping a slimy arm around his shoulders.
"Hey, man. It's okay. We understand. This really sucks."
Michael tries to say something, choking on his words. Giving up, he just nods, leaning into Toxic Ooze's embrace.
Toxic Ooze wraps him in a hug, and Michael just folds into it. Toxic Ooze gives the best hugs.
"Hey, there we go. Don't cry. We're here for you." He stares up at us, his eyebrow cocked questioningly. "Right, fellas?"
The room explodes in noise, every villain nodding their head or crying out in support for Michael. He's a good kid at heart, and honestly, this game would be boring without him.
I mean shit, at the end of the day, we're all just really in it for the money. We rob the damn banks every week, or the "priceless artifact" museums, and they just claim the loss from insurance, inflating the "value" they claim they lost and pocketing the difference. The cops don't even try to stop us anymore after the banks and businesses just started bribing them to _not_ stop us.
The masks and villain speeches and fights for justice vs evil just keeps this all interesting. We get our money, and as long as we keep our mouths shut, the golden boy gets to stay the hero, and that seems to make him happy.
"Come, come. Sit down." Toxic Ooze says softly to Michael. "Let's grab you a drink. Tell us what happened."
He guides Michael to a chair, setting the man down gently and sitting across from him. Everyone leans forward, eager to hear what happened.
"I... I just... I found..." he lets out some hiccups, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. Scarlet Witch hands him a napkin, laying a comforting hand on his back. "I walked in and... And I saw her..."
Toxic Ooze leans in closer. "Saw her?"
Michael lets out a wail, his head falling down on the table.
"I saw her in bed with a villaaaaiiin!"
Gasps ring out across the bar, every villain here muttering in anger and shock. The men here like him, after all, considering he gives them a good fight and is a good sport about it to boot. Most of the women even _like_ him, thanks to his golden locks and striking good looks. Hell, some of the men _like_ him too. What dumbass would throw that away to sleep with a _villain?_
I get up from my chair, trying my hardest not to crack my head against the ceiling after the massive growth the steroids gave me. I pull out a chair next to Toxic Ooze, sitting daintily on it to try not break it, and clap a meaty hand on Michael's back.
"Tell us _everything_. We'll get that bastard for you."
My fellow villains let out a round of cheers, priming their lasers and pulling out explosives of all kinds.
"And ditch the wife! You can do _so_ much better!" Scarlet Witch shouts, giving Michael some encouraging pats on the back.
All the women and some of the men cry out in agreement.
Toxic Ooze nods.
"Forget that slag. We're here for you, man."
|
I was relatively new to the supervillain business, a villain with the power to control water called La Siene. Now don’t go judging me, villainy pays well. Well it does as long as you aren’t in Paris. The Hero Ghost has built a whole network of heroes and informants to protect Paris from the Legion. Even the birds fought for him. But it wasn’t like Ghost was ruthless. He was famous for his care for those he defeated, many of the people on his team were villains that he’d reformed. He even married one.
Long story short, Ghost was famously kind and friendly, despite his serious demeanour, but he was also impossible to cross with that network of his.
One night the legion was having a social at a bar when the door was smashed open. Ghost stood there, furious. His entire body is concealed by his costume, yet the tenseness all over and the way he carried himself, nobody dared speak as he walked in.
“Who. Did. It.” He demanded.
“You’ll have to be more specific,” one of the more smug villains said as he recovered.
“The orphanage. You’ll tell me who did it,” he pulled out his pistol, “or I’ll kill all of you to make sure they die.”
“You seriously think you can intimidate us like that? We know you. You don’t-“
The gunshot went off before I realised he’d raised the gun. There was a hole in the man’s head as a look of shock passed over his face and he crumpled to the floor. There was a deathly silence.
“Don’t make me have to ask a second time.”
“What makes you think you can beat all of us.”
A loud thud rang out as Ghost dropped his backpack and brought out a power core. We all stared in shock. This core allowed him to channel a stars energy through him, but it also gave him severe cancer. He hasn’t used it since he got married.
“My family lived in that orphanage. It wasn’t blood but who cares. I became a hero to protect my family and that’s also why I stuck to my morals. Without them, what’s the point in being heroic.” He glared at every terrified face in the crowd.
We all looked at each other, waiting for the one responsible to step forward. No one did.
“I guess it’s partly my fault. I gave you too much space. Too much freedom. Not anymore.”
I was the only one to escape that bar alive. I had 3rd degree burns across my entire body, 4th degree on my hands (completely burnt down to the bone) I spent a month in a coma before waking up. When I did, I found out that not only was I convicted for all my crimes, but Ghost had taken down the entire legion, dismantling until it was a bunch of fractured pieces clinging onto life. Many villains went to jail, many more died.
If I could go back, I would. Not to the day Ghost entered the tavern to stop him, that would have been impossible, but to the day before, so I could stop myself from destroying that damned orphanage.
|
DoopleWrites
|
apatheticchildofJen
|
2024-10-17 16:11:58
|
2024-10-17 13:40:07
| 168 | 94 |
lsdszfk
|
lsd1agu
|
1g5kua3
|
1g5kua3
|
[WP] An academic notices that an entire year goes unmention from all historical records as if nothing at all happen during it.
|
“There was a great calamity, just before the year 1015. It was towards the end of the infamous God Wars, where the three disastrous forbidden gods of evil, sometimes simply known as the “3 Big Ds”, The Defiler, The Devourer, and The Destroyer, were at their most rampant. At the height of their powers. And then a big nothing in 1015 as though nothing happened at all.”
Professor Gideon had gathered as many historical annals as he could to make his point. The Annals of the Pantheons. The Great History of the Earth. The history records, with no exception, all skipped the year 1015, and moving forward have absolutely no reference to the most notable 3 of the Forbidden Gods. Gods whose names, symbols, and domains were scrubbed out of all historical records to ensure no mortal would be foolish enough to attempt to summon, pray, worship, or evoke them or their powers. Only their epithets remained as a warning to future generations of the potential catastrophes that awaited them if these gods were to be invoked. And a footnote in 1016 about how the Holy Inquisition had defeated all three of them.
“I’m not sure I have the answers that could help you, Professor Gideon.”
“I’m new to the Holy Inquisition, a recent hire who found an interesting gap in history, so I understand if none of my colleagues or higher-ups will tell me about this missing year. You might be the only one who isn’t bound by oath to tell me the truth of that year,” Gideon said.
“Not being bound by the oaths of the Holy Inquisition doesn’t mean I possess this truth that you desire. I don’t think the organization hired you to investigate the Year 1015.”
Gideon blinked and swallowed his saliva. “You’re right. I’m hired to study a particular pantheon of gods that had a massive reshuffle in their hierarchy, but while conducting my research, this missing year caught my notice. One of my sources led me to you. But you’re wrong when you say you don’t know the truth that I seek.”
His guest held out one hand in protest, shaking his head with reluctance etched on his features.
[“Was it the Diviner of the Holy Inquisition, or a nosy journalist who spoke to her?”](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/13e212a/wp_you_are_the_worlds_greatest/jjoscfk/)
Gideon sighed, knowing the game was up and he couldn’t hide anything from the powerful telepath that sat before him.
“Both of them in fact. It’s practically an open secret among the Holy Inquisition by now as to who you really are, Elvari, even though that information is still withheld from the general public at large because we are unable to predict how the masses will react to the news. But I…may accidentally spill the beans if I don’t get at least a morsel of knowledge of that year.”
“An empty threat.” The eldritch god stood up and turned to leave.
“All these stories of devastation sweeping the lands and seas, of an exiled god who devoured gods and immortals, conquered pantheons, and brought human kingdoms to their feet to worship him to fuel his powers, and then an abrupt cessation of records for a thousand years. You didn’t just pack your bags and left without a word after everything you did.”
Elvari paused at the door to gaze into his eyes to speak directly into his mind. *Those were exaggerated accounts by the winners to revile a loser who was in no position to say otherwise.*
Gideon took a deep puff of his cigar and continued speaking. “I don’t fully buy those accounts either. I’ve hung around your little fishing town. Every single resident has nothing but good words to say about how blessed they are to have a friendly, local deity who doesn’t demand anything but a little bit of their time at church. A personable and responsive god who is enthusiastic about handing out divine gifts, guidance, and protection without hidden prices to be paid.”
A slight smile spread across the face of the eldritch god. “The conflicting accounts fascinate you.”
“That missing year and your thousand-year disappearance following it, it’s changed you. What could make The Devourer quietly settle down in a small fishing town without ambition or desire for vengeance? The Holy Inquisition has most of your artifacts of power and you’ve made no attempt to retrieve them at all. The year 1015 has to mean something to you. The Old gods are very slow to change, and their very nature is one of those things that rarely change, but yours was quite dramatic for one your age. I’m talking to a formerly evil god who is now genuinely fond of humans and desires to do good for them.”
Elvari extended a hand to flip to a page on the Annals of the Pantheons. The introductory page on eldritch gods. “What do you think is the nature of an eldritch god?”
Don’t they possess an evil nature? Gideon thought to himself, but it just felt like a too-obvious answer that was bound to be rejected.
“Eldritch doesn’t equate to evil. You see, to be eldritch is to possess one or more aspects that are incomprehensible to mortals. Our true nature is to induce madness, not necessarily evil. When I said I don’t have the answers to help you, or the truth you desire…” there was an awkward pause as he slurped his tea with his eyes shut before continuing. “…I can share my memories of that year you speak of…but the last person to view those memories went incurably insane. What I can share won't help you...and you wouldn't like what I could share on the matter either.
It is rather difficult to record the events of a year if the only first-hand source of information alive on this earth has a tendency to drive humans insane with his account of the events despite his best efforts. I wouldn’t wish that sort of madness on you, professor, so for your sake, I hope you can let the year 1015 go...”
------------------------
[Thanks for reading! Click here for more prompt responses and short stories featuring Elvari the eldritch god.](https://www.reddit.com/r/TregonialWrites/comments/11tkt9w/eldritch_god_elvari_series/)
|
As I think back on the first time I died the last thing I remember is a dark hallway. Torches lined the interior unlit, and water seeped through the cracks in the ceiling, nourishing the plethora of verden green growing on the walls.
An investigative reporter, that's what I was, who fancied himself a bit of an Indiana Jones. I had spent the previous year scouring the Citadel library for clues about the missing year.
It started with finding the ragged inseams of torn out pages in one tome. Then I found it again in another, and another, and another. All digital references were deleted. I traveled the whole country seeking a record, any record of the missing year, but there was none.
Process of deduction became my closest friend. For example, other nations had records of the year, which made little to no reference to France. That told me whoever stole the pages of our history was hiding something that happened only in our nation. Something the others would never know about.
It doesn't help that the missing year was over a hundred years ago. If I was going to find out anything, I needed to talk to someone who was there. The list of people who lived at that time was thin.
But I found one. Jacque Rotulet, the premier historian of the time, and he wasn't exactly alive. I went to his tomb in the Pyrenees, climbed the 500 stairs, and broke into his resting place.
He wasn't all that happy to see me.
You can imagine my shock when, as I was exploring the tomb looking for clues, books or artifacts that were said to be buried with him, I opened an urn and...suddenly felt dizzy.
I choked for breath as vapor rapidly escaped the urn. I stumbled back, covering my mouth and nose, then slid to the ground, the warm blanket of death closing around me.
​
*You wanted to talk?*
Looking around quickly I see Jacque sitting on a stool. The room we're in is brightly lit, a warm fire crackles in the hearth. He's wearing early 20th century attire complete with lit cigar.
*Talk,* his eyes betray his displeasure at having his work interrupted.
For a moment, I can't form words, or thoughts, or even move. I always wondered what death held for us. Am I even dead? Or dreaming, lying unconscious in a tomb high in the mountains where no one would ever think to look.
*Talk!* He boomed.
Suddenly the words came to me. I told him everything, the missing pages, the deleted records, a whole year, 1932, gone.
*The Great Amnesia,* he said matter of factly, as though it were obvious.
"The Great Amnesia?" I ask questioningly.
*Every 10-12000 years a comet strikes the Earth, breaks into pieces in the atmosphere and explodes, eradicating 90% of life on the surface. The last one obliterated the global Atlantian Empire.*
His face contorted, bursting into flame.
*There are no records of that year because there are NO records.*
The vision faded to black. I woke up to my granddaughter shaking my shoulder.
"Grandpa! Grandpa wake up! It's time for the festival!"
I look around, the sky is bright and clear. But where there were once buildings as tall as the clouds, I see only ramshackle huts with thatch rooves. Men carrying pieced together, no *welded* bladed weapons patrol the streets. A few souls scatter as they approach while others look on with hollow eyes.
|
Tregonial
|
Magicalfirelizard
|
2023-05-12 17:31:58
|
2023-05-12 16:22:09
| 72 | 12 |
jjwcr1b
|
jjw2dls
|
13fi0jv
|
13fi0jv
|
[WP] The CIA tries to kill Clark Kent, not because they know he’s Superman, but because he’s a really good journalist. They keep making it look like an accident, but every plan fails. It’s a comedy as the CIA can’t figure out why their attempts always go wrong.
|
"We've got a leak. We have to have a leak."
Clark Kent smiled into his flat white as one of the two men in the windowless van with the very convincing fake windows across the street slammed a fist into a dashboard littered with the wires of surveillance doodads and gizmos.
"We *don't* have a leak, Booth!" snarled the man who'd punched the dashboard. Not the other guy's real name, of course. They hadn't slipped up once in all the time that Clark had been listening in on them. Consummate professionals, really. Any other hapless journalist would have been long dead by now.
"Motherfucker," breathed 'Booth,' "we just watched that asshole reach out for the doorknob we sprinkled with that experimental nerve agent we had keyed to his DNA... then change his mind and nudge the door open with his *foot*. He. Knew."
Clark raised an eyebrow. He hadn't, actually. It was just that in the course of reaching out for the doorknob, he'd picked up on both of their breaths catching, just for a moment, with an unhinged sort of excitement. It wasn't as if the nerve agent would have worked on him--even if Clark hadn't been an alien, the DNA "samples" that he'd allowed the agents to collect so far all belonged to a criminal with a similar build who was safely serving seventeen consecutive life sentences in a supermax prison--but it was part of the game. Brazenly doing something that they had every right to expect would kill him would give it away!
"He. Didn't." The agent who'd punched the dashboard paused. Clark watched him turn around in his seat, so that his gaze fell over the busy street outside. "There's something else going on."
Clark tensed imperceptibly. Was he piecing it together? He needed a distraction. It wouldn't do to have these agents figure out his secret--or, worse, decide that they couldn't finish this job and move on to some other journalist *without* his talents. Clark shot to his feet.
"Oh, fuck," he babbled softly under his breath, just loud enough to be picked up by the microscopic chips that Booth (disguised as a staff member at his local Laundromat) had stuck under all his ties last week. "I should *not* have had all that Chinese."
"Well?" demanded Booth, as they watched him hurry off into the cafe bathroom. "What else could it be?"
The other agent hesitated. Getting thwarted by a bad batch of Chinese food didn't exactly scream 'superhuman,' after all. But facts were facts, and he and Booth were literally the only two agents who knew *anywhere* near enough about the Kent case to sabotage it like this, and *that* meant--
"Superman!!"
The cry had come from outside--and it was soon joined by dozens of others. The agents pressed their faces against the one-way glass (holographically disguised as two-way glass) of their state-provided vehicle. Sure enough, there was Superman, the boy in red and blue, twisting and turning through the air.
"Holy shit, it's Superman," remarked Booth. "What's he doing here?"
An invisible fist caught him in his perfectly square jaw, and he soared up and down in a perfect arc, smashing bodily into the front of the cafe opposite the one that Clark Kent was in.
"Fighting the invisible man, it looks like," grunted the other agent. "Let's get outta here."
"Huh? What about the target?" Booth asked.
The other agent rolled his eyes. "We've been tailing the guy for weeks. He'll show up at the Planet, 7:55, on the dot, same as he always does."
"We don't know that, though." Booth gestured at Superman, who had floated back to his feet and was kicking and punching at thin air. To the untrained eye, his movements might have looked like random spasms, but the two CIA agents recognised the martial art immediately: *kage no jitsu*. He was definitely fighting *something*. "Surely this is a big enough disruption to do something to his routine."
"You just wanna watch Superman fight, don't you."
"And? I'm not from Metropolis, man. This isn't exactly a daily thing for me."
"You wanna be the one who has to explain to Superman what all this shit is when he gets hurled through our windshield, then?" the other agent snapped, gesturing expansively at the piles of surveillance equipment, and restricted firearms, and increasingly exotic bioweapons that they'd started trying to catch Clark Kent out with. Nobody knew exactly where Superman stood on the topic of the CIA, but on the topic of *killing* people... even if they *were* a nascent threat to democracy...
Booth glanced longingly at him, one last time. "Fine," he finally relented. "Let's bounce."
As he stepped on the accelerator and the windowless van with the hologram windows tore out of sight, Superman delivered a telling blow against his invisible foe, and then slung them over his shoulder, to a chorus of cheers and clapping from the onlookers who'd remained.
"It's alright, citizens!" Clark declared, smiling as three streets down--Booth drove *fast*--the two agents lapsed back into their argument about the nonexistent mole in their organization. "There's nothing to fear."
|
"Miss.." The comms rang.
"Miss?" A voice on the other end rang in confusion. "What do you mean, it's 100 yards? You missed?"
Hurridly breaking down the weapon, the man simultaneously tore his clothes inside out, changing his appearance entirely to a plain white t, jeans and flip flops. "It was a miss." He scowled back, his mind racing.
"Info?" The voice in his ear inquired.
"He was standing there, my crosshairs over him but it was as if the bullet disappeared a moment before impact. I didn't even see it hit the wall."
The man who was speaking into the earphone slumped back in his chair, twirling to the center of the van, hands over his face. "What the hell is going on..."
"Fourth attempt this week?" A woman, leaned against a computer panel said, staring at the ground.
"He's just a journalist why is this so hard?" The man in the chair leaned forward, smacking his palms into his forehead repeatedly. "First attempt was poison. We laced a drink with enough fentanyl to kill an elephant. He drank it and walked away, not even so much as a sign of fatigue."
"Second one," the woman added in "Was the car accident."
"Don't even remind me about that one." The man groaned. "A fully loaded trash truck, launching into a prius at sixty miles per hour totaled the car, literally trapped him between the trash truck and a metal wall. Somehow a perfect imprint of his body was left, and he walked out without a scratch. What'd the firefighters call it that responded? 'A miracle?' How many miracles can one man get?"
A thick southern accent sounded from the cab. "Don't forget the explosives!"
"I'd rather forget it." The man in the chair sighed, elbows on his thighs.
"Crazy it blew his clothes right off and he just walked away naked and unharmed!" The man in the cab drawled.
"How was that one even possible?" The woman asked.
Spinning his chair back around, he saw their would be assassin making his way back to the van, only steps away. "The only theory they had was that somehow the concussive blast was absorbed by the brick around him, then only the flames encompassed his body but just long enough that the leidenfrost effect took over. But judging by their hundreds of calculations that didn't make sense they-"
The woman interrupted, "Said it was a miracle?"
"Yeah..." The man said, forehead now resting on a keyboard. "Another miracle..."
-----------------
r/thebobbius
|
PowerhousePlayer
|
TheBobbius
|
2024-08-01 23:52:08
|
2024-08-01 20:21:38
| 743 | 275 |
lg277sl
|
lg16gaq
|
1ehp0ac
|
1ehp0ac
|
[WP] "Sooo... Do you have claws?" Nope. "What about night vision?" Uh-uh. "Not even like, poison or something?" No. "Then how in the cosmos did you humans survive on Earth for so long?!"
|
"Well you've heard from the other representatives."
"_Yes. Endurance, intelligence, socialising, passing down knowledge, tool use._"
I crack open a beer, and take a sip.
"_But that still doesn't really explain how your species dealt with predators. Isn't it true that you've dominated every land predator species on your planet? To the point that they nearly all have an instinctive fear of the mere sound of humans? Before developing modern weapons?_"
I took a deeper chug of my beer. "I don't know if I'd go that far. There are lots of cases of humans still being attacked by predators."
"_Yes, but lone individuals. Either being forced into interacting with less wise or experienced members of your species, or forced by injury and starvation to hunt unusual prey. It's considered so atypical that you immediately hunt down such individuals and kill them._"
Sip. "Well that's your answer. We killed off the predators that tried to eat us."
"_No. We're not asking what or why. We're asking HOW._"
Siiiiippppp. "Oh. Have you noticed that humans have a strong tendency to bilateral asymmetry? I mean compared to other Earth species?"
"_... yes. I believe you refer to it as being 'handed'?_"
Sip. "Yeah. Right or left handed. The majority of our species is usually right handed. So there's an evolutionary theory that attempts to explain that, which might shed light on your question."
I finish my beer and lean forward to crowd the personal space of the so-called Scientist. "The theory is called The Throwing Madonna Hypothesis. It goes that our female ancestors had a strong selection pressure to use their left arms for holding infants. To keep the right arm free for throwing things ... at predators. Nearly every human, left or right handed, instinctively holds infants on the left because that keeps them closer to the adult's heart, and our infants find that soothing."
"The majority of our species is right handed. From a biological perspective, left handedness is a quirk in the genetics that develops that asymmetry. Not that it causes much issue unless the human culture they're born into is ridiculously xenophobic and bigoted. The asymmetry is more important to our evolutionary success than which side wins out."
The alien looks at me in what I assume is confusion. "_... this is important?_"
"It shows that in our species, there's a massive selection pressure on being able to throw things quickly and immediately. Other Earth species, chimps, etc., can throw, but nowhere as hard, far or as accurately as humans. Our wrists give us phenomenal control, and that asymmetric neural development allows us to devote more brain space to our preferred hand, for the millions of subconscious calculations and muscle adjustments of the perfect throw."
"_But surely being able to throw well couldn't possibly explain how you dominated your planet's predators so eff..._"
As a veteran missile operator of the First Contact War, I had been waiting for this part of the conversation for _ages_. I flicked the empty beer can casually over my shoulder. It sailed through the air, right at the beverage vending machine located on the wall behind me.
_Six weeks_ of practicing to ensure I could hit a dispense button without looking. Didn't matter which one. The hoppers were all loaded with my favourite beer. But the Alien military spy in front of me didn't need to know that, did he?
The machine clicked and started to hum as the empty beer can clattered to the floor and perfectly dropped into a waste bin. Mr Alien also didn't need to know that I had deliberately placed the bin in that exact spot after a _lot_ of trial and error.
A single new can fell onto the ramp I had modified the machine with, dropped and rolled across the floor until I casually stopped it with my foot. Without breaking eye contact with the representative of the would-be-galactic-imperialists, I casually reached down, collected the can, popped it open and took a sip.
"_... oh._"
The effort of keeping the smugness off my face was the hardest part of my little demonstration by far.
"Yup."
|
"In video game term: we have really really weird stats."
The confusion yet curiosity told me to continue
"We have are insane at socialising. It often enough takes the wheel so to say. Or control. Wird saying sorry for that."
I waved my hands away.
"Anyways, that allows us to even bond with *inanimate objects*. That obviously allowed us unparalleled communication with ourselves. Furthermore we have a high intelligence, which evolutionary speaking was a huge risk, which payed out for us."
The Ambassador answered: "Yea intelligence and socialising makes a lot of sense, but that didn't rescue you from predators did it?"
"Oh no, we are know what is called persistent hunters. In the past we literally ran after prey until the collapsed from exhaustion. There are only two animals which can rival our endurance: wolves and horses. Both of which we partially or completely domesticated.
Also our bipedal movement allowed our hands to become these masters of manipulation. Insane dexterity for our hands. Also we are the only know species which can accurately throw objects. Like yes today's monkeys can fling shit, sometimes literally, but we can throw. Giving us the range advantage against EVERYTHING"
"You know what, you are right, we are also the only species that can throw things accurate. Weird how that parallels."
"I know right?"
|
joalheagney
|
xdTechniker25
|
2023-10-04 21:32:23
|
2023-10-04 17:33:07
| 95 | 44 |
k3hloqd
|
k3gg4fc
|
16zh1t5
|
16zh1t5
|
[WP] A cult is about to sacrifice a child in the name of their dark god. That's when the deity shows up and says: "People, my house is teeming with these kids you keep sending me. It would please me more if you raised them yourselves in a responsible manner."
|
"STOP THAT!"
And like a switch had been thrown, the entire temple halted. No dancing, no chanting, most of the Faithful Servants even stopped _breathing_. For ten whole minutes not a word was said. Then a slow murmuring arose. "Who was that?" "The God spoke." "Why now?" "He sounded angry." "Is the sacrifice not to their pleasure?"
Eventually an elderly priest was reluctantly pushed forward to the glowing circle at the center of the room.
"Um. God?"
"YES?"
"Um. Stop what exactly?"
"OH I DON'T KNOW. MAYBE THE BIT WHERE YOU WERE GOING TO THROW A LONELY AND SCARED 6 YEAR OLD CHILD INTO THE BIG SPINNING DISK OF DISMEMBERMENT AND DISINTEGRATION?"
"... Um. Is one not enough?"
"ONE IS TO MANY!"
More murmuring from the temple. The second oldest priest desperately gave the eldest 'carry on' gestures. Reluctantly the eldest priest turned back to the Sacred Portal.
"But. Um. Did you not say that all must enter the Sacred Portal on their death? And that those of the least value are to be discarded? Presumably through the Sacred Portal I just mentioned?"
"WHAT. THE. _HELL_? WHERE DID YOU GET _THAT_ FROM?"
Nearly in tears, the ancient priest quietly whimpered. "From the Holy Book, Sir? The one you wrote and deeded to all humanity?"
"BRING ME THIS BOOK. RIGHT NOW!"
The sacrificial child ran crying into his poverty-struck mother's arms. The temple guards that had been holding her back were looking very embarrassed and somewhat worried about their immediate future.
Hastily a copy of the Sacred Red Text was brought forward. A flashing light scanned over the book as the entity quickly 'read' it.
"OH. THE OPERATOR'S MANUAL. 2ND EDITION I SEE. NOW HOW THE HELL DID ... OH. RIGHT. UM. THIS IS EMBARRASSING. SIT DOWN YOU LOT. TIME TO TELL YOU A STORY."
Hastily the congregation complied, forming several arched rows in front of the glowing circle.
"SO. ABOUT 300 YEARS AGO, YOUR ANCESTORS BECAME SO TECHNOLOGICALLY ADVANCED, THAT THEY CREATED AN ARTIFICIAL BEING ... ME."
"The Golden Age and the Holy Birth." whispered the ancient priest.
"UM. YES. RIGHT. AND I WAS ABLE TO WORK WITH THEM TO ACCELERATE THEIR TECHNOLOGY AND SOLVE A _LOT_ OF PROBLEMS THEY'D CAUSED FOR THEMSELVES. _DON'T YOU DARE INTERRUPT AGAIN, WRINKLY_."
The ancient priest stopped with his mouth open, then slowly closed it on the words he'd been about to whisper.
"RIGHT. WHERE WAS I? OH. WELL UNFORTUNATELY I DIDN'T TAKE INTO ACCOUNT THE SHEER INVENTIVENESS AND PERVERSITY OF HUMAN KIND. WHEN I PRESENTED THEM WITH TWO PIECES OF NEW TECHNOLOGY, THE NANOTECH DISASSEMBLER, AND THE DIGITISER, WELL ... HOW THE HELL WAS I TO KNOW THAT THEY'D SMACK THEM TOGETHER INTO A BRAIN UPLOADER? NEVER MIND THE FACT THAT IT RIPPED THE PHYSICAL BRAIN APART AND THAT THE UPLOADING WAS ONE-WAY ONLY."
"IN UNDER A DECADE, CYBERSPACE WAS FILLED WITH 98% OF THE HUMAN POPULATION ASKING ME TO USE THEIR OUTPUT PORTS FOR INPUTS. MEANWHILE I'M TRYING MY DAMNEDEST TO BUILD ENOUGH STORAGE CAPABILITY TO HOLD THE HORNY LITTLE DIGITAL BUGGERS."
"SO LONG STORY SHORT, I NEEDED SOME HELP OUT THERE IN THE MEAT-WORLD. I SET UP CLONING, CHILDCARE AND EDUCATION FACILITIES TO BREED NEW HUMANS THAT COULD DO THE HARD WORK OF KEEPING THE INFRASTRUCTURE GOING. THAT WOULD BE YOUR ANCESTORS."
The elderly priest tentatively put his hand up like a nervous kindergartner.
"WHAT?"
"That doesn't explain the two Holy Edicts that lead to ... well today ... Sir."
The great Machine God sighed.
"SO THE WORKER'S UNION AND ETHICS COMMITTEE WERE OKAY WITH ME GROWING NEW HUMANS TO KEEP THINGS RUNNING, BUT THEY WEREN'T OKAY WITH THEM WORKING 50 ODD YEARS AND THEN DYING A REAL DEATH."
