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[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."
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"Members of the Council, Humanity may be new to the galactic community, but we know how to follow rules. We also know when rules have been broken." The human ambassador adjusted her tie before continuing, "so why were the Thierian ships allowed to track, disable, and board a human transport vessel? A vessel which, I remind you, was not only unarmed but was bringing aid to the homeworld of this Council's chair."
At this, the Chairperson erupted. "Your people detonated their drive core! They vaporized thousands of Thierians in an instant! Why would your people do this?!"
"Humanity has a saying, Councilor: 'Never give up the ship'. We will die before we allow bastards like the Thierians to gain access to our secrets."
The chamber fell silent. No one had dared insult the Thierian people before. They possessed the largest military in the galaxy, easily dwarfing the next 3 races combined. Their laser weaponry could melt ships with ease.
"So," continued the ambassador, "I will restate our demand: reparations of one billion credits paid to each family of the deceased humans. 200 billion credits in all."
"And if we refuse?" Asked the Thierian Councilor, rising on all 6 legs to his full height of 10 feet.
"Then Humanity will collect its debt in blood. And we will collect interest." Her eyes narrowed as she continued. "Your worlds will burn. The races you have enslaved will be freed. We will destroy every ship we come across until we consider the debt paid."
The Thierian Councilor roared with laughter. "You have jokes, human! But none can defeat us! Let us see your best effort to collect your debt!"
"So be it."
|
A recording played over open coms for all to see "This is the captain of the Earth navy vessel Churchill, I regret to inform that our ship is all but lost. We shall go down into the sea of stars with pride worthy of Earth and her Navy. Godspeed Earth in this now unavoidable war."
The coms cut out, the monitoring stations detected a large burst of energy and multiple ships caught in a domino affect of explosions. At the galactic counsel gasps and cries of anguish call out as it had been at least 100 years since the last ship had been downed intentionally let alone crew lost.
The war committee who said humanity would be an easy species to put into submission and force membership on their terms had some explaining to do, unfortunately for now there would be no answer.
The community decided it best to not push further into human space. It seemed that message from the captain was like lighting a fire that couldn't be extinguished, all the infighting they had hoped on had stopped and all of humanity seemed ready to have a similar burial at sea. After two other major battles where seemingly disabled ships disregarded laws of war.
A total of a quarter of the fleet was lost to only 6 ships, which for the humans was almost half of their fleet they decided peace was the better option and setup negotiations, after some terms got arranged they wished try to bring them under the laws of combat. To which the ambassador scoffed at. He stabbed his pen into the table and said "We do not give up the ship, out captains are bounty by duty and pride. You win or you sink." The galactic counsel ambassador said in reply "but that's foolish you could live!" The earthling smirked "It brought you to this table with our tiny fleet and with that let it be known that we would treat earth the same, we do not give up our ships."
The short lived Milky Way War is now a foot note in the history books, but the Earth navy has yet to be challenged since even with it's small size and non-aggressive stance towards anyone who violated their space.
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4thTimesAnAlt
|
boredatworkandtired
|
2023-05-02 14:04:47
|
2023-05-02 07:56:59
| 159 | 116 | null | null |
1354r1x
|
1354r1x
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[WP] You wake up to find out that you've been somehow transported into the world of the last video game you played. Describe your first day.
|
As I come to myself, a cold breeze washes over my naked body. All but a cloth covers me, serving as my underwear, and I scratch my skin, it itches from lying on the dirt.
My eyes are still trying to adjust to the light, while clanging footsteps can be heard in the distance. An all too familiar scene is around me. Behind me a door of a derelict tomb, and in front a rocky clift with a path leading down into a florest. A ruined church can be noticed in the distance, but even farther away on top of a hill I can see stone walls. From the florest it emerges, a gigantic knight in golden armor riding a black horse, carrying a giant spear and shield.
