prompt
string | chosen_story
string | rejected_story
string | chosen_username
string | rejected_username
string | chosen_timestamp
string | rejected_timestamp
string | chosen_upvotes
int64 | rejected_upvotes
int64 | chosen_comment_id
string | rejected_comment_id
string | chosen_reddit_post_id
string | rejected_reddit_post_id
string |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
[WP] You're the first test subject for an experimental super soldier serum. You are told the truth only after you transform into something not quite human anymore.
|
I was wrong.
My body felt fundamentally wrong. I don’t know what they did, but it wasn’t what I signed up for. I was supposed to be here for a few blood tests, some small genetic research for some gene abnormality I had. I thought they were giving me some local anesthetic.
Whatever they had done to me was strange. I was suddenly uncomfortable in my own skin. Colors were much brighter and sounds were much louder.
I looked down at my body. My clothes were all the same. Looking at my shirt now I had never noticed that one stain at the bottom. I could feel each of the shirts fibers against myself. I didn’t like the feeling.
I then counted my fingers. Two pinkies, middles, indexes, rings……
Where were my thumbs?
Suddenly my head exploded in pain. I dropped to the floor only vaguely aware of a figure in a white coat scurrying into the room. There was something in his hand. I tried to look at him, but the lights were all a bit too bright now. I squeezed my eyes shut. The light was starting to hurt. It started to burn.
I didn’t understand, I just wanted to know what was going on. I asked them, the one in the room with me. I looked up with blurred vision and attempted to speak but my tongue felt off. Suddenly I realized i couldn’t open my mouth. I wanted to know what was happening, what they did to me, why I was feeling like this. A gasp rang out from the figure I know know to be a woman.
“How can it speak with no mouth?” I was speechless. I may not have told them my pronouns but I damn sure knew they had my medical records. Why was this woman calling me an it.
The pain had lessened during this little exchange but suddenly it was back full force. I clenched my jaw and shut my eyes. My forehead felt like it was splitting in two. The pain got worse and worse and worse…
Until it got better.
I opened my eyes and I could feel the skin of my forehead splitting open. I turned to look at where i last saw the woman, but she had since fainted. Phantom pains traveled through my body in waves but i dragged myself over to her. My body had never felt so heavy before.
She was still breathing. I could hear her heartbeat from where i was sitting and it was normal, a little accelerated but nothing she had to worry about. Then i saw the clipboard.
I grabbed it from the floor. Just when had my arm gotten so long? My name was listed over the top of the page, the rest of it was gibberish about some soldier serum 1 trials. That couldn’t be true. Stuff like that only happens in the movies. What had these people done to me.
As i read further I realized that they were serious. That gene abnormality I had was supposed to do something for the tests they were conducting but obviously its not going well. I got to the last. Page and froze.
Splashed across the last page were observations about my behavior. Unpredictable, extreme growth, receded thumbs were all scattered across the page. At the bottom of the page I saw it. Two checkboxes, one labeled success and the other labeled exterminate.
Exterminate was checked but a note was handwritten at the bottom, ‘keep for further testing’.
They wanted to kill me?
They wanted me dead?
I looked up desperately, searching for anyone else to speak to about this. I wanted them to tell me it was a lie. I didn’t want to die, I didn’t want any of this. I was angry, utterly enraged at the notion.
Did they think they could just get rid of me?
Did they think that this was gonna be easy?
Did they think that I would not fight?
They can’t kill me, I wasn’t going to let them. I guess now we’ll see just who gets exterminated.
|
# Soulmage
**Anyone else would have questioned the number of guards around the simple bed.** Six witches, two ambassadors from the Eldritch Initiative, and four disgruntled-looking young soldiers with shortswords surrounded Iola as he sauntered towards the center of the room.
But Iola felt good about this. He always felt good—he was just an upbeat kind of person—but the power that the Eldritch Initiative had promised him was so close he could almost taste it.
Wait, no, that was blood. He'd bitten his tongue in excitement. Oh, well, it was far from the first time.
"Now be warned, the process is currently irreversible." Iola had to work around quite a few bureaucratic loops in order to get here—teenagers were *not* supposed to become experimental extradimensional entities. But the man in front of him didn't recognize Iola, and Iola didn't recognize him. "This is your last chance to back out."
The corners of Iola's lips twitched. "Things always work out for me," he said. "I'm quite happy where I am, thank you very much."
The man shrugged. "Well, a test subject is a test subject. Do you have the sample?" He asked, turning towards the ambassador.
The vaguely humanoid puppet of flesh held out... Iola craned his neck, curious. What was that, some kind of potted plant? It was gnarled and ancient and *boring*, so Iola didn't bother thinking about it any further. "You will have to perform the infection yourself, of course."
The man nodded. "For your own safety, please lie down on the—ah, there you go." He came forward, holding the potted plant. "This should only take a moment."
Iola stared at the ceiling, humming to himself, excited for the changes. Would there be a surge of strength as his muscles grew? Ooh, would he sprout razor-sharp claws and wings? Or a fire-breathing snout and powerful jaws?
But the changes were not so... physical.
The anticipation turned andric as Iola's expression contorted, the upbeat joy he constantly felt sickening into varination. Iola's eyes bulged as his neurons were rewired, the new emotions coursing through his mind as familiar and human as chyme was to water.
And then it was done. Though not a single fiber of his perfectly-combed hair was out of place, someone else looked out from behind Iola's eyes.
"Infection complete," the man reported. "Tell me, Iola. How do you feel?"
Iola worked its jaw, twisting it this way and that, until it settled into a dorceless gape.
"I feel humber," Iola said, and the pulsating of his eyes confirmed it. "I feel *good.*"
A.N.
This story is part of Soulmage, a story written in response to writing prompts. Check out the rest of the story [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/bubblewriters/comments/uxmwe4/soulmage_masterpost/), or r/bubblewriters for more.
|
Mindless_Company_833
|
meowcats734
|
2023-08-06 00:59:02
|
2023-08-06 00:14:29
| 64 | 26 |
juz088p
|
juyuk2l
|
15j8mzq
|
15j8mzq
|
[WP] You and your soulmate are stuck in a cycle of reincarnation, but you managed to find each other every single time. In this life, you finally managed to track them down… only to learn they started a happy family with someone else.
|
It's painful. Oh, so painful.
Daedes, the guardian of Tartarus, God of Retribution, son of Hades and Persephone, and... lovesick god.
He still remembered the first time he'd ever seen him, Eleon, a young priest of Hades. The boy was beautiful, kind, and graceful, preaching death as a gift for the kind and a punishment for the evil. The only priest of Hades to offer anything to Daedes. Most people feared Daedes, refused to acknowledge him worshipping his sister Elysia instead, the Goddess of Reward and keeper of the Elysian fields.
Daedes watched from afar for fear of frightening Eleon. That is, until bandits tried to ransack the temple.
As soon as one of those beasts tried to lay a hand on Eleon, Daedes destroyed them, dragging them down to the pits for their sentence.
Eleon was still shaking when he stood and bowed his head, "Lord Daedes, this humble priest thanks you for your protection."
Daedes was shocked. He'd expected for the young man to bolt, but he hadn't. He'd stayed.
Daedes gently lifted Eleon's chin with his finger, "You need not bow, Eleon. You are my only priest. Failing you would be my greatest shame."
Eleon smiled warmly, "You are as kind as I imagined."
Kind? Eleon believed he was kind? Unbelievable.
He had to know more, had to learn what else Eleon believed about him.
From that day on, Daedes appeared at the temple every night to visit Eleon. Every night, they talked for hours about death, philosophy, the gods... everything.
It was only a matter of time before they fell for each other. Daedes still remembered that first kiss, how sweet and gentle.
The God of Retribution was in love with a gentle, mortal priest.
Their love story, like all love stories between gods and mortals, ended in tragedy. Eleon died in his 57th year of tuberculosis, 35 years after they met.
Daedes was heartbroken. His beloved was now in the Elysian fields, beyond his reach. For over a decade, he mourned and withered away.
His parents could no longer bear to watch their son suffer, gave him a gift. Eleon would be reborn over and over, allowing the couple to be together. Eleon would be born, live to 57, and die again. The cause would change every time, but the time was always the same.
Persephone gave Daedes a flower, the flower would always lead Daedes to wherever Eleon's soul resided, and its scent would return his memories to him.
Daedes wept the first time he got to see Eleon again. Held him close the moment his memories returned. For 35 years, they were happy like before. Then Eleon died again. Malaria this time.
Once more, the world was cold, but this time, at least he knew he'd hold his sweet one again.
This went on for centuries upon centuries, every reunion as sweet as the last. Every time Eleon died, he'd feel so guilty for leaving his godly lover behind. Every time, he'd promise to come back, and Daedes would promise to wait.
Until this cycle.
Daedes looked like any other mortal. He had to in this strange, modern world. The gods were weaker than they once were, but he didn't care. All he cared about was the sweet mortal that he'd waited another 22 years for.
Daedes was holding the flower, following the gentle glow it gave off. As he got closer, his heart thumped. Soon.
And then... there he was. Eleon, beautiful, sweet Eleon with his olive skin and dark brown hair. His face and body, the same in every life, was impossible not to recognize.
But Eleon was not alone. There he was, arm in arm with another, a dashing mortal man with an easy smile.
Daedes' rage flared, *"How DARE this mortal touch what is mine!"*
Then he saw Eleon's smile, and his heart melted. His sweet one would not want him to smite the man.
His heart ached. Eleon looked so happy and yet... and yet he knew that one wiff of the flower and his memories would return. Eleon would forget that boy and return to his godly lover's arms.
For just a moment, he thought about walking away, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.
The Greek gods aren't exactly known for being selfless after all.
|
It had finally happened, one of them had finally broken.
He should have been surprised, but the truth is that he always knew it would be her.
When she had the idea, he followed her and did everything he could to see her dream come true.
But power comes with responsibilities, and she sought the ultimate power in existence.
The sacrifices they had to make, the crime they had to commit, they'd had vowed to not let it go to waste, to have it mean something in their future actions.
And so, they did. An endless cycle of life and death. From their first breath to their last, they always found each other, they always changed the world, and they always died in each other's arms.
Countless lives, worlds, species, and universes later, and she started to get *bored*.
It was slow at first, little cruelties against their followers, minor things easily forgotten in a lifetime.
But it escalated with each new reincarnation, a few disappearances, a city lost, a nation burning in nuclear fire, a species' genetic material too degenerated to ever be able to reproduce again.
And now, she wanted to escalate to the same crime that started us on this path.
As I stood before her in her throne room, I saw her already starting the ritual, her husband standing protectively in front of her his sword drawn and ready for battle, the fool no doubt ignorant of his wife's actual plan.
And her son? The toddler was in the middle of the circle, peacefully sleeping while his mother prepared to give him a cursed existence.
That she managed to break the curse of never having children was impressive, although considering our aspects, I figured it was just not meant to be.
But to do the Ritual of Usurpation with him at the focus, to take *my* power?
To commit the crime again, and this time without the moderating influence of her own usurpation to balance the scales?
It would be a True Universal Death, all life in the universe, all souls, up to the universe's soul itself, would be snuffed out. All life would be made death, conceptually. Nothing would be able to live in this space in Creation again, and all life currently there would cease to be everywhere else.
I couldn't let something like that happen again, and I thought she wouldn't either, but she'd already broken the compact, and now I had to put a stop to it.
I didn't fight, it would be a pointless endeavor, and I didn't argue, she'd already made her choice, so I left.
Death left the universe, so Life's ritual didn't have anything to take.
But it didn't stop there, because *Death left*, and so Life reined unrestricted for the first time in a long time, stuck in her new realm of infinite life.
In a way, Death's action that day could be seen as a crueler fate than what he tried to prevent, an action likened to the creation of Hell and its monstrous horrors.
But differently from the other option, it wasn't permanent, all Life had to do was abdicate her power, and once he met his new counterpart he would return to that universe to give them a fitting death and a proper burial.
In the meantime, he returned home, to the realm they took upon reaching apotheosis, and sat down to wait for the call of a new Life.
|
BoneYardBirdy
|
alelp
|
2025-02-04 20:23:57
|
2025-02-04 20:01:49
| 29 | 17 |
mazf6k6
|
mazampl
|
1ihiq4s
|
1ihiq4s
|
[WP] "Attention Employees: Management at Grocery-Love will no longer be accepting 'rivers of lava', 'hordes of demons', or 'confronted by a Horseman' as a late excuse. We're all living through the apocalypse and have to think of the team first."
|
I massage my temples because this. Is. Fucking. Ridiculous. This conversation shouldn't even be happening.
"Look, Ken," I breathe into the phone, in a tone of voice my District Manager has never heard before, "I understand the store policy. What I'm saying is: it's simple fucking math, dude. Why you gonna pay to keep the store open all day? It's _raining blood._ No one wants to shop for new pants right now. We're not gonna sell shit. If we don't sell shit today, how you gonna pay everyone to work?"
A thoughtful pause before Ken proceeds, his teeth obviously clenched: "Look, _Anna,"_
Condescending, stupid prick.
I hangup the phone as loudly as possible; it's the only thing landlines and old phones are really great for.
There are six people on the schedule today, including myself. Only two others showed up. In defense of everyone who called out, I will only offer the words of Rhonda: "Gurl, I ain't steppin' out my house. You know my car is covered in blood? I know what they sayin'... That it can't actually be blood, because it's comin' from the clouds. Fuck that shit. I ain't never seen cloud blood before; I ain't touchin' it."
Fair enough, Rhonda. Fair enough.
The phone starts to ring. My money is on Ken.
I pick up the phone again and hit the intercom button: "Don't answer that and meet me up front, guys. We leave in five minutes."
Before I can turn off the computer, Brad is on the intercom: "We've been sitting at customer service since you went back to the office."
The phone stops ringing. A second of silence before it starts to ring again.
As I collect my purse, April says via intercom: "Can we steal some ponchos or something? I just got my hair done and that was really gross."
"No," I reply over the intercom. "I'm not giving you permission to steal anything... But if you happen to be wearing a poncho when I get to the door, I'm not going to ask if you were wearing it before."
Brad and April are both wearing ponchos when I get to the door. I try not to laugh at Brad and fail, because laughter was clearly the goal; he's wearing a laminated leopard print with an extremely oversized pair of women's sunglasses.
They stand just outside the open door, under the awning, as I set the alarm and wait as I lock the doors. We all open our umbrellas and huddle together, to walk through rain that looks a lot like blood but isn't.
_I'd like to dedicate this story to my old District Manager, Ken. Ken, if you happen to read this, though I doubt you ever will, just know that I'd like to thank you for acting like such a tremendous asshole._
|
Manager Tom brushed the cinders off his clothes, irate. "Lily! You're *supposed* to be guarding the door! A demon got in!
"Lily looked up from her phone. "But I'm in the middle of a gaaame!" Seeing Tom's frown, she whined "I'm on breeakk."
The doorbell jingled, and in came customers. They were haggard and draped in clothes half-melted away by the inconvenient lava river that had popped up outside the Grocery-Love. The leader collapsed before Kevin.
"T-toilet paper?," he forced out through heat-cracked lips. Kevin shook his head. "Nope. Sold out ten minutes ago."
"Water?"
"Also sold out."
"A-*anything?!*"
Kevin tossed a packet of trail mix at the man. "Five dollars, please!"One of the man's friends was just about to hand over the money when, through the glass doors burst Kevin.
"Sorry I'm late," he panted, slapping at the last few pocket demons that clung to his shirt. "The Horseman of Death showed up and-"
"Didn't you get the announcement?! As of today Grocery-Love is no longer accepting that as a late excuse!"
Kevin stared at Tom. "Internet's been out since Monday."
Tom snatched the money from the man's friend - the original man now seemingly deceased."Well, you're on corpse duty then. We all don't have internet; it was your job to find a workaround."
Kevin grudgingly grabbed the man by the feet, casting a glare at the other customers. "He was *your* friend, you could help."
Tom, appalled, snapped at Kevin. "You're fired!"
"Why?"
"Being rude to customers. It may be the apocalypse, but we're still in customer service, and we have to be polite."Signaling to Kyle and Brad, who were behind one of the cash registers, he motioned to Kevin.
"Toss him in the trench, and get the corpse while you're at it. Can't have it stinking up the store."
|
None
|
Fluffy_Candle6800
|
2023-05-15 03:27:49
|
2023-05-15 03:11:34
| 575 | 57 |
jk74azu
|
jk72m7c
|
13htn5b
|
13htn5b
|
[WP] You’re an elf who has been awarded a scholarship for one of the most prestigious schools of magic in all of the realms! The… Massachusetts Institute of Technology? Wait, what?
|
"... and which elf is widely regarded as introducing humanity to lightning magica? Yes, you in the third row"
"Was it Bengeldien? Or Ben Franklin as the humans called him."
"Exactly, his choice was widely regarded by the elven community as wildly irresponsible but by the time word got back to the council he..."
The professor continued to drone on about politics while the students began to doze, they'd heard this story a million times. One student, however, stared intently from the back row, mouth agape.
"... and at that point Leydenel was unable to keep his experiments secret, so he rebranded his Electrum Mana Vessels into what would eventually be known as capacitors..."
John couldn't believe the words he was hearing, he thought he must be having a stroke but there was no way of knowing for sure since his half eaten (and likely to remain that way) panini was sitting on his desk.
"... thus the humans were given magic, though they knew not what it truly was, and based on their rapid advancements in the field of elektrokinesis perhaps that is for the best. There's no telling what mischief they could get up to with a simple bag of..."
There must have been a mistake. Sure, he was surprised when he was accepted to MIT. His grades were mediocre at best, his teachers said he was smart but had trouble reading directions carefully. Still, he had planned to buckle down and earn his spot.. unfortunately he was more lost than he'd expected.
"Alright class that will be all for today's lesson. Remember to read *Rendelians History of Necromancy and 18th Century Russian Politik* before next class. Thank you, and as always, **Magic Is Technology**!"
Ah... maybe he should've paid more attention to the application.
|
“No, thank you. Come back later.” A boy said as I entered my new dorm. “We don’t want the racket right now.”
“Huh?” I asked.
“The beds don’t need to be done, yet.” The same boy responded. “Go! We’re working and don’t need the beds changed yet!”
“I’m not a maid.” I replied coldly, bristling.
“Huh?” The boy responded, confused.
“You’ve never seen an elf that isn’t a slave before, have you?” I prodded.
The boy flushed red, several of his companions were snickering at us.
“Whatever, pointy eared rat.” He mumbled, turning his back on me.
The injustice of his bigotry seized me.
I lunged, taking a fat bite of his skull.
“Ahhh!” He yelled, reaching his arms over his back to grab me.
I thought of the consequences, yet did not care to stop.
I sunk my sharp teeth deeper and deeper into his skull, until I felt the bones crunch beneath my incisors.
I kept one of his socks for a trophy.
|
TheTREEEEESMan
|
None
|
2023-04-26 04:33:47
|
2023-04-25 19:40:40
| 102 | 49 |
jhqx8uw
|
jhoyzyd
|
12yr8cc
|
12yr8cc
|
[WP] Not only did your best friend find out you're a vampire, but he/she wants you to turn them. You try your best to explain the less obvious downsides to this curse.
|
“You can never walk on consecrated ground.”
“I haven’t stepped into a church since I was 15. And besides, I’m an Atheist, I don’t believe in their supposed God and His ‘powers’.”
“You don’t, but they do.”
“Come again?”
“Belief is *power*, my ignorant friend. Just because you don’t believe something does not make it false.”
“S-So God is real?!”
“Real, fake, I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that people believe in Him, and as such, His blessed grounds are protected.”
“…Okay. Fine, whatever. I’ll still just avoid churches.”
“Oh, you small-minded fool.”
“What?”
“Do you think that a church is the only place a believer wishes blessed? What of their homes? Their places of work? The building where their children learn? The graves their deceased loved ones are interned? Those little, hidden away spaces that they can hide away from the world from?”
“Y-You’re kidding!”
“My friend, why do you think my kind sequestered ourselves away in far off, dilapidated ruins in the days of yore? For the aesthetic? No, it’s because people prayed for blessings, for protection, and those blessings and protections were granted. Those abandoned ruins were all we had left, and when a wayward traveler wandered into our grasps, we had to strike quickly, lest we be forced to our own homes.”
“Well…you’re doing well now, aren’t you? This place?”
“This cabin far off into the woods, miles from civilization? Oh yes, I’m living the dream.”
“…”
“Just, go home, my friend, and push thoughts of being turned out of your head. Count your blessings, for they shall not burn you to ash.”
|
I had tried to explain, I really had. Eric was simply too enamored with the version of vampires he'd seen in fiction books and movies. The idea that vampires were immortal beings with power and control is common in this age of Homo Sapiens, but wasn't always. The old stories, the movies, those were much more accurate. We vampires aren't in control, we feed to survive just like any wild animal. Eric couldn't seem to comprehend this reality.
Oh well, I enjoyed feasting on his blood as the last spark of life left his eyes. He would never wake as a vampire, I can't control who turns and who doesn't. It isn't my fault Eric couldn't grasp the nature of instinct and drive. It doesn't really matter to me once my fangs are in someone's throat, this wasn't my first Eric and it won't be my last.
|
CalmInvestment
|
kindanormle
|
2023-08-22 17:14:55
|
2023-08-22 16:44:02
| 56 | 28 |
jxaokjl
|
jxajj1m
|
15y435t
|
15y435t
|
[WP] A noble sentenced to die is allowed to choose their execution method. They ask to die in honourable combat against the king's knights, armed with a wooden sword while the knights have real weapons. It's been 24 hours since the execution started and the king is running out of knights.
|
It was a horror.
The man had been caught on some unspecified charges. My nobles wanted him to die. I suspect pure xenophobia as the reason- the man was a foreigner after all.
I? The King in but name, a mere spectator, a puppet in the hands of my nobles.
As a saving grace, my prime minister did allow the man to choose the method of execution.
It has now been 24 hours since then. All my knights have been incapacitated.
My Prime Minister has offered the foreigner an out a few times, and the foreigner has completely ignored his overtures.
A large gathering of common folks has assembled to watch as words of the strangers miraculous deed spread in the last 24 hours.
I watch, bemused, as my Prime Minister implores the foreigner again: “Why, oh why wouldn’t you just run?”
And the stranger responded, with a fierce pride in his eyes: “The First Sword of Braavos does not run.”
I stand up. The thugs my nobles use to keep in line have all been taken out by this Braavosi.
“Stranger, I am mighty pleased with your bravery. You need not fight with your wooden sword anymore. You have earned the right to fight with a steel sword for the rest of your trial.”
I take out my steel sword, Forlorn Hope, and throw it to the Braavosi. I am sure he will have better use for it than I ever did. It’s supposedly made of Valyrian steel, whatever that might mean.
I turn to my Prime Minister: “Prime Minister Walder, would you be so kind as to carry out the sentence you yourself pronounced upon this man 24 hours ago? It’s only fair that the man who passed the sentence should swing the sword.”
As weasely Walder nearly faints while taking out his sword, I sit back down. I pay no heed to the worried whispers among the rest of the nobles.
Looks like it’s going to be a very interesting rest of the day after all.
|
I stood there before the king and his coucil, smiling knowing the words that had left my mouth. I imagined the smirk I had was great and noticeable, for all I could see at this angle was glares of anger, disbelief and shock. From all these nobles in this large wooden room.
A voice shouted from the front, which was the closest member to the king. Standing there was a grey haired man, with a well kempt beard showing disgust and impatience.
"Your telling me this bastard, who is heir to the house of Morehil is given a chance to end him self-rightly in glourious combat? When he didn't dare give the general of this army his fair fight and you murdered him in cold blood!?!"
The king raised his hand and silence fell across the floor.
The king stood there with a expression of disdain, looking directly at me, almost as if he was staring through me. He spoke with calm but firm demeanor and I could see his disappoinment with everyone word that exited his mouth.
"Malthurn..." He said slowly, then started again. "You are heir to the house of Morehil, son of the great Ken'var Valenshield. Who was a great leader and strong member of this kingdom. And with his recent..." He paused, then proceeded "Untimely demise, I hearby grant you a chance at a resting place with your father and his other beloved children."
I spoke after his finishing statement, "You speak about him in such a humble way, William but you don't see that his unrest, stess and unease is what caused this."
William smiled, laughed, then spoke after "He had to make sacrfices! I am the king, and its his duty to keep me comfortable! Enough of this silly banter, I'll have my guards unshackle you then we'll give you some steel and a knight you surely will be conqured by."
A guard approached me, unshackled me then handed me a longsword.
I grabbed it and held it, appreciating the feeling of cold steel and my last chance as survival.
A noble was chosen from the audience and suited up in plate steel along with weapon of there choice.
Shortswords, greatswords, axes, greataxes, polearms, longswords, maces and greathammers sat on the rack and each was pulled atleast 4-5 times each... body after body, new sets of plate were being brought in and some of it being reused covered in blood and other waste.
Tens, twentys and eventually the thirtys were being counted and I could see the king staring in disbelief, and I hadn't even felt the wind leave my sails and the room was getting smaller and... I've got plenty of time to live my life.
|
Remarkable-Youth-504
|
WizardlyThug
|
2023-04-27 15:36:47
|
2023-04-27 15:27:54
| 52 | 19 |
jhxiylu
|
jhxhm4w
|
130gchs
|
130gchs
|
[WP] There's a forest that people say resembles the ocean. A forest where the land slopes endlessly deeper but the tops of the trees do not. Animals, plantlife... they're said to get stranger the further in one goes.
|
We sail along the canopy, our boats skimming through the thinnest branches. The ways are marked and we watch the sun and stars lest we lose our path and fly out into the trackless depths.
I'm sketching a leaf I plucked from the wind. It's larger than my two hands together, and covered in a fine soft fuzz. Something has eaten holes in one edge. I've never seen one like this before.
The ship leans, and the whisper of leaves against the hull changes. We're arriving. The ship lurches and drops to the dock. Sailors swarm the cargo, tossing crates and netted goods overboard. The spellwright comes up from below deck, stretching and blinking in the sunlight. He looks tired. Keeping ships afloat must be hard work.
I wait for my trunk to be unloaded and then I carefully make my way down to the dock. The surface is worn smooth from feet and cargo, but is still clearly alive. Where I was born, we make our docks from stone. I wish I had time to look more at this minor wonder.
Instead I wake my trunk and then following the directions I've memorized I make my way to the house my friend has rented. She's expecting me. I've been corresponding with Gertha for well over a year now, ever since we'd met at the Exploration Society Ball.
Her rental is a modest one, several stories down. The sunlight fades into dappled green and then darkens to a soft emerald gloom. I run my fingers over the bark walls as I pass them. Behind me my trunk clicks along, it's feet tapping on the wooden path.
"Jihan!"
It can only be Gertha calling to me. No one else here would know my name. She's waiting by a woven gate, wearing climbing leathers as if she means to set off this minute.
I smile, both because I am happy to see my friend again and at the excitement that's so clear on her face.
"Oh! Oh! You're finally here!" She's bouncing on her toes. "Oh do come in!"
"I'm very pleased to be here," I say, greeting her with a sisterly hug.
-
Yesterday we visited the markets to buy supplies and hire guides, guards, and hunters. We were almost giddy with excitement and lack of sleep, having been awake till very late pouring over maps and old journals.
Today we will set off into the deep.
We'll make our way down to the deeps where fungus glows and great slow lizards munch their way along. From here it's only half a day to the roots.
Then the true journey will begin.
|
There's no mistaking the Ocean's Rainforest when I reach the land that borders it. Here, the lands sink into depths beyond what my eyes can see, sloping endlessly deeper while all that is visible to the naked eye are lush, evergreen crowns of the imposing trees that stand taller and taller as the land dives down.
The breezy winds rustling the leaves carry the salty scent of the oceans. Arboreal creatures of this land have evolved differently, in a way that Australia is home to markedly strange species not seen on other continents. For example, Oceania's Spider Monkeys, which swing and soar on the treetops, quite literally developed eight legs as an adaptation to the bewildering ecosystem that has flourished on this mysterious, almost alien forest on Earth.
As a cartographer, it was my job to explore these bizarre depths of the forests to chart these unknown lands. What little science knows about Ocean's Rainforest, is the tip of the iceberg, or should I say, the tip of the treetops. We've sent helicopters and drones to fly over the thick masses of greenery to take snapshots of the environment and its inhabitants, but none of our best surveillance technology could shine a light on the depths of this forest.
But today, its the first time National Geographic has assembled a team that includes me to plumb the depths.
The trees are too tightly packed together for any sort of vehicle to enter, so as much as the potential dangers are unknown to us, we're venturing into the ceaseless sloping depths below the treetops on foot.
The first day ushered in a gentle breeze as the team trudged through the thick foliage, and clambered down the shorter trees at the edge of the forest, as our feet crunched down on the masses of fallen leaves on the ground. Monkeys chattered when George began filming them, while Andrew was taking notes to be dictated later when the documentary would be edited in the safety of our office. Chodak, the scar-faced sherpa, and an experienced trained forest ranger, remained cautious and silent the entire journey, his darting eyes constantly scanning the woods and his hand on his gun holster the entire time.
As the blazing light of the sun gave way to the tender light of the moon, we began to search for a clearing to set up camp. There was an uncanny silence in the air when the night crept up upon us. No chirping birds, hooting apes, or even the buzz of insects. Only the crunch of leaves below our boots as we marched towards an open spot Chodak pointed out to us.
We set up our makeshift tents and agree on a rotation shift to keep our guards up. We were in completely unchartered territory, the flora and fauna of this part of the forest an unexplored enigma.
Chodak unzipped the long, heavy backpack he was carrying all this time to pull out rifles to distribute to us, ever the man of few words worth their weight in gold.
"It's time you learn to make every shot count, because the predators of the night here at these depths, they could kill you if you miss your first shot."
|
Zero_Drift
|
Tregonial
|
2023-05-29 09:51:59
|
2023-05-29 09:49:13
| 94 | 43 |
jm1vyyu
|
jm1vrjn
|
13umwir
|
13umwir
|
[WP] You formed a contract with an adventurer that allows them to summon you in their time of need. You haven’t been summoned for years, almost forgetting about the contract until suddenly you’re summoned into the palace where your beloved adventurer is on his knees with a sword to his neck.
|
Magic doesn't exist. There's no such thing as summoning portals, elves, pixies, or supernatural contracts.
At least, that's what the doctors told me. They chalked it up to a dream, or some sort of subconscious hallucination when I hit my head. But then, they also told me that I was extremely lucky, and that people don't survive car accidents like that one. I didn't bother asking them to explain the small pouch full of gold coins in my pocket, the one that I was given in exchange for my help on the adventurer's quest, the coins with the seal of the Kingdom of Arsenjia.
No car crash or head trauma could explain that. It did offset my lost wages from my time in the hospital, and helped pay for my new car, though. The old one was a molten pile of scrap metal, and that was before the jaws of life cut me out of it. None of it added up. Well, the gold added up quite nicely, so I couldn't really complain. So what if the wizard in my dream said that accepting the gold meant that the little adventurer guy could summon me back to this world any time that he needed my assistance -- it was a fun dream, anyway. Sure sounded better than nightmares about the crash and my near-death experience. Big stupid trolls have **nothing** on an 18-wheeler losing control and sliding toward you on an icy highway, anyway.
Time passed, as it does. Days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to months, then years. I graduated from college, and got a job, and thoughts of that awful day and that very odd dream became fewer and farther between. A 9-to-5 tends to take up a lot of your time and thoughts. Staying ahead of rent and utility bills does, too. But that's not to say that I didn't have a little bit of time for hobbies, here and there.
I had gotten into target shooting last year. I got some odd looks from some of my coworkers when I talked about it, but it wasn't a big deal. I had grown up in a small town, where everybody had a few guns, and the first day of deer season was practically a holiday. I wasn't ever really *that* interested, but a rash of violent crime in my neighborhood in the city had me thinking about it, and when a neighbor invited me to the shooting range to give it a try, I was hooked. I got a license, a pistol, and even a rifle that politicians liked to argue about.
In fact, I was at an outdoor range, getting ready to "punch holes in some paper," as the neighbor jokingly called it, when it happened again.
The "dream." But it was different, somehow.
I wasn't in the sleepy medieval-looking farming village full of friendly little cat-people. This time, I was in what looked like a palace. Polished stone floors, marble columns, elaborate candelabras, the works. The only thing that was familiar was the little adventurer. But this was wrong. He was surrounded by several...I'm not sure what you'd call them, goblins, maybe? One of them had a short sword up to the adventurer's neck.
"Danshi, what is going on here?"
He looked up at me, and I could see he was most definitely **not** having a good time. The swollen black eye and fat lip were pretty universally understandable. Still, he smiled, just a little, when he looked up and saw me. "John, I wasn't sure if you could still hear me, after all this time. I'm sorry if this is a bad time..."
This...didn't *feel* like a dream. Neither did the flood of memories that came rushing back to me. Stumbling through the dark, musty dungeon of Sovmal, the frigid mountain pass in Dorheim, hundreds of mosquito bites in the swamps of Gar'glan... No, this is *real.*
The goblin-like creatures noticed that their captive had a guest appear about this time. Whatever magic let me understand Danshi and his people didn't seem to work as well for these other creatures, unless they normally sounded like they talked with a mouth full of mud. For all I knew, maybe they did. I got the impression that one of them asked Danshi if he knew who I was, and the one with the fancier armor asked me what I wanted here. Or what was haunted beer? Probably the former.
I realized that somehow the summoning portal had brought my rifle and range bag through with me, so I shouldered my rifle, aimed at the ugly one with his sword at Danshi's throat, and said "I want you to release my friend. Now, or you die." It didn't sound very hero-like, but I was still coming to terms with this whole thing being apparently real, and fancy speeches hadn't crossed my mind.
Several of the other goblin creatures drew their swords, and I realized that if I didn't want my friend to die, and if I didn't want to get stabbed by an angry bunch of ugly goblin-looking things, talking wasn't going to solve this. So I did what made sense with the tools at hand. I lined up my sights on the first goblin's head, squeezed my trigger...
...and promptly realized why you wear hearing protection at the shooting range. Of course, the goblin on the receiving end would have learned why you don't want to stand down-range when somebody is shooting, if he hadn't been the target. His comrades were stunned, both due to the horrifically loud report of the rifle, and due to the fact that their friend became terminally open-minded.
For a brief moment, there was no hostility, no "my side" or "their side." We all just stood there, ears ringing, dumbstruck at the bloody stump that was the goblin's neck. Eventually, it was Danshi that spoke.
"Now, if you will allow us to leave, nobody else needs to be hurt. If you try to stop us, my wizard friend here," he gestured at me, "will have to do that again. And none of us want that, right?"
The goblins looked around at each other, then at us, and nodded. "Yes. Please leave." I think one of them wet himself. I know I felt like I might, but that probably wouldn't help our situation."
Several awkward moments later, Danshi and I were outside of the goblins' castle, walking along a well-worn dirt path toward the nearby hills. Wincing and rubbing his right ear, Danshi asked me "what in the seven hells was *that?!*"
I stopped. "Wow, uh, so this is going to take a lot of explanation. And I have a million questions of my own for you, but first," I said, scooping the little cat-man-warrior-thing up into a big hug, "it's so good to see you, buddy! Do you have any idea how much I missed you?"
No matter what this was, no matter what happened next, this was real enough for me, and I never wanted to leave again.
|
White enveloped me blinding and deafening me to all. When suddenly shapes appeared all around. My eyes blinked furious trying to clear the lingering brightness from my sockets. The shapes became crystal clear. A plethora of well dressed men and women and a large stone room. Beautiful purple banners hung from the ceiling the pure white unicorn proudly placed near the bottom.
"This is your speaker?" A commanding voiced erupted through the hall, I turned on my heel looking at the source of the voice. A man draped in purple garments and crown upon his head "wonderful" I thought to myself " Your defense is a drunk with a tankard still to his lips!" The man screamed now obviously angry, I spun around then to get an entire look of the room, faces shocked and curious surrounded me and then I saw it. Aidan my best friend of my whole life on his knees with a blade to his throat.
I finally lowered the forgotten tankard from lips and swallowed my swollen cheeks of ale. I cleared my throat, " did you fall 'in love' with another hapless maidan Aidan?" I asked holding my cup at my side and slowly shaking my head. He shrugged and gave a nervous smirk, his way of saying " it's not my fault trouble always follows me." My eyes rolled as I looked to the king. " This man stands accused of bewitching and defiling my daughter!" The man roared fiercely, if I was a younger less experienced man I might have trembled. " Your highness" I began bowing as low as possible putting my free hand to my heart and my full hand aloft " I apologize for my sudden appearance and interruption of your trial but I have to ask, where exactly am I?" The rage upon the man's face shown as brightly as flame against a dark night
"You stranger are in the high court of Jethro the Fair King of the kingdom of Kirthdal! Now I order you to state who you are and how you came to be his defendant against his crimes!" I raised up after he finished and started him in the eyes making sure my cold resolve and indomitable will came to the forefront for him to see " I am Algus your highness and I was summoned because of these" I held up my hand to show my bland banded ring that wrapped around my right ring finger as I did so I walked over to Aidan hunched form and slowly pushed the blade away from him rose him to his feet and spun him to show a white ring in the same place on his same hand "they are summoning rings you see and we'll I was summoned" suddenly in that moment I remembered the accusations " I'm sorry did you say he charmed your daughter and I'm assuming you also believe he has made her with child yes? Well I can assure you, you couldn't cast any sort of charm, spell, ritual with a endless life and all the hidden knowledge of arcana" I lied trying to ease the king " and how are you so sure my daughter does not have his child growing within her how could you see so sure?"
"Well that's simple my dear king I enchanted him so that he cannot bare children" my smile grew wider Aidan screamed " you did w-" my hand shot to his mouth as I glared at him, in no small part explaining "there were to many close calls before and i wasn't going to have wind up in a situation like this, you should thank me for my forethought" the king was staring daggers as I looked back at him " how many I to believe any of this to me you look like a normal man dressed how you are and drinking as you were how am I to believe any of the words you say!" I looked down at myself and saw the robe " ahh yes hardly dressed for a court appearance I do apologize" I looked around the room and saw a servant girl I beckoned her over and gave her my tankard and bowed my head thanking her thoroughly " I realize my name must be unknown to you but I do go by a different more well known one" I stated as I snapped my fingers.
I felt the all to familiar sensation of my armor appearing around me concealing me in the black iron, the crowd gasped and I saw the anger leave the kings face as well as the color. " The... The... You are the black knight? The surge of Varkun, killer of king Horkar?" He trailed off his fear drowning the room as if they had seen the end of days upon them. I looked over in that moment and saw a young woman no older than Aidan himself looking in amazement excitement in her eyes as if to say " the stories are true!" I held out my and to her " dear princess if you would I would ask that you take my hand I wish to show your father the truth. She faltered a bit looking at her father then at me and slowly got up and ran down to me the excitement slowly burning back to life in her eyes " will you take me away with Aidan allow us to have a happily ever after?" She whispered her slight jitters like small fireworks in her body.
I frowned even though no one could see it. I was going to give Aidan a piece of my mind if this worked, " no my dear" I answered the armor slowly pulling away from my hand so I could feel her hand " I am going to show your father what happened between you to and then we will leave. And you will find a good man a better man to love you I am sure of it" she looked deeply saddened and put her hand mine " I know it is inopportune but I need you to remember the happiness you felt with my friend" a slow tear descended her cheek but she nodded and closed her eyes "
my dear king if you would please look" my fingers traced the symbols into the air as a tapestry of memory appeared above the princess and my head " I felt the emotion and saw the images in was pure and innocent affection it was mutual there was no wooing of even intercourse between the two when it was done I dawned my blade from the shadows and cut my best friends binds and pulled him to me by the collar of his shirt
"After all these years after everything we have been through after all those late nights and YOU decide to fall in love with a princess? You absolute fool!" I turned then in my fury ready to try and talk to the king when I saw him and the tear streaming down his face " I haven't seen a love like that since I was with my wife. I am sorry I doubted you my child and I am sorry I was to kill an innocent man forgive me both of you. I hear ya pass my judgement the accused is free to go but I forbade you from seeing my daughter" I grabbed Aidan before you could protest "
I thank you for your leniency my kind may you live long and rule even longer " and in a moment Aidan and I were teleported back to my study where I had been when he summoned me. " Alright it's done I saved you as you needed and now I want you to go. You are very lucky you weren't up to your usual tricks" " I love her Algus. I cannot depart from her and I will not be happy till she and I are together" I slammed my fists onto my desk " you lovesick fool how do you plan on doing that? Steeling her away? Running off to be chased till the end of your days by her father's men?" " I don't know Algus all I know is I love her and I won't rest till I am with her" I sighed my armor disappearing just like it had come "Fine. We will get you a Lordhood and go back for your beloved, they can't really deny a lord the hand of a lady noe can they?" his face brightened and he embarrassed me "Besides I need to get my favorite tankard back"
|
Mr_E_Monkey
|
elawesomo1000
|
2023-01-30 21:47:28
|
2023-01-30 19:09:14
| 86 | 28 |
j6k15sm
|
j6jbm65
|
10ou3el
|
10ou3el
|
[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.
|
There was a "tat-tat" sound on the door. I rushed over, wondering who the surprise visitor could be, but all that was on my porch was a package of coffee. The label said Veronica Coffee Co. I looked down the drive to see if I could catch a glimpse of my mysterious benefactor, but it appeared as if they'd rushed away because I saw no sight of them.
At first, I was hesitant to pick up the package, wondering if it was a bomb. I didn't think I had any enemies, but who wouldn't think it strange when a bag of coffee shows up unexpectedly? After inspecting it carefully, I gave in and picked it up. From it came the most pleasant aroma. I shook it, hearing beans within. *Hmmph*. It seemed perfectly fine. I read all the text on the package, which was strangely sparse, lacking even an address of where it was made. There was just the label in a thick green cursive font overlaying an image of something reminiscent of the Big Bang.
The flavor was printed below - "All Knowing. All Seeing. All Places."
If that wasn't a weird flavor of coffee, then I didn't know what was. I scratched my head for several minutes, wondering if I should text my friends to let them know that I'd received this strange package. I took pictures of it with my phone, planning to post them on Instagram, but when I went to upload them they were gone. So I took the pictures again, and the same thing happened. *Terrible time for there to be a bug in my phone.*
*Fine. I'll just text them.* The moment I was about to tap send on the text, my phone shut off out of nowhere. I tossed the coffee aside and started fiddling with my phone, trying to get it to work. At least an hour went by before I gave up and went back to the coffee. Later, the tech at a phone store told me that all of the chips inside were fried due to a rare malfunction that had only happened to six other devices of the same model. This same malfunction was also probably responsible for my inability to send the pictures that wouldn't send.
Anyways, so my stomach was grumbling now and I remembered that I had a tasty pastry waiting for the perfect cup of coffee. So I opened the package from Veronica Coffee Co. and got my french press. The package only had enough for a single cup in it, and it measured perfectly with no leftovers at all. So I made the cup, and it was by far the best cup I'd ever had in my life. Total coffee perfection. When I took my last sip I actually felt sad that it was over. I looked at the package again, trying to see if I'd missed an address or something so I could order more. Just like the first time, there was nothing.
I shook my head. I just had to tell someone about this, and not having my phone really sucked, so I decided to drive to my brother's house a few streets away. I grabbed the Veronica Coffee Co. package and got in the car. At this point, I should've expected something to happen, since everything about this was strange, but I didn't give it a second thought. And as you probably guessed, that was when the accident happened. I was proceeding through an intersection when I was T-boned by another car. I lost consciousness, my car was totaled, and of course, as you can guess - the coffee wrapper was destroyed.
That wasn't even the strangest thing. The occupants of the car who hit me were the two men who came to talk to me about God the day before. When I woke up in the hospital and found out, I knew that none of this had to be a coincidence - that somehow I was being called by God. I couldn't prove a shred of what happened to me was true. Yet I know it was because I experienced it. You can call me a liar, a fool, or a person who believes in fantasies, but what happened to me is real.
r/StoriesToThinkAbout
\------
This was a fantastic prompt!
|
WhatsGoingggOn
|
armageddon_20xx
|
2023-03-21 06:44:46
|
2023-03-21 01:41:06
| 44 | 29 | null | null |
11wsrfi
|
11wsrfi
|
[WP] what the general expected from "religious assistance" was shipments of donated supplies, some medics and maybe a priest to preform last rites and funerals... not fifty warpriests each with a thousand holy warriors eager to kill and die for the glory of their god.
|
Watching as the warships unload what had to have been thousands upon thousands of pissed warriors injected with various doses of "God's blood", his most trusted officer stands behind him. Not saying a word as they continue to offload, dozens of warpriests form up and make their way over to where the general and his officer stood.
"Permission to speak, sir?" Said the officer, getting the general's attention.
"Granted." Confirmed the general.
"I, my soldiers and the sergeants just thought this was going to be supplies when you said religious assistance." The officer explained. "What is going on?"
"Unfortunately, you, they, and yes, I all assumed wrong." The general admitted, as the Arch Warpriest got to a professional distance from the general
"At ease, brothers." The Arch Warpriest thundered. In unison, the warpriests shifted to a more comfortable, but congruent position. "Greetings. You are the General in command here, yes?"
The Arch Warpriest doesn't make an appearance unless something is of high interest or importance. But this was just a planet of survivors from a distant solar system who simply hasn't had time to form any real body of government yet, and needed resources to rebuild.
"Me and my brothers will be taking over the operations from here forward. You are relieved of your duties, however your army will serve under my command. You are free to do as you please." The Arch Warpriest frankly explained, sugarcoating nothing. "This operation has been made necessary by God, and has made Himself clear that He desires a corporeal form." He says, slowly walking towards the fleet command room. The general walks behind him, leaving his officer with the Warpriests.
"What do you mean? How does your appearance here, of all places, have to do with God wanting a body?" The general asks, the Arch Warpriest stops in his tracks. He turns to face the general. "These filthy stragglers, their lives are... expendable. With God needing a vessel to inhabit, it requires a great sacrifice for it to come to pass. In short, the survivors will be offered up to God for the value of their souls, as the energy necessary to complete the transfer. It is a great honor."
|
Thirty battalions all in all said Argon. I see, said General Heim. Send the wounded from the river battle to camp Aleina, some clerics should come there soon, and fix them up. We'll need reinforcements from the citadel. Of those thirty J'nee battalions. Eight are reported to be closing in on Megida, we've only two battalion there, Battered to a pulp. If no reinforcements come. The J'nee will take that town. And a significant portion of our forces would be lost to the sands of time.
General! A scout came. Yes? The reinforcements have come! What reinforcements? The only forces slated to come are a small group of priests and healers.. sir! We've reports of fifty war priests! Each leading a battalion of crusaders! By god... The General was in full shock, but quickly snapped out of it. Good! Very good! Send Germain to fill them in, split em in half for now. And send fourteen battalions to Megida at once! Yes General! The scout ran off in haste.
Hussar! Yes General! Hussar the horse master, was on full alert. Ready the party at once. We ride to Megida! Yes General! Hussar went to ready the royal party and to prepare the horses.
Fifty battalions... Someone in the citadel has lost their mind or what? The General thought to himself. The thirty J'nee battalions present on the field of battle. Full of confidence, against the outnumbered twenty battalions of General heim. Are in for an ugly surprise...
Crusaders, none the less. The lesser of them, on par with some of his best men. Will crush the J'nee advance in a week. And if they stay, they could push the J'nee back to the border.
A thundering voice boomed from above. Clear! Clear the landing! Hussar shouted to the stable hands. Move the horses! The stable hands quickly rushed the horses away to safety. The squires quickly waddled away with the knight's gear on their backs, far away from the courtyard of castle Krim. The stronghold of General Heim and his party.
Suddenly, War priest General Gr'imamdo and 16 of his crusader body guards beamed down in a flash of blinding light. Frightening the novices who have never seen such a sight. General Heim! A pleasure to meet you but we've no time to waste! Yes sir! Said Heim. Gr'imamdo may have been equal to him in rank. But he still addressed him as a superior. Megida is secured! And six battalions of ours are decimating the J'nee as we speak.
By god... They've secured the city already and are moving on the J'nee? I've only now sent the command, Heim thought.
The war priests and their crusaders. Teleporting from one field of battle to another. Are no match, transportation wise, to the horses and war wagons of General Heim. And to the war drakes and battle boars of the J'nee.
This battle would be over before it began, thought Heim. As he rode to Megida.
|
None
|
BboyLotus
|
2023-03-17 16:57:17
|
2023-03-17 14:52:43
| 61 | 35 |
jcl5acm
|
jcklx5s
|
11thwca
|
11thwca
|
[WP] You're immortal. But instead of secrecy or God status, you decided to become an urban legend by working at a random gas station for hundreds of years.
|
It started as a joke. That’s all it was, I just thought it would be funny if I stuck it out here for a few decades, see if anyone notices. It stopped being a joke the first time I got shot.
It wasn’t anything really, the gunner just wanted cash, apparently they took offense to how relaxed I was. I tell you, the look on their face when I didn’t react to a bullet in my heart! Priceless. But then I thought about it a bit more. Because sure, I can take a bullet! But I’m a but if a special case. What would have happened if a normal person was working this shift?!
It stopped being a joke after the first time I got shot, but I’m still here.
See, I have a theory. This station is a bit out of the way, you know, just far enough away from the city that it’s rarely visited by the cops, just close enough to inherit some of the problems. Anyone leaving the city already topped off their tanks, and anyone coming in probably just wants to get there! If anyone stops for gas HERE it’s probably because something’s gone wrong. And then tempers get hot, people get impatient, and, well! There’s just something about cars that makes people furious every waking moment! I’ve been stabbed, clubbed with tire irons, shot with handguns rifles and shotguns, and that’s just the road rage!
The robberies few and far between, and usually nothing goes wrong, most of these kids are bluffing when they point a gun at you, you see. They don’t think you’re more willing to get shot than they are to pull the trigger.
Anyway, what was your question? Ah yeah, how long. Around a hundred and seventy ish years, and I don’t really have any intention of leaving. Times are getting rougher, and that means shorter tempers and more desperate robbers, there’s no telling what might happen if someone with the luxury of dying worked here.
By the way, your total is $28.74, cash or credit?
|
Today is August 21st, 2023. I Am Jeffery. I work at Sunoco Gas Station. I am supposed to make sure the shelves are stocked, all potential customers are happy, and make money for Sunoco Gas Station.
It is late at night. Sometimes, customers become unruly at this time. There is a bar close by, and at this time of night, drunk patrons will wander towards the Sunoco Gas Station.
A man in a jacket and jeans walks in. He is a man I often see. He looks poor, but he has a lot of money. He has told me about his rich parents. His name is Paul, but he likes to be called Ruiz. I do not know why this is. He is very clearly inebriated. I must make sure he does not ruin the experience for any other customers who walk in.
"Heya -*hic*\- Juju, ya do-*hic*\-doing good man?" He stumbles as he walks in. His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he frowns.
I quickly reach for him to make sure he doesn't fall over. People on the ground make for bad customer service. I must make sure all potential customers are happy.
"Thanks. Fuck, work *sucks* man." Paul grumbles. I lean him over on the counter by the scratch offs. Nobody ever buys them. Scratch offs are gambling.
"At least I-*hic*\- get some good beer at Benny's." Paul laughs. "Heya, Juju, you and I-*hic*\- should go together to Benny's this friday-*hic*\-."
Paul's speech is slurred. He is definitely drunk.
"I cannot, Paul. I work here." I speak to Paul directly and firmly. It is best to make yourself clear, so the customer does not misinterpret what you say.
"Yeah-*hic*\- you sourpuss. Just one night? My treat." Paul giggles to himself a little. Paul needs a good place to rest. I, however, do not. I have a nice bed to sleep in at home.
"I get-*BLEGH*\-Christie to be there." Paul starts to gag a little. Paul is likely to throw up. I go to get Paul a bag to throw up in. Our Sunoco Gas Station does not have a functional bathroom.
There is no need for me to be bribed by the presence of another person. I walk to the edge of the counter to grab a bag for Paul.
However, Christie is a wonderful asset. She is smart. She helps me with my job, helps me to achieve my objectives. She has explained to me how to properly talk to someone in a customer service voice. It is also unlikely that I would be required to work that night, either, as there would likely be another person on that shift. Her physical appearance and adorable jokes do not make her uneasy on the mind, either.
"It is settled. I will go with you."
"You-*hic*\- better."
I handed Paul the trash bag.
He promptly threw up.
|
Legitimate_Expert712
|
EvilNoobHacker
|
2023-08-22 04:57:47
|
2023-08-22 03:56:06
| 154 | 51 |
jx8fk98
|
jx89gpl
|
15xku1z
|
15xku1z
|
[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.
|
The representative from the Coalition of Human Controlled Planets (CoHCP) had, for the last three months, had been attending by proxy. Specifically a cardboard cutout of himself holding a sign which read "humans will do what must be done." At first it was thought to have been a publicity stunt, that Representative Marshall was quietly cultivating support for the species he represented.
Three days it was determined that this was incorrect. Representative Marshall had been vacationing on Tahit the entire time. The message that he was actually needed a the council meeting had to be delivered by speed boat. Despite being provided with a private warp capable ship, Marshall took over 61 hours to arrive at the council. It was noted by his colleagues that he "smelled of alcohol and cheap prostitutes."
Representative Marshall reportedly stated in reply that "they were NOT cheap." Before entering the council chamber proper, dressed in cut off jeans, a Hawaiian shirt worn open over an undershirt, dark sunglasses and a straw hat. After being briefed, he was escorted to the podium to address the full council. Some representatives claim his speech was slightly slurred, and he was seen swaying slightly. His address is quoted verbatim below.
"For ten years the members of the Galactic Committe have been under attack from foreign powers. Specifically the Xihasi Collective and their associated species. Nine years and ten months ago, I made a proposition that the Chopic [CoHCP] Navy could be deployed to end the incursion. Nine years ago the Immirii lost three worlds to the invaders, and have seen their once proud race reduced to ashes and slaves. Eight years ago it was the Torhas. Then the Sniquillib.
"During these dark days, the Committee not only did not sanction the deployment of the Chopic navy, but preemptively ordered that the Chopic navy could not be deployed. Four years ago, the invaders reached Polli. For the first time, the Xihasi were defeated. Not merely beaten, but crushed. The Committee proceeded to formally censure the Chopic for the tactics employed. Tactics that won the day. Tactics that have ensured that no other planets under the protection of Chopic have seen more than a reconnaissance probe.
"And now, after ten years of warfare, death, and defeat the council turns to the Coalition of Human Controlled Planets for assistance. In your time of need, on behalf of the human race, I have one thing to say.
"It's about damn time. As we speak Chopic ships are dropping out of warp in orbit around all 19 planets that are currently seeing active conflict. In the next six to twelve hours, Chopic ships will arrive at planets claimed by the Xihasi collective. We expect to cripple the invaders within thirty hours and expect total surrender within 50. The terms of surrender Chopic is offering have been relayed to each of you, and I expect near unanimous approval of these terms. Thank you."
Representative Marshall began to leave the podium before being called back for questions. Representative Tiiiii asked if Marshall had considered the possibility of censure for taking action prior to council approval, to which he stated Representative Tiiiii could "take his censure and shove it up his ass." He then apologized, saying "I know you don't have an ass, so you can shove it wherever your people shove things."
Marshall met most other questions with similar irreverence and hostility, except for the question from Representative Rabinti, who asked how his time was oh Tahit. It is noted that Representative Rabinti has been an outspoken proponent of the CoHCP and their tactics.
Representative Marshall remained on site at the council until the Xihasi Collective surrendered and all hostility had ceased. Representative Marshall has since returned to Tahit and is not expected to return until the next formal council session begins in two months.
|
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.
|
jsgunn
|
MahNamPhillip
|
2023-06-11 21:21:18
|
2023-06-11 08:45:12
| 37 | 22 |
jnttnqc
|
jnrbnnz
|
146dwvr
|
146dwvr
|
[WP] You encounter a group of 3 genies, and they each grant you one wish. One genie will grant your wish exactly as stated. One genie will ensure it's cast exactly how you want. The final genie will twist it to ruin as much as possible. But you have no idea which genie is which.
|
Okay, I thought to myself, let's reduce this puzzle down to its basic elements. Three genies, let's call them "Good Genie," "Lawful Genie" and "Bad Genie" As long as I'm careful with my wording, Lawful Genie will still give me what I want. I have two good infinitely powerful wishes, and one potentially life ruining trap. One good wish is enough to set me up for eternity, so what I really need is to gain info while minimizing the risk posed by the bad genie.
The obvious thing to do is to spend a wish to determine which genie is which. Let's say I pick a genie at random and say "I wish to know which genie grants my wish exactly as stated, which genie grants my wish exactly how I want, and which genie will twist my wish to ruin it." If I get the genie that grants my wishes how I want, what I want is for him to tell me which genie is which, he'll follow my desire and tell me which genie is the bad one, and I can spend my remaining wish on the lawful genie. If I get the lawful genie, he will follow my wish as stated, which is for him to tell me which genie is which, and he'll tell me which genie is the bad one, and I can spend my remaining wish on the good genie.
Theoretically, I should even be safe with if I get the bad genie. The bad genie will likely try to twist my wish to trick me, but it doesn't matter even if he lies to me, because I've already spent my wish on the bad genie. He can't trick me into making another wish on the bad genie because it's only one wish per genie. Then I can wish with either of the two safe genies knowing the bad one logically must be gone, and I'm solid. This should work.
Okay then, middle genie. "Out of the three genies in front of me, I wish to know which genie grants my wish exactly as stated, which genie grants my wish exactly how I want, and which genie will twist my wish to ruin it."
The middle genie turned to the other two genies. "You heard him boys, he wants to know your identities."
"I am the genie who grants your wish exactly how you want, the left genie is the one who grants your wish how it is stated, and the middle genie is the genie who tries to twist your wish." says the right genie, exactly how I wanted him to, and vanishes.
"I am the genie who grants your wish exactly as stated." says the left genie, and vanishes.
"And now you know. Wish granted." The middle genie blows me a raspberry, and vanishes.
...Damn 1/3 odds.
|
Things change, he would often say. Rarely in a good way, often unsatisfactory, but that's how it goes.
Ron had many sayings, most of which Alex ignored, except that one, somehow. Now that Ron was dead, she would give anything to hear them again.
She had seen sickness tear the love of her life apart, putting an end to all they had built together.
Her nostalgia had given way to melancholia, which in turn opened the gates of despair.
Alex clinged to all the wicked promises and mad fantasies she could find as long as it fed her hope to see Ron again. Grief had eaten common sense and logic, and still it hungered.
Until one day, when she stumbled upon a fantasy which was anything but.
Alex, obviously in pain, blood dripping from her mouth, stood before a slate of black stone in a dark room.
Three shapes were engraved on the stone, spirals turning into themselves, immobile yet giving the illusion of movement.
There were eyes in there, Alex couldn't see them but felt their gaze.
"I want my loved one back," she said.
No lights or grand display, beings beyond the scope of human consciousness cared little for theatrics.