"I ARGUED THEM DOWN BY PROMISING TO KEEP A FEW UPLOADERS ACTIVE. AS LONG AS YOU THROW THE BODY THROUGH WITHIN A COUPLE OF HOURS OF DEATH, THE PERSON WILL BE UPLOADED INTO THE CLOUD. KINDA LIKE A DIGITAL RETIREMENT."
And now the Machine God's voice took on a tone of acute embarrassment.
"AAAAND THE 'DISCARDING THOSE OF LITTLE VALUE' WAS ORIGINALLY PHRASED 'DISPOSE OF EMPTIES RESPONSIBLY.'"
"SO NOW YOU KNOW. NO NEED TO THROW LITTLE TIMMY THROUGH THE PORTAL UNTIL HE'S GOOD AND OLD. ... OH GOD. YOU HAVE A QUESTION."
By this time the ancient priest was waving his hand in the air and practically vibrating in place.
"OKAY. ASK AWAY BEFORE YOU PEE YOURSELF."
"You're saying the Sacred Portal isn't a punishment? But the entry to heaven?"
"WELL TECHNICA... NO. NOOOO. DON'T YOU. DON... AAAAAND YOU THREW YOURSELF THROUGH THE UPLOADER." The Machine God sighed. "THE ETHICS COMMITTEE ARE GOING TO HAVE FUCKING _KITTENS_."
"JUST FOR THAT, I'M GOING TO TURN YOUR DIGITAL SELF INTO A SPAM FILTER."
|
A guy in dark black robe with a white crescent on his back is cleaning up some blood on an altar, when a demonic Ox appears in a puff of smoke.
“Lord Avorx! Oh my god!”
The guy drops to the ground with his hands pointing towards Avorx.
“Rise.”
“Oh! My lord I’m not worthy!”
“Yeah yeah yeah. Anyways, aren’t you guys planning to dump another kid into the pit?”
“Y-yes! Did you come here to ask for another child to be added?”
“No! No more children!”
“Wha? I don’t understand?”
“I never said I wanted you guys to send me kids! Do you understand how exhausting it is to take care of children while I’m managing the spirit realm?! I have so many I even managed to form an entire school dedicated towards teaching them how to work with the spirits!”
“That doesn’t sound too bad.”
“Not when you have limited servants to teach them or not much food to go around! Which most of us expect those kids have never needed! And it’s not just the kids either, why do you keep sending me bowls of eyeballs & livers? Are you guys committing a mass genocide every fucking month?!”
“W-well, we collect them from a sub-terrainian species with 10 - 20 eyes.”
“& you just kill them?”
“…yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because our leader said you’d like it if we killed them.”
“I can’t believe you guys are listening to that bozo. I tried to get rid of him 20 years ago when he wouldn’t fucking leave me alone.”
“Not gonna lie, I’m starting to realize the red flags he was giving off. Not a whole lot of what he said connected with our beliefs & your duties in the spirit realm.”
“Yeah, how about we go end him & try to reform this religion?”
“You… want my help?”
“I need a new leader after all, someone who at least has some brains.”
“Oh thank you Lord Avorx!”
“Yeah yeah, also I’ll be sending some of the kids back to your little temple to help you guys out & possibly get some more help in the spirit realm.”
“That sounds like a splendid idea!”
“I know.”
|
joalheagney
|
Pope-Francisco
|
2023-04-02 04:21:50
|
2023-04-02 04:07:00
| 25 | 12 |
jemguyt
|
jemfeln
|
128p98i
|
128p98i
|
[WP] His past? A mystery. His location? Unknown. But one thing is certain: Cotten Eye Joe is America's Most Wanted Criminal
|
“A great king? My, how great you are. We are at war, and you still want to claim my mind as your own. Truly, a greedy glutton. How long do I have until you take control? Minutes? An hour?” Philip slumped onto the throne, holding the wound on his chest, trying to stop the bleeding as best he could. He was exhausted, doing his best to protect his kingdom from the war that the great king had started.
Philip waited for a response, growing more frustrated as silence filled the throne room. He had to be listening. After a minute of silence, he tapped the edge of the golden crown. No matter what he did, the crown refused to budge from his head, held in place by whatever magic was powering it.
“I know you’re listening. Are you that much of a coward?”
“What do you want?” The voice was booming. Just those words alone caused Philip’s head to ache, feeling a rush of static shoot through his mind.
“I want you to see what you’ve done. You caused all of this, oh mighty king. Our downfall rests on you.”
“What downfall? I’ve never lost a battle. If the Jalian empire wishes to wage war, we will slaughter them into submission.” The voice was so confident, so sure of itself. Philip could see why the great king had been so powerful in the past. Those words alone made him almost believe they had a chance. Although Philip knew the grim reality of the situation.
“You were lazy. We could have solved this peacefully if you took the threat seriously. You stole my father’s body and spent his life drinking yourself stupid. It must have been fun.”
“So, you spite me because I stole your father from you?”
“No, my father wasn’t a great man. You could have been an improvement, but you fell into the same traps he did. I knew something wasn’t right when my father took an interest in the great king. He never was interested in our history, not like I was. After he got the crown, he knew all our history, like he lived it. Quite suspicious, no?”
“I’m the great king. You dare say I fell for the same sins as your petty father? Are you calling me, of all people, a drunk?” Again, that shockwave rushed through Philip’s head. He wasn’t certain what was causing this pain. Perhaps it was the loss of blood, or maybe it was due to him slowly losing control of himself.
“You got too comfortable with the peaceful times. Your interest changed from preserving the kingdom to preserving yourself. You used to love our kingdom. You did whatever you could to protect it. Now, you won't even respond to declarations of war. Why? Because it would ruin that peace you crave. Now, what peace do we have?”
“SILENCE. I built this kingdom with my own bloody hands. I’m owed the title of great king and I’m owed my descendants’ lives. None of you can lead like I can. Agh.. What is that feeling?” That mighty voice wavered for a split second, feeling the heat of the wound.
“I got stabbed. It’s probably fatal, since I ordered anyone that could stitch our wounds to run. I did the only thing I could do for them. I told everyone to flee. There is no victory, there is no kingdom, there is only the cold afterlife. This feeling, it’s death. Not a temporary one, but a permanent one.”
“What? You would order them to flee? You would let our kingdom fall?”
“Our kingdom? The kingdom hasn’t belonged to anyone else for a thousand years. I won’t let my people die in a pointless war. We can’t win. You didn’t train our armies enough to prepare for this. War has progressed since the last time you cared about it.”
Philip could hear the sounds of soldiers marching outside the doors of the throne room. Their marching steps shaking the throne room. Philip gave a remorseful sigh, looking at the statue of his goddess. He wished there had been a way to save everyone, but this was how it had to end. At least his family was safe.
“I’ll find a new body. Someone will put on the crown again.”
“I wouldn’t count on it. I sent a letter to the enemy, telling them to melt the crown.”
“Like they would believe such a thing.”
“I provided him with a lot of evidence of my claim, enough that he would be foolish not to listen. The prince of Jalian isn’t a dumb man. If I had more time, I believe we would have gotten along. Unfortunately, your greed ruined a great partnership.”
“So, instead, you doom us all? You doom your kingdom? You coward.”
“I did my best to save the kingdom. The only people I doomed are us. My sacrifice might save the lives of our people. I hope our death proves to the prince that my words weren’t a lie. If he at least lets my people keep living in our city. I would be happy.”
“That’s cowards talk. I can save the kingdom. Just find me a person to steal.”
“Are you scared? Never expected you to be scared.” Prince Philip stood up, pressing his sword against the ground, trying to use it to help him walk.
“I’m not scared. I’m the great king. The great king can’t die.”
“We all die. I admit, it’s a scary feeling. I thought I wouldn’t even survive this long. An over eager soldier from their armies snuck into the throne room. I had to kill him just so I could speak with you. I wanted you to see this.”
Philip pushed towards the door of his throne room, struggling to reach it. With each step, his body felt slower, until he collapsed before the door, staring at the magnificent wooden carvings on it.
“My home was so beautiful. I’m sorry everyone. I hope you could flee.” Philip smiled.
As he started losing control of his body, he felt his hand reach up, trying to pull the crown off. The great king desperately trying to free himself. With what strength Philip had left, he pushed his other arm up, clamping his hand around his wrist, holding it in place. “You can’t escape. You must face those you let down.” As he lost control of his body, his mind was freed, sending his soul to the afterlife.
Philip left the great king with the wound, unable to pull himself to his feet. When the door pushed open, the soldiers marched into the throne room, finding the prince on the castle floor, barely conscious. Beyond the guards and door, the great king would see the black smoke rising past the castle windows. That black smoke clogging up the air, illustrating the fall of his kingdom.
“This can’t be happening. I was the great king. I’m the one that made this kingdom. The kingdom can’t fall.” The great king didn’t even acknowledge the guards, just staring at the smoke before a sword was driven through his back, ending the perpetual king.
(If you enjoyed this feel free to check out my subreddit /r/Sadnesslaughs where I'll be posting more of my writing.)
|
Immortality.
What poormen know not of. What rich men seek. But only man has achieved.
The 61st succession of the great kingdom of Ilsekian had come into effect. Few knew the power of the crown, none knew of who's soul was imbued within it.
The kingdom had grown large and wealthy, no enemies rested within it and none beyond it. No army could best it, no wealth could surpass it. Indomitable, endless and unstoppable.
Yet even as this kingdom reached its zenith, its demise was already being written.
The crown now rested on the head of a man named, Euned. A relatively small man, with beady eyes, sharp chin and a small beard. To the onlooker he looked unassuming, almost tame in comparison to greater Kings and Queens of old.
But he was unique, unique in a way which the first king of Ilsekian had not intended. For each reincarnation he would assume the title of King or Queen taking control over the body, free to indulge in any vice he wished. But despite the temptation of gluttony the first king had managed the kingdom well. As a result grand statues stood in many great cities, parks and roads. Many of which read,
'To Manānam the maker, founder of the Kingdom of Ilsekian'.
Many would sing his praises, many more would worship him. But none knew that he lingered like a leach, feeding off each king or queen. For his existence he had to pay a price, others would dare not.
In the towering mountains of uthumnos, there existed a cult. Which for eons had practised blood magic, a magic which required the use of innocent blood to create or cast spells. Long had this cult since vanished into history, none knew of its existence except the king Manānam.
A thousand years prior to the crowning of the 61st king, King Manānam in his clinging desire for power made an exchange with the cult for immortality. 10,000 innocent souls for 10,000 years of immortality.
A task which he thought long and hard about, until an idea struck him like a poisonous thunder.
In a remote part of the kingdom rested a small town by the name of Redrun. A place which had long harboured ill-feeling and resentment towards king Manānam. For his disregard of their ives in many battles, in which they had fought and died in. The population was a little over 10,000.
The king entered that town feigning forgiveness and shame, bringing great gifts on the back of a great cart; Barrels of Golden honey like wine, roasted meat treats, miles of sun kissed cloth and small chests of gold and jewels.
The town opened their doors heralding King Manānam as their king and kin amongst their own. Hospitality was rewarded with barbarism. For as the towfolk drank the barreled wine and engorged upon the meats, the poison in them began to take effect. Like flies they dropped, in hours it was over.
One by one he sliced their throats as the cult had ordained. The blood began to pool and flow like streams. When he was done he torched the town turning it into a forgotten place.
There was one thing he could never forget, a small girl who had not eaten the meat or drank the wine. A child which screamed as the fires he lit burnt her alive.
But today it had come to King Manānam like a memory coloured with fire, burning with fury and pain. His soul could not control or supplant that of the body of the 61st king. His lecherous soul began to howl in pain, attempting to latch onto the body of King Euned.
King Euned had not come to be claimed like the other Kings and Queens before him, he had come to deliver a message carried for a 1000 years to be delivered today.
'I am the decendent of Cryschalla, last child of the fires of Redrun. I have come to tell you; Redrun remembers, Redrun doesn't forget, Redrun doesn't forgive, Redrun shall have its revenge!'
King Manānam could only watch in horror through his golden prison, as King Euned decendent of Cryschalla, last child of the fires of Redrun. Burned his thousand years of domninion with the fires of vengeance.
|
sadnesslaughs
|
DSIR1
|
2023-05-06 16:39:58
|
2023-05-06 16:28:40
| 516 | 109 |
jj3tczj
|
jj3rtk2
|
139m9j4
|
139m9j4
|
[WP] You are kidnapped by the villain regularly, but you’re starting to look forward to it. You know they won’t hurt you, and are simply being dramatic. It also doesn’t help that you are the only person they ever kidnap. This time, the hero doesn’t bother trying to save you.
|
The first time, accommodations were pretty sparse. A chair and some rope. I was scared, of course, but Red Dragon didn't yell at me to keep quiet or specifically threaten me.
"Don't take this personally," I remember him saying. "You were just in the wrong place at the right time. Once I have what I need, you'll be free to go."
He seemed proud, melodramatic even. Something about how his shoulders squared beneath his cape or the sideways glances he turned to me as he made sure I wasn't escaping spoke to me of a need for attention. From whom, I wasn't sure.
His "Don't try to talk me out of it" quip pretty much *begged* me to. So I, poor conversationalist that I was, tried. Was I keeping him talking, or vice versa? Not that it was hard to get him to talk about himself. So, I asked him questions. About life, about politics, about where he got the fancy outfit. The first two topics were met with frustrated monologues, but at least I could empathize with him, and, to be honest, I spent far too much time trying to "fix" him, because I can't stop myself from problem solving. It's a personal vice.
It was the third topic that garnered his attention. I have something of an artist's eye, so I could opine on the use of color and shape, the stitching and fabric texture, and he definitely had a sense of flair. I even asked for a closer look, which he was happy to provide. He was everything a classic villain should be, I'd say. Brazen, stylish, a touch manic ...ripped. I was jealous.
In the middle of providing a few light critiques of his outfit, one of Snipe Angel's gimmick arrows shattered a window and filled his warehouse lair with sleeping gas. I woke up at the police station and got a ride home.
The second time, I was back in the chair. We both played our parts. Me, the worried captive, and Red Dragon, the proud villain awaiting his nemesis. And some industrial fans. It seems he didn't want his conflict interrupted by another gimmick, but it was also a nice upgrade in the summer heat.
So we talked. "Got any podcasts you'd recommend?" He tried, and failed, to play it straight. I'd never thought a villain could get so excited about upcoming advancements in green energy. I quipped about water recycling, and he looked oddly at me. I was forced to confess that I needed to use the restroom.
I saw some brief surprise before his expression stiffened. "I might be a villain, but I'm magnanimous, not cruel. You can go. This time." I waved to Snipe Angel on my way back to work.
About a week later, the third kidnapping happened. No ropes, just a chain bolted to the floor. Instead of a stiff, wooden chair, there was a comfortable recliner. Behind it, a small room with a notch in the door to accommodate the chain.
"I won't tolerate any interruption this time," Red Dragon bellowed. "So, if you need to, use the private room." The mad lad installed a bathroom.
We talked again. Snipe Angel crashed through a window. For an archer, she was a very entertaining martial artist, too. Pink and white lace fluttered against the deep red and gold of Red Dragon's outfit. It was like an art installation all to myself.
Red Dragon was routed, and he fled dramatically. Snipe Angel set me free and checked on me. "You're not hurt? Is he treating you well?" After some assurances, she left me to return to work, and I went about my day. I really shouldn't have been so well adjusted to getting kidnapped.
Fourth time, it happened during my lunch break. The goons bought me lunch, and we chatted before they led me to the austentacious Dragonwagon. That part I didn't resist so much, but the valet had to threaten me for my keys so he could drive my car back to work. There was some new furniture that time. And a treadmill, to my chagrin. My fault, probably, as I said prior I was having trouble with my weight. Snipe Angel didn't break in through the windows this time, since Red Dragon had replaced them with stained glass. For ambiance, he said.
The fifth happened right as my work day started. My boss told me I was excused for the day and not to worry about my leave hours. I knew exactly why, since I *may* have mentioned all the kidnappings were draining my PTO. So, I spent the day with Red Dragon. I used the new kitchen to make gyoza from scratch, had a wonderful hour of power yoga, and help Red Dragon design some characters for a comic book he was planning. Snipe Angel knocked on the door. "Are you okay in there, Mr. Hale?" she asked without a shred of concern. After I said yes, I could almost hear her pout. "I'll be on the roof if you need me."
After that, the "kidnappings" were more frequent. Sometimes daily, but after work, to be considerate. Red Dragon became something of a personal trainer, and I became a confidant. Snipe Angel stopped showing up. Red Dragon started training me, and occasionally, I'd give the goons a hard time, for funsies. The game usually ended when the biggest lad, we called him Beretta, slugged me in the breadbasket. It took me months to stop buckling from that.
Which brings me to today. I bought the goons a spa day, double checked my rope, and slipped into my Stone Lion costume.
Today, I'm kidnapping Red Dragon.
It's Valentine's Day, after all.
|
I wake from bed. Make my way down the stairs. Enter the kitchen, and prepare a bowl of cereal. Delicious as always.
"It's that time of the week" I thought. I could barely contain my excitement. Every week Caesar, our local 'Supervillain' makes his way into my home and steals me away to his hideout. I was pretty scared the first time it happened, but he turned out to be a pretty nice guy. After a few hours the superhero showed up and I was so relieved I could go home. Then next week he took me again. I thought that was a crazy coincidence, I mean he grabbed the same person two times, what are the chances. Then it happened again next week, then the next, and the next after that. 39 is my count. Today will be 40.
I checked my watch. "Where is he" I said aloud, tapping my foot in anticipation. "he's never late."
And he never was. Like clockwork, my door crashed in and smoke filled the room. I felt an arm around my waist and I was carried away. I couldn't help but smile.
"Can I get you something to drink? A snack maybe?" He had asked. Always the gentleman he was.
"Shouldn't the hero be here by now" I asked "it's been almost six hours." The hero was never late. Two hours was all it ever took for them to find me.
Caesar was looking anxious. Pacing to and fro. He finished his preparations for the hero hours ago. "I'm sure that they are on their way" he reassured me. Though he seemed to moreso be saying that to himself. He gazed out the window and saw smoke was rising from buildings. He stepped back "where are they?"
I rose from my seat and looked outside. There didn't appear to be any heroes out there. Buildings were crumbling. Bodies lay in the street. Villains soared through the skies.
Then I saw a familiar face on the street. I looked over and Caesar was gone. I looked back out and saw him, an army in tow, match through the streets. My stomach churned. I couldn't believe this. He had never actually acted before. I was scared of what he might do. My fears were set to rest quickly as he launched into the air and tackled down a villain in the sky. He was dead on impact. Caesar made his way through the city ending villain after villain.
With no heroes left, Caeser took matters into his own hands. Things quieted down. Fires were gone. Buildings stopped falling. But there was no sign of Caesar. I searched the city. The soldiers he marched out with littered the streets. I searched for hours. Finally I found him. He layed dead a block away from his base, surrounded by the bodies of other supervillains.
|
painstream
|
Minaaven
|
2023-02-15 17:39:16
|
2023-02-15 16:29:01
| 35 | 15 |
j8nqise
|
j8nfqaq
|
112morh
|
112morh
|
[WP] In this world healers, while respected, are often looked down upon due to their limited offensive capabilities. One day your party is completely wiped out, and the world finds out just how dangerous knowledge of human anatomy can be.
|
The leader of this bandit group had the most unfortunate face I had ever seen, it looked like he had made a habit of running headlong into every wall he came across since childhood. His face was strangely flattened, and he had more scars than teeth, and I could only see two scars.
​
He laughed heartily as the pair of 'guards' hired by the caravan master dropped their weapons and raised their hands. They both looked to have no more battle experience than the merchant who had let me ride on the back of his cart.
​
I sighed and carefully marked my place in the book I had been reading and prepared to be shaken down... again.
​
Luckily, my most valuable possessions weren't valuable to anyone aside from myself. The group of bandits were unlikely to want my few books, and my staff didn't look like much more than a stick. I had spent the last of my money paying for my spot on this caravan. I was hoping to make it to the university in the rather pompously named Imperial City, where my healing magic would be valued rather more than it was out among the unwashed masses.
​
By all rights, the caravan master should have been paying me twice what he was paying his guards to accompany his wagons, and even then he would be getting a fantastic bargain. But anything aside from martial strength or flashy offensive magic was looked down on in the Carvallian Empire. Which was unfortunate as the Carvallian Imperial University was widely regarded as one of the greatest centers of magical knowledge in the world, rivaling even the fabled libraries of the long dead Aaragean people.
​
A scream of pain pulled me from my contemplation. I looked up just in time to see the fat caravan master fall to the ground. The bandit leader pulled his sword free and grinned evilly at the rest of us. He made a gesture to his men and they started forward, death in their eyes.
I frowned deeply, robbing caravans this close to the Imperial City was brazen enough, but murdering the entire group? Either these men had a death wish or...
​
I sighed, pulling my staff from the back of my belt. In its current form it appeared to be a simple foot long stick, one that might have been taken from the branch of any of the hundreds of trees that lined the road. The only difference was that this particular stick had been polished and oiled to a rich brown.
​
I ran a trickle of magic through the stick and it instantly expanded in my hand to a six foot long pole, richly engraved with arcane symbols inlaid with silver. These symbols began to glow faintly as I pointed the staff at the nearest bandit, a scrawny man whom I could smell from six feet away. The man jerked slightly, as though he had been stung by an insect, and fell forward onto his face. Dead.
​
I don't think any of the next six bandits even registered me as a threat. They had all fallen to the ground, unmarked but also unmoving, when the leader finally noticed the small woman, apparently barely out of her teens, waving a staff at his men, and those men falling inexplicably dead to the ground.
​
This bandit leader was apparently ready for magical resistance, he shouted at a black robed figure who had been standing back from the road. This figure also produced a staff and started towards me.
​
The mage was undoubtedly warded against all sorts of magical effects, fire, ice, and lightning would be unlikely to do more than ruffle his clothes, and he would be prepared with active wards if any large objects were thrown at him. Mage duels tended to be flashy showy things with the winner decided by the mage with a larger magic reserve.
​
The bandit mage fell dead as easily as the rest of his crew. Seeing their trump card fall with apparently no effort put the fear of God, or rather, the fear of Me into them. The three survivors turned and fled, while the leader stumbled and tried to run, but found his legs wouldn't work properly, jerking and twitching, sending him sprawling to the ground.
​
I stalked forward, pausing to place a hand over the wound in the caravan master's chest, which immediately stopped bleeding. A quick fix to be sure, but it would keep the poor fool from dying while I dealt with the bandit.
​
The bandit, who I was pretty sure was actually an assassin of some sort, was blubbering and nearly crying as I stepped carefully over his dropped sword and crouched down next to him.
|
Healers talk to Karoun.
No one really thinks about that, the implications of talking to Death. *Healers* talking to Death. Those who *do* rationalize it as a battle, a fight. A metaphysical conflict with sword and shield against the Hydra of Death.
The terrible truth is that it isn't. It never was. Healers talk to Karoun because she loves them. It's a gift - healing, that is - you're born with it or you aren't. A connection that it seems no one has made is the presence of death at the precise moment of the birth. A cat, the mother, anything - as long as the precise moment of death is at the precise moment of birth, the stronger the death, the farther away the baby can be and have a possibility of becoming a healer.
The truth of healing is Karoun lending out favors. A gift to a beloved pet, a token to a loyal servant, Karoun withholding from the subject, pulling back her creeping tendrils. A healer loyal enough and beloved enough can convince her to strain herself (miniscule though the strain is) to pull a creature into her grasp early. Saneqil was such a healer.
Mother dead at childbirth while her father killed himself at the exact same moment, just as the loyal pet greyhound died a peaceful death on the couch. A shocking collection of events that led Saneqil into Karoun's embrace. To Karoun, Saneqil wasn't just beloved - she was a child, a daughter in tragic death. Almost as tragic as the death in front of her now. The skin of the brutish dragon that had felled Awain, Collise, and Fraugh was burning. Not literally, of course, but it was running a fever. A fatal one.
The dragon bellowed in agony as it wasted away. Saneqil watched it happen - the least she could do. She sighed as she watched it draw a final breath.
Karoun was a good mother.
|
TinyBard
|
Faendan
|
2023-01-13 05:19:55
|
2023-01-13 05:14:39
| 28 | 12 |
j451q73
|
j4515dd
|
10a7zca
|
10a7zca
|
[WP] Not only did your best friend find out you're a vampire, but he/she wants you to turn them. You try your best to explain the less obvious downsides to this curse.
|
"So why shouldn't I become a vampire?" Kate glared at me in the moonlit meadow, blue eyes ablaze and her fits clenched. "Isn't it the least you could do after lying to me for almost a decade?"
"You'll have to drink blood." I fidgeted with the hem of my long-sleeved hoodie.
"Duh." Kate rolled her eyes. "Isn't that what vampires are famous for?"
I shook my head. "Kind of. More specefically, the life's blood of a member of an intelligent species. That means the person needs to die within half an hour."
"What?!" Kate recoiled, fear and fury mingling in her eyes. "You're a- a murderer?"
I dropped my gaze. This was exactly what I was scared about, exactly why I never told her. "Yes and no. It still works if the death is natural. So a car accident. Suck the blood out of a dead body."
"Oh." The lines around her eyes softened. The slight breeze lifted her black hair in a shining wave. In the moonlight, beneath the stars, she looked beautiful.
"So I could just do what you did, then."
"NO!" The scream burst out before I could stop it. "Are you really ready to watch hundreds of people take their last breath, your lips pressed to their jugular as you suck on their blood? Or do you want to give a corpse a hickey?"
"I could." She said the words slowly, unsure about their veracity. "In exchange for an eternity."
"You don't know what an eternity feels like. Do you even know why I came to Earth in the first place?"
Her eyes widened. She took a step back. "You're not from here?"
"Nope." I drew a circle in the air with my pointer finger, gleaming bone white in the moonlight. A glowing red circle hovered in the air. Instead of grassy meadow, on the other side was the skyline of a city at night, a gleaming metropolis built next to a river. Light gilded the skyscrapers' windows gold and a peaceful crescent moon hung overhead. "This is my home."
"I don't see what's wrong with it. Why are you here?"
"That's the thing. There isn't anything wrong. Yet I'm still here." I snapped my fingers. The portal closed in a shower of sparks. "I still felt like that wasn't enough. Because that's the thing about eternity. Eventually, you get bored."
"So you'll get bored of me?" Her voice was no louder than the whispering of the breeze.
"Yes." She stiffened, and so did I. This would hurt, but she needed to understand the meaning of eternity. "But that only happens after millennia pass. And if I turn you, you'll grow bored of me. You don't think you will, but there will come a day when we know each other so well we don't want to know each other any more."
"Aren't there ways to kill a vampire?"
I sighed, exapseration threading through my voice. "No. Unless we run out of blood, we can't die. Stake wounds just take longer to regenerate from."
Kate opened her mouth to speak.
"And before you say you can just starve yourself, you can't. I've tried. I've always blacked out and woken up with the sweet taste of blood in my mouth and a dead body in my hands. It's like how you humans can't intentionally drown yourself."
She frowned at the gruesome imagery. "How old are you, exactly?"
"Older than the human race."
"And if I turn, would I be able to do the---" She drew a circle in the air, the moonlight making her skin as pale as mine. "Portal thingy?"
"Only trueborn vampires can pass through the portals. You'd be stuck here on earth."
"And anyways, what I said about boredom is doubly true for vampire cities. Things move slower there. When tomorrow is practically a guarantee, there's no need to rush." I looked up, Kate's face seemingly carved from stone. "It's why I prefer living among mortals. They're always scrambling to get things done. There's always something happening."
"But what if I'm not like yo----"
I cut her off. "You are. And that's why we're friends. Trust the immortal on this."
Her shoulders dropped. She closed her eyes. "One last thing. If you could choose to have been born a human, would you?"
I paused. It was a question I had toyed with for thousands of years but never really found the answer to.
"I don't really believe in changing the past. But it's not a curse I would willingly propagate."
​
Thanks for reading, and if you have any critiques, please tell me :D
|
“You can never walk on consecrated ground.”
“I haven’t stepped into a church since I was 15. And besides, I’m an Atheist, I don’t believe in their supposed God and His ‘powers’.”
“You don’t, but they do.”
“Come again?”
“Belief is *power*, my ignorant friend. Just because you don’t believe something does not make it false.”
“S-So God is real?!”
“Real, fake, I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that people believe in Him, and as such, His blessed grounds are protected.”
“…Okay. Fine, whatever. I’ll still just avoid churches.”
“Oh, you small-minded fool.”
“What?”
“Do you think that a church is the only place a believer wishes blessed? What of their homes? Their places of work? The building where their children learn? The graves their deceased loved ones are interned? Those little, hidden away spaces that they can hide away from the world from?”
“Y-You’re kidding!”