Just over the boulder where it should be, I see no grace. There is no Varre to meet me, after all I'm only human, not tarnished. I am no one of renown, no hero or villain. I know I won't survive. I don't know why I should try to. Having just woken up, I feel the urge to take a leak, and with nobody in sight I piss over some bushes, an eye over the knight and another to my surroundings. Something warm touches my right toes, and I see my pee streaming into my foot, breaking my stance and having me awkwardly readjusting my feet.
With no remarkable skill or survival knowledge, and no clear objective, I steer clear of the knight and try to reach the church where Kale hangs out. My bare feet hurt, I'm not accustomed to walking without shoes, and I'm cold. I constantly hear flying bugs around me, which add to disconfort and have me stroking my arms, legs and back, trying to shoo them away. I try to gather plants so I can sell them to Kale, I guess these are Rowa Fruits? They are far smaller and fewer than I thought, look like guava seeds and smell like wet fallen leafs. I wonder if they are edible but avoid the test for now, and with the fruits in hand I continue on towards the church while the tall grass and bushes scratch against my skin. My knee hurts, I've had two surgeries and poorly recovered, mobility and agility are going to be my biggest handicaps.
I see Kale and his campfire, and some hope refreshes me, but I approach with caution, trying to remember: he is not my friend, he doesn't know me, and I'm no one to him.
"Hello there" I say clumsy, english not being my first language.
He eyes me up and down, and I'm not sure if it's the cold or fear that I'm shivering with.
"Almost mistook you for a tarnished... Or are you? Oh, where are my manners... Good day to you."
"No, I don't think I am... a tarnished. May I sit by your fire? It's cold."
"By the looks of you, I see no harm." - he signals towards the fire - "Then why not, and while you're at it, why not purchase a little something? I am Kale, Purveyor of fine goods."
"Sure, thanks" - I limp towards the fire and sit just a little too close, the heat hurting my legs but my back is still feeling a cold breeze. Kale lays out the usual items he sells in-game
"Do you have something... more basic? I could use some footwear, or a shirt"
" I have these chain leggings and armor, if you can spare 2000 runes" -Kale answers.
"Can we eat this?" I ask, handing out the Rowa Fruits. Kale frowns "- you're not from around here, are you? Most people here have become husks serving or fighting mad kings, but you still have your wits about you... And a kind of innocence."
"No, I'm not... What can you give me for the fruit?"
"10 Runes" he says bluntly.
|
*^(Wake up, Tenno.)*
Numb. Cold. Confused. Last I remember it was nearing 9pm in the afternoon and I was downloading something after having played Warframe to do my usual weeklies.
My arms are folded over my chest. I *feel* sharp. My senses continue to sharpen.
I hear boots. Familiar noises.
...So-
So am I-
The cryopod opens up. I flop out like some suit thing full of foam and land with a strange half-metal clatter.
Unlike before I am not without my wits. I look at him as he speaks.
Vor. Former admiral? Not sure. I clear my throat and decide to ask his name in an ominous manner to catch him off. "Who has awakened me?" I ask.
Vor pauses. Lotus is getting a bit confused but I'm not listening to her right now.
The Grineer leader introduces himself in earnest and explains his mission.
I get up and look at him. "I know of you. An Admiral?" I tilt my head.
He shakes his. "No... Not anymore." He sighs and laments about his failures.
He asks me how I know. I shrug casually and then ask him if he knows of Eternalism.
Somehow this gets him talking, so I end up building an understanding, sabotaging his opinion of his Queens through my casual but eldritch approach.
I manage to snag his Ascaris from him before he could use it when he was in range, then pat him on the shoulder. "I know your story." I continue, letting it sink into him that I have seen him die.
Ingame, I mean. Many times. He wouldn't get it.
I offer to help him with the gene degradation issue in exchange for trying to soften up on his 'colony management' duties, and breaking from the Queens.
I go free. I inform Lotus of my plans.
A few minutes later. I inform Vor of Alad's activities via our equivalent of Skype, and suggest for him to jump in on helping deny Alad V his 'resources'. I expose myself when on the Liset and give Ordis directions to the camp, where my Orbiter is parked.