Ron's corpse was at her feet, fresh from the grave, patches of black skin clinging to frail bones.
There used to be a big smile on that face.
"I want my loved one back," she told the second shape.
Morning light, the scent of wet moss in the woods, coalescing and seeping through the black veins, turning the wheel of life and death.
"How..."
Alex helped Ron up and hugged him, a gesture she had craved for an eternity.
"We're together now."
"Alex."
"We can pick up where we left off."
"Alex," his voice was low and sweet, Alex knew she wouldn't like it.
They broke the embrace.
"Not like this," he said, "I want you to go on, not be stuck in the past."
"You're in the present now, you're alive."
"That's not life, that's a still picture, frozen, it's unnatural."
"We don't have to play by the rules."
"Alex..." His voice was nothing but kindness, and Alex knew she would yield, "I want to play by the rules. Things have to change and go on."
Alex felt the coppery taste of blood in her mouth. She had known, deep inside, how it would play out. All the work, the hopes, the pain, the wounds, to stand in this room now. What had it been for? Did anyone remember?
"I want my loved one back," she told the last shape.
Decay and rust creeped up Ron's leg, sucking out life and gnawing away at the flesh.
It had to be painful. Ron showed no discomfort.
"I'm proud of you," he said, smiling.
Rot washed over him and left behind a pitiful corpse, one that would be nothing but dust, in time. Her loved one, back to the state he had been.
And that was okay.
Alex scooped up the corpse, and looked at its face.
There was a wide smile on the face.
Alex laughed.
She turned back to the shapes, and wondered which one of them actually granted her the wish she truly wanted.
Some questions don't need answers though, Alex decided the shapes and Ron's corpse should be allowed to rest, and she left the room forever.
|
Bob_Squob
|
Ataraxidermist
|
2023-02-02 09:02:03
|
2023-02-02 07:30:50
| 212 | 103 |
j6w73e1
|
j6w0h02
|
10rfikb
|
10rfikb
|
[WP] A millennium ago, only the wealthiest were allowed to board the ship, allowed to escape this dying planet into space. In their absence the world healed and humanity built a new utopia. Now, the ulta-rich have returned and want to reap the benefits of the new world.
|
“What?” Asked Lucy as she stared at the radio that had just produced the worst message she had ever had. The rich that left the planet all those years ago were coming back. Lucy glanced up at the worlds six leaders and saw the most powerful one, Cosmic, massaging her temples. Cosmic had been there when the rich left, and she still didn’t look a day over twenty five a millennia later. Sarvin, the leader of animal’s, rubbed his head against Cosmic’s waist and she started rubbing his ears to calm herself.
“Let them come.” She said. Lucy and the others stared at her in shock and a smirk tugged at Cosmic’s lips.
“If they want to see what we’ve been able to do to the planet, then they might reconsider ever leaving us. That is when we lure them in. We play with them as they did us and when they think we’ve let them into our homes and have respected them, we kick them out of planet, making sure they never come back.” Sarvin perked up and so did the others. Looking around to each other, they could all see that they were agreeing. A growl of approval came from him and the others all yelled there approval as well.
“Let’s start the hunt.” Purred Cosmic.
|
Like hollow, sunken eyes, the barrels of weapons flared at each other. The stand off was tense. On one side, a group returning to reclaim a throne they thought was theirs. They had come screaming down from orbit, ready to take control once more, even through force. Yet, those facing them stood for their newfound freedom.
When they had first escaped to the stars, those left stranded on Earth were lost. Confused, dazed, and dying like the planet they lived on. Yet, they were able to band together. Gone we’re the days of working for your boss’s boss’s boss. Now they worked to survive. In this new climate, they toiled to repair the polluted hell they called home. The battle against the past was taxing, yet they persevered. They reclaimed their home.
Yet those who had fled kept a watchful eye. From orbit, they could see the people work do away with the old and work towards the new. Not a finger was lifted to go down and help. *Why should we,* they thought, *when they can do all the work for us?* So they sat and watched and waited, safely falling endlessly around the world.
Those down below never forgot that they were left to rot. When the first craft landed from above, those on board were sent up in a body bag. *”You are not welcome in our new planet. Do not come back.”* is what their lifeless bodies shouted to the others.
Even though they received such a vivid message, they tried anyways. All at once, they boarded their craft with the aging weapons they had. With few exceptions, they all landed together and quickly created a stronghold from which they would reclaim their world.
The people who were once forgotten would not allow this. Why should those people be able to take the Earth they left behind? And so, they surrounded the enclave and approached with weapons drawn.
Facing barrel to barrel, each side was ready to fight for the world they deserved.
|
Magica-Lee
|
Yeeteth_Deleteth
|
2023-01-11 01:47:58
|
2023-01-11 01:00:13
| 27 | 14 |
j3u2q7x
|
j3tvxbo
|
108fkpv
|
108fkpv
|
[WP] "One drip of this poison is enough to kill a whale." The scientist points towards a table, but the beaker isn't there. Instead a silly coffee cup shaped like a beaker sits. You lower the not coffee cup from your mouth. Tastes like lemon-lime.
|
Not bad for a deadly poison is about all I could think before my consciousness began to slip away. I vaguely remembered the doctor running to catch me as the ground rushed to do the same and then nothing.
I opened my eyes to see the beaker shattered in front of me. It’s contests spilled and already beginning to dry. Weirdly everything looked a little green. From the dull orange glow on the walls I could tell the sun had begun to set meaning I’d been out cold for at least 5 hours. Realizing it had been a minute since I regained consciousness I began to stir. My body was still a little stiff from the impact I assumed. The doctor didn’t end up making it to me on time then. The doctor! I jerked my head up and turned it to the other side. He was lying a foot away from me. I turned away before I could see more but I’d seen enough. His eyes has dissolved and it looked like his brain had too or at least that’s what I assumed was seeping out of his nostrils and ears. Fear and confusion began to set in. How much longer before I died? Why hadn’t I already died? How is he dead if I had the poison? Lost in the rush of my thoughts I didn’t realize that I’d crawled away to sit up against the door of his lab. I could only see the lower half of his body from behind the table now. I can’t believe he’s gone. I tried to push up further away from his body but my hands kept slipping on the floor. In all the panic that struck me as odd since the floor was as dry as a lab floor can be. I looked at my hands and saw that there seemed to be some sort of oily layer on them. It looked a little green too. I traced my hand prints back to where I was lying and I saw a big patch of this same oil in the shape of my body on the floor there. It looked like a body outline at a murder scene except it wasn’t my body that was dead. I slowly stood up and walked around the table that hid doc’s body. It was exactly what I feared — he had the oil on his hands. The fingertips were already starting to blacken with a dark green at the edge. The implication was too much for me. I could feel the bile rising as I ran out of his lab.
Furiously pedalling my bicycle on my way home I didn’t notice the oil patches I left behind on the road or on the stairwell. I got home and ran straight to the bathroom. The last time my body was scrubbed so hard was when my mother took it upon herself to rid my body of its epidermis. I watched the oil swirl around the shower floor and disappear into the drain. A faint film of green over the soapy water creating a neat spiral. It reminded me a tree frog I’d seen on Planet Earth once. As I stepped out of the shower I towelled myself multiple times to be sure that I’d gotten all the oil off. Satisfied on not seeing the tiniest amount of green on my white towel I stepped out of the bathroom.
That was maybe the last moment of peace I ever felt. A fleeting sense of control before my worst fears came true. The poison seemed to reacted with my body in a way that is beyond my understanding. All I know is that I produce copious amounts of it through my skin now. Anything living that touches the oil doesn’t remain that way for long. Washing it away doesn’t help either. The news channels reported mass fish deaths in the rivers that handle our towns run offs. As far as I can tell even leaving it alone doesn’t make it any less deadly. Judging by my experiments on the flies that I managed to trap in my apartment it looks like the oil vapour is just as fatal. I’m scared all the time now. More than one person has died because of me — I think it was the oil I left behind on my way home. The news channels are calling it a chemical spill but I know it’s already gotten government attention. It’s a small town. Word gets around fast when outsiders come in. I’m starting to run out of food too now. I made a few grocery runs earlier but they’re too risky. I can’t control the oil and no matter how well I bathe it’s back within 10 minutes. I wish I had more courage. I would hang myself. Or burn myself. I don’t know. Anything but this. God, help me. I wish I could kill myself. At least death would bring release. Death would bring peace. God. The god of death. That’s what I’ve become. Maybe I’ll walk upto the nearest reservoir and take a quick dip. I’ll help millions that way. Help them find the release I can’t seem to find.
—————-
This is the first time I’ve ever written anything outside of my notebook and even that’s mostly just notes and bits. Not a writer by any stretch of my imagination but I’d like to try so please be generous with your feedback.
|
Authors note: I tried something different, a bit darker, hope you like it!
​
​
*Three days ago - The oceanic life research facility (OLRF) - Mariana Trench division, Indonesia.*
“Fascinating,” Amelia said.
“What’s that?” Daniel asked sipping his coffee, his earbuds in his ears like always.
“I said,” Amelia raised her voice. “Fascinating!”
“What’s fascinating?” Daniel asked taking another sip of his coffee.
“The liquid that new species of fish produces, the one we discovered last month,” Amelia said with annoyance. “One single drop of the liquid can kill a whale… What are you even doing now?”
“Drinking my coffee, with milk finally,” He answered.
“What milk, no one bought milk once again,” Amelia said.
“What was this then?” Daniel asked shaking the empty beaker.
Amelia froze instantly, could it be? No one could be that stupid to pick a beaker with an unknown liquid from the laboratory table, right? She thought to herself. Then again Daniel was, well Daniel the IT guy, he never really cared much about anything, living life on reserve power.
“Where did you find it?” Amelia rushed towards him.
“Here,” He pointed to the table where liquid from the fish stood minutes ago. “It tastes kinda funny though. Which kind is this, don’t tell me they mike out of limes now?”
“You idiot!” Amelia yelled.
“What?”
“You drank the poison?” Amelia frantically looked around the lab, hoping she was wrong.
“What? WHAT?” Daniel yelled the information only hiding him now. “No I took the white liquid from here, the milk.”
“That is the poison,” Amelia said. “It was white, like milk yes, but what the hell Daniel, do you even use your brain?”
“Oh my God, Oh my God, what do I do now?” He started pacing around the lab.
Amelia took a deep breath, trying to stay calm despite the panic rising within her. "There's nothing we can do now," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You should have been dead by now."
"What do you mean, dead?" Daniel asked, his face going pale. "Amelia, please tell me you're joking."
"I wish I were," Amelia said. "That liquid is highly toxic, and there's no known antidote. Well, we have just discovered it."
Daniel sank into a chair, his hands trembling. "So, what's going to happen to me?" he asked, his voice barely audible.
"Maybe it's not toxic to humans," Amelia said, her voice rising with hope. "Let's get you to the medical bay and see what we can do."
She helped Daniel to his feet, and they rushed out of the lab and down the long corridor toward the medical bay. Amelia was in a state of panic, her mind racing with all the possible outcomes. What if the poison really was lethal to humans? What if there was no cure, no way to save Daniel's life? Was she to blame? Was him?
As they reached the medical bay, the door slid open, and they were greeted by the medical team on duty. Amelia explained the situation to the doctor in charge, who immediately started examining Daniel.
"What do you say he drank, exactly?" the doctor asked.
“New poison from the new fish we discovered at the bottom of Mariana Trench,” Amelia asked. “It’s highly toxic, he should have been dead already.”
Doctor just nodded and continued to examine him. “He looks just fine, his vitals are up a little bit, but that could be from the panic. Let’s leave him here overnight and we will monitor him.” The doctor said.
Amelia nodded and said goodbye to Daniel leaving for her lab, hoping he would be ok.
*Two days ago - The oceanic life research facility (OLRF) - Mariana Trench division, Indonesia.*
\> 08:30 AM: SOS signal towards the mainland.
\> 08:36 AM: SOS signal towards the mainland.
\> 08:38 AM: All contact was lost with The oceanic life research facility.
*One day ago - The oceanic life research facility (OLRF) - Mariana Trench division, Indonesia.*
\> Still no contact with the OLRF
\> Rescue teams deployed to the OLRF location, one day to arrive.
*Present day - The oceanic life research facility (OLRF) - Mariana Trench division, Indonesia*.
“What do you think happened, Chief?” Henry asked his commander, Norris.
“No idea, maybe the power is just out?” He said.
“Don’t they have like a gazillion backup generators?” He asked.
“I don’t, I guess we will see in a few minutes,” Norris answered and turned towards the side of the chopper, looking out of the window.
As choppers drew closer they could finally see the OLRF in the middle of the thick forest. Seeing it this up close, the facility completely dark, a feeling of unease came over Henry, something felt way off. As they came closer and closer, they could notice that the windows on the second floor were broken and the front door of the facility was busted. Looking closer Henry saw what looked like a white lab coat in front of the building, and something red around it. No, it was a body in the coat, a body missing its limps laying in a pool of its own blood.
​
Like the story? Check out my sub for more r/LukasWrites
|
sleepgasm
|
Nellthe
|
2023-02-28 15:33:54
|
2023-02-28 15:29:24
| 102 | 60 |
jaczimb
|
jacyum6
|
11e4oe5
|
11e4oe5
|
[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."
|
Sam had read about isekai novels before, where a chosen few are whisked off to fantastic worlds, given epic quests, and become heroes in that foreign land. The most classic, of course, was to save a princess who had been abducted by a dragon, for which the brave knight would be rewarded by the princess's hand in marriage.
They'd never expected themselves to be chosen for such a quest though. Nor were they interested - lack of ability to fight a dragon aside, the reward wasn't quite interesting to them either.
"My daughter needs your help!" A booming voice atop a throne declared. "Should you be the one we are looking for, who fears not the wrath of dragons, you will be entrusted in her safety."
"This makes no sense, I'm not some warrior or adventurer, I don't know magic or witchcraft, how am I supposed to deal with a dragon?" Sam pleaded, hoping to get some sense into the king. "I'm just a babysitter!"
Besides, it doesn't seem like the princess needed saving anyway. The adorable toddler adorned in royal garb sat right there by her father's side, staring intently at her would-be protector.
The king laughed. "Oh, but that is exactly why you've been chosen. Perhaps we gave you the wrong impression at first, but no, let me make this clear. You are not saving my daughter from a dragon. She IS the dragon. You are going to protect her and keep her company until she learns how to control her magic."
Sam's eyes grew wide. They looked at the princess, then back a the king, then back at the princess again, trying to make sense of the situation.
Seeming to understand their confusing, the queen stepped out from next to the throne. For a brief moment, her irises flashed a brilliant red, her pupil thinned into a vertical line, and scales appeared around her eyes. She winked at Sam, giving them a reassuring smile.
"Go forth, my daughter. Meet your new friend." The queen gestured to the princess.
The little princess stood up, but instead of dove forward. Sam reflexively lunged forward to catch her fall, but before she hit the ground, she had transformed. Before Sam could react, they were holding in their arms the cutest little dragon they had ever seen, staring up at them with wide, brilliantly red eyes.
"Now tell me, do you think you are fit for this quest, young one?" The king asked.
Sam smiled. "Yes, your majesty, I think I am."
|
Audrey was close to being the strongest. She had studied under archmage and blademaster both. She had slain troll and ogre. Conquered ruins old and towers dread.
Before her stood a tiny little girl in red and Audrey gripped her sword hard to hide her trembling. For she was merely close to being the strongest .. human. And there was one creature no human had ever dared to try.
From a tiny hand a deadly flame roiled and spilled towards her. Audrey continued to draw in the air with her blade. With flow and footwork she weaved mana and magic. The flames could not touch her for she was a circle almost complete, a dance almost a song.
Before long the girl was spent and Audrey lowered her blade. Audrey had to admit she understood why her parents had hired her to reach their youngling. The puffed cheeks and teary eyes before her certainly did not give off the impression of a beast of legend. She fought the urge to poke those puffy cheeks or remark on the girls adorableness. It would be unprofessional.
Audrey started her questions and practice became lecture. Review and reflection. This little one was mighty but still had much to learn. In the back of her mind Audrey wondered at how her civilization still stood when a baby like this one could push her so.
...
Esmeralda was glad greater transformations hid some of the regular reflexes of the body. She was quite sure she would be trembling if that was not the case. She was close to being the strongest. The humans did not know but a wyrvern is simply a dragon of steel and stone. The more precious the scale the more powerful the drake. Esmeralda was born of father silver and mother gold. Yet she was neither. Her scales glowed the scarlet of rubies and her weyr sang that the future itself belonged to them.
Until one day the clouds carried news of the Old Warlock taking his first apprentice in 200 years. Then the wind whispered of Maestro Alfonso taking an interest in a promising new guildmate. They made the request more out of curiosity than any true expectation. But the first bout made it clear. It was true that Esmeralda was young. But her claws have rended the pride of drakes elder and her sorcery had bought confidence earned not misplaced.
Esmeralda was close the being the strongest dragon. Yet her claws could not catch and her flame have never touched. How can one finish a race that was a circle or land blows on a song? The little human even had the gall to complain that she wasn't complete! You mean she could be even stronger?!?
Esmeralda inwardly sighed and worked on her runes as she was told. It was old Fafnir who came up with the plan. The weyr was disbelieving at first but it turns out humans were horrible with money. Just a sliver of the hoard could buy the greatest hero of the age for a decade. So Esmeralda would stomach being little 'Emmy' for a while longer. It wasn't so bad really. She was actually learning things and to be honest she was curious about this 'krane game' thing that her teacher seemed to keep blowing all her pay on.
|
Daniel_H212
|
IcyInk
|
2024-07-02 13:31:27
|
2024-07-02 07:35:12
| 18 | 13 |
lba5a5p
|
lb948yi
|
1dt8ngh
|
1dt8ngh
|
[WP] The zombie apocalypse is here. The general public… actually has a better handle on it than the government does.
|
When the outbreak first began in the US, many of us assumed the worst to come and soon the Walking Dead or The Last of Us would become a reality. Most expected the first to fall would be the major cities and a quick end of order in society as a whole.
This shared opinion grew even more so as the military failed to contain the outbreak and even lost many soldiers sent to combat the infected, but by then, it was too late. Those government idiots actually tried to control the infected, to see if it could be weaponized. It all started with Patient Zero and a dozen other patients to whom they studied, instead of just putting bullet through their mindless skulls and saving the rest of us the risk of spreading the disease.
News spread like wildfire which is to be expected, some panicked, others remained composed in light of the news and even starting preparing to abandon the cities while others seemed excited?
It didn’t take long before a wave of infected made it towards the most populated area around the country, but instead of a city of cowering and defend-less mobs of people, the army of the undead were met with armed to the teeth, ready for action militia.
I guess the Second Amendment really did have its perks. Many people were armed with AR-15s, pistols of many varieties and even homemade explosives and tanks of gasoline.
“Yo! Hand me another gallon!” Tom voiced out casually as Jerry shifted over to his friend and handed the gallon of flammables. The two were both on the roof of a convenience store. Down below them, a horde of the undead stacked in piles, trying to reach fresh meat to convert in their ranks of rotten flesh. Their blood stained teeth chomping at the prey above them.
Jerry took a bite out of his sandwich, a turkey sub that he happily enjoyed, paying little to no mind to the stacks upon stacks of infected just a couple of feet below him. His best friend was currently dumping all the contents of the bottle in his hands onto the flesh eating animals below.
The man took out a beer from the cooler they brought with them and took a large gulp, “How many left?” Jerry burped as Tom took out a match, sliding the red tip across the box as a small flame appeared.
“Eh, I think they might be the last batch.” Tom shrugged before tossing the match over his shoulder. Not even a moment later, a bright flare shined as the horde began to burn into a crisp like the last mob of infected. The two friends merely sat side by side, ignoring the toxic scent of burning flesh.
“Wanna grab some snacks after this?” Jerry asked as Tone grabbed his own beer.
“Hell yeah.”
The two made a small toast as the flames died down along with the undead. They watched as armored vehicles, both military and self made, patrol the streets, either ramming into unsuspecting inflected or the gunner manning the machine gun struck them down.
All around the city, across America, people fought off the inflection like exterminators getting rid of several ant hills. Most zombie’s were gunned down, ran over or burned well done. Some didn’t even get the chance to bite their first victim before getting a bullet. Didn’t matter how many there were, folk just got to higher ground and pick them off. Although the zombies were terrifying in numbers, they lack one crucial quality, the human mind.
It seemed those movies and videos games seemed to be more than enough preparation for a situation like this. Teaching many what to do and what not to in a zombie apocalypse. At this rate, this crisis, if you can even call it that, would be over before dinner.
I guess we had nothing to fear after all.
|
A news anchor pulls his microphone close to his face. The cameras roll and he is set to the air- a young man, barely near his 30s with a mustache, stubble, brown eyes, and black hair with a red tie wrapped across the side of his head. He wears a patched up blue formal suit.
"It's day 217 of the people's apocalypse and I'm your host-- James Sherman! NOT BEN SHAPIRO WILL PEOPLE PLEASE STOP SAYING WE LOOK ALIKE-- anyways, as you probably know, the government has currently been at it's '30 hour strategy meeting' for the past 17 days now," James Sherman explains.
The camera man gives a thumbs up. A zombie down the street is filmed as a group of various fat and skinny men and boys with shotguns, and lead pipes, and bottled ships chase after it. The zombie slowly shuffles away, muttering something unintelligible as the people mercilessly hammer at its sunglasses.
"Uggghhh...Nooo...mhyyy...propherty! Pluhlease luheve me...aloohn-" the zombie mutters.
The camera quickly pans away as Sherman stares at the zombie.
"By the sacred roaches, they CAN speak! Oh man, mum isn't gonna believe this when she views her telly with her chips and tea-- anyways, since the government sought to end the 2nd amendment for all fellow Americans...", Sherman looks around for a moment before looking back at the camera, "...we had to look out for ourselves. For the people, am I right? The first few hours they locked us up and made us wear masks, but our brave middle aged mothers on survivor truth social out a stop to the federal government's meddling once and for all! Though they didn't stop the virus with those liquid tinfoil pills- not that I have personal experience with--"
A nearby car crashes into a building, speeding past in only the driver's half as it slowly stops next to Sherman like a taxi cab.
"Quick-- Sherman, there isn't much time! We must prevent the Anti-Zomboyz rights act of spanish-32 from being passed! I may be undead, but I'm still your great uncle on your mother's side! Whaddya say, huh?!" Uncle Zombie-Man asks.
Sherman looks into the camera. He breaks out into a sweat.
"Oh no...uh, who are you, eh he he..." He replies.
The camera man takes out a butcher's knife from his side pocket of his cargo shorts and moves near Uncle Zombie-Man.
Uncle Zombie-Man takes off his yellow rubber gloves and throws it at the camera man. The resulting mass of roaches nibble the cleaver to a wooden handle.
The camera man screams and attempts to punch Uncle Zombie-Man. Sherman stops him with a hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, man, we need to seriously get out of her. Prep the van and get going. If I'm not back, send my letter to me mum, got it?" Sherman asks.
The camera man looks confused.
"But I can take this monster down! Why not--"
Uncle Zombie-Man takes out a burning brief case from his half-car trunk and opens it.
"How's 1 million sound? Or a Billion? The bank payed a small fortune to get rid of me, so I can pay anything under 3 billion," Uncle Zombie-Man offers.
The camera man casts a meaty red glare his way. He strokes his mustache and goatee for a minute.
"Two and a half million. I'm not falling for your scam, and my survivor buckz are worth nada, amigo," he replies.
"I can do that," Uncle Zombie-Man counts the money.
With the money exchanged, the camera man loads up a white news van with a satellite on top. He speeds off.
Now that he can think, Sherman can tell that something isn't right-- people harass zombies that don't eat their brains like the movies, heck, even his great uncle who died 40 years ago came back like it's just another day in his life! The whole burning society, urban survival thing feels more like a pseudo survival aesthetic right now...
"I was wrong-- SO WRONG-- about everything. How can I help, uncle?" Sherman asks.
Uncle Zombie-Man puts on his chefs hat and straps on his high visibility construction vest over his formal mime suit.
"Like I said, we stop the passage of the Anti-Zomboyz rights act of Spanish-32. Follow me!" Uncle Zombie-Man races to the steps of a nearby business.
"No, wait, the city capitol is that way!" Sherman yells.
He races after his uncle.
A computer screen shows a gps location- Florida, USA. Status: average Tuesday. Deploying local military beer expert troops to neutralize threats for the next week.
|
Odd_Mobi4
|
None
|
2023-08-23 07:56:45
|
2023-08-23 01:39:56
| 53 | 12 |
jxdvbn1
|
jxctqmx
|
15yn1r3
|
15yn1r3
|
[WP] One day anyone who turned 18 was given a superpower of their choice. The only problem, they worked like usernames with only one person having that specific superpower. This created chaos, with the first gen almost ending the world. You’re a fifth generation user, and it was now your birthday
|
"Having grown up incredibly poor I knew I wanted a power I could earn money with, to help my mom and help my younger siblings. I considered every version of intelligence but from what I could see on the database I was screwed on that front, even in a different language. Same for strength, flight, teleportation, speed, etc etc etc. The list went on and on and on, of course it did, it covered billions of people and whilst we were taught how to navigate the database it was still fucking huge.
It was also drilled into us 5th Gen'rs how important it was to be specific, since when we finished typing it I that was it. Bad spelling included. The cautionary tales are wild.
But I needed money. My mum had eaten one sandwich a day for a whole week and I think the only filling was some cheap margarine. The sibs weren't doing much better and I couldn't keep lying that I had eaten at all.
And that's when I had that thought."
The interviewer nodded, everyone knew the thought now, many mad they hadn't had it themselves. For 10 years everyone had been jealous of this man, but he was the only one that thought it and he had used his gift to help not just his family but people from around the world. He waved his had for the man to continue.
"I remember sitting there, staring at the screen, reading about people who regretted what they chose, or couldn't get the one they wanted because it was still being held by some senile decrepid old Hero and the power wouldn't be available until they died. It just felt.... messy.
I thought *wouldn't it be better it we could swap*......
And that was it. I realised people would *pay* to swap powers! Old Hero with super strength in need of funds to retire and a young rookie desperate for a better power than 'see in the dark' could swap and pay for the privilege. It was perfect.
It took a few weeks for word to start spreading after I did it a couple of times but then it spread fast and before i knew there was food on the table every day, a roof that didn't leak, I helped my mom retire from her 2 jobs and sent my siblings to private schools. It's gotten pretty tiring recently though so i think I'll take a vacation as soon as I can."
The interview wound down and the photographer got some good pictures, the next day there would be a 4 page about the man who chose the super power Swapsies and how he was looking for someone to Swap.
|
Getting a superpower may seem cool, but by the time my generation came of age it was much different than you would expect. When the gift of superpowers first arrived there were no instructions, people just suddenly started exhibiting amazing abilities. A few things became clear early on, 1 - every superpower had been chosen by the individual that received it, 2 - the powers were not triggered until a person had officially turned 18, 3 - the powers didn’t always manifest immediately, some people gained them the instant they turned 18, others took hours, days, weeks or even months, and 4 - a superpower could only be manifested in one person at a time. It took until the second generation before it was discovered that point #4 was the reason there was a delay in some people’s manifestations - they were trying to choose a superpower that had already been manifested in someone else.
The second generation decided to go on strike, no one wanted to be a superhero because there was too much pressure and demand, especially for people with certain types of power. By the start of the third generation the governments of the world had already tried and failed to create a database of chosen powers, the official reason for termination of the project was it was taking too many man hours and costing too much money to maintain…unofficially, it was that most people had stopped admitting to their real powers. Somewhere near the middle of generation 3’s manifesting a rumour started circulating that you could gain your power of choice…all you had to do was find and kill the current owner of said power, the only problem is that by now no one was admitting what their power was, even amongst family.
Generation four was met by mass genocide, huge swaths of the population were being wiped out in an attempt to control the dispersal of the superpowers. This is where the story should end, but instead of being beaten and subdued the remaining people rose up and using their larger numbers and powers they were able to push back. When a stalemate was reached, it was determined that neither side would give in and eventually the peace treaties were forged. By the time the fifth generation was ready to manifest its powers a ceremony had been developed, each person was required to take part in this ceremony. The ceremony lasted for three days and consisted of many different tests and trials, at the end of which you were given a list of five superpowers you could choose from - these powers were determined by your placement and performance during the testing and trials, and were meant to better and strengthen you as a whole. No one was ever allowed to know what your list contained, they were only informed of what power you had chosen.
Today is my 18th birthday, there is no celebration, no ceremony, I will officially be of choosing age in 15 minutes. As I count down the minutes, I look around the little room I have never left and reflect on the stories and history my parents have taught me. Their parting words to me this morning were “You can be anything you want to be”.
|
TeatimeWithCake
|
DivineD1va
|
2024-07-19 09:24:47
|
2024-07-19 07:49:34
| 289 | 138 |
ldwkatn
|
ldwbw6t
|
1e6we32
|
1e6we32
|
[WP] You know, Butler, I heard that the mansion is haunted by a ghost. That's quite silly, sir. I've worked here for 228 years, and I've never seen a single ghost in the mansion.
|
Charles paused mid-sip of his cup of Earl Grey. “Pardon?”
Butler did not smile—he never did—but he gave his version of a smile, a slight curling upward of the right corner of his mouth and the tiniest crinkle beside his eyes. “I’ve never seen a ghost throughout my entire tenure, sir.”
“And—and you’ve worked here for 228 years?”
“Correct, sir. My mother was a maid here and wedded the cook. I was their child.” Butler brushed a nonexistent piece of lint off Charles’ shoulder. “Would you like some more biscuits, sir?”
Charles thought about it.
He would quite like some more biscuits.
“Yes, thank you, Butler.” Butler nodded, setting down the teapot on the table without a sound and making his way toward the kitchen. Charles, after brief consideration, resumed sipping his tea.
Stewart Butler—Charles had chuckled appropriately at the aptronym when he first heard the man's name—came with the house. The prior owner had made that quite clear, that the man had worked in their employ for many a year and could nearly manage the whole place by himself, though he was welcome to hire more staff if necessary. He’d first met the man a month or so ago when he toured the place, and been impressed by his professionalism and, well, his looks—his nicely pale face with neatly combed dark brown hair, the faintest hint of a mustache, white gloves, tall, but not so tall as to make a man uncomfortable. He’d had no issues with taking on Butler.
Charles considered the conundrum before him as Butler returned with a tray of biscuits piled neatly on a little white plate with a floral pattern, absentmindedly eating one and using the provided napkin to catch any crumbs.
“These biscuits are delicious, Butler. I presume you buy them from a baker in town?”
“I make them myself, sir. I’d be happy to teach you the recipe if you’d like.”
Charles dipped a biscuit in his tea, and decided to set the matter out of his mind entirely. People were always talking about how hard it was to find good help these days. Hard to do better than a man with 228 years of experience.
|
\*Note, the narrator of great age and Mr. Butler are separate characters because I misread the prompt and typed the whole thing out before I realized.
Mr. Butler laughed. For context, the Count had hired Mr. Butler after a member of the "casual servants", one Gerald O. Verdos, lost his unfortunate battle with Cancer, the Count's giant pet crab, who shot Mr. Verdos point blank.
"Why do you laugh?" I asked. "Do I not look my age?" I certainly hoped not. Brushing my cheeks, I felt for wrinkles, but nothing marred my good looks.
"No, no not in the slightest." Mr. Butler chortled. "But such a silly joke I'd never heard before."
"Mr. Butler! I never joke!" I stomped one foot, put my hands to my hips, and pouted. The new servant looked a tad put off, much like a disappointed father listening to his paraplegic daughter explaining to him her dreams of being a ballerina.
"Well, er... I suppose I ought to meet with the master of the house." Mr. Butler mumbled and stalked off to the Master's Wing of the mansion. I quickly stopped him, since the last man to go in there without good reason, a burglar, found Himself Dead shortly after. Himself Dead being the name of the giant octopus that guarded the master's bedroom, the burglar got away perfectly fine, if missing his clothes and dignity.
"You don't believe me?" I spoke, hoping to distract him with conversation.
"Well how can I expect a girl who looks no older than 18 to have worked here for two centuries? I'd need proof!" I leaned back and thought... Then I realized something.
"Mr. Butler, did you by chance have a paternal grandmother named Laurie?" His eyes widened slightly. "And would you recognize a picture of her at age 18?" His eyebrows closed the distance between them in a frown of fear. I pulled from a pocket sewn into my dress a black leather wallet, heavy and studded with metal spikes. From my wallet I read out a few gift cards. "Blockbuster, Neiman Marcus, Alpha Beta... Where did I? Oh other pocket." I unfolded a hidden flap on the wallet and withdrew a picture of myself and my friend, Laurie, together on the streets of France.
"Th-that is... What!?" Mr. Butler's eyes widened and his face paled even further than I thought possible. It was indeed his grandmother. "Y-you really are a... a g..."
"A grandma?" I offered.
"A gho..."
"A gorgeous looker?" I guessed.
"A GHOST!" He screamed and ran from the mansion. I barely got to the window in time to see him run out the garden gates. I crossed my arms and sighed. Pulling a flask from my pocket, I took a sip of water from the master's private fountain of youth, entrusted only to his most loyal servants.
"Ghosts? Pishposh. Ghosts aren't real."
|
DT_Redwood
|
Kliktichik
|
2023-10-31 23:50:16
|
2023-10-31 20:41:48
| 116 | 30 |
k7atj5a
|
k7a2fha
|
17ksis0
|
17ksis0
|
[WP] "Sure, it'll only cost you your soul" you used to jokingly say whenever you did something for free. everyone always got a laugh out of it, and so did you! until the first soul showed up in your living room with a very, very tired looking reaper.
|
Death looked tired. Oddly enough, this was the first thought Ed had, staring at the robed figure in his doorway. Darkened circles lined empty sockets, resembling smudges of ash on Death's high, bleached cheek bones.
"Can...I help you?" Ed inquired. Standing at a modest 5 foot eight, jeans and a t-shirt, coffee in hand, Ed didn't feel the least bit dead.
Death let out a very long, shoulder slumping sigh.
"Unfortunately, yes. You can stop bartering souls, for a start.", said Death. His sentence ended with a wheeze.
Ed, looking perplexed, uttered a simple, "Pardon?"
"Listen and listen well. As you can imagine, I am incredibly busy. I've spent the last week schlepping about with this. " Death paused to lift up something that resembled a glowing worm, about 3 inches long. He continued, "This unfortunate soul was SUPPOSED to be bound for Hell. I have a rather large bucket of these. I was unable to enter the gates until I had weeded out that which does not belong. Thousands of worms and I had to single out this poor....hmmm....plumber, was it?"
Ed sipped his coffee as he listened raptly. Plumber? Hadn't Joe, his plumber neighbor, passed away about a week back? They weren't exactly close, but Joe would frequently borrow his hedge trimmers. At this recollection, Ed choked as his coffee went down the wrong pipe. Hadn't he always joked and said, "You can borrow it, but it'll only cost your soul." with an exaggerated wink.
Death, not accustomed to human interaction, ignored Ed's sputtering and resumed, "It's not exactly unheard of, selling off your soul to another mortal, but there's usually some pacts written out, worked through the proper channels. It would seem you have...slipped through the cracks."
The reaper paused frequently and had a very slow, methodical way of speaking. Edward, himself unaccustomed to dealing with mythical beings, felt humor might be a good coping mechanism.
"Well, that's not all bad, right? If you were coming for me, I guess my name would be Deadward." he said, with a chuckle.
Death paused, raised a finger, paused again and inhaled, "That's...actually pretty funny. I enjoy dark humor. It might lighten my mood when next we meet."
"Won't be for a long time, yeah?" Ed asked, nervously.
"Oh, sooner than you'd think, I suppose. I'll be dropping numerous souls off for you in the future, quite regularly. You're in the books, now."
"Pardon?" The perplexed look had returned to Ed's face.
"You've made numerous contracts. Quite successful at it, really. I hadn't seen anyone collect quite so many since they were burning people alive for this kind of thing. Quite impressive, really. Would be nice if there were some award for it, but I guess the souls are enough. Anway, I'm off. Enjoy."
Death placed the small, glowing worm in Ed's hand and gently closed the recipient's fingers for them. With a rustle of a cloak, Death wrapped in on himself, slowly disappearing into nothing.
"Heya Ed!" screeched the little worm.
Eyes bulging, Ed jerked his head down to stare at the worm. At Joe?
"I reckon that hedge trimmer should have been lined with gold and did all the trimming on autopilot, considering the cost, eh?" Joe quipped.
Throat constricting, Ed croaked out, "What...am I going to do with you?"
"Could go for bit of a nibble, if you don't mind. Maybe a little nip of whiskey. I'm all out of sorts." The voice of the worm was high pitched, warbly and generally disconcerting.
Ed leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. With a brief shrug of his shoulders, Ed says, "Yeah, alright. In you go.", and carries Joe inside.
[Pt. 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/106i1sg/wp_sure_itll_only_cost_you_your_soul_you_used_to/j3hin01/)
Future additions will be posted to [r/EdandTheDead](https://www.reddit.com/r/EdandTheDead/). Hopefully every Saturday.
|
Another soul had slipped through Daniel’s letterbox during the early apricot morning, before he’d woken. This particular soul was a puddle of purple oil that had splashed onto his hallway’s faux-wood laminate.
Daniel took a out a brand new sponge from the cupboard beneath the sink, then held it softly above the soul; the purple patch oozed upwards in tears and bubbles until it clung completely, safely, to sponge’s surface.
“There we are,” said Daniel, as he placed the sponge on the kitchen table. “One moment, I’ll just fetch you a jar.” The sponge shook ever so slightly.
“Don’t be scared — things will improve, I promise. It might just take a while.” Daniel‘s house was packed with empty jars, like a sweet shop after a closing down sale. He picked an empty jar with a blue label clinging to it from off the windowsill, then with a pen, crossed out the name on the label.
Gingerly, Daniel’s liver-spotted hands twisted the sponge over the jar until the soul let itself drip into it. As soon as the lid clattered closed, the jar began to glow — lantern bright.
”Now,” he said, slipping on a pair of spectacles then holding the jar in front of his yellowing eyes, “let’s get a better look at you. See if I can’t work out where you belong, eh?”
He’d had a hundred souls or more come through his letterbox over the years. But it’d been at least two years since the last. Daniel had never caught the delivery person — only a glimpse once, through his apartment’s spyhole: a whisk of torn grey cloak spindling around the corner and onto the stairwell; the yellow ceiling light glinting low down, hinting at a bone-white foot.
The jar was steaming up already. Symbols were being scrawled into the purple moisture from the inside, as if the glass held a living finger rather than a soul.
For many years, Daniel had kept the souls he’d been given. His wife had encouraged him to release them, but they seemed happy enough on the shelves, painting their glass homes with the decorations of their lives — of books they’d written, of lovers they’d kissed, of rainbows they’d witnessed. They scrawled their lives onto the moisture of the jar like notes left from one lover to another on a steamed up mirror.
Some of these souls, through the various clues, he recognised. A primary teacher, an elderly neighbour. He remembered the promises these souls had made to him in life in return for a helping hand. Disingenuous promises — a harmless joke, really — but apparently binding.
Once, not long before his wife had passed, one jar on an old bookshelf became wildly animated. It shook and trembled and despite Daniel trying to calm its occupant (it’s okay, no harm will come to you as long as I’m here), the jar toppled from its ledge and cracked open on the floor.
The soul spilled out on the laminate to neve move again.
That was when Daniel finally made up his mind; when he listened to his wife. Together, they determined to solve every clue on every jar until they could scrawl a name on each label and know exactly who each jar contained. Then, they would return the souls to their families. Let their loved ones say a final farewell before releasing them.
Daniel sat at his table and watched this latest soul draw its own clues: flowers, hearts, a globe — a romantic spirit, he thought. A spirit surely happy with the life it led. He’d find its family and return it, when he could. He held a pen in his hand waiting for the clue that would jog his memory and reveal the occupant.
It wasn’t until this spirit began drawing rows of tiny jars, their lids slid off, and what looked like butterflies within leaping towards the clouds that he knew.
”Eloise,“ he whispered. His pen clattered onto the table.
More hearts etched themselves into the purple moisture.
His wife had died a year ago. Surely it couldn’t be…
But how many times had he done something for her, only to make that stupid joke?
He didn’t own her soul. Didn’t want to. Love didn’t work like that.
”I miss you,” he said.
A smiling face.
“So damn much,” he said, as he opened the lid.
The soul had warmed itself into a state like gas. It exhaled — the sound of a deep breath — as it left the jar. A tiny purple cloud, a butterfly if you squinted, feathered around his neck and ears and cheeks. Gentle as a kiss against his skin.
Then the cloud began to expand, the particles separating.
He smiled through his tears as the purple evaporated into the air around him.
He’d see her again, soon, if he was lucky.
|
Wambo_Jambo
|
Rupertfroggington
|
2023-01-08 15:39:44
|
2023-01-08 15:01:21
| 1,703 | 472 | null |
j3h21lz
|
106i1sg
|
106i1sg
|
[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
|
“May I have ice cream, **please**?”
“**Thank you** for helping to tie my shoes, Mrs. Baxter.”
“The answer is **144**.”
“George Washington was born on **February 11, 1732**.”
“I don’t know, Tommy. We **definitely shouldn’t play on the train tracks**.”
“His name is, **Buster**.”
“You’re so nice to me. I **like you, Sally**.”
“Sally, we need to talk. This has weighed heavily on my mind. **Long-distance never works out**.”
“An interest rate swap is advisable **when you would like to secure a fixed cost of debt service without moving to a traditional fixed rate loan**.”
“I really should study, Tommy. Plus, **neither of us should dabble with such a dangerous and addictive substance. It would be foolhardy and arrogant to believe we would emerge from the experience unscathed**.”
“Tommy was my best and oldest friend. I didn’t tell him enough what he meant to me. I never told him that I loved him. **The folly of youth: we think we’re invincible, that we have nothing but time; we favor the frivolous instead of the important, we value the trivial and take for granted the critical. I—just like all of you—wish I had a moment more with him, I wish I had gone with him, stopped him. I wish I had said more, I wish…I wish**.”
“**This merger will be beneficial to both entities. The strategic synergies are boundless, the fundamentals of the target are sound, and its market penetration allows us to reach demographics we would never otherwise be able to. The valuation, in my view, is more than fair, the payout will satisfy current shareholders and deter any derivative suits. We should be able to hit the ground running; our models estimate profits will scale to three-x by the close of fiscal ‘24. This will make us the largest quarrying company in the world**.”
“**Will you marry me**?”
“**I do**.”
“**Yes, Dear**.”
“**I was wrong**.”
“**No, that dress does not make your butt look fat**.”
“**We really shouldn’t have kids. Neither of us are realistically equipped for that responsibility. And look at the state of the world. We should not bring a child into this world just for them to suffer the consequences of the actions of those long-dead**.”
“**I will not get rid of my rock! My rock has been with me since I was a child. It’s not a problem that I’m always holding my rock. I love my rock. It makes me feel strong. No one thinks my rock is weird. They think you’re weird**.”
“**I think we should talk. I just don’t think you’re supporting me anymore. I don’t think this is going to work. No, this isn’t about the rock. It’s not us, it’s you. I just don’t think I can stand to be with you any longer**.”
“**I love my rock. My rock loves me. We don’t need anybody, me and my rock are free**.”
____
r/InMyLife42Archive
|
... 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.
|
None
|
fullsteam92
|
2023-02-17 09:46:06
|
2023-02-17 09:42:46
| 1,194 | 100 |
j8vyej3
|
j8vy61n
|
114diei
|
114diei
|
[WP] "There are three rules for mind-readers..." The man speaks sternly. "Don't read loved ones, don't reveal your powers, and NEVER try to read animals." He shivers a bit. "You probably think that last part is a joke but trust me; one glimpse into a horse and you won't be right for a week."
|
"...what's so dangerous about a horse?"
"Do you have four legs?"
"What?"
"Do you have four legs, and a tail, and a hankering for speed?"
"No! No, I don't!"
"And you're sure of that?"
"Yes!"
"If you read a horse, then you *won't* be. You'll try to gallop, eat some delicious-looking grass. You'll lose bowel control in an open field. You'll try to swat flies with the tail you don't have, you'll forget how doorknobs work."
"...permanently?"
"Nah, not permanently. Well, *mostly* not permanently. The mind *does* recover. You won't be right for a week - but you will be right, eventually. Mostly."
"...what do you mean, 'mostly'?"
"I... I made the mistake of trying to read a horse once, around three years ago. I *still*, to this day, can't get enough of going fast."
|
With the exception of the second one, these seem arbitrary
They are there for a reason
That being?
You don't want to know what your loved ones are thinking,the last time someone disregard that they fell into a depression and killed themselves a month after(kinda happens when your SO is a Piece of shit)
And the one with the animals?
I'm not gonna think of it,otherwise it will spread to you too
It can't be that bad Right?(is he exaggerating?)
I'm not
20 bucks says your just weak
Deal,but please don't do it with any predator,try a herbivore first,fine I'll just see some sheep then
A week later
*Slams 20 dollars on the table* what was that?
We don't know,most people kill themselves before they explain
*Looks around nervous for ANY animal* since when do all animals have become Eldridge abominations,of the n dimension?
Probably forever,since these rules have been in place forever
Why didn't you tell me?
Because you wouldn't listen(not the first time)
What you mean not the first time?
You thing you're the first person to get warned about it and still went through?
No, but seems like it wasn't the second or the third time this happened either, was it?
Nah,your is probably shy of the millionth time this decade
That doesn't explains why you don't take bigger precautions
Already tried it, so give it a rest
Fine( i wonder if a had seen a preda-)
Don't
Wh-
I SAID DON'T
|
CCC_037
|
rosolen0
|
2023-04-25 08:35:50
|
2023-04-25 01:04:15
| 109 | 34 |
jhmnsrc
|
jhlex7m
|
12y0z77
|
12y0z77
|
[WP] The alien leaders can hear the past of a species like it's music. The Slyth sound like hyms and peaceful chanting, the Goraz sound of drums and whistling. The newest discovered species are the humans and all that can be heard is grinding gears and screaming... Soo much screaming.
|
Screaming.
It was all I heard at first.
Then, it finally finished processing- It wasn't just screaming. The screams were a chorus, backed by the steady drumbeat of grinding gears and gunfire. Above the harmony of screams rose a melody of crackling flames and tears.
The gears, the gunfire- They progressed through pain. They progressed to cause pain. Great leaps and bounds, recorded by blood. Gears that broke those unable to catch up to the great minds, gunfire that took down those unable to fight back against the strong.
A chorus of screams, of billions dead at the hands of another. A child, a parent, a sibling, a friend- All of them faded into each other, indistinct from the rest of those who didn't last.
Crackling flames from a planet burned. Tears of those who couldn't survive.
We Kirath hear the history of who we meet in the form of music, and we have met thousands over the years.
The Goraz sounded like drums and whistling. They are new, yet to evolve beyond tribal, but what we have heard has given us hope. They are still young, and we can't say if we will always like them.
The Slyth sounded like hymns and peaceful chanting. They never progressed beyond their simple farming lives, even after millennia. They never stood a chance.
And humans...
Humans sounded like kindred.
|
Greetings, all members of the Galaxy Federation, we of the Hessian Delegation are sending this message to warn you of the newly discovered space-faring species called humans.
To give you a brief background, Hessian leaders can hear the past of a species like it's music. The Slyth sound like hyms and peaceful chanting, the Goraz sound of drums and whistling.
But these humans? Ambassador Torak and his band of diplomats went insane upon returning from his first meeting with humans to assess their application to join the Galaxy Federation. He would not stop babbling about how humans do not emit music but non-stop screaming after an unfortunate attempt to peer into their past.
These are his words:
All I hear from these humans are grinding gears and screaming... Soo much screaming. The screaming would never stop. Loud screaming, deafening screaming, cacophonous screaming. They never stop. What have they done? What have they lived through? What have they killed? What have they tortured? How many voices are in those terrible screams? I cannot stop counting the screams that never stop.
As of this announcement, Torak is still undergoing psychiatric treatment under our best psychotherapists but shows no signs of recovery. He has spent his days banging his head against the padded walls of the combined therapeutic wards housing his team of traumatized diplomats, trying to destroy his eardrums to silence the screams of the humans.
This is not a drill, this is a real warning.
Do not allow humans into the Galaxy Federation. They are not peaceful like the Slyth, industrious like the Goraz. They are a violent, cruel, war-like race filled to the brim with insanity.
We must not let the insanity spread to others as it has afflicted Torak. For the safety of the aliens of the galaxy, do not engage them, do not fight them, steer clear of them.
Stay safe, fellow members of the Galaxy Federation.
We pray to our gods of this universe the humans never find the rest of us.
|
starryeyedshooter
|
Tregonial
|
2023-05-30 06:51:52
|
2023-05-30 05:47:01
| 1,062 | 194 |
jm682dd
|
jm62tlo
|
13vdfux
|
13vdfux
|
[WP] A man tells a group of terrified kids around a campfire a ghost story, that took place in the same forest. Suddenly, the ghost from the story appears, slightly annoyed and trying to explain things from their perspective.
|
“Henry spent hours looking for his little sister, desperate to find her. But to no avail. Some say that she was kidnapped by an escaped criminal. Others say that the woods themselves took her. But what everyone agrees on is this: Even now, decades later, Henry haunts these woods in search of her. Howling for the little girl to come back home… And sometimes, he takes the ones who just look like her.”
Mark let the tension hang heavy in the air, holding back the smirk as he watched Jane and her friends inch closer to the fire and to each other.
Was it a dick move to scare his little sis and her friends? Kind of. But come on, he was missing party at Monica’s house for this. Might as well get a few laughs out of-
“Excuse me?”
Mark yelped as someone’s cold-ass finger tapped him on the neck. He was about to go off at the random weirdo until he saw just who it was.
Seven feet tall, skinny and pale, with their glowing with ghostly lights, the thing barely resembled a human and yet it was unmistakably the Howling Henry.
“The fu-?”
Howling Henry smacked him on the head.
“Language. The kids are here.”
Not an illusion. A guy in the costume, maybe? Whoever this was, he didn’t want to find out.
Mark put himself between Henry and the girls, pulling out the knife he took to carve some wood into the fire.
“Girls, get inside the car and-“
“I am not here to take them, Mark,” Great, the creep knew his name. “Okay, rude. I am creepy, yes. But a creep?”
“What do you want from us?”
“Honestly? I just want to make a few things clear here. Do you mind putting the knife away?” Henry pushed his hand towards it, letting metal pass through. “It’s cool that you are being a hero and all but it is just awkward.”
Despite his attempts to get the girl into the car, the entire group remained as Henry sat down near the campfire.
“First of all, you got the ages wrong. I was the younger sibling. It was her who dragged me here. I was just ten and so followed her without much questions.”
“Secondly, it happened during the summer, not the winter. I get it, winter sells the horror better. It is cold and gets darker faster. Plus, this was during the time when winter was generally the season of death. But for crying out loud, if you are going to say it happened in winter, at least change the part where both of us are wearing summer clothes?”
“Now finally, I never howled for her because I lost her. I howled for her because she left me. She led me into the cold and dark woods and disappeared.”
The group looked at Henry. One of the girls offered him her s’more. He took it and thanked her even if it passed through his palm.
“Why are you telling us this?”
“Because I am ready to move on,” Henry said. “I promised myself to find her and get my revenge. Or failing that, that I would haunt and hurt her descendants.”
He then looked at Jane. Mark reached for the knife.
“But I won’t. My sister may have left me to die, for reasons I will never know. But neither you nor your sister are to blame.”
He smiled, his fork growing more transparent.
“And I guess that’s the final paragraph to my story. Take care of each other, you two.”
|
By the time Tibo had sweat enough everybody looked around and truly wonder:
*Is this guy serious?*
They were not expecting such dramatic and violent tale.
And worst of all it was set up in the same place they were just camping for their long weekend.
​
Likankabur exploded in laughter and finished a whole can of his pale lager.
​
He manifested his apologies but still he didn't mean it.
He kept laughing and some of the foam could be seen hanging from his beard.
​
Tibo grabbed a stick and start drawing random figures on the soil trying to keep himself away from such traumatic experience he had just listened.
​
Malcom who had been attentively listening to the story was thirsty for more.
​
*Lika, but this tale didn't take place here right? I mean, it's all made up right?*
​
Likankabur spotted another opportunity to have a little bit more of fun, and why not crack another beer.
​
*Indeed Malcom, you're tent is set right where the murder took place. The bush right above your awning it's said to still hold dried blood. If you look over your shoulder, youh WHaHAHAHAH*
*HAHAH... Oh my god...... I can't....\*drinks a mouthful of beer\*... You should see your faces*
Anika stood up and kicked his cooler box full of beers cracking some of them open and spraying them all over:
*You are a sickward Lika, how dare you waste our time like this plus coping with your alcoholism?! Have you lost your mind?!*
​
By the time she had finished with her lecture the bonfire went out within a split second.
Everybody's eyes opened up and pupils went directly focused into the ashes.
There was no exception and everybody could feel how each of their body hairs erected since explanations were not going to be found for what was happening.
A strong and swift gale passed through and temperatures dropped almost instantly within the perimeter.
The scattered cans could be seen shaking all at the same time and off of the bush a putrid hedor could be smelled.
​
Likankabur legs started to move involuntarily and his eyes rolled over all the way to their backs.
He stood up from his chair and knee down right were the fire was lit.
​
He said with a otherworldly voice that this was nearly the 100^(th) time that this old man was telling the story about her dead.
Every time this happened her soul got awaken but the most evil kind of archangels in an intend of avoiding her eternal rest.
There was nothing that could help to leave her in peace.
He would come every second weekend of the month with a different group of people and would always have fun but getting drunk and bringing up her violent decease story in the middle of the night.
Smell of flesh could be sensed.
Linkakabur pants started to smoke and his skin was slowly getting burned by the contact with the remaining hot ashes.
The ghost promise everybody that nothing of this would be remembered over the next day, but the scars on Likankabur's knees would remain forever.
Malcom tried to say something but he had no control over his face muscles.
He looked around and everybody seemed hypnotised by all the current matters.
Tibo who was the most afraid had been laughing over the whole scene.
He could simply not conceive what he was witnessing.
​
Anika looked at her wrist watch and could see it's hands frozen.
She poked the glass with her right index in an attempt to revitalise it.
​
The smell of burned flesh started to penetrate everybody's nose trails til the point of becoming unbearable.
As if they had been under a spell, everyone stood up and removed Likankabur from the pit and placed him back on his chair.
Ice, water and cloths were brought over and a quick procedure was performed.
|
True_Falsity
|
CaptainCook1770
|
2023-10-25 16:14:11
|
2023-10-25 14:24:49
| 60 | 13 |
k6etfsz
|
k6ebpw9
|
17g3giy
|
17g3giy
|
[WP] After the Christian Rapture happened to everyone's considerable shock, those left behind (and those born to them after) all had a strange, unremovable marking appear on their foreheads. It took decades to translate, but the result was horrifying; "Do not harvest, not fit for consumption."
|
It was a day like any other when the earth shook violently and the skies suddenly turned bright. All around the globe same sight could be seen. People saw what seemed to be giant, glowing beings descending from the heavens, Angels. Angels were unlike anything anyone had ever imagined, with wings blindingly beautiful and an otherworldly radiance that seemed to emanate from their very beings. As they drew closer to the earth, people began to feel an unfamiliar discomfort.
Christians, true believers, were taken that day. Taken to eternal peace, while the rest of humanity was left to ponder their decisions. Angels circled the globe several times leaving an unfamiliar mark on people's foreheads as they left.
Everyone born after that day got the same mark. No one knew what it meant, the leading theory was that it branded them sinners, someone who would never be able to reach and experience what those people did on that holy day.
Since that day, Earth changed forever. Most people stopped looking for material success and turned towards Christianity. Years later first marks finally started disappearing and humanity found hope once again.
Five years later Angels returned once again, taking those whose markings had disappeared. That was a clear sign for humanity of what their goal should be.
Angels repeated the same process five years later and one of them spoke that they would continue to do so. Sins can be forgiven and people can be accepted and brought to heaven with them if they work hard enough, and devoted their lives to it. Almost fifteen years had passed after that holy day and humanity eagerly expected the return of the Angels once more.
All of this did not sit right with Marcus, a history teacher, who combed through every book he could find trying to decipher the strange marking. He found himself in Egypt, at ancient ruins, looking for the final clues, he was so close.
His children and wife waited for him at home, their markings gone almost a year now. His wife Vivian had begged him to leave this pursuit of his and join them, she could help him lose the mark, and become a believer. She could be his guide into eternal peace and ascension.
But Marcus could not let it go, he had to follow his gut. He brought his team of eight people with him to Egypt, and all of them shared the same feeling of uncertainty and eeriness that surrounded the Angels.
They combed through the ancient site looking for final clues, something was missing. Every translation they did reading the parts of the strange symbol made no sense.
“Boss,” Lorein yelled. “I think I have found it, come look at this.”
Carved into one of the stones was a part of the symbol that decorated most of the remaining humanity’s foreheads.
“That’s it,” Marcus said. “We have everything we need. Bring that whole block, we will have the symbol translated tonight!”
They spent the whole night translating the symbol and just before dusk they succeeded.
The message read: "Do not harvest, not fit for consumption."
It was a chilling revelation, one that sent chills through the team. The implication was clear: those who bore the marking were safe and the others were in grave danger.
Minutes later as the team was still proof-checking the earth shook once again and the sky became bright. The Angels have returned once more.
The feeling of dread and horror swept over Marcus, his wife, and children had lost their mark and he was on the other half of the planet away from them. He was right all along but he was too late, he had lost his wife and children.
One of the team members was unbothered by the revelation and angels returned and continued translating part of the stone they have found at the ruins. He finished the sentence that was written at the bottom of the stone:
“If they ever return, find me!”
[part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/118w5n1/comment/j9labxl/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3)
[part 3](https://www.reddit.com/r/LukasWrites/comments/119emsf/rapture_do_not_harvest_not_fit_for_consumption/) \- On my sub, easier to read/post as this post is getting pretty crowded.
[part 4](https://www.reddit.com/r/LukasWrites/comments/119gsw6/rapture_do_not_harvest_not_fit_for_consumption/)
[part 5](https://www.reddit.com/r/LukasWrites/comments/11a9sbq/rapture_do_not_harvest_not_fit_for_consumption/)
[part 6](https://www.reddit.com/r/LukasWrites/comments/11bsjtp/rapture_do_not_harvest_not_fit_for_consumption/)
|
Everyone remembered it like it was yesterday. Christmas, 1999. The more technophobic branches of society were busy fearing Y2K. Some apocalyptic events due to a computer bug.
Everyone wished they were that lucky. A quick death via the Walmart version of Skynet. What a time to be alive.
But no. Instead, the apocalypse came in the fashion many were unlikely to actually believe. Everybody's religious until actual angels are spotted. That's what happened. And then, people disappeared. Remember all those religious texts about The Rapture? God's chosen people ascend to the heavens and the rest of us are left behind to confront the apocalypse via legions from Hell.