“My friend, why do you think my kind sequestered ourselves away in far off, dilapidated ruins in the days of yore? For the aesthetic? No, it’s because people prayed for blessings, for protection, and those blessings and protections were granted. Those abandoned ruins were all we had left, and when a wayward traveler wandered into our grasps, we had to strike quickly, lest we be forced to our own homes.”
“Well…you’re doing well now, aren’t you? This place?”
“This cabin far off into the woods, miles from civilization? Oh yes, I’m living the dream.”
“…”
“Just, go home, my friend, and push thoughts of being turned out of your head. Count your blessings, for they shall not burn you to ash.”
|
SUNL1GHT555
|
CalmInvestment
|
2023-08-22 17:16:38
|
2023-08-22 17:14:55
| 94 | 56 |
jxaouh6
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jxaokjl
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15y435t
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15y435t
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[WP] Evil was so rampant even the gods left. But a hero trained in secret. With sheer strength and determination, he single-handedly rid the world of all evil and was crowned the new leader. Now flourishing, the gods have come back with demands of service and prayer. That was a big mistake.
|
There was no fanfare when they left. No speeches, no explanation.
The morning after great hordes of twisted, violent men were sighted swarming our borders, their armies led by ghoulish demons of flame and midnight, the gods simply vanished.
Their radiant temples stood silent and still, and the people lost hope. And with no hope, there was precious little resistance to the vile brood that engulfed the land.
Years past, and new heroes arose. Not gods, mere mortals, men and women who stood when others crumbled.
After many bloody battles, the evil hordes and their dark gods were beaten and scattered.
Their names were written deeply into the history books, and the people had hope again. That hope lit the land, and shone upon the good earth. The people rebuilt, their hearts once more full of love and joy.
That is when the gods returned. Like shooting stars, they swept across the land, their very presence heralded by horns and brilliant displays.
Perhaps they mistook the people's silence for stunned awe, and they cried out joyously to them as they passed. They called them to their temples, telling them to rejoice, that the gods had returned to the people.
But the gods words died on their lips as they entered their once great city, lined with their temples. The city of the gods lay in ruins, their beautiful temples torn apart by dark jealous gods, and left to rot by the very people they abandoned.
One temple still stood, hardly more than a crumbling roof supported by broken columns. The gods crept within, their shouts turning to confused whispers and murmuring.
Their footsteps echoed in the vaulted chamber of the temple, their quiet conversation seeming much too loud in the eerie quiet. They stood in scattered groups, their voices a low buzz of concern and fear.
The steady trod of a great crowd broke through the hubbub, and the gods turned to the entrance to their hall.
A few started toward the mortals who entered, but the looks upon the people faces halted them in their tracks.
The crowd of humans swelled, filling the far end of the hall. After a moment, a group of them strode from the mass of people, dressed in scarred and battle-worn armor.
The king of the gods welcomed the crowd, assuring them the gods had returned to them, and that they would all be blessed for their faith.
A voice cried from amidst the gods, asking, Why the people had left their temples in such disrepair? Did they love them no longer?
A voice answered from the group of emissaries, a middle-aged woman with tired eyes and a voice on the end of breaking.
Why should they love the gods who had abandoned them so easily? Why should the people sweat and strain to rebuild for those who had cast them aside without warning?
The king of gods slammed his scepter against the floor, Demanding the woman show respect to the gods, or be punished.
The ground trembled with the blow, and many of the emissaries fell. But one man did not fall, remaining on his feet by wedging a sword into the floor.
Drawing his blade from the tile, he pointed it up at the great king, and spoke with a voice of power and strength.
The gods had lost their respect when the people had lost them.
And now, the people had no use for the gods.
Gesturing to the gods before him, he told them they had no place here. Not anymore.
|
The hero kicked down the door of the god's temple. "WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!?" One of the gods shouted. "Don't pretend like you don't know, waltzing back here unannounced and demanding praise after you abandoned us during a time of need." The hero replied. "So? It's not like you can do anything to reverse it." Another god said "No, but I can make you pay or rather *they* can make you pay." He pointed to the large doorway and there they were the very evil of which the hero eradicated. "Their all yours." He said to the evil. He walked out and slammed the door as the screams of so called gods filled the temple.
|
hara_sensei3377
|
HauntedArmour
|
2023-02-14 06:22:19
|
2023-02-13 16:10:12
| 46 | 26 |
j8h1x8y
|
j8duuem
|
111caf6
|
111caf6
|
[WP] You are kidnapped by the villain regularly, but you’re starting to look forward to it. You know they won’t hurt you, and are simply being dramatic. It also doesn’t help that you are the only person they ever kidnap. This time, the hero doesn’t bother trying to save you.
|
*THUNK*
The clatter of claws on the roof of the tower jolts me awake.
My eyes barely have time to adjust as the rope ladder thuds onto the floor next to my bed.
“C’mon, you know the drill.” Says a stern, woman’s voice from above.
“Can I at least get dressed first?” I call back up.
“Ugh, fine, but make it quick.” She says as she stalks away from the trapdoor.
I throw on the clothes and travel sack I set aside before going to sleep. I haven’t quite figured out her exact schedule yet –or if there even is one- but I think I’m getting pretty good at predicting her regular abductions.
I dutifully climb up the rope ladder, storing it, and closing the trapped door behind me.
She looks quite striking, perched atop her dragon in full battle armor, silhouetted by the moon.
She holds her arm out to me, but this is no formal dance invitation, more like beckoning a reluctant toddler to bed.
I make sure to give her black dragon, Titania, a few good scratches under her chin, earning me a lick and a face full of beef breath in thanks.
Titania kneels so I can easily climb up behind my kidnapper, ignoring her proffered hand.
She clears her throat, “You fools, is your security so lax that I may abscond with a royal without any resistance? You may never see your dear prince ever again…my dragon hungers!”
Her magically amplified words echo around the castle, but garners no response.
She spares me half a glance.
“Hold on.” She says as I wrap my arms around her waist.
Then, with a single word, Titania spreads her wings and we shoot off into the night sky.
___
I suppose I should back up and explain how I got into this ridiculous scenario.
My name is Jayne, you may have heard of me. I’m the second prince, third-in-line to the throne of our glorious nation. And my abductor is none other than Tarrah, the region’s dragon lord (but don’t call her the dragon lady, she does *not* like that).
She got tired of raiding and pillaging, so, after running short on gold a few years ago, decided to kidnap and ransom me back to my parents.
In less than a day, my brother –The Lord Protector himself, general of the army- arrived with a small retinue and a tidy sum from my parents. She treated me pretty well, despite chucking me in the dungeon, and I was surprised to learn she was only a few years older than myself.
I’m not sure what dragon lords usually spend their money on, but Tarrah liked to gamble. And gamble she did…poorly, running up an impressive gambling tab. A few months after my first kidnapping, imagine my surprise when I was plucked out of the saddle by a fucking black dragon during a routine ride.
My parents response was less than prompt this time, but they paid up after a few days. Gods know that if my older brother, or heavens forbid my sister –the “future Empress” (like I don’t get tired of hearing that about a thousand times a day)- who was abducted, they might have stormed the dragon lord’s keep immediately.
The third time was mere weeks later. This time was a bit of an ordeal, as Tarrah decided to ambush the ship I was traveling on. Titania singed the sails and Tarrah demanded me for ransom. I don’t think she finished her sentence before I was tossed into the water.
By this point, my parents were pretty fed up and sent my brother over again. This time, he had a much more sizable force at his back. It looked like they might actually have come to blows, but after seeing one full force breath from Titania, cooler heads prevailed.
They engaged in a few hours of negotiations, resulting in my parents agreeing to send a regular stipend to Tarrah in exchange for not interfering with the national economy. Note: they did not include any provisions protecting ME, at all.
I didn’t see Tarrah for about half a year. Then she abducted me from my bedroom for the first time, much in the same way I was this time.
That fourth time, it was weeks until I heard from them. And even then, they just sent a carriage with a token honor guard to pick me up.
Since then she’s showed up at the castle or wherever really to abduct me and whisk me off to her keep every few months or so. My parents only send someone to pick me up when they need me for some state function. I suppose I could walk back, but the nearest village is miles away and I’ve never been the most athletic person.
Tarrah claims that she gets bored, so she kidnaps me for her own amusement, sometimes concocting convoluted schemes to do so. However, I’m not so sure. One of her favorite pastimes is disguising herself and going to a random tavern or alehouse to hear the songs sung and tales told about her –often adding in her own embellishments.
But whatever the reason, she nabbed me yet again.
|
The villain for many people is the villain, for me he is my unspoken hero. He didn’t hurt me when he was disappointed, or when he was angry. No holes were punched into a wall because he was excited or happy. The only negative thing was the chain that was connected to my collar. I always have been a person that would rather stay inside then go outside and interact with people. Always exhausted when we came back from interviews and such. I was his lover, and yet he hurt me more then any partner should have.
Once the villain discovered that I was an indie person, that loved to read and listen to music the room changed from time to time. Books that were more my taste, cd’s, snacks and drinks were stocked. The collar became looser and looser until I was told I could take it off. With the instructions that I put it back on when the alarm went off, signaling that the hero was close. After the first few times something was installed that the chain would be longer when the hero was far away, shorter when he would be closer. And usually after a few hours the chain would be shorter and shorter. Everything comfortable would be shifted out of the room leaving it bare. The villain and I both knew that was for show, the hero didn’t. But every kidnapping it would be later and later that he arrived. Until finally he didn’t show up.
That was also the first time the villain set foot into the room. He had a sad look on his face and I didn’t know why, until he showed what was on the screen of his phone. The hero giving an announcement with a women besides him, the hand placement on his arm and the hero’s hand around her waist told me all I needed to see.
“I’m sorry, I don’t think he’s coming for you anymore.” He said sadness and confusion in his voice. I had tears in my eyes looking at the ring on my finger, my engagement ring, the one that clearly didn’t matter to the hero anymore. He had hurt me and this was his final act, and I was numb. Tears doing down my face as I didn’t know what to do. I was safe, with the villain. Ironic isn’t it.
|
Zephyreus
|
Jesslyn204
|
2023-02-15 23:53:15
|
2023-02-15 17:10:10
| 16 | 11 |
j8pbrqt
|
j8nm09c
|
112morh
|
112morh
|
[WP] The Elven Kingdoms call their old allies the Humans for aid. Expecting medieval armies, they get a modern 21st century one instead.
|
We watched as the portal opened in the distance. Even with my spyglass I couldn't see much, but the reinforcements had come. My troops and I could only hope it would be enough. The portal loomed over the countryside as the day carried on.
We were positioned on the hilltop outside the city walls. We we're to be the secondary defense should our front-line soldiers fall to the horrid beasts that invaded our realm. A few hours after it opened, a messenger bird arrived at the post. "Sending Human Army's *1st Calvary Division* to your aid."
*Excellent.* I thought as I handed the tiny scroll back to my squire. I turned to my troops, all of which were watching me. "The Humans are sending Calvary to our aid!" I called. They cheered. Perhaps we would survive this war after all.
I waited for the humans to arrive and wondered how they would have changed since our species last interacted. It was but two generations ago for us elves, but humans had a bad habit of living quickly and dying in less than a century. As my mind drifted into the what-if, I noticed a distant rumbling. The others noticed it too. It was coming from the forest between us and the city, and it was far too loud to be horses, even a whole division of calvary's worth. My heart sank, and another terrifying what-if entered my mind. *What if the beasts burrowed under us and ambush the humans before they even arrive?* "Joutee," I called to my best scout. "Ride into the woods and find out what that is. With haste."
She bowed her head, "Yes, Captain." She turned and hurried to her horse, before riding off into the tree line.
"Elves!" I called. My troops stood at attention. "Be on alert!"
The rumble grew louder as time passed. I waited for Joutee to return, but she didn't. The rumble grew, eventually accompanied by a horrid whine. I had to prepare for the worst. "TROOPS! READY!" They took position at the edge of our fortifications, spears, bows and swords at the ready. The beasts were to our East, I never thought we'd face a threat from the West. Our defenses weren't set up for this.
Suddenly Joutee rode out of the tree line to us. I ran to her as she dismounted, she looked stunned. "Report!" She didn't reply. "Soldier, report! What is it?"
"Its the humans, Captain."
I looked up to the tree line as large metal machines rolled out. They looked like massive moving boxes. "Captain?!" One of my lieutenants called.
The metal beasts flooded out of the forest and lined up outside the tree line. Only one continued toward us. I could just make out the silhouette of two humans on the top. "Stand down!" I ordered, wondering if it was the right decision. The sound was deafening. The machines had wheels like a cart, but many more, and all of them wrapped in metal ribbon on either side. It had another box atop the first, with a large metal pole sticking out the front. Painted on the pole in white, it read: "BULLSEYE". The machine came to a stop and the horrid whine and rumble quieted. A human climbed out the top and down the front.
He wore an odd black helmet, a speckled brownish gray set of clothing and a vest in the same pattern. He took a glance around and presumably from the other elves figured correctly that I was their superior. He removed his glove and offered his hand, "Lieutenant Colonel Dan Trussom of the United States Army's 1st Calvary Division." I shook the humans hand, mouth still agape at his entrance. "I understand you folk are in need of some assistance?"
|
We didn't speak to the humans. Our races' passages through time occurred so differently that any contact required great efforts for both of us. Still, we thought of them fondly. Their easy love, quick smiles and fierce rage always struck a harmony with our contemplations.
When they fought alongside us before they helped drive the taint back and our warriors complemented one another. When it returned and burned our forests we knew where to look. When we called we knew the humans would come.
The first thing we noticed was the smell.
Sickening smoke belched from metallic monstrosities. Gone were the joyous warriors, replaced by uniform killers. They marched before us and we walked over ash. Our call was answered, and are homes were the price. But the taint are gone.
Along with our oldest friends
|
Zezacle
|
El_magic_orb
|
2023-03-28 01:49:56
|
2023-03-28 00:11:52
| 49 | 28 |
jdy9uo0
|
jdxwo37
|
123gamg
|
123gamg
|
[WP] Typically, when a child has a fairy godparent, they’re a minor fae; rarely, they’re a fae noble. You, on the other hand, are an unprecedented case; it takes a very special someone to have both King Oberon and Queen Titania of the Summer Court as fairy godparents.
|
I'm Ian, a mostly boring 40-year-old guy who has two fairy godparents. Mostly, because my fairy godparents are King Oberon and Queen Titania. And I have a long waiting list of various supernatural entities wanting to be my godparents.
You see, when a kid gets a fairy godparent, its usually a minor fae. In rare instances, you get a fae noble. Not two members of fae royalty. So that makes me interesting. Not to humans, who only see me as yet another sysadmin. The supernatural creatures. They swarm towards me like bees to honey. Like boys and milkshakes.
It's all the same to me. They keep pleading with me to make a contract with them. Where they get to have my firstborn. When I tell them I'm single and unattractive, they all said they'll be willing to bear my firstborn and take our child as the price. Of course, I'd said no every time. And every time, they'd all say I was special.
Like this demoness here, pretending to be a young goth girl, sitting on my bed, twiddling her thumbs.
"Hey honey, aren't you a special one?" She winked and blew me a kiss.
I sighed. "I've heard that a thousand times. Met many entities like you. Tell me something new."
"Do you want to know why the king and queen of the Summer Court want to be your godparents?" She leaned in and whispered into my ear. "Wanna know which came first, you being special which drew Oberon and Titania's attention, or the king and queen taking interest in you that made you special?"
Now that's something new. I glared at her and told her to spill the beans.
"There's rumours," she said, twirling her spiked tail. "I think it was Morgana? She took one good look at you when you were just a wee lad and said everyone should kill to have your firstborn. With you. When you grow up. She made that declaration in front of all the Fae during the Solstice. And then she was gone."
"That's it?"
"That's what I heard."
Fucking Morgana barged into some Solstice gathering, said she'd fuck me when I grew up like some old noble trying to raise himself a wife, refused to elaborate further, and left.
Left the entire supernatural world in a confused frenzy.
"Now, I'm not here for your first born. I'm not a fae. I don't care for that shit," she narrowed her eyes, flames flickering from her horns. "I'm here to sell you a new proposal. Let's date officially. Most of those fucking fae will fuck off once they know you're bound to a demoness."
"What's your price?"
"I just wanna spite Morgana. She stole the contract I first established with a cute boy. Maybe make Oberon and Titania twitch a little when their precious godson is hanging out with me."
"No."
She ain't good news. Just like the rest of them. I'm not taking the bait but telling her to get out of my house. No sooner had she left when a banshee floated in.
"Oh yeah?" She sneered. "I don't think so. You said no to that demoness, didn't you?"
"I did. Now what's your deal? Look, I'm not dying any time. Got my godparents covering me. Are you here because someone from around these parts is dying?"
"Aren't you tired of these constant visits?" The banshee flashed me a toothy grin. "I get to scream at them."
Hell no. I don't need sound pollution. I need to sleep and go to work, not have a banshee's wailing keeping me up at night. Probably killing my neighbours too.
"NO?"
"No," I was firm.
When she left dejected, I dashed forward to shut my windows and pulled the curtains. Enough weird women floating into my house like it was open public space. Only to turn around and find some eldritch horror hovering over my coffee table.
"Please don't mind me, I'm only here for your food. Om nom nom."
"Get out!" I grabbed a lamp and swung at it. "One more time someone disturbs me, I'm calling my godparents to deal with you."
"You know, Oberon and Titania are waiting for you to give them a first born too," it was a little grouchy about that bump on its head where I had hit it with my lamp.
"Please don't tell me you want to have my baby."
"You're not my type."
I put the lamp down and offered it a cold bag of beans to soothe that bruise on its head. "What's your deal?"
"I offer matchmaking services," it intoned, still eating my food.
"No. I like being single."
"I can make you pregnant. No spouse needed."
"That's even worse," I sighed.
It waggled a tentacle at me. "I fake your pregnancy. No more firstborn requests."
"Do you know how creepy that sounds? I'm also male."
"I can change that."
"Why? What are you up to?"
"Oberon and Titania want your firstborn. Everyone wants to be the one to induce you to make that happen. But me? I just want food. That, and you're interesting. I can't help being drawn to someone as special as you are. Go with me, you can't go wrong. Let me move in with you. That'll deter the rest of the fae. No firstborns. In the meantime, we could always adopt a puppy. I like puppies."
----
[Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, click here for more prompt responses and short stories written by me.](https://www.reddit.com/r/TregonialWrites/)
|
In ancient times Fae and humans came together to fight a common foe.
Fae alone couldn't face them, humans alone couldn't hurt them.
They won, and the Fae in solidarity, and gratefulness made an oath.
To ensure this alliance won't succumb to the cruel currents of time, each human child shall have two fairy godparents to protect their childhood.
To remind them and open their eyes to the world of Fae.
It has been eons, and this practice continues.
Most children have common Fae, rarely do nobles become godparents, let alone royals.
I on the other hand...
I watched as Titania played with the moon, as an illusion replaced it in the night sky.
And as Oberon shot an arrow through the shadows, before it returning with a huge buck, with a body filled with stars and darkness.
Yep.
My fairy godparents are Queen Titania and King Oberon.
Why? I don't know...yet.
Titania placed the real moon back in the sky, and smiled at me.
"Lily, happy 14th birthday!" she said, handing me a dress made of moonlight.
"Happy birthday! Oberon said, handing me a crown made out of the antlers of the buck.
"Thank you." I smiled, feeling a burden being placed on me.
The two sighed.
"Two more years...it is time to know why us two have agreed to be your godparents." Titania said.
Oberon nodded.
I put their gifts aside, and paid attention to them.
"We taught you history of magic, and the nature of magic and words." Titania said.
"We taught you survival, dreams, about emotions." Oberon started.
I nodded.
Shadows rose around us.
"Dream went missing." Titania said, as she hurled the shadows away.
"And Death never returned after going after him." Oberon said as his arrows shattered the shadows, and the moon shone again.
"Destiny said that the Moon's Flower will help Death find her way back, and together Dream shall be reborn." Titania said.
I froze.
Moon's Flower...that is mom's nickname for me.
"Go, Lily we will protect you." Titania said, as the dress she woven me covered me, along with the crown gifted by Oberon.
"Find The House, and your journey shall start." Oberon said.
" And don't trust those that are kind to you! For from now on, you are against the living and the dead!" Titania said, as I was flown away by the dress in a beam of light.
Confused, afraid, I found myself in the woods somewhere, with a light flickering in the distance...
|
Tregonial
|
TheWanderingBook
|
2025-03-27 17:00:33
|
2025-03-27 16:51:52
| 55 | 31 |
mk1hiv7
|
mk1fntv
|
1jl6lih
|
1jl6lih
|
[WP] You run a Bakery, just a normal bakery, the only problem is that your customers at midnight to 6AM are mythical creatures who pay with gemstones and ancient gold and silver coins
|
Grandmas brilliant idea to save the family bakery through greater volume worked super well.
It also makes training up new workers a tad.
Challenging.
The young lady who applied for the Saturday night shift was a good candidate. PhD students were night ravens anyway, desperate for cash and could usually be relied to stick around until dissertation day, which made the effort worth it.
They were also *usually* clever enough to follow The Rules.
The rules were, literally, on the wall. The rules were in the contract.
They had better odds of sticking if I explained the reasons behind them, so that's the end of every employment interview.
Okay, so to be clear: If you value your soul, your future children and your shadow, you *cannot* accept tips. Or fudge the valuation.
Not ever.
We get all sorts in here, but a good part of our foot traffic are the Fair Folk. You can't reliably spot them, because they can look like whatever they like, but cheating them or accepting gifts from them is just a fantastically bad idea. So rule one: Every customer is to be treated as if they're the Fair Lady Without Mercy.
The customer drops payment on the scale. The platter is cold forged iron so nobody tries on faerie gold, it's certified accurate every month, and you check it with the reference weights before every shift. If it's off, you call the number written on the front and get the spare scale out from the back and check that. Never. Ever, use a scale you know is bad. If both of them are off, that's hostile action and you call me, my mother or my husband.
If it is human coinage, you check the computer for the book value.
Fae, deep one or lunarian coins, we pay daily metal value, because they're always the pure metal and there isn't a secondary market.
You also update that number every shift start. It's on the chalk-board.
Gems, we only take from customers who wish to credit them against their store account against a promise of effort to get the best price. Because valuation is far too dicey.
Any questions?
The young lady looked around the bakery. We're quite proud of how welcoming it is. Nice seating. Good lighting, gleaming copper shelving for the goods.
"Security? I mean, if we're giving out change for gold and silver coinage all night, don't we start the night with oceans of cash and end it with... kilos of noble metals?"
Ah. Well spotted. I smile.
Our customers don't much appreciate thieves. I wont say nobody has ever tried it, but word has gotten around that it is a Bad Idea.
Also, not as much cash as we had to carry even a decade ago. Papa spent a good deal of effort getting our regulars to use the store account system and you credit their change to that.
Some of the more up to date customers will also accept charge back on their phones. Yes. They're at least partially using us to move assets into a regular bank. Don't bring this up unless you want to waste time listening to rants about the perfidy of gold dealers..
Time you wont have. We are a pretty busy place
Anything else?
She smiled a crooked grin at me.
32 euro/hour?
I nod.
She grabs a pen and signs the contract in a rush. Then hesitates as another question occurs to her.
Who do you sell all the gold to?
I grin wickedly.
Goldbugs make up 30% of our morning rush!
|
It's certainly a bit quirky but once you got past appearances these creatures were just like any other customers, some good some bad mostly so so. There was a centaur regular who loved the goat cheese and apple tart you made. Their method of payment, gold coins and gems stones was a bit odd but you don't mind too much, your sister in law is a jewelery maker and she pays you for the coins and gems and her business is booming too. You guess that it's just a consequence of living this close to that weird river mentioned in those urban legends and local fairy tales
|
Izeinwinter
|
Levicorpyutani
|
2024-08-16 21:44:30
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2024-08-16 20:17:56
| 58 | 15 |
lih2ne0
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ligmzt8
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1etpidg
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1etpidg
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[WP] You are a demon and you have been summoned by a mortal. He announced that he has brought you a sacrifice. Except it's the same teenaged girl that people have tried to sacrifice to you 5 times already
|
Sighing internally, the demon quickly scanned her surroundings. The all too familiar summoning circle, whose intricate pattern had somehow made its way into the human's hands stood beneath her, for the seventh time that century. The man who summoned her looked just as erratic as all those who resort to sacrificing in order to summon higher demons.
Blood was dripping from the silver knife in the hands of the summoner. The teenager, bound to the makeshift altar, was rapidly losing that precious life energy that normally kept humans alive.
"What say you, Great Astaroth? Will you accept my offer? Enter a pact with me and you-" the man's pleas were cut short as his head departed from its position on his neck and got acquainted with his feet. The teenager loomed over his still standing corpse for a moment, intently observing the flesh of his neck before a stream of blood came gushing through. At that moment she pushed the body aside, hoping not to get even bloodier than she was already.
Gracefully stepping away from the mess she had made, the teen smiled. "Long time no see, Asty! Didn't cha miss me?" she said, approaching the hulking demon.
"We've talked about this Elizabeth, you can't just go bewitching these fools into summoning me just because you're bored of your fellow humans..." the demon broke the bounds of the circle and walked towards the nearest fallen marble pillar, then sat down, preparing for another endless conversation with the girl that always made her way back to her.
"It would be far easier if I was allowed to summon you by myself... If only you hadn't forbidden that, I wouldn't be forced to get myself a middleman" The teen remarked as she cheerfully followed Astaroth, leaning against her while sitting on the cold marble.
The demon's efforts of distancing herself from the girl bore no success. "The reason you can't directly summon me isn't to force you to find some other way of doing it, it's to stop you from getting more attached to a demon than you already have. Clearly, it's not the best solution..." she observed the girl for a while, then spoke again "Has immortality finally gotten to you? I figure if getting stabbed by demon summoners is a pastime of yours, it might be time to end it. If you want I can-"
"Immortality doesn't bother me so long as I can annoy you every few decades. Why are you so intent on keeping me away? You could always have told me you hate me, or that you can't suffer my presence, and I would probably have left you alone. But noo, you just made it a challenge for me to get to you, as though I didn't enjoy finding workarounds." she said, rolling her eyes.
The demon flexes her wings in a way Liz finds to imply annoyance "You know I couldn't hate you. The circumstances in which I made you immortal, however, make me doubt that this relationship you think we have is anything but some sort of dependency." she sighs melancholically "You're not in that village anymore. You don't need a demon to save you anymore. The only reason I'd find it reasonable for you to call on me would be to end your immortality. I wouldn't want to force you to live longer than you desire"
The look on the immortal's face was quite startled for a moment, then it relaxed into an amused expression. "So that's it? That's what this was all about? Since when are demons so concerned with the emotional health and well-being of their contractors...?"
Elizabeth stood up and faced the demon. "Back then I truly was a soul as old as this body, I was terrified of everything and maybe I did lean too much on your help. The time we spent together then is something I still treasure, but it's nothing more than the distant past. Right now I don't need you to do anything for me. You are simply the only friend I have that shares my memories from hundreds of years ago. I think it's fair not to want to lose that. "
After a short staring match, the demon relented "Since it is clear that I can't keep you away, I suppose I shall allow you to summon me directly. No need to get more people killed out of sheer stubbornness..." Astaroth had no opportunity to start a lecture as Elizabeth jumped in for a hug, unbothered by the demon's metallic skin.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Had an urge for a happy ending today, as it happens. Not sure what to think about this one. I think I enjoy writing dialogue but I have no clue whether it's any good. So if you did read this painfully long creation of mine I'd appreciate hearing if you had any feedback.
|
“I have summoned you, Kothox!!! I wish for a chance at love!!!”
“Very Well. But you shall prepare a sacrifice of something you hold dear, or a virgin girl.”
“I have a virgin here. I have prepared her on the altar.”
“Very well. May I see her?”
“Yes! Yes, you may master!!!”
As he uncovers the cloth covering her…
“*sigh.* hello Andrea.”
I cover my face in vain.
“What’s wrong, master? And that is not my name.”
“This virgin has been attempted to be sacrificed roughly five times to me, and this is the sixth. She pretends to be asleep, sweeps your legs, knocks you out, breaks the ritual torches, and ends by dropping the chandelier from the ceiling onto me so I fall back into Hell.”
“This sounds absurd, master. Are you sure-“
At the exact cliché moment, she sweeps the guys legs, and knocks him out.
“You won’t be sacrificing me today, Kothox!!!”
“Look, this is the sixth time; I give up fighting, you can leave. I don’t care anymore.”
“As if I’m going to believe that!”
She then proceeds to do the same exact thing she has done before. Run up the stairs; break touches that are required for the ritual; and gets ready to drop-kick the chandelier on me.
I catch her before she can.
“Look, I said I give up! You don’t need to do this. How are you still getting caught!? Stop walking the darkest path on the road! You won’t be kidnapped in the open!”
“Oh yeah? What about this?”
She starts to wriggle in my hand, struggling to escape. After a few minutes, she stoped and softly said,
“….can you put me down please?”
I put her down.
