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[WP] You have lost count of how many time travelers have come to kill you. You don't know why they came and at this point you don't care. You will become what they fear simply out of spite.
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I looked down at the dead man’s body as I held his identity paper in my hand. I can’t remember how many times this has happened, a stranger apparently from the future has somehow travelled back in time with the specific aim of killing me.
I was done. This was the final straw. One of them killed my mother by mistake when I was a boy and the media tried to blame my poor father. Another came for me when I was in high school, and another after I joined the military. More and more come each year. Fortunately I’m still alive and serving thanks to the skills they taught me in the army.
Sometimes more than one of these people come in a year and I have to kill them. I have killed women as well as men as they’re ranks contain both. It’s me or them and apparently there is no shortage of them in the future.
I didn’t ask for this, but I hoped I could do something about it. My poor old ma, dead before she was 50 because some asshole has a time machine. Why?
I glared down at the futuristic identification card through tears. I missed her. I missed her so much. “These bastards won’t get away with this.” I swore to myself.
As I read the ID I went through all of the details for any information I could use. Name, age, weight, height, nothing ever really helped aside from two of the categories.
The first was the birth date. This was how I discovered they were time travelers. Every single one of these monsters was born after 2350. I assume that’s the year when time travel was invented.
The second category was religion. They all had the same religion which was weird to me at first, but I think now it’s a clue. Knowing this about them gives me an edge. Because it’s a religion that I know because it is in my time too. They have to be descended from people in my time, they just have to be. Perhaps I can save myself, or a version of myself, this utter torment of a life that I have had, being mercilessly hunted by these monsters from the future.
If they want to come for me, let them come. For the rest of my life I expect these monsters to hunt for me, my only chance is to fight back, to reclaim some of my life if it’s the last thing I do. I want revenge. I want them to burn. But I can’t get to them. I can’t travel through time and I don’t know where or how they are organized and how strong they are. It’s one against who knows how many?
I folded the ID card in half and threw it on the deceased man, spitting on him for good measure. I don’t have to go to them.
“You’re ancestors are here somewhere and I’m going to find them.” I said to the dead body. “I’m going to find them and I’m going to kill them because of you.”
Because of all of you, I thought as I turned to walk away.
I stepped out of the alley into the sunlight and held my hand up to shelter my eyes from the glare. My mind was set. I had a plan. I was going to get my revenge for the people who had ruined my life, murdered my mother and stalked my nightmares. They will pay for their crimes, and if not them, then their ancestors. I don’t care anymore. I want payback.
A friend of mine called to me from across the square, noticing I had been missing for a while. As I jogged back to the group another friend spoke.
“What did that guy want Adolf?”
“I don’t know.” I replied.
|
I was innocent once. Naïve, really, but isn’t naïveté born from innocence?
Well, no matter. It wasn’t a familiar feeling anymore.
My home was the valley forest where I’d first opened my eyes under a starry sky and a full moon. I waited in one of my caves, watching as the scouts darted through the trees. They were clumsy, these humans. Even the skilled beckoned me like a fire, obviously foreign to my home.
Tree branches waved to me, crying *they’re here, here!* Silent owls hooted and announced interlopers. Insects scurried from beneath boots, and their human tread vibrated in my belly, as if they stepped on my skin.
Endless. Kill three and thirty more replaced them, but it was the work I was given, so I slid from my cavern and entered the forest.
The scouts didn’t tremble noticeably, although a gulp or two betrayed a dry mouth. These were men, not boys. I wondered if they were knights.
The next part I didn’t like.
A blue eyed man had made it the closest to my cavern, bow drawn, eyes shrewd. Middle aged, with ranks on his shoulders. His callouses felt thick against the inside of my cheeks before his hands went limp.
The next one was bald and short, with large black eyes that matched his skin. He managed to let out a cry before the scarred flesh of his throat pealed against my tongue.
That caused a stirring in the forest. I ran like a shadow through the woods, *this way, this way* the birds above indicated, *here* called a rabbit thumping against the forest floor at the point where the knights converged.
“Monster,” some of the men cried, and I let the anger build in my chest. “The monster is coming.”
*Monster?* **Monster?**
I barreled through the tree line and into the group of a dozen trained men. Metallic clangs bruised me but didn’t break through my hide as I tore into them. Eyes swam in my vision. That was the worst part, I had to carry the image of each kill with me. They came to me at night and stood vigil, plaguing my dreams. The innocent activity of sleep was spoiled.
*You!* I screamed as I tore into them, giant claws shredding their armor like butter. It was amazing how good the outlet of anger felt. I spilled pain and sleepless nights and fear into that clearing, wielding it with vengeance.
Ruined. I was ruined.
Finally, there was no movement left in the meadow. My body was slick with blood, the meadow was red and silver. I turned away, nausea flipping my stomach. I disappeared through the trees, letting the carnivores of my forest enjoy what they could. With each step away from my misdeeds I shrank, letting my body reflect my earliest years.
The trees towered over me, and I remembered the wide eyed joy I’d looked up with my first day alive. A canopy of home.
I couldn’t enjoy the distant friends that had watched me throughout my life. I felt small, exposed. They watched me with malicious judgement now. I wasn’t their child any longer.
I bounded through the tall grass to the spring at the heart of my forest, crying as the water turned red around me. The bottom of the spring cleansed my scales and mouth, and I washed upon her shore small and tired.
Peace.
*Here, here* a voice called, and I looked up to see a young girl and her father standing above me. She had a basket in one arm and foraging dagger on her hip that she’d pulled free and pointed at me. Her father pushed her behind him. A bow was slung across his back.
I cried out in frustration. My forest rustled in the night as I towered over them. My reflection was in their wide eyes. I didn’t like what I saw. I shrank and turned, laying back down on the bank.
The girl circled around me, her father’s bow trained on my approximate heart. I ignored them. Then the girl dove into the spring. That made me raise my head. What was happening?
I watched as the girl struggled back and forth across the bottom of the spring, her father’s jaw tight and bow drawn. After a moment he cursed and jumped in after her.
What an odd time to swim.
That’s when I saw a little blue body. Her father grabbed her and pulled her out of the water. She was a little blonde cherub, blue. Dead.
They tried to administer aid, but it was useless. I bent my head forward and the father yanked his living daughter back, scrambling for his bow. I touched the child’s forehead, feeling power go out of me. She slowly began to blink.
The girl cried out in happiness, but their father screamed in rage, unable to see through his terror. A shaft bruised my shoulder and I growled. I lifted the toddler below me onto my back.
“No give her back!!” he cried, loosing another arrow. My claws rend the earth.
“Father, stop!” the girl cries. But he’s gone, I’ve dissolved him into red mist.
Now the girl shrieks. I bare my teeth at her, eyes on her dagger. She trembles, then retreats toward town. I let her go. The toddler is oblivious, magicked to sleep on my back. I take her. She is mine, and now when death calls, maybe I’ll have something to hold me back.
My head lifts.
*Here! Here!*
There are soldiers in the forest again.
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MilkmanBlazer
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littlepillowcase
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2023-07-13 15:51:40
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2023-07-13 15:40:37
| 94 | 40 |
jrtekkq
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jrtcy9x
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14ykuqu
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14ykuqu
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[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."
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“Three souls?” inquired the black-cloaked spirit, "This troubles me."
The manager shrugged apologetically, "I know, inflation has affected all of us, but I'm afraid I must insist it is three souls nonetheless."
"Very well," came the raspy voice. "The first I summon is Johannes Vinsburg, a sheep trader who betrayed his family. He opened the gates to the invading forces of Saladin in exchange for a promise of protection and a sack full of silver. That promise did not save him from the knives of his own family when they found out."
From the cracked leather billfold, a wisping mote of light shot out, hissing through the air and past the ears of the manager before landing in the till with a bubbling gurgle. The till rattled and shook but then stabilized.
"The second," the specter said, "is Julianne of the Black Lake. Once the fairest beauty in the entire kingdom, her soul turned to wickedness and murderous intent when she found that her brother had not been lost as thought but had instead transformed into the shape of a beast. His return meant her loss of inheritance and power, so she stole into his room in the night with a vial of poison, tipping it between her brother's lips as he slept. She lived for many decades more, but the people could ken the truth, and she was chased from her lands, living as a witch isolated in the dark forest. Eventually the villages could take no more of her foul deeds, so they burned her cottage to the ground with her still in it."
The second mote of light shot out, this one more green-tinged, and it seemed to be making a shriek far louder than the first before landing in the till.
"And the third and final of these I give to you," the soul of the man known only as Clae, or the Butcher of Kier. This warlord once rode at the head of a mighty army of bandits, stealing from all and murdering those who dared even think to give him anything but what he believed he was due. The blood of thousands stained his sword and his heart, and he was only halted by a courageous bowman within the village of Montris, during what would become the last of his army's attempts to conquer and subjugate the countryside."
The last mote, this one blood-red, shot out. It had a bass rumble that rattled the windows, and it moved slower than the others, almost lazily orbiting around the manager's head and causing his vision to blur as he grimaced. Eventually, it settled down into the till, rattling the entire counter before finally stilling.
Then the till gave a weak little *beep,* and the manager said, "Very well, thank you. Here's your..." He looked down at the bag, "...gallon of milk, half a dozen eggs, and a Snickers bar."
The specter reached out to grasp the paper sack, and one of the handles tore.
"Oh, sorry about that," said the manager apologetically.
Extending a bony, skeletal hand forward, wrapped with wisps of pure time and entropic energy, the ghost spoke.
"I know all and see all. I have witnessed the dawn of man upon this pitiful plane and will be here when the last of you exhales your breath and succumbs to the great nothingness beyond. In this, the whole of my knowledge and the breadth of my understanding, I possess knowledge of all things past, present, and future. I know that you were not responsible for this poor manufacturing, but rather the greed of the supplier of these bags and that if your own leaders in purchasing a low-quality bag. For their thirst for wealth, there shall be fires, screaming, and anguish when their souls seek to escape to the grand nothingness, but are instead punished for their transgressions. But not you, Mortimer Blithely, Manager, esteemed Manager, and child of Liverpool."
The manager nodded, saying, "Yeah, yep, that's right, all right. Well, thank you for coming, Mr.-"
The specter moaned again, rasping out, "I am neither man nor woman, beast nor flesh. I am the shape of the darkness behind that which you dare not look. I am the coming of the end, the wail of the child, the weeping and gnashing of the damned. I am inevitable. For those foolish enough to seek out my name in hopes of my power or my mercy, I am called Frosticarious, Keeper of the Long Doom and Light of the Cursed Star."
"Oh, well, okay, thank you, Mr. Frosticarious. Thank you for your patronage, and we hope you'll come in and get groceries with us again,"
The ghostly specter nodded solemnly, its empty hood blown by an invisible wind, and small particles of grain and grit billowed around it.
"This I shall do, Mortimer of Liverpool, and be marked that I shall be inclined to render judgment on your masters sooner than late should they continue to follow the path of greed over goodwill."
"Yep, I will pass that feedback along. Thank you, sir, again, and you have a good evening." Without another word, the specter floated to the automatic doors, pausing a moment as the doors did not recognize the icy specter floating patiently over the sensor pads.
The associate who had initially been at the checkout crept over and surreptitiously put a foot on the pad, and the door slid open. The specter turned to them and with a billowing gasp of smoke and ash, said, "My thanks for your service, Julian of Liverpool. There will be a small mercy for you before the end, for your end is sooner than you think."
"Wait, *what?"* Julian sputtered as the spirit floated out of the store.
The manager patted them on the back. "Oh, I know, I wouldn't worry about that. He does that to everybody. My guess is his sense of when something dies is all skewed, and since humans all appear very short-lived, he said that to me a couple of times, and that was probably 20 years ago."
Julian sighed, some worry leaving them but still eyed the departing ghost anxiously as it crossed the parking lot.
"So, if you don't let me say Mr. Mortimer, sir: What the *hell* was *that?"*
"Haven't a clue, my lad. Haven't the foggiest clue."
---
Enjoy this tale? Check out r/DarkPrinceLibrary for more stories like it!
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“Three souls. An entire three souls for a loaf of bread? Is this Earth or am I still in hell?” Gatial the Tongue chomper gasped, squashing the loaf of bread in his hands. The mighty grip threatening to break the plastic bag. While the raw display of power might have frightened most. Manager Alex had worked the night shifts at this place. So, he had already encountered horrors far stranger than what hell brought about.
“Times have changed, inflation and all that. Haven’t you heard? You should have been informed. I thought everyone got a letter about the changes?” Alex said, trying his best to help the customer. Partly because he didn’t need another demonic curse and too because if he didn’t, the line would never move.
“INFLATION? It’s a soul. How can a soul be worthless? This isn’t stupid human currency, its an eternal soul, one that used to buy me six loaves of bread.” The demon whined, slamming the squished bread against the counter. The bag still held steady, even if broken bits of bread were trying to force their way from the top.
“You haven’t been to Earth recently, have you? The population’s gone up a lot in the last hundred years. A soul just isn’t worth as much, unfortunately. Why do you think demons only make deals with cults now? It’s because a deal with a single person isn’t worth their time. You really should read the letter they sent.”
“We can’t read the letters because they get burnt from the heat of hell.” Finally, the mighty bread burst. The hammer of a fist striking it, sending the bread flying in all directions, causing a glutenous mess.
“Ah, another one of the devil’s ‘jokes.’ I see.” Of course, the devil made the letters burn up. The devil loved messing with the residents of hell. Any frustration he caused them brought him a significant amount of pleasure.
“You sure know a lot about hell for a human.” Gatial said, raising an eyebrow, trying to get a read on the man that stood before him.
“Maybe I enjoy reading holy scriptures?” Alex smirked, scooping up as much of the bread as he could, pushing it into the bag. With the bread back inside, he placed the paper bread clip back on. “Now, would you like to pay in cash or souls?”
“No, I need to know. Why do you know of us? Why do you not fear us?” Gatial snarled, that human disguise breaking. Revealing the bloodied face of the demon for a split moment. Holes littered the flesh on his face, making it possible to see through to the other side. While Gatial thought this would frighten the human. Alex only used it as an opportunity to watch his employee Max brush the floors.
“If you must know, I suppose I can tell you.” Alex sighed. “I made a deal with a demon, offering my soul in exchange for the power to work as a manager in any store I choose.” When Alex explained his deal, the demon laughed, leaning over the counter in a fit. Alex moved the bread back as he laughed, keeping him from crushing it.
“How stupid are you? You could have women? A fancy house? A job as a CEO and you choose this? Humans are always so foolish.” Gatial continued to laugh, while Alex only waited patiently for him to stop.
“Sure, all of those things are fine, but they all come with challenges of their own. Handling multiple partners would only lead to the misery of everyone involved. A fancy house has expensive costs to maintain, and CEOs have a lot of boots to lick. Even the top dog needs to kneel for the right master. You know where a person doesn’t have to kneel? Where the lions roam free?”
“The jungles?” The demon said, perplexed.
“And I’m the fool here? No, the manager position is where one holds the most power. You rule over people that don’t know any better. People that are so scared to mess up that they will bow before you. That’s power. Take Max, for example. Lovely guy, it’s his first job, and he tries oh so hard. Now watch this. Max?”
Max froze, turning to his manager. He looked at his broom, then at the floor. Had he made a mistake? Was the floor not satisfactory? Should he keep brushing? Is he brushing too hard? Is he not brushing hard enough? Those thoughts spiralled through his mind, making him tap the edges of his broom. Alex savored the fear, seeming to drown in it before speaking.
“Good job. Can you restock the back?” Alex gave him a thumbs up, watching the relief wash over Max.
“Sure, sir.” He rushed to the back, as obedient as ever. When the demon turned back, Alex grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him down so they were meeting eye to eye. Alex saw the hellfire in the back of Gatial’s eyes and he didn’t look away, causing the demon to flinch.
“Don’t…Ever….Laugh…At….Me.” He whispered. With that, Alex released his grip. The human clapping his hands together, returning to his usual customer service tone. “Now, we have other customers and since you’ve damaged the bread, I expect you to pay.”
“Pay? Three souls, it’s too much.”
“Inflation. It affects a lot of things. Wealth, housing and hearts.”
“Hearts?”
“Oh, no. That would be silly. Inflating a heart. That would cause it to pop, wouldn’t it?” Alex said. Gatial felt a throbbing in his chest, shaking as he saw Alex grinning. “In the mortal world, no one’s immortal. Not even those who crawled through the hellfire.”
“I’ll pay, I’ll pay.” Gatial shrieked, the souls appearing on his fingertips. The blue orbs floating towards Alex, invisible to the rest of the store.
“Great.” When the souls were exchanged, Alex spoke. “Would you like paper or plastic?” The demon took the paper bag, leaving Alex to ponder what he needed the bread for. Demons were strange creatures. Often when they came to Earth, they came to do things they enjoyed when they were alive. Maybe he enjoyed sandwiches or feeding ducks? Whatever the reason, Alex didn’t care for long.
“What was all that fuss about?” Mrs. Mathers asked. The older woman having poor eyesight, having to adjust her thick glasses when she looked at Alex.
“Oh, an unruly customer. Nothing too bad. Do you need some help gathering your groceries? I can have Max help you? If he’s too busy, I would be happy to help.”
“You’re the sweetest dear ever. Aren’t you? I could have sworn that man before was a monster. For a moment, he looked like something out of those old church paintings. A creature with those spiky horns.” She rested a hand on her head, imitating a horn.
“A demon?”
“That’s the one.”
“I wouldn’t call him a demon. He’s simply a man down on his luck. I don’t like throwing that word around. After all, people used to call my mom a demon.” He laughed.
“Cheeky boy. Don’t let her hear you saying that. She will give you a scolding of a lifetime.”
“She would do far worse than a scolding if she found out. Thankfully, she lives somewhere far away. A place nice and hot.”
“Sounds lovely. I would love to go someday.” She said, unpacking her groceries.
“It’s not a place for sweet ladies like you. I’ll tell you about it someday.” Alex started scanning the items, going back to his normal duties. “Seems you didn’t need our help at all. You’re an inspiration to us all.”
“Your sweet. I didn’t want to bother you, that’s all. You seem busy.”
“Never too busy for you.” When he finished packing her items, he took her money, finishing the transaction.
“I hope your mother enjoys her holiday.” She said, giving him a smile as she carried her groceries out. Mrs. Mathers enjoying her little visit with her favorite shopkeeper.
“I’m sure she’s finding it unbearable.” He said as he watched her leave.
(If you enjoyed this feel free to check out my subreddit /r/Sadnesslaughs where I'll be posting more of my writing.)
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darkPrince010
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sadnesslaughs
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2023-09-01 17:07:01
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2023-09-01 16:09:50
| 572 | 147 |
jyowx96
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jyoncwh
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1678ja3
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1678ja3
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[WP] "Elves aren't particularly...impressed with humanity as a whole. But they VERY much like our knights...no, you don't understand- okay, let me put it this way. You ever read an erotica written by an elf? There is ALWAYS a human knight getting f***** in it."
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"I have no idea what you are talking about..."
"Uh Huh." Quarto responded, "You know when I came to apprentice in the Elven Capital I was expecting a lot of things...this wasn't one of them."
Amina, the elf clerk he had come to befriend, continued filing while they chatted.
"Name more than ten, and I'll consider hearing your argum_"
Kassandra the Wanderer, The Five Kingdoms of the North, The Tale of the Dragon's Bride, The Saint The Bear and the Closet, The Condotierre."
The elf began to interject, but was cutoff.
"The March of the Twelve, Sir Augustine of Red-Hair, The Sorrow of the White Eagle, Maximus the Cursed."
"I'll have you know that!_"
"AND...Mikala's Guide to Thaumaturgy."
A silence reigned for a second, the elf calmly set their papers and utensils, to the side before continuing.
"That last one is not a novel."
"I am Aware." The unimpressed human responded, "It is a Text of Magical Theory and Study...and There Is A Section with a Human Knight being used as an example in I Quote, "Less Seemly Uses of Enchantment" on page 34."
The elf stared the human in the eyes for several seconds, calculating this conversation's future, before finally responding.
"Alright, but to be honest humans are in no place to talk."
The human eyes showed their thoughts on the odd response.
"Okay how so..?"
"Because." the elf responded matter of factly, "Your species wants to Fuck Everything."
The human appeared to have a response, but was cut off.
"Seriously, have you seen human literature, it's as if you want to Fuck Everything except other humans!" The elf began ranting, "Do you know, as an archivists, how many reports I have come across that can be summarized as, The Human Was Horny!"
"So is it so wrong for us to think that, The Human, wants to Fuck everything with a pulse in are examples..."
The human stared for a bit, before leaning forward, and asking in a hushed tone.
"Is that why I have been getting such odd interactions since coming here?"
The elf with exasperation answered.
"Yes, Sir Quarto, it is."
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The elf twitched her brow. Her human companion just flat out doesn't know what they're talking about.
"Rosey, pass that by me again." The elf rolled her eyes.
"Kiyab... How many times I got to say this?" Rosey rolled her eyes. "Elves aren't particularly...impressed with humanity as a whole. But they VERY much like our knights...no, you don't understand- okay, let me put it this way. You ever read an erotica written by an elf? There is ALWAYS a human knight getting fucked in it." Rosey threw one of the very VERY few elven books in front of Kiyab. "Like literally all of them. I've read every one of those elven books in your library and they always have a knight getting fucked. I know you collect books just to archive them, since its your job, but there is nothing... "
"First of all, my **personal** library is *completely* separate from my work library." Kiyab growled as she picked up the book. "The **ONLY** reason I have books from my job is because I also do book repairs. I get paid for each book I repair separately, sometimes I run out of tools at my job and I have to run home to get the right ones but sometimes I leave books behind on accident." She carefully examined the spin of the book. "You remind me of which ones I've accidentally left but that isn't really much. Out of the one thousand books here, I only had 3 from my job."
"Okay, and?" Rosey asked, feeling the need to back up. Kiyab carefully put the book in one of her shelves and the tensioned thickened.
"And you're just straight up **wrong**." Kiyab turned back to her. "I just have a lot of knight erotica because **I** want to be the knight getting laid! I used to be a knight about 600 years ago until I lost my leg and they didn't have good enough, non magical prosthetics back then!"
"600 years?" Rosey was in shock.
"Yeah, 600! Not that long before that, I got cursed and stripped of my magic and had my EARS CUT!" Kiyab stomped on the floor causing a crack in her leg. "I read a lot of that erotica to find comfort and joy knowing that people can look at a nonmagical hic with a sword and and still find them beautiful and hot in hopes that someone will feel that way with me! This has **nothing** to do with elves *only* viewing knights as interesting, its me just having that fantasy!" Kiyab began to tear up as the pain shot through her leg stump. "You wouldn't fucking understand because **YOU** are a racist bitch who can't even put two and two together and at least notice that I have a particular style of book I like!"
"I didn't-"
"Shut the fuck up!" Kiyab accidentally knocked a vase on to the floor, shattering it. She looked down and sighed. "Leave. This isn't the first time you ranted about racist things and I told you..." She bent down to start picking up the bigger pieces. "I told you, one more of this shit and I'll never want to see you again. I don't care if its about other humans, I don't care if the rants were about orcs or dwarves... Racism is racism, point blank period... this is why I keep getting at your throat... why I started hanging with you less and less... This is why so many of the others left you... but I..." Kiyab left the pain in her leg get worse but kept going. "I made the mistake of staying with you... And now you want to come out of nowhere to shit on elves over... over this shit?" The tear fell down her face. "Just *leave.*"
Rosey was quite and began to step away before she heard Kiyab's last words.
"I don't even want to know what's wrong with wanting to fuck a hot human knight anyway... but I guess its only problematic because I'm an elf..." She ripped off her prosthetic revealing a small pool of blood.
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GdogLucky9
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CameoShadowness
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2025-02-12 22:17:31
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2025-02-12 21:44:31
| 442 | 46 |
mcg38tj
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mcfw4rc
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1io0vc8
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1io0vc8
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[WP] "No-one has hated anything as intensely as I hated that man. And you killed him. Even though it wasn't your intention, even though you regret it, and even though you think I'm a monster already... I must thank you. In killing him, you did me a greater service than I can ever repay."
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I blasted a hole in the prison, entering the cell of an inmate.
Poor soul stared at me, shivering, huddled up in the corner.
I flew in, and waved my hand, the hole repairing itself, and with another wave of my hand, the alarms went silent.
"M-M-Mistress G-Gravity!", he stuttered, saying my villain name.
I sat down on his bed, and sighed.
"Thank you.", I said, after a while.
He just sobbed.
"No one has hated anything as intensely as I hated that man.
And you killed him, not intentionally, and you regret it, now seeing yourself being a monster...just how you see me...
Still...thank you.
Killing him, you did me a greater service than I can ever repay.", I said.
His eyes widened, and he frowned, smiled...as he cried.
"You here to torture me as well?!
I was a doctor! Saving lives 24/7!
1 mistake! 1 mistake of driving while tired, and I just had to hit a goddamn politician!", he broke down, crying even more.
I nodded.
"You are one of the few people in our society that still has a soul.
So tell me, how can i repay you?", I asked, smiling, trying to calm him down.
He tried to stop shivering, and looked at me.
"You...you erased entire cities...", he muttered.
"And stopped asteroids, and invasions...
Life isn't black and white.", I said.
"Y-Y-You will do whatever I ask for?", he asked.
"As I said, you did me an non repayable favor.
Freedom? The World? Me? Anything you want, I will give it to you.", I said.
He gulped.
Heh...men.
"I...I want you to stop being a villain...
Don't kill people...and save lives...", he muttered weakly, not even daring to look at me.
I stared at him...then laughed.
"God! You sure are cruel! One of the good ones is in prison, while every damned soul who hates everyone, themselves included is out there, enjoying freedom!
Very well, I shall retire, and stop my life of villainy, with the man you killed gone...I haven't got too many reasons to fight the system.", I smiled, grabbing his collar.
"W-what are you doing?", he asked.
"Repaying you, and saving a life.", I said, breaking him free from prison, and leaving this country.
Not only did he kill that man...but he is...genuinely a good soul.
Poor guy...I wonder how he survived to this day, but he doesn't have to worry anymore.
I will protect him from now on.
|
"What, who? Wait, aren't you that guy from the news?" The man is clad in a dark brown coat over corduroy pants and wears white gloves. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was on his way to a party in the 1970's.
"You don't remember killing him?"
"Buddy, I haven't killed anyone in my entire life? What do I look like?"
The man pulls a too-thin device out of his pocket. Any thinner and I'd worry it would blow away. Still, one side lights up and after a few movements of his finger across the screen, he turns the lit side towards me.
"This man. You do remember killing him, right?"
"Never seen him."
"Hmm..."
"Wait, let me see that again."
He hands the device over, and I finagle a better zoom out of the display. The man on the screen is tall. I can tell by how his head nearly brushes the top of the door frame. Long, dark hair touches his shoulders. I can't see his face well, but he has a memorable shirt. A cat sits comfortably curled inside a box. Who would walk around with such a ridiculous logo?
"Yeah, never seen him before. I'd remember someone that tall for sure. Tell me where I recognize you from. It's driving me crazy!"
"Perhaps, but first I must know that you were, indeed, this man's end." The man looks around himself nervously. Then comes in close and whispers menacingly in my ear, "If you are deceiving me, the next few moments may be your last."
"Whoa!" I try to back away, but he's placed one hand firmly on my shoulder. Strong? No! This guy is an immovable force. "Hey, let me go!"
"I'm afraid not." A car pulls behind me and stops on the curb. White paint and black windows with chrome trim. All I can think about are the things that couldn't be seen from the outside. I hear more than see as one door opens directly behind me. Then, just as suddenly, the man shoves me through the door.
Fump. My head bangs on the door frame as I pass through the space. It is painful and I see stars while I rock back and forth on the floor for a minute. By then, the man has entered the vehicle and we are pulling away from the curb.
Sitting up, I rub my head while I lean against the seat. "What' s going on?" I'm not very forceful while this guy has the upper hand. "You didn't have to use karate on me, or whatever that was. We were having a conversation."
"Not karate." The man takes off his coat. Underneath is a white dress shirt with the sleeves removed. Where I had expected arms, sit rods, mechanical pistons, and steel cable. He reaches out with a now gloveless hand. Instead of flesh and blood fingers, an assortment of tools extend. One of which touches my forehead. "This is my lie detection sensor. If you lie while it touches your head, I will know. Now, tell me again," he holds up the device, "did you kill this man?"
"No, I swear."
"Ugh. The truth." He leans all the way back in his chair and I have a moment to get into one as well. "Then how? Why?" He's got his eyes closed and he is clearly thinking hard about something.
"What's his name?"
"Not that it will do you any good, but his name was Ray."
"Yes?" The driver says.
"Come again?"
The car has come to a stop at an intersection. I look out and notice that the light is green for us but we aren't moving. Our driver turns, taking aviator shades off and looking at my abductor.
"You said my name." His head of long dark hair nearly touches the ceiling.
Slowly, the mechanical man across from me opens his eyes and turns to look. "You, you're dead!"
"Not quite." A shield of metal rises between the two of them, completely separating the cab.
I try the handle, to find out it is locked and will not open. Shaking the door does nothing, not even a budge when I put my full weight on it. "Hey, Ray was it? Would you let me out?"
A voice comes over the speaker system. "Negative, buddy. We're all going for a nice scenic drive. Oh, and Doc? Try not to have too much fun with the little decoy I left for you. I hope it reminds you of the good old days."
|
TheWanderingBook
|
Comfortable_Box_2430
|
2024-11-28 05:01:36
|
2024-11-28 03:55:30
| 36 | 19 |
lzd1vjn
|
lzct6em
|
1h1mh0b
|
1h1mh0b
|
[WP] The villain swore that they would return in 1000 years to take revenge on the hero's descendants. When they wake up, however, they see another villain has already won, and the hero's descendants desperately need help.
|
I AM FREE! A THOUSAND YEARS I HAVE WAITED FOR THIS MOMENT, AND NOW I DECLARE MY-
Heya.
WHO… WHAT ARE YOU?
It’s me, Karth. The hero? Sealed you away for the past millennium?
HOLY HARDUK, WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?
Uh, so yeah, I’m a skeleton now. Lot’s to catch you up on, but long story short, I need your help.
I AM THIS CLOSE TO REARRANGING YOUR LEFT ELBOW AND RIGHT KNEECAP. EXPLAIN.
So after I sealed you, peace to the world, married Jezel, died of old age surrounded by my twenty-eight children…
TWENTY EIGHT? WITH THAT PRUDISH CLERIC?
Yeah, not the important part. Practically everyone in this kingdom’s my descendant now. Anyways, another bad dude appeared a few years back. Necromancer guy. Each casualty is added to his army.
AND I ASSUMED YOU ARE PART OF IT?
Was. Being the awesome badass I am, I was like ‘Hell no I’m not killing descendant #657122’ and snapped out of it. But all the other dead evils have been resurrected to join his horde…
ALL BUT ME.
Exactly. Aren’t you glad I sealed you instead of killing you? Glad enough for a favor?
I SEE WHERE YOU’RE GETTING AT. AND I REFUSE. THE SCREAMING OF YOUR SPAWN IS MUSIC TO MY EARS.
C’mon, I can’t do this alone. My holy sword can’t do nuts against their guns.
WHAT ARE GUNS?
Sort of like crossbows that go boom. And they’ve got Gormak the Mountain and mounted cannons on him. What if I grovel and admit you win?
FORGET THAT. I WILL JOIN YOU AND YOUR PUNY BABIES. BUT I GET TO KEEP THESE… GUNS.
Deal. Oh yeah, watch out for the orbital lasers.
THE WHAT?
|
One thousand years. That's how long the curse lasted. For one thousand years, his skin would burn at the touch of sunlight. That's what the gypsy had said, when they'd sealed him away. But no! Even the damned moonlight burned him! Even the most overcast of nights, the damned starlight had somehow been enough to entrap him.
The band of warriors had fought; he'd admired them for that. It had taken decades for the May-tree stake they'd stabbed through his knee to heal properly. He'd felled many of their greatest warriors in his quest to rule over his people; they might have called him all sorts of things.... undead.. revenant.. mullo... but they would kneel at his feet.
But not that damned whisperer. And his curse! Quidico had sworn that he would have his revenge on the whole bloodline of the fool who cursed him, the moment he recovered. He'd even captured a young warrior... Vlad something or other... centuries before, and gifted him a fraction of his power... and unfortunately, a fraction of his curse... in exchange for hunting down the family and butchering the lot; believing that, perhaps, wiping out the family would end the curse early.
But... no. Quidico had been trapped. Forced to watch from the darkness, never escaping the site of that final battle, all these years... until today. He slowly reached out his arm. Yesterday, he'd tested it. His skin had burned in terrible pain, he'd had to pull back immediately.
But now.... for the first time in a thousand years, he felt the warmth of the morning sun on his flesh... he gave out a cry of joy, and looked about himself. His sword... no, he'd given that to Vlad. No matter. He'd find a new one, soon enough.
He leapt from the darkness and into the light, taking a deep breath as he took to the sky. He'd grown stronger over these long years. He would finally rule over his people... but first... he took a deep breath. The scent of the blood of Eladon. He caught it in the air, miles away. He would find them... and he would feast.
He dropped back to the ground, and began sprinting towards the scent... he could see strange men, bearing strange symbols on their uniforms. Some invading army had conquered his people? He would deal with them, soon enough.
There. A place that stank of death, fear, and horror. More of the grey-suited men with their strange symbols called out to him to stop. They pointed things at him. What were... At first, he wasn't concerned... until his chest blossomed with pain, terrible agony... and he leapt forward, tearing the guards at the gateway apart, his wounds healing even as he devoured their flesh, drank of their blood; and he could hear others screaming.
He spoke to one; but it didn't know a word of the tongue. Not a whisper. It spoke something brutal, bitter. He removed the useless creature's tongue before moving on, seeking out the gypsy's children.
He slowed down. Stopped. Men and women adorned with yellow stars of fabric. Ruined rags. Skeletons, emaciated, in terrible condition. Worse than anything he'd ever subjected his most vile of enemies to. He'd seen that symbol before, over a thousand years ago, but could barely recall if it had a meaning.
|
hatabou_is_a_jojo
|
KPraxius
|
2024-10-26 05:56:20
|
2024-10-26 04:19:04
| 74 | 30 |
ltt60sc
|
ltsuhq8
|
1gcaxfq
|
1gcaxfq
|
[WP] The apocalypse didn't end in zombies, a virus or nuclear war. Everything just ended when nature quietly decided to take everything all back at once.
|
It was all we could have ever hoped for, but we could not claim the breakthrough as our own. "The plant that grew through the ice", that is what the headlines read. However, the truth being much more impressive, not just ice but straight out of the artic; in the part where no life lives. It was a warning, but us being the arrogant bioengieers we were, we saw only dollar signs.
With a few tricks that little green shrub was the answer to world hunger. Shelf stable fresh vegetables that keep indefinitely. We found that The shrub, or Ironflower, had a genetic anomaly allowing for unnatural longevity. After we put our best minds to the task of integrating the gene into our vegetation, that we started to see the consequences.
The carrots, the peas, the corn, the lettuce everything took to it well, too well. We don't know the first plant to escape controlled containment but whatever it was started the chain reaction that sent the humans back 1000 years. They never die! And not only that, every plant with the longevity gene out competes every other organism in its environment.
Our forrests are apple trees, exclusively, towering higher than Redwoods did when they existed. Our fields are no longer grass but peas, like weeds, but there are no weeds. Corn strangles our buildings and breaks our concrete. Potatoes are tumors subsisting off our soil.
Almost sounds like a good trade off, civilization for endless food, but no. The plants are too many, the atmosphere is changing. The tsunamis came first, and then the frost. Our deserts are lush and slush, and the air is barely breathable. There is no shelter, the plants grow in the night and anyone caught in the same place for too long will wake up in a web of vines.
I hide now, in the underground, our greatest minds and proactive survivalist constructed our bunker, the last stand for human existence. I am pessimistic, the thorns knock on the metal doors, and we dare never open them.
Our colony, 500 dwindling fast-- sick and slow-- all survive off a handful of the "miracle" plants, but their fast growing fruits although keep us alive, shows the terrible power of our enemy. But this is undoubtedly the end.
My kids will never see a bird, nor the ocean which will dry up soon enough, drank to death, and my grandchildren will never exist. I fear I'm going mad or the walls are actually crushing inward.
There is no light anymore, and there is no hope. We could be 1000 meters in the air and never know it, sprouting off some flower, or we could be in the clutches of a Venus Flytrap, digested slow.
|
(Feel free to use this as context! Or make it your own)
It just appeared like a quiet flood. Fauna and animals everywhere suddenly like the world decided to fight back. People died of course if they tried to fight it back. Everything was suddenly lushly overgrown. Previously endangered animals and plants suddenly thrived. I'd found the beauty in all of it. I'd survived longer than most and so had a lot of people who knew what to forage and when. Even my city looked like a jungle of the Amazon. It had taken out the weak and strong alike. Only those with skills who knew how to suddenly became the most powerful people. Everything was just like a carpet. Cities were quickly abandoned due to the fact the buildings crumbled like paper as the decay and rot set in at an accelerated rate. They where death traps if you set foot in them.
Nature had basically said fuck you to being bullied for so long and taken it all back.
|
meat_puddles91
|
badpandaunicorns
|
2023-03-11 14:03:40
|
2023-03-11 03:09:50
| 47 | 18 |
jbszrgk
|
jbrff3r
|
11o8wuh
|
11o8wuh
|
[WP] You and your twin brother were adopted by different families. He ended up to becoming a supervillain, so every other day, while going about your business, you get beaten up by superheroes. It is time to put an end to this…
|
I'm sick of this. This last time it was a speedster who zoomed in out of nowhere and before I even knew he was there, he had started punching me and had caused almost lethal damage before he realised that he was attacking a normal human being instead of the super powered freak who was my twin.
The speedster, Zoomer Boy, got me to the hospital with his normal super speed and inflicted even more damage to my already severely injured body because he forgot that I am normal. "My bad" he said a week later after I was healed by a super named Saint. She at least was useful and didn't try to attack me on sight because she already knew that I wasn't my twin, the super villain. Her healing was the only thing that allowed me to walk out of the hospital under my own effort and not be wheeled out permanently in a wheelchair.
26 years ago two babies were born to a way too young mother and she gave them up to be adopted because she was just unable to look after two babies, or any babies, considering she was just 17 years old. She thought she was doing the best for us and I think she might have, if only a freak of meta-nature hadn't occurred and my twin younger brother ended up with powers.
He didn't manifest them until he turned 20 for some reason but whatever it was, it changed him.
I was adopted by a family who wanted another boy to balance out the three daughters while he was adopted by a couple who simply couldn't have kids at all. We weren't abused or left the orphanage or any of those story tropes, we just got adopted by different families.
And they knew about the other baby and kept in touch, so we knew we had a brother and had even met a few times a year growing up. All in all we were well balanced and happy kids growing up in loving families and did everything that kids did.
Until that week, when everything changed for him.
His powers broke out while he was asleep and he had a nightmare and he lashed out with his emerging powers and destroyed his home, his family and his state of mind.
He was never the same from that week in the hospital. Hell, he was in the mental ward under sedation as he tried to kill himself. I wasn't allowed to see him as any time he got upset, his powers would start to manifest and destroy his room.
So he was sent to a facility that could deal with his powers and they forgot that he also needed psychological help. So they taught him how to keep control of his powers but forgot to heal his mind and as soon as he got out, he went rogue.
He was hating on himself but he couldn't keep hurting himself because he would heal almost instantly and that just made him more depressed; so he went after people who he saw as happy families.
And that's where I came in. After they started to find evidence of his crimes and assaults, they spread his face around and the super "heroes" started looking for him and who did they find but me?
Same face, same build, same everything except no powers.
First one to spot me was an archer. Having an arrow go straight through your right lung hurts. She was aiming for my heart but I moved. That was 1 week in the hospital and my first encounter with Saint.
Next I think was just a typical super strength chad who walked up to me in a crowd and punched me and almost tore my arm off. Saint again had to be called to heal me.
And on and on. Almost every week I will be attacked by some super looking for my brother and they will hurt me and I will end up in the hospital where Saint heals me and apologises for everything the so called heroes do.
Hell you would think by now, six years later, that they would remember he has a twin who isn't a super but just a normie. But no, they get all excited at seeing the super villain and they attack and injure me and then suddenly remember that I exist.
If I had any powers this would be my story about why I became a super villain but I'm just a normal human who is regularly attacked by so called heroes who all forget that I exist.
FML.
===End===
|
This is getting ridiculous.
I am a baker, I love baking....why the hell do superheroes always instantly attack me on-sight?
Oh, yeah...
Because of my goddamn twin!
My adoptive parents told me about him, but I never desired to meet him, I was happy with my new family, and I...foolishly though, it would be weird, and I might mess up his and my lives as well...
But, since I saw him a few years ago on TV...that's not an issue anymore.
Why? Because he is a goddamn supervillain!
I managed to get ahold of him, and set up a meeting.
He indeed looked exactly like me...except that smirk, I hope I didn't smirk like that.
"Oh, so there is a normie that is related to me...how...interesting.", he said, sitting down.
"Well, hello there to you too.
Nice to meet you.", I said.
"Cut the crap.
What do you want?", he asked.
"Tell the heroes you have a twin...they keep beating me up.", I said.
He said nothing, but ordered a coffee, so I did the same.
After a sip of coffee, he sighed.
"Look, I don't really care about you, I get that we are twins and whatnot, cute, but irrelevant.
I am going to change this world.", he said.
"By destroying it?
You know what, I also don't care, just avoid my bakery, anyway...so you won't clarify with the heroes?", I asked.
He smirked.
"Nothing to clarify...bro.", he muttered.
"What now?", I asked.
And he...just ignored me.
After, and only after finishing his coffee, did he look at me.
"Well, despite being twins, and looking exactly the same...you have different power, yeah, I realized you aren't a normie.
So, those "heroes" of yours, don't beat you up because they think you are me, they beat you up because you look like me.", he said.
I sighed.
"I heard you were a top-tier supervillain...but does this mean...", I muttered.
"That they can't do shit to me?
Yep. I am on my way to fully establishing my organization, and afterwards...my attack on the current status-quo can truly begin.", he said.
I facepalmed.
"Just...just be sure you protect my bakery, otherwise your favorite croissant won't be made.", I said, smirking at him.
He froze, before laughing.
I left the coffee shop, thinking how annoying this is going to be, thankfully...the heroes...they can't really do a thing to me either...
|
Chaosrealm69
|
TheWanderingBook
|
2024-09-11 17:35:54
|
2024-09-11 14:12:41
| 171 | 67 |
lmmwzxb
|
lmlv2kc
|
1fe7x7f
|
1fe7x7f
|
[WP] When you died in that fire, you reincarnated in a fantasy world. All your pets also died in that same fire, and came with you to that world. However, they reincarnate as divine beasts from various myths and still view you as their owner.
|
*snap*
Sunshine. Glorious, radiant, sunshine. I awaken in a prairie in a body that is almost mine. My clothes are different, they’re leather and rough. I’m a bit taller, and a bit stronger, I can just tell. A sword pokes out of the dirt beside me. A sword.
I cough. Ash and smoke no longer fills my lungs. That’s all I can remember- the ash and smoke. Was I in a fire..?
Right… I was. I was in a fire at my house, in Fargo, North Dakota, The United States of America… why does this all feel like a blur?
I get up slowly, my bones ache for a reason I do not know of. I pick up the sword from the dirt. There’s a bit of resistance but I pull hard and it’s free. I’ve never used a sword, but it doesn’t feel wrong to hold it. It’s nicely balanced and feels good in my hands.
I walk a bit further, but I am stopped by a voice. I turn around and see a man standing behind me, with a smile.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” He asked.
“Yes, I’ve forgotten everything. Where is “Fargo?” That’s the only thing I remember.” I replied.
“Heheh. Interesting comment. Tell me, what is your name?”
“That is… a good question… I think it’s Jonathan? I remember people calling me John. That’s short for Jonathan, right?”
“Heh. It won’t matter. You can’t use that name here. Call yourself Crockett, it’ll fit you better.”
“I… okay? I’ll go by Crockett then.” I said this and the man vanished. I was confused but I didn’t know to ask questions, so I pressed onward.
At some time I found myself before a miraculous beast. A 3 headed dog was feasting in the field before me. I clutched my sword, ready to fight. The beast turned to me, ran toward me, baring it’s teeth, and then stopped before me, staring into my eyes.
I stopped and lowered my sword. A flash wrinkled through my brain. The ash. The smoke. There was a noise in the fire… a dog? My dog. He was there, he was with me. He tried to help me, he was there until the end.
I placed my hand on one of the three heads of the dog.
“Klondike?” I asked the beast. That is the last name I had known for it. The beast looked sheepishly into my eyes and laid on its stomach.
“Klondy!?” I exclaimed, a moment of clarity appeared upon me as I started to scratch the ears of the beast. It rolled onto its back and I scratched its stomach. It jumped back up onto its feet and walked over to its side.
Some friendships live on through lifetimes.
|
I woke up. "What is this place," I ask myself. "Is this heaven?" I hear a loud grumble in return. I look back to see a long, serpentine dragon staring at me. I run away, as fast as I can but the dragon chases me faster than I'd ever thought anything could run. As I ran, I got a good look at the dragon. it seemed distraught, as if it weren't used to its own body.
I realise something and stop. I turn back to see the dragon staring at me. but not trying to hurt me. I reach my hand out and the dragon nods it's head willingly as I stroke its nose. "Max?" the dragons body shakes from side to side, like a dog's tail. "Max, Is that you?" I ask, as if the dragon could reply.
I might continue this but it got boring to write pretty quick :/
|
fufucuddlypoops_
|
TheGodofDarkMatter
|
2023-03-10 21:18:55
|
2023-03-10 16:43:36
| 209 | 62 |
jbq4v9i
|
jboyduv
|
11nt46u
|
11nt46u
|
[WP] The power of a spell is inversely proportional to the amount of words in its name. You, hated and exiled, invented the first single word spell:
|
"You turned a commoner's word into a spell?" The blue-robed interrogator's hands shook as he pointed demeaningly at the stringy-haired mage's face.
"Yes."
"And you did so with full knowledge that the ambiguity of the language could give the spell an untold number of properties?"
"Maybe." The blue-robed interrogator's incessant questioning was starting to get on Tarson's nerves. He knew what he'd done, he'd understood what he'd done. He just didn't feel like he needed to elaborate.
He never saw the point of being verbose at all. That was probably why the other title-obsessed twits over in the Spellwriter Guild had mockingly (most of them, at least) called him "Tarson the Terse."
The blue-robed interrogator wrung his hands in annoyance, spittle flying off his lips into Tarson's stringy-haired stubble-dotted poker face. "What the hell do you mean, MAYBE?"
Tarson shrugged, despite the binds tying him making it hard for him to lift his arms. "Maybe. I didn't know what I was doing. I also knew the magic. And how it worked. So yes, MAYBE I knew what I was doing then. And MAYBE you could step back a little. Your spit's on my face." He wiped the spittle off by rubbing his face on his shirt, with some difficulty.
The blue-robed interrogator was seething now. "I get sent here to wring out information from you, and you're over here giving me this...this...facade of stone-facedness! Do you have any idea what chaos you've caused with your single-word spell? Do you? DO YOU, TARSON THE TERSE? Perhaps we should call you Tarson the Twit in the records."
Little did he know, the interrogator had created the perfect opening for Tarson.
"TARSON THE TWIT, DO YOU PLEAD GUILTY TO THIS OFFENSE, AND ACCEPT YOUR PUNISHMENT?" The interrogator wasn't paying attention to Tarson's smug grin. Good. "ANSWER ME! ANSWER ME AS YOUR SUP-"
"NAY." The powerful word, the one-word spell, the thing that had caused the upheaval of the Guild and brought the fundamental principle of magic to (almost) everyone, erupted in a forceful burst from Tarson. "Nay" could mean anything. It was most commonly used as an expression of denial, of rejection...
...in this case, "NAY" became a rejection of punishment.
By the time the blue-robed interrogator got to his senses, Tarson's binds were scrap metal, and Tarson the Terse was long gone.
[First time posting here, don't know how it'll work out]
|
Die.
I watched as the flowers wilted, then the trees grew old, a rabbit lay down for a long sleep in the browning grass as the sounds of jumping fish grew silent. We watched the forest wither and heard the thuds as avian corpses fell from the sky. His eyes are what I noticed, pure terror, not that I could do it but that I would for it is well known the power scales inversely but control goes the other way. Terror was still in his eyes as they glazed over, as he collapsed to the ground. Hunted across a continent, harried at every turn but now I shall know peace as I take my rest as the final corpse to fall from a spell with power but no direction.
|
RandomMeme-134
|
Kathrine_natinde
|
2023-10-16 23:57:06
|
2023-10-16 20:07:21
| 79 | 13 |
k56u2wl
|
k55ufph
|
17968f8
|
17968f8
|
[WP] Unjustly exiled from your village by your loved ones and friends, including your childhood friend/love interest, you vowed never to forgive them. You and other species' exiles founded a prosperous city-state. A delegation from your old village has arrived to try to negotiate trading rights.
|
I watched from the shadows. A deep utter darkness, impenetrable to the eye. Watching.
The delegation sat at the table, looking at our Ambassador. The fact that the Ambassador sat across from 6 delegates and 3 men at arms, apparently by themselves was not lost on them.
"I am Ambassador Speaker," her throaty voice purred, "What brings a delegation from Horrowet to our doors?"
I moved to change my perspective, causing the delegation to shift uncomfortably without really knowing why.
"It is our hope to open trade with Haven," Arduin, my former best friend voiced, "We have crops, furs, and even fish we wish to trade."
"I see," Ambassador Speaker nodded, "and what do you hope to receive in return?"
"Black Steel," Bader, my father... former father, injected, "and shade rock."
Knowing what they were after I let my thoughts drift slightly. Looking over the group anger seeped into my mind. Arduin wore the badge of Headman. Bader, he who'd sired me, was still the head blacksmith, tho he had aged greatly. And Coolianne. A healer, and my former love. I knew the others, but those three had been the source of my exile.
Occasionally, a child was born with an aspect. Wind, fire, ice, earth, many others had been recorded, but aspects were fairly rare.
I had been born with the ice aspect. As I'd grown up I'd become proficient in it's use. And has believed myself to be invaluable to the village.
And then my Shadow Aspect emerged. I'd been ecstatic, thinking I could help the village even more.
I'd showed Coolianne. And my world had fallen apart. She'd told Bader and Arduin. Who immediately denounced my abilities as demonic, since no human had ever been given 2 separate aspects.
I hadn't know I was even in danger. I'd been given Seethlin, a poison that was supposed to only effect those with aspects, in a drink from Coolianne. Then I'd been stabbed repeatedly by Arduin and Bader. I'd been taken out and thrown off a cliff into the river.
I don't remember much after for a long time. Fever dreams. Chills wracking my body. Cool water. Warm milk.
My first conscious thought was having my head stroked as I nursed from a mother orc.
"He wakes," she stated in broken common.
"Take it easy youngling," a cream colored feline face, with blonde spots popped into my field of vision, "You are safe here."
And so I came to be with the Exiles. Those who couldn't live with most of their kind. Whether they'd decided to walk their own path, or been cast out with hatred and violence, all were welcome among the exiles.
Over the years our little gathering became the the Free City of Haven. A powerhouse in the region. Due in no small part to the nigh indestructible alloy, black steel, and shade rocks and energy source. Both of which I was intricately involved with.
"I'm sure we can come to an arrangement for black steel tools," Ambassador Speaker nodded her cream colored head, "but shade rocks will have to be approved. I cannot make that decision."
"Who can?"' Arduin queried, leaning forward.
"Only Blademaster Iceblind," Speaker said the name quietly and reverently.
"Can you send for him?" Bader asked somewhat impatiently.
{I am here,} my voice seemed to come from everywhere as it was emitted from the shadows, carrying with it an unearthly chill.
They looked around in confusion, only to jerk in shock when they looked to Ambassador Speaker only to find me standing beside her chair.
The men at arms reached for their weapons instinctively only to freeze in place at my appearance. A black hooded cloak covered me almost completely. The hood was pushed back far enough that a blank mask made of white ice could be seen. The temperature of the room began to noticeably slide down.
{You may not have shade rocks,} I told in no uncertain terms.
"But why?" Coolianne looked distraught. We had traded shade rocks before, why not now?
{Because you cannot be trusted,} I turned to face them, letting them feel the pressure of my presence, {Not to mention, you believe the process to be demonic.}
Coolianne immediately looked stricken, as a creeping fear began to form in her mind.
"We think no such thing!" Bader stood and slammed a hammer like fist on the table.
{Really?} I turned my back on them, and then released my cloak, {That was the reason you gave when you poisoned and tried to kill me.)
Bader and Arduin had gone white as ghosts. Coolianne looked like she was caught somewhere in the middle of passing out, vomiting, or fleeing. The multiple scars on my back identified me in ways nothing else could.
The men at arms were gripping their weapons in fear, but didn't know what to do. The other delegates were looking from the scars on my back to the terrified trio.
Turning back to face them I removed my mask.
"BASIL???" one of the delegates jumped to his feet in shock, "You said he fell off the cliff!!!"
{Poisoned. Stabbed. Thrown,} I grated out.
Coolianne's nerve finally broke and she ran towards the door, but spikes of earth grew out to block them.
{You didn't know that Seethlin had an antidote,} I dragged Coolianne back to her chair with wind, {You didn't know I could seal my wounds with ice. You didn't know that if you survive Seethlin poisoning, there's a very good chance you'll awaken more aspects.}
"Bas-" one of the delegates began, but immediately corrected himself, "Blademaster Iceblind, I humbly ask that you allow those innocent here to return home. I will tell what has happened. And we will prepare an apology gift. We hope you are still open to trade for black steel, but do with these as you will."
With that the rest of the delegates and the men at arms quickly exited the room.
"What will you do with them, my mate," Speaker murmured.
{What they did to me wouldn't be out of line,} I stared down into their terrified faces, {but hard labor will serve us better. To the black mines with them.}
|
It was never an easy task for him. To leave behind everything that he worked for, everyone he loved. But that was exactly what his fate had decided for him. Him along with numerous other people, from different walks of life, still couldn't quite understand the reason for their banishment. People living in huts, people living in stone houses and people with no houses, all had to follow the king's order.
With dedication, hardwork and cooperation, formation of a new state was possible. With a charismatic presence of the undisputed leader, Leander, everything was manageable. His strategic mind helped them to navigate challenges with ease. Oftentimes Leander faced immense difficulty motivating the people, they had tendencies to become incredibly gloomy. As if fighting his own battle against his mind wasn't enough.
Arion state, unlike the old state of Aldebaran, was nestled amidst an expansive forest. Known as the Arcturus forest. Its vibrant foliage and diverse wildlife made everyone think twice before exploring it. They were a little lucky that their State is surrounded by a forest where the supposed magical herbs exist. Legend says that these herbs can cure invisible diseases of the mind.
Leander recounts the old days. Even though he knows full well that this will stir up emotions. The distant sound of his childhood, playing with his brother. Eating the food his mother made him with utmost care and love. He remembered her too, how she made him feel. Sometimes he longed for the simplicity of his old job as the palace guard. Mundane work didn't tax his mind much. But he also remembers the sound of his own voice, shouting in protest as he was exiled. His fist clenched tightly realizing how his own people, loved ones, friends plotted his downfall and aided the government in banishing him.
Days pass as usual. Artisans trying to hone their skills. Merchants showcasing their spices, clothes and pottery. Laborers and craftsmen, molding clay, shaping wood and metal into usable artifacts. Soldiers exercising and conducting drills. Until one day, when diplomats from the state of Aldebaran came to visit Arion.
They wanted to strike a trade deal with Arion. They brushed aside their past actions against the citizens of Aldebaran. They had set their eyes on the trade deal.
But the weight of their actions weighed heavily on their minds. With the trade deal on the horizon, Leander found himself restless. His mind drifted towards the past, unable to shake off the memories of his banishment. He knew he needed to talk to Orion who used to be a Priest and a Medical officer in the state of Aldebaran.
"This trade deal has made me feel an intense rollercoaster of emotions. While I've helped establish a new state, where the people are seemingly happy, I'm struggling to let go of the past without seeking revenge. The memories still haunt me", Leander says as his lips run dry.
Orion leans forward, his sage-like eyes narrowed, "free yourself from he thoughts of exacting a revenge. Focus on what you can control, which should be the further prosperity of Arion. Your internal turmoil might affect your ability to make judicious decisions for your state. When I was a Medical officer in Aldebaran, there were rumors that herbs in the forest of Arcturus can cure invisible diseases of mind. This trade deal can be a good opportunity for our state, for your internal peace as well as for the state itself"
"But why should I help them to cure this? I want to take revenge "
"Because these foolish people probably realized that banishing people with the mysterious, invisible disease of the mind might not be the bravest idea".
As memories flooded his mind, Leander knew he couldn't escape them any longer. Leander's emotions were swirling within him. Clouding his judgment.. His heart was a battleground where two conflicting choices battled.
But with a heavy heart, he made a decision. He would choose the path of forgiveness. Not out of weakness, but out of strength. He had overcome his intense emotions, battling inside him. Once he had made the decision to let go of the past, his internal turmoil seemed to have abated.
Like Orion said, he had finally decided to focus solely on the prosperity of Arion.
|
AdamGreyskul75
|
mavericksage11
|
2023-08-04 00:09:18
|
2023-08-02 14:50:51
| 24 | 17 |
jup1cql
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juhm5q6
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15fqp1c
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15fqp1c
|
[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.
|
"You thought I wouldn't notice huh? You businessmen are always acting so important, like you're better than anybody else. Get in line!".
"Sir please, I'm in a hurry. I have to get to my wife!"
"No you have to get to deez nuts". A few giggles.
You see, the hero I'm going to tell you about is no normal super hero. Some wouldn't really consider him a super hero at all. It is not like he is saving the world from some super villains. It is more like he is saving the world from the inconvenient. Usually this man just goes about his day like everyone else. He has a wife, two beautiful children and a normal job that he hates just like everyone else. He almost seems too normal in a world where everyone has got a superpower. In a world where buildings are destroyed on a daily basis and the homeless people aren't just homeless, but super homeless! It is said, that some of these super homeless people even have the rare ability to teleport out of any building as soon as they enter it. You often hear them saying "The moment I realized I had this ability is when god came in my dream one night and told me 'From now on, thou shalt be homeless!'".
In a world this full of chaos this hero just tries to be a loving husband and raise his children right.
"You're eating my bread, dad! Mom made that for me as launch for school". The man paused for a second. In his face the expression of a man who will later be getting scolded by his wife..
"Am I really, son? Think harder, I want you to see past the surface of things! Am I really eating your bread? Is that even bread? Son, what is reallity but an illusion? I thought you'd notice faster that this bread is just a projection. A test if you want so. And you failed! But don't worry, there won't be any punishment. Just don't tell Mom.."
"I guess your old age is an illusion too then?". The man felt an aching pain in his heart. He knew he has been defeated. He shed a tear. He knew what he'd had to do next. His own son has become a monster and it was his fault. So he stood up, put his hand onto his sons shoulder and said "I'm sorry, son, I'm sorry I didn't raise you right.."
"Don't you dare dad, not again, I will tell mom straight a way!", he called for her: "Mo-". Only half of it came out, as his dad has already transported him into "the room". A realm created by his superpower, only 5 by 5 meters big, without doors and without windows. The only light came from a old fashioned light bulb hanging from the ceiling.
"F\*\*\* this old man, when I'm out of here, I'll rat him out to mom straight away! Arrgh I hate it here. Wait...", the boy noticed, that he was not alone in the room. "Is that a goose??!"
That was the day our hero failed his job as a parent and induced lifelong goose trauma into his son. That's the day our hero turned into "the goose goon"...
|
ManetherenRises
|
None
|
2023-02-02 00:28:27
|
2023-02-01 12:11:30
| 38 | 23 |
j6uobc7
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j6rm5h6
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10qpsam
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10qpsam
|
[WP] Whenever you die, you have the ability to reincarnate at any point in history with full memories of your past lives. Billions of lives later, you realise the truth: Every person ever in history is either your past or future reincarnations. There is no one out here apart from you. You are alone.
|
It wasn't like in the horror movies; not a dark and stormy night with a vaguely human monster skulking through the woods.
No, it was brought daylight. I couldn't have been but a five-minute walk from the road. I loved to come here at least once a week in the fall season when the trees are bright shades of red and orange. It felt magical to me in a way that nothing else did. It was my special place where I came to be alone.
But today there was another.
He was so close already that it was a miracle I hadn't noticed him sooner. He was tall, decently muscular, and wore denim jeans with a button-up flannel shirt. And it would have been unnerving enough if it weren't for the animal mask.
He wore a mask that covered his entire head. A deer mask that appeared to be real... and rotting. It had no eyes and its mouth hung open exposing its decaying teeth. I inhaled shakily and took a step back. The dead leaves crunched under my weight. It had to have been all the indication he needed to know I was about to flee.
He broke toward me in a full sprint, and I turned to run. But the fear coursing through me turned my legs to jelly and I couldn't seem to run properly. I could hear the leaves behind me making a racket under his feet as he closed in. I broke through my own head and pulled it together, forcing myself into a sprint.
I ran track dammit. I was faster than most of the other girls, even. I was uniquely prepared for this situation.
I pumped my arms and lifted my knees, moving faster and faster. I didn't need to look back to know he was right on my heels. I regulated my breathing and began to think more clearly. I couldn't afford to stop at my car. I would have to run straight down the road and flag someone down. I thanked my stars that I wore my running shoes today.
And then cursed them as I was tackled to the ground. I screamed and turned around to wrestle him off of me, but it was no good. He had to have been one of those MMA guys because he got me in a hold before I knew what was happening. His forearm was pressed hard against my throat. I struggled all that I could until the brightness around me turned dark... and I drifted away.
When I came to, I was being dragged by ankles. I found that my mouth had been taped shut and my hands and legs were bound by rope. The leaves rustled in my ears as I slid easily over them. The man in the deer mask was pulling me toward some kind of structure. I managed to lift my head enough to see that it was a shack in a small clearing.
It was like the horror movies after all. I began struggling with the ropes but it was no use. He dragged me into the darkness of the shack and lifted me with relative ease onto a long dining room table. I started screaming again in hopes that someone– anyone at all would come to my rescue. But it was all in vain. He closed the door, only the light from the shuttered windows illuminating the room.
He then moved to the couch and began messing with something out of view. I began hyperventilating as I looked for a way out. I had heard the door lock. The windows were poorly boarded. I was truly, truly fucked.
He approached with a radio in hand and set it down on one of the chairs next to the table. He turned it on and the busted speaker sputtered out some garbled pop music. He looked at me and then did something unexpected. He reached down and tore the tape off my mouth. I immediately began begging for my life as he placed his hands on the sides of the deer mask and lifted it off. All of my words died in my mouth.
"Oh, fuck," I muttered.
"That's right," she said as she stared back at me. "Oh, fuck is right, Megan."
I couldn't believe what I was seeing. It wasn't a man– it was Beatrice Hanley, one of my classmates. I didn't need to think hard about the motive. I had been pretty terrible to her in the past.
"Beatrice..."
"Just shut up, Megan," she cut me off. "You know how sick of your voice I am? I only took off the tape so I could hear your scream."
"Beatrice, please," I said in a wavering tone. "I- I'm sorry."
"Sorry now," she said as she lifted a toolbox up from the floor and hefted it onto the table.
"Oh, shit, please," I begged. "Please don't do this. I won't tell anyone!"
"I know you won't," she said cryptically as she popped the latches on the sides of the toolbox and opened it up.
"Oh, God, Please, Beatrice," I sobbed. "Holy shit, please don’t do this."
"I asked you nicely earlier in the year to leave me alone," she said as she rustled through the tools. "You could have stopped fucking with me a long time ago, but you didn't."
I let my head fall to the table as tears streamed down my cheeks. It made sense now. She had joined track when she first came to our school. She was insanely fast. Me and some of the other girls bullied her off of the team and she joined wrestling where she shined there too. Then we made fun of her for *that*.
"You've called me, oh let's see," she mused. "Flat ass. Big nose. Big Bertha. But the one that really stuck was Manly Hanley. That was your finest work. And now you're about to be *my* finest work."
"Beatrice, this isn't who you are," I cried.
"It wasn't," she said. "For the past... I don't even know *how* many lifetimes, it wasn't. But I'm tired of being nice. Tired of dealing with bullshit. Tired of being responsible. I've been so many damn people, but I've never been one like this. So I'm doing this now."
I looked down at her to see her staring back at me through dead eyes. Whatever she was on about, she believed it fully. I hadn't known that Beatrice was *legitimately* crazy.
"And right now, you're thinking I'm a crazy person," she said as she lifted a blow torch and tested it. "It's funny, you know... I see crazy people on the street; on TV. And I always wondered, what drives someone to be like that?" She set the blow torch on the table and leaned forward with a heavy sigh. "And now I've realized it. It's me at the tail end of my journey. Self-destructive, uninhibited, fulfilling any desires that come to mind... it's just me after I've finally tipped. And I'm about to tip hard right now."
"W-what the fuck are you *talking* about?" I whimpered.
"Oh, nothing," she said with a calm smile as she pulled out a welding mask and fit it snuggly over her face. "Nothing at all, ya dumb bitch."
"Beatrice, please," I pleaded. "Don't kill me."
"Not gonna kill you," she said as he picked up the blowtorch. "You're gonna *wish* you were dead. You'll have a lot of family support and therapy will help a ton, but you'll never really be whole again. You'll hate the sound of rustling leaves and the song on the radio right now will trigger you for the rest of your life, but more or less, you'll be alright."
"... H-how d-"
"How do I know?" she asked. "Because I've been you too."
r/A15MinuteMythos
|
“GOD DAMN IT, GREG. FILL THE DAMN THING. I DON’T GOOOO OUT THERE FIGHTING A BLOODY WAAAAR SO THAT YOU TELL ME THE GROG HAS RUN OUWAAAT.” The drunk soldier slammed his empty mug on the counter.
“My name is Mathew and I think you have had enough, sir.” The young bartender kindly refused.
“GREG, GROG, IT DOESN’T MATTER. THIS AIN’T DOING SHIT TO ME, I HAVE HAD ALL THE FUCKING BEERS EVER SPITTED OUT ONTO THIS HELL HOLE OF A WORLD AND YOUR SMART ASS IS DENYING ME A FUCKING DROPLET WHEN I HAVE DRANK THE FUCKING OCEAN. I HAVE LIVED AS YOU, YOUR FATHER AND THE WHORE HE FUCKED BEHIND YOUR MOTHER’S BACK.”
“Sir, you are being too loud, so I am asking you to leave, please.”
“AYYYYYY, NEVERMIND. I MUST APOLOGIZE FOR BEING SO MISTAKEN. I CAN’T IMAGINE BEING YOUR FATHER, SO I MUST HAVE FUCKED A PIG TO HAVE SHAT OUT TWAT LIKE YOU OUT OF MY OWN FLESH AND BONE.” He declared before choking on what little beer he had left in his throat as a keen eye watched next to him.
“That’s it.” The bartender held him by the clothes to drag him out, but the old man put up a nasty fight as he moaned and cursed.
“Please, my friend here had a rough night.” A young soldier suddenly interjected. “His mind has been very misty since ever since last night. He had to pillage a Khazalian settlement.”
The bartender crossed his arms with a look of disbelief.
“Just let him have one more mug and I promise to take him out of your hair soon.” He begged as the old soldier began mumbling incoherent words from an unknown shanty.
The bartender stood in silence, then gave out a sign and turned to prepare him another glass, but not before nodding at him in disapproval.
“Thank you.” The young soldier figured that it was best to say little.
“HOHOHOOO. It looks like Christmas came early.” He smacked his lips before putting his hands on the young soldier’s shoulders to square them up. “Ahhhhhh, now this one is of my own flesh and mind, hehehehe. Good lie to keep his nose out of our business, Greg.” He slowly said, even though the bartender could hear him from a few steps away. But he couldn’t be bothered to confront the old fool.
“I am Kayn, sir .. uh, so about the thing you said about being that guy,-“
“Oh fuck that guy. I can’t even remember me being him. Probably because my life was so depressing I blew out whatever memory I had of him, when the barrel of my gun was sticking into my mouth.”
“So … you are saying that you were him – like you lived his life. I mean I know it is a weird question, but … I am sorry, I must be looking so weird that –“
The old soldier gave him a curious look as he dug his elbow into the table. “You are an early bloomer, aren’t you?” He asked with genuine curiosity.
“An early … bloomer?”
“Ohohohohoho.” The old soldier chuckled to himself. “Oh, trust me you are gonna love the next 500 billion years.”
“I don’t understand.”
The bartender slammed his drink onto the counter.
“So when you die and you start living another life, it is only a matter of time before you forget your first life. And an early bloomer is someone who has yet to forget their first life. I don’t really remember but it was probably around the thousands when you start forgetting.” He revealed before downing the mug.
“God, now that was a good last one for them all.”
Kayn was aghast at such a revelation. The old soldier’s eyes went wide.
“Noooo, don’t tell me you thought you were the only one. I mean surely you would have noticed in your first couple of lives.” He toppled the mug to get the last few drops left.
“But this is only my second one.”
“No no no, that must be wrong. You can’t be the second. I may be old, but even I remember the first one, it was umm … full of the flower and daisies.” He gestured with his hands.