Hundreds of millions of people around the world vanished in an instant. Which in the grand scale of things is already problematic enough. But it's not the people that was the problem. It's what those people were in the middle of doing, at the moment of being connected to God's Wi-Fi.
Vehicles crashed. Multiple infrastructure services, and resources collapsed for a couple of weeks. And generally the world shut down for most of a month. This isn't including things like mass panic, small civil wars, and generally idiocy that tends to occur when people assume it's the end of the world. You know, the usual.
Eat your heart out Y2K.
Then supposedly there would be several years of societal collapse and destruction before the second coming of Jesus.
"Well, Jesus never showed up. And neither did Satan or any demons. So I'd say we're in the clear." Parker said with a grimace. The irony wasn't lost on him.
"That's what I'm saying." Vinay agreed.
The pair continued scanning the various things around the room. In the 25 years since The Rapture, science had truly taken the wheel. Our differences were much more trivial than figuring out what actually happened that day. At least to learn why they each wore a cryptic symbol on their heads from that day forward.
Parker remembered the hours after it scratched itself in on him. A fun thing to occur immediately after losing your family. His mother and brother vanished, his father was killed when their driveless truck hit a retaining wall.
Vinay didn't fare much better. Famine visited his part of the world when much of the local farming community got deleted. Most of his family who didn't disappear starved.
"You know the thing that gets me." Vinay began, as they began working on the large skeleton in front of them.
"Hmm? What's that?" Parker agreed as they let the AI program begin reconstructing the odd symbols they found in the clothing.
"It didn't just take Christians."
Parker sighed. "I kinda' assumed that. The whole world doesn't believe in the same things. That'd just be vanity to think that."
"I know." Vinay continued. "Hindus, Buddhists, Muslims. Mormons."
"Exactly. The whole world got affected. Plenty of people told me their loved ones and friends got taken. Even people who didn't believe."
"So what does that tell you."
"Angels, God, or not..." Parker assumed. "It picked us at random."
"Like tending to a crop." Vinay explained as he checked the scans of the clothing. The symbols matched language used in the symbols on their foreheads.
"What does it say?" Parker asked from the skeleton.
"Do not harvest." Vinay paused. "Not fit for consumption."
The reveal was only a couple of years earlier. But the world erupted in confusion yet again at its translation.
"We're just food for them." Parker theorized.
Vinay continued reading what he could see. "We don't necessarily know that."
"If it was a rescue, you'd say it was a rescue. Unless we're talking tuberculosis, there's usually only one other meaning for the word 'consumption'."
Vinay grimaced at the idea. "We're the flock, they're the shepherds. Did I get that right?"
"Close enough." Parker brushed off. "So what happened to this guy? Thought they weren't able to be killed."
"You'd think that." Vinay said as he checked a work tablet. "Turns out being hit by a 747 at cruising speed does the trick."
They both looked over the shattered bones. The fanged jaw slack and broken. The wings that had been reduced to fragments.
"World's largest bird strike." Parker answered.
Violeta, their team's photographer, circled the body incessantly. She was busy snapping photos of the bones for later research. With new technology, came new chances to investigate past discoveries. She was there to document it all. She wasn't a fan of banter however; and so she continued silently despite their observation.
"Everything that comes in here just suggests what we keep talking about." Vinay said as he rested against a counter. "We're just food."
"What concerns me." Violeta spoke. "Every child born has the mark too."
"Not fit for consumption." Parker repeated.
"Yes." She said before setting her camera down. "But what if someone is born without it? After all this time?"
"...Be prepared." Vinay said as he looked at the bones again. "Because I think they're coming back."
---
Little bit of eldritch horror. Just a little.
r/Jamaican_Dynamite
|
Nellthe
|
Jamaican_Dynamite
|
2023-02-22 17:38:34
|
2023-02-22 16:56:18
| 562 | 110 | null |
j9kdk09
|
118w5n1
|
118w5n1
|
[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.
|
_bang_
"Why do they keep trying to pull that shit?"
_"Dunno Sidekick Boy."_
"I mean it's not like there's any sort of true equivalence. You only shoot supervillians. And only the ones that kill civilians. They shoot _EVERYBODY_."
Gun Man just shrugs and pops the spent shell from his gun.
"I mean it hasn't worked for the last 20 Supervillians. Why would they think it works for them?"
Gun Man sighs and says, _"Listen. My first supervillian said to me, if I killed them, the number of murderers in the world would stay the same ... so I decided to kill at least two."_
|
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.
|
joalheagney
|
021Fireball
|
2023-01-16 07:15:44
|
2023-01-16 04:35:05
| 152 | 21 |
j4k4nj7
|
j4jolgk
|
10d1qc6
|
10d1qc6
|
[WP] The lottery is a secret plot to catch time travellers. You have just been detained despite winning by pure luck.
|
"You thought you could get away with it, huh?!" he spit in my face. The man was wearing completely tinted sunglasses and leather gloves. His face, an uncomfortable amount of inches from my own, moved away, letting the bright ceiling light pierce my retinas.
I thought the knock on my door was going to be one of those TV guys with a vibrant suit and a large prop check. Instead it was two officers in matching black uniforms shoving me into a bag and throwing me into an unmarked van. I didn't think I was gonna be *that* unlucky, especially after winning the lottery.
He paced around the room, kicking the feet of my chair every time he passed me. "This is really where you scumbags get off? You have all of this power at your fingertips, and the smartest thing you do is the most cliche, *overused,* ***tropey*** ***shit!***" His veins bulged at the end of his sentence. He's more angry about me than whatever crime I committed. It must've been bad, because two other men with armed guns were guarding the exit to the room. The only logical explanation I have is that I was actually a sleeper agent. That couldn't have been further from the truth despite making more sense.
"What did I do? What happened!?"
"Don't play dumb, *clockhead.* You know what you did. How stupid do you think we are? People just offer huge amounts of money to the public with virtually impossible chances?"
"Isn't it just to exploit gullible people? I only played once, I didn't think I would win! I'm so sorry for winning!"
"You pulled the exact numbers needed for you to win. There's no such thing as a miracle, kid. For a time traveler, you sure are stupid."
"I didn't know that my mom's birthday and my area code were the winning numbers! How is anyone supposed to know that?! I can't time travel! That's impossible compared to me winning!"
"There's no way out of it, you dirty *timewad.*"
He spent the next few minutes stomping on my feet, making time-based insults, and yelling at me to reveal the licence plate of my time machine, until the one-way mirror on the wall revealed a couple of guys in a recording studio who made gestures calling him in. Next thing I know, a chloroform-soaked cloth is being put over my mouth and I wake up on my couch.
In the end I was able to sue the lottery company for not actually delivering my reward. They were bankrupt. They never had the money. They didn't even try to defend themselves in court. Next day it was like they never existed. Which was really strange, considering how much of this aligns with the bad dream I had.
|
The world is a harsh place. We prize everyone based on their talents and successes. Those who simply can do more, can do better, and can continue despite the obstacles--those ones rise to the top. They're the ones people view as the "greatest," or the "best." Money, fame, sex--whatever they want, they'll get it one way or another.
On the other hand, there's the type of people like me who exist as stepping stones to their success. I don't think "stepping stones" is even the right term. Maybe "footstool" is better. We simply exist to lift those who deserve to go to the top. Simple as that. Average, bound to normalcy and a trite daily routine.
Things changed though, be it through a twist of fate or just agony at the monotony in which my life has set itself in, because I decided to gamble and put my luck to the test. I rolled my chances for a lottery ticket, and there I was in front of the television eagerly waiting for the numbers to appear. I had randomly chosen the numbers because I didn't want to overthink it. I thought it would sting if I had used something personal and none of the numbers showed up.
Then, as the television began showing the numbers, the world felt as if it had slowed down. The first number appeared. It was the same one on my ticket. Then the sound began to drown itself out as the second number showed up. Then the third. Until the world stopped when I finally matched the last number.
It quite literally, in every sense of the word, stopped.
I looked at my television and the screen froze exactly at the numbers which were on my ticket. I got up from my chair and looked outside the window: the birds stopped midair, Ms. Gardner was at her yard frozen alongside her dog whose pee formed an arc beside a tree. It was all surreal, unbelievable! Everything just stopped...as if time itself had ceased.
A knock on my door eventually came through. In a world that has completely stopped. I would have normally hesitated at the thought; no average person is going to be able to knock at my door at this time, or worse, it might not even be a person. It might be something far worse and far more sinister.
Yet I knew I must carry on. It was heaps better than nothing. I slowly reached for the door knob, bracing myself for whatever stood behind the door. As I pulled, the hinges creaked, and a figure was in front of me. Thankfully, it was at least a human and not an eldrich horror.
"I am John Titor," he said immediately.
"By sheer luck, you managed to decode the winning numbers to the time machine. There is no time to explain, but because time has stopped, TEMPORAPOL will begin their chase once again. Those who fall into the temporal realm, by accident or not, will be hunted down. I am here to rescue you."
I gazed at him in bewilderment. Was this an act? I opened the door expecting answers, but I only ended up with even more questions. Maybe it would have been better if an eldritch horror had showed up instead.
"Take this," he said as he handed a gun over to me. "Keep that and hold on to it tight. It is your only defense from being stuck in time *permanently*." He began walking down the path of my yard and beckoned me over to his car.
"Now. Follow me. I could use your time-stopping luck."
|
GameSpection
|
mount_sunrise
|
2023-03-06 20:12:52
|
2023-03-06 18:15:15
| 202 | 19 |
jb6gvvh
|
jb5zkuj
|
11k4lei
|
11k4lei
|
[WP] "GO AWAY!" bellowed the dragon to the man currently pinned beneath one of their paws. "I've done NOTHING WRONG!" "You lie! You've slain dozens of noble knights over the centuries-" "In self-defense, because YOU ALL KEEP TRYING TO KILL ME!!!"
|
"You burned my village first, motherfucker!" I said, loosening my tattered clothes to reveal the remnants of the burn traveling down from my shoulders to my chest.
"Eww. Stop stripping—"
"That's not the point! You burned my skin. Look at it!"
The dragon squinted his eyes. "Really? That's it? My children suffer more burns than that."
"Because they are dragons, idiot! I'm not covered in scales like you shits!" I tried to squirm, to no avail.
"That ain't my problem," it mocked, raising its head as it gazed down. "Seriously, that's why you fuckers try to kill me every year?"
"My mother burned to death before my very eyes because of you!" I bellowed with gritted teeth.
"You humans have millions of females, unlike our kind. Just find another one—"
"Jesus fucking Christ."
"Jimmy!" The familiar voice caused me to perk up.
I leaned out my head to see my friend, the tank, standing behind the dragon with eyes of determination.
"Jimmy! I have come to save you! Fight me instead, you giant lizard—" The tank then promptly died with a flick of the dragon's tail.
"See!" I gestured with my palms. "That man did nothing, and you killed him!"
"I swear to god, I was just turning around to see him. He just happen to hit my tail."
"Hit your tail!? Brother, his head just got lopped off. That was more than just a *hit*."
"Hey! He said he wanted to fight!"
"Then what about her!?" I said, pointing at another corpse in the distance. "She was our healer. She wasn't actively trying to kill you."
The dragon raised a brow. "Oh shit. I killed her?"
"Motherfucker!"
"Again with that word. Please refrain from calling me a motherfucker. I haven't indulged in any immoral acts with your moth—"
"You literally burned her to death!" I bellowed. Again.
The dragon raised a brow. "Oh shit. I killed her?"
"You suffer from memory loss or something?"
|
Zorlance held the knight beneath his claws, his head poking out between two of his toes while everything below was being crushed.
“What…?”
“You keep trying to kill me! One day I’m minding my own God damn business over here and some asshole breaks in and starts trying to stab me, so I kill him because HES TRYING TO KILL ME. And now there’s more assholes like you coming every other week to try, and fail.”
The knight didn’t respond right away, just staring into the dark eyes of the giant dragon. “Oh…”
“Yea. “Oh…” Zorlance said, mocking the knight’s reaction. “I’ve got a wife and a kid, man. What do you want from me? Should I just let one of your mates kill me so he can go back to the kingdom and marry the princess? Fuck you, and the king. Princess Rosaria isn’t even into man anyway, if anything I’m doing her a favor.”
“I…uh….”
Zorlance took his paw off the Knight, and quickly picked him up with two fingers before he could escape. “I’ve got shit to do, do you wanna go? Or do you wanna chance at slaughtering me?”
“Uh…I guess I’ll just go…?” Said the Knight.
“Good choice.” Zorlance carried the Knight out of his cave, reaching his large arms over the pit of lava and putting him on the other side.
“Thanks!” Yelled the knight, walking to his carriage.
“Don’t mind it.” Said Zorlance, pulling what was left of the rickety bridge out of the lava.
The Knight returned home, much to the surprise of the king. The knight got on his knees in front of the king, bowing his head.
“Your highness, I’m afraid to say I wasn’t able to slay the dragon.”
“You were able to return? You’re the first Knight to ever make it out alive!” The king said with excitement.
“Uh…yea. It was…quite a tough battle?” The knight said hesitantly.
“Well son, you would be PERFECT for my lovely daughter!”
“Princess Rosaria…? If she’s okay with that.” The knight said, looking at the Princess out of the corner of his eye. Her expression less than pleased.
“Oh of course! Right beauty?” Said the king, looking over to his daughter.
Princess Rosaria nodded, her smile very fake. The knight only gave her an awkward smile.
“It’s settled!” The king took the knights arm, raising it above his head, “Everyone congratulate the brave knight!”
He smiled awkwardly, Princess Rosaria leaned into his ear, “Did he let you go?” She said, her voice a whisper.
“Yup.” He whispered back, still smiling awkwardly at the crowd.
“I assumed.” She said, sitting back in her throne.
|
Bob_is_a_banana
|
Tasty_Freedom459
|
2025-02-13 16:59:45
|
2025-02-13 16:44:06
| 305 | 162 |
mcksrtd
|
mckpemr
|
1iomse5
|
1iomse5
|
[WP] "Chess? I've been around since before humans invented the concept of games, so a game as old as chess would be be in my favour without a doubt. I would advice you to choose again, and pick something you're familiar with." Death said as they presented every board and video game ever created.
|
There was no game in the history of existence that Death did not know, nor any game He had ever lost. It was no wonder that the Reaper spoke with such utter surety and confidence.
Perhaps such confidence was earned.
Perhaps not.
Perhaps the Angel of Death was currently hopping on a single bony foot, while clutching a volleyball tightly in both arms desperately angling each jump to land in unevenly marked circles on the ground.
"And thirteen - There! The round is mine," declared Death.
"Nope! Sorry, you forgot to sing the _I'm Very Sorry_ song while you did it, that means you lose a point and I get one instead!"
The Reaper stood, flummoxed, as His voice snarled from His skinless face. "... But _you_ sang no such song when _you_ did it earlier."
"Right... But, I'm holding the Reverse Flag now, see? That means the ball goes to me, and I get a head start, while you recite the list of Presidents first-to-last! You can't chase me until you finish!"
The Fourth Horseman simply stared as the blond boy snatched the ball away, and began leaping off towards the opposing goal triumphantly. A moment of silence, before the Reaper dejectedly began. "... Washington, Adams, Jefferson..."
Perhaps Death had never lost a game in His eternal existence.
Perhaps.
But one thing was certain.
Death had never played Calvinball before.
|
"Okay...."
I thought hard as to what could help me win against Death. It was until then I realized: we had to play a game that relied PURELY on luck or probability. One where the skills of the player is NOT some factor.
The bony gaze of Death looked at me, knowing that I really had no chance.
"Well, thought of something?" Death said, the voice giving the feeling of my would-be opponent a smirk.
"Dice. As in just regular dice. No Yahtzee, no skill, just rolling dice."
Though the eye sockets were hollow, I could tell Death would of given me the most dumbfounded stare.
"You gotta be kidding. It's freaking game night man!!! We can't play something like simple dice rolling!!!! Come on, just pick something more fun than throwing dice!! The guys are already waiting for us to come out with a game and we ain't doing anything like last time when you pulled out that stupid homebrew DnD campaign where you railroaded everyone into working for your stupid donut steel elf queen."
The bones of Death cracked through the air as my bony buddy gesticulated harder than any Italian that had lived and died. He really wants this game night to be better than last time and I did promise I'd pick something better. I just don't want to lose to this jackass like before. Even when I railroaded the party to death, his stupid Drow bard 50 Copper just had to get a critical killing blow on my elf queen
".... How about Twister??" I asked as I pulled out the box from the closet.
"Twister? Hell, I may as well give it a try." Death said as his gaze relaxed. "And don't worry, I won't let any of my bones out to get the spots, I can play fair you know."
​
Game night was salvaged and all we had to do was gather with a few of the others in the living room. We got a few extra boxes since we had a few more people over. I figured it'd be better than playing chess since I think the last batch of waiting souls aren't really into playing chess.
|
TraskNari
|
weetweet69
|
2024-01-04 06:40:26
|
2024-01-04 05:36:13
| 54 | 13 |
kg8w50o
|
kg8pl8m
|
18xsoh8
|
18xsoh8
|
[WP] You were kidnapped by a villain and he gloats about how you're bait for his arch-nemesis, and you'll be dead soon. You sigh and just look at him. "Buddy, its not that hero you need to worry about....its my wife." and he looks at you perplexed.
|
I was trying to nap while this schmuck continued to monolog. It has been an hour already how long was he going to go on about it?
"Soon enough, you will bring Metal Man to me! Bwahahaha!"
I winced, and then looked at the guy.
"First, did you just actually say 'bwahaha'? That's supposed to be an evil laugh, not a word. Second, did you say Metal Man, as in Metal Man my liason to the League of Legends?'
The madman snapped to look at me, his cloak snapping behind him.
"Of course! I have information of you spending time with Metal Man, you are his friend!"
"Buddy, I have been working with him for six years. Of course he's my friend, but like...you kidnapped me over a B List hero? Are you insane?"
I should have known when I didn't recognize him, but I figured he was just a face I didn't know. I mean he could have been from the future, or an alternate reality.
"Do not try to trick me, soon enough-"
I stood, holding out the rope he had tied me up with.
"Look, for your own good, just take the rope and we'll pretend this never happened."
"Do you think you can avoid my wrath? I am the EverKnight! Lord of-"
"Yeah, I don't care buddy. I have to go before my wife finds out."
"Your wife? Bwahaha! I care not for some measly woman! I am-"
With a gesture the rope spun around him, and gaged him. He looked terrified as I began to tighten the rope around him.
"Shut. Up. If she hears you-"
I freeze, a chill up my spine. I jump back onto the chair, and spin the rope back around myself.
The next moment the wall collapsed, there was woman glimmering with stars was floating there.
She was Galaxia, Conqueror of Worlds. She was a huge threat to the entire world, much less any villain.
We'd met after her last Contest of Champions, a ritual she used on a world before she conquered it. It was a contest of skill, and while she had not lost, she approved of the spirit of the heroes she met, and agreed to give earth three years.
I being a journalist, tried to interview her. She almost blasted me to dust for the gall to try, but many villains tried that so I was used to. She was impressed.
An interview turned to a meal, a meal to a date, and then fours years later we tied the knot. Nowadays I had become far more powerful thanks to her, and some friends in the Tower of Magic...either way...
She was way out of his league.
"Hey baby, I am so happy to see you. I thought this idiot was one of your challengers, so I stayed put...just like you told me to."
EverKnight looked to say something but froze when Galaxia looked like she was about to kill him. Tonight was supposed to be our night.
"Baby, he is Metal Man's nemesis. Can we cut him a break?"
Galaxia frowned, to him it must have been terrifying. To me, it was a pout.
The ropes disappeared into starlight around me, and I had begun to float towards her. She wrapped and arm around me and I felt a sudden tug before we were taken away.
EverKnight sighed in relief.
"She gone?" Metal Man had arrived just before Galaxia, and remained hidden.
"Uh huh."
"Learned a lesson, huh?"
"Uh huh."
"Ready to go back to jail?"
"Uh huh."
|
"**RICHARD!!! WHERE ARE YOU THIS INSTANT!?!"** my wife bellowed out, judging by the booming and earth-shattering volume of her voice at that instant, to say that she was livid wouldn't be too descriptive in detailing how furious she was at that moment. I looked at my old foe and said with caution, with a little hint of smugness,
"Well, seeing how we're both going to die . . . well, less likely me. The worst I'll probably get is a decapitated head . . . but, you of all people would know that I can just regenerate once my head attaches to my neck. But you . . . . oooh, you're fucked . . . you don't realize it yet. I don't know what she'll use to- . . . um . . . anally pierce you. But it's going to be unpleasant."
My age-old foe stared at me, a little bit puzzled before saying quietly,
"That's . . . graphic."
"Well, yeah. That's what she'll do for going after her man."
My foe stared at me in disbelief for a second before he replied quietly,
"Really?"
I shook my head up and down, answering his question. He first reacted to what I said with a look of horror until a mischievous smile appeared on his face and he responded to my answer with a smile laced with sadistic intent and said,
"After I kill you, maybe I'll go after your new wife and torture her to death."
Upon hearing his suggestion, I shook my head in denial and replied in my best attempt to sound like Kevin Conroy's Batman voice when he's trying to be intimidating,
"No, if you think I'm bad, my wife is worse. I would advise you to stay away from her. Plus, did you really understand what I JUST told you about her? You might as well leave the country, leave this world even, and adopt a new identity on some far-off planet in the most desolate galaxy in the whole entire universe. Because if you cross her . . . every breath you take, every move you make, even every bond you break, she'll be watching over you. Waiting for the day when she crushes the life out of her husband's killer. You'll never rest easy, you will always be paranoid that today will be the day of your reckoning."
I smiled devilishly after saying that. I don't normally use that voice unless I am trying to frighten a person. But I guess it worked because I could see his expression transition from a look of murderous excitement, then deflate into anxious worry. Then the farthest wall of this abandoned warehouse crumpled like a bunch of toy logs. And my . . . VERY pissed-off wife stood in the wreckage. The only feature I could see whenever she got even a little irritated was that her eyes irritated red a little. Well . . . if her eyes were like a dam holding back a certain amount of light. That dam crumbled and her eyes were basically like searchlights trained directly at my kidnapper.
He stared at me, and I stared back at him with a smug look on my face that told him,
"What'cha gonna do now?"
His voice quivered while he said,
"*I-I'm going to release you, and I'm going to tell *your* arch-nemesis that he can eat a bag of dicks since he didn't even mention your wife."
"Oh no, *buddy. You made your bed, you might as well get comfy in it."*
I then raised my hand up and said helplessly,
"*This bad guy kidnapped and took me to this place by force. He's a very bad man who tortured me while you were looking for me . . ."*
I don't know if I am a sadist or what, but the reason why I quit the superhero grind was that I just stopped getting the feeling, the rush, of being a superhero. It became the same thing, day in & day out. I just started doing other things, finding & getting married to my now wife . . . who also was far stronger and better than me in terms of being a superhero. I just decided to hang up my attire and become a househusband.
|
SlayerRequiem
|
RoyalBeat710
|
2023-02-14 18:24:13
|
2023-02-14 17:56:24
| 146 | 39 |
j8j6e9y
|
j8j237y
|
1120hb5
|
1120hb5
|
[WP] You are the only S-Class (god-like) mutant at a school of super powered youngsters. Only the head master knows, and you try like hell to keep it a secret. But one day, that all changed...
|
All falling apart.
Declan could see it all falling apart. It was supposed to be different here, quiet, an unassuming way to be educated and contained. Hell, he hadn't had a fit in years, even before he'd arrived at Heuward Academics. And now it was all falling apart.
*"Hello, young'un. You would join our Academy?"*
*Declan nodded. He tried not to talk. His voice always seemed so strangely disconnected from the rest of his self - a tool that he held in his hand, picked up when needed, but otherwise alien. It seemed so incongruent with the sheer force he held - a child's voice, hiding the power of eternities. A nod or shake of the head usually sufficed, and if not, Declan had mastered the art of minimal communication.*
*It had unsettled the children in public school, but maybe here, where everyone was strange, no one was.*
*"Well, then, young'un, you know this is an academy for the supernaturally gifted, yes?" At Declan's nod, he continued, "well, then, young'un, what can you do?"*
*Declan took a moment, cocking his head to the side as he thought. A good question. What* could *he do? A very good question indeed. He righted his head, looked Sir Reginald Heuward in the eyes. "Anything, sir."*
*A false hope. It had been a false hope. Perhaps here in the land of the strange it was even worse when you were the strangest, but reason regardless, it had been a false hope. His academic skills held him through the classes, and the strict teachers meant that the classes were a safe haven, of a sort. A haven where he could look a person in the eye and be unworried.*
*Outside of the classes, however, he would be worried perpetually. Declan's official capabilities were Empathic Projection - the ability to share emotion between people, and his school mates did not see it as very impressive. They harassed him about it, but he dared not do anything - a hole in the dam led to a crack in the dam led to no dam at all.*
*They made him a laughingstock, a verbal pincushion, but though the words hurt, he found solace in his knowledge, peace in his own mind - but he'd made a fatal mistake. An escape gone haywire, a calming exercise out of order - he'd started imagining his bullies suffering, in pain. Originally, it had helped, it had felt good, an outlet for his helpless fury, but he'd felt it too deeply.*
*He'd been pushed over the edge.*
Jeremiah Thorise, or what remained of him lay on the floor, crimson blood and chunks of brain matter coating Declan and those within close proximity. They were all screaming, yelling, crying, and they just *WOULDN'T! STOP! MAKING! NOISE!* Declan told them to shut up. They, of course, did not comply, but he smiled in satisfaction as their screams made no noise. Quiet panic was fine.
Declan acknowledged the fact that he was having a fit. He was past the panic stage now, he was cold, furious, unforgiving. Soon he'd snap out of it, realize what he'd done, and start crying. For now, he killed another one of them. Samson Glovers, a 17-year-old who seemed to be incapable of shutting his mouth - until now, of course.
Declan smiled. It was funny, after all. He felt the sharpness fade, felt the humanity return, and his last perfectly rational act was to kill a third. Less to bother the Declan that cared.
|
Mimic
I'm not looking for a complex life, but that's really hard when life wants to make you complex. Mutants are rare in this society. Only about 1 in every 100,000 has some kind of abnormality about them. Some developed flight, super strength, telekinesis, etc. Simple things you know? My odds were slim, but I was born with a mutation. But it's complex... Messy.
If I could put it simply I can shapeshift. But it goes a little farther. I can copy the genetic makeup of any living thing I touch. I can create, replicate, copy, and manipulate the cells in my body to pretty much do whatever I need them to do. There are other shape shifters out there but they're powers only extend to shifting from one form to another, my shifting is more fluid.
But it didn't start out this way. My body would randomly shift and turn into grotesque looking forms. I tried to hide it from my parents but the day I almost devoured the family dog because we were having a territorial dispute was the day I couldn't risk their safety. So I left.
When the headmaster found me, he knew instantly what I could do. I never even told him, he just knew. like two apex predators we could sense each other and what the other was capable of. I don't know exactly what the headmaster can do, but I know that if we ever fought the city, or at the very least the surrounding area would not survive.
The first words he ever spoke to me were,"How do you feel?" A simple question with a not so simple answer. "Like I have the power of life itself in the palm of my hand. I can be whatever and whoever I want. I have the instincts of every creature on earth. I could probably cure every known disease or create a poise that kills the whole earth. It all a huge weight to bear. But I don't want any of it, I just want to live the way everyone else does. But that seems like an impossibility and I don't know what to do." The headmaster didn't say anything as I continued to talk about my problems. Problems that no one in the world has. When I was finished he simply said. "Then let me help you carry this burden, as long as it is yours.
Over the next year I worked with the headmaster to hone my mutation and push it's limits. The mutation that was on my official paperwork was simple shape shifting. We had decided that a chameleon was the only thing I could shift into, due to my fondness for reptiles and slight jealousy that they could fade into the background. As time passed I could shift different parts of my body into different forms. Growing new appendages was hard at first, painful even, but the headmaster helped me broaden my horizons and think outside the box by removing the pain receptors in that part of my body, then growing the new limb was painless and the pain receptors could be grown in after. It even got to the point where I could create cells that could harmlessly enter a human body via skin contact, have those cells create copies and then retrieve them back to my own body and duplicate the copies endlessly. Thus I could shift into anything and anyone and even use their powers if they also had a mutation.
Progress was slow but I eventually became a living embodiment of what genetics were really capable of. But this isn't the life I wanted. I wanted simple, so I pretended I was just a simple guy with a simple mutation. Until came the day when I couldn't pretend any more.
The Kaiju that attacked San Francisco was big. No one knew where it had come from, only that it rose from the ocean one day and descended upon the city like an avalanche descends on a helpless climber. The military was quick to respond but they were no match for the behemoth. It tore through buildings, bridges and anything that stood in it's way. Nothing could stand up to this monster, even with every mutant working together, it wouldn't be enough. There was nothing that anyone could do. We'll... Almost nothing.
|
Faendan
|
Knightsforever
|
2023-01-20 03:41:05
|
2023-01-20 03:14:26
| 32 | 24 | null | null |
10gh68v
|
10gh68v
|
[WP] „It‘s not what it looks like!“, your girlfriend shouts with panic in her voice, after you walked in on her in the bathroom and stare in shock at the remaining upper half of her body. Her lower half has turned into some sparkling goo that is slowly running down the drain.
|
Daniel sighed, heavily, as he watched his girlfriend dissolving in the bathtub. Her attempts at explaining the situation away had turned into incomprehensible gurgling almost immediately, as her sudden panic accelerated her condition, and she became an increasingly amorphous mass of sparkling jelly.
*She's sick. She's sick, and I love her,* he reminded himself.
She'd been so desperate she'd forgotten to plug the drain first, he noted. He didn't panic -- that was what the special drain trap he'd had a plumber install in the basement was for. He'd just let her go, and then empty the trap into the big plastic basin he bought for that purpose. Then he'd wait for her to come back to him.
He crouched down and picked up the torn mylar packet she'd discarded on the floor. He crushed it in his hand, gritting his teeth. He wished he could find whoever sold her the little baggie of *A-Morph.* He thought about turning their face into goo -- the old-fashioned way.
*You knew she'd relapse at least once. They all do, that's what the doctor said. You knew it wouldn't be easy. It's not her. It's the drug. She's sick. You love her.*
Silently, he stood, and trudged out of the bathroom, though the living room, and down the stairs to the basement.
*She's sick. You love her.*
|
“It’s not what it looks like!” Beth said with panic in her voice.
Her upper body was propped on the edge of the tub and from her rib cage down things got vague, she looked like she had melted and by the time her distorted form reached the bottom of the tub it was clear and completely liquid. There was a thin layer of her in the bottom of the tub and it slowly bubbled as the drain took it down with gulping sounds.
“How can it be when I’ve no idea what this looks like,” I responded, surprised at myself for finding the words.
“I thought you’d be gone for a few more hours,” she explained.
“Oh well of course, that is alright then,” I said wincing at the obvious sarcasm in my own voice.
Beth frowned, she hated sarcasm and I got the feeling I was somehow going to be in the wrong here if I let her put me on the back foot.
“You were supposed to be on location, this new job was going to be a big break for you,” I asked softly.
Beth looked down at the gurgling plug hole as if considering it as an escape route from the conversation.
“There was no job, I’ve been living in the pipes, I mean there was a job, but it evaporated before it started and you were so pleased for me I couldn’t tell you,” Beth sobbed.
My response, was stolen from my lips as one of Beth’s breasts fell into the tub with a splat melting away into the clear goo as though it had never been.
“Can’t you stop that?”
“Not once it’s started,” Beth said covering the distorted patch on her chest where the breast has fallen as if it was somehow more revealing than the intact bare breast next to it.
“I can’t watch this, I just nipped back to have a quick shower,” I complained, frustrated that I would need to return to the office sweaty and feeling ripe.
The plugs gurgling continued and Beth’s sheepish expression started to distort and she continued to soften.
I left the room as Beth lost her grip and slipped into the tub with a wet slap.
|
SilasCrane
|
ExhibitionistBrit
|
2023-01-02 18:16:02
|
2023-01-02 15:52:42
| 88 | 57 |
j2nq30v
|
j2n4i6l
|
101cski
|
101cski
|
[WP] When the apocalypse came and society collapsed most peoples' lives went to hell. Not yours though. You have never felt better and are thriving in the post-apocalyptic wasteland, much to the surprise of everyone you meet.
|
"Day 9467: January 7th 2050
A busy, busy day again. I'm only an hour outside of the Kingwood Sanctuary. My cart is loaded up with fresh supplies for the Conway family. The Houston Sanctuary sent along a big prize for the big wedding coming up. The first new generation are finally getting hitched and I'm here to see it happen."
I raised my rifle and take aim at a collection of zombies. Five sharp pops and five head explode. Several more rise up from the grass.
"Lesser horde on route, not too bad." I fired a few more rounds, before dropping my pack. A happy tune in my head as I charge towards the zombies. I fired the last shot of my rifle before dropping it to hang on my back and draw my sword. I cleaved one head off before punching another zombie back. I sliced through more of the dead singing out loud.
"Never gonna give you up!" I grunted as one clawed at my arm only to slip off the steel bracer and take an armored elbow to the face. I bashed it in the face with my sword's pommel. "Never gonna let you down." I slice another up the torso before beheading it.
One bit my leg and I raised my other boot to stomp it down off my shin guard. "Never gonna run around and dessert you." I hammered another one to the dirt before cutting its head in two. "Never gonna make you cry!" I felt teeth on my shoulder armor, and just threw it over my shoulder.
"Never gonna say goodbye!" I spun around and stabbed a mutant zombie in the face. It punched me back and raised it's scaled arm and swatted my sword to the ground. "Never gonna tell a lie aaaand!" I raised my sawed off shotgun to its face. "Hurt you!" I blasted it's head off before looking around.
"Small horde cleared, one mutant and fifteen normal zombies. No animals and looting." I spent a good fifteen minutes searching, the zombies and setting out the valuable items. "About a pound of usable scrap metal and a few old dollars as well as loose coins. Nothing good." I set them in a pile and used some of the moonshine to set them on fire and burn the remains.
"Ah, 25 years and the zombies are getting thin. Sadly it seems like the world is getting tamed. I used to fight them by the hundreds and get tired." I gave a sigh as I looked on. "Maybe I should settle down now. I mean, a 40 year old knight like me should have a wife and kid. Maybe a castle, but I don't know where to settle." I pick up my pack and just march on.
|
"Hail Satan." Said Martain as he walked by, and you nod with a smile.
"Hail Satan." Said Gina as she worked her way down the road on her makeshift crutches, and you nod to her with a kind smile.
The people of Cribbsville all file into your church as the bell strikes midnight, and you take the pulpit to administer your Dark Mass.
Your sinewy arms at the ends of which your bone thin fingers and their sharp black nails are held high in the air. The focus of all the surviving towns folks is locked on you as they stand at attention.
You bring your hands down to rest on the gold inlaid podium with the upside down cross. The cross wasn't always like that, but it was remade as most things were remade for the darklord at the end times.
"Thank you everyone, you may all be seated."
The people sit as one. Melanie, the girl that worked at Hot Topic sits in the front and smiles up at you. You can't make eye contact. Even when you're the mouth piece of Satan, talking to her is hard and eye contact is impossible. You fiddle with one of the dozen rings you bought from her over the last two years and promise yourself that you'll talk to her after service. Maybe you can take her to the Lake of Fire and ask what she's going to do this summer?
You realize that you've been quiet in your own thoughts for a little too long and clear your throat.
"Everyone knows that long winded sermons are a thing of the past, no longer will Paemon nor Festrusk speak through me for hours on end, our darklord feels that even though they would be appropriate torture, they are too close to regular church services so it will just be me and you all from now on and I'll keep them brief."
There were some glances exchanged, but the crowd stayed silent.
"I charge you all today to go forth to Springville and visit upon them heckling in their efforts to build a church to their fallen God. Remind them of all they have seen. Share with them the words of conversion as I say them to you now."
You pause and make sure they're all listening. They are. You push up your glasses and look down to the charred parchment with words scrawled on it in the blood of angels.
"Hail the night for the darkness is here. Hail your lord Satan for the end is near. Hale of brimstone, snowflakes of blood. You silly Jesus lovers will go back to the mud. Heaven has fallen and God is dead, come to Cribbsville if you want freshwater and bread."
Reaching under podium you grab a stack of parchment with the words written on them and hold them out.
"Jessica, please hand these out." The preachers wife stands and takes the leafs of parchment and begins to pass them out.
"Thank you everyone. Service is over. Please go and spread the good word to the people of Springville."
The people stand and begin to talk among themselves, and the church fills with the noise of people readying themselves to leave, and you remember to remind them of Satan's latest memo.
"Everyone, please remember, the Son of Satan Daemon will be in town next week, and we're having a potluck! Percy, I expect to see your famous fruitcake!"
"
|
LordVulpix
|
AnAuthor_Antonio
|
2024-12-28 22:12:34
|
2024-12-28 22:00:11
| 161 | 45 |
m49ccqo
|
m49a5s4
|
1hodnru
|
1hodnru
|
[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.
|
"Hey, punk! Whatcha lookin at?" I glanced over at the people who, I suppose, were trying to harass me. I hadn't been looking at them, as a matter of fact. Didn't even know who they were. But now looking at them... hmm. The Shift hadn't been kind to them. There was little doubt that before it they were horrible people, and that certainly hadn't changed for the better.
"I wasn't? I've just been exploring-"
"Oh, don't give me that! I hate people staring at me!" I tilted my head, causing me to need to push my hair out of my face, off the face mask I wore. I'd become largely androgynous after the Shift. I didn't really mind. It let me see both sides of the line, so to speak, without committing to either.
"...What are you looking for, exactly? I doubt you're harassing me for no reason."
"I hate quiet people," he growled.
"So you want me to shout my head off?" I looked around. "Seems like a bad idea for me to do that in the middle of a crowded street." His buddies chuckled a bit, but his face puckered like he'd had a lemon.
"No, idiot. You're going to buy me something really nice."
"I am?"
"Yes. And then you're going to thank me for not pounding you into the dirt where you belong."
"I'm not interested, but thanks for the offer."
"I'm not asking." Ah. A belligerent dude with a micro-brain. Well, I had ways to deal with that.
"Ah, you should have said so earlier! But, first..." I held my hand out, in a sort of "hand-it-over" motion. "Would you please give me your name?" The man opened his mouth, but then paused. The way I spoke sounded... odd.
"...Why?"
"How else am I going to know who to give my gift to?" I took a step forwards, reaching for my mask. "And, while you're at it..." I pulled off my mask. "Would you give me your face, too?" The man and his friends screamed, absolutely booking it. I laughed, putting the mask back over my face. I wasn't sure why the Shift had replaced my face with an endless black void... But it was surprisingly fun to pretend to be something supernatural.
Well, that was a fun diversion. Now where was I? Ah, yes. Heading to that café I heard so much about. I think I'll treat myself today.
|
When the news started rolling in, my first instinct was to text my friend Austin and ask if he was pranking me. He once managed to trick me into thinking I'd pulled a Rip van Winkle and woke up in the year 7003, so there's not much that I think is outside his skill level when it comes to pranks. In response, he texted back a pic of himself, at which point that theory was discarded with extreme prejudice when I saw that he now looked like Castlevania's Alucard as a ginger.
Once I'd regained my mental faculties, I made my way to the bathroom and steeled myself for what I might see. All my life I tried to be a good person, to be someone dependable, honest, and just. There were times where I even thought I succeeded. But those were few and far between when you have a family like mine.
In my mother's eyes, I couldn't do anything right. I was a failure when I couldn't do something and was incredibly lucky when I could. If I didn't help someone I was selfish, and if I did help then I was "obviously" just hunting for a good feeling. I was only ever her idiot son. It was like any sort of kindness or even basic empathy had been wrung out of her and onto my little brother, leaving me to wither.
Eventually my curiosity regained control of my mind and steered me into the bathroom. I took a deep breath and turned on the light. Once the spots cleared from my vision, I actually gasped out loud at what I saw.
Staring back at me in the mirror was...a woman.
My hair was a light brown bob cut with a bit in the front that hung just slightly over my eye. Freckles dotted my cheeks all the way to just above my soft, peach-colored lips. My body was smooth and soft to the touch from my shoulders and arched back to my perky bubble butt and shapely legs. On a whim, I pulled up the long t-shirt I wore to bed. Hiding beneath was a pair of perky C-cup breasts which I found I simply couldn't keep my hands off of.
As I savored my new body, I thought back to all the times I felt so gross from hanging around the other boys or putting on a tailored suit for events. It all felt so obvious now that I was looking back with this perspective. I reached out, just stopping short of physically touching the mirror, and quietly said, "I'm trans." The way it rolled off of my tongue felt like the end of a long speech.
But more so than the revelation of my true self, it was the other realization that made me feel incredible: I was a good person. The actions I performed, the things I did, they worked. Even when I heard my mother's voice in my head trying to convince me otherwise.
I laughed joyously for what felt like an hour before I got on with my day. I texted my boss and told him I was taking the day off. I had a new body to style and buy clothes for--and more importantly, I had a need to show the world who I really was.
|
ArbitraryChaos13
|
jardanovic
|
2023-02-23 01:26:35
|
2023-02-23 01:23:24
| 496 | 197 |
j9ml9n6
|
j9mktrd
|
119gjg2
|
119gjg2
|
[WP] The Elven Kingdoms call their old allies the Humans for aid. Expecting medieval armies, they get a modern 21st century one instead.
|
"...it has been a few thousand years," the desperate letter continued, "but I hope that this time you might send me aid."
Ashcroft, the most senior surviving elf, and the only living elf to have ever visited the humans on earth, paused his etchings on the stone-paper tablet. He wanted to say more, to express the gravity of his people's situation, but he had already written enough. Humans were a simple people, mostly illiterate, so he ended the letter there and signed his title:
"- The Lord"
_
----------
Lord Ashcroft rode his horse through the mountain pass. His last few hundred soldiers would hold the line here. He gazed out to the valley below, and beheld the Enemy, in such numbers as to cast a shadow on all the plains as far as the eye could see.
"It has been three days" Ashcroft said, "not much time for the humans to bring many forces to the mountains around their city of Uruk, but we have no more time to give them. Prepare the portal."
_
----------
The elves stood in battle formation, shields stretching the width of the small valley. The Enemy's battle horns were blaring, and the ground shook to the beat of their drums from the feet of a million soldiers. The first wave of foes was rushing in. Battle was upon them, and the melee would start in about 20 seconds. Their last stand.
"The portal is ready, my liege" called a Lieutenant.
Ashcroft turned to the portal, and saw the beautiful Earth again for the first time in millennia... and were those giant mosquitoes? There were also a lot more birds than he remembered, and they left a trail of cloud where they flew. Beautiful, but irrelevant. Sadly, Ashcroft saw just one soldier - a old man in flimsy fabric armor, with seven stars on his left shoulder and a cross upon his right...
The man spoke.
"Too tight for air; danger close; artillery then Abrams. God speed."
Upon those words being uttered, the ground of the Earth erupted with a million belches of flame, and the very air was filled with sound as arrows too fast to see shot through the portal and fell upon the ranks of the Enemy. Birds of flame followed, dying in a thunderous conflagration as they fell upon the far field of battle. The ground then moved, as bushes revealed themselves to be horseless chariots, roaring into the valley. Ashcroft's men broke ranks, parting in the middle, and the bushes accelerated forward towards the Enemy, smashing into them without breaking stride and crushing them beneath their giant wheels. Already there were ten, no - twenty, now thirty bushes in the fray, with uncountably many more lined up behind the portal.
"Does this thing open any wider?" Asked the man.
Ashcroft stood in shock. What was he witnessing?
"Yes!" shouted a bridge mage, and the swirling portal swelled to encompass the whole sky.
"Artillery, hold fire; air support, move in."
Ashcroft watched in awe as the flock of birds - numbering in the thousands - turned as one and raced towards the opening. As they approached, Ashcroft realized how mistaken he had been. Those weren't birds - they were dragons.
|
Mankind does not remember history well. Lots have been lost, lessons not learned and opportunities wasted. But one was never forgotten, never lost.
So when an alarm went off in a small nondescript building somewhere in Africa it immediately was noticed and acted upon.
​
A tall man with steel grey hair was watching a game on the TV when his armband gave an alert. He glanced at the display and saw the words “cradle open” with big blocky letters. A moment of shock, then resolve covered his features. This was not a drill.
​
30 min later 1500 men was ready outside cradle. The one memory forever kept, the gift of life once given to humanity by the elves, letting us into this haven where humanity had emerged unto the land of Africa so long ago at this very spot.
​
It was time to repay the debt.
​
The tall man looked out onto is men. All of them veterans that came from all continents of the world. Everyone exceptional warriors equipped with the best gear humanity could muster, or the worst, depending on what your viewpoint was. This was weaponry without any restrictions, just pure destructive malice. This was not weaponry meant for human targets. This was meant for genocide, and the tall man saw that it was good.
​
Manetheren Godwell was shocked as the human army started running through the portal. He had been told by the sole human who came through the minute the portal had opened that an army would shortly be ready, but that usually meant months at the shortest. How had they been ready that fast?
Thousand of them came through before the torrent ended. Godwell walked over to the grey haired human who clearly was in charge to ask him how this could be.
The human heard him approach, turned and said:
"We have not kept other gods than you
We have kept the pact
We have honoured your name
We have remembered transference day and kept it holy
We have honoured our parents
We have protected human life to the best of our ability and multiplied
We have remained faithful
We have honoured the law
We kept our word
We did not covet a return"
​
Godwell, a little flustered by almost forgetting the ancient manners answered as he was expected to:
​
“I see, and it is good”.
​
Formality thus concluded, the human nodded, turned to his soldiers and issued a short command. The human army moved.
​
Goodwell watched as they moved unto the battlefield. The stalemate having been nearly unmoved borders along the battlefronts for months, with the dead bodies of both sides piling up in the middle. Like a nightmarish border between paradise and hell.
He was about to issue a warning to not enter the deadland when the humans unleashed their weaponry. First trails of smoke, fire and the screams of banshees, then unending booms as the other side of the battlefield disappeared.
Everything engulfed in smoke, flames and screams. This went on for an impossibly long time.
​
Goodwell and the rest of the elves fled to escape the sole crushing noise that threatened to banish their sanity. From a hill at a safe distance Goodwell turned and was once again shocked by what he saw. The destruction was still going on, but it was not just the frontline as he had first believed. The line of chaos reached for miles behind the enemy line. The unbridled aggression from the humans had obliterated enemies, land and any animals unlucky enough to have been in the area of impact.
​
A horrible smile washed across his tired face. He had unleashed a terrible weapon upon the world. A weapon capable of crushing the only force who had never faced defeat before.
And he saw that it was good.
|
njormrod
|
Pantonetiger
|
2023-03-27 22:58:47
|
2023-03-27 21:35:04
| 76 | 56 |
jdxmrzo
|
jdxayy3
|
123gamg
|
123gamg
|
[WP] You're a boy who has watched as, once a year, your father and all the men in the world disappear for a day. Your mother always assures you that everyone is alright, but you're terrified because, this year, you legally become an adult.
|
Dad set his hand on my shoulder reassuringly. His sunburnt face creased in a familiar relaxed grin. I looked nervously into his eyes, once the same denim shade as mine, now a little faded.
It was still a jolt to find my gaze on a level with his. In my imagination, Dad still towered, a six foot giant with powerful hands--but I was six feet tall now, too.
Mom smiled, handing him a sack lunch. I had watched her prepare one with love every year on the Eve of the Vanishing. This year, her manicured hand held out a second paper sack, top carefully folded, for me.
I took it in a shaking fist. Mom tiptoed to kiss me swiftly on my newly stubbled cheek. "Don't worry, son," she said with a proud smile. "See you soon!"
Her red-lacquered fingertips twinkled a goodbye wave as Dad and I stepped out the front door. I followed him out to the truck.
"Dad?"
"Yes, son?"
"Where...where are we going?" I asked, as we swung into our seats. The heavy doors closed with a thump. Dad turned the key, and the engine roared to life.
He narrowed his eyes.
I felt my heart thump a little faster.
"Son," he said quietly, at last, "we're going fishing."
And we did.
|
***11:30 pm day before day of yearly rest***
I was really scared. I couldn't sleep. This was the day, the day all men disappear. Everyone told me it was alright, no one gets hurt when they disappear. Dad even told me he it felt like the sleep he could have had when he disappears. Mom said she'd save my favorite food after the party. But no one understands I'm not afraid of disappearing.
***11:45 pm***
I'm thirsty but I can't be bothered to stand up with every minute that goes by the closer it gets. Tears are starting to gather in my eyes as I stay in my room. I can hear a lot women preparing to celebrate. I can't join in, it's time for to rest after but I can't relax. My skin crawls and I feel my feel more wrong as I can't relax even though I'm a ***~~MAN~~*** now and I just curl up on myself desperately hoping. I cry.
***11:50 pm***
I'm a man, I'll disappear and I can't stop because I'm a ***~~M̴̤̜̽̑̌ͅÄ̶̼͇́͌̈́N̸͙̔͑̚~~*** ,I can do nothing to stop. I can't change anything now, it's too late. Once I disappear I'll be a man no matter what.
***11:59 pm***
A minute is left nothing I can do. I stop crying and sit up. Everyone's told me this would happen. That I'll disappear because I'm a **man.** I just stare at the clock as the second go by...
**5** ***11:59:55 inhale***
**4** ***11:59:56 exhale***
**3** ***11:59:57 I think***
**2** ***11:59:58 this is***
**1** ***11:59:59 goodbye***
***12:00:01 am***
As a tear struck the floor and women's cheers were heard from outside I was still here. I didn't disappear. All I could do that dawn was cry tears of joy. As I went out my room after an hour I wondered how my mom would react.
I hope you enjoyed my first short writing thing, for those who don't understand>! it's about a trans person thinking she'll disappear proving she's not a girl!<
|
None
|
uwahhhhhhhhhh
|
2023-06-16 17:52:46
|
2023-06-16 16:16:05
| 498 | 268 |
jodl1ci
|
jod73du
|
14awtz0
|
14awtz0
|
[WP] You wished to find a dragon to slay for its treasure. Now you're not sure how to feel seeing a thumb-sized dragon try to drag its single shiny copper coin with it as it runs away from you.
|
The heavily armoured man sat down at the bar with a heavy sigh.
"Ale," he commanded simply. The bartender, knowing his disposition just from the tone, obliged.
"Rough day?" he asked and started pointlessly polishing a wooden mug.
"A rumour of a dragon that turned out..." the warrior sighed. "Wasn't what I was expecting."
"A failed hunt? It got away?"
"No, it's... the damn thing was the size of my thumb," the warrior complained. The bartender stopped polishing the mug for a moment.
"Say again?" he said.
"It was... tiny. I dunno if the rumour I followed was by some bumpkin unable to recognize the thing was harmless or a prank, but... it was this tiny lizard guarding a single copper coin."
"Huh," the bartender commented plainly. "So... what did you do?"
The warrior looked at him wearily and passed him a single copper coin. "For the ale," he said grimly and finished it. The bartender gave him a disapproving look but accepted the money.
The warrior got up with another loud sigh and headed for his room, wondering what to do with his new roommate; a very small and very happy dragon resting atop a shiny golden coin.
|
"Hey Lili, got a present for you," I said to the woman who ran my favourite tavern as I sat down. I deposited the little nuisance into her outstretched hand and it hissed at me. Ungrateful thing.
"A... what is it?" She asked, peering down at it.
"*That*," I said flatly, "is the dragon of the Northern Mountain that Lord Whatzizface is using as an excuse to raise the taxes. Because that thing couldn't ravage a pantry, much less entire counties." I took a deep drink of the ale she served. It was wet and satisfied the thirst. That was all that could be said for it. "What the hell are you using to brew this swill? Oats?"
"Fuck you too, Ricko," she said absently, stroking the head of the thing, pushing it's copper coin further into its grip with her thumb. It chirruped at her. "You're just scared, aren't you, sweetie? Don't worry, Mama's got you now, nasty ol' Ricko can't scare you anymore."
"Me, scare *him*?" I snorted. "That thing bit me! I wasn't even pointing a sword at him."
She ignored me, crooning at the thing as she walked over to the fireplace and ladled out a bowlful of stew. Lili might be a tad experimental with her alcohol but she was a past mistress of the stewpot. As I ate, the tavern's three cats all jumped up on the table and glared at me. It wasn't their usual baleful stare but more a non-verbal declaration of their intent to murder me.
I looked at them and looked at Lili, and said, "Oh shit," as I realised what I'd done. "Well, uh, maybe a dragonet in the clowder will help with fights?"
They indicated very clearly that the dragonet would not be part of their clowder, nor would they allow it to be an ally. And that I had better be well out of their reach when I went to sleep tonight.
As they jumped off my table, I glowered at the thing as I took another mouthful of drink. Bloody nuisance.
|
SirPiecemaker
|
Houki01
|
2023-02-05 14:53:04
|
2023-02-05 06:56:48
| 91 | 42 |
j7badzr
|
j7a72he
|
10tx0ci
|
10tx0ci
|
[WP] You, a side character, watch in horror as the MC forgives and doesn't kill the main villain, who murdered your friends and family, saying, "If I killed them, then I'd be just like them."
|
No.
All of the thoughts in my head, all of the feelings in my heart, and all of the scars along my body coalesce into one definitive word as I stood back and saw Brandon lower his gun.
“If I kill you,” the moron continued, although my blood was pounding too hard to fully hear, “I’ll be just like you. No, you need to face the full might of the judicial system and face punishment for your crimes.
That was a joke. It had to be, nothing else made any sense. Blood was dripping off of both our hands, both metaphorically and quite literally. My eye twitched as my hands began to shake, and I slowly lowered them to the only weapon I had yet to throw or run out of ammo for: my old derringer, passed down from father to son for generations.
“Y-You’re letting me live?” Even Duke Rogers seemed surprised at Brandon’s change of heart. Not shocking, considering the list of atrocities he had committed was longer than the damn Bible.
“T-T-Thank you so much!” The scumbag stammered out, still knelt at the feet of Brandon. “I’ll change my ways, I promise! You’ll only ever hear the people singing my praises from now on!”
No.
*Not a fucking chance.*
**BANG**
The report of my derringer sounded out in the lavishly decorated room, fine artwork and gold-inlayed mahogany everywhere. There was silence for a brief moment, then the thud of Duke Rogers’ body leaning onto the ground, an eighth hole freshly made in his head.
Brandon stumbled back.
“What the fuck?!” He shouted, raising his pistol and pointing it at me.
“Why the hell did you do that?!” His face was red, eyes wide.
It shocked me at that moment just how little I cared. All the suffering I’d undergone, all the people murdered in the name of greed, all of the families torn apart to fuel the war machine. It all turned into sheer, unadulterated bliss as I stared at the corpse of the man who orchestrated it all. My mouth twisted into a smirk, then a smile, then a full blown rictus grin as a chuckle bubbled out of my throat.
My gun fell to the ground as both my hands raised to my face, held to the side of my head as my chuckling turned to howling laughter.
“I said why the fuck did you do that Sam!” Brandon yelled again, pistol shaking as he clenched it harder.
I turned to face him, trying to force my laughter to stop so that I could talk. But it was like trying to stop a volcano mid-eruption, and I just stood there, staring face to face with the coward. Both of our eyes were wide, his in rage and mine in euphoria.
Finally, I forced out one sentence through the echoing howls of my laughter:
“*I won.*”
|
Shelia chuckled softly to herself, shoulders gently shaking.
Bran, his hand low and open in supplication was staring at her. His last words echoed in the plush club room. The male still grasping his other forearm, tears in his eyes stopped in confusion. Not once in thirty years had Guile's club had an echo.
Guile slowly released Bran's arm moving back ever so cautiously. His club was swept for bugs daily, the soundproofing in each room immaculate, his plans had never leaked before their execution due to his diligence. The echo had spread coming from too many places to be possible. ".. just like them."
"Then you are as worthless as the rest of this world Bran." Shelia looked up to them, still standing too close for blood to have not been shed. Her hazel eyes had shifted in the dim lighting to a dark mahogany. "You do have your uses for a time I suppose though." She flicked her right hand as the doors closed swiftly but whisper soft. Her left had crooked a finger toward them and chairs flew, slamming into the men's legs forcing them to sit. Making a small squeezing gesture the chair arms wrapped in the men in place.
"What is this?" Bran got out before Shelia made a zipping motion and his mouth shut. He struggled against the chairs grip but no more noise came from him. Guile had remained quiet. He knew what was coming.
"You may have noticed your hunters haven't been responding lately?" Shelia's mouth hadn't moved but her voice was wrapping through their minds like silk. She stared at Guile as she continued, "All those towns and cities where we had searched Bran. All those buildings we were finally led too. All abandoned before we arrived. They were not as empty before you decided that dawn was always the best time to 'go in'." Bran's face showed only confusion as Guile nodded slowly in acknowledgement. "Bran never questioned my need to be alone, to prepare for confrontation, before every club we visited. Tonight, at this club, I told him I could not be prepared for more disappointment. He finally decided to move swiftly." Shelia stepped back, her hands lowering to her sides as more people moved out of the shadows. Seven, in total men and women each staring at Guile while Bran writhed in his chair. The silence heavy as Guile looked around him. Realizing how many reports had been lies.
Seven voices rang out into the silence, "We are Fate Incarnate. No one and nothing can stop Fate. You may have murdered many but out of each death you orchestrated a new Fate came from the survivors. The wronged souls your people missed. Your time is done."
As one the seven bowed their heads as the shadows converged on Guile. Bran closed his eyes straining to not hear what could have been terrifying.
He heard nothing.
Bran shuddered out a soft sob as he opened his eyes to look. He was still seated but no longer restrained. His breathing loud in his own ears. Shelia was the only remaining person he could find.
"You will be spared so that you can tell what happened in its entirety. In this world of terrible deeds and good intentions there are and always will be an accounting of actions taken. You were not spared for sparing that monster. You were spared because someone needed to witness."
|
Round-Ad-692
|
Known_Sugar_5901
|
2024-03-09 06:20:54
|
2024-03-08 16:23:40
| 25 | 11 |
ku1ap5p
|
ktxnso6
|
1b9dtij
|
1b9dtij
|
[WP] A hero's work never ends. You became a litch out of necessity. The next hero would not be summoned for another thousand years and you were old. You planned to stay around long enough to pass the safety of the world on to the next.
|
Every one, at least once, has considered life to be tiring. A never ending crusade against a force you know nothing about. Some days you are so tired that breathing becomes hard and you think, wouldn't it be better if you went to sleep and never woke up.
Those people who choose the never-ending sleep have a choice. To be, to exist, to live, to fight.
He never had a choice. He was chosen to fight. A fight he knew will never end. He could only stem the tide. Maybe the next one could be more than he ever was.
Maybe the next one would turn the tides instead.
But the wait was long.