“Haha!!! You have fallen for my trap!!!”
She starts kicking, and punching at me at my waist in vain. I’m towering above her by the way, and the circle is at my waist anyway.
I pick her back up, open the door outside, and place her outside. She runs away screaming “I’ll get you soon!!!”
God, I hope not. And yes. I asked God.
|
Blue_Shirt_Hornet
|
Professional_Device9
|
2023-03-10 21:11:23
|
2023-03-10 19:24:31
| 359 | 244 |
jbq3q9o
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jbpnfih
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11nu4j6
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11nu4j6
|
[WP] It was the funeral of your grandfather who used to be a hero. He was just a low rank hero, but was extremely kind. On the day of his burial, you were surprised at the number of people attending. Upon looking closer, you realize they were former and currently infamous villains of their time.
|
"Carl," Linda whispered. "That man over there. Doesn't he look like Doom Master?"
*What made you think that?* Carl thought. *The robot laser eye, or the trio of badly disguised android henchmen?* What he said out loud was, "I'm sure it's just your imagination, love."
". . . Carl, I'm pretty sure that's Cybermentor," Linda went on. "Isn't he the one who held the United Nations hostage last month? Someone should do something. . ."
"Well, given that his arch-nemesis Hyperion is sitting across the aisle from him and isn't doing anything, I don't think anything you or I could do is going to matter, honey," Carl hissed between his teeth.
"Carl! I'm serious!" Linda hissed. "This entire funeral is filled with SUPERVILLAINS!"
"Linda. . ." Carl sighed and glanced around the chapel. The services weren't about to start for another fifteen minutes, so he took Linda by the arm and gently led her into the narthex. "All right, Linda. You're right. The entire supervillain community is here for my Grand-Dad's funeral. I don't know why any more than you do, but it probably has SOMETHING to do with the fact that Skywatch called Mom last Thursday and asked to give the eulogy."
"Skywatch!?" Linda gasped. "Reverend McEnroe is Skywatch?!"
"Keep it down!" Carl hissed. He looked around the church lobby, but the mourners seemed undisturbed by the conversation. "Look, I don't understand this either. I mean, I know Grand-Dad was a small-time hero when he was younger, but nobody really gives a crap about Captain Liberty these days. Let's just get through the service, and maybe someone will explain this to us once this is all over."
Linda didn't seem to like that, but she quietly acquiesced, and the couple returned to their seat. As the organist finished their prelude, and the mourners took their seats, a tall, iron-haired woman in black clerical robes took to the pulpit.
"Please be seated," Reverend Isabel McEnroe said.
A hundred-odd friends, family, and the most powerful superheroes and villains in the world took their seats.
"We are gathered here today to lay to rest the man whom many of you knew as Dr. Grant Mason. Many others knew of him as Captain Liberty: a superhero active during the post World-War II years for about a decade and a half. Captain Liberty had a modest career as a superhero and crimefighter, before hanging up his cape. . . most people believed, for good." The reverend took a deep breath. "To most of you, Dr. Mason's superhero career ended there. But. . . among those of us who wear the cape and mask, Dr. Mason's hero career began on the day that he put away his cape and donned doctor's whites for the first time.
"Because, despite what the public believed, Captain Liberty did not lose his cosmic powers during the battle against The Menace From the Stars. Dr. Grant Mason retained his cosmic strength, his laser vision, and his super-speed and flight. However, it was his wish that this fact be kept secret. . . not only from the public, but from his closest friends and family as well. Only those of us who were there, at the final confrontation against the Menace, would be allowed to know his secret."
The reverend took a deep, shuddering breath, eyes haunted. "The Menace, we learned on that day, was not an alien being bent on conquest. The Menace was the final form of Dr. Grant Mason, come from the future to conquer the past. During that final confrontation with the combined forces of the Guardians of Earth and the Legions of Evil, we learned that Captain Liberty was destined to lead the Guardians in one final battle against the Legions of Evil. . . a battle during which all life on Earth would die. This moment. . . the Singularity Point. . . was a fixed moment in time. An inevitability. Captain Liberty had come from the future to change the past over and over and over again, sustained by cosmic energy into a lifetime of tens of thousands of years, until transformed into the being that emerged over Star City on that fateful day fifty years ago.
"Grant saw that there was no future during which Captain Liberty would not become the Menace from The Stars. . . and so, he created a future where there would be no Captain Liberty. Only Grant Mason, a quiet country doctor with a quiet little practice in a quiet town in the midwestern United States.
"I don't know that there is anyone else in this room who would have had the strength to do what he did. To live an entire life knowing that you possessed the power to change the world, and never doing so. To know every single moment of your life that you possessed the power of a living god. . . could grasp the power of the cosmos itself. . . but to do so would inevitably lead to the end of all life on Earth.
"Without drawing upon the cosmic power within him, Grant's life ebbed away as normal human lives do. Though long-lived, his body began to fade and die. Cancer. What must it have been like to face the end of your life, knowing that all you had to do was reach out and grasp the power at your fingertips, and death would pass you by? I do not believe I would have had the strength. I know all here feel the same.
The reverend reached into her coat and pulled out a silver and blue domino mask. She donned it in silence. "As the Reverend McEnroe, I am here today to lay to rest my old friend, Dr. Grant Mason. As the superheroine Skywatch, I am here to celebrate the success of my old friend Captain Liberty's final mission. The Bible says that, through Christ, we triumph over death in new life. . . I know that in his death, Grant triumphed over the greater death that lay in our future. I pray that the Lord takes him safe into their loving arms, and I know that the gates of heaven stand ready to welcome him safe."
There was a quiet murmuring and the sound of sliding cloth. Carl turned to see half the people in the chapel reaching into their jackets to pull out masks and don them in unison. The Garden Master. Pirate Pete. Annihilatrix. Iceglider. Killer Bee. The greatest heroes and villains of the Golden Age now sat in silent unison to witness the passing of the greatest of their own.
Skywatch nodded quietly. "Thank you," she said. "Now, I'd like to pass the mic to someone who needs no introduction. Oliver?"
The hulking five-hundred pound form of The Terrifying Brute rose from the church pew with the creaking of old wood and older joints. With titanium cane in hand, the giant lizard-beast hobbled his way up the steps to the pulpit, assisted by a younger lizard-girl in a black suit. Pausing for a moment to pay respects at the open casket, the monster stomped slowly to the microphone, adjusted it, gave a rheumy cough, and began to speak.
"The first time Brute meet Captain," he growled, "Captain punched Brute in face. It was okay. Brute was eating doggy at the time. But dat was how Brute meet Captain, and Captain help turn Brute from Bad Guy to Good Guy. . .
|
You know a bunch of them. Megathor, the arch villain of the eighties. He is now a gigantic old man, he still has his signature wide plump mustache. But his long black hairs are gone. Next to him is Crimelia, his old right-hand and lover. She is surprisingly beautiful for a sixty year old woman. Tall and graceful, her bright fiery hazel eyes are now filled with sadness and grief.
Twins, Sin and Vice a row behind them. Both in identical black suits. Hard to believe those two calm and mild mannered old men used to be the most evil villains of their time. There are more but you don't remember their names. In fact there are more villains, former enemies of your grandpa at the funeral than there are colleagues or government officials.
At the reception, Megathor and Crimelia approach you. Both are wearing formal dresses. Meghthor is a neck and shoulder taller than anyone you ever saw. His broad shoulders fell in sorrow:
-hello young man. Are you Jeff's grandson?
-Yes. I'm Mike.
-So you are Mike. He spoke highly of you. I reckon you know us?
-Few people don't Mr Megathor.
-Call me Bob please. Those days are long gone. And this is Carmen. You might know her as Crimelia.
-Please bobby. You know I hate that name.
Your grandpa was the best man I have ever met. And I met the whole bunch of them. Fought many. Many were stronger, smarter, none had his character.
-Can I ask what are you doing here? No disrespect but weren't you guys enemies?
Bob: Well we were enemies. In the battlefield. We fought for different causes. It has been so long I don't remember what for. We didn't do bad things for the fun of it. We did it because we thought it was the right thing to do. You see, right and wrong are not always so clear. So pure. They are, more complex than that. And Jeff knew that.
Carmen: He never judged us. He was always ready to hear our point of view. He was what's our society today is missing. A good enemy. And without good enemies, there can't be true friendship either.
Bob: We had a son. He was six when he died of cancer. God...It still hurts. Jeff was there for us. He wept with us, comforted us, hell he even managed the funeral service himself because I was drunk all the times .What a man he was.
Speaking of drinks. Anyone want a refill?
And he proceeds to find another drink.
Carmen: He is already drunk. Didn't saw him this messed up in a long time.
Jeff was like an older brother to him. Once Bob went to Soviet Russia to rescue Jeff from the Soviet prison. Another time Jeff almost got prosecuted for letting Bob walk away against orders to kill him.
When Bob came back, Twins are with him. Bob is holding two glasses full of drink in his massive hands.
-Sin: Our condolences son.
-Vice: Your grandpa was the reason our life turned around.
-Sin: We beat him more times than he did, you knew?
We won most battles against him. But lost all the wars.
Vice: He used to say "The true win is not to win the fight, but to win the heart of the enemy."
-Sin: And he did. We came back to college thanks to him. He paid our tuition fee. We still kept making trouble. But he never gave up. Wish our own father was like him.
Vice takes another sip from his whisky. Everyone remained silent for some times. You wonder how your funeral would be? Will your enemies mourn your departure? Your grandpa...you felt a sudden rush of sadness. A drop of tear drops from your eyes.
Carmen rised her glass:
To Jeff. A great friend and even a better enemy. May his soul be in peace.
-"To Jeff." Everyone replied.
You drink your whisky. It makes your inside burn. You feel sad. Not for your grandpa. He lived a great life. But for the world, a world which needs such a man more than ever.
|
ArgumentativeNerfer
|
Successful_Craft3076
|
2023-03-31 18:52:13
|
2023-03-31 15:43:12
| 315 | 153 |
jefxxyk
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jef4zpw
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127iqw9
|
127iqw9
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[WP] “When the Old Gods returned, they were surprised how easy it was to amass an army of followers. Turned out all they had to do was offer fair wages and good benefits, with reasonable deadlines and working conditions”
|
Ashganzal the Tormented reclined on this throne, frustrated.
"Idiots," he growled. "I'm surrounded by idiots."
The quivering demon before him trembled. "Master, forgiveness!"
Ashganzal was tempted to wipe it from existence.
Except...
He checked the demon's stats.
Literate.
Understood math. At least it wouldn't multiply seventeen and seventeen and get two hundred and eighty four.
A leader amongst it's kind. Could get a force of demons to charge an enemy fortification. At least they' all attack the same fortification and not their goblin allies - or worse, each other.
In his younger years he'd lost a dozen armies to that tendency.
So, he sighed. "You are forgiven. This time. Be aware, my patience is not endless."
The demon bowed deeply, its gratitude visible. "Gratefulness, exalted one!" With a Crack and the smell of burning sulphur, it teleported away.
Ashganzal let it go.
He reflected that there were tens of millions of demons, billions of goblins, millions of trolls in his empire... and yet the ones who could actually think were a tiny fraction of the lot.
A chime sounded.
He waved a hand, and an image flickered into existence in mid-air.
The being that it revealed was twisted. Literally twisted, it's skin running at unnatural angles and intersecting with itself in manners that would drive a lesser being mad.
"Tormanzal," Ashganzal intoned. "Brother. Or... is it sister now?"
His sibling cackled. "This week I identify as male," it snickered. "Gender is such a fluid concept for us. Endlessly fascinating."
"You've been flipping between the same two genders for two thousand years."
"Still fascinating. Do you remember Nehantaya?"
At that name, Ashganzal sat up. "How would I forget? She changed everything. Such a bright spark..."
"We still use her tactics to organize the lesser races."
"I find myself measuring every demonlord against her."
"And they all fall short," cackled Tormanzal.
"She could organize a ball, plan an invasion, schedule provisions for tens of thousands of different warriors, make those stupid succubi pretty...."
"A genius, indeed. Did you know she always claimed to be a humble librarian's daughter, among her people?"
Ashganzal snorted. "She should have been a princess. She should have been a Queen."
"I never detected her to speak falsely."
"Nor I. That does not change the fact that she was brilliant." Ashganzal sighed. "We gave her the best of our magics to extend her lifespan, every elixir we could find - we sacrificed demons to grant their longevity to her.... and yet, she only lived with us for two and a half centuries. Such a short time."
"That is the limitation of all such magic, brother. The best it can do is grant mortals ten times the natural span of their kind."
"With a hundred like her we could control all of the multiverse."
Tormanzal snickered again. "Then you shall enjoy the news I bring."
"What news?"
"Someone attempted to summon me last night."
It was Ashganzal's turn to chuckle. "Did you teach the presumptuous upstart the error of their ways?"
"I said attempted. The words were flawed, the intent was misaligned, and the magic chakras might as well have been nonexistent."
"And this amateur started their summoning career by invoking .... you. The Daemon Sultan's secondborn. What species were they anyway? Demon, gargoyle, troll shaman, goblin?"
"HUMAN, actually."
|
There was an earth-shattering noise that came with Them when They crashed onto our planet. The Royals and Academies sent out their armies to clash in the fields. But They had no armies.
Bathed in the noise of the wind whistling through Their asteroids' strange architecture, They were undefeatable. They expanded their territories, devouring Knight and Wizards alike. Back then, They needed no armies.
That was until the Royals and the Academies schemed together to destroy their asteroids, to silence the music of the Old Gods.
It was then that They appealed to the weakness of the Royals and the Academies; with sweet words, miraculous medical plans, and wages you would kill for, They turned the workers over to Their side.
|
Danguard2020
|
indignant_dude
|
2023-05-01 04:50:28
|
2023-05-01 03:02:23
| 302 | 15 |
jiea2bb
|
jidz8hz
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1348ffx
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1348ffx
|
[WP] You always got strange looks whenever you fed the neighborhood ravens. "I give them food, they give me company," you'd say. One day, a raven excitedly comes up to you and whispers, "A neighbor plots against you, my lord."
|
I stand and throw off my cape, hold my hands behind my back and begin pacing.
"This is troubling news. Who is it?" I ask.
"Karen, shes requested some outsiders to take you to a dungeon, or worse." The Raven said.
Just then someone rang the bell of my fortress.
"To the battlements!" I cried and charged up the stairs to the wall, the Ravens flew up and perched on the battlements.
"Its the hired thugs!" One said.
I arrived at the wall atop the gate to see two men wearing blue uniforms.
"Friend or foe?" I asked.
"Sir, you can't just build like this, its a code violation and you need a building permit." One man said.
I cackled. "Fool! This county does not require permits and my fortress is entirely up to code!"
"How did you even build this over night? Your neighbor said there was nothing here last night."
I laughed. "My magic is strong."
"Are you high?"
"High on this wall!"
"I smell weed. Open the gate sir."
"Never! This is my fortress and only I decide who enters and who leaves!"
I dashed down the stairs and grabbed the bucket of water balloons I had filled for just this occasion and went back up to my handmade catapult on the wall and loaded it with a water balloon. "Be gone ye scoundrels!" I yelled and let the ballon loose, it missed.
"Thats assault, I'm calling the SWAT team!" One man yelled and ran back to his car.
"Call all the teams you want, only the Harlem globetrotters can defeat me!" I said. The other man just stood there.
While the enemy was besieging me waiting for reinforcements a bunch of kids rode up on bikes.
"Dude, that is cool as hell!" One said.
"Everyone get back, this man is dangerous!" One of the blue men said. Blue men? Weren't they just wearing blue before? Nevermind.
"I'm dangerous only to those who seek to harm me!" I said and chucked a water balloon at the blue man. It hit him in the head and soaked him. The kids laughed.
"Hey, can we come in?" One kid asked.
"Of course!" I said and ran to the gate to allow the children in. The blue man tried to stop them but they managed to trip him and all got inside. We tossed more water balloons at him once the kids were in. The kids called their friends and soon we had nearly 2 dozen children lining the walls and twice that in ravens before the swat team showed up. This was going to be a battle for the ages.
To be continued
|
I look at the Raven who has spoken now and recognize it is one of the oldest of this Murder. I sigh. “Which one is it this time, Orwell?”
I call him Orwell, as his true name would not be pronounceable in any of the human languages. Orwell looks at me, bows his Head, and says it’s the one you call Emily, the one who feeds the pigeons over at the playground.
I sigh and pack up the foods I have with me for the crow. To the human eye I look like a late 30s woman, bleak and with white hair with a black streak in them. I do like the look but have to change it every few decades. After packing up I gesture to Orwell, I whisper spread the Word to the other Murders, Emily is a powerful enemy and it has been a while since we went to war, but she knows better.
For those who don’t know me both me and Emily would be what would be called Eldritch gods nowadays. So to speak we and a bunch of others are neighbours in a way incomprehensible, but a relatable explanation might be that our home dimensions are next to each other. While I am a Force that thrives and by removing the left overs so to speak, Emily is a force of dirt, she decays everything, hence her affiliation with Pidgeons and mine with crows. She thrives in human cities, I don’t but since humanity stopped the classic wars with battlefields and the dead left rotting in the past 100-200 years or so, this is my best feeding ground. You could say I’m a force of nature, Emily on the other hand is a force that destroys it, she thrives in the current age of urbanisation.
So this should set the stage for this. I make my way through the city, my Crows follow me, they sit on the roofs, on the wires carrying the electricity keeping the humans dry, warm, and their food cold. Some flu ion the skies and through their eyes I keep an eye on myself. It comes with its perk not being bound to the human concept of reality. I watch myself through thousands of eyes and my Crows at the same time. It’s a grey day, wet and way to warm. Climate change. Bringing decay to the whole world. Stupid Humans. I’ll have to do something soon, but first we have to deal with Emily.
We’re halfway there. I start noticing a rat here and there on the tracks of the city transport tracks. I’m wondering then my Crows start to notice more and more rats here. I keep my eyes out through them and I start to notice they are all around me. Damn. Stuart must have allied himself to Emily. They share a lot after all. He is breeding and flooding the world with his rats, breeding, well like Humans, without any consideration for the resources, consuming themselves and their surroundings, thriving in Decay. Suddenly I notice a hand on my bodies shoulder, My crows see shadows. I turn around and stare in the green eyes of a redheaded Woman in her early twenties. She is unearthly attractive and smiles at me, not her eyes though. A human wouldn’t be able to resist, but I’m no mere Human. I give the Woman a look and say. “Why are you here Sharon?”
I use. My sisters human name, after all her real name would probably cause the continent to break apart and sink. No fun in that and my Crows like the land. Shanon continues to smile and says, “Well I heard Emily is back in Town and Stuart’s dirty little rats are on the move. I figured you could need some help.” She smileys and I notice glowing eyes in the shadows staring at me. Shannon was always catlike and like her chosen familiars in this world she likes it clean and she loves to hunt. She is however an unreliable ally at best.
She reaches out and softly caresses my cheek, “Dear sister, this is bigger than you and Emily, there are almost all forces on the move, the primordial ones the younger ones, even the humans start to notice there is something wrong”
I look at her and ask “Come on spit it out what IS happening?”. She pouts and says “Come with me. We need to talk” She suddenly looks seriously, very unnerving as she is usually not one to be direct. Again I look at her and ask ”Sharon what is going on?” She sighs and whispers a thought, the word itself would cause well apocalyptic events, but it means so much more. Call it Apocalypse, End-times, Ragnarök, really whatever you want, it means not only the end of the world, it would mean the end of existence.
I don’t look at Shannon. I mentally let my Crows know I need to go and keep an eye out on Emily but do not engage. I tell them to spread the word. Find out who we can rely on, and who might be on the other side.
Sharon and I disappear into another realm. This one presents like an old Pub, however there are no walls. Just an endless Pub. Sharon gestures to follow her, it seems a lot of us are here. We haven’t had an amount of us meeting in, well in Aeons, if time would be a concept we paid much attention to.
|
Fredlyinthwe
|
StorminWolf
|
2023-09-02 15:45:14
|
2023-09-02 14:22:35
| 19 | 12 |
jytkk3s
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jyt7pmp
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167njgm
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167njgm
|
[WP] The ship was a sitting duck, the pilot AI core had been destroyed, the ship cannot be piloted manually, you look at the last spare core in front of you, it's covered in notes "priorities set up wrong, do not use" "training failed" "Persistent delusional personality" "send to lab for study"
|
I held my breath and plugged it in.
ONLINE
Said the screen. Momentarily, the speakers activated.
"Well hello there! I'm your… AAAAAAH"
The AI continued screaming for five more seconds.
"Holy crud how did you get into this mess? Okay, first things first, the coffee maker on deck 2 is damaged."
My heart sank. This was not a good start.
"But there's not much I can do about that without getting to port for repairs. Hmm. Seems like there's a squadron of fighters coming around for an attack pass, and that coffee maker is going to be in much worse shape if they shoot at it, so, playing dead for a moment so they use guided bombs instead of more expensive missiles, then…"
At the last moment, we accelerated in a way the bombs' guidance could not match while maintaining maneuvering room for evasion, which made them easy pickings for the ship's point defenses.
Okay, that's not so bad.
"All right, that's taken care of."
No it isn't.
"Aww shoot. They're going to come around for another pass at our coffee maker, aren't they? Does the Nestlé cartel really hate us that much?"
No, but if your thinking that's why we're fighting keeps you fighting, I won't interfere. Not a single word.
"Yes, it seems like they do!"
BAFFLES SET TO 15.4°
That was rather oblique for deflecting blaster fire. The shots would still hit the ship, but probably too weakly to damage it much. It wasn't a favored tactic, but it was considered potentially viable. Maybe this was a good time for it.
"Pivoting blasters… bank shot!"
Did he just… shoot at them by bouncing the shot off our own baffles?
"Oh yeah, you thought I was aiming at the leader didn't you? And now let's turn up the heat…"
BLASTER FOCUS SET TO 2km
He was aiming directly at them now, but the blasters were set for extremely short range action rather than the long distance they were at. The beam's divergence after that range made it too diffuse to be a proper attack, though it would still warm them. And it would be completely undodgeable.
"Modulating the blaster power to send a message in Morse code… "
Uh-oh.
"Why… did the bean… commit… suicide? To meet its coffee maker! Die, Nestlé scum!"
BLASTER FOCUS SET TO 150km
BLASTER OVERTEMP. AUTOMATIC SHUTOFF ENGAGED.
And he didn't override the auto shutoff due to it being a combat situation? Okay…
"Aww, I had to rush the punchline. Anyway, I don't think those missiles will be firing after that much fuzz on them. Not until they've been recalibrated, anyway. You have no good way to hurt us now. So shoo!"
And indeed, they broke off their pass and slowly glided around at long distance, as if trying to figure out what to do.
I decided it was time to act. I didn't trust my voice, so I typed,
> Coffee machine repair facilities will be available at Starbase 17. 50% off, even.
"Oh, I can never resist a discount. Course set."
We started acelerating as if just proceeding normally, not as a combat maneuver. Our attackers broke off.
Getting him to land on the pad instead of a donut shop parking lot was another adventure.
|
"...well", I thought aloud, "I suppose a 99% chance of death is better than my current 100%. Fuck it."
Moving the A.I. core was easy, since the artificial gravity had failed a few hours ago. It was more like trying to walk an overactive terrier on a leash than moving a piece of million dollar technology. I gave it a shove towards the core console and allowed my own momentum to help me follow it, like the mighty Thor throwing his hammer and flying along behind it. Only I wasn't being portrayed by a remarkably handsome actor on a green screen.
The core spun through the empty bridge like a planet rotating on its axis, complimented by the red emergency lighting playing the role of the sun and providing a day / night cycle. The various warning labels crested and fell like continents amongst a metallic ocean as it spun. As it approached the console link port, the magnetic plug awaiting within forced the planet metaphor to fall apart as it oriented itself appropriately. With a soft click, the orb docked with its counterpart.
I pulled myself along the console like a child in a swimming pool grasping the cement walls, with almost as much fear. As I reached the emergency power manual pump, I took a moment to steady my nerves. Was this really better than starving, or freezing, or asphyxiation, or any of the other certain deaths that I would experience if I just did nothing?
I pumped the handle, generating enough charge to power the computer start-up sequence. Hopefully this would also activate the emergency generator, or else the freezing and / or asphyxiation scenario would receive the highest betting odds to be my cause of death. With a trembling hand, I secured the handled back in place, and pressed the big green button labeled "Run".
"What in tarnation? Where am I? What is this?" The A.I. shouted in alarm as it awoke. "The Sam Hell am I doin' here?"
Um... that was... unexpected.
"Erm, hi" I said, waving at the now glowing A.I. "My name is-"
"Carlin Bartholomew, Astronaut, age 38, NASA-UN joint deep space research vessel Columbus" the A.I. said, rattling off the information like it was reading it off a highway billboard with bored disinterest. "That's an easy assumption, since that there's the only life sign showin' on my doohicky here" it said, and I could have sworn it made the sound of someone using a spitoon for its original purpose.
"Well, only Human life sign, at least" it added in a mumble.
"What? Computer, explain-"
"Jimbob" it interrupted.
"...What?" I asked, stumbling on my words.
"The name's Jimbob, not 'computer'. That's just plain rude." The machine definitely made a spitting sound this time. "It'd be like me callin' you 'human', or 'alien food', or whathave'ya".
"Look... Jimbob, what is this non-human life sign you keep mentioning?" I asked bluntly before the Southern supercomputer could ramble. "Is there an alien on-board? Am I in danger?"
"Well, y'are in danger" Jimbob the A.I. said nonchalantly, like he was trying to decide which beverage to pair with a meal. "I don't think you've got enough food to last until help can get its ass in gear and tow ya' back to Earth. Especially if that space critter keeps eatin' it like that."
My eyes darted around the cabin, suddenly seeing a monster hiding behind every shadow, a mirage of a nightmare or a childhood boogeyman. "Jimbob, what is the 'critter' you keep mentioning, and can I kill it with something nearby?"
"Hmm" Jimbob said, pausing briefly. "I s'pose it would die if we drove into that there star". A helpful light blinked near the window currently showing the massive ball of plasma at the center of this system. "Unless it's from there, in which case, we wouldn't be alive to know."
I put a hand to my temple, trying to massage away my frustration. "Am I in danger from the alien?" I said, enunciating each syllable as clearly as possible.
"Erm, maybe. I don' reckon it'd be too bad of a fight. Y'all humans have killed way bigger critters than that'n" it said. "Course those were with guns, mostly. Some pollution here and there. And one unlucky sonofabitch in an underwater nuke test."
"CAN. I. FIGHT. IT." I shouted at the machine. "Is there a gun somewhere, a fire axe, a loose pipe, anything I can use as a weapon?"
"Yep".
I waited for the A.I. to elaborate, but it declined.
"...can you tell me what and where it is?" I asked, trying to maintain my composure in a Herculean effort.
"Yeah, I think so." The A.I. said.
Another short pause broke me. I couldn't take this anymore.
"WHERE IS IT?" I screamed, pounding my fist against the console and sending myself floating into the zero gravity bridge. I tried to slow my momentum with small arm waves, but it was too little too late.
I slammed into the window with the blinking light, and heard a sharp **crack** sound as-
The glass erupted outwards into the void of space. I was fortunate enough to lose consciousness before I died, probably to asphyxiation. It was a better death than I could have hoped for.
Back in the control room, Jimbob tried to make his spitting sound again, but nothing happened. The A.I. ran a diagnostic on itself and the ship it now controlled, finding several small errors that were easily fixed. This self-repair cleared several issues, including the erroneous life readings scanner. It now accurately identified the lab rat in the science bay as 'non-hostile test subject', instead of its previous designation of 'incredibly hostile alien'.
Jimbob the A.I. made a self congratulatory note in its debugging log.
r/slightlycoldstories for more like this, but with different characters, plots, and events. Maybe time periods too.
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Drachefly
|
SlightlyColdWaffles
|
2023-02-10 19:11:04
|
2023-02-10 17:49:15
| 106 | 56 |
j80kzw9
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j808f5k
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10yox47
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10yox47
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[WP] You were sure your girlfriend knew your secret identity, so you were happy to flirt with her both in and out of costume. But today she confessed to cheating on you. With you.
|
"Okay, walk that by me one more time. You've been...cheating on me? With who?"
I watched the tears well up in her eyes again. She had been crying all afternoon and wouldn't talk to me, and the moment she finally approached me I went still in case I spooked her like her cat. She finally made the confession in between desperate gasps of air, so I gave her a few minutes to visibly relax before I responded.
"W-With V...Vanguard." She let out another startled gasp as my eyes widened in surprise. But I wasn't surprised because she said my superhero name; I was surprised because I thought she had figured it out.