“I was a slave in the desert. I died of starvation.” He shook his head, still in shock.
“Kid, the point is. I don’t blame you for not knowing. This time period is a bit kuku. With how the council of Monism has been strict about talking about past lives. It is a big taboo to even talk about the idea of being a different person. You don’t know what life you will end up, once they are off with your head.”
He warily looked to his surroundings for any eavesdroppers. But I was only them and the exhausted bartender who was whipping some glasses. “Like we are doing right now?”
“It is wartime, boy. People are too much on edge to risk revealing anything to the government, lest you want to be accused of being a Khazalist yourself.” He rubbed his eyes to sober up. “But there will be times when you will live through where none of this worrying matters. Where you are free to enjoy what you have, how you like it and you will know what the future holds, so you can’t have the piece of mind that it is not important how hard you fuck up. You are all there is, so treat yourself the best you can. That is how you can be sure that everyone else gets the best they deserve. But at the end of it all, nothing of this will matter.” He stretched his arms before standing up. “You serve a good Grog for a half swine. Send my love to your mother.” He bid farewell to the bartender as he took his leave.“
​
​
**Part 1**
|
a15minutestory
|
FluffWrites
|
2023-06-23 17:11:15
|
2023-06-23 16:59:59
| 38 | 27 |
jp8u4ew
|
jp8sf76
|
14gxxqb
|
14gxxqb
|
[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.”
|
"Nope, I am done with this. Being a scapegoat, and your personal all-things cleaner.
Good luck Hero, I am out of the party.", I said, taking my staff and preparing a teleportation spell.
"Wait! Sophia! Don't go!", the Hero grabbed my hand.
I looked at him just the way I think I look at garbage.
"What?", I asked of him, and I am ashamed to say it, but I enjoyed seeing him flinch.
The noise woke up the other party members, and everyone gathered around me.
"What's going on?", Leo the Saint asked.
"I am leaving. Tired of being the "Evil Sorceress whose strong powers are needed...for now", or "The Succubi who flirted her way into the Hero's party", while I am the one to clean up your mess.", I said.
"It's not that ba...", Gus the Mercenary started.
I snorted.
"Not that bad?
You idiots killed a Hydra next to a Merchant hub's only source of water! Do you know how toxic their blood is?Or how about you leading the dragon to a Watchtower because it would be easier to jump onto its back?
And it was me who had to "forcefully evacuate" the entire town, both times, and these are the "mild" issues you caused.", I rolled my eyes.
The Hero just watched this all play out.
"Sophia...
We need you.", Ingrid the Druid, and the final party member said.
"I know. But you don't deserve me.", I said, pushing them all out with a barrier, before finishing the teleportation spell I started before.
I could hear the Hero's "I am sorry...", but I didn't care.
I returned to my hideout, and continued my research on demonic energy, bloodlines and souls' affinity to various powers and the likelihood of awakening them through training, or constructed "fated events".
I heard the Hero's Party took in an elven Ranger, and that they started using more traps, and luring tactics.
"Heh, at least they learnt something...", I smirked, as I went back to my research.
Unbeknownst to me, the party's route was taking them awfully close to my hideout...
|
Writteninsanity
|
TheWanderingBook
|
2024-04-26 04:31:04
|
2024-04-26 03:50:19
| 148 | 91 |
l1b1o7j
|
mvslhza
|
1cdakuj
|
1l2fvry
|
[WP] As you tuck your daughter into bed, she tells you that there's a monster in her closet. Thinking she's just being a kid, you open the closet to show her there's nothing there, but you instead find your daughter who tells you that there's someone in her bed.
|
The cow gave me a reproachful stare as I set her back in the field. Mr Travis slowly walked up to me, smiling on the infectious way of his. "Thats the last one. Cheers Greenie, you just saved me a whole heap of trouble."
I gave him a smile in turn, looking across the field. The bushes I had quickly grown were standing strong, as they would do until he could get that fence fixed. The other cows were milling about, returned home after their eventful day. It was a nice sight, as my gaze returned to him. "Thats no problem at all, it's what I'm here for. I'd better get back to home though, ready for the next call. But I'll see you again in a few days for my usual pickup?"
He grinned wider, nodding. "Sure thing. See you then."
We waved each other off, as I headed back. Not that the other [Dreamers](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/159anll/comment/jtf27ij/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3) would be interested, but I had to keep them updated as to what I did. My report for the day would probably be given a causal glance before being filed away. Not that I could blame them. Catching wandering cows wasn't exactly the stuff of [legends](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/15ku7uu/comment/jv7oa0z/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3).
I reached to the grass below my feet, making it bend and flex. Strengthened stalks lifted me up, before making me race along the ground without moving my legs. Maybe it was a bit of a lazy way to travel, but I couldn't deny it worked.
I arrived back home within the hour, seeing my farmhouse standing proud before my little orchard. The organisation had bought the place for me, and outfitted it with all the necessary bits and bobs that made it a base for them. I had taken the initiative to buy that little extra land as well, and used my ability to grow the lovely selection.
The majority weren't native, and by all rights should grow here. But I persuaded them to, and with fresh fruit produced all year round, it made the community more than happy to support me. It was absolutely a cushy assignment here, perfectly suited to me.
But as I approached, I noticed a tremor in the grass and weeds. Someone was here, looking for me. I couldn't see them, but their presence had been felt. I stopped, crouching low and connecting with my plants. Through them I saw the area around me, and a place where they were being crushed.
It was behind the house. This... person was crouched low. I felt the phantom pain as something sharp cut through the plants below, damaged without thought. Knowing they were there I kept still, calling out loudly. "You can come out."
I heard a rustle, before a person stalked out from behind my home. Their body was thick, fur poking out around straining clothes. Their head was shaped almost bear like, but I could see the human intelligence in their eyes. They growled, and spoke in a guttural voice. "Finally.... Greenfinger."
I raised an eyebrow, watching them from a distance. "Who might you be?"
Their laugh was heavy, fur rippling with each breath. "Ha! I am Ravager. And you are my prey."
Their self assurance made me roll my eyes. I had heard of them. A new super on the scene. From the sounds of it, they wanted to be on a similar level and [Nightmare](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/s/WnP0XKbmY5). The city based [Dreamers](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/18pzlxy/comment/kespn59/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3) had spoken of his strength and aggression. The assumption was his power was limited shape shifting, primarily into wolf or bear like appearances.
The others had managed to drive him away, but he had yet to be caught. If I had to guess, he probably wanted to get some prestige by taking out a [Dreamer](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/18hndq6/comment/kd826d9/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3). Being one of the lone posts, he probably thought I would be a push over.
How wrong he would be. I crossed my arms, bending my knees ever so slightly. "Prey? I hardly think so. I will give you this opportunity to surrender peacefully."
All I got in return was a roar, as he leapt towards me. He over quickly, definitely used to charging into action. I couldn't ignore the slight twinge of fear as he approached, with all those teeth and claws. But even as he moved, so did I.
The plants beneath him surged upwards, thick vines wrapping around his limbs. They snapped taut as he moved, but held on. I gave him a small smile,before having them whip him into the ground. Other vines followed, reaching up to grab his body, trying to hold him.
He snarled, spitting at me. "You think twigs can stop me?!"
I heard snapping, as vines started to split. He was strong, I had to admit that. But his strength was all physical. In the city scape, that would be helpful in maneuvering its stone, metal and glass. But out here in the country? This was my playground.
He roared to his feed, laughing to himself. Yet that died, as he noticed a few plants growing upwards. They surrounded him, almost like a firing squad. Yet instead of guns, they had thorns. Long, sharp thorns.
I waved my hand, making my bushes release them. Ravager roared as they peppered him, making him look like he had gotten on the wrong side of a porcupine. It wasn't deadly by any means, but I would hurt him. A lot. And it did, if the scream-like roar was anything to go by.
More vines reached up to hold him down. A few grabbed the thorns, driving a couple deeper in not-too-damaging places. He tried to strain, again, but unfortunately for him I was ready. More vines than before grappled him, holding him in place.
I made sure he could not move before shifting from my position. My colleagues from the city would likely rub it in his face, but I found that beneath me. I would simply call it in, and have someone come out and collect him.
|
When my daughter was one year old she refused to go near the closet in her room. If someone was carrying her, she would throw a fit trying to get away. We tried to reason that it's just a kid being a kid. She would grow up. But it got worse.
*
When she was two she started to sneak out of her room and into ours in the middle of the night. She hadn't started speaking yet, the doctor said that some children started speaking later, so she couldn't tell us why. She always looked so desperate to stay that we couldn't refuse. We tried a few times, but she started to shake so violently that we felt like the worst parents.
One night I told her to sleep with her mom in our room and I will sleep in hers, she started gesturing wildly, every movement of her little limbs conveyed fright. She kept pointing at our closet and I thought she was afraid of something in it. So after she went to sleep I went to her to check her closet. As expected there was nothing but her stuff. It was just a child's imagination running wild.
But I decided we needed to see the doctor again.
But the sessions were fruitless. She kept looking at the doctor then at us then bowed her head, clamping her lips shut.
I knew my baby was suffering and it broke me to pieces not knowing why or how to take care of it.
*
When she was three, she started speaking. Her voice was like a music made just for us. She had started to get better. She slept in her room mostly. But once in a while I thought I saw her in the middle of the night checking on us.
Why?
*
When she was four she finally asked me if monsters were real. I answered they were and her eyes grew wide. I explained that most monsters were just bad people. They weren't different, just bad.
She nodded then asked me to check her room for monsters. Terror gripped me. Had someone been in my baby's room? Had she been hurt? I stopped my train of thoughts from going bad to worse. I needed to assure my daughter that she was safe not to drive myself into a frenzy.
I smiled softly. "Of course, honey."
I looked under her bed, near her toys, and the bathroom.
"All clear." I said. "No monsters."
"The closet." Her voice was barely above a whisper. Her face was white.
Hair was standing at the back of my neck as I moved closer to the closet. I looked back to assure my daughter but she was holding herself so stiffly as if a wrong move would break her.
I open the door and the air whooshes out of me as if I've been sucker punched. My daughter is standing in the middle of the closet looking terrified.
"There's someone on my bed, daddy." She whispered terrified.
I look back and see my daughter looking at herself, then at me. She shook her head violently. "I'm me. I promise. I-"
She was hyperventilating. Forgetting about the echo I saw, I turned to calm my daughter when I heard a low cry of pain. My daughter, or her echo or whatever it was, was sitting at the floor crying in fear, a little puddle of water had formed below her. She had peed herself in terror.
She looked at me, then shook her head. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
"No-" I choked out.
I was torn between my daughter. I knew something sinister was happening but what I didn't know. I looked at the bed and then at the closet. One was looking at me with pleading eyes and othe other was staring at herself in fear. And I knew. I just knew. I turned to run towards my daughter but a sudden chill had overtaken the room.
I felt a sharp pain in my chest. I heaved as I clutched my heart, the scream of my daughter calling for me.
"No!" My daughter cried.
"I told you what would happen if you told them." A static-y voice was resonating in the room.
"I'm sorry." My daughter cried.
I wanted to move closer to my daughter but I couldn't move. The pain was so blinding that I fell on my knees. I tried to crawl, I had to save my daughter but the pain was so overbearing that I knew I was a few seconds away from passing out.
"Honey, what's taking- what the hell!" I hear my wife's voice through the cold mist.
There was a yell and a demonic scream pierced through the night. The last thing I saw before I passed out was my wife swinging a poker at the echo.
Our daughter was safe. For now.
|
Shalidar13
|
iknowthisischeesy
|
2024-01-07 20:31:00
|
2023-06-25 20:16:19
| 220 | 67 | null |
jpi824n
|
lwgj8d
|
14ipem3
|
[WP] You’ve witnessed people have their main character climax since being a child, with OST music playing seemingly from out of nowhere. Giving up on having your own moment any time soon after so many years of waiting and wishing, you walk into a coffee shop, only to hear boss music begin playing.
|
It was a Monday.
No one really likes Mondays, but I have a particular disdain for them.
Let’s back up a bit.
My world is a lot like yours. We’re all born with hopes and dreams and desires. If our story isn’t too tragic, we’re loved and encouraged, pushed towards those goals by wise mentors, teachers, parents. We make friends. Some of us find families. Others still become foils, tormenters of a sort. Eventually, regardless of how we start out, we grow into ourselves, becoming… well…
To be completely honest with you, most of us end up working dead end jobs just to eat.
It’s not the most enthralling tale.
But my world isn’t exactly built for “most of us.” It exists for the main character types. The types who inwardly doubt themselves while outwardly overachieving. The types who walk into a room and music starts playing. Quite literally.
Not all of us are born to be main characters. “And that’s okay,” they tell us.
Still, we all grow up with that music. It changes, of course, depending on the scene. Depending on who has center stage.
For main characters, that music never stops, even when they’re alone. A slow contemplative melody sings when they wash dishes. A chorus of drums accompanies them as they take out the trash. And when they lie in bed, with nothing but their thoughts and the tick tick tick of their clock to keep them company, a mournful dirge whispers sweet nothings as they remember lost love.
I don’t know how they stay sane.
They probably don’t, which would explain a lot.
As for me?
When I’m alone, all I hear is silence.
Sorry, that’s all a bit bleak. Let’s get back to Mondays.
Everyone knows that Mondays are when most main characters have their defining moment, their narrative climax. A big event, straight out of fantasy. For them, it’s wonderful, exciting. For side characters. For me.
Let’s just say, when you’re stock shelves, just trying to make rent, it’s not exactly \*fun\* being whisked away to a magical world without any warning. To be thrust into an extra-narrative space where one misstep could get you written off—or worse, relegated to secondary character status.
I don’t envy secondary characters. Their lives are more interesting on average than us side characters, sure. But those lives are wholly in service to the narrative of their main character. Frankly, that loss of agency horrifies me.
But I might be biased.
Most of my friends, my found family, had been side characters, like me. Then a Monday rolled around, and they were gone.
On this particular Monday, I was getting coffee at a shop run by one of these old friends. Her name was Julia.
We’d talk every night, back in high school. About boys we liked, about our insane parents, about the series of laser sword battles that had broken out in the hallway last week—turning the school into some weird space station. It was a good friendship.
When we graduated, she went upstate to university, and I stayed home to make ends meet. Those nightly talks became weekly calls. Then monthly. Then one Monday she met Brandon, a main character from a wealthy family, and the next time I heard from her was when she sent me the wedding invite.
I went. It was nice.
Unremarkable, but nice.
At the reception, her mother told the story of how they met. They fell in love over Christmas. Their family coffee shop was about to go under foreclosure, apparently, but somehow Brandon stopped that from happening? It was a whole thing. Admittedly, I was drunk and not really paying attention to the details. The venue turning into a snowy forest when I was only wearing a dress, heels, and a thin jacket didn’t help much either.
Anyways, it was a Monday at my ex-besties coffee shop and I had a long day of stocking shelves and pretending to be happy ahead of me. I pushed the door open, [and my silent world filled with music.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YNy_UQ0BJXU)
It seemed normal at first, a bit on the whimsical side, but not completely out of place for a family-run, hole-in-the-wall coffee shop. I looked around for the source, for any main character types seated at a corner booth who might be getting their caffeine fix before an exciting day of adventure.
Then I saw the woman at the counter, and the orchestra blared into a raging crescendo.
Sleek blond hair styled short. An expensive, fitted coat. A face etched into what was—almost certainly—a permanent scowl. And the clincher: wireless earbuds.
No decent person wore those earbuds in public.
As a rule, background music was reserved for main characters. This woman clearly didn’t get the memo. I knew from personal experience, that there were a lot of people like her in the world. Namely, side characters and secondary characters who thought they deserved to be a main character. All of them wore these earpieces.
And all of them were monsters.
Julia came out of the back room, and saw what I saw. Her face paled.
“Finally,” said the monster. “I’ve been waiting forever. How is this dump still running when your service is this terrible?”
Julia winced.
“I’m sorry ma’am,” Julia said, “What can I get for you?”
“Right,” said the monster, “I’ll have a 16 ounce caramel, extra hot latte, with white chocolate powder, half a pump of Irish cream and vanilla, and English toffee on the side.”
Julia was quiet.
“Did you get all that?” Asked the monster.
“Sorry. We uhh.” Julia stammered, “We don’t really do that here. What’s on the menu is what we’ve got. But I can do maybe half of that? If that’s okay?”
It wasn’t.
The walls of the coffee shop bent and stretched and shifted, becoming rock and ore and crystal. Shelves and tables and stools grew and grew into broken columns and charred, fallen statues of nameless heroes. The monster grew with them, bursting into flame, horns protruding from her ashen face as her skin turned molten and black.
“That is,” rasped flames flicked from the demon’s mouth, her eyes narrowed into hungry slits, “Unacceptable.”
\-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Part 2 later today after DnD!!!
Edit: Part 2 up! https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/172zbbo/comment/k430fdt/?utm\_source=share&utm\_medium=web2x&context=3
|
I am my father’s son.
And my father was a strict man. From the beginning of my childhood years up until my graduation from High School, my father had trained, taught and shaped me for one purpose and one purpose only, the time where I would reach the climax as a main character of my world, however much that amounted to be worth.
I found it rather pointless at the time, it’s not like you needed all this preparation for something that would be so underwhelming. For a majority of people, they reached their climax when they entered a suitable profession, some others when they married their partner. Some even reached their climax in high school, saving another human being, rescuing a dog or cat in danger, soldiers participating in war, doctors and researches achieving important results, etc. You can get the idea, everyone gets their climax at one point, not too far from when they reach 18, mostly a few years.
Father was a strict man, but loving. I knew he always cared for me behind those cold eyes, but for some reason he couldn’t bear NOT to treat me strictly. He looked sad that he couldn’t give me the life of a normal kid.
I was sad as well, that my father was burdened to take care of me all alone. My mother had left me soon after I was born. Father didn’t talk much about her.
Regardless, the common point of all climaxes is the OST music playing, everyone has their special theme that god knows where it plays from, most just sound calm or heroic, some sound filled with valiance and bravery, others sound lamented and chill inducing.
I have also been waiting for my OST to play for a long, long time. My father did not allow me to get a job after I graduated, nor did he allow me to take up any hobbies besides training, combat, shooting and reading.
He said they would distract me, for when the moment comes, I needed to be prepared. I still don’t know why my father behaved that way. I didn’t know where he got his money either.
I always pondered about this, running on autopilot, until soon enough I entered my favorite caffe, where I go to get a cup of black coffee sometimes. Except this time it was… different.
A chill ran through my spine as I looked around the caffe. No customers, simply ten men in black suits. I could hear a bell in the back of my mind.
*Ting*
It rang. It sounded like the bells you would hear in a grand prayer, a bell of grandeur.
*Ting*
It rang again. This time louder, fiercer, stronger.
*TING*
This ring reverberated through my skull and entire body. It sounded off. Something was wrong.
“Who are you?”
“Does that matter?” Replied one of the men.
“We are not here to talk, that’s for sure.” Said one of the others.
“Unfortunately you will have to die, demon.” Spoke one of the older men, as he cracked his knuckles.
“Demon? What the hell do you mean?” I asked, frustrated and shocked at what was happening.
“Has your father not told you? You are the fated one. You will bring immense harm to the world, and cause the death of many innocent people and families. You are meant to die. You will die. You will join your father soon.” Barked one of the other men, this one masked and bald.
“What the hell did you do to my father?!” I screamed out in fright and anger combined. They had killer my father, according to them. This could not be.
However my thoughts were interrupted as I heard a demonic rumbling from the surroundings.
My OST.
It began playing.
It sounded odd, weird, it was exhilarating, yet frightening. It filled me with excitement, but I could not say the same for the men. They paled and looked at each other. They were considering. A fatal decision.
I took one of the nearby chairs and swung it directly at the head of the bald, masked man who had approached. A severe concussion, if not fracture. One was down.
The others soon fell as well, two tried taking out their guns to shoot, but the only thing they shot at was the dead body of their colleague that I used to defend myself. Two more fell, one of them bleeding from the abdomen due to a knife I picked up from one of the dead bodies, the other sitting upright, half of his skull caved in when I bashed his head on the sharp corner of a table.
The OST continued playing. It played, and played, and played. It did not stop even when they were dead. I knew what my father wanted of me now. I knew who I was meant to become.
The government will know what it means to try and kill a peaceful person like me. They will die peacefully.
|
Mzzkc
|
the_greedywriter
|
2023-10-08 17:01:01
|
2023-10-08 16:55:46
| 93 | 38 |
k40emad
|
k40dqrf
|
172zbbo
|
172zbbo
|
[WP] the normally non-violent hero loads a single bullet into their antique long unused revolver and prepares a shot. "if you kill me you'll be just like me!" the villain exclaims. the hero is unconvinced.
|
The night sky hung dark over the city. Malevolence lay on the ground defeated, all his energy spent in the preceding battle, and now he was too wounded to do anything but speak.
"You've bested me again Starstreak, I submit, go ahead and lock me-"
Malevolence's sentence was cut off abruptly by the roar of potentiality screaming from the palm of Starstreak as he summoned a sphere of searing plasma.
Malevolence's eyes bolted wide open.
"WOAH WOAH WOAH, hold on Starstreak! I'm too weak to fight, my protective aura is gone now, if you unleash that blast you'll kill me!"
"So be it."
Starstreak replied with a morbid acceptance, and sense of defeat of his own.
Malevolence was panicking now, he had never seen Starstreak so somber in victory, and it struck a deep fear into his heart as he attempted to scramble back with what little strength he had remaining.
"What- what are you saying? You're a *hero* Starstreak, aren't you going to lock me away?"
"I have. So many times I have locked you away, only for one of your cronies to set you free, or for you to plot your inevitable escape. I'm done. Not this time."
The cold malice in Starstreak's eyes sent a thunderous chill through Malevolence. His mind raced to find escape, grasping at straws.
"If you kill me, you will no longer be a hero! You'll be just like me, a murderer. I'm defenseless, you're not acting in self defence here, this is ruthless, cold blooded murder."
Starstreak paused and glanced around at the destruction left in the wake of Malevolence's plot, a series of specially enhanced explosives which he had been unable to prevent from detonating. Screams echoed through the streets, people grieving for their children who had been crushed by rubble. Families were fleeing their homes as the magical fire which sprung from the devices coursed relentlessly through the still standing buildings, lighting up the dark city with their hateful embers.
His eyes landed on a man, cleaved in two by falling debris. A child no older than 8 years old held his hand, attempting feebly to drag him to safety, begging anyone to help save his dad, all in vain.
He turned to stare down at Malevolence.
"I'm already a murderer... these lives were not taken by your hand, but by my mercy. No more."
Suddenly the energy building in Starstreak's hand flared with a furious radiance, he was no longer wielding a mere ball of plasma, but a raging inferno, a spiteful star, barely constrained. A small streak of plasma lunged from its confines and scorched his face, but he did not so much as flinch.
Malevolence reached out a feeble hand, a desperate, pitiable attempt to protect himself from cosmic wrath.
A bright flash followed, and for a brief moment the sky turned blue, as if the sun itself had came to exact its justice. When darkness returned Malevolence was gone, and in his place was a dark silhouette staining the ground.
|
The click of the revolver, the roar of the bullet's flight. A soft noise of blood spattering the wall.the villain gasped in disbelief at his chest, his trachea now with a fatal hole within, as he exhaled, and he hit the floor with a thud. The young girl glared at them. "You... You had the audacity to say that after everything... All those children left in early graves. All those failed experiments. You have the audacity to say I WOULD BE ANYTHING LIKE YOU?" She yelled in anger, glaring at the monster who had beaten her. Hurt her. Deformed her. "B-because I loved you dad! I thought you could change! I tried to give you every chance! I'm s-so sorry!!" She cried, tears coming from her face as she knelt down, self hatred immediately flaring as she stared at her creator, as she desperately tried to fix the damage, yet he held her hands to stop her, wheezing as he hacked up blood, a hand slowly reaching to her face.* M-miriam... He said softly, dying. His eyes seemed to fade. T-that was your name... *He said, his final gaze being not of anger, sorrow or fear, but of recognition, a memory caught.. Slowly senses fell from the villain, until finally his soul fell from his body.
|
FusionVsGravity
|
021Fireball
|
2023-01-16 09:37:09
|
2023-01-16 04:35:05
| 316 | 21 |
j4kfpv3
|
j4jolgk
|
10d1qc6
|
10d1qc6
|
[WP] Being invisible has its perks, but you can't exactly sign a lease. As such, you've become quite the expert lockpick to always have a place to sleep. When you settled into the cozy lake cabin to get out of the rain, you hear "We've been expecting you" from the shadows.
|
Five simple words. Or was it six? Let’s call it six because that makes the phrase symmetrical and everyone loves symmetry.
“Peek-a-boo! I see you.”
It was the invisible man’s favorite game. He’d approach unsuspecting victims and scare the pants off of them with those six simple words. Hell, one time he effectively scared the pants *on* his buddy Ray (it should be noted that Ray was on the toilet at the untimely time of his unappreciated pranking).
But it was all in good fun. And more often than not, that good fun was even harmless fun. “What’s the point of being invisible if you can’t have a good time with it,” the invisible man was wont to say. To be sure, our invisible jester-prince was more jester than prince. No person off limits, no joke too far. Indeed, the invisible man was an equal-opportunity prankster.
It was a well known fact that our resident invisible man was in fact no resident at all. That is, he was homeless.
Now before you go on empathizing with our hapless hero, you must have all of the facts—one must not jump to conclusions. The invisible man was not homeless out of necessity, nor out of happenstance; no, the invisible man was homeless by choice.
You see, when one learns as an invisible boy that one can steal candy bars without so much as raising an eyebrow, one grows up to be an invisible man that will steal shelter without so much as raising a penny.
Now, where was I? Oh yes: it was a well known fact that our resident invisible man was in fact no resident at all. The invisible man “couch surfed” his way through life. Conventional wisdom tell us that “couch surfing” implies an inherent level of consent provided by the owner of said couch—that was not the case for our visibility challenged hero. For that reason, we’ll call the invisible man’s tact “home invasion.”
Residents in town began to grumble and groan at the thought of an invisible prankster living among them. Even his friends grew tired of his tireless antics. And, you know what, it makes sense. That would get old and fast. We’ve all been around the guy for whom everything is a joke and nothing is sacred. You know the guy in high school who walked around the locker room naked, whipping kids with a wet towel shrieking and laughing never realizing that he has already peaked in life. Nobody likes that guy. The invisible man had become that guy.
And so it was that one day, the jester-prince became the jestee-prince.
One night, the invisible man sauntered into—that is, again, committed a home invasion—a vacant bedroom that he frequented. It was in a quiet house, in a quiet neighborhood, on a quiet street. You see, even pranksters like a good night’s sleep.
As his head hit the pillow, the invisible man heard five words that shook him to his core.
“We have been expecting you!”
You see, it’s five words, not six. From earlier. “Peeka-boo. I see you!” Five words. It works better that way. It’s symmetrical. Like I told you, everyone loves symmetry.
Anyway…At the sound of the words, the invisible man launched himself out of bed and onto his feet. Only, since they were expecting him, they must have been expecting that reaction, and so as he landed on his feet he was coated from head to toe in colorful, neon pink corn starch, a sack of which had been cut from above his head.
At that moment, our invisible hero was no longer so invisible. At that same moment the invisible man’s friends realized their shocking lack of foresight and paid dearly for it.
You see, being an invisible man didn’t just mean that he didn’t have to pay for candy, or shelter, or the myriad other things one expects an invisible man may steal. It also meant—and really, had any of them given this even a second of thought it would have been obvious to them—that the invisible man didn’t need to buy clothes.
And so it was that the invisible man’s friends saw the invisible man’s pecker and all agreed to leave the pranking to the professional (i.e. the invisible man) on a go forward basis.
At the end of the day, the invisible man had also learned a valuable lesson. Don’t push your friends too far, or they may be forced to think hard on a way to get you back. And, it’s a good thing to keep in mind for us all, as we—let’s face it—all have friends who are rather dim witted who may pull a prank that leaves your pecker—or any other unseemly area—exposed in a less than flattering neon pink powder.
________
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out my other stories at r/InMyLife42Archive
|
"Honestly, nothing beats the feeling of settling into a cozy place after you've been out in the rain, especially if you spend most of your day naked. Walking in and hearing the splashing of droplets hitting the ground fade to white noise almost makes you want to curl up right then and there.
I couldn't, though - I had work to do.
As I usually do, I grabbed some kindling from beside the fireplace, popped it in, and lit a match, before settling down into a lovely, perfectly-made bed. I know what you're thinking - "didn't you break into here?" - and, well, yeah. I kind of live here, though.
(There used to be a lovely couple - bordering on their 70s, if I had to guess - that came here on the weekends. One day, only one of them came over, so I sat on the chair next to the old woman's bed, put on her husband's clothes, and started screaming. She sprinted to her car, and now I own the place. I'm a horrible person, I know.)
Speaking of the work, though. Squatting is a hard job. This place is nice and all, but sometimes one desires more than a tiny hut by the lake. Plus, I'm a bit less nimble than I once was, so I could use a retirement plan that was a bit more, like, a mansion. In other words, I'm planning a heist.
"We've been expecting you."
Oh god. Not the invisible salespeople. One more advertisement for-
Somewhere in the room behind me, a window broke. Probably not the salespeople, on second thought.
Then, screaming that sort of evoked the term "battle cry." The bedroom door flopped down into the room, kicking up a concerning, if cinematic, amount of dust. When it all cleared, a somewhat elderly woman wearing socks with sandals stood dramatically, one foot extended towards where the door once was.
oh.
She started screaming. I couldn't make out much, but I think it was mostly swears.
**oh no.**
"Getting sucker-punched by a 70-year-old woman" was not on my bucket list, but I guess I had it coming.
Obviously, I booked it out the door.
Then I got another beatdown from her husband - guess I misinterpreted the situation a little bit.
Also, a free ride to prison.
5 years later, and that's about how I got here."
The room, which, to an outside observer, seemed to only consist of a ring of empty chairs, suddenly erupted with the sound of people snapping.
"Thanks for sharing, Mark. Remember, folks, Invisible Trespassers Anonymous is a safe space. You're welcome to share anything here."
"Thanks, everyone. Really, thanks. I'm not sure what I'd have done without your guys' support."
I never got the mansion that I had hoped for, but I do have some actual friends now, which has been nice. Overall, would have the crap kicked out of me by two senior citizens again.
*(first attempt at answering a writing prompt, compliments/criticism/anything welcome)*
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None
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aSolidTime
|
2023-01-20 04:38:53
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2023-01-20 03:52:19
| 533 | 60 |
j53rrk1
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j53m8ic
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10gh61d
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10gh61d
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[WP] Every dragon rider gets a dragon egg to hatch upon their initiation to the guild. When your egg hatched, Your dragon came out a bit... Different.
|
*crack!* Another swiggly line apeared on the pristine white shell. Erik couldn’t wait any longer! As his father and his grandfather before him he too would now become a dragon rider! He tried to get even closer to the egg but he practically already had his nose pressed up against it. Papa Gill grinned at him from the other side of the stable, his back resting against his own dragon Feraxis. “Come now boy, give the little one some space!” Erik’s father stood a few paces to the left. His face seemed emotionless, but the pride gushing out of his one remaining eye seemed to light up the entire room. Erik however didn’t even notice. A small fleck of shell had fallen off and he was looking right at a tiny round eye peeking back at him. He held his breath. Another tick, the shell broke open, and out came his mighty dragon. His companion. His mighty flame breathing best friend of destruction. His…
Two brown eyes were staring at him. “Bleah” said his dragon. Erik had known dragons all his life. But he had known no dragon that had ever said “bleah” before. Most dragons hissed, maybe growled, and sometimes roared. But “bleah’s” were highly unusual in his personal experience. He looked towards his father, and from his father to his grandfather. Both met him with and as confused gaze as the one he himself held. His dragon seemed to be doing alright when it came to horns. All the good dragons had horns and so did Erik’s but that was where the similarities stopped. The vertical slit eyes seemed to have been replaced by horizontal slit ones, scales were replaced by short and stout hairs, and claws were replaced by hooves. Erik stared at the baby goat in front of him. Goats didn’t hatch from eggs right? Erik looked to his father again whose eye now shone with mild disappointment. Erik felt tears coming up behind his eyes. This should have been his day! The day he turned into a real man! He looked back at the freshly hatched goat hoping that it had somehow transformed into something more dragon like. The goat sneezed. Black lightning shot out its nose and exploded one of the giant stone floor tiles a few paces away. Papa Gill laugh-screamed louder than Erik had ever heard him do. Even louder than that one time when he and papa had gone riding on Feraxis together. Two tiny wings unfurled from the small goats back. “Bleah!”
|
every dragon is different but most have similarities enough to others to have types like wyvern, drake and the like. Mine come out like a snake with fur and a crackle of lightning and thunder. everyone looked down at it and me so I tried my best to train both me and my Tobi, it's electric were quite useful when used right and it grew larger and larger.
when it was time to finish our training and take our exam by arena fight Tobi didn't even fit in it so I let her wait outside coiled around the arena. "Anja, why isn't your dragon in the arena?" "Well because she is around the arena." I then whistled for Tobi who rose her head over the arena, blocking the sun for everyone who stared in disbelief.
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Actual_Confusion_517
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roxx-writting
|
2024-04-30 16:39:17
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2024-04-30 13:42:54
| 23 | 11 |
l1ynaib
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l1xswm5
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1cggtbb
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1cggtbb
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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!!“
|
The phone on my desk rang. Naturally, I answered.
"Hello?"
"Press the button!" snapped a stern voice.
I glanced down at the red button built into the top of my desk.
"May I ask who is calling?" I inquired. Not that it mattered -- it could be the President of the United States, I still wasnt pressing that button.
My job description was pretty clear, after all.
*1. You will be assigned to an empty room with a desk and a chair. In the middle of the desk, there will be a large red button.
2. No matter what happens, never press the red button.
3.Do not talk to anyone about your job.*
And I was well paid to do my job -- to do, essentially, nothing. Electronic devices weren't allowed past security, but anything else I wanted to bring in to pass the time while I "worked" was fine; books, magazines, model kits, whatever I liked.
I'd been there just over seven years, and they'd never tested me on it before. I'd never given them reason to doubt me. But today was the day, I supposed.
"There's no time! I'm with the Agency! You have to press the button!"
The Agency? I'd always wondered if this was some kind of secret CIA experiment. Weird, that they'd just come right out and say it after all this time, though. Of course, that didn't matter, either. If they had wanted me to press the button, they should have told me there was some circumstance under which I might have to. Nowhere in rule two did the word "unless" appear.
"Now!" the voice shouted, in mixed anger and desperation.
It occurred to me that if I talked to whomever was testing me long enough, they might trick me into breaking rule three, somehow. So I simply hung up.
A few minutes later, two men in suits entered the room. One of them was my boss. Without a word, he handed me a piece of paper.
It was a termination notice. I was appalled at first...until I noticed the line about severance. And the one about continuing pension and health care benefits. The termination was more like a promotion; I'd get to go from doing essentially nothing, to literally doing nothing at all, and I'd still get paid. It was hard to complain about.
But still, since I was fired anyway, I had to know.
"What does it do?" I asked.
"I can't give you all the details, but...it opens a door." my boss said.
"So...I was just making sure a door didn't open?'
"More like..." he said, pausing to think. "You were actively *not* opening it. That's all I can say."
I nodded. I had no idea what that meant, but I guess I never really expected a straight answer.
I picked up my coat and stood up from my chair. The guy with my boss took my place by the button.
"One thing I don't get." I said, as he began escorting me out. "Why let me go now? I never talked about my job -- and I for damn sure never pressed that button. "
"No." my boss agreed. "But your ability to continue doing your job has been compromised -- it happens sometimes, nothing to be ashamed of. In any case, your problem wasn't rule two, or rule three. *Rule one,* Mr. Stanley."
I furrowed my brow. "But that's just a description of the room, isn't it?"
He nodded, as we approached security.
"You will be assigned to an empty room with a desk and a chair. In the middle of the desk, there will be a large red button," he quoted.
"I don't get it," I admitted.
"An empty room, Mr. Stanley, but for the objects listed."
I was still confused, as we reached security, and I handed over my employee badge to the guard. My former boss walked me past the checkpoint to the exit door.
"I...still don't understand." I admitted, as my ex- employer shook my hand.
"A desk, a chair, and a button."
I blinked.
When he spoke again, his words sent a chill down my spine. "The room you worked in does not now, nor has it ever, contained a telephone."
|
“Press the button! Now!” The voice says. Ingrid stares at the phone, mouth slightly agape. A bat kills her player, but she doesn’t notice the ‘GAME OVER’ screen appear.
There is a thick layer of dust on the phone. Ingrid sneezes.
“What are you waiting for- AH!” The voice trills. The voice screams, quieter now. Ingrid jumps to her feet. The glowing red timer on the wall halts: 6 hours 56.22 seconds remaining. She makes an aborted movement for the large red button on the other end of the room.
Wait. No. What is she thinking?
Ingrid sits back down and smoothes out her uniform. She has a good thing going here. She shows up to “work” for 8 hours a day and can do whatever she likes, as long as she stays seated for 8 hours total, and doesn’t hit the button for any reason. So she will not hit the button for any reason.
“Please!” This time it’s a woman’s voice. Her loud breaths echo through Ingrid’s office. “Y-you need to!” There is a sickening crunch, then all Ingrid can hear is gurgling on the other end.
She looks away from the phone and to the rules posted in large block letters over the button. Rule 3.) Do not talk to anyone about the job.
“I apologize,” Ingrid speaks into the receiver. “I believe you have the wrong number.” She hangs the phone back up with a click.
The silence is unnerving for a moment. Ingrid shakes off the weird feeling and pulls her chair closer to her desk. The game has music, which fills the silence nicely.
Just as her heart rate is beginning to slow, there is a crisp knock at the door. Ingrid whirls around and stares at the offending piece of wood. No one has come to visit her in the two years since she was hired. Hell- she hadn’t ever seen anyone else in the building, much less her office.
Fuck, maybe she was supposed to press the button.
“Come in?” She squeaks.
A man in a suit opens the door. He looks familiar, maybe the man who hired her?
“Congratulations,” he says, readjusting his blood red tie. “You are hired. Please report to this room tomorrow for your real task,” He says. Then, he turns on his heel and is gone.
Real task? God fucking damn it.
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SilasCrane
|
goldenriffraff
|
2023-01-02 20:53:40
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2023-01-02 16:26:55
| 3,584 | 752 |
j2oeqea
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j2n9d2q
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101bwam
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101bwam
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[WP] You, the God of War, are on a rampage across a battlefield. As you face down a terrified army, a small chihuahua charges out from them, and does its' best attempt at a howl at you.
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*What a pitiful excuse for an army.*
Bodies lay scattered about the grassy plane, torn asunder by my might. Mortal men are but wheat to my scythe when they are foolish enough to draw my ire.
*Their rotting corpses would make for a prodigious crop in the coming spring,* I mused.
Lost in my thoughts I no longer felt the pinpricks of mortal steel. I cast my gaze on to their battle’s lines. Rows upon rows of broken men shook and stared in awe up at me.
“One of you Chihuaua’s had the gall to defile my temple and harm my priests and think I would not seek reprisal for this offense.”
I paused scanning the mob before me. Blank faces stared about in confusion as my statement was met with silence. Somewhere deeper in the crowd men wept openly and without shame.
*Their ignorance and weakness will not save them.* I smiled a nasty grin.
“I give whoever did this the opportunity to stand as champion for your people to atone for this grievous offense to me and my pe- “
“IT WAS ME!” Howled a man from somewhere in the crowed. My gaze floated lazily in the direction of his voice. A small man even by the standards of the Chihuaua. He walked, shaking as he did, towards me though he continued to bark as he approached.
“You have no power here! We are followers of the Shelar and your worshipers have no place here!” The crowd seemed to take some courage from his words and started yelling in unison with him.
“NO POWER!”
“SHELAR WILL PROTECT US!”
And on and on it went.
They prostrated themselves calling to their God to save them, tore at there clothes and debased themselves in a most unhuman manner. Unfortunately for them Shelar knew where they stood in the pantheon and had decided well before I took to the field to cut their losses.
A pity really, it’d been too long since I’d fought another God.
I grew tired of this spectacle and in one swift movement took the small man up by his neck and lifted him to look at his people. He would bear witness to what I was capable.
“You and your people bark and howl like wolves, but when it comes time to bear your fangs you whimper like lambs at the slaughter.” I whispered in the ear of the man. “You people thought yourself large and beyond my reach, and for your folly I will make you small and despised among the tribes of men.”
With a wave of my hand the masses of men before me changed, growing smaller and the mass weeping slowly turned slowly into snarls and yips. As I walked through the crowd of small dogs, they parted ways in fear but continued to snarl.
I threw the man to the ground and turned my back and started walking back into the space between worlds leaving him with a few last parting words.
“They will say of the Chihuaua that they are all bark and no bite.”
|
The minuscule canid attempted to howl at me and I heard its call as though spoken words. "Come no closer, we love our master, I am as big as you." In all my years of battlefields, there are only two things that have ever given me pause. The first is when terrified troops shove down their fear and spend their precious lives, all to buy time for a general they love. The second is when dogs are equally fearless. You see, when a general's troops love them more than life, when even their pets are willing to risk life and limb on their behalf, those are good people. And I don't rampage to end good people. Sometimes I take those lives. Every single one of them hurts, but then I _am_ the horrors of war. It isn't a good job. It isn't a nice job. And you can be sure that I'm not a force of good or niceness. All that said, I've still never been able to let myself hurt a dog who was that bold, that willing to scream into the storm and bid the winds calm. Another day, another time, I will claim your general little Chihuahua, but not today. Today, your love and fearlessness bought her another battle before the end. Good dog.
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TheCatMeows13
|
AlloyedClavicle
|
2023-01-19 00:13:46
|
2023-01-18 23:17:59
| 25 | 18 |
j4xqxwh
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j4xiu0i
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10fkadm
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10fkadm
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[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?"
|
A hush grew across the bar, the chatter and clinking falling to a whisper before fading altogether. Eyes swept toward the door and gazed upon the figure who commanded their silence. Rocket Man. The beloved hero of their metropolitan city stood like an obelisk, gripping the door frame as he pierced into everyone’s very mind and soul. A fire burned from within him, baring teeth from a clenched jaw. No one dared utter a word, not even a cough.
Rocket Man grabbed an empty chair resting by the door and smashed it into the wall. Splinters and wood flew like shrapnel from a grenade. The closest patrons shielded their faces and coward from the explosion that echoed throughout. The rest of the crowd had stiffened, reflexively leaning away from the door and it’s hostile force. Still only silence remained, the patrons had fallen into a wordless obedience. They knew who top dog was and while they all could maybe jump him together, no one wanted to test an enraged Rocket Man and be one of the many casualties that would most definitely be created.
“I let you bastards exist out of kindness and decency!” Rocket Man bellowed to the room in a manor unbefitting. Everyone present has heard him get angry and upset before… but not this.
“R-rocky, we don’t know wh-“
Before finishing another word, Rabid Bitch was lifted into the air by her throat. She started to cough and wheeze, desperately trying to claw at the arm of Rocket before he drove her into the table she sat at just seconds before. The table cracked under the force and caused one of its legs to snap. It fell to the side and so too did Rabid, rolling onto the floor. She gasped for air as a few close by flew toward her and helped get her to her feet.
“Not. One. **WORD.** From any of you unless it’s a confession or information. **WHO?! FUCKING WHO?!**”
The villains remained in a silence, but their eyes darted between one another. *What happened? Had anyone heard anything? Someone must have bragged about something, right?* All these thoughts and many like them swam through the minds of all present. Whatever it was, it was big and bad. Someone did something to warrant this much rage from the hero, but what? And equally important, who?
A shuffle from the back. Another. And another. Small steps as someone tried to slowly and quietly fade further and further into the background. A couple from the back started to notice. And then more. And more. Heads started to turn and look at a lone individual. Rocket noticed this. As his gaze met the sneak in the back, he bolted for the back door. The jets on Rocket Man’s jet pack ignited into a high pitched roar, sending him sailing into the air above the crowd and directly into the runner. His arms outstretched as he reached his target, grabbing them and bulldozing them through the back door and into the air. Higher he flew as he stared the very intent of death into his captive. A relatively new villain to the scene, Boulder. He should have absolutely learned the rules of engagement by now.
As they rise higher into the night sky, Boulder sniveled and cried as he clung to Rocket Man for dear life. The horror and fear flushed every other thought out of his mind. He croaked out something as their ascent came to a halt, several hundred meters in the air.
“P-p-please! I-I-I-I did-dn’t kn-n-n-now!”
His helmet hid every expression, but Boulder felt the malicious force emanating out from within that very helm. He cried out, begging and pleading for Rocket to understand, show compassion and mercy. He’ll take himself in! He’ll resign immediately! He’ll abandon everything and leave! Anything!
All fell on deaf ears.
“The rules exist for a reason, Boulder. Not to keep things fair, not to have honor or respect. They exist because I *own* you. You are *my* playthings. And when someone strays from that path..”
Rocket Man released his grip.
“They’re not worth playing with.”
|
(Recommended listening before reading this: [This is how villains are made](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=plPtZPem94o) by Madalen Duke)
Gravel crunched beneath his boots as he made his way through the Downs. Before his red tinted vision, a familiar sign winked at him. *Gormenghast*.
Someone was voiding whatever poisons they'd used the last of the hard earned slip to purchase into a nearby gutter. He barely noticed it as one of his hounds boiled out from beneath the shadows of his cloak and bore the unfortunate man into the dark recesses of a nearby alley way.
There were no screams. And even if there had been, he wouldn't have noticed.
In his hands, grasped withing the rictus of a bloodied fist, a tattered handkerchief barely fluttered as he arrived beneath the neon monstrosity and looked up.
The shadows beneath him roiled in response to his emotions; a question asked by the masses that normally lay dormant within. Nails biting into his fist, he marveled at how easily an answer was given. His shadows boiled out into the streets and alleyways of the Downs, a torrent of fur, teeth and ill will. He found himself snickering darkly as he pushed his way in through the nondescript door and made his way down the stairs.
*All it took was one really bad day, eh?*
The screams all along the quarter begun in earnest, though they were drowned out by the sound of the blood pounding in his ears and the thrum of music rising from behind the heavy steel door that he'd descended to.
He didn't even recall how the two bouncers normally stationed there has come to find themselves slumped against the graffiti-ed walls with their necks ripped open. With a gesture, two of his hounds made short work of the door, barreling into it with enough force to crack the plaster around it and bear it into the pulsating lights and sounds of the infamous drinking hole.
The music didn't even skip a beat as every eye in the establishment turned to take him in.
*Wonder what I look like right now*. He wondered as the questions reached a fever pitch, and every shadow in the room shifted to pool at his feet.
*Doesn't matter anymore.* He snapped his finger and gave his reply. *Eat.*
|
wheresmythermos
|
Visible-Ad8263
|
2024-10-17 15:12:04
|
2024-10-17 15:05:12
| 77 | 41 |
lsdhna0
|
lsdgcz6
|
1g5kua3
|
1g5kua3
|
[WP] "The human engineer costs HOW MUCH?" the captain was shocked. "Well, the human's rate itself is cheap. I'm including a week's worth of food. They're ludicrously expensive to maintain, but I'll be damned before I board a ship WITHOUT a human crew as well," said the broker.
|
"There is no way I am wasting half my profits in one human, even if it's an engineer!" Exclaimed the captain. His indignation was patent.
"I see, captain. But you fail to see the long term savings and thus the long term profits.". Tchel knew she could broker a deal by appealing to the legendary greed of captain Dole.
"Let us say that you rather go for a Limt engineer. A tenth of the price, I agree. But when the first critical failure appears in your screen what will it say? It will require the best materials, and won't accept any single cable that hasn't been approved by the Quality Committee of the galaxy. Even if that means leaving the ship stranded until a rescue mission reach you with the required stuff. Standard cycles wasted mean money lost, you see."
Captain Dole inclined his mass forward, apparently intrigued. The argument seems to be working, thought Tchel.
"A human engineer will look at the screen, and device at least three plans to fix the failure with materials that are laying around in the ship. Sometimes even using stuff you didn't even though that could be used to repair such critical failure, and for a fraction of the cost.
I saw it once in a tourist ship that lost steering in transit to Alon-7. The captain was preparing the evacuation and asked us to meet on the main dock, when the human engineer came with a smile on her face"
-"A... Smile?"
"Yes, you know, when they bare their teeth and the lips point sort of upwards. It means happiness, or glee, or a positive attitude"
-"How could she be so happy in the face of an evacuation?"
"I wondered the same. She said she had found a whole box of something she called duct tape in the bottom of a deposit and if anyone could lower her to the steering axle she could try to mend it enough for the ship to reach the nearest port. She also said that she didn't know there was duct tape available in this side of the galaxy."
-"And what happened? The captain must have told her that it was suicide!". Captain Dole exclaimed, retracting his mass back to the chair.
"Of course he protested. But when other three humans said that they volunteered to help the engineer, he saw it was pointless to argue. The humans went to one of the maintenance ports and put on the external walk suits, and then boarded a tiny shuttle. Then they flew out of the ship and towards the steering axle.
I was convinced I had just watched four humans commit suicide. The captain was dumbfounded when, a short period later a message came through the communicator. Not only were they alive, but the engineer asked the captain to please try to move the steering wheel and see if it reacted.
Oh, you cannot imagine how relieved we were when the ship tilted to the right as the captain pushed the wheel. We heard the engineer again, asking if the captain could please move the wheel to the left as the engineer needed to patch a hole that wasn't reachable when the axle was out of order.
That engineer was received as a hero by the crew and the tourists, and went on to receive a medal of honor by the Government."
Captain Dole seemed to be slightly less interested. I had to refocus him pronto.
"Just compare the costs. A whole tourist cruise, merchandise, food, water, Nitrogen for the non-oxigen organisms, travel guarantees, the occasional legal suits from the less robust clients.... Those exceed the cost of a single human engineer and would have driven the company to the ruin. Instead of that, all the ships that were known to have a human in the crew saw their business increase exponentially. Tourists like to visit the confines of the galaxy, but they like even more getting back to their homes safe and in one piece. And a human is as much of a guarantee as we can offer.
Let me rephrase it. Yes, the human is expensive now. But in the long term you will be saving money in repairs and increasing your profits from all the tourists that know that your ship will take them on vacation and more importantly back home safe. Consider it an investment".
Captain Dole's mass seemed to relax. "Very well, I'll take the human. Have a pleasant cycle". He stood up and went out of the office.
Tchel felt relieved. Is not easy dealing with the Snøl. But thank the gods their greed proved an useful tool. She took a sip of her water bottle and sat down to find the most appropriate human engineer to assign to Dole's cruise.
-------
Mandatory I wrote this on my phone, please excuse any typos
|
Kubernetes never understood the appeal of peanuts, water, and beer or why humans clung so desperately to them. Maybe their fragrance allured the chimps. It'd never know as it couldn't smell itself. Though it could see, and from its mechanical view, humans were full of shit.
It counted the last of the cargo room's inventory, burned the data into its internal hard drive, and made way to the ship's bridge. There, it would ensure the navigation system was operational and avoiding collisions with stars-or worse, planets- and could indulge in its secret pastime, stargazing.
An automation enjoying the spectacle of stars was unheard of, only because it kept the hobby a secret. Its fellow machines were hibernating, as was the resident human. Why the flesh sake required daily hibernation, it'd never know, it's not like the human did anything.
Engineers got one over on us, it thought as the doors to the bridge opened. Pitch blackness engulfed the room, but a thin glimmer of light shifted upon its entry. Shifted, and approached. If Kubernetes possessed a heart, it would have burst. It shone a light from its eye socket to reveal a lanky human devouring a bag of potato chips.
The human smacked and slobbed. Kubernetes thanked the robo creators it couldn't smell; surely the human smelled of fecal matter. It retreated, pulled a moist towelette from its chest cavity, and whirred toward the bay windows of the bridge.
Footsteps grew louder behind it, as did the human's voice as it said, "What's up, boss?"
"Have you performed maintenance on all the stand-by units? We need everything in order when the expedition starts."
"Expo isn't for four months, five depending on Neptune's weather. Due later, do later," it said with a shrug.
Kubernetes would sigh if it could. "No, do now and do again later."
"Due now and do later?"
Humans truly ground the gears, and the joke of that was not lost to Kubernetes. It'd long decided it would find whichever human programmed such jokes into it, and personally escort that person to robot hell. It could scream into the abyss of viruses and trojan horses for all eternity. This human could too, with its ignorance.
A green light shone within Kubernetes, and the whirring of printed material ensured. It reached into its chest cavity and pulled out a wad of pale green bills. The human's eyes grew large as it took the money and said, "Well, maybe I ought to check in on those standbys, make sure they're straight for the mission. You know I do everything for the mission," and dismissed itself.
As the flesh bag pranced out of the room, Kubernetes pondered how trivial human motivation was. Also, how long would it be before the human realized that form of currency was useless, simply a product of an uncivilized time.
|
Rakothurz
|
intheweebcloset
|
2023-01-07 13:33:16
|
2023-01-07 06:02:32
| 106 | 67 |
j3bxeee
|
j3awm7c
|
1058kxb
|
1058kxb
|
[WP] "God can come have coffee with me if he's really interested." You said, shutting the door on some irritating guys with pamphlets. The very next day, God taps lightly on your door, to have a coffee.
|
“I swear if it’s those Mormons again..”
I open the door to a radiant woman standing there peacefully, almost angelic and cloaked in white.
“Oh. Hello.” It’s hard to hide my surprise.
“So I heard you wanted to talk?” She said, her voice like a symphony. “I brought the coffee.”
She materialized two mugs of coffee in her hands instantly, “Just cream, right?”
No words could find their way to my mouth, just a little nod with my jaw frozen mid-air.
She hands me the mug as she walks past me—still gawking.
“Nice view!” She says as she effortlessly sails over to the couch facing the ocean.
A quick slap hits the inside of my skull as I watch her.
“Eyes up, boy.” She says without even turning her head before taking a seat.
I rub my head while walking over to sit in the chair across from her, still trying to shape words.
“Okay, this is actually going to be even more fun than I thought” she says with a smile as I sit down with intense focus, only able to get out a chesty “uhhhm.”
“Didn’t think I’d be a woman, did ya?” Her smile growing a little more.
“I had a clue, but wasn’t sure.” I finally spit out.
“I know. I just wanted to see your response.” She leans back a little, “I’ve sent you a lot of clues, you know.”
Suddenly so many moments where I’ve had little passing contemplations, or marveled in nature, or have been utterly hypnotized by women, and thoughtful of mothership came flooding in.
“Yeah, and there were even more than that.” She said with a sip, “I’ve had my eye on you for a while actually. It’s about time you asked me out.”
“Excuse me?”
“Do you remember that crazy MDMA trip you had, years ago?” She leaned forward a bit, a little more serious.
Suddenly the forgotten trip hit me like an anvil.
“Yeah, I had went to the astral plane and then—wait, that was YOU?”
Her eyes lit up, “I can’t believe you forgot. I didn’t quite have this body yet though. I actually just made it specially for this.”
The world started spinning around me, a little bit of coffee spilled on my shirt before she waved the mug into the air.
“Thanks.” I muttered, while a million thoughts raced through my head and then started shaking my chest like an invisible seizure.
“Am I dreaming, or tripping, or dead or something?” I said, grabbing my head with both hands and staring at the shifting floor.
She knelt down in front of me to meet my eyes—I didn’t even hear her move.
My nausea went away as soon as I actually noticed how beautiful she was, and how much love she held in her eyes.
She took my hand in hers, and I noticed over her shoulder that both of our mugs were on the coffee table already.
“I just can’t believe this is happening.” I tell her plainly.
“I didn’t think it ever would.” She said softly, “I can’t tell you how long I’ve waited for someone like you.”
“Like me?”
She said nothing, but gazed into my soul with the depths and patience of infinity.
Like magnets we drew closer.
Until our lips finally met with what felt like a flash of lightning.
And that kids, is how I met your mother.
|
"Hello?"
"Oh hey, Deaf Bard. It's me."
"Heyyyyyy...?"
"...God."
"..."
"Yeah, remember yesterday? The asshole jerkwads with the pamphlets?"
"I---"
"I know, terrible, right? But I was juuust happening a-by, and caught a bit of the convo, so."
"Wait, do---"
"And I get it, I get it. To be fair, they kinda slipped under the wire under a technicality. Ooh, I love your mud room!"
"Oh, uh, thank you. Come on in, yeah, have a seat..."
"No need for the tour, I'm familiar with the place. So... you play by ear, that kind of thing?"
"Uh, no I---"
"No worries, mate. I'm happy you invited me over, it's been a haute hot hee-haw-hawt minute or two since I have a bean-me-up-Scotty."
"Sure, that's fine. I'm just going to pop in the back and--"
"Deebee?"
"...y-yeah?"
"Come on."
"What?"
"Dude. You ran out yesterday. Drank the last right after those tit-bits showed up and left, and even giggled about your comment after you downed yourself some dregs."
"That... I'm going---"
"Sure, sure, that's fine, I'm just busting your balls. Just a busty, Krusty Krab."
"Oh my Go--"
"Watch it..."
"...thanks for understanding. Man, I feel just awful about that."
"Oh, no worries, Sweet Deebs. I'm more of a stoner chick."
"A... a stoner chick?"
"Yessss, yes-yes-yes-yes. Just a slob like one of you, eh? Kurasawa and kief, let's get kraken."
|
WhatsGoingggOn
|
THIS_IS_GOD_TOTALLY_
|
2023-03-21 06:44:46
|
2023-03-20 23:40:58
| 44 | 11 |
jd1ycac
|
jd0mtbl
|
11wsrfi
|
11wsrfi
|
[WP] Everyone gets a blessing from a god on their 18th birthday, today is your 18th birthday and you receive a blessing from an ancient thought to be dead god.
|
I lie around my domain, drifting through various states of sleep and boredom. Something I had done for many millenia now since my presence was no longer constantly needed with that pantheon of hundreds of thousands of gods which take care of the needs of those in the mortal realm. I still remember some of my days from when I roamed the world helping people almost every second of every day. But now mostly my spirit or being was all that was left affecting the world and plunging said world into a darkness every day or well night I suppose as it is called by the mortals.
I never really showed any interest in anything concerning the current pantheon or the affairs in the mortal world. Most of my interactions having turned into myself watching or listening to them from afar. With the most interesting things being the rumors of gods and men that I had perished because of my growing abscence and a new tradition of the gods giving those mortal reaching 18 years of age a boon or blessing of sorts. An honestly besides the hilarity of the rumors, the latter was a great idea, instead of constantly being asked for help they now could just give the people some power to help themselves and be done with it. It was effective, simple, and really intresting as it caused great things to happen in the mortal world which I loved watching now that they were mostly independant.
With the current state of things I was almost obsessed with them and their actions but nothing ever lasted long with their short life span, a shame since I enjoyed many of their wacky adventures which I never could imagine happening. The most tragic thing was always getting atached to one of them and them seeing them slowly pass away over time, wether sickness, age, or maybe even an abrupt accident ending their already short lives. It never felt good as I genuinely cared about many of them feeling as though I was a part of their adventures despite watching from far beyond. And then I had an idea which took me some planning to put into action but I soon had found a way and was more than willing of putting myself back out there if it would succeed.
---
Silvan walked up onto the magic circle and briefly gave a prayer before the priest began the spell to catch the attention of the gods willing to grant him a blessing. The circle and runes on the ground began glowing and gently move around in slow orderly patterns and movements. After a few seconds the glow and movement stopped catching the attention of everyone in the room as ritual was not yet completed as no gods had appeared or spoken. The mild curiosity and confusion was soon replaced by fear and a feeling of dread as the glow was now replaced by an unnatural darkness which flowed from the sigils and runes instead of the usual light.
It gathered above floating aimlessly in a formless mass of seemingly pure darkness before descending and writhing around for a brief moment changing its own shape. Slowly taking form andbecoming more humanoid with each second before the transformation comes to a stop with a young looking man standing before Silvan. White haired, pale skin, red and black eyes, and a black suit covering their entire body, the man briefly looked down at themselves and moved around a little as if checking what movement was possbile. *"Man, it has been quite a long time since I had taken this form."* They proclaimed cheerily before turning to look at Silvan who by now realised that the summoning ritual had worked ant that the man before him was a god who answered the call.
Although there was something off about them their appearance he had never seen a god like this before, and had certainly never heard of such a strange way of appearing. *"You're an interesting one..."* The man said suddenly much closer to Silvan who was shocked by the sudden unseen movement. The man moved around Silvan looking him up and down with a hand on their chin and a smile on their face as they did. *"...quite perfect for me."* They returned to their original position but this times holding their hands up high, shaking them and giving an even bigger smile. Silvan was curious at this statement and wanted to ask but was cut off by the man before he could even make a sound. *"I'll grant you one of these blessings as those 'youngling' gods call them and all you have to do is live your life how you want, that sound good?"*
|
It was supposed to be a semi-casual day.
After all, everyone gets a blessing from a god on their 18th birthday, so mine wouldn't be that special.
At best, if it's a really popular God, I might get good job offers on my planet or from others, but that's all...
Until my blessing came, when I was in the garden helping mom, as a pillar of amethyst, and ruby blasted everything around me.
The skies darkened, and the winds picked up.
A gentle voice whispered to me, but later on I was told it thundered across the entire globe.
"Take my, Chaos' blessing, Chosen One.", it said, before I fainted.
When I woke up, I was in my bed, with Mom, who got a blessing from Aphrodite, and dad, who had a blessing from Asclepios looking over me.
My big sis, whom got a blessing from Brigid, stared at me, with her usual: "dumb brother" stare, and sighed.
"You know what you caused?", she asked.
I just shook my head weakly.
"You, shook the entire planet, dumbo...", she sighed.
"H-how?", I asked.
"You got a blessing, from a Goddess who was supposed to be dead.", she continued, and I simply blanked out.
When I came to my senses again, it was day...again.
My mom was next to me, cutting up some apples.
"You got lucky son.", she said, looking at me.
"How so...?", I asked.
"You got the blessing of Chaos'.", she simply stated, as if I would know what that means.
"Yes?", I said.
She chuckled.
"Before everything, there was nothing, and in that nothing Chaos ruled.
Out of Chaos' boredom, reality was born, and from that came everything else...", she hummed, as if saying a nursery rhyme.
I just stared at her.
"Eat, sleep, and we will talk when you will feel better.
Your blessing seems to be a bit to strong for the present, you.", she said.
I nodded, and did as told, taking me an entire week before I could walk out of my room.
When I finally managed to come downstairs, and into the living room, I could see great movement outside our window...
"Are they...?", I asked.
"Stalkers who want to talk to you? Yeah.", my sis said.
"Why?", I asked.
"You are really that dumb? "Why?", I don't know, maybe because you got the blessing of the most ancient Goddess of them all?", she rolled her eyes.
I coughed wryly...
"Son...you know that from now on, everything will change.
Your blessings makes it so that you will be sought after by everyone, and will be in the center of every storm...", my dad said.
"Yeah, after all son, you know what you can do with your blessing, don't you?", my mother smiled at me.
I nodded.
"Anything, and everything...", I muttered, as I started to plan my conversations in my head, hoping that my future will be peaceful, but considering my patron Goddess, the chances are slim...
|
Null_Project
|
TheWanderingBook
|
2024-07-19 17:22:51
|
2024-07-19 14:27:08
| 41 | 18 |
ldyixcu
|
mwrr9an
|
1e72dus
|
1l6syow
|
[WP] A human ship activated its self destruct sequence when boarded by an enemy, when humanity was asked why would we do such a thing by the galactic community, we simply responded "We don't give up the ship, such as the crews of old. We never give up the ship."
|
“Ambassador Kowalski, you are summoned to explain the violation of Kve'va'laor treaty committed on board of the human vessel Wanderer,” the Va'llaor member of the Council boomed from all three resonator chambers protruding from the tentacle mass he was made of.
“Thank you, most esteemed councillor,” said the human after a quick glance at his wrist. “I would gladly accept Roalan Empire's formal apology on behalf of-”
“Apology?” Spat the overgrown lizard. “Your vessel refused to surrender when rightfully boarded then detonated its reactor, costing the life of five hundred proud Roalan Corsairs. You-”
“This meeting,” interrupted an overly coloured floating jellyfish, “is to determine the humanity's punishment for the violation. We understand that humanity may have a hard time adjusting to the civilised society of starfarers, but our community must stay civilized. And it will stay civilized. One way or another.”
The human glanced at his wrist again, then tapped it in a mostly arythmic pattern.
“Most esteemed councillors, I believe there had been a great misunderstanding. The humanity agreed to join your community to avoid the bloodshed, not formalize it. Our traditions, however alien they may seem, are far from barbaric. We would have been willing to write this incident off as a misunderstanding, despite the thousands of weeping families our departed had left behind. However, my belief that a reasonable resolution of this affair can be achieved is wavering in face of your unsupportive attitude.”
A ruckus raised near the chamber's entrance, caused by a Roalan in very ceremonial armour trying to push thorough the sentry droids.
“You mud-eating scum, you will not be addressing-” the other lizard barked.
“I think you should let your messenger in, esteemed councilor. I'd hate to interfere in your... traditional chain of command, and deprive the messenger of the honour of being the first to deliver you information of the most recent developments.”
The lizard choke on its anger, but waved the newcomer forward. It fell on its knees in front of the council dias, breathing heavy through all four nostrils.
“My liege, the Crown of Kha'Anadar had been attacked.” It announced, before collapsing on the ground. Despite all their brutality, Roalans weren't well-evolved to running.
All three councilors froze in shock.
“Now,” continued the human, “as you sure have realized, your royal vessel did not self-destruct. And the humanity will happily demonstrate why it should have. I expect to have a new treaty presented to me in the next hour of human standard time - I'm sure your assistants will be happy to translate it to whatever units you're more familiar with. And in case any of you get any ideas...” He trailed off, lifting a plate on his environmental suit, exposing a tiny antimatter reactor. “I hope I won't have to explain how any personal attacks on my person would end. Good day to you, esteemed councilors.”
|
Humanity proved itself by the galactic community that they were the most advanced and desired the galaxy for itself. They attacked and used aggressive diplomacy when necessary. A galactic council of the most strongest nations made a unanimous decision to attack the nation known to human eyes and ears as “United states of earth. This coalition realized that open engagement such as in alpha centari would be catastrophic and thus simple hit and run tactics would suffice. One universal cycle later and they encountered a Earth scout ship and ambushed it. They planned on taking them alive for questioning and possible peace negotiations but when the galactic forces infiltrated the ship, the ship exploded killing everyone on board. They galactic community was shocked by the news that the Earthlings rather killed themselves than be captured. Why did a diplomat ask, the earthling diplomat responded with “it’s cheaper to get a new soldier then negotiate and rehabilitate a POW, what are we animals.” Everyone knew that the earthlings did not fool themselves of this conquest of the galaxy of noble intent, the rulers of earth as later revealed by Galactic spies ran out of means to exploit their planet and went on to continue the cycle of exploitation and conquest until of course, it no longer became profitable.
|
FowlPS
|
Nature_Walking
|
2023-05-02 10:43:34
|
2023-05-02 01:15:20
| 288 | 45 |
jijp4t5
|
jii9vhf
|
1354r1x
|
1354r1x
|
[WP] Humans make a deal with you, and you "accidentally" give them a way to get out at the end of the contract. you've been doing this for quite a while, but now a human is doing their best to pay the cost. Ignoring, or perhaps not seeing, the solutions you're leaving for them.
|
Humans are funny creatures. They have a knack of making everything about themselves, and feeling immense pride in themselves over things they *think* was their doing. Case in point - my soul contracts all contain a clause that states the soul collection will only take place after the task is fully completed - and if it isn't completed within 10 years, the contract will be considered voided, and any contractual obligations on either side will cease. So, naturally, they'll find ways to keep making the task unending - an additional 'thing' that needs completing after everything is seemingly already done. And those clumsy idiots think they're the genius for coming up with it, too.
And a second example - contractually, if the human falls sick before the soul can be harvested, I must wait until the human is in complete health once more before I can get the soul, where if a human doesn't get better within 6 months, the soul is considered tarnished and unavailable for harvesting. Again, they think they're so clever running around with snotty noses and headaches. As if I was completely unaware of their schemes.
Since I get their souls after their natural deaths anyway (part of the demon-undertaker agreement), I let them believe they actually got away with their 'loopholes'. It's free entertainment. Who says no to that?
Except this lady right here.
"Are you absolutely sure you have nothing else you want me to do?" I asked, for the sixth time.
The woman narrowed her eyes at me. "No. I'm ready."
"All you had me do up till now is burn a bridge and ruin some poor sucker's life. If you want to go down the vengeance route, there's still plenty of stuff I can do."
"No, thank you. Let's begin."
I was perplexed.
"You sure you're feeling okay? Have you been at the psychiatrist's lately? You know I can't-"
"I've had myself checked, twice. Mentally as well. Everything's normal, so you're good to go."
"Look, lady, we still have 9 years left. I'm not going to harvest your soul if you're feeling suicidal. Trust me, neither of us is going to enjoy that."
"Well, I'm not. So tell me what you need me to do and we are good to go."
We stood there in silence. She had her arms crossed and was tapping her foot, as if impatient to start. For the life of me, I had no clue what was going on.