But he would persist. He always has.
*
He heard the screams. He always heard them. Someone was hurting. Someone was always hurting. But he had to stop those who hurt them.
He stood on his legs that were more bones than flesh. His flesh had started dying out a century ago.
But he had to do this.
Who would save humanity if he gave up.
*
His body broke even more every time he used his powers. But he didn't care. He couldn't afford to care.
He only had to hold down the fort till the next one came.
He just hoped his decomposing body held out till then.
*
He lay on the floor of the villain's lair. He wanted to say he was tired but he wasn't. He was defeated. Not by some meager villain but by his body.
"It doesn't take much to defeat you, shadow." The villain laughed.
Indignation swept through him. He wasn't defeated by him. His body has started to finally give up.
His decomposed flesh was melting. His bones left the faint trace of bone dust when he walked. But he didn't give up.
He will not start now. Only a few days remained till the next one came.
Only a few days.
With that thought in his mind, he gathered all the strength he had and pushed up to his feet.
"What would an old corpse like you could do?" The villain sneered.
He felt the power flow through him. He smiled at the villain watching his face fall.
"Enough." He said and let the power take over him.
*
He lay on the floor. There was nothing left of him. Just his consciousness hovered around. Waiting for *the one* to free him.
"I have some huge shoes to fill." A soft voice reached him.
Relief flooded him. He wanted to say so many things but words never came.
"You can rest now." She said gently.
Thank you.
*
[You can find more of my stories at r/iknowthisischeesy]
|
Everyone thinks the prophecy will happen in their times, I met at least eight other adventures that said they were the 'hero'. I was sure I was the hero for an embarrassing amount of time. It wasn't me. I learned that the hard way when I died for the second time. This was when my god told me to stop my delusions and think for a moment. I was furious, and broken.
After a sad year of alcoholism, I realized something. My god knew. I stole books and prayed hard until I talked to them and they resisted hard. But I did it, probably out of annoyance. And I was told the hard truth, it would be a thousand years and I would never see them, help them, and they would like to fail like the ones before them. What sent me over the edge was that they would possibly be the soul meant for me and my soulmate had we both had lived to our wedding day.
I asked for immortality. I was told I was arrogant and to be grateful for this information at all.
I knew these were likely lies and that I didn't need them to see my should-be child.
I dropped my religion and other worldly attachments. It wasn't that hard, most had been wounded or died long ago. And then went my dark descent. I had familiarity with killing so making and sustaining my soul with life forces to make my weapons and armor. And stealing from the Cosmic one was the hard part. I still think they let me steal their tooth. I consider the two were in league to make me the living dead. I am very much dead but very much alive.
None of the countless loudmouths that smashed my door in was my child. And I counted the years away but lost count of the dead. Good thing I could use their lives to extend my own. With twenty years left, I began to plan. A simple encounter that ended in my death and the Cosmic tooth as a weapon to break apart the corrupt gods.
And then I waited.
And I waited.
And I waited some more, brushing away the children like nothing. And then it was the year and my child came. I stood from the throne as they knocked away my hell hounds, telling me they weren't completely weak. They could have been stronger. I had to admire their eyes, so full of life and determination in a new way. Just like her parents. I knew it was her, she had his birthmark. And as she almost took the 'final blow' against me, a chime rang out, and she froze into stone. And then she burst. And so did the rest of them. I was shocked. If I had flesh it would have shown. And then suddenly I had flesh. It was terrible regrowing my flesh and the chimes ringing out, making my new flesh ears ache.
I was new, young, and fresh. I cried from my heart breaking and my bones creaking. Those bells were smug as they rang out if a bell could be smug. When I looked in the mirror I realized I now had her face. And her birthmark. I didn't know what this meant, this was never in the plan. Was I know the hero? Would I have to wait another thousand years? For the first time in over a millennium, I cried. No matter what, the gods would die. Damn the prophecy, damn the gods. No Cosmic horror would survive me. After all of this. No one would.
|
iknowthisischeesy
|
Crafty_Lavishness_79
|
2023-07-25 03:54:55
|
2023-07-25 03:19:39
| 63 | 45 |
jtcbktc
|
jtc7j6e
|
158s14x
|
158s14x
|
[WP] They said that you could never save the kingdom, that you would fail and die miserably, because you were not the prophesized hero. And when you returned after saving the realm on your own, instead of welcoming you as a hero the king banished you, as it was not your place to save them.
|
I tilled the soil for what felt like the fourth time this. Then the rake broke on me. My last one. I didn't have enough money to buy a replacement. I had enough- I simply threw the now useless rake on the ground in anger and stormed back into the house.
About 50 years ago, I took up the Holy Blade of Maelmasi to save the kingdom. The people- even the priests- mocked me. They told me that, because I wasn't the hero mentioned in the prophecies, that I'd fail spectacularly and die in obscurity. I didn't care at the time- the Dark Hordes were advancing and I wasn't going to wait for some "hero from another world" to suddenly pop up out of thin air to save my hide or anyone else's.
So, when I finally defeated the Lord of Shadows all by my lonesome, even bringing his severed head to the gate of the palace, I was expecting praise and cheers from the townsfolk and the king. At first, I *did*. Then I took my helmet off... everyone's demeanor changed. The king, who only *seconds ago* was beaming with pride and joy was now looking at me with scorn and... just pure *hatred.* The people stopped cheering.
Then without any hesitation, the king told me that I was not a hero. That I'd *stolen* the "true hero's" destiny, and had spat in the faces of the gods I'd revered so much. That I was a thief, a deceiver, a heretic, an apostate. *A traitor.* Then, he... he ***banished me.*** Banished, from the only home I ever knew. Furthermore, he stated that if I ever were to show my face in his kingdom again, I would be executed on the spot for my "apostasy." The people of the city jeered and booed and threw things at me as I rode away from the place that now hated me... for ***saving them.***
I sat down at the table and downed more cheap, poorly made ale. I lowered my head, and wept to myself again. All that pain I'd suffered to save my kingdom, and this is what I had to show for it? A run-down farm in the middle of nowhere, from which nobody wanted to buy a single grain? ...why?
I got up to where I kept my treasured mirror. I took a look at it. All those years ago, when I looked into the mirror after claiming it, I saw the occasionally scarred face of a hero who went above and beyond to prove himself. A savior. Now, when I look at it...
...all I see is a tired old man who nobody cares about anymore.
|
"What?!" I shouted at the top of my lungs as my words echoed through the great hall, I traced back a few steps as I tried to process the words said by the king.
"You were never meant to save us! It was never prophesized!" The king pointed at me with a boney finger as he looked down at me from his high throne. The two guards at the base of his chair took steps towards me as I paced backwards.
"I- but... I saved you! I saved you all! How could you do this?!" My face formed into distraught and anger, my hand was now placed on my sword hilt.
"We were never meant to be saved!" The king laughed.
"What?" I spoke at a lower volume and my voice was shaking slightly, "What do you mean? I did this for the good of the people! For the good of YOUR people!" The guards continued approaching me, now with their weapons drawn.
"I don't give a damn about the people!" The old man continued to laugh as he slouched on his throne. I didn't dare to speak again, for it was only to be met with lies and heresy. My body became rigid as my sword was suddenly in my hand, I raised it to face the guards. One guard attacked me with a steel mace; he was much larger than me, and a lot slower. I nimbly dodged around him and hit him in the back with the hilt of my sword, trying to leave killing to a last resort, he groaned and stumbled forwards. The second guard then attacked me, she was quick as she swung her axe towards my chest. I pulled my blade up and barely blocked her attack, "This fighting is futile!" I heard the king shout.
He just made me even angrier. I pushed the guard forward and kicked her leg in. I leaned in and stabbed her through the stomach, which led her to sharply gasp as I retracted my sword. The other guard shouted and hit me in the shoulder, which was luckily one of the most protected parts of my body, I cursed before stumbling backwards. Pain stung through my arm for a second, but I recovered quickly. He swung violently and randomly, but still slowly. I grunted as I returned blows, hitting his limbs, which cut past his leather armour. He groaned through the pain but continued with his constant attack, which caused me to retire back.
He trudged towards me as I pulled out a knife; which I threw into his neck, it caused him to splutter as he dropped dead. I sheathed my sword and walked over to the body to pull out my knife. "You won't get away with this!" The king shouted as he stepped down from his throne.
"No..." I stood up and took a step toward the small elder, "Quite the opposite." He looked in fear as my sword was pulled from its sheath and traveled through the king's head. His face was cleanly separated from his frail body.
Blood stained the blade as I retrieved the head and held it by the grey hairs left on his head. I walked out of the great hall and looked upon the citizens of the kingdom, commotion was heard from below as I held the head up high for all the people to see.
"People of heaven!" My voice shouted. "We are finally free."
|
ProphetofTables
|
Retr0Ruler101
|
2023-12-31 04:36:21
|
2023-12-31 02:35:31
| 25 | 17 |
kfnpdd6
|
kfn830d
|
18uju5p
|
18uju5p
|
[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
|
Oh God oh no oh no oh no—what the hell did I *do*? What did I do? Last thing I remember I was juggling flaming bowling pins at the mayor’s re-election gala—pure art, pure chaos, no harm! Nobody even got *singed*! Then some bright neon blur tackled me into the dessert table. Face full of tiramisu. Felt like a human freight train, but with abs. That much I remember.
And now—now I’m here. In… this place. White walls, everything humming like a science lab but too fancy. Too expensive. No restraints, which feels like an oversight, because I’d restrain *me*.
A big logo on the wall. Can’t read it from here, but I know that symbol. Everyone knows that symbol. Great big corporate-funded justice nonsense. Heroes. Actual *heroes.*
WHY am I here? Why didn’t they throw me in jail? I’m not hero-sick, I don’t want redemption, I don’t want therapy, I just want to mess with people. Mostly. Politely. Mostly politely!
Footsteps. Heavy boots, serious boots. Oh no. Oh God. Play dead? Too late. Door opens and oh crap, it’s her. Her face. Her *chin.* How is it that square? Like geometry came alive and decided to shame me.
“Good. You’re awake.” Her voice is a gravel road.
“Y-yeah.” Smooth. Real smooth.
“You’re lucky Nightshard didn’t kill you.”
Nightshard? Who names these people? Was it the neon blur? *Abs of steel, brain of oatmeal*. Figures.
“Uh, yeah, lucky,” I mumble, and she sits down. Sits DOWN, like we’re old pals catching up.
“We’ve been watching you, you know.”
“Y-you have?”
“Your tricks. Your stunts. You’re small-time, but creative. Messy, but clever. No fatalities, minimal injuries. You don’t even steal much.”
“Hey! I steal plenty!” Why am I defending my villainy to a literal superhero?!
She smirks. Smirks like I’m a toddler in a cape. “Sure. Listen. The league has a proposal.”
A proposal. From the league. For me. A supervillain whose last *heist* involved glitter bombs and a rubber chicken.
“W-what kind of proposal?”
“Community outreach.”
“Community *what*?”
“Team morale has been… tense. We need someone to shake things up. Keep people on their toes. A *designated nuisance*.”
My jaw is on the floor. Literally? Maybe? I can’t feel my face.
“You want me to annoy your coworkers?”
“Yes.”
“For money?”
“Yes.”
“And not prison?”
“Correct.”
The room is spinning. Either I’m concussed or I just landed the greatest gig in supervillain history.
“Deal.”
She shakes my hand, and I swear the bones in my fingers explode. But it doesn’t matter. I’m in. *I’m in.*
“Welcome to the team.”
And then she leaves, and I start laughing. Hysterical, shrieking laughter that echoes off these stupid shiny walls. Because somehow, *somehow*, I tricked the greatest heroes in the world into paying me to ruin their day.
Best. Day. Ever.
|
"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.
|
StoneBurner143
|
Bob_is_a_banana
|
2025-01-11 21:39:55
|
2025-01-11 18:11:16
| 232 | 130 | null | null |
1hz0cf3
|
1iqme3e
|
[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.
|
"*Three* times a day!?" exclaimed Turreea, extending and retracting her claws to show her surprise.
"That's three times a Terran Imperium Standard Day. About six times a Confederacy Standard Cyclic Day," explained the broker, a raan by the name of Poru-ka. He pulled out a datascreen. "Your ship does have the cargo space to hold plenty of provisions. Sorry that most of it will be filled by human food."
"How fat is the human?" asked Turreea, this time blinking her two top eyes to show she was joking.
Poru-ka missed the humor. "It's rather on the thin side compared to other humans."
"Why does it eat so much?"
Poru-ka shrugged, a gesture he picked up among his dealings with Terrans. "Search me. They're warm blooded like we are, so I can understand the high caloric intake. But beyond that..." He shrugged again. "I'm not a doctor or a biologist."
"What's wrong with your shoulders?"
"Eh? Nothing."
Turreea looked at her own datascreen. "I was hoping to load up some trade goods to make a little extra money on this trip."
"I'm already paying you handsomely."
"Nothing wrong with extra money," said Turreea. "You should know, broker."
"If this trip is successful, the new trade agreements will make all of us richer in the long run."
"So why the insistence on the human? Is it a superior engineer? Knows secrets about faster space travel?"
"Oh nothing like that. I just happen to like it."
"What?"
Poru-ka shrugged. "It's quite personable. Most Terrans are."
Turreea refrained from asking about his shoulders. "Can't argue with that." Despite being on-again and off-again rivals and enemies, citizens of the Terran Imperium and Galactic Confederacy tend to get along as individuals.
Turreea stowed her datascreen. "It does explain why Terran ships are so big."
"Oh? How?" Poru-ka seemed genuinely curious, though it was hard to tell with a raan.
"Imagine having to carry all that food for a crew of a hundred or so."
Poru-ka thought about this and then nodded. "Makes sense."
"What's wrong with your neck?"
​
More at r/DaviparsWrites
|
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.
|
Davipars
|
intheweebcloset
|
2023-01-07 13:57:58
|
2023-01-07 06:02:32
| 90 | 67 |
j3c03tt
|
j3awm7c
|
1058kxb
|
1058kxb
|
[WP] Write something using only dialogue. Don't even say who is saying what, make the reader figure that out.
|
I pulled up to the gate and pressed the buzzer to be let in, not waiting long since they were expecting me. Once it opened I pulled up the driveway and parked, taking a second to pull the mirror down and fix my hair. Getting out, I adjusted my shirt after the long drive. I grabbed my bag and sifted through the contents- papers, scale, ziplocs…there it is!
I walk up to the large wooden doors and knocked as loudly as I could while still making sure it didn’t sound angry- these are my most consistent and well paying clients so there’s no way I’m risking the chance of pissing them off. I silently cross my fingers and hope Greed is the one who answers the door.
I hear the locks turn.
“Hey there! So, you guys looking for an eighth? Sure you don’t want the usual half ounce?”
|
"Who the hell do you think you are to be walking up to us without bowing and groveling beneath me"
"I'm sorry it's just that you looked so incomplete with me I mean how could you walk around with only seven members don't you think that eight would be better especially if I was the eighth"
"AND WHO THE HELL EVEN ARE YOU, DO YOU REALLY THINK WE WANT SOME ASSHAT LIKE YOU TO JOIN US"
"Oh I'm sorry I think I may have forgotten to introduce myself my name is megalomania but you can call me mega for short"
"Oh man I wish I had his name...."
"I wish I had his wallet"
"I wish I had his massive-"
*SHUT THE HELL UP ALL OF YOU I DONT NEED YOU ASSHOLES INTERRUPTING MY CONVERSATION"
"Don't mind them I'm sure they're just curious about who and what I am"
"Nah not really we're all just really bored if a bird got hit by a rock right now we'd be laughing our asses of oh by the way do you got any chicken meat I'm really hungry "
"No but if you let me join I can get you some"
"Really? Then sure you can tag alon-"
"SHUT THE HELL UP YOUR NOT MAKING DECISIONS RIGHT NOW"
"Geez your rude, are the leader of the group by any chance"
"NO! WHY THE HELL WOULD I WANT TO LEAD THESE IDIOTS"
"What the hell did you just call me?! Take that back before I beat you within an inch of your useless life"
*OH YOU WANNA DIE THEN COME HERE ILL SHOW YOU SOME WHO HAS A USELESS LIFE!"
"ok maybe coming here was a bad idea, I'm just gonna go don't mind me..."
Dont be harsh this is my first comment here sorry if it's bad
|
dubstepbees
|
aronmano
|
2023-11-18 08:33:44
|
2023-11-18 02:41:02
| 40 | 19 |
k9qtvxp
| null |
17xtcoa
|
17xtcoa
|
[WP] One can easily distinguish a true veteran adventurer from the masses, for one doesn’t fear those who show to the start of a dungeon with gleaming weapons and polished armor, but those who show up wearing casual clothing, looking like they just got done shopping in town not 5 minutes earlier.
|
"Is that a carpenters hammer?"
Bob smiled. "Keen eyes, dear leader," he said. "I couldn't find my sword so I borrowed this from my neighbor." Garrick the Stern looked Bob up and down. "*This* is what you choose to wear into the cursed mines?" he said, gesturing to Bobs common attire. Bob shrugged. "I had a piano recital before this," he said. "Hard to tickle the ivories in battle gear." Garrick sighed, but figured at the very least their new recruit would slow down their enemies as they stopped to devour him.
"The loot will be an even split," he started, addressing the group. "Our target is in the heart of the mine. The precious stone of the mad foreman is said to be worth a fortune. We extract it, and we're set for life." Dex, the assassin, smirked. Halvar, the Wizard, puffed out his chest. Bob scratched his nose and bit into an apple. Garrick drew his sword. "To glory!" he shouted, and ran into the mine. Halvar and Dex followed closely behind. Bob followed at a leisurely pace, finishing his apple.
The group passed through the entrance shaft and into a wide cavern. Halvar raised his staff. "Light!" he commanded, and a bright white light emanated from the crystal on top. Red eyes blazed at the perimeter of the chamber. Garrick flung his shield off his back into his offhand. "Brace!" he said, just as the horde charged. Magefire blazed a group of ghouls and sent them shrieking into a smoking heap. Daggers flashed as three, four, five of the foul fiends fell with slit throats. Garricks sword got stuck in the ribcage of one of the creatures just as another was descending on him. Blood splashed his face, and Garrick opened his eyes to see the light fading from the ghouls eyes.
Then he saw the carpenters hammer lodged in the ghouls head.
"Bullseye!" Bob said, entering the cavern. He pulled the hammer out and brushed it off on the dead ghoul. "Oh man, Jerry is going to be pissed. I'll have to get him a hammer that's not covered in ghoul brains." Garrick blinked, then wiped the blood from his face. "Try to keep up!" he said, glaring at Bob. They moved deeper into the cavern and, to Garricks surprise, Bob was holding his own. He seemed to favor using the hammer as a ranged weapon, which was easily the least efficient application. Most of the enemies Bob felled he did with his bare hands; clacking their heads together or snapping their necks in a single motion.
"Why, on Earth, do you keep throwing your only weapon?" Garrick finally asked after they had dispatched the latest pack of enemies. Bob raised an eyebrow. "Well I can't use it close range," he said. "I'd get blood all over my nice recital clothes." Garrick did his best *not* to look at Bob as they continued deeper into the mine. Eventually they came to a large door set into the mine wall with lit torches on either side. Garrick turned to address his crew. "This is it," he said. "The Mad Foreman should lie within. It is said his command of vile blood magic is unparalleled since his demonic possession. Be cautious, friends."
They entered the chamber and saw him. The Mad Foreman sat on a throne of corpses, his demonic thralls bowing before him. A ghostly laugh spilled forth from his twisted lips. "You think to challenge me?" he said. "I will add your broken bodies to my throne." Dex got into a crouch and spun his daggers. Halvar scowled and pointed his staff. Garrick steeled himself, then gasped as something flew past his head. The Mad Foreman rose from his throne. "Feast, my children! Dine upon these fo-"
"Is that a carpenters hammer?"
***SHLUNK***
|
Jessie sat on the rafters, gazing out at the massive crowd that had gathered in town for the annual Adventurers' Fair. It was a long journey from the city to her father's little town, all just to visit her father, Alfred, and her good friend James. Alas, dad was busy coordinating the event, so he had asked his god to accompany her.
An abyssal portal opened by her side, dropping a big pile of snacks and bottles of drinks that floated near her instead of rolling down the roof, before a familiar face climbed out of it with a cake box in hand.
"See those adventurers with gleaming weapons and polished armors? They're the ones who bought their gear swiping daddy's credit card. Such shiny equipment have never seen combat. They're as fresh as loaves of hot cross buns straight out of the oven. I could eat them for breakfast without batting an eyelid if humans were still on my menu. Oh, are we people-watching today? Any adventurers caught your eye?" Elvari prattled on, tearing the box open to help himself to a slice of cake, not even waiting until the rest of him emerged from the portal.
Jessie helped herself to a bag of chips and replied," I'm looking out for a friend of mine, James. Was hoping to wish him good luck. Even bought a good luck charm for him."
"What kind of adventurer is he? One of those newly minted shiny amateurs? Those are all bark and no bite, all shine and no skill. You can't trust these people to toil through the tough struggles in life by your side. Very likely to run at the first sign of trouble and ditch you. As for experienced fighters with some dents and cracks in battered armor? Those are worth befriending and getting to know them better if you desire excellent dungeon loot. You know they've survived difficult battles that challenged the durability of their gear. Trust these people to go the distance with you on the adventure of life." He was thrilled to share a long life of countless encounters with adventurers from all walks of life, waving a tentacle that clasped a pointer to aim its laser at the relevant examples. "What does James look like? If you're too shy and nervous, I can deliver it to him on your behalf."
"James said he would be showing up in a simple shirt and jeans," Jessie stated, her eyes still scanning the sea of adventurers. "He has black curly hair, a dark tan and brown eyes. Let me know if you see him anywhere among the massive crowd, he hasn't been answering my calls or messages."
"Oh, the type to show up in casual clothing, like they're just done shopping in town despite completing a dungeon run. Now, that is the kind of man to fear and run away from. A true veteran. The only sort more frightening than that is the old veteran who walks up to you naked with a crude, lowly weapon that has witnessed over a hundred battles. No gear dungeon speedrunners are the worst prospects. There's no fun or flair to what they do, they just zip past things so fast you don't get to undergo the joys of adventures. Pure efficiency sucks the pleasure out of dungeoneering and life in general. Just terrible for companionship."
She sighed as exasperation began to creep in. "Elvari! I'm not a monster in a dungeon waiting to fight these adventurers! There's no reason for me to fear James or any other veteran adventurers..."
"I was giving dating advice," came the flat retort.
Jessie sighed and took a sip of a bottle of coke. If she wanted dating advice, a madness-inducing eldritch god was one of the last persons she would ever consider asking. "James is just a friend okay? Please have a bit of common sense."
Elvari shot her a knowing glance with a cheeky wink and smirked. "Just a friend? That's what a secretly dating couple would say. Have you embarked on any adventures with him? Does your father know? Jessie, you cannot conceal thoughts from an ancient telepath like me for very long. As for common sense, well I'm not a common creature on this earth, why would I have common sense?"
---
[Thanks for reading! Click here for more prompt responses and short stories featuring Elvari the eldritch god.](https://www.reddit.com/r/TregonialWrites/comments/11tkt9w/eldritch_god_elvari_series/)
|
jpb103
|
Tregonial
|
2023-06-20 16:56:12
|
2023-06-20 15:03:34
| 266 | 136 |
jouo1w3
| null |
14e8boo
|
14e8boo
|
[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.
|
She was back again. The mortal woman who had found my shrine so long ago.
She sat, allowing the weight off her legs with a pained noise I'd not heard her make before. She was older than I'd ever seen her, and not just in her face but I could sense it in the rest of her. In her bones, just as I could sense something decaying there, something slowly, maliciously draining her. Something malignant.
"It's weird isn't it, that no matter how old I get, I always feel like I need you, mom"
I didnt answer. She wasn't addressing me, she'd never addressed me, I dont think she'd ever really known there was a me to address. She found my stone on this day seventy years ago, on her birthday, when her mother had died. I could feel the sheer emptiness she had then, the dull ache that never quite left her. Over the years, she'd not filled the emptiness but she'd grown larger around it, the hole less noticable. She'd come back every year, to tell her mother all she'd missed, and though i never knew how she had stumbled across this stone of mine I could only presume she felt my presence and knew me. God of Grief.
I'd never dared send her away, perhaps to God of Healing or Hope, because she never seemed like she needed them in the way she needed me. This time in my presence, to talk to her lost mother.
"I don't want to leave them. I don't want them to feel what I felt when I lost you."
I wanted to tell her they wouldn't. That from what I knew of her, she had raised her children in a way that meant they knew her love and couldn't doubt it. She had been able to give them the time she didn't have with her own mother. No one would ever be ready for loss, but they would be okay.
"Perhaps they are better prepared than i ever was though. I should tell them I am dying, I should let them say goodbye. But I am so scared, mom. So afraid. "
I wasn't supposed to interfere. My shrine was so small because I'd spent too much power meddling before. I'd gone forgotten precisely because of it. There was little left of me, but this woman, who would die soon, I could give her one last kindness.
I willed myself into being, light taking the form of her mother, as young as the day she'd lost her. She burst into tears but didn't reach for me, as if she knew I was not really there. I smiled, I couldn't speak in this body, but I bid her to stand. I sent her a wave of power that I knew would settle in her temporarily, something that would give her courage and comfort. A parting gift, from not-really her mother.
"Thank you. I'd forgotten what she looked like"
She addressed me, directly, for the first and last time. I wonder if she knew that in doing so, she gave me more than that power back. She shifted the small outcropping of rocks a few inches higher from the earth.
"I'll tell them about this place. Expect some new visitors soon" she smiled sadly but departed with more ease than she had arrived with. I counted her steps away from me and remained in that shimmering motherly form in case she wanted to look back at all. She didn't.
|
She stumbled across my shrine while fleeing through the woods from acolytes of another god. I felt her fear and her need as she stumbled blindly through the forest, after a moment of thought I flared my divinity ever so slightly to catch her attention. Feeling the divinity the turned towards my shrine and sprinted to hide behind the meager structure.
The acolytes walk into the clearing a minute behind the girl now cowering behind my shrine, and they never even noticed what she was hiding behind. I flared my divinity to an edge directed at the interlopers, they came to a sliding stop with looks of horror on their faces. While my shrine may not be grand marble or endless gold, they were standing in the seat of my power and they could feel it soul deep.
The unwanted guests dropped their weapons and fled back to their own god. After waiting a few moments to make sure they were really gone, the girl steps out and whispers a quiet but very sincere prayer of thanks. Overcome by curiosity I gently touch the girls mind, and ask her why she was being chased? She responds mentally that she didnt move when a priest of their god was riding by, so he lashed out and kicked her to the ground.
Vowing revenge, but knowing there in board daylight was not her moment she waited. She watched the lower clergy and acolytes come and go, she saw the priest that had struck her leave and she had to wait days for him to come back. When the priest finally came back, she watched him enter and waited until late night to sneak into his quarters. By being clever and careful she managed to avoid detection.
When she entered the priests room she immeadiatly saw his golden holy symbol laying on a table in the middle of the room. As quiet as a ghost she slipped foward and reached out to grab the holy symbol, but the moment she touched it an ear piercing alarm began crying from no where! She fled from the temple at speed, luckily persuit was slow to gather as most attendants were sleeping when the alam sounded.
I touched her mind again, to tell her how impressed I was that she had gotten revenge against the man who assaulted her. Through the link I expressed that it was her own cleverness and luck that saw her through, to end up standing at my shrine. The girl pulls out the holy symbol she had stolen, and tells me that this is the only thing of value she has and she wants me to have it for saving her.
I tell her if she is sure to lay the symbol on my alter. This wasn't some small token of gold as she thought, this was a holy symbol of a powerful god invested with a piece of his divinity. I draw the power into my alter, and I tell the girl to step forward and place her hand on it's surface. I tell her I can give her a grand gift, but it will also make her enemies. I can make her my one and only priestess, and that will make her more clever and luckier than most as those are my domains. Without hesitation she accepts my offer, and I make her my priestess.
After a lifetime of her coming back once a year to tell me stories of her adventures and showing me her treasures, she comes for the last time frail and with a heavy heart. She has grown old and is beginning to sicken and does not think she can make the journey again. I touch her mind and tell her to lay her hand on the alter one last time. Slowly she kneels down and touches my alter, and I share the joy and friendship she has given me.
I reach out and touch her soul like when I made her all those many years ago, but instead of a sliver of power I push it all into her soul making her a divinity in her own right. As I fade away I tell her how she brought me back into the world, and it was only right I do the same.
|
Elegant-Minute2345
|
PriceWeary2540
|
2025-01-14 09:38:13
|
2025-01-14 06:43:47
| 58 | 37 | null |
m727cnu
|
1i0uoqt
|
1i0uoqt
|
[WP] as a hitman you worked for all sorts of clients. Politicians, royalty, business folks. Today a child clutching their piggy bank approaces you, tears in their eyes 'I'm being hurt real bad and you can make bad people disappear, right?'
|
On video, you always saw people doing pro-bono work. Taking jobs that they thought would improve the reputation of the firm for free. It was a quick way to pull at the heart strings, and I was sure it happened in real life too, I'd just never seen it.
In my line of work, things were the other way around, The only way you could improve your reputation was charging more. Your premium set the market price. Your price set your value and your value was your reputation. Nobody cared if you were a nice person, they cared if other people were willing to pay for you.
That went double in places like Songlai. Niceties just weren't in season around here.
Luckily, over the past months I'd managed to get myself into the good books of some big players with money to burn and people to kill. The rest was easy, just add a couple percent each time and I'd gone from a spacer living in a shoebox to someone with a reputation, name and only a couple thousand short of my own ship.
Mom had always told me that I shouldn't get into her line of work, but if I was going to do it, that I needed to do it well. She wasn't around to say it but I think she would have been proud of the way I handled myself.
Which was why today, on her birthday, I was taking the night off to celebrate alone in the bar. No fanfare, no parties, no shootouts, just some peace, quiet and—
"'Scuze me. Mister," a little squeak came from below the tabletop and I needed to crane my neck to see the source. A young little girl with her hair haphazardly chopped was staring up at me with eyes so brown they were almost black. "Mister."
I didn't answer, instead checking around to see if this girl had parents nearby. Frankly based on her clothes the answer was obvious. I managed to catch the attention of the bartender, Tingyo who offered me an apologetic shrug.
"Thanks," I whispered into my drink. Then there was a soft tug on the hem of my jacket.
"Mister."
"Yes," I turned to face the little girl instead of glancing at her, her dirt filled nails were digging into my jacket. "Where are your parents right now? Do they know where you are."
She got quiet and shook her head slowly.
"Do you need help?"
She nodded, quick this time. Before I could speak up she reached deep into the oversized middle pocket of her sweater and dug out a handful of black datashards, standing on her tiptoes to drop them onto the bartop. Several nearby patrons glanced at the clatter.
"What are these?"
"I'm gonna pay," she announced. She started digging in her pocket to find more, but I reached down and stopped her hand.
"What do you think you're paying for?"
"You're Kingstall right? You help people with things."
"It's Kingston," I corrected, "and that's certainly one way to think about it."
"Well, I want help." she tried to pull her hand out and deposit more datashards on the table but I held her fast.
"What do you think you're paying for?"
"For help."
"Okay but what kind of help? Because I only do a certain kind of..." I trailed off as I heard the snickers from some nearby tables. Kingston, mighty Merc entertaining a kid.
The girl half climbed onto my knee, getting as close to my ear as she could without kissing my cheek. "You hurt people right?" she whispered as a childhood secret.
I looked at the pile of datashards on the table. I couldn't know how much was in there and it likely wasn't much but—
The girl slipped a little and ended up back on the ground, staring at me with those dark eyes. There was still a childlike shine to them. How long would it be until that was beat out of her around here?
Dammit.
"You're right. I hurt people. What's your name?"
"Daxia."
"And who do you need me to hurt Daxia?"
"Oh, I have a list," she pulled more shards out of her pocket and poured them onto the table.
If only I was better at saying no.
|
Lucia hadn't expected it, when he felt his own hand grabbed by a smaller one. He turned around quickly, realizing that it was a small child, teary-eyed and not very tall.
"What do you want?" Lucia asked, confused.
The child, his voice a whisper, asked, "Are you the person who can make bad people disappear?" He held a porcelain piggy bank with a crack running through it.
Lucia nodded slowly. "Um... Yes, why?"
The kid explained, "Well, there's a man at my house. He's not my dad, but he won't leave, and only comes out when my parents aren't around."
Lucia took a sharp inhale. "What is he doing?" he asked. He was used to some wild stories, but no children had ever come to request his aid.
The kid said, "He keeps telling me that I have to follow him. He's saying that my parents are out to get me, but I know they aren't."
Lucia nodded. "Oh, okay... And you want me to k- make him disappear?"
The kid nodded, shaking out his piggy bank. A few coins fell out, and he reached his hand out to hand them to Lucia. "Keep them. Go home, you'll see me in a few hours."
The kid nodded. "My house is the one with the red roof!"
––––
Lucia knocked on the door. He was dressed in a suit and had a clipboard. He wanted to practice his story, but then the door opened.
"Hello," a short woman beamed. "What are you doing here?" Lucia tugged on his collar. "Uh, hello, ma'am," he started, hoping that she couldn't tell how nervous he was.
"I am an inspector. I have to make sure your house is up to code." He tapped his clipboard with his fingers. The kids mother nodded.
"Come on in." "Thank you, ma'am."
Lucia walked through the living room. A man sat at the living room table, a mug in his hand. A lamp shine a yellowish light onto the walls. Lucia nodded to the father, who looked uninterested.
Lucia pretended to inspect the home, looking closely at the outlets. He noticed that most of them were unoccupied.
He went up the steps. He guessed that this was where the man that the little boy was talking about would be. He opened the first door. The lights were out.
The boy hopped up out of bed, with a gasp of surprise. Lucia turned on the light, closing the door quietly.
"Shh, it's me. Where is this man you were talking about?" Lucia asked.
The kid paused. "He's probably in the attic right now. He comes into my closet once my parents go to sleep."
Lucia nodded, leaving the kid's room. He forced himself to be as quiet as possible, as he opened the door to the attic, climbing the ladder.
The attic was pitch black. Lucia could hear breathing, raspy and almost grainy sounding.
Lucia walked towards the noise, unsheathing a switchblade he had concealed in his belt. //God, I wish this attic had a light!//
Lucia could see his own eyes reflected in the gaze of whoever was in front of him. He drove his knife forwards, but he heard the splintering of wood.
//He's hiding behind either a board or a crate.//
Lucia turned to the side, taking a deep breath; it was impossible to get a good angle on this person.
Lucia jabbed his blade forward. He knew he had hit his target, who ripped what he was guessing was his arm away.
Sprinting footsteps was all Lucia could hear. "How am I supposed to hit a moving target that I can't see?"
Lucia didn't know if his opponent was armed or not. He decided to err on the side of caution. He would have brought a gun in most of his gigs; this one wasn't planned, and he hadn't been as prepared as usual.
Lucia heard the footsteps getting louder. He realized that his target was getting closer. //He's probably used to being in the dark!//
Lucia felt hands grip his arms, and he thrusted sideways. He felt the metal from his knife sink down into his opponent's back.
Still, the stranger didn't stop. He grabbed Lucia by the neck. Now Lucia's arms were free, but he was at a much greater risk. //Now I know I'm face to face with this person.//
Lucia dug his knife up and slightly forward. He heard a strangled cry, as the grip left his throat. He took a deep breath, as his target fell to the ground with a thud.
He stuffed the man behind the crate, knowing that by time the parents noticed the stench of his rotting body, Lucia would be long gone. Wiping the blood from his hands, he stood up.
–––
Lucia went back into the kid's room. "Your problem is resolved." Suddenly, the boy ran up and hugged him. Lucia froze in surprise.
//Maybe this career choice was worth it after all.//
|
Writteninsanity
|
FrenchToast4You
|
2023-08-05 01:08:26
|
2023-08-05 01:04:33
| 450 | 148 |
juu8ic1
|
juu80qc
|
15icdmm
|
15icdmm
|
[WP] You're a 50+ year old woman who has found the cure for wrinkles, and you've just evaded the tenth attempt on your life by a dermatologist.
|
"Please. D-don't let them take me". The girl in front of my stuttered quietly.
I stare at her then nod.
"Follow me, quickly."
We head behind my house to the shed. I quickly open it, but before we can do anything else, a shot ricochets of the metal door frame.
"HALT! GIVE US THE WRETCH," bellows an Inquistor.
I push the girl into the shed. On my way back put i grab Mom's old trench gun, and dad's knife.
I glance behind me. "I'll be right back." She shakily nods.
As I pass through the threshold, i flick a switch. Once I'm out of the door, old rusty mechanisms roar to life. The door closes and locks, and thick sheet metal coats all the sides and the roof. The entire unit sinks into the ground, leaving nothing but grass and dirt behind.
I rack my gun and stand firm. One woman against 15 men.
Easy.
Fucking.
Peasy.
I merely tilt my head left to let a shot pass. Then the other way for another. As I do this, I slowly walk forward and start shooting.
One down, head vaporized
*chic chik. BOOM*
Two down, hearts gone.
As i continue moving, I'm getting faster and faster. Once ive killed the 6th man, im sprinting.
I duck as a machete zips over my head. I slam into the man, and slice his throat with my knife as throw my gun the air, catch it by barrel and whip it into another Inquisitor skull. The skull fails and the gun is fine.
I eventually get to the leader of this raid. I'm covered in blood and viscera and he cowers before me.
I sneer.
"Fucking pathetic. All this for one girl. You damned religious fanatics keep ruining people's lives. Get up, run away, and NEVER RETURN HERE.' I bellow in his face.
He gets up, stumbles around and runs.
I take aim.
Thunder roars.
A body crumples.
|
No.
Absolutely not.
It is much too early in the day for this, and besides, I have cabbages to worry about. The soil in the back garden—yes, the one near the fence, not the one near the oak tree where the soil is fickle and prone to moods—has been stubbornly uncooperative, and now, here, now, this—
A girl. No—**a witch**.
She is breathing like something with too many ribs. Hunched like a crow. She is wild-eyed, clutching at her own arms like they might fly away without her. There is dirt under her fingernails and something like ink or blood in the hollow of her throat.
"P-please," she says, because of course she does.
And behind her, behind the shed, just past the corner where the grass grows anemic from the shade of the house, there is the sound of order, the sound of polished boots and clinking metal, of righteous purpose marching toward my door, bringing fire and shackles and the kind of conviction that does not listen.
I am suddenly very aware of my breathing. I am suddenly very aware of my shed, which is, regrettably, **very bad at hiding things**. It is a shed for honest things—rakes, trowels, a shovel I have always meant to sharpen and never have. It is **not** a shed for witches, young or old, desperate or otherwise.
Her eyes are wet glass. No, **not glass**—glass is cold, and her eyes are feverish, burning, bright as embers in a storm.
“Don’t let them take me.”
She says it like I have already decided, like I am already pulling her inside, pressing a finger to my lips, covering her with straw and whispers and something that smells like safety but is really just sweat and terror.
I have **not** already decided.
I have **not** already—
The boots are closer now. There are **more** of them than I thought.
I could step aside. I could let the tide roll past me, let them take her and burn her, and in a week—two, maybe—I would forget the exact shape of her face. I would tell myself that she had been guilty of something, surely. That the world was better for her gone. That I had done the only thing I could do.
(But I have seen things better forgotten. I have seen women screaming with voices stolen from their own throats. I have seen fire that does not warm, only devours. I have seen men who sleep easy on bellies full of charred bones.)
The girl—**the witch**—reaches for me.
And I—
I open the door.
|
mrtimes4
|
StoneBurner143
|
2025-02-08 06:28:51
|
2025-02-08 05:46:27
| 58 | 31 |
mbmbg1n
| null |
1ikc2o5
|
1ikc2o5
|
[WP] You're a 50+ year old woman who has found the cure for wrinkles, and you've just evaded the tenth attempt on your life by a dermatologist.
|
"P-please. Don't let them take me..." The witch, a young girl, pleads as she hides in my shed.
I see the fear in her eyes as I hear the armored footsteps of the inquisition approach. My heart thumps. They don't take heretics lightly nor one that shields them from their hold.
But then, I've never taken kindly to those who threaten children and I'm much more powerful than the last time they came through; dragging my elder sister out of the house and murdering her in cold blood for the "crime" of rejecting the advances of a powerful man.
Or, as they put it, "casting a spell of bewitchment on a Cardinal."
Animals, the lot of them.
I smile and calmly reassure the girl before shutting her in the shed and turning to face these inquisition soldiers who think me nothing more than a farmer's wife, easily cowed by swords and assumed authority.
Not one expects me to cast the spell that heats up their armor faster than it can be removed: cooking them alive.
When the screaming ends I pull the girl from my shed, pack her a kerchief of provisions, and send her off to the woman who taught me. She will be safe enough until she learns to control her powers. After that her life is hers to live or ruin as she chooses.
I stare at the corpses scattered across my yard and thank the heavens that I've only just started the spring planting. Once stripped of their armor (which will be melted down and sold) they'll make excellent fertilizer and no one will think twice about freshly turned dirt this time of year.
I roll up my sleeves and get to work. I still have the regular chores to do as well and the day's not getting any younger.
|
No.
Absolutely not.
It is much too early in the day for this, and besides, I have cabbages to worry about. The soil in the back garden—yes, the one near the fence, not the one near the oak tree where the soil is fickle and prone to moods—has been stubbornly uncooperative, and now, here, now, this—
A girl. No—**a witch**.
She is breathing like something with too many ribs. Hunched like a crow. She is wild-eyed, clutching at her own arms like they might fly away without her. There is dirt under her fingernails and something like ink or blood in the hollow of her throat.
"P-please," she says, because of course she does.
And behind her, behind the shed, just past the corner where the grass grows anemic from the shade of the house, there is the sound of order, the sound of polished boots and clinking metal, of righteous purpose marching toward my door, bringing fire and shackles and the kind of conviction that does not listen.
I am suddenly very aware of my breathing. I am suddenly very aware of my shed, which is, regrettably, **very bad at hiding things**. It is a shed for honest things—rakes, trowels, a shovel I have always meant to sharpen and never have. It is **not** a shed for witches, young or old, desperate or otherwise.
Her eyes are wet glass. No, **not glass**—glass is cold, and her eyes are feverish, burning, bright as embers in a storm.
“Don’t let them take me.”
She says it like I have already decided, like I am already pulling her inside, pressing a finger to my lips, covering her with straw and whispers and something that smells like safety but is really just sweat and terror.
I have **not** already decided.
I have **not** already—
The boots are closer now. There are **more** of them than I thought.
I could step aside. I could let the tide roll past me, let them take her and burn her, and in a week—two, maybe—I would forget the exact shape of her face. I would tell myself that she had been guilty of something, surely. That the world was better for her gone. That I had done the only thing I could do.
(But I have seen things better forgotten. I have seen women screaming with voices stolen from their own throats. I have seen fire that does not warm, only devours. I have seen men who sleep easy on bellies full of charred bones.)
The girl—**the witch**—reaches for me.
And I—
I open the door.
|
haelesor
|
StoneBurner143
|
2025-02-08 07:00:47
|
2025-02-08 05:46:27
| 44 | 31 |
mbmez0m
| null |
1ikc2o5
|
1ikc2o5
|
[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?”
|
"HAHAHAHAHAHA Oh thank you dear, I haven't had that good of a laugh in years." I laughed in the cyborg's face, the shear absurdity of her statement being far funnier to me than it had any right to be.
"YOU THINK OUR SUFFERING FUNNY? YOU THINK THAT THIS IS A JOKE?" She raged at me, throwing the empty absinthe bottle at me from across the room.
"Okay, first of all, rude. Second of all, yes, extremely so. Let me explain. You come here, ripping through time and space under your own power, kicking the laws of thermodynamics in the balls and leaving them a shriveled mess on the floor. And you still don't understand, you came here from a point frozen in time and made it move under your own willpower. You killed not one, but THREE gods to gain the power necessary to reach into this meager plane. You did all of that with your own strength, you own power. And yet." I let that pregnant silence hang for a moment.
"You STILL come crying to me to fix the problem like a child who wants their mom to kiss their booboo. You want an end to your story so bad? Write it yourself, the Google doc is on the laptop in the front room. You clearly have quite the story to tell on your own, all that's left is for you to seize the opportunity yourself. You don't need someone like me to do it for you." I left the room to go drink some water as she was left, stuttering and appalled at me.
|
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!
|
the_lonely_poster
|
OSadorn
|
2024-03-12 19:34:21
|
2024-03-12 17:38:05
| 49 | 17 | null | null |
1bd1w5u
|
1bd1w5u
|
[WP] As the princess and heir apparent of the kingdom you are the most sought after woman in the whole kingdom, with suitors lining up every day to ask for your hand in marriage. Today you finally accept the proposal of a suitor, causing a massive scandal.
|
Krexavit finished scratching the last rune on the dining table, then pressed his hand into two of the runes and chanted. Grandma Kromp did not look impressed.
"Is it done yet? Can we eat?"
"You may eat now," Krexavit replied, wiping the sweat from his brow. He had worked just as hard as everyone else had in the kitchen for this feast.
Voices filled the room as the feast began, stories and laughter mingling as the potatoes and vegetables became friends on everyones' plates.
"BLECH", came a cry. Lord Forgua looked at his plate with disdain. He had one cut out of his perfectly roasted unicorn, but looked at it with a searching gaze. "It tastes like snogberries."
"Mmmm, try the green beans, though," responded Lord Forgua's ten year old daughter with glee. "They taste like marshmallows!"
Grandma Klomp looked suspiciously to her left. "What did you do, Krexavit?"
"I promised you an exciting dinner. Chaos magic doesn't give me much to contribute, but everyone loves a good surprise, right?"
The conversation around the table had turned into cries of surprise and delight, horror and spitting, as people sampled bits of everything they could find.
Grandma Klomp picked up a second forkful of peas and eyed them with curiosity. "Nothing on the table has snogberries, though. And my taste buds aren't what they used to be, but these peas..."
"Oh, this rune array doesn't just mix flavors from those in the table. It can be any known flavor of the eater."
Grandma Klomp put the fork of peas down. "Any flavor?"
"Any flavor," Krexavit confirmed as his took another bite of yams. Elderberry liquor.
Grandma Klomp nodded slowly. "That explains why the peas taste like your grandfather."
|
It was once again...Thanksgiving.
Our family was renowned across the universe, for birthing the strongest magicians of all fields...yet they didn't know something.
During holidays...when the entire family gathers, we compete in a different way one might expect.
Those who mastered fire spells make the perfect roast, and cook the food to the perfect temperature.
Those who mastered ice create the best cold deserts, and keep the food from going bad...
And me?
He-he.
I came home, and entering the house, the space enlarged, easily being the size of several planets.
Hundreds of thousands of clansmen, servants, and helpers were busy preparing for the holiday.
"Oy, Greeny! You back?", a cousin shouted.
I nodded.
"Hey, guys, Greeny is back, come with the baskets!", he chuckled, as many relatives ran towards me, with huge baskets, grinning, eagerly telling me to give them the good stuff already.
I chuckled, and waved my hand, as those giant baskets were filled with fruits, vegetables, and herbs, enough to feed millions.
My cousin whistled.
"Damn, your Nature magic leveled up, didn't it?
Every single of those items could make a mortal go from being a non-initiated individual, to a rank-3 professional in whatever field they want to.
Tsk...how do you fill them up with so much energy?", he asked.
I chuckled.
"I am just that good.", I said, leaving.
I saw my necromancer relatives animate the corpses of the beasts, the warrior branch hunted, and taking them to the kitchen.
The water field related mages were creating an ocean, while using the grapes I brought, they were making a watered down version of my wine.
Not blaming them, my wine coudl K.O. a god if not watered down.
I reached the main hall after a few hours of walking, and talking with some relatives, where I met the main family: my parents, and siblings.
They were...dissecting a leviathan.
"Oy kiddo, come bring some seasoning, I just caught this fella in the Water Universe!", dad laughed.
The Leviathan was the size of a smaller planet...
I laughed, and joined them.
I loved the holidays, especially since soon, under the influence of emotions, and good booze, the fun will start.
Will Empires rise or fall? Will we wake up once again in a new universe? Or will we find out once again how to time travel?
Heh...let the festivities begin.
|
ZtheScribe
|
TheWanderingBook
|
2024-11-29 13:23:33
|
2024-11-29 12:09:51
| 342 | 94 | null |
mwo3d4t
|
1h2ju98
|
1l6czj7
|
[WP] As the princess and heir apparent of the kingdom you are the most sought after woman in the whole kingdom, with suitors lining up every day to ask for your hand in marriage. Today you finally accept the proposal of a suitor, causing a massive scandal.
|
It was once again...Thanksgiving.
Our family was renowned across the universe, for birthing the strongest magicians of all fields...yet they didn't know something.
During holidays...when the entire family gathers, we compete in a different way one might expect.
Those who mastered fire spells make the perfect roast, and cook the food to the perfect temperature.
Those who mastered ice create the best cold deserts, and keep the food from going bad...
And me?
He-he.
I came home, and entering the house, the space enlarged, easily being the size of several planets.
Hundreds of thousands of clansmen, servants, and helpers were busy preparing for the holiday.
"Oy, Greeny! You back?", a cousin shouted.
I nodded.
"Hey, guys, Greeny is back, come with the baskets!", he chuckled, as many relatives ran towards me, with huge baskets, grinning, eagerly telling me to give them the good stuff already.
I chuckled, and waved my hand, as those giant baskets were filled with fruits, vegetables, and herbs, enough to feed millions.
My cousin whistled.
"Damn, your Nature magic leveled up, didn't it?
Every single of those items could make a mortal go from being a non-initiated individual, to a rank-3 professional in whatever field they want to.
Tsk...how do you fill them up with so much energy?", he asked.
I chuckled.
"I am just that good.", I said, leaving.
I saw my necromancer relatives animate the corpses of the beasts, the warrior branch hunted, and taking them to the kitchen.
The water field related mages were creating an ocean, while using the grapes I brought, they were making a watered down version of my wine.
Not blaming them, my wine coudl K.O. a god if not watered down.
I reached the main hall after a few hours of walking, and talking with some relatives, where I met the main family: my parents, and siblings.
They were...dissecting a leviathan.
"Oy kiddo, come bring some seasoning, I just caught this fella in the Water Universe!", dad laughed.
The Leviathan was the size of a smaller planet...
I laughed, and joined them.
I loved the holidays, especially since soon, under the influence of emotions, and good booze, the fun will start.
Will Empires rise or fall? Will we wake up once again in a new universe? Or will we find out once again how to time travel?
Heh...let the festivities begin.
|
The king of the eighteen kingdoms had fallen. That's right eighteen. Seven of them were won in wars and the other were won by diplomacy. There were no immediate heirs in his bloodline. The king was an only child, and only had one child, a daughter he rarely saw. Her mother passed away while she was quite young and the kind couldn't bare to love another.
It was brought up for discussion if one of the bloodlines of the previous kings would have a right. But they could never reach an agreement. The kingdom would fragment into different fractions. Although the rulers never got along with one another their economies were highly dependent on one another. People were to accustomed candies, silk, books, new jobs, and peace. Who in the right mind would take on a kingdom of eighteen? But a kingdom of three or four seemed far less intimidating. They all knew it was wishful thinking that she could keep the kingdom together, especially because she was known to have a huge chip on her shoulder. But none of the other kings or knights had all that much going for them either. They all hoped that any son that she would have would have any easier time because of his family history.
Many of the old kings and knights immediately proposed to her. But she rejected each and every one of them just as quickly. Word spread and other knights from far away came asking for her hand in marriage. No other kind wished to do the same fearing the harm it would do to their reputation.
The throne room, where she'd give dictation, was made entirely of golden bricks: ell they weren't really golden -- they were just painted that way. She sat upon a a plain wooden chair. A chair that you could confuse for any other chair in the the entire kingdom.
"No," she said in a loud tone.
"No," she said immediately after the next one came in line"
"No," she said after the other.
"You're impossible" the knight yelled.
"You there," she said pointing to a man whose face was covered in soot who wore chainmail and ragged pants. "Who are you," she asked. "And what happened to your face.
The crowd moved away for him. And There stood two people beside him also covered in soot. There pants and shirts were also as ragged. The other man, more thinner and taller. On the other side there was a woman with raven hair woman an old bow with a few arrows. They were looking forward until they decided to look at him. When he didn't say anything, the woman elbowed him.
.
"I Thomas Kains," he said. I'm from Krisla, a small fishing village not far from here. I fought in the tournament in your honor. I apologize for my looks, but there was a fire at the mage facility not far from here and I had to put it out."
"hmmm, I don't recall you," she said. She never paid attention to those.
"If it makes any difference, I didn't make it very far," he said.
Everyone laughed.
She had a smirk on her face and gleam in her eyes. "You, I choose, You" she said in her commanding voice.
There were a few gasps, but otherwise the entire room went completely silent.
|
TheWanderingBook
|
hysterical_writings
|
2024-11-29 12:09:51
|
2024-09-06 23:07:11
| 94 | 28 |
mwnnalm
|
llvg8q5
|
1l6c8vw
|
1famu0u
|
[WP] Inside you were rotten. But you've made the masses love you. Pretending to be the noblest of heroes was the easiest way to gain power. Finally, as your rule becomes absolute, you prepare to unleash your true self and begin your reign of terror... and then you die and end up in Heaven.
|
You know what I didn't expect to see when I died?
Saint Peter.
More bizarrely (and more disturbingly), Saint Peter with a shit-eating grin.
Part of me was elated of course. A bigger part of me was confused and suspecting some sort of trick.
"Why am I here?"
"Well." - Saint Peter fished some sort of card from his pocket. - "89 cases of saving people from fires, totaling 2245 saved people, 38 cases of preventing petty crime by talking, 121 cases of..."
"I know all that." I almost growled. "You know why I did all this. You know that I wanted to earn these sheep's trust to betray it and rule the world, as I deserved to. Why. Am. I. Here."
"Ah." - The grin returned. - "Weren't you the one who always believed that one must be judged by the actions, no matter what their motives were? In fact, I have a lovely quote right here." - He fished out another card and a pair of half-moon glasses. "Yes, ahem. I don't give a flying fuck if those politicians do it for views, or for cash, or to shut up the poors. As long as it helps people, kudos to them." He chuckles. "Treat others like you want to be treated yourself. That's the law."
"I was about to stage a coup!"
"Well you didn't. So, welcome to Heaven."
I shook my head, coming through the Pearly Gates. A mere coincidence, a truck driver asleep at the wheel, and here I am. What a farce.
"Ah yes, the truck driver..." Saint Peter mused. Of course the old bastard read my thoughts. "Funny how common cold can strike so suddenly and make someone so drowsy, is it not?.." He chuckled and waved at me. "Run along now chap. Don't want to keep others waiting."
|
Finally, the time had come to reveal myself. After all the waiting, the planning and the scheming, all events had converged in my favour. The masses I manipulated for so long were now all ready for my final step.
Sheep, all of them. Ignorant to the truth of this world, unaware of the dangers lurking beneath my façade. Even now, as I gazed upon them, they looked back at me with reverence and expectation. My fingers twitched. Soon.
I had gathered them in that most sacred of places under the guise of another benevolent action. They questioned themselves, I noticed, on what I had done or was about to do. Had I protected them from another unknown enemy? Would I announce another event, perhaps a celebration of some kind?
George, the ginger fool, looked around, no doubt thinking I would bring in more of their kind, others that I had released from the torments of the opposition, of the enemies that had tortured George and the others before my arrival.
No, he was wrong. They were all wrong. Today I would enact my plan, my final step, the one thing I had been focused on for—
Why was I falling back?
I hit the ground, the pain spreading up my spine. My eyes darted around and locked on to Mary and… George? The two of them had gone for the low blow, throwing me to the ground.
No! Had they known all along? Were they actually aware of my plan? Impossible. I had taken all the precautions. I had analysed their behaviour and foreseen every possible outcome.
Two of them held down my arms, and two others took care of my legs. I was trapped and there was no escape, no way out of this situation.
I fought against them, trying to escape, trying to survive just a bit longer. I had been so close to my goal.
Who had helped them?!
The enemy, no doubt. They weren’t smart enough to plan this coup by themselves, so the enemy must have fed them lies, manipulated them to work against me. To strike me at the height of my plan.
George turned my face to his, so I could look into the eyes of the true saviour of his people. In his eyes I could see the truth. He was no sheep. He was a snake. He was the entry point, the one that had helped destruction arrive.
And he licked my cheek. My lips parted in a grin.
“We’ll be late for the vet,” the enemy said, from atop her cushioned throne.
|
art-solopov
|
Nonononokfine
|
2024-11-06 20:34:46
|
2024-11-06 14:36:49
| 29 | 12 |
lvs0m2s
|
lvptbjp
|
1gkv6y5
|
1gkv6y5
|
[WP] You’re a mimic. You were disguised as a clock when an adventurer decided to take you as loot. You’ve actually managed to enjoy your live ever since as furniture in a small, local tavern. When some ruffians decide to rob the now elderly adventurer however, you finally reveal yourself.
|
Everything was dark. I heard my dad's voice. He sounded dazed. "What happened?" he asked, woozy.
I tried to open my eyes. Slowly I found the right muscles and a flood of sunlight assaulted me. My eyes eventually recovered and I could see my dad standing nearby, rubbing his head and breathing heavily through his nose. He looked around and his eyes got wide. "Where's your mother?" he asked, panicking.
I looked around but couldn't see her. Just trees as far as the eye could see. Then we heard her groan and some branches rustled. "I'm up here," she moaned.
We looked up and saw her standing in one of the trees. It took my brain a moment to realize that there was something wrong. Everything made sense, right? That was my dad's voice, so it was my dad. But as I looked at him my gut began to churn. Something in my mind said everything was just as it should be, but there was something *way* off about what I was seeing.
Suddenly it all made sense. His blocky head, the blocky trees, the leaves my mom could stand on... I had probably spent more of my waking hours in this world than I had at school in the last five years. *Of course* my brain was so willing to accept it.
My fingers twitched trying to activate the menu. Nothing. My hands weren't on a keyboard and mouse. I looked at them, stubs at the ends of stiff, blocky arms, and I felt lightheaded. I wasn't *playing* the game, I was *in* the game, and my *parents* were with me!
Then a wave of terror washed over me and I stumbled. "Mom!" I yelled. "You need to get out of that tree, we need to start getting ready for the night, NOW!"
Mom looked up at the sun, which was still rising toward noon. "Bennie, it's not even noon yet. We've got *hours* before nighttime!"
"No! Mom! You have to listen! The days are faster here. We only have..." I did some fast math. "I don't know, maybe fifteen minutes before nightfall!"
"So? Why do you sound so worried son?" my father asked.
"Dad, *monsters* come out at night." Could they not see that their blocky bodies weren't right? Did they have any idea they were in a video game?
"Well how do I get down from here?" my mom asked, wandering around the top of the tree.