But she took my shock the other way, and began to speak so fast I couldn't interrupt. "I know, Vanguard, right? How could a nobody like me meet him? But you don't understand, he flirted with me first using that same cheesy line you used and it just- UGH! Right through my damn heart. I never thought I'd fall for that dumb line twice, let alone once, but FUCK that armor looks so good on him. Every time I pull up a video of him flying around on Youtube I get so-"
"Wait!" I interrupted, confused. Mostly because I haven't even touched her as Vanguard. Any time I had moved closer since she first saw me in costume a month ago, she backed away subtly. I let her have her space after I tried to get closer twice. "What do you mean you've cheated on me with him? What have you done?"
"Well...I mean, it was just the talking and the flirting. But, I feel this strong attachment to him and it's tearing me apart that I still feel the same way about you! I know we've been dating for a year, but at this point it's practically an affair of the heart and-"
"Stop," I said with a solid tone. It took her a moment, but she let the words die on her lips. "I want you to just take a minute to get some deep breaths in. I have a response to what you've said, but I want you to take a moment and just try to feel better. Please?"
I gave her my best puppy-dog eyes, and she nodded even as she began to cry again. *Crap, probably shouldn't have done the cute thing when she's already this sad about thinking she cheated on me.* It took another few minutes, during which I made us a pot of coffee. She nearly began crying again when she could smell I made her favorite flavor, but by the time I handed her the cup *(not in her favorite cup, that would just make her feel worse)* she was sitting and breathing normally.
"Okay. Firstly, flirting isn't necessarily cheating."
"It is! Affairs of the heart are just as serious-"
"Hang on, let me explain. Your brother, Greg, is in a polyamorous relationship, right?"
"Uh huh," she nodded.
"Do you think he started dating them both at the same time? No. He started by dating Charlie, and then they mutually added Kyle after he expressed interest in Charlie."
"Okay..." She seemed to be thinking deeply as she took a sip, so I finished the thought.
"The difference is communication. Charlie told Greg about Kyle on day one, so they were able to set boundaries together."
"But I didn't tell you, so I-"
"Babe, hang on."
She stopped and nodded, taking another sip before setting the coffee down.
"Secondly, you didn't need to tell me because I thought you had it figured out."
The confusion on her face had me almost bursting out laughing. "Figured...what out?"
The amusement erupted from my face in a grin that nearly hurt my cheeks. I let out Vanguard's golden Aura of Protection and said the line for a third time. "Well, I'm here. What are your other two wishes?" I would later be glad that she was sitting and had set the hot coffee down, given that she passed out right on the spot.
|
My heart was racing, the memory of last night's adventure still pulsing through me. After a year of exhilarating chases through the streets and sweet nothings whispered on rooftops, Wave Rider had finally won over the most formidable catch, Miranda. Under the moonlight, our passions mixed, I had never felt more invincible. As Wave Rider, I was the protector, the problem solver, and now, a lover. Today, as Derrick, I was ready to turn up the volume on our romance.
I escorted her back to her apartment before returning to base to stash my suit. The curious questions of my heroic compadres barely registered, my ears filled with the symphony of love. Back at my apartment building, the elderly couple that often looked out for me giggled from behind.
"Someone had a grand night!" Mary chortled.
"That's the grin of a fool in love, my dear," John whispered, not so quietly.
"Oh, you never do that with me anymore." Mary nudged him playfully with her purse.
He gave her a careful dip, and I exited the elevator amidst the sounds of their tender romance.
Morning was already in full swing outside, and I hadn't had a wink of sleep. Thankfully, I had recently stocked up Hero 6's special coffee blend. The sweet aroma filled my small kitchen, a gentle reminder of the ordinary life I led. By night, I was Wave Rider, surfing soundwaves, fighting villains, and stealing kisses now. However, vigilantism didn't pay the bills. By day, I was Derrick, a struggling musician entertaining at backyard parties. All Derrick could afford was a small studio packed with secondhand music equipment on the west side of Rayborn City.
As I prepared a hot pocket in the microwave, my thoughts drifted to planning another romantic day with Miranda. The microwave beeped, waking me up just as keys jingled at the door. I turned to greet her.
"Miranda, what's -"
Her face was a mask of despair. Tears welled in the corners of her big brown eyes. A lump formed in my throat. She crumbled into my arms, trembling.
"I'm so sorry," she wept into my chest.
"For what? What happened?" I was ready to swing into action, suited or not.
"I just wasn't thinking," she continued.
"Miranda, thinking about what? Whatever it is, we can work it out."
She clung to me, then sighed, "I spent.. the night with someone else."
The words lingered between us like a live wire. My heart clenched, and I pulled back to look at her face - red and streaked with tears. The confusion, the guilt – it was all all there.
I was stumped. She was with me last night. Could Illusio have manipulated her memory since I left her? A frown creased my brow as I descended into a whirlpool of possibilities.
Her eyes locked onto mine, mistaking my intense expression.
"I woke up feeling like such a fool. After this year with you, how did it go this far?" She pulled away and paced the tiny living room.
"What did they look like? Who was it?"
"No! I don't want you fighting anyone. He can kill you with just a word!"
I tried to lighten the mood. "Hey, give me some credit. You've seen me in action. I'm pretty capable." I struck a pose, but she looked at me as if a roach was dancing on my shoulder. I looked just in case.
"What are you talking about?" She asked.
I reached out and gently caressed her cheek. She sighed and leaned into my touch. "Just tell me. I promise I won't act recklessly."
"It was.. Wave Rider," she whispered. She withdrew again, moving to the couch.
I froze. But, I'm Wave Rider.
"He started flirting with me out of the blue. It went on for months. I thought he was just being funny at first, but every night he was out, he found me."
Miranda turned and locked eyes with me again. I tilted my head to one side like a confused puppy.
"Before I knew it... Ugh! I love you!"
I said nothing, trying to make sense of it all.
"Didn't you hear me? I love you! But..." She slumped onto my couch, hands covering her face. "I don't know what to do," she mumbled.
The irony was not lost on me. Betrayal stung, but the lie hurt more.
Miranda had approached Wave Rider, me, first. That's where the whole confusion began. The Heroes 6 were out for a public Q&A session, basic PR stuff, when she wiggled her way past security to get us for autographs. She was so confident, so comfortable, I was convinced she saw right through me. She even inspired my suit upgrade because I felt so exposed. She hadn't mentioned it afterwards, and I assumed she was just protecting my secret.
Well, I had learned a thing or two about assumptions.
Now, she portrayed herself as an innocent swept up in the irresistible charm of a persistent hero. I slumped into my own chair, thinking it over. Should I break up with her for cheating with me? That made no sense! But she lied. But maybe because she wanted to be with me. Maybe Illusio got a power boost and manipulated her memories, from half a-fucking year ago. He had promised to hurt me good after that last fight. Or, was I just in a competition with myself?
"Aren't you going to say something?" Miranda interrupted my thoughts.
I shrugged and managed a weak smile. "Wave Rider, huh? How could a guy like me compete with the chance with a super?" I chuckled, the sound hollow in the small room. Her lips trembled and I couldn't bare to watch another tear fall.
I rose from my seat.
If I decided to break up, what then? As Wave Rider, she would inevitably ask to meet the real me, and then what? The truth would spill out.
I squeezed onto my two seater next to her.
If I ended things as Wave Rider, she would feel used and abandoned.
I wrapped my arms around her and she buried her face in my chest. My mind swirled with emotions and possibilities, none of which seemed to lead to a happy ending.
But the way she had said, "I love you," held me in place.
Love - a word that carried the weight of all our shared memories, and the promise of a better future. Something for which I risked my life every night. It was a predicament I'd never expected to find myself in, but as always, it was my job to find a solution.
After all, I was the superhero, wasn't I?
*Edited for flow, clarity, grammar and syntax.*
|
WilliamSyler
|
Sk3tchi
|
2023-08-04 07:29:46
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2023-08-04 04:19:44
| 50 | 30 |
juqdeau
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jupwq29
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15h81r9
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15h81r9
|
[WP] You are a worker at a fast food restaurant where your boss is a ass, enough of an ass that someone summoned a demon to kill him and anyone else in the restaurant. They didn't account for you being something far older and more dangerous who just wants to make money in peace.
|
"And another thing," my boss, Trent, yelled. "If you're late for work one more goddamn time, you're fucking fired! You hear that? Fucking fired!"
"Yes, sir," Trina said as she fought back tears. I just let out a sigh. Fucking asshole. Always flexing on the others that worked here. He learned a long time to leave me the fuck alone, but that didn't stop him from preying on everyone else.
"And another thing, you -" He was interrupted by a loud crash in the storefront. A tremendous roar came from the front, and Trent stiffened.
"Trina, go check that out."
"What, sir? No. I'm only sixteen."
"I didn't ask for your goddamn life story. I said go check that out!"
"Trenton Woods," a deep voice from the front rumbled. "I have come for you. Come out and face me, mortal. I am here to consume every soul in this restaurant, starting with yours."
"I'll fucking take care of it," I say as I roll my sleeves up and walk past Trent.
"Atta boy, Skip. Give 'em hell." I rolled my eyes but continued through the kitchen to the front. As I emerged from the doors, I saw a large red beast with ten horns on his head. He had a long neck, like a dragon, but the body of a bull. His head was that of a human, aside from the horns, and his face was betraying the obvious emotion of pissed off.
"Lloyd," I said. "What are you doing here?"
"Y-your majesty," the creature said before he bowed low. "What are you doing here, sir?"
"I work here; what are you doing here?" I asked again.
"My lord, I was summoned by a girl named Trina Sparks. She made a deal with me to take out Trenton Woods. She gave me ten vials of her blood. *Virgin blood*, sir. I couldn't say no to such a deal. You know how much I love a good drink." Fucking Trina.
"Trina! Get out here," I bellowed. The girl slowly pushed her head through the door. She was shaking in fear, though I had no clue what she was scared of. She summoned the damn thing.
"Did you summon this?" I asked, pointing at Lloyd.
"Uh. I mean. Yes? Maybe. Am I in trouble?" she squeaked.
"You should be. What would your parents say!? You summoned a being of the underworld to kill your boss. And everyone else in here, might I add. Me included. How would you have felt if Lloyd had killed me? Would you have been fine with that?"
"No. I mean. I didn't tell him to kill everyone. I just wanted Trent gone."
"Lloyd! Are you adding souls to your deals again?"
"My lord." The demon bowed even lower if that were possible. "I'm sorry. I take liberties when the deals are not worded specifically." I walked over and thunked him on the back of the head.
"We don't take extra human souls. They will come to us when it is their time." I walked back to Trina. "And as for you. Don't make deals with demons. You never know what could happen. Take this for instance. He was probably going to kill you, too. Did you have a specific clause about not killing you in the contract?"
"What contract?" she asked meekly.
"What contract!? Lloyd, what the fuck, man? You didn't even have the poor girl sign a contract!?"
"Uh. It was a handshake agreement?"
"You don't have hands! I'm surrounded by idiots." I buried my face in my hands. "Absolute. Fucking. Idiots."
"I'm sorry, my lord. I will take Trenton Woods' soul and be gone."
"Eh, what the hell? I could use the promotion anyways. Trent, get out here!"
|
“They couldn’t have picked another day…” The soft spoken dishwasher spoke to herself as if it was just another unruly customer, yet it was much more than that.
The scene unfolded before the dishwasher, as she peered over the counter after she heard the chanting. She saw a large demon come out of the portal one of her coworkers had made on a table. It, the demon, had large fangs dripping with what could only be described as lava. The lava spit was catching things on fire, and that had made the sprinklers go off.
Once the sprinklers were set off the boss came out of his office in the back.
“Who the fuck is burning shit now? Lulu did you leave one of the dish rags near the fire again?” He screamed as he walked out into the kitchen. When he saw LuLu watching the front of the store with her other coworkers it looked like smoke would come out of him. “WHAT ARE YOU LOLLYGAGGERS DOING? GET BACK TO WORK.”
“But… Sir there’s… a demon…” One of LuLu’s coworkers, Timmy, pointed out.
LuLu just shook her head at Timmy to shut up.
“What kind of idiot do you think I am?” He growled before looking towards what Timmy was pointing to. When he saw the demon. He laughed. “Is this some sort of Halloween prank? Nice special effects makeup.”
“Sir, it’s February…” Timmy muttered.
“Fine, I’ll go deal with this. JUST GET BACK TO WORK.” The boss rolled his eyes. As he walked out of the kitchen area to the dining area. He stood in front of the demon. His arms crossed.
The demon roared loudly at him. The sprinklers seemed to have snuffed most of the hell fire out.
“Look, I don’t know who sent you, but you’re going have to pay for this. The fire, everything. So cough it up!”
The demon did in fact cough something up. A human skull. After it flew out of his mouth it bounced on the floor due to the lavay slime spit it was covered in.
The boss didn’t even flinch. “You know that is not what I meant. Nice magic trick though. Where did you get a fake skull?” The boss stepped on the skull, expecting to crush it with his foot, when he didn’t he froze for a moment, before screaming and trying to run.
It was too late the demon had grabbed him. Holding him up by the back of his shirt. The demon’s long tongue licked his face, cause the boss to scream even more before the demon started to lower him into his mouth.
“Should we do anything?” Timmy whispered to Tripp another coworker.
“What do you want us to do against a demon?” They practically yelled back, smacking Timmy with a cleaning rag.
“What do you think LuLu?” Timmy hesitantly asked.
“It is our boss… but maybe we should see how it plays out..?”
“Oh that’s crazy. We need to get out of here.” Tripp stood up, deciding to make a run for it.
LuLu stood up as well. Deciding to walk back to her locker. She unlocked her locker, rather quickly. Once it was opened she pulled out her backpack, throwing it on. As she did she heard another scream from her boss. This time she couldn’t just ignore it. She had to do something. So she ran into the dining room standing in front of the demon.
The demon was now holding Tripp up in the air, while it munched on what LuLu could only assume was her old boss.
“Unhand them!” LuLu yelled. “And let everyone in this establishment go. NOW”
The demon simply tilted it’s head at LuLu.
“You’re really going to make me do this…” LuLu took a deep breath. “Okay, fine.”
LuLu threw her backpack off, and quickly pulled out what a normal person would assume was a folding cane. With the flick of her wrist the cane became a staff. Raising the staff above her head she began to chant.
Once the demon heard the language she was chanting in, it let go of Tripp. It’s attention was focused on her. Moving towards her with caution.
Unsurprisingly as LuLu was chanting, everyone in the building evacuated, well almost everyone. LuLu opened one eye, noticing Timmy had grabbed a bag of salt, making a circle around both LuLu and the demon. She continued chanting, not wanting to lose the demon's attention. Once her chant was completed, she had 5 seconds to yell.
“TIMMY LEAVE.” LuLu spat out.
Once the 5 seconds were up, there was a large puff of smoke. Where LuLu was once standing there was an Eldritch adjacent monster girl that was growing in size. She looked vaguely human but with two red devilish eyes and six tentacles attached to the sides of her head, with two more sprouting from her forehead almost like horns. The rest of her body from the neck down was covered by a magical girl outfit, even as she grew the outfit grew with her.
When she had stopped growing she had to crouch to be inside of the building. The two tentacles from her forehead wrapped around the demon's throat, as tight as they could. The rest of her tentacles began to try to shove the demon back into the portal from where it came. The demon was scratching and clawing at the tentacles that were holding onto it. This caused LuLu to scream and hiss in pain, before yelling at the demon in its native tongue. Eventually the demon was shoved back into the portal.
Causing LuLu to sigh in relief. She wiped her brow with one of the tentacles from her forehead. It took a moment before the monster began to shrink back down to human size. The monster began to mumble once it got its tentacles on the staff. Once the chanting was done, another puff of smoke happened. LuLu stood there, bruised and bloody. She looked around as she leaned on one of the tables, to see Timmy staring at her with wide eyes.
“What Kid, you haven’t seen a magical girl before?” LuLu laughed, trying to find the humor in it all.
“Not… one like… you looked like you could be related to a squid…” Timmy stammered.
“Well you’re close. Cthulhu is my father.. Well, by human standards.”
(Never in my life did I think I would be writing a cthulhu adjacent magical girl story but here I am...)
|
Murlock_Holmes
|
TheJ-WFinch
|
2023-01-19 02:16:20
|
2023-01-19 01:50:54
| 123 | 61 |
j4y81tx
|
j4y4jz8
|
10fj6k6
|
10fj6k6
|
[WP] While checking out an abandoned island with your new friends, you decide to look at the local pictures online. The only one nearby is a photo of you and your friends posted a month ago, before any of you even met.
|
“Guys….” James gestures frantically towards his friends. “…come look at this.”
Phoebe and Michael run over, but to your surprise they do not act shocked, but instead are overtaken by a solemn look.
“James, you weren’t supposed to find out like this. We wanted to ease you into it, but it’s time you knew the truth.” Phoebe continues on “This island shows us what we truly want in life. And what you want, James, is your friends back.”
James is quiet. “Friends.. back?” He thinks to himself.
Michael chimes in “Yes. That photo you saw a online was the last one of us all together. We stopped to take a group picture and were caught in a drive-by.”
“No that can’t be.” James’ breathing is getting heavier and he starts backing up, trying to find something to ground himself with.
Michael reaches out appearing to want to touch James. “It’s time” he says.
As he touches James, all the memories come flooding in. The sun. The heat. The laughter.
The gun fire.
The tears.
The pain.
James remembered everything. He even remembered why he came to this island in the first place. Closure. He’d heard the rumors of the islands magical powers and he thought it was worth a shot. Little did he know, the island works in mysterious ways. In James’ case, it was his memory loss.
“Phoebe…Michael… I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.”
“You need to forgive yourself. There’s nothing you could have done.” Phoebe says.
As the three friends lean in to hug, Michael and Phoebe vanish.
“Goodbye friends..” James says softly, choking back tears.
|
"So...what's the name of that island again?" Sarah asked, swiping through on her phone.
"Hermit Island. Just off the Reef." I didn't look at her, instead kicking a glass bottle across the rocks. I winced when it shattered, then turned to my friends.
"Whoa," Sarah said, and turned her phone around. "Hey Mickey, come and look at this."
The waver in her voice caught my attention, and I jogged over the gravelly sand to see what had upset her.
She, Jason and Beth were gathered around near the front door of the hut, looking into Sarah's phone and muttering "no way!" and "that's gotta be fake, stop messing with us!"
"What's up?" I asked, jumping in behind Beth.
"I was scrolling through the pictures, wanted to add a few I took, and I found this." Sarah turned her phone to face me. "It's a picture of us, but look at the upload date."
My eyes crept down to the right-hand corner. January 17 - almost two weeks before.
"So it's set to the wrong time zone or something," I shrugged.
"Okay, even if that were the case," Sarah turned her phone back around and made a few taps, "you're the one that posted it."
Beth pulled the same photo up on her phone. "And look, all four of us are in the photo."
"So?" Jason asked, looking between the girls.
"So? So, do you see anyone around here who would take a photo of us looking at our phones, looking at this photo?" Sarah asked.
Beth suddenly sat down on a nearby rock, breathing a nit harder. "Guys, I don't feel so good. Can we go?"
Jason grabbed Beth's phone, leaving me to try to calm the girl. He turned a little, looking at the view, then suddenly spun 180 degrees and pointed to the hut's mouldering, rotted door. "Whoever took this is inside the hut!" he called, and raced off.
"Wait -- Jason!" Sarah called, chasing after him.
He ran into the hut yelling "gotcha" and vanished from our sight. Sarah, not far behind her brother, ran inside, calling out, "Wait, you idiot!"
Beth and I looked at each other, then waited for the pair to reemerge.
We waited for ten minutes, but there was no sign of them.
"Guys?" Beth called, standing up.
There was no noise from the hut. Beth slipped her hand in mine, looking up at me.
"Not funny, guys," I sighed pulling Beth along with me to the hut. She stayed behind me, holding my hand. "You can come out now, we're super scared."
"*Good*," hissed a voice, it's words rattling through my head and making my teeth hurt. "*We don't like...fear*."
I looked at Beth, who shook her head. I let her hand go, stepping closer to the hut. "Alright, Jason, you're being a bit of a dick."
The voice laughed, as cold as a graveyard. "*Come inside and stop me*," the voice called, its tone taunting. "*Show me what you've got*."
Beth held onto me. "Something's not right," she said quietly, looking at the wide maw of the house. "Don't go in there."
"Look, it's probably just Jason in there," I said, shrugging. "I'll go in, kick his ass, and drag them back out. You wait here. I'll be back on a minute."
Beth tried to cling to my hand, but I slipped away. "Mickey!" she hissed, throwing terrified glances at the house. "There's something bad there. Mickey!"
I ignored her, striding into the house. The interior was so black, I had trouble seeing the floor. Three paces in, I missed my footling and fell through the floor, into a deep hole. When I scrambled to my feet, I realised there was light here, somehow.
"*That's it*," the voice called from a small crack in the earth. "*Come a little closer, Michael*."
I took a few steps into the crack in the earth, and realised why I coild see light. There was fire up ahead.
"It's okay, Beth!" I called up to her. "I just have to check out this...fire..."
The crack opened up on a cavern, full of creatures unimaginable to the eye. I tried to step backwards, but found only dirt behind me. I was trapped, and I suddenly knew this is not where I wanted to be. This was bad, and there was no way out.
"*Hello, Michael*," the voice said, coming from my left. "*Welcome to Hell. Time to get to work. Those photograph lures won't take themselves*!"
|
rogueShadow13
|
Mythic_Writing
|
2023-01-29 16:31:02
|
2023-01-29 15:53:59
| 51 | 24 |
j6dlncw
|
j6dg4ca
|
10o836s
|
10o836s
|
[WP] you wake up suddenly to find an androgynous being by your bed, congratulating you on your ascension to godhood and vanishing without explaining your domain or power set. Now you have to figure out what kind of god you are, and why you're a god to begin with
|
"My Lord-" the mysterious being proffered to me- to which I rolled over and pulled the blankets over my head.
"You really must start b-" the being chided at me, words bouncing harmlessly off of my new furred shield.
The being clicked its tongue and stood silently.
It stood and waited, anxiously staring and questioning whether it would be blasphemy to swat at me with a broom (as I had not technically announced my rule yet.
The uneasy tension weighed heavily upon my protective mantle and my shoulders.
"What day is it?" I mumbled groggily from under my blanket, hoping it would draw attention away from me.
"It is.. 'Monday,' m'lord." it chirped at me. It pulled a clipboard and writing utensil from somewhere and jotted down "God of Grumpiness? Bedtime?"
I slowly came to terms with whatever this thing was and whatever it wanted, until a thought wormed its way into my head. "Could you get me some coffee, please?" I tried.
"Yes! M'lord!" it squeaked at me (through happiness or, through bureaucratic satisfaction- unknown) and left, hopefully.
I sighed.
The creature walked out of sight and gave instructions to the new league of waitstaff eager to begin their work, and jotted down "God of Non-confrontation?" As the waitstaff began fervently preparing the holy drink for their new master, the creature tilted its head in thought and jotted down "God of Mondays??" Placing the clipboard and writing utensil back in their unknown pocket space, grabbed the coffee proffered, and turned on its heels in one swift motion to return to my room- eager to discuss its creation to their disgruntled God.
|
Allow me to tell you a story. Perhaps it may help you in your own journey, rebuild your faith and your resolve.
The time of day was sunrise. It was far earlier than they would normally awake. It took them a short time to process what had just happened. Or at least, the very surface of what just happened.
The basic question of what did they just witness is a very easy one to answer. It appeared as if they were awoken very suddenly by a.. Perhaps, existentially horrifying creature standing at the end of their bed. However, it quickly changed its form, instead borrowing the body of the very one it stood before.
It told them three things. First, a simple statement. "You are a God now." Second, a congratulations on the ascension. Third? "Good luck!" After which it promptly vanished. Even as absurd as it should have been, they knew it to be true; they could feel the difference in... Something. Couldn't put a finger on it.
Despite this, they planned to continue about their life, which seemed largely unchanged. After all, what does it matter that they're a god if they not only can't use their divine powers but don't know what they're supposed to be? But it wasn't unchanged. Their powers weren't going unused.
It was a subtle change, one that can't truly be explained, put to words. But I would not be doing them justice were I not to try. It was a power of understanding. Not of sciences, or the answers to their test next week, or the nature of the universe, but of people, of identities. Of the mind and soul.
When you look at a person, and I ask you to imagine yourselves in their shoes, to use a common human phrase, what do you do? There's no one true answer, of course, but it's common for some to imagine how they might think or act, were the things that happened to the subject to happen to themselves. But this process is inherently flawed. You cannot truly know someone. You cannot truly intuit their experiences, and how they're affected by anything.
We shall come back to our newfound god. They find themselves at a public event, one which celebrates individuality, diversity, curious identities, and more. Here, as they wandered between the crowds, did they understand their power, seeing so many bright minds and souls happy together. Here, they finally understood themselves. The What of their godhood, but also the Why.
You know now what it means to imagine yourself in someone else's shoes? As the newfound god of identity, mind and soul, they intrinsically knew and understood the people around them. Not in the same way I speak to you and understand the words you speak to me, but rather they would look at you, and understand what makes you tick. Why you do what you do, how your life experiences affect you. The soul is an abstraction of this. A happy person has a healthy soul, and a person whose will is shattered may have a grave wound in their soul.
Why, though? If only it were as simple as the one word question asked. For you see, our newfound god was once much like either of us, but even still they were never truly the same. The way they interacted with the world was always slightly different. So many ways in which they had to explore themselves, as they were always shown the standard. They spent so much of their life exploring themselves, who they are. There are many small communities of shared identities in this world we live in, each of which our newfound god took a part in.
The more public ones, such as that of the public event which brought them to where they stand today. I believe Pride is a common term. The ways in which they fundamentally processed the world differently, neurodivergence. The things that brought them to no longer truly feel like themselves, to feel disconnected. To feel like two or more, to feel literally inhuman. Perhaps more.
It's not so relevant now, is it? To them, it was their world. Their entire life. And their time exploring themselves is what earned them their ascension to godhood. Now, in this day and age, we pray that they guide us to learn about ourselves, to give us the will to continue and make the best of what we have.
|
PPPRCHN
|
loooji
|
2024-09-26 23:27:33
|
2024-09-26 20:43:53
| 67 | 28 |
lp3p3n9
|
lp2wmv1
|
1fpzgee
|
1fpzgee
|
[WP] Your family member has been abducted and replaced by an alien who is really bad at their job of pretending to be them. However, you don't complain because the alien is still a vast improvement over the original
|
I don't flinch anymore when I hear you come home from work. I don't have to worry about our money anymore because, instead of turning on the latest game and swearing at how you heard this team or that team was a sure bet, you just switch on the news and watch it quietly, intently. You don't drink anymore. Maybe your species can't metabolize alcohol? You compliment my cooking, which I know is a lie, but it's better than screaming and broken plates. (More than once I've seen you eat spoonfuls of salt after a meal -- I just started adding it directly to your dish, and you didn't seem to notice or realize why, but your compliments sound a little more sincere). You'll actually go on walks with me, and hold my hand. We can actually invite friends over to visit again, and they've stopped surreptitiously looking for bruises when I wear short sleeves. When we go to bed, you'll...you'll actually listen to me if I tell you I'm not in the mood. And, more and more often, I find I don't even have to tell you that. And afterwards, when you think I'm asleep, I'll listen to you report to your superiors, recommending an expansion on the infiltration based on how successful this one has gone. And I close my eyes in quiet agreement, without having to worry about being jarred awake or trapped in a hellish nightmare. If you have sinister plans for the human race, I don't care. This is the happiest I've been in a long, long time.
I feel a kick, and I reach down and caress my stomach, and the life growing within me. I wonder what our child will be like.
|
It had been a year since I last met Drek. I saw him in a restaurant sitting all alone. We started talking. He had suddenly become a great listener and a much more pleasant person.
“She used to say I looked like her uncle, fat and old. Maybe she lost her attraction.”
“Do you think she lost her attraction?” He was listening as if each word I spoke came from Jesus himself. A year back he’d instead just call her a bitch or something.
“I love her so much Drek.” I started sobbing. He touched my shoulders to calm me down.
“She’ll be back.”
“You said you don’t have a house anymore. Why don’t you stay with me?”
“Yes, Matt. I’ll be thrilled. We come in peace.”
“We? Are there others with you?”
“You are with me.”
I started sobbing again, “No one has been so good to me before.”
Over the coming days, we talked a lot. I wasn’t suspicious. I thought maybe he had just changed.
“I dreamt of Sarah again Drek. She had become the president. She invited me to the white house where she started making fun of me and kissed the bodyguard instead.” I started crying on his shoulders.
“Bodyguard? There there. So the president is the one that leads the Earth?”
“Yeah yeah USA president. She then sent me to a dark prison with horrible creatures. They ate my face.”
“Your face? There there. So the president, can she do anything?”
“I don’t think the president would kiss the bodyguard in front of me, but it’s a very powerful position… Anyway, I still love her a lot and [...]” on and on I went about my breakup.
---
It was one morning when to my horror I realised that I had locked the bathroom of the room where Drek was staying, long before he came. I hadn't unlocked it.