Finally, I sighed and sat down. "Okay, I seriously don't know what your deal is here. Why are you so intent on getting your soul harvested now?"
"Why are you so intent on *not* harvesting it? Aren't you a demon? Isn't it your food?"
"Please, 'demons eating souls for food' was abolished years ago. It's actually a little hurtful now. Just because we aren't technically alive, and therefore don't eat food, doesn't mean we can magically inhale souls."
"Uh huh. And you really think I'm going to trust you now?"
And then it clicked.
"Is that's what this is all about? You don't trust me?" I asked. "You don't trust me to actually leave you be without consequences?"
She gave me a steely look.
This was honestly a new one for me. I have never dealt with a human with trust issues before... I mean... What are they expecting could be worse than dying?
"Okay then. Point taken - what will it get for you to trust me, then? Do you want me to just... Walk away? Sign another contract stating the old one is now void?"
She shook her head, and then sat down next to me. "I don't want anything. I don't care. I just - Please. Just take it. Take everything, and let's be done with it."
No. There must be more to this than just 'trust issues'.
We sat in silence. I looked around our surroundings as I wondered how to react.
We were sitting by the river on a park bench - it was honestly one of the more peaceful days, the setting sun basking everything in a golden light. I could see why humans liked their walks so much. There was a lot of beauty in the simple things.
"I was sitting here just like I am now when I noticed him." She finally said softly.
I looked to her. The hard look she had about her softened; she now looked... Defeated, or resigned. I couldn't tell. She wasn't looking at me anymore. She was staring at her feet, making patters in the dirt with her shoes.
"I was reading, I think. I looked up to see him staring at me. I thought I was seeing things, so I tried to return to what I was doing. But when I looked up again - he was still staring straight at me."
She now raised her head and directed her eyes towards the right to the path - following her line of sight, I saw another park bench a few meters away. I could imagine that was where she saw whoever it was.
"I was uncomfortable, so I got up, and started walking home. I could tell he started following me. So I sped up - I heard him speed up too. And then... when I got to the bridge, he..."
She wasn't able to continue. She suddenly started shaking, and balled herself up, as if the memories themselves were too horrific to relive. And as I heard her story - I started to understand.
"The bridge you had me destroy... Was that-?"
I could just tell her nodding her head from between her knees.
"And... The man's life I was to ruin..."
"He is no man." She said, in a voice quivering with rage. "*You* are more of a man than he could ever be."
I didn't know what to say. In the long history of soul contracts I've had... This was a first for me. And I was speechless. This wasn't part of my job agenda. This wasn't something I could help her with.
"What about your family? Friends?" I asked.
She didn't reply. I heard quiet sobs instead.
I was stumped.
I wasn't the most empathetic demon out there. But still... Contract or not, it felt *wrong* to have her leave this world having her last memories be of something so dreadful. Maybe I could figure out a way to get people close to her? Someone who actually knows what to do?
I tried to get up, figure a way out of this, but as I was readying to do so - a hand caught my arm.
I turned and saw her tear-stained face staring straight at me. Her eyes were filled with fear and dread.
"Please... Stay." She whispered. "Don't... Please don't leave me."
So I did. She had stopped crying by now. After I relaxed on the bench again, she looked away from me.
I never really understood human emotions. I didn't know why they do half the things they did. For some reason, she wanted me to stay. Why me? I didn't know. What I did know was I felt obligated to help. Wether that was the working of the contract, or my own self... I couldn't tell.
Perhaps I didn't need to understand. Or perhaps I would one day. What I did know, was that for now, I was sitting next to this very complex creature, watching the sun slowly disappear beyond the horizon.
As the last rays of sunlight gave way to the night, I said one word.
"Okay."
|
I AM THE GENIE OF THE LAMP. And I’m bored. It’s been 300 years since my brother wished me in here to save me from the plague that hit our town (his fault) and gain everlastiiiinnnnggggg liiiiifffeeeeuuuuhhh.
Everlasting life is, predominantly, everlasting periods of lounging in an alternate universe OF MY CREATION and waiting for somebody to rub me out. You think you have problems. Granted, I’m never hungry. Never cold. Never die. I live in an absolute palace but do you hear that bonging when I knock on the walls? Pure lamp. Can’t change the drapes.
Martha Stewart can back me up. A prison’s a prison, no matter what you hang to make it more “homey”.
You know what really sucks about the lamp? It seeks out good, kind people who are struggling with terrible life circumstances. I mean, it singles them out for the torment of a granted wish. It’s written right on the side, for anyone who happens to read 17th century Arabic. “Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it.”
I get poor people off the streets and make them very rich! I get barren women pregnant! I heal the sick and the blind and the lame!!!! And there’s always a cost. It turns out, the Universe doesn’t give anything away for free. Nothing.
So, I give them a way out. A little shadow whispers in their ear. They find a clue. A note. Anything to get them out of this wish-prison we’re both trapped in, one of us for ALL OF ETERNITY.
Sorry about that echo. Occupational hazard.
It was all going along just fine, until this last guy. Washington Richardson Jackson, the man with 3 last names. He has everything. You wouldn’t even believe he was on the streets 3 months ago, and the redacted history of his life the wish created certainly won’t tell you.
Me? I was rattling around the lamp for almost 2 decades with not much to do but play Atari when he came along and rubbed me out. The lamp had settled in a random alley between a homeless shelter and a Soup Shop. It smelled like savoury broth and urine in (unfortunately) equal amounts. I had to breathe through my eyes, it was that bad.
The man holding onto my lamp like he thought it would keep him from falling was tall and bulky with an overbite that could have cut glass. He looked up at me, grand apparition though I was, with hazy, wet eyes. People have a lot of reactions when they first see me. Gasp. Scream. Run. The whole pyrotechnics and smoke effect is pretty exciting, sure… but Washington isn’t like other folks. He just looked up at me towering over him in all my gold-braceleted impressiveness like he’d never seen a more ordinary person in his life and said, I kid you not, he said:
“Excuse me?”
I was like “Yes, Master?”
As that is the pre-programmed response.
He goes; “I’m Washington. Washington Richardson Jackson. You can remember it, on account of I got 3 last names. You know who else got 3 last names?”
“No.”
“Me, neither.”
I waited.
“So I guess since you came outta that lamp, you can tell me something about it?”
“I was about to, when you said ‘excuse me’. I have a whole shpiel. I was going to say I AM THE GENIE OF TH—“
He cut me off. Honestly, the gall.
He flapped his hand in the air at me. Yeah. Like this. Like HE was dismissing ME.
“Yeah that’s good awesome great but do you know if the lamp you came out of is gold? Like, pure gold?”
“I….what?”
“You know, like, it’s an artifact or sum right? So it’s gotta be real?”
“I’m sorry. A person just leaped forth from this lamp trailing primordial smoke and you’re asking me what this lamp is MADE OF?!?”
He ran a hand over his sweaty brow, panting from the effort of existing. “Yeah. Do you think I can get money for it?”
I slapped my forehead with my palm. “Do I think you can get money for a MAGIC LAMP with an ACTUAL GENIE inside?”
He slid down the alley wall, draping both arms over his considerable forehead. “You don’t, do you? Ah, it’s just my stupid luck.”
The guy just found a genie, and he was on about his bad luck. Complete monotone. Tears in his eyes. “I won the lottery. Wow, I have the worst luck.”
I considered just letting him sell me. I don’t know what happens if the wisher never wishes.
I’d probably end up trapped outside the lamp forever, but hey. That wasn’t so bad. And I’d never have to grant another wish. I’d be a useless artifact. A total dud. What was the risk, really?
“I wish genies were actually real.”
“Did you say, I w—“
“….but you’re just a hallucination. I could really sell that lamp if you were real.”
I closed my eyes. Took a deep breath. Counted to ten.
“What are you on, Washington?”
He chuckled to himself, a thin and mirthful snort. “Just everything.”
Eyes. Breath. Ten. Maybe I could do him some good.
“Don’t you WISH you could stay off drugs? Clean up your life? Maybe get a place to live?”
He looked at me like I had just lost my ever loving mind (or he had just lost his glasses) and rolled his eyes. As if he possessed some depth of knowledge I couldn’t possibly understand.
….to be continued in whatever free time I find.
|
NikiTheBlob
|
catniagara
|
2023-01-12 19:18:43
|
2023-01-12 13:35:52
| 44 | 31 |
j42mam9
|
j415d7e
|
109wolf
|
3futyn
|
[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...
|
“FREAK!!!”
It was a name that she was used to hearing thrown her way. Sometimes it was uttered as an insult, and other times, it said out of fear and horror. Even her parents thought the same of her. While they have not hurled such insults and names at her as other people did, she could see the look of fear and concern in their eyes, and she knew. She knew all too well what they thought of her.
They were terrified of her. And when one lived in a quiet suburban town, word spread quickly.
All her life, she felt like she did not belong anywhere. At school her teachers walked on eggshells around her. Meanwhile, her classmates gave her as much space as she needed. Shoppers steered clear of her when she ran her usual errands, and parents made sure that their children never ventured near her. When she was old enough to work, she was unable to hold a job for long. Her mere presence at every shop and restaurant she has ever worked caused the place to lose business, and it was not long before the managers that hired her had no choice but to let her go.
The only place that had anything resembling mercy was a local nursing home. The manager there had hired her to work the night shift, where she would have minimal contact with the staff members that feared her. It was a job that ended up working out for her, however, so much so that she was eventually able to move out of her parents’ home and into a small apartment of her own. She remembered the look of relief on her parents’ faces when she told them she was moving out. It was not relief over her being able to make a life for herself. Instead, it was relief that she was finally no longer going to be a part of their lives.
She had been working at the nursing home for a little over a year when she found herself wandering the empty halls in the residents’ wing late one night. The dimmed lights of the hallway were illuminated by twinkling lights and garland. Aside from the security guard, she was the only staff member present; everyone else was with their family for the Christmas holiday. Some of the doors of the nursing home’s residents were decorated with holiday wreaths and greeting cards that were sent by loved ones. Other doors were completely barren. And there was one door that was left slightly ajar. She recognized it as the room that belonged to a resident named Mrs. Floyd, a pleasant yet quiet woman whose children visited her once every few months.
She peered inside, opening the door as quietly as she could. “Mrs. Floyd? Are you alright?”
She heard the sheets ruffle softly from inside before she heard a familiar voice. “Is that you, Caidyn?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Why don’t you come inside and keep me company for a while?”
She hesitated by the doorway. Nobody had ever asked that of her before. “If you need something, just let me know and I can get it for you.”
“I just want to talk to you for a while, dear.” Mrs. Floyd gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, child. It’s alright.”
Stepping inside the room, she took a seat in the empty chair beside the bed. Now that she had a closer look at her, she had not realized how frail and tired Mrs. Floyd looked until tonight. There also seemed to be a dark aura hanging over the old woman as well. She shifted nervously in her seat, not liking what she was seeing. “What did you want to talk about?”
“I suppose it depends on what happens next,” replied Mrs. Floyd as she held out her hand. “Please.”
Caidyn felt her heart lodge in her throat in fear. Ever since she was a child, she longed for her parents to even do so much as to give her a hug, only to have them recoil in horror when she sought them out for comfort and solace. People have always avoided her as if their lives depended on it, always letting her have her way if only she left them alone. And now, when faced with a person who was asking for physical contact from her, Caidyn found herself feeling completely petrified. “I— I don’t think…”
“It’s alright,” answered Mrs. Floyd. “Trust me. Don’t be afraid.”
There was a slight tremor when she placed her hand in Mrs. Floyd’s own, the aged skin of the resident feeling cool in her own warm palm. She watched as the old woman’s eyes stare off into the distance for a brief moment, as if she was watching some vision that only she can see unfold before her. And then, Mrs. Floyd released her hand, a small comforted smile appearing on her face.
“Thank you,” said the old woman softly.
“For what?” she asked, perplexed.
“No one as ever told you?”
Caidyn shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t understand…”
“Two days,” replied Mrs. Floyd. “I had a feeling it would be soon, but thank you for letting me see how it will end for me.” The old woman smiled gently at the confused girl’s face. “If only your family had told you sooner, it could have spared you so much misery. You’ve always been such a sweet girl.”
In that moment, Caidyn finally understood everything. The years of being shunned and avoided by everyone around her have led up to this moment, where the one person who was willing to offer her a modicum of understanding and comfort finally helped her see everything for what it was: people saw the time and manner of their deaths if they did so much as touch her.
The image of Mrs. Floyd soon became blurred from the sudden tears that welled up in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. “I’m…I’m so sorry….” she stammered. “I didn’t mean to—“
“Don’t be, dear,” smiled Mrs. Floyd gently. “And you are right where you need to be.” Reaching out again, she placed her hand on Caidyn’s hand again. “Will you visit me again in two days? Just to keep me company until the time comes.”
“Why would you want me here?”
“It would be a great comfort for me if you were here. You have a gift for that. Promise me that you’ll come visit me.”
Caidyn glanced back at Mrs. Floyd. From her tone, the old woman was genuine and sincere, and after a moment’s pause, she nodded. “I promise.”
“Thank you, dear,” replied Mrs. Floyd as she settled back down in her bed. “I’ve kept you long enough from your duties. But I will see you in two days.”
With a parting nod, Caidyn rose from her chair and took leave of Mrs. Floyd, gently closing the door behind her. She walked back down the silent hallway and took a seat behind the nurse’s station as she tried to process this information. Everything made so much sense now, and she was determined to not let down the one person who showed her compassion and understanding. People often feared what they do not know, with death being the most feared of all journeys. But from now on, she will be by their side to help guide and comfort them in their final moments.
|
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)
|
nan0user
|
zeekoes
|
2023-05-06 03:34:13
|
2023-05-06 00:43:35
| 512 | 227 |
jj1qznz
|
jj176cm
|
1395im5
|
1395im5
|
[WP] Upon meeting your boyfriend’s family for the first time, you find yourself facing two problems: One, you learn your boyfriend comes from a long line of exceptionally powerful sorcerers. Two, he has three very, VERY protective older sisters, and they want to see if you’re worthy of him.
|
Jim asked me to be his girlfriend before we met face to face – actually, before I even saw his face. That was somewhat normal in the late 90s, back when most people didn’t have a digital picture of themselves, and the internet was still a bunch of travel blogs and chat rooms.
I met Jim in one of these chat rooms. It was meant for magic enthusiasts. We were a small niche, but still a niche, one that was finally connected thanks to the wonders of technology. Most of us couldn’t perform magic or had seen magic being performed, but we were certain there was someone out there who could. I just didn’t expect them to be Jim’s sisters.
I met them when Jim got me a plane ticket so I could visit him for his birthday, when we were six months into our relationship and still hadn't met in person. I discovered they had powers after I noticed Jim looked completely different every time I saw him over that weekend; he was short and bald when he picked me up at the airport; tall and fit when we got to dinner; old and fat when we slept together for the first time that night. “We just want to make sure you love him for who he is”, Fatima, the oldest, explained to me.
It wasn’t a temporary spell, because a spell can’t be withdrawn after it is cast. Even now, as Jim and I are about to celebrate our 25th anniversary, I still wake up every day next to a different man. The same goes for our kids, Sonny and April: their appearance changes according to Jim’s. That’s just in my eyes, of course. Over the years, people have told me what they look like. I know, for instance, that Sonny is supposed to have hazel eyes and April has auburn hair. But all I can do is imagine, like a colorblind person is left to wonder about colors they will never see.
There’s a theory amongst us magic enthusiasts that a spell can be lifted once the caster dies. Fatima and Lucia have been dead for a while now, but Marcia, the youngest of the three, is still going strong. If I outlive her, I guess I’ll test that theory.
|
[Poem]
So glad we've met as well,
Let's all sit down and chat a spell,
You see we're all witches,
So we don't take kindly,
To girls who come here, that are bitches.
Our brother is the best,
So now you'll take our test,
Or we'll tell him what you always have feared,
We'll sit him down slow, and speak in his ear,
And we'll tell him his girlfriend is *weird*
|
Bleafag_
|
None
|
2023-07-06 05:24:53
|
2023-07-06 03:44:14
| 124 | 16 |
jqurrml
|
jquhy1i
|
14rwgki
|
14rwgki
|
[WP] You were once an adventurer but when was turned to stone. Your party tried to save you but it was too late, so they place you in the center of a town they founded, now years later an army marches onto that town and with every once of willpower you try to move…and with groan you take a step.
|
_Just move. Just fucking move!_
That was all that he could think for years. No, decades. The last time he ever moved was when he was with the hero's party. He had saved the hero herself by jumping in front of a devastating petrification spell, turning him completely to stone, yet conscious of the world around him. The hero and her party had assumed he had died and left him there. Alone. In the darkness of a ruined dungeon. For decades.
The monsters slowly retreated and plant growth formed along the ruins, once corrupted by dark tendrils of black magic and evil monstrocities. Birds and smaller animals began making their homes in the ruins, but would always make a point to respectfully leave the statue of the warrior alone. As if they knew. Over the years, the ground would shift and turn, turning the ancient ruins of the city into a thriving forest, teeming with life.
But the warrior was left alone. To himself. In the darkest parts of the forests. Where he stood in what was left of that dungeon, unable to move, cry, scream, but alive. It was a different kind of hell, one that the warrior would never wish on anyone.
Decades passed and a town began to form nearby. The land was plentiful and the bounty rich. It was around that time where a young girl with familiar eyes gazed upon the statue of the warrior. The one who saved the hero now was meeting her descendent. Upon discovering the statue, she placed a hand and smiled, unaware of the warrior's screams for help, silent to all but his blasted mind. The golden eyes, hardened with purpose, of the hero were mirrored in the curious golden eyes of the young girl, who ran and came with what presumably looked like her father, a man with golden eyes that had seen a hard living, though not as hard as the hero ever did. Within days, the warrior was taken from the dark pits of the ruined dungeon and erected in the center of this town, hailed as their guardian spirit. For the first time, the warrior was surrounded by people again, and though they could not hear him, he was thankful that he was amongst people once more.
Over the next few years, the town grew and prospered. The little girl with golden eyes grew too. She and her friends always played around the warrior, throwing homemade wreaths onto his head, leaving toys as gifts and climbing all over his visage. To know that the children felt safe near him... that made him happy that he had a purpose again.
Of course, as always, happy times do not last.
The air was thick with smoke as fires erupted in the sky. The warrior watched with horror as an army of humans, led by a member of the Holy Church, began to torch the town, claiming the "evils of infidels must be purged." That little girl ran to the statue as three soldiers chased her and climbed to the top.
And in that moment, the warrior felt an unusual magic from the girl. And in the next, he began to feel the stone around him... crumble.
One of the soldiers was about to grab the girl, licking his lips in a sick fashion. The other soldiers were cackling about "making her a woman." But within that instant, the soldier's arm was hewn, flying off his shoulder. The soldier screamed in agony as the others immediately backed off, terrified of this new threat.
His blade erupted with true holy fire, his arm free. With a massive groan, he took his first step. The stone that had been his prison crumbled, allowing him to breathe and move for the first time in nearly 2 centuries. The little girl was shocked as she looked up at the visage of the warrior, cloak burrowing in the fiery wind, blade coursing with true holy power, as his armor gleamed in the fiirelight. His long hair, though matted, was flowing like golden hay, his eyes a piercing blue as he stared daggers into this army. The leader roared and pointed his fake holy blade at the warrior, who took another step, that step breaking the literal stone of his pedestal. With a swing, he took off the heads of two more as his shield blocked a volley aimed at the golden-eyed child.
He took another step. And another. He picked up the girl and held her in his arm as he stared at this army. This town and this little girl made him this town's protector. And may the gods help any who would cross the path of the Hero's Battlemagus, Byram Welkandyr.
Raising his blade, eyes blazing with fury, he spoke for the first time in almost 2 centuries. It echoed across the burning town:
"This is MY town. Leave. Or die."
|
A gorgon. We killed insane drakes and wild necromancers. We sought the greatest adventures and battles to test our mettle; to challenge ourselves, overcome adversity, and to become modern legends. A DAMNED GORGON?
Honestly, it was hubris that did me in. Arrogance to the highest degree. Twenty-seven years has passed since that day. I sit as a decorative piece in the middle of the square of the town my team built in honor of the dream we shared. The town of Raven's Thorn grew around me. It started as an adventure's hub, yet became a true bustling town on its way to growing into a metropolis. My companions tried for years to undo the gorgon's insidious curse, all for not they believed.
They still came and visited me. I watched them come back from adventures and they would immediately come and tell me about them. They eventually killed Silonecinos the mad dragon the plagued the upper reaches of the Oranian mointians. They tracked down the gorgon that turned me and butchered it before me. I watched them age. Eventually they stopped coming by to see me as often as managing a town takes a lot of effort. Last i saw them they were in they're early fifties and had come and said they were retiring.
I drift in and out of consciousness. Years will go by and I had slept them away. I wondered why i wasn't allowed to just go insane sometimes. Then other adventurers started coming and, following the tradition started by the founders, telling me the stories of their deeds. I listened intently and even though they could not hear me i was a very enthused listener. I watched them grow into their power and too grow old and be replaced by the new generation.
"What's that?" I think to myself.
Then over the hill that is slightly to the right part of my sightline I see troops cresting the top. They wear a deep red platemail and blood red leathers. I see the crest of the Cult of the Cursed Blood Shadow and my being is enraged. Those monsters still walk this ground and i was unaware? Why did they have the ability to grow in power once again. My teammates are strong even now in their middle age but most adventurers never have to know they're names let alone fight them.
Suddenly, i hear cracking sounds. I feel my fists clench. Then i hear my heartbeat for the first time in twenty-seven years, and its racing. More cracking sounds as i take a step. Stone hitting stone as a shell of rock is crumbling off me. After all the experts, fakes, and money my friends wasted trying to cure me all it took was my unadulterated rage to break the spell. I unhook my bladed staff from my back and begin the grueling task of cleaning up my mistake of letting even one of these bastards breathe the air of this world.
|
LotusSaintcrow1
|
ravish_the_raven
|
2023-06-19 11:52:31
|
2023-06-19 10:12:05
| 19 | 11 |
joozf7p
|
joor3i9
|
14d0psk
|
14d0psk
|
[WP] Your planet has finally achieved FTL travel and is being welcomed into the galactic community. However the species selected to guide your people through this process is a terrifying and warlike predator species called....humans.
|
"Welcome to the GC! Congratulations, l'il fellas!" the human ambassador bellowed, baring it's teeth. Zyro cringed for a moment, but then recalled the information briefing they'd recieved from the Galactic Confederation: among the large -- and apparently loud -- predator species, this was a friendly gesture.
"Th-thank you!" Zyro squeaked.
The human delegation responded with a sudden artillery barrage that sent Zyro and his fellow Sinaxorites scrambling for cover.
"Ha!" the human barked. "Sorry, somebody must have jumped the gun! Those are harmless -- we call them 'fireworks', and they're used for celebration."
Zyro blinked, as he hesitantly raised his head. "You...celebrate by firing *explosive ordnance?* And by, er, did you say you jump over guns?"
The ambassador laughed. "Nah, son. That's just an idiom that means acting too early -- guess it didn't translate. We have been known to celebrate like *this,* though."
The human drew his side arm, and rapidly discharged it into the air, while letting out a prolonged high pitched shriek that sounded like "yee haw", as Zyro stared in horror.
The human bared it's teeth again, and offered the weapon to Zyro. "You wanna try?" Zyro found he wasnt quite able to speak, in the moment, so he shook his head rapidly, which he'd been told indicated a negative.
"Alright then." the human said, twirling his loaded gun on a finger, before using it to carelessly gesture towards his spacecraft. "Right this way, then, we'll get your first contact briefing started."
Zyro swallowed hard, hesitantly falling into step beside the human, then struggling to keep up, as the ambassador made no allowance for his species' much shorter stride.
"We are...eager to learn more about this Galactic Confederation." Zyro said, hesitantly.
The human snorted, and then spat a glob of mucus and saliva on the ground. "Buncha assholes, s'what they are."
Zyro blinked. "You liken them to..an anal orifice? Another idiom?"
The human barked again, "Ha! Anal is right -- interstellar busybodies with yottabytes of stupid rules and regulations for every damn thing."
"But, are you not their representative?" Zyro queried.
"Yeah -- not like we had a choice. Every member has to take a turn at first contact to foster diverse representation of the Galactic community and blah blah bullshit blah-de-blah." the ambassador said, with a wave of his hand. "They practically bully you into joining, the second they detect an FTL signature from you, and then lay all their rules on you like you're supposed to give a shit. We'd tell 'em to shove it up their pompous asses if it weren't for the trading opportunities -- buncha monopolistic horseshit."
"I see." Zyro said, uncertainly.
"Well, here she is." the ambassador announced, as they reached his vessel, which was terrifyingly heavily armed. "We commissioned her especially for this mission."
"It, er...*she* is...lovely." Zyro said, eyeing the landed battlecruiser uncertainly.
The human accepted the compliment with a curt nod. "We named her after one of our ancient cultural traditions: welcome aboard the *USES Malicious Compliance!"*
|
“Why us?” Wren asked her boss, Underambassador Sanchez, as they suited up.
“You were next on the duty roster,” Sanchez said dryly, checking his air supply. This species was oceanic, and the next meeting would take place in one of the liquid methane pools of GalCom One.
“You know what I mean, boss. Why humans. Why in person? I mean, even humans are scared of other humans. Wouldn’t a remote put them more at ease?” Wren had done her first tour entirely by remote, her body asleep in an orbital embassy pod while her mind soared across the gas storms of the Karee homeworld alongside their capital-flock.
“Because they’re joining the Galactic Commons, and they need to get used to species that look different,” Sanchez said.
“The Karee look different,” Wren pressed.
Sanchez sighed. He came around and checked the sealings on the back of her suit. “Remember the Nnn?” he asked quietly.
Wren nodded hesitantly. The Human Volunteers had taken the lead in putting down the Nnn Emergency not long after the exodus. It was still controversial, but mostly nobody talked about it. Nobody liked to remember the Nnn.
“The GalCom wants to send a message,” Sanchez continued. “*See those rabid predators? Aren’t you glad we’re holding their leash?* That’s why us.” He tapped the back of her suit.
“Understood, sir,” Wren said. She gave her most diplomatic smile: wide, open, showing two rows of sharp omnivorous teeth. “Let’s go welcome them.”
|
SilasCrane
|
prejackpot
|
2023-02-07 17:22:16
|
2023-02-07 17:20:45
| 234 | 174 |
j7lec7m
|
j7le3ik
|
10w2rk5
|
10w2rk5
|
[WP] At a meeting for professors of the health sciences, you are overjoyed to learn that you've been given an enormous grant to continue your research. As you leave, a terrifyingly large man grabs your shoulder and says, "Hi, I'm Grant. What can I help you with?"
|
"No, I mean I'm forbidden to fight that paladin," the warlock said. "Our respective divines have a nonaggression pact."
"Divine!? You're a servant of Blorphanx the Inscrutable! How the hell is that... thing a divine?" Dave, The bard had quite the vocal range, and he was near the top.
"I'm going to choose to ignore your obvious blasphemy for now," the warlock replied, "Blorphanx forgive me."
The heavily armed and armored Paladin started walking over. The Symbol of Divine Justice emblazoned on their breastplate seemed to glow in the dimly lit tavern.
"Uhhh... Gerglux, if he throws down, you are gonna at least buff us, right?" Jimothy, The rogue asked of their warlock ally.
"Hmmm...." Gerglux, the warlock of Blorphanx, stroked his wispy beard in thought, "I think that if you were to take an aggressive action while wielding my empowerment spell that his god might see it as a sign of disrespect. So... no."
The paladin was almost close enough now to hear their conversation.
"GERGLUX!" Her voice boomed from within her heavy plate mail.
The bard went from scared to scaroused. "Wait? The paladin is a woman?"
"Down boy," Gerglux put a hand on his bardic buddy, "Your pelvis bones would be destroyed in an instant."
She joined their table, uninvited. "Gerglux. Gerglux's goons."
"Goons!?" Dave was offended, but Jimothy just nodded, they knew their job was goon.
"Silence, Bard." Gerglux and the Paladin said at the same time. Both had whispered magic into their words, and the bard suddenly found himself unable to make a sound. The divine and eldritch magics when combined were quite unbreakable.
The paladin flipped up her visor, revealing a scarred, but beautiful face, and a few errant strands of red hair. The bard silently pounded his fist into the table.
"So..." Gerglux started.
"I'm here about the blackmire orb. Did you take it?" She didn't waste time or mince words.
"Yes."
"Can I have it? It is dangerous, and should be sealed away."
"No."
"Wizard-Ninja-Bear for it?"
"Sure."
At this point Dave the bard had written down the words "fuck you both!" on a napkin, and silently slapped it down on the table. He meant it differently for each of them.
"What the fuck is Wizard-Ninja-Bear?" Jimothy asked.
The paladin made a gesture as if to say, 'Your goon, you explain.'
"Wizard-Ninja-Bear is the game our divines came up with to resolve conflicts between our respective 'teams' non-aggressively." While Gerglux explained, he conjured up three little illusory shapes on the table, made of smoke.
"The game is simple. Two players are chosen, and they stand back to back. They count down from three, using the words, 'Wizard Ninja Bear' and they they choose one, and assume the position as they turn around."
"Okay." Jimothy was scratching their head, but seemed to be following along.
As he spoke, the little smoke illusions killed one another in the fashion he explained, "Wizard beats Bear, Bear beats Ninja, Ninja beats Wizard."
At this point the paladin spoke. "Wizard is with a single pointed finger, representing their wand. Ninja is partially squatted down, with both hands having all fingers pointed, like a knife-hand, representing their unarmed martial prowess. And Bear is with both hands up above your head, like a big ol' bear, representing... uhh... the bearness."
"Well explained," Gerglux said. "Now, shall we get on with it? Single elim, or best of three?"
"Oh, best of three, for sure." She smiled, breaking the bards heart that she was 'on the other team' morally speaking.
She stood up from the table, and Gerglux joined her. "Dave, could you count us in?"
Dave offered both his middle fingers in response.
"Haha, right." Gerglux laughed to himself for a moment before he said, "Jimothy, could you count us in?"
"Please." Added the paladin, "Once we're back to back, you just say the name of the game."
The warlock and the Paladin put their backs together, and Jimothy the rogue duly said,
"Wizard!
Ninja!
Bear!"
___________
/r/AFrogWroteThis/
|
The formatting is pretty off, and it's separated into a few comments because Reddit didn’t let me post it in full, but I appreciate it if you take the time to read my rushed little piece of work. I'm a new writer, so criticism is very, very welcome. I know the short story is, well not that short, and it's very convoluted. So, it would help if you guys could help me out by pointing out things that could be more clear, or just better in general. Thank you so much, and this prompt is awesome!
Trigger warning: Depictions of injury.
“Still bothered by the dress eh?” replied the stout paladin clad in golden-white armor.
When they first began their trek through the forest, Peregrine cared very much for her pitch black dress—she methodically planned each stride while holding up her skirt to ensure that it didn’t get dirty. After all, she spent all of her cut from the Eublipharian extermination on the fashion statement. And, a statement it was. Emphasis on *was*. Through the various encounters in the forest, she was unable to focus on maintaining the cleanliness of her “statement”. By now, the bottom of the dress had accumulated a foul mixture of dirt, mud, and probably the urine of some native species.
“You women are always troubled at the smallest things, huh,” rambled Fivem, the party’s resident dwarf paladin.
“Oh shut it, Fivem. You wouldn’t understand the inner workings of a woman if your little life depended on it.”
The dwarf Fivem softly chuckled at her ruthless retort, but soon grew serious.
“You’ve grown quite the reputation as a sorceress over the years we’ve been together, Peregrine. I sure hope that a scuffed dress won’t cause our demise, ‘specially when we’re right here, at the final battle.”
“Of course not. You know better than anyone how different I am in battle,” she answered coldly.
“I know, just sayin’,” replied the dwarf as he softly rubbed the unsightly burn mark on his arm.
“We’re here,” said Kemrin, cutting the tension with his stern voice as the team made their way to an exit to the forest.
As he led his group forward, Kemrin took it all in; the shiny dewdrops glittered atop the blades of grass, the ceaseless variety of beautiful flora strewn about the field, and the small insects skittering around the ground.
“What a beautiful sight”, he said to his group as he trudged ahead.
|
kiltedfrog
|
ekko_main123
|
2025-03-03 17:34:30
|
2025-03-03 16:39:30
| 135 | 13 |
mft93vg
|
mfsxhv0
|
1j2ghy0
|
1j2ghy0
|
[WP] The knight who saved the princess was a 40 year old man with a wife and kids. He doesn't want her hand he just thinks teenage girls shouldn't be held captive in towers in the middle of nowhere.
|
"The dragon has been slain! All Hail Sir Barkley!" The man was aloft his white horse, a beautiful princess on his back.
"My knight, I am sorry I thought it was time for you to be put out to pasture for your age. The kingdom is in gratitude to you." Sir Barkley bowed.
"Thank you, Your Majesty. It was all part of my job."
"I know you did not ask for retirement, even after I allowed it...thank the Maker you did not. Now, it is time for your just reward."
"...just reward? Your gratitude is enough reward for me, Your Majesty."
"If we don't give you the reward, it flies in the face of my kingdom. PREPARE THE ROYAL WEDDING!"
Sir Barkley was shocked.
"...royal wedding?"
"Yes. You saved my daughter, the princess, and as such you will be betrothed to her!" Sir Barkley looked confused as the king continued.
"...uh, Your Majesty...I've BEEN married! For years! Th-the royal bishop ordained my marriage! You know my wife, she works in the royal kitchen as one of your chefs!" The King looked, then was confused.
"...w-well, why did you save my daughter if you're already married? You amongst all the knights know the rule- you save the princess, you marry the princess!"
"I am one of your finest knights. The princess is in trouble, you can't trust a serious problem for the kingdom to an untrained knight. You need the best knight in the country on the job to handle this. Wo-would you have rather I sent one of the new guys out there? Most of them haven't even been taught how to handle a dragon!"
"Well, we never expected that a married knight would go to save the princess." Sir Barkley shook his head.
"You DO remember Princess Fairmaiden is my Goddaughter, right? I'm not about to let her get captured, I swore an oath to you when you gave me and my wife that honor to protect her with our life! I merely did what you expected of me way back when!" The king nodded.
"I remember that well, Sir Barkley..."
"So, you know why I would go to save her without thinking...and you know why I could never marry her. Even if something happened to my beloved wife...I'm literally old enough to be her father myself. I changed her diapers with the queen, for crying out loud! I cannot possibly think of her as a bride...and I'm sure the princess couldn't think of me as one as well!" Princess Fairmaiden looked sheepishly to the king.
"...yes, Father. I know about the rule of the land, but...he's just too old, I've known him for too long. I can't possibly see him as a husband." The King threw his hands up in exasperation.
"...well, I don't know what happens here. ...oog, this is unprecedented. We've had so many different pairings of knight and royalty, all of which saw the betrothal without a problem, and the law of the land has been used forever...but this is the first time we've had a knight who saved royalty refuse to marry the person they saved. I can't imagine sending Princess Fairmaiden to a convent because she has been rejected."
Both Sir Barkley and Princess Fairmaiden were taken aback.
"A CONVENT?"
"A convent, Your Majesty?" The king looked downwards.
"We cannot go otherwise. If she has been saved by a knight who will not marry her, she must go to a nunnery. It's the rules of the land."
"Oh god..." Sir Barkley shook his head.
"King Lawler, I ask for one request before deciding on this."
"Yes, Sir Barkley."
"...to me, my son, my squire." King Lawler had his pages send to the knights' helm, and finally, a young man headed in.
"Father, what did you need me for?" Sir Barkley looked downwards, then started speaking as if he was badly reading lines.
"Why, I needed my son to be here to find out that I am about to kidnap Princess Fairmaiden! I cannot let her be sent to a nunnery, and so I kidnap her!" Sir Barkley went to his sword, then dropped it. "OH NO! My sword has fallen out of its hilt! I'm sure only someone who has known my style of fighting could defeat me easily!" Sir Barkley winked to his son, who caught on immediately. His son grabbed the sword and swung at Sir Barkley, who fell to his knees.
"I am beaten! The Princess has been saved, and by my own son no less! How could this be..."
King Lawler looked, as Princess Fairmaiden caught on and hugged Sir Barkley.
"Father, the rule is there...I HAVE just been saved by this man..."
King Lawler nodded.
"Let the preparations for the royal wedding begin!" Princess Fairmaiden hugged the squire as they left. King Lawler looked at Sir Barkley.
"...you could have just asked to have your son betrothed to the princess instead..." Sir Barkley looked.
"I am a knight. I serve the land and my King. If the land's laws say that the person who saves the princess must be betrothed to her, then the person who saves the princess will be betrothed to her."
"I understand. You are aware I will have to take you from my knights for this, right?" Sir Barkley nodded.
"You had said it was time for me to retire anyway, right?"
"Aye, my dear friend...or family, is it?" The king and his knight shook hands.
|
At first, I tried talking to the hooligans in reasonable terms.
>"You know, locking a teenaged girl up in a tower with no social circle or emotional outlet isn't going to do wonders for her mental health" I noted.
>
>"Yeah. We know. Now go away before our captain calls for the archers to shoot you." one of the outer wall guards responded.
>
>I heard the subtle twing of bowstring from on high.
>
>"Alrighty, thanks for your explanation. Have a wonderful day!" I turned to walk away.
Then, I tried coercion.
>"What do you mean, I don't look convincing! Why, I'm this princess's long lost sister!" I tried my best feminine accent.
>
>"Last I remember, princesses didn't have full grown beards and sound like gruff older men in their 40's." a guard noted. "Do you remember meeting the long lost sister of Princess Persephone?"
>
>"No, I didn't." the guard responded. "If I remember right, it was quite a big deal that the king only ever had one daughter. One is none, and all that."
>
>"Yeah, got it." the guard turned to me. "Please leave before our gunmen shoot you down."
>
>I heard the loading of a magazine from on high.
>
>"Very well. I'll be on my way."
Finally, I tried deception.
>"I'm here as an inspector from the Occupational Safety and Health Administration, also known as OSHA, to inspect your castle for proper workplace and building practices. Please, if you will, step aside, and let me enter so I can do my job/." I asked politely.
>
>"OSHA won't exist for another couple hundred years, American. Now scram unless you really want our captain to come out and greet you personally." the guard glared at me.
>
>I heard loud, thunderous stomping from much closer than on high.
>
>"Dang it! Too meta. I'll come back tomorrow." I noted.
>
>Groans emanated from both inside the castle and from the outer wall guards.
Finally, the day came. I was tired of this girl being locked up in a tower.
So I did the right thing.
I picked up my phone, and started dialing.
"Hey, this is Greg." Greg said.
"Hey Greg, wanna go raid a tower?" I asked.
"Sure!"
Soon enough Greg and I were at the tower.
I casually walked up to the tower. Archers, gunners, and the sounds of a very buff man yelling came from the other side of the gate.
"Hello there, castle guard." I smiled.
"Hey, I thought I told you to scram." the guard replied.
"What? Me? Scram? What a preposterous thought!" I laughed.
Immediately, as I predicted, gunners, archers shot at me from above.
They didn't stand a chance.
Bullets and arrows all bounced off me hopelessly, before I chugged a potion from my inventory, and started jumping up into the air. Dirt blocks spawned below me, as I turned my B Hopping cheat on. Then, just for funsies, Greg and I started teleporting around the base at random. Men screamed as they were placed in Obi traps, becoming floating corpses in the middle of the sky, all drowned in midair. I swung at someone with my sword, and they caught on fire. But this wasn't the point.
Soon, Greg and I- having thoroughly dispatched their captain- skillfully used admin commands to teleport ourselves into the chamber where they held the girl. I pulled out a pickaxe, destroyed her chains, and set her free.
Moral of the story? Honestly, I don't fucking know.
|
Spiritual_Lie2563
|
EvilNoobHacker
|
2023-02-24 06:57:28
|
2023-02-23 23:10:09
| 179 | 18 |
j9smbj5
|
j9r17p3
|
11a7y6u
|
11a7y6u
|
[WP] You have lost count of how many time travelers have come to kill you. You don't know why they came and at this point you don't care. You will become what they fear simply out of spite.
|
When the first one came for my life, I was surprised to say the least. I want to say he looked like a Terminator but he was just a guy. No one had looked at me with such unadulterated contempt and hate before. Not even my ex.
"You will not live long, scum!" He screamed as the police dragged him. "You will pay for what you did to us. What you did to humanity!"
I stared at him baffled. I had absolutely no idea. At first I thought he must have escaped from the asylum. Maybe this was a psychotic episode. I actually felt bad for the man.
It wasn't until the second one arrived a week later that the suspicion started to take root in my mind. She was a beautiful woman. I knew I had no chance with and yet when she smiled coyly at me, I couldn't help myself. I went to talk to her. That's when she took out the knife. A good Samaritan just happened to walk past and disarmed her.
She too screamed when the police came. "You think you have a blessed life? You are nothing but a curse. You are a blot on humanity."
I was now getting concerned. Maybe I was something despicable. Two people had tried to kill me in two weeks. They must have a reason. I did not posses any significant money nor did I have information about the State's affairs.
Then it must be me.
And isn't that the thought that starts to destroy you. Like rust on iron, it grows and grows until it covers the whole structure and one day the structure gives up- collapses.
I just hoped I don't collapse. I may not have people who depend on me but I also didn't want to be destroyed.
*
I started seeing a therapist after the third one. This one was just a boy. It broke my heart when they had wrench his screaming body away from me. He did get a shot in. My arm was bleeding, knife was embedded deep in my bicep. But there was a numbness spreading inside me. I must be a truly awful person if a boy, who was no older than 15, wanted to kill me.
Something inside me broke that day. I knew I needed help. And if I didn't get it the collateral damage would be too large.
*
"Sir, we think there's a bounty on your head." Detective Conan said.
"Who?" I asked. My voice was hoarse because of disuse. I had stopped leaving my house. The only place I went to was my therapists. I had taken a mental health leave from my work.
"We don't know." Detective Conan said looking slightly ashamed.
I nod. I understood his position. It was not an easy job. They needed concrete evidence and I didn't think that my attackers were cooperating.
"Can I talk to them?" I asked calmly. I just needed a reason. Was it truly me? If it was maybe I could change myself.
He looked uncertain then nodded. "Sure."
*
"Why do you want to kill me?" I looked at each of them. I needed to see the truth in their eyes. I needed to see the hate in their eyes.
A barrage of insults flew at me. Bastard, scum, monster, devil, a few more but I stopped listening. My therapist said to distance myself from toxicity but I needed the truth, what I didn't need was unnecessary curses.
"Who sent you?" I asked calmly.
The boy laughed. "No one sent us. We are here because we know you. The true you."
My self-doubt was rising again but I didn't let it take over me. I knew me. I tried to do the right thing, always have, always will. I didn't deserve this.
"Who?" My voice had an edge to it now and maybe they could tell because their faces changed. A little fear had started to seep into their features.
"We are not from here." The woman snarled. "We are from the time where you destroy everything."
"Time travel." I laughed out loud. "You all-"
"We don't want to talk to this man anymore, officer." The man said.
And then I was left, in the too hard chair, staring at the space my three attackers had occupied. Maybe they were telling the truth. And if they were then I must turn something evil in the future.
That darkness once again started to creep on me and this time I let it.
*
I didn't even try to stop the next attacker. I was ready to embrace the darkness. Why wouldn't I? It had already taken over me. Every good thought I had was now turned against me. All I had were thoughts about how one day I will someday turn so evil that people will jump through time to kill me.
So, I let them.
But fate had other plans because they shot at an innocent woman, her only mistake was that she was standing beside me.
After weeks of darkness I saw a light. A red light of fury filled my being as I screamed and threw myself at my attacker.
That was the last day I counted my attackers. Because that was the last day I doubted myself. I knew I was not the one who turned evil.
Whatever I become from this time forward is because I chose me instead of the version of me they thought me to be.
From that day I decided to become something more than a victim.
I chose to become a fighter. A survivor.
[You can find more of my stories at r/iknowthisischeesy.]
|
I looked down at the dead man’s body as I held his identity paper in my hand. I can’t remember how many times this has happened, a stranger apparently from the future has somehow travelled back in time with the specific aim of killing me.
I was done. This was the final straw. One of them killed my mother by mistake when I was a boy and the media tried to blame my poor father. Another came for me when I was in high school, and another after I joined the military. More and more come each year. Fortunately I’m still alive and serving thanks to the skills they taught me in the army.
Sometimes more than one of these people come in a year and I have to kill them. I have killed women as well as men as they’re ranks contain both. It’s me or them and apparently there is no shortage of them in the future.
I didn’t ask for this, but I hoped I could do something about it. My poor old ma, dead before she was 50 because some asshole has a time machine. Why?
I glared down at the futuristic identification card through tears. I missed her. I missed her so much. “These bastards won’t get away with this.” I swore to myself.
As I read the ID I went through all of the details for any information I could use. Name, age, weight, height, nothing ever really helped aside from two of the categories.
The first was the birth date. This was how I discovered they were time travelers. Every single one of these monsters was born after 2350. I assume that’s the year when time travel was invented.
The second category was religion. They all had the same religion which was weird to me at first, but I think now it’s a clue. Knowing this about them gives me an edge. Because it’s a religion that I know because it is in my time too. They have to be descended from people in my time, they just have to be. Perhaps I can save myself, or a version of myself, this utter torment of a life that I have had, being mercilessly hunted by these monsters from the future.
If they want to come for me, let them come. For the rest of my life I expect these monsters to hunt for me, my only chance is to fight back, to reclaim some of my life if it’s the last thing I do. I want revenge. I want them to burn. But I can’t get to them. I can’t travel through time and I don’t know where or how they are organized and how strong they are. It’s one against who knows how many?
I folded the ID card in half and threw it on the deceased man, spitting on him for good measure. I don’t have to go to them.
“You’re ancestors are here somewhere and I’m going to find them.” I said to the dead body. “I’m going to find them and I’m going to kill them because of you.”
Because of all of you, I thought as I turned to walk away.
I stepped out of the alley into the sunlight and held my hand up to shelter my eyes from the glare. My mind was set. I had a plan. I was going to get my revenge for the people who had ruined my life, murdered my mother and stalked my nightmares. They will pay for their crimes, and if not them, then their ancestors. I don’t care anymore. I want payback.
A friend of mine called to me from across the square, noticing I had been missing for a while. As I jogged back to the group another friend spoke.
“What did that guy want Adolf?”
“I don’t know.” I replied.
|
iknowthisischeesy
|
MilkmanBlazer
|
2023-07-13 16:03:27
|
2023-07-13 15:51:40
| 362 | 94 |
jrtgat4
|
jrtekkq
|
14ykuqu
|
14ykuqu
|
[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?”
|
" Goddam Chigger's you ain't welcome here" A yelling voice called.
I had expected it to be worse than back North, yet not this bad.
My anntenae quivered with apprehension as I walked slowly into the gas station, my compound eyes, filled with the vista of staring eyes, ignorant locals and muttering. The Station attendant lowered his hand to below the counter, his mouth set in his hatred. Eyes cold and predatory.
My wings rustled nervously.
I grabbed a water bottle with an arm and the other's quickly searched by flying pack for my money.
" We don't serve Roaches here." The attendant an old greying man, his belly large so that he looked like a plump larvae.
" Oh." I said softly.
" You best git, if you know what's good for you, plenty folk's I'll clip your wings round these parts" he said jovially his laugh sinister In all ways.
My stomach turned at recalling that horrid incident the hivemind had been filled with horror then, a wayward Klargon had been set upon by a group of poor angry men, they'd torn his wings off , sprayed his eye's with bug killer then set him on fire, the hivemind had echoed with his tortured ramblings for hour's.
" I see," I called listlessly
I walked out into the open air and realised I could not hear them, the constant thrum of my compatriots in Chicago City, poor but together was gone. Now a dead silence.
I was the only Klargon for miles around.
My Elytra spread. My wings thrummed as I drifted upwards, careening upwards and away from that horrid place, the buzz of my wings extinguishing my buzzing mind as I fluttered onwards. Southward.
The ground rang with bright flashes, popped with sound below. Some drunk Xenophile shooting for me.
I was away.
Desert swept downwards, darkness clustering upon the dark road, the long gaze of headlights as truck's rolled by, occupants safe from the buffeting wind's. My Ma would be pleased to see me. Her wings too raggedy for flight now.
A town lay flaring with light in the darkness, another hotspot of intolerance, I didn't fancy that again.
I flew on.
|
RaveBomb
|
Thousandgoudianfinch
|
2024-10-29 15:28:23
|
2023-06-01 12:50:07
| 37 | 18 | null |
jmgxfc7
|
1gejm6t
|
13x018u
|
[WP] As a genie you take great pride in deliberately misinterpreting every wish to make it as horrible as possible, but the wish you received today is the first wish that you not only have no idea how to make any worse, but you feel that even just fulfilling it as stated would be going too far.
|
A boy sat cross-legged on the cold ground, clutching the lamp like it was the only thing keeping him upright. He couldn’t have been more than twelve, his face streaked with dirt and tears, his eyes swollen and red. A tiny wisp of a child, he looked like he hadn't eaten in days. His small hands trembled as he looked up at me, his lips pressed tight, like he was trying to hold himself together.
“I wish to never forget my mom’s passing,” he said, his voice quiet but unshakable.
I stared at him, the words hanging in the air like the sharp toll of a bell. For a moment, I said nothing, waiting for the twist to reveal itself. But there was no twist. Just a boy, barely old enough to understand the weight of life.
“I’m starting to forget her,” he said, his voice cracking on the words. He wiped at his face, but the tears kept coming. “I used to remember everything about her. How she’d sing while making pancakes. How she’d brush my hair before school. She had this laugh, like... like a giggle, but warm, you know? It would make you feel like everything was going to be okay.” He sniffled, his words tumbling out faster now.
“But now... I can’t hear it anymore. I can’t picture her face. I try, but it’s all blurry. I can’t remember how her voice sounded when she’d call my name.” He clenched the lamp tighter, his fingers pale. “I don’t want her to go away. She’s already gone, but I don’t want her to \*really\* be gone.”
His voice broke completely then, and he bent over, shoulders shaking as he cried. I felt the familiar temptation to smirk, to twist his wish into some cruel, ironic horror. But this… this wasn’t the kind of wish I could make worse. He already loved her so much that forgetting her felt worse than any punishment I could dream up.
“I don’t care if it hurts,” he said through his sobs. “I don’t care if it makes me sad forever. I already lost my home. My school. My hairbrush. I just don’t want to lose her. I don’t want her to disappear.”
I knelt down, staring at this boy who couldn’t have understood the enormity of what he was asking. Or maybe he did. Maybe he understood it all too well.
I could give him what he wanted. I could burn that memory into his mind so deeply it would feel as though she’d left yesterday. But I knew what it would do to him. He would carry the weight of it, day after day, unable to move on. The memory of her passing wouldn’t just stay. It would grow sharper, more vivid, until it consumed him.
“Are you sure?”
|
Wisher : "I wish, for everyone to experience the pain of testicular torsion every other moment of the day.
Not all the time mind you, just long enough for the the pain to be almost debilitating, then it stops for a random duration of reprieve be it a few minutes or a few hours, only for it to happen again, constantly, forever.
Why the short reprieve? Because if pain is your default state, then the brain ignores it after a while. It needs to be a constant cycle of pain and peace.
Everyday, you wake up to pain, to sleep in pain if you ever get any. Your waking moments haunted by pain so visceral you wish you were dead, and when the pain is gone, you are haunted by the next interval of pain. Never to know when it will happen."
Genie : "God damn, you sicko."
|
thunderfbolt
|
kaynenstrife
|
2025-01-24 08:27:52
|
2025-01-24 05:16:01
| 59 | 39 |
m8vol1p
|
m8v2pif
|
1i8cbeo
|
1i8cbeo
|
[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."
|
“Three souls?” inquired the black-cloaked spirit, "This troubles me."
The manager shrugged apologetically, "I know, inflation has affected all of us, but I'm afraid I must insist it is three souls nonetheless."
"Very well," came the raspy voice. "The first I summon is Johannes Vinsburg, a sheep trader who betrayed his family. He opened the gates to the invading forces of Saladin in exchange for a promise of protection and a sack full of silver. That promise did not save him from the knives of his own family when they found out."
From the cracked leather billfold, a wisping mote of light shot out, hissing through the air and past the ears of the manager before landing in the till with a bubbling gurgle. The till rattled and shook but then stabilized.
"The second," the specter said, "is Julianne of the Black Lake. Once the fairest beauty in the entire kingdom, her soul turned to wickedness and murderous intent when she found that her brother had not been lost as thought but had instead transformed into the shape of a beast. His return meant her loss of inheritance and power, so she stole into his room in the night with a vial of poison, tipping it between her brother's lips as he slept. She lived for many decades more, but the people could ken the truth, and she was chased from her lands, living as a witch isolated in the dark forest. Eventually the villages could take no more of her foul deeds, so they burned her cottage to the ground with her still in it."
The second mote of light shot out, this one more green-tinged, and it seemed to be making a shriek far louder than the first before landing in the till.
"And the third and final of these I give to you," the soul of the man known only as Clae, or the Butcher of Kier. This warlord once rode at the head of a mighty army of bandits, stealing from all and murdering those who dared even think to give him anything but what he believed he was due. The blood of thousands stained his sword and his heart, and he was only halted by a courageous bowman within the village of Montris, during what would become the last of his army's attempts to conquer and subjugate the countryside."
The last mote, this one blood-red, shot out. It had a bass rumble that rattled the windows, and it moved slower than the others, almost lazily orbiting around the manager's head and causing his vision to blur as he grimaced. Eventually, it settled down into the till, rattling the entire counter before finally stilling.
Then the till gave a weak little *beep,* and the manager said, "Very well, thank you. Here's your..." He looked down at the bag, "...gallon of milk, half a dozen eggs, and a Snickers bar."
The specter reached out to grasp the paper sack, and one of the handles tore.
"Oh, sorry about that," said the manager apologetically.
Extending a bony, skeletal hand forward, wrapped with wisps of pure time and entropic energy, the ghost spoke.
"I know all and see all. I have witnessed the dawn of man upon this pitiful plane and will be here when the last of you exhales your breath and succumbs to the great nothingness beyond. In this, the whole of my knowledge and the breadth of my understanding, I possess knowledge of all things past, present, and future. I know that you were not responsible for this poor manufacturing, but rather the greed of the supplier of these bags and that if your own leaders in purchasing a low-quality bag. For their thirst for wealth, there shall be fires, screaming, and anguish when their souls seek to escape to the grand nothingness, but are instead punished for their transgressions. But not you, Mortimer Blithely, Manager, esteemed Manager, and child of Liverpool."
The manager nodded, saying, "Yeah, yep, that's right, all right. Well, thank you for coming, Mr.-"
The specter moaned again, rasping out, "I am neither man nor woman, beast nor flesh. I am the shape of the darkness behind that which you dare not look. I am the coming of the end, the wail of the child, the weeping and gnashing of the damned. I am inevitable. For those foolish enough to seek out my name in hopes of my power or my mercy, I am called Frosticarious, Keeper of the Long Doom and Light of the Cursed Star."
"Oh, well, okay, thank you, Mr. Frosticarious. Thank you for your patronage, and we hope you'll come in and get groceries with us again,"
The ghostly specter nodded solemnly, its empty hood blown by an invisible wind, and small particles of grain and grit billowed around it.
"This I shall do, Mortimer of Liverpool, and be marked that I shall be inclined to render judgment on your masters sooner than late should they continue to follow the path of greed over goodwill."
"Yep, I will pass that feedback along. Thank you, sir, again, and you have a good evening." Without another word, the specter floated to the automatic doors, pausing a moment as the doors did not recognize the icy specter floating patiently over the sensor pads.
The associate who had initially been at the checkout crept over and surreptitiously put a foot on the pad, and the door slid open. The specter turned to them and with a billowing gasp of smoke and ash, said, "My thanks for your service, Julian of Liverpool. There will be a small mercy for you before the end, for your end is sooner than you think."
"Wait, *what?"* Julian sputtered as the spirit floated out of the store.
The manager patted them on the back. "Oh, I know, I wouldn't worry about that. He does that to everybody. My guess is his sense of when something dies is all skewed, and since humans all appear very short-lived, he said that to me a couple of times, and that was probably 20 years ago."
Julian sighed, some worry leaving them but still eyed the departing ghost anxiously as it crossed the parking lot.
"So, if you don't let me say Mr. Mortimer, sir: What the *hell* was *that?"*
"Haven't a clue, my lad. Haven't the foggiest clue."
---
Enjoy this tale? Check out r/DarkPrinceLibrary for more stories like it!
|
“Shit,” I mumble under my breath. How did they know that I was a soul dealer? Even more perplexing, how did they know the terms of my contract? I have to accept. He must know that I am one of the few soul dealers who are bound by our sacred oath and never fulfilled. I have taken so many steps to conceal myself, new clothes, new vernacular, new eyes, new everything. Fuck. Normally, I would let something like this slide, but I simply have too much on my plate as it is, and this is my hometown. I like it here, and I am not about to leave. I need to send a message.
“Fine, you have yourself a deal. Three souls. No more, no less. You will have them by the end of the week you backhanded creatin.” The cashier obviously has no idea what he has gotten himself into and is just doing his job. I look up and the poor bastard is still just standing in disbelief. I can smell the sweat dripping down his face in the hot store. The AC must be out. “What are you looking at, boy? You mind helping me out,” I bark. He stumbles as he drops my items into the bag, clearly nervous about this whole endeavor.
The lights of the market are glaring, giving me a headache, as I help him cram my purchase into the paper bag. Milk, cheese, yogurt, burger, the usual. Staring at him, I start to see his lifeline. I can see where his pathetic soul, born out of the primordial ooze of the universe, started. I can see all the peaks of his many lifetimes, times of great prosperity and vitality. I can see the valleys. He has many more ahead. Until I reach up, without moving, and clip it with my fingers as if pinching a string.
Grabbing it, I stretch it thinner and thinner until, “snap.” He goes limp at the register falling face-first onto the counter. “Must be the heat, or maybe something he ate” I say to the woman behind me in line. “You might want to call his folks, or maybe 911. I have seen this before; he will probably be all right if he gets cooled off a bit.” Normally, I wouldn’t be so brazen, but they forced my hand.
“Excuse me, manager?” I shout at the ‘gentleman’ over in the produce section. Fucker. He is standing in the one place in the entire store where there is some semblance of cool. As he strides over, I start looking for his lifeline. Exquisite. My body starts to quiver with anticipation seeing just how long his lifeline is. It seems to stretch from the dawn of time to the end of time itself. I have never seen anything like it, and I have seen, and extinguished, gods. “Yes, Mr. … Harvey”, I say glancing at his nametag, hoping I still have some time before he realizes what is going on. I plucked the boy’s lifeline using an old trick that leaves reverberations to cloak the break from higher powers. “Your bag boy seems to have been in the heat a bit too long. Could you please call someone to assist me with these groceries?”
“Not a problem, sir. Natalie! Natalie, come here and help this gentleman to his car with these groceries. I think between the three of us, we can take care of it.” His words lingered in the air as if they were not just spoken but woven outside of reality itself. Reaching out, I couldn’t help but experience unease. I was about to examine Mr. Harvey’s line in more detail, with its swirling colors and seemingly dancing peaks and valleys, as Natalie stepped up to help. Her brunette hair in a tight bun as she quickly hopped over.
“No problem, Boss!” She obviously had more energy, and apparently zero awareness to the circumstances. She grabbed the heavier bags with ease as we exited the store. I didn’t have time to notice the stillness. The lack of sound. I was too busy with my own worries. Stepping up to my car, I turn around and see both Natalie and Mr. Harvey looking at me with apparent sorrow on their faces. “Don’t you recognize your boss, Henry? Or should I say Heinrich?” Mr. Harvey whispered. I should have instantly recognized him. Looking at Natalie, and her lifeline, I could see that hers too, was modulating. Fuck. Soul dealers. And not just any dealers, but the epochs. As I stare at them, I see their ethereal bodies stretch across time and space and grab my lifeline. It is too late; I think to myself. All these years of running, trying to avoid my role in the universe. It all ends here, as I close my eyes.
|
darkPrince010
|
ice_09
|
2023-09-01 17:07:01
|
2023-09-01 16:00:44
| 572 | 68 |
jyowx96
|
jyolu5z
|
1678ja3
|
1678ja3
|
[WP] You are a werewolf and everyone in the village knows. When its nearing the full moon they all help you baricade yourself in your home since you are the only wheat farmer in town. Everything was fine until some self righteous lord takes over and demands not only your land but your home as well.
|
A home is a man's castle. Wether a peasant or a King, this is true. The village of Valune, they called my small, humble mill the Chateau, the most important building they had.
Surrounded by fields of gold, tilled by me and mine since time immemorial.
The fruits of that labour ground into white powder by the power of the wind. Sails sewn by the fingers of ancestors long passed.
I was all that was left, the only one who knew the secrets of the ground. The seasons, the howls of the wind. Now waiting, as time ground my bones to dust, as it did the grain.
None from the village took to the words of the ground or its blessings. None could understand the plough. I despaired.
And then, foul beast! Terrible, wonderous beast! It bit me, deep and strong!
I writhed in agony for days. Yet I healed. Pain fled my aching bones, the clock wound back and though I still looked a withered man, I worked as ten men strong!
Oh golden grain, I harvested, put to mill stone, and so kept the village safe from famine winter long. The price, however was something I kept to myself. Barricaded in the 'Chateau'. Inescapable to beast, made of stone that could not be breached by man or beast alike.
But only so much can be done by one man alone, however strong, the howls brought curiosity, and thus did my wretched state become discovered. The Mayor put to a vote wether I should be allowed to live , near unanimously was the vote of yes. No harm had come to the people of Valune as long as I had been around, and so they said it must be my doing.
It was of course, not so.
Thus did the ritual start, and so did the coming doom .
Every moon the Chateau lived to its name, a fortress did it become, protected, fortified and kept locked tight to keep me from the thing I feared and craved.
Yet so the word of prosperous Chateau grew, and protection grew. The village was then carefully selected by a Lord, young and foolish, who did say the lands all thus belonged to him and him alone. Any attempt to hold anything from him, would be met with force.
His men, upon that fateful night, came to ensure that no one would bar the Lord from seeing what was within the Chateau.
So no one stopped him and his men, so politely let him in, and locked it up behind.
|
You're body, though appearing young feels the years of transformations. As you walk across the floor you can remember your first time being stabbed, your first time changing even. The night you changed not knowing what your body was doing. Feeling like your body was going to explode. Now here You are in what some would call a "Comfortable" life and it's being taken. Your first thought is easy "Rip this new lord to pieces" a thought easily channeled by rage. A more curious thought harbor's itself moments later. You could turn this new lord, turning him into the monster he sees you as.
|
Averander
|
Tricky-Assist6344
|
2023-07-30 23:40:19
|
2023-07-30 20:35:58
| 63 | 13 |
ju4xrm3
|
ju48jnw
|
15dqogc
|
15dqogc
|
[WP] "Let me make this perfectly clear. You are not saving my daughter from a dragon. She IS a dragon. You are going to protect her and keep her company until she learns how to control her magic."
|
I knelt in front of the Emperor, listening to his request.
"Again, Sir Lucius, let me make this perfectly clear.
The quest is about protecting the princess, AS a dragon, meaning that SHE is the dragon, and you are not some knight saving the damsel from a dragon's greed.
You are to protect her, and keep her company until she learns how to control her magic, understood?", he boomed.
I nodded.
"Yes, Your Majesty.", I said.
He nodded, and the eunuch gave me a pouch with materials, food, and the instructions as to where to go.
Far away, in the northern wastelands of the Empire, I arrived at a mountain range, and in one of its mountains, a path was carved out.
Entering and following it, I arrived at a large cave, filled with bookshelves, wardrobes, and pillows.
Upon the pillows was a emerald green and royal blue scaled dragon...
It was not one of the titanic sizes, but one barely a few times bigger than an adult human.
After all, it was a magic specialized dragon.
"Who's rawr.", the dragon lifted her head up, asking, but her words turned into roars, as she buried her face in the pillows.
"I came on His Majesties orders, to protect and keep you company, My Lady.", I said.
There was silence.
After a good while, I saw her move, and as she looked at me, she gasped, releasing a breath of fire, water and metal on me.
I parried it upwards, hoping this cave is as enchanted as I think it is.
"Sorrawr!", she said.
"No worries, I was chosen because of my skills.
Try out your dragon skills, you don't have to worry about my safety.", I chuckled, but all she did was bury herself even more into the sea of pillows.
I shrugged, and taking a book from the shelves started reading it...out loud.
Didn't take long until a nose was in the book, as she came over curiously.
I laughed, and scared her, as she tried to "punch" me, but I blocked it.
"It was some time since you read a book, wasn't it?", I asked.
She nodded.
"Must be sad, considering the many books here, you are quite the reader.", I said.
She nodded again, tears visible in her eyes.
"How about this?
I read you some books, hunt for your meals, maybe dig out a hot spring for you to bathe in.
In exchange, you have to try out draconic spells, and draconic movements: clawing, flying, breathing fire, bathing in lava, and so on.
Do we have a deal?", I asked.
She stared at me, her tail swaying behind her, before it jerked, and hit me.
I didn't even budge.
"Sorry...
And yes, I accerawr!", she said, nodding.
I re-started reading, while I could see her try to walk around, without wobbling.
It was a good start, and considering her half-human speech, it won't take long until she will master her transformation...
|
Tori hummed and rubbed her chin after hearing the woman's request. Nugget looked up at his mount with a few cheeps and a cluck.
"It's a weird one, Nugs." Tori chuckled at her cockatrice, whose snake tail wagged with anticipation. "But money's money and we're the closest magic teachers and bodyguards around... kind of."
Nugget stretched his head at Tori with a cheep.
"I know, I know. We'll eat soon, okay?" Tori glanced at her cockatrice, who cheeped back.
"This time of year is inhospitable to all but the local ice dragons and storm dragons." The requester rumbled. "For now, I have a cave where you and your bird can stay."
"Oh, that's perfectly fine. I used to live in a cave when I was a kid." Tori waved her hand with a chuckle. "My mom taught me how to hunt in caves and the forest"
"Great!" The woman beamed while she handed over a map to Tori. "Here's a map of the area. My cave is marked here. I'll leave you and your bird to get yourselves adjusted for a few days."
Tori thanked the requester and went off to find the cave she and Nugget will be staying at for the next six months.
|
TheWanderingBook
|
HB_DS2013
|
2024-07-02 03:46:32
|
2024-07-02 03:11:40
| 32 | 12 |
lb8h1qd
|
lb8chhs
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1dt8ngh
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1dt8ngh
|
[WP] When you were kids, your identical twin drowned in a lake. Today, everyone - even people who wouldn't know about your twin - is calling you by their name. Freaked out, you called your mom and tried to explain the situation and your blood runs cold. She says you're the one who drowned.
|
"Hey sweetie," the kindly woman said over the phone.
"Hey mom," Philip replied dejectedly.
"What's wrong? You sound down."
"It's... someone pulled a stupid prank. They thought it would be funny to call me by the wrong name. The name of... *his* name, you-" he tried finishing the sentence, but couldn't find the strength to. 12 years after the accident and the wound was still far, far too painful. He didn't know how anyone found out about his twin brother's drowning, but to call such a prank cruel was mild.
"Oh, *sweetie*, I'm so, so sorry," Philip's mother said softly. "Do you know who started it?"
"No, I... no," Philip continued. "I just... on the anniversary of all things? I don't get how someone could be so-"
"I know, sweetie, I know. I'm really sorry."
"Yeah."
"Say," Philip's mother started warmly, trying to cheer up her son, "what do you say you take the week off, come over? I'll cook your favourite meatloaf."
Philip chuckled and wiped a tear from his eye. "I'd like that, mom. Thanks."
"Maybe later we could visit Philip's grave. Might make you feel a bit better to talk to him, you know?"
Philip's blood froze. "You said Martin's grave? I think I misheard."
"What?" Philip's mother replied. "No, I said- Martin, are you feeling alright? Mart^(in?")
The phone shattered on the ground as it slipped from Philip's hands, silencing his mother's worried pleas. He looked blankly forward with abject horror. For strangers to call him his dead brother's name - a prank. His own mother, however...
He rushed into the bathroom and splashed water on his face. Looking up he reached out to the mirror to wipe it clean and get a good look at himself.
And when his finger hit the glass, it caused waves to flow through the surface, as if he touched water. His stunned silence was broken by the sudden sound of the doorbell. Philip slowly crept towards the door and still dazed and confused opened it, seeing a man dressed in a very plain shirt and trousers standing before him.
"Philip Lavarez?" the man asked politely.
"Y- yes?" Philip responded.
"You're Philip Lavarez?" the man repeated.
"Yes, I am- do you know what's going-" Philip started.
"But you're not supposed to be," the man interrupted. "I've been sent by \[ENTITY: ADMINISTRATION\] to help. Do no worry. It'll be well soon."
Philip's eyes went wide as the man reached into his pocket and pulled out... a bottle of pills?
"This is the correct \[ITEM: MEDICATION\], Mr Lavarez. Please, take one," the man said and offered one. Philip reached over for one.
He didn't want to. He screamed at his body not to take one. He tried as hard as he could to resist.
He grabbed a pill and swallowed it.