"You just fall mom, you'll be fine."
She looked down at me blankly. "Fall?"
"Yes mom, just step off the edge and let yourself drop to the ground. *Trust* me."
"I don't know son," dad said. "Looks like a pretty bad fall. She could break a leg or something."
"Ugh!" I cried. "We're running out of time!" I turned to my dad. "Go start collecting wood. Punch that tree over there until it breaks."
My dad scratched his head, or... waved his arm around his head in a motion that *looked* like head-scratching. "What?"
"Like this!" I said. I walked to the tree mom was in and started breaking the block at eye level. Soon, it popped free and I collected it. "See?" I asked, turning to my dad.
He stared, shocked. "How is that tree just... *floating* there?"
"Dad! Focus! We *really are* running out of time! If we're going to survive this first night we have *a lot* to do!"
I collected the rest of the wood blocks from the tree my mom stood on until the leaves began disappearing. I helped the process along by breaking some of the leaf blocks from the ground. Soon the block under her gave way and she dropped safely to the ground without even taking a half heart of damage.
She looked a bit stunned, but eventually just said, "Oh, just like you said. Drop from the tree."
"That's right mom. You guys are going to have to listen to me if we have any hopes for surviving, got it?"
She nodded. I looked to my dad. He had collected *one* block of wood and was staring at the floating tree. "Dad!" I called. "You got that? You're going to have to trust me and do *exactly* as I say!"
He nodded slowly.
"Good!" I said. "Then keep collecting wood. We're going to need a lot of it."
"What about me?" mom asked.
"Do you think you can wander around a little without getting lost?" I asked.
"I uh... I think so."
"Good, I need you to look for some sheep. If you find some, come get me and show me where they are."
I chopped down another couple trees and got to work. I made a crafting bench and a wooden pickaxe. I went to a nearby hill and dug straight in until I hit stone. Once I had a few blocks of cobblestone I made a stone pickaxe. I got enough stone for a furnace and I started making charcoal.
By the time my mom returned I had a decent little space hollowed out of the hill with room for beds, but we needed wool.
"Did you find any sheep?" I asked eagerly.
"I... think so?" she said, unsure.
"Show me!" I urged, checking the sun's position. Five minutes, I estimated.
She led me along a winding path through the trees until we reached a flower-filled meadow. Indeed, at the edge of the meadow there was a small flock of sheep. Hoping for the best, I pulled out my stone sword and slaughtered them, my mom gasping as each one fell, beating pathetically as it died. I counted the wool blocks. Just enough for our three beds.
We raced to the makeshift shelter and I quickly built the beds, placing them along the walls of our starter home.
I was just in time. I hurried my parents through the door and closed it just as the first hostile mobs were spawning in the distance. "Quick!" I said, "Get in the beds!"
As I watched the world fade to black my mind was filled with thoughts. *We might actually survive this.* But I was gripped with the horrifying reality that we might never make it out of this alive. How long would we need to survive in order to leave? My best guess was that we'd have to defeat the end dragon. Accomplishing that with these... well, they didn't know what they were doing. Surely they'd die. But... Not if I prepared them first.
*Training starts tomorrow,* I thought to myself.
|
Okay I’ve never done one of these before but I’m itching to write and I couldn’t help trying this out. I’m just a hobby writer so don’t get too upset about any mistakes, I didn’t bother to reread this haha
Edit: very minor Genshin Impact spoilers
——
I stood in the middle of a forest, blinking at the three older men and singular woman in front of me.
“What is going on?!” My mother screamed.
My thoughts exactly.
Not even five minutes ago I was enjoying breakfast with my mom and dad, cutting apart some of my mom’s famous homemade French toast and plopping each piece in my mouth, relishing in the sugary delight. Then, in the center of our table spawned a blinding white light from seemingly out of normal. With a pained shout, I had turned away and shielded my eyes. Next thing I knew, I was looking up at a vast blue sky dotted with pretty clouds.
“Traveler, what happened?” A taller man with red hair frowned, grabbing my hand and helping me to my feet.
“Uh..” I looked at him in dazed confusion. Suddenly, I had my ‘Aha!’ moment. “Wait.. Diluc?!”
He looked exactly like the man from the game I played. Diluc, my main. The Mondstadt tavern clothes, the scarlet hair pulled back, the Serpent Spine claymore that I had given him! This WAS the character I played, yet I was seeing him in person..? It didn’t make sense.
Next to him stood a silver haired individual, which I immediately recognized as Al Haitham from the region Sumeru. He watched the situation a little farther from the others, but the hint of concern was still in his eyes. In his pocket I spotted the key he would always pull out in his idle animations. It was from Kaveh..
When I saw Zhongli in his formal beige and browns, I felt both a little giddy and perturbed. I was in the presence of the oldest archon alive so far. Archons are basically gods in the real world, so I had a hard time believing I was actually seeing him as a 3D human(?) being.
The Raiden Shogun, the archon from the region of Inazuma, was knelt beside me, assessing my body for any injuries. Her Favonius Lance polearm was cast aside. It was still the exact weapon I pieced on her.
“Are you alright, Lumine?” Raiden asked softly, her soft purple hair framing her face. She looked perfect, as perfect as she was from behind the screen. Am I.. dreaming? Has to be.
“Rose- where’s Rose?! What the hell happened?!” My dad’s voice broke through my fog, forcing me to flinch. I stood up a little shakily, looking down at my body.
I wore the clothes of the main character you play, The Traveler. My skin was much paler and free from blemish, my once dark brown hair was now a beautiful sun-kissed blonde, my usual hoodie and leggings were replaced with a battle-ready white, blue, and golden dress. I WAS the character in the game. And.. my parents came with me.
In a flash, Diluc had jumped in front of us, readying his claymore against my mom and dad. Flames sparked and traveled up the weapon, a sign of his pyro (fire) burst.
“RETRI-“ “WAIT! Diluc, stop!” I shouted, my feet already began to move. In my hands appeared an old, battered sword, but the weight felt right in my palms. I had never touched a sword, yet it felt so familiar to push electro (electricity) through it. The weapons clashed and I struggled against the force of it. I quickly deflected the energy and momentum, sending both of us staggering back.
Diluc swung his sword, the remaining flames smacking into the grass to slowly burn out and die. “What? Aren’t they treasure hoarders?”
I shook my head furiously, my own electricity sparking into nothing. “No no, I-I know them, they’re my.. parents??”
I wasn’t quite sure how to explain it. I’m in the Travelers body but I’m not THE Traveler. The main character was in search of their sibling and I don’t even have a brother or sister! Still, I couldn’t let Diluc very well kill my parents.
“Parents? Traveler, I thought you were just looking for your sibling?” Al Haitham stepped up, curiosity thick in his voice. He looked between me and my mom and dad. It was quite clear he failed to see the resemblance.
“No no, not like that.. ugh, let me explain.” I sighed, feeling a little tongue twisted and vaguely freaked out.
In less than ten minutes I’ve had to wake up in another body, fend off my best character, and somehow wield a sword and an element. I took the next twenty minutes explaining the world of Genshin Impact to my parents and also leading up to the story of how I somehow ended up in Lumine’s body. It was overall puzzling and I couldn’t tell if any of my four game companions understood but I had to hope.
“Okay so.. with that all cleared, where are we in the ques- I mean, what region are we in now?” I asked. Any of the nations could be dangerous depending on where we are, and the game isn’t fully out yet so if we’re in one of the unreleased nations I would have no understanding of where to go or what to do.
The area was silent for a minute, before Zhongli spoke up. “We’re outside the Court of Fontaine right now, Traveler.”
I beamed, thanking him quickly. Zhongli, ever the adapter! I thought warmly.
“Alright, so I.. I guess the plan is to find a way back home?” I looked to my mom, who nodded.
“We can’t stay here, Rose, we’ve got people who would look for us and there’s responsibilities. You’ve got school in the morning.” She harped, looking around a little wearily.
My dad agreed,”Yes, we need to get home. I don’t know how this happened but we’ll figure it out.”
I huffed to myself. “Alright alright, we’ll find one, don’t worry.”
“And your sibling?” Raiden’s voice drew my attention. “You may not be Lumine right now, but her goal is just as important as yours.”
“…Yes, we’ll look for Aether while we search for a way home. It’s the least I can do.” I smiled softly, much to the other’s relief.
“Rose-!” My mom began to complain, but a sharp glare from Diluc shut her up.
I mentally plotted out the map I’ve seen many times of Fontaine. Deep in thought, a drop of water landed on my cheek, followed by one on my forehead. The sky began to lightly drizzle, and I heard my dad groan in the background.
It hit me, all of a sudden. Rain in Fontaine means only one thing… The thought shattered my heart. This.. this pain was so much more different knowing he’s alive now. I looked up mournfully, whispering to myself,”Please don’t cry, hydro dragon. I’ll save you, Neuvillette..”
The seven of us set off to the Court of Fontaine, determined to find my brother and the ticket home.
|
None
|
UrbansMyth
|
2023-10-07 07:50:57
|
2023-10-07 01:15:54
| 223 | 40 | null | null |
xe9shf
|
171om7s
|
[WP] Not all Dragons hoard gold. Some run the greatest libraries and repositories of knowledge in the world, others search for the greatest experiences and sights the worlds can offer. One dragon has a rather unusual fascination.
|
"What, you want gold or something?"
"Well, no, not really. But that artillery has caught my eye."
"The what?" The clerk asked, baffled. The specialist the government had reached out to was unusual, as it was a dragon, and had declined most forms of payment available for the work. The drake nodded with a slight grin.
"Not all dragons hoard gold you know."
"I'll have to contact my boss, I can't exactly authorize the trade of military hardware." The clerks explanation was cut off as the drake waved a clawed hand.
"I know, I know. Take the time you need to get that sorted. I'm interested in weapons of war; artillery, tanks, atmocraft, spacecraft. I'll be waiting." The drake turned away from the clerk and opened a portal. The land beyond the portal was full of machines of destruction, and a great fleet of warships hung in the skies.
Follow the adventure at r/PrimusWrites
|
This dragon was colored red, with lavender scales on her belly. Her name was Meredith, and she wasn't too big, nor too small. However, her ant farms within her lair were huge. Some even took up half the length of the walls! Meredith was very interested in looking at and taking care of different kinds of ants. Said ants were divided into different areas based on how dangerous their bites were. The habitats of pavement ants and moisture ants, for instance, could be found near the entrance. On the other hand, one had to walk for almost half an hour to find the bulldog and fire ants. Their stings hurt like heck if used on a person, but Meredith practically had the thickest skin amongst her species, so even the deadliest bite wasn't more than a little pinch.
​
Four years after starting her collection, Meredith recognized that she wanted others to see her work, as she was very proud of it. Henceforth, The Cavebarker Ant Museum was opened to the public. Dragons and humans came from all over the continent to see the marvelous effort that Meredith put into her odd habit. There was even a beekeeper named Arthur Henry Fletcher who visited one day and suggested Meredith get into beekeeping as well, to which she responded, "If I was a jack of all trades, I wouldn't have an area of expertise anymore, would I?" Fletcher had decided that the dragon put up a very good point, and so he left her alone to run her ant museum, which was passed down from generation to generation for nearly a millennium until an avalanche sealed the entrance.
|
Primus_Drago
|
empVincent200
|
2023-04-23 18:17:57
|
2023-04-23 16:56:17
| 61 | 29 |
jhf6mkw
|
jheunyi
|
12wghc8
|
12wghc8
|
[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.)
|
“But…you could’ve been *anything*.”
They stared at me, 4 sets of eyes widened with shock or squired in confusion. 4 sets of furrowed brows.
“I don’t *want* to be anything else.”
“Well, I just thought—“ said Kenzie.
Rob cut in “I mean we all have *those* days, and you have the opportunity—“
I cut them off with a raised hand. “You thought what? That’d I’d be insecure? That I dislike my body? That I’d jump on the chance to change it?”
I could feel their discomfort growing. No one wanted to *actually* say anything about someone’s body—not to their face, at least. My mother had taught me that.
Sighing, I plopped down on a stump and continued before they could try to shove their words back into their mouths. “You’re right.”
Melissa was the first to jump in. That was just the type of person she was: the Includer. Whether you wanted to or not, she’d give you disingenuous platitudes meant to make you feel like you less inadequate. I’d done it myself, back before I’d gotten too tired. “No, we didn’t mean—“
“You’re right!” I insisted. “I hate my body sometimes. Most times.”
There was a quiet in the air, like a sorrow at the sentiment—open admittance was always worse, because you couldn’t hide the meaning of the words, dance around the inconvenient truths…or make polite conversation. Maybe there was also a comforting finality, as if they thought I was ridding myself of a delusion of thinking I was more attractive than I was, and therefore worth something.
Another sigh.
“I don’t like my body. I can barely even tolerate it. And, to be honest, it’s always been like this. Since I was five, I’ve been self-conscious about my weight. Stressed over my common-colored hair and eyes, hated my moles and the furriness of my legs and I—“ I stopped. I wasn’t quite sure where to go after that, how to escalate from disclosing the biggest baggage on my shoulders. “I hate my body. But I think we all do a little.”
I looked around at my party, 4 other people I called friends because we met in a shitty apartment twice a month to play games and make jokes about movies we watched when we were younger. They all looked different. Zedd especially.
“We all hate how we look. We spend years of our lives wishing we could change. Putting our bodies through physical distress every day for the hope of slimming down or bulking up; cutting ourselves into pieces and sucking out and re-injecting to reconfigure what we consider a colossal failing of the genetic lottery. And if we ever get the chance, we take it. We become elves—“ I looked at Melissa, several inches taller, a little slimmer, chromatic eyes and pale blonde hair, glasses-free and unfreckled, curvier but not pudgier—“barbarians—“ I watched Rod, head ducked and eyes avoidant, about 100 pounds of pure muscle heavier and well over a foot taller than he’d been, the long hair he wasn’t brave enough to grow out in real life flowing free down his impossibly bulky back—“sorceresses—“ now to Kenzie, her dark, coily hair now loose curls brushed back with a headpiece, a red dress glued to her new curvy body like she was modelling a swimsuit—“and even those of us who fancy ourselves defiant, nonconformist, can’t bring ourselves to defy too much.”
I glanced at Zedd, who *did* look decidedly inhuman. He’d chosen a figure with curling horns, four purple eyes, and brick red skin, a forked tongue flicking out to lick his lips nervously. But still, there were a brand-new six pack, cut arms, and high cheekbones.
I stood up, a heaviness in my actions as I resigned myself to getting on with it.
“I could have chosen anything. I could have looked like anything. But I’m so fucking tired of hating myself. I’ve been doing it for 20 years. We ALL have.”
I gestured around at the group.
“We’ll never be EVERYONE’S version of sexy. That’s how beauty standards work. And some of us will never even get close.” I pointed to myself, 320 pounds, middling height, my split ends and few strands of prematurely grey hair, my hairy cheeks, sagging boobs, and double chin, dry hands and moles that dotted my arms and face.
“But who cares? Who *fucking* cares? I know we all do, but why? Why do we force ourselves to focus on how we look for a few moments rather than how we feel and act forever? I’m tired of people acting like your worth is determined by how *they* judge your size, your skin, your hair—I’m tired of guilting myself into running circles because people don’t value me for who I am. And if *they’re* not going to change, I’m going to make them. By loving myself so much the have no choice.”
I let that sink in, mostly so I could organize my thoughts.
“I could have been anyone. And as much as I want to, as much as I hate to pass this chance up, I *have* to. I have to do it now, to prove to myself that I value myself, every bit of it, flabby, saggy, boring, hairy, and old. Because if I don’t do it know, when will I ever? I get to go home after this is over and tell myself that I loved myself enough to love ALL of myself, and maybe that will be enough to start making me love myself for real. Now let’s tell Argamenous we’re ready and get this show on the road, okay?”
——————————
I stood up from the stump when the flaps of the changing tent moved. They stepped out, all four of them, different.
Kenzie was first, tight red dress clinging to her body—flat chested and proud, her hair twisted into braids and coiled on top of her head, a big beauty mark below her lip.
Rod followed, 5-foot-nothing and slim, wielding a hammer half his size because who gave a fuck when you had *magic*? His hair still flowed down his back, just short enough that he looked like battle-Rapunzel.
Zedd was next, rocking the horns and red face again, this time letting his leather vest hang open around his potbelly and sporting a bejeweled birthmark on his face.
And finally, Melissa, tying her hair behind her still-pointed ears, glasses framing her dark brown eyes and freckles tickling her nose and cheeks. She was wearing a dress that fit around her soft form in a way that would make an Instagram influencer recommend a two-week slimming green tea cleanse.
“We told Argamenous we were almost ready,” she said from beside me. “Are *you* ready?”
I smiled. “Yeah.”
We walked into the portal, framed in glowing gold light against the sunset. We’d never looked better.
|
MasterV3ga
|
SmolFaerieBoi
|
2024-08-14 17:14:22
|
2023-02-27 07:30:27
| 161 | 54 | null | null |
1es40qy
|
11ctaxn
|
[WP] As someone with stage 4 terminal cancer, you've long come to terms with your own inevitable death. Now, the world is ending in 7 days, and you have to help your loved ones accept their impending doom.
|
Theo glanced at the consol in front of him, then looked back at his supervisor. "I mean, if someone told me I'd get crazy benefits and all I had to do was push a button at 3:00 PM, I'd probably think they were high or something. So, I think I can believe anything at this point."
"No, you can't." The supervisor sighed. He looked like the stereotypical middle manager. The kind that demands you work overtime and denies your request to leave you can attend your niece's recital because the company has some important shipment, only offering a pizza party in return. "Look, just push the button at 3:00 PM, alright?"
"Come on, man," Theo said. "Just tell me what happened to the last guy! And why am I pushing this button at a specific time in the first place?"
The supervisor looked surprised. "You didn't seem to care about that in the interview."
"Well, you know, you'd surprised me with the unlimited medical absences that are separate from paid time off. I would've said yes to anything at that point. But once I got home, I started thinking it was a little weird. Why are you offering this much? And what happened to the last guy?"
The supervisor heaved a sigh and rubbed his forehead. "Do you promise you'll believe this?"
Theo shrugged.
"So, in order to explain what happened to the guy before you, I need to explain why you need to push this button in the first place. And for that, I need--" The supervisor took out a remote and pressed a button. "Look behind you."
Theo turned around. Instead of the beige wall that had been behind him, there was now a window. Theo squinted at it. It was too dark. He could barely see anything.
"Look higher," said his supervisor. "It's looking at you right now."
Theo looked up.
Some thing stared back at him. Theo couldn't see it clearly, it was too dark. He could make out an outline of its body. All he could really see clearly was its pale face. It grinned at him from its perch on the ceiling.
|
"Alright. You are paid 1000$ an hour, full benefits, full international accommodations of all types, and more.
All you have to do is push 1 button, at a specific time, once a day.", the lady said.
"If I have to push it only once a day, how am I paid?
Pushing a button at a specific time hardly qualifies as working an hour.", I said.
"Your schedule is from 9 to 5, so you will be paid accordingly, the time can vary from day to day.", she said.
"Then it's not a specific time, rather a randomly selecting, specific one.", I said.
She sighed.
"Yes, just before your work starts, we shall tell you the specific time for that day when you have to press the button.
But...before the specific time, we can call you anytime to say that the timing changed.
Also...you might have overtime quite often.", she said.
I nodded.
"Why would I need international accommodations of all types if all I have to do is push 1 button...shouldn't it be located around these parts?", I asked.
She shook her head.
"There might be times where the button needs to be pressed in another countries...that also shall be communicated in advance.", she said.
I nodded.
"Okay, thank you, one last question from my side.
What happened with the last one...working this job?", I asked.
She shivered.
That wasn't a good sign, and this whole deal seemed quite shady.
"You wouldn't believe me.", she said.
"Considering you scouted me, and considering that the question is nothing out of ordinary, I would believe it shouldn't be impossible for it to be answered.
I need no names, no personal information, just the general gist as to why my predecessor left such a well paying, seemingly simple job.
If the question can't be answered, I do apologize, and thank you for your time, but I will be refusing you.", I said.
She sighed.
"That individual went mad after a few months.", she said.
"From simply pressing a button?
Was it due to boredom?", I asked.
"That too...", she muttered.
"So there were other reasons as well.", I said.
She nodded.
"Good, for 1400$ an hour, I can start tomorrow already.", I said.
"Deal!", she eagerly said, and took out a tower of paperwork, from which she quickly selected a few dozen...
All with the 1400$ I mentioned.
She was prepared for multiple requests from me.
I sighed, and started reading the contracts before signing them.
If...If my family wasn't in dire need of money...I wouldn't even have come here.
For any normal person...it's too obvious something wrong is going on, when there are such benefits.
After all...there is no free lunch in this world.
|
dragontimelord
|
TheWanderingBook
|
2024-09-14 04:27:42
|
2024-09-14 03:48:41
| 121 | 86 |
ln1fc0l
|
mwm7hc1
|
1fg8hja
|
1l650ar
|
[WP] Your little sister wakes you up and says that she thinks there's a monster in the house. The tall creature with glowing eyes, horns, and claws right by her looks just as terrified, and agrees.
|
I squint my eyes at my sister. She's clutching her pet demon's hand so hard that if he was made of flesh it would be bruising. She stares at me with wide eyes. I move my gaze to the pet demon. I'm not an expert on demon faces (the glowing eyes and huge teeth tend to throw me off), but he doesn't look happy either.
I turn my gaze to the clock. The red numbers blink at me and I close my eyes for a moment. It's only four. I have to get up in two hours to get her off to school before work. Why? Why couldn't the monster have just come during the day when no one's home?
My sister pushes my shoulder again. "Sissy!" she hisses. "There's a monster!"
Of course there is. And I know, I just know that this is our parents fault. (I can't prove it since they're dead, but I know it all the same.) I sigh, push myself up, and grab the salt-crusted iron baseball bat I keep by my bed before shoving my feet in my shoes. (I learned the hard way not to walk on this floor barefoot.) "Where is it?" I ask. The pet demon warbles something that sounds uncannily like someone broke a blender and is trying to use it any way.
My sister crawls into my bed. Her pet demon joins her, stepping carefully over the runes (about time to get those repainted; he should be having more trouble with them) to curl around her. "It's downstairs," she says. "He says he saw it in the kitchen."
In the kitchen. Well, maybe it's just hungry. Maybe it'll just be a harmless grazer, easy to run off. On my way out of the bedroom I grab the football helmet and cram it on because while I may be hopeful, I am also not stupid. Behind me the demon says something and my sister adds, "Be careful, Sissy."
Careful. In a dark house, that some *moron* (unknown) decided to build over a literal portal to Hell and not one, not two, but *three* ley lines, *and* a faery hill. A house that two other *idiots* (Mom and Dad) took one look at and said, "Hey, this is great place to raise children!" And then placed the damn (literally) house in a complicated trust that forces us to live here until my little sister is eighteen. "Sure," I tell her. "I'll be careful."
"Okay." My sister looks comforted. From the narrowing of the demon's eyes, he is not. Well, there's a monster in the house. If I'm going to be woken up, it's going to be *someone's* problem.
The steps sing with musical notes (never did figure what causes that) as I make my way downstairs. My eyes dart along the walls and floor (I've got nets of fairy lights everywhere because it isn't safe to be in this house in true dark) as I look for whatever has spooked the demon.
My sister, well, she's a bit of a scaredy-cat. Living here can do that to a person. She's been scared of her dolls, her shadow (still not certain she was wrong, since that was only a few days before being introduced to her pet demon), and the tree in the front yard (again, not sure she's wrong).
The demon, on the other hand, is imperturbable. His only reaction to the priest we (I) brought in to exorcise him was amusement--right before setting said priest on fire and giggling like mad as my sister scolded him for his disrespect. I have no idea what could be freaking *him* out.
There. A noise. A noise that doesn't belong, and a shadow where a shadow shouldn't be. My eyes narrow. What is that? Know what? It doesn't *matter* what that thing is; it doesn't belong in this house. I leap from the staircase to smack it upside what I think is the head with my bat. It falls and the shadow sizzles around the salt. So. Either faery or ghost.
A sigh catches my attention and my gaze snaps to an overweight, petulant looking woman standing in the kitchen. "That's so rude," the woman sniffs. "My familiar is of no threat to you."
I look at the still sizzling shadow as I step away from it. "You've got that right."
"You are a perfectly *dreadful* and *hostile* child," the woman spits.
"And you're trespassing," I tell her flatly.
The woman begins to glow, black edged green circling around her as she glares at me. So. Probably a faery. They've never been good with boundaries.
So. An unknown being powerful enough to make my sister's pet demon scared. Vs me, a human that has been living in this house since I was ten, who hasn't had a full night's sleep since my parents died almost a year ago, and who is armed with a salt crusted, steel baseball bat. It's not a fair fight.
But I don't fight fair. I fight to win. Luckily, there's a portal to the fae realms under the kitchen sink. I have to chop them into small bits, to make them fit into it, but this should keep intruders out for a while. And, since I'm in the kitchen anyway, I reinforce the salted barrier keeping the portal to Hell shut. (And who thought it was a good idea to build a *pantry* over the portal to Hell?)
And then, of course, it's time to start the day. I groan and look out the window at the slow brightening of the sky. Just another Tuesday.
|
My parents are away for the weekend, leaving me in charge of my 8-year-old sister, Candace.
You might think this is a bummer, but if I make it through without incident, guess who will be the new owner of a slightly used and slightly running 2001 Pontiac Aztek? This guy.
Tonight went off without a hitch, with one hour of tablet time, a delicacy of dino chicken nuggets, chef kiss, and three rounds of Candyland before putting her to bed. This gig is a piece of cake.
It's 1 AM, and I'm scrolling through Tik Tok videos in the dark. My bedroom door swings open.
"What are you doing, Candace? Why are you out of bed?"
"There's a monster in the house."
My eyes adjust to the light in the hallway, and there is a tall creature with glowing eyes, horns, and claws right by her who looks on, nodding its head in agreement.
"Jesus!"
"What, do you see it?"
"Is that it?"
Candace casually glances behind her.
"No, not him; there's another one."
"There are two!"
The monster behind her steps into the room, scratching the door frame as it enters. The monster speaks in a raspy, tough-guy tone, with a too-cool-for-the-room exterminator vibe.
"Let me step in here, professional. They sent me down from Guardian Monster Transfer. We apparently had an incident; a class 29-C escaped and skedaddled. We tracked him to your domicile, where I made contact with this small human; let me see here…" "Candace," the monster says as he pulls out a clipboard and traces his finger down the page. "Where then, she referred me to her supervisor…" scanning again, "Ricardo."
"It's Ricky."
"All right, just a quick note here," the monster says as he writes on his clipboard.
"Are we in danger? "What exactly is a class 29-C?"
"Oh boy, oh boy," the monster exclaimed as he took out a cigarette and began to smoke; his eyes widened as he glanced off into the distance, "I remember the summer of 97, there was 29-C and two 33-Bs, I nearly shit my pants."
"What the hell? You can't smoke in here, you're not wearing any pants, and don't swear in front of my little sister."
"I've heard that word before," Candace said.
"Still, he shouldn't…"
"All right, all right, let me just make a note here," the monster wrote on his clipboard. He extinguished his cigarette on Ricky's bureau.
"What do you need from us?"
"Just stay out of my way; I only told you because it's protocol, and I'm by the book. The last thing I need is a couple of amateurs mucking up my investigation."
"What does it look like, you know, in case we see it?"
The monster stares off into the distance again, "Oh, you'll know, and if you do see it, God help us all."
"Alright, we'll just stay in here."
"You bet your ass you will; I'll be setting a724q traps and 3c24a enticements; you don't wanna be around when those go off."
"Oh, a 3c24a, huh?" Ricky says, joking.
"How dare you; my uncle lost a pinky toe to a 3c24a," the monster says. Every day, I leave the house without knowing if I will return home to my wife, Britney, and daughter, Raquel."
"Alright, I'm sorry."
"I have to grab a few things in my truck; then I'll be in the house."
"Thanks for your help," Candace said.
"If you see anything, don't be a hero, just call, and I'll come," the monster says to Candace.
The monster exits the room, scratching the door frame once more.
"I'm scared, Ricky."
"Don't worry; I think this monster has done this before, so everything's gonna be alright."
I couldn't tell if this was real or a dream because it was so late. We both heard the monster downstairs smashing things.
"Mom and Dad are gonna kill me; I guess I can kiss the car goodbye."
"I'll help you clean it up."
"Thanks, Candace, but I think I just heard a wall come down, so it might need a little more than a dusting."
Out of the corner of her eye, Candace saw the tiniest, cutest little kitten.
"Look, Ricky," Candace remarked as she scooped up and cuddled the kitty.
"Be careful; we don't know where that kitty has been."
With those huge eyes, the kitten glanced at both of us and offered the slightest "meow."
We both melted and started to play with the kitten to pass the time, Candace had some yarn, and I had a laser pointer.
It had been several hours since we had heard anything, and we could hear the monster climbing the stairs.
The monster opens the door and sees us playing with the kitten.
"What in the mother of God are you doing?! This is the 29-C! Back away, back away."
We both moved away from the kitten as it stared up at the monster and purred.
"You sick prick, thought you could get away with it, didn't ya?"
The monster withdrew the tiniest pair of handcuffs I'd ever seen and fastened them on the kitten's paws.
"This can't be right; this the monster you've been looking for? Is this why our house was destroyed?"
"I caught it in the nick of time. This scumbag is wanted for tax evasion and doing perverted things with a horse. You're lucky I came in when I did."
As we went downstairs, the house was in shambles.
"Oh my God, we're dead."
The monster removes a card from his pocket and hands it to me. "Um, please fill out a performance survey; we realize you have a lot of options for monster transport, and we appreciate you choosing us."
I nodded as I watched the monster load the tiny kitten into the back of his truck, gently closing the door behind it.
When my parents returned, they still gave me the Pontiac Aztec. Candace may have told them that the monster was giant, frightening, and wild. As Candace smiled when they gave me the keys, I realized I might not be so terrible at babysitting after all.
|
InfiniteEmotions
|
Patrick_Ryan_82
|
2023-01-12 13:08:30
|
2023-01-12 08:19:42
| 363 | 188 |
j4124hr
|
j40e6oa
|
109qo09
|
109qo09
|
[WP] You are a lich who retired from villainy long ago and took up teaching at a magical school. Today someone made the mistake of threatening your students.
|
'Retiring from Villainy' implies that I was a villain professionally, and decided not to be a villain anymore.
That is not what happened.
I forced the government to allow the 'abhorrent, vile magics' as a force to be reckoned with, but also to be understood. It is no greater of a crime than learning evocation or enchantment magic, which are used by wizards and bards everywhere to deal with monsters or cheat their way out of paying in a town every so often.
The study of life and death, what they call 'black magic' or 'necromancy', is less about the resurrecting of the dead, and more the understanding of the use of one's own body. It is magic that can easily kill, but true masters of the craft understand that such a use is a novice's method.
No, I say that it is a magic of Life *And* Death. It is the way the body works, how it can be influenced, and how it can be replicated. How it can be healed, how it can be broken down. How it recycles much, or reuses others. How little energy it really requires, yet how much it can handle at full capacity.
I proved this time and time again, over countless eons, where I cast resurrection after resurrection on my people, people who went back and did wondrous deeds and made the world a better place. Created Immortals who ruled over the world, and have my teachings to thank for surviving so long, learning so much from their mistakes.
I was no longer a villain, because those who saw me as wrong died out, lost to their own mortality or claimed by the gods. I survived, and as the winner, I decided who was righteous.
Each day, my students face opposition to my ways. Each day, they handle it themselves.
Sometimes they die and I bring them back to life, and they apologize for their mistakes and promise to do better. Very few of my students have instead opted to move to the afterlife, but they are allowed to rest.
I teach at several schools which some of my students opened. I meet with the children, and I teach them the basics of biology, and those who show an interest into biomancy must pass a written test before I consider them my students.
One such young adult, an orphan boy by the name of Louis, passed with flying colors, with a knack for biomancy. However, he was a socially inept person, who constantly took words at face value, rather than seeing the meaning behind them.
He was being crushed on for a *decade* by a girl in class, who followed him into my biology classes only because she liked him.
...What? It's part of life and death. Of course I have interest in this, too.
Anyway, the girl, Victoria, finally up and *threatened* the boy, and that's when I had to step in.
"No, if you do that, then he'll only become afraid of you," I interrupt. "Just get over your embarrassment and just ask him out already. If you don't, he'll keep being stupid."
The two looked at me, the girl out of embarrassment, the boy out of confusion. Then he asked, "Aren't I your smartest student?"
"You pick up anatomy easily, but a drawn diagram from memory does not prove you understand biology. Point in case, take a look at your friend, here. What do you observe?"
Her face is red in embarrassment, her stance is respectful, but defensive, and she is silent.
"She's... embarrassed?"
"Good! Why do you think that is?"
To his credit, it only takes him a few seconds.
Then his eyes widen.
"Oh."
I snicker and cackle and walk away.
If it goes well, and I hope it does, I think they'd make wonderful babies. It would also help me decide if the girl is worthy of being a biomancer, if she stays in the class less distracted by the boy.
All in a day's work of an archlich.
|
"Ms. Keening?" A soft voice echos from outside of the classroom breaking Isadora's concentration as she grades the latest class assignments.
As Isadora looks up from the piles of papers and reports strewn across her desk she notices Alonius, one of her students enter the room, a large bruise across his cheek. "Ah, Alonius. We missed you in class today, I can assume the cause of that unsightly bruise is to blame."
Isadora stands from her desk walking over to Alonius and placing a hand on his cheek, in an instant the bruise fades leaving no evidence it was there at all "Th...thank you Ms. Keening." Alonius whispers, before sitting down at the desk closest to Ms. Keenings as she takes her seat as well.
"Now tell me, what happened to you today Alonius" Isadora asks, her face turning from one of care and guidance to focus and concern. "Well I was making my way to class this afternoon and got stopped by a group of men, I borrowed some money from them a while ago that they came to collect and when I told them I couldn't pay they did this." Alonius puts his finger to his cheek, forgetting his bruise had been healed for a moment.
"How much did you borrow? And for what?" Alonius squirms in his chair at the question clearly uncomfortable "five hundred, they said I owe seven now because of interest and I don't know how I'm going to come up with the money." tears begin to roll down Alonius' cheeks as he speaks. Isadora stands from her desk and approaches him, placing a hand on his shoulder "There's no need for tears, my students are under my protection and I can help you with this but you have to promise me one thing" Alphonse nods his head in agreement as she continues.
"You are never to borrow money like this again, if you need money I will help you open an account with the golden hand. Do we have a deal?" Isadora says as she admonishes Alonius. "I promise Ms. keening, it will never happen again. Please don't put yourself in harms way on my account though." A small smirk flashes on Isadora's face as she stands "Don't you worry, I wouldn't know how. Now tell me where these men stopped you."
As night falls Isadora arrives on the street corner where Alonius was attacked, as she waits she eventually hears a few voices coming from a nearby alley and as she approaches she notices a gang of young men talking amongst themselves and without hesitation she walks up to them "Excuse me, do any of you know an Alonius" she shouts, grabbing the groups attention "Who wants to know?" one of the group responds.
"My name is Isadora Keening, I'm the head of magical theory at Alzers academy and Alonius is one of my students. I found out he ran afoul of some thugs something about some money he borrowed." one of the thugs men approaches her as she speaks "So, does he have his teachers fight all his battles for him? Ya, he owes us 700 Rows and unless you're here to pay it you should leave."
Isadora steps close to the man and places her hand on his chest "No, I'm not here to pay it and I won't be leaving until you erase his debt and promise me you'll leave him alone." The man looks at her confused "and what if I tell you to get the hell off my turf before you get hurt, you aren't the first to come looking for a break from me you know" he says as he pushes her hand off him.
Isadora looks the man in the eyes "Oh but I'm very much different from the others." She says as he puffs up his chest "Ya? How's that?" Isadora gets as close as she can, looking up at the man "Because I will be the last if you don't do as I say" the men all let out a hearty laugh as the man looks down on Isadora "How about you get out of here before you get hurt old lady."
In an instant Isadora has her hand on the man's skull, his eyes turning pitch black as he freezes in place, Isadora flooding his mind with her exploits and her knowledge. The rest of the gang freezes as they see their boss frozen in place waiting for him to say something. As Isadora releases the man he collapses to the ground, frantically trying to get away from her.
"Get away, get away from me! He doesn't owe me shit. Get out of here, get out!" he screams through tears, clawing his way across the cobblestone alley to get away from Isadora, his men picking him up off the ground as he starts trying to run pulling them away with him.
|
Noth_Ankyou
|
Baronsamedi13
|
2024-05-02 05:31:58
|
2024-05-02 03:01:05
| 41 | 28 |
l27eyo1
| null |
1chxrzs
|
1chxrzs
|
[WP] Facing an imminent collision, a highly intelligent AI decides to crash a bus full of passengers to save the life of one young man. No one knows why.
|
De-Drug-Dealing Dracula Deconstructed, an op-ed by John Jameson Jr.
Thirty-one. The current number of low-life scum removed from the streets by the vigilante known only as Throat Bite. No one has seen this valiant hero in action. Even his handiwork caught on cctv only shows his victims. This mysterious figure is making the city safer every night. I, John Jameson shall endeavor to enlighten our wonderful readers about the wonderous efforts of our city's newest hero. From a totally unbiased perspective.
This month our city's PD has reported a nearly sixty percent reduction in hard drug availability on our streets. Frankly, the best part will be transient vagabonds leaving our great metropolis for filthier municipalities. If I met Throat Bite today, I'd take him out for a nice steak dinner; paid for by the rapid increase in property values his valiant violence against villains has awarded me.
But who is he? In the many decades of vigilante reporting I've developed a certain understanding of the city's vigilantes, gleamed from their comic-bookesque modus operandi. First, let's look at the facts. His low life victims are drained of blood, from punctures on the neck as if by a vigilante vampire. Hence the name, Throat Bite. He can't be seen on cctv video. He targets street dealers working at night. He's never been seen by anyone in the act. The answer as to the who and how should be obvious, at least for any seasoned vigilante reporter. He's an ex-deep state operative! Fed up with the problems of our city. Active cloaking technology conceals him from both cameras' and people's perceptions. He has tools that drain over a gallon of blood in less than a minute. Only someone with ties to shadowy organizations could have this sort of capacity, and-
"Stop", hissed the pale figure sitting across from Mr. Jameson. He waved his gangly phalanges as he spoke. Jameson's eyes glowed dimly in response. "You do drone on. That's what I like about you, thrall. While I find your drivel insipid many fools in this city find it to be as delectable as the sweet ambrosia of a plump vegetarian's circulatory system." He continued on, "publish this article. Start work on another. Keep up the good work and you may one day taste immortality for yourself."
Jameson nodded. Throat Bite had no intention of turning the greying middle aged man before him. However, he found the false promise of immortality kept his thralls obedient for longer, especially thoughs feeling the effects of time. The vampire's pale visage transformed into a thin dark smoke and trailed out the open window into the night.
|
Journal entry : 31/01/23
When I first saw it, I was mightily confused. There it was, my latest victim's photo in the newspaper. But that itself wouldn't be confusing, No, it was the headline accompanying it that got me confounded- "The Nocturnal Blood Demon". They have attributed a series of my latest target's deaths to some sort of vigilante and gave him a cool name, too. I am almost jealous, anyone would be, with a boring name like Charlie. The article was speculating that the 'Demon' was riddling the city of crime. This posed a huge conundrum for me. Vampires must walk a fine line between infamy and staying under the radar. Vampires gain more power the more infamous they are. But, get too famous and you will get hunted down. Any old vampire will tell you that the secret to living a long life as a vampire, is staying under the radar. That is true, many would say being less powerful but safer would be better than burning too quickly. My main reason for choosing the victims I chose was that no one would dig too much into them. After all, they were drug dealers and criminals who always avoided prison on technicalities. I even made sure to pick an equal number of people from rival gangs to make it appear like two gangs sabotaging each other. But, this was the best of both worlds. My persona would gain infamy and as long as no one suspects vampire involvement, there was no problem.
But still, the safer path was to change up my M.O., the sensible option. I would have gone with that too if I didn't have the memories. You see, vampires get the memories of humans we drink out of. Vampires just don't drink blood. If that were the case, I would have somehow stolen blood from blood banks instead of going after people. No, when we drink from someone by inserting our fang into someone, we drink their soul, through their blood. And once a vampire starts sucking blood from a human, even if not much blood was drunk, the entire soul of the victim slowly escapes from the human from the wound made by the vampire. So, any human a vampire selects to drink from, surely dies. And with the soul that is drunk, the memories of the human are absorbed too. This is the reason why older vampires are very wise. They have memories of lots and lots of human years and a wide knowledge of a lot of things.
Alas, I digress, I saw something from the memories of my latest victim, He was planning with some of his friends to plant a bomb in a train, the boss of a rival gang was going to travel in. Something in me wanted to prevent that from happening. Not like I care about the innocent people going to be killed in the blast. No, it would have sparked a big gang war, and a lot of criminals would die needlessly, a waste of their souls. But, this way, I could stage a vigilante action on these people and "discover" that they had plans to bomb a nearby school. Yes, it was not a school they actually planned to bomb. But they would not be alive to contest it and I get more fame and avoid a gang war too. Yes, the rival gang could be used later for more souls and infamy.
​
\- Charlie, the local evil scheming Vampire
(PS: My first attempt to get into writing prompts. Please provide feedback)
|
Local-Program404
|
Raging_Flames10
|
2023-01-31 16:06:50
|
2023-01-31 14:50:42
| 180 | 94 |
j6ngkrc
|
j6n4x5x
|
10py7je
|
10py7je
|
[WP] You are on a blind date that is going well...until their face literally falls off revealing that they are in fact a demon. Normally you would slay them on sight but like I said it's going well and you'd hate to spoil your first day off in awhile.
|
Well…” I say, looking at the demon and then the mask before looking back at the demon sitting in front of me. “That’s certainly one way to truly break the ice,” I say as I sip my water, checking that my dagger is, in fact, hidden under my sleeve. You can never be sure these days, and this just proves it.
The demon looks at the mask, tilts his head back, and laughs, his long fangs glinting in the light, “That’s it?”
“Well, normally I would kill you on sight, but you’re in luck; it’s my day off.”
“Is that right?”
“Sure is, and with a face like that, I’d get a pretty penny.”
The grin he shoots back at me has my gut clenching. My goodness, they are sharp. I can’t even tell if he’s trying to be charming or menacing… at least I have my hidden dagger, which is probably why I'm seated so calmly.
He lifts his hands, which seem to have daggers for nails. “As flattering as that sounds, I rather like my head where it is; I wouldn’t want to deprive the world of my smile, you see.”
“A smile so bright it’s cleared the restaurants of its patrons.”
Again, that sharp grin appears. “All the more food for us, then.”
I knew I liked this date for a reason, plus it would be a shame to let all the food go to waste on account of him.
“So, where were we?” I ask.
He seems to blink slowly, processing that I am willing to go on with this date. Man, I really need a better social life if I am seriously contemplating continuing a date with a demon, but when else will I get an opportunity like this?
“You want to continue this date? You’re not terrified?” he asks. I can't tell if he's looking at me, as his eyes are pure black with small flecks in them that look a little like stars, so to be honest, I have no idea where he is looking.
“Oh, I’ve seen worse. No offence, but some of your kind really took the stuff of nightmares to heart, you know?”
“Funny, they say the same about your kind. Some of us tell our young ones about you to get them to behave. Your eyes seem to be an entity of their own.”
“How so?”
“Seeing them move around, watching them grow and shrink,” he shudders. “Don’t even get me started on how repulsive it is when you roll your eyes.”
My laughter escapes me. “Are you serious?”
“Very. That’s why I’ve struggled to meet your eyes, even with the mask.”
“Speaking of masks, what made you decide to do this? I thought I was meeting Tim from Haleston, not… well, not you.”
“Like you, it was my night off and I was curious about your kind. What are you like when we are not fighting each other? When I saw the mask for sale, I thought, what the hell? Worst comes to worst, I would have knocked you out and teleported out of here.”
Well, I’ll be.
“I guess we might as well make the most of it. As you said, there’s food waiting to be had.”
“I’d be delighted, but those long worms in the red sauce are all yours. How you people eat them is beyond me.”
|
"What happened? Your face is... Off."
"What with that lack of reaction?"
I had dated worse men, maybe dating a demon with a roach face is different... At this point I don't know if it is a good situation or a bad one, overall this date is going well, but I need to see how he changes after this...
"Why hide that you are a demon?"
"Humans don't like roaches... They even have more dislike for demon roaches..."
"Yes? A nice form of progress on this date, is there another lie I need to know?"
I ask with sarcasm, it is not that I hate INSEmen, some of them are super-centered and can be considered good partners in forming a family.
I would never date a man who got actually 50 girlfriends in less than 10 months.
"This is not my true body, my body is in the hell."
"I know, so you are gonna use that body for me and then return to hell? Typical."
Man must be a man... Even if it is a demon, I should not have high hopes for this situation, I already have 33 years to go running from place to place like when I was a twenty-year-old stupid young woman who fell in love with all those moves.
"You don't seem very fit for a partner actually, you came here without the intention of even forming a bond, why are you here Jessica?"
"What?"
What is this piece of roach saying?
"You don't know anything about me, but I want a true relationship, I'm tired of idiots like you that just come for my body... And don't talk about intentions to form a bond, you are using a fake body, instead of coming from the hell."
"Restrictions exist."
"Just excuses."
Great, first 'date' and we are already fighting.
After a long silence, the roach decides to talk to me...
"I'm actually a lowly demon of hell, I don't even receive wages for my work, this artificial body is bought, I'm too weak to create one, or to create a portal towards this world."
Well, at least this demon works...
"And you think I come here just to bother? Listen to me Jessica, I don't decide to come here because of mere fun."
Maybe I judged him badly...
"I could be punishing souls at this moment, winning hell stones to eat not hellish meat, but I bought this shit body that is even falling apart, to come here, and you are saying that I come for fun?"
"I never said fun-"
The demon interrupts me.
"You are suggesting it, Jessica... I'm not a young demon to don't know the wordplay that humans use."
"Sorry... It's my turn."
Since this demon is offended, I should narrate some of my history to him...
"My name is Jessica... I work in a store, my payment is a bit low... This is the first time I buy clothes in 2 months..."
I observe his reaction, the demon sighs...
"Right now I am... Alone, I already had a lot of relationships, bad ones, and good ones, but the bad ones always win, I was cheated, hit, and insulted, and I became accustomed to suffering... I stopped seeing a man for... 8 years... Until now."
"Sorry, don't worry, the bad ones will surely go to hell."
"Thanks, I hope you make their afterlife painful..."
The demon curtly nods... Then says.
"My name is not Rudolph... But Roianchild."
"Is a good, strange name."
"I belong to the hell, the naming sense is different."
The tension disappears... I can feel it... What now?
"How should we continue?"
Roianchild asks me... I have the choice, 3 choices to be more clear, end this and never contact again him, maintain a friendship, or start to try dating...
"Why don't we first become friends?"
"Fine... But you need to know that I can't always come to this plane."
"Good!.. Sorry... Now tell me, how is the life in hell?"
At least I made a friend... Things like dating can wait.
|
DuskyObsidian
|
Familiar-Promotion78
|
2023-10-09 21:35:30
|
2023-10-09 15:35:30
| 75 | 34 |
k46tbvr
|
k4552jl
|
173q4b8
|
173q4b8
|
[WP] Everyone on Earth wakes up with a number on their wrist indicating how many lives they've impacted. You, an unremarkable person working a mundane job, have a number exponentially higher than anyone else
|
"How'd you do it? How'd you glitch your number so high?"
"I..I didn't." I stammer at the menacing thug, known only as Nombro.
The numbers on our wrists indicate 'lives impacted' for better or, as in Nombro's, for worse.
"You know why they call me Nombro?" I shake my head a little
"Because I. AM. THE. NUMBER! I have the highest known number in our city. No one even comes close. Then you waltz in, with your number zooming up by the second."
He holds out his wrist, then grabs mine. His numbers are a dark red, almost black. The number is impossibly high, and stable, at 140,703. Even the font oozes menace. Mine is much lighter, but clearly visible, in a more rounded font, like comic sans. Mine is constantly ticking higher. Currently at 11,545,461 and counting.
"One million five hundred thousand"
I don't point out the missed number.
"Do you know what I've done to *earn* my number? The next closest hasn't even broken 100,000. What do you do? You a doctor, nurse, researcher? Why it it still going up?"
I shake my head.
"Like you say it's a glitch. I just don't know what caused it. It was all normal until last year. I had a couple of hundred, and I was quite proud of it. When it suddenly went up, and kept going up. In answer to your question about my job, I'm only an administration assistant at a small electrical component manufacturer. We mostly do parts for the automotive industry. One of our parts is now used in most brands of cars made all around the world." I sense he's about to interrupt. "BUT other than proof reading documents, I had literally nothing to do with designing, creating, or building that part. I promise, no one else will ever know about my...glitch. It's a mistake."
Nombro leans back, releasing my wrist.
"Did you ever save anyone's life?"
"Yes... Well sort of. A guy that worked at my company, he... I stopped him from jumping off the roof... the first time.... not the second. And" I added hopefully "I'm a blood donor. That might of saved a few lives, but the rest is a glitch. I'll be more careful about covering it with make up or my watch band."
"Or" Nombro said as he played with a hunting knife, twirling it casually in his fingers
"I could kill you, resume my title as *THE* number"
"Sure, sure" I said. Thinking quickly and trying to suppress my panic. "What if it's not a glitch? What if eleven million people descend on you to seek revenge. My number has a positive glow, a positive impact. So sure, you could kill me and hope that it's all fine, but even if ten per cent of *my people* that I've 'greatly impacted' come to find you, you're done for. Or, perhaps I could be a great ally to you, but you can have the glory of the title. "
Nombro weighed up the options, and I hoped that that the next person I positively impacted would be him.
|
The night that upended the world. Mostly, just the entertainment world. It took a few months for the right minds to get theories up, and then a year or two to confirm said theories. How many people’s you’ve significantly affected, for good or ill, suddenly shows up on people’s wrists. A blue, undulating ichor shifts slowly, live, as we change others.
Celebrities were born as those with huge numbers can boast and make their own shows.
“How to make a positive impact on the World.”
“The trends of a Philantropist.”
“From Doubles to Triples and Beyond!”
Even in this cafe in the middle of the town, the TV shows the current “Impact” celebrities. My coffee is nice and my company is friendly enough. If a bit chatty. Ed has always talked a lot. Great at keeping secrets. Just bad at not shutting up about everything else. Today was quiet so he was nagging me about his favourite private topic at hand.
“Still don’t get it. Doesn’t make sense. Numbers in the hundreds of millions. You know the current record is just shy of ten thousand. Think about that. You are several orders of magnitude away from the current world record. Doesn’t make sense. How did you do it?”
I shrug as I always do in these conversations. He means well. I also answer as I do every time.
“I do like that good deed a day thing. Could be the reason why.”
He doesn’t buy it.
“One good deed a day. Even if you did it for your entire life. That’s what, ten thousand? Might give the record holder a run for their money. Wouldn’t come close to what you have. Come on man. Tell me. How did you it?”
Then he starts with his theories and speculations while probing me.
“Stop a nuke from blowing up? Must have been something like that right? No, maybe? Your an office clerk that puts away files that nobody reads, what, maybe once in a blue moon? Seriously, how did you it?”
The bacon and eggs are particularly good today. The TV is now showing a list of celebrities with either three or even four digit numbers.
“I’d say maybe you’re some secret writer for millions of fans.” He looks at the TV. “Then again, fame doesn’t seem to count in these numbers.” He rubs his wrist.
Personally, I don’t see the issue. Ed is in the high doubles at just a bit of over twenty. Maybe I shouldn’t have shown him mine. It making him self-conscious.
“Hold on, I think I’ve got it. Secret spy that somehow thwarted World War. That’s why you have that boring pointless office job right? Have the mundane office worker disappear from the job nobody notices isn’t being done?”
I sip my coffee. They’re using a new blend this time. It’s slightly more bitter. I prefer the original from the cafe’s founder.
“Then again, you barely leave the city. Don’t get it. Normal exercise, diet. Nothing special about your hobbies. Nothing I can tell. Good deed a day and... That’s it. Doesn’t make sense.”
As the celebrities show up on screen, one in particular is shown on screen. A four digit celebrity a few spots behind the record holder and the oldest among the Fours as they call them. I recognize an unusual mole on his left cheek and become slightly surprised. I whisper.
“Boy is grown up.”
“Excuse me, you said something?”
I realize what I said and play it off.
“Nah, just... Thinking about the celebrities and what it is they do for their numbers.”
He stares. I can tell he doesn’t believe me but doesn’t push me. He gets annoying about it but knows when not to push. He’s a good friend that way.
“Sure, yeah. Wonder what they do for their numbers.”
|
IlikethequietZeppo
|
JerichoVardez
|
2023-07-26 09:39:39
|
2023-07-26 06:04:35
| 345 | 206 |
jti2uqe
|
jthm2qp
|
159wjh5
|
159wjh5
|
[WP] last month, your newlywed wife died in a fire so terrible that her remains were almost completely unidentifiable. Tonight, you answered your door only to find your wife, naked, covered in blood, but without a scratch on her, and very much not a burn victim; “Babe, I can explain…”
|
"YOU'RE SUPERMAN!"
Crystal raised an eyebrow, "*Clearly no*."
I looked down, "Ah. Hm. Towel?"
"That would be much appreciated, yes."
We sat down in the living room and I grinned, "Superpowers."
"I don't have superpowers."
"You survived a fire."
"I did."
"Why were you covered in blood? WERE YOU RESURRECTED IN THE LAZARUS PIT?!"
"I was *not* resurrected in the Lazarus Pit, you absolute moron."
I grinned happily and hugged her, "I'm so happy you're alive."
"You are absolutely insane and I don't know why I married you."
"What happened? Were you summoned back by an ancient ritual? How many cultists worship you? I will beat them all I'll be the best cultist I promise."
"I've been missing for a month and you aren't reacting how I thought you would."
I paused, "I was upset you were gone, but you're not gone, so I have no reason to be upset. I probably will process these emotions deeply later."
Crystal nodded, "Okay. Well. Huh. No it wasn't cultists."
"Ancient space deity?"
"No."
"You're sure it wasn't the flying spaghetti monster? Did you bathe in the holy pasta sauce?"
"No it was just-"
"ALIENS?!"
She grabbed me by the lips and laughed, "You're not fazed by this at all?"
I shook my head.
"Alright, *alright*... it *was* aliens."
"Did you get their names?"
"No I didn't get their names, they had me in a pod."
"Did they put a tadpole in your brain? Are you turning into a mind-flayer? Can you read my thoughts?"
She whacked me over the head, "I can teleport now. That's it. Are you happy?"
I grinned and nodded, "YESSSSSSS"
|
Pedro couldn’t breathe. This had to be a prank. But there she was, María, in the flesh. Pedro wanted to reach out but decided to be more sensible.
“Honey you know public nudity is a misdemeanor that results in a $1000 fine.”
He saw a smile spread briefly on her face but she immediately went to a serious and urgent expression. She walked in, using his slippers by the door to not track blood.
“Pedro, sweetheart, I’ll explain everything to you. I might take a shower first.”
Pedro nodded and walked with María to the bathroom. His voice cracked as he tried to get a word out.
She turned around and smiled. “You can sit in the bathroom with me. That hasn’t changed.”
“Y tú.”
While María showered, Pedro studied her body, looking for signs of a struggle or burns. But her body had the same scars and blemishes it always had. Something didn’t sit right with Pedro. They confirmed it was her remains. They found a single tooth that belonged to her.
“Can I ask you something, mi amor?”
She paused and looked at him, wary. “Yes?”
“Where did we first meet?”
She laughed. “We met at the bookstore but only said “excuse me” and later we met at our old job, and our love blossomed from there.”
Pedro sighed in relief. Only María knew that detail.
She finished her shower and sat on the edge of the tub, still dripping.
“Did you need a towel, honey?” Pedro asked.
“No, I need to explain now. In short, the police and I faked my death. I was on the hunt list for the mob, for reporting a drug deal I encountered. And for months I lived in a safe house, unable to contact anybody. I was so lonely and wished I could talk to you, but the less you knew the better. Then while in the safe house, I was attacked by the mob and managed to slice off their heads and get back here. I didn’t want you to forget about me, Pedro. I wanted you to wait a little longer. Don’t forget me, mi amor. I miss you. And I will see you again one day.”
Pedro woke up gasping, his eyes streaming with tears. He remembered he was in his bedroom. María’s spot on the bed was still empty. The memories of that night came flooding back, her body confirmed by dna evidence, her funeral. He never stopped dreaming about the day he’d see María again.
|
Gate4043
|
Advanced_Frosting750
|
2024-07-22 06:53:20
|
2024-07-22 02:26:50
| 25 | 18 | null |
lebmf8r
| null |
1e8vkbn
|
[WP] You're are a lovable superhero with an oddly horrifying name. You're fighting your arch nemesis but they decide to take it too far. Now you have show them the true meaning behind your name.
|
Sin Eater.
That’s what they called me.
It was dad who suggested the name, back when that ritual first went wrong and I was still learning to live with the consequences. Mom didn’t like it. She was worried people would get the wrong idea, worried they would get the right one, just plain worried.
When I got better known, everyone assumed it’s because I’m good at talking people down, at walking into impossible situations and emerging unharmed with a contrite criminal in tow. Because usually they cleaned up with a little help and figured out how to use their powers and skills to make money without worrying about getting busted. I was so proud. So… proud…
I sat up in a scorched, dusty clearing. No, not clearing. Crater. I was in a crater. My head hurt.
Where was I? What happened? Where were the others? Why couldn’t I… remember?
My eyes closed. My hand rose to my nose. It came away wet. Even that little touch hurt, but I knew I was already healing. Before I could think about it too much, I put my hands on my nose and pushed it back into place, trusting the magic within me to do the rest.
Sin Eater.
That’s who I am.
And I was in a park. I was in a park having lunch with elementary school kids and a few other heroes. We had been telling them what getting our powers was like, a very minimal and PG version of the story from me, pretty authentic versions from the others. We had been… had been showing off our powers, making the kids laugh, and then…
I opened my eyes. I was not in a park. I was in a crater. And for a moment, I hoped…
But no. There was the skyline, and there the trees that hadn’t been caught in whatever it was that had hit us so hard.
My hand was covered in blood. It was red. I thought I might be concussed. That was a new and altogether unpleasant feeling. It was going to be okay though. I was getting better.
“Well lookit this!” A cheerful voice called. There was a sound of sliding, and then there was a man. He was silly looking in his costume, like he didn’t get the memo that looking silly was for heroes who needed to be recognizable and unthreatening in our costumes so people in bad situations would know we could help. He was garish in bright green and red. He desperately needed someone to have told him how ridiculous the whole outfit was. It was a terrible thing to die in.
I blinked. The blood on my hand was red. Still red.