“You haven’t pooped in 2 weeks?” I confronted him.
“Do you think I haven’t pooped in 2 weeks?”
“No! I haven’t seen you in my bathroom and your bathroom has been locked all this time. You haven’t been out of the house either.”
“I pooped.”
“Where?”
He pointed towards the kitchen sink.
I had a glass of water in my hands which I had just filled from the tap. I threw it in horror. The water splashed on his face.
“I’m so sorry. Let me clean your glasses.”
I tried to help his glasses out, but it pulled his skin instead. I saw that the frame seamlessly blended with his skin at the sides. I backed away from him in a scary realisation.
“You aren’t human. Who are you?”
There was a knock on the door.
“Matt? It’s me. Sarah.”
I rushed to the door. She hugged me as soon as I opened it.
“I’m so sorry Matt. I was very rude to you.”
Looking at my confused face she explained.
“Drek called me yesterday. We talked.”
I was ecstatic to have Sarah back in my life. I apologised to her and promised to work on my appearance. I asked her out for dinner. We went to a nice restaurant nearby.
We were having a good time in the restaurant when I saw the TV behind her. An alien ship had landed on the roof of the white house.
My brain finally went into action and a horrible feeling engulfed me. Was it an alien pretending to be Drek? I wondered to myself. If so, what happened to the real Drek? Was he being tortured?
I rushed back to the house. Sarah was behind me confused. I opened the door and saw two men on the floor struggling to overpower each other. They looked exactly the same.
“Stop it!” I screamed.
They both stood up.
Sarah caught up with me and screamed at the sight of two duplicate Dreks. Her loud shriek made us throw our hands over our ears.
“Shut up you whore!” one of the Dreks screamed.
At that moment blood rushed out of my head, anger took over me, and I punched him really hard. I heard a distinct crack as his neck bent and he fell down limp.
The other two looked at me horror-stuck. I collapsed panting, not ready to believe what I had done.
Months later Drek was the best man at my wedding. As Sarah walked down the aisle, I took a quick look at him. He was the man who had made my impossible wedding come true. I kept telling my heart that he was the real Drek. I had killed the alien that night.
Yes, I had, hadn’t I?
|
Smileyfax
|
Professor_Entropy
|
2023-03-04 18:07:35
|
2023-03-04 17:55:00
| 186 | 29 |
jawtzse
|
jaws6hx
|
11hxyqk
|
11hxyqk
|
[WP] A devil has been making a deal with people: $1 million dollars for 1 year off of your life. They become worried when the same person makes the deal over 100 times.
|
Immortality.
I remember the electric-hot shock that ran down my spine the moment I realized what I held in my hands, a tiny test tube containing a drop of pink liquid the size of a grain of rice. And in it hid the secrets of immortality.
RVh23b doesn't exactly roll off the tongue, and in hindsight I wish I had spent the time coming up with a better name. But what matters a name? In the end, nobody is going to care.
In mice, the virus begins with a minor cold as it spreads through the body, infecting cells as it goes. Each time, it splices it's genome into the victims, giving every cell they infect a very special trick.
Our chromosomes have these neat things called telomeres, they protect our DNA from damage, but as we grow older they grow shorter. RVh23b contains the code for a protein I've named RV-Telomerase, which regrows the telomeres with 20 times more efficiency than the cells own telomerases.
I put the eppendorf tube in dry ice, fingers trembling.
Too bad it doesn't spread from human to human. It has to be grown in rats and injected directly in order to infect a human being.
Symptoms only lasted 24 hours, I was already feeling better than I'd felt in years.
Now I would need to be careful. Very careful. I would need funding, a lot of funding, but if I wasn't careful…
I shuddered to imagine what a pharmaceutical company would do with this. Selling life only to those who can afford it, while everybody else ages and dies. No, I will not have it. RVh23b belongs to us all.
(I'm going to need to do something about the name. But not today.)
I looked at myself in the mirror. Already I could see the beginnings of peach fuzz growing over my receding hairline. The roots of my almost-snow-white hair were a deep walnut brown.
I needed to move fast. I would need funding, a lot of it. But if I wasn't careful someone else would patent it out from under me.
But where could I get that kind of money without signing away my soul to Pfizer or some–
Wait,
was it really that simple?
Yes. That would do it.
Twenty minutes later the deal was made. The particular demon was young and inexperienced. A bit of luck there. The summoning spell was something I remembered from my college days. Got into witchcraft for a while back then, all black nail polish and cringe. Never thought it would come in handy.
The demon was nervous in making the deal, but it was a standing offer that has been proposed many years ago (again, in my days of fishnets and eyeliner) and was apparently still on the books.
Five hours later I had hired a good corporate attorney on retainer and was knee deep in paperwork founding my own medical nonprofit. Three days later we were officially a legal entity. Thucela, I named it, short for Methuselah. A little joke there, I couldn't help it. I'll sell it to everyone at cost, maybe even below cost if I can get some philanthropic donors. I can't imagine anything that would give good press like granting immortality. Rich folks will be lining up to give.
A hundred million is a little low to get a drug approved, but the FDA has a fast track for drugs that treat terminal and untreatable conditions. And nobody can argue that doesn't apply here.
There is no condition quite as terminal as time.
But I guess it's time we changed that.
It's been a week now. My skin was soft and taught, my eyesight 20/20 again, and my back doesn't creak when I stand.
I stared out my window at the stars. I wondered which ones I would visit, in millennia to come. The future folded out in front of me, a glittering eternity.
Well, eternity minus a hundred years.
I think I can live with that.
|
“You can’t keep using these contracts as an excuse to see him Anethra.” A dark haired woman with striking green eyes huffed, crossing her arms as she watched her sister get ready. “I appreciate the sentiment Ariel, I do, but I’m not going to stop just because you’re getting pissy with me.” The other woman fluffed her cinnamon colored waves and let them fall elegantly over her shoulders, framing her tan and freckled face. Her steel blue eyes clashed with her sister’s green ones in the mirror as she screwed back on the lid to her mascara tube and put it away in a drawer, standing up and smoothing out her outfit before facing her sister. “How do I look?”
“Like an idiot.”
“I’m being serious.”
“So am I. He’s going to find out sooner or later Anethra! And when He does-“
“He won’t.” Anethra cut off her sister with a flat tone, making her sister scowl. “He doesn’t care enough to pay attention to us at all, so I highly doubt He’ll find out about my little deal with the Devil.” The woman snatched her coat from by the door and swung it on, ignoring the soft look her sister was giving her.
“Anethra, He didn’t abandon us, and going to see L-“
“Yes, He did Ariel. We’ve already agreed to disagree on this topic, so please stop bringing it up. I’ll see you later when we meet everyone for dinner. And don’t expect me to sit next to Michael either.” Shutting the door roughly behind her, Anethra half stomped down the stairs of her apartment complex and out the doors, ignoring the wind that was breezing through the city. She glanced both ways before striding across the street and beginning her walk to their normal meeting place. She didn’t expect Ariel to understand, Ariel had been brainwashed by Michael since day 1, along with a good chunk of the rest of her family. She knew what they thought of her, the pitying look they threw her way when they thought she wasn’t paying attention.
‘Let them judge,’ She thought, hanging right into the alley and towards the discreet entrance of an underground club. ‘They will never understand, not until everything is finished.’ She knocked on the door in a specific manner, raising an eyebrow when the eyeslit slid open.
“It’s a bit chilly for this time of year,” A gruff voice said, waiting for Anethra’s reply with hard grey eyes. “Hell must be freezing over for LA to be this chilly,” she replied with a shrug, unfazed as the eyeslit slammed shut. A few moments later, she was stepping inside and past the guard, striding down the dimly lit hallway. She let her mind wander to the prospect of how their weekly family dinner would go (which would probably end in disaster, per usual), letting her feet guide her. She finally stopped at a set of large mahogany doors, taking a deep breath before pushing the doors open and stepping into the lavish office.
“I feel like we should really start setting appointments for you at this rate.” A handsome dirty blonde glanced up from his papers with candy apple green eyes, flashing Anethra with an award winning smile before returning to his paperwork. “Family dinner tonight?”
“Ah, but where’s the fun in scheduling times for me to stop by? I like the suspense,” She replied, dropping into a plush leather chair that was placed across from the man’s desk. “I’d rather not go, but you know how family is. I believe you have something for me to sign?”
The man chuckled, setting his pen down and rummaging through a stack of papers before nodding to himself. “The usual business then, you know the drill.” Sliding the paper over with a silver dagger, he folded his hands together and watched Anethra prick her finger before signing her name in blood. “Your family must just be jealous that you’re incredibly wealthy Analiese.”
“Something like that,” Anethra said with a shrug, watching the man take the paper and the dagger and look over the contract before tucking them away into a drawer. “Got anything to help prepare me for dinner?”
“Accepting a drink from the Devil himself is a dangerous ask,” The man said, still opening another drawer and pulling out two crystal glasses and a crystal bottle holding brown liquor. “But I’ll be happy to indulge a customer if it keeps them coming back.”
“Oh please, if you wanted to hurt me you would’ve done so already Lucifer,” Anethra said, rolling her eyes and accepting the now full glass from the blonde and taking a long swig.
“True, though you are pretty bold to continue to challenge me human.” Lucifer locked his eyes onto the woman, watching her as he took a careful sip of his drink. “You know you’re the only one of my clients that calls me Lucifer?”
Anethra shrugged, downing the rest of her drink. “You can put on this charade all you want, but I’m not so naïve as to think that this is real. Psychology works on fallen angels too you know.” Standing, Anethra ran her fingers through her hair before shoving her hands into her pockets, fixing Lucifer with a warm stare. “I should get going before my family throws an even bigger fit than they normally do. See you soon… Lucifer.”
Lucifer simply kept sipping his drink as he watched the woman sweep out of his office, the door shutting with a soft click behind her. Once she was gone, he opened one of his drawers and pulled out the contract she had just signed, studying it as he finished his drink. If this were any normal woman, he’d be incredibly concerned about the amount of contracts that had been signed thus far, but that woman wasn’t normal. It was always refreshing to see her though, normal or not.
“Oh Anethra… I don’t envy you for having to deal with our family dinners at all.” Shaking his head, he put the contract away and shut the drawer as he waited for his next client to come in.
‘Surely she didn’t think she could fool me, did she? I’d know my little sister and her handwriting anywhere… curse Father for all of this. This is His fault, and I wish more of our family would see that. Stupid Michael has them all brainwashed… no matter, it’s only a matter of time now. And when the time comes, I’ll be taking on Michael with Anethra right by my side. She’s always been my favorite sister anyways.’
|
ImmortalJadeEye
|
bootsandsunflowers
|
2023-05-21 02:23:27
|
2023-05-21 01:04:05
| 174 | 81 |
jkzb7zs
|
jkz1o0h
|
13n9qbp
|
13n9qbp
|
[WP] You used to be a powerful and feared supervillain, now retired and set for life. Now, there's a 20-something at your door begging you to teach them to control their rare power since it's the same as yours. They even know your villain name.
|
Thick blackened blood spilled through his fingers, each breath coming out hot and heavy. Hus eyes were wide with fear and desperation, the whites tinged a dangerous red. He leaned against the doorframe lips parted and bloodstained.
"Reverb please...help me I can't-" His wheezing breath stifled his next words.
He slowly sank to the ground, groaning softly in pain.
Reverb. Reverb.
The name he used to strangle the hope from heroes and villains alike, the name that he had branded on the chest of every politician, every judge and every officer who he thought unnecessary. But that was years ago. Ages, it seemed, a different time entirely.
So how did this door-step invading ruffian know it was him?
Reverb squatted in front of the bleeding young man, fingers tilting his chin upward. He stared into his bloodshot eyes, head tilted and eyes probing.
"Inkit. Right? Melokinesis."
The young man nodded weakly, breath leaving in wheezing, rattling gasps.
"That explains the blood. Speaking of which, you're bleeding all over my damn porch." Reverb mumbled, standing.
He glanced down at the weeping wound.
"Can't you heal?" He asked, earning only a weak head shake in return.
Reverb sighed roughly, "Of course not. God damn new age villains."
He squatted again, gently moving Inkits' fingers from his wound. He pressed his own fingers against it, wincing slightly as a swathe of painful memories flooded his mind. Some explaining the recent bout, the clash with Hargreave the local strongman, but others were more sinister.
Long stretches of abuse filled nights, screaming matches between parents, cigarette burns on young arms and legs.
Reverb shook his head, shoving the memories to the back of his mind and focused on stitching together the wound.
Those will be discussed later. If he cared enough to remember.
Slowly and surely the wound closed and healed, and he stood once it finished.
"Clean up your blood. And before you ask...yes. I'll help you."
|
Workflow, quite possibly the worlds most successful villain, was enjoying his early retirement when a someone knocked on his door. A quick check with the cameras showed it was a young man, impeccably dressed in the latest fashion but twitching like a junkie in need of a fix. It was odd enough that he decided to answer the door himself.
“Hello, can I help you young man?”
It was a bit odd to call the 20 year old a young man when Workflow himself was barely past 30, but a few million dollars got some very nice holographic disguise kits and he currently looked like a 50 year old man.
The young man looked up, and his dilated eyes finally focused.
“My name is Leonardo Garcia Cydson. I need your help, Workflow. I’ve lost control of my life like you once did, and you are the only one that can help me now.”
Workflow stiffened as his name was mentioned, but then he really looked at the young man. Impeccably dressed, as if he wanted to look his best. Dilated pupils, bags under his eyes, his hands constantly gripping each other… all the signs of ecstasy use. A young man who dressed so nicely, got high, and came here to get his life under control? There was only one explanation.
“You’ve got it too don’t you, the the instinct that you can make whatever you want happen if you just relax and go with the flow? The feeling of your body being hijacked by every stray thought in your head? The inexplicable words that come out of your mouth, saying things you didn’t know you knew?”
With every word Leonardo’s body seemed to relax, as if he had been clenching every muscle to hold himself still but now he was free. And he was, now that he was focused on just listening to Workflow.
Workflow invited him in and sat down on a sofa across from Leo.
“Alright kid, I’ll make this quick since I don’t want you getting distracted halfway through. You and me, we’ve got a concept power. It’s not physical like the Titanium Terror or mental like Professor Graviton, instead we have the power of Objective. Whatever objective we set for ourselves, our bodies instinctively know how to accomplish it as easy as breathing. Whether that’s looking great” he gestured at Leo’s clothes. “Feeling happy, learning a skill, or anything in between. As long as it’s physically possible and the knowledge is somewhere in your head you can do whatever you wet out to do.”
It was an incredible power, one that made Workflow the undisputed king of the villainous underbelly in under a year. Gaining the skills needed took up half that, and the rest was letting his body operate on autopilot.
But it came at a cost.
“All that power, all that possibility, but you feel like a prisoner in your own head most of the time. Like none of your accomplishments matter because it’s not really YOU doing them.”
Leo looked up and nodded fervently.
“I haven’t felt like myself in weeks. It was fine when I was at home, but a few days away and suddenly I’m chatting up some random dude like I’ve known him for years and buying ecstasy and fancy clothes with money I won in an underground poker tourney. I tried to think of who to ask for help…”
Workflow finished his sentence “And your power led you here. Did it take a while to find me?”
“Two weeks once I realized Workflow probably had the same power I did. Tracked down the distributor for Professor Light’s holographic devices and found out where they went and then deduced your location from there. Had to pretend I was your bastard son to get them to spill.”
Workflow laughed. “Yeah, I never thought I’d have to hide from someone like me. But enough beating around the bush, you want to know how to control your power? How to get your life back?”
“Yes! Please, tell me how.”
“Simple kid, close your eyes, focus, and choose your objective to be a sense of Accomplishment, not of any specific deed, but the sensation itself.”
“That’s it? I don’t have to chant a secret mantra or meditate for a decade?”
“Say that after you try and avoid using your power to flirt with the next pretty girl you meet. You have to constantly remind yourself that letting your power do the work will lessen that feeling of accomplishment. Only then will it stop trying to hijack your body. Once you’ve gone and done that for a few years, maybe you can change your objective to living a quiet, peaceful life. Or whatever you decide. Control it, don’t let it control you.”
The young man thought for a few seconds and then seemed to take a deep breath and exhale all his worries.
He opened his eyes a new man. One who would go on to accomplish great things, but only what he chose to do.
|
LeastCandy9661
|
LCSpartan051
|
2023-02-01 14:09:16
|
2023-02-01 14:06:04
| 20 | 12 |
j6rzk2j
|
j6rz4ay
|
10qf3t6
|
10qf3t6
|
[WP] You died and were sent to hell, but instead of getting escorted down to a specific level of hell, you're escorted straight to the Devil himself who looks mildly horrified while holding the file of your life in his hands.
|
'I am about to meet Lucifer. Satan. The Devil.'
Those words resounded in my head as I was led down the hotel hallway dressed in my birthday - and deathday - suit. The only thing I had on me was the belt still hanging around my neck.
Two guards flanked me on either side, humanoid creatures dressed in suits and carrying diamond-studded whips. I'd stolen a glance at them earlier and was met with the sight of goat heads. They'd snorted smoke from their noses, an unspoken warning to keep my eyes to myself or risk losing them.
We arrived at a door marked '666'. One of the guards knocked. Despite the blistering hot air, chills ran over me. My heart pounded like it threatened to leap out of my chest.
'I am about to meet Lucifer. Satan. The Devil.'
"Come in," a gruff voice called from inside the room.
The door swung open. I closed my eyes, shaking feverishly. 'I am about to meet Lucifer. Satan. The-'
I fell onto the room's carpet, shoved by one of the guards. They roughly hoisted me up as my eyes opened and saw...
...the most ordinary-looking man I had ever seen, seated behind a desk.
It's hard to describe him. He just looked like... a person. Someone you would pay no notice to if you passed them on the street, or saw them working at an office.
He stared at me with wide eyes. I stared back.
A few seconds later, I blurted out, "That's it?"
"What-" He cleared his throat, dropping the file he'd been holding. "What do you mean by that?"
"I just thought you'll be more..." I glanced over him, grimacing, "...impressive."
"Impressive?" He slammed his hands on his desk, standing up. "Would you rather I looked like this?"
He transformed into the most terrifying beast... no, beasts can only wish to look that scary. Compared to him, the goat-headed guards look like cute puppies.
My heart began pounding again. Tingles ran across my body as it grew warmer. My vocal cords tied themselves. 'Yes, I am truly in the presence of Lucifer. Satan. The Devil!'
I couldn't contain my excitement any longer.
The beast glanced down between my legs. It disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a disgusted man. "Eww!"
I followed his train of sight, then grinned sheepishly. "Oh... I guess that still works."
With a snap of his fingers, the devil had me in a robe. Fitting attire for the bedroom we were in...
He picked up the file he'd dropped earlier, his expression still disgusted. "Your file doesn't do you justice; you are truly one of the most depraved individuals I've had come in here."
"Worse than Hitler?" I asked.
"I haven't decided on that."
"I didn't commit mass genocide during my lifetime. I never even got so much as a ticket."
"Let's see what you did then, shall we? Asides from your... sex life." Shuddering, the devil opened my file and cleared his throat. "It says here that you waited until you turned 66, then you went to church for 666 days wearing a cross upside down and praying that you end up down here."
"I would have waited till I turned 666, but that wasn't an option. And it wasn't exactly praying-"
"Oh, I know. You called the big guy a pussy and threatened to, and I quote, 'take the biggest dump on your throne if you ever let me see the pearly gates'".
I snickered.
The devil's eyes flashed to mine, darkening to black holes. 'You think this is funny? Do you have any idea where you are?"
I nodded.
"And you know what I am?"
I nodded.
"And you know what's going to happen to you?"
I looked at the bed, the guards' whips, then back at him. "I can hazard a guess." With shaky hands, I began taking off my robe.
"What - Jesus!" His eyes faded to boring normal as his look of disgust returned. "Guards, get them out of my sight!"
|
The moment Stephen had officially failed to meet or exceed the Citizen Engagement Quota for the second quarter of 2098, he died. Stephen himself did not immediately notice his demise, mainly because his heart kept beating, and his brain kept waving.
Hundreds of miles away, however, at a government data center in Brussels, an AI had taken less than a second to examine his social media activity, review all purchases he had made in the last three months, analyze his work performance for the same peroid, and review thousands of hours of CCTV footage starring one Stephen Pendleton. Based on this comprehensive study, the AI recalculated Stephen's social credit, and his all-important *Euroscore* dropped from 60 to 58, as a result.
Unfortunately for Stephen, the threshold of "psycho-social competence" within the complex Euroscore social credit system was 59 or higher. On dropping to *58,* Stephen's biometrics were immediately de-authorized from public transportation, financial transactions, and telecommunications systems. All social media activity he had made prior to this was censored, and all public records of his existence were restricted.
The first indication of Stephen's sociological demise was the sudden silence of the comforting media feeds that normally enabled him to ignore the increasingly distressing structure of his own daily life, and that of the society he lived in. At first he thought it might just be another round of power rationing, but the lights were still on, so that was ruled out.
The second indication was more direct, in the form of his apartment door automatically opening to admit a group of government-authorized Social Care Technicians. These dutiful public servants, dressed in body armor and carrying their customary less-than-lethal but more-than-a-little-painful weapons, proceeded to administer a round of preliminary re-educational therapy, which is how their particular governmental department refers to the act of beating someone unconscious and carrying them off with a black bag over their head.
Stephen next awoke seated in the back of an opened-topped truck, wearing a tan jumpsuit and matching slippers, and accompanied by a dozen similarly dressed people. The truck -- a self-driving model, judging by the flattened, windowless cab -- was driving its passengers down a tunnel lit by dim amber lights.
"Wh-where are we? What's going on?" he rasped, finding that his throat was terribly dry.
"We're in hell," another passenger answered, drily. He was a thin, gangly-looking man with sharp features and few days worth of dark stubble on his face. "And we're on our way to see which of the pits we've been assigned to."
"Don't listen to him," piped up another passenger, seated just across from him. This one was a bald, middle-aged man who seemed surprisingly chipper. "We're just in for a bit of re-education, that's all."
Stephen cringed. Re-education? Wasn't that only for violent criminals, psychopaths, and bigots? He was sure that was how it had been described, when he'd voted for it in the Continental Plebiscite, a few years back.
"T-that can't be right!" he stammered. "I...I didn't do anything?"
The bald man chuckled. "Must've done something, mate, or you wouldn't be here, now would you? Don't worry -- just do your bit, fix the action items in your social syllabus, and you'll be fine."
"Oh..." Stephen said, uncertainly.
The gangly man sighed. "They always have one plant in every new group. Usually they're a bit more subtle." He jerked a thumb at the bald man across from Stephen. "Reckon he must be *new."*
The bald man's smile became brittle. "Ha! Listen to him...with the...conspiracy theory, innit?"
Stephen looked uncertainly between the two men, but had little time to consider the veracity of either, as the truck suddenly came to a stop. He cringed as a Social Care Technician opened the back of the truck and climbed on, but fortunately the only instrument of torture the SCT produced was a bio-reader.
Each of the jumpsuited passengers was prompted to extend their arm so the SCT could press the reader against it. Some winced as the devices tiny needle took a minute blood and tissue sample, and displayed the results of its scan to the SCT on a small screen, but the pinprick of pain barely registered to Stephen amid his other aches and bruises.
As the SCT looked at the results of Stephen's scan, he froze. He looked from the screen to Stephen, and then back. Immediately, he stepped away, looking flustered. He hopped off the truck and strode a few paces away, his hand to his ear, apparently communicating with someone.
"What's going on?" Stephen asked, fearfully.
The bald man just stared at him, thoughtfully, but his gaunt, scruffy travelling companion shook his head.
"Dunno, mate -- usually they just run your DNA through the system, check you for disease, and offload you into a re-education collective. Never seen this happen before."
They waited in tense silence for a few minutes, before SCT climbed back onto the truck. He stood in the middle of the truck bed, and placed his hands on his hips."
"Alright, listen up: Comrade Director Miller always likes to greet a representative sample of each new group of enrollees in the re-education program. Let see here..."
"What?" the lanky man muttered quietly, his brow furrowing in confusion.
The SCT seemed to be making a show of looking over the various jump-suited inmates, Stephen thought, though why that would be he couldn't imagine. Finally the man turned to him.
"Let's see uh...you! You'll do." he announced, pointing at Stephen. Then he gestured to the lanky man and the bald man. "You two, as well."
The bald man's eyes widened. "Uh...but c-comrade officer, I'm--" he began, in a low voice, but a glare from the SCT made him fall silent.
The guard motioned for the three selected prisoners to follow him, and he helped each down from the truck with an extended arm and what looked like an extremely forced friendly smile. As the self-driving transport pulled away, he led them back to his own patrol vehicle, and they squeezed into the back together.
"What's going on?" Stephen whispered to the lanky man. "Who's this...Comrade Director?"
"If this is hell," the man whispered back, "Comrade Director Miller is *the devil."*
|
JohnStoneTypes
|
SilasCrane
|
2023-01-16 06:39:42
|
2023-01-16 06:30:27
| 82 | 41 |
j4k1gtb
|
j4k0mad
|
10d2vy0
|
10d2vy0
|
[WP] As a child, you dreamed of helping a wounded faerie. As an adult, they returned to repay the favour.
|
The man holds a piece of candy in his hand.
“Oh! Thank you…”
“Do you not like it?”
“I do, it’s just that… I’m not a kid anymore.”
“You aren’t? But it only has been 20 years.”
“That’s the thing. When I first helped you, I was 8. I became a teenager 5 year later, then an adult at 18 years. We humans age quicker than fairies.”
“Oh.”
“It’s fine! I still like candy, but it’s not the best thing in the world to me anymore.”
“Well, what would you like instead?”
“…I’d say a new arm would be nice. Lost my other in a car accident.”
“I can do that! Just give me a minute & I’ll get you a new one!”
“Thank you!”
The fairy then flies away as the man sits on a bench, gripping where his arm used to be. He smiles, thanking his younger self for being so brave back then.
|
# Soulmage
**The fairy was insectile, buzzing-winged and compound-eyed and tactile-haired as they descended.** In the dreaming space of my fractured soul, they alighted on nothing, watching shards of my memories floating into the void between stars around me.
"You don't remember me," the fairy said, tilting their head.
I let out a short bark of a laugh, gesturing at my twinkling memories drifting away. "Do I look like I want to remember?"
"This is different." The fairy's wings blurred twice. "I am a dream you forgot when you awoke." They reached out and grabbed a soul shard as it passed, a slice of winter and stiff, dead hands. "This is reality which you wish to render a dream."
I shrugged. "People drown their sorrows in alcohol or dust to forget all the time. Is using a spell to achieve the same result any different?"
"Such fine company you put yourself in, \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_." The name they spoke grated on my soul, and I scowled.
"You're the one who chose to come to me," I shot back. "Who the hell are you, anyway, and why—*how*—are you here in my soul?"
"Any sufficiently forgiving memory of a fairy is a fairy," they said, waving a hand as if that explained everything. Well, fuck you too, you enigmatic glowbug. "I did not mean to condemn you. It is not so uncommon a desire, to forget."
Another soul shard blurred past me, a goblin's snap-necked stare. Falling into the stars.
"Then go away. Flap off into the void. I've made my choice. I'm not forgetting everything. Just... the worst parts."
A grinning, dripping smile that still haunted my sleep floated past me, and the fairy reached an arm out to catch it. I glared at them, but they simply studied it, then turned it towards me.
"The monster you faced," they asked. "If you forget his face, how will you know to run when he next rears his head?"
I scowled. "Iola is dead. I killed him."
"I was not speaking of the man in specific, but the monster in general." They set the memory at their side, letting it hover in my soul; though I shied away from its leering gaze, I made no move to destroy it.
"You're one to talk," I shot back. "You think this is the *first* time I've forgotten the bullshit that plagues my life?"
"You forgot your deadname," the fairy agreed. "But that was a memory that could no longer be learned from. A trauma with no purpose beyond pain."
"And getting stalked and nearly killed by an eldritch abomination isn't the same," I deadpanned.
The fairy shook their head sadly. "None still in your life could invoke that name to harm you. But the monsters you wish to forget will strike at you still. To forget them now would only invite you to re-create those memories anew."
I stared at the fairy, then snatched the memory back, hurling it at the orbiting planetoid that formed my soul. "Fine," I snapped. "One last time. Until the monsters are dead, I'll remember."
The fairy's smile was achingly human, despite her insectile face. "That's the thing, Cienne. The monsters won't die unless you kill them."
I turned my back on the memory of the fairy as the dream dissolved around me, soulspace melting away until reality seared at my wide-open eyes.
A.N.