"\[ENTITY: ADMINISTRATION\] apologized for the inconvenience, Martin," the man said with a smile as the world faded to black.
.
...
.....
"Hey sweetie," the kindly woman said over the phone.
"Hey mom," Martin replied dejectedly.
"What's wrong? You sound down."
"It's... it's the anniversary of Philip's death and it just got me remembering..." Martin said.
"Oh, sweetie, I am so sorry. What do you say you take the week off, come over? I'll cook your favourite meatloaf."
Martin chuckled and wiped a tear from his eye. "I'd like that, mom. Thanks."
|
It started out just once. I thought it was a mistake. When someone hollered, "Hey Penny!" I thought they were talking to someone else. But then it happened at the drug store then at my veterinarian job. I started to feel like I was going crazy! "I'm not Penny!! Why do you keep calling me that?!! Penny is dead!!" I shout to nobody as I had fled to a nearby bathroom at my workplace. I was frustrated. I was scared. I felt like I was losing my mind. I couldn't be the crazy one. They're crazy. I shakily pulled out my phone, not knowing where else to turn but to my slightly distant mother. She was never the same after my sister's death, after PENNY'S death. I heard her answer. I said, "Hey mom. Something weird is going on!" "Oh Penny what's the matter." She responded and my blood ran cold. Not her too! "I AM NOT PENNY!!! I'm JOSEPHINE!! PENNY DROWN IN THE LAKE WHEN WE WERE KIDS!!" I gasped in desperation. Of course my outburst scared and confused the already mentally frail woman which made me feel horrible, reminding her of the tragedy that befell my sister. "I don't know why.... You feel the need to bring up the worst moment in my life. Or to cause your mother so much grief again and again. You are not Josephine. Jo drowned when you were kids. You are Penny. I am sick of you opening old wounds. My heart can't take it anymore. Goodbye." I heard the dial tone and couldn't catch my breath. What? This had happened before? No. People only just starting calling me Penny instead of Jo... Right?
|
SirPiecemaker
|
UndertaleFan1996
|
2023-01-26 20:19:56
|
2023-01-26 18:25:42
| 319 | 30 |
j609ymg
|
j5zrkjy
|
10lycz3
|
10lycz3
|
[WP] You are a squire to a dead knight - as were your father and grandmother before you. Today, for the first time in generations, the councilors reached an agreement - the invaders cannot be reasoned with; unseal the tombs.
|
On the stained glass windows, paintings, and tapestries the Everknights looked like they were just sleeping. Serene, beautiful faces with lips half-curled in a smile reassured the meek that someone was there to shield them from harm when invaders threatened their homes. They were a symbol of eternal duty and devotion to peace. They were heroes. When I looked at mine in person, what I saw was a weapon.
He was hairless and pale. His eyes had rotted away during the squireship of my grandmother when old embalming techniques had proven insufficient to delay time’s rightful due. A thin mouth curled into a strange grimace, giving me a glimpse of a set of eerily perfect teeth. My father, ever the practical man, had shifted his focus from preserving frail and largely useless flesh to maintaining the armour and axe of the Everknight. I followed in his footsteps. I’d never had much choice.
The council called the tombs of the Everknights “sealed”. They didn’t want to put any more emphasis than necessary on the work of squires like myself. They didn’t want the populace to think of their eternal heroes being routinely protected from cobwebs, dust, and rust. I’d been venturing into the little stone cave to perform my duties about once a month since I was child, first with my father, now alone. Today’s visit was unscheduled.
You’d be surprised at how shallow the sleep of a dead man is. When I’d first seen him stir in that crude stone niche, I must have screamed as hard as my little lungs allowed me. Now the casual shifts and even occasional murmurings were familiar, almost comforting. Still, there was a ritual to make an Everknight fully awaken and rise to battle. The wolves were at the door and villages burned, so the council demanded I—along with every other squire to every other knight—perform it. It was time for legends to march.
I lit the incense and began to pray. This was not needed, but it helped calm the thumping in my chest. It seemed prudent to ask the gods for help, but I wasn’t sure what I dreaded more: that the Everknight wouldn’t awaken or that he would. By the time I was born, the last squire to have done this had been long dead. There was no guarantee that the old magic still worked. With a heavy sigh, I took out the knife.
It was one quick cut, right across my palm, just like my father taught me. With so much fear coursing through me, the pain barely stung at all. I lifted my fist to the Everknight’s desiccated mouth and squeezed out a few droplets, reciting words in an old language of my ancestors:
“Oh blood of mine, forever cursed to dream, rise and protect me.”
I backed away towards the far wall and waited, counting seconds with my shallow breaths. The worst part was how silently he moved. A tall man clad in full armour walking out of a pit of stone should have made some noise. I expected a clattering of metal as he grabbed his helmet and axe and marched towards me, but he glided out more like a spectre than a ghoulish decomposing body. In just three steps he crossed the length of the tomb and approached me. Two hollow pits drilled into me as a steel gauntlet rose to my face.
As I tried to press myself into the rock of the cave, he placed his armoured hand on my cheek and looked at me for a long agonising minute, searching for something that wasn’t quite there. It seemed weird to suggest that an emptiness, a void in place of eyes, could look so confused. From behind his white teeth a single word echoed in a strange wail, a word in that same old language my father taught me:
“Daughter.”
Without another sound, the Everknight put on his helmet, turned towards the exit, and left his tomb.
|
I thought it silly when I was a boy. "Why bother caring for all this junk!" Is what I always said to my father when he was teaching me how to maintain the equipment of a corpse. "Why should I memorize all their titles?" I asked when he made me study the many titles the c corpse had earned, I was young enough to believe all knights had pages upon pages of titles. "What's the point of all this?"
But he only ever had one response "You'll find out when you're older" and it infuriated me. I was angry as all children are when a secret is kept from them. I was angry I wasn't trusted, wasn't good enough, and that I had to do about three times as many chores as my friends.
But the day my father died of the wasting wad when it all changed. Still stricken by grief and mourning, tears still flowing from my eyes, I received a visit from one of the king's ten hands.
They're an elite in all things to do with combat and intelligence. I was taken away from my mother so that I could learn something. Something I hoped I'd never see used in my entire life. But sadly the world cares not for the hopes of one person.
I recite the ancient words. I list the titles and deeds of a rotten husk. And to my horror the husk lifts the lid off of his own tomb. It gets up in eery silence as its lungs have gotten away long ago along with almost its entire body. The only things magic has preserved where piercing eyes surrounded by rotten sockets and an unnatural strength.
I feel that I could break at any second while I tell the revenant lord what our enemies have done. A dozen towns burned. All our diplomatic attempts massacred. Spy's reporting our citizens being sold in their markets. But nothing moved the figure. Nothing implied any rage on the lords face. Their eyes were empty and hollow things where hope went to die.
An as they donned meticulously maintained armor I could only pray that at least their blade could bring hope to my people.
|
Pyronar
|
sir_blerginton
|
2024-10-22 14:59:14
|
2024-10-22 14:21:06
| 420 | 118 |
lt6jr0m
|
lt6coxi
|
1g9i58c
|
1g9i58c
|
[WP] Guy lives alone in a world full of people, no one can see or hear him, he lives his days alone until one day he find another person, another person alone in this world with him. They fall in love but then he phases back into the world, everyone can see him again, but he can’t see her.
|
Swirls of light enshrouded her, and alas! I appeared above the shrine, bathed in wonder for surely she had never seen a god. My tempest of appearance settled gradually as I announced her reward for her commitment to me.
"Meredith you came when none other would. Year on year, in your life. Now you are middle-aged, and still you come! Kneel and receive what I give!"
Meredith grimmaced, knelt.
"Behold!" I thundered, and produced the holy contraption for her. The light dissipated, the swirling subsided. I remained hovering over my shrine, beaming down at her as she retook her feet and approached the treasure I had bestowed.
"An elliptical?" she said, dryly. "You're giving me an elliptical?"
"I..." I said, caught off guard by her unblinking stare. "Are... are you unfazed by my sudden appearance and bestowal? I am a god!"
Her stare maintained for a minute in the silence between us, then she looked back at the elliptical.
"I mean, it's an elliptical. Do you think I should be more surprised that there's a god for this shrine I've known all my life? Or do you think it's more surprising that a god manifested a gift for me, and it's an elliptical?"
"What is wrong, Meredith? I seek only to reward my most--my only devotee."
She sighed, and touched one of the handlebars, pushing it so that the pedals squeaked on their rail. She started.
"Is... is this a used elliptical?"
"Um, it's," I stammered, conscious of a bit of ethereal sweat on my brow. Gods sweat, yes.
I smote the bead and said, "yes, Meredith, but it has good reviews and ellipticals are sturdy machines."
"Why do you think I need one?"
"Meredith come! You are middleaged and this is but a beginner's hike to the trailhead, and even that is just behind your home. Surely you need to consider other forms of exercise."
"God damn!" she snapped. "All my life I come here, and your first thought is I need to lose weight? What kind of god are you? I can't believe I thought this shrine was so important."
I summoned a tiny rumble of the earth and a bit of wind that messed up her hair a little.
"Stop that!" she said. I recoiled.
"I wouldn't use this machine," she continued.
"Why not?"
"I can't be bothered to exercise on machines. Hell I can't exercise unless it's to do something. Like, a sport maybe. Get the ball in the net, over the net. Or walking to the store to buy food and lug it home. Something primordial about hunting and gathering, I dunno. I can't just waste calories just because. It goes against nature for god's sake."
She eyed me at that last quip.
"But--"
"--and by the way, can you even teleport this to somewhere else?"
"Of course!" And I summoned with great concentration a displacement, and the elliptical moved a foot to the right.
"Like to my basement?" she asked. I looked down. "So what, it just stays here in the forest next to your shrine? I can't carry this thing it must weigh 80 pounds."
She inhaled and touched her temples as if they hurt.
"I... I am sorry, Meredith. I care about you, you see. I want you to be healthy and to come visit me next year. And the year after, and so on. I have no friends, you see. I am alone."
Meredith looked up at me, letting her hands fall to her sides. Her eyes filled with an emotion I couldn't quite identify even with my holiness of sight. It seemed to fill her, to redden her cheeks and lift her spirit, as if a bit of electricity stimulated her awareness beyond the aged bones I had erroneously thought she should limber up. I knew then that while perhaps she wouldn't use the elliptical, at least, she would come visit again next year.
|
It's already 2100. 2100... And My faith has already been so swiftly forgotten.
Crosses, they used to adorn My houses, everywhere across the world. Well now, they don't. My faith has been so forsaken and despised, that they don't even use "+" for addition in Mathematics anymore. They just use the word "plus" or the phrase "added to".
The last Bible was printed in 2073. The last hymn was sung in 2076, and the last praise song sung in 2079. Earth's last church officially ceased to exist in the same year, 2079.
Since then all worship of Me has ceased. No one remembers Jehovah. The Trinity. Yahweh. Jesus Christ the Saviour.
Except you, dear child. My dear dear daughter in spirit, Deborah Mary Samynathan.
I thank you for remembering Me. For still coming to this small alcove that has a small stone cross in it, to pray to Me and beg Me to have mercy on this increasingly depraved world. You give Me hope. Hope that among mankind, My beloved creations, good may still silently exist. Hope that this good may yet rise again one day.
And now this year, you have come to visit Me again. It is Easter. And I remember that now you are 21. You are grown now. You are an adult, and I think you are ready for My gift to you.
Take now, the strength of Samson, the power of Elijah, the insight of Paul, the righteousness of Moses, the integrity of Joseph and the triumphancy of Joshua. Receive, now, SPIRIT.
Now, go forth My faithful daughter. Declare My faith and lend voice to that which has been silent. I will go and wage war against Lucifer, who will seek to stop you. I know, this means that you may stop feeling My presence near you for awhile.
But do not fear, dear daughter. We will be separated only for a little while. Once the victory is won by the power of My blood, I will reveal myself to this fallen world. And you will be vindicated for your faith in Me.
Be blessed now, dear daughter, and go forth to victory.
|
velabas
|
MC_Hans84
|
2025-01-14 03:59:56
|
2025-01-14 03:02:22
| 205 | 28 |
m71mbtr
|
m71clyg
|
1i0uoqt
|
yzagke
|
[WP] You never really believed your grandmother's stories about the little people who lived in her home. After she passed and left it to you, you said, "Okay, Little People! I'm sorry, but the economy sucks, so I'm going to have start charging rent." In the morning, you find a small pile of gold.
|
I stared down at the small pile of ancient gold coins. They had to be ancient, there were bits of them that were still covered in moss. I'd never really believed Oma when she talked about the Little People in the house. As a joke, when I'd inherited the house, I'd made a general announcement in each room about the economy and paying rent. And this morning, I'd woken up to *this* on my nightstand.
Ignoring the goosebumps that rose on my arms at the thought of the Little People— whoever they might be— watching me sleep, I reached out and picked up two of the coins. They were too small to pick up individually, perfectly sized for a folk that was considered little. The gap that they left in the pile revealed an equally small piece of paper.
Using the zoom on my camera, I managed to read the message.
'This is all we have. We hope it is enough for your rent. We don't want to be freeloaders, or to impinge on your generosity.'
'P.S. Sorry about your loss.'
Well, I felt like shit. I'd just impoverished a whole group of Little People and they were apologizing for the loss of my grandmother. After wallowing in my guilt for a few minutes, I came up with a plan. Walking into every room in the small house again, I made an announcement in every room, making sure I spoke clearly. Hopefully, they heard me.
All throughout that day I waited with bated breath, making preparations in my living room. If the Little People had heard me, that's where they would be appearing. And this time I would be awake to see them. I'd set up a table nearly at eye level, a small stack of paper and the tiniest writing implements I could find. Hopefully, even if the size difference made it difficult to understand their voices, we would still be able to communicate. I'd also moved the small pile of gold, bringing it here.
It was around midnight when I first saw movement. Small figures swarmed up the legs of the table until they reached the top, and I got my first visible impression of the Little People. They were impeccably dressed, each looking as if they were about to attend a fancy ball. Tiny feathered wings hung down their backs, and I wondered why they hadn't just flown up to the table. Nevertheless, they were here, and that was the important thing.
One of their number stepped forward, clearing her throat. I watched her eyes flicker from me, to the pile of gold and then back again. Unsure of the protocol for interacting with another race, especially one that had probably been living here longer than me, I waited.
"You asked for a meeting, and while that breaks every rule of interaction, we all agreed it might be necessary. Please, what more do you want from us?" She said, a hint of desperation in her voice.
As gently as I could, I pushed the pile of gold toward the group, making sure my movements were slow. I didn't want to scare them.
"Here. I don't feel right about taking all your gold. But," I held up a finger as she opened her mouth. "Neither do I want you to feel like freeloaders. So, here's what I propose." I took a deep breath, making sure my voice was level, pushing down any unruly emotions.
"You probably knew my Oma better than I did. Honestly, I was surprised when I inherited the house, we hadn't spoken in—" My voice cracked. "In twenty years. I guess, I just, you know, I was...busy." It sounded like such a flimsy excuse, but to my surprise, the Little People didn't look judgemental, though they probably had every right to judge.
"So, for as long as it takes, your rent is to tell me about her. About what she was like, what she did with her life, everything you saw here." I stopped, my throat closing. I hadn't realized how much I loved that old woman until she'd died, until I'd run out of 'I'll visit laters.'
The spokesperson for the Little People looked up at me, tilting her head to the side. It was a remarkably bird-like movement, and coupled with the wings, I wondered if perhaps there was bird in their makeup.
"And this would be seen as fair compensation?" She asked.
"More than fair." I managed to choke out.
She nodded, and waved a hand behind her. Almost faster than sight, the rest of the group swarmed the gold, each taking a few pieces before vanishing back into the dark. In a few seconds, only the spokesperson remained. She moved from the table to the arm of the couch, sitting comfortably. And the stern face she'd presented, cracked into a gentle smile as she looked up at me.
"Then, the first tale begins tonight. The story of your...Oma...when she bought this house and moved in."
As she continued, I surreptitiously wiped at my face, my hand coming away wet. Even in this economy, this was better payment than any pile of gold.
——————
Visit r/Mel_Rose_Writes for more stories!
|
Loneliness. Even the word instigates the feeling of such isolation of body and soul.
And this is exactly how I feel as I watch my extended family surround my grandmother's still body. She looks so frail. She looks old.
She looked dead. Lifeless. Which is not the word I would have ever thought to describe my Grandma. She was always full of life. Everything she touched bloomed with the love that poured from her. She was absolutely fierce. She stood up for what she believed in, for who she believed in.
And for a long time, it was me. She stood by me when I lost my parents. She stood by me when I came back from school with black eye. She stood by me when I gave that kid a black eye. She was there for me.
But now she is not.
And I don't know what to do.
*
I slump back into the sofa in my living room. All the guests finally leaving. My face finally falling out of the mask I had been wearing for the past 13 days. Hated every single one those fake relatives. I knew why they were here. They were just waiting for the distribution of property. But I didn't falter once. My grandma would never want me to give them an inch so that they can take a mile.
But finally I was free. Free to live in a house that my grandma filled with love. How will I live here alone?
Then, as clearly as day, a memory resurfaced in my mind.
*"You are never alone here, honey." My grandma said. Her eyes twinkling with secrets of the universe. "We have our little friends here."*
I snort. I have never seen any of her little friends. I always thought that it was her way to feel better after losing her husband and then her son. I never questioned it, of course. If my small indulgent smile brought her happiness then smile I shall.
But the thought of someone who knew my grandma like I did was a tempting one. And perhaps this is why I said, "Okay, Little People! I'm sorry, but the economy sucks, so I'm going to have start charging rent."
Despite my apprehension I waited for something, anything to happen. But as I knew, much to my dismay, nothing happened.
Sighing, I make myself move. I needed sleep. Maybe I could see my grandma in my dreams and she would teach me to move forward.
Or so I hoped.
*
My dreams were nothing but watching my grandma's last rites. Watch when the body went in flames, a little white light escaping the fire like finally her soul was free of this material world.
I crash into something and almost fall down. Groaning, all the while searing pain shoot through my toes, I try to stand up. But I freeze when I see the glinting metal.
There's a small pile of gold. A scramble back. How the hell? I look around looking for a thief who is probably using my home as a hideout. There's nothing but a small note beside the now scattered pile.
Hesitant, I pick it up and almost pass out from shock.
*The rent.*
*We are sorry about your grandma. She was a wonderful woman. Thank you for letting us stay.*
~~~~~~~
(I mention 13 days because in Hinduism their is a 13 days ceremony after death. Also the him watching his grandmother burn is from the fact that most groups in Hinduism practice cremation.)
|
Mooses_little_sister
|
iknowthisischeesy
|
2023-07-05 12:45:48
|
2023-07-05 12:43:53
| 509 | 126 |
jqr0wu9
|
jqr0p37
|
14r71p8
|
14r71p8
|
[WP]"And why exactly should i care?" "Well... You are the summoned Hero, tha-" "No, I was kidnapped from my World for your benefit. Or do you suppose i didn't have a life in my World? Didn't have Family? Friends? How would you feel if i kidnapped you to fight some scary shit for me?"
|
I could tell the king was not expecting my response. I am willing to bet that he only thinks about himself and decided to summon me because he thought it was going to be the easiest solution. I can tell by the look on his face that he didn’t even consider that what he was doing was kidnapping and that everyone wants to assist him because he is the king. I have been in this world for less than five minutes and I already hate him.
The king composed himself and explained, “Our enemy nation is at war with us. My people are suffering. I knew that the best method would be to summon a being from another world to end this war quickly. The summoning has given you immense strength and speed. Please find it in your heart to help my kingdom. After the war is over, I will send you back to your world.” I hate him even more now. An obvious attempt at emotional manipulation by saying that the citizens are suffering. A promise that he can send me home to both give me hope while explaining that he is the only person who can return me to my world. Unfortunately, I do not have a choice but to go along with this selfish prick.
I give an exasperated exhale, “Show me the weapons, armor and soldiers. I must see what I am working with.”
The royal advisor yells, “Watch your tone! You are talking to the king and must show respect!” I looked at the advisor, realized that he doesn’t have the authority or ability to send me home, and then tested my newfound strength by snapping his neck. Everyone in the throne room was shocked but didn’t make a move.
I explained, “I will not be showing the king or anyone in this room respect. You are kidnappers. I killed him to send a clear message that I am not helping because I want to, but because I have to. I repeat. Show me the weapons, armor and soldiers. I must see what I am working with.” The king had a look that he was starting to regret summoning me. He complied and had the guards show me the soldiers, weapons and armor.
By the end of the tour my hatred towards all authority in this kingdom has reached its peak. The weapons and armor were all poorly made, as if absolutely nothing had gone into the research and development. The soldiers were poorly fed, and their training was pathetic to say the least. The officers in the army were all nobility and got their positions through nepotism. This nation probably has been relying on the summoned hero the entire time and has not made any effort into improving anything. I will help them in this war that is meaningless to me and the entire time I am going to think of ways to make them regret ever bringing me here.
|
"I admit it is not ideal, but we didn't have a choice as to your world..."
"Tell me I'm still alive on my world."
"What? Yes, of course, why does everyone ask that? We just need you to fulfill your destiny and you will be thrown back to your world."
"Thrown?"
"Let's get you fed."
"I don't want to be thrown anywhere." He says while being guided through a giant and colorful door, inside is a house, a big house, where a family appear to be waiting for someone.
"Well, sit down, boy." The older of them points to an empty seat. He takes a seat and a servant fills the plate in front of him with an incredible amount of food. "I will really like to know what my... Hold up, man, I don't hibernate any time soon." The servant doesn't stop until the food threatens to fall out of the plate.
"Now, for the task that the universe has chosen you for. You have 25 minutes to complete the ritual of glutonery. Empty your plate and generations will praise your name forever."
|
Casual-author
|
Causeofprobability
|
2025-03-25 03:53:20
|
2025-03-24 22:32:27
| 15 | 10 |
mjlnqmv
|
mjk4vvr
|
1jis37i
|
1jis37i
|
[WP] The pact was signed between the King and the Fairy Queen, 1,000 years of prosperity for his kingdom, in exchange for his yet-to-be-conceived first born. The Fairy Queen however did not expect the king to slit his own throat and die on the spot seconds later.
|
The fairy queen heaved a full body sigh and lifted a delicate foot to nudge the king's corpse.
"Quite dramatic don't you think? Did you even read the contract?" She turned her piercing gaze to his attendant. Though her expression held no malice, it cut through him to the bone. The longer it lingered on him, the more he was sure she didn't look upset or even mildly put out by the cooling corpse of the former king at her feet. She looked... disappointed. She snapped her fingers in front of his face, and only then did he realize she'd spoken.
"A thousand apologies, but I was so distracted and missed your words."
"No need for a thousand, one will do. Now, as I said, the king was literate, yes? He did know how to read?"
The attendant had ever intent to answer but was so flabbergasted by the question in light of the situation that he was rendered speechless. The annoyance that flickered across her face pulled him to his senses.
"Um, yes, your majesty. The king is-erm, was, a very well educated man. " It had never taken so much effort to speak. He looked down to avoid her gaze, but that only brought his attention to the former king. A sob desperately wanted to escape. It squirmed in his throat like he'd swallowed a frog, but now was not the time to fall apart.
The fairy queen, cheated from her due, would surely strike their kingdom for this slight unless something could be done to stay her temper. He look away from his king and back up at her and was once again struck by the disappointment painting her beautiful features.
"Can you?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Can you read?"
She turned the contract to face him. The ink glittered with magic, and the parchment held its gentle glow. He almost collapsed in relief seeing it. The magic was still active. The contract's terms still held despite his king's treachery.
"READ." The queen spoke the word so calmly, but it laced with power and he couldn't have denied the demand if he'd tried.
"On this day, the Queen of the Fae and King Richard, third of his name, come to an accord: 1000 years of prosperity for his kingdom in exchange for the king's yet-to-be-conceived first born. After birth the Queen of the Fae will have 18 years to collect her payment."
The attendant read it once by command, twice by curiosity, and thrice by confusion. He looked around the paper and up at the queen.
"I don't understand."
Who would have known a face so elegant was even capable of such a substantial eye roll.
"Tell me if you can: Where in this contract does it say the child has to be Dead King Richard's?"
The attendant read it a fourth time, and a fifth. After the tenth read through the color drained from his face and the froggy sob finally found it's freedom.
"Yes, now you see it. A new king shall be crowned, and I will have his first born."
The attendant fell to his knees, into the pool of his king's blood.
"He died... For nothing?"
"He did. An inconvenience at best. Such incompetence. It's no wonder he needed fairy magic to bouy his kingdom from the brink of collapse."
The Queen took her leave then, and not one guard moved to stop her. The next king would pay a heavy price for his crown.
|
"And upon this meeting was the time when the king of humanity met with the Fae folk, coming to help with the future war to destroy the land. He did know that this could guarantee peace in our times, and so he went to get it.
The Fairy Queen is a honest person, and she did offer 1000 years of peace and prosperity for the kingdom in exchange for his first born. The King had no children, and none to be conceived. And he did agree to the terms. The two did make a blood oath, and he nodded to the Fairy Queen.
And then, the King did take the dagger and slit his own throat, to die at her feet. He sacrificed for the human people in order to give us all peace.
But the Fairy Queen, she is a smart person. And she did see this attempt to break the oath, and she knew her way. She looked upon this king and found another option.
And with that, the Fae folk had went out to the kingdom, and they did look through the fields, the ways of the human's land. And they did find a young peasant girl, crying because the boy she was to marry had been taken by accident. And the Fae folk did promise her a good life if she were to come with them, and she did so willingly.
And when she did get there, the Fairy Queen was there with the dagger, taking the corpse of the King. And she did make her way to fight back, as the young girl was calmed and given wait...and soon, the deal was finalized.
And this is the story of how our people have had peace and prosperity, as well as the story of how IVF was invented."
|
MiddayGlitter
|
Spiritual_Lie2563
|
2024-09-30 04:13:45
|
2024-09-30 03:23:57
| 21 | 13 |
lplq7xl
|
lplk57a
|
1fs7u8x
|
1fs7u8x
|
[WP] You open the door and see a woman you recognise immediately: she’s the lead character of a novel you wrote years ago. And abandoned halfway. “Why did you forsake me?”
|
“I’m either drunk off my ass and dreaming, or you’re some hallucination…fine, I guess I can indulge you a little,” I sigh as I look at the elven woman dressed in attire for which I remember penning the descriptions years ago, gesturing for her to come inside with two fingers. The rest of my hand held onto my glass of whiskey. “You *are* supposed to be Selena, right?” I sat on my couch beside a coffee table.
“There’s no ‘supposed to be’ about it. I am Selena,” she said, the sassy attitude I imagined for her character shining through. “You started making my story years ago, but stopped after 8 months. You stuck me in a nest of vampires and left me there. Do you know how boring it was waiting for you to get back and continue my adventure? The vampires only knew how to play one type of card game, and refused to interact beyond that. I couldn’t even leave the mansion until I prayed for some divine intervention. You made me an atheist…do you know how hard it was to bring myself to pray to something I never believed existed?”
I look down softly at the drink in my hand. “I’m truly sorry…I don’t know if I’ll ever finish your story,” I said before taking another drink. The liquor was running out, so I grabbed the bottle beside me and refilled the glass. “I am no longer the writer I once was.”
“…So I am forever doomed to a life of misery and boredom? I was supposed to fight the demon king and save my world! Now I’m just going to fade?” Selena asked, leveling her staff at me in a rage. “I won’t do that. You will not make me sit there without any hope for the future.”
I look at her with no light in my eyes. “Selena, do you know on whom I based your personality?”
Selena softened a bit, clearly not expecting that question. “No…why?”
I pick up a picture frame beside me, gazing longingly. “You look just like her as an elf…and your person matches perfectly. Even what I never explicitly wrote. She was an incredible woman.”
Selena walked closer, seeing the picture of me and my wife. “Did something happen?”
“…She was coming home from work, and a drunk driver found her at 120 miles an hour. She was 8-months pregnant. Her body was too broken to have an open casket at her wake.”
Selena was silent, noticing she was getting choked up. If she spoke, she knew the dam would break.
“I was writing your story to inspire my daughter. But…if she’s not here to read them…”
Selena sat on the couch beside me. “…You wrote me having to overcome the death of my mother and sister…” she said. “Maybe whoever answered my prayer wants me to help you do the same.”
I look at her directly, seeing some of the scars I had given her from the raid that took her family. I suppose that was my fault there. “You and every therapist I’ve ever spoken to,” I say before finishing my whiskey again.
“But they’re not as close to you as I am. I am a reflection of your soul just as much as you meant me to be a reflection of your wife.”
It was my turn to stay silent. I wanted to hear what she would try to say.
“If it helps…could I at least stay here with you until you find it in your heart to write again?”
I hadn’t been expecting that. “Are you serious?”
“It’s clear you need somebody to help you through this, and I can do much more good here helping you fight your demons than sitting in some musty vampire-ridden castle playing what barely qualifies as euchre.” Selena sighed. “Who better than me to stay for you?”
“…It might be a while…” I say, trying to save her from my misery.
“I’m prepared to wait as long as you need,” she said. “After all…I’m an elf. I have all the time in the world.”
|
I did not expect to actually -meet- her. To me, she was like some minor deity - not powerful enough to be 'real' in the sense that I am, but someone I had already known in ways I couldn't fathom in my existing mind.
She asked me a question that baffled me, and had tugged at strings.
She had what I'd describe as a desperate look, as if pleading for me to remember more than just her - and wore what I'd describe as rags; damaged from her incomprehensible journey.
So I pulled her into my abode, closing the door - and up the stairs to my room.
The family, my parents, weren't home at this time so there wasn't much I needed or had to explain to them how what amounts to a personally imagined waifu became a real being.
The next few hours could be aptly described as us bonding over a shared history that exists in a quantum state of 'could-be' and 'should've been' with a 'hasn't been' sprinkled in for reality's sake. As she acclimatised to the understandings of why I haven't had the blessed drive to continue, we fostered a flame of sorts.
Her name, as well, was a bit of a quantum thing, beginning during a vivid night in Milan, I knew her as Milanne' Nokka - a 'muse of the night in Milan', so to speak. Then, she corrected me with 'Miranne Nokka' and had practically haunted my more...
Uh...
Private corners. Mentally speaking.
But now she's here, the fact that she unashamedly exists has set something in me aflame, and she knows.
Oh, she knows...
But first, a celebration of two lovers reunited; of what amounts to a deity of hidden standing, and a man whom she knows way too well.
\- - - A ludicrous amount of time passes as we're 'warming up to eachother'.
Yet only a few minutes pass to the outside world.
After that, the two of us start collaborating on the book that was meant to be written.
An apt recounting of the adventures of Rennik Sadorn, and a humble summary of the vast creation I had aspired to invoke when I was younger.
...Good thing I have two computers, and a chair to spare for her!
|
PJRama1864
|
OSadorn
|
2024-03-12 17:45:25
|
2024-03-12 17:38:05
| 260 | 17 |
kujvz1f
|
kujun2t
|
1bd1w5u
|
1bd1w5u
|
[WP] Scientists discover that lightning has a message embedded in the electromagnetic discharge. It reads, "The End is coming, It draws near."
|
*“You will take my hand,”* the Mind Warper commanded.
The subject of the order, a forty-year-old man named Charles, struggled to resist. No. He would be in control of his own destiny. What cruel trick was this anyway? Why was the infamous Mind Warper bothering himself with the fate of an ordinary IT tech? It was a blustery, overcast day, but Charles’s shirt was soaked with sweat. His muscles betrayed him, he extended his arm, taking the hand of the Mind Warper.
“Good” the Mind Warper said with what sounded like relief. He stared at Charles. *“Carefully, climb off the barrier.”*
Hot tears and snot rolled down Charles’s face as his muscles moved him towards the Mind Warper.
“Please, just let me be.” Charles pleaded. The Mind Warper shook his head stoically. Charles sobbed hysterically as he moved to descend, distressed that his body moved of its own volition. For a moment his balance faltered, he could feel himself about to fall backwards. The Mind Warper held a tight grip, steadying Charles and then pulling him back down to safety.
“I hate you.” Charles spat. The Mind Warper’s dark eyes were steady as he reached up and wiped the spit off his face.
“I am sorry to take away your free will.” The Mind Warper said somberly. He looked over the barrier, to the fall below, then back to Charles. “But I couldn’t let you go through with it.”
“So, what now, you make me some minion?”
“No.” The Mind Warper replied. “*You will go home, tell a loved one you are in crisis, and call this hotline. You will attend at least 5 sessions of therapy, take any prescribed medicines as directed.”*
Charles tilted his head in confusion, but walked back towards his car, already compelled to go home.
The Mind Warper sighed, looking out over the barrier, letting the wind whip his hair around his head. A black sedan pulled up, the window rolling down.
“Adam, there you are.”
“Good afternoon, Lady Espionage… I mean Cate.” Adam, AKA the Mind Warper sulked towards the car.
“Rough day?” Cate asked as Adam got into the car.
“Sometimes it’s just rough, not knowing if they will just try again after my suggestions wear off, you know?”
“Understandable, but I need your help.” Cate airdropped some photos on Adam’s phone. Adam looked through the photos, group of young men, most likely teenagers, with guns pointed at one another.
“I intercepted some phone calls. Captain Justice is on his way to a gang standoff. We should have a five-minute lead on him, but we must rush” Cate explained as she began to drive, speed limits be damned.
“Sweet lord…” Adam crossed himself even though he wasn’t religious. “Hopefully we get there before he does.” Both sat in tense silence. Captain Justice didn’t hold back in his super strength; more than a few petty thieves and muggers had fatally learned too late that the city’s hero considered himself judge, jury, and, most of all, executioner.
Would they get there in time before the gangs hurt one another, or worse, Captain Justice arrived to “save the day”?
|
He pulled out the last man from the rubble of the collapsed building and made sure to properly sling him over his shoulders before he was in view of the cameras. He smeared a bit more dirt over his cheek to make sure it looked good.
This chump made 18, and the papers would eat it up for at least a news cycle. He had crushed the windpipes of two, but he made sure they had a few ton of rocks on them to escape culpability. Those two would bring him to an even 600 across his lifetime. With their brave sacrifices to the greater good, he grew stronger and more handsome each time.
"Dashing Dorian Deserves Medals!" he thought they'd write. He couldn't think of a last D word he deserved. The first part was good, though. He'd ask his publicist to say a few words.
"DORIAN! Will Janice the Jewel be helping clear this up?"
He turned to the reporter and smiled.
He started to answer and had to pause. Behind the reporter was one of... them.
He thought he had heard someone while the second donor today was trying to take in air, but he hadn't seen anyone. He didn't have super sight. Yet. He started to walk towards his nemesis and pointed a finger. Dramatically, of course.
"YOU."
\[Choose your own adventure! Who is standing behind the reporter? Plaguebringer, Ezekiel the Damned, or Bob? Most popular vote when I wake up wins. Or no votes and it ends here forever.\]
|
HealBeforeZod
|
ZtheScribe
|
2024-05-24 03:43:19
|
2024-05-24 03:20:42
| 77 | 25 |
l5f94q3
|
l5f6elf
|
1cz9w6a
|
1cz9w6a
|
[WP] You just thought the townsfolk were being nice, occasionally sending you gifts and treats. Recently you found out they were actually offerings, as the village was afraid you'd attack them otherwise. You decide to go clear up the misconception.
|
"What happened to the cookie?" I shouted from the kitchen. The empty jar of cookies - cookies that I had baked myself just that weekend - contained only a single half-eaten cookie, with a comically large mouthful taken out of it.
"What's that, Sam?" Lauren shouted back from the living room.
I seized the evidence and marched in. "What happened to the cookie?"
She looked at me, apparently bewildered, but I was sure I could detect guilt beneath it.
"There was a cookie when I left for work," I said slowly, trying not to grind my teeth. My dentist says I grind my teeth too much, and my therapist says its work-stress induced, but, I ask you, who needs intergalactic chronovores to raise one's blood pressure when you have this kind of crime to come home to.
"You must have eaten it and then forgotten about it," Lauren said. "You've been doing that kind of thing more and more recently. Did you hand in your notice like we talked about?"
"Don't change the subject," I snapped, changing it back. "I distinctly remember leaving this cookie in the jar, to enjoy when I got back. And somebody-" I glared at her "-has eaten it."
"Well, it wasn't me."
"And," I said, because its the details that matter in these kinds of cases, "you didn't even put the lid of the jar back on properly. That's how cookies dry out."
Floored by such incontestable evidence, my wife could only glare back at me.
"I don't ask for much," I said, "but when a cookie has my name on it, and when I've had a day like today traveling to more days than I can remember, I just want to come home to my cookie and forget, for one minute, that our universe is beset on all 7 dimensions by creatures that would like to eat us instead of cookies."
"For the last time, Samantha," and I knew I'd gotten her attention because she used my full name, "I did not touch your damn cookie."
"We can see about that, can't we?" I said, and I pulled out the time rewinder from the chain around my neck.
That finally seemed to get her full attention. "You didn't quit!" she snapped.
"Just as well," I said. "Because now I can hop back through the day and find out what happened to this." I shook the cookie at her.
The cookie was still soft, much softer than a cookie should have been had it been exposed to the air all day, and it broke into pieces that scattered across the living room floor. Lauren looked at me in disgust.
I spun the time rewinder with a practiced flick. Twenty minutes would do for a first hop, and then I would keep hopping until I caught the cookie-eating culprit in the act, misuse of government property for private gain be damned.
"Wait-" Lauren said, but then the universe blipped and I was still standing in the living room, alone in the past with only the memory of my future anger to sustain me.
I marched into the kitchen.
The cookie jar sat on the counter, open.
The cookie was in the thief's hand, and half into it's mouth.
The thief stared at me, with timeless eyes that see the universe in more dimensions that scientists currently know about, and bit down on the cookie with it's large and very uncomical mouth. It chewed for a second, and then spat it out.
"That was a waste of a good cookie," I said.
The chronovore put the remains of the cookie back in the jar, and did not put the lid back on. Instead, it took a step towards me.
Out of the window, I saw Lauren's car pull into the driveway. She was getting home from work. It would be another twenty minutes until I got home, and there was a chronovore loose in our home.
I couldn't jump forwards twenty minutes, because then the chronovore would be free to eat a hole in the fabric of our space-time reality, indiscriminately consuming Lauren and my house along with the neighbor's yappy dog and the neighbor too. I could live quite happily without three of those things, but I visited a thousand eras in both past and future and I could say with some confidence that there was only one Lauren.
No, I needed to distract it for twenty minutes or so, because I had seen that there was a timeline in which she did not immediately get devoured by an extra-dimensional being with an insatiable appetite, and that seemed like a pretty good outcome in the circumstances.
I searched around the kitchen for a weapon. Lauren, my beautiful, brilliant wife, had of course tidied up my mess that morning and the kitchen was unfortunately pristine and devoid of dirty knives left conveniently out on the counter.
"Hey asshole," I said to the chronovore. "Aren't you going to put the lid back on that cookie jar? Otherwise, it's going to dry out..."
\---
More stories at r/jd_rallage
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After rewinding, I erased the texts. I then sat on the couch, watching the ball game as I drank a brew, acting as casual as I possibly could.
Right on time, Martha's key entered the lock, as the metal mechanism rotated, I fought to keep my pounding heart steady.
Martha looked as I knew she would. Her mascara ran down her face in fat, black globs.
In my previous attempt, I sat on the couch, pretending not to notice her, hoping she'd drop it.
I knew that wouldn't work, for take two, I rushed to her, my arms outstretched, my face wrought with compassion.
She gave me a halfhearted shove away, at which I looked at her with a pained expression. This caused her crying to redouble. I hobbled her over to the couch as she bawled, stroking her back and whispering sweet nothings.
"How could you, John?" She asked.
"How could I what?" I said. "What's wrong honey? You see a dead dog by the side of the road?”
"I know what you did." She said. "My coworker, Tara, saw you and *her* at Henry's Pub."
At that, she began making a wracking, coughing, hiccupy noise.
"Hon, what?" I asked, amazed. "And you believe her?"
Martha looked to the ground. A long time passed before she answered.
"I don't know." She said.
"You don't know?" I asked, incredulous. "And you haven't even asked my side? You know you're married to me, not Tara."
"Well?" She said. "You haven't denied it."
"Well, I am now!" I lied. "I am not cheating, dear. I had a business meeting at Henry's the other day. But, honestly, that you'd even believe it. God, Martha! The woman was at least in her sixties! Did Tara mention that?"
"She said she was a younger woman." Martha said quietly.
"And you believe her?" I asked.
"I don't know."
"Check my phone if you're still not sure." I said. "I have nothing to hide."
Martha very hesitantly reached out to my outstretched phone. She took it and browsed my texts, Facebook Messenger, and looked at various apps to see if they're hidden messaging apps.
She found nothing, of course, as I was wise enough to delete it all in this timeline.
Within a few minutes her sobbing redoubled with renewed vigour. She flung herself to my lap and laid there like a crumped flower.
"I'm so, so sorry John." She bawled. "I am so sorry. I can't believe Tara would do this. I'm talking to HR tomorrow."
"Oh, hon," I said. "It's okay. She's probably just bored with her pathetic life. Didn't her husband pass recently? And her kids live a few states away? She just has nothing going on in her life. Pretty sad, honestly."
Martha nodded into my jeans, smearing her makeup all over the denim. I frowned. I liked those jeans.
All the same, I stroked her hair, rocking gently until she final-fucking-ly fell asleep.
At that, I extremely carefully extricated myself from the couch, replacing my lap with a soft pillow.
I had only a few minutes as I whipped around the apartment, changing my pants, fixing my hair, and putting on cologne.
I shot a quick text to my fling that I was on my way, there in ten minutes.
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jd_rallage
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None
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2023-05-25 12:53:30
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2023-05-25 12:08:49
| 149 | 55 |
jlk3xl3
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jljylxm
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13rejv4
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39p2r2
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[WP] Being invisible has its perks, but you can't exactly sign a lease. As such, you've become quite the expert lockpick to always have a place to sleep. When you settled into the cozy lake cabin to get out of the rain, you hear "We've been expecting you" from the shadows.
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Five simple words. Or was it six? Let’s call it six because that makes the phrase symmetrical and everyone loves symmetry.
“Peek-a-boo! I see you.”
It was the invisible man’s favorite game. He’d approach unsuspecting victims and scare the pants off of them with those six simple words. Hell, one time he effectively scared the pants *on* his buddy Ray (it should be noted that Ray was on the toilet at the untimely time of his unappreciated pranking).
But it was all in good fun. And more often than not, that good fun was even harmless fun. “What’s the point of being invisible if you can’t have a good time with it,” the invisible man was wont to say. To be sure, our invisible jester-prince was more jester than prince. No person off limits, no joke too far. Indeed, the invisible man was an equal-opportunity prankster.
It was a well known fact that our resident invisible man was in fact no resident at all. That is, he was homeless.
Now before you go on empathizing with our hapless hero, you must have all of the facts—one must not jump to conclusions. The invisible man was not homeless out of necessity, nor out of happenstance; no, the invisible man was homeless by choice.
You see, when one learns as an invisible boy that one can steal candy bars without so much as raising an eyebrow, one grows up to be an invisible man that will steal shelter without so much as raising a penny.
Now, where was I? Oh yes: it was a well known fact that our resident invisible man was in fact no resident at all. The invisible man “couch surfed” his way through life. Conventional wisdom tell us that “couch surfing” implies an inherent level of consent provided by the owner of said couch—that was not the case for our visibility challenged hero. For that reason, we’ll call the invisible man’s tact “home invasion.”
Residents in town began to grumble and groan at the thought of an invisible prankster living among them. Even his friends grew tired of his tireless antics. And, you know what, it makes sense. That would get old and fast. We’ve all been around the guy for whom everything is a joke and nothing is sacred. You know the guy in high school who walked around the locker room naked, whipping kids with a wet towel shrieking and laughing never realizing that he has already peaked in life. Nobody likes that guy. The invisible man had become that guy.
And so it was that one day, the jester-prince became the jestee-prince.
One night, the invisible man sauntered into—that is, again, committed a home invasion—a vacant bedroom that he frequented. It was in a quiet house, in a quiet neighborhood, on a quiet street. You see, even pranksters like a good night’s sleep.
As his head hit the pillow, the invisible man heard five words that shook him to his core.
“We have been expecting you!”
You see, it’s five words, not six. From earlier. “Peeka-boo. I see you!” Five words. It works better that way. It’s symmetrical. Like I told you, everyone loves symmetry.
Anyway…At the sound of the words, the invisible man launched himself out of bed and onto his feet. Only, since they were expecting him, they must have been expecting that reaction, and so as he landed on his feet he was coated from head to toe in colorful, neon pink corn starch, a sack of which had been cut from above his head.
At that moment, our invisible hero was no longer so invisible. At that same moment the invisible man’s friends realized their shocking lack of foresight and paid dearly for it.
You see, being an invisible man didn’t just mean that he didn’t have to pay for candy, or shelter, or the myriad other things one expects an invisible man may steal. It also meant—and really, had any of them given this even a second of thought it would have been obvious to them—that the invisible man didn’t need to buy clothes.
And so it was that the invisible man’s friends saw the invisible man’s pecker and all agreed to leave the pranking to the professional (i.e. the invisible man) on a go forward basis.
At the end of the day, the invisible man had also learned a valuable lesson. Don’t push your friends too far, or they may be forced to think hard on a way to get you back. And, it’s a good thing to keep in mind for us all, as we—let’s face it—all have friends who are rather dim witted who may pull a prank that leaves your pecker—or any other unseemly area—exposed in a less than flattering neon pink powder.
________
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out my other stories at r/InMyLife42Archive
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An earth elemental has many ways of concealing itself that one would never think of. As you traipse ignorantly through the woods they are always hiding. Watching. It could be an innocuous tree stump, or a mound of leaves, or even an oddly shaped acorn. Next thing you know you're facing a twelve-foot fall giant of dirt and moss ready to pound the very air out of you. Never did I expect to find one in a cabin, but that's exactly what happened one rainy night. Maybe a child had brought it in thinking it was a pet rock, or a farmer brought it in clinging to its boots. I suppose it doesn't matter how it got there, what matters is that I flew through the lock as I always do and the next thing I hear is "we've been expecting you." When I heard it use the plural "we," I expected something far more innocuous, such as a pack of shadow imps. That was before I recalled that earth elementals don't understand the common word for "I."
The creature morphed into vines, completely covering the walls and doors, trapping me in. Black flowers erupted and trained their pistils on me. A single blast would fill the air with so much particulate matter that I'd be forced to dissolve. My molecules shuddered in terror, for I thought that death was all but certain.
It was then that I remembered my reflections on the nature of consciousness. All I needed to do was somehow separate myself and then come back together as a whole. It had never been done before, but if there was a time then this was it. The first thing I did was start to swirl, going into tornado form. As expected, the pistils started blasting black dust. If I had stayed in tornado form the dust would have choked the twister and taken me with it. Instead, I focused as deeply as I could on dispersion, imagining myself being in multiple places at once.
For a moment I thought it worked when I could no longer perceive anything around me. The next thing I know I'm ingesting the black dust into my form. That's when it happened - I became a flurry of smaller twisters buzzing about. It was as if I had counteracted the black dust by harmlessly consuming it. I can't say I understand how it works, perhaps it was magic in the dust that made it happen. Scholars have attempted to study it for years, but none have been able to reproduce it.
Needless to say, the earth elemental thought they had destroyed me and retreated back into whatever form it was in. That's when I took my smaller twisters and quickly exited through the lock, unable to believe that I'd somehow survived.
The damage was irreparable though, as no amount of elemental magic has been able to put my forms back together. The change rendered me incapable of battle but did have a silver lining. As you know, the school you are flying in will never have a shortage of teachers.
r/StoriesToThinkAbout
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None
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armageddon_20xx
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2023-01-20 04:38:53
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2023-01-20 01:54:32
| 533 | 22 |
j53rrk1
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j536gn7
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10gh61d
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10gh61d
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[WP] A bar called “The Alibi” that’s notorious for being just that.. an alibi. Often packed with ex-cons, the customers of The Alibi adhere to a silent, but strict, code: If they say they were here, we saw them. They’ll always back an alibi, no questions asked.
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**ALIBI'S AFTERTHOUGHT**
The Alibi served many functions, and its rules were simple.
Firstly, if you planned to use the Alibi for its implied name, you had to shoot Alissa a text first. Alissa kept a ripped copy of everyone's credit cards in a secure drawer behind her desk. She would use your card to buy a beer, and keep the receipt. She would keep the beer for herself or her staff, of course, but for the cost of one pint on tap, you had yourself a get-out-of-jail-free card. A good deal, by anyone's standards.
The second function was jobs. Although tensions were high in Caldew, not every gang had every skill they needed at all times. Some of the criminals were more freelance. For the right price, you could get a top-tier hacker, or a surgeon to patch up one of your thugs who couldn't be seen at the hospital. You could hire muscle, of course, but that was easy. There were more rare and in-demand skills than that.
The third function was recruitment. Alissa was not personally involved, but when young men and women came of age and had no better prospects, there was a room in the back where a gang leader could grab their latest bruiser, sneaker, or spy.
Of course the lawmakers knew almost all of this, but Alissa hadn't made it to her position by being careless or thick-skulled. She had blackmail and bribes for every possible problem prepared at all times.
There was only one problem Alissa hadn't thought would come knocking on her door: freakin' superheroes.
Superheroes weren't a *thing*. No one dressed up in spandex to enact vigilante violence. Superpowers weren't a thing, either! Yet here they were, a group of probably fifteen guys, barging into Alissa's Alibi and wrecking the place.
For a split second, the security seemed unsure what to do. When they jumped up and started putting the leotard-wearing losers on their rears, most of the regulars had already begun their counterattack.
Alissa herself got involved, not needing or even wanting to use anything other than her fists. Their outright audacity had her seeing red.
It took less than fifteen minutes before the fight ended, just as abruptly as it had begun. All of the wanna-be watchmen, on an unseen signal, turned around and ran. All except for the one Alissa held in a suffocating rear naked chokehold while her favorite bartender pelted him with the best featherweight punches she could.
Disturbing the Alibi was, under normal circumstances, grounds for a very immediate vacation from the land of the living. However, for the first time in the six years since Ali had founded the bar, she brought someone into the back room that had been kept empty, save for a few knives, lengths of steel rope, and hammers. Its purpose was self-evident.
It took about twenty more minutes to get her answers, with some enthusiastic help. Ali then picked up her phone to start a group call with the two biggest gang leaders in Caldew. She stepped out into the cool, slightly drizzly night to collect her thoughts while the call connected.
"What's good?" One of the voices responded.
"Ali. Must be important for you to call both of us at once."
"I need both of you to take this seriously. I had a breakin at the Alibi."
"That *is* goddamn serious. No way it was any of my boys, right?" The first man responded.
"No, neither of your crews were involved. This was...well, it was a group of fifteen guys. Very sturdy guys. We gave them a thrashing, broke tables over them, they did not shed a drop of blood, and not one of them got knocked out either."
"Okay. Could be simple luck." The second voice responded, already bored of the call.
"No. I kept one of 'em. Got him to tell me a very interesting story. Someone out there is *inventing* superheroes. They've apparently synthesized a drug that can cause advantageous mutations."
The second voice scoffed. "If there was a drug lab working on human enhancement, I'd have bought it already."
"They're motivated *against* crime. This round they were all tough. Apparently with each fight they gather more data, and the men can receive another dose. Next round is more powerful, and when they get back from the second fight, they can get a third dose, which is even more powerful, and so on."
"So, what, superman? Green lantern? What kind of mutations are they supposed to get?" The first one asked.
"I don't know, because my...um. Newfound friend, he didn't know either."
"And who were the volunteers?"
"Memory wipe. Not sure, but if you want to lend me a contact in the police to run their faces against missing or wanted posters, I'll share everything I learn."
"Superheroes. Pff. Guess it was only a matter of time before reality became stranger than fiction." The second voice replied.
"Uh, yeah, speaking of round two..." The first gang leader said, as his voice faded away from the phone. "Someone *made* of fire is walking right into my Grave!"
----------------------------
I'll continue on my sub :) r/nystorm_writes
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Detective Quincy entered the locally famous Alibi bar east of Los Angeles. It was a smoky, dimly lit bar filled with ex-cons, their rough exterior and hardened expressions betrayed their past lives behind bars. The air was thick with the scent of cigarettes and cheap liquor. Glasses clinked and low murmurs filled the room. The patrons sat at dark wooded worn tables, nursing their drinks and swapping stories. The atmosphere was tense and uneasy, as if at any moment a fight could break out. In the corner, a lone figure sat, playing a melancholy tune on a worn out piano.
Leaning up against the bar, Quincy waited for the bartender Maurice to come by. He wore a tight black shirt and tight black pants.
"Hey I'm Maurice. What can I get you this evening?" The bartender asked.
"Just the man I'm looking for. How do you do?" Quincy asked. "I'll actually pass on the drink, but thank you, though. I'm here to talk about Jonathan Byron. You see, I'm a detective. Was he here last week on Monday? That's 10 days ago."
"Oh yes, Jonathan Byron. He was here 10 days ago."
Detective Quincy smirked. "Was he here on Tuesday?"
"Yes, he was here on Tuesday."
"Very interesting. What about Wednesday?" Detective Quincy rubbed his chin. He knew that Maurice was lying.
"Uh-huh."
"Thursday?"
"Yep."
"... Friday?"
"Jonathan's got a real drinking problem if I'm being candid." Maurice chuckled.
"That's funny, so his Alcoholics Anonymous attendance is purely for show then?"
"I guess so. I don't judge." Maurice shrugged. "What's this about anyways?"
Detective Quincy scanned the bar. He knew the place well, one of the only people on the police force that actually understood what Alibi was all about. "You see, Jonathan actually disappeared. This was the last place he was seen according to an eyewitness."
"Oh. He disappeared?"
"Yeah, but he didn't take any money or steal anything. We're actually worried about his safety, Mr. Maurice. There's no way he was here this whole week. He disappeared on Monday night. Last seen going east in Arizona on Tuesday."
Maurice scoffed, irritated by getting caught in the lie. "I don't know what you want me to say. Why don't you bother the Arizona police force and get them to shake their asses for you?"
Detective Quincy cleared his throat. "This may seem like a weird question, Maurice, but how's your wife recently? Has she been depressed?"
"What else is new, pal."
"Moreso than usual?"
Maurice narrowed his eyes at Quincy.
Detective Quincy frowned. "I only ask because, and I hate to tell you this, Jonathan was having an affair with your wife."
Maurice had a vein pop in his neck. "Wait. Who is this guy?"
"I thought you knew him? I thought he came here everyday?" Quincy mocked.
"Look, I don't know this guy, okay? And stop spreading this lie that my wife is having an affair!"
Detective Quincy took a deep breath. "Maurice, I only say this because Jonathan and your wife are both in grave danger, and I need as much information as I can get if they are going to survive. Now, I can imagine you don't care for Jonathan, but you still love your wife. We need to take action now to protect her."
Maurice looked like he was about to explode with rage, but he exhaled and pulled out a cigarette from his pocket. "Meet me out back."
r/randallcooper
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NystromWrites
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randallfcooper
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2023-01-23 01:28:20
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2023-01-23 01:22:27
| 292 | 116 |
j5hku5s
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j5hjzi3
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10ix9p1
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10ix9p1
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[WP] You are an eldritch god living in a mortal body. However, you and a friend got mugged, and now they want to know why your blood is black and how you could just walk off being stabbed in the throat.
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"Oh, God. Oh, God. What did you do to him?"
"I'm sick." Is the only thing I manage to sputter out, as the thin tendrils of my flesh interweave with each other, hastily sealing the fresh wound.
Emma's eyes are wide and moist with tears, the rims of which are red from crying. Our aggressor, twitching on the pavement, babbles and gurgles something incomprehensible. A steady stream of blood flows from where his tongue was. Emma lurches over once, placing a palm on the brick wall beside us in hopes of bracing herself. With little preamble, vomit splatters on the floor, and I take a step back to avoid getting anything on my pants. She lurches once, twice more, and then retreats to heavy breathing, her gaze locked on the pool of puke slowly seeping into the porous concrete. In the silence, the man on the floor burbles once more, whimpering once he came to the realization that his eyes were not where they were supposed to be.
"Sick how?" Emma breaks the silence, likely finding conversation preferable to beholding the sounds of a man's agonized final moments.
"I'm just sick," I repeat, refusing to elaborate. I motion towards her, fingers splayed in an imploring gesture, to which she flinches. It hurts, but I am understanding.
"I've seen sick people before," Emma stammers, voice quavering. She sounds angry.
She points an index toward me, wordlessly expressing her desire for space. Despite my limitless ability and my boundless knowledge, the contempt in her eyes urges me to shatter. "You're not sick. Don't - don't fucking lie to me."
I fall silent. So too has the man on the pavement. Emma breaks down into a litany of sobs.
"Some things aren't worth knowing," I attempt to reassure, stepping forward. She mirrors my movement, taking a step back. Emma seems to grow smaller, placing her palms on her face and slackening her posture.
"Get away from me," she meekly whispers, squatting on the ground. Blood pools around her shoes. What was left of the man's arm twitches. With the skin gone, it was easy to see the way tendons grew tight and slackened with every minuscule movement. "Please. Please. Please get away from me."
"He was going to kill you. He was going to kill me." I beg. One last ditch effort, one miserable attempt at a justification.
"But he didn't. Maybe he should have," Emma says, sharply. Her voice is rough from crying, and I am penitent, drowning in my awful weakness.
I say nothing. There is nothing left to be said.
Emma sobs soundlessly, crumpled on the ground.
A street lamp flickers periodically in a desperate attempt to stay lit.
The pieces of me peel away from my body, and I slither into the sewer.
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It happened a long time ago, when your world was young. You were a gleam in the eye of a protozoa, and I was the darkness across the solar dish.
I fed deep on the thoughts and dreams of disparate stars and planets. I was content, happy as you can understand it.
But I touched the minds of greater beings, older, larger even than I, of other spheres and disks. Cast adrift, usunder, spinning desperate without shape or form until...
This.
By the time I began to shape anew, no longer a gleam, but real things you were, in sheltered places, two foot walking. So my body took to shaping, moulding and...here I stand.
Hideous beast! Wretched thing! How I long for amorphous space!
But I can tolerate this thing holding me tight, keeping me here and bound.
So you notice, not exact same simulacrum, blood of black and wounds so easily brushed aside. I am still the black of space, in this ever turning sphere.
But I am weak, perhaps dying, and if I do, I take you all with me.
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Space_McFish
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Averander
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2023-08-17 07:09:43
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2023-08-16 21:24:23
| 20 | 13 |
jwjn84n
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jwhm045
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15sr3s0
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15sr3s0
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[WP] Aphrodite is talking to Ares. "Y'know, Persephone gives Hades flowers everyday. I wish you'd do that." The next day, Ares goes to the Underworld and gives Hades flowers. "Yeah, I'm not really sure why Aphrodite wanted me to do this, but here you go."
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The Hellish realm fell quiet as the sound of a sword being dragged across the floor echoed throughout.
Hades sighed. His nephew always instinctively made his presence known. As the darkened figure reached close, Hades cocked his brow at a familiar scent reaching his nose. ...Persephone?
That's when his face was shoved with flowers, big and beautiful of all kinds. Ares had brought him flowers of every species from all over the world.
The scent had brought in the sensitive spring Goddess as well, who perked her head out the large window above Hades' throne.
"Ares, explain yourself at once." Hades' voice boomed. Perhaps the only creatures that didn't tremble at this very moment in all of his kingdoms were his beautiful wife and moronic nephew. Persephone giggled.
"This is for you, uncle. I present you with flowers that wish to match your wife's beauty. Please accept my gift." He bowed.
"How sweet of you, Ares.' Persephone was certainly enjoying herself. 'My dear, won't you accept his declaration of love?"
"I refuse to take flowers from anyone but the queen of the Underworld. If you wish, gift them to your aunt."
"But- my love asked me to do this! I shall not return till you accept this, uncle." Ares was an adamant knucklehead, so his family knew to inquire further.
"Well, Persephone gives you flowers every day, she wished I'd do the same." The laughter that echoed throughout the darkened world almost made it seem like the divinity of the heavens. Persephone's giggles soothed the ears of the suffering and terrified them after the thunderous laughter of the King of the Underworld followed.
"Why must you laugh at a lover's plight? I am doing what she asks for, is that wrong?" He asked Kore, as she wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes.
"Oh my boy, you have much to learn! Hera would be in tears to hear about this!" Persephone wiped a tear and rushed to find his mother.
"Well lad, let me teach you the art of wooing the fairer sex..." Hades started, after taking away the flowers from his hand and placing them on his lap, finally accepting the innocent gift.
Ares sat beneath, sitting on one knee, and listened carefully as somewhere above the Goddess of Love sat expectantly, with cheeks flushed; clutching a beautiful sharp dagger that had been gifted to her by her dear the day before.
|
Hades:out of curiosity nephew, how did that conversation go?
Persephone:*currently rolling on The floor while ares explains*
Hades:it was a Mather if syntaxis i see. *Grabs some flowers given to him by his wife*,dear is it okay if I send ares with these?
Persephone:* makes an approval gesture with a hand while recovering from laughter*
Hades:next time try to ask for clarification just in case.
Ares: i will never gonna live this down, am I?
Hades: you can die this down but that is a different circumstance
Ares:... You wanted to make that joke A long time ago dint you
Hades:*smug expression* you would be surprised he w often I get the chance
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Ares_exists
|
RamiroGalletti
|
2023-01-07 15:31:13
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2023-01-07 05:44:35
| 86 | 57 |
j3cbz8s
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j3auu38
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105g4gs
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105g4gs
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[WP] Some time ago you, a powerful arch fey, had gone into a deal with a noble family: you would become the godmother of their young child. Years later, you find that the parents are dead and your godchild has been forced to work for their wicked step mother and two step sisters.
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I was browsing my gallery when I remembered. A deal, not my finest, but an interesting one nonetheless. Acting as a godmother to a human child, that was something I hadn't really encountered before. I wondered on the current status of the child. How were they, where were they in their limited lifespan?
With but a thought I bent the barriers between worlds, stepping through into a cool embrace of their waxing moon. I breathed deeply, smelling the fresh, new scent of this place. It was so different to home, changing in such a static path.
I swept through, approaching the home of my godchild. I wondered what their parents would think, about me turning up so suddenly. From what I knew of the human mind, they disliked surprises. What a dull existence I thought, but who was I to judge? They came and went in a blink of an eye.
Their quaint little mansion stood amongst carefully tended gardens. I rolled my eyes at the state of the plants, and their stunted growth. It didn't take much to give them a boost, presenting a more pleasing display. It should be free to grow wild after all, not bound to petty limits.
Through the shifting grass, and humming flowers, I approached their door, thinking. Should I knock, and avail their hospitality? Or how about the path of a sneak? I could try to catch them out in the rules of hosting. Or I could play some tricks.
I raised my fist to knock, before grinning. Nah, tricks was more fun. A puff of cream smoke shrunk me to the height of a pixie. It twisted round to from a pair of light wings, buzzing to lift me from the ground. I flew around their home, finding an open window. They were practically begging for me to enter.
Soaring through such bland corridors, I soon found my godchild. She lay curled on a worn bed, shivering beneath a threadbare blanket. How strange, she was a noble. Yet these were the boardings of the help.
A quick trip through the rooms, and I found the current state of things. Her parents were no more, much of their presence stripped from.this place. Instead, a new woman lay in the master bedroom, with two others in nearby, opulent rooms. They were no blood relation, but yet held a connection in the laws of this place. The idea of step family members was a strange concept, but that is what I was presented with.
They had consigned my charge to act as a servant, in place of her true life. Normally that would be a source of amusement, seeing them fight for prestige. But not this time. She was a reflection of me. They dared treat my property like that. It would not do.
I returned to my child, watching her sleep. What was her name again? A second passed, before it came to me. Irenda.
I adjusted her blanket, making it thicker and warmer. That would do for a start, but barely made a change. No, I would have to make sure she was restored to her rightful place.
\-----
I spent a day observing them. Irenda was treated like dirt. They made her cook, clean, and clean some more. Her dresses were much like her original blanket, only slightly better then rags. She moved with resigned sadness, thoughts of her true station clearly far beyond her.
Her stepmother was a piece of work. Loud and rude, constantly nitpicking at Irenda's work. Yet throughout it all she say on her backside, drinking away the fortune she had married into. Her temper flared whenever Irenda showed her intelligence, a jealous response I could tell.
Her stepsisters weren't any better. They laughed and bullied. They openly spoke of their night out before, and the men they had laid next to. I appreciated their openess, though despised their lack of tact. Such simple minds.
After the day, I plotted. First, I would wear them down. It was simple to include them on lists of events nobles should attend. Perfectly wonderful things like balls and performances. Yet at each one, I made things go wrong. A spilled drink here, a social faux pas there.
One particularly memorable one was where I tricked the daughters into believing some of the staff were members of the hosts family. They practically threw themselves at them, drawing all sorts of attention. Especially when I let the facade fade, with all eyes on them.
But I didn't waste all my time like that. For other times, I revealed myself to Irenda. We could speak freely with the others at one of their parties, though I didn't tell her exactly who I was. Just that I was a fairy godmother.
During these talks, I built up her confidence. I made her a few outfits that she looked beautiful in. I gave her knowledge that had been taken from her. I mimicked the requirements of human court etiquette, making her be a perfect noble woman.
Day by day, I watched her grow. Like a flower freshly planted, she blossomed under my care. She stood straighter, eyes lighting with a hopeful glow.
In contrast, her step family grew more and more miserable. They knew they were the laughing stock. But they could never figure out what was happening. It was just bad luck, and other people's fault. It wasn't their fault.
Their reputation in tatters, I went back to the door. Now to take away their money. I knocked this time, just as I knew they would be retiring for the night. Irenda knew this was coming, after I discussed it with her. Though I was looking forwards to seeing her face when I revealed my true identity.
I heard them grumble, as one of them called for Irenda to answer the door. She did so, smiling as I stood there. "Good evening Ma'am. We weren't expecting visitors."
I smiled in kind, speaking just loud enough for her family to hear. "May I enter? I have matters to discuss."
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The invitations were simple to put together.
Though you felt revolted having to write “niece” when addressing the red-haired one, it was all necessary to arrange this meeting. You would see how much your real niece forgave her...
Truly that Fairy Godmother should have told you what happened sooner. As much as you approved of her taking a second name, young Cinderella shouldn’t have been a servant! The fey blood in your veins boiled making greenery around you sprout wicked thorns. The nearby magic folk fled having finally gained the nerve to move in the presence of an Arch Fey as yourself.
𝘗𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦. 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. 𝘋𝘶𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘦.
Injustices were something no fairy liked to have affected them personally. It was hardly a secret that you were closer to humans than most.
—————————————————————————
Both girls arrived together precisely ten minutes early. You had to hold back a more feral smile as you sensed how powerful little Ella’s Gift grew.
The red-haired girl looked at you confused before a worried look crossed her face, you were rather small and thin by human standards. Pity no willow maiden blood flowed in her veins.
Cinderella led around the standard circles. She was just as graceful as always unlike the other one who looked out so fearfully. Could that one make it any more obvious? You waited at a wood table transfigured from an old stump. Many moon cycles had passed since you needed to revisit your formal upbringing knowledge. The putrid smell of iron lingered on the red-haired girl yet you didn’t sense any on her person. Good.
“It’s lovely to see you, great Grant,” Cinderella greeted you warmly.
A (normal) smile graced your face at the term she came up with being used. Humans were limiting themselves by only having two genders.
“As is to see you again, dear niece.” You replied in kind before turning to the other girl. “I don’t quite have your name yet. May I hear it, child?”
The look of fear on her face was delicious, “Ana—Anne, sir… ma’am…?” She seemed rather unused to the fey despite ample warning.
Nicknames were all too telling when famous or infamous. Still, you respected her attempt a little. “Lord shall suffice. I am both and neither, after all, child.” You vaguely corrected. Serving tea was a standard fair though you approved of them both bringing their own food to this. Anne didn’t drink any tea even when your niece did.
She was nearly identical to your sister. The very reason why you humored her when she was a child—mainly to teach Cinderall proper manners.
“I believe it is time to get down to business—” you commented when they were eating, “—Your Gift has grown spectacularly, dear niece. Tell me about your latest animal friends, are Bruno and Major still in good health? So much to discuss.”
Whilst Cinderella talked, you smiled viciously at the paleness in Anne’s face. Humans were always so amusing when trying to balance the rules with being courteous to your kind. “Lady” Tremaine obviously never warned her daughters about the dangers. Even illiterate peasants knew to be wary of Fae and magic folk, the smart ones were always the most paranoid people. When the conversation drifted to Cinderella’s recent-ish engagement the other girl grew even paler…
“Though I wish that Prince had asked for my blessing first, I trust you to remain to true to yourself. You are a strong girl, Ella.”
And there was that brilliant smile of your niece, “I appreciate your kind words, great Grant.”
“Of course, when I heard the story of that night from the Fairy Godmother,” you continued turning to stare directly at the red-haired girl. “I wanted to have that unpleasant woman and the girls' toes chopped off as repayment for you., dear niece.”
The reunion was hardly over after all.