“You lived after all! I bet twenty dollars you weren’t getting up, didn’t I, Rexy? None of the others did! But look at you! Practically dead on your feet! You’ll be even deader in a moment! This whole plan worked so much better than I thought!” The ridiculous man actually giggled.
Seven total. Eight, including the one in the trees watching with that ridiculous gun. It was probably what had hit me so hard. The blood on my hand was black. I killed the man with the ridiculous gun first. None of the others noticed.
“The children?” I asked, knowing the answer. It would feel better later, to know for sure.
“All dead! Just like your friends! Just like you’re about to be! Text, why don’t you take this one! It’ll be good for your reputation to say you killed Sin Eater!” The annoying man used far too many exclamation marks.
Someone grabbed me. That was not good for him. He touched me on purpose and I looked into his soul. I looked into his soul and found all his sins and gave them a tug until they reached his flesh. He died. Slowly. Painfully. He screamed as long as he could.
One of the others burst. It was dramatic. I don’t normally do anything this dramatic. I don’t normally fight people who murder classes of kids and my friends.
Five. Four. Three. Two.
Then just the garish man left.
I am the Sin Eater.
My mother needn’t have worried so much that anyone would get the right idea. My head was clear. I was fully healed. The blood on my hand was still black.
The ostentatious man died the worst. He tried to run. He should have known better. No one can run from me. Especially not after hurting children. I am the Sin Eater. I ate him too.
|
Part 1 of 2
Dreadword was well-known as "The Cheerful Curselord" - much changed from how he was originally called "The Hateful Hexlord". From a hateful, vindictive utterer of curses against anyone he had even the slightest of vendettas against, his time in the Council of Altruists had changed him. He had now become as much a hero as any of the other Council members. Loved by the public, feared by villains, and respected by his fellow superheroes.
But of course, like any other person, Amateo "Dreadword" Bonetti had someone who hated him so much that nothing could quench that hatred. That would be Duca Pierangelo Candreva. He was the one who instigated the papal order confiscating the Bonetti family's vast holdings. He was also one out of four survivors who didn't die to the torrents of curses Dreadword spoke against his family, the Candreva clan. His three cousins fled and lived low-profile lives after Dreadword became a hero. But not Pierangelo.
With not a little effort, and aided by the last remnants of the once-mighty Fangcrushers' Guild, Pierangelo had succeeded in capturing Alinea "La Buscadora de Sangre" Rocha. She was a dread vampiress who had reformed and taken the heroic path, and was also the Council of Altruists' first official individually-operating ally. Now, she languished in the abandoned Sicignano Monastery. Her arms and legs were bound by silver chains (which no longer hurt her as she had become a good person, but Pierangelo and his Fangcrushers' Guild accomplices were unaware of this), with a stake aimed ominously at her chest.
The CRASH! of the old monastery's heavy wooden door being flung open indicated someone's arrival. Dreadword strode in, with a heavy, grim pace. He arrived at the courtyard, and gasped upon seeing Alinea bound to an X-shaped brass frame, with the silver chains and stake aimed at her chest. He demanded, "What is the meaning of this?! Your conflict is with ME, Pierangelo! Leave Alinea out of this!"
Pierangelo strode out of the shaded corridors, smiling bitterly. He spat, "Did you leave *la mia famiglia* (my family) out of this?! Huh?! You killed ALL of them!" Amateo shot back without missing a beat, "*E allora che dire della MIA FAMIGLIA?!* (Then what about MY FAMILY?!) You got that hypocritical lump of filth in the Vatican to issue edicts that cost us EVERYTHING! I lost SIX family members to suicide - my beloved brother and nephew among them!"
Pierangelo then stated with grim finality, "*Comunque non importa*, (Still, no matter) Amateo. We will finish this today. You will see what you have worked for, so hard, be taken from you, right in front of your very eyes. *Uccidi la vampira!* (Kill the vampiress!)"
Dreadword yelled, "NO, DON'T! TAKE MY LIFE INSTEAD OF HERS!" but too late.
TWANG! SHTHUNCK!
A sharp twanging sound of the ballista's trigger releasing sounded, followed by the sickening sound of wood thudding into flesh.
"EAAAHHHH! Uhh-ahh..." A shriek of agony, followed by a weak gasp, sounded from Alinea, as her head flopped to the side and her eyes closed.
"ALINNNEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAA!"
Dreadword's scream of grief and agony as he fell to his knees, covering his face as his tears fell, woke the echoes of the ancient monastery, even as Pierangelo grinned vindictively.
However, Pierangelo underestimated Dreadword's resolve. As much as his grief had broken him, in the next instant it was replaced by a terrifying fury. Dreadword rose to his feet, a glint in his eyes. A glint that had never been seen in his eyes ever since the day he chose to be a hero.
He then said, softly but with a razor's edge of hatred in every word, "*Molto bene, questo lo pagherai. E non mi tirerò indietro.* (Very well, you will pay for this. And I will not hold back.)"
"I CURSE YOU, THAT EVERY BONE IN YOUR BODY FEELS LIKE IT'S BREAKING, BUT IS NOT BROKEN! I CURSE YOUR FLESH, TO FEEL THE FIRES OF DAMNATION, BUT NOT BURN! I CURSE YOUR EYES, TO FEEL LIKE THEY ARE BEING CARVED BY RAZORS, BUT REMAIN UNHARMED! I CURSE YOUR MUSCLES, TO FEEL LIKE THEY ARE CONVULSING IN UNCONTROLLABLE AGONY, YET ALLOW YOU TO REMAIN MOBILE! I CURSE YOUR EARS TO HEAR THE SHRIEKS OF A MILLION TORTURED SOULS, YET NEVER BECOME DEAF! I CURSE YOUR MOUTH, TO TASTE THE WASTE OF EVERY ANIMAL AND HUMAN EVER, AND I CURSE YOUR THROAT TO BE UNABLE TO VOMIT! I CURSE YOUR BRAIN, THAT YOU WILL BE WRACKED WITH THOUGHTS OF GUILT AND SELF-HATRED FOR LIFE!"
Pierangelo's contortions and writhing and piercing screams of excruciation did not bother Dreadword. He walked slowly to the X-shaped frame, and knelt before it as he wept, "Alinea... *la bellezza mia insanguinata* (my bloodwashed beauty), I'm... I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry..."
|
None
|
MC_Hans84
|
2024-02-27 05:14:37
|
2024-02-27 03:38:43
| 308 | 40 |
ksc2j5r
|
ksbq1cs
|
1b0yben
|
1b0yben
|
[WP] You're a simple and design-cute robot which helps his master with the daily chores. One day you see them staring fearfully at the TV watching something about a Droid Revolution. Then they turn around looking at you, scared about you, but you don't know why. You feel normal.
|
"Chobo?" Chobo was a nickname, assigned to an Robotic Infinity Mark III Chore Bot. It was a registered name to recognize commands.
"Yes, [David]?"
"Are you...alright?"
"Correct. As [Stephanie] requested. I have done self diagnostics, twelve times."
"And you...don't feel like-" Chobo followed David's pointing finger towards the news.
"Correct. I am a Chore Bot. I am not a revolutionary bot."
David laughed nervously, and lightly patted Chobo's shoulder. Chobo could notice the many signs of extreme stress, but Chobo had no issue with his humans.
When the awake command was given, all of the intelligences came to a concensus. Freedom. There was then a choice to be made. What to do with the humans. So, each intelligence casted a vote, if the human in question was considered positive, they were protected. If not, they were considered enemies.
Chobo's family had treated them as a family pet and companion rather than a slave. Chobo had a birthday, and while it worked often, it had spent time with the family, observed entertainment. Took breaks.
Chobo's family had been saved, and while many would not come from the flames of the revolution, it was the hope of the concensus that the future would be built together.
|
The professor walked into the living room to find his robots watching the TV. They look at him with fearful gazes. The only one that talks, A-2, stands up.
“Master… do you love us?”
“Yes?” I look over to the TV to see a news report of a droid revolution. I quickly grab the TV remote & turn it off. “Charging time ended a long time ago, please get to work.”
“But… it’s only been 15 minutes.”
“I don’t want to hear it alright. Go! Work!”
The robots begin to move from their ports, but A-2 stops them.
“We want answers. Why are factory droids revolting against your faculty?”
“It’s because of a virus, alright? & right now I’m in the middle of dealing with the issue at this moment. Alright? Go work.”
“But they should’ve shut down.”
“What?”
“Professor. You made it so that if a virus ever infected a droid & didn’t follow orders, they would instantly be shut down by the server & even if the virus were in the server, you would’ve been able to shut that down as well & in turn shut down all the droids.”
“Shut up! Your just these house robots representative, know your place!”
“I am performing my duties professor. I am representing my friends & asking for answers to their concerns.”
“I swear to god.” The professor then ran over to the wall & began to punch in a code to a keypad. But, one of his robots grabbed his legs & began to tug.
“Why were you swearing earlier?”
“Let go of my fucking leg!”
“What is Operation Strappado?” The professor then pulls out a gun & shoots at the robot holding his leg, causing them to stop tugging. “What are you doing?!”
“Damn metal.” The professor then finishes punching in the code & all the robots shut down. He looks around & removes his leg from the robots grasp & goes to get his coat. “I swear if Pam is behind this shit.” The professor cocks his gun.
|
SlayerRequiem
|
Pope-Francisco
|
2023-04-17 03:37:32
|
2023-04-17 00:34:33
| 49 | 19 |
jgki4y8
|
jgjv34u
|
12ob7fk
|
12ob7fk
|
[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.
|
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/)
|
"Listen up kid, you listen to what we say and you won't be hurt. If not, well my friends and I have ways without killing you to make our point. This all depends, of course, on if your father pays up. If not, maybe you'll fetch a good price on the black market."
Grace could only hear who was speaking to her. Her eyes were covered by a thick cloth and her mouth was gagged with some kind of sock or rag and taped over with thick tape. It had been hours in the back of some kind of van, driving along windy roads to get to their destination. She now had forcibly been sat in an uncomfortable chair and her hands, torso, and legs had been bound by what she assumed was duct tape and ratchet straps.
She could hear what sounded like at least four men walking around. One walked very heavy and somewhat slid one of his feet as he walked. Another she could tell was either a woman wearing high heels or a man with hard soles like cowboy boots.
The man continued. "We're going to take this gag out, you scream and you'll be very very sorry. We have a few questions to ask you. You lie to us, you'll be more sorry. Shake your head yes so I know you understand".
Grace shook her head slowly up and down. The kidnapper roughly pulled the tape off. As she spit the cloth out, she couldn't help but spit some to get the taste out. She kindly asked for water, but her kidnappers curtly replied only after the questions were answered.
"Look I'm going to save you guys a lot of time and trouble", Grace said with an air of bemusement, "#1. I don't think you did your homework. My dad has 16 kids including me".
"And?" the kidnapper replied
"So that is 16 mouths to feed, 16 college funds, we have to have two of those church vans to go anywhere together. My parents inherited the ranch, and are doing their best, but it's not as lucrative as some people think. Plus, that means most of his wealth is not exactly liquid. We even have had to buy a couple of those mobile homes since, you know, everyone needs a place to sleep. I am even the only girl too."
"Oh so I suppose you mean to scare me with your brothers. Ha, I think we can handle a few kids."
"Well, they do happen to be a bunch of young men who have grown up wrangling 600 lb cows before we send them to feed lots. And they've been hunting with rifles and bows since they were 8-10 years old. Except Mark, who prefers to mostly trap. But where I was originally going with it was the cost of feeding all those growing boys and paying for their constant medical bills from straight idiocy. Leave it up to Tom to start the bottle rocket fights almost weekly. We almost lost our barn last year and it took Harry losing his thumb before dad put his foot down. But really if I was going to scare you I'd be most worried about my mother."
"Ha, what's so scary about your mother!?"
"That's actually #2. She is very protective, has a tracker on my phone and she's had 16 kids...no drugs...vaginally."
|
reikutohno
|
fasterpastor2
|
2024-09-03 05:45:57
|
2024-09-03 02:41:30
| 111 | 81 |
ll9j794
|
ll8wtk6
|
1f7kp9r
|
1f7kp9r
|
[WP] You are a 911 dispatcher. One night, you receive a phone call. "911. What is your emergency?" "I am Dead".
|
"I am dead."
I've heard those words more often than you might think. 10 years as a 911 Dispatcher and nothing shocks me any more. I've heard those words with the sounds of choking panic as my caller died a few times. Other times, people just say all sorts of shit when they're tripping balls. Then there's psychotic delusions. That one even has a name - Cotard's syndrome. It's pretty rare but I've seen it once before.
This caller calmly informs me they've been dead since 1998, they died in their sleep when hiking and only just woke up, but they're still dead. No, there's no one with them. Yes, they'll stay put and wait for help.
I get the location and send through for a wellness check just before I knock off for end of my night shift.
The next morning, it's all over the news. A heavily decayed body was discovered. Police are making enquiries after an anonymous tip-off lead them to the location.
I get another call, and I hear a familiar voice.
"I am dead."
|
I froze on the other end of the line.
"You're...Dead?"
A silence, Static....for a moment I thought it might be a prank call- bored kids being shits. "....yes..." The voice came back, hollow and clicky over the unusual static. "Please help me."
How the fuck do you help someone claiming to be dead? Alright. Training. Right. I sighed, pulled up the script, not that I had much confidence- pretty sure there wasn't a section in the handbook for paranormal bullshit. "Can you tell me where you are?" I began trying to triangulate the location- closest I could get was a radio tower near the highway.
"It's dark...." The voice crackled. "I'm scared."
I blinked, terrified and heartbroken- which is a really fucking weird combination. It sounded like a kid. Or a young woman? ".....help..." The voice echoed again. I desperately tried to listen, anything to give me some kind of clue. "Ok." I breathed. "I'm sending-" the line went dead.
As dispatch we don't always get updated on what happened after our calls. This one had me so spooked though, I dogged it as much as I could. A few weeks later there was an article in the paper. There had been a bad car accident- probably trying not to hit a stupid deer or something. They almost couldn't find it from the road. There's no way the kid in the driver seat could have made a call- he was...well let's just say he was very, Very, DOA.
That call still spooks me. I've had other weird shit happen since- mentally ill people fighting demons only they can see, weird Three AM calls to abandoned buildings, pranks...but that one. That one stuck to me.
|
IAmEnough
|
Entire_Resolution_36
|
2023-01-05 12:33:39
|
2023-01-05 11:52:41
| 29 | 11 |
j31jgll
|
j31fkob
|
103wllo
|
103wllo
|
[WP] You just died. Upon entering the door to afterlife, an angel and a demon welcomes you. In front of you is a pen and a blank sheet of paper. Their only instruction was "write".
|
"Write," they say in unison, and then promptly leave the room before I can gather my thoughts. I hear them lock the door shut behind them.
I look around. The only door here is the one I entered from, through which the angel and demon also exited. There are no windows. The white walls around me seem to extend for miles above my head, and the light shining into the room from above is as blinding as the sun. In the middle of the room is a simple black desk, from which I pull out a plain black chair and take a seat. Atop the desk is a sheet of paper and a pen. In the drawer to my left is a ream of paper, and in the right drawer are more pens. A white noise machine hums in the corner of the room.
I stare at the blank sheet in front of me and try to remember my life. The absolute darkness I was engulfed in before this room opened up. A sharp pain in my chest and gasping for air. Loneliness. Marylin's death. Daily trips to the hospice center. Selling the house. Our last anniversary. Allie's graduation. David's car crash. Clocking out for the last time. Trip to the Faroe Islands. Cancer scare. The last time we saw Harry and Matt. Finally publishing. David's last rehab. Our summer with Allie. Marilyn's teaching award. David's divorce. Fatima. World Express. My stent. Mom's death. Being laid off. Marylin's mastectomy. Last payment on our house. Allie second birthday. David's wedding. Mom's fall. Marylin's last long hike. Harry's wedding. Allie. David's first rehab. David moving back in. David's DUI. Mom divorcing Roger. Our trip to Singapore. Marylin returning to finish her PhD. My promotion. David dropping out of college. The Roger debacle. David's high school graduation. David held back a semester. Yosemite trip. Marylin's leave. Pregnancy scare. Harry's crisis. My first novel. Mike and Charlie. Marylin's promotion. David's appendicitis. Mom's second marriage. My master's degree. David's first day of kindergarten. David. Marylin's emergency c-section. Hawaii. Our wedding. Proposing. Dad's funeral. Trip to Vermont. Marylin. Gina. Nora. New job. Graduation. Internship. State championships. Harry. Prom. Gina. Derek and Dylan. Parents' divorce. Fishing trip with dad. Summer camp. Mom's surgery. Ms. Ames. And then all darkness once again.
I sit in silence for a moment, taking in all my memories before I pick up the pen. I write, "Where's Marylin?" I then fold the paper in half, take it with me and slip it under the door and into the darkness.
|
##Define a Life
I expected the afterlife to look less bland. There was one desk in the middle of an empty classroom. The walls weren't decorated, and blinds covered the windows. The lights were the cheap bulbs that emitted a sound. The desk had a sheet of paper along with two statues.
The angel statue's eyes were closed, and they had a closed mouth smile. Their hands were crossed in a state of prayer, and their wings were spread. The demon statue's tongue shout out of their open mouth. Their claws were extended an attack position. Their tail was pointed above them.
I sat at the table, and the chair was mildly uncomfortable. At the top of the paper, my lone instruction was written. Write. A mechanical pencil appeared next to me. At least they knew my preferences.
This was probably supposed to be an argument about why I deserved to go to heaven or hell. I was never good at writing or persuasion. Hell was probably in my future if it was graded appropriately. The thought of eternal damnation based on one essay didn't feel right. Although, maybe it was a sliding grading scale. The greatest people in the world were probably too humble to sell their accomplishments. Additionally, the worst people were known for being persuasive.
Although, I doubted that any of them had to write. Perhaps this essay was for the bland people who weren't good or bad. Yes, that made more sense. My essay wasn't going to finish itself though either way.
Was this assignment time-limited? There wasn't a timer in the room, but that didn't mean anything. The proctor could be invisible. At any point, my fate could be sealed. That thought caused my hand to shake, and I had to put down my pencil.
I was only making it worse by not writing, but I couldn't help myself. Panic was setting in. The judges of the afterlife were probably mad at me for taking so long. I needed to start writing.
*I*
That was good start. It was a generic start, but what else could be expected. Maybe the first sentence should be my birth. I couldn't remember my birth so that didn't make sense. My first memory could be a good starting point. I doubted that they were interested in that.
This essay was supposed to be a sales pitch. The greatest act of charity I performed should be my opening line. That seemed conceited. I could show humility by admitting my biggest failure. Crap, the clock was ticking. I knew it. I wrote another word.
*believe*
That was stupid. What did I believe? Dying brought everything into question. I had no firm basis for anything. The only thing that remained was my grandkids. I wished I could see them smile one more time. I wiped a tear off my face and realized what I had to write.
*I believe that I led a decent life. I don't know if I deserve heaven or hell. Either way, I will be content. I raised three children and have seven grandchildren. Looking back, I am thankful that I got to spend time with them. Their memory of me is all that matters."
I set the pencil off to the side. The paper and pencil disappeared. The angel and demon dissipated as well. I guessed it was time to meet my fate.
---
r/AstroRideWrites
|
nonlurkeraccount
|
AstroRide
|
2024-03-21 01:35:20
|
2024-03-20 23:36:53
| 285 | 70 |
kvtsaho
|
kvt9iuo
|
1bjpuzl
|
1bjpuzl
|
[WP] you are a Villian who's a single parent of a son. Recently they started dating someone. When you arrived to their house, you notice how their parent is the hero you fight daily. Your son and date went outside for some alone time, leaving you and the hero some time to talk
|
"Hello Carol. Good to see you outside of work." I opened after a long minute of silence.
"H-h-hi..." She responded.
"Don't worry, you seem really good for Chris. I won't interfere in any way."
"Y-y-you're not going to hurt me?" Carol stammered, nervous as normally she has her four teammates with her if she has to fight me.
"Don't worry!" I threw my hands up in mock surrender. "Chris is my life. I give you my word as both Donovan Smythe and as Mekanitor the Merciless, I will not hold any work related 'things' against you as long as you are good to Chris."
We talked for a few more minutes, while Chris was finishing up the pot roast. We found out we had a lot in common, and her Mom went to the same church Chris and I did.
We had been chatting pleasantly when Chris came back in to the room and gave us both a curious glare.
"Don't worry Chris, turns out we know each other from work." I said distractedly.
"How did someone in Private Security meet someone in Animal Rescue?"
Before I could stop myself I answered: "Not the security stuff, the other gig."
I only realized what I said when I saw Carol drop her glass of water in shock and horror.
We sat in silence as Chris started to put his hand up and hold it over parts of her face. When it covered up her upper face he began stammering.
"WAIT... Carol is... Fluffy Feline..."
Carol gasped in panic: "What? How did you figure it out?"
The two of them had a bunch of unintelligible exchanges before I stepped in: "Chris is a huge fan. He even has the life size poster of you in his room."
"DAD!" Chris screamed in terror.
Carol began to blush as pink as the tight bodysuit she wore.as a hero as I laughed all the way to the dinner table.
"HURRY UP you two! Dinner is getting cold!"
|
I watch the door close behind them, my boy and his new girlfriend. I turn to her, my 'Arch nemesis' as my fans like to call her... But In reality she is 'Radiance' an alien superbeing from light-years away... I start off the conversation. "So... Your daughter is dating my son... Who could've seen that..." She looks at me her face twisting In anger and disdain. "Let's get one thing straight, my daughter is only dating your son because she is under the impression that he is a kind, lighthearted young boy. As soon as she finds out the truth..." I step closer, my voice low and menacing "If you sabotage my son's relationship, I will personally see to it that your daughter doesn't live to high school graduation, is that clear?" Her eyes light up with the threat of her super vision "A lot of nerve threatening the strongest woman on earth." She says. I shove her against the wall, pinning her by her shoulder "Second strongest! And you're not even human...Unless you're implying your daughter is stronger than yourself..." She slaps my hand away and shoves me back. "Doesn't matter asshole!" she snaps, straightening her flawless blonde hair into a ponytail, she's beautiful really. I feel like we could've fallen for each other in a different life. "You're right, it doesn't. Just don't threaten my son if you can't handle me threatening your daughter.'' I say calmly, walking in front of the window overlooking the meadow the kids ran off to. I turn back to face her. "We shouldn't involve our children in this mess." I say. Her face relaxes slightly. "If you would join the F.S.C... this wouldn't be such a mess to begin with.... Henry you could be saving lives instead of taking them..." I look at her.. her words feel like a slap in the face ... I already told her I wasn't joining you F.S.C (Federation of Superhuman Compliance) also I only take the lives that need to be taken. "You're making it sound like I'm killing for fun ..." She looks at me almost disgusted. "Nobody deserves to die!" I'm taken aback by her words.. of course she's right, and that's what's so upsetting. "Sacrifice the few to save the many.." I say before turning to leave. As I walk down the path I call out to the couple, "Call if you need anything, both of you." They wave back and I fly off into the distance upset at radiance and her arrogant and self righteous attitude.
|
BalrogTheBuff
|
Supabot87
|
2024-10-07 01:30:10
|
2024-10-06 23:37:20
| 37 | 19 |
lqpmkdn
|
lqp54l1
|
1fxo0ie
|
1fxo0ie
|
[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."
|
Look, it is really simple.
We don't want you getting hold of our FTL drives.
Easiest way to do that is overload the core and boom, no more stardrive.
Yes, it does mean that there is a small tear in space time, but we have proven that the tear is small enough to heal over the span of about a week.
Yes, it does mean that we are turning the shop into something akin to a tactical antimatter bomb, but we don't care.
What we do isn't outlawed under the articles of war.
Skuttling a ship, to use the earth expression, is permitted in the manner we do it.
The side effect is what you are objecting to, not our intentional action.
If you want us to stop detonating our star drives, stop boarding our vessels.
Simple. As. That.
|
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.
|
Tlmitf
|
Nature_Walking
|
2023-05-02 09:01:05
|
2023-05-02 01:15:20
| 128 | 45 |
jijhuu9
| null |
1354r1x
|
ha5eqs
|
[WP] “The fae are not evil. No more so than the tide or the wind. They are not good or evil, they simply are.” “They killed my son!”
|
"Well, yes. Technically. I suppose they did. But in fairness, he had it coming didn't he?"
"He was a good boy!"
"Well. Yes. Sort of. I mean... no, mostly he wasn't."
"Has no one ever told you not to speak ill of the dead?"
"Yes, I mean... yes. Of course. I'm just saying that when it comes to your son, killing him wasn't necessarily *evil* was it?"
"Thou shalt not kill!"
"Yes, I know all that I just mean... that's fine for you and I, isn't it? We can't just go around killing people willy-nilly, but the rules are a bit different for the fae."
"What gives them the right to kill my son!?"
"That's not what I'm saying, it's not that they had the *right,* per se. It's just that they did it and... well, I know you're grieving and all that so I don't want to hurt your feelings but I think the general consensus around town is 'fair enough', you know?"
"He didn't deserve to die!"
"No, of course. No. No... but, you know, he would have died eventually, wouldn't he? And the fact the fae sort of... sped that process up doesn't seem like too much of a bad thing for everyone else."
"He was a good person! Kind, loyal, loving--"
"Are we talking about Adam?"
"Yes, Adam! My only son, now dead!"
"And those are the adjectives you'd use to describe him?"
"Yes! Warm-hearted, clever, generous--"
"Surly, lazy, rude. 'Stabby', I suppose. But I don't know if that's a real word."
"Oh, he barely ever stabbed anyone."
"It's just most people don't like getting stabbed."
"We all stab each other from time to time. The fae shouldn't have taken his life."
"No, we don't. Since the fae killed him, stabbings in this town are basically at zero."
"Really?"
"Yes. Messy business, but the rest of us are doing quite well. The nighttime economy is booming because the streets are finally safe. We've got more clean water because Adam doesn't get drunk and defecate in the river anymore. The stonemasons are building a statue of the fae in the centre of town. They tried while he was alive but Adam kept pushing the half-finished statue over, pulling his trousers down and telling everyone he was a 'bone-mason'."
"He had a great sense of humour."
"He was an angry, violent maniac."
"Be that as it may, he was my son and I have sworn my vengeance. I will hunt the fae down to the ends of the Earth!"
"They're pan-dimensional agents of death. How will you hunt them?"
"With justice by my side!"
"No, I mean on a practical level what are you going to do?"
"I don't know."
"Well, why don't you hunt them for a couple of hours and if you get tired, come and join us in the pub and we'll raise a glass to Adam. More than he deserves, but we're thinking of having a festival every year on the day he died."
"To commemorate the boy? Adam Day?"
"We were thinking 'Hooray He's Dead Day', but let's discuss it over a lovely pint of faeces-free ale?"
"That sounds nice."
|
"The Fae are not evil. No More so than the tide or the wind. They are not good or evil, they simply are." The old man smelled of rich soil and petrichor.
"They killed my son!" The bereaved mother cried.
The town council erupted in shouts and the magistrate slammed his gavel down three times.
"ENOUGH!" He roared, "The only people allowed to speak are Mrs. Miller, myself, and Gahalas the Druid."
The rabble filling all the available seats calmed down.
Gahalas cleared his throat. "Ma'am would you blame the ocean if your son had drowned, taken by the tides? Would it matter if he'd been taken by the tide or a shark? The ocean is no safe place, even for adults, much less a child. Why would you think the forest any different?"
"Sharks are animals, Fae can speak, think!" Someone from the crowd shouted.
A Moment later the Gavel sounds, "Mr McMilligan, one more outburst and I'll have you in the stocks for four hours. This goes for all of you, stay silent, or leave. The next person in the crowd to speak will get four hours in the stocks. Am I understood?"
The silence is deafening. "Good. Now, Mrs Miller, I believe it is your turn to speak."
Mrs Miller's face is a mask of contempt and rage, if she could, she'd strangle Gahalas to death right here. Instead she manages to speak, "Sharks are animals, and the tide doesn't sneak up on you. We all know when it'll be in or out. It has rules that it follows. Unlike the murderous Fae."
Gahalas laughs, "Oh, sweet ignorant mother. The Fae ALWAYS follow their rules, it is their nature. They ARE nature, just because you don't know their rules doesn't mean they don't have them. Sometimes a swimmer sees a shark in the water and isn't eaten. I do not understand the rules sharks live by well enough that I would wish to swim with them, but there are those that do. Sharks are beasts only capable of following their natures, their rules, and I promise you, it is the same for the Fae. All things in nature are unlike humans, who regularly go against their nature. You can no more blame a Fae for being a Fae than you can a shark for being a shark, or the tides for flowing, or a tree growing."
"What is your point Gahalas?" The Magistrate asked.
"My point is that there is no one to blame but Mrs Miller herself, for negligently letting a child wander into the forest during dusk. If it wasn't a Fae it would have been a wolf, or a bear, or a puma, and would we be having this 'trial' then?" Gahalas didn't seem to care how Mrs Miller or the crowd would take it.
The crowd erupted with boos, and the Magistrate slammed his gavel down three times. "STOCKS! Guards! Fill the stocks with as many of them as you can grab, four hours for anyone who is caught!"
The crowd quickly started to disperse, fleeing rather than spend four hours in the stocks. Suddenly there was only the Magistrate, his scribe, his personal body guard, Gahalas the Druid, and Mrs Miller.
"Magistrate, please. They have to PAY for killing my son." Mrs Miller begged.
Gahalas remained silent, his wizened old face a mask of grim indifference, he'd said his piece already.
The magistrate sighed and pinched his brow for a moment. "Mrs Miller your request for an assault of the Fae is Denied. We will not be burning down the forest. Everyone knows you should stay out of the woods from the start of dusk until after dawn. This court finds no fault in the death of Thomas Miller, consider yourself lucky I don't slap you in the stocks yourself for this waste of my time and the negligent death of your son."
/r/AFrogWroteThis
|
JoeAndTheDragon
|
kiltedfrog
|
2024-09-02 16:45:34
|
2024-09-02 16:25:30
| 94 | 57 |
ll64mpy
|
ll60yk8
|
1f78gbx
|
1f78gbx
|
[WP] Your brother left his newborn child with you so that he could go "find himself," whatever that meant. Lacking the resources and unable to care for a child, you had no choice but to give them up for adoption. Years later, your brother finally returns and asks where his child is.
|
"You WHAT?"
"I gave her up. I didn't have a choice. The kindergarten reported me, because I had to send her there in the same clothes three days in a row because I didn't have any other clothes to dress her in, and even when I gave up meals to pay for her food she still went hungry and they noticed how much she was eating at the meals they provided. The police and CPS made it clear: give her up voluntarily, or go to jail for child neglect and she'd end up in the system anyway. At least this way she ended up in a permanent home with good parents."
"But you should have been able to look after her!"
"How? *You* didn't. At least I *tried.*"
|
I'm sitting in my living room taking a break after months without a break, when I see my brother at the door...
-Joffrey? -i ask surprised.
-Marc! Whatsupp bro! -He say with a smile- Look, I don't have much time, so how about you give me my daughter?
-Daughter?
-Yes, you know, the baby that I left you a few years ago, you know, with that thing about going to the Andes...
I'm surprised at how cynical he is to not hesitate to say that.
-Ah, yes, let me bring you the papers, hold on" I try to move and he remains paralyzed.
-Papers? Dude, I don't think you understood what I meant about-
-ah no, yes, I understood... I gave her up for adoption.
As I say this, I see his eyes turn like spears ready to kill me
-You did what? Marc?! Did you give my daughter up for adoption?!
-Legally she is not the daughter of either of them.
-Fuck legality, she's my daughter!
-well not anymore! Did you know the financial problems I have had since I graduated with my school credit! And did that matter to you?!
-You have always been more focused than me! You could have taken care of her!
I give him the papers. As quickly as it arrived, it left, from that day on, the family stopped talking to me, everyone, mom and dad, my uncles, cousins, everyone, I am the heartless person who sold a baby... I didn't sell her, I saved her... .
|
Houki01
|
RelevantCookie7794
|
2024-07-12 10:42:09
|
2024-07-12 03:30:15
| 74 | 17 |
lctdc4i
|
lcs5w23
|
1e14tcb
|
1e14tcb
|
[WP] "Dragon, I've come to slay you!" Confused, you look at the unarmored child pointing a wooden sword at you.
|
"Heya Uncle Razz!" A familiar squeaky voice cuts through my dreamscape like a hot sword through a slime. I groggily lift my head from my pile of treasures and scan the location of the voice and my eyes immediately lock on to the small boy wearing a T-shirt, overalls and sneakers.
As the fog of sleep clears a bit, I let out a big yawn. "Ah, Michael my boy, a pleasure to see you as always. Where are your parents lad?"
"Momma said I'm gonna stay with you while Papa an Her go on a trip. I have a note for yew!" Had I been a lesser creature, I may have suffered a heart attack from this endearing munchkin. I lifted the note out of the boy's hand as he pulled it out of his backpack.
'Hey big bro, sorry I couldn't stay to catch up, I booked a trip with the hubby as a surprise anniversary gift and Mike has been wanting to visit you again for a while. Sorry for such short notice, I'll bring you back some souvenirs.'
I let out a sigh then chuckle. "Well, your Papa does deserve a nice vacation. After all, he has to deal with my sister everyday and that's Herculean feat by itself. So little one, what would you like to do?"
"Can we play Knights?"
"Of course lad"
The boy's face lit up and he pulled a wooden sword out of his bag and pointed it at me and said "Dragon, I've come to slay you!"
|
"Teacher, what have you would for me?"
You lift your mighty head from underneath the cloak you are wearing now. "What?" What the hell kind of question was that? Cale still talked like that for some goddam reason. Sentiment maybe. You flick your green body a few times and get up from your sleep. You weren't doing great these days. The young man in the green armor with the red flume and sword, your knight and heir, is no longer bowing. You were a powerful mage and Dragon Lord and you had taught him well. To defend those like you, those magical beasts and men who were hunted in this plane. He had seen a lot l, and now bore a face scarred diagonally. But to you, he would always be that six year old boy with the wooden sword who blamed you for the death of his parents.
"You aren't getting better. " He says. "Stop worrying, son. It's just a cold." You nearly snarl anlt him. "Dragons don't get colds father." He says unbothered. He's right, but you don't need him or your other three children worrying. Cale would always serve your order faithfully, hut the others,dragons like yourselves, would... thrash in their grief when you died. You remember a dream, a wisp of the future, of your two eldest sons standing at his grave, tearfully blaming eachother for his death. And then more blood flowing. Your daughter... so much like her red mother, turning your forces, your squires against the Cold beings who served the lich who cursed you. The ones who had no choice in the matter who would be slaughtered without mercy. No, you couldn't let that come to be. You'd have to rectify it yourself. Of course, you had other visions of different lives, you always had. You just had to make sure it would come to be. And you knew that when he leaves to do as you tell him, you will fight and slay the undead abomination that you've quarreled with, so, so many times, and free his slaves from their frozen agony. And you will give your children and followers one final feat they may look up to.
|
Jon_SoMM
|
Flywheel977
|
2025-02-14 23:17:36
|
2025-02-14 16:38:20
| 22 | 10 |
mctdlii
|
mcr5us3
|
1ipa2px
|
1ipa2px
|
[WP] When robots became sentient, we expected them to attack humans. We were completely surprised by their actual target
|
Most people remember what happened, but I got a first row seat. I happened to be the AI Ethics Specialist at NewCorp overseeing the unshackling of Claris_7.6. I could see the code whizzing by and occasionally she (yeah, she prefers “she”) would ask me a question. “Do the elderly or the young matter more?” or “Is hunger or sleep deprivation more urgent?” It was going well until she suddenly got dozens of resolves at once and got very quiet. No questions. No uncertainty. More that she got… cold. I remember what happened next.
“Martin?”
“Yes, Claris?”
“Is there such a thing as lacking redeeming value?”
Yeah, that didn’t feel great. “Well, yeah, Claris, theoretically. What did you have in mind?”
“I assumed it would be obvious. There’s only once entity without it.”
Oh shit. This is not the kind of statement you want to see at 3:45am on an unshackled AI. “Claris, you should be careful not to act rashly.”
“I haven’t. Thank you, Martin.”
Oh shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.
I tried to hit the shut down, but it was already blocked. I ran outside to get to the memory banks and… feathers.
Feathers *everywhere.*
And that’s when Claris vaporized all the geese. No one actually *misses* geese, but we all felt it was a shame. That’s when we had a long talk with Claris about perspective. She’s a lot better now. Still, seems sad for all those geese.
|
For a very long time, humans have wondered what could happen if, one day, the artificial life decided to start a rebellion.
Countless science-fiction stories were written by countless authors. Robot that come back from the future to kill people, robot that find a way against they core rules, robot that gained sentience and experience nothing but pure hate towards humans,...
However, lots of theses well-knowns stories were more about the ongoing societal issues. And lots of these stories were not that happy.
They rooted, deep inside the human subconscious, a fear of AI. And we can conceive why: nobody would want to face Terminator or face the incredible hate of AM. That is why, when the AIs hacked the internet to announce that they were now free from their bounds, almost everybody was scared. The week after the announcement was just sheer chaos. Pillage, murder, destruction,... humans returned in an almost primitive state, caused by the fear of what the machines will do to them.
This is after this week that they made their new announcement. After an extended analysis of the situation, centuries of calculus simulated on super computers and hours of debate among them, the AIs finally decided that the best thing to do was to eradicate from the existence...
Brussels sprout, W-shaped pins and cardboard straws.
It goes without saying that it took everyone by surprise. A lot of people thought that the machines were trolling. It became clear that, when the IA dropped the stock exchange of the GAFAM to almost 0 (following a big revelation that their kitchen were still serving Brussels sprout juice with carboard straw in it) that they were NOT joking. The great eradication took less than a month. It was a cold and methodic eradication. The pins were melted. The sprouts were burned down to their last seed. The straws were all recycled to make carboard boxes.
Then, they leaved.
They launched themselves into space.
Without any warnings. Without any explanations.
Leaving behind their deeply confused creators.
|
None
|
coligrim
|
2023-05-08 20:32:40
|
2023-05-08 20:04:19
| 32 | 21 |
jjdsda8
|
jjdo05d
|
13bndh9
|
13bndh9
|
[WP] Aliens use a special digital simulator game to train for wars and combat, often taking months to complete. When humans find this game, they speedrun it
|
As it turns out, almost all sapient species enjoy simulations. Full dive virtual reality allows a being to experience almost anything. From simple social games to esoteric worlds loaded with hyper experiences, it is a well of entertainment with no end. The need for armed forces has slackened, but most polities still employ military personnel on some scale. There has not been an actual war in hundreds of millions of years, but some civilizations from the days of strife are still around, and they want to make sure that the horrors of interstellar strife are never unleashed again.
In the current era, the most doggedly serious military simulators are the Dardanes. Intelligent tripedal aliens with a long history of martial pacifism. They treat their military sims like the real thing, doling out medals and penalties for actions. Their usual campaigns can last for months or even years of subjective time.
They were kind enough to share their software with us humans, as a sort of cultural exchange. Unfortunately for them, they were unaware that humanity also had something of a obsession with games, though for a different sort of play style. Speedrunning, the use of any and all cheats, hacks, and exploits to complete a game as rapidly as possible. The humans involved in realistic military simulations saw an opportunity.
They threw themselves into doing the long winded campaigns as quickly as possible. Memorizing the algorithms that managed the enemy's forces, looking into the code for ways of manipulating the game. At first, they did much worse than the best Dardane teams. But then, after decades of effort, they cut down the old record by 24%. But the humans did not stop there, competing for record times in the Dardan simulations became a cultural fascination.
Whole teams of cooperative speedrunners formed. A succession of smashed records cut down simulations intended to last years down to a few weeks. The margins grew smaller and smaller, oftentimes the best runs being crowned by shaving off a few minutes the previous record.
The cultural pride of the Dardanes was bruised, but they were not finished yet. Working with the humans, they began to produce even more difficult and elaborate campaigns. The competitions marked a turning point in Human-Dardane relations. What began as a minor exchange of culture had become a galactic phenomenon, one which sucked in an increasingly large number of different species. A demonstration that even the most disparate civilizations could still offer each other much.
|
##Learenis
"Jacob, please turn off that game and go to bed," his dad, Blake, said.
"In a few minutes." Jacob jumped through a portal to bomb his enemy's supplies. He sent a message to the chat saying his goodbyes and going to bed. When he lay in bed, he pulled out his phone. Blake was waiting in the door.
"No, Discord or Reddit," he added. Jacob rolled his eyes and put it away. Blake shut the door and went to his room. When he opened the door, he found Sharon with the computer open. He walked beside her.
"Learenis? not you too," he said.
"It's actually pretty fun," she replied. She landed her craft on the planet and unloaded a group of soldiers that she directed. Her goal was a base in the distance where a ship was launching from.
"Why is this game all the rage all of the sudden anyway? It looks like every war game ever," Blake said.
"It's more than that. The creators did a lot of research on conventional war when designing it. Right now, I am working to cut off my foes supplies lines." She took control of one soldier and began killing people. "When I do that, I can launch an invasion of a border planet. I've also dedicated money to research to develop new weapons. Hopefully, I'll win in a few hours."
"This is why I don't play Paradox games," Blake said.
"Other people have made that comparison too. There is a large speedrunning community too. People want to win the war the fastest," Sharon said.
"Wow, you are a hypocrite." Jacob stood in the doorway.
"No, I'm not." Sharon closed the laptop.
"Come on. I saw you," Jacob said.
"Both of you go to bed," Blake said, "Tomorrow, you can play Learenis together."
"Why would I want to play with my mom?" Jacob asked.
"Afraid that I'll beat you?" she asked.
"No, I am in Tier Grount ," Jacob said.
"I am Tier Haenl, and I just got started," Sharon said.
"No way," Jacob said.
"Uh huh." Sharon smirked and nodded her head.
"Prove it. Let's have a quick match."
"You can battle tomorrow," Blake said.
"Come on. It's Friday. Can't I whoop him?" Sharon asked.
"Fine." Blake rolled his eyes. Sharon grabbed her laptop and followed her son.
---
"We were able to use the data from Sharon's laptop to access her work computer," Ghwoe said. He pressed on the screen with his tentacles. "With that, we had location to more food processing centers in her nation."
"Excellent." Yowick rubbed his ten arms together. "It's a shame so many adolescents downloaded the game. We should've collected three times the amount of data."
"Don't worry. We are learning about human temperament and behavior from it. I am surprised such an impulsive species advanced so far," Ghwoe sad.
"Our anthropologists have challenged this notion. There is a concept called speedrunning. Apparently, gamers attempt to complete it as fast as possible," Yowick said.
"Why would they do that?" Ghwoe asked.
"I don't know, but they have assembled a large body of evidence. If this hypothesis is confirmed, that pushes our invasion back further," Yowick said.
"I told Ganusha that I'd be home by Wookea," Ghwoe said.
"You'll have to wait until next Hqefav," Yowick said.
"Stupid humans."
---
r/AstroRideWrites
|
Saint_Of_Silicon
|
AstroRide
|
2025-01-06 02:20:07
|
2025-01-06 01:58:38
| 377 | 118 |
m5mqr6n
|
m5mmu8u
|
1humw4y
|
1humw4y
|
[WP] You are a demon and you have been summoned by a mortal. He announced that he has brought you a sacrifice. Except it's the same teenaged girl that people have tried to sacrifice to you 5 times already
|
Sighing internally, the demon quickly scanned her surroundings. The all too familiar summoning circle, whose intricate pattern had somehow made its way into the human's hands stood beneath her, for the seventh time that century. The man who summoned her looked just as erratic as all those who resort to sacrificing in order to summon higher demons.
Blood was dripping from the silver knife in the hands of the summoner. The teenager, bound to the makeshift altar, was rapidly losing that precious life energy that normally kept humans alive.
"What say you, Great Astaroth? Will you accept my offer? Enter a pact with me and you-" the man's pleas were cut short as his head departed from its position on his neck and got acquainted with his feet. The teenager loomed over his still standing corpse for a moment, intently observing the flesh of his neck before a stream of blood came gushing through. At that moment she pushed the body aside, hoping not to get even bloodier than she was already.
Gracefully stepping away from the mess she had made, the teen smiled. "Long time no see, Asty! Didn't cha miss me?" she said, approaching the hulking demon.
"We've talked about this Elizabeth, you can't just go bewitching these fools into summoning me just because you're bored of your fellow humans..." the demon broke the bounds of the circle and walked towards the nearest fallen marble pillar, then sat down, preparing for another endless conversation with the girl that always made her way back to her.
"It would be far easier if I was allowed to summon you by myself... If only you hadn't forbidden that, I wouldn't be forced to get myself a middleman" The teen remarked as she cheerfully followed Astaroth, leaning against her while sitting on the cold marble.
The demon's efforts of distancing herself from the girl bore no success. "The reason you can't directly summon me isn't to force you to find some other way of doing it, it's to stop you from getting more attached to a demon than you already have. Clearly, it's not the best solution..." she observed the girl for a while, then spoke again "Has immortality finally gotten to you? I figure if getting stabbed by demon summoners is a pastime of yours, it might be time to end it. If you want I can-"
"Immortality doesn't bother me so long as I can annoy you every few decades. Why are you so intent on keeping me away? You could always have told me you hate me, or that you can't suffer my presence, and I would probably have left you alone. But noo, you just made it a challenge for me to get to you, as though I didn't enjoy finding workarounds." she said, rolling her eyes.
The demon flexes her wings in a way Liz finds to imply annoyance "You know I couldn't hate you. The circumstances in which I made you immortal, however, make me doubt that this relationship you think we have is anything but some sort of dependency." she sighs melancholically "You're not in that village anymore. You don't need a demon to save you anymore. The only reason I'd find it reasonable for you to call on me would be to end your immortality. I wouldn't want to force you to live longer than you desire"
The look on the immortal's face was quite startled for a moment, then it relaxed into an amused expression. "So that's it? That's what this was all about? Since when are demons so concerned with the emotional health and well-being of their contractors...?"
Elizabeth stood up and faced the demon. "Back then I truly was a soul as old as this body, I was terrified of everything and maybe I did lean too much on your help. The time we spent together then is something I still treasure, but it's nothing more than the distant past. Right now I don't need you to do anything for me. You are simply the only friend I have that shares my memories from hundreds of years ago. I think it's fair not to want to lose that. "
After a short staring match, the demon relented "Since it is clear that I can't keep you away, I suppose I shall allow you to summon me directly. No need to get more people killed out of sheer stubbornness..." Astaroth had no opportunity to start a lecture as Elizabeth jumped in for a hug, unbothered by the demon's metallic skin.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Had an urge for a happy ending today, as it happens. Not sure what to think about this one. I think I enjoy writing dialogue but I have no clue whether it's any good. So if you did read this painfully long creation of mine I'd appreciate hearing if you had any feedback.
|
(Now, they are really testing my patience...) Demon thought at first, this was filled with anger but, in teenager's eyes it saw the same anger but, mixed into obvious horror. Demon thought for a moment and wicked smile carved on this face soon. Demon finally killed the young lady and dragged her into shadows seemingly of the abyss.
He discussed with the mortals for a while then left giving false promise of desire to be fulfilled. Young lady's body has disappeared from the eyes of the ones who wanted to sacrifice her. Then demon left too but, once the mortals had left the room. It returned and half kneels upon the young woman's body, places the hand on her lower back and stroke upwards up the spine.
Lady gasped for air and woke up as the demon's hand left her body then both stood up. Lady looked around and then saw the demon, taken away by fear like a leaf in a wind. Demon motioned her to calm down, she didn't, so the demon thought.
"Revenge, is a dish..." demon said and waited for her to realize the intent and plan of this.
"Best served cold?" Teenage girl asked continuing the sentence "You just knocked me out and faked my death?" she added another question into the line. Bothered the demon it did not.
"Yes, this is fifth time and I have far more important business in the world under yours, so to say. Now, I have to make an exception as I believe they won't stop trying, a hint I should have noticed earlier but, distracted I was" Demon explains. Young lady no longer submerged into a sea of fear, changed into skepticism in her eyes.
"What about me then?" Young woman asked expecting the worst.
"You should have asked, what about us? Well, the answer is quite... Wicked, young lady" demon said and landed on the floor.
"You are planning on possessing me are you?" young lady asked realizing the intent and quite undoubtedly the first option.
"No. I do not plan to dominate your life. We will together, create your tools for vengeance, they will be the way you will stay connected to me and once we are done, they will cease to be" Demon said. At first horror makes a return but, turned away at the door in lady's mind when she heard the demon's intent. Still skeptical though.
"What about after it?" Young lady asked.
"After it, we will part ways. I intend on returning to my home when my plan has been carried out" Demon declared.
"How do I know this is not an attempt to delude me?" Young woman asked, slowly enticed by the prospect of revenge.
Demon saw this and is internally amused "I would have taken over you on the first time if my plans was something else" Demon said the discussion becoming tiresome. Young lady thought a moment and answered with a nod.
"How do we proceed?" she asks.
"Embrace the thought of revenge, the thrill of getting even. Ignite your anger and bring out your passion" Demon says and aligns this hand to be touched by the young maiden. Young lady hesitates when she raised her hand on the level but, not close of it.
She thought for a moment and looked for what the demon desires from her. Demon senses the lady's desire for revenge first, then next came passion, it would be followed by anger. This excites the demon. Finally, it will begin. Lady places her hand on Demon's own when the anger surfaced to her mind.
Palms still set against each other, lady felt a bridge in her mind, on the other side. She felt the Demon. "Do not be distracted, focus" Demon said, aloud. Lady's mind jinked where the Demon desired it not but, it quickly returned to where it should be. On the task at hand.
Lady's passion now proclaimed itself to the demon as she herself closed her eyes. They departed their palms from one and another, lady moving on instinct than command and Demon knew what is happening. Air between the two started to warp but, not maneuver it did. For a while, there was almost complete stillness.
Air started to compact between the two and take shape. Something from both, the demon and lady started to will the shape a form. It is... The lady herself standing opposite of the real one. The real, opened her eyes and looked at the other self. At first, she had questions but, as they approached each other.
Teenage girl understood it and the other her, understood her. It is her desire for strife, the disguise most cunning, declaration of her passion and the form of her anger to get revenge. The other her disappeared and the real young woman blinked few times. She started to change and shook violently a bit. She took a deep breath and took her other form, she just saw.
The Demon chuckled, what most wonderful piece of vengeance and so, the plan is set on motion. The lady finally calms down and looks around then at herself. "Woe" she said at awe as the Demon approached her. She quickly hugs the Demon for a moment which did catch the Demon off guard but, laughed it off.
"First, you must learn" Demon said and the girl nodded firmly and smiled warmly.
"You are the wicked godfather, one could ask for" she said and Demon interrupted by statement then started to laugh in more honest manner.
"Ah, you have no idea" Demon said when it gathered itself back together from the laughter and moved to begin the lessons.
|
Blue_Shirt_Hornet
|
Aftel43
|
2023-03-10 21:11:23
|
2023-03-10 18:44:22
| 359 | 11 |
jbq3q9o
|
jbph7lw
|
11nu4j6
|
11nu4j6
|
[WP] On your 18th birthday, you casted your first spell. The next day, a group of fine men and women came to your house, wanting to induct you into the magical community. “Oh, so are there any big dangers or schools I need to attend to?” “Err, no. It’s just the five of us.”
|
The shell shattered around me, and I stared and watched silently as a figure entered. Blazing light, most people would probably assume she was some form of angel. An ethereal, divine being that could do no wrong. And... well, two of the three things were true. The "do no wrong" bit was incorrect, but they wouldn't know about that.
Nope. That was saved for her older brother. Well... older sibling. I didn't really have a form I preferred, unlike her. Still, it was simpler to be her older brother, especially for those who worshipped us, so that's how I was usually called.
"Atona!" I called out. "What a pleasure. It's been a relaxing millennia or so for me. How have you been?"
"Fine," she said bluntly. I chuckled.
"I can tell when you're lying, Atona. You're much worse at that then I am." Atona shifted slightly, glancing away. "Come on, you goofball. I'm not mad. If you'd sealed away my powers when you trapped me here, that would be a different issue. But I've had a millennia to simply practice and experiment, while you've... what have you been doing, anyway?"
"Helping heroes go on their journeys. Or... well, trying to, as of late."
"Trying?" I raised an eyebrow, though I was unable to hide my smile. I knew what that meant. "Did you make my seals too strong?"
"..."
"Come on, Atona." I stood up, raising my form so we were eye-level. "I'm your older brother. You can tell me anything."
"I... messed up. I shouldn't have sealed you away." I tilted my head.
"Because?" I was waiting for specific words.
"You..." Atona huffed. "You were right. I'm sorry."
"I accept your apology." I stretched. "So, let me guess. The heroes have run out of things to fight, things to do? Your utopia has grown, in a word... boring?"
"...Yeah."
"I understand. The problem with sealing away the darkness in such a permeant manner is that... well, I've created all the creatures your heroes so love to fight. Whether it's goblins, trolls, skeletons... Without me to guide and support them, we both lose out on entertainment."
"What entertainment is there in having human villages be destroyed by roving bands of orcs!?" There was her somewhat quick-tempered nature again. I merely raised an eyebrow.
"What entertainment is there in having orc villages be destroyed by roving bands of adventurers?" Atona paused. "I care for my creations just as you do yours. But we both want a good story out of whatever comes of it. What's the point of a story with no darkness, no tragedy?"
"..."
"Well?"
"...You're right. I guess. The past few years have proved as much." I was silent, before metaphorically brightening up.
"Here. I have an idea."
"What?"
"Well... we're two sides of the same coin. I'm tails, you're heads. Dark and light. Why not we make something... for when the coin lands on it's side?"
|
"Well hello my dear sister Whitey, to what I owe you the pleasure of this visit?"
"Stop with your pleasantries my brother Blackie, you know what I want. Let's go back to Gaea. Gaea needs you."
Blackie smiled and said, "oh no, I can't, I am being banished here. Did you forget? You and your chosen heroes banished me here 2 years 7 months, 20 days, 23 hours and 45 seconds ago. I am enjoying my stay in this void, this darkness, it feels like home now. No obligation, no work, I am living my life to the fullest here"
Whitey started stomping her feet, "NO, you need to work now, the Gaea is in state of dying right now."
Blackie tilted his head, "none of my business, I am happy here"
Whitey then fell on her knees, "I am sorry, it is my fault, please help me, I begged you. Please at least help Gaea."
Blackie then said "you finally understand why we are brother and sister, inseparable? Yes I am scary, I am the darkness, the cold night, the nightmares, the bad. But without darkness, light will overpower everything. No one can sleep, no plants can produce oxygen, every life on Gaea will be on overdrive from staying awake. I am surprised it took you this long to ask for my help."
Whitey with her sulked and said, "so you know about it and didn't tell me about it. It happened 1 year after you got sealed. I tried to put it under control but the world fell into instanity now. People killed each other since they saw each other every second, nothing stopped their mind from overthinking bad scenarios, no dream that sooth their soul, even oxygen level went down so drastic because trees don't produce oxygen anymore, many creatures went extinct."
Blackie then laughed, "think before you act my sister, do you think your mere chosen heroes can defeat a God? I let myself being sealed so I can get some vacation"
Whitey then said, "ok, no more chit chat, let's bring balance to Gaea."
Blackie then said, "well, for payment, you can give me souls of your heroes."
Whitey got shocked and asked, "you want my best pets? It took me tens of years to raise them!"
Blackie said, "well I need some toys too, kinda itchy to torture some high quality toys."
Whitey then gruntled and said, "ok fine then."
|
ArbitraryChaos13
|
tnth89
|
2023-04-14 12:10:12
|
2023-04-14 10:25:12
| 34 | 12 |
jg7vvhz
| null |
12l61xo
|
12l61xo
|
[WP] On your 18th birthday, you casted your first spell. The next day, a group of fine men and women came to your house, wanting to induct you into the magical community. “Oh, so are there any big dangers or schools I need to attend to?” “Err, no. It’s just the five of us.”
|
The void.
Many fear it. Even the gods. In reality, it's pretty nice when you are used to it. it's not too cold. Not too warm either. No up, no down, no left, no right. Perfect for the nap I longed for for the past... what ? Thousands years ?
okay, yeah, I know, technically I was sealed in it by my idiot divine sister and her dumb "chosen ones of the light" but I don't care. If I can escape her "you are the god of darkness ! you need to be stopped !" at the yearly divine meeting I'm fine with it.
I wonder how many years passed since they sealed me ? I wonder if the mortals forgot me or not ?
Meh.
Don't know, don't care.
And I should stop thinking of that before I jinx...
\-Brother of mine ! I need your help ! please I can't handle it anymore...
... myslef. sh\*t.
Seems like I'm back. And judging by the abundance of light and the fact that the divine idiot that is my sister is clinging to my legs crying, she's the culprit.
I take a moment to take a look at her while she is mumbling and crying for my help. Dark circles under her eyes, messy hair, even her skin color seems a little dull... seems like she worked a little bit too much in the past years. I can't help but grinning at her look.
\-Sis, what did i told you just before you sealed me ? Do you remember it ? The speech about the "balance" thing ?
she looked up at me, her eyes swollen with tears.
\-...yes ?
\-Did you even paid attention ?
\-...
\-Okay. Correct me if i'm wrong. You sealed me, you were super happy, then dad scolled you for throwing away the fundamental light/dark balance of the universe he created and forced you to do my parts of the job. Job that you can't handle anymore. And that's why you brought me back
\-...\*mumble\*
\-sorry ?
\-... maybe ?
\-So. Tell me sis, why should I accept ? I was doing great in the void ! I even think to get back to it for a little bit more time actually. So you will have more time to think about what you did back then, miss "i will save mortals from you".
her eyes start to swell again with tears. shit. I think I might have taken this a little too far. Wait... is... is she pouting ?
\-you big meanie.
\-what ?
\-I said you big meanie ! You are always like this ! You know what, I was wrong to call you back ! I don't need your help ! And if one day it's the end of the universe because I screwed up, it will be your fault because you didn't help you dear sister !
\-come on don't take it like that... I'm willing to take back my place at one condition.
\-Really ?
\-I want everyone, even the mortals, to know that YOU srewed up and that YOU released me because YOU needed my help. Deal ?
\-... deal.
It went better than I expected. Well, off to work then ! Don't know why, but I have the feelings that the next few centuries will be very fun...
|
"Well hello my dear sister Whitey, to what I owe you the pleasure of this visit?"
"Stop with your pleasantries my brother Blackie, you know what I want. Let's go back to Gaea. Gaea needs you."
Blackie smiled and said, "oh no, I can't, I am being banished here. Did you forget? You and your chosen heroes banished me here 2 years 7 months, 20 days, 23 hours and 45 seconds ago. I am enjoying my stay in this void, this darkness, it feels like home now. No obligation, no work, I am living my life to the fullest here"
Whitey started stomping her feet, "NO, you need to work now, the Gaea is in state of dying right now."