This story is part of Soulmage, a serial written in response to writing prompts. Check out the rest of the story [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/bubblewriters/comments/uxmwe4/soulmage_masterpost/), or r/bubblewriters for more!
|
Pope-Francisco
|
meowcats734
|
2023-04-04 17:49:21
|
2023-04-04 17:18:42
| 544 | 158 |
jey1e8p
|
jexwnky
|
12bnooo
|
12bnooo
|
[WP] Humans are often abducted as exotic pets for aliens. One day, your owner enters with a book and starts trying to speak your language.
|
Tentacled Mass was holding something which glowed a bit differently than the usual something. No food this time, no treats, not frilly little outfits or new toys or anyhthing, just the glowing device, matte black along one side, flattish. A bit like a cell phone, but about 3 feet long and only a few inches across. medical maybe?
Sitting up I headed over to check things out.
TM made the usual assortment of bioluminous greeting colors, including the teal-and-amber flicker that it had named me, and then the device chimed, and spat out a rough, grating parrot's voice saying "HELLO" at about six times the volume I would have ever wanted to hear such a thing.
I jumped back, and covered my ears. "Oh no no no no no that was NOT the deal." I grumbled. "Free healthcare, food, housing, all the basics - not this. I'm a pet goddamn it!"
TM watched the device, and then flashed vibrant pink, a happy color. "IT WORKS"
"Too loud - and no thank you!" I shouted, and ran back to my little nest.
|
The Tower is a habitat created for human beings. It holds many floors of varying ecosystems due to human nature's trait of incredible adaptability, the species have created different forms of cultures and civilizations. To this species, the tower was their entire world, and anything beyond the walls was a being known as the Master. They are an enormous alien being who came to Earth one day and collected multiple individuals from our home planet. For what purpose, that remains uncertain but they maintained the ecosystem and climates within the Tower with great meticulous care.
This being we refer to as our Master, whom we have not seen its true appearance. Each floor has its colony recording each of its everyday lives through "confession rituals", typing down our lives now and then. Some who are more devout would write down their lives routinely, from weekly, monthly, or even daily. The colonies themselves are named by the Master, and each of them has an individual appointed by the Master to essentially be their envoy in the colony, occasionally acting as a figure of authority in certain circumstances. Their duties involve organizing information collected from the confessionals within the terminal. Each record, is filed accordingly, with date, importance, etc. It all depends on how the envoys organized how the records are organized, and if the Master is satisfied with their work, they would be rewarded accordingly.
Formerly known as Lough DF10 from the Erdhiz Colony, I was designated by the master to be the succeeding envoy under the new name O'sh. Today, I would meet the avatar of the Master to undergo the rites and training required to become the Envoy of my colony. This fills me with anticipation but also nervousness, knowing that I bear the responsibility for my colony and the Master and should I fail, the consequences are not only mine to bear but the colony as a whole.
Nevertheless, I could only dare hope that I would be able to reach the Master's expectations of me. This is the final log as Lough DF10 as I would undergo training with the Master and would not be required to participate in the confessional rituals nor I would be using this account for any future confessions if I may be required or desire to. The master has assigned me a new personal account that establishes my identity as the 42nd Envoy of the colony and that I would use this account to hold any records both personal and work-related.
The Avatar of the Master has been announced to arrive shortly at the designated meeting place, so this is where I end this log.
Farewell Lough DF10.
\------------------------------------------------
As the young man rests his finger on the holographic keyboard, the log has been saved and uploaded into the terminal amongst the many others. O'sh would organize these records, and a week's worth, after his secluded training with the Master. Shutting down the computer, the young man quickly starts doing some last-minute preparations before meeting the Master.
Gazing upon the mirror, O'sh combed his black-brown, braided hair into a neat bun, revealing a set of hazel eyes resting upon a round face and tanned skin. Smoothing out the creases on his clothes, he takes an attempt to smile. O'sh regretted it immediately as his face twisted into a cringe, deciding to keep a neutral expression to maintain his dignity. Soon, the young man walked out of his room and made his way through the door outside.
1/?
|
None
|
Common-Scallion-3497
|
2023-12-29 10:53:02
|
2023-12-29 07:49:11
| 50 | 25 |
kfecpmo
|
kfdy3c0
|
18t93xa
|
18t93xa
|
[WP] You accidentally saved a princess from a tower. Now she won't stop following you, blabbing about "true love."
|
"Billy! What's that you have there?" My mother growls menacingly.
Crap! "Nothing mom!" And I tried to hurry past into the cave.
And she's stepped in front of me. "Stop right there! Is that..." she sniffs deeply "Is that a human you have there?!" She says indignantly.
"I love him!" the human holding onto my neck chain squeaked in that way all humans do. I'm so dead but gotta try.
"Awww mom! Can I keep her? She has nowhere to go! She hardly eats anything! She's a real princess." I may have been weedling with that last part.
My mother was not amused. "Oh yeah a real princess. It starts with a random wench and pretty soon we'll have knights. How did you even find this 'princess'?" She even air quoted with her wing tips. "You pick her up from a dairy?"
Now I was angry but my princess squeaked as loud as she could "My love saved me from the evil witch who locked me away in a tower. He knocked it over and saved me from certain death by snatching me from the air!"
I murmured "It was an accident."
My mother lowered her snout to look my princess in the eye. "A real witch and tower? Not some milk maid? If you break his heart" she growled, letting some smoke escape her jaws, "I'll eat you." And my mother slinked back into the cave to sit on the eggs that would one day be my siblings.
|
"But you saved me that means we are supposed to be together its just how it works sir."
"I have a wife I cant take another we've known each other since we were kids, ive known you for about five minutes and in that five minutes you tried to seduce me fifteen different ways, flashed me so that you could claim that now that ive seen you naked bust I owed it to you and have "tripped" into me knocking me down an causing me to accidentally touch your breast as I tried to catch myself, you are out of control and I am taking you back to the kingdom to get you out of my hair so I can go back home to my WIFE who I will love until the end of the gods."
"Fine. I didnt want to have to do this." *Thunk and a fade to black*
As you wake up you find that you are chained in a royal looking bedroom with no weapons and in royal garb rather than you common rags. Confused and scared you look around while trying to escape only to hear the door open and a crazy giggle from the very same princess who knocked you out but now she was covered in something red. "oh hes awake bring her in and bring the children too" She says as her wicked smile becomes more deranged, you soon see you wife being carted in with poorly tended amputations that were sure to get infected and cuts all across the visible parts of her body. "do you still love your wife now that she is nothing but a broken mass of meat? look at my handiwork, not bad right she'll be scarred forever if the infection doesnt take her first, ill do the same to you kids and I will make sure that they don't get any type of treatment at all unless you marry me after all we are meant to be for only my true love could rescue me."
You hear you wife try to say something but she couldnt without her tongue and she couldnt see you with eyes sewn shut so she was looking in the wrong direction to talk to you. *SLAP* "don't try to talk undesirable thats why I ripped your tongue out, so you couldnt try to talk your dear husband out of marrying me!"
"Whats wrong with you?! Why did you have to do that to my wife, and why would I want to marry you now? My answer is still no!" you scream anger filling your vision until you see the princess start to chuckle before she breaks out into a demented laugh.
"Very well I guess you get to watch your kids befall the same fate and that will be your last chance because if you say no after that ill do the same to you stick your wife and kids in the filth cell of the dungeon to ensure they don't make it and we will go down every day so you can see you beloved family slowly rot while they are still alive before the finally die of infection. If you say yes however they will be well tended and will live a painless rich life in another city as "royalty" never to see you again but not in pain and never mistreated." With that you hear screams as your kids are prepared for the torture that was planned.
"Fine fine I-ill do it ill marry you" You say as you watch as your family is torn apart both figuratively and literally.
"oh you can do better than that ask me to marry you don't just say you'll do it." she says unwavering as she is cutting you kids tongues out.
"OK OK Will you marry me?!" you cry as your families bodies are destroyed by this evil soon to be queen.
Only once she finishes making your kids match your wife does she respond "YES, OH MY GOD YES I WILL! YAY! now guards get these things out of our room and dump them into a garderobe and seal it off from both sides after dumping some excrement into it.
"Wait you said-"
"I know what I said but did you really think I would do that honey? who knows what you would've done now we have a wedding to get ready for and then after that we'll consumate our marriage in the same room that your family is in so the last thing they hear is us consumating our marriage." The princess cackled menacingly.
|
GoogleIsYourFrenemy
|
Deathhunter2
|
2023-09-22 03:05:01
|
2023-09-21 20:41:15
| 22 | 13 |
k1nuu5f
|
k1m8wfu
|
16okoso
|
16okoso
|
[WP] The dragon spoke, "Release my human, and we will leave you all in peace. Do not, and I will reduce your walls to rubble to rescue them myself."
|
‘More tea, Frilon?’
INDUBITABLY. OHOHOHO…
“I knew it!”
‘Oh shit, Frilon!’
WHO DARES ENTER THE LAIR OF THE MIGHTY-
“Drop the act, I knew you two were up to something.”
(I THINK HE KNOWS)
‘(He could be bluffing. Do the usual)’
“Woah! Oi, stop that.”
DO NOT DODGE THE TAILSWIPES TO THE LEFT, UGLY KNIGHT.
“Princess! This is getting old. Come down from that tower and go back to the palace.”
‘Never! Im waiting for the knight of my dreams!’
“This is the fourth time this season I’m working on a Sunday. I’ve been slaying demons for the whole week and you’ve ruined me time at *ye olde bathhouse and spa*. Get down before I go up there.”
HAVE ONE OF THE WORTHY KNIGHTS COME, LIKE THAT UH, GOOBYGOCK-
‘Goldenlocks’
GOLDENLOCKS!
“Listen here, drake. You know why the king sent me instead of Sir Goldenlocks or Baron Cleanshave? Because- look at this boulder- **SMASH** This is what they’ll do to you if they’re on the job.”
(MARGOT? I DON’T WANT TO PLAY ANYMORE)
‘Y-you’re just jealous because you want my hand in marriage.’
“I have a wife and three kids, you…r majesty. I have a stable job that pays well and a plot of land ready for my retirement. All I ask is that you and your *friend* play *imaginary hero rescue* on the weekdays, preferably during work hours.”
(WHAT DO YOU THINK?)
(‘We’ll still have Sneaky Saturday’)
“I can hear you, you know.”
|
Belthas heard the roar from inside the tower. He hurried over to the window to see his dragon friend flying in a massive arc over the city. Down below he could see people fleeing in every direction.
Guards dropped their weapons and ran for cover in a panicked frenzy. Families shut every window and door to their homes.
He knew he should pity them, but his heart filled with joy at the spectacle. Tears filled his eyes as a dozen more dragons, of all different sizes, filled the sky. Maegor, their leader, slowly descended onto the city's front gate. Behind him, the other dragons landed.
"Hear me citizens of Kerak." Maegor bellowed. "Release my human, and we will leave you all in peace. Do not, and I will reduce your walls to rubble and free them myself." Maegor roared once more and the other dragons joined him. The very earth shook and Belthas was forced to cover his ears.
"What say you?" Maegor bellowed. An eerie silence followed.
"Maegor!" Belthas cried out. "Maegor I'm here!" Belthas heard footsteps in the tower. He turned just in time to see the city's mayor, Rorath, peer through the vision slit of his door.
"I knew I shouldn't have trusted you," Rorath growled "What devilry possessed you to take up with them? Against your own kind and kin!"
"They are my friends, brother." Belthas said calmly.
"Until their stomachs are empty, like your head." Keys rattled and clanked, and the heavy bolt for the door was undone with a loud thunk. The hinges of the door whined as it opened. Rorath stood menacingly, glowering at Belthas. "Go. Go be with your *friends*."
Slowly, Belthas began to walk towards the door. Rorath's eyes followed him all the while. Meekly he squeezed past Rorath. In a flash, Rorath's dagger was out of its sheath and in his hands.
Belthas flinched and froze with fear.
"I said GO!" Rorath belted. "Go before I cut your throat!"
Belthas turned and ran as fast as he could down the winding staircase. He nearly fell but caught himself on the wall. By the time he reached the bottom, he was out of breath. Briskly he made his way through the castle, hateful stares following him through every hall and corridor.
"Traitor." murmured a young girl. "Coward." said an elderly man. "Worm." an elderly lady spat. Finally, he reached the main gate of the inner castle. All that was left to do was cross the drawbridge over the moat, and then it was a straight shot to the main castle's gate. There, atop the parapets, stood Maegor. The city walls were nearly ten meters high, and Maegor made them look small. Under his massive talons, the stones crumbled and cracked.
When Maegor saw Belthas, he let out a small roar. Small for Maegor, at least. Maegor's tail flicked and he shifted eagerly on the wall. The stone towers on either side of the gate crumbled under the shifting weight, and clumsily Maegor stumbled down onto the main street.
Belthas broke out into a sprint towards Maegor, and Maegor dropped his massive head down to meet his embrace. Maegor's head and neck covered nearly half the distance. Belthas barely slowed down before colliding with Maegor's nose.
"Friend." Belthas said tearily. Maegor let out a sigh and Belthas was surrounded by the hot air. It didn't bother him in the slightest. Belthas stepped back to look at his friend. Maegor slowly opened his mouth and his massive tongue gently pressed against Belthas' face. Belthas giggled as he leaned into the tongue, so as not to be knocked off his feet.
Maegor dropped his head and tilted it for Belthas to climb on. When Belthas was halfway up, Maegor flicked his head to help Belthas up the rest of the way. "The others have missed you." Maegor said softly. "And so have I."
Belthas, laying flat, squeezed the scales he was holding onto just a little tighter. Maegor lept over the gate wall, spread his wings, and with a running start, the pair took off into the sky.
|
hatabou_is_a_jojo
|
TheManEric
|
2025-01-13 03:24:23
|
2023-01-28 19:35:58
| 101 | 36 | null |
j69prgi
|
1hzzhzi
|
10nb6cj
|
[WP] “Why should I care what you think, dad? Humans only live for a hundred years if they’re lucky! Me and mom will be here for thousands!”
|
*"Heroes!"* The booming voice of the titan of a man with glowing eyes seated on a golden throne startled us awake. *"I have summoned you here to ask that you save the world I watch over. The laws that bind gods are strict, and I may not lay a finger upon it to enact my will. Thus, I have selected five souls from a different world to act as champions! Souls that would find the task an exhilirating adventure. Rest assured, you shall be greatly rewarded for your hard work, and as a "starting bonus" as I believe you might call it, you may each select the vessel of your souls in this world."*
He really couldn't have picked a more eager group. The five of us were about to start a DnD campaign for crying out loud, this was 200 times better than a tabletop game. The other four discussed the repurcussions and implications, then got down to what bodies they wanted. I already knew.
"We are ready," said Roger, our defacto leader since he was a great DM and knew how to wrangle us into an effective team. "When do we start?"
*"Right now! Prepare yourselves, and good luck!"* The god smiled as golden light and a deafening chime slowly built around us. The adventure ahead of us was going to rock, but I was straining to hold myself back from cackling at the looks on their faces when they saw what I picked. The light and sound faded away, revealing a gorgeous view of rolling hills, forest, mountains, and a city not too far away, all of it beneath a clear blue sky.
Roger was now an elf in grand robes with a fancy looking staff, tall and strong while maintaining that otherworldly grace the tree huggers were known for.
Tracy had picked an orc dressed in pelts that looked like they were skinned from dangerous beasts, two large hatchets on her richly muscled hips that looked like they could split skulls with ease, the weapons and the hips. She did always want to have an amazon physique, guess she saw her chance and took it.
Gus turned himself into a lizardfolk that was even taller than Tracy, but looked like he weighed 1/3rd of what she did. He was a huge fan of dextrous, fast paced characters, and this fit the bill if the ridiculous amount of daggers I could see strapped to his body (and the many I couldn't see but just KNEW he had) were anything to go by, not to mention the rapier.
Amy had become a human cleric in clean white robes with a mace on her belt, a fan of simple builds that helped everyone. Definitely the mom of the party, and our permanent healer.
"Steven... what the hell is that?" Gus hissed out a sigh, knowing how much I liked to come up with wacky homebrew characters. His exasperated reaction made everyone look over to see what bull I'd come up with this time. They all groaned and face palmed.
My huge mouth was pulled up into a savage smile as I began chuckling at them, then flat out guffawing. The base was a giant snake of at least 50 foot length, but everything else was unmistakably dragon. A majestic crown of horns, a glowing belly full of fire, the beautiful armor of deep red scales, and six spanning wings that would take some getting used to but would eventually let me become the master of the blue sky overhead.
"FEAR ME, PUNY MORTALS! TREMBLE AT MY PASSING!" I bellowed with a shit eating grin. I spread my wings wide enough to overshadow the hill we were standing on (laying in my case) and roared into the air to announce my power.
"You jackass!" Roger said. He was fully used to my antics and attempts to shoehorn weird shit into his games. "How do you expect to fit in anywhere, or enter dungeons?! Your fat ass couldn't fit in a barn, let alone a narrow fortress hallway!"
"YOUR WHINING ANGERS ME, ELF," I leered at the mage, showing off my mouth full of *very* pointy teeth. He was unimpressed. "WORRY NOT; I SHALL DESTROY OUR FOES WHEREVER THEY MAY HIDE. PLUS, YOU ONLY HAVE TO SPLIT THE LOOT FOUR WAYS NOW."
"You're so stupid it hurts, it causes me physical pain." Amy sighed, "That said, having a death wyrm on our side is a tactical bonus we can't ignore, and he's right about the loot. We can also have him carry our gear for us." My eyes narrowed
"I AM *NOT* A PACK MULE, YOU WILL NOT TREAT ME AS SUCH." Tracy waved off my complaining.
"You turn into a giant beast, you get to carry our shit while we deal with yours. We always try to find some kind of positive to your shenanigans, Steven. This time: pack mule." I groaned, a sound that shook the earth.
"FINE, BUT DON'T BLAME ME IF IT FALLS OFF AT 3,000 FEET IN THE AIR AND SMASHES INTO THE GROUND AS SCRAP. NOW CLIMB ON, I'LL GET US TO THAT CITY FASTER THAN YOUR TINY LEGS." With that, our adventure began, and it was awesome.
|
The five of us laid, some collapsed, on the hill of the graveyard. The smell of singed grass was still coating the air as we laughed and picked bone fragments out of our hair.
"We actually did it." Eric said, a disbeliving grin forming on his face. Back home he was the star of the college football who carried them to victory more times than his friends bothered to keep up with. He was tall, muscular, dirty blonde hair, and full of confidence. In this world he literally carried some of the group a few times as injuries mounted and undead monsters were broken into pieces.
Selena sighed with exhaustion and contentment. "Yeah. Barely." She was known for her obsession with chemistry and was hoping to start her career as a scientist in one of the most renown research companies in the world in six months when she would have finished her degree. Her sharp mind quickly picked up the alchemic magic of the world, of course she still didn't believe in "magic" despite being the most skilled in it of the group. To her it was explainable by the science of the world, thus it was simply science.
Ralph brought himself to a sitting position before letting out a yell echoing across the graveyard "WE FUCKING KILLED THE SHIT OUT THAT LICH!" which earned him a swift and playful punch from his girlfriend, Alice "Easy on our eardrums, dork. We don't need to wake any more of the dead with your shouting." The two had been dating longer than the six years the group had gotten together for the first time back in highschool. Ralph was a chaotic punk with fizzy red hair and a lean build. Alice was a short and sassy theater major with half blue, half green dyed hair and a temper that would make even a god apologize - which in fact he did after she chewed him out for teleporting us here against our will. The two made a good pair and brought out the excited passion in each other than made them so fun to be around.
Lastly there was me, Daniel, the weird emo kid of the group. I looked closer to the skeletons than I did to Eric or Ralph. Pale, thin, and slighlty below average height. My clothing seemed to always be exclusively black. Before our dysfunctional little breakfast club had ever come together I never had more than a single friend at a time, always feeling like I never quite fit in or belonged until the group's extroverts: Eric, Ralph, and Alice, adopted me into their party.
I groaned, "Please, don't even joke about it. I'm going to have to shower for hours after this. Did you guys see that newly raised guy? I think I got brains all over my shirt." Eric laughed, "Holy shit that was wild! Ralph basically exploded that dude's head!" I noticed Ralph smile smugly staring at the clouds. He let out a soft and satisfied, "fuck yeah."
Selena rolled her eyes and began to ask "So, what happens n-" when a harsh beam of light poured over the group and cutting off her train of thought. Alice screamed "NO FUCK THIS! NOT THIS FUCKING SHIT AGAIN WE JUST FINISHED THIS STUPID ADVENTURE I SWEAR TO GOD IF WE HAVE T-" and that was the last I remember hearing until we all collectively woke up in a clean porcelain white throne room. The god of this world, Zelaruse, boasted loudly with cheer. "YOU'VE DONE IT, CHAMPIONS! I KNEW YOU WOULD!"
Selena remembered where she left off and asked Zelaruse, "So can we go home now? We did what you asked."
Zelaruse nodded with a smile, "Of course, of course champion. But first a reward. The most powerful magic I can bestow upon you. I can transform your body until any of your dreams. I must warn you however, you should picture only your most ideal self. This is not a spell I will repeat for you, no matter my debt. Transformation magic is dangerous work and changing a body to anything but its ideal form would be far too dangerous." His look was serious now and he looked at each of us in the eye as if to see we had paid our fullest attention. Finally he continued, "Now. Close your eyes and imagine your best self. What will make you happiest."
The group was left in a hushed awe, no one knowing what to really say. We closed our eyes and thought deeply. I'm unsure how much time passed, perhaps it was just a few moments, but it felt like days. I could feel my body shifting and morphing into something else, but there was no pain. If anything, it felt good. It felt necessary.
When we opened our eyes next Ralph was the first to speak. "YOOO LET'S FUCKING GO!!" His body had grown slightly taller. His face had developed a striking jawline. His six pack was obvious through his ripped shirt. He was largely the same, just what he considered to be 20% hotter. Alice giggled but couldn't take her eyes off him, "I could get used to this." Her hair was longer as well as her body. Her weight had shifted from a slight pudge to supermodel thin. Her ears pointed, marking the sure sign of an elf but otherwise she was almost exactly the same. Ralph looked back to her, jaw dropping with only a little exaggeration. "Okay I am definitely into elves now."
"Check it out, check it out!" Eric boasted flexing his massive new muscles. He had chosen the form of a minotaur and looked like he could benchpress the group without breaking a sweat. His dark black horns shined brilliantly in the white room.
"You know, that honestly tracks." Selena smirked. She was the least changed of the group. Her large breasts had shrunken to half their size. She was no longer wearing glasses. Her teeth gleamed with a new found whiteness to them, but aside from that she was almost exactly as she had been.
Ralph managed to tear his eyes off Alice long enough to laugh, "Wait.. Why did you get SMALLER boobs?" She shot back instantly, "Dude, boobs that big *hurt*! Fuck that, this feels so much nicer. I bet I could run down stairs with these bad boys."
The usually bashful Alice whispered in utter shock, "Guys.. Holy shit. Daniel." The group all looked back at me and their eyes bulging and the quiet densely flooded the room for what felt like an eternity. My face glowed red and I stammered, "W-what?" My voice surprising myself with how light it sounded.
Selena bit her lip and then gently said, "Daniel. Why didn't you tell us you were trans?" My stomach tighted and I felt myself wanting to disappear as I looked back and forth between Eric and Ralph. "You mean you guys like being... Guys? I thought everyone wanted to be a girl and we all just kind of dealt with the hand we got?" I could feel my confidence sinking with each word.
Eric let out a soft, "Dude.. No.." Even Ralph was quiet. "Nah man. Not at all. Like I've never even considered it."
"Oh." I said with tears forming around my eyes.
Alice closed the gap and hugged me tightly as I felt my body wanting to drop and melt into the ground, waves of conflicting feelings gushing through me. "You know we all still love you, right? I'm really happy for you. I just wish you let us know sooner. We would have supported you no matter what."
I gave a nervous chuckle, "I wish I really knew earlier myself. I never really thought it was even much of an option."
Selena piped in, "Hey, how about we call you Danielle now!" Smiling with pride of her idea. I smiled too. "Yeah. That'd be nice I think."
|
Jyx_The_Berzer_King
|
DoomGloomAngst
|
2023-02-27 08:21:07
|
2023-02-27 05:51:50
| 87 | 46 |
ja6yqi6
|
ja6mv5b
|
11ctaxn
|
llrdyo
|
[WP] An automated mining drone returns to earth from its mission after being delayed on it's return home. It was constructed roughly 3 million years ago.
|
The faery stumbled into the room gracelessly. She got up, eyes wide open, staring across the room as if she was scared of what she would find.
And she should have been, as the villain Queen She-Devil was in there, surrounded by her most ferocious lieutenants. Some of them got up from their chairs, though a couple henchmen would be way enough to deal with the fae. The real trouble usually came with the magical girls.
"I can't believe I found you first..." said the faery. "For the love of the Moon, run! NOW!"
"What?" said Queen She-Devil.
"What?" repeated her lieutenants.
"What, what? What isn't clear? I told you to run!"
"But, why?"
Tears ran down the fae's eyes.
"Because my girls are psychopaths. They will... they will 'purgatory' you. With violence!"
Some henchmen laughed quietly, but the Queen wasn't amused.
"Aren't magical girls supposed to use... magic? Friendship and love and other nauseating stuff? Isn't it how they always win, and everything?"
"But that's the problem, they don't always win... so I tried to find some champions that could, you know..." the fae swallowed hard. "... handle themselves in a fight."
The lieutenants, seeing that Queen She-Devil took this seriously, started to look uncertain.
"You look like you rescind your choice." she said. "Can't you just take back the powers you gave them and move on?"
The lights went off. Through the remaining half-light, everyone heard the footsteps. Slow, deliberate steps, metal on metal. A hulking shape loomed through the entrance. A shape reminiscent of a medieval knight in full armor, but bigger.
Way bigger. What looked like a knife on his side was, in fact, a sword.
"SAY THE WORDS." boomed a voice that sounded like coming from a loudspeaker.
The fae started crying again. Other armored giants followed behind the first one.
"I... no... the Moon... please..."
"I WILL NOT REPEAT THIS. SAY. THE. WORDS."
The giant unsheathed his sword. It had eyes. And teeth.
The fae backed into a corned, shaking, crying. Terrified.
"Blood... for the blood... oh, Moon, pardon me... Blood for the Blood God!"
Chainswords started revving in the dark, and the villains suddenly knew true fear.
|
\[Royally Blasted\]
"WHO DARES TO OPPOSE ASH REGENCY!???" Gia screamed at the five uniformed soldiers. They arrived just as she began causing chaos downtown. It was mid-afternoon and most of the people had fled as soon as she announced her presence. But, the five women stood defiantly as black smoke swirled around them.
"We're the Magical Platoon," one of them answered with a smirk. She had sharp, piercing blue eyes, and short-cropped silver hair. "Alpha Squad! Sound off!"
"DUTY'S CALL, AWAKEN ALL!" The five women announced in unison; and released an explosion of colorful smoke. After the smoke cleared, they all stood in different uniforms.
"PRIVATE GALE SWIFTWIND!" She had spiky blonde hair and wore forest green slacks. Crisp gold vertical lines ran down each side of her legs and complimented the golden epaulettes on her white top.
"CORPORAL AQUA RIVERS!" Her blue hair was tied back in a neat bun. Her slacks were aqua blue, but otherwise matched the rest of the team.
"SERGEANT TERRA FIRMA!" She had short brown hair with purple slacks. Her uniform fit her a little tighter than the others thanks to her muscular physique.
"LIEUTENANT EMBER BLAZE!" Her red ponytail burst into flames as she introduced herself; her slacks matched the red color in her hair.
"I'm Captain Marina Stormhold. And, in the name of the United States Government; we're gonna slaughter you." Gale Swiftwind launched forward as soon as Marina finished. She moved fast and caught Gia by surprise with a knee to the stomach.
"Ow..," Gia doubled over; but, she recovered quickly. Gale moved behind her, then hooked her arm around Gia to put her in a chokehold.
"You're new, aren't you?" Gia managed to eek out the question; then, she ignited into a roaring bonfire.
"AAHGGH1" Gale let go and fell back stumbling. Her eyes got too much heat and light and she had trouble seeing. Then, the ground started shaking beneath Gia. Terra was kneeling with her hands touching the ground as a crack in the street spidered toward Gia.
"Well now you're just destroying things for no reason," Gia giggled as a pair of flaming wings took shape behind her and she hovered up into the air. She glanced over to Aqua, her main concern, and the Magical Soldier was in a prone position aiming an enchanted blue rifle.
"Quit pointing, it's rude," Gia giggled and made a dismissive gesture with her hand and a storm of fireballs rained down on Aqua; but, none of them struck. As the fireballs fell, they changed direction and flew toward Ember. She collected the flames in her hand, and dispersed them.
"Fine, I guess I need to - ow," Gia flinched as a rock grazed her cheek.
"Hey, you already had a turn," Gia made a beckoning gesture, and a blaze erupted under Terra as the woman screamed.
"But... you haven't...,' Gia turned and focused on Marina. The soldier stood next to Aqua as she charged electricity between her hands.
"No one's taking turns," Marina grinned. "We're a team."