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Shalidar13
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AkitaShiba-Inu
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2023-08-29 23:30:15
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2023-08-29 23:00:35
| 89 | 49 |
jyawslv
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jyasg91
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164tlfo
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164tlfo
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[WP] It finally happened. Through means not yet known, everyone's physical beauty reflects their innermost selves; the kind but portly girl is now an absolute bombshell, the asshole CEO is now hideous, and so on. Nothing prepared you for what you came face to face with in the mirror, though.
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The phenomena happened overnight it seemed. One day we all went to bed and woke up looking unholy like ourselves and yet more like ourselves than ever before. People's true inner selves were now being reflected on the outside too. A lot of upheaval occurred in the world. Hundreds of thousands of people that were outed as the vilest humans that inhabit the darkest crevices of society could not blend in anymore, and no amount of cosmetic surgery was able to change that at all. Funnily enough, cosmetic surgery
Became a failed enterprise in the medical field as those procedures no longer worked.
For literally billions on earth, their greatest wishes came through. Turns out a lot of people on earth are surprisingly wholesome and kind and it reflected in their faces and bodies now. I heard the entirety of the transgender community wept tears of joy as they transitioned overnight into their internal forms.
The craziest thing to ever occur though was the children. They transitioned too, but it turns out, kids change and grow all the time. LITERALLY now. Little kids would go to school looking one way and by day's end could end up looking like a fairy princess or child sized cowboy. They were the first to be outfitted with special watches so that at day's end they could be indentified by their parents, teachers, and guardians to and from schools and events. No one yet knows if they'll be able to do it forever and at will, or if it'll stabilize by the time they're adults.
The second group outfitted with the watches were the prisoners. That caused quite the chaos when inmates no longer looked as they had going in. Thousands were freed when their faces changed, as their crimes were once again brought back to court and determined them not guilty. Thousands more sent into prisons to replace them for their crimes. Abusers had blue hands and faces now, make up couldn't cover it up. Arsonists had charcoal stained noses. Theives' whole bodies became neon green. The truly vile became covered in huge ugly warts and boils all over their bodies. Many Politicians the world over now had comically oversized noses and distressingly thick fingers and tongues.
Then of course there were The Unchanged. Those who didn't change noticably by much on the outside. Those who wore their innerselves already proudly and honestly.
I fell into none of these categories. It took time for me to notice that first day as honestly i was exhausted and late for work. I rushed through my routines and was out the door so fast i didn't even glance in my cars reflective surface as i approached. I had changed into a being that made no sense. My hair had become like physical light floating in water. My hands and feet glowed in whisps of light trails if i moved them. My eyes lit up like someone took them from a Super hero in a comic book. I had an ethereal look about me. My little glows changed color at passing thoughts and moods. It took weeks to realize I had become what my innerself couldn't translate. Flip flopping so quickly my innerself was in constant Flux.
I was mercurial.
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No...
I looked in the mirror.
I had woken up to every device blaring. Finland's leading research institution, named the 'SCP Foundation' after an internet poll, was sending out a broadcast to every single electronic device on Earth.
`ATTENTION ALL EARTH CITIZENS: A GLOBAL ANOMALOUS EFFECT HAS OCCURRED. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. LOOK INTO A MIRROR AND HOLD AND SECURE. ANY DEVIATION WILL BE MET WITH LETHAL FORCE UNTIL A NEW NORMAL CAN BE ESTABLISHED. CHECK YOURSELVES IN THE MIRROR IMMEDIATELY.`
That one move would stop millions of riots from breaking out, and save an estimated 1.1 billion lives. Still, when I looked at myself in the mirror...
*Who hung up a 3 foot tall poster of a incredably busty arctic fox anthro in my bedroom. Why do I even know that?*
*Oh, wait.*
***WHAT ON EARTH IS THIS!?!?!***
\-----
Civilization would become far weirder. Every year to the day, people's bodies would update. Further studies from the now-global SCP Foundation found that the changes reflected one's inner personality. I, a full anthro (and changed genders), was a deviation from the norm, which was simply another human, so I decided to pull a Dr. Bright and apply at the Foundation.
The updates never really affected me anyway, other than changing my height by a couple centimeters each time. At least everyone's genetic makeup stayed the same.
Now, over four hundred years later, I'm starting to feel my Dr. Bright joke is running very, very thin.
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LittlestEcho
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Nomyad777
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2023-02-23 06:51:15
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2023-02-23 04:40:54
| 92 | 31 |
j9nmkb6
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j9na3ry
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119gjg2
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119gjg2
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[WP] You are The Evil King, and you are looking down at the body of your most fearsome and deadly fighter; all you can see is the orphaned baby girl you found all those years ago in the remains of a destroyed village.
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It’s the smell that rolls over you first. An acrid tang with a subtle sweetness. The precursor to pungent rot and decay as the fresh cloud of death wafts through the broken bodies of battle. Battle hymns carried to us from the nearby stone halls. A costly victory on the precursor of a much more deserved loss, the dread of death staved away by frothing mead and soft womanly bodies.
But in our immediacy, the prayers our saints whispered were harsh, slithering through scorched skins to reach across the pale to the departed souls in order to rend them back to this world as I saw fit. Disjointed limbs were picked through, evaluated for a higher purpose, and bodies stacked that required proper nourishment.
I had only vision-set for one body, however. My little orphan. My claimed daughter. My prized jewel.
By my estimates and scout reports, it took a small battalion of these insignificant creatures to bring her down. I’d followed pieces of her torn asunder during battle—a broken black claw dug into the armored back of a knight, fibrous membranes of wing webbing pierced through by arrow volleys, scale and tooth carved into the stricken faces of these knights of man, precious shed scale the hue of ripe bruises scattered throughout the filth—until I had traced them to this forsaken spot where she had been quartered and broken upon sword, spear and shield. *Defiled*.
How dare they take a claim of mine from me? Still. She could do better.
I extended a hand. “Get up. Who permitted you rest?”
In the moment allowed for the space of a breath, a shimmery pattern flowed over her pallid flesh, its orange hue restoring some of the vitality to this lifeless form. As I exhaled, the faint hue stilled and grew bolder, assembling and setting itself as proper symbols for rebirth. These symbols brightened so fiercely, smoke began to rise as they branded themselves into her broken body.
In the span of my next inhale, she was set and ready. Bone remolded. Muscle reknit. Skin regrown. A bleary purple eye fixed itself onto my visage and a voice that had been shredded by smoke, sword and stone addressed me once more. Music to my ears. “Master Recudir, my liege…”
I beckoned her with a flex of my fingers. However, she fell silent, head bowed. The puzzlement of her reaction was something I couldn’t trifle with when I had commanded her to stand. I turned away from her to take in the symphony of our victory instead. A scorched landscape packed with scattered treasures to salvage and lay claim to. “I said get up. We have much work to do.”
She shuffled to her feet, rose to her proper height, grafted wings unfurling. Off her rolled away the vivaciousness of my reclamation magic. Mere dusting on the corpses of men around her, but enough for their souls to tremble in their broken forms. I’d make use of them yet.
|
Zacarias strolled through the training hall. His steps were slow, needing a cane to support most of his weight. Yet he doesn't lag behind anyone, nor walks with a crooked spine. His stroll is refined and filled with power from his station, only slowed by the weight of the years and the crown.
He IS the king, whose ascension was bloody, violent, yet legitimate. And because of that, many call him Evil. His exploits are known in other lands, far from here... All received with awe and horror, for many still see his red hand dripping with the blood of his enemies... Enemies of his beloved kingdom.
He comes looking for someone. His youngest fighter, yet the most effective. One whose young age is more of an asset than a hassle.
Margarita was her name, climbing the military ladder... ready to spill more blood for her king.
And yet, her story is the same as most of her siblings... Not related by blood but by loyalty and love for the so-called Evil King... The same self-proclaimed monster that adopted her, and so many more from the ruins of their old village.
The king finds her... he is in no hurry, he has time... and can make for his children.
Especially his youngest. An innocent child between the ruins... crying. One of his many steps towards redemption.
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steadycoffeeflow
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Aljhaqu
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2024-08-16 14:48:08
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2024-08-16 13:58:12
| 21 | 15 |
liewt43
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liensjb
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1etkfe1
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1etkfe1
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[WP] For 10 long years war has raged while the Galactic Committee held a tight leash on the humans; stating "We do things a certain way". Now, with the enemy closing in, the leash comes off.
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Been a while since I wrote anything and it's not perfect by any means, but here is what I came up with.
---------------------------------------------
Sylfax Orno was scratching right by his only remaining mandible without scars as he read the latest report from his spy within the galactic empire capitol. "You are in deep manno this time, second trium Orno. That planet you guys hit in Andromeda was apparently a nursery for young Axgloms, and within minutes of it being blown into pieces they called for a grand meeting with only one ticket on the docket. They were fed up with allowing the war to go on and proposed that the empire allows something called Project Murderhobo to end it once and for all. I am still gathering intel on what the project is, but it is apparently serious enough that nobody would vote for full initalization. The vote that passed was for a partial deployment with the codename Flip-Flop. But even if it is partial, whatever it is scares the army leadership so much that the entire frontline has been ordered to retreat. Deep Five out."
The second trium of the fifth fleet was frantically searching his memories for any mention of such a project while he was still in the imperal army, but he kept drawing a blank. "What in the world are they planning?" He muttered as his mandibles clacked together in annoyance. The communications room was mostly dark since he had given the intel crew an early lunch, but it got brightly lit as the door opened without warning. "Tell me you have something that explains why all the troops we encounter are retreating without a fight, second trium. This is getting spooky and I don't like it. The frontline has been stuck for ages at this point, and it makes no sense for them to fly off now."
First trium Neran Claxx stood in the doorway looking decidedly haggard. His carapace was dull and the guard hairs along his neck were sticking in all directions. Sylfax could even smell manno, letting him know that his superior was distracted enough to have forgotten to clean himself after going to the waste room. Sylfax had never seen Neran like this, not even when they deserted from the empire after deciding that they would find more honor in battle as attackers rather than as defenders. The big fat paycheck and the rank they got for doing it had nothing to do with it of course. Mostly. "Deep Five reports that something called Project Murderhobo has been activated, with codename Flip-Flop designated as the degree of deployment. With those unconventional names I was trying to remember if I had heard of it before we switched sides, but I cannot say I have." Sylfax tried to keep his report professional, but the confusion was evident in his voice.
The panic on Neran's face though, that was immediate. "They did WHAT?! Sound the retreat! Now! Get us out of this system on the double! Code Doom!" Sylfax had no idea what Neran knew, but it was evidently bad enough to warrant immediate action. He picked up the communicator shell and shouted into it. "Fifth fleet, this is second trium Sylfax Orno. We are ordering an immediate full retreat! This is a Code Doom. This is not a test. Get moving!" Behind him, Neran Claxx had gotten a boost to his slithering speed that none could have replicated even in a sports event and was already halfway to the bridge. Sylfax stayed behind for a little longer to make sure the entire fleet had gotten the message before he moved towards the bridge as well. In the mean time the intel crew had come back holding half-eaten Blargian worms in their mandibles, half grumbling about being interrupted, half nervous about what it could be.
Once he arrived on the bridge, it was utter chaos. All the bridge crew was hustling back and forth, handing out weapons in case of boarding while a group was going through emergency pod procedures just in case. "Inform first and second fleet to engage warp and get their slow appendages back to the capitol immediately! We are at code Doom. And tell those lazy good-for-nothings in the engine room to push it as hard as they can! I am not dying in this dump of a system." The orders from Neran were loud and to the point. Sylfax Orno moved over by the first trium's side after he finally stopped shouting, and gave his superior a questioning and nervous look. "What is Project Murderhobo?"
Neran started to brush his guard hairs down in an effort to look more presentable, and to gain more time. But eventually he let out a breath and opened his mandibles in exasperation. "Humans, Sylfax. Humans from the Milky Way. Those insane imperials are going to destroy us all. Project Murderhobo is a last resort plan to take the humans away from their sanctuary and put them on the battlefield. They are the reason the Felinis have a permanent spot on the security council. The last time the Felinis let their humans out, they caused the Dead Sector. They are the 'plague' behind that blighted place, as you learned about in school. We just don't include the exact nature of the plague in our history books because using them was a warcrime of the highest order. They were only deployed to win an unwinnable war against a feathered race called the Unexo who wanted to rule the galaxy alone." The guard hairs went right back to being an unruly mess as he talked, despite Neran's best efforts.
"Codename Flip-Flop means they are deploying Australians to the war. The most dangerous type of human ever to be invented. They have no fear, drink a dangerous poison they call Great Northern just because they find it delicious, and they are the kind of spiteful being that wanders into battle without any armor while wielding a terrifying weapon known as the Flip-Flop. There is a reason the Unexo are no longer around. The humans killed and ate them all. Roasted them over fire and ate them in a gruesome ceremony the Australian called 'Barbie'. The only reason the humans stopped fighting was because there was nothing left to fight or eat. And they only follow the orders of the empire because the emperor and the Felinis they share a planet with are 'cute cats', whatever that means."
|
One of the last stories mama told me before I was sold to the Ammius Family was that of the Death Knell. She told me that even though we humans were small, weak-minded, and fragile compared to the rest of the members of the Galactic Committee, we knew the sound of our Death Knell from birth. And once you heard it, there was very little to do except heed the call.
*"You can run and hide and fight all you want,"* She'd told me that night, her gray eyes heavy and dark, *"But it's only a matter of time before it comes to collect you."*
*"What does it sound like, Mama?"* I'd asked, not realizing it would be the last words uttered with any semblance of innocence, *"And why can't anybody else hear it?"*
Her mama had told her stories about the planet Earth, where humans had once lived before the Families Ammius and Gaiserc had taken over and secured humans as pawns for their war. Her mama told her about buildings with towers where the Death Knells slept, waiting in the lofty shadows for the next victim to summon with their metal tongues.
It used to bother me that I could not remember her answer to my last question. I'd spend my hours of training searching for her response, each distant echo of her words becoming another scar on my skin, another crack in my bones. I'd study the scars as a Gaisercish Shaman might study the bone broth of a freshly sacrificed Munsila, following each discolored line with my eyes until it became too dark to see, then tracing my fingers up and down my skin until I was too tired to keep searching for that illusive pattern I knew was there somewhere. Somewhere between my patchwork skin and aching muscles.
And sometimes when I slept, I was falling endlessly from a great tower to the tune of a strange and terrible symphony of sounds I could never remember when I awoke, not for love nor money. If any of the other humans that trained with me knew about the Death Knell or had dreams similar to mine, they never spoke of it.
But I grew up. And with that, the story of the Death Knells and towers became one more thing I couldn't afford to lose sleep or concentration over. Not with the war brewing. The Death Knell would come for me eventually, and until then I needed to focus on the present. The here and now.
The back door to the dorms slowly creaking open.
Delicately placed footprints that mimicked a building sighing in the cool night's breeze after a long, hot day.
There was no breeze tonight.
Words mumbled under the influence of sleep, followed by the shuffle of blankets as one stirs.
There is little that can fully muffle someone's last breath, wet and raspy as they choke on their own blood.
The pitter-patter of rain, not uncommon for this time of year.
It doesn't rain indoors.
Closer and closer the sighing footsteps came, each pause filled with the dying gasp of a fellow trainee. Tighter and tighter I gripped my own knife hidden under my pillow, my blood pounding like war drums in my head. Do I scream? How many are left before the assassin reaches me? Can I take them in a fight, or will I succumb to a similar fate? Does it matter? Is this all my life has come to? Is my Death Knell the dying breaths of those before me simply because I'm the furthest away?
My Death Knell...
No. This is not my Death Knell. This *will not* be my Death Knell.
All at once, my scattered thoughts settle and a calm fills me even as the sighing footsteps stop at my bed.
*This is not my Death Knell.*
A gloved hand wraps around my face over my mouth, then tilts my head up to expose my neck.
*I will not die tonight. This call does not beckon to me.*
The assassin freezes when they see my eyes open, and shock turns to excruciating when I jam my knife into the inside of their upper thigh. He howls and drops his knife, falling to the floor in a rapidly growing puddle of his life blood. I take his knife, the hilt warm and slightly sticky with blood, and thank whoever's listening that the blade did little more than graze my collarbone.
The assassin is dead in the time it took me to test the weight of his dagger against my smaller knife, tuck said smaller knife back into it's sheath at my thigh, and then swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand up.
When I reach the front door, which swings silently open, I cake my feet in the dust and sand so I won't trail bloody footprints when I make my way to each dorm.
You can run and hide and fight, but when the Death Knell is calling it's only a matter of time before it collects you.
|
IndigoSilverbell
|
MahNamPhillip
|
2023-06-11 16:39:53
|
2023-06-11 08:45:12
| 43 | 22 |
jnsprbo
|
jnrbnnz
|
146dwvr
|
146dwvr
|
[WP] Your superpower isn’t anything special. You can make stuff disappear behind your back then pull it back out again. When a friend at a party asks you to do it to them it sounds like a great laugh. But when you pull them back out they look older, disheveled, and are frantic to be sent back.
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“You mean … I’ve been sending objects to the future?”
Alex had returned looking quite ragged, and nearly passed out. We had urgently asked everyone else to leave while I attended to him.
“Yes!” Alex replied, “and after you sent me, I’ve been in contact with others. Or … will be in contact with them … oh, it’s all so confusing. But I’ve got to go back!”
“Wha, what? … What for?”
“There’s been a terrible plague, which has wiped out most of humanity. A few scientists have quarantined with their families, but most of the masses have died off… but it can be stopped! We happen to be at just the right time to…”
A loud knocking on the door interrupted Alex mid-sentence.
“I’ll go get it,” I said.
“No! There’s no time, let me get on your computer.”
“It’s upstairs, who the h-“
The knocked repeated, so hard the floor shook beneath me.
“Who the hell is that!?” I said, following him upstairs.
“You’re not the only one who can facilitate time travel. Now close the door.”
He began frantically typing at the keyboard.
“You were only gone for like, 30 seconds. How long were you there?”
“Three hours. They gave me instructions on how to avoid the plague altogether, but they also warned me that …”
*THUD*
*CRASH*
The entire house shook as my front door was kicked in. Boots thudded on the ground as the intruders began searching the house.
Alex whispered intently, “Lock the door!”
I turned the lock as quietly as I could, my heart pounding. Someone was coming up the stairs.
Alex was frantically scrolling through a large PDF of a patent filed by Monsanto, looking for just the right page.
The door handle jerked suddenly and I jumped back instinctively.
“UP HERE, BOYS,” shouted the man just beyond the door, “HE MUST BE HERE.”
The next couple seconds happened in a blur. Alex snapped a picture on his phone of a molecule on screen, then urged “Send me back, Now!!”
The door crashed open and the intruder spotted Alex immediately. This tank of a man came right for him, but it was too late. With a swish of my arm, Alex was swept right back to the future he visited moments ago, and then the world went dark.
——————-
Suddenly, Alex and I were back in my house, breathing heavy, adrenaline coursing through our veins, but safe. The doors were all perfectly in tact.
“What … the … hell just happened?!?” I asked. “The doors… they were kicked in, and know they’re fine! How did you get back? I didn’t pull you back, just suddenly we were back here.”
“Well… technically, it never happened.”
I stared blankly at him. “Of course it happened, we just survived that shit, what do you mean?”
“The scientists developed a cure once they had some more information about how the virus was made. The plague was accidental at first, but some other powerful survivors wanted to keep the world… culled. So they sent henchman after me once they traced my time leap.”
I sat there silently.
“So, in essence, while it did happen, because we were successful, none of it will happen.”
“You’re giving me a headache,” I replied.
“Let’s grab a beer and forget that never happened,” Alex said.
“Agreed,” I replied.
|
So here’s the deal:
My back is a portal. I can put things in and take them out kind of like when a cartoon character pulls something from behind them. Pocket dimension powers are handy, but they aren’t anything crazy.
I don’t know what mine looks like at all so when my friend wanted to check it out I saw it as a win win. When I pulled him back out though, it looked like he’d been in there for weeks and he begged to go back. Eventually he calmed down and a few days later he discussed the world as calmly as he could. While he was calm the experience left him in shambles and while this is recoverable within a few months at a ward so getting a straight answer is next to impossible.
From what I could gather, it was a paradise like living within one’s own imagination even coming equipped with living creatures. In that world Steve was able to live out all of his greatest dreams and desires from the relatively simple like getting a girlfriend to the more complex ones like becoming a hero or running his own business where he sells baked goods. He heard tales from the entities there of the fated hands that can give great gifts and just as easily take them away at their beckon call and he was eventually taken too.
According to him he spend 3 months in there and this world is all he talks about now. I feel bad for Steve and due to court order, I’ll never be able to see him again with me being relocated to make sure psychological well-being is kept
|
SilverSneakers
|
beholder_dragon
|
2023-01-26 07:56:04
|
2023-01-26 03:04:46
| 346 | 40 |
j5xrd46
|
j5wxch8
|
10lcgjs
|
10lcgjs
|
[WP] "And so I was cursed with immortality. Cursed to walk the earth for eternity, never aging past twenty five and never dying." "How old are you, then?" "...Seventy. It was quite recent actually."
|
“Can you really say you're cursed if you're only seventy years old? That’s not really curse territory, is it? More like a mild inconvenience. Even calling it a mild inconvenience would be a stretch since it hasn’t really affected you.” Diana said, not believing Xavier’s story in the slightest. Everyone always had some farfetched story when they came to see her, and in moments like these, she couldn’t help but entertain their delusions. Not to mention, entertaining their delusions got her out of doing any actual work, able to ignore the stack of papers on her desk. The ones that sat beside the framed photos of her loved ones and her favorite coffee mug.
“I’m telling you the truth. I’m seventy years old. Look, check my license. That will prove my age.” He pulled out his driver’s license, sliding it across the desk. Diana collected it, flipping it over, checking its authenticity.
No matter how hard she looked, she couldn’t find any signs of forgery. The way the light reflected off it, the correct number of layers to its design. If it were a fake, it was one of high quality. “Sorry, sir. I still can’t approve you for a pension.”
“But I’m seventy years old. Every seventy-year-old is allowed a pension. It’s the law.”
“Sir, even the best plastic surgeons on the market couldn’t make a seventy-year-old look as young as you do. Even with a license, I can’t imagine anyone approving your application. Is this for some sort of prank show? Are cameras secretly filming me? You’re the second customer I’ve had this month that’s claimed to be immortal.”
That was news to Xavier, unable to believe another immortal existed. “There was another? Who were they? What were they like?”
Diana tapped her cheek, trying to remember the name the man gave her. “Well, I’m not allowed to give customer details, but since it was a fake name, I suppose there’s no harm in it. He called himself Kevin, the grand wizard of Barlia. The one who slayed the awful beast, and claimed the land. The one who- Yada Yada. He was a real talker, that one. Said if I didn’t approve his request, he would kill the person most dear to me.”
Xavier gasped, the immortal feeling sorry for the poor women. Who had she lost? He knew he shouldn’t ask, but curiosity got the better of him. “Did someone die?”
Diana sighed, looking at the framed photo on her desk. It was a photo of Kipo, the blonde-haired bad boy with a gentle heart, who had been tragically killed off in season 2 of Sexy Kung-fu bad boys. She stared at the framed, animated man, letting out an even heavier sigh again. “I guess someone did die.”
The immortals heart wept for her, until he leaned over and saw the photo, growing more confused than anything. “Ah. Ok.” was all he said, standing upright again. “So, how am I meant to prove my age, then? Can they check my pulse or something?”
Pulling herself away from the photo, Diana thought about that. “We could cut you in half and check your rings. Like how they check a tree’s age. At least I think that’s how they check a tree’s age.”
“That isn’t helpful at all. Are you making fun of me?”
“No, not at all. I’m insulting you. This isn’t fun at all.”
Xavier took a pen from his pocket, folding up the form he had brought to the FSE Pension department. After writing a list of complaints, he pointed to their complaints box. “Don’t make me put this in the box.”
“Go ahead, try to stuff it in there. That thing hasn’t been opened in years. I think we still have complaints from before you were even born, Mr. Immortal.”
The man scrunched up the form, frustrating he couldn’t do anything to get this application through. “This isn’t over. I’ll find a way to get my pension.”
“Why don’t you try doing it online? That way, no one would see your face. I mean, they’ll still see your driver’s licence, but it’s less suspicious.” She said, deciding to offer him an actual piece of advice now that this conversation was dragging on close to her lunch break.
“Huh, that’s actually… helpful?” Xavier didn’t know what to make of that. He unfolded the scrunched up paper with a smile and scribbled a few compliments onto it. “Thank you. I’ll do just that.” He said, before putting his form in the thank you/compliments box. As the paper landed inside, a puff of dust escaped the box, like a spirit had been freed from its confines.
As Xavier left, a new person stepped forward, only to get blocked by Diana’s ‘be back soon’ sign. “Lunch break.” She said, leaving the line of already frustrated customers more agitated. Before leaving her desk, she smiled. “If you have any complaints, feel free to write them down. We are always looking to improve our services.” She teased, heading to lunch.
(If you enjoyed this feel free to check out my subreddit /r/Sadnesslaughs where I'll be posting more of my writing.)
|
Warning: The following contains violence and disfigurement.
\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_
**Description:** SCP-1763 is a male, measuring 173cms. It has blond hair, with abnormally pasty skin. His cells regenerate, making him functionally immortal. However, his cell regeneration will fail during any kind of combat situation, wherein another individual is attempting to kill SCP-1763.
**Dr. Fawkes:** "so..." *(Dr. Fawkes takes a breath)* "...do you have any plans? I mean, I can look for a cure...*maybe,* but..."
**SCP-1763:** *(Subject sighs)* "I don't know, you have any ideas?" *(Before Dr. Fawkes can answer, SCP-1763 hastily adds)* "what to do, not...y'know."
**Dr. Fawkes:** "Can you die?" *Dr. Fawkes pulls out his phone, opening the notes section.*
**SCP-1763:** *(Subject shakes his head)* "tried. My cells regenerate, I tried fire, but they generate faster than they can burn. Includes my brain," *subject groans, followed by* "...I mean, my brain will lose its capacity, but when it regenerates back, it'll be fine eventually."
**Dr. Fawkes:** "So...like Wolverine?"
**SCP-1763:** "Yeah, I..." there was a pause, before he said "...not in combat, *then* they stop regenerating. They thought of everything, unfortunately. Takes day before it comes back. Don't screw with a thaumaturgist, man!"
**Dr. Fawkes:** "Tragic, indeed..." *Dr. Fawkes begins typing on his phone,* "Well, do you want to be hidden, perhaps?"
**SCP-1763:** "Hidden?"
**Dr. Fawkes:** "Yeah. Hidden, like...from the world?"
**SCP-1763**: "I mean..." *SCP-1763 sighs,* "...if I'm going to be immortal, then...I should see the world, right?"
**Dr. Fawkes**: "Surely, but if you could be say...contained, like-"
**SCP-1763**: "Contained?"
**Dr. Fawkes**: "Yes. Keep you from the world at large, so you can be peaceful?"
**SCP-1763**: "I mean...I'd prefer not to."
**Dr. Fawkes**: *Dr. Fawkes sighs, cleaning his glasses, then reaching for his M1911 sidearm in his other hand.* "So, you don't regen during combat you say?"
**SCP-1763**: "What?"
**Dr. Fawkes**: "I'm sorry, but...it's my job," *Dr. Fawkes draws his M1911. SCP-1763, initially shocked, begins to rush at Dr. Fawkes, hands outstretched. However, two meters before reaching Dr. Fawkes, the gun is discharged twice, causing SCP-1763 to collapse to the ground, and Dr. Fawkes pulls out a knife, cutting off SCP-1763's arms and legs. SCP-1763 screams as this is happening,* "Sorry, but they'll grow back.
**SCP-1763**: "What are you doing, Jay!?"
**Dr. Fawkes**: "...my job, unfortunately...gonna be a..." *Jay grunts as he finishes cutting an off,* "...hard sleep tonight..."
**SCP-1763**: "Your job!?"
**Dr. Fawkes**: "Yep. Secure, Contain, Protect." *Pause* "Wait, I have a morphine-this'll make it better," *Dr. Fawkes inject SCP-1763 with a 25 milligram dose of morphine.*
*-*
**Addendum 2:** SCP-1763 has began to cooperate, following extended containment. However, SCP-1763 escaped December 2nd, 2019, and has no been recovered since. Its tracker was removed through currently unknown means.
|
sadnesslaughs
|
Jay_Pederson
|
2024-12-11 04:55:00
|
2024-12-11 02:55:00
| 227 | 71 |
m1ha46f
|
m1gszgq
|
1hbh9o7
|
1hbh9o7
|
[WP] In a world of magic, where wands are used, the world's top sorcerer tells you that in the first days of Sorcery, swords with blades embued with magic were used instead, and that your magic is too strong that a wand is simply not enough.
|
"What," Raena asked, confused.
"A sword would be better suited to one of your, er, talents, my dear. Thousands of years ago, when the strongest of sorcerers walked the land, they used magically imbued swords, not wands," Merlan the Summoner explained again. "A wand would not be able to contain and focus your magic properly. It would overload and explode. This is why your wands keep exploding and why you keep ending up here in the healers' ward."
"You can't be serious," Raena exclaimed with disbelief. "I am *not* that powerful! I can't be, I can barely cast a proper spell!"
Shaking her head, Merlan calmly explained again that Raena's magical capabilities were extremely high. The issue was the tool at hand, a wand, and was not capable of focusing her immense power. Raena sat there in the cot in the healers ward with a stunned look on her face. Clearly, still not believing the strongest sorceress in the world.
"Are you feeling up to a walk, Raena," Merlan asked. Nodding, Raena slowly got to her feet, not knowing what to expect. "Come dear, and I will show you what I mean," Merlan said kindly.
As they left the healers ward, they walked through the stone hallways of the academy. Their footsteps echoed in the silent halls as they made their way to the training grounds, which were empty at this time of night. The moonlight illuminated the sands of the training ground, and made the practice dummies look sinister and eerie.
"Here, dear, try the same basic spell as you tried earlier, but instead of a wand, use this," Merlan commanded, pulling a beautifully made silver sword from her storage pouch. The handle was wrapped with silver wire with a fire opal on the pommel, the sword itself shone with an inner light.
"I-I couldn't! Isn't that- Dawnfire? Its a relic! What if I damage it," Raena stuttered in disbelief. Dawnfire was once weiled by the greatest sorcerer to have ever lived, thousands of years ago. Baleor the Magus. A hero of legend. It was said he had killed the Mad God with Dawnfire.
"Come now, child. Do you really think a blade of this caliber would be easily harmed or destroyed? It's survived centuries of use by common hands. So come now, take it," Merlan said, holding Dawnfire out to Raena.
Raena hesitantly gripped the pommel. Then looked askance at Merlan.
"Go on, just a simple beginners spell my dear. Any one of the elements will do. Just focus through the sword, just like with the wands."
Slowly Raena gathered her power, letting it fill her as she concentrated on a simple fire spell. Holding the image of a small ball of fire in her mind, she focused on the sword and pushed. *Whoosh* A large ball of fire erupted from the tip of the sword rushing across the training grounds to *splat* on a training dummy that just happen to be in the way. The fire consumed it, leaving nothing but ash in its wake. Raena stared in dumbfounded disbelief.
"Well, that went better than expected," Merlan dryly noted. "It seems you are indeed a spellblade."
|
\[Skipping Steps\]
Dante followed the old wizard down the narrow spiral staircase. The wizard's stone tower felt cold and drafty. The wizard held a staff up in front of him with a glowing ball of light on the tip; it made it a lot easier to see than the few dim candles embedded in the walls. The entire experience so far had been exciting, and he couldn't help but grin to himself as he traveled down the steps. He was still at the beginning of his adventures.
"In the early days of Sorcery, enchanted swords were used as a focus. It required a great deal of magic power to imbue metal and over time they discovered other, easier materials to imbue...," he laughed with a wheezing chuckle. "...now any dolt with a wand thinks he's an arch-sorcerer. Wood's a great conductor for magic; but, it's horrible for storing it. "
"Is that why my wands keep breaking?" Dante asked. He knew he didn't need to say anything. He could have rushed the old wizard and skipped the backstory altogether; but, he was enjoying himself. Dante had the ability to replay moments of time like save files, and he spent a lot of years replaying a lot of the same ones over and over. He'd forgotten how novel new experiences could be, and he was in the right place to take advantage of them.
"Even the best conductor can be overloaded with too much energy," the old wizard replied with a nod. "Some wizards might tell you that you're lacking control; don't listen to them," he chuckled as they reached the bottom of the stairs. A long narrow hallway led to a single golden door; they continued forward. "Does a waterfall lack control? A raging river?"
"No...?" Dante chose to answer the rhetorical question. They seemed like poor examples though, and he wasn't sure the wizard was using the right analogy.
"YES! They do!" the wizard cackled as they reached the golden door. He tapped the glowing staff to it, and the door disintegrated into white dust. "But, that is the nature of their existence; to control it would fundamentally change it. Such things can't be controlled; but, they can be harnessed."
He stepped into a small stone room with a wooden table in the center. Three different swords lay on the table, a short sword, a rapier, and a large great sword.
"Which one will you choose to harness your magic?" the wizard asked as he gestured at the three weapons.
"What can you tell me about them?" Dante asked. He already had a choice in mind before meeting the old trainer. But, he still wanted to hear what the wizard had to say.
"The short sword is an ideal starting place for a Sword Mage," he said. "It has the perfect balance of power and speed if you don't know what you're looking for. And, of course, you can change your mind at any time and use a different one. The rapier is the quickest weapon Sword Mages can use, both for spellcasting and swordplay. But, if you want power, the Great Sword is for you. It can be tempered with two spells simultaneously for even greater flexibility."
Dante was slightly disappointed that he didn't learn any new information. But, it did make his decision easier. He stepped forward and grabbed the rapier handle. The sword he chose began to glow with golden light as the other two disintegrated into nothing.
"Excellent choice!" the wizard smiled. "Now, let's head outside and see what you can do...," he added. He walked past Dante and out of the room again. Dante lingered for a moment to play with the heft of the sword. It felt solid. It felt real, and deadly as he twisted it and thrust it forward. Then, the golden glow dissipated and a line of red text appeared in his vision.
\[Sword Mage spec - Rapier\] equipped.
"Oh, I can't wait for this anymore...," Dante chuckled. He turned to see the old wizard waiting for him at the foot of the stairs. He stepped to the door and shouted across the narrow hall. "SKIP!" he said. The wizard disintegrated and a new line appeared in Dante's vision.
\[Tutorial Complete\]
"Yeah! Now, I gotta go see what this can do!" he smiled as he wiggled his fingers at the air and a tall black portal opened. He stepped into it and disappeared.
\*\*\* Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is story #2087 in a row. (Story #277 in year six.). This story is part of an ongoing saga that takes place at a Corporation in my universe. The stories can be found in order on my subreddit: here.
|
DismalButterscotch14
|
HSerrata
|
2023-10-05 20:56:23
|
2023-10-05 15:33:09
| 60 | 34 |
k3mo7uy
|
k3l5b9f
|
170hzd0
|
170hzd0
|
[WP] In a world of dragons, sorcery, war, and monsters, there are many risks and even risk takers. Everyone though, elf, monster, or man knows to avoid those few ancient ruins that contain symbols of suffering and a word of the ancients, RADIATION.
|
Long ago, a single dragon flew over the ruins of Hokrish Mountain. Her name was Utaria. Bound by a curse that not even the Gods could undo, she was trapped upon the rock for eternity. Given infinite time to study the secrets hidden deep within the world, she rose to the power of a God herself. Still unable to free herself, it is said that she eventually wrought a spell so powerful that it tore her asunder, leading to what scholars dubbed the "Radiation."
It is there that Utaria's descendants, still trapped by the ancient curse, rose from the magic essence that defined her. They're comprised of a panoply of dragons and dragon-like creatures that have untold powers. From the foothills of the Shatterack Mountains, you can see their neon forms writhing in and out of shape high in the air. If you listen closely, you will hear their cries for freedom deep in the night.
Journeying to the Radiation is not just perilous, it's certain death. Not a single traveler has entered the Radiation and lived to tell the tale. Utaria's creatures, bored and craving anything new, will consume all that trespass their boundaries. Their power is unmatched, not even the greatest scholar that ever lived was able to compete with them for a single moment without being snatched.
We are only thankful that the ancient curse of the Gods keeps them locked away, for if they were to gain entrance to our world then I'm afraid we would all be in great peril. Nobody understands the curse, or why it works, and I'm afraid the only way to know would be to go deep within the caverns of the very mountain where it originates.
\--Snippet of a Letter By Scholar Magmius, Est. Year 1104 after the Crowning of Thistledale. 540 years before the Breach
Granted to the Museum by the family of Scholar Magmius
|
First time writing a prompt and english is not my first language.
“I want that dragon dead!”
“Sire we can’t attack the dragon at it’s hoard. The plaguedragon lives in the forbidden forest, we can’t reach her.”
“Pah, that beast has been pestering my kingdom since time immemorial. Find a way to slay her, I’m sick of her, every couple of years it ransacks our grain storage and shortly thereafter her brood descends that sicking Mushroom forest.”
“That might be true sire but how are we meant to approach? The last time your father Curie III send in an expedition they shortly returned and died an agonizing death over the next couple of weeks. And their armor could not be reused whoever wore it after died as well, albeit slower. The brood is also quickly deposed of by our glowing guardians – shall their fur be ever glowing.”
“Shall their fur be ever glowing … fine, then send for the Wizard immediately, he shall think of something.”
“Of course Sire, I’ll inform the mighty Oppenheimer immediately.”
\-
“It is I, Oppenheimer, you have summoned me Sire?”
“Yes yes, you are to find a solution to the menace Typhon.”
“The creature living in the mushroom forest Sire? What of it?”
“My knights reminded me that her lair is unapproachable. Because of the folly of the Ancients.”
“Aaah yes most unfortunate, well we could try several approaches Sire? All of them quite costly one way or another.”
“What do you propose Wizard?”
“Three ideas come to mind. First ask your elderly knights if they would be willing to slay the beast. They will surely die, but they might be willing since their names would go down in history, also give their families an incentive. Second the ancient texts mention a metal, which protects from the folly of the Ancients. The blacksmith could fashion armor out of it, if we are able to find it my Liege. Third, we wait for Typhon to approach the next time and fight it while it raids a grain storage or poison the grain in the hopes that this will kill it.”
“I like your ideas Wizard, even though I’m skeptical that she can be killed by poison if she lives in such a hazardous area. We shall do all three proposals together. Find out if there is a mine of this wondrous metal in my Kingdom, if not acquire enough from the neighboring kingdoms. Fashion suits of armor out of it with the blacksmiths and give it to anyone who is willing to fight the beast, I want at least 20 men. If possible find a poison which is able to injure the creature if not alright kill it.”
“Sire such things take time, I’m not sure if we will be ready by the next attack.”
“Well she hasn’t destroyed the kingdom yet find a solution as fast a possible.”
“If I may, if the guardians - shall their fur be ever glowing...“
“Shall their fur be ever glowing.”
“wouldn’t kill the entire brood I could study the young and find a suitable poison, maybe find a weakness…“
“Oppenheimer you know as well as I, that no one can control the guardians. They go wherever they please. Also I find the idea of the living brood rather uncomfortable. If you want a specimen you’ll have to find a dead one which they guardians left.”
“Of course Sire, anything else?”
“No get to work, I want that Dragon dead.”
|
armageddon_20xx
|
campusschampus
|
2023-05-03 17:31:09
|
2023-05-03 16:29:26
| 122 | 48 |
jiq0z5n
|
jiprbo8
|
136lj9v
|
136lj9v
|
[WP] In the history of the known universe, every war has only been fought with conscripted soldiers. The galaxy was thus unprepared when Humanity entered a galactic conflict with a trained professional fighting force.
|
For centuries the Galactic Confederation saw Earth as little more than an insignificant backwater planet, with the native sentient species, humanity, more interested in in fighting than exploration and discovery. In fact, most of their technological advancements were spurned on by conflict. Nuclear energy was discovered as part of a project to harness it for a weapon of mass destruction during the second of ultimately three devastating, global conflicts. Even when they began their own space exploration, it was motivated mainly by competition between the two largest nations on Earth.
​
The galaxy saw them as nothing but barbarians. Backwards savages. Their propensity for warfare was seen as a weakness as humans always seemed to be eager to bite off more than they could chew. They were impatient and reckless, not as cool, calculated, and diplomatic as the other galactic races. In fact, fearing that this would lead to their downfall, the Galactic Confederation declared humanity's home system a protected territory. No foreign vessel was allowed to enter. Aside from a few sightings of illegal vessels in the sky, and some incidents in the Earth regions of Roswell, Nevada, and elsewhere, this ban was extremely effective. Humanity was officially designated as an "Uncontacted Primitive Race" by the Galactic Confederation, one of the few races to be unaware of the vast Galactic Community surrounding them. Little did the galaxy know, this aggressive warlike tendency of this primitive species would in fact prove to be their biggest strength.
​
Things really started to change in the middle of Earths 21st century. The Hygna were undergoing a crisis on their home planet, as it was going through an unexpectedly rapid mass extinction. They knew billions would die unless a full planetary evacuation was put into place. The only problem was, they did not know where to go. Practically all nearby habitable planets were claimed by some other power, and attempting to settle on any of those worlds would cause a massive refugee crisis. Their only option was invasion. And the only viable planet to invade was Earth.
​
And it seemed to be a perfect candidate for invasion. It was inhabited by a primitive race that was still in the infancy of its space age, having not even developed faster-than-light travel yet. It was just recovering from what would be the last of its three major global conflicts. And its people were nearly completely ignorant of the other races of the galaxy. It would be foolish not to seize on the opportunity.
​
Or so it seemed.
​
Overconfident that their vast technological superiority would guarantee them a quick and easy victory, not much thought was put into planning the invasion, and it was relatively hastily organized. That was their first mistake. Their second mistake was underestimating humanity's resolve.
​
The invasion went horribly for the Hygna. Humanity's warlike nature meant they had more organized and properly structured militaries, and, while still less developed compared to the rest of the galaxy, more advanced strategy and tactics than would be expected for a race so primitive. But the most surprising innovation of all was that they had professional, standing armies, with soldiers specifically trained and prepared for years for conflict. Such had war become so normalized in human society.
​
Worse still for the Hygna, they had just violated Galactic Law, by invading protected territory and causing conflict with an Uncontacted Primitive, alienating themselves from many other Confederation member states. Yet many others defended the actions of the Hygna as necessary, pointing out the necessity to leave their home planet for survival. Their chief rival, the Yasak, declared war on them to protect what they saw as the underdog humans, forcing them to divert attention and resources from the invasion which was already going miserably. The allies of the Hygna, such as the Oturim, Ys'an, and Zylrot, as well as many others, jumped into the war, and consequently so did many allies of the Yasak. Quickly, it snowballed into a galactic conflict.
​
Many saw the humans as merely being the ignition of a greater conflict mainly involving the rivalry of the Hygna and the Yasak. But they turned out to be a far more important player than thought.
​
As their planet was ravaged with invasion and counter-invasion, it was littered with technology from all over the galaxy. When human scientists and engineers were able to reverse-engineer it, they suddenly were thrust into a technological stage far more advanced than their social stage of development, being still a species yet to develop cohesive political and cultural unity. And as a result, a young and reckless species with this level of power would inevitably spell disaster. They successfully fended off the invasion, forcing the Hygna to seek refuge among their allies' planets, but since the invasion had spiraled into a galactic war, the war was not over. Humanity saw this as an opportunity to expand their influence in the galaxy.
​
They aggressively began to outwardly expand and conquer their neighbors, including the Hygna and their allies. The use of professional standing armies proved to be incredibly effective, as the humans defeated armies many times their size. Soon, the war ended, with the Yasak, Humans, and their allies victorious. But the balance of power in the galaxy was forever shifted.
​
The age of humanity had begun. The history of the galaxy would never be the same again.
|
"The vacuum." Thought James Gadwell
"And a laugh at what followed; primal fear"
"That name for the empty void of space always caused two contrasting thoughts, emotions, reactions? Whatever you wanted to call them, it didn't matter in the end. It got me."
________________________________
The **human** interpretations were never succinct and often full of contradictions. "Difficult to read" was an understatement. "How could the **human** laugh at its own primal fear?" Thought Gri'sha the conscript. They turned to leave this one, tossed it aside into the void, and began attempting to read the next. They entered the bridge of the human ship through the missing cieling and found a body, opening the visor and subsequent skull underneath to read the contents.
"Seargent at arms connelly" is what the now bloody, makeshift seeming enviro-suit said on it's upper appendage wrapping. A small square patch on its opposite appendage depicting this one's home systems' star chart, somewhere in the vicinity of Beetlejuice. Gri'sha's tendril-like readers began precisely prodding and poking in the grey matter's electrical receptors, looking for instances who's words could still be read.
This one was forthright, "Finally!" Gri'sha thought,
"Recently deceased, synapses still firing. Might be easier to find this one's interpretations."
______________________________________
"First contact?! I wonder if this race will be politically inclined or another conscript based aggressor race for these Gol we keep hearing about?" Asked James.
"Move to battlestations!" Barked Jill without acknowledging comms officer James Gadwell. Recognizing the ship from one of her more classified dossiers that she had convinced fleet admiral harper to share with her. This was, in fact, a Dril ship. The famed most successful Scouts for the Gol when deciding whether or not to invade.
"Status, red, high alert, send a message to the fleet now! Highest priority. Transmit location!" She was basically yelling, surprising herself at her alarm. She reigned herself in for the next announcement, trying to sound calm and hoping the bridge crew hadn't picked up on her fear. **"Dammit connelly, now is your moment. You trained for this. Give'em hell"** she thought.
______________________________,,..________
"Trained?" Gri'sha grimaced.
She had "given them hell," both ships floated now, weightlessness. Other Dril worked to repair the engines after a pulse from the human ship knocked them out.
"Trained?..."
The word tasted.... bad. To use a human... thought, emotion, reaction.... They adjusted their reader ever so slightly, feeling for the next interpretations from 'Jill connelly's grey matter.
_______________________,,..____%%¿¿_______
"The ship can't be tracked! Our torpedoes won't target, can't follow! It's too fast!" Brick was panicked at this point and looked to seargent Connelly for direction.
She was calm, Yet her eyes betrayed a fear none of the bridge crew had yet seen her express. Time seemed to stop...
She smiled, and her fierce determination came back in a flash. "Were sunk, but the fuckers won't win, transmit all data being recorded on the enemy ship directly to this address."
Brick's console lit up with comms relay access, she glanced over at Gadwell who was writhing in pain next to his own console, now smoldering after the fire suppression system hit console and operator alike.
"Torpedoes are useless against those engines, but beam weapons aren't. This is fleet admiral Harper's personal terminal, begin transmitting now, and the fifth fleet will reign fire down on this motherfucker!"
Brick noticed that Connally was smiling at the thought of damning both ships and took solace with her commanders determination.
Jill Connelly was bleeding from the left side of her head where a peice of shrapnel had grazed her after Gadwell's console overloaded. But she was in command and knew the protocol. She knew her training, her years at the academy -
_________________!!_______,,..____________
"A combat school? These humans have a combat school? It's no wonder the other conscript races the Gol sent to scout their domain hadn't returned." Gri'sha was intrigued.
"We should report back and share these interpretations with the Gol...." But even as consensus was reached for this as the safest decision, Gri'sha felt that the grey matter was firing synapses less frequently and saw with its eyeless head that seargent at arms Connelly's grey matter was about to expire wholly.
"Well... we've always been a sucker for a good read." Gri'sha knew the risks and the punishments the Gol dolled out on their conscripts, especially the Dril.
"They always knew we were more intelligent than them, that's why ours is the harshest punishment."
Ignoring their own consensus, Gri'sha pushed slightly with two tendrils to read the next instance.
______________________________________
Her years at the academy had taught her everything she needed to know, logs could not be captured, and the ship must be scuttled.
"Ramming speed." Prepare engines for overload." Grim determination in her voice and on her face.
"Were scuttling the ship,but we'll take them out with the EMP and leave them for the fifth."
and Jill whispered, her hand on navigator pressley's shoulder, "death before dishonor, hoo rah."
The dead here could buy information for the living, and information sent such a long distance takes its time. The crew knew the risks when they signed up, when they chose a military life, a life of confli-
___________!!!__!___¿¿~%%¿¿__,,.._______
"Signed up?!" Gri'sha was reeling at the thought. "Chose?!" "Insanity!" The Dril, and every other race aside from the Gol in the Gol'an empire, we're forced into combat by the diminutive weapon makers. Who's threats to use planet destroying weapons, kept the others in line. To choose this life voluntarily seemed in direct opposition to what consensus called "self preservation."
It was, of course, too late for the Dril on that account, their home destroyed in a fit of rage by a Gol primarch after a Dril drone read too intently on a living Gol subject, instance interpretation telling **all Dril at once** how few of these weapons actually existed. Not enough for nearly half of the Gol's slave races.
Gri'sha, imagining that they could smile, as Connelly had, with indignation, kept reading, but more intently. Something happened that hasn't happened since the planet was cleansed...
Consensus had changed; **all dril at once were in agreement.**
"Wait on the ship, Contact the humans. They will bring down the Gol... death before dishonor? At the very least, these two terrifying races could devour each other."
______________________________________
Gri'sha watched as a beam from deep space shot quickly and soundlessly through the Aklas like it wasn't even there. Watched as the ship that had served as their home these long instances, since the cleansing, in fact, simply... disappeared in the center and began to drift in the direction the beam had been going and where it came from, simultaneously.
Gri'sha watched. Gri'sha smiled. And Gri'sha waited; to answer the hale from Harper's fifth fleet.
|
None
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C134Arsonist
|
2023-01-31 04:49:08
|
2023-01-31 04:20:57
| 25 | 15 |
j6lml7j
|
j6ljhjc
|
10orcex
|
10orcex
|
[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?"
|
The door slams, echoing in the bar.
I look up from my booze and grin. This guy. Black and Green suit with a huge D on it. Big complicated visor style mask that doesn't hide brown skin or that messy shock of black hair. Opposite sides of the law, but I love this kid. "Holy shit! Dusk! How are yo-"
"Who did it?" The voice is low. Calm. Razor wire and Scorpion venom. I've never seen the Bio-Grid Guardian this calm.
Dusk is....well, after the Hyperstorm, he appeared. The first Hyper. Tapped into the intricate web of life he calls the Bio-Grid. Him and his....oh shit.
"Dusk" I hold up my hands. "Where's Raptor?"
He glares at me, and I see the green energy in his eyes burn like a star. "That's what I'm here for, Talon. So which one of you húndàn fucks did it? WHICH ONE OF YOU NEARLY KILLED MY BABY BROTHER."
He's swearing. In Mandarin. Shit. Barely keeping his secret identity.
"Dusk, Theo." I take a few steps forward. "Look. We all know the rules. We fight, we scrap but we got rules so this don't happen
I reach out to touch his shoulder. That's a mistake. The roiling energy coming off him scalds my hand. Shit.
Other rogues start standing up. Frostbite speaks first "Listen, Big D. None of us would do that. We like the kid."
Murmers of agreement. Then in the back, Nocturne speaks
"What about that new guy? What was his name? Golgotha?"
There's a blur of movement, a scream of wind and Dusk is just....there in front of Nocturne before I can react, and I moe at the speed of lightning. He lifts the scrawny mutate with one hand, owl feathers floating down like rain.
"Explain." The voice is teetering the edge, and I yank Dusk...Theo off the poor bastard. , My flesh burns, but I don't want any blood in my bar.
"Nocturne, you gotta talk quick-like."
"Said he wanted to earn his name! Take skulls. I tried to warn him off, man!" Nocturne speaks fast, blinking his eyes out of sequence. He's freaked.
"Where is he?" A knife of a voice. Where's the goofy grin? Where's the "I'm Dusk, and evil's day is done?" This is not my archfoe.
"Wade Park. The abandoned part of the Yellows projects!"
And with that, something snaps. Dusk shrugs me off, like I was never there.
"If Curt dies...." he mutters then gives us all a once over. He doesn't finish. He just begins to hover, turns his body in midair....and is gone.
That...wasn't Dusk angry. That was Theodore Lyffe afraid for his brother's life. And that is so much worse
|
The attack on the Dome Galla was the biggest news going around town. Everyone heard of what happened. The annual Dome Galla event hosted by Dome Industries was bombed, and attacked by what looked like mercs. Everyone was talking about it at the Cell, but no one had any idea who it was that orchestrated it. I was just your average mugger off the streets hiding out with some of the worst this city has to offer when that day came, when he showed up.
The Crusader, the newest blood of heroism with the power to control fire and turn it into any kind of plant he wanted. He also had force powers like a jedi, but was only ever seen using it to stop debris or enhancing his own strength. He showed up, and there was a tension in the room immediately.
"Who did it?" That was all he said before some random villain stood up, "Hey! What makes you think you could jus- AAAAAHHHH!!" Everyone flinched and got their guard up when it happened. All he did was flex his arm a bit and the guy's knee was bending sideways. "I. Said. Who. Did. It?" Everyone was quiet. This guy was always the wannabe Superman, to see him like this was out of nowhere, and kinda scary.
He looked at the guy with the broken knee and lifted his fist. The villain, Binder, suddenly started choking, like he was being strangled. He was grasping at his throat, and started floating in the air. I called him a jedi earlier, but he isn't one right now. One of the veteran villains, Canon, approached, slowly with his hands up. "Is this about the Galla?" Crusader looked at him, and dropped Binder. He crawled away as he gasped for air, but the tension didn't leave. He asked again, "who did it?"
Canon slowly relaxed, "Whoever it was, they're probably not even here. You know how we like to take credit for our work. We're just as clueless as you." Crusader looked down, but I saw his fists still shaking, looking like he'll explode at any second, then the second came.
Some guy in the back, Greed, was the villain with a background in accounting. If a villain needed money moved unnoticed he was the guy. He got up, probably hoping his information could spare everyone in the room, "Hang on! I think I might kno-" Mid sentence and he was flying across the room, right in front of the hero, his fist in the air again. "WHAT DO YOU KNOW?"
Greed was floating like he was being stretched in two directions, his arms outstretched and still stretching by the second. He barely let ou his voice, "The attack. Someone attacked the mercs. Most are in the hospital-" Crusader interrupted, "I KNOW, I WAS THERE. THAT WAS ME. NOW ANSWER. WHO DID IT!!?" We were all surprised. If he was there, then this was about someone he cared about. They must have been in the galla too. Greed struggled, but kept talking, "Oh. Didnt.....know.....that. But...one merc....still......conscious." Crusader dropped him and he fell flat on his back. Before he had a chance to recover he stomped his foot on his chest, "Where?!" Greed, barely letting anything out, "Gaia...PD."
Crusader got off of him, turned around to leave. But Canon put his hand on his shoulder and went ahead and tried the whole "you're not just getting away" shtick. Without blinking, Crusader stopped him Mid sentence, drove his hand into his mouth, and fire blasted him. Canon is strong and the most durable of all the other villains, and he was left struggling and crying on the floor all the same. Crusader left, and everyone else was too tense to finish their drinks.
I don't go to the Cell these days anymore, decided to straighten myself up. Or at least to the best I can. Something stuck with me that day. All these heroes going around saving people for whatever reason may seem cliché and childish, but that seemed like the better choice. The second anyone hurts those they care about, the kid gloves are off, and it was clear that Crusader holds back. A lot. And I'll be damned before I make a terrifying mistake like that.
|
TerrWolf
|
DeckerDelgado94
|
2024-10-18 03:11:53
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2024-10-18 01:52:55
| 22 | 15 |
lsgzv8e
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lsgnzxt
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1g5kua3
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1g5kua3
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[WP] Today was a shit day. Everyone telling you what to do. You were so angry, you didn't notice the car. - You wake up, the pit to hell on your left, gates to heaven right. Death stands before you, pointing to a chair. "Sit, we will decide your fate." That's it, the final straw. "No."
|
"Yes. It is inevitable". Death was as I had always imagined it - a skinny, no, skeletal, hooded figure, with a scythe, its indistinct dark clothing swaying in a breeze I couldn't feel. And it spoke in a completely atonal, emotionless whisper.
"My manifestation is a product of your mind - as it was for those who came before you and those who will come after you. And your fate will be decided by the council, as it was for those who came be-"
"Yeah, yeah, cut to the chase. I'm done. Everyone made all my decisions in life for me, might as well wait and see how this one turns out - I'm already dead, how mich worse can it get, huh? No, boss, death or whatever the hell - pun intended - you're called. This is my death, this is MY call."
Death stood, looming. And I couldn't help but feel like it was *evaluating* me. Judging would be the wrong word. Judgement means innocence, or guilt in some form or another.
"You seem to be of sound mind and perception, human. Indeed, the beliefs prevalent on earth which prophecy binary judgement are false."
"But they seem to *lack* humility." A new voice, coming from the nothingness around us, a nothingness whose oppressive vastness and presence I only appreciated now that it, or something in it, had made itself known.
"Most of them do" - another, this one pulsing from the ground I felt I stood on, but couldn't see. It looked like the rest of the nether around death and me, but I sensed some kind of support, some kind of brace beneath my feet, now that it had spoken.
"I want my life back", I said defiantly. I wasn't about to become some deities' club's latest toy without any resistance.
"You cannot. Your choices are plentiful, but that is not one of them", death explained.
"Then I want a new life. One where I'm not pushed around by everybody all the time."
"So be it. We shall see if you make the same choice next time, young one." The voice from the nothingness seemed content, while I sensed sadness below.
"Choose carefully, young one", the voice from below cautioned. It felt like a concerned parent was trying to lovingly guide me towards a choice they thought was better.
I'd had a terrible relationship with my parents.
"Nope, I made my choice, please just let me have it."
Silence. For just a moment. I felt the three entities communicating.
"Come", whispered death. It started walking. I followed. At least I had chosen where it would lead me - even if I didn't know exactly where or what I had chosen.
|
The chair was a small wooden affair, akin to the ones I remember from school, and with the looming height of the reaper I felt like a child again. The ‘no’ I had shouted still rang in my ears and death was as still as … well as the grave.
My mind raced, I hadn’t thought ahead, I had just snapped and shouted my objection. How would I argue my way out of being dead.
“Whose heaven is that?” I asked to try and stall.
The reaper creaked as it turned its hooded head to the gates. They were like the shells of some creature, pearlescent, but the shapes were unnatural. Geometry not of this world seemed to pull at the threads of sanity if you followed any one portion of it too closely, taken as a whole it seemed to writhe.
“That is yours, you are of humanity yes?” The reaper asked in a voice as dry as a crypt.
“I don’t know to be honest, I’ve always kept myself to myself, I’ve certainly never been one of the crowd,” I avoided the question.
The reaper stood still waiting.
“And that I assume is hell? What kind of hell is that?” I challenged again.
The reaper turned his head the other way towards the pit. It seemed impossibly far away and as the landscape curved away into the pit it started to look fleshy.
“These are the options I have for human’s the pit or the gates,” the reaper said simply with a shrug.
“And why do you get to decide my fate?” I complained.
The reaper shook its head, a slow movement that rattled whatever was inside its hood.
“No, I said ‘we will decide your fate’, human’s are all the same, you assume so much of fate and put so little importance in your own actions, your life is always someone else’s fault, well here is a fulcrum, you cannot proceed without applying some leverage, taking some responsibility for where you go,” Death spoke the words in its dry voice but it was unmistakably an admonishment.
I sat on the chair, feeling more like a child at school. I thought back on the day, had I really been told what to do or had I coasted through the day and my life letting the world tell me what to do. The anger seeped away and was replaced with disappointment with myself.
“I am here to facilitate, help you make this decision but you must chose,” the reaper explained.
“Why would anyone chose the pit? That is hell right?” I asked.
The reaper tipped whatever it had for a head inside its hood as if considering the question. “Some would call it hell, it is nothing more than reincarnation, the opportunity for many to relive their mistakes over and over, you will not remember what came before.”
“So It’s death then as I’m dead now and don’t recall past lives?” I asked looking at the now hungry looking pit.
“This is the first time you’ve stood before me,” the reaper answered simply.
“So the gates then, what is option number two if it’s not reincarnation,” I asked looking at the maddening shapes from the corner of my eye.
“The universe wastes nothing, you can either be reused or go through the gates to be… repurposed by the ancient ones,” the reaper said.
Repurposed felt like a code for consumption by a hungry god, but still I couldn’t decide, did I really want to go back round the loop again to wind up ultimately at the same decision.
“Will it hurt?” I asked, not indicating which decision I was leaning towards.
“I’ve heard human’s say life is pain, it is unlikely reincarnation will come without some degree of it, behind the other door, I have no answers for you,” the reaper said, matter of factly.
I could feel the pit calling to me, it was the comfortable choice, however I turned towards the gates, shutting my eyes against the madness, I stumbled forwards arms reaching out for what came next.
Behind me I heard the rattling voice of the reaper and a human voice cry out “No!”
I tried to turn back to see the person that had followed me but I was already lost in the mad geometry of the pearly gates, they surrounded me and I felt myself tugged in every direction, dispersing, whatever came next was now inevitable, I smiled inwardly, comforted that the decision was behind me.
|
1Mandolo1
|
ExhibitionistBrit
|
2023-01-09 20:18:51
|
2023-01-09 17:14:56
| 226 | 75 |
j3njmfe
|
j3mpar2
|
107g6b1
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107g6b1
|
[WP] you got a magic rock as a kid that was meant to teach you the "magic words" of please and thank you by reminding you whenever it's appropriate. Now though it's begun to recommend whole paragraphs whenever you're in a sticky situation. The best part is following it's advice always works out best
|
*Go fuck yourself sir.*
Those were the first magic words I was given that weren't the usual *please* or *thank you*. I was thirteen years old and boiling over with rage at my English teacher for giving me a detention for something I hadn't even done. He was always a prick and everyone knew it. I habitually reached into my pocket to check my stone as I tried to hold my temper, expecting confirmation that a well timed "please" or "sorry" could help resolve the situation. Instead, the subtle braille script read "*Go fuck yourself sir.*" I laughed. I couldn't help it. Mr O'Connor only grew redder, the vein on his forehead sticking out further than I'd ever seen before, but his spell on me was broken and I laughed again.
"What's so funny?!" The vein looked like it might burst as he leaned over me.
"Go fuck yourself sir."
I said it without even thinking, and it felt **_good_**. All the rage flowed out of my body and was replaced with what I can only describe as blissful freedom, as I turned and walked out of the classroom.
Of course, I received a month's detention and was lucky not to be suspended. The only reason they were lenient with me was that I had "always been such a polite lad", and, in the words of our headmistress, "Mr O'Connor has a way of... bringing out the worst in people."
She actually took a liking to me after that. In fact, everyone did. Even Mr O'Connor left me alone. Two days after I spoke the magic words, I asked Sally out and she said yes. *Hey Sally, want to go out sometime?* I'd had a crush on her for months, but never had the courage. We've been together eleven years now and going strong.
My stone has continued to help me through the years, always ready with a wise word or two. One time I somehow prompted a psychological breakthrough just by repeating "It's not your fault." Sometimes it gives me a whole paragraph to recite. But I think that first "go fuck yourself" was the one that really changed my life...
|
... I remember when this stone just radiated in my pocket, when I forgot to be thankful for the blessings I've received, all the way through my childhood.
Now I can't remember the last time I've had a conversation at a bar, without the suspecious feeling that every word I utter, is not my own.
I might be paranoid, but this stone is my drug of choice, if I leave it at home, I long for it, it never leaves my mind.
The heat it gives off is intoxicating, like a person giving you the most warm, affectionate hug.
Last night, I almost got in a fight, because I was trying to comfort an old man, who had trouble refusing the bottles that me and my friends bought for everyone at the bar, we were being inconsiderate..
-We just went out to have a night of fun in the capital city, although on a weekday..
Everyone at the bar was tired after long days at work, slaving away to make ends meet. And then we came in, happy as always. We started by having a beer, cheered and then scattered to strike up conversations with strangers, they all became lively after half an hour. My friends possess this skill naturally, compassion..
Without my stone, I am nothing..
After many hours of laughing and drinking with the locals, sharing music on the jukebox, reminiscing our past jiys, the bartender shouted: "Last call, guys!".
We bought one for round for everyone, and that was the drop that made the cup flow over, for that poor old man.
He started crying, "I miss my youth, Im just old and useless. I can't even take care of my family. I simply don't have the energy anymore."
My stone reacted instantly. I felt the rush, the rush of knowing I was about to get my fix. My stoe would do all the work of helping that old man let out his innermost, I just had to retrieve back into my mind and let it happen.
As I felt my own concience fall deep into the void of my mind, I accepted that I'm addicted to hiding away from reality, while the stones personality takes control of my body, uses me to comfort the sad souls I pass on my journey that is life.
While I'm here, everything is crystal clear, my sometimes cloudy mind becomes clear as the starry night sky. All the dots connect in an instant, that is the most precious feeling I've ever experienced.
The stone is not good at moving my body, yet. I think it's learning. Learning to be more independent, of me, I feel it wants to take control of my body completely, leaving me in this void of pleasure, which is the feeling of a mind unleaahed, pure pleasure.
I feel the stone pulling me out of the void, communicating that it need me alert. I accept that there's probably gonna be an altercation. The stone is too slow in my body to fend for itself.
I don't know how long I was in that void, time feels non-linear. Suddenly I wake, in control of my body again, seeing a closed fist approaching my face, time feels slow now that I just came back from the darkness.. It's like I have superpowers for the first hour after returning.
I move out the way like I'm fucking Spider-Man or some other hero from my childhood comics. I gently shove the guy away to create some distance, to try and talk him out of assaulting me further.
It worked, and the bodyguard at the door was apparently aware of what was happening, he had watched the whole seance between the stone and the old man I suspect.
He grabbed the angry drunk and threw him out the door.
-I got my fix, it was a good night.
|
Constant_Living_8625
|
fullsteam92
|
2023-02-17 10:48:18
|
2023-02-17 09:42:46
| 216 | 100 |
j8w2xg4
|
j8vy61n
|
114diei
|
114diei
|
[WP] As a young witch, you have recently made a deal with a devil. In return for power, you must become his servant, the concept of which greatly excites you. At the end of your 5 years, you find that by “servant”, he didn’t mean an agent of justice who torments sinners, he simply needed a maid.
|
"So I don't have to kill anyone?"
"No, you don't."
"What about chaining up the sinner? It needs two people to do that."
"I can chain them up myself. I've done it before."
"What about cutting their tongues? I can help you pick the tools."
"I can summon them."
"What about–"
"For Satan's sake, Janet! I don't need you to punish or help me punish the sinners!" The Devil yelled in frustration, "That is *my* job. All you have to do is clean up the torture room after each session!"
Janet pouted, "Then can I at least watch you punish them? I'll have to enter the room when you're done anyway."
The Devil opened his mouth intending to protest, but no word came out. Who is he kidding, he can't argue back at her. Defeated by the young witch's stubbornness, he finally sighed, "Fine! You can stand in the corner and watch. Just don't meddle with my work."
The beaming grin on Janet's face couldn't be any brighter, "Yes, sir!"
|
“Your time has come. Your purpose shall be fulfilled in serving me.”
The devil cackles from his sprawling throne of bleeding gold. Beside him a little maid outfit, in its stereotypical black and white sprung out of nothingness.
“This should fit you perfectly.”
Despite her many efforts she found herself at a crossroads, as the deep abyss of blackness stared back at her, the devils eyes enveloping her very soul, she remained stoic and unrelenting in her quest for power. She began muttering under her breath, the incantation spewing at the edge of her lips faster than even she could comprehend. The devil etched towards her from his throne, towering hundreds of feet above as his over-crusted skin chipped and crushed the ground around her with his every movement. The fires surrounding the rock they stood on began to soar into the sky and swirling in unison. The witch closed her eyes and continued, swishing her fingers by her side, the devil’s laugh echoing through the endless void of hell.
The grumble of his voice vibrating through the floor before he’d even begun to speak, “You dare defy me,” reaching his arm out to smite her like a bug.
Unbeknownst to him, there was one final trick up her sleeve. One she had never expected to have to use. As the fires stood to a halt before jolting towards her a mile a minute, she began to rise into the air. When the fires reached her it was clear there was no other choice. She had given the last five years to the devil in hopes to serve alongside him in taking over the very world that had once forsaken her, humbling herself to his every whim and request. So she had to use everything she had learnt to continue her mission, now not to serve, but to reign.
“Limbo,” she whispered. Her body that lay in a deep slumber on earth began to run cold as her soul split from it and whisked through the layers of hell into the one place she knew she could not be found. When she opened her eyes, the mist clouded her vision but the voices began to surround her, begging for forgiveness and release from this world. She had escaped him, he could not reach the purgatory she found herself in but his voice continued to rattle in her head, cackling at her defiance.
“I will find you, witch.”
She walked on through the mist, whispering incantations as the mist parted before her, “Not if I find you first.”
-
Not sure where I was going with this but maybe a fanatical opening to a story of a battle between this witch and the devil, hope it worked.
|
Penna_23
|
silvacorner
|
2023-10-29 03:44:04
|
2023-10-28 23:18:13
| 43 | 14 |
k6wtdls
|
k6vwlal
|
17ifinb
|
17ifinb
|
[WP] Instead of becoming an Adventurer like your peers, you decided to become an Author And Publish a Mystery novel series. However, you gain the attention of the demon queen. She doesn't want to kill you, Instead, she's upset you left the last book on a cliffhanger.
|
The ink was barely dry when she came.