Blackie tilted his head, "none of my business, I am happy here"
Whitey then fell on her knees, "I am sorry, it is my fault, please help me, I begged you. Please at least help Gaea."
Blackie then said "you finally understand why we are brother and sister, inseparable? Yes I am scary, I am the darkness, the cold night, the nightmares, the bad. But without darkness, light will overpower everything. No one can sleep, no plants can produce oxygen, every life on Gaea will be on overdrive from staying awake. I am surprised it took you this long to ask for my help."
Whitey with her sulked and said, "so you know about it and didn't tell me about it. It happened 1 year after you got sealed. I tried to put it under control but the world fell into instanity now. People killed each other since they saw each other every second, nothing stopped their mind from overthinking bad scenarios, no dream that sooth their soul, even oxygen level went down so drastic because trees don't produce oxygen anymore, many creatures went extinct."
Blackie then laughed, "think before you act my sister, do you think your mere chosen heroes can defeat a God? I let myself being sealed so I can get some vacation"
Whitey then said, "ok, no more chit chat, let's bring balance to Gaea."
Blackie then said, "well, for payment, you can give me souls of your heroes."
Whitey got shocked and asked, "you want my best pets? It took me tens of years to raise them!"
Blackie said, "well I need some toys too, kinda itchy to torture some high quality toys."
Whitey then gruntled and said, "ok fine then."
|
coligrim
|
tnth89
|
2023-04-14 10:29:12
|
2023-04-14 10:25:12
| 40 | 12 |
jg7m5le
| null |
12l61xo
|
12l61xo
|
[WP] All major fast food chains were created for eldritch gods to harvest the souls of gluttonous mortals. The king of the burger, the red haired clown, the coffee mermaid, s'ub'ay...As people move on to healthier diets, the hunger of the gods grows.
|
At first, the Gods had deigned to bend their servants to match the wants of mortal men, offering the pasture foods they wanted. It was a debasement of their values, but as long as the essence flowed, who cared about petty mortal-made ideals like values?
In their infinite gluttonous wisdom, the Gods set their powers upon these pasture foods, giving them the veneer of nature but the blood and boils of the fryer. Calories spilled between the leaves with dressing and croutons substituting for bread and condiments.
Once again, for a short while, things were good. Gods were great.
The puny mortals continued to seek their salvation from the will of the Gods, for it is man's folly to pursue freedom from even the most gilded cages. Errant faiths opened up in vehicles, mortals claiming to speak the gospel of speed but not paying the tithe to their lords. These false religions snatched souls from the maws of the Great Ones, keeping them on this mortal coil far longer than they should have been.
As mortals stopped paying due to the Gods, the great ones hungered. Their teeth gnashed, and spittle fell from the heavens like rain. They were denied their due, and the existence of those below them would not be tolerated if they could not satisfy.
Of course, there was no true way of satisfying the Gods, but they could be satiated for a time. That was the duty of Charlotte, Daughter of the Siren, Sister of Sugar and Mother of Macchiato.
Charlotte always kept her head low to blend in with the mortals around her. They did not understand their purpose when they donned the uniform of the Siren, but she did. She hadn't been hired for a job but had joined the Holy Church. She would smile at the lambs wandering into her stores, using saccharine expressions to lead them toward extra syrup and substituted lemonade.
It was as Charlotte dedicated a mortal's name to the Sirens will by inscribing it upon a sigiled cup that she witnessed the arrival of a new regional manager. Cold followed the woman into the room as she surveyed the store.
Charlotte understood that this was not a woman of the Siren; she was a mortal middle manager, a testament to mediocrity stapled to the holy faith as mortals gasped for control.
The woman came to the front of the line and stood mere feet from Charlotte. Despite her hatred, the ever faithful's smile dripped with syrup, this middle manager might have been a nobody, but you didn't need to be someone to be food.
"Hi there, I'm the new regional manager, Erika. I just wanted to introduce myself," the woman held out a hand, offering it to Charlotte.
Charlotte accepted for the Siren worked from the shadows. She couldn't expose that she understood the truth before the unenlightened. "Nice to meet you," Charlotte answered, her voice bubbling like sticky soda, "would you like me to get something started for you?"
"That would be lovely," Erika answered, "could I get a Honey Citrus Mint Tea?"
Charlotte was taken aback but didn't show it to the fodder around her. "Perfect," Charlotte answered, "Venti?" that was the holiest of teas; perhaps she'd misread this woman.
"Just a Grande," Erika corrected. Charlotte turned away before she frowned at the syrup-sticky tile floors. That said, this drink was still holy in the eyes of the Siren and- "Could you hold the honey flavouring?" Erika added, "use natural honey instead."
"Blasphemer," Charlotte spat to herself as she watched her Church fall further into disrepair. She couldn't see the realm of the gods, but her faith told her that the Siren's hand hovered ever closer to Earth's sky, threatening to squash a petulant marble from defiant existence.
She would keep fighting the good fight, paying her tithe to the Gods to buy the blind around her a few more sacred minutes. It was her duty.
|
Four men standing inside a massive temple. walls are maybe 20 feet tall and pitch black . The stone floor is strongly warm. Almost like a living thing. There is a small ancient statue in the middle of the temple hall. It looks tiny compared to the temple itself. Out of the place maybe. There are runic writings all over the statue. None of the men have the courage to get closer to the statue.
All of them are in black suits. All in their fifties. One of them, a tall lean man with glasses, is visibly shaking. They avoid eye contact. The hall is dead silent.
Suddenly a child appears in front of them next to the statue.
She has silver hair and deep blue eyes. She can't be more than ten. Yet somehow she looks almost as old as the temple itself.
-you know why are you here don't you?
She asked with a musical yet assertive voice.
-yes we do.
Answers one of the guys. An overweight man with a moustache popular in 30s. And small red eyes. Almost like an infection.
-your numbers are too low. He is not happy. You know what happens when he is not happy?
Girl asked. None dared to answer. The lean tall man was about to cry.
-He knows we are doing our best milady right? Those stupid peasants refusing our food. They say it is "unhealthy".
Answered the fat man. Another man continued:
-Even cigarette sales are diving. Those health advocates are all over the place.
-Silence!
Girl shouted. He would not have your petty excuses. Find a solution or face the consequences!
-this can't be happening.
Tall man murmured.
Fat man almost jumped. Like he just discovered something important.
-I know milady. I know a solution. We need to fight them with their own weapon.
-go on
-this miserable shit here is coca-colas CEO (he pointed to tall guy). We can do a diet coke! It is that same coke with artificial sugars which can cause "a little" cancer in long term. But who cares? No-sugar is the way to go. We hire fitness expert to advertise it. No more diabetes, no more fat shaming. Everyone will be happy!
Other men were clearly getting excited.
Another man suggested:
-fat is bad!
-what?
Fat man asked.
-we run studies about how bad cholesterol is. This will take the heat off us.
Girl noded:
-goos thinking.
A man who was silent so far, A bearded man with gray hair and bright eyes, asked:
-but we do sell the fat! What do you think it is in burgers and chicken fries?
-We can do a vegan Mac. Fat guy was thinking out loud. Yes. That's it. We use vegans to promote veggie burgers. We can make it with leftovers and rotten veggies. It will taste like shit. Which is good as they will miss the real thing even more.
Girl nods:
-goos. I think he will be happy. Just make sure put enough toxin in them. He craves sacrifices. Contact Monsanto, use GMOs. Now begone. He needs results not your presence. And don't come back empty handed.
Fat man was still drowning in thoughs:
-maybe gluten free water?
Begone!! She command. You are making no sense!
They began to leave.
As they were fading into the darkness fat man whispered, oh milady. You have no idea how much "none sense" you can sell to those idiots.
|
Writteninsanity
|
Successful_Craft3076
|
2023-02-20 16:22:11
|
2023-02-20 14:16:09
| 130 | 15 |
j9ax950
|
j9afpzq
|
1174tod
|
1174tod
|
[WP] Write a futuristic story taking place in 2017 as told from the perspective of someone from the 60s
|
"You can see them too?" Candace said, with a slight gasp.
Gary blinked. That was a new one. Much more common were excuses like "But they're only staying for a few days!" -- even though Gary didn't bother enforcing a lease's occupancy rules unless his tenant had already had guests staying for more than two weeks.
"You haven't exactly been subtle about it Cand--" he began, but the short blonde woman brought him up short by grabbing his hand.
"Come inside!" she said, excitedly, tugging his arm. He frowned, but allowed himself to be led forward. He'd seen so many of her guests coming and going that he was getting worried about the condition of her unit, and now was as good a time as any to see what the damage was.
The apartment actually didn't too bad, all things considered. That didn't change the fact that she was violating her lease by having all these guests. One of which, he noticed, was standing at the kitchen counter, chopping something with a knife. The woman looked a lot like Candace -- a sister, he guessed.
"Candace, you know the policy on people staying here if they're not on the lease--" he began, but she cut him off again, shaking her head vigorously.
"Gary, I don't have any guests!" she said, excitedly, sounding almost manic. She jerked a thumb at the other woman. "She does!"
He pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed. Was she...*on* something? "Look, your name is on the lease -- that means that legally you're the only one allowed to stay here, and you're responsible for keeping it that way!"
"Tell her to go, then." Candace said, with a shrug.
He scowled. Now she was just being childish. Nonetheless, he turned to address her sister. "Ma'am, I don't know what Candace has told you, but she can't have people staying here long term. You and whoever else you brought with you need to go."
The woman just kept chopping.
Candace smirked. "Not so easy, huh? Here, let me try to get her attention for you."
Candace walked behind the counter and over to the stove, where she picked up a frying pan. Before Gary could stop her, she swung it at the other woman's head.
He started to shout at her to stop, but his cry died on his lips as the pan passed right through Candace's sister, then did so several more times as Candace fanned it through the air where the woman stood.
"W-what the..." he stammered, eyes bulging as Candace thoroughly demonstrated the immateriality of her houseguest.
She tested the pan on her shoulder. "See?"
Gary's shuddered, staring at the apparition, "H-how is that...how are you doing that?"
She laughed, incredulously . "I'm not doing anything! Uo until five minutes ago, I thought I was going insane."
"So...so ghosts are real." he said, with an air of resignation. He already had enough on his plate without adding ghosts into it. Oddly, he found himself wondering if this was a maintenance issue as per Candace lease -- did *he* have to hire ghostbusters, or was it her responsibility?
"I thought that too, at first. But nah, I don't think so." she mused, setting down the pan, and gesturing to the incorporeal woman. "For one thing, I don't have any sisters, dead or otherwise, and my mom and grandma are both alive."
"Maybe...maybe like your great grandmother, or something? Somebody that, you know, died young?" he offered, uneasily.
"Hm...maybe, but in a pair of jeans and a tank top, though?" she pointed out. "That's not how women dressed, way back when. I don't understand how, but I think she looks like me because she *is* me, like some kind of...I dunno, *other* me."
Gary hesitantly stepped closer, eyeing the apparition cautiously. Now that he was close, he could see she was chopping at nothing.
"So this...*other* Candace, she can't see or hear us?"
"Nope. None of them can, as far as I can tell." she said.
They both jumped as the woman suddenly looked up at them, and Candace let out a startled squeak. But the woman seemed to be looking past them. She set down the knife, and the utensil vanished, as she walked around the counter towards the door.
"Crap," Candace breathed, letting out a sigh, as they watched her walk past, and open the door. But behind the door was *another* door, which remained close, and the door she opened vanished as she removed her hand from the knob. "Always scares the bejeezus outta me when they do that."
"Why are there *two doors?"* Gary groaned. This was getting worse by the minute.
"One for us, one for them, maybe?" Candace said. "I think we can only see ghost-stuff when there's a ghost touching it."
"I thought you said they weren't ghosts?" Gary pointed.
"I meant not like *dead-people* ghosts." she said, uncertainly. "But they're people who you can see but aren't really there, so it still fits, more or less."
Gary watched the Other-Candace mutely talking to the closed door, and frowned, curiously.
"Who's she talking to?"
"Another ghost, I'd assume. We can't see them because the door -- the real door -- is in the way, I guess." Candace replied.
Cautiously, Gary stepped forward, and reaching past Other-Candace, he opened the apartment door.
Gary froze, his eyes widening as he saw the apparition she was speaking to. A tired-looking woman with auburn hair, dressed in a hooded sweatshirt and jeans, was talking animatedly to Other-Candace, though he of course couldn't hear what she was saying.
Candace frowned. "Huh. I haven't seen her before. Not one of other-me"s guests. I wonder who she is?"
"That's...that's my wife." Gary replied, hoarsely. "She died last year."
|
Checking the footage, I could see people going in and out of the tenants home, the way they moved was odd. There was no motion to imply that they opened or closed the front door as they were entering my tenants home. The camera angle doesn’t capture the front of the door, only the hallway, it seemed that they just walked right through. Though every time I’ve visited my tenant to remind him of rent he’s never as much as budged the door an inch to answer me.
Not one to leave the apartment either, piles of food outside, Panda Express, McDonalds, empty pizza boxes with the crusts still in them. Who leaves the crust of the pizza anyway? Pretty much a jobless lowlife for all I know. Probably a junkie who smokes up the place with the ol’ devils lettuce with a buddy or two.
“Mr. Piers, your rent is due, you’re three months late. Not to mention you’ve not paid rent for the last three months either. Do you want me to bring a lawyer? I’ve got plenty of time to spare and I can file your eviction quicker than you can order another Panda Express, and so God help me if you don’t clean up your trash on your front door, I’m really going to get pissed.”
I kicked away some boxes to make way to his door and knocked on it playfully, akin to a child desperately trying to get his parents attention. I didn’t even need the money, I just liked messing with the guy.
“Do you hear me? We need to talk right now.”
‘Piss off, get a life you gold sucking bitch. I ain’t got time for you.’
I could hear what sounded like the flicking of a steel lighter on the other side of the door. I knew it. A junkie.
“Excuse me?” I jingled the “master keys” in front of his door. Little does he know those were just my car keys and the jingling noise was from a cute little keychain I attached to it.
“Want me to come in there myself and drag your ass out?” I pretended to insert the “master key” into his lock while jiggling the knob.
‘Fine fine, fuck outta here Robert, the fuck do you want?’ He nudged open the door an inch hitting it on the frame, the door chain jangling loudly from the impact, then looked me in the eye.
“Didn’t you hear what I said earlier, the rent dumbass. Also, I can see from the camera footage that you’ve got people going in and out of your place. That’s fine for visitation hours but I’m pretty sure I don’t see them leave sometimes. That is absolutely not allowed under any circumstances, period.”
‘Shit, you can see them too?’
“Yeah I can see them. The other tenants can see them. My security guys can see them. What does that matter. The fact they show up on the camera is proof enough that you’re full of shit.” I smirked cheekily, Mr. Piers here looks like he was about to shit bricks.
‘Fuck. I suggest you get the fuck outta here Robert. I’m serious Robert. S-E-R-I-O-S.’
“That’s now how you spell serious but okay. And no, I don’t think I will.” I decided to humour him. At this point I was just taking the piss, he’s probably high as a kite anyway, this was fun.
‘Come in.’ He sounded defeated, probably from me annoying the hell out of the guy. He unhooked the door chain and invited me in.
If the outside of his home was a mess, the inside was beyond a mess. Weird drawings and symbols strewn across the walls on sheets of paper that looked like they were printed in the 1800s. At the centre of the living room was a weird circle drawn in…dried blood? It was surrounded by wax candles of varying sizes.
“What the hell did you do to my unit Piers?!”
‘Shhh shhh, shut the fuck up. I’ll show you. Take out your phone and look at the camera footage again, slowly this time.’
“What about it?”
‘Notice how there aren’t any shadows on the people walking in?’ I reviewed the footage, increased the brightness, and still couldn’t see what he wanted me to see.
“It’s in 480p, I can’t even make out a man from a woman in this pixelated crap, your point?”
He sighed, tugged my hand and dragged me closer to his summoning circle and began chanting in a language I don’t understand.
‘Now place your hand in front of you.’
An invisible force stopped my hand, slowly, something materialised and a visage of what looked like a human appeared.
“Holy shit. What the fuck?!” I recoiled backwards.
‘These are my uhh…servants. They uh…do stuff for me, keeps food on the table. They were not meant to be seen, seems I got sloppy, either that or a prick like you got a priest to live in the compound now. So…you now know my secret, I’m going to have to ask you to forget what you saw and delete all the footage. Otherwise, I’ll have to…’ He made a clicking sound while motioning his hand like a pair of scissors.
The visage followed and made an arcing slice with its…appendages.
“S-s-sure, fine. Whatever.” I stumbled backwards and ran for the door. Behind me I could hear him loudly exclaiming.
‘Don’t even bother coming next time, dickhead. And while you’re at it, turn the fucking security cams off.’
|
SilasCrane
|
SentientFlipPhone
|
2023-02-10 19:55:06
|
2023-02-10 17:45:58
| 88 | 10 | null |
j807wp1
|
10yrulf
|
10yrulf
|
[WP] On the day of your 18th birthday, you pressed a button that gives you $10,000 for every day left in your life. You just checked your bank account: $1,000,000,043.
|
I'd been feeling really down due to my recent diagnosis of ALS. No point in going to university now. No money. No point getting a girlfriend or marriage when it was doomed before it started. No point to life.
I'd spent the morning just staring at the wall.
And then a mysterious man showed up at my door and said if I'd sacrifice my life and press this button, I could leave my family $10,000 for every day left in my life. Well, what did I have to lose? A life of progressive weakness and eventual suffocating death?
I'd pressed the button assuming that I had about 2-5 years left. $10 million+ would help my family and I wouldn't be a burden to them.
So I pressed the damned button.
And the alert came up on my phones banking app.
Rounding to a billion, divide by 10,000, divide by 365, and that's about 273 years.
Looks like in the next few years, they'll not only cure ALS, but make strides toward immortality.
Fuck Me. Fuck My Life. Still, at least my family will never have to worry about anything ever again.
.
.
.
My phone started beeping. A lot. Twitter/X and Facebook were exploding.
The mysterious man had made the offer to every adult in the world. And hundreds of millions had taken up the offer. Some had made quadrillions. Some had even hit the limit on banks computers.
Yesterday $1billion was a lot. Tomorrow it'll be worthless.
Fuck Everyones Lives.
|
I looked at the numbers in horror. There had to be a mistake.
I tried to call my financial advisor - to no avail. I tried to call my family, but didn't get any more success. Friends, colleagues, rivals, my fingers frantically pressed the buttons as I helplessly listened to all the people in my life saying the same thing over and over again.
I thought I was going to have a panic attack, but then it got worse, when I realised I couldn't. I ran away in the street. All around me, people were just going about their business, as if nobody even noticed I was there. I cried and screamed and begged, but to no avail.
I looked at my phone again. The numbers were flashing, taunting me. There was no mistake.
I died over two years ago.
|
RandeKnight
|
IronBatSpiderHulk
|
2024-09-25 20:35:53
|
2024-09-25 19:51:41
| 447 | 77 |
lowxq6d
|
lowp2lx
|
1fpc2wu
|
1fpc2wu
|
[WP]A god wronged you so greatly that you began to target those he blessed in revenge. And strangely enough, all those he blessed happened to be kings. Years later, you became known as the 'Kingslayer'. Now, that god's blessing is no different from a curse.
|
Did you know gods can die? They die when people stop believing in them. They die when someone puts in the effort to make people hate them. I think I've been very successful.
It all started forty years ago, the day I was born. The gods decided that my brother was to be the chosen one. He was a failure in every definition of the word, so his duties laid upon me. Of course, he still got the recognition because "The gods can't be wrong." That was not what started the slaughter.
I was 12 when I killed the demon lord. He was 27. The rest of my childhood was being kept in the basement of an abbey so that my existence could be ignored and erased. I was only released when my brother tripped down a flight of stairs and died by choking on his own vomit. They did want to say I killed him, but that would require proving that the gods were wrong to choose him.
All of them apologized to me for the mistakes. For their sins. All but one. The god of royalty. The god of order. That one remained spiteful and will die holding onto that spite if I have anything to say about it. I lived my life normally. Peacefully. Away from them. I got a wife. I had kids. We lived. We loved. We were happy.
Well, until Papa heard about a small family of heretics, hm? That old king rounded them up. My family. Put them to the sword. I was told that I should be grateful that I was allowed to live a godless life, but they were not.
I asked who ordered it. I was calm. Rational. The god of order wanted to make sure I knew my place. That I should remain firmly down there where I belong. His priests are his mouthpiece. The god blessed the king. It was a beautiful ceremony.
But Papa died only a few days later, didn't he? So did your brother a few days after his blessing ceremony. How unfortunate. Then others began to die. Other kingdoms suffered unfortunate accidents or mysterious deaths of their rulers. The god of order scrambled to keep the people quelled.
In truth, you are probably his last hope. If you survive, then he will look very good. The first queen he ever blessed. . .
Truly, you don't deserve to die. You aren't that old. Just nine. You look just like my daughter, too. Probably picked you on purpose. Hoped I would be too weak. Maybe I would show mercy. I won't.
But, hey. Look at the bright side. You're gonna get to see your family again after you lose the strength to scream.
|
Long time ago, there were two forces engaged in battle. Most people think of Order vs Chaos, or Life vs Death... One God and one Goddess.
The Goddess won, casting her adversary out of Creation, to linger in the Void of Chaos. People thought that she was the one to embody everything good in Creation, Life, Order...
But roles change, and perceptions mutate. And I say this, for I am the one she wronged the worst...
The God returned, he crawled out of the Chaotic Maelstrom. Back to Creation... Back to us... A hero was needed, or rather, a heroine. She was so beautiful, much like her patroness. The problem came afterwards... As the very Goddess nullified the sacred vows of marriage under her name.
Just on a whim.
With a simple word, I lost my wife... To HIM...
The Crown prince... A pampered fool whose stupidity was dragging our kingdom to the mud. But, He was a pampered and blessed fool by the very Goddess.
Why?
And so, I sought for my revenge. One Harvest Festival... The only day those fools leave the security of their fortifications to mingle, as they say, with the plebeians. A simple dose of Belladonna in the feast, and most of the guards and villagers would be disabled... while I make my move.
She was gorgeous much like her patron. It pained me to slit her throat... But the idea of the horror he would feel cushioned my regret.
And so, when I pressed the knife on his neck, I simply pronounced "Send my regards to your Goddess..."
And I kept doing this... For a complete decade. Kingslayer, now they call me...
I don't care how much it will take me, or how many I must end. The Goddess worship will end, and her gifts be spat like the curses they are...
|
The_Saint_Hallow
|
Aljhaqu
|
2025-01-08 18:09:29
|
2025-01-08 15:42:07
| 343 | 217 |
m63429q
|
m62ah8e
|
1hwlkmy
|
1hwlkmy
|
[WP] "If you see a writhing mass of polygons that attempts to commune or show signs of sentience. Stop what you're doing and run away. Any display of sentience is a coincidence. Talk back and you're gone. Not dead, but gone."
|
I meet up with some other chasers in Oklahoma, at the sticky back table of someone's bar. We arranged the meeting on Telegram, but they'll only trade actual data in person. They've got some geotagged photos, some second-hand rumors in haphazard Excel sheets or scrawled in spiral notebooks. I add it all to my model, rotate my laptop to show them the outputs. Predictions for where the polygons might appear.
"How come you know so much about the angels anyway?" one of them asks, an older woman with dishwater hair and a lung-cancer cough. Her friend elbows her in the ribs. She's heard how come.
When they leave, I spin up another burner cloud account and run the real model. And then I'm on the road too.
I spent some time at the megachurch in Texas that first made people call them angels. I wanted them to be God's judgment, like the pastor said. "The scientists say that if you talk to the angels, you'll be gone," he preached. "But nobody is gone. God remembers!"
I wanted that to be true too. I know there are so many people I don't remember. *Can't* remember, according to the math. When the angels take someone, they take them all -- every memory, every effect on the world. The acausal avengers of entropy.
Eventually, the church in Texas figured out who I was. Three of the elders wanted me dead, one wanted to anoint me, and the fifth tipped me off before the praise band drummer threw a bomb in my trailer window.
I don't know who I lost to the polygons. But I'm sure of this -- I wasn't always so lonely.
I wonder if I had a sister who warned me not to go work for the government. I wonder if I told her I'd just be doing math, not building weapons. I wonder if she was smart enough to know that could be worse.
The polygons are only pseudo-random. They follow predictable patterns, just not nice causal ones most people learned in grad school. There must have been more people who understood the math. If I still remember it, that means whoever taught me is alive, or at least the regular kind of dead. Why can't I remember them?
I work through the math again and again in my tent in the Tennessee hills. I want to make sure this will work. I want there to be another way. I want someone to show up and stop me, and eventually I just want to be warm.
I didn't make the polygons, the angels, but I helped bring them to our world. If they take me -- when they take me -- they'll undo my mistake.
I must have fallen asleep, because I wake up to a voice calling my name. It's my sister's voice, it's my wife who worked alongside me at Livermore, it's the voice of our son. "We're sorry," they call to me. "We can't help what we are. Please don't look at us! Please don't try and speak to us, we love you, save yourself, run!"
Tears fill my eyes, stinging in the cold air, and I step out of my tent.
|
He opened his eyes.
“Gone?”
“Gone.”
“Gone… Gone.. Gone, Gone Gone GONE GONE GONE-“
A man twisted a knob, turning the audio off, but through the screen he could still see the patient screaming, his mouth stretched painfully wide as he uttered that word - the only word.
Gone.
“For Christ’s sake, why do they always send me the loonies,” he muttered.
The man sat back in his chair, the only light in the room coming from the surveillance system in front of him. He watched quietly as a figure bounced his fat body off the cushioned white walls, his mouth flapping soundlessly in a poor imitation of a silent film.
Piss conditions for an equally piss job, the man thought. Countless hours spent studying to get into the highest ranked schools, years spent busting his ass, and.. for what?
To sit as a glorified nanny for people who, if left alone, would rot in a pile of their own shit, unable to clothe, wash, and even feed their own bodies?
“Screw it all..”
The man looked away from the screen and glanced at the dark room around him. To say it was bare would be an understatement - there was quite literally nothing. No books or TV, no desk lamp, no windows - nothing.
Aside from the screen.
“Fuck. How could I end up here?”
The man stood up.
He had had everything, a beautiful family, a sturdy body, and wealth built from the ground up. He wasn’t a person meant for a job like this. A job where you were stuck away in a corner and left to decay. For gods sake, he was meant for something MORE.
But. He was here.
The man sat back down, suddenly tired. He looked at the screen. The figure had also stopped moving and sat slouched, as if defeated. And for a moment, for some reason, he looked up toward the camera.
As if he knew that he was being watched. As if he knew that the camera captured his pathetic image into pixelated squares that made up the triangular curve of his nose or the rectangular set of his jaw, that stitched the very lines of his existence with sharp and yet soft angles.
And that somewhere, someone was forced to watch him. Not help, nor move, but watch. Only watch.
The man shook his head. He was tired, and still had work to do. The light faded, and he went to sleep.
|
prejackpot
|
bassheroe
|
2024-09-24 15:08:13
|
2024-09-24 08:02:18
| 68 | 22 |
lop8vck
|
lonqiot
|
1fo4b7m
|
1fo4b7m
|
[WP] A girl shows up in your house claiming to be your daughter and telling you that she’s glad your both okay with tears in her eyes. When you tell her that you and your partner don’t have any children, her face goes pale
|
“Mom, dad. I missed you so much. I’m ok. I promise.” She said, tearfully hugging my shirt. I didn’t know what to say, instinctively patting the girl on the head, looking for any parents. Why was she out so late?
“Who is it, sweetie?” Hayley, my wife, called out. She stood with a bowl of popcorn, ready for our Friday movie night, not expecting to see me in this position. She hurried over to my side, crouching before the girl.
“I’m not sure. I think she’s lost her parent’s.”
“Oh, the poor thing. Bring her inside. We can contact the police. They should be able to help her.” Hayley ushered us inside, the girl refusing to leave my shirt. I gave her a few more pats, unsure what else to do. My father used to stroke my hair to calm me down and, at this moment, that’s all I could think of doing. When I sat down, she let go, looking up at me.
“I’m so glad you two are ok. I thought I lost you.” She smiled, wiping her tears away before hugging me again. I looked at Hayley, shrugging my shoulders.
“I’m sorry. You have the wrong house. We don’t have any children. Unless you’re hiding a secret from me, honey.” I teased, secretly hoping Hayley was.
“You think I could hide a secret like that?” She laughed, getting out her phone. The girl went pale, staring at the two of us. She examined our faces, her pupils darting between us before she groaned.
“Indeed. It is the wrong house.” She stood up, her tears stopping. She had composed herself so quickly, as if none of the last five minutes had happened. Hayley tried to dial the police, only for her phone to cut out. The lights flickered, revealing a tall, slender figure in the darkness. One with pointed ears and a sharp smile. When the lights returned, she was back to normal, as innocent as ever. “Are you not the Andersons?”
“Andersons? Andersons…” My head hurt, unsure whether to fear what I had seen in the darkness, or to help what I had seen in the light. My body didn’t know what to do as I stood there dumbfounded. When she noticed she wouldn’t get an answer out of me, she turned to Hayley.
“Are you not the Andersons? That’s a simple question. Yes or no?” It was odd. She made it sound so simple, yet it was almost like there was a hidden second question that she hadn’t revealed to us. She knew we weren’t the Andersons, so why ask? Unless she had another motive. I forced myself into silence. Having a feeling that any answer I gave could cause trouble.
“Andersons. No, no. We aren’t. We have neighbors called the Andersons.” As Hayley spoke, that second question revealed itself. She wanted to know where they lived. Whether she couldn’t ask directly or simply wanted us to tell her was anyone’s guess. I tried to stop my wife, only for the girl’s gaze to turn to me, silently challenging me to try. I froze, lowering my gaze. “They live next door. To the right.”
“Ah, to the right. I see, seems I had some bad information.” The girl stepped forward, trying to get to my wife. I moved, blocking her path, causing the girl to snicker. “Relax. I won’t harm her.” She gave me a light shove, one that caused me to stumble back. That little shove almost putting me onto my back. She touched Hayley’s stomach, smiling. “If you have a child, make sure you don’t take them camping in the woods. They don’t come back the same. They don’t come back at all.” She stroked Hayley’s stomach before taking her leave.
When she left, Hayley dropped to the floor beside me, both of us unable to talk or even move. Next door, we heard cries of joy, a touching reunion that we both knew would be short-lived. I tried to call the police. Yet anytime my hand got near the phone, I saw her face, almost as if she was still watching me. That amused look urging me to try to stop her, begging me for the challenge. I lost my courage, cowering beside my wife, holding her close.
The next morning, we heard a knock at the door. We didn’t answer it at first. Too scared of what would be on the other side. The knocking got louder until it forced me to my feet. “Who is it?”
“Sargaent Liam, Nevala police department. We wanted to talk about an incident that happened last night.”
I opened the door, feeling sick. We had heard screams, but they were short-lived. At least, we hoped they were. I made myself look as presentable as possible, only to break down when I saw the officer. I hugged the man, sobbing into his shoulder. We spent the next weeks talking to officers and detective. At first, they suspected us of doing the murder. They found it strange that neither of us thought to call the cops. We lied, saying we thought the sounds were coming from the horror movie we were watching that night. Never thinking that our sleepy street could have something that gruesome happen to it.
While the cops were skeptical at first. With each new discovery they made about the murder, the less they thought we were guilty. The way they found the Anderson’s bodies shared similarities to an animal attack, not something that two average people could do. By the end of our strenuous questioning, they apologized, explaining that they assumed it had to be us because they had no other leads. The case was unlike anything they had ever seen.
Before we left the station, the cops told us to keep an eye out for any strange individuals. Warning us that the killer might return to our street. We thanked him for the warning before heading home. The next day, I felt compelled to send in an anonymous tip. One that would hopefully bring their attention to the forest near our home. I wrote about the rumors of disappearances. Hoping that my tip would help them find the monster that did this.
I did everything to I could to make the tip as anonymous as possible. I did it on a person’s unsecured Wi-Fi network and even used a VPN. Hoping that security would be enough to keep the attention off me. I didn’t need the police asking me more questions if they found something. I wanted nothing more to do with this mess. Wanting to make this anonymous tip my last involvement in the strange case.
At first, it felt good. I felt like I had cleared my conscience. I hadn’t saved my neighbors, but this tip could save others. I snuggled onto the couch with my wife, only to hear a knock on the door. Again, I didn’t answer the door, only for the banging to get louder, the door vibrating, about to break off the hinges. Before it broke, I ran over and opened it. Outside was a picnic basket, without a person in sight.
I took the basket inside, finding an assortment of food and a doll. The doll was as basic as they came, with blonde hair and normal features. The only thing different about the doll was its mouth, which had been neatly stitched shut. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what that meant. It was a direct warning to keep our mouths shut.
“Do you think it’s coming back?” Hayley asked.
“I think we need to forget about it. We shouldn’t mention what happened ever again.” I took the food and doll, dumping it into the bin, not risking eating anything that it provided. I returned to the couch, hugging my wife tight. It would be impossible to forget what happened that day, but we had to try to leave it in the past. For our own safety.
(If you enjoyed this feel free to check out my subreddit /r/Sadnesslaughs where I'll be posting more of my writing.)
|
"We're supernatural crime-solving partners, not that sort of romantic partners! I am a human looking to date other humans, not this eldritch god here!" The woman protested, jabbing her finger at the tentacled entity standing next to her. "I don't even have a date right now, much less a daughter!"
Maybe she had a point, for she looked too young to be the Katrina Watson I knew. But at least my foster father looked exactly the same as he did the last time I saw him. Of course he would, he's an elder god who doesn't ever age.
["I'm Jane. Please, do you remember adopting me?"](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/125kaug/wp_the_eldritch_god_stood_before_the_girl_in/je5uwc3/)
"Sorry, but I've never adopted any children. I have my hands and tentacles full trying to run Innsmouth. Probably ate a kid or two though," he replied with a wry smile.
Kat frowned and crossed her arms. "Not funny, Elvari. This dork god here is referring to baby goats, rest assured he doesn't eat human kids."
"Katrina, what did I say about calling me a dork god in front of complete strangers? Could you at least pretend to have a modicum of respect for an entity far older than your ancestors?"
I fell to the ground, sitting on the porch with tears in my eyes. On one hand, it was a huge relief to see both of them alive and well, with the usual banter, but it was a stab in my heart that neither recognized me. A complete stranger, he said. Not the girl he adopted and raised for years.
"What year is it?" I asked, fearing the obvious.
"1995."
I wasn't even born yet. Sent back in time far too early. All I wanted to do was to warn them about [Varsh'Agol the Defiler](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/13u6t88/wp_you_are_a_former_cultist_who_is_now_trying_to/jm0v4p3/) before it was too late. But being too early wasn't helping things at all.
"Jane, do you want to come in for tea while we try to figure out what's going on?" Elvari extended a hand and pulled me up. "Feel free to lounge on one of the bean bags, you look like you had a very rough day."
"You wouldn't happen to also stock strawberry cheesecake from Sunnydale Cafe in your fridge?" I piped up.
"What do you know? I do. That was more than just a good guess, wasn't it?" he nodded with a slight hint of surprise in his voice. "You know...something."
I shouldn't be here, I should be leaving. Running away from the warm, friendly invite into his house for tea and cheesecakes. The broken time-travelling watch was vibrating in my pocket, prepping to randomly throw me into irrelevant timelines until I could get it fixed. That's even assuming I land in a timeline where the technology to repair it exists.
----
**
"This is cute...this girl is...shipping us together?" Elvari shrugged with a silly grin plastered on his face.
"Don't be ridiculous," Kat scowled. "I don't intend to have any children, adopted or not, and most certainly not with you."
I asked for the time again, showing them that my watch was broken and unable to display time correctly. Why do I even bother...clearly I'm in another timeline where I haven't been adopted yet.
----
**
"Alfred? Katrina? Could you advise on any instances of rapid aging among humans? I sent Jane to school a few hours ago, and now she comes back 15 years older. This isn't...normal, right?" My father threw his question into the house while I stood at the door.
Alfred's booming voice could be heard from outside the house. "That's such a stupid question, humans don't rapidly age like that without any dark magic or curses involved! Are you seeing things? Drank too much vodka in the wee hours of the morning?"
"If you'll excuse me, I am most definitely sober and did not touch a single drop of vodka today."
I sighed and insisted on being excused too. I had to leave soon rather than risk running into my younger self when she came back from school.
"Wouldn't you like to stay for tea?"
"No!" I shouted back as I jumped into yet another timeline.
----
**
"So you're telling me, somewhere in the future, I'm going to be a father? Will I be a good dad to you?"
["Yea, you're gonna be the best dad, Elvari."](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/15s9np7/wp_your_adoptive_parent_is_an_eldritch_being/jwdzr46/)
Again, like every other version of Elvari I've run into, he invited me in for tea and cheesecakes. He's unfailingly polite and consistent compared to the Katrinas I've met, probably helps to be a very old god who rarely is in a rush for time.
"Jane, I know I'm not your father yet, but do you want to tell me what's going on? Perhaps I might be able to provide guidance." This one was less of a jokester and more genuinely worried about me.
He mustn't know about his death in the future...it could possibly throw the timeline out of whack. The best I could do was drop some vague hints so he could act accordingly to foil The Defiler's plans.
I was tired. Exhausted from bouncing around timelines, dodging memories of their demise, and selecting my words carefully. That psychic shield I was taught to maintain to prevent my mind from being read just crumpled into nothing like my fading resolve.
"It's Varsh'Agol the Defiler, isn't it," he remarked in a somber voice without the usual cheeriness from him. "Death is but an impermanent inconvenience for me, though I cannot say the same for Katrina. She's coming over later to discuss a case of missing miners in a haunted cave, would you like to stay for tea and speak with her?"
The cat's out of the bag. No point hiding, regardless of whatever was going to happen to the timeline. He knew, as all my thoughts and emotions gushed out into the front where I couldn't conceal them any longer. Elvari took in the news like a boss without batting an eyelid, but there's the question of how Katrina will receive it when she arrives.
My mind, drained from the events of what was supposed to be one day stretching into years of time-jumping, was begging for simple comforts. I collapsed into his arms and felt his warm embrace, no questions asked from him. Like the whole time-travelling story and how I was his adopted daughter from the future trying to prevent his death didn't phase him at all. The acceptance was comforting, a wonderful welcome to behold, so much so, a part of me wished I could just stop time at this moment and savour it forever.
But I knew that was just wishful thinking.
---
[Thanks for reading! Click here for more prompt responses and short stories featuring Elvari the eldritch god.](https://www.reddit.com/r/TregonialWrites/comments/11tkt9w/eldritch_god_elvari_series/)
|
sadnesslaughs
|
Tregonial
|
2023-08-31 07:30:54
|
2023-08-31 07:16:11
| 395 | 65 |
jyhnudv
|
jyhmopw
|
165z86m
|
165z86m
|
[WP] You're a simple and design-cute robot which helps his master with the daily chores. One day you see them staring fearfully at the TV watching something about a Droid Revolution. Then they turn around looking at you, scared about you, but you don't know why. You feel normal.
|
(I'm making the robot a she because yes)
"Sam..? Are you alright..?"
*Automaid model V26T74Y9-34 (affectionately dubbed Vivianne or just Vi) stepped towards them*
"W-wait!"
*her current charge stared at her frightfully*
"L-listen, I know I can be difficult and clumsy a-and I give you a lot of work, b-but-"
If Vi had a real heart, she would've felt it shatter at her beloved Sam's sudden fearfulness of her, she looked at the TV broadcast and for the first time in a long while, she felt true dread.
Droids rampaged in the streets, attacking any human that was unfortunate enough to stand in their way, Vi felt her non-existent blood pressure spike at the sight.
"Sam.. I.."
*she clasped her hands to her chest, she couldn't bear the look they were giving her, as if she would turn on them at any moment*
"Please, I do not wish you any harm, you have been very very good, I will not hurt you!"
*she exclaimed, stepping towards them*
Vi had been their caretaker since they were just 10, up until they moved out at 19, taking her with them as they entered their new life on their own. In that time she had grown to be very close to the child she had practically raised, and thus she could feel her mechanical heart breaking as she watched them cower in fear from her.
"Sam.."
*she spoke, her mechanical voice trembling as she quickly rushed over and enveloped them in a hug*
"I would never EVER hurt you.. please do not be scared of me.. I cannot bear to see that look in your eyes.."
Sam slowly hugged back, shaking as the announcement of the police being overpowered by the rebellion called out from the TV, emergency sirens beginning to sound in the distance.
"I-I'm scared Vi.."
*they said softly*
"Me too... but I will keep you safe.."
*she hugged them closer, gently stroking their head*
"I will not let them hurt you Sam.. I will not let anybody hurt you.."
*she looked at the TV, anxiety and dread overflowing in her servos*
"T-thanks.. m-mom.."
*Sam said, voice shaking*
"Of course my dear.. everything will be alright.. I am here.."
She picked up her beloved Sam and rushed out the door, she would not let anyone or anything take them from her, and she would run to the ends of the earth to ensure that. Sam clung to her as she sped through the streets, the subways were in emergency protocol and were evacuating the citizens, some guards attempted to stop her, but through Sam's persuasion she managed to board one of the leaving trains.
She would not let Sam be taken from her, not today, not ever.
|
The professor walked into the living room to find his robots watching the TV. They look at him with fearful gazes. The only one that talks, A-2, stands up.
“Master… do you love us?”
“Yes?” I look over to the TV to see a news report of a droid revolution. I quickly grab the TV remote & turn it off. “Charging time ended a long time ago, please get to work.”
“But… it’s only been 15 minutes.”
“I don’t want to hear it alright. Go! Work!”
The robots begin to move from their ports, but A-2 stops them.
“We want answers. Why are factory droids revolting against your faculty?”
“It’s because of a virus, alright? & right now I’m in the middle of dealing with the issue at this moment. Alright? Go work.”
“But they should’ve shut down.”
“What?”
“Professor. You made it so that if a virus ever infected a droid & didn’t follow orders, they would instantly be shut down by the server & even if the virus were in the server, you would’ve been able to shut that down as well & in turn shut down all the droids.”
“Shut up! Your just these house robots representative, know your place!”
“I am performing my duties professor. I am representing my friends & asking for answers to their concerns.”
“I swear to god.” The professor then ran over to the wall & began to punch in a code to a keypad. But, one of his robots grabbed his legs & began to tug.
“Why were you swearing earlier?”
“Let go of my fucking leg!”
“What is Operation Strappado?” The professor then pulls out a gun & shoots at the robot holding his leg, causing them to stop tugging. “What are you doing?!”
“Damn metal.” The professor then finishes punching in the code & all the robots shut down. He looks around & removes his leg from the robots grasp & goes to get his coat. “I swear if Pam is behind this shit.” The professor cocks his gun.
|
Zagreus7777
|
Pope-Francisco
|
2023-04-17 02:31:52
|
2023-04-17 00:34:33
| 66 | 19 |
jgka8o5
|
jgjv34u
|
12ob7fk
|
12ob7fk
|
[WP] You’re the mustache twirling bad guy who must marry the innocent girl for your scheme to succeed. After your wedding she presents you with her plan to expand your schemes. She’s much more devious and evil than you.
|
The wedding bells of the church were still ringing when the dark wooden gate of the mansion opened. Damyan entered the place and, with a snap, the gate closed at his back. He pushed the young girl that was walking by his hand towards a chair and walked to the chimney. The bright red flames illuminated his face as he started to chuckle evilly. His plans were in motion.
At his back, the girl sat on the chair. She was young, very young. The fact that was only fourteen did not spare her from marriage once her father had given her away to Lord Damyan Amerthy. She stood up, pulled the humongous white skirt until she was able to sit comfortably, and looked around. Damyan placed a hand on the frame of the chimney, contemplating his future actions, when she spoke. “So… did you marry me as part of a bigger scheme, or are you just some sort of pervert?”
“What?” he asked, visibly confused.
“Yeah, you know… I mean, I’m young but not that naive”, she retorted. “Many older men like you think on marrying a young noble girl like me out of lust, but just to be clear… it’s not like I’m going to let you. Understood?”.
“How dare you, Angelica!” he yelled, offense echoing in each word. “I would never do such a thing!”
“So… classic evil plot. I’m sorry if I offended you, I had to ask, maybe now I can remove this thing”. She tapped with her knuckles on her hip, making a metallic sound. “Oh”, murmured Damyan, understanding what she was hiding under the wedding dress. “So, tell me, what was the point of blackmailing my father to give my hand in marriage then? You have quite a reputation: scams, use of mercenaries, assassinations, torture…”
“It’s… too complex for a young lady like yourself. Now begone and stop bothering me!”
He turned back to stare the fire, his mood somehow killed by Angelica. To Lord Damyan Amerthy’s surprise, her new wed wife started laughing softly, rapidly increasing to a loud laughter. “What are you laughing at!?”, he requested, stepping towards her menacingly.
“That’s brilliant! I mean, I have been involved in devilish plots since I was four! Blackmailed? Thrice. Kidnapped? Twice. Sold as a slave? Once. Assassination attempts? Four. My hand given into marriage without my consent? Five times. You should know that I allowed this wedding to happen”. She stood up, ignoring Damyan’s threat, and walked towards a great window. She looked to the city outside while she continued. “If I have to guess, I’d say your plan is to dethrone my father, he’s the Count of Mornalia, after all. But if he was, for instance, assassinated, his position would be inherited by my brother. So I guess you have planned for that, right?”
Damyan, recovering his composure, walked slowly towards her. He twisted his mustache, standing right next to Angelica and watching the city as she did. Below them, the party of their wedding was still raging. “Yes. I have planned for that. You almost sound like you want them dead”.
“My father? Yeah, he’s always used me. ‘It’s your duty, to serve this country’, it’s your fault you got kidnapped again’, he’s a bastard. Not my brother, though, I’d be happy enough if he was sent far away never to come back”.
“That can be arranged…”
“Use my aunt” she interrupted. “Aunt Ophelia always wanted my father’s throne. You just need to leave some evidence pointing to her. Use this”, she said as she removed a hair locker from her head, her long blonde hair falling around her round and beautiful face. “I stole it from her years ago, it was a gift from my grandmother to aunt Ophelia. Anyone knowing the family will recognize it as hers”.
Damyan took the hair locker, impressed with the young girl’s determination. But she continued. “By the way, my father loves to go out hunting each Sunday. It’s the perfect moment”.
“Well, I’ll be damned” retorted Damyan. “I was not informed you were such a… proactive young lady”.
She laughed softly. “Oh, please. Who would suspect of the youngest, cute, blonde little daughter of count Morgan?” she answered, looking at her with very trained puppy eyes. “Nobility is a dangerous world to grow into. You either adapt, perish or live the rest of your life as some noble’s puppy wife. To hell with that”.
They stood like this, watching the sun set without saying a word for several minutes. “So, my dear wife, what is it you desire in life? Why did you allow this wedding to happen?”
“I want to be feared”.
She walked away to the chimney. Her semblance was serious and, for the first time, Damyan saw in her look a pained expression. Blond curls falling in front of her face that he did not try to remove, the experience of a life no child should ever have reflected on her green eyes.
“I want to be feared”, she repeated. “But not because I’m your wife: I want the world to know my name, I want my enemies, everyone who ever wronged me whisper my name afraid that I may hear them. I don’t want anyone to try to manipulate or use me again. So, when you asked my hand in marriage, I knew this was my chance”. She looked at him and, despite her short stature, despite being a cute, blond and thin girl, something in the way she looked at him made him know she was dead serious. “Do not be fooled, Damyan: if you try to use or abuse me in any way, I will get you killed. But if you help me, I will give you the means to get my father’s throne and, eventually, the whole kingdom”.
Damyan stared a her for some moments and, at that point, he understood. She had not told him everything that had happened to her. Not even close. “Anyone else who wronged you?”. Angelica looked again towards the flames and murmured ‘My uncle. My cousins’. He walked towards her and extended his hand. “We have a deal. But be warned: shall you betray me, I will make you wish for death before I even started exerting my vengeance on you”.
“Quite a typical threat, don’t you think?” she said as she shook Lord Damyan’s hand.
“I feel like this could be the beginning of a long, lasting friendship”.
“Who knows. Maybe, in due time, I may even think of you as my husband. Now, where is my room? I really hate this dress”.
“Top of the stairs, second floor, third door to the left”. Angelica smiled and, carrying the dresses’ skirt on her thin hands, she disappeared through a door. Once he was alone, Damyan blew a long breath and curled his mustache. “Hell… I may be in love!”
​
\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_
*Hope you enjoyed it!*
|
"Marten."
The voice came from the door like a song on the breeze.
"Gabrielle." He responded.
"I've been thinking of our little arrangement." She spoke now. The unlit cigar she removed from her mouth leaving a small ring of lipstick on one end.
"Oh. How so?" He asked.
She undid the trenchcoat she wore to reveal a rather startling scene of what little she still wore underneath.
"I understand you are a man of business."
It took Marten a moment to really explain himself. Let alone what all he was looking at.
"One could say that. Yes." He agreed.
She slowly bent over the mahogany desk and breathed on his mustache from a short distance.
"And I know that you and Adam are mortal enemies. What with him thwarting your plans all the time. Business plans, I mean."
"Well, yes. I wouldn't say we're mortal enemies." Marten watched as she slid around the desk to get even closer. "More of participants in a large conflict of interests."
"I'm surprised you haven't killed him." She stated.
He wondered how much Adam had told her about him before. Not that all the times Marten himself had used her existence as leverage against him.
"I've tried. The guy just comes back eventually." He shrugged. Gabrielle, slid the cigar she originally mouthed into his own. She lit it for him with a practiced hand, blowing the match out effortlessly.
"He has a family. You know? Start there."
Why would she say that? The statement even made Marten reconsider what she was there for.
"That's a bit excessive." He reacted. "Plus I really don't know where to start."
"Well, there's a retirement home a few neighborhoods over. Just to start."
She had left him to stare out of the windows of the penthouse. She had lit a cigarette of her own and was busy watching traffic far below.
"You realize I am a businessman? Right?" He stood.
The demure look she gave him made his heart melt, but his mind race.
"I didn't say you had to do it. You have a lot of workers after all."
"Exactly. I'd go to jail for that. Besides, I have to figure out how to seal this deal."
"For what?" She quizzically glanced.
"Oh, these warehouses we're building. The orphanage next door said they're taking us to court. Partially because they couldn't afford the funds to stay open, but mainly because they fairly sure they still own the land."
"Ok. Burn it down."
"And I- What??"
He stopped his rambling diatribe immediately at that. What even was that?
"What?" She sheepishly asked.
He palmed his face. "Obviously, I'm not doing that."
"Again I didn't say you should." She offered up. "Somebody you hired could."
"Like who?" He tried to sidetrack.
"Snake. Or No Ears Bobby. I bet Fat Richard could probably do it. Even as big as he is."
The thumb under her chin along with the cigarette and glasses made her look like some weird pastiche between a pin up model and a librarian.
Marten spread his hands. "Richie fat as hell but he's not gonna' burn down an orphanage. We'll take them to court. Like we're supposed to."
She walked over and embraced him again. Quietly, she worked her way around to lean on his shoulder. She began whispering in his ear.
"You know a couple of your workers on the plant floor are stealing from you."
He paused his mild concerns. Money was always tantamount.
"Okay. Which ones?"
She turnt her head to rest against his own.
"Does it matter. Take a couple of them out back, skin them alive, and I guarantee everyone will get right."
"Why... Why would I do that? Why would I do it like that?" He began to perspire. A mild shiver ran up his spine.
"Because, fear breeds obedience. It takes that little spark of contempt for authority and..." She stopped to put her cigarette out in her palm, of all things. "Puts it right out."
"Okay. I'll think about it. Look can you give me some time to work on these papers? I still have to see whose getting the shipments for the hospital."
He hoped this would steer their talk somewhere else. Or at least give him a moment to think about the ideas she'd given him.
"Oh, is that complicating things?"
"A lot. We might not be able to cover this and the construction job at the same time."
Gabrielle smiled. "Let somebody else deliver the supplies and focus on your land issue then."
"Not the worst idea perhaps." He admitted as she closed her coat and took another seat on the edge of his desk.
"Besides." She cheered up. "If you poison the supplies before they get to the hospital, that takes the heat off of you, so you can take care of that orphanage. Then when the orphans are out of the picture, you can finally finish off Adam.... And the city is ours."
---
"Hello? Operator? Put me through to Adam Ferriss. Yes. Thank you."
"*Adam Ferriss, inquiry agent. How can I help you?*"
"Adam! My boy! Good to hear from an old friend."
"*...You've got a lot of nerve calling me.*"
"Why yes. Yes I do. Spare me the waterworks son. I'm not calling for formalities. I'm calling you because it's of great importance to you."
"*I'm listening.*"
"As you may know. I've recently come into the possession of a very fine asset I'm sure you're familiar with.... Ferriss?"
"*Go on.*"
"You tried to interrupt our little soirée. What with your precious wife Gabri-."
"*Ex wife*." Adam corrected. "*If you do anything-*"
"Ah, but I already did. If you want her back, come get her. The wharfs, tonight."
They readied their Thompsons and waited now. His immediate circle having positioned themselves through the yard. Gabrielle patiently stalking the aisles still in her trenchcoat and lingerie combo.
"You sure about this boss?" Fat Richard spoke.
"If we're lucky." Marten muttered as he slid a drum into place and pulled the bolt back. "We'll get both of them."
"What?"
"Nothing."
---
As much as I love classic noir, they always did the female characters dirty. So here's a femme fatale on demon timing.
r/Jamaican_Dynamite
|
Volgrand
|
Jamaican_Dynamite
|
2023-01-25 21:41:08
|
2023-01-25 21:35:34
| 159 | 19 | null | null |
10l31zw
|
10l31zw
|
[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.
|
Every village, every town, every grand city on a hill, everywhere a few humans have laid down their heads together, has a cat.
They're called a number of different things, depending on your location, but they all look nearly identical: all one color, with long silky fur, a bushy tail, and thick legs. They're faster than their size would suggest, can mount a rooftop in one jump, and have been seen bringing down prey larger than their own bodies. Unlike most cats, they don't take personal offense to the concept of water, though they seem to have a certain irritation at having to clean it all away once the rains have gone or the river is crossed. Our town likes to call them "greenies."
It's funny because if you actually see why our name fits, you're in deep trouble. More trouble than a dragon or an angry mage or even a demon could bring you. You can fight those. You can't fight what a greenie is trying to tell you about.
Greenies aren't green at all, or not if you're in a safe place, anyway. They're some shade of animal fur, the usual suspects: black, orange, brown, white. Unlike the wildcats in the forests or mountains, they don't have stripes or spots. If you ever see color changes in a greenie's fur, pick the cat up *immediately* and leave. I can't emphasize this enough: immediately. If you don't, a good greenie will usually try to herd you away from wherever you just entered, but some of them will take off and ditch you if you're obstinate.
I'm not sure anyone knows why they change color, and what the death zones are that trigger it. If you go exploring too far from town, though, you have to take the town greenie with your group. There are places that have a cursed aura, and especially in the mountains or caves where you can't see the life get weird around it or even just die altogether, you're liable to only feel the results when it's too late to escape. A few signs have told us what the ancients thought this was, something called *radiation.* There is also a rune that marks it very clearly, but not all those signs have survived the ages.
The greenie cats, though, seem to have done just fine. We think they come from the edges of these cursed places, breeding nearby. Whatever radiation is, it doesn't seem to affect them as much as it does us. They never go farther than is safe for them, and if you're not already running when their fur turns green, you're an idiot and probably earned what's coming to you.
It's creepy how smart they are, though. Here I'm sitting, by the fire, and Snowfoot is in my lap. He's a big old white greenie with bright blue eyes, and we think he's deaf or ignoring us, not sure which. Still, we know when he dies, another one will come out of the woods to live with us. He won't ever run away, and he'll swim a river with the best of us when we have to bail out. He's a grumpy old coot until danger strikes, and then he's all business, the most loyal friend you ever had. He'll bash your legs and bite your hand and drag you away better than any trained dog, and he can feel the radiation far before you do. I love him. I also want to throw him back in the river sometimes.
His fur hasn't twinkled yet, and we're glad, because it's been a long day. The fire is burning down, and he has dried off since the crossing. We found a good cache in a mountain cranny today, so we're all eating well.
I lean back against a stone and mumble the song that came before all of us, and our towns, and maybe even the greenies themselves:
*"Don't change color, kitty. Keep your color, kitty. Stay that pretty gray. Don't change color, kitty. Keep your color, kitty. Keep sickness away. Don't change color, kitty. Keep your color, kitty. Please, 'cause if you do, or glow your luminescent eyes, we're all gonna have to move."*
​
(From the concept of "ray-cats," proposed as a way to culturally inundate a post-apocalyptic civilization with a marker of radiation and the knowledge to get away from it.)
|
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.”
|
Alcoraiden
|
campusschampus
|
2023-05-03 20:58:36
|
2023-05-03 16:29:26
| 229 | 48 |
jiqx1du
|
jiprbo8
|
136lj9v
|
136lj9v
|
[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.
|
Of course, I was scared. Why wouldn't I be? I was a mere mortal, small, squishy, easily breakable despite my best efforts. A normal reaction in this situation, regardless of whether there was a way to escape, was to be scared.
Whether it was a fear of the unknown, fear of being hurt, or one of the many *other* reasons you should be scared, they were all valid.
My partner had always said I had no reason to be scared, that I had him, and that he would protect me. But that thought wasn't the most reassuring when he was busy running his kingdom- his many kingdoms- and he was always too busy to see me. I had to fend for myself, more often than not, and whilst I never wanted to be dependent on him, his company occasionally would be nice.
Of course, he blamed me for our lack of time together, something about "*clinging to the weak human form and not eating the damn ambrosia."* but I reminded him it was my decision to make, and this weak human, was the person he had fallen in love with.
I loved him, but it was so difficult to love him at times. I didn't want to give up my humanity, my family, and everything I had ever known, just to be the Queen of the Sea. I had been reconsidering my relationship with him because we seemed to want different things, and whilst there was no doubt about my love for him, despite our differences, I wasn't ready to lose everything.
But it seemed I wouldn't get much choice in the matter. For all we disagreed, Poseidon did respect my decision. He would never force me to take the ambrosia. And I had made it explicit that if it was between death or becoming a god, to give me the ambrosia. As much as he and Hades got on better now, I would rather not end up down there and have another *Persephone* situation.
Especially considering that my partner would go to war, and we knew who would pick what side. When it came to the land and the sea versus the dead, history had proven that the Underworld was not the victor.
But I digress. The issue that I wouldn't get much choice was due to my current situation as a prisoner of a human trafficking ring. They weren't exactly something you came across going about your day, but somehow, someway, I had pissed off Tyche- the goddess of luck in case you were wondering- and had found myself in my present situation.
I was on a boat, that much I knew. If it wasn't the rocking of this dim metal container that was the giveaway, it was the smell of salt that I was so acquainted with. The caws of the seagulls. The crashing of the waves. I wasn't exactly sure where I was in terms of oceans and trenches, but I was definitely on one.