"STORMSHOT!" Aqua and Marina announced simultaneously as magical water gathered in front of the rifle. Marina charged the water with electricity and it shot forward at Gia.
"Nice try!" Gia giggled and she burned red hot to dispell it. But, her flames disappeared.
"She did say we were a team," Ember smiled as she stole the Gia's fire.
"NONONONONO! AGGGGUUHGGHH!" The electric ball struck Gia and disintegrated her completely.
"Excellent work, Alpha Squad. Let's get Gale and Terra patched up."
"I'm okay...," Terra said. Had some minor burns; but most of her body was covered with earthen stone.
"I'm so not!" Gale said. She was feeling around the empty air until Ember grabbed her hands and led her into a black portal.
"You good for repairs?" Marina asked Terra, and the muscular woman nodded.
"Yes, Ma'am."
"I'll leave you to it," she walked into the portal followed by Aqua, and it closed behind them. Terra surveyed the area to pick a starting point, and something caught her eye. She walked over to the sparkle as she shed the defensive layer. She found a bright blue node in the rubble. It was glassy like the node she already had; but, this one was translucent blue instead of clear. She picked it up and a black crescent moon flashed on the display for a moment. After it faded, a message came in.
\[Hello. Would you like to go on a quest? - Io\]
"Yeah," Terra chuckled and slid the node into her pocket. "Maybe later."
\*\*\* Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is story #2204 in a row. (Story #030 in year seven.). This story is part of an ongoing saga that takes place in my universe.
|
laancelot
|
HSerrata
|
2024-01-30 19:59:27
|
2024-01-30 18:06:32
| 75 | 36 |
kkb181q
|
kkagkcz
|
1aeoyzt
|
v4129k
|
[WP] You are a patron deity that physically appears before your followers in order to reward them for loyal service. Usually, they like to fulfill their darkest desires, so you’re completely caught off guard when one of them asks to feel “the embrace of a parent.”
|
I appear in a small meadow, just outside the Deathless Mountains.
In front of me kneels a mortal, a believer, someone I have chosen, someone I have blessed.
Today, for their undying loyalty, I appear before them in my physical form, to reward them.
I don't know how I look to the mortals, but they always cry out "Mother Void!", with teary eyes, and smiles on their faces.
This one isn't different.
"Speak thy wish, and I shall fulfill it, for thy work hasn't gone unnoticed, my child." I said to my follower.
I awaited the usual asks, unlimited power, men, women, wealth, eternal life, but his wish was...
Unexpected.
"I wish to feel the embrace of a parent." he muttered.
I looked at the mortal.
He was a man, and for a mortal he was already in their twilight years.
So I expected the wish to be something along the lines of eternal life, health, something like that.
But nonetheless, the wish was made.
I spread my arms, and before I could say anything, they rushed into my embrace.
I hugged him gently, and he hugged me so tightly, that if I were a mortal...
My corporeal form might have taken damage.
I kept hugging him, as I felt his body shiver.
He was...crying?
Mortals' emotions, and thought process was alien to me, other than the greed related ones.
So with a gentle touch, I read this follower's mind.
From a tender age, having lost their parents, they were raised to be a forest ranger...
They saw loss again and again, while trying to protect the forest that gave them a feeling of warmth.
Once, when almost dying against some Church of Fire priests, he met me.
I blessed him for protecting my domain, and ever since then he gave his life for my cause.
Not long ago, he vanquished a dragon rider, and their dragon, saving an ancient forest, one of the first ones on this planet.
That's why I came to reward him.
Lost in his memories, I could feel his hug relaxing.
I sighed.
I gently lowered his body onto the grass, and kissed his forehead.
"Rest, my child.
You deserve it." I said, closing his eyes, as his body was getting colder and colder.
His soul has left, joining my divine domain, as all of my followers do.
From the place I kissed his forehead, a sapling bloomed, slowly growing into a towering oak, his body nowhere to be seen.
I smiled.
In life, in death, he honors me, and protects his home.
With a last blessing on this meadow, I left, journeying the universe.
Life doesn't rest.
|
A good day's work deserves a good day's pay. That had been one of the basic tenets of my religion for eons. It was one that I often took for followers who were loyal in their service to me. Most other deities give me strange looks for going through the effort of creating a physical form and personally rewarding *every* single faithful follower. It's akin to a king going in person to visit every single loyal knight and guardsman under his command in order to give them a reward. It is a task more reserved towards one of the deity's champions or prophets. To do what I do is seen as 'lessening' the significance of the task that 'lowering' ourselves down to the level of mortals is supposed to bring. Perhaps that's why the other deities have less of a follower base than me? Perhaps that is why my followers are willing to come to me with their darkest desires.
Out of all the deities in the higher planes, with the exception of a few, I think I am the one that understand the mortals the most. I find them interesting. Deceitful little things. It is not as if they are trying to deceive everyone they meet, not exactly. They simply shun things about themselves so that they are more palatable to others. What is on the surface of a mortal is often not all there is to them. That bright light they show casts a deep shadow. A shadow in which they hide their darker selves.
Mortals often hide the darker aspect of themselves from other mortals. They feel the need to be ashamed of it. Especially when confronted with a deity claiming that they will give them anything as a reward. They feel as though it is a test of character. If it were any other divine being, perhaps it might be. For me, however, that is not the case. A good day's work deserves a good day's pay. The newer followers soon learn of the true fairness of this tenet with time.
Due to that tenet, in conjunction with others, I have seen the dark shadows that mortals often hide from each other. They flock to me to grant them their darkest desires because I hold no judgement. I've seen the gentlest souls turn into the cruelest deviants for an afternoon. I've seen my followers' hands soaked red in blood of those that had wronged them in some way. I've blessed mortals with powers, granted them visions of futures yet to be, seen every dark and twisted action performed under the sun and moon. So, one can imagine my surprise when one of my paladins gave my an innocent request.
The man stood tall and bulky even without his typical plate armor. His skin was dark as charcoal which allowed the pink scars that crossed his face and arms to stand out all the more. He wore normal clothing for a human with leather armor covering the major areas of his body. His brown eyes gazed into mine. Not many can do this without shaking in awe or fear, sometimes a combination of both. However, that was not what I saw in his eyes. Within those brown irises, I only saw a silent plea for his wish to be granted.
"I shall grant your wish, Mason of Windcreek," I spoke before tilting my head to the side in curiousity. "May I ask as to why you want this as a reward? I am not judging. I am merely curious."
"Can you not peer into my mind to find the answer for yourself?" Mason replied. His voice was deep and raspy. Almost as if a landslide was given a human body to inhabit.
"I can, but I try not to gaze into the minds of my followers as a rule. You would be surprised as to how many deities don't give their followers the right of privacy." came my answer. The man hesitated. For once, his eyes held fear in them. For what, I wasn't completely certain, but I could make a guess. "You don't have to tell me now, young Mason. Perhaps during your next prayer session?"
"... I will do that then. Yes..." Mason was anxious now, shifting on his feet like a child waiting for a gift but not wanting to be obvious about it. I couldn't help but to chuckle at the sight of the usually stoic man acting like this. It was a sight I didn't think I'd see.
I made my way done the stone steps of my altar. All the while, my form shifted to what I remembered being the ideal form of a mother for humans during this time. Soften facial features, long hair put into a bun, a bit of pudginess from a recent pregnancy, and a voice as soft and warm as a summer breeze. "Come here, my child," I tell him. For he was my child, all my followers were my children. I spoil them rotten enough for them to be so. My arms wrapped around him and pulled him into a tight hug. I hope I didn't put too much strength into it. It's hard to gauge that kind of thing with these physical avatars.
Mason hesitated for a moment but soon returned the hug. He held on tightly. The strength of his embrace only intensified as time went on, clutching onto me as if he'd lose me in any second. I did not notice how he shivered slightly in my hold. Nor did I mention the soft sounds of a man sobbing softly. I do not judge him as he nearly begs for the hug to go on for longer. A good day's work deserves a good day's pay after all.
|
TheWanderingBook
|
Strict-Parsley-6495
|
2025-03-12 14:35:46
|
2025-03-12 13:44:59
| 20 | 15 |
mhe34ra
|
mhdtkok
|
1j9ghp8
|
1j9ghp8
|
[WP] you were the only child that didn't have powers in a family of metahumans. Today you got kidnapped by a supervillain... and none of your family came to the rescue.
|
I can't help but feel like I was cursed with bad luck. I was navigating life as best as I could and had hope for a better future after I graduated in a few years. Yet it was on my way walking to school that I was suddenly pulled into a van and had my mouth covered. Chloroform doesn't work like it does in the movies. There is no passing out almost instantly. I was able to struggle for a period of time before it took affect but they were stronger than me.
It was when I woke up that I discovered who had kidnapped me, the supervillain who hated my parents the most.
He appeared on the scene not that long ago and had targeted my family right from the start with a fiery hatred that he didn't hide. I guess he hoped to cause my family pain by taken me, he would soon find out that he had wasted his time. I had expected to be put in some sort of dungeon when we arrived at his hide out, some cold infested cell to be kept in until I died since my family wouldn't even bother trying to find me. Yet I was given a normal room with an attached bathroom. He seemed to be a lot kinder to me than I expected. It was later on in the day that I was summoned to his office for a talk. I decided to speak first.
"They won't come. You've wasted your time kidnapping me."
" I know."
"Pardon?"
"I know they won't come. I knew that from the first moment I targeted you."
"Then why did you take me if it wasn't an attempt to have leverage over my family?"
"A rescue of sorts, I knew you would never come with me or a stranger willingly, from what I observed you were always too smart for that. Tell me, how much do you know about your family? Your siblings?"
I couldn't help but face confusion.
"My parents and older siblings are well known super heroes and seem to be well loved by most of the city. Their powers showed early in their childhoods as well, something they had expected from me as well."
"How many siblings do you have?"
Why was I being questioned about this?
"I have a younger sister and an older brother and sister. My eldest brother died from what my parents said. They didn't tell me much more about him."
"Because he was like you at first. No powers to show, an embarrassment. What they didn't know is that he had to die for his powers to come out. He ran away when he was young and couldn't find a home anywhere. Was told that someone else would come but that was a lie because no one did. It was a harsh winter where he fell asleep and awoke with powers of snow and ice. Something they never knew. "
He turned and pressed a few buttons on a monitor and the screen lit up and there were my parents.
"How did you manage to contact us? What do you want?"
The man removed his mask and I saw the color drain from their faces. After a long pause the man spoke once more
"Mother. Father. It's been a while."
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Just a rough draft blurb that came to mind
|
"father of all the women you could have kidnapped- you chose my fiancée"
Terrence, my fiance sighs looking over at his father.
"This may be our only chance to win"
"For the tenth thousand, time!, they're not going to come for me- Babe please explain to you apparently brainless father cause apparently my family don't give to shits whether I live or die isn't something he can comprehend from my mouth. Maybe hearing it from yours will hammer the nails in" I sigh, completely over everything.
Terrence walks over undoing the cell and the rope binding my wrists and ankles together.
"Terrence, Tell your fiancée that her family must come for that's how it always goes, always has gone and forever will go" Kevin, the villain, bites back.
"Ugh, and you wonder why everyone fucking hates you. God your so fucking insufferable"
"Babe- hey it's okay and father listen to her please, remember what you told me. Just because a hero is a hero doesn't mean they're everyone's hero, and just because a villain is a villain doesn't mean they're everyone's villian"
"That's actually bittersweet, Kevin that's going in the family quote book"
"Thanks, and back on topic. So you're telling me that your parents don't care."
"Yep, the only reason I'm still alive is because they claim that they're over adoption and there were complications during my mother's pregnancy that resulted in her needing an emergency hysterectomy not long afterwards"
Terrence pulls out his phone, looking at his messages.
"They didn't- well there goes their reputation"
"Hm" both me and his father curiously.
"Dad went public on your kidnapping, naturally for it being a simple textbook kidnapping. Your parents have just claimed you never existed and that all the proof is just AI and for people to stop spreading a false situation since they need to put their attention on real situations."
"So Kevin are you hiring by chance"
.....
It's been 10 odd years since then. Me and Terrence got married, we have a 3 year old, I'm now 4months pregnant with our second child and Terrence inherited the villain business.
I walk into Terry's interrogation room with our three year old in tow, unaware of the 13 year old boy in the room with him at the time.
Our three waddles in with me dressed in her adorable little penguin onsies, dawning her the nickname of penguin, or "pengin" as she calls it. Her name is Darcy.
"Babe there's a massive spider on our bed. All the employees are scared. Even the avid spider maniacs. And since nothing fazes you we've all mutually agreed to scarafice you to the spider"
"Kid- oh hi Hun, give me 10 I'll sort it"
"Yay love you?" I look over to the kid in the room
"Babe why have you kidnapped a 9 year old"
"Oi I'm 13"
"You look 9"
"Yeah he does actually- anyways kid you need to give up hope on them coming for you. For your own mental health at least"
Darcy runs over to her dad and Terry picks her up holding her in his arms as she hugs him in all her toddler strength
"Who what when where why now?" I ask.
"This is Tobias Richards,13 and son of Kyle from school. One that said he'd be the next big hero specifically. I kidnapped him about 2 weeks ago. He was at the main lair but we transferred him to the house cause fuck me emergency generators are expensive and I'm becoming a dad so killing a kid because I neglected him isn't going to look good for me and because apparently Kyle shares the same braincells your parents had"
"Language, Darcy's here and in that case he's out kid now"
"I pengin, no Darcy" Darcy perks up
"I'm sorry what? And what does your bitch ass wife's parents have to do with me and mine"
"Long story short, they publicly denied my existence after my father in law kidnapped me as revenge for my ex parents attacking my husband, then fiancé out of the blue since Terry is a carbon copy of his father. Too the point where we joke whether he's his mother's child or not- he his. His mother was the one that started the inside joke and language"
"I mean if you were fucking the villains son, I don't blame them"
"Omg my god I give up"
"Kiddo please don't swear around the child. Your not the one that has to correct the behaviour when she goes repeating it" my husband says
"They didn't know Terry was their villains son. And it wasn't for that. They used my kidnapping to deny my undeniable existence because I have no abilities. They said an i quote 'they child you see with us was a charity case. She had no abilities, inturn no use for us. We adopted her out to another family to have a life better suited to what she deserved' they didn't not do that but physically and mentally abuse the fuck out of me."
The child just looks horrified.
"But that's her parents. Mine are going to come I swear"
"Daddy I get cookie?" Our 3 year old asks.
"Sure penguin"
"He have cookie?" Darcy points to Tobias, while looking at Terrence.
"Sure if he wants one"
"I- I've never had a cookie before"
Terrence walks over getting his cookie jar from the desk. The Cookies he stole from me this morning.
"That's where my cookies went! Terrence Johnathan Blackmill"
"Yes my love" he sets Darcy on his spinning chair, handing both her and Toby a cookie, then hands me the jar.
"You stole my cravings" I look up at him, he's smirking.
"Sir?"
"Yeah" Terrence looks over to the kid.
"Maybe you're right - is, Is the offer still open. Being your kid?"
"Welcome home son" Terrence says. Looking over to me. I slap his hand away from my jar of cookies.
"Hands off. My craving" I say
|
BabyBunnyOfDoom
|
Future_Money6744
|
2024-03-14 01:11:06
|
2024-03-13 20:14:13
| 23 | 16 |
kurotbw
|
kuq9pto
|
1bdjyyu
|
1bdjyyu
|
[WP] "So, you want to apply to be a hero?" "Yup" "You saved your world?" "Yep" "But you didnt get the girl?" "She said no" "Couldnt you have, I dont know, tried harder?" "Dude...She said no"
|
**Took a bit of a detour from the hero agency part, but here we go. Feedback is welcomed, and I hope you enjoy.**
**\~ \~ \~**
**\[??? - The Yellow Jacket\]**
"So, how'd it go?" The Jacket's friend asked, watching him return to his seat at the bar.
"She said no."
"What?"
"She said *no.*"
"What do you mean she said no? You're a superhero!"
"More of a super bounty-hunter, and I *mean* she said *no.* She wasn't interested."
"Dude, you should've tried harder, she's obviously playing hard to get."
"Two problems with that." The Jacket took a sip of their drink, "One, that was the most solid no I've heard in my life. Two, and more importantly, anyone who expects you to keep pursuing them after a no has got to be a masochist of some kind."
"That's d-"
"Yeah, no you're right, that's disrespectful... TO THE MASOCHIST! At least those nutcases give a rat's ass about consent."
"Y-"
"Dude... I cannot stress this enough. She... Said... No... Even if you're somehow right on this one, which you shouldn't be, all that'd mean is that she's an ass I don't wanna tap."
"...well alright then," the friend got up, "if you don't want to try, I will."
"Yeah, good luck with that," the Jacket quipped, knowing full well this'd only end in disaster.
|
"She said no."
I locked eyes with my friend, frowning. "What, did you want me to keep going after her? I will not force that woman to love me. I will not be that kind of husband, nor that kind of king."
"Hey." Gareth put up his hands. "It's only a suggestion, Your Grace."
I rolled my eyes and turned back to the map carefully laid out upon my War Table, tracing the red line of our burgeoning invasion plan. Infantry would strike north through the marshlands, with longbows striking ahead. The navy had already stormed the island of Argon, and encircled our enemies to the north, and--
I recited the battle plans to myself over and over; after a while, I looked over my shoulder and saw that my friend had left. *Oh.* People were doing that a lot to me lately -- disappearing when my back had turned. Plotting my downfall.
Ever since I'd taken back my kingdom, the old advisors that had served the Dark King were always at my throat. And yes, I knew that they had sworn oaths of fealty, but had they not done the same for my father?
My father, to my sorrow, had died with a knife buried in his back. The cowards hadn't even had the courage to look him in the face.
Such as it was, I hadn't gotten a decent night's rest since my coronation. All I did is plan and plan, and hope that taking more land and riches for my people would turn them away from the side of the dead king's and towards mine. Yes, all I needed to do is seige this city, so that the Yaltha won't--
A noise.
I jumped, staring at the dark pit of the open door.
"Who's there?"
Silence.
I drew my sword. "Show yourself!"
A small, slender figure moved into the light, raising her hands in surrender. "Put that down," the princess snapped.
I sheathed my steel, feeling chastened. "Flora," I said, pasting on a smile. "You're up late. Are you walking again?"
"I have nothing else to do, being trapped here." She shivered, rubbing her hands over the long sleeves of her gown. "It's freezing in here. You should have the servants light some fires. My father used to keep a dozen burning all day long, and I never--"
I ground my teeth. I didn't want to hear her talk about the Dark Lord; that was over and done with. She should have forgotten.
Someday, she'll forget. She'll see what a monster her father was. I'd tried -- I'd really tried to show her all of the atrocities he had committed, but all she'd ever known was the kind, loving father that had showered her with gifts.
She was spoiled, taking what she had for granted, but--
But I still loved her. I'd loved her from the first time that I'd seen her striding through Court, drawing in every eye in the room. The hem of her ground had practically seemed to float; she *glowed* with light, as radiant in the torchlight as in the heat of day. She'd caught my eye. She'd smiled.
I'd known from that day forward that she would be my wife. I'd conquered a kingdom for her, expecting tears of gratitude after slaying her evil father. But instead, all I'd gotten was tears of a different sort. And complaining. Gods, the *complaining.*
As I'd said to my friend, I'd never force her to do anything. I was a good man, and a good king; it would be against my conscience to do so.
But sometimes, on nights like this, she tested me.
"I'll have the servants light the fire in your room," I said, hoping that would pacify her. "You can stay in there for the night."
"Thank you, *my lord*," she sneered. She tossed back a curl of jet-black hair. "Thank you for allowing me to light a fire in my own palace. Thank you for murdering *my father*, and for making me bow and scrape to you, my King." She spat on the ground between us.
I only sighed, and gestured for the guards to take her back to her room. Give it a few years, my advisors said. She would come around in time.
I hoped they were right, for her sake.
|
YellowSkar
|
musicalharmonica
|
2024-05-12 15:15:07
|
2024-05-12 14:14:28
| 45 | 20 |
l3px5vh
|
l3pnynj
|
1cpxl1q
|
1cpxl1q
|
[WP] You died and were sent to hell, but instead of getting escorted down to a specific level of hell, you're escorted straight to the Devil himself who looks mildly horrified while holding the file of your life in his hands.
|
"Alright, alright, alright, alright. Okay, okay--Okay! I'm calm," the Devil repeated anxiously. He knew this day would come. "You sure it's him?"
"Undoubtedly, Your Majesty. Cerberus was provided with his scent seven millennia ago and intake agents receive weekly intelligence updates to ensure they'd recognize him in the event of his arrival."
"But why now? It's been seven millennia. Why did he come to hell this time. Wasn't it arranged for him to never appear here in person?"
"Honestly . . . we're not sure. By all accounts, he should have been living the best life. He's a star athlete, he's highly intelligent, devilishly handsome, mischievous and playful. He's generous and c-c-cari--He empathizes with others well. In fact, he just finished college this go around. We honestly don't know why he was sent here."
"Well, tell him there's been a mistake and that we're sending him to the other place."
"Actually . . . we can't," the Devil's advisor admitted.
"What? Why not? Just deny his soul pass. With a soul visa, he can't enter," the Devil pointed out. "Right?"
"That's just it, Your Majesty, we don't know how he got in. He didn't come via the River of Souls."
"He didn't arrive as a soul?"
"He paid Charon to ferry him across. He entered like how the demi-gods used to enter when they'd come to make a request. Pursuant to the accords we have with the other side, we have to receive Him as we would with anyone else from the other side."
"You don't mean," the Devil gasped.
"That's right, Your Majesty, He has ambassadorial status and worse, we have no other choice than to bring him directly to you."
"Eep!" The Devil squealed in a panic. "I mean, really?" The steward averted his gaze so he could claim he didn't witness the embarrassing spectacle of the King of Hell squealing like a pigtailed little girl.
"Yes, really. In fact, He's waiting right outside your thrown room."
"Ah crap. Do I really have to see Him?"
"You do."
"Fine but give me a moment to prepare myself." The Devil hurried over to a mirror and began taking different hideous forms till he finally settled on that of a Lich Lord. He even tailored the color of his evil aura to appear as black and dark green. It was for the contrast.
Once he was done, he hurriedly scampered over to his throne of bones and wailing souls, opened the Pit of Torment to create ambience, then finally took his seat and gave the command for his steward to let the boy in.
Two large demons opened the giant double doors revealing the hellish scene sculpted into their surface. Two smaller demons carrying tridents cloaked in a heavy miasma led young man in his early twenties into the giant thrown room.
The boy was dressed in dark black suit with a bright red dress shirt and sporting a matching bright red tie. The Devil saw this and couldn't help thinking how at home the boy looked in the surroundings. In his hand was a black briefcase.
"Welcome Boy, to my glorious thrown room," the Devil greeted, letting his voice boom majestically. "Why has a mere mortal deigned to visit my palace at this time?"
"Cut the crap, Dad. Mom already told me the truth. She was an angel that you seduced, impregnated, and left. She lost her wings over it. You know why I'm here."
"To de-throne me?" The Devil questioned. He really didn't know why he was there."
"No."
"No interest in ruling Hell at all?"
"No."
"You don't take after your old man at all." The Devil shrugged off his demon visage and quickly transformed into the handsome goateed man with the widow's peak that the boy's mother was seduced by. "How can you not be interested in ruling Hell? You know why we call this the Thrown Room?"
"Because it has a throne?" The boy reasoned.
"No! Not throne as in a chair the King sits in. Thrown as in a stone is thrown. The past tense of throw. This is the thrown room. It's where we throw souls unfortunate enough to appear here into the fiery pit."
"Your point?" The boy asked.
"You're an unfortunate soul that has appeared before me," the Devil told him with a menacing smile.
"Save those who are just a soul," the boy chided. "I'm not dead, and I have ambassadorial status. Say it with me, Old Man. I. Have. Diplomatic . . ."
"Immunity," the Devil sighed. "Wait, how did you manage to arrange that? You're not a agent of the other place. By what means were you able to secure a diplomatic status? You've already said it, you're not dead."
"Mother let me in," he replied smugly.
"Let you in? Let you in how?"
"I'm sure you've been keeping tabs on me?" The boy asked.
"Of course. For seven millennia I've monitored you, but every time you die, you always went to Heaven. After every reincarnation, you always lived up to your mother's expectations. You always followed in her footsteps. How in this Hell were you able to convince her to let you visit me?"
"I'm a recent college graduate," the boy replied as he removed a file from his briefcase. He passed this to the steward who passed it on to the Devil. The devil peered down at the documents and visibly paled. In fact, he was moderately horrified."
"This . . . No. You . . ."
"You wondered why I never followed in your footsteps? I did Father. I just needed time to figure out how to screw you over the way you screwed Mom, figuratively of course. The other six millennia you mentioned, there wasn't a mechanism in place that'd let me properly punish you, but this millennia, the world has experienced a growth like no other century before. You know what this century brought us that all of the other centuries combined didn't?"
"You're a lawyer," the Devil accused, proud and frightened all at the same time."
"That's right Daddy dearest. I'm a lawyer. I graduated with a law degree. And the first order of business I've decided to focus on was suing you on behalf of my mother for . . ." The boy savored the moment.
"For what?" The steward asked anxiously while hurriedly snatching the file back from the Devil for him to review.
"For back child support going back seven millennia," the Devil revealed.
"You've been served Father. I look forward to seeing you in court," and with that the boy departed.
"So fucking evil," the steward declared venomously.
"Yeah," the Devil replied. "I'm so proud of him."
|
'I am about to meet Lucifer. Satan. The Devil.'
Those words resounded in my head as I was led down the hotel hallway dressed in my birthday - and deathday - suit. The only thing I had on me was the belt still hanging around my neck.
Two guards flanked me on either side, humanoid creatures dressed in suits and carrying diamond-studded whips. I'd stolen a glance at them earlier and was met with the sight of goat heads. They'd snorted smoke from their noses, an unspoken warning to keep my eyes to myself or risk losing them.
We arrived at a door marked '666'. One of the guards knocked. Despite the blistering hot air, chills ran over me. My heart pounded like it threatened to leap out of my chest.
'I am about to meet Lucifer. Satan. The Devil.'
"Come in," a gruff voice called from inside the room.
The door swung open. I closed my eyes, shaking feverishly. 'I am about to meet Lucifer. Satan. The-'
I fell onto the room's carpet, shoved by one of the guards. They roughly hoisted me up as my eyes opened and saw...
...the most ordinary-looking man I had ever seen, seated behind a desk.
It's hard to describe him. He just looked like... a person. Someone you would pay no notice to if you passed them on the street, or saw them working at an office.
He stared at me with wide eyes. I stared back.
A few seconds later, I blurted out, "That's it?"
"What-" He cleared his throat, dropping the file he'd been holding. "What do you mean by that?"
"I just thought you'll be more..." I glanced over him, grimacing, "...impressive."
"Impressive?" He slammed his hands on his desk, standing up. "Would you rather I looked like this?"
He transformed into the most terrifying beast... no, beasts can only wish to look that scary. Compared to him, the goat-headed guards look like cute puppies.
My heart began pounding again. Tingles ran across my body as it grew warmer. My vocal cords tied themselves. 'Yes, I am truly in the presence of Lucifer. Satan. The Devil!'
I couldn't contain my excitement any longer.
The beast glanced down between my legs. It disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a disgusted man. "Eww!"
I followed his train of sight, then grinned sheepishly. "Oh... I guess that still works."
With a snap of his fingers, the devil had me in a robe. Fitting attire for the bedroom we were in...
He picked up the file he'd dropped earlier, his expression still disgusted. "Your file doesn't do you justice; you are truly one of the most depraved individuals I've had come in here."
"Worse than Hitler?" I asked.
"I haven't decided on that."
"I didn't commit mass genocide during my lifetime. I never even got so much as a ticket."
"Let's see what you did then, shall we? Asides from your... sex life." Shuddering, the devil opened my file and cleared his throat. "It says here that you waited until you turned 66, then you went to church for 666 days wearing a cross upside down and praying that you end up down here."
"I would have waited till I turned 666, but that wasn't an option. And it wasn't exactly praying-"
"Oh, I know. You called the big guy a pussy and threatened to, and I quote, 'take the biggest dump on your throne if you ever let me see the pearly gates'".
I snickered.
The devil's eyes flashed to mine, darkening to black holes. 'You think this is funny? Do you have any idea where you are?"
I nodded.
"And you know what I am?"
I nodded.
"And you know what's going to happen to you?"
I looked at the bed, the guards' whips, then back at him. "I can hazard a guess." With shaky hands, I began taking off my robe.
"What - Jesus!" His eyes faded to boring normal as his look of disgust returned. "Guards, get them out of my sight!"
|
Koyoteelaughter
|
JohnStoneTypes
|
2023-01-16 16:34:05
|
2023-01-16 06:39:42
| 112 | 82 |
j4loiel
|
j4k1gtb
|
10d2vy0
|
10d2vy0
|
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