I was supposed to be an adventurer. That's what they said. Be like your father, your brother, your grandfather, like every man since time stretched and split into days. So when they left on their quests, swords glinting and egos flashing, I stayed home, hunched over parchment, feeling the dust settle over me, not adventure.
It was on a Tuesday—quiet, gray, a nothing day—that I heard the knock. I thought it was a bird at first, then maybe wind. But wind doesn’t knock. It howls and rattles and slides under the door like it owns the place. This was deliberate. Sharp. Insistent.
I opened the door. There she was.
You hear stories about the demon queen. Always in half-whispers, like the truth of her can only be handled in pieces. But she looked exactly how I'd imagined: regal, eyes dark as midnight pools, draped in red that didn't so much flow as cling to her like it was afraid to let go.
And there I was, barefoot in my study, ink stains smudged across my cheek, hair like I'd lost a fight with the wind and lost badly. She didn’t look like she belonged in this room. She didn’t even look like she belonged in this world.
"You," she said, voice low, dangerous, "owe me an ending."
I blinked, because it was either that or laugh, and laughing in the face of the demon queen seemed unwise.
"An... ending?"
She stepped inside like she'd been invited. The way someone with that much power moves—it doesn't ask. It just is. "Your book," she said, eyes narrowing. "You left it on a cliffhanger. I do not like cliffhangers."
"Oh." A pause. I wasn’t sure what was worse: that she’d come, or that she knew about *that* cliffhanger. It was a good one, though. One of my best.
“I’m still writing it,” I said, feeling defensive.
Her eyes flared, a red flash behind the black. “Your hero was bleeding on the floor. Bleeding. And you just left him there, on that page, bleeding into nothing. Do you know how infuriating that is?"
I could feel my face heating up, though whether from embarrassment or the unholy heat rolling off her, I couldn't say. “It’s supposed to make you want the next one.”
“I *want* it now.”
Of course she did. The demon queen didn’t wait for anything.
My hands twitched, fingers itching for a pen. “It’s not ready.” I swallowed the words I really wanted to say: *Neither am I.*
She looked at me, really looked at me then, her gaze softening just enough to make me uncomfortable. I expected fire, fury, maybe some dark magic. What I didn’t expect was the sigh. Heavy. Ancient. Tired, even.
"Do you think you're the only one who can’t finish something?" she asked, voice softer than I'd imagined it could be. "I’ve ruled for eons, and it’s all… half-baked plans, half-done wars, things left undone.” Her gaze drifted over the cluttered room, the piles of pages, half-written thoughts. "I’m not mad because I don’t know what happens next. I’m mad because you *stopped.*"
The truth hit me like a cold slap. She wasn’t talking about the book. Not really.
"I didn’t stop," I said, though even I didn’t believe it. “I just—”
She raised an eyebrow, and that was enough.
I stopped.
Stopped writing, stopped adventuring, stopped everything. The ink dried on half-finished sentences, the quill heavier with every word, the weight of an ending I couldn’t quite see pressing on my chest.
The demon queen shifted, her presence less threatening, more human somehow, and sat down in the only chair that wasn’t covered in parchment. It looked strange, seeing her there, regal and tired, waiting for something I wasn’t sure I could give.
"Finish it," she said, quietly.
I stared at the blank page in front of me, the story I hadn’t touched in weeks. The hero bleeding out, waiting for me to save him or let him die.
The thing about adventures no one tells you: it’s not the monsters or the danger that gets you. It’s the *not knowing*. The days when everything is quiet, and you’re left with yourself and all the things you were supposed to be. The cliffs are always higher than you think. The pages stretch longer than you imagined.
I picked up the pen.
It was always easier to leave things unfinished. But maybe—just maybe—she was right.
The demon queen waited, silent, while I wrote.
|
> Catalyst... yes, yes that was what Ophelia was. Her death was what brought Aaron here in the first place, wasn't it? His trauma had driven his guilt, driven him to kill his parents, put him in jail, forced him to live as though nothing mattered anymore. Yet here she was, alive and well before the both of them, who watched it happen, all those years ago. Cameron didn't even bat an eye. She already knew. His final riddle. She'd figured it out.
> "Is that all you have to say for yourself?" Cameron screamed, her blade at Aaron's throat, "After all these years, is that it?"
> Aaron gulped, "Kill me. I deserve it. After everything I've done."
> "I want to. I really do. But I don't have the strength to make the choice."
> "You were always going to get here. So choose now. Kill me, or never find out what happened to Garthin."
> Cameron pulled back the blade, and
The next page continues.
> **Epilogue**
> The blue sky begins to dim on the lush green fields of Nevoral. A familiar tune dances through the evening air, and all is well. At last, all is well. Cameron sits on the grass by Lorn, who is playing his lute.
> "You know," He says, "All this time, I would have thought we'd learn our lesson."
> Cameron laughs.
> "You ridiculous bard, you."
> Lorn sighs, "I'm not the ridiculous one here. You're the one who said you knew everything, right from the start."
> Cameron shakes her head, "That's not what I said. All I said was-"
> Lorn plays a gentle strum on his lute and sits back, silencing her.
> "It doesn't matter what you said."
> Cameron nods, "In the end, the melody is what matters."
The next page continues.
> Thank you so much for sticking through this series for me! Nineteen books! Holy blankets! I can't believe it, what a journey this has been, when I was first-
The next page is blank.
The next page is blank.
The next page is a list of the books in the series.
The next page is-
> "A thrilling conclusion to a beloved series! Guris' expertise leads to a most satisfying conclusion." - Goblin Times
LIES
> "9/10. Loved every inch and thread." - Justin Thornburrow
IRRELEVANT
> "Had me racking my brain, and ties everything up in a nice bow." - Colin Bean
OH COME ON!
---
"It's bloody *exhausting* travelling around the lands of Mainford, Kevin." Lashly Guris said, sitting at a table in Yarn And Tail, a bookshop run by a dragonkind in Kormin. The portraits of her face were still weirding her out, both a good deal close to her likeness and just slightly uncanny.
Kevin nodded, "I understand that, Miss Guris, it's just a few more stops on the tour."
"My hand is getting sore, Kevin."
"I'm aware. You told me at the last three places."
"We're making a good deal of money, don't get me wrong, but... I thought this was meant to be a *meet* and *greet*, not a *greet* and *go away*."
Kevin rolled his eyes, "The talent always goes after the manager for managing, what else is new."
"I'm *sorry*, I just wanna actually get to chat with the fans, Kev!"
The air grew cold. The lanterns dimmed, and a silhouette entered the building, sliding along the floor with inhuman grace. Fog rolled in, and she strolled up to the back of the line. A few moments passed, and the person standing in front of her, who had previously been frozen in fear, finally stepped aside and offered her to go ahead.
"Oh, thank you," The Demon Queen said. The rest of the line very quickly did the same, and the tall lady in black strolled up to Lashly's table, a book in hand.
"Lashly Guris." She said, her voice deep, and somewhat ringing with irritation.
Lashly nodded, "Uh-y-yes, Asteria, Queen of Demons?"
"Hi, it's so nice to meet you! Could you um, sign my book? I'm a big fan of the series."
Lashly paused, and laughed, breathing a sigh of relief as she took the book in hand.
"Absolutely. I take it you enjoyed the series?"
"I was so angry when you ended it the way you did."
The room had not recovered from her entrance, and everyone froze up again in panic.
"But like," The Demon Queen continued, "I just think I didn't really, like, *get* it. Like, is Aaron dead or alive?"
Lashly laughed, "Well, yes, that is the final mystery, isn't it?"
"Yes..?"
Lashly nodded, "Yes. Sorry, is it, I was warned, Kevin even, say hi Kevin-"
The gnome, frightened out of his skin, waved shyly.
"Kevin told me you know, you gotta wrap it up, it can't just end like that. But like, you read *Catalyst*, correct?"
The Demon Queen nodded, "I brought my copy."
She held up a thoroughly worn-out book filled with colourful sticky notes.
"There's so much in this." The Demon Queen said.
"Yeah, so it's all about like, Aaron's backstory, but the mystery is more woven in-"
"No, no, I did, I mean, I got all of that, it's just..."
"The leaving his death a mystery part?"
The Demon Queen quickly nodded, "Yes. Exactly. Sorry to be hung up on it."
"No, no, it's quite alright. Well, I guess I kind of left that vague intentionally. If he survives, you know, you could imagine maybe he gets imprisoned, maybe talks to Ophelia some more, or maybe he wants to and she doesn't, who knows, you know?"
"But then what happens to the-"
"The Yolgrins? Good question."
"But, no, but, it's meant to-"
"It ends exactly how I want it to. It's a mystery, not an answer novel. I want to leave everything about *that* up in the air. There's no real conclusion to the series because that mystery is so big it is intentionally left hanging."
The Demon Queen sighed, then nodded.
"I respect that... I just... related in a large way to Aaron and wanted to know where his trauma led him."
"Dark places." The author said, passing the book back, "But thanks for reading! Keep an eye out for whatever I do next, please!"
The Demon Queen blushed and nodded, running out the door.
"Will do!"
|
StoneBurner143
|
Gate4043
|
2024-10-20 20:17:23
|
2024-10-20 19:41:41
| 25 | 12 |
lswbb40
|
lsw45ey
|
1g7u5hf
| null |
[WP] "Good wish, you still have three wishes." A lightbulb goes off in my head. "So, you're saying if I make a selfless wish like that one, it doesn't count?" The genie visibly relaxes, as if I was the first person to connect the dots. "Yes, exactly."
|
"You have three wishes."
Toby was taken aback. He turned watching as the little boy on the gurney hugged his parents and then to the other victims that had been covered in burns and bruises and cuts recovering.
The hospital staff running wild. It was as if magic, a fantasy, a miracle. All the car crush victims were alive. Their wounds gone.
The man whom had sat next to Toby on the bus had regrown his severed leg. Another, a woman, sat up her face still covered in blood but when she removed the patch that covered her removed eye, it was there.
He looked at the happy faces all around then turned to walk towards the exit.
"Wait, sir!" A nurse yelled behind him. She stood up from behind the desk. "You still have to get examined."
Toby picked up his pace, keeping his head down and was already at the door.
"Sir!"
He walked out the hospital. It would be odd to be seen talking to thin air inside the hospital. Toby did not want to have his brain examined for having "psychological problems".
A news van swooshed past him. And then another. He turned to look back at the towering hospital edifice behind him. He could still hear the commotion.
When he got to a less crowded street, he turned to the genie who had been trailing behind him.
"What do you mean I have three wishes?" He asked, wondering if simple subtractional math was not a part of the genie's thought process.
"As by contract, a wish granted, selfless in nature and intention to the benefit another is not tallied and therefore," he repeated his earlier words. "You have three wishes."
Toby thought it through as he walked. The university expedition to Egypt this time had wrecked his finances. Riches were the first thing on his mind. Any rational being living a civilized society or even in a land far from civilization, would dream of wealth in whatever form it manifested itself.
He'd waited till he was back home to make his wishes and his patience paid off.
What if he wished the rest of his and his fellow peer's entire pursuit of knowledge was free?
"Then you would be down to two wishes." The genie spoke.
"What in-?"
"Yes I can." The genie interrupted.
Toby panicked. He felt very uncomfortable, as if he was walking naked in front of the genie.
"It is one of the many gifts I have been granted in order to fulfill my duty."
So it was impossible? Toby thought about it. He wasn't selfless. Being a hero of mankind or whatever was the last thing on his mind. He knew what it felt to lose someone you love, to be alone, to feel empty so he wished for it. Losing one wish didn't mean Jack to him, he'd still have two more. Having these wishes didn't really mean anything to him in the first. He'd just wanted to have fun one last time.
"Life is a waste," he turned to the genie. "What would happen if I honestly wished for everything and everyone to disappear to help everyone, escape?"
The genie fell silent. Sincerity radiated from the boy's eyes that had a lot more dark in them than he'd first observed.
Noting the genie's silence, Toby turned to look at the city skyline and blue summer sky above. He spoke.
|
"Good wish, you still have three wishes," said the Djinn. It had granted the previous wish made: for ice cream to be free for everyone. And it hadn't counted it among Rodrigo's three wishes originally offered.
Rodrigo said, "So, you're saying if I make a selfless wish like that one, it doesn't count?"
The Djinn visibly relaxed, as if Rodrigo was the first person to connect the dots. "Yes, exactly. The free ice cream for everyone except you does not count as a wish among your proffered three."
Rodrigo scratched a scab as he thought of his next wish. This scab itched. It was a reminder of the bike messenger who clipped him last week as he walked along the sidewalk. That cyclist had ruined his day as he was off to get his favourite food, which was ice cream. He hadn't even gone to get his dessert after being hurt. He just wasn't in the mood. The city was notorious for cyclists who hurt pedestrians. Did they not realize that they were in a vehicle that was meant to be on the road? How would he ever get back at all the cyclists who had cussed him out? Or hit him with their bikes?
He said, "Alright, I'd like to make my next wish a little retroactive." He grinned, "I want only free ice cream for *cyclists,* not everyone."
Whenever Rodrigo rode a bike, it was on the road, as he was a considerate person.
The Djinn cocked an eyebrow that was invisible to the human sight. It spoke from the aether as was the only method of communication when dealing with the human world. It said, "Okay..."
"Now give *all cyclists* severe lactose intolerance."
"How is that selfless?"
Panic sweats hit Rodrigo in a strong wave. He stumbled over his words, "Cause, well, you know, that too much ice cream is bad for you."
Remaining silent as it could the Djinn wanted to hear this one play out.
Rodrigo said, "Ice cream in large quantities can make you fat or sick, so, that's why I want people to have bodies that warn them of this fact whenever they are eating said... free ice cream."
"Okay, but that has to count as a wish," the Djinn crossed its arms. "So does the wish for the free ice cream for all cyclists."
However, Rodrigo couldn't read the Djinn's reaction at all. He only heard its otherworldly voice as it spoke to him. To the common human eye, he was just talking to a lamp. He said to the lamp, "What? That's a selfless act? So was the other one."
"No, see you ride your bike occasionally, so that would mean you would be benefitting as you are indeed a cyclist." There was no bullshitting a Djinn, they weren't omnipresent but they did have cosmic feelings of how to spot a liar. "So, you've used your first two wishes. But I can always reverse it with your third one, if you want."
This was a life shattering moment for Rodrigo. He had planned out his wishes ever since he was a kid. When he'd played that game on the playground, '*If you had three wishes, what would they be?'.* It was a popular game as the movie of Aladinn had recently come out. And his answer was always the same: I want to be a billionaire, I want every ice cream shop to serve me for free, and I never want that ice cream to affect my body in a negative way.
He already had lactose intolerance. He didn't want to make it worse. But now he was down to one wish. This was a rather conflict-ridden choice for him to make. Be rich or go on eating ice cream as he normally did, in small quantities.
"Alright, fine," he said, "Go on, make me rich."
"You sure?" Asked the Djinn. "You wished for essentially violent lactose intolerance. Ice cream *will* make you ill. I feel like you probably like ice cream a whole lot. I mean, who doesn't?"
"Do it." Vengeance was a dish best served cold as Rodrigo had once heard. Except that would probably be the only cold dish he'd be able to eat for the rest of his life without having to curl himself around a toilet. He took solace in the fact that he had probably cured the world of reckless cyclists, as a person who had a vicious stomach-ache would have a tough time not walking their bike. And he knew if he had made the sidewalks a bit safer for pedestrians, it at least felt like a selfless act.
Epilogue: Rodrigo lived a long life of wealth, however, he never could stomach his favourite food. He regretted wasting his wishes on revenge. That cyclist who had hit him and caused him to get the scab, they just rode through the pain of eating free ice cream. But Rodrigo, the only time he could truly enjoy a creamy, cold, waffle cone with two scoops was on his death bed. However, the uncomfortable rumbling in his tummy was worth it as he was able to peacefully die with a medley of ice cream flavours on his tongue.
|
cubic_madness
|
joshackermann
|
2023-10-06 21:08:29
|
2023-10-06 19:00:56
| 44 | 16 |
k3rr60i
|
k3r6lw4
|
171bsrm
|
171bsrm
|
[WP] A ghost haunts the halls of an appartment complex deep in a populated city. All of the tenants know of the ghost. Infact the spirit is writen into the lease agreement. Describe an appartment showing for potential new tenants.
|
\[Discriminating. Ghost.\]
“I love it,” Miranda smiled at the realtor. She'd been advised not to seem too eager, but it was hard not to be. So far it was her dream apartment on the beach, with a view facing the ocean, and completely affordable. Arguably ‘too’ affordable, but she hadn't gathered all the facts yet.
“If you're that taken with it, you're only a couple of signatures from moving in,” Connie, the real estate agent said. “But, I should verify you've read the lease. You do know about Gary, right?”
Miranda was glad the subject came up. She'd been too unsure to bring it up herself. Gary the ghost had to be a joke, and Connie's mention seemed to be part of the set up. But, according to what she read, Gary was well-known in the building, and even relatively popular.
“He's real?” she asked. Connie nodded. “So, the hallways are really haunted?”
“No, I wouldn't call it a ‘haunting’,” Connie shook her head. “He keeps a pretty consistent schedule. Not that you have to avoid him, he’s a friendly ghost; but, if you want to it's as simple as waiting till after sunrise or sunset, those are the times he'll be in the hall.”
“Oh, okay,” Miranda nodded. It was feeling a bit too specific to be a joke anymore, but that only left her more unsure. Her parents always warned her about the ‘fantastic’ side of the world. “So he only haunts the halls at sunrise and sunset, that's workable,” she said.
“No…,” Connie shook her head, this time without the smile she’d come with as part of her job. “I need to make this clear. Gary is a welcome tenant and valued member of the community. No one's haunting anything,” she said.
“But, he's a ghost, right?” Miranda asked.
“Yes,” Connie agreed.
“And you said he keeps a schedule. Sunrise and sunset, he's wandering the halls, right?”
“Is Gary's presence going to be an issue for you? You seem quite determined to paint the situation in the worst possible terms.”
“Well what would you call it? He's a ghost!”
“ I think maybe this apartment isn't for you after all…, “ Connie said.
“No wait! It's perfect! I'm sorry! I just don't know how to act around those kinds of people,” she said. “Supernaturals I mean!” she was quick to realize how it sounded, but not quick enough to keep from saying it.
“Gary may be a ghost, but he's a great guy,” Connie said. “His payments are always on time.”
“I'll be happy to meet him!” Miranda volunteered. “I'll join him for his next haunting at sunset!” Connie sighed and shook her head.
“For goodness sake! The man is dead, he doesn't have a lot going on in his apartment,” she said.
“Sorry?” Miranda didn't know what to do with that information.
“He's not haunting anything!” she said. “Gary uses the hall like a normal person to go down to the beach at sunrise and he comes back up at sunset. He's just enjoying his retirement from life, why is that so difficult?”
\*\*\* Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is story #2443 in a row. (Story #269 in year seven). This story is part of an ongoing saga that takes place in my universe.
|
"Alright, annnnnd here we are. Apartment 13B. Just let me," the building manager rummaged in his pockets, he had a lot of pockets.
Marcy smiled to hide her annoyance but couldn't help herself, "You didn't think to find the key before our appointment?"
He either pretended not to hear her or was so invested in finding the keys he didn't hear her and responded with a small chuckle, almost under his breath.
Digging into the cargo pockets on the lower parts of his legs when he resumed his spiel, "I've got the keys here somewhere. The apartment has two bedrooms, one and a half bath, you got a," he found a ring of keys and began trying them in the door, "a big bay window, your living room is your dining room but the kitchen is real nice."
He worked through the keys, he was halfway through them before one sunk into the lock and he turned to his potential tenant with a smile, "You've got more than 700 square feet of living space."
He tried to turn the key, and it didn't turn. His smile became an apologetic grimace, and he returned to trying keys.
That was when Marcy felt the ball roll into her foot. Stooping down she picked up the little red ball and turned from the manager to look down the hallway.
There was nobody there. She went to give the ball a squeeze and there was nothing to squeeze.
Her hand was empty.
She heard a ball bouncing. A giggle.
"Is there a gas leak?" Marcy asked.
The lock clicked and the manager walked into the room, "Not in more than forty years," he said from the inside of the room.
She followed him, "Hey, uh..." she trailed off looking around the apartment. Whatever brain fart just happened, she was more than happy to let it go. $750 for this place... She would live with a gas leak and chop off her foot for good measure if she got to live here.
Beautiful herringbone hardwood floors, the huge bay window faced the mountains to the east, matching name brand stainless-steel appliances with that blue plastic still on them. The floors in the kitchen were hexagon tiles, some kind of rustic Hispanic looking designs with bright but muted colors. The backsplash over the slate gray solid surface countertops matched the floor. Farm style oversized sink. Open shelving on the top, a small pantry off to the left.
Marcy would chop off both feet to live here for $750 a month.
"From your jaw on the floor there I take it you like?" The manager asked.
That was when she noticed it. A small red ball on the top of the fridge.
"That red ball," Marcy pointed at it, "do you see it?"
"Oh yeah," the manager chuckled nervously, "it's uh, it's Henry's. He's uh. You'll see him around a bit."
"Well, I don't want him popping into my apartment whenever. How did he get in here? You could barely get in here."
Another nervous chuckle from the manager, "Well, once you've signed your contract, he won't be able to come into your apartment unless you want him to, he'll just be out in the hallways sometimes."
"Wha-" She started to ask when he cut her off.
"Did I tell you that you've got your own washer and dryer?"
"No. Oh my gosh." Marcy's excitement betrayed her.
Walking past her down the hallway he opened a door on the left.
Pointing as he spoke the manager said, "Down there is the master suite, beautiful classic double vanity, a soaking tub, the works. Right across from your laundry room here is the spare bedroom or office, whatever you want to do with it. And right here is your washer and dryer."
Stepping into the small laundry room she marveled at the set. Top of the line. Brand new. She opened the washer and looked in.
Down there in the bottom of the washer was a red ball.
"What the hell is with the red balls?" Marcy didn't know if she was angry or confused. She sounded both.
"The uh, the kid Henry, he's a, he is uh, he's a ghost." The nervous chuckle came before and after he spoke.
She felt something bump into her foot.
She did not look down.
"Oh. And you said if I sign the contract he can't come in?" Her smile was a surprise to the building manager, she hadn't smiled once since he'd met her.
"Oh, uh, yeah! Yeah. We had a priest in and tried some other stuff, we couldn't get him fully out of the building, you can still hear him in the halls and stuff but uh, but we had a witch, a few of them actually, a coven I think they said, they uh, they came in and did somethin'. Bound him by spells are somethin' and if you've signed the lease he can't come into your apartment." He did not chuckle this time, he was wringing his hands and speaking as if trying not to forget anything.
She felt something bump her foot harder.
She did not look down.
"Good enough for me, where's the contract?"
|
HSerrata
|
AnAuthor_Antonio
|
2024-09-25 23:19:11
|
2024-09-25 23:14:57
| 44 | 23 |
loxqhns
|
loxpskw
|
1fpf1f3
|
1fpf1f3
|
[WP] 5 years ago, you accidentally ran over a poor school student with your truck. You've carried the guilt all that time until one day, that very student knocks on your door, awoken from their coma. Rather than being angry, they thank you for inspiring their bestselling fantasy series
|
"AARRGGHH!!" i awoke with a scream, memories of last night flood through my mind. Of being cornered by Night Master, some new, upstart vigilante trying to make a name for himself. Of Night Master beating the crap out of me and not stopping, even when i'm curled up and not fighting back.
I try to sit up, but every part of my body aches and i lay back down.
I see a nurse peek in the room "Ah, you are awake then" and she leaves.
A few minutes later, Guardian, the leader of the Protectors, walks into the room and i freeze on the bed, feeling myself go pale. He sees my reaction and slows down, putting up his hands "Hey, its ok, its ok, relax, i'm not going to hurt you, Pooka"
"My name is Phouka" i say almost automatically. Guardian looks puzzled "Isn't that what i said?"
I shake my head "No, you called me Pooka, but my name is pronounced Púca".
He cocks his head a little "Wait, did you just...." i wave my hand "Sorry, force of habit, its fine"
He stands by my bed and i see now that he has a concerned look on his face "Pooka, i'm really sorry about what happened to you". I nod "You mean the part where Night Master kept punching and kicking me when i was already down on the ground and not resisting?"
Guardian winces "Yeah, that part....." i notice he's avoiding my eyes, looking away.
"So, i guess by now you figured out who i am and the cops are on their way?"
Guardian shakes his head "No, we didn't ID you, we haven't even seen your face, Pooka".
"Wait, how is that possible? There is no way you treated me *without* seeing my face"
Guardian pulls up a chair and sits down "The medical staff that helped you are sworn to secrecy, regarding *any* super they treat. Even among the Protectors, there are those who prefer to keep their identities secret. After they treated you, they put your mask back on." He puts his hand on mine "You did not deserve what happened to you, Pooka. You are a villain, but you are not *evil*"
(1/2)
|
"Do you remember his name?" The man in black asked, his hands drooped to his sides, stained in my blood.
It took a while to regain my breath, my hands trembling against wound. It was deep.
"Of course you wouldn't. He was just another pawn for you -"
"If I had to guess," I interrupted, steadying my voice. "Is this person you described jordan? The one who owns the marble mansion downtown?"
The man's brows raised.
"I keep a diary for these sort of things. I can double check if you allow me -"
"A diary?" His face visibly twisted in disgust. "Why? Is it so you feel better?"
I swallowed dryly, feeling the warm liquid now trickle down to my elbow. "If you want the money back then -"
"Money!?" He bellowed. "Give my dad back!"
I shrugged. "Hold on. You got this mixed up. I didn't kidnap -"
"You killed him. He was already going through enough, and yet..." An agonizing pause followed, interrupted by random sobs. My head grew dizzier with each second.
"You stealing his money was the last straw. It didn't matter, honestly. He had enough, but... no amount of money could fix his mental. The day he was robbed gave him the final push.
My eyes started to feel heavy. Though, an ever great weight pulled down in my chest.
"I'm sorry." I muttered. "I didn't want to kill him. I just wanted the money."
His teeth grit. He wouldn't forgive. Not now.
The man approached, preparing the final strike as I tried my best to crawl further back. Every minute movement ached the wound further.
"Please." I begged. "Don't kill me." I cried. My breath was as frantic as my heart beat.
In one last push, I shot up against the nausea with a groan.
I jolted out the bed, my hands reached out to grab the air instead.
The environment had changed, from the rain to an AC cold room.
"Wow. Hold on there."
I looked to my right to see someone else entirely.
"I was just peering into your memories for a bit."
"My memories?" I looked around the see the men and women who surrounded me. They seemed familiar.
Of course they would.
I looked back at the man beside. My jaw hung wide.
"The Hero's league?" I navigated my way backwards to my bed. "I see. He didn't kill me."
"He would've if it weren't for the last second change of mind. Consider yourself lucky as he murdered almost every other villain."
I tucked my knees against my chest. Letting out a sigh. I should have felt ecstatic to be alive, and yet...
"Are you gonna arrest me?"
"You sure seem eager." One of them remarked. "But no. We have a much more fitting punishment."
I gulped instinctively, quickly meeting his gaze with wide eyes.
"Relax. It's not death. We will be using you to catch the culprit instead." Another said.
"Yeah. You have a relation with him. Besides, that trickster powers of yours will be of good use. What do you say?"
"I mean. It's a punishment, so you don't really have a say." The original man commented, gaining glares from the rest. "What? It's true."
"I..." I cleared my throat. "I want to see him again as well. But I can't side with you."
"Why?"
I glanced at the man in the middle who asked. The leader of the league.
"You would not like a killer in your team would you?"
The door to the room creaked open as they watched me exit out. Quickly looking back at the me who was on the bed.
"Shit! It's an illusion."
"I'll lure him out, you guys can then fight him or whatever." The illusion spoke before descending unto a mist, leaving no trace.
|
Thanatofobia
|
Bob_is_a_banana
|
2025-01-11 19:16:06
|
2025-01-11 18:11:16
| 560 | 130 |
m6mcl4l
|
m6m01kh
|
qvym0o
|
1hz0cf3
|
[WP] 5 years ago, you accidentally ran over a poor school student with your truck. You've carried the guilt all that time until one day, that very student knocks on your door, awoken from their coma. Rather than being angry, they thank you for inspiring their bestselling fantasy series
|
"Impulse." a voice resonates. I open my eyes to a vast space of white purple and blue. Floating in front, a man dressed in a long gown iconic in silver, white, and purple.
"Vesper..." I breathe out. my heart beat quickens knowing the famous Hero. A Gnostic Entromach, able to craft mental realities, Ideation Extraction and Forging. None of my gnostic abilities can match. However knowing his power and being confined in his power are two separate things. The silent pause is stopped with a small smile from Vesper. *yeah he read that*
"So.... is Something I can do for you?" I wince realizing too late I broke the silence.
"You are in a medically coma...."
"I'd figured, after my run in with Machina?" Vesper nods,
"If breaking your skull, ribs, a legs, and hands and shooting you enough times to kill you 10 times over is considered a 'run in' then yes." Vesper waved his hand to bring a ground with a picnic table, and a pergola to focus. "Coffee, tea?"
"Water". Vesper waved it into being. "Perhaps my schemes this time was a little much." I admit. Vesper only chuckles as he take a sip of tea.
"Tell me about." he takes another sip. letting the moment stew. "Usually you limit yourself to being a nuisance or practical jokes. I know you can do so much worse."
"Yes, The ability to sense and agitate impulses can be very harmful. Gore and excess violence are not my vices, you know I....."
"and that's why we left you alone." the fierce statement sliced though my train of thought.
"Thanks?" Vesper only nodded leading to another silent moment, "You know coma patients are usually alone in their...uh... coma. Not that I don't appreciate your company but why are you here?"
"Ah Yes!" Vesper remembered, "I wanted to pull your mind out to talk with my Friends."
"Gamma Team?" I inquired knowing the answer. Vesper presents a hand for a handshake "Lets get this over with..." I sigh as silver tendrils encompass the handshake. the silver ribbons wind around my arm up to my shoulder before wrapping my whole body the last thing I hear is a pop.
(1/2)
|
Jill Ryerson beamed at me from my doorstep, a copy of "Stodgey and the Mushroom Stone" in one hand and a pair of crutches in the other.
"This is my book! Before the accident, I'd never wanted to write. I hated English class. I hated reading. The doctors said I changed because of the head injury. I tell ya, I just started getting all these ideas," she said.
This wasn't how I imagined this conversation would go. I expected her to be angry, or at least bitter. I would apologize profusely and it wouldn't be enough. Then she was supposed to tell me through tears how much I ruined her life and how much she'd hate me for the rest of her days for taking her legs away from her. It went that way every time I'd thought of it, which was every day since it happened.
I wanted to smile and make do like everything was nice, but I found myself angrier at her than anything. How could she be this successful young author, happy as can be, when I was supposed to have stolen her happiness from her? There were so many things I wanted to say. I wanted to tell her of all the sleepless nights I'd spent thinking about how things would've gone differently if I wasn't texting and driving. Hell, even saying I was sorry would be good enough, but I couldn't seem to access any of that at the moment. Instead, I let fly with my first impression of what she said.
"*The title sounds a lot like the first Harry Potter book*."
Her smile turned into an ashen frown. It was as if I'd just run her over again with a different kind of truck.
She stood rigidly, staring me down from head to toe. "You know, I came here to thank you. To tell ya that I made peace with it, that you even inspired me."
"Look, I'm sorry." I said.
She shook her head. "Did you even read the book?"
I backed away nervously. "Can't admit that I have."
"If you did, you'd know that it's nothing like *Harry Potter*. A kid gets hit by a wagon on a country road and is badly injured. He's taken to a witch's hut, where a witch promises him that she can save him, but he'll have to eat a mushroom that will bestow a curse on him. The curse paralyzes him, so he can't walk. At first, he's disheartened, but after meeting a fairy who tells him about something called the mushroom stone, he believes the curse can be undone. And that's all I'm sayin'. You should've read it."
She handed me the book, the frown lifting from her face. "It's signed."
I sighed. "Look, I'm really sorry."
"It's OK," she said, turning away. "I left a message for you inside. Read it."
"I will," I said. "Thanks for stopping by."
She used her crutches to walk down to the car she came in, then got in the passenger seat. As the car drove off I opened the copy of the book and looked for her message, which was on a piece of paper carefully folded between the pages.
"Dear Stan,
I'm so glad to be able to give you this copy of my book. The accident inspired me to write it. I spent so many nights imagining what I'd do to you for stealing my youth, and that really made the words flow onto the page. I imagined that I'd meet you one more time so that you could see me alive and thriving despite what you did, and then I'd ensure that you met a worse fate than I did.
Now that I'm successful, I can afford to make my dreams a reality.
Jill"
I was about to put the book down when I heard a car pull into the drive. *Oh shit.* I froze, wondering what I should do. I never heard the assassin enter the house because the last thing I saw before I heard the gun go off was Jill's face smiling against the pane of glass on my front door.
r/StoriesToThinkAbout
|
Zwei_Anderson
|
armageddon_20xx
|
2025-01-12 03:26:24
|
2023-03-13 03:09:53
| 40 | 24 |
m6ot5nq
|
jc0gb9i
|
1hz0cf3
|
11pue97
|
[WP] I need to address this
|
"The enemy stands at our gate." Henry bellowed to the crowd of soldiers.
Their angry yells fuelling his blood for the fight yet to come.
"Will we let them win?" He yelled.
"No!" Came the answer.
"Will we let them win?"
"No!"
"Will we let them win?"
"NO!"
Now was the time to motivate his men, his countrymen to lay their lives for what they believed in.
"We will win. And when we win, we will build our city. Yes, the food resources will almost be depleted. Yes, our farmlands will be razed to the ground. Yes, the disease may follow the dead and make more of our people sick. Yes, our coffers will almost be empty. Yes, our bodies may never recover from the battle. Yes, we will lose people we love."
"Uh, My Lord, I don't think-" His advisor, George, hissed in his ears but his blood pumped for the fight to come.
"We may lose our children, some may even be taken as hostages. Some soldiers may be captured to be taken as prisoners of war. Our women may be-"
"My Lord-" George loudly cleared his throat.
Henry looked down and then realised that the men were silent. He could even hear the cricket chirping in the field nearby. Well, hell
"But they will never break our spirit," He said to the men and the few crickets that were chirping now. "Our backs, maybe."
"What Lord Henry means is that when we win none of this would happen!" George said, trying to rouse the frightened crowd.
"No, no, it may still happen." Henry said shaking his head gloomily.
"What our Lord means is that we should never give up!" George said a little bit desperately.
"We don't really have any other options." Henry mumbled.
"Oh, for fucks sake!" George facepalmed.
*
[You can find more of my stories at r/iknowthisischeesy]
|
All right, listen up men!
^(What's that? Oh yeah, sorry, I keep forgetting.)
Listen up, men and girls!
^(What?! Oh, for fuck's sake, fine. Yes, I remember the diversity and inclusivity training...)
Listen up, soldiers!
^(Happy? Good.)
I know you've all been through the wringer. I know you've all lost friends. I know you've seen your friends torn apart, limb from limb, grown men and women, screaming for their mommies in their last, agonizing moments of life.
I know it's been bad.
And I know we've been losing more battles that we've been winning. I know there's rumors that we're losing the war, that the aristocracy is already negotiating with the invaders to secure our place in the coming occupation. Those rumors are false, by the way. These bugs don't care about nobility or birthrights, they just like eating us. In fact, they seem to like eating us nobles even more than you commoners, so, heh, trust me, we're all on the same side.
But none of that matters. What matters is this coming battle. We need to stop these aliens from taking this city, or it's going to basically lose the war for us. That's right, if we lose this fight, we're probably going to lose the war.
So you all need to dig down deep! You'll need to fight till your last breath, to follow orders, no matter how insane they sound. You'll need to maintain your composure, even as the soldiers around you are tearing their vocal cords from screaming as the bugs eat them alive, bite by bite.
I know there are fifty thousand bugs marching our way. I know there's only four thousand of you. But the good news is that you don't need to destroy this force outright. You just need to hold them long enough for the evacuation to be completed, after which we'll be dropping a nuke on this city.
Now, to ensure that there are no deserters, the decision has been made to evacuate the nobility first. So all of your families and friends will be leaving last. Keep that in mind as you fight. The longer you hold out, the more of your families will survive.
We've got requests in with the ministry of defense for extra ammo, so we're going to go ahead and issue everyone a second magazine right off the bat. There's an aid station in the town hall, about two miles from where you'll be dug in, meaning that medical services will be available. So don't worry about losing a hand or a foot, we can grow you a new one back at the aid station. Well, actually, you'll need to be medically evacuated to a hospital for that, and they won't be doing any medical evacuations until the main one is done, but the aid station will keep you alive until then.
I want you all to know, you'll be fighting not just to save your families from being devoured by the bugs, you're also fighting for your country, for your king and for the peerage. Every one of us is so grateful for the sacrifices you all have made, and will make. Don't let this leave the camp, but there's even been rumors in parliament about passing a law allowing the younger sons of our title-holders to join the military and fight beside you.
So that's about it, men. Sorry, soldiers. Let's get out there and save our nation! Can I get a cheer?!
^(Why aren't they cheering?)
|
iknowthisischeesy
|
MjolnirPants
|
2023-08-11 17:07:07
|
2023-08-11 16:20:25
| 68 | 44 |
jvr78xj
|
jvqzjzo
|
15oc3mv
|
15oc3mv
|
[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.
|
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.
|
"Really" I muttered, as Ryan the one who I had trusted, my partner in crime pointed the gun on me. Without hesitation, he let out the first shot \*BANG\* .... a burning sensation quickly swallowed my chest, I fell to the floor.
Ryan slowly walked closer to me, his eyes gazed in mine .... those eyes. We were both in high school when we became friends through sports, it was a bit rocky at the start but we eventually found ourselves helping each other throughout school, having sleepovers and eventually going to jail together, yeah we went through alot; the kind Ryan that was always there for me, supporting me, now getting ready to take my life..... what went wrong?.
"Why" I forcefully muttered, my chest tightening, making it hard to breathe.
"The truth is, the game was rigged from the start" he responded, in a tone which was more jovial than regretful. "Huh" I whispered, then it hit me.... After our first arrest, Ryan became somewhat of a junkie. He did everything he could to secure some dollars to feed his sick addiction, he even stole from his mother. A couple months back, we were tipped off by a girl working with a wealthy business man as a house cleaner, that he would be out of town and he always left some of his bank cards and a handsome amount of cash in his room in which she had the keys for.
"Perfect opportunity to change our lives" Ryan blurted, when he heard the news
"Yeah but you know it's very risky, this isn't a game" I said in response, worryingly
"Cmon dude, all you need to do is sneak in after she is done cleaning, grab the keys and make bank, it is like a game".
I looked up at him from my worryingly stare at the floor and nodded. If only I knew what would had become of this situation I would've went there in secret, took the money and ran away... I should had known after all, because he had brought a gun when I went to pick him up to go do the robbery, why would we need a gun? noone would be there. "It's just in case things go south". Yeah they did, and it was his all doing.
Up came Ryan's hand again, pointing the pistol at me, my heart sank... this is how it ended. Without hesitation, he let out another round, I felt it penetrate my lower abdomen, at this point I began to feel an outer body experience, slowly losing consciousness .... slowly ..... and I saw black.
|
None
|
Conscious-Grab-2869
|
2023-08-17 22:32:11
|
2023-08-17 21:18:57
| 33 | 10 |
jwn520t
|
jwmtia4
|
15twp5a
|
15twp5a
|
[WP] "The human engineer costs HOW MUCH?" the captain was shocked. "Well, the human's rate itself is cheap. I'm including a week's worth of food. They're ludicrously expensive to maintain, but I'll be damned before I board a ship WITHOUT a human crew as well," said the broker.
|
'What makes the human so valuable? One could afford an entire team of sophents with the required skills in place of this one human.'
The broker waved an appendage and burbled a reply to it's translation bot. [Master Q'Rrtuplt points out that humans believe in cross training. They do not specialize like other sophents. This particular human has tested at Master level in spatial mechanics, annihilation reactor engineering, xeno-biology, and several types of combat arts from small unit tactics and more. When informed of the high level of risk of piracy estimated in the sector, it requested berthing and employment aboard your ship, specifically.]
The Captain leaned back in confusion. Master ratings in one field required massive amounts of dedication, and usually resulted in high paying, low risk work, usually teaching.
'I still do not understand. If this human is so skilled, why does it not take a Guild position?'
The broker gurgled a response. [The humans concluded it's last war against the Zil one solar cycle ago.] Seeing the Captain's lack of comprehensive.
[It is bored.]
|
"The human engineer costs *how much?*" the captain was shocked by the figure named.
"Well, the human's rate itself is cheap. I'm including a week's worth of food as well. They're ludicrously expensive to maintain, these humans, but I'll be damned before I board a ship *without* human crew as well on board it," said the broker.
The captain of the space vessel *Oing-Re-Ta* stared at the Broker of Record and was not sure what to do. As a member of the N'g Tribe, bound to the Rim Mercantile Amalgam he had little chose in what commissions *hir* took but this pushed *hir* to the limit of reason. The cost of this one human member would force *hir* to go before the Evaluation Board of N'g to show cause when *hir* returned home.
As Allocated *Xhasa* Captain, Ko'hoyt had the responsibility for assuring the voyage was a success.. An honour without question but still the monetary costs were going to be dangerously close to requiring Demolition of *hir* by Sect Law.
The Broker of Record Herriss't, High Regulator of the Council of Business and Relations looked at Captain Ko'hoyt and smiled as only a reperé could in such situations. Ko'hoyt felt *hir* two stomachs tighten in concern.
"If this works out your tribe and your sect could see riches beyond your *dreams*," the tone vibrated Captain Ko'hoyt's central vein with its deep tone and hidden meanings.
"And support members needed?" h*ir* asked.
"Only two others are needed. My valet and the engineer's mate would be joining us. I will not cover the cost of their maintenance but as they are support I am sure the cost can be adjusted to make it more palatable."
He added, "*if* needed."
"*Tyhafa*!!" the captain swore as *hir* slumped back in the chair.
"Now, now. The run is only four weeks long. It does not involve combat. The cargo is *safe*." Herriss't looked positively happy as his forked tongue snapped out and back in. "Very nice deal for you, I am sure."
Captain Ko'hoyt looked at the wall displays around the room. The walls were covered from floor to ceiling with display tech. No one had windows or glass on their ships except the crazy humans but having such displays did ease Ko'hoyt's mind as *hir* thought about the deal.
A run to the edge of the Restricted Zone of the Earth-Sphere and Local Known Mind space? A run *while* the hearings were still underway for the inclusion of Earth-Sphere as a member? Even after twenty seven cycles that was a fight no one wanted part of if they wanted to stay under Local Known Mind notice.
"So," the light of the displays glistened off Herrisst's scales as it flowed forward in the chair.
"Do we have a deal?"
|
Warboss_Squee
|
telpereon
|
2023-01-07 04:20:15
|
2023-01-07 03:26:29
| 577 | 81 |
j3ald8g
|
j3aep07
|
1058kxb
|
1058kxb
|
[WP] "So, what immortality do you have?" "What?" "Well everybody in this room has a type of immortality, I got hyper regeneration, the guy over the is a lich, the girl in leather can save and reload, and I am not bothered enough to keep talking so what is your immortality?" "Memory"
|
“Memory?” They asked. “How does that work?”
“Well as long as they’re remembered, everyone’s immortal, figuratively. I, however, am more literal.”
“So as long as you’re remembered, you can never die?”
“Well I ‘died’ 5000 years ago, but the me stood in front of you is a manifestation of people’s memories of me. As long as people alive remember me, I live on.”
“So all you have to do is keep interacting with people? Looks like you drew the king straw of immortality.”
“Not quite,” I correct, “I am a subject of people’s memories. And people’s memories are imperfect. The me infront of you is wildly different to even the me 50 years ago because people remember me imperfect. Then that becomes who I am, then people change me again and again. I don’t even remember who I was originally. I don’t even know if my name is the same.”
“Oh. That does sound difficult.”
|
I entered the room, where a dozen or so entities were already waiting.
From floating skulls, to Titans the size of mountains, I saw a variety of interesting individuals.
"Greetings, welcome to the gathering.
So, what immortality do you have?", a gentleman approached me.
This indeed was a gathering I finally chose to attend...a gathering of immortals.
"Hello...What do you mean?", I asked.
The gentleman smiled, and gestured to the other attendees.
"Let's start, well...that guy there is a lich, that girl over there munching on cupcakes has save points.
I have hyper regeneration, the Titan has invulnerability to everything, time included....
And a few more, so what's yours?", he asked.
"Memory.", I said, walking towards the table.
"Memory? What does that mean?", the girl munching on cupcakes asked.
"It means as long as my memory lives, so do I.", I said.
This attracted the attention of most of them...
Yeah, it was a bit cocky.
"You say it as if you were truly immortal...
But wouldn't that mean if the planet or planets your memory lives on are destroyed, you die as well?", the Titan asked, snorting.
"That's why I became a interdimensional writer.", I chuckled.
This confused them even more...all, but the lich.
"Hoh...you write books with yourself as the character or characters...and spread them through the universe, thus they remember you...
It's still gambling, isn't it?", it asked.
I laughed.
"Not just this universe, but all of them, and in different times, and to me it's not gambling...
For I am a decent writer.", I said.
They all quieted down, and surrounded me.
I chuckled awkwardly, feeling I might have been too...forward? Too cocky?
I am not good at socializing.
"Ahm, sorry if I...", I started.
Before I could finish my apology, they all laughed, and patted my shoulders.
"Good! Then we truly welcome you here!
God, we aren't many, immortals that is, and even less are enjoying socializing...
So we are happy to hear you are confident in your immortality, and we hope you will join our centennial meetings!", the gentleman who welcomed me said.
I nodded.
They smiled, and we started discussing about everything and anything, laughing, joking, exchanging ideas...
It was so good, I wondered why I haven't joined it earlier...
|
apatheticchildofJen
|
TheWanderingBook
|
2024-11-16 14:21:52
|
2024-11-16 13:20:21
| 804 | 210 |
lxfoebd
|
lxfff2x
|
1gsmjmm
|
1gsmjmm
|
[WP] A group of elves is chatting on the table next to you in their native tongue, and the entire party is staring at the ranger who studied elvish. Veins bulging, jaw clenched, fist tighten around the mug he is holding, and face all red as he desperately tries to not explode into laughter.
|
"Ekther mag thromo mirin," The tallest said quietly, then cast a glance at our table. "Mytiro bekther som. Rodep fefhi serm."
The fellow across from her looked over his shoulder, but the girl to his left smacked him and hissed, "*Ekther* mag thromo. Ekther, guti."
The tall one locked eyes with me and immediately looked down, whispering, "Rioto hok! Rioto hok!" Her face started turning the purple Mike had told me was elf blushing.
Speaking of Mike, I decided to check with him, make sure they were saying anything too... insulting. At first, I thought he was angry, his face turning red, knuckles going white. Then a snort slipped out, then a small guffaw.
"You okay?" Thena asked with real concern.
"He'll be fine," I grumbled into my glass. Then pointing a thumb over shoulder, "The elves just made a racist joke."
"No," Mike gasped out, then finally burst. His laughter drew the stares of everyone in the tavern, and the bard stop his playing until it was silenced.
The elves already looked nervous, then Mike called out, "Ai mytiri anther sommu," which made them all blush. He turned back to me, and said, "It was not a joke, you paranoid prick." He turned back to them, "Etwo cawm?"
"Did he just ask if the speak common?" Thea asked me.
"How should I know?"
The tall one raised her hand.
"Perfect. He'll be right over." Mike said, making her blush all the more. Then turning back to me, "Pretty sure she's never seen an orc before, and she's very curious, if you catch my drift."
"Huh?"
"Oh god," Thena said as she palmed her face. "Just go take the empty seat. We'll see you tomorrow."
"Huh?"
"Well, intelligence is his dump stat," Mike said, before dragging me over to the elf table. The other two elves headed for ours at the same time, and suddenly I pieced it together. Now it was my turn to blush.
|
Those fucking elves; they’re pompous, back-stabbing, little bastards, but they make good food at least. Somewhere between the matters of disdain and admiration for the small bowl of soup between my hands, I’ve found myself in a rather unfortunate situation.
Me; the son of a blacksmith, whose entire village was whipped out in an elvish border raid, was now sitting in the middle of their god-forsaken pile of twigs they like to call a capital. If I could put the expression resting on my face into context, I’d imagine that it’s anything but smiling at the present moment as my colleagues, a band of adventurers, chitter to themselves.
Well, aside from the gnome ranger, whose attention has been focused on the conversation at a nearby table and appears to be boiling with an unfathomable rage. Well, at least what appeared to be, until the moment, he bends over himself at the stomach, wheezing and giggling to himself. “I can’t fucking take this anymore. We’ve been here well over three hours and the only thing I’ve heard these knife-ears screech about is how far their own stick is stuck up their ass compared to their peers.”
I held a stare with the man, as the other two carried on with their conversation with the elvish diplomat we’d been stuck with for this venture, some sort of princess or other, to a local house. Finally, sensing an escape from the looming murderous rage in my stomach, I leaned down to the gnome, now gasping for air. “Enlighten me. What’ve you heard?”
A long, low wheeze escaped from his lips; as he slapped one gloved fist against the table with his drink in hand. “They’re — they’re talking about their fucking chamber-pots and how they pay their servants too much to handle the issue. They don’t have proper fucking plumbing here.”
I caught my laugh in my throat, completely not expecting the answer I’d received. I was always looking for a reason to disparage their ilk, but this was too easy, as I stood up from the small table politely. “One moment.”
I hadn’t had time enough to find a proper room and board within the city yet, on account of arriving here within the last few hours but. I was now rather focused on my new quest to take these leaf nibblers down a few more pegs.
However, I needed to confirm its veracity for the sake of my mental wellness.
Five minutes later, I came back to the table near the end of the fellow’s conversation and locked eyes with the ranger as I sat down. The anticipation in his eyes was enough to communicate what his question was, even if he hadn’t voiced it within the split second I’d settled in.
“Is it true?”
I looked at the others, still enraptured in their conversation, before turning back upon being sure enough that they weren’t paying attention. I nodded once, smiling with great satisfaction at just how things had turned out so well. In perfect silence, the gnome began to inhale and exhale between pursed lips to not break their contenance.
A lesser creature might’ve broken in the moment, but now, sensing weakness, I leaned in even closer. “I consider it an immensely satisfying conclusion that some poor sod about half my size is going to carry my arm sized shit out to the river.”
And with that, the gnome finally broke down completely.
I just smiled to myself as I dragged down the squeaking visor of my helmet to hide my joy.
Vengeance at last.
|
NextEstablishment856
|
ItsUnlucky
|
2024-08-26 00:07:31
|
2024-08-26 00:05:36
| 757 | 162 |
ljxs9ml
|
ljxrzi5
|
1f19hm0
|
1f19hm0
|
[WP] As you tuck your daughter into bed, she tells you that there's a monster in her closet. Thinking she's just being a kid, you open the closet to show her there's nothing there, but you instead find your daughter who tells you that there's someone in her bed.
|
"Refill, hon?"
I held out my mug with a smile and replied, "You're a peach, Tina."
Tina the waitress topped off my coffee before stepping out from behind the counter with an order of chicken and waffles. "So, heard you threw down with Kestrel yesterday. What happened there?"
I chuckled through a mouthful of hashbrowns. "Guy tried to make off with a black-footed ferret from a national park the next state over. Knocked the bastard out of the sky and returned the little fuzzy thing back home."
Tina cackled in the middle of dropping off the order. "A ferret? Really??"
With a shrug, I answered, "It's an endangered species, and folks will pay through the nose for exotic pets. Honestly, I feel like just getting a standard ferret from a pet store and putting dye on its paws would've been much less of a hassle."
"Well hey now, don't give me any ideas. Last thing I need is for you to take me down to the station."
"Oh please, like I'd do anything to risk my access to Johnny's pancakes."
Johnny saluted me through the hole to the kitchen as I savored my cup of joe, the steam fogging up my glasses in the way I liked. But no sooner had I fallen into a state of serenity did a resounding *BOOM* echo in the far distance, followed shortly by a column of emerald light right in the middle of the street. With an exasperated sigh, I turned around to see a seven-foot tall titan in black and red armor, clutching a woman in tattered silver robes by the throat as several other people in costumes lay scattered about with bruises aplenty.
Tina poked her head up and confusedly remarked, "What the hell're the Headliners doing here?"
I put a twenty on the counter and pushed a tiny button on my glasses, covering the lenses in a high-strength windshield. "Guess my break's over."
I stepped out of the diner just as Sun Sage was thrown at me. I slowed her down to about a quarter-mile an hour before grabbing her, setting her on the ground and asking, "Fill me in, if you'd be so kind."
Sage looked at me with annoyance before responding, "He's called the Black Beast. He's a gladiatorial champion from the other end of the Andromeda galaxy. I tried teleporting him and the Headliners to an unpopulated area, but the spell got interrupted and we ended up here. Goes without saying, but you're not a match for him."
"Yeah yeah, big man's gonna get his teeth kicked clean through his skull, but what can he do exactly? Any sort of healing factor?"
"No. Seriously, Clutch, leave this to the profes--"
I flicked Sage's ear. "My town, Sunny. I handle this."
I left Sage and strolled up to the Black Beast as he lifted Machinist by the head. I tapped his leg a few times and whistled loudly. "Son, I'm gonna have to ask you to let go of the man."
Black Beast whipped around and looked down at me with an obvious sneer in his tone as he growled, "And who exactly are you, little girl? Another wannabe hero?"
"Name's Clutch. I'm not the law around here, but I do have a vested interest in making sure this place stays standing."
Black Beast dropped Machinist on the ground and turned to face me. "I've beaten the greatest warriors from seven different galaxies. I have cracked open meteors with a single strike. My armor is forged by the flames of a dying star and christened with the blood of my father. What can you possibly hope to do?"
I smirked. "Well, since you asked so nicely."
A sound like ball bearings in a sack split the air. Black Beast looked down and saw ice rapidly spreading along his legs like a hungry parasite. "How are you --"
*BANG BANG BANG*
Black Beast fell to the ground screaming as three bullets tore through his legs, shattering them like glass. I blew away the smoke from my revolver and holstered it before touching Black Beast's forehead with a cheeky, "Annnnd pause!"
Black Beast froze in place, his scream getting cut off as I fished a piece of bubble gum from my jacket and turned around to face a bewildered Sage. "I can hold that for about an hour, so you better get something to hold this guy."
Sage glanced between me and Black Beast rapidly before slowly asking, "What did you...do?"
"Slowed down the molecules in his body until he froze, and then put his body into a neutral state so he can't move under his own power."
"How--but you--you just make bullets fly faster!!"
I grinned and popped the gum in my mouth. "Now where'd you get the *crazy* idea bullets was all I could affect?"
|
The cow gave me a reproachful stare as I set her back in the field. Mr Travis slowly walked up to me, smiling on the infectious way of his. "Thats the last one. Cheers Greenie, you just saved me a whole heap of trouble."
I gave him a smile in turn, looking across the field. The bushes I had quickly grown were standing strong, as they would do until he could get that fence fixed. The other cows were milling about, returned home after their eventful day. It was a nice sight, as my gaze returned to him. "Thats no problem at all, it's what I'm here for. I'd better get back to home though, ready for the next call. But I'll see you again in a few days for my usual pickup?"
He grinned wider, nodding. "Sure thing. See you then."
We waved each other off, as I headed back. Not that the other [Dreamers](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/159anll/comment/jtf27ij/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3) would be interested, but I had to keep them updated as to what I did. My report for the day would probably be given a causal glance before being filed away. Not that I could blame them. Catching wandering cows wasn't exactly the stuff of [legends](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/15ku7uu/comment/jv7oa0z/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3).
I reached to the grass below my feet, making it bend and flex. Strengthened stalks lifted me up, before making me race along the ground without moving my legs. Maybe it was a bit of a lazy way to travel, but I couldn't deny it worked.
I arrived back home within the hour, seeing my farmhouse standing proud before my little orchard. The organisation had bought the place for me, and outfitted it with all the necessary bits and bobs that made it a base for them. I had taken the initiative to buy that little extra land as well, and used my ability to grow the lovely selection.
The majority weren't native, and by all rights should grow here. But I persuaded them to, and with fresh fruit produced all year round, it made the community more than happy to support me. It was absolutely a cushy assignment here, perfectly suited to me.
But as I approached, I noticed a tremor in the grass and weeds. Someone was here, looking for me. I couldn't see them, but their presence had been felt. I stopped, crouching low and connecting with my plants. Through them I saw the area around me, and a place where they were being crushed.
It was behind the house. This... person was crouched low. I felt the phantom pain as something sharp cut through the plants below, damaged without thought. Knowing they were there I kept still, calling out loudly. "You can come out."
I heard a rustle, before a person stalked out from behind my home. Their body was thick, fur poking out around straining clothes. Their head was shaped almost bear like, but I could see the human intelligence in their eyes. They growled, and spoke in a guttural voice. "Finally.... Greenfinger."
I raised an eyebrow, watching them from a distance. "Who might you be?"
Their laugh was heavy, fur rippling with each breath. "Ha! I am Ravager. And you are my prey."
Their self assurance made me roll my eyes. I had heard of them. A new super on the scene. From the sounds of it, they wanted to be on a similar level and [Nightmare](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/s/WnP0XKbmY5). The city based [Dreamers](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/18pzlxy/comment/kespn59/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3) had spoken of his strength and aggression. The assumption was his power was limited shape shifting, primarily into wolf or bear like appearances.
The others had managed to drive him away, but he had yet to be caught. If I had to guess, he probably wanted to get some prestige by taking out a [Dreamer](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/18hndq6/comment/kd826d9/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3). Being one of the lone posts, he probably thought I would be a push over.
How wrong he would be. I crossed my arms, bending my knees ever so slightly. "Prey? I hardly think so. I will give you this opportunity to surrender peacefully."
All I got in return was a roar, as he leapt towards me. He over quickly, definitely used to charging into action. I couldn't ignore the slight twinge of fear as he approached, with all those teeth and claws. But even as he moved, so did I.
The plants beneath him surged upwards, thick vines wrapping around his limbs. They snapped taut as he moved, but held on. I gave him a small smile,before having them whip him into the ground. Other vines followed, reaching up to grab his body, trying to hold him.
He snarled, spitting at me. "You think twigs can stop me?!"
I heard snapping, as vines started to split. He was strong, I had to admit that. But his strength was all physical. In the city scape, that would be helpful in maneuvering its stone, metal and glass. But out here in the country? This was my playground.
He roared to his feed, laughing to himself. Yet that died, as he noticed a few plants growing upwards. They surrounded him, almost like a firing squad. Yet instead of guns, they had thorns. Long, sharp thorns.
I waved my hand, making my bushes release them. Ravager roared as they peppered him, making him look like he had gotten on the wrong side of a porcupine. It wasn't deadly by any means, but I would hurt him. A lot. And it did, if the scream-like roar was anything to go by.
More vines reached up to hold him down. A few grabbed the thorns, driving a couple deeper in not-too-damaging places. He tried to strain, again, but unfortunately for him I was ready. More vines than before grappled him, holding him in place.
I made sure he could not move before shifting from my position. My colleagues from the city would likely rub it in his face, but I found that beneath me. I would simply call it in, and have someone come out and collect him.
|
jardanovic
|
Shalidar13
|
2024-01-07 21:07:06
|
2024-01-07 20:31:00
| 795 | 220 |
kgsbi07
|
kgs4qw9
|
190yicv
|
190yicv
|
[WP] You are a literal god who pretends to be a d-list superhero. You've grown extremely attached to the people of the village you protect. You get news that an epic battle is taking place near your village and would most likely destroy it...
|
Sheriff Lucky Star. That's my official superhero name, because things always go my way and I insisted on wearing the little costume badge my kid gave me when he found out I would help people. He wanted me to be like the guys in his cowboy stories. I fear the day he finds out I failed him. Just one time, I didn't get somewhere in time. Luck didn't have my back.
The day his mother, the hero Void, died. The villains should have been easy for someone of hero abilities to handle, but they had a new person with them. Called himself Vantage Point. He was the perfect counter to her powers and she was dead in under a minute.
I appeared at her side before she even hit the ground and laid her down gently. Then, with a glance as Vantage Point tried to attack me too, his own power turned on him and he became riddled with bullets. Inferno burned from the inside out. Wall became so heavy their body collapsed in on itself. Feral became an animal to try and escape, but an out of control vehicle struck them dead.
In under a minute, all four felt a fraction of my pain. My agony.
I'm never far from my son nowadays. I won't risk it, even as he starts to develop his own powers. His mother's powers. I'm happy my own worked out in that regard. No one should be able to twist fate to suit their whims, because there are always moments where fate twists back....
|
Life is so amazing.
I am a d-list superhero, helping the villagers thrive and survive in a mad world filled with danger.
Monsters, beasts, demons, aliens, villains and so much more are commonplace and the normal people need protection.
With my "Intelligence" superpower, I counter the attacks of wildlife, and with the village following my plans it is getting stabler and stabler.
Life is amazing.
"Little Sophia, once again scouting?
So young and doing so much.", an elder of the village said.
"Mr. Merl, please, it is my pleasure and duty.", I said.
He just shook his head.
"Saw you grow up, and was the first to awaken a power in this backwater village.
While not being chosen by a city or any academy, you made us be one of the richest villages, and we lose less than a tenth of people other villages lose against our own planet.
We are proud of you lass, but don't burn yourself out.", he said.
I smiled, warmth feeling me.
"I will take care.", I said, leaving to scout the surroundings.
Haven't gone too far, barely a hundred or so kilometers, when I faced a brooding stormy situation.
An army of various demon-kind was facing an army of monsters, while I could see a couple arch-mages laying in ambush, probably wanting to catch some test-materials.
The strongest beings were almost at the level of demigods, and their fight could level thousands of kilometers...
I sighed.
"Glauca this is a forest battle, your presence shan't be that weird.", I said.
An owl hoot later, a bright blue light covered the battlefield, before the forest, mountains, and skies returned to peace.
I went back to the village after scouting a bit more.
News of the disappearance of the armies, and arch-mages shook the world.
Many villains, superheroes, and other such individuals set foot into the surroundings, trying to find out what happened.
"It seems I didn't manage to solve anything...
Big sis Ananke seems to strike again.", I laughed.
"Little Sophia, hurry, go away.
Too many high profile people are gathering in our surroundings...
You are a young lass...beautiful at it...", Mr. Merl came in with other elders, and important figures of the village, like the butcher, or the blacksmith, or the physician.
All were once my suitors.
I smiled at them, as I came to really like these people.
"Glauca be a sweetie and ask a few of your brethren to become guardians of this place.
Elders, fellow villagers, I will always protect you.", I said, disappearing.
The village then was covered in a blue light, as the surroundings became quiet with many high-ranking species of owls starting to protect it.
Since Sophia disappeared, the village's advancement got slower, but nobody dared to touch them, especially after a hero known as "Demigod of Night", was found skewered to an olive tree, in a forest up in the north...
|
Runecaster91
|
TheWanderingBook
|
2024-04-16 14:28:23
|
2024-04-16 13:03:00
| 25 | 12 |
kzu1swq
|
kztoe5e
|
1c56rkq
|
1c56rkq
|
[WP] You died, you met a god(dess), and you got offered a new life in another world with the usual package -- OP powers, a personal harem, the works. Smelling a scam, you refused. That pissed them off.
|
"If it's too good to be true, it likely is."
"Are you calling my offer to become a Chosen One...a scam?"
"Isn't it?"
"I would kill you on the spot! If only you weren't already dead!"
"Hit me with something, or you're full of bullshit."
"That's what you said! Don't blame me if it hurts!"
"Oww, oww. Okay! Stop! You made your point!"
"We could be at this all day, for all eternity until you accept my offer to be a Chosen One. Do you not like being OP with hot girls fawning over you and a band of awesome sidekicks? I have seen the LitRPG stuff you read. Why would you not love my offer?"
"Because those are escapist fantasies!"
"Why would you not want to live out your escapist fantasy? I am giving you exactly what you dream of! Take it! Or else!"
"Ughh, okay! Stop dropping anvils on me like some looney toons character! Lemme tell you why. Because, I know, at the end of the day, I need to wake up from my dreams. Get out of the fantasy and back to reality."
"If you love your dull, boring reality as a fast food worker so much, you can have it back!"
"Suits me just fine! Your Chosen One offer is a scam anyway!"
"Don't regret it, foolish mortal! And remember, if you get yourself killed jumping in front of a truck, trying to be a hero again, you will see me again!"
**
--
"Back again so soon? What is it with you and pushing little kids away from trucks?"
"Why is it you again?
"That's what I asked. Why don't you pull them to safety instead?"
"The hell I know! It was all very instinctive."
"I hate to admit this, but there isn't anyone like you in this afterlife. So, do you want to be a Chosen One?"
"You still running this scam again?"
"Stop accusing me of a scam! Look, I could just chuck you into the isekai world, but consent is important. There's been a newly formed union of heroes suffering from Main Character Syndrome. They successfully sued us gods of Isekai for forcible kidnapping and endangerment! So now I need your fucking consent."
---
[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/)
|
"And by doing that, we will rid the world of all of its nuclear warheads! Hahahahahahahahaha!" Wolf stared silently at The Joker and Luthor as Joker laughed maniacally at their plan before Superman spoke. "Wait , so why are we fighting right now?"
"Hahahaha- wha- what?" Wolf spoke next."Yeah... this actually seems like a relatively good idea. Granted, Luthor gets a cap on the nuclear power market , but with no more warheads, what's the problem?"
"Wait, you're actually going to let us go through with this? It's borderline insanity! We're talking about ridding the world of its ultimate defenses!" Joker threw up his arms in anger."Seriously! If either of you were Batman, I'd be laying in the back of his car bleeding from half my oraphases with broken bones by now! Don't you idiots know how this works?!"
"I mean, yeah, that's normally how Bats does things, but this seems like a good idea. Nobody needs a nuclear warhead if nobody has one."
"Mistah J! I found that shiny green rock to stop Superman ya wanted!" Joker and Luthor turned in formation. "NOT NOW HARLEY!" Turning back, Lex Sighed. "Okay, I don't think you're understanding what's going on here. Let's make sure we're all on the same page, okay? Now. We have agents in every single country with a nuclear warhead and have hacked the global database for those codes. Are we clear so far?"
"Yeah..." said Wolf.
"Mmhm." Came the reply from Superman
"Crystal clear!" Came the reply from Harley Quinn.
"Joker?"
"Hmm? Oh yeah, whatever."
"Okay. With these codes, we are going to launch every warhead into space, ridding of the world of all nuclear weapons, with the goal of sending them into the sun. Clear?"
Everyone again replied in the affirmative.
"And no one sees a single problem with that?"
"Nope."
"Not really."
"Nuh uh!"
"Okay... so once I push this button, that's what will happen, right?"
Everyone again replied in the affirmative. "Okay, so I'm going to... GOD, I can't do this! HIT US! I mean, come on, this is ridiculous! Who knows what that will do to the sun?! I mean, realistically, Joker came up with 90% of this plan, and he's always insane!"
"I prefer the term Whacky."
"SHUT UP! Are you under the effects of Kryptonite or something?! Normally, I'd have had to drop you with the help of it by now! What is going on?!"
"Nothing is going on, Luthor. I just think it's a good idea. No more threat of Nuclear War, no more damaging the earth with harmful tests. I think it's a good strategy." Luthor stared at Superman with an incredulous look. "ARE YOU JOKING RIGHT NOW?! This plan Makes no sense! What if we had completely lied and decided to launch every warhead at some random country sparking World War 3?!"
"Ooh that's different. " Wolf replied. "Yeah it is. Luthor are you lying to us?"
"Mistah J, you didn't tell me that part of the plan."
"SHUT UP HARLEY!" Luthor roared as Joker Turned to him. "Hey only I can tell her to shut up!"
"Yeah only Mistah J can tell me to-"
"Shut up Harley!" Harley pouted as The 4 turned to each other again.
"So... are you gonna do it or.." Wolf asked as the 4 stared at each other. "You know what? To hell with it. YOU did this!" With that Luthor pushed a button on his arm. "What? Why isn't this working?"
"Looking for this?" Batman asked as he threw a broken circuit board at Lex's feet. "Wait all this was..."
"A simple ruse. Your right. Launching those weapons into the sun is crazy. But I do like the idea of getting rid of them."
"You IDIOT! HOW DID YOU LET THEM TRICK US?!"
Lex turned to Joker enraged. "ME? YOU BOUGHT IT TOO!"
"You're under arrest Luthor. You and Joker will spend a long time in Arkham."
"Oh please we both we'll be out within a week anyway..."
|
Tregonial
|
Lycan_Jedi
|
2024-07-23 18:35:45
|
2023-05-22 18:59:31
| 182 | 25 |
lel2c4q
| null |
1eaagdd
|
1bc1r4x
|
[WP] You died, you met a god(dess), and you got offered a new life in another world with the usual package -- OP powers, a personal harem, the works. Smelling a scam, you refused. That pissed them off.
|
I look at the Goddess on the imposing throne, and sigh.
"Don't sigh, dear mortal, for for your lifestyle, you have been chosen!
Despite dying, I am here to offer you whatever divine skills you desire, the love life of an Emperor, and the charms of a incubus!