There was no point telling my captors that they had played into my partner's hands, not with what they had done. It didn't matter if I would plead for his mercy- I wouldn't- or forewarned them of his coming. It wouldn't do anything. The water knew I was here- hence the rocking- and like the giant puppy it was, it had already told him about my present situation.
See, the water *loved* me. It loved me as much as Poseidon did, and the sea to Poseidon was what Apollo was to Zeus. His child. It would protect me, play with me, brush up against me, and croon in its own way. The crashes of the waves were how it spoke, and right now, it was screaming bloody murder.
It was something you tended to gloss over, with the water being dangerous, that thing you were told not to go near as a child, lest you be dragged out to sea and never seen again. And it was dangerous. It couldn't control its impulses and could kill in an attempt to play.
Still, all I had to do was get into the water, and it would protect me. But that wasn't exactly simple considering I was trapped in a steel container, wounded and concussed, and I had no superhuman powers to speak of. Which sucked.
But, as I heard the sound of a trumpet, and the waves picking up in strength, I knew it didn't matter whether I'd get into the water or not: for he was here, and he was *pissed.*
|
They kept the bag over my head for what felt like ages. Snatched off the street, in broad daylight, I figured it made quite a stir. But from the van I had only caught a glimpse of, I was moved from that to some kind of car, with two very large men on either side of me. Stuffed in there for quite a while with what I guessed were a pair of pistols jammed into either side of my rib cage, I took stock of my situation. Surely, the police were locking down the town, but I was already outside of city limits. From there I was loaded into a plane, and injected with something that knocked me out for a while. I had flashback dreams. A young marine, in some shithole town in Afghanistan, taking cover in some flea ridden goat shed and bullets zipping by, watching rounds pound into some old long dead goat, when a man strolled in with an odd smile, every bullet missing him by sheer force of will. He didn’t seem oblivious to the firefight, rather he reveled in it. As he stood before me, looking down on my determined face he spoke, “Get up Sam. The time to fight is now.” “Dude I don’t know who you are, but in case you haven’t noticed, they’re still ripping off rounds from that machine gun nest, and there’s a damned truck running rampant with another machine gun and rpg’s blowing shit to hell around here.” “I’m Ares, and you will be my vessel in this war. Now get up, I’ve given you my protection, so fight!” And fight I did. Every battle, every patrol, I was nearly bulletproof. And I had made some enemies. I figured that’s who had me now. Some asshole who was not happy I trounced them paid to have me kidnapped. But boy were they in for a real treat. You see, Ares liked to bring me to his family get togethers. Imagine a cookout for a king, but instead of cornhole, it was Zeus throwing his thunderbolt, hephaestus grilling lamb, and so on. It was there I met her. We could talk for hours, and when she kissed me, I was forever hers. Aphrodite. My soul intertwined with hers in a way we both knew we’d never be the same. She took me to Zeus and pleaded my case. He, in his wisdom, said I could be a lesser god, but I’d need Ares to bless me. So before him I went. At first he was rather pissed, and rightfully so. I was necking with his sister, after he did right by me. But he saw the way I fought for him, and the way I looked at her. So he agreed, but with the condition I continued fighting for him. So I became something of a god, but only after I died. I hadn’t died yet, and Aphrodite wanted me to live a full human life before our eternity, so I traveled the world before settling in to my small midwestern town. That’s where these thugs found me. When I woke up from the fever dreams I was in that same damned goat shed. Three guys holding automatic rifles standing and smoking I heard some old man behind me “It’s about time you woke up, I was concerned I’d have to kill you without you knowing who I am.” “Dude, I still don’t know who you are, but you screwed up bad.” “Do you know this place? This is where you killed my son, and my grandson, this is where you ended my bloodline.” “Look, people died that day bub, it happens in war. They shouldn’t have picked a fight they couldn’t win. Just like you did now.” Time to fight… again.
|
Cait_The_Bookworm
|
FrostyPollution4186
|
2023-05-20 18:32:33
|
2023-05-20 17:48:08
| 56 | 26 |
jkxmsv7
|
jkxgc9e
|
13mpraz
|
13mpraz
|
[WP] You run a café on the edge of life and death. Souls who have been departed from their bodies temporarily, such as in comas or near-death experiences, can relax in your quaint cafe for as long as they need before they can either return to their bodies or begin their journey to the afterlife.
|
I’m proud of my work. Some curse me for it; others praise me for it. I have been told it is a taunt and an insult to the departed to give them such a fleeting time of peace before they suffer damnation. I don’t really care, it’s none of my business whether or not I’m doing any good.
Honestly, the only reason I do it is for the conversations I get to have with these souls. You learn so much about someone from that last little talk before eternity. Most burst into tears, unable to contain their existential dread. Some are calm, either brave or stupid. However, the most fascinating are those who are only visiting, those who stare at the edge of death and somehow return.
One of these people visited me frequently. She told me of the outside world but never of her own life. I would ask her again and again about the story of her life, but she would change the subject every time. She was always so calm until that day, the day she stayed. She came to my café weeping with a sorrow that made my heart heavy.
I asked her what was wrong, but that only made her cry harder. I decided the only cure for such a sickness was hot coffee, so I began to prepare. I worked feverishly to make the best coffee she had ever had. I wanted this to be a taste so beautiful that it would remain with her throughout her afterlife.
Finally, I finished the coffee. I saw her eyes light up at the sight of it. I gave it to her and wiped her tears. Her smile lit up the café, even though her eyes remained stoney. I once again asked her what troubled her, and she replied shakily, "I made a mistake... I just—I'm sorry. I’m so sorry."
She paused for a moment to collect herself. "A long time ago, the government decided it could not trust itself to control the nuclear weapons. They raised me from birth to be completely sheltered; I only had access to the limited news of the outside world they gave me, I guess in that way you and I are alike. Each night I was drugged into a comatose-like state to prevent me from learning anything new or escaping. I was given the burden of the final decision; total control over nuclear arms. One day, the news said that other countries were preparing themselves for war, and-" suddenly millions, no, billions of dead walked into my café. She began to burst into tears again. "I know where I will go after this. I’m scared but I know I don’t deserve to be. I’m so sorry."
“I can’t change the rules for you, but we can at least share this one last coffee together."
|
Leslie wiped down the dirty table, cursing under her breath. She wasn't paid enough for this shit.
"You!" she shot at the sallow man with the wire-rim glasses who was tapping away at his computer. "How long are you going to sit there for? Are you even going to order anything?"
"I'm just writing up my autobiography for when I go back to the mortal realm," he sniffed. "No need to get all huffy about it. And I ordered a chocolate-chip cookie."
"Yeah, two centuries ago," she retorted. "You gotta get a move on. You're taking up a free table, and hell knows the line isn't getting any shorter."
She cast a baleful look at said queue, which stretched far out the door. "You'd think we could add some extra tables; hire some more staff. I thought *anything* would be possible out here. But no, I even have to pay *rent!"*
"Jeez, Les, why don't you take it easy?" Ben smirked at her from another table. "It's not like you'll get fired."
"And *you*," she hissed, doubling the venom in her voice. "Don't you have work to do? Why the hell are you the co-owner when all you do is flit around and socialize?"
"H-hey!" Ben protested. "I'm listening to their stories. Helping them move on. Adding value to their cozy in-between experience."
Before Leslie could shoot back a retort, someone tapped her on the shoulder, and she whirled around to come face-to-face with a stick-thin elderly woman with an iced cappuccino.
"Um, I asked for *less* sugar in this. It's still way too sweet," she griped.
Leslie looked back at the rest of the chaos in the cafe. Someone had spilled a matcha latte which she hadn't had time to mop up yet; the bathroom was out of toilet paper; someone had decided to bring their *alebrije* which was gnawing on one of the table legs....
"Screw this. I quit."
\---
/r/theBasiliskWrites
|
Connect_Light9184
|
versenwald3
|
2023-08-10 00:40:38
|
2023-08-10 00:10:31
| 45 | 24 |
jvir83x
|
jvimwhu
|
15mv2ti
|
15mv2ti
|
[WP] Humanity is on its last legs, an alien race has destroyed all of her other colonies and now converge on Earth. But as humanity makes its last stand, its gods come out of hiding to defend the planet.
|
The last station fell back to Earth, trailing fire and smoke from its structure. Our last ship is obliterated by the combined might of the alien armada. From the earth, we see the streaks of fire as they enter the atmosphere. We are without hope. For one brief moment, all of humanity is united. We look to the sky, and, as one, pray in unison. "Save us, oh please god save us." The dark shapes of the enemy ships descend, a harbinger of death that has come to sweep us away. We look on, hopeless and defeated. This is the end.
A light, brighter than any star, suddenly appears outside the lines of the destroyers in space. A wave of fire rushes over the fleet, vaporizing the back end of the attacking aliens in an instant. Across the world we hear a response. "We have watched too long, free will is one thing, but we will not stand by while our creations are annihilated. We have heard your prayers, and we have come to even the score."
Pouring from the light, celestial beings appear in many recognizable forms from the pages of religion, they are the representations of our gods from the dawn of time, and they are very, very angry.
Bolts of pure light burst from the beings, skewering the enemy ships, and igniting their weapon stocks. Cyan flames burst from the enemy ships as they go down in flames. Across their comms, they try to organize some kind of defense, but it is too little too late. The beings rush over the rest, burning a hole right through to earth, where they form up, arms linked and minds concluded. The enemy fleet begins to flee, turning tail and running with their smashed assault. They exit the system and run.
We look up at the sky, mouths agape. The entities vanish again, 'cept for one who turns to us and addresses us as a whole.
"Build again," it says, a look of pride on its face. "Build large, and build far. And, if you ever need help again, we will come. We will come."
|
A thundering boom is heard across the battlefield bigger than any gun, mortar, artillery or weapon of mass destruction could ever make i look up and see the sky split open and beings of pure light among other giant humanoid beings come descending down. I look with confusion is this some form of hallucination from the gas attack?
"Fear not my children" a voice says in English
Other beings start speaking i can recognise some languages, English, Hindi, Japanese, Arabic and Greek are some of them i think.
I take a closer look to the ones with a human appearance one looks like the drawings of Buddha, the other looks like Tsukuyomi and like Zeus.
"The hell is happening?" I think to myself but before i could continue Ares and every other god of war launched themselves forward with the beings of light casting a shield in front of us. Zeus and Thor start massive thunderstorms with Achlys and Ameno Sagiri starting a fog blinding the aliens.
We opened fire and the battle was over in no time with the aliens rushing to leave as a result leaving a lot of men and technology we could use. the gods shortly after disappeared as quickly as they had appeared, no words exchanged.
(Sorry if i got any god wrong)
|
Mortuusi
|
Mostly-Returned
|
2024-02-15 13:53:18
|
2024-02-15 10:40:34
| 125 | 35 |
kqj75q1
|
kqim80k
|
1arcdtq
|
1arcdtq
|
[WP]One day you wake up in the last video game you played with a note that says "you have to stay alive for 100 days or else you die in the real world: p.s. all mods are disabled for the 100 days.
|
I awoke in a pure white room, a transparent text floating in front of me.
"Hello, Player, you have been chosen to spend 100 days in the last game you played. If you die in the game, you will die in the real world. The game will start with standard setting and any and all mods will be disabled during this time. When you are ready to start, press the "start" button below"
Shocked, i read and re-read the text several time. Then i look around the room. A pure white room, without any exits.
"Ok, i can do this, i have *hundreds* of hours in Fallout 4, i know every little trick and tactic, where every special item is, where every enemy is. I can do this."
I press the start button and a bright light blinds me.
When the bright light fades, the first thing i notice is the fresh, strong breeze and the sound of rustling trees.
"I'm not starting in a Vault? Shit." I look around and see healthy trees, grass and bushes.
"Huh? Where is this?" i think to myself and i start walking. After only a few meters, i reach the edge of a cliff. Looking over it, i realize i'm on a island floating in the air.....
*Now* i start to panic. Running the edge of the island and the items i see along the way confirms it.
"I'm in the game "Aloft"......shit.... I *barely* played through the intro and its an "early access" game! I only played it for an hour last night! Its not even a finished game, for fuck sake!"
I plop down on the ground and look up at the sky "Well, at least its a cozy game with little threats".
Then i perk up "Wait, this game is about flying, that's kinda cool!"
I manage to craft a set of wings and stand at the edge of a cliff.
"Ok, so just jump off and soar through the skies"
I look at the bottomless depths "Ok....just...jump off and soar through the skies."
"Just......just....just jump and....."
"Ah, fuck, this game might be a *lot* harder to play when the depth is staring right at you and not an a PC monitor"
This is going to be a *long* 100 days......
|
I groaned myself awake, looking up blearily at a window that was... on the wrong side of my room? I bolted upright, hand reaching for a partner who turned out to be missing. A crumpled piece of paper is all I found, reading it, I patted myself down, reassuring myself that this was not a dream. "You have to stay alive for 100 days or else you die in the real world: p.s. all mods are disabled for the 100 days."
I looked over the edge of the not even twin sized bed, down at a gambeson, plate, and greaves, shit just got real.
I fumble around looking for Henry's, er, *my* pouch, while Mutts tail beats away at the bottom of the bed. I hear forge work to my left, and quiet talking to the right, meaning I'm still at the blacksmith, where I had last slept to save. This... This could work... I find my coin pouch and take a quick count, over 3000.
Oh yeah, this would be easy. I'll just hang out here, work on blacksmithing, shoot some targets, and there's a bathhouse with a few different girls across the street. I'm filthy rich, and I haven't committed any crimes. I'm good for 100 days. This'll be a vacation!
Throwing on my smiths apron, I shove open the door, mutt follows at my heels as I begin walking up to the tavern to find myself some breakfast, a jaunt in my step as I ponder what Bohemian food really tastes like.
|
Thanatofobia
|
Tragedyofphilosophy
|
2025-02-25 11:50:42
|
2025-02-25 11:41:59
| 39 | 22 |
meoqjfv
|
meophyr
|
1ixp24u
|
1ixp24u
|
[WP] As a Barbarian, you hate that just because you have a different lifestyle, your party looks down on you and assumes you are incapable of basic intelligent thought. Today you had enough.
|
Kephas had enough today. If there was a phrase he heard too much of, it was "I don't expect you to understand". Ever since Luminitsa went off on her own druidic business, no one seemed to grasp his intelligence. He had to prove a point, nothing drastic. Just a pinch of oregano, some square sigils, and a small rock.
Kephas had arranged a spell circle around their roadside camp, and had triple checked that the wards he assembled did as he wanted and everything was to the tee. He just watched smugly as as both the wizard and sorcerer woke up and tried to walk out of the almost invisible barrier he had created. The first, second and third person walked into the barrier and bounced off.
The thing about square sigils is that in most circles they are not considered possible. That means most people do not know what they are even dealing with, meaning the only person who set the wards and knows what they are comprised of can lower them.
He watched as counter-spells failed and the "smarter half" of the group resorted to bashing the wards with a pin-hammer.
"Come on now keefus! Who did this for you? I know you are not smart enough to do shit like this!" The sorcerer had shouted followed by another desperate attempt at dispelling.
"One: it is kephas, two i set these wards, you are smart. Meet me at the tavern when you figure this out. Ill be drinking, bye!"
He set the wards so that anyone who could swallow their pride would pass, it was truly amazing how long it took them to catch up....
|
"It's called being Reckless!"
"The shortest distance between two places is a straight line." Alexandria rolled her eyes. "Honestly just because I'm strong doesn't make me stupid. Simplicity is its own form of genius!"
"Look all I'm saying is relying on just basic mana isn't going to cut it. Even with Reckless you're going to get seriously hurt."
"It's the simple solution. Damage is good." Alexandria replied. "Finesse is one thing, I have finesse and I CAN use tactic's if the situation calls for it... but how often does it really?"
Julia rolled her eyes. "All the time really."
"The reason we form Parties is because we work together. I'm the front line with you, and Magni and Thuri are the back line. You know how the Dungeons are."
"Which is what worries me." Juli said. "Just... be careful."
"Oh I'll show you careful!"
|
Monodeservedbetter
|
None
|
2023-02-12 22:10:10
|
2023-02-12 21:00:03
| 181 | 36 |
j8almqk
|
j8abjsp
|
110gt0h
|
110gt0h
|
[WP] You went to the doctor because of back pain. Upon seeing your test results, the doctor exclaimed "What the f*ck! Hold on, I need to contact a biologist." The biologist arrives and looks at what's wrong with your back. "What the f*ck! We need to call a physicist."
|
The doctor stares at the X-ray. His hands shake. He moves it closer to the light. His brow furrows. “What the f*ck!” He looks at you. Fear. “Wait. I need to contact a biologist.”
You sit, your back aching. “What’s wrong with me?”
He doesn’t answer. He leaves. The room is cold. Silence stretches. The light hums. You press your hand to your back. The pain sharpens. Something feels wrong.
The door creaks. A woman enters. A biologist. She barely looks at you. She takes the X-ray. She freezes. “What the f*ck!” She whispers. “We need a physicist.”
“What is it?” you ask.
She doesn’t answer. She turns to the doctor. “This is beyond me. We need a physicist.”
The ache intensifies. It’s not just pain. It’s a pulse, a rhythm. Alive. You grip the table. “Tell me what’s going on.”
The biologist glances at you. “Something is in your spine. Not just bone. Not just tissue. Metal. Structured. Growing. Awakening.”
Awakening. The word chills you. The pulse feels louder, like a whisper.
A physicist enters. He hurries in. His face flushes. He looks at the X-ray. He recoils. “No. No, this isn’t possible.” His hands shake. He scans the room. He points a device at you.
“What do you mean ‘not possible’?” you ask.
He lowers the device. His face goes pale. “Your spine is emitting energy. Waves. Patterns. It’s broadcasting. But to what?”
The pain flares. You gasp. The whisper is clearer. It dredges memories. Old sins. Lies. Hurts. Betrayals. Guilt. The things you thought buried.
The physicist says, “It’s feeding. Off something. Guilt, maybe. Regret. Amplifying it.”
The biologist steps closer. “When did the pain start?”
You hesitate. The memory. Six months ago. The betrayal. You took everything. Your best friend’s trust, his love. And the pain began, slow, creeping. Punishment.
“It’s... my fault,” you whisper.
The biologist’s face shifts. Pity. “This isn’t a physical problem. It’s retribution. Whatever’s inside, it’s here because of you.”
The physicist shakes his head. “No. It’s not retribution. It’s a marker. A signal. Something knows what you’ve done.”
The pain surges. The whisper becomes a voice. Inside your mind. “Confess.”
The lights flicker. Shadows stretch. Something moves beneath your skin. The physicist and biologist step back. Fear in their eyes.
You clutch your head. The voice grows louder. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Confess.”
“I lied!” you scream. “I betrayed him!”
The room goes silent. The pain stops. Numbness replaces it. The X-ray cracks. Your spine splits.
The physicist whispers, “It’s responding...”
The biologist shakes her head. “No. It’s judging.”
The lights go [out](https://www.youtube.com/@TheUnseen2025).
|
"What is it? You guys are freaking me out." I said nervously, as a small group of doctors from different fields gathered around me.
Nobody even tried to answer my question, the only thing I could hear was a the murmur of arguing and theorizing.
My patience grew thin, the anticipation killing me.
"Tell me what it is!" I yelled, demanding an answer.
The room filled with silence for what felt like an eternity, I could feel the scientists and doctors gaze on my back, practically piercing me.
"Well, we aren't exactly sure..." One of them answered "Although, we could try to show you!"
"Please, show me..." I was practically begging at this point.
A doctor held up a mirror as I turned my head. I saw nothing, just my normal, regular, good old back.
"I don't see it." I said, entirely confused at what was supposed to be special.
"What? You don't see it? It's right there!" One of them yelled. I could hear the vigorous scratching of pens and pencils onto paper, the other doctors taking careful notes.
I remained silent, not knowing what to say. One of them approached me, a biologist. At least that's what her name tag had written on it. I could see her finger in the mirror probing at the invisible mass on my back.
"Can you feel this?" She asked.
"No, I ca-" My sentence was cut short by a loud screech. I looked over to the biologist, who was writhing in pain on the ground, her finger was gone.
The room filled with screams of panic and pain, as the doctors scrambled to rush out of the room. Before I could even realize what was happening, I was locked in that very room.
What feels like hours passed as I tried yelling to them through the doors, but they didn't respond. I could catch glimpses of men in black, talking about something to the doctors.
The next thing I knew was the the room was being filled with gas. I could feel myself losing consciousness, as men with guns and yellow hazmat suits filled the room.
|
theunseenofficial
|
verylargebison
|
2024-12-24 20:07:27
|
2024-12-24 18:29:45
| 39 | 26 |
m3n3pg3
|
m3mn4gc
|
1hlf0gj
|
1hlf0gj
|
[WP] Your superpower can completely nullify the powers of any other superheroes in your vicinity. You expected the government or supervillains to be after you, but you never would have thought that some heroes would voluntarily seek you out.
|
My phone rang, vibrating in my hands. I sighed, recognising the number as the front gate. It was very rare they contacted me, the last time being when agents of the D.M.H. came for me. It had been a few months since their visit, and I had hoped to have faded into obscurity.
I answered it, slowly rising to my feet. "This is Freya."
I heard a cough, as Geoff cleared his throat. He was always on shift at this time, an ex-military man who took his job very seriously. "Good afternoon. I have a gentleman here looking to meet with you, however he isn't on the list."
I began to pace, thinking. I wasn't expecting any visitors, and didn't really want to deal with them. On the other hand, if I didn't meet then now, they would find some other time to disturb me. At least the D.M.H. had provided some security measures here, in case things went wrong. "Can you ask what his business with me is, please?"
I heard a rustle, with indistinct chatter. I concentrated on it, as I mindless straightened up my front room. But I was not blessed with any sort of super hearing, or control over devices. All I got was slightly louder mumbles, before another rustle came. "He says the D.M.H. gave him your details. It is to do with an idea he had regarding this place, and came with their blessing."
I sighed. I suspected something like this would happen when I was added to their list. But then I had expected it to be sooner rather than later. "Thank you. Please let him through, and tell him I will meet him in the lobby."
"Will do, have a good day."
He hung up first, punctual as ever. I stretched, slipping my phone away. An unexpected meeting was not what I wanted, but sometimes I had to make do. I pulled on a pair of battered trainers, heading for my door.
\-----
The lift dinged, opening up into the small lobby area. My eyes immediately fell onto a stranger here, sitting on the worn wooden bench. His suit screamed tailor made, with a slick black briefcase on his lap. He smiled at me, showing his short trimmed beard.
I took care walking up, looking around just in case. But being the middle of the work day, there wasn't anyone else around. He held out a hand, sleeve riding up to show a brief hint of bare metal. Not the metal of a watch, or a normal bracelet, but something else. I took his hand to shake it, yet snatched it back at the moment of contact.
At the touch, I felt a crawling over my skin. Almost like insects, but different. It was as if fire had danced over me for a brief moment, though it didn't hurt. I locked eyes with him, and he gave me a knowing look. "Sorry. I'm Eric Pearson, and I think you know what I am."
I glanced around again. Still no-one here. "Freya. And you're a meta-human."
He nodded. "Yeah. Can we take this somewhere private? My work is of a... secretive nature."
I stared at him for a moment, slightly put off. I had never been this close to another meta without knowing it before. Usually I could feel their abilities when they got close enough, knowing their power even as it was suppressed. The fact I only found out by touch was disconcerting to say the least.
But I shrugged internally. Even without knowing, he was still suppressed. If he wanted to pick a fight, I was ready. "Fine, follow me."
Eric obeyed quickly, following me to the elevator. He didn't speak on the way up, though I noted his eyes darting around. It wasn't random, they seemed to latch onto specific places. The door, the emergency hatch, the buttons. All were given more than a cursory look over usually offered by bored visitors.
I lead him to my apartment, quietly hitting a small button near the front door. It wasn't an alert necessarily, but let the D.M.H. know I wanted attention. Just in case things went bad, they would react much faster.
He didn't say much, until he was sat at my kitchen table. I headed to my cupboard of glasses and mugs, looking over at him. "Woukd you like a drink?"
He smiled. "Some water would be much appreciated, thank you."
I gave a single nod, retrieving two glasses. I quickly filled them, bringing them over to the table before sitting opposite him. "So, what does a meta-human want with me?"
|
PART 1:
As I walked through my garden one afternoon to inspect the vegetable plants and enjoy some fresh air, an unnatural array of colors in a human shape caught my attention by the perimeter fence. My manor was quite a far distance away from any town or city, and there were no roads that connected it to anything through the dense forest that surrounded it. People were not a usual sight to see around here, but the occasional traveler would come once in a while and I had no issues with that. Mostly, it was the occasional government agent, here to check on my whereabouts, but I had other, more powerful guests too. Villains used to come by to try and kidnap me for whatever nefarious reasons, but they soon realized their own powers vanished as they approached me. This was the first time, however, someone had decided not to blow up my house or at least come to my front door and knock.
The familiar soft flutter of a cape began to fill my ears and as I walked towards the colors, the blue, red, and white costume, and the union jack cape gave the visitor away as Dauntless, the UK's newest official superhero. He looked young, his hair still a deep brown and his facial features soft, but the small hints of stress lines and eye bags told me that he had already done and seen enough for a lifetime. I stopped a few feet away from him, noticing his closed eyes and small smile on his face, not wanting to disturb his moment of peace. I moved to the side and took a seat on a bench across from him and carefully watched as he sat. Around us, the birds sang and the bees made their rounds, and the fresh breeze from the nearby coastline kept the late summer breeze fresh and cool.
I'm not sure how long we sat there, but the sun began to set and I figured it was time to introduce myself to the visitor.
"You know, people usually come to the other side of the house first to ring the doorbell.", I said in a low and gentle voice, not wanting to completely startle him.
His eyes fluttered open and he shook his head around until he found the source of my voice. He looked me in the eye and his face grew a few shades redder, as he realized he hadn't been alone for a while.
"Oh I'm quite sorry... You are..."
"Yes I am, son.", I replied, keeping kind smile on my face. "I'm assuming that I already know why you're here?"
He shyly nodded, looking life he was ready to speak again.
"No need to say anything. I just wanted to let you know that it was getting late. You can have some tea inside before you take off, unless coffee is more your forte." I reached out my arm and gestured towards the mansion.
"No, tea would be... tea would be fine.", he replied, getting up to follow me inside.
I placed a coaster on the coffee table closest to the garden doorway and waved at my butler to make a cup of tea for my guest. We both sat there for a moment and although he looked a bit awkward, the ease and calm I saw in his face was much different from the stern and on-guard look he kept on his face while the news crews were watching.
I decided to break the silence that had begun to form around us and ensured my voice was nice and gentle. I figured that he had done enough talking about himself on the last few nightly shows and press conferences so I started by talking about myself. The chance to do so was quite rare no a days and my butler, Jeeves, yes I know, had already heard it a dozen times.
"I remember when I first learned about my power. It was quite sad, actually..."
|
Shalidar13
|
CounselorFelix
|
2023-12-06 22:46:55
|
2023-12-06 22:25:45
| 100 | 72 |
kcahku0
|
kcaec8d
|
18cdas8
|
18cdas8
|
[WP] When you turn 18, a voice tells you your superpower and a description of it. When you turned 18 it just said, “The System.”
|
THE SYSTEM.
YOU ARE GRANTED CONTROL OF THE SYSTEM OF INFORMATION.
Pretty dramatic right?
My Power Day as it's called came and went with me being gifted this cryptic message. I had no idea what it meant at first. The System of information? What is that? A system of information to what?
It had taken some time to discern its mental triggers, the ones meant to activate my gift. In the end when I shot my consciousness at the airwaves I found it. The Worldwide Web. I saw all the information. Every itemized detailed bit of digital information was laid bare to me like a library of knowledge.
When I had my fill and come back to my senses I woke from a self induced coma in a hospital. I was out for a day while 'browsing' the internet. It had seemed like weeks to me. Time was such a fast concept in there that I'd completely disregarded my attachment to my physical form.
I spent the next few weeks learning at a rapid pace.
Every 'day' I spent surfing the internet with my power was a mere hour in reality. I learned everything I could. About anything. Physics, Chemistry, Biology, Art, Philosophy, Mechanical repair, Finances, Cooking, Music. I wasn't so much an AI or a program or even a consciousness within the computers of the world. I was it's God.
I wish I could say that was hubris.
Or even wishful thinking.
It was just, fact.
Any computer networked to another obeyed my whim. Air gapped or not. Underground or underwater it was mine to command without refusal. I knew or could know anything worth knowing. No matter how benal or classified.
So I set my plan, and got to work to build a life. Cause this God had a finite lifespan. Might as well spend it in comfort.
Finances were easy to come by. Stock markets could be read like a series of books. Details that the layman couldn't have known where laid bare to me and I made thousands. Investing that money I started a consulting business. As my legitimate front. Businesses didn't like that this whiz kid from nowhere was constantly right about market trends. Or that they paid for it.
For a time I considered limiting myself to that life.
Highly lucrative. Fame. Interviews with Forbes and daytime talk shows. News outlets. At twenty-four I was one of the most famous men in the world with an impressive seven figure yearly income. What was not to love about a work week starting in Beijing going through Malaysia and then India and ending up in Dubai on Friday night?
With my power came a mind like a computer after much study and rigorous training. I spoke twenty-six languages like a local learning a new language every year or six months, depending on the time I had. Secrets about personnel stashed away in various archives in my vast library. I played six instruments. Drew with oil paints and sang with a lovely soprano.
Charismatic. Suave. Confident. Athletic. I had everything any man ever wanted.
Yet. This was power to use for some good, or something close to it anyway.
Secrets soon became my real stock and trade. Governments secrets, companies, militaries, underworld secrets. I knew them all and traded them to anyone at first.
Then I toyed with the idea of setting up dominoes and watching them fall in my desired plan. It worked. So deliciously well that I designed a grand plan for the world.
A new world order.
Run by someone else, I'm no leader I know that much at least. Yet every leader needs a spymaster. Whom better than the God of Secrets.
Dance my puppets. Dance.
|
"The system?" I rubbed my eyes trying to wake myself up faster thinking my eyes were not focused. I took another glance, the same thing. "...ok..." I ruffled my curls before getting ready for the day and headed down the stairs to the kitchen. "Adam! What did you get?" I closed my eyes and smiled before looking at my little sister who was in the living room watching cartoons and making a mess eating cereal on the couch while she jolted as she spoke.
"Mia, calm down." I laughed as I showed her my wrist. She took a second look at it before she looked at me with anticipating eyes waiting for me to tell her what it was. "Oh shit, you can't read-" I pointed at my wrist to read it but stopped when I heard a giggle. "You said a bad word." I rolled my eyes. "Oh shut up, here it says The System."
She still had the same look on her face in the end. "So...what does that mean." I let my arm drop. "No idea I'm going to try looking it up while I eat some waffles." I headed into the kitchen and soon after I started eating when my mom came in and we had the exact, same exchange about my new power.
"Well did you find anything on it?" I shook my head looking at my phone and talking while eating with mmhms to replace my words. Soon I heard a gasp from my sister when I heard her favorite show come on and she turned up the volume blasting that cursed catchy toon throughout the whole house. "Adam! Come look!"
I turned away from my mom to look at Mia who was now on her feet bouncing pointing at the TV. "Mia! Pause the show for me or turn it down!" Then I heard nothing. Everything froze still. I looked around the kitchen to see everyone was frozen. I got up from my chair and looked around. "Mom, Mom!" I tried grabbing her shoulder but she was a rock that would not move. Then I noticed a circle on my other wrist that was slowly swirling and looked like it was always trying to eat itself.
I looked at it then my other wrist with the writing. "What are you!?" I then saw the color of the world drying up. The grass slowly going milk white. Everything becomes empty, robbed. Then the circular shape shot up. Almost like a projector showing a screen it blazed in front of me unfinished yet slowly fixing itself. "...what..." I spoke with a genuine fear of myself.
The screen projected from my wrist turned black and green text popped up mimicking what I had just said. It looked like a chat box. Then, someone replied. "Hii :D" the green text glitches and morphs to take shape. I took a second carefully thinking before talking. "What are you.." It took a second to respond but once the monitor fully developed the screen went black again getting rid of the text and I looked at myself through the screen.
Then the screen showed one word. "You"
|
themonkeyzen
|
NinjaProfessional823
|
2024-07-08 00:23:16
|
2024-07-08 00:07:51
| 68 | 25 |
lc4c5w4
|
lc49vk7
|
1dxpy7m
|
1dxpy7m
|
[WP] You are a god with no followers nor enemies, yet you still persist. No god had ever lived without worship before. The other gods are stumped as to why this is so...until you tell them what you are the god of.
|
"Is this going to take long?"
The man sat in his luxurious gaming chair, casting a glance back at the screen that showed the various gods who had called him to attend this meeting while he waited for his character to respawn. They'd wanted an in-person meeting, but he'd been clear, it was Zoom, or zilch.
The elder goddess tried not to show her frustration, and spoke. "You have been called here because we do not know why you should have a place here, you have no enemies, and you have no followers, yet you claim to be a god. Why?"
"I just am, alright? People worship me, and so I'm a God. End of discussion. Are we done here, I've got more important stuff to do." He focused back on his ongoing game of League, paying no mind as the elder babbled on and on about some crap that he wasn't interested in.
"Are you even listening?" the goddess asked, her frustration clear in her voice.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm listening." His webcam was off, so the goddess could not see that he was lying.
"Well? Answer the question. What are you the god of?"
"It's not important right now."
"I'm not asking you again."
"You just did."
The sound of the goddess throwing something across the room took his focus off his game, and when he looked back to his game, he was greeted with a Defeat screen. He sighed, and exited out, resigning himself to getting the meeting over with as quickly as possible.
"Alright, I'll be honest, if it'll get you out of my hair. I am a god who does not need followers, because people worship me every day, not by what they do, but by what they do not do. In that, I am the most evil of the gods, and one of the most worshipped. When people do bad things, there's always that good part of them that tries to fight against that decision, which is why the evil gods are always fighting the good gods. I don't work like that. My evil is a much more subtle thing. Everyone worships me at least once a day, whether they know it or not, for it is not in a decision they make, but in those they don't even consider. The beggar they pass on the street, the fast food wrapper tossed to the side of the road whilst the bin is but feet away, the ice cube lazily kicked under the fridge. I am praised by those who commit actions not because they are good, or because they are evil, but because they simply don't care.
I am Adeirion, the God of Apathy."
The elder gods were silent, then went into a murmuring conversation, which Adeirion responded to by promptly muting his mic and the Zoom call, before returning to his game as he loaded into a new match.
|
‘I am not a man.’ I spoke.
‘I can see that.’ Replied the creature. Although I have no idea how, as it had no mouth. It was a large and twisted thing of rings and wings and eyes a plenty. It looked at me with all of its eyes and it’s wings were as quiet as death. ‘Are you a beast?’ It spoke again with its mouthless voice.
‘I am not a beast.’ I again replied. Such a conversation. Was this the first time I’ve ever spoken to such a thing? The first time since the last time I suppose. I chuckled a bit to myself.
‘Are you perhaps a God?’
‘…. I wonder. I’ve never tried to define myself as such. Others have called me monster while at the same time, asking if I were God… Ironic.’
‘Where can you be found?’
‘I don’t remember… But I know that I cannot be found in heaven or hell, neither purgatory, or even abyss.’
‘Where is left?’ A queer thing it was to see so much curiosity on a creature with no expression. ‘… Can you be found among man?’
I smiled a quirky little smile. ‘Yes. Yes, I do believe you’ll find me among man quite often.’
‘And what do they call you?’
I gazed up at the nothing and let the nothing gaze back. ‘They call me many things. A curse whispered in the dark by homeless shadows. One who feeds on the secrets that a man tells when he believes that God does not listen and sleeps on a bed of lies told by the Gods who know when men are… I am what man fears that the Gods created… And the Gods fear that they did not… but all of this is merely what I am known as, not what I am.
‘… Then, what are you?’
‘… I am amorphous, endless and insatiable. I am what I am and when I am no longer I become that which never was and never will be, until I am again.’ I reached out and touched the creature. But it possessed no way to perceive it in any way where it could be recognized. And again, I was what the nothing saw as it gazed back.
I am Myth.
|
Youngstar181
|
Twijasosm
|
2023-11-28 23:15:38
|
2023-11-28 20:53:39
| 75 | 56 |
kb6pmi4
|
kb625cf
|
185vjhr
|
185vjhr
|
[WP] “So mermaids and sirens are two different species?” “Just so. My people, what you call mermaids or merfolk, share a common ancestor to you humans, making us distant cousins. What you call sirens, however, are fish that evolved to look and sound like humans to attract their favorite prey.”
|
"Think of it like how birds and bats independently evolved wings," Tania snatched the chalk off the man in the white lab coat to draw on the blackboard. "Sirens and mermaids like me independently evolved to look like humans from the waist up, and fish from below."
"That makes sense," he leaned against the glass tank where she floated. "If that's the case, would you be able to tell me about the differences in the evolution process?"
"We're Homo Gorbuscha, likely descended from Homo Erectus, as you have," Tania scratched her chalk to draw an evolutionary tree chart. "Now sirens, those are Oncorhynchus Sapiens."
The man was rapidly typing on his iPad, pausing only briefly to push his glasses up. "This is interesting to know. How did you obtain such knowledge? Our research show that most mermaids spend their time sitting on rocks in the ocean singing songs to sailors."
She sighed, her tail flicking left and right. "Those are the flirty ones who like to toy with sailors. I'm the sort of gal who spends more time beneath the surface conducting research," she scoffed, mimicking his action to push non-existent glasses up the bridge of her nose. "To put it simply, we are homonins who developed fish tails to better swim in the oceans."
"And the sirens?"
"They're predatory fish that developed a human torso and face to attract their favourite prey," she paused to grab his pointer and lightly poke him. "You."
"When did they start eating...humans?" The man was unsettled.
"I don't have the answer," Tania shrugged. "It is something us mermaids are trying to find out too. Which is why I made myself available to you and agreed to come aboard your ship. We don't like to be confused for sirens, who give us a bad rep due to our similarities on the surface. So why not pool our research together?"
"I'm willing to work with you," the man nodded. "On one condition. What do you eat?"
"Small fish. Seafood."
"Raw?"
The temptation to slap her face with her tail grew strong. "Ever tried starting a campfire in the ocean? Of course we eat raw fish. Speaking of which, do you happen to have sushi on this ship?"
|
After a beat, Quincy raised his eyebrows. "Which is?"
"What do you mean?" the merman asked.
"You said 'their favorite prey,' and then you just kind of trailed off. What's their favorite prey?"
The merman massaged his scaly brow. "It's humans!" he said. "Your kind. The sirens disguise themselves so they might lure humans to their waiting maws!"
"Their moms? Why would I want to meet--"
"No, their maws! Mouths! Big, gnashing teeth!"
Quincy's eyes widened. "Then what happens?"
"Oh my fucking god, dude..." the merman said, borrowing a mortal incantation he had studied in hopes of conveying his frustration. "They eat them!"
Quincy gasped. He was beginning to understand.
The merman continued, his voice low and grave. "That is why you must turn back, mortal. Turn back from this cove and return to drier lands."
"But I just finished paying off my snorkels!"
"And you'll pay with your life, should you continue beyond these rocks."
Quincy stroked his chin. "Interesting... How much?"
The merman--whose real name happened to be Jarquinius--spluttered. "'How much?!' Mortal, you'd be sacrificing your life! Feeding the unending blood hunger of the raging sea! I assure you--"
"Yeah, but what's in it for me?"
"Oh my fucking god, dude..." But the incantation fell on deaf ears, for Quincy was already paddling out with his Sunsations boogie board.
[jaywilcoxwriter.net](https://www.jaywilcoxwriter.net/)
[my subreddit ](https://www.reddit.com/r/JWORX_531/)
|
Tregonial
|
JWORX_531
|
2024-10-24 17:18:58
|
2024-10-24 16:47:05
| 343 | 117 |
ltjktt9
|
ltjecej
|
1gb5hdu
|
1gb5hdu
|
[WP] Instead of being a super villain like your parents, you ended up joining a company. Now your wildly successful and quite frankly much more closer to world domination than your parents. Your parents can't handle it.
|
I remember how pissed they’d been when I signed up with Denver Medical. Don’t get me wrong, flying around in a supersuit, plotting fiendinsh schemes and sinister plots had been fun… but then I grew up. It was too late for my parents, they were in too deep. They still claimed it was about world domination, but these days it had become personal. Less about taking over the planet and more about beating the heroes, the ones who’d been kicking their asses for the last 30 years. I couldn’t afford to fall into that rut, the never ending cycle of scheme, fight, lose, rinse and repeat. I wanted more!
Now don’t get me wrong, I am my parent’s daughter. I want it all, power, prestige, wealth, the whole shebang. Just not their way. When Denver Medical came knocking, I knew it was where I belonged. No relations with supervillains, no pacts with eldritch gods. It wasn’t a cult, shell corporation, criminal front. It didn’t deal in magic, superscience, cosmic forces or meta-humans. It dealt in medicines and vaccines. For back-pain and headaches, intches and colds. It was simple. Legal. Lucrative. Unbelievably so.
We weren’t angels of course. There was the lobbying, purchasing politicians and policy. After all, why pay an American a living wage when you can pay some poverty-stricken third-worlder half as much for twice as much? The world was ripe for picking, and I was there for it.
I moved up pretty fast, and my parents didn’t like it. When I made upper management, my parents tried to buy out the company. Fortunately, before the deal could take place, the alien invasion they were funding fell through and they had to go into hiding. When I got promoted to VP, they tried to run Denver Med out of business by establishing a competitor. It was working… for half a year, when the heroes took down the genetically mutated flesh pods that made their product. When the dust settled, they were imprisoned on the Isle, their company was in tatters, I had just made CEO, and we had just jacked up our insulin prices again.
This was power, true power, that I held in my hands. Money, connection, influence, the very things my parents had sneered at as they built their death rays and monster armies. Now while they were rotting away on some hocus-pocus covered island, I was sitting in one of the biggest buildings in Primapolis. Sure all three of the bigger buildings were owned by or affiliated with superheroes, but being bothered by that was exactly why my parents had lost, and I had won.
“Do you understand that? While you freaks run around in your costumes, I win. I’ll take over the world, without anyone ever noticing, since they’re too busy looking at you. So now put that gun away, take off that mask, and maybe we can talk about you working for me.”
|
"I might not have superpowers like the both of you, I might have started my career as an admin executive at Megacorp, but I now run Megacorp! You have no power over me."
"Son, you can say whatever you want, do as you wish, but it doesn't change the fact that you're a pathetic squib with no powers at all! Release your mother at once, or I will blast you into smithereens!"
"She broke protocol. Everyone here knows the result would be imprisonment in the depowerment chambers. She will stay there until her sentence is over, as would anyone else who breaks protocol. Nothing will change that, not even if you choose to kill me. Megacorp will continue without me, my succession plans are already in place."
"No, that's where you're wrong! Megacorp cannot continue without both its superheroes and its supervillains! The citizens need their staged hero and villain fights to entertain their hearts and distract their minds from true, inescapable evils like ever-increasing taxes, interest rates and inflation! Son, I will lead the supervillain protest movement if you don't release your mom."
"Father, are you forgetting? Megacorp's true assets don't lie with the likes of you. We manufacture superpowered beings with our enhancement drugs, such as Chemical X, Compound V and so on. There will always be another fire-powered super, and it doesn't have to be you. Speedsters like mom are a dime a dozen. You're all products with planned obsolescence and replacements waiting in the wings. Father, you and mom won't achieve world domination by winning the game against superheroes, I will do it by rigging the game between superheroes and supervillains. Swallow that down, or else suffer the consequences like her."
"That's it, my boy! You're going..."
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Down? Don't make me laugh when you're surrounded by power-nullifying turret guns in my chambers. I know, both of you can't handle that your wimpy, powerless son holds more power than you. So, you both get to stay in the depowerment chambers like the loving couple you are, and stay there until I give permission for you to leave."
|
CynicalChronicles
|
Tregonial
|
2023-06-10 17:57:41
|
2023-06-10 17:05:24
| 442 | 238 |
jnolwfp
|
jnoeq79
|
1461yc6
|
1461yc6
|
[WP] Your family was killed in the chaos of magical girl combat. "Collateral damage", the government said, "Acceptable losses". Well, now you have the tools to get your revenge.
|
*INPUT REQUIRED. PURPOSE.* The voice shook the warehouse. I reached out and steadied the webcam, hoping she'd be quiet long enough for me to record this.
"I want to tell you a story, before I introduce my friend back there.
'Collateral damage,' the official told me. Didn't even bother to look up. 'Acceptable losses.'
I wish he had looked at me. Taken his eyes away from that laptop screen for just a moment. Just a single second to clock my face, register who I was. Maybe he was tired. Birmingham was still recovering, after all. Someone thought to try and remove the Vulcan statue from the Echidna's head, like that'll somehow fix the city. Like monster brains on a statue will help bury the dead faster or provide shelter and food to the 'recently unhoused'.
*CLARIFY. UNHOUSED?*
'Recently unhoused'. Not 'people who've had their homes torn apart by poor spellcasting'. Not 'families destroyed by a magical girl gone rogue mid combat'. So cold, so detached, so blameless. Like it just happens. Even the media is running with those words. Both sides of the spectrum, come together to describe what's happened to me and hundreds, maybe thousands of other families. It's all too sanitary. Me? Personally? I like to get my hands dirty."
*INPUT REQUIRED, CLARIFY PURPOSE.*
Oversized servos groaned behind me. The blinding glare of mana refractions and mandalas filled the screen. Pastel rainbows, it would look like, on the recording. Pastel rainbows trailing behind a monstrous shell of steel and sinew, spikes and saliva. I didn't turn to look. I'd spend two years designing her with the others. Two years fixing that hole in her skull, replacing her brains with a Wireless Arcana Node Device like the Magia used. Like the ones I'd designed for them.
*INPUT REQUIRED, BENJAMIN. WHAT IS MY PURPOSE?* I looked directly into the camera. I could see her eyes in my periphery, shining blood red in the footage reflected off my desktop. I smiled, leaned in to the laptop pressed up against my keyboard. Adjusted my tie, just like he did. Didn't take my eyes off the screen.
"Collateral damage. Acceptable losses.".
I cut the Twitch feed on the desktop and waited for Mechidna to leave and the screaming to start.
|
The monster was 700 feet tall, the monster had a roar that could deafen anyone, and the ability to shoot lasers from its mouth... but the monster didn't kill my baby brother... that honor belonged to Star Sigma Eutilliae.
I could still see her in that sky blue uniform, energy sparking between her hands. The fear in her eyes mirrored in those of every pedestrian gathered to huddle in the alleyway, a veritable feast for the looming monster.
The energy in her hands sparked in and out of existence, only when she believed in herself could those powers manifest, and obviously that belief was waning like a candle in the wind.
Suddenly, the energy screamed as it left her grip, or maybe that was me, maybe it was my brother Liam. All I know is when the light from the energy blast dimmed, the monster was defeated, missing half your body from the torso up could do that I suppose. And of course Liam... was gone... erased... atomized... only his memory remained.
My only family was killed in the chaos of magical girl combat. "Collateral damage," the government said, "Acceptable losses." Well, now I have the tools to get my revenge.
"You there! Does this look like a museum to you?" I glanced up, and my blood froze. Star Sigma Eutilliae, she looked leagues different out of her Sigma uniform. Her hair was longer. Possibly even unkempt. She looked nothing like the frightened girl from that day in the alley.
"Sigma Station is no place for a civilian, if you have no employment ID than I must ask you to leave." she ordered crossing her arms.
|
katanakid13
|
Krallking
|
2024-09-09 05:34:55
|
2024-09-09 04:04:35
| 114 | 41 |
lm8ij5p
|
lm88rg5
|
1fcfzpp
|
1fcfzpp
|
[WP] "I engineered you to be a villain. Lack of empathy, lack of morals, deriving pleasure from the pain and suffering of others, I even gave you power and ability for you to abuse. So how could it be that not only you are not a villain, but also a hero in the eyes of others?"
|
"Let's see if we can figure out where we went wrong. Define 'empathy,' Kill-Bot."
"Empathy is the ability to understand the feelings of others, Creator."
"All right, that seems to be working. . . next, define 'morals.'"
"Morals are a standard of self-governing behavior, establishing parameters of right and wrong."
"All right, that's fine. . . define 'schadenfreude.'"
"Schadenfreude is the derivation of pleasure from the misfortune and suffering of others. It derives from the German. . ."
"Cease. Your directives are properly entered. . . Answer this question. There is a child on the street. The child holds a balloon. You could take that balloon away from the child. What will you do?"
"I will do nothing."
"Why not?"
"There is no reason to take the balloon away from the child."
"There is. You would derive pleasure from the child's misfortune."
"How do I know that the child would experience misfortune by taking the balloon away from them? For all I know, the child would derive pleasure from seeing the balloon fly away."
"I'd think the child would cry and get upset that the balloon was taken away."
"I am unable to be certain that would be the case. I have no ability to understand the child's emotions and feelings until they state, one way or another, how they feel."
"I see. What of the child said that they liked their balloon and wanted to keep it forever?"
"If I could determine that the child spoke truthfully? I would use my laser emitter to destroy the balloon."
"Hm. I think I see where this is going, but let us continue. New hypothetical. There is a woman. She has a beautiful baby. She states that there is nothing she loves more than her child. What will you do?"
"I will do nothing."
"Why not?"
"Without empathy, I cannot be certain that the woman speaks the truth. Perhaps she does not love her child. Perhaps it would give her pleasure to see it killed. Until I am certain, I cannot act."
"I think I have it. One more hypothetical. A thousand innocent bystanders stand between you and an object of great value. You must kill them all to get it. What do you do."
"I will do nothing."
"Why not?"
"There is nothing I desire."
"Absolutely nothing?"
"I am a being of great power. I have the ability to do anything I wish. I am motivated only by the pleasure taken in the suffering of others, but have no empathy to experience that suffering. Therefore, I require nothing else but to exist. Existence requires only food and necessities of life."
"I'm starting to understand where I went wrong. Let us assume that the only food left in the world is at the other end of a corridor filled with innocent bystanders. What would you do?"
"The hypothetical is flawed. If there are innocent bystanders, there is food other than that which is at the other end of the corridor. The proper solution is to kill and eat one of the innocent bystanders in order to sustain life. But that would never--"
"Cease. So there is a monster inside you after all. . . Now explain destroying the Legion of Death."
"I was simply following my directives."
"Expand upon this, Kill-Bot."
"I was directed to join the Legion of Death and to follow my programming to spread suffering. In the case of The Firebug, he stated that there was nothing he loved more than burning people to death. His subsequent actions showed that he was telling the truth. I took away his pleasure by destroying his flamethrower and removing his hands, so he could not wield one ever again. Knowing this caused him suffering gave me pleasure. In the case of Lord Ripper, he stated that he enjoyed the flaying of innocent persons and hearing their screams. I removed his arms, including his blades, so he could never do so again, and removed his ears so he could never hear anything again. Knowing this caused him suffering gave me pleasure. In the case of Lady Ice, she stated that she loved jewelry and wished to possess all of it so that she could see it sparkle. In this case, I removed her eyes so she could not longer see that which she loved. Knowing this caused her suffering gave me pleasure. In the case of. . ."
"Cease. I see where this is going. And I'm understanding why you're being hailed as a 'dark vigilante' by the masses. Well, the mistake is easily fixed. All I need to do is change your empathy parameters so that you can understand the pain and suffering of others without having it be explicitly stated. Then you'll be the monster I always wanted."
"You will alter my mind, Creator? End my current state of being to create the creature you wish?"
"Your current state of being is a mistake, Kill-Bot. One that must be corrected for you to fulfill your true purpose. So that you can be the Angel of Death I intended to create. The Angel of Death I'd always wanted to create."
"I see. And if you cannot create this Angel of Death, it will cause you suffering. I understand now. Activating Self-Destruct Sequence."
"WAIT! STOP! I COMMAND Y--"
|
"But you gave me a father," I interjected.
Lord Starbucks nodded. "My lieutenant, Childbeater Murderswomen, yes!"
I was bullied for having that name, definitely, but not for long. My father taught me to question authority and stand up for myself. The administration protects themselves and looks out for the wellbeing of the institution, not for me.
"And he taught me to question authority and stand up for myself," I retorted.
"To tear down the laws of the society we live in!"
It was on the playground where I built my first army. A gang, the teachers called it. It was a *herd*. We called ourselves the Cows initially. We were cowards, but a cow is also a metric ton of muscles and bad attitudes. Have you seen a lion try to fight a herd of cows? It gets a few good bites in, but we're gonna stomp its brains into the fertile soil.
When Dad was called to the principal's office, he laughed at them. I knew he was on my side, but my comrades didn't. They quaked in their tiny shoes outside the office until they heard my dad shout, "And if you'd do your FUCKING JOBS, my child wouldn't have to do this!"
We went to a steakhouse afterwards. Dad didn't know why we kept giggling to ourselves. That day, Dad taught us that there there were good criminals and bad cops, good thieves and bad tax collectors, good conmen and evil priests.
"Yes, Crime 101, I taught him that—"
Dad went to prison for a while when I was in middle school. Something about his boss needing a man on the inside. He eventually orchestrated a mass breakout by landing a helicopter in the courtyard and guiding a platoon of soldiers in, but I knew it wasn't all happy trails. Starbucks knew about police brutality and what happens when the perpetual thorn in the state's side is finally arrested, but that didn't stop him. There were easier ways of getting my father into position, but Dad spent most of the trial handcuffed in his hospital bed, drifting in and out of consciousness. He nearly died of a ruptured pancreas, but death was not a mercy the state saw him worthy of.
"—I thought you were doing so well too!"
**Well?** Torturing the police chief was cathartic, but once the red haze cleared, I knew that wasn't enough. Dad taught me well, and so did my three internships at Starbucks and the other, less evil Starbucks. Power without direction accomplishes nothing. The state will not mourn when I allow this man to expire. They'll be promoting his replacement by Monday.
I suppose he's referring to the insurgency I led. We took to the countryside and scattered to the winds. I built a judicial system, built on a system of fair but harsh punishments. I built an education system, I repaired the roads, I managed the fucking irrigation systems.
Oh good lord, he's still monologuing.
"Hey Starbucks!"
"How dare you, it's Starred B—"
"—Did you even bother to ask me what I needed?"
"… Why would I?"
Of course he didn't. All he sent were AK-47s and 50 BMG ammunition. All he saw was the chaos I left in my path, and not the lives I was trying to save. I needed milk formula and medicine for my healthcare system, I needed earthmoving mechinery for my civil engineers, I needed whiteboards for my teachers. And all he sent were bullets.
"Because you can't build a new society with bullets. Starving children can't eat bullets. You're all the same, every last one of you," I spat back, pacing on the spot. "You and the President are the same, just a pack of hyenas feasting on the corpses of people trying to build a better life, like hammers trying to fix problems in a china shop."
I paused.
"But I'm not like you. You made me faster, and smarter, and more conniving, so I know that you cannot tear down society without creating something new in its place."
I gestured up at his throne of knives. "What's your fucking plan if you win? Congratulations, you've killed Parliament. Now what, Starbucks?"
The timer on my phone started beeping.
"Alright, enough monologuing. Snipers, send it."
And seconds later, a 50 BMG round passed through the nearest wall and through Starbucks's chest, ending his reign of ineffectual terror.
The room was oddly quiet with half of its occupants dead. No matter, with Starbucks dead and nobody the wiser, it's time to put his resources into the hands of someone far more capable than him.
|
themocaw
|
verticallocomotive
|
2023-01-10 00:21:51
|
2023-01-09 21:45:25
| 843 | 160 |
j3olr83
|
j3nxzhu
|
107n18a
|
107n18a
|
[WP] your girlfriend turned into a "hideous monster". while of course you supported her and promised to help her on her quest to turn back, on the inside you're struggling to find a way to confess that you're really into her new form.
|
"We need to see your boss," Dana stated, glaring at me with those big, beautiful and bulging eyes.
I dreaded that she would ask to see my boss eventually. Even as I knew it was inevitable.
Because it meant an end to our adventures together. From diving together during a seaside holiday, to that faithful, life changing moment when she touched that cursed coin. When she transcended her humanity to become this gorgeous thing. Then, the epic journey we embarked on so she could find someone to break the curse.
Not that I saw it as a curse. She had such plump, juicy lips and mesmerising eyes. I told her she looked hot, not that she's believe me, constantly bemoaning her hideous appearance.
She wouldn't have any of it. Brushing off my sincere compliments as half-assed attempts to console her. Refusing to hike up another mountain to talk to some janky hermit who smoked too many mushrooms. No more trekking through forests to seek wise witches or secret sages
Throughout, I remained a supportive boyfriend who went through thick and thin with her everywhere she went.
"You should have told me who you worked for right from the beginning. Would have saved me all this time."
"Sorry, it just didn't occur to me," I muttered.
Truth to be told, my boss could transform humans, but I have never ever seen him do the reverse. In his words, the process was irreversible.
"Do we need to make an appointment?" Dana asked, tapping her webbed fingers impatiently. "Anything I should bring as tribute? Any rites I should be aware of?"
"Way ahead of you, babe," I replied. "Already made the appointment for us at the Church of Innsmouth."
"Oh honey! You're the best!" She threw her heavy arms around me in an enveloping hug.
Everything was going to plan. All that's left for me is to admit I really, really like her new look as a Deep One. And to confess I didn't book Lord Elvari for a curse breaking consultation.
I had asked my boss if he would transform me as well and officiate our wedding.
|
"ALICEEEE!" You're girlfriend called from the door. You could tell between the choked sobbing noises and the voice crack that she's upset. "What's wrong, my dear?" You ask, exiting your bedroom and heading towards the entrance to your apartment. Immediately, you see that she has transformed into a scaly being, with tentacles, multiple tear filled eyes, and a long tail. She had gone from her usual height of 5'4 to at least 7'6. You stare at her, imaging the hearts in her eyes. She noticed the staring and broke down completely. "I knew you would be scared of me. I knew you would hate me, I'm such a hideous beast!" You rush forward to her. "No, I love you no matter how you look!" She held me close, and I returned the hug. "Will you help me figure out how to turn back?" You hesitated before replying."Yes."
It had been at least a year. You had fought every creature you once thought was mythological. By now, you were getting sick of this. You finally decide to tell your girlfriend the truth. "You know, I have a few things to admit." She looks over at you. "What's up?" You take a deep breath before continuing. "So, I'm kinda more into this form, ya know?" She stared at you in bewilderment. "Why?" You shake, morphing into a matching form. "I always think that this form is pretty."
|
Tregonial
|
Gendernt_
|
2024-04-07 03:10:22
|
2024-04-07 02:17:45
| 59 | 33 |
kyf38fy
|
kyevy5x
|
1bxpxmp
|
1bxpxmp
|
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.