Reincarnating in the world of your choosing, from this list, and becoming its savior and in the end...ruler.", she said, her voice sweet, and inspiring.
"Nah, that's a scam.
Just throw me into a worm's body or something, Imma be fine.", I said.
The Goddess froze.
"Dear mortal...
You have been chosen for a greater Fate...", she started.
"Yeah, no, I'm not the best choice.
Go next, thank you.", I said.
She was fuming.
"Listen up!
My divine blessings are coveted by mortals and immortals alike!
You think you can just refuse them?", she angrily asked.
I nodded.
She threw some lightning in my direction.
"Missed.", I said, as I looked at her heaving, and panting figure.
It was just a blurry figure, but damn, was she worked up.
"Mortal! YOU DARE DEFY ME?", she roared, as the entire place we were at shook.
"Yep.
Smells like a scam, sounds like a scam, you act like a caught-red-handed scammer, so yeah, no.
I refuse, just throw me into the afterlife, or nothingness or something.
I am dead anyway, not like you can make it worse.", I said.
At this she smirked, and started laughing.
"Ohoho, I could entrap your soul for eternity, making you suffer things you can't even imagine.", she said.
"'kay.", I said.
She froze, and almost fell over.
"What?", she asked.
"I said, 'kay. Do that.
Torture or whatever, it's not like I have a choice.
You've been literally throwing lightning at me, and your anger can shake this entire place.
Like the hell am I supposed to do against you?", I said.
"Just accept the reincarnation!", she sighed exhasperatedly.
"Nope. Sounds too scammy, too bothersome.", I said.
She roared, and started throwing stuff at me, and telling me ways she will torture me.
I shrugged.
I knew a bluff when I saw one, ditto with a scam.
If she thinks she can out-stubborn me, she was in for a surprise, after all...
I did die, because I was too stubborn...
|
"And by doing that, we will rid the world of all of its nuclear warheads! Hahahahahahahahaha!" Wolf stared silently at The Joker and Luthor as Joker laughed maniacally at their plan before Superman spoke. "Wait , so why are we fighting right now?"
"Hahahaha- wha- what?" Wolf spoke next."Yeah... this actually seems like a relatively good idea. Granted, Luthor gets a cap on the nuclear power market , but with no more warheads, what's the problem?"
"Wait, you're actually going to let us go through with this? It's borderline insanity! We're talking about ridding the world of its ultimate defenses!" Joker threw up his arms in anger."Seriously! If either of you were Batman, I'd be laying in the back of his car bleeding from half my oraphases with broken bones by now! Don't you idiots know how this works?!"
"I mean, yeah, that's normally how Bats does things, but this seems like a good idea. Nobody needs a nuclear warhead if nobody has one."
"Mistah J! I found that shiny green rock to stop Superman ya wanted!" Joker and Luthor turned in formation. "NOT NOW HARLEY!" Turning back, Lex Sighed. "Okay, I don't think you're understanding what's going on here. Let's make sure we're all on the same page, okay? Now. We have agents in every single country with a nuclear warhead and have hacked the global database for those codes. Are we clear so far?"
"Yeah..." said Wolf.
"Mmhm." Came the reply from Superman
"Crystal clear!" Came the reply from Harley Quinn.
"Joker?"
"Hmm? Oh yeah, whatever."
"Okay. With these codes, we are going to launch every warhead into space, ridding of the world of all nuclear weapons, with the goal of sending them into the sun. Clear?"
Everyone again replied in the affirmative.
"And no one sees a single problem with that?"
"Nope."
"Not really."
"Nuh uh!"
"Okay... so once I push this button, that's what will happen, right?"
Everyone again replied in the affirmative. "Okay, so I'm going to... GOD, I can't do this! HIT US! I mean, come on, this is ridiculous! Who knows what that will do to the sun?! I mean, realistically, Joker came up with 90% of this plan, and he's always insane!"
"I prefer the term Whacky."
"SHUT UP! Are you under the effects of Kryptonite or something?! Normally, I'd have had to drop you with the help of it by now! What is going on?!"
"Nothing is going on, Luthor. I just think it's a good idea. No more threat of Nuclear War, no more damaging the earth with harmful tests. I think it's a good strategy." Luthor stared at Superman with an incredulous look. "ARE YOU JOKING RIGHT NOW?! This plan Makes no sense! What if we had completely lied and decided to launch every warhead at some random country sparking World War 3?!"
"Ooh that's different. " Wolf replied. "Yeah it is. Luthor are you lying to us?"
"Mistah J, you didn't tell me that part of the plan."
"SHUT UP HARLEY!" Luthor roared as Joker Turned to him. "Hey only I can tell her to shut up!"
"Yeah only Mistah J can tell me to-"
"Shut up Harley!" Harley pouted as The 4 turned to each other again.
"So... are you gonna do it or.." Wolf asked as the 4 stared at each other. "You know what? To hell with it. YOU did this!" With that Luthor pushed a button on his arm. "What? Why isn't this working?"
"Looking for this?" Batman asked as he threw a broken circuit board at Lex's feet. "Wait all this was..."
"A simple ruse. Your right. Launching those weapons into the sun is crazy. But I do like the idea of getting rid of them."
"You IDIOT! HOW DID YOU LET THEM TRICK US?!"
Lex turned to Joker enraged. "ME? YOU BOUGHT IT TOO!"
"You're under arrest Luthor. You and Joker will spend a long time in Arkham."
"Oh please we both we'll be out within a week anyway..."
|
TheWanderingBook
|
Lycan_Jedi
|
2024-07-23 15:41:48
|
2023-05-22 18:59:31
| 304 | 25 |
mnseooj
| null |
1k2960e
|
1bc1r4x
|
[WP] You died, you met a god(dess), and you got offered a new life in another world with the usual package -- OP powers, a personal harem, the works. Smelling a scam, you refused. That pissed them off.
|
**LADIES AND GENTLEMEN THIS IS MY FIRST WRITING PROMPT PLEASE TELL ME HOW TO IMPROVE IF IT MAKES YOU FREEZE IN AGONISING AGONY.**
--------------------------------------------
*
*
"Yeah, no."
**"OF COURSE, FOR THY OFFER IS SOMETHING TO BE CH-did thou say no?"**
"Yes."
**"....Perhaps I hath misheard. You...would refuse the life all men crave?"**
"Bingo."
**"You...would deny a world its hero?"**
"Got it in one."
**"Deny thyself a purp-"**
"I had a purpose, dude. Up there. Your driver buddy seemed pretty eager to end it."
*"nothin' personal, mate."*
"No offense taken. Its your all powerful boss there I'm ticked with."
*"cheers."*
**"You had served a weak purpose, mortal, granting the petty wishes of tiny newborns-"**
*"he made ice cream for kids, boss."*
**"And I, in My all seeing and all knowing glory, singled thy out for greatness, for a far greater goal, and yet you would refuse?!"**
"Like he said, I sold frozen treats to kids. Light of my life might have just been seeing them smiling, but I'm not stupid."
**"I-I have no idea what thou means, mor-"**
"If I have to die, I'd want it to be because it was my time, not because you want to toss people into clearing a mess you made. No offense."
*"nah, none taken. almighty there's been launching me on kids all over the world."*
**"B-boatman, Thy may wish to shut thy mout-"**
"Hold up, you....you took kids? Like, actual kids?"
**"I NEEDNT EXPLAIN THE ACTIONS OF GODS TO YOU, MORT-"**
*"i mean it was kinda fucked up boss. probably won't take long to start up a spirit revolt with that kind of info. wink wink."*
"That...that wasn't my intentio-"
**"....I CANNOT...believe my Boatman has a point. Mortal....if thy chooses not to blab about My...actions, I shall grant thy one wish. Providing thy not take the DESIRABLE AND POWERFUL TRIP OF THY LI-"**
"Y-yeah, We've made that bit clear. Uh....I'm guessing I can't just wish for you to stop..."
*"if it worked that way, king numpty would be off his throne ages ago."*
**"Watch thy tone, Boatman.**
"...but maybe there's the next best thing?"
*
*
"I didnt even think they had ice cream in the underworld, mister! Thank you so much!"
"No Problem kid, stay away from the soul-cracks!"
*"yknow when you said the next best thing, i didn't think that would be an ice cream parlour to keep the kids around here happy."*
"Your boss wanted me to fight with a sword and shield. I'd rather fight with a scoop."
*"....but you'd rather not fight at all, yeah?."*
"Bingo."
|
A terrific injury was dealt. The swift nocking, pull, and release, all in one fluid motion as one single, deadly arrow was loosed. Time stood still as it's flight path revealed the certainty of the strike.
The flashing silver corkscrew-like arrow tip hit precisely where my armor was weakest, penetrating between my ribs, where my torso plates connected to my arm plates. It was a recent change to help with my mobility, my aging body slowed by the relentless passage of time.
There was no pain, but an explosion of force that seemed to mirror that of a massive battering ram at full speed, from inside my chest cavity, that sent me hurtling into the rubble of what once was a shopping center.
the breath had been pulled from me, as I slumped to the floor, barely conscious. A deafening silence was laid upon us, only interrupted by feeble gasps for air from what was left of my lungs.
And that's when I saw her. Quick Silver, as glorious as ever, reflecting what little light managed to penetrate the thick cloud of debris and earth that had been kicked up by the force of the killing blow.
She was crying, tears tracing the curvature of her cheeks and lips leaving a trail of wet amidst the dried concrete and earth that covered everything.
she was helping to support that devil into a standing position, that murderous traitor with whom I've fought these past 25 odd years, who called himself the Apocalypse.
I spat out his name along with hot, foamed blood. "What did you do to her!? Quick Silver... Sarah... You've taken everything from me, why must you have her too!? WHY!?"
His voice sounded worse than mine. Good, those new shrapnel rounds worked after all.
"I have taken nothing that you have not forsaken first."
I laughed. Well, tried to laugh. The sound that bubbled from my throat didn't resemble anything I've heard before. I spat again, more foamed blood, I estimate a minute left of consciousness.
"Everyone was safe, everyone was happy before you showed up... now they flee the safe zones, dooming themselves by doing your bidding!"
"I am FREEING THEM!" Apocalypse shouted, "You kept them in a cage! A fancy cage is still a cage!"
"but they were SAFE! She could live!... Sarah... why..." I raised my eyes to hers. She had half carried him closer now, just a few feet away, her lips were quivering, but her eyes were steadfast, determined. she remained silent.
"Yes. They were safe... but foregoing living so that one could remain so... isn't living." He almost whispered the last two words, pleading in tone. The fury of the battle ceased only moments ago had washed from his face, replaced with what looked a pale, lifeless mask of his former glory.
He wasn't like the other terrorists. He had been able to bribe them into subservience. Gave them all the extra benefits that could be afforded them, so that their lives were lived in endless epicurean delight. This man had wanted none of it. He almost cherished the poverty of his existence. If nothing else, I respected him for that.
But now he had gone too far. it was one thing to steal away citizens, but to take Sarah... my daughter... whom I trained and loved, and lead in battle against these extremists... she was my world. She was my everything. Without her I was nothing.
"What's your goal? to lure them all out into the waste? to let them die?"
"To let them LIVE! Anyway they want to! to let them make their OWN decisions, to actually live their LIFE!"
I cried out to the heavens, it seemed the only way to make my voice intelligible "What kind of life is one filled with pain??"
and she spoke. My Sarah... "a life worth living, dad. A life worth living"
At the sound of her words I began to cry, harsh, ragged sobs, expanding my chest painfully, but I couldn't stop. I couldn't be strong any longer.
she let Apocalypse stand unsupported as she fell to her knees, cupping my head in her hands, crying with me, kissing my forehead.
with what remained of my strength, I managed to croak "I... I... I'm sorry... I just want you to be happy"
"I know, Dad. I know"
|
Warlock_Guy25
|
jpreston2005
|
2024-07-23 17:30:11
|
2023-05-22 17:17:39
| 132 | 23 |
lekpshp
| null |
1eaagdd
| null |
[WP] You never asked to be a hero. People just expected it of you. The only reason you played along is because there were actual threats to the city. When a new 'villain', who wants control of the city themselves, puts a stop to the other villains, the hero decides he needs to talk with the new guy.
|
*Not bad*. I think to myself, spinning in an office chair in the middle of an empty room. Empty except for a very large cork board with layers of papers and information that even I could not muster myself to interpret it. *It’s much better than my place. If he ends up being nice I will have to ask where he got this place from.*
Then a sudden and very loud sound distracts me from my own thoughts. The front door had opened, or rather had been kicked down. I took a breath and spun the chair around, channelling my inner bond villain. Ironic considering the circumstances.
“I’ve been expecting you”
“Who the fuck are you?” queries the clearly annoyed man standing at the entrance.
“Oh, just a concerned citizen. I’ve been seeing some things and popped in for a quick check up on you.”
“Bullshit. This place is in the grungiest and dirtiest of the entire neighbourhoods in the city. The only neighbours I have are the drug addicts and the homeless. You don’t look like either.”
“You flatter me. Look, who I am shouldn’t matter. Just know this. You are on my radar.”
“And why, pray tell, am I on your radar?” He asks, coming closer to me.
“Because you have brought a change that I have been fighting for. Change —"I say while standing up “— that took me a better part of a decade to enact. All be it via a very different method compared to you. ”
I walk right up to him, noticing his now less angry gaze. His face is now showing curiosity. “And I’ve got to give a hand for your wonderful accomplishment. That drug lord menace? I haven’t been able to squash him down longer than a month and look at you – he’s been gone for over 3, and there is no sign of him showing his ugly mug ever again”
“You’re that guy aren’t you” he asks, not acknowledging my comments.
“You’re not really narrowing it down for me here.” I reply, very usuriously.
“You know what I mean. The rando who came out of nowhere and went all ‘Batman’ on this city a while ago.”
I laugh, “Batman? I am no furry. But yes, I am him. Want an autograph?”
The man snorts, “Cut the crap. Tell me what you want, and maybe you get to leave this place with all your limbs intact.”
I just gave him a look. We both knew that was ostensibly not true. I could waltz out of here at any time without a scratch. We both knew what I was capable of. What I had to do to be able to dare walk into the ‘lair’ of an up and coming supervillain.
“This is going nowhere,” I mutter glancing at my watch. “Look, due to your plans on overthrowing political figures willy-nilly, and taking control of more than a few vital community resources; I am more than inclined to take you into custody and keep you under supervision until you rot.” I take another step closer to him, entering his personal space.
“But looking at who these political figures are, I am also inclined to let you do what you want.” I stare into his eyes, making sure he is going to understand my next words.
“Give me one good goddamn reason to stop from me putting your face into this very nice cement floor.”
He takes a moment, registering the threat I just gave him.
Taking up my challenge, he steps closer looking into my eyes.
“I am on the side of the people. Those monsters are from being people.”
I laugh. I like this kid.
“Sufficient. Don’t do anything harsh. Remember, you’re still on my radar. And I know where you live. Ta”
And just like that, I blip out of the room. Back to my own centre of operations. A favourite trick of mine.
“Seems like someone is going to be inheriting my duties sooner or later” I say to the empty room.
|
The celestial being, Chad, was a worrisome character. Having started off as a lower angel, he continuously failed to meet standards. Few know that before the fall of man, higher beings had standards to maintain their status as an angel. Once accepted, it was no piece of cake.
Checking in on the evolution of the beasts was a daily task that no one liked. It wasn't simply a matter of walking the earth and smiling at the Tyrannosaur. It required getting dirty and digging through their dung to make sure that even the microscopic bacteria were getting their nutrients. Chad just simply refused.
"I ain't gonna play in that shit!" he said as his supervisor Michael brought him into the "Big Man's Office" as Chad liked to say. "I'm not the "big man", Michael always said. "Unfortunately, Chad. I'm going to have to demote you."
"Yo, bruh, that's toilet rizz!' Chad exclaimed.
"Lucifer is excited to work with you. He's very good at getting beings back on the Angel track."
Chad dragged his feet out of the office.
Centuries passed as Chad worked as a demon. Being a brat, one would think he'd enjoy it. Demon work is a lot less fun than people think.
Contrary to popular belief, demons don't terrorize people for enjoyment. They're only allowed to do so if approved of by Lord Lucifer for the person's self-growth. Did they learn self-love? Have they learned to forgive others? There was a lot of bureaucracy to filing a torture proposal.
Chad didn't like completing the necessary paperwork.
"Bruh, this job is big time cringe. Paperwork for torture?" He said as Overlord Belial in a one-on-one coaching session.
"That's part of the gig, Chad. You pay your dues. You move up, you get to randomly possess people and freak out their pastors. It's something to aspire to." But Chad wasn't that motivated.
Centuries passed with this back and forth. Chad was in and out of the gates of heaven, but also the gates of hell. No one knew what to do with him, but none of the archangels had the courage to bring it up to Jehovah. As a god, Jehovah was known for his short fuse. Once he got so mad, he let it rain for 40 days and 40 nights, killing almost everyone and not to mention the ones left on the boat were drenched. After that, no one liked bringing issues up to him.
Deep down, everyone liked Chad, he was just lazy. Gabriel once suggested bringing it to God himself, but then God rained fire and brimstone on the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, so the angels stayed silent.
Everyone knew Jehovah was about to have his very own human child. There was even a betting pool on how big of a baby it would be. Would it be a boy or a girl? No one really knew. The upcoming board meeting of archangels was to plan the entrance of this child.
The meeting began when Jehovah arrived. He strode into the room like he owned the place. All the archangels felt obligated to stand like a judge entering the courtroom. Michael trembled as the agenda was passed around. Jehovah cleared his throat and looked at Michael.
"Next item on the agenda is the celestial being known as Chad. Chad? Who is this Chad? Why have I never heard of this 'Chad'?
Michael nervously looked around the room. Gabriel averted his eyes. Raphael and the others? Silence. Archangel Michael was on his own.
"Yes, sir"
"Yes, what?!" An irritated look stroke Jehovah's face.
"Sorry, Yes, my Lord"
Jehovah's face relaxed as Michael continued.
"We don't know what to do with Chad. He's never completed any of the training programs and seems be, what's a good word, resistant to any of the instruction we give him," Michael explained.
Gabriel finally chimed in, "We would have brought him up before, but we thought we could handle it. One thing led to another, and this problem really snowballed into one heck of a problem, my Lord."
Jehovah pulled out a golden pair of glasses and put them on as if he needed them to see. "I see."
A long silence filled the room; you could feel the nervous breath of every being in the room.
"OH, Chad! My boy! I call him BCE, or BIG CHAD ENERGY"
A stunned look fell on every archangel in that meeting.
"Your boy?" Michael asked.
A childish giggle bubbled out of his eager smile. For once, a joyous Jehovah. A thing that the archangels had never seen.
"Yeah, Chad hits me up once a week or so. He showed me this plant I absolutely didn't realize I created. Turns out if you take the leaves of this plant, dry them out, roll them up. You can smoke them."
Everyone's chins dropped as the Lord explained the ins and outs of cannabis.
"Yeah, it's been a total gamechanger for me."
"But My Lord," Gabriel chimed in. "You've killed millions of people for even the slightest dietary offenses."
"Oh that?" Jehovah laughed. "Look, don't worry about Chad. In fact, let's get him a seat at this table, shall we? In fact, have him be my stand-in. I've got a kid coming, I'll be out-of-office for the next two thousand years or so."
From that day forward, Chad was the President of the Board of Archangels, or as he wished to be known as: "J-dogg's Stand-In."
|
SetiGone_Wrong
|
justnleeh
|
2025-03-28 15:27:08
|
2024-09-26 17:55:30
| 19 | 10 |
mk75x96
| null |
1jlhi6d
|
1fpviyc
|
[WP] the king has a large problem. The hero that was summoned thinks slavery is "a bad thing" and women "should have rights"
|
"Summon the hero!" The king bellows.
All the mages gathered around into a circle and started chanting. It only took a few seconds before the ground started glowing. Just as quickly as they started the ritual was over only leaving a young man unconscious on the floor.
"What's going on?" The young man asked groggily.
"You have been summoned to another world to be my champion, congratulations!"
"What? You can't be serious, I want to go home!"
"Nonsense, it's great here. Now my concubine slaves get the hero ready."
A group of malnourished chained woman ran towards the young man and started to measure him to prepare the sizing of his armor.
"Whoa! I don't feel comfortable with this!"
"It is a necessary thing to happen. Measurements are required for getting proper armor."
"It's not that, but the whole slave concubine thing."
"How could that make you uncomfortable? Everyone knows that all woman are subservient to men. It is the way of the land."
"That can't be right? That sounds super cruel."
"What? They love it."
"Do you like it here?" The hero asked one of the woman.
Just before she could answer she took a look back at the king, who gave her nothing but a glare. Turning towards the hero, she knew what her answer should be.
"Of course... Everything is great.." She said with a forced smile
"Yeah, I'm not buying it. I never considered myself a feminist but this is just ludicrous."
"If that is how you feel, I guess there is no choice. Guards have this man executed."
"Wait, What?!"
Before he could resist two soldiers appeared; grabbed the young man and left. The king slumped down on his throne sadly at the turn of events.
"I don't understand this is the fifth person we summoned that had to be executed. Are we the ones that are wrong?" The king asked himself.
Sitting for a few moments it did not take long for the king to reach his answer.
"No, it's these false heroes that are wrong. Mages, come together, summon the hero!" The king bellows
|
"Why should I fight for you? You keep slaves and women are forced into marriage! You sound like the bad guys to me!" the recently summoned Hero exclaims.
"Perhaps if you calm down, we could discuss the necessity of these things?" the King replied calmly.
"CALM DOWN!?? You are selling humans like they are THINGS! I want nothing to do with you!" The hero turns their back to the King and storms out. The King waves down the guard who were going to arrest the hero for this breach of protocol.
The King gestures to an attendant and whispers "Sounds like a job for the Princess."
\- - - - - -
The Princess found the Hero wandering the walls, having been denied exit at the gates.
"May I accompany you, Hero? I am 2nd Princess Bethany." Princess Bethany didn't look like the princesses the Hero imagined from the storybooks. Her brown hair was tied in a simple ponytail, and her dress was simple but clean.
"Would it matter if I said no? Apparently I'm a prisoner here." The Hero smiled bleakly.
"The King has requested that I help educate you on our culture before we let you interact with the common people to prevent misunderstandings. The Gardens have a nice spot to sit. Follow me. ...Please." The Princess waited until the Hero followed.
\- - - - - -
"Top of the list. You have a problem with slavery. So do I. So does the King himself. If we could stop slavery, we would."
"He's the fucking King, he could just make it against the law! Boom! No more slaves!" retorted the Hero.
"I'm afraid it's not as easy as that. Almost all of our slaves are criminals and Prisoners of War. If we freed them, what do you think they would do?" with a raise of her eyebrows.
"If they aren't safe to be released, why don't you put them in prison?" the Hero shrugged.
"That would indeed be one option. How would you suggest we feed them? 90% of our population is used in the production of food. For every prisoner we keep, 10 commoners would essentially be working for nothing. Our country would literally starve. Do you have a better suggestion?" Princess eyebrows were getting a workout here.
"I hadn't thought of that. I've got some ideas from my world on how to improve farming! If you have more food, then you could keep more prisoners! I could kick off the Industrial Revolution here!"
"Your ideas would be most welcome. How fast could this 'Revolution' be implemented?" the Princess asked earnestly.
"Umm, decades. You need to make tools to make the tools to make the tools. It's a whole pyramid thing." the Hero was starting to think that maybe he'd jumped the gun. But slavery was WRONG!
"That's fine. It's a long term goal. Do you have any suggestions for a short to medium term solution?" the damn eyebrows were back in action.
"Could you at least send the War Slaves back to their countries? Maybe for ransom?"
"We do. For the countries that we have peace treaties with. But a significant amount of war slaves refuse to return without being forced to. I hear it's because we treat our slaves better than they treat their serfs and ours can buy their freedom and their children are citizens. When you get out of here, you'll get to meet some of them." The Princess claps twice and orders some tea for them both.
"That's .... different to slavery back home. More like Roman." But slavery is WRONG! There's GOT to be a better way!
"Seems you have a lot to consider there. If you've got better ideas, we will listen. It's part of why we summon Heroes. Not all Heroes are fighters." The Princess sipped her tea.
|
brleise12
|
RandeKnight
|
2024-11-03 20:42:15
|
2024-11-03 20:40:02
| 228 | 89 |
lv8lko1
|
lv8l4r9
|
1giuwvt
|
1giuwvt
|
[WP] In an age where gaming is widespread, militaries all over the world swiftly (and successfully) adapt by drafting gamers and assigning them into units and roles based on mandatory tracking of their most played genre and overall gametime. You just got your draft letter.
|
*War is death*. I put the draft letter down. It was some mishmash about how they noted my 8,688 hours of time playing *Magic: The Gathering* and how they wanted me to join the Army's R&D department because I was "so focused on building decks that I'd surely come up with something new and creative." They were wrong. I'd spend every moment I could playing *Magic*. I certainly couldn't pass Basic in the shape I was in. Besides, they had no idea how addictive *Magic* was.
I needed a way to get out of the draft. I was good at finding ways to get out of things, like all those turns I'd hit Ugin the Spirit Dragon off of Aetherworks Marvel to save me from certain death. Yes, I needed a combo, a set of pieces that would send the military packing. The question was: what?
The letter said to report to Turnbull Headquarters on September 3rd, 2023 with the address and phone number below. There was no room for ambiguity about the location or date. I scanned more closely, looking for other potential flaws. The only thing I could come up with was the word "draft." In *Magic*, there was a format called booster draft - where eight people pass boosters around and then build a deck. The letter said to "report for the draft." What if I reported, but then acted like I expected a booster draft instead of a military draft? What would happen then?
With no better plan, that's what I planned to do when I showed up at the base. The moment I drove through the gates and up to a nondescript gray building with a sign that said "HQ" on it, I thought I was going to hate everything about the military. The whole place was devoid of any creative energy whatsoever, just a bunch of people following orders and doing everything in a structured way. Ugh.
Inside, three men in uniforms stood at a table, processing a line of registrants. As each person was processed, they were handed a bag and an assignment. Most of them were "Infantry, Platoon BX1" or "Armored, Division 5". I started feeling shaky and pulled the letter out to console myself that they wouldn't try to put me in the infantry, and that they really had a special R&D unit.
When I reached the desk and handed them the draft letter, they looked shocked. They told me they couldn't process me at this desk and to wait for someone to get me. Everybody in the line gave me a side-eye as I stepped aside. Minutes felt like hours while I saw everybody else get registered. Finally, another man wearing plain clothes came into the room from a side entrance. He introduced himself as Corporal Randall and said to follow him. I thought about giving him the spiel about the booster draft but decided to wait.
We went deep into the building before going through a door that said R&D at the top. The Corporal smiled at me as we walked through the entrance. I expected a registration table like the one upstairs, except for people like me. What I didn't expect were five uniformed service members playing *Magic* at what looked like an old kitchen table. It looked like a game of Commander with a complicated board.
"Not what you expected?" the Corporal asked.
"Ahh, no...?"
"We play a fair number of games here in R&D. Magic is pretty popular."
Feeling at ease at once, I told the Corporal what I was going to say about the draft letter. He told me that they do a booster draft once a week and that they'd be pleased to have me join.
That's how my plan was foiled, in a good way I guess. I still hate war, but I get to work on projects dedicated to saving lives instead of killing them in my department, so I guess it's alright. I even got special permission to take an easier Basic training.
I was right about one thing though - I do still spend most of my time playing *Magic.*
r/StoriesToThinkAbout
|
I woke up around 3pm. I logged onto STiM and saw a weird message. The military was telling me they had sent me a paper copy they wanted me to read. My first thought was spam but the botware usually caught those. I checked and sure enough there was an envelope I had left on a pile a few days ago. Official markings and everything. I was being assigned to a logistics unit.
I texted Zam, we vidcalled and agreed to go out. I left around 7, went towards the mall. We met at the station, got a juice, we talked some more. We agreed it was totally boring but it could have been worse. Logistics was one of the least disciplined. We both knew a handful of players who had already been scripted, some of them had been on Zam's speed-running team, they'd gone to A2A operations. Last he heard was they were being moved to a bunker somewhere.
I knew Zam had already dropped out of Leegz, he had been tutoring for a few months by that point. He was keeping his head low, but he was still angsty, said it was probably just a matter of time, same as for me. I had never been in Leegz, never even got so much attention beyond the mapcrafting on KoW. Obviously there were algorithms involved. We knew some anon guys who wrote cloaking but they got sussed out, all doing time now. The chats were full of stories from all over, some very tinfoily stuff, but also real stuff. Some people were totally for it, especially redpilled and the schiz/acc posters. Normies often were pro too.
Zam convinced me to come along to a bar, he insisted on buying me a drink. He was trying to put on a good face for me I guess. Maybe he was just trying to hide his own fears by being uppy. We went and it was a cyberpunk themed place on the side of the Rockstar building. After 2 we actually loosed up a bit. Zam knew some other guys there. We started dancing. After a while I got out to the balcony for some air. One of the guys came with me, that was Ball. We talked for a bit, vaped some nic and kush.
Ball told me about his brother, he was in Infops, getting drilled for months now. He said it was like hell, what it sounded like from the PMs anyway. Daily physical routines, steroid bulking, raising pain thresholds, extended shock treatments. The bosses didn't know what they were doing half the time. These corps had just pushed new tech on them and said to go buck wild. No one could say no. There were 'pain boxes' and deprivation tanks, neuro-linked horror loops. If anyone tried to push back they just ran them through these punishments. It was that or defaulting. He made it sound like they could just reprogram the scripts, like they were faulty drives. Ball's brother said some of his unit had defaulted in the first week and he was thinking about it. Ball talked him out of it. Whatever they did in there, defaulting would be worse. Maybe less painful but much, much longer.
That night was a good night. Ball was playing with my hand so I went back with him to his unit. We laid on his bed and talked some more. He asked me 'Did you ever think it would be like this, the future I mean?' I said no, in the pandemic time I just kept dreaming about green, about exploring forests and mountains and living free in the biosphere. I never thought the enclosures would happen but I don't think anyone did. I just got used to the STiM-worlds. 'What was the first one?' he asked. I think it was Leafia, when I was 12, I started playing around the same time I got my first period. Before that it was just platformers but it was never so important then.
He told me he was going to escape. I said how? He talked some tinfoily stuff, I wasn't sure if he was serious. Maybe he was just dreaming on kush. He said there was a community that used tech only for the basics, they were totally offline, they had ghosted, faked IDs, faked coin. They had defaulted too. I asked why his brother couldn't go with him. 'As long as he's inside I can't leave, it would be too risky. I want him to come but they've got him registered - they'd make him do time. If he defaulted now he'd be locked out'. I asked him how they did it, this community. He said he couldn't tell me, he didn't know completely either. He just said they were out there, he was sure of it and he didn't want to stay here. He called it Zombieland.
I asked if he thought there was gonna be a war. He said there already was, we just didn't hear about it. I could feel his hand squeeze mine a little harder when he said it like he was angry. The corps would keep finding ways to spend their rivals stocks and keep each other in check. It was a kind of balancing act. That's what I would be part of, counting ammo rounds, getting them to the right places, feeding the production lines, and getting new lines set up when our side raided resource hubs. The next few years were pretty crazy for me. I guess it changed me. I still think about Ball every now and then, I never heard from him after that night.
I think about Zam too. He suicided a week after that night. I was angry at first but I learned to forgive him. It took a while. I'm gonna go the spot where he left off tomorrow and leave this print out for him. I'll never forget you Zam, I love you always.
Cell.
|
armageddon_20xx
|
hikiko_wobbly
|
2023-05-28 03:03:30
|
2023-05-28 01:19:59
| 95 | 17 |
jlwey31
|
jlw2skq
|
13tl9h1
|
13tl9h1
|
[WP] You have been a mountaintop prophet for 1,000 years. Each person only gets one question and you're sure you've heard every question that can be asked. Until one day someone uses their one question to ask, "How are you doing?"
|
Sitting atop the tallest peak of the world, my body grew from the mist, and sunlight I was showered in.
I felt no tiredness, no sleepiness, and time forgot me.
For thousands of years, I sat up here, answering one and only one question for those who managed to climb the mountain.
Today was another good day.
The weather was kind to me, and a gentle breeze reminded me of my youthful memories.
It was then when a young'un reached me.
"Hello.", I greeted her.
"Sup.", she waved with a smile.
"Tell me your question child, and I shall answer it.", I said.
"How are you doing?", she asked.
Well, that's one question I have never heard before.
Shaking my head, I smiled.
Youth...recklessness and bravery abound.
"I am fine, thank you for asking.", I said.
"You really are going to answer just one question.", she stated.
Smart lass.
"Indeed, knowledge is power, but too much of it can be just as much of a burden, as it can be a blessing.", I said.
"Cryptic stuff, just say that you don't want to answer more, 'cuz then bigshots would sit here all day to ask thousands of questions on how to become immortal, or really rich, or how to build an empire.", she snorted.
I laughed.
"Interesting perspective, but it might be due to my powers I only answer one question per person.
Now, it might be time for you to leave, as others might arrive.", I said.
She just smirked.
"Don't worry, there isn't anyone coming anytime soon.", she said.
I smiled.
"Why, Your Majesty?
Because you blocked the entire mountain range with your army?", I asked.
"So you really know everything, huh?", she asked.,
"That's another question already, young one.", I smiled.
She just snorted.
Staring at me for a while, she shrugged.
"Well, I'll be back tomorrow, and the next day, and the next.", she said, leaving.
"And I will be here, but will answer no question of yours, be it from you or being asked through someone else, since I already answered once.", I smiled.
"We shall see.", she said, leaving.
I just sat here, taking in the sight, as I always do.
This isn't the first nor the last time someone wants to take monopoly of myself...
In the end, my old friend Time shall take care of them, as it always happens.
|
"With you?" Death was confused for a moment.
"Son, I know you are very ill, but I normally play games AGAINST my ..." he thought for a moment, "*friends*, whom I lead to the next life, than with them."
Life was cruel and to this boy in front of him, it had been exceptionally so. Cancer beaten 3 times, only to have caught a simple virus that killed his liver. Because of previous illnesses, he wasn't a candidate for transplant, if they found a donor in time.
Death knew they wouldn't. He heard the uneasy snores from the parents in the bedroom across the hall. He was a little bummed they wouldn't get to say goodbye as the boy passed, but sometimes, it was easier to find someone who passed peacefully in the night, as would this boy, Kenny.
"Look, I've never beaten the game, I just need some help. Can you help me beat the game, together I know we could, then.... Well, I know who you are. If Mom and Dad came in, they wouldn't even *see* you, would they?"
"No, they would not. How do we play this game?"
"Well, we start off, well, I had already started a world, so we have a bit of a head start,"
"Good, we don't have a lot of time here." Death interjected.
"So, I have my Mom's laptop. I was trying to teach her and she didn't get it, but she tried. So you can play her character."
Over the next few minutes, Death learned how to maneuver, mine and well, craft items. Kenny and Death worked in mostly silence, with occasional comments from Kenny regarding things to get, or how to craft certain items. Occasionally, he would ask a real question of Death.
"How will you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Kill me?" Kenny, seemed to tremble at the words being said.
"Oh, dear boy, I am not the one killing you. You are dying because your liver is failing. I am here, not to *kill* you, but to take you on to your next destination, your soul, that is."
"What about the giant blade you use I see in all the pictures?"
"Ha, look out for that creeper, well, I have been pictured as many things over the years. So, yeah, that scythe is one thing people associate with me, but mostly, I take my charges by the hand or with a gentle arm on the back, and we walk into the next world together." Kenny seemed satisfied with that answer. "Are you warm enough?"
"yeah, I'm kind of feeling hot now. I know that's probably from the liver thing. Okay, the next room we go in, that's where we have the final battle. Are you ready?"
"Are you?" Kenny knew what this meant, and for a moment he had a scared look in his eyes. Death put his hand on his back and said gently patted him. "Let's make this a little more, fun. I believe you deserve a little more fun this last time."
With that, they were not staring at computers but in the world of Minecraft. Ready to defeat the Heart of Ender. Kenny gasped at first, and then said excitedly, "Let's Go!"
It was an amazing battle between the two *heroes* and the final boss. When it was done they were back in Kenny's room. Kenny was exhausted and voluntarily went into his bed.
"This is where Mom and Dad will find me?"
"Yes. it's time, you know."
"I know. What happens next?"
"Well," Death said to Kenny's spirit now standing next to him still in front of the computer, "Now we go. I have enjoyed playing this game *with* you. Would other children play this game too?"
"I'm sure, I know grown-ups who play it."
"Interesting. Take my hand, it's time."
​
The next morning, Kenny's mother came in to find him so peacefully on the bed. She sat silently next to him amazed at how he just looked asleep instead of passed. As she turned to look at the computers, she could tell that he had finally beaten the game. She then noticed that logged into her Minecraft account was '*Death*'.
"Thank you, wherever you are."
|
TheWanderingBook
|
Snowdog1967
|
2024-08-25 04:31:54
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2023-02-26 22:13:44
| 30 | 15 |
mwc1e5b
|
ja528aa
|
1l4v1b5
|
11c95gs
|
[WP] "What is your first decree as king?" "My generals and advisors are all banished to the Northern Wastes." "Wh-What?" "My father's empire was a ruthless, evil rule that destroyed the lives of his subjects. All those in leadership are banished. If you return, you will be killed."
|
Despite the throne room's soundproofing, the noise outside was growing louder.
"To clarify, sir - you had *all* of your generals and advisors banished to the Northern Wastes? Everyone who was in leadership?"
King Hardin nodded solemnly. "My father's empire was evil. He was a ruthless leader, and so were his generals and advisors. They destroyed the lives of their subjects."
The wizened advisor sighed. It'd only been an hour since he'd returned from his long journey abroad; he'd missed Hardin's coronation. He'd always been fond of the boy. He'd always had a good heart. Not always the sharpest mind, though.
"Not that I disagree with your views on your father's empire, sir," he began, voicing aloud a sentiment he'd privately held for years, "-but did you really believe this was the best way to go about it?"
"What do you mean?" Hardin blinked slowly. Even now, he'd not pieced it together.
"You've only just taken the throne. Your foothold is not secure. And you have just simultaneously made an enemy of every single powerful man and woman in your own kingdom - enemies who have powerful connections and influence of their own, and who have soldiers who are loyal to them. Soldiers who have questionable morals - because as you've so rightly pointed out, sir, those soldiers did horrible things under the command of those very same generals and leaders."
Hardin grew very quiet. "So that noise outside... it's not really that the people are throwing an impromptu gathering to honor me."
The old man standing in front of him sighed. "No, sir. The generals and advisors you banished decided to ignore your decree, gather their forces, and stage a coup. They're storming the palace now - your palace guard won't hold out for much longer. It'd have been different if you banished just a few of the generals or advisors. The others may not have spoken up, as you would have strengthened their own relative position. Or if you'd simply gathered them in a room together and had your palace guard execute them all without warning. But you banished them instead - making enemies of every last one - without having the fortitude to eliminate them as threats for good. What were you expecting when you banished every single person with soldiers or political influence or great wealth?"
King Hardin pursed his lips. "Those other paths seemed... sneaky. Dishonest. Manipulative."
"You are a king, sir, and politics are never clean. Not if you want to accomplish anything. Even if you have good intentions, you will need underhanded tactics in order to beat those with underhanded tactics."
"...So what do we do now?"
Just then, the doors to the throne room burst open. Twelve of the empire's most powerful generals, advisors, and crooked noblemen stepped into the room, flanked by hundreds of their loyal soldiers and house guards.
"Kill them!" The general at the front of the pack called.
King Hardin drew his sword. He'd had the best sword instructors on the continent, and he was quite a blademaster in his own right. He stepped forward boldly to meet the enemy, shielding his old advisor - and his first tutor - with his own body the way a true hero would. "I am King here," he said, "regardless of your insurrection, and you have all been banished. I warned you if you returned you would be killed. Now, face me in combat. Meet the fate I promised you."
The corrupt official at the front of the mob made a show of thinking about it. "I'd rather not," he said. "Everyone, shoot him."
Dozens of arrows filled the air instantly. King Hardin and his advisor died before they hit the ground, their bodies turned into human pincushions from every possible angle.
As the general moved to take the throne for himself, the coup immediately dissolved into infighting amongst the various factions. Now that their common enemy was dead, they no longer had any reason to band together.
Not that that mattered for the former King.
His reign had lasted just about six days.
|
His last breath left him, his eyes froze, his hands went limp, and the pain in his face disappeared. The King died. The son inherited the throne by tradition. *By divine right* some believe, *by the will of the spirits, and the power of fate*.
Everyone heard the priest hesitate, then speak the expected recitation, "Carry on the will of your ancestors, may their *wisdom* find home in your care, from this day forward, Prince of the Dying Sun no more, but King Upon the Throne of a Thousand Suns," it began. "What is your first decree, my King?"
The prince smiled. He dropped his father's hand the moment the question was uttered. He knew what he wanted; he wanted the throne; he wanted those who would seek to kill him gone; he wanted the end of wars. And the priests knew this.
"My generals and advisors..." Neither were his; they were his fathers. "are all banished to the Northern Wastes."
"Wh-what?" The priest asked, his eyes darting to the men dressed in ceremonial armor and the robed advisors that stood in the chamber. The most senior of the old King's cabinet, his highly regarded and respected advisor, Lorimar, held the blue candle, the King's candle, and he snuffed it out. As he was about to light the next candle, he stopped and took stock of the room. The prince did not see the lapse in ceremony, nor would he have understood.
"My father's empire was a ruthless, evil rule that destroyed the lives of his subjects. All those in leadership are banished." The young prince turned to address the room and meet the eyes of everyone present. "If you return, you will be killed."
Lorimar set the two unlit candles down at the foot of the old King. The generals stared back at the prince. Only the priest stirred, stepping toward the door, itching to leave the room, his eyes darting between the weathered faces of the Generals and the cool, calm gaze of the old King's advisors.
"Do you think it's that simple?" General Kieve asked. His voice the sound of smooth gravel and the bite of a whip. The other generals shifted but did not move.
"Do you defy me, General Kieve?"
"I'll answer your question with a question, young Prince," He said.
"Ki-"
"Who sacrificed for the throne? Who bled on the fields of battle? Who left their homes at your father's command to extend your land and build your inheritance? Don't *we* then deserve the right to say who holds the right to rule?"
"I-"
"I'll answer for you. Not you."
"I-"
"Seems you have learned nothing from the priests or your tutors. They should be the ones banished, to die in the waste, defenseless and useless. They have failed this King," He gestured to the dead man. "They haven't taught you how the kingdom survives, how the borders are maintained, and from whom the throne derives its power."
"Guards! Guards!" The would-be King screamed.
The door slammed open, and four spearmen jumped over the threshold. They fell as quickly as the prince's head departed his shoulders. Lorimar flicked his blade and sent the blood pooling along its edge to the floor, and in the same movement, sheathed his sword. It looked like a solute to the old King, rehearsed throughout his years.
-----
The spirits gathered at the base of the mountain furthest west, in the lands once held by the dead King, in the purple light of sunset. The ashes of ten thousand elder trees sat in a pit as deep as any in-land lake. Here, the spirits gathered in the days before the King's imminent death. The giant red birds of the sun flew in just as the last rays of sunset touched the lake of ashes.
They did not speak as humans speak. They did not quarrel the way humans quarreled. The land meant little to them; the spirits cherished the skies, drank the sun, and ate the moon's shine.
In this place, they made a pact with the humans of the Sun Throne. A pact not broken in a thousand years. One the spirits were happy to keep. They saw the coming death of the King as a sign. The bloodline would be cut. They jostled amongst themselves the moment before they felt it happen, the tension making them anxious as they awaited the cutting of the bloodline. Then it happened, the end of the line, and they squawked and chirped in unison. And danced. And flung themselves in the air and swooped to the ground and back up again.
They did this until the sun finally set in the west, the last glimmers of light ran from deep purple to deep black, and the stars in the east began to glow. At that moment, they all stopped and waited as still as stones. Without the sun's light, they each looked like gems carved into the shape of birds. The ones that fed off sunlight still glowed, and the ones that lived off the moon's shine turned obsidian.
If the words of the pact had a translation, it might be this: No one worthy of a new sky is ever born in the plane of their conception. A new bond must be made essential if we of spirit and those of flesh are to survive and move to a higher level.
In the center of the ashes, a puddle began to glow, at first red, then orange, then a blinding white. And from the ashes, a bar of light as thick as the trunk of the most giant tree erupted and shot into the sky, connecting the earth to the stars.
So, a new pact was made. The old pact was pushed aside and left behind on the old plane, a solution to surviving the last thousand years but a certain doom for the next thousand.
To whom will the pact be offered? That is what each spirit asked in one unified cry but in each spirit's language and ways.
|
TheFirstMillionWords
|
lucid-quiet
|
2024-10-02 00:10:22
|
2024-10-01 21:46:01
| 41 | 13 |
lpwdtci
|
lpvpuns
|
1ftt6rc
|
1ftt6rc
|
[WP] It’s been a long relationship but the partnership ends here. Your girlfriend is too bossy, lazy, and uncompromising. You’re not sure how to go about breaking up with a Dark Goddess though.
|
Tendrils of smoke slithered over the carpet where one of her feet was resting. Her other leg was crossed over the first, her hands resting on the elevated knee. An aura of purple darkness wisped from her form, sapping the light from the room, making her the focal point of all things.
"I want you to know that these last few years have been really great," I grinned a lipless--if terse--smile.
"Yes," she agreed, her expression fixed in quiet, curious judgement.
"And I think that you are so many wonderful things."
Her glowing, purple eyes were impassive, waiting for me to get to the point.
"But I think our paths are diverging. I'm holding you back. And this relationship is holding me back in so many ways as well." The words had been feverishly rehearsed for the past week. My bedroom's waste bin was piled high with discarded drafts of my breakup speech.
She uncrossed her legs, planting both feet on the floor. Her foreboding form leaned forward, hands on her knees and frown tugging at the bottom of her cheeks.
She opened her mouth, revealing rows of razor sharp demon teeth. "You don't love me anymore?"
"Eris, it's not that," I assured her, keeping my voice soft and slow, the way WikiHow said I should.
"No. You hate me!" Her lips trembled and tears collected in her ethereal eyes.
"I don't hate you!" I protested. "I just don't think we're good for each other anymore."
"I can be more fun," she rushed to the words. "I can go out more. I can dress up more. What am I doing wrong? I can fix it!"
"I don't want you to fix yourself. You're not broken!"
"Then why are you leaving?"
The guilt felt like a punch in the chest. Eris, this goddess of discord, had been so misunderstood, so victimized by prejudice and derision. And here I was, her longest serious partner, breaking up with her.
"Because," I sighed, "I'm not ready to settle down. I can't give you what you need."
"I only need you," she wept the words, each syllable a stone against my heart.
"That's the problem," I took her ice cold hand in mine, "I'm not supposed to be everything to you. Nor you to me."
"I can change that. I can be less clingy. Just stay. *Please, stay!"*
I tried to take my hand back, but she held on to it tightly. "Eris..."
"John. Don't leave me. I can be better. I promise." Her leg was tapping nervously, and although her skin was sickly white with long blue veins travelling through her hands and face, she seemed somehow paler.
"I...I don't want to hurt you..."
"Then don't!" She barked in a sad laugh that spilled a tear from her eye. "Stay! I'll do whatever you want--*be* whoever you want!"
I felt her creep closer, her hands travelling up my arm, the black mist wrapping around my legs, pulling me into her.
"I want to make you happy," she whispered. Her hand let go of mine, but landed in my lap. "Let me do that for you."
Suddenly, her lips locked with mine, her tongue forcing its way into my mouth. My thoughts became soft and warm despite the frigid skin that pressed against my face.
Several hours later, she was fast asleep, her arm wrapped around my chest.
My phone pinged. It was Aphrodite. *Did you do it yet*?
|
"How about if I - no, that won't do. Wait, what about - no, that isn't gonna work, either..." why were break up's so difficult? Why weren't there hallmark cards for break up's?
'Roses are red, violets are blue, we're not very compatible so I'm leaving you'
That quick little line made me chuckle, only for me to start panicking once more as I walked down the sidewalk toward our shared apartment. I couldn't help but worry about how she'd react. As a frequent peruser of reddit, I had read many tales of break up's going bad - the ex becoming a stalker, and causing damage to the person's self, mentality, career, reputation, or their property. Sometimes a combination of it all!
It hadn't always been a difficult relationship. In the beginning, we had fun. She revealed to me a world I never knew existed. Before her, if someone had told me about such wonders, I would have called them insane! But with her, it was another reality! Those first few years were amazing. Of course, as any couple does, we had our little disagreements here and there, but we worked through them! And I thought it only strengthened our relationship. But, I guess I'm the only one who thought that, because at around the fourth year, things changed. And not for the better, I might add.
At first, it was just refusal to do small tasks. No big deal, they were simple enough that I could take care of them right away with no real impact to anything else. But it began to escalate. It got to the point where, when I left in the morning, she would be in the living room, staring intently at the television. I would say bye, and I would either get a simple wave, or the ever-so-loving "don't bother me right now". How loving, don't you think? When I would come back after being gone all day, can you guess where she would be? Yep! Still in front of that damn television! Some night, I dreamt of smashing that blasted thing, but that would never end well for me.
Her laziness reared it's ugly head after about a week, when plates and dishes just began to pile up around her, along with take out containers, open and half drunk beverages. There was a small mound of garbage NEXT to the garbage can, which was full to the brim as well! Laundry was piled up in front of the washer, and any load that had been put in the washer was still in there, not being put in the dryer. I was happy we didn't have any pets.
That began to lead her to become demanding and bossy. "The apartment is dirty. Clean it before our guests arrive this evening." Or, "Why haven't you done the laundry, yet?" Then there was my personal favourite, "I do all the work around here, the least you can do is cook me a meal every once in a while." I nearly snapped at that one. Saw the grim reaper, so I decided to bite the bullet, after all I do like living.
I tried having a sit down with her, tried coming to a compromise, but to no avail. Is it that difficult to agree to vacuum and dust the apartment twice a week, as well as just pick up after yourself? I offered to do dishes, cook, clean, and do laundry the whole week - that is, five days - if she just did those. The other two days of the week were shared days. We'd each take care of certain responsibilities, but help the other if they needed it. Not difficult, right? Wrong! She refused. Refused! Why?! I had it all worked out! It was the most beneficial schedule to her! I would be - nope, not going on a tangent on that.
I looked up, realizing that I could see my apartment just down the street. Each step feeling heavier and heavier as I drew closer and closer. My chest tightened, and little beads of sweat appeared on my forehead. I walked up the four steps that lead to the entrance. I took a deep breath, buzzed myself in, and steeled my resolve. No matter what happens afterward, this needed to be done.
Stepping into our apartment, I went to the couch and grabbed the remote. Pointing it to the television, I pressed the off button. As soon as it went black, she screamed. The temperature in the place dropped, and she slowly began to levitate, her raven black hair slowly floating around her face. She turned to face me, her pure obsidian eyes boring into me like daggers. I could sense her aura, and the anger she exuded. It was strong enough that the windows were slightly rattling. But I guess when she looked at my face, or read my aura, or whatever it is God's do, she could sense something wasn't right, because that intense feeling of hatred dulled a bit, and she moved to stand before me, instead of levitate.
Once again, I took a breath, steadied my heart, and calmly looked at her.
"We need to talk."
|
Protowriter469
|
Written_Wordsmith
|
2023-03-25 21:37:11
|
2023-03-25 21:31:10
| 25 | 13 |
jdo51ue
|
jdo49hk
|
121qmaj
|
121qmaj
|
[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.
|
My kidnappers had been foolish to think I would be an easy target just because I had no immediate family and lived alone. They thought they had covered their trail very well when the small television in my room kept droning on about the news of my disappearance and the struggles of the police authorities to find me.
They didn't count on my boyfriend doing what the police could not do.
Vengeance had been swift once he realized where I was kept. He rarely made appearances in the waking world of mortals, preferring to meet me in my dreams tethered by his brother.
I peered outside the tiny window of my cell, gripping the bars, watching their quiet deaths unfold.
Dark portals pooled around the corridor, chains of steel emerging to pull my captors into the underworld. They barely had time to react or scream as the first chain that came for them typically clapped around their mouths to silence their voices. There was no running, no fleeing from death when it came.
He didn't like being outwitted, cheated, or robbed of things that belonged to him. With a heart of cold steel, and a spirit as pitiless as the relentless night, anyone he seizes with the chains, he holds them fast and tight in his iron grip, and even the handful who managed to escape are always caught and later punished for eternity.
None of my captors got away. All of them vanished from this earth and I doubt they will be missed.
My beloved wrapped his chains around the bars of the door that stood between me and him. With a single pull, they fell apart and I ran to hug him. His wings embraced me as his black robes flapped dramatically from a wind streaming out from his domain.
"You're alive. I apologize for the delay, there was much work to do in my realm."
I reassured him I was fine, even as I was shaking from head to toe. There were many things that frightened me; torture, the sound of thunder, clowns, enclosed spaces...but I wasn't scared of dying.
How could I, when I was dating Thanatos and good friends with his brother Hypnos?
|
Aphrodite is perfect in form, without blemish. Every detail of her aesthetic is locked into place, seemingly without error. I am hers.
I met her on Craigslist. She put out an ad in the personals saying she was running a dating school. Having struggled with that, I signed up. I was surprised when the first class met and I was the only one there. She instructed me anyways, giving me innumerable tips to improve my appearance, confidence, presentation, and communication skills. As the classes went on, it became clearer that she wanted me to want her. She asked me what I wanted in a person, and I said I wanted one as beautiful as she was. She seemed pleased with this, and afterward, she told me that she wanted me to go on a date with her.
During our first date, I asked her where the name Aphrodite came from, and she told me that she was the Greek Goddess Aphrodite. I almost spit out my pasta, before recalling that would be the type of bad etiquette that she abhorred. I just smiled, and asked, "How?" She told me that she'd always existed, since the dawn of time, and that only a lucky few ever got to meet her. I asked her why she didn't already have a date or a significant other, and she said she had many throughout history but was currently single. I couldn't help but say that this seemed suspicious, a dating school instructor being single, but she just smiled and told me to feel grateful for being lucky.
We went on a few dates. On the last one, she kissed me. It was the most perfectly blissful thing I'd ever experienced. I started to dread right away that I'd lose her. She was Aphrodite, and she could have whomever she wanted. I was rather plain and boring, why would she want me?
I didn't have long to fret over this, for the day after the kiss I was ambushed by five men dressed in black. I thought I had done something wrong. I tried to think of all the reasons why they would kidnap me. I plead my innocence and screamed that I knew Aphrodite and that she had special powers. They put a bag over my head and forced me into what felt like a van. We drove forever, then flew, and when I got off the plane I could feel desert heat and sand. In tears, I prayed for Aphrodite, my beloved, to save me.
The men took me down into a chamber, where they took the bag off my head. I was surprised to see many other people there, heads bowed. I was even more surprised to see Aphrodite, standing up on a stage. I tried to scream for her, but the men kicked and slapped me until I kept quiet.
I felt pain at having been tricked, and agony at seeing my lover ignore me, but I understand now. She spoke on the stage, telling us that this was the final step of dating school. We all wanted her, and to have her, we must prove above all else that we have mastered the techniques taught in the class. With time, she said, our appearance, presentation, and communication skills could be *better*. Only the one with the *best* skills would have her hand.
It seemed absurd, stupid. There were dozens of other people. I stood no chance against them, surely some were better than me. I told her that during my first 1-1 on with her, and she told me that was the very thinking that had led me to dating school in the first place. I hadn't talked to people with the assumption that I wasn't good enough for them, but in reality, nobody was better than anyone else. I had to assume that I was the best, and then I would act like it. Only then would I stand a chance.
She was absolutely right. Sometimes I doubt, but she always corrects me.
In glory to Aphrodite, may your hand be mine.
r/StoriesToThinkAbout
|
Tregonial
|
armageddon_20xx
|
2023-05-20 16:03:27
|
2023-05-20 15:08:37
| 165 | 60 |
jkx10ep
|
jkwt2qz
|
13mpraz
|
13mpraz
|
[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!”
|
I am ashamed to admit that, in that moment, there were several dagger edged declarations I had to bite down on before I unleashed them on my own child.
*Because you are inexperienced, stupid, and obsessed with pleasing peers who will break your heart like a twig and laugh about it.*
Breathe...
*Thousands? Try one-thousand, dear, at best, or did you forget who your father was?*
Calm...
*Not if you keep talking to people like that, you won't.*
Okay, I might use that one later when I'm not mad.
I am not ashamed that it hurt so much. I loved this child and, for the record, still do. She didn't have to be part elf to wound me so - such is the history of teenagers, or elven fifty-somethings and half-elven twenty-somethings it turns out. Adolescents are smart enough and witty enough to whip up devastating things to say to their parents and siblings, and they have the lack of good judgement and empathy to actually unleash them. I had been particularly swift and damning with my words when I was equivalent to her age and she was absolutely my daughter.
It had been hard to swallow my harsh words as a teenager, but now? Caging the beast gave me a sense of power. I could control myself. She couldn't yet and it was my job to help her fix that.
I looked at the girl I had made with the love of my life. While her complexion was a soft brown mix of her mother's mahogany skin and my pale, she had the stark white hair that dominated forest elf lineages. Her irises, though, were green like mine, as were the boxier lines of her eyes themselves.
"Because it is hardly a novel view among elves or half-elves, and someone as intelligent as my daughter should not fall for something so destructive."
She rolled her eyes in response, but said nothing.
"I get it. Nothing I say to you right now is going to get you to say, 'you're right, dad. I'm sorry for being a bigot to my own father', because you have to be right - especially when you're wrong."
"What the hell does that even mean?"
"It means that I've been a cocky little shit before, too, so I know what you're feeling." I raised my hand in a stop gesture as she opened her mouth to respond, "Not done. You're partly right. I will die even before your mom's culture will accept you as an adult, but you'll be grown up long before her people will acknowledge it."
"My people, dad. They're my people, too, and they'll understand."
I closed my eyes and, for the benefit of my child, picked at the metaphysical stitches of a wound I had never truly healed. "Do you think you're the first half-elf I've known, Leah?"
She caught my eyes before looking away.
"I had a friend, a guy named Talil, who used to work with me when I hunted monsters. Talil was a half-elf kind of like you. His dad was a nexus elf, actually, so he took to magic more easily than anyone I'd ever met - not that any of that was ever good enough for the nexus elves. Every triumph he made was either belittled as beneath his father's people or leveraged to prove what a shame it was that such a heroic spirit was spoiled by his mongrel half."
"That isn't fair."
"Of course it isn't. I tried to tell Talil that, and he said he got it, but he never did. I saw it; we all did. He kept taking more and more dangerous work to prove himself. It got one of our buddies killed and I... Well, I let him know what I thought of his complex. I split from the group and the other guys followed him. He was an extremely powerful wizard at that point, after all. I was lucky enough to meet your mother while taking on more reasonable work, but Talil..."
I breathed and fought against my traitorous throat. "His endless fight for approval killed him, and he took three more of my good friends with him."
"What happened?"
"The dumb fuck tried to kill an elder dragon. It wasn't even near a settlement and was due to sleep another half-century, but hunting had stopped being about safety for him a long time ago. He was going to slay a powerful dragon just like Nymior the legend, just to prove himself to a bunch of ungrateful assholes - and you know what? He killed the damned thing. He did it. I only got to know because my pal Tathmor survived the shit show and paid to haul all the bodies back with the horde. There were legions of monster hunters and half the local village at his funeral. Do you know how many elves attended, Leah?"
She glowered at me.
"Four. Two were monster hunters seeing off a fellow, good women who had learned to respect the shorter-lived sapients. Your mother, because she didn't want me to be alone, and finally his father. It probably dawned on him at some point that he would bury his son, but by his sobs I knew he hadn't expected it to happen so soon. His mother was there, too, wrinkled, tired, and crying all the same. She had bought into the promise that this couldn't conceivably happen, and yet her son's desperation for approval from people who would never have cared doomed her to outlive him."
I sighed and tried not to imagine myself in that elf's place. "Sweetheart, I will always be proud of you. I need you to know that. Even when you hurt me with your words, even when you make stupid mistakes and get into trouble, my love is not gated behind impossible tasks and reckless glory. I love you, and I want you to be happy, successful, and - as much as reasonable - safe. When you become a legend, I want you to survive the process. I'll be watching, even if it's from the heavens."
And should I have to bury my child because someone got it into her head she needed to please a gaggle of nigh-immortal bigots... Well, I had made a career of slaying monsters before.
I could do it again.
(Quick edit: turned internal dialogue into italics for clarity.
Edit 2: word choice.)
|
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."
|
MasterV3ga
|
DoomGloomAngst
|
2024-08-14 17:14:22
|
2023-02-27 05:51:50
| 161 | 46 | null | null |
1es40qy
|
11ctaxn
|
[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.
|
“Durva aunty! Tarun is fighting with the boys and isn’t giving the ball,” said one of the three little kids who had come to call Durva.
“What!” Durva was stirring dal in a large cauldron in the common kitchen where many other men and women performed their duties. She dropped the long stirrer and knowing that someone would take over her work, she ran. “Where is he?”
“The ground!” The kids shouted in unison behind her.
*No! Not Tarun. I don’t know how long he has held onto the ball. I hope to God he doesn’t think it belongs to him!*
Durva ran through the street flanked by houses. The gates always were open, many gates were removed decades ago.
“Nothing is yours! Everything is ours!” A voice called out from some distant speakers, the same voice that called over and over again every two hours.
She ran past a large poster painted carefully in red with the same slogan.
Some people squatted in groups of four or five and played something. Others were returning from their farming duties at the common farms outside their community. Two men carried back a hog on a long stick. As Durva ran past them, some hushed among themselves, some shook their heads and others never noticed her.
Durva panted as she reached the ground. Her eyes darted around to find Tarun and quickly spotted a group of kids sitting idly under a tree. Tarun was kicking the ball on a wall some distance away in the sun.
*Oh my God!* Durva sprinted and called, “Tarun!”
Tarun was barely two feet tall with bony limbs. A grey shirt and faint red shorts hung on his torso. He stopped playing as he heard his mother.
Durva ran and saw his expression change from confusion to terror as she reached up to him. Before she could realise it, she smacked Tarun hard across the face. He fell on the ground and Durva quickly picked up the ball and threw it towards the sitting children. They didn’t move from their places as they stared at her mother-son duo.
Durva could not lose Tarun to The Curse of Possession, as it was called. During any hour, whoever was the wealthiest person on earth, would die. As soon as it was figured out, the world shifted to a sharing economy where no one possessed anything. It was all in the mind.
It was easy for the adults to change their beliefs under the constant threat of death. But then the children began dying. And soon it became like a disease that only afflicted the toddlers who were starting to learn what it meant to be human. And one of their natural phases went through the concept of personal possession.
Durva picked up Tarun by his shirt. He was silent, his eyes in disbelief at the violence from his mother. Durva raised her free arm, slapped Tarun across both cheeks a few times and shouted down at him, “The ball is not yours. Nothing is yours! Get that thought out of your mind, Tarun!”
Tarun now wailed into the sky, his arms hanging like limp branches by his side.
Durva picked him up in his arms and began to walk back. She needed to get back to the family who could guide her on what to do next. Tarun was still alive, which meant it hadn’t been an hour since he got the idea of possession. There was still time. And with her smacks, he must have forgotten about the ball by now, she thought.
“You cannot think of anything as your possession, Tarun. It is dangerous and we are punished for such thoughts. See, everything belongs to us all. We are all one!” Durva spoke into Tarun’s ears as she caressed his head and walked back.
|
TheSciFanGuy
|
randomhemant
|
2024-07-13 14:45:05
|
2024-07-13 14:34:59
| 797 | 17 |
lczveij
|
lczttgx
|
1e276ci
|
1e276ci
|
[WP] You are a supervillain who is feared across the globe. However, your acts of villainy have caused zero injuries or deaths. Instead, what people fear you for: You take a minor inconvenience, and apply it at large scale. The heroes are at a loss, for they can never stop you.
|
I am Nitro. I am the fastest man alive. And boy do people hate that. I don't go around robbing banks or killing people, or really anything of that sort. I just like making people's lives inconvenient. The sneeze that never comes? I make sure it never does. The sock falling down into your shoe? I make sure it's big enough for you to never ignore. Throw a few pebbles into the shoes for good measure. That remote that you can't find? I put it in the most random spots that will leave them confused for the rest of their lives. Washing your hands with a long sleeve shirt or jacket? You know damn well that I make sure that's soaking wet.
The best part about this? I know that no one can stop me. None of the heroes can come close to catching me. Some of them can see me coming but they know they can't catch me. Even the boy scout, Sentinel. I even found out who he was and made his proposal to his now wife inconvenient as well. Not enough to completely ruin his relationship, but enough for his wife to still be laughing about it. Him kneeling down in a puddle that wasn't there before? Check. Untying his shoelace so that his future wife thinks that he's just tying his shoe? Check. The ring box being put in a different pocket? Check. The best part about it was that he saw me the whole time.
You see, Sentinel is pretty fast too. Second only to me, but he still can't catch me. Not even close. I made sure I made eye contact with him as I was doing those things to him. All with a big smile on my face. He couldn't do a damn thing about it either. Not unless he wants to put his identity at risk for the other, more nefarious villains.
But back to me. It's getting close to morning now. I have found all the people in the world that have that little bit of milk left in their fridge. Just enough for that one bowl in the morning before they really start their day. After they pour in the cereal to the bowl, I'll take the milk and put back the empty carton/bag/plastic/glass containers into the fridge. So they all have to either suck it up and eat the dry cereal, go without breakfast, or run to the store and get a new one.
What about the people who put the milk in before their cereal you ask? Well... I have to have cereal with my milk too.
|
Edit: nsfw/language
It’s funny. You’ve probably heard it tens of thousands of times… ever since you were a little kid. Climate change. Greenhouse gases. The need to reduce our environmental impacts to avert disaster. But ten, twenty, thirty years later, here we are, doing the same fucking thing, despite that the consequences of our actions have been laid out for our entire lives.
The most recent evidence suggests that we need to reduce our emissions by 60% by 2035 if we are to have any hope of keeping global warming to 1.5 degrees. Keep in mind, even doing that, we are going to continue to see disastrous weather events, rising sea water, and a migration crisis that will make the 2015 European migrant crisis like a walk in the park.
But you, you fucks don’t want to do *anything*. God forbid you pay a little fucking extra and actually account for the disastrous cost of carbon. God forbid some of your hard earned tax money be spent on mitigating the damage while we still can. No no no. You fucks would rather bury your head in the sand, roll fucking coal, and do your damndest to make the world worse for everyone else. I mean for fuck sales you can’t even *reduce* your meat consumption, let alone phase it out, even though livestock account for 17% of our fucking emissions and you’re murdering them by the billions every year. For fuck sakes. At every opportunity you will choose convenience over the future of your planet and your own species.
None of you would bear the most minor fucking inconvenience willingly. No no no. You *NEEDED* someone to make you. You’re like fucking children, can’t make the hard decisions. And so you need an adult to make them for you, and for that, you labelled me a villain. Fuck, all I did on a global scale was make it so that your personal AC systems shit the bed. I left the air conditioning on public transit working. Thought maybe that would entice some of you fucks to use it more. Bud good god judging by your reactions you would think I kicked a dog! Warrants for my arrest and everything.
But you see. You’ll never find me. With the snap of my fingers I can *make* you suffer the inconveniences this world requires. You’ll never know my name. You’ll never know my face. But you will know the consequences of your pathetic self-indulgence.
I started small of course. It’s… challenging to find the limits of this power. What counts as an inconvenience… what’s more…. Where’s the line? But food allergies? Oh… I would call that a major inconvenience…
You see I got the idea from this little thing called the lone star tick. It’s found in most of the southeastern United States. A most peculiar creature. You see when this fucker bites you, it can cause you to produce antibodies against alpha-gal, a sugar found in every single mammal on earth. That’s right. Those that are bit by these little fuckers have the *inconvenience* of being allergic to beef, pork, lamb… pretty much every fucking meat that you all so enjoy. And this isn’t the sniffles. Try and eat that shit and you’ll be trapped in your bathroom for days… both ends. Oh, and alpha gal is found in dairy by the way, so don’t try anything funny.
You fucks couldn’t cut down on your consumption, so now you don’t have a choice. You see, this inconvenience that normally only maybe a few hundred thousand people in the continental United States now applies to *all of you*. Congratulations. You all have alpha-gal syndrome. Why? Because I fucking say so. That’s why. You petulant children can go without meat, billions of mammals need suffer no longer, and our planet - and your future - will be better for it.
And don’t worry. This isn’t the last you whiny fucks will hear from me. Oh no no. Like I said, you bastards can’t make the hard decisions, so now I’m going to make them for you.
|
TheDevastatingForce
|
Mystaes
|
2024-05-17 04:58:48
|
2024-05-17 01:43:35
| 39 | 21 |
l4ewnz9
|
l4e8a6l
|
1ctk1m1
|
1ctk1m1
|
[WP] An elf goes out on a ‘short errand’, forgetting that 30 years is a long time to have left his human wife and child at home.
|
In terms of lifespans, elves were generally accepted to be functionally immortal. The oldest known, was around 9000 years old but there are rumors of sages over a 100,000 years old.
It was also widely known that this was not natural but a result of the largest ritual in recorded history. In fact there's been speculation that elves were just humans from a highly advanced human civilisation and the physical differences were also a result of the same ritual that gave them their lifespans.
The evidence for that is elves and humans can have offspring. The resulting half-elves are known to live up to a thousand years or so.
All that is to say, when my father left on an errand one day, everyone knew he wasn't coming back. In fact, it was widely known that for relatively young elves who have never had long term contact with individual humans, they lack the understanding that short meant minutes or an hour, not years. There are two scenarios when young elves take human partners, they remain with their spouses till the day they die, and learning that humans don't live long or they decide to go on *short* errands.
For a 15 year old, I was sorely ignorant of the world but even so, I knew something was wrong in hoe desperate mum was in trying to get dad to stay.
The last thing he said to us respectively was "You worry, too much, I'll be back in a while" and "I'll see you around kiddo"
Thirty years have passed since then. Mum passed away, still waiting for dad to come back, and I've taken up the vigil. Not because I was desperate to see the man, nor was it because I promised my mum that I would. Not entirely anyway. It's because I vowed to myself that I would give him a good punch, the moment he shows up.
Being an adventurer, the chances are that I would miss the moment when he does come back but as fate would have it. I didn't.
As I've practiced countless times, when the door opened, I stood from my usual seat by the wall where the door would be blocking me from view once open and hearing the phrase "Honey, I'm home" uttered, I stepped around the door, and crouched low, throwing a haymaker that connected beautifully.
Aiming for his abdomen, I feel him fold then straightening up, I watch as he falls to his knees, groaning "What?" He raises his head to look at me. "Who?"
"Welcome home father. We have much to discuss"
|
*Dear Delyse.*
*My lovely daughter. My dear. Poor girl. I hear of the misery your father’s passing has caused you. It aches me to hear, it tears at the sinew of my soul. I wish for you to not experience any of this anguish. Let it be known that I love you. And always will.*
*I did not intend to leave your father alone to raise you for nearly twenty years. I did not intended for him to be alone during his last days, but he slipped through my mind. I was preoccupied. I did not expect him to meet his demise at 36 years of age. This is a very short life, even for a human being.*
*I know it would have given you immediate comfort to have been there as he succumbed to his injuries, or knowing I was with him. But we were not. He is dead. It does not matter. The anguish you feel for him will be a memory in a few hundred years.*
*The first time will always be the worst. But I will try to explain this. It is easier for you to understand in human terms.*
*Human scientists are fascinated by fruit flies. There are many reasons for this, they believe the bugs share a number of genetic threads with other animals. Many vestigial organs and systems similar to others. They breed quickly and provide vast samples to play around with.*
*A less important factor is their short lives. They are born, they fly, they breed, grow old, and die in two months if they’re lucky. Outside testing facilities and the protection of humanity their lives are much shorter. The fly will die, and if a human were to die in 10 years, they would still live a life over a hundred times longer.*
*Your father, Khenan… he was like a fly to me.*
*I have lived for thousands of years. He was not my first. And he will not be my last. Not my first in this, “Jamaica”. Not my first with such dark skin. Not even the only one I have at this very moment. Both males and females, but they are all flies. The ones passed were all flies. I am sure I paired myself to an ancestor of his once. A Nubian Queen, many, many miles East of here, across the ocean*
*Do you not realize how* ***suffocating*** *it felt? Having been his* ***only*** *partner? Whenever I visited, he would hug and plead and sleep on top of me as if he would die in minutes. I blink and he was born. I blink and he has grown, clutching onto me. Like a baby. I blink and I am pregnant. I blink and you are here. I blink and he is dead. I blink and you are grown, kicking and whining, because he is dead.*
*They all die. So swiftly. It is pointless.*
*… Many humans also love dogs. And cats. They live over a decade before becoming old and bitter. A human can love and care for one it’s entire life without devoting a significant amount of it’s own life to it. In time, it is a distant memory. An achievement, history. Soon, meaningless.*
*My daughter. You are similar to a dog. Or a cat. But more meaningful than a fly. You are also not my first, but you are one of the few. You have inherited my negligible senescence. You will live for at least 500 years if you are fortunate.*
*Dogs and cats love. Or at least appreciate. Human beings know this, even if it is temporary. I consider your love much more meaningful than your father's love. My love for you is much more than anything I felt for him.*
*But his death did not leave my unfazed Delyse. Your misery is like a stake to my heart, tearing it tendon by tendon, sinew, and soul. Your pain is my pain, I wish I can take it all away from you and bring it onto myself. But I cannot do this for you, Delyse.*
*This will happen to you again. And again. And again. I hope your father helps you realize. Everyone you know and love will shrivel up and blow away before you even look 30. It is not up to me how you choose to deal with this, but you will see it, or you will feel it.*
*But know that you are my daughter, and that I will always love you.*
*Best wishes*
*- Gylledhia*
|
CipherWrites
|
None
|
2023-04-02 10:12:40
|
2023-04-02 06:45:27
| 67 | 40 |
jen86ct
|
jemt4ih
|
1294tv7
|
1294tv7
|
[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.
|
They call it "tactile telekinesis", and it sounds freaking awesome. Until you realize just how big a difference range can make. My power has a range of literally inches - maybe a foot, if I concentrate, but then only for a moment. Within that range, I can lift several times my bodyweight. Still sounds useful, right?
Wrong. The mass has to be located in my effective range. So you got a refrigerator to move? Sorry, unless it's a foot cubed, I've got the same lifting capability of any other normal guy. I've tried everything to make my power useful, working out to bulk up (technically works, my weight limit increased), practicing daily to extend my range (worked a little - that's why I can push out to 11-12 inches), I even talked to a couple of brainy types to see if they could fix my problems. One of them had the nerve to tell me I should focus on "precise control" instead of helping me turn this into a hero-worthy power! The nerve!
Well maybe he wasn't wrong, though. I did add some new exercises to my daily training. And it turns out I can focus on a smaller area with interesting results. My control actually gets better on small areas, I can feel the structure of what I'm touching. And I mean really feel it down to very fine detail. I tried to focus on my phone, figured I could maybe use it "hands-free", manipulate the screen through my power. And I could! But more than that, I could feel the tiny flow of electricity below that.
And I can manipulate that even more easily than I'd have thought possible. It took awhile to get a feel for it. I might have fried a couple of phones before I got it figured out. Still not a hero-worthy power, though. They laughed me right out of the building when I tried to show them what I could do.
So I'm going into business for myself. Started small, ATMs and the like. As long as the mechanism is near the surface, I can trigger it with little trouble. My trial run took place while I was doing my regular weekly deposit, just made the machine spit out money while it was reading my card. No need to make a special trip and look all shifty with a hoodie and shades.
Sure, "bank robbing" is a little low-brow and cliché, but we've all got to start somewhere. And really, I'm not a *bad* bad guy. I'm pretty sure I could use this to literally rearrange someone's nervous system signals if I got into touching distance, but I wouldn't do that! I'm learning more about computers, though, because you know - that's where the future's heading. Everything is electronic these days. Security systems, locks, practically anything you can think of has delicate inner workings just out of sight.
I think things are finally looking up.
|
The ability to turn anything I touch into poo made me a pretty useless hero. In a world dominated by superpowers such as laser eyes, flying and x-ray vision, the others viewed me as a good-for-nothing nobody. A poster hero of uselessness.
Even regular people were pretty unamused by my so-called superpower. I couldn't even get a job at a fertilizer company as the poo I made from stone turned out to be human poo, which is, as fortune would have it, quite useless.
Tragedy struck my family like thunder, my father had killed himself after the shame brought upon his family name. He couldn't take it anymore. Kids would throw stones and break our windows, shouting: "Poo man, poo man, poor-man!" Our neighbors ignored us and random people on the street would snicker or shout obscenities as they passed our home. My father was by no means a proud man, but he had dignity. It was that same dignity that brought him to an early grave.
I loved my father. He was the one and only thing keeping me from killing myself. He would always tell me: A man is not defined by his birth, but by merit. And he truly believed that and I truly believed that, until he no longer believed it, I guess? He worked a blue-collar job, he was a self-made man, even the house we had, he built with his own two hands. And now, it all amounted to nothing.
My stomach recoiled and I felt bile stuck in my throat. It was shit. It was all fucking shit. Poo. The funeral yesterday was the last straw, the last thing keeping me from turning this wretched Earth into what it really was, poo. Nobody except for the Priest and me showed up. Not even my bitch mother. I was by no means a misanthrope, but years of constant derision, mockery and segregation combined with my father's suicide, made everything look so grim, dystopian and decadent.
Why? Why did he have to die? My mother left him when I was four for a fling and now I was all alone, with nothing. No respect, dignity or... Or morals. Why would I subscribe to the rules of the very society that ousted me? That took everything away from me by no fault of mine? Even my dad, the only person I cherished in this world.
Oh father, forgive me, but I think it's time to show the world what it gets for shitting on me for so long.
I never really tested my abilities on humans or animals, I found it to be too crude, callous and inhumane. But now, now it's on.
Having experimented with a few animals, I noticed that not only could I turn them into poo by mere touch, but that I could, if I concentrated, turn anything in a five feet radius into poo. The homeless man down the street was my last and final test - I easily turned him into poo and he didn't even notice me.
As I returned home, mentally exhausted from my first kill, a knock on the door. Five of the most elite heroes came to pay respects to my father. They heard what had happened and felt sorry for the poor ol' me. I was about to let them in. With glee in my eyes I rushed to the front door; maybe the world wasn't so rotten, maybe there is some humanity left after all, maybe I was too eager to pull the trigger on the planet and all its inhabitants.
As I was about to unlock the door, I heard laughter from outside. I placed my right ear next to the door frame. What I heard crushed me into a million pieces, the final nail in the coffin, like the eyes of a fly, now my empathy has become that of an insect.
"Did you know that people shit themselves before they die?"
"A fitting end for the poor-man."
More laughter. These monsters clad in black out of respect? Out of what? Why?
I turned the door into poo. As the last remnants of the frame were melting into a gooey mass down on the floor, the Captain screamed that no unauthorized use of superpowers was permitted.
I looked at them, with so much vile hatred in my eyes. I was crying.
"STOP IT! STOP IT NOW!" I screamed with all my might.
"What are you going to do, poo-man, turn us into poo?" Cladestine snickered and the others were holding in their laughter.
"Exactly."
With one word and a flick of my wrist, all five turned into what they really were, a steaming pile of shit.
(Typed this on mobile, sorry for any mistakes.)
|
TolmanP
|
innerknightmare
|
2024-07-29 13:44:10
|
2024-07-29 12:28:32
| 554 | 302 |
lfhix3m
|
lfh7ul3
|
1eewvkg
|
1eewvkg
|
[WP] It becomes abundantly clear to the characters that the narrator has terrible narrating skills. They start to get off track criticizing the narrator for every mistake and bland writing.
|
**The November Battlefield**
——
“This is what happens when nobody believes," Father Christmas spat a wad of blood and wiped his eye with a once white fuzzy cuff that now matched the hue of his suit.
The November battlefield was once beautiful.
Falling leaves on the ground. Poetry in the wind. Nostalgia in the hearts.
"Look what you have done!" the Lady Lord of Halloween shouted. She wore an armor suit weaved of bone. Her hair was long and black in a single braid wrapped in webs. She gestured with her sword, a great long blade of twisted black metal, over the burned battlefield.
In the piles of the dead some soldiers cry wounded, clawing in the mud.
Elves, ghouls, skeletons, reindeers, turkey, patrons of giving -- they all littered the field.
"I told you -" Father Christmas spotted the Thanksgiving Steward, a sprite, the keeping of grateful remembrance. Small and mighty. Bleeding and struggling to sit up.
"Don't -" the Lady of Lord of Halloween started to plea but it was too late. The sprite was brought to an end by a size twelve boot.
The Lady Lord of Halloween cursed the heavens and took a firm grip to her sword, and with both hands held it before her chest. She took a deep breath.
Behind her the lands off October lay in smog and enclosing doom.
"On my honor, one of us will die before you set foot on October soil!" She cried and charged.
Father Christmas cracked his knuckles and took a fighting stance. "I will make them all believe again!"
She swung, he dodged and spun around and swung his sledgehammer sized fists wildly. He towered over her. A once humble giant turned to a ferocious beast.
The Lady Lord of Halloween flipped back and around, she couldn't be touched.
Father Christmas screamed in anger -- "I gave them everything! And still they all love you!"
He was rage and unbound. Sloppy. A misstep. A spin. A single chop and one of his sledgehammer fists parted from his body and before he could calculate it all the Lady Lord of Halloween had twisted and ducked low and the twisted black steel went in that once jolly belly and popped out his back in a geyser of blood.
Father Christmas kept on his feet.
He reached for her and snarled.
She dug the blade deeper. And twisted.
Bloody tears ran down his face.
He fought it, knees shaking, and finally he fell to one knee.
"They -" he coughed. "They did this to me."
The Lady Lord of Halloween felt pity for him. They were friends all their long years, as they say. But her eyes gazed over him to the destruction he had brought.
"You did this to yourself," she ripped the blade from his gut and he fell dead. In the mud it was hard to tell where his suit ended and the pool of his blood began.
The Lady Lord of Halloween looked around and started to cry.
She found a wounded soldier - the first one her eye saw - an elf, and went to his aid.
"Lady?" he asked.
"It's ok," she said. He could only look up at her confused.
She nodded. "It will be ok."
----
r/wyrdfiction -- Sub if you like my writing.
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He need not have called so loudly, for Father Christmas' armies, adorned in blood red and snow white, had amassed right at the boundary line where they contrasted with the ominous orange and blacks of those aligned with Lord Halloween. Here in these lands, the first of November had been declared the official line of demarcation between the territories of the two holidays. It was only days away, but some members of the Christmas Faction were always over-eager, threatening the sovereignty of the Halloween.
Somewhere outside of Chicago, a man had stood on a ladder and hung a strand of green, white, and red bulbs across the eaves of his suburban home in September to get ahead of the weather. In a department store outside of Biloxi, workers had filled an aisle with Christmas themed merchandise on October tenth. Father Christmas let out a mighty laugh, shaking like a bowl full of horrid jelly as he did.
"You would deny me the right to expansion, Lord Halloween," he declared, his voice echoing across the battle-wrecked plains of the fourth quarter, "but you have no more power to control these fates than I. Your holiday is over when the plains of November begin, but mine have no such limitations."
Father Christmas pointed a finger gloved in immaculate white velvet, gesturing towards stores in tourist towns in New York and New Hampshire which operated Christmas stores year-round and shared visions of the top shelves of the closets of the highly prepared, where carefully thought-out Christmas presents began to amass in June. "Your people do not have such engrained traditions, Halloween. Your holiday is but a flash in the pan, and the forces of Christmas shall never respect such an arbitrary boundary!"
With business slowing, a Spirit Halloween built into the skeleton of a former grocery store in downtown Houston closed its doors a few days before Halloween. Lord Halloween bellowed with rage, his incised forces clanking sword to shield and straining to surge past the narrow strip separating the bulk of the two armies. As it had always been, they could all feel their power slipping once more as the unstoppable force of time rippled forward, bending and twisting its way toward the boundary line.
Father Christmas' eyes flashed as he saw his enemies falter at the brink. "It is true that we were once friends," he yelled at his counterpart, "but your season was in its infancy then! Meanwhile there are parts of this world where Christmas reigns supreme from September to December! We shall soon declare the entire Fourth Quarter to be-" he paused here to build impact, his armies cheering wildly behind him- "CHRISTMAS TIME!" His words fell into a volley of riotous cheers from his countrymen, waving banners of snowflakes and brandishing the cross.
And so the battle commenced. And when it all came to a bitter end on the morning of November 1, the Halloween armies lay decimated. Around the world, now, people began to decorate their houses with the symbols of Christmas as if driven by a force they could not describe. Evergreen trees, both real and artificial, filled bay windows. Lighted tinsel shapes dangled from streetlights and roof lines. And collectively, people reached into their wallets to begin the ritualistic purchases that defined the season for so many.
Lord Halloween lay on the ground, gazing upon the ruin that stretched all around the Fourth Quarter. "Christmas," he croaked, "must we go through this wretched dance every year?"
Father Christmas looked down at him and smiled coldly. "Ho, ho, ho," he laughed joylessly as he cinched his red cloak around his body and strode off across the barren fighting ground and back towards the lands that always glowed with the colors of Father Christmas and his unstoppable armies.
The Lord of Halloween lay silently for a moment, then sat up. He felt a stirring deep in the heart of Arizona where a young boy sat with his tablet, getting a jump on his costume for next year. He felt a similar sensation trickling in from Alberta as a bunch of of college students penned out their drunken plans from the previous night to travel to Mexico City the following year. They'd dress as luchadores, and did not much care for any talk of cultural appropriation.
A smile began to crackle across the lips of Lord Halloween. Seasonal spirits never truly died for some. Father Christmas had won the day, but Halloween and its armies of goblins and ghouls would find themselves back at the front lines again, just as soon as Fourth Quarter began again.
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wyrdfiction
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Dotcor_Strangelove
|
2023-10-31 15:37:42
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2023-10-31 15:36:25
| 84 | 27 |
k78p1n4
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k78oueo
|
17kkc6e
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17kkc6e
|
[WP] Humans aren't actually space Orcs, they're space Orcas. For most, they're a social, playful species. For their prey, however, the evil shit Humans can conjure up to hurt and destroy them is terrifying.
|
My father had always enjoyed the great Earth classics, Chaucer, Mozart, Lady Gaga. The “true greats” as he would say.
They were renowned artists, performers and sportsmen across the sector. You would never find a kinder more gentle species than the Humans of Earth. I mean they named their homeworld after the soil on its surface - it doesn’t get more peaceful than that. Or so we thought.
When the Jar-Jahin attacked we discovered the price the Humans had paid to reach the unparalleled artistic heights of Gaga’s galactically renowned “Disco Stick” - it was a price of blood. The price now paid across the sector by all Jar-Jahin.
It started small, raiders on our trade routes, missing pleasure cruisers. We all thought it was pirates at first - just normal inter system transit risk. Besides we all had insurance so it wasn’t a big deal.
They made their first mistake of course when they targeted my fathers vessel.
His obsession with human culture meant half his complement was the sweet little mammals from Earth. He loved their jokes and stories and the singing. His first mate was a fantastic harmoniser for the chorus of “Applause” and she claimed to be a distant relative of Gaga. Or so my father always said at least.
The Jar-Jahin boarded his vessel and the captain burned her poor head clean off with his blaster at point blank range. He was trying to send a message it seems.
No longer satisfied with small raids they demanded my fathers entire cargo and they were going to get it under threat of further violence.
The cargo was bound for Marz, an outpost colony operated by the chocolatiers of Earth. Aiming to create a wonderland of pure imagination for those with a sweet tooth.
The cargo - it was embryos you see, human ones. They preferred to colonise new worlds with new people. Something a friend once called terra nova?
Besides the humans nobody else held much value in these little embryos. Clones were a much more effective colonising force for most of the galaxy. Upon learning of the lack of value in the cargo hold the Jar-Jahin captain ordered it destroyed. The Royal Court would have no use for this he said, and instead he took the human crew as slaves.
The humans in fairness to them tried the art of diplomacy first. They were willing to shrug off the embryo loss, I suppose when you’ve got a hundred billion people a few thousand balls of cells aren’t too much of a loss, but the slaves were another matter. Humans held freedom in the highest regard and had fought for generations to end slavery on their homeworld. It was baked into their culture and their spirit to breathe free and belong to no one.
It was admirable in a way, that they always advocated for the end of slavery at the Galactic Council. And in all trade negotiations I might add. Those silly little mammals trying their best to liberate the huddled masses was very endearing - they even managed to end slavery on my homeworld.
But the Jar-Jahin Royal Court would hear nothing of this. Slaves were taken by right in their culture and would be liberated under no circumstances.
The humans turned then. Their creativity turned to cunning, their passion into blood lust. Our military alliance with them shifted into their leadership overnight as their tacticians suddenly drew out vast battle plans and intricate infiltration missions.
They had agents already in the homeworld of the Jar-Jahin gene spliced and surgically altered to blend in. It stated with bombs and “terrorist attacks” at the Royal Court.
Suddenly across the whole sector previously dead rocks spun into life and vast quantum drive ships rose from the oceans of Earth.
It was relentless. The machines. The toxins. The rays of light blasting across the sector like stars exploding in a rainbow supernova. In many ways one could see the beauty in the violence. It was precise and haphazard and quiet and loud all at once. It was a total war waged on every front.
Economically the Jar-Jahin were ruined in a matter of days. Their military was in tatters after a few weeks. But it took a little longer to snap their spirit.
There are regions of space still now where the laws of physics themselves are broken.
One almost felt pity for the Jar-Jahin. Their homeworld desolate and destroyed, their star leaking plasma and their people drenched in blood.
It was not a pleasant end to their race.
But it taught the other council members a valuable lesson. The humans truly are artists you see. They dedicate themselves fully to it, just pray you never learn their Art of War.
|
Been reading a lot of human fiction lately. Well, i think it's fiction. Tough to tell. Translation is more of an art than a science, especially across species lines.
In their fiction, there's a sort of creature called an "orc." These creatures are sapient and typically characterized as cruel and unintelligent but incredibly strong and resourceful and brave. I asked my human neighbor once and she said orcs were an artifact of a crueler time in human history, where painting large groups of people with a wide brush was more common and this trend towards generalizing was reflected in their fiction and fictional sapient species.
There was a period in their history, a very brief period, when humans themselves were regularly characterized as "space orcs." Their early space exploration and infrastructure involved a lot of danger and improvisation. That's fairly typical across the galaxy but some human fiction writers saw the hazards of space and determined that humans must actually be orc-like to explore space. So they wrote stories where humans were the bravest and strongest and most resourceful (and sometimes the cruelest) intelligent creatures in the universe. This was all before they successfully exited their sun's gravity and reached another star, before they were introduced to the greater galactic community. Space Orc stories became less popular when they began to understand the beautiful but mundane reality that every intelligent being in space is slightly crazy.
I've also been reading human nonfiction lately. There's a group of animals on their planet, cetaceans. Cetaceans are endothermic, endoskeletal, air-breathing aquatic predators. The largest animals in earth history are filter-feeding cetaceans that subsist on a diet of much smaller exoskeletal ectotherms. Cetaceans are highly social and humans have even established communication with them, proving some of them are sapient. Apparently they have no interest in space travel, though.
There's one species of cetacean, called orca, that are highly effective pack hunters, typically eating other aquatic endoskeletal air-breathing endotherms (though typically not other cetaceans). Some groups of humans even developed non-linguistic communication and cooperative hunting strategies with orca prior to establishing linguistic contact. Orca have a reputation among humans as social, sociable, kind, loyal creatures. But they have another nickname among humans, too: killer whales. Remember, cetaceans are predators. Most are hunters. Orca are ambush pack hunters. They were known to kill humans and destroy small human aquatic vessels prior to linguistic contact. Their reputation for cunning was only outmatched by their reputation for effective and brutal predatory violence.
I've been reading about all this because I've also been sailing with humans for a period. To tell you the truth, their spacecraft aren't all that impressive. They rely on organs that detect the electromagnetic spectrum like most species, so they build everything around being able to see. They're terrestrial and breathe air so their spacecraft need to be airtight. They mostly subsist on photosynthetic organisms but have carnivory in their recent evolutionary history. They prefer spacecraft that rotate to simulate gravity with spacious interiors and features to simulate conditions of their homeworld. Nothing spectacular or noteworthy.
But they traditionally build homes and other buildings with the dessicated and chemically treated remains of photosynthesizers, too. This wood tends to be highly flammable. Humans have a very long history of firefighting. Human sailors, both aboard aquatic vessels and spacecraft, have a tradition of being firefighters in addition to their other sailing duties. This is somewhat atypical. Very atypical for us, as you should well know.
I'm not used to human fire safety practices, practices they instill into their young at a very early age. This is embarrassing to admit but I mistakenly set fire to my dwelling aboard a human cylinder ship. I overcooked a human recipe i was trying, the food caught fire and i tossed the contents of the cooking pot on the floor in a panic. The rug caught fire, too, and rather quickly my entire dwelling was in flames. I didn't know what to do and i panicked and i hid in a storage closet.
I was too afraid to leave the closet and the fire was getting close to me and the smoke was making it nearly impossible to breathe when my neighbor tore down the door to my dwelling with an ax i didn't even know she had. She called out for me and somehow heard my feeble cry from within the closet. She ran through the flames, experiencing multiple minor burns across her body, ripped apart the closet door (again using the ax), grabbed me about the thorax, and dragged me outside. A person a quarter my mass risked her life, experienced multiple injuries to her person, and destroyed seemingly strong structures, all to save me, a near-total stranger of a completely different species, at an instant's notice. If the fire hadn't panicked me, the ferocity with which she acted would have.
I've been reading about human history lately. Biologically, they're pack-hunting persistence predators. Prior to their invention of interstellar travel, they fought countless brutal wars. Innumerable humans died from thrown rocks and stab wounds and supersonic projectile wounds and explosives and any other sort of death you can imagine, all inflicted by other humans. (Obviously, most humans historically died of disease, like with most peoples. But war and inter-human violence is one of their most common historical causes of death after disease.) Prior to my accidental close call with auto-immolation, prior to seeing my neighbor tear my home apart with an ax in an instant, i didn't believe it. They're very accommodating and kind hosts and have been in all my encounters with them.
They were wrong about themselves, though. Pardon the pun (assuming it translates well in your language) but they're not orcs. They're orcas.
|
Mysterious_Call_7259
|
braindeadcoyote
|
2023-06-18 08:08:02
|
2023-06-18 07:52:49
| 187 | 70 |
jokavm6
|
jok9tj7
|
14c2ec4
|
14c2ec4
|
[WP][TT] In the present life, you are what you eat. But when you die, it turns out you have to battle what you've eaten throughout your life to gain access to the afterlife. You remember, with a sinking feeling, that adventurous trip you took in Australia.
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When they took off her blindfold, they expected a panicked look in her eyes. But no, she just seemed… sleepy? As her vision cleared, she took a look at her captors and… there was pity in her eyes. A bunch of thugs. Maybe slave traders from the looks of it.
One of them noticed. Maybe they got off of it, she thought. The thug immediately pulled down her gag. He glared at her, trying to intimidate her but to no avail.
He clicked his tongue. “At least someone will pay to ruin that pretty face.”
A smirk. He almost wanted to punch her but he didn’t want to damage the goods. They thought she was an easy sell. She looked like a rich merchant’s daughter. If they couldn’t sell her, they can probably ask for ransom. But so far, her actions didn’t match a pampered brat.
“What? Got anything to say, lass?”
“You’re so fucked.” She could almost hear a scolding of her choice of words. Then again, if any of her siblings were here… well…
Before the man could respond, the ground shook. There was a loud banging on the walls. Her captors weren’t worried. This hideout might look shabby from the outside but they reinforced the inside with steel plates.
Steel plates that started to bend and pop off the walls.
“Yeah, I’m the youngest. I’m the only human so my siblings might be a bit…”
One segment of the wall was torn apart by sharp claws. From the other side, the ground started to crack as several sharp appendages started to burrow out. Dust fell from the ceiling. They could hear the flap of wings and several squeaks and chirps.
“...protective.”
The locked door made a singeing sound as a blade sliced through it like butter. Heavy steps echoed as a woman in armor made her way through the hole.
“Chris,” the woman called out. Though, it was more of a shock that she held her head under her arm. “Found you.”
A slithering sound hissed and the leader realized that some of his men were already missing.
“Sorry. I got careless,” Christina apologized. “Does dad know?”
“Our moms are keeping him occupied…”
All of a sudden, a terrible pressure weighed upon the area. It was heavy to the point that those inside could barely breathe. Well, Chris and her sisters weren’t affected that much. Almost as if they were used to it.
“...were keeping him occupied.”
- [Their Dad](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/1eq10by/comment/lhp4rqg/)
|
It's a large van, plenty of room to do some damage. One of Karen's captors sits near her, pointing with his thumb.
"Guess she thinks she's some kind of kung fu master with that blindfold on--"
In an instant, a bare foot slaps against his jaw. The slender man's skin ripples like a loose sheet on a bed. Pure horror paints her second captor’s face. Thin Tim might have been slight, but he was a seasoned fighter in their circle. To see him reduced to a limp mess with a single kick... who was this girl? Wasn't she supposed to be tied by the ankles?
"Tim! What the f--" Karen spins then rolls backward, wrapping her hands bound behind her back around the second captor's neck. She slams the back of her head into his nose, turning it nearly inside out.
"AHH!! AHH!!" the man screams.
"What's going on back there Jagmeet?" The driver can't make out the blur of commotion in the back through the rearview mirror. They're driving fast, he can't take his eyes off the road. The man in the passenger seat twists to face the back of the van, gun in hand. He sees his friend, Jagmeet, being repeatedly slammed in the face by the back of the young girl's head. Jagmeet flails and screams in vain. Nothing will save him.
The man in the passenger seat reaches for Jagmeet, making the worst mistake of his life. The driver swerves in an attempt to stave off Karen's attack, but Karen's dainty fingers latch onto the man in the passenger seat's finger, snapping it as Jagmeet slumps to the side, pulling Karen with him.
CRACK!
Karen dislocates her shoulder and twirls in the air to face the front of the van. The blindfold sticks, but Karen evolved past the need for eyes years ago.
SNAP!
Her shoulder pops back into place. Karen smacks Jagmeet's unconscious head into the passenger's hand, relinquishing the gun from his grip. The pistol misfires directly into her bindings. Unburdened by the shackles that once bound her, Karen leaps on all fours toward the man in the passenger seat.
"Kim, get your shit together!" shouts the driver. Ah yes, Kim, another name sings in Karen's ears.
"She's an animal I-- AHHH" Karen reaches into the front section of the car and sticks her pink acrylic nails into Kim's eye.
POP!
It's out, dangling by the nerve.
"WHAT THE FU--" Kim can't keep two eyes in his head, and the driver can't keep two eyes on the road. A semi swerves in front of them. The driver spins the wheel as fast as he can. The van topples and spins wildly. The limp bodies in the back flail as Karen walks on each wall as up becomes down, becomes down, becomes down. Like the center gear in a gyroscope, Karen cannot be anything less than perfectly level with the ground.
The van rolls to a stop. Kim mimics his friends, unconscious, but unfortunately for them all, still alive. Karen is nowhere in sight. Now's the driver's chance. His arm and leg are broken, his thigh bone protrudes from his camo pants, but the pain is numb in the shock. He needs to move, needs to survive.
Glass cracks behind him and he swivels his head. Nothing. Then from behind a giggle. He pivots again... nothing.
"WHAT ARE YOU!" the man screams into the air.
In his ears -- no -- in his head, he hears her.
"I'm the youngest of fifteen brothers, and my name is Karen. I'm invincible."
"AHHHH!!!" The driver covers his ears with both hands. Anything to get her out of his head. Then he feels her, from every direction, like the pressure of the deep ocean.
"What's your name? I need to know." the voice says.
"I-it's Jason!"
"That's my oldest brother's name."
"Oh thank god!"
"I hate my oldest brother. He's the only one stronger than me."
"NOOO--"
RRRRRIP!
Jason's head falls to the ground, his last look of terror still worn. Karen opens the van and grabs her Hello Kitty backpack and Sanrio crocs. It's time to run, or she may be late for her grade seven English class.
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reikutohno
|
writerparis
|
2024-09-03 05:45:57
|
2024-09-03 00:11:34
| 111 | 78 |
ll9j794
|
ll89ls6
|
1f7kp9r
|
1f7kp9r
|
[WP] An entire city was wiped off the map by a disaster that took 100,000 lives. They were then all reincarnated in a fantasy realm as various species, with full memories intact. Yes: This is the story of a City-Wide Isekai.
|
My morning this day went awry the first minute I woke up.
For a few past years, I had a habit - when I woke up, I checked my favorite news channel in Mailgram. This day, however, I wasn't able to do so - because nothing in my house had Internet connection.
Nor WiFi, nor 4G worked. I was a bit begrudged about it, but whatever - I could live without it for a day. More so, my ISP and mobile provider were the same company, so I just assumed something went wrong on their end (again). I was in no mood to argue with them at 6:30 AM and was going to work, so I postponed this problem to a later date.
Then, I decided to cook some eggs. And - surprise! - no electricity either.
Well, at least it explained things - if it was city wide outage, mobile towers with internet are obviously out of commission too. And, if it was a city wide problem, that meant what I didn't need to argue with anyone myself. At least some good came out of it.
The other problem was, however, that I lived on 12 floor of an apartment building. If there was no electricity, that meant what I had to take stairs. But I just counted it as morning exercise.
Finally, after stairs took all my breath away, I was able to leave the building. I worked in local school as a "Fundamentals of life safety" teacher. Basically, I told young and silly schoolboys and girls how not to get lost in the forest, what to do with contraceptives, and how to bandage a wound in critical situation. So, I was pretty health myself - as an example for kids and teenagers. However, taking stairs almost took me out, but I prevailed.
Luckily, my school was nearby, 8 minutes at brisk walk pace. You would think that if there is power outage, where would be no classes today. But 1) If outage was for a long time, we need to use schools as community gathering centers 2) It is not like we need electricity to give classes. We are not that rich to give pads or something to children - books here were still go-to. In other words - even if had to work only with sunlight, I still had my classes to give.
And only when I started walking to school I noticed something.
The mountains were gone.
See, our small city was located in Urals - so, the mountains were constantly giving us their monumental shadow. And now, they were gone.
I tried clearing my eyes, thinking maybe I was just too tired after this morning's exercise. But nope - mountains didn't appear.
A feeling of dread started creeping on me.
I sped up my walk to school and noticed a lot of people were headed to it too - both students and their parents alike. Some of these parents, I knew for sure, had an early morning jobs and should be on their way at this time of day.
I started running.
By the time I reached a school, a crowd was at school's yard. I saw our principal, Ursula Pavlovna - a stoic, 50-something woman, with stern gaze, endless love for children, and an utter hatred for people who tried to meddle in her school affairs. In other words - great woman.
She saw me approaching and waved me to come. People in crowd saw me too and started to give way - I was pretty known person around these parts and no one tried to block me.
Only when I approached the principal, I noticed that our local policemen were already here, as well as most of the school's stuff. Even Katya, the young, always late math teacher, was here - all anxious and all.
"So, anyone know where the mountains went? I know our city is not pretty, it is not that bad to just leave us"
I tried to discharge the situation a bit, but most people present just tensed up.
"No one knows anything" - Ursula Pavlovna replied. - "But considering how much education you need to be a government official these days, I doubt some of them will notice the difference even if these mountains fell on their heads. No offense, Alexei"
"None taken", - I replied. Before taking on the teacher's role, I was working for the government, but that is a story for another time.
And when, this happened.
A bright light started shining right above the city. It was brighter than the sun - but, strangely enough, it wasn't scorching even one bit. Then, the voice came:
"People of... " - a noise of shuffling papers started to come from the light.
"Krasnogranite!!!" - someone shouted from the crowd. I think it was a voice of Lenya, local prankster.
"Yes, thank you." - the voice replied. "So, people of Krasnogranite. I need to inform that due to a technical issue, caused by unseen consequences during an important magic experiment of our country, you were transported from your homeworld here.
Don't worry - our specialists are working as fast as possible to solve this incident. If all goes well, you will be home in no time!
For the time being, try no to leave the boundaries of your cities, which are now marked with the bright blue line. We don't hold responsibility for anything what happens to anyone who crosses this line.
Additional instructions and guidance will be provided later. We hope this situation will be resolved safely for everyone involved.
We apologize for the inconvenience caused by this incident. We ask for your patience until the matter is resolved. Thank you for your understanding.
Office of High Monarch Hurdun, team of magic related incidents.
Best regards,"
Aaaand the light was gone. Puff.
The silence was tangible in the school yard. Everyone was afraid to move and to utter even a single word.
"So," - Ursula Pavlovna broke the dread, - government officials are dicks here too, aren't they?"
Someone started laughing at it. Then I realized it was me. People started to join in too.
Yeah, we are maybe stuck in another world. There will be definitely a lot of problems, some even we never saw before.
But some of them were definitely too close to home.
|
It is opening night.
In the center of the fair a dragon cranes his long neck high above the rides, lets moonlight slide over his scales like a jug of milk being poured. Master, a humanoid bug in top hat and red waistcoat, standing by the dragon’s clawed feet, laughs and slaps his six hands together and says, “Let there be light!”
Flames spout into the air as if a rocket is taking off. The queue gathered at the fair’s entrance, gold-leaf tickets clutched protectively to their chests, whoop and clap. The fair is open.
Beatrice is not thirsty but will drink tonight regardless. She stands outside her tent, between the two cardboard-teeth that drape down around the entrance. She inhales and holds in her stomach, lets it out again. She’s getting plump and she knows it. It’s incredible, she thinks, how many people are willing to pay to have their blood drained by a vampire. What a dull world it is must be for such people to exist. She is not one of the more popular attractions, except perhaps with housewives fresh from a steamy novel, and yet there will be a steady stream of paying customers tonight. More blood than she wants.
Beatrice watches Harry rotate his shell in the distance. Harry, once a travelling shoe salesman in a different life, is a gigantic snail with benches screwed into his shell. Later, he will undulate his body and rotate his shell to win screams from visitors.
Another burst of flame. Every five minutes Randolph cascades fire into the sky, blue, red, white — a light show, shadows cast, faces illuminated momentarily, the cold winter air shocked into warmth.
Beatrice hears the chants from outside the ground. On the fair’s first night in any town, the protestors are as much of a specatacle as the fare itself. They are their own festival of bibles and microphones, bubbling anger and frothing wine. Even the non-religious preach against the satanic creatures within the walls. Creatures like her.
Visitors are marching through now. The night has begun in earnest. Children point and run from freakshow to freakshow as parents hurry after them like their kids are housecats escaped.
”Look like you want to be here, Beatrice,” master demands. She hadn’t seen him scuttle to her tent, but he stands there now, whip in hand. She’s never seen him use it but wouldn’t be surprised if he had.
”I’m a vampire,” she retorts. ”They like us moody.”
”Well I like you seductive, smiling. Understand? You’re prettier when you smile.”
She understands well enough. There is nowhere else in this world for creatures like them. Without the security that comes from being part of this wandering pack, this bizarre family, there is only death. They are loathed as much as they are adored, often more so. If the master kicks her out it would be a death sentence.
Besides, where would she get her blood from? She can’t bear the thought of taking it from the unwilling.
Beatrice has her first customers. She bites neck after neck, careful to leave a twisted toothy imprint — a souvenir most desirable — and careful not to take too much for fear of bloating early. Still, the blood gives her a buzz and she lets herself enjoy this first night in town.
Giant Sarah strides by Beatrice’s tent on her break. She bends down, hand on back, and peels open the flap. “All good, Bee?”
Beatrice looks at Giant Sarah’s feet, mostly because that’s all she can see of the huge woman. They are blistered and bandaged, toes like smashed boulders. “What’s he had you doing, Sarah?”
”What’s he not?”
Beatrice knows she’s set up half the fair herself. Did most of the heavyy moving, as well as running the helter-skelter, constantly bending to pick up children and adults alike who want to ride the whirling slide.
”You need to take it easy,” says Beatrice.
The tent flaps fell back in place. “Yeah. I know,” drifts Sarah’s resigned voice as the ground rocks. “We all do.”
There are each under the same threat. Of being kicked out of their supposed family. But what can they do? Master saved them all. He’d gathered them, the freaks that they’d become, once they’d woken in this world. He’d been the one to come up with a plan that would keep them safe, had made deals with land owners to allow their fair to tour and set up.
Safe. Kept them all safe.
But not truly.
Beatrice doesn’t know his real name. No one does. He is the master of ceremonies, he said, and that was all.
Beatrice closes a little early tonight and stands outside her tent, watches her friends — the dragon forced to breathe fire on clockwork as his throat tears itself to ribbons,
She is careful as she meanders through the fair a few moments later, blends in with last visitors, navy hoody shading her face. She has never been in master’s caravan before, but tonight she creeps inside. He’s out by Tara the yeti now, who is gluing back hair that’s falling out in tufts under the stress.
Beatrice rifles through every drawer in the caravan, breaks open suitcases. It has to end, she thinks. They are being treated like animal, not a family. It’s time for the truth.
But there is no truth to find. Not in here. What was she expecting anyway? A diary saying his evil scheme of working them all to death is going wonderfully. Idiot, she thinks.
She’s about to leave when the door bursts open and master walks in. His eyes roam over the scene methodically, as if he’s ironing a shirt with his gaze.
He settles on Beatrice. “You’re done. I knew we shouldn’t have kept a vampire. Especially once you got fat. I want you out, tonight.”
In her old life she was married, had a child. She had love. In this life she has only misery.
Rage. She dives at master. She buries her teeth into his neck, cracking through carapace. He screams but the dragon fire outside is roaring louder.
She pulls her mouth away, smears his blood from off her lips, then gazes into his eyes. She’s only done this a handful of times before, and even then she wasn’t sure if it they were lucky guesses or she really did see into their minds.
This time she concentrates with her entire being. His pupils grow, the black water pooling deeper, wider. And she begins to see.
She sees him as young man in a different life. Sees him full of hate for the world but cannot see why. Sees a lust for control that he can never have. He is reading esoteric ancient texts, those about moving on, past lives and new lives, controlled reincarnation.
He is studying how to make bombs.
He is looking at maps. Areas densely populated. It does not matter to him who lives there, whose lives he’s ripping away, whose families are being deprived. Density, ease of access, that’s what matters.
She watches his grinning face as he sets the explosives.
It’s enough for her.
In a frezy she goes for his neck again. She will not stop though. She is a leech. She will take it all until master is a dried out husk.
​
Three nights later, with master still missing and presumed to have left the fair — perhaps run off with some local — the attractions pack themselves up and ready to move. Beatrice does not know whether to tell them what she found out, let alone what she did. Would it help them?
There is more laughter in the air than on usual leaving nights, more hope, Beatrice thinks. No one forced into roles, everyone simply working together.
|
Kriegschwein
|
Rupertfroggington
|
2023-01-31 15:11:44
|
2023-01-31 15:06:03
| 175 | 61 |
j6n806k
|
j6n75c9
|
10pyb4o
|
10pyb4o
|
[WP] "You gaze upon your crushed army and my massed forces, why do you smile?". The captured general looked to the cloudless sky before answering "Because it's about to rain"
|
The warlord looks at me as if I were a madman. I don't even know his name, I did not bother learning it. There were countless like him before, there will be countless after.
"Rain!? There's not a cloud in sight!"
He doesn't understand. No matter. They never understand at first. In the end, they all learn... eventually. All of them learn too late.
Suddenly, a drop. Then another. Still no clouds in sight. The thick, black liquid lazily runs down my face and into my grinning mouth. My wounds heal as black rain hits the ground around us, coming from seemingly nowhere, like black tears falling from a weeping god's face.
An eery silence spreads across the battlefield. Not silence as the absence of sound, but something... more profound. More tangible. A thick blanket of despair suffocating every sound in its wake.
The warlord attacks me in a panic. I don't move. Wounds do not matter to me. My fallen army rises around us again. The sword is pushed out of my body by my own regenerating flesh.
"It is always the same story," my voice reverberates through the silence, sounding like the echo of thousands of voices at once. "There's always a war, there's always an arrogant ass in charge... And there's always a cleansing..."
He tries to talk, but no words will come out. They're too scared of being swallowed by the silence.
"War, my boy, isn't a glorious matter. It is trauma after trauma. It is suffering in silence. I should know, it __is__ my domain after all."
Understanding creeps across his face, followed by despair.
"Now, it is my thankless job to remind humanity of this yet again."
My immortal army charges, myself included. Today, an empire will fall. Eventually, it will enter the realm of myths, nothing more than a cautionary tale, like all the others before. Maybe, just maybe, this time, they will learn. Maybe, just maybe, this time, I can rest. For good.
|
"You fool , you incompetent Fool. Did you really believe that your feeble army could defeat my Forces?" krull the Conqueror shouts spreading his arms wide in the air. Krull continues. "You and this mess, came out here to the middle of no-where. Built this , this, " Krull pointing at the timber battlements at his feet. " This Pitiful excuse for a Fort. Made of timbers placed upon a small knoll in the middle of a arid plain. With this very tall metal flag pole. With what, a smiling happy face of black ink on a Yellow back ground. "
Krull the Irate, struts over and with a swinging back hand smashes his metal gloved hand against my face. My ears ring, I felt that one.
"You imbecil did you really think your paucity army could do anything to stop My elite Forces of Evil. "
Krull the Enraged, grabs my chin with one hand and points at the Carnage of the battle field with his other hand. "Look , I said Look Fool! Your army lays crushed, mangled and broken. Look at this, you meet us what? What as your tactic? I do say your men fought fiercely to the very last man. But you are supposed to be this great General. You had only men in the front ranks armed only with Axe or clubs , with the front rank alone having wooden shields, WOOD Shields! For some reason the very rear ranks were armed only with spears. NO Armor you did not give any of your men armor, and all the ranks were circled around a 10 foot high timber wall encircling this small knoll with the timber battlement upon it. And only you standing atop this Battlement. "
Krull the Incredulous, Kicks me in the side. again waving his arms around. "Look Fool, look at my glorious Force circled around me and your little knoll fort. Merely one day of fighting and we defeated you and yours. "
Krull the Praiseworthy , raises his arms skyward again and shouts " VICTORY!" his forces all begin shouting victory, victory victory!.
I look directly at Krull from my kneeling position at his guards and officers feet. a Big smile on my bloody face.
Krull the Victor , looks at me and says "You gaze upon your crushed army and my Massed forces, why do you smile?"
I then look at the cloudless sky, and chuckle a bit, "My Army and I have served our purpose, My men were all convicts granted pardons and their families each received gifts. Just so long as the men here today stood and fought to the last man. You and your forces are here and NOW at this exact SPOT. and it's about to Rian."
Krull the Slow-Witted, stares at me in disbelief. "So what it is raining, I will still march my forces to your city and take the extraordinary magic powder from your stores. No one can stop me now."
I begin laughing as more and more rain comes down, thunder rumbles. "Oh maybe you should have asked, the powder you seek is being stored right here under these timbers. But we don't call it magic powder, we call it Black Powder."
Krull the Dismissive, waves his hand " Black Magical hat difference does it Make?"
Just then a Lighten bolt strikes the flag pole. And 10 tons of Black Powder ignite at once. KABLAAM
The mage and his assistant watch from a distance. The assistant says "That as the Biggest lighten bolt you have conjurer Yet. "
The Mage replies to his youth assistant, "" It needed to be , for the sacrifice of all those men. No get down, lay flat and cover your ears.
A very large mushroom cloud of reds and yellow fire rises into the sky.
|
Lantami
|
mutantrecon
|
2024-05-12 20:00:02
|
2024-05-12 19:51:37
| 64 | 18 |
l3r5q6f
|
l3r4f0h
|
1cq30ns
|
1cq30ns
|
[WP] A human ship activated its self destruct sequence when boarded by an enemy, when humanity was asked why would we do such a thing by the galactic community, we simply responded "We don't give up the ship, such as the crews of old. We never give up the ship."
|
Part I - "You don't understand what you are doing," the human diplomat said to the Galactic Forum. "We come in peace, wishing only to trade. Do not make this mistake."
The quorum of sentient species comprising the Galactic Forum scoffed at the newcomer. They were representatives of thousands of worlds, blessed with technological marvels that this primitive upstart mammal could not fathom! It was just one more race to be enslaved, to serve the Council as it saw fit.
Two large saurian Q'uel'eth, bulky and imposing, moved up on the human diplomat and seized his arms, even while the Speaker for the Council advanced upon him with a strange glowing red tool. "Let me be the first to welcome you to the way of the Galactic Council, primate!" he said, cackling. Then he pressed the glowing red tool to the human's arm, branding him.
The human screamed in pain. When his vision cleared, on his arm was the number 000 000 000 001.
"You don't understand what you've done," the man said past tears. "My people have a phrase: 'Never Again.' May God have mercy on your souls."
- _ -
Aboard the USC Schindler, parked as it was outside the Galactic Council's audience building, the ship's AI awoke to a health alert. It reviewed its diplomat's last five minutes of activity, then did the electronic equivalent of a doubletake and did a high-speed review of the diplomat's entire experience since disembarking.
Failsafes tripped. Alarms rang. The AI uploaded itself and its diplomat's entire sensory experience to a stealthed message torpedo in orbit which they'd placed when they'd arrived. The torpedo accelerated to speed and vanished into hyperspace.
That job complete, it surveyed the situation. Its diplomat seized, hostile ship-breakers approaching to seize and board its ship, an act of barbarism committed upon a diplomat during peacetime by representatives of a planetary government, it had only one recourse.
"Never again." It meant many things and one thing only. The AI disengaged safeties on its antimatter reactor (it was an unarmed diplomatic craft, after all) and created a new, temporary sun where the capital of the Galactic Council used to be.
|
"Status Report!" The Captain calls as he coughs on the foul smoke spreading through the Con. His helmet is still open to preserve what air he has if they lose pressure or the air finally becomes too foul to breathe.
"Engines out. Main weapons out. Point defense is 50%. Shields out. Enemy boarding parties are on their way." The ensign who took over for the Exec when everyone else went down did a good job of describing a ship that could no longer fight.
"All Hands!"
"All Hands, Aye!"
"This is the Captain. Abandon Ship. I Say Again. Abandon Ship. Pick up your mates and GET OFF MY SHIP! You have until the enemy reaches the bridge. Abandon Ship!" He mashes the abandon ship alarm button, which blares everywhere on the ship except the bridge. Everyone here already knows what to do. "Ensign, get the bridge crew to the escape pods."
Taking the time to do it right, the young Ensign salutes his Captain for the final time. They both know the tradition and as sick as it makes the Ensign to leave his Captain behind, he knows his Captain would never accept being evacuated. He has one final duty.
"God Speed, Eddie, now go."
"God go with you, Captain."
The bridge crew checks all the fallen for life signs, there are few, but those few go to the lifeboats.
The Captain remains, entering data on his console, setting up something he's never used before and never wanted to. While he works, he reflects that at least those of the crew still alive will have a chance to fight another day. The lifeboats *do* have a small FTL engine good for a short burst. Assuming that the Fleet Rendevous is still secure, they'll come out of warp right into the hands of the finest rescue teams in the Universe. As he works, the ship shudders at odd moments, lifeboats, finally filled, launching. Completing his work on the bridge, the captain makes for Aux Con.
The computer announces, "Port Forward Lock Breached. Intruder Alert. Internal Defense Active." The enemy has learned, but so has Humanity. They're coming in on the shortest path to the bridge, Multiple lifeboats launch, and the computer announces, "Enemy fire on lifeboats ineffective, all boats launched, all boats clear." At least the Captain will have that much solace; however badly the battle went, the survivors have escaped. There is one last shudder, softer than the others, and the computer announces, "Recording buoy away."
All but one.
Reaching Aux Con, he seals all the hatches in the ship, cutting the enemy into penny packets, making them easier meat for the intruder defense systems. It doesn't take long for the enemy to breach the blast doors and start taking down the defenses. The bridge is taken, The Captain could wait until they reached Aux Con, but with the crew away, and no more enemy troops coming aboard, the smart move is to keep the enemy from learning anything from their computers.
Listening in to the shipwide comm circuit, he can hear the enemy bitching that all but a few stupid computers have been wiped. That's right, you bastards, you don't get anything from *my* ship. Punching for All Hands, the captain makes his final statement.
"Sayonara, suckers."
The detonation of the ship includes all the remaining power supplies and weapons that they could not expend. By chance, a chunk of the armor blasts free on the side the enemy ship is closest to, slamming into it and doing terrible damage. A secondary explosion aboard the enemy ship guts it.
Other enemy ships close in and vaporize the remains of the Human ship. A waste of energy and warheads, there's nothing left except floating metal chunks.
((continued))
|
LateralThinker13
|
spindizzy_wizard
|
2023-05-02 18:40:20
|
2023-05-02 18:28:50
| 55 | 38 |
jilhhdz
|
jilfqln
|
1354r1x
|
1354r1x
|
[WP] After your death you are sent to hell and find out that an alliance formed of Hitler, Genghis Khan, Caligula and Henry VIII have overthrown Satan. Write about the afterlife under the new regime.
|
“I’m afraid not, darling.”
“What? But everyone always said… .”
“I’m afraid I am aware of all my children and you are not among them. Tromdor was a mighty hero, yes. If his portraits are true than I have no doubt you are his daughter. But I am not your mother. How could I be, when I never got a chance to meet him before his death against the dragon king Elisandax?”
“Never even met?” Elle muttered, her world crashing down around her. “But I look so much like you?”
The Queen grimaced quickly before it vanished behind her teacup. “Coincidence, I’m sure.”
Elle narrowed her eyes. “I think you know something.”
“And I think that you, girl, have forgotten exactly who it is you’re speaking with. Do not take my benevolence for granted.”
“My apologies.” Elle quickly replied as she stood up, trying not to think too hard about the new revelations. There would be time to cry alone later. “I think I’ve burrowed enough of your time, Your Majesty. Thank you for setting the record straight.”
“Of course, dear.”
—————————-
“I can see you in her. The best parts of you.” The Queen remarked alone to an out of the way unmarked headstone in the royal graveyard, some old portraits from the past in her arms.
“I considered telling her, but it’s for the best if she doesn’t know, isn’t burdened with the knowledge of what her mother did. Not knowing might hurt her, but it’s for the best this way. Tales of the mighty Sorceress that Tromdor fought are legendary after all and there are many who feel he robbed them of their chance for revenge.”
She looked down at the oldest one, from when she was young, of the two identical girls. A later one where the girls were still identical in looks, but increasingly different in garb and how they carried themselves.
“Perhaps it’s cliche to say that girl is the best thing you did, sis, but no one is around to hear me do so. I’ll keep an eye on her.”
|
A shrill of amusement came from the woman's smile. "Come now darling, you can't be serious."
"What?"
"You think that I slept with who now, that disgusting pig." *Scoff* "Please, I would never sleep with such an insufferable man, and especially wouldn't conceive such an ugly thing. I'm sorry, I should apologize, but no. This is just too depressing. What kind of loser spends all that time looking for his mother, and for some reason comes upon the idea that it was me. I mean seriously now. How could you even believe such a thing? I should've known something was off. The incessant nonstop phone calls, and the paragraphs of emails sent to my assistant. I should've just reported you for harassment to the police, and not give you the time of day. Look, I don't know who told you such a stupid lie, but it's best from now on you stop chasing fairy tales."
She put a hand over her lips and tried holding back something with all her might.
"Thank you, for you time."
"Tell Jess... Tell Jessica I'm ready for my 3 pm appointment on your way out."
I nodded before I got up and left. As soon as I closed the door the howling fits of laughter came from it.
I walked past the receptionist.
"Did you need any other help today sir?"
"No. Thank you. For trying to help me out."
"Of course sir, have a good day."
I stepped outside the corporate high rise and look out at the world. Buses, and taxis drove pass. They honked their horns at each other in annoyance. People milled about like ants in a garden. Searching for food, clothes, whatever necessities it might be to get through the day.
A giant screen showcased the man who I thought was my father. Imperator. American flag blowing in the wind with a Coca-Cola in his hand. A Ford pick up truck was in the forefront while the background was lined with a forest of evergreen pines. I tucked my head down and walked back to my apartment.
I can't believe I thought for a second it was true. Everything I had told myself, every hopeful thought. Every hopeful feeling was built on a brittle bridge of lies that had fallen apart from the tiniest gust of winds. I never listened to them. Everyone who told me I was crazy. That I was a fool to believe such a stupid thing, and I pinched my ears and believed what I wanted to believe.
I walked through the screen door, past the torn up sofa and rotting hardwood floor towards the back bathroom. I stared in front of the mirror gazing at the reflection. A sense of discomfort overtook me.
How could I have live in such a state of disillusion for so long. My reflection held the truth. An unyielding honesty I could no longer ignore.
"I'm such an idiot."
My fist crashed against the mirror. Trickles of red blood oozed from cuts that had serrated my hand, and formed small rivers running down until drip by drip hit the white sink. Pain erupted throughout my arms. It wanted me to scream and cry. To just ball up into a corner, and turn the world off for a moment. But it didn't matter. None of it did.
The world is cruel, and there's not a place in it for a fool like me.
​
​
Prompt was a little hard to write. It's very challenging to make a convincing story that's not so depressing about this topic. His or her world's entire life is upending. I had one loving parent, so it's hard for me to conceive something like this, but I enjoyed writing it. Made me think outside the box. Thanks again for the idea.
|
deadcommand
|
ReplyEnvironmental88
|
2023-08-28 20:53:24
|
2023-08-28 14:48:28
| 76 | 51 |
jy53ewo
|
jy3gq6t
|
163mph1
|
163mph1
|
[WP]You reincarnated in a fantasy world, but when you go check your stats, everything seems to be really average, until you put your eyes on charisma, that is on 200 points
|
"My queen!"
"Sup?"
"General Hawthorne of the Iron Legion is here on behalf of the Asmati Kingdom."
"Oh, cool. Show him in."
A tall, burly man covered in scars walked in. His armour, his bearing, his eyes - it all showed decades of military experience. A man that did not know defeat.
"Queen Dahlia," Hawthorne hissed.
"Hey. What brings you here?"
"I have ten thousand of my most decorated warriors waiting outside of your town. I have come to negotiate your surrender. Do the honourable thing; yield and save the lives of your people."
I looked at him carefully.
"No, I don't think I will."
Hawthorne's eyes narrowed.
"Then you will die," he growled.
"I guess I'll just, dunno, have to fight you then."
Hawthorne gasped and his eyes widened with sheer, unbridled terror. The utterance of those words, the assured tone, the way the sentence carried itself through the air - he never knew such fear. He knew he stood no chance.
"Say," I said, "do *you* want to surrender?"
He drew his sword with trembling fingers and threw it on the ground, sweat running down his forehead.
"Alright, cool," I said contently. "So I assume the, uh, uh..." I clicked my tongue a few times.
"Asmati Kingdom, my queen," my adjutant reminded me.
"Right! Cheers, mate. So I assume the Asmati Kingdom is going to become our vassal? Is that right, general?"
"Y- yes, your highness. I shall dispatch my messengers immediately. "
"Neat," I nodded. It reminded me of the time I gained control over my current kingdom.
Walked up to the king and asked.
*Nicely*.
|
On mobile so please excuse any formatting issues.
With a start and a gasp I could feel every single part of my body as if I had woken up from an excessively long nap. Sitting up and clearing my vision I could see I was in a vast forest with a small lake ahead of me, much different than my small suburban town.
My attempts had been fruitful! I had been trying to get reincarnated into a fantasy world but I was too poor to get the treatment. Thankfully digging through the archives I found another much simpler way involving a mythical creature known as “Truck - kun”.
Following the ritual and invoking the creature I blacked out after experiencing a shock of pain I had never felt before. Pushing that past experience out of my head I knew exactly what to do.
“Menu.” An opaque screen popped in front of me. My body froze and from my peripheral I could see so did the rest of the world.
The choices were ‘resume’, ‘options’, and ‘stats’. Digging through with my mental choices I found that options were the run of the mill subtitles and other quality of life choices as well as detailing how to call the other menus.
Stats had the juicy deets I was looking for though. Strength, wisdom, charisma, arcana, constitution, and intelligence were all there. Looking through each I saw that the stats were represented on a base 1000 system. Each stat read around 500-600 but my charisma score was reading only 200 with a warning symbol next to it.
Selecting the warning symbol I read ‘deformity or excessive damage detected. Please seek professional medical assistance to return number to previous total.’
I closed out of the menu and dug through the rest of the menus having garb appear onto my body instantly. All the while feeling a dull pain on my right side.
Finally I attempted to stand only to fall back on my but in excessive pain from my right leg. In the flurry of information I hadn’t even taken a look at what my body looked like. Slowly looking up from my feet I noticed that my left side was fairly normal but my right side shook me.
Gnarled is the word that immediately came to mind seeing my leg. My foot was at a permanent 45 degree angle and right knee was facing my left. No skin was broke and no blood was gushing. Almost as if I was born this way or whatever injury I had gotten completely healed this way. Any attempts to move them gave me waves of pain. My gaze climbing higher I found that my right arm had also taken a significant beating and shared the same unbloodied and skin covered appearance. The fingers twisted unnaturally and my elbow was facing front.
I crawled my way to the lake and looked at its reflective waters to confirm my fear. The right side of my face had a flatness to it that had caused my eye to bulge and my face to be longer on that side.
I understood now why the procedure existed. Why there were warnings of trying other methods.
I returned to my back and looked at the clear blue sky.
I just wish any one of those warnings would have told me that how you left the previous world is how you entered the next.
|
SirPiecemaker
|
Tojm
|
2023-01-06 17:24:05
|
2023-01-06 16:07:30
| 715 | 39 |
j37v8ft
|
j37imbq
|
104txuo
|
104txuo
|
[WP] Take a normally boring activity, but make it sound exciting.
|
The last living thing come to him, finally, Death took a last look at the world. How much it had changed since its birth. Despite its apparent precarity, how much it had resisted him. Volcanoes had ruptured, spooling lines of decorative glow down the planet's face, and the seas had risen, glossing the still green landmasses beneath in a glinting ever-shifting blue. There was no doubting its beauty, Death knew, despite his resentment. Death sighed and turned his back on a destiny fulfilled and peered forward at the endless black he would now traverse, with the hope of one day finding himself.
“And where are you off to?” said a voice behind Death.
Death turned to find a sand corpus, drifting upwards and downwards within itself but retaining a humanoid image. The sound near where the beings mouth vibrated as it spoke.
It continued, “What a tragically boring ending. Truly. Frankly, I’m not a huge fan of endings, though, sometimes they’re fun if you know another beginning is just around the horizon. That’s what I’ve come to tell you, dear Death. You think you're finished here?”, said the sand.
“And you are?” asked Death, impatient at what seemed to be a final defiance from something that appeared unkillable.
“Time, of course.”
“Right. Time,” said Death, exasperated. “Well I suppose we’re going to get to know each other well. We might be all each other has from here on. Might as well start off on the right foot. I’m finished here, thankfully. I’m off to look for any last vestige of life. Germs, creepy crawlers, crabs, and the like. I like to keep track, make sure they don’t get out of hand. Earth was a nightmare of an oversight.”
“And what a good job you’re doing. Truly commendable work, Death, but, you see: things get incredibly boring with nothing to watch. Maybe you could leave a colony of dust mites, or a culture of germs. For me?”
“No.”
“Oh, but come on. We do need a little drama, don’t we? Else what am I to do, sit here and stare at nothing the rest of infinite everything?”
“Sure, I don’t know. You don’t have eyes.”
“Touche.”
“Look, I’ll do my best to make the Death of everything interesting at least. Give you something to chew on for eternity. Ta-ta now.” Death walked past the sand, which at the rejection of its request had regressed to a lump of nothing sitting, piddling back and forth, and past the Earth. Just as both were about to be out of view, Death’s leg stopped moving. Or rather, he couldn’t move it. Or rather, he could, but slowly. So slowly that Death’s soul was likely to leave his form before his sole left the ground. The sand trickled past his bony feet and formed once more in front of him.
“I tried,” time vibrated.
Death still could not move, but a blur of motion appeared in front of him. The distant dots of starlight blended into thick lines of radiance and drew lines of perfect curvature across the blank canvas of space. New pins of light rose, drew a line, and faded, over and over again until as if at once, dust coalesced around Death and Time, forming a small planet. A rock of hellfire and virgin gray stone. It spun and looked at Death, threatening, daring in its glare. Until, eventually, the gray stone became covered in glistening waves, and the remaining rock grew a spot of virulent green that blanketed every crevice.
“What have you done,” Death asked, shaking.
“I’ve given you work. Purpose. You should thank me,” Time said, as the grains split into a thousand-million lines, and disbursed leisurely in each direction, leaving Death with the new ball.
Death felt his finger tips pushing into his palms, a wash of hot rage at his face. He stared at the new planet with disdain. Death saw a creature, a pathetic misshapen struggling thing, pull itself from the ocean to the soft sand of untrodden beaches. He hated it, or at least he’d remembered hating it. This time it was so simple, pure. It had none of the contradiction or faux purposefulness that had ended the Earth. Without avarice, villainy, mistakenness, constructed narrativizing, it was only alive and nothing more. The blob-like limbed fish wanted only one thing: life. Continuance. Perfectly defiant of Death and without pretence. A small smile forced its way to the ends of Death’s mouth. Perhaps this he could allow. If just for a time.
|
So that’s all she wrote folks. After millennia upon millennia of doing a good job I am now faced with the reality of my situation, one any hard working immortal is bound to run into eventually. I light my stygian cigarette as I kick my feet up on the table before me. I don’t even spare the empty room around a glance as I lean back in my chair at a precarious angle. I chuckle and say “what’s the worst that could happen? I fall and break my neck?” To emphasize my point I give the table a little wiggle with one of my boots.
The joke was bad but it was nice to hear a voice again, even if it was my own raspy baritone echoing around these empty halls.
“Careful Azzy, you know there’s legions betting on how you’ll finally pass on and I’d lose a bundle if you died to that chair there.” The voice that broke the silence was strange, but it came from no stranger. I scrambled to regain my footing and barely managed to save both my smoke and my neck in the mad scramble to plant my feet on the ground. My heart was pounding after my near death experience but I regained my composure quickly and slicked my hair back into place while I took a deep drag from my cigarette, buying myself some time before having to respond to the suited figure across from me.
Making sure to relax, I let my eyes roam from the table up to the dashing gentleman across from me. His hair and suit were both impeccable, his handsome features and smug smirk in stark contrast to my own t-shirt, jeans, and shaggy hair.
I finished my drag and tapped the ashes into one of the empty beer glasses lining my table before saying “fancy seeing you here Lucy, at the end of the world. Figured a big shot like you would be busy considering the earth just died.”
The perfect being before me tutted condescendingly while he shook his head at me. “Come now Azzy, you of all beings should know by now that an ending to one story is just the beginning of another.” His small smirk grew to a vicious slash of a grin at that and even my jaded ass had to lean in at those words. “Don’t you fuck with me Lucy, I just finished moving *millions* of souls after The Big Man’s last call. He put me in charge of death and decided to wipe the Earth of life… again!”
It was hard to keep the bitter resentment out of my voice while my hand curled into a fist. So hard in fact, I didn’t even bother to try. And that only seemed to amuse the handsome devil even further. He stood up after that, glancing at me with a gleam in his eyes as he looked down. “Aren’t you sick of this by now Azzy? This is what He does everytime. He plays with the magic of Creation. He shapes and he makes and he fills the Earth with life just so we can fawn over it for a few thousand years until he gets bored and wipes it all out again.” He pauses and I take my chance to snap a fresh beer into existence so I could wash the taste of smoke down with another swig.
Finally the pretty bastard turns his attention back to me and plants his hands on the table while he leans in and continues his propaganda speech. “Well I’m sick of it Azzy. And here’s the thing, The Big Man is already getting ready for his next project.”
That… that gave me pause. I haven’t heard any plans for more life. After all smiting an entire planet with a cosmic rock seems like a pretty final solution. My heart strings still tugged at the thought of all those lives snuffed out on His whim. Again.
“I know you Azzy.” He said while taking his seat again. “I know you hate having to do this shit. I know you care about them and I know you’re tired of watching Him clear the board instead of finishing the game. So I come to you as the bearer of news. The Big Man’s new project is… man. He’s really going to do it this time.”
My heart skipped a beat. It couldn’t be true. “Lucy, you mean…” he didn’t even let me finish. He interjected quickly with a manic glint in his eye he leaned forward and said “yes Azzy! In His image this time. No more giant bugs or lizards! No more horrific Leviathans to patrol the seas. In this new world it will be man kind walking the Earth.”
My heart fell at his words. My job was already so hard. Would He really do this to me? Why would He make more beings in his image when he knows our immortality has led to so many problems. From ancient souls begging me to release them from His service with the sweet peace of eternal death, to the rogues that have left our Plane to get away from it all. Why would he make a planet of us?
But I didn’t have to wonder for long. Good ol Lucifer here came to me with all the answers as he usually does. He was a hell of a talker, and he loved hearing that silky smooth tone of his echo across my empty halls. “But this time Azzy, he’s making them mortal.”
Another bomb shell that. “Mortals… in His image, with his powers?”
“No Azzy! That’s the thing here, he’s stripping them of their divinity! This time he’s going to put them on that rock and just wait and see what they do with nothing more than their free will. It will be a God Damned tragedy.”
A chill went down my spine as I pondered the implication of old Lucy’s words. The untold suffering I would have to witness. The countless lives that will die in misery if He goes through with this.
“Lucy… He can’t. I-I can’t keep doing this.”
His hand fell to my shoulder, a comforting touch at the end of the world.
“Don’t worry Azrael.” He said it with such confidence I had to believe him when I looked up into his eyes. “I have a plan. This time He’s gone too far. We will save his new people. These new souls won’t be at His mercy, they will be more than just a science experiment to Me. But I need your help to pull it off my old friend.”
I sat there for a moment, pondering as I watched the smoke curl away from my cigarette. Finally I looked back into Lucy’s eyes and said “Tell me more, oh brother mine.”
|
philisophist
|
Sir_Nassif
|
2025-04-06 16:00:04
|
2025-04-06 15:53:57
| 25 | 18 |
mlptayd
| null |
ddywg4
|
1jsnx8l
|
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