He finds it and we park there. I get reacquainted with my arsenal, and greet Excalibur Umbra, who had been in vigil with an Eternalism-displaced platoon of Grineer, some Solaris, and Kahl.
The whole camp spanned the section where you had to run from Eidolon Natah, to house and support the huge number of people present.
I then settle into Umbra through Transference. Ordis is having a moment where he's getting a bit meta-aware. I let him pilot the Excal I brought with me after tweaking the bolt thanks to data in the Vitruvian.
Once we're all settled, I decided to pay Vor a visit and go over the campaign agenda again, still deliberately not showing him myself as a Tenno as he has not met my conditions yet.
He's aware that I'm in a unique Excalibur type he's never seen before, and my Liset is Prime and coloured as the frame is. I show him my Gotva and it causes him a nostalgia trip of sorts.
...Alright, change of plans. I'm abducting him. So I literally grab him and run to extraction.
One panicking Grineer moment later, and he's surprised that my Liset has a bit of decor - before I show him around. I've signalled for Kahl to join us under the intent to get Vor to understand while Vor's basically transfixed by the Parace-sheath and Prime pedestals.
Barely half an hour of us exchanging exposition later and Kahl comes along while we're in the lounge. Vor's currently drinking a sort of calming tea to help nurse his headache; he's not used to this angle of the world yet.
Ok. He and Kahl are now debating.
...He's seeing something in Kahl that is causing him to respect his independence. And his headache hasn't diminished yet.
We've decided to keep him in camp for a week while I get used to the differences between videogame and reality, and when we're ready, we'll snatch the Twin Queens and put our double-agent 'Admiral' Vor in charge of the Grineer, assuming we can trust him with that kind of power.
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FellaVentura
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OSadorn
|
2024-03-08 23:58:54
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2024-03-08 21:31:10
| 68 | 32 |
ktzva96
| null |
1b9y4xy
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1b9y4xy
|
[WP] "I do not normally condone enacting justice against the living on behalf of the dead, but that is by choice, not rule, and since this particular situation struck a chord in me, I'm willing to make an exception for you"
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The rubble settled around me, the building, or what’s left of it, spread out over two city blocks. My right fist ached, but it was a good kind of pain, a vengeful kind of pain. Anger colored the edges of my vision. My pulse pounded in my ears. People were watching. I didn’t care. Let them watch. Let them see what happens to those who threaten her.
“You really should—“ Coughs racked the man’s broken body, blood splattering the front of his clothing, “You really should look into anger management therapy. I mean, what would your precious Penny think if she saw you like this?”
“You are not fit to say her name. You dare mention her again and you will know the true meaning of hell.” He coughed again. His blood mixing with the ash and dust settling from the remains of the building. He laughed, or rather tried to. His damaged lungs couldn’t handle the strain and he coughed up more blood.
“Hell, huh? Sounds like a blast. Tell you what, I’ll just go right ahead and leave here, since you don’t kill, and I’ll take my time to recover, and once I do, I’ll start biding my time. Eventually you’ll leave her alone, and once you do, I’ll be there. I’ll be there, and I promise you, I will—“
I screamed and slammed both fists down on the bastard’s chest. I felt something break. I kept going, kept punching him. I lost all control. I couldn’t stop myself. Even when he was long dead, I couldn’t stop. He had to suffer.
I don’t know how long it took me to stop hitting him, but when I did, there wasn’t much left. I stood. I faced the crowd, saw the looks of horror on their faces, and I knew that I was ruined. I took two running steps and leapt. My jump carried me four or five blocks. I kept running. I had to get home. I had to get her. We needed to leave.
I didn’t regret what I had done. He had deserved it. I’d do it again if I had to. I’d do it because nobody, ever, threatens my daughter and gets away with it.
|
Grace looked at the man before her. He was an evil, cruel looking man. He weilded The Stone. The reason of all existence, the creation of life. And he planned to steal it and kill all of it. But Grace wasn't going to let him take it.
"Put. Down. The. Stone."
"Why would I?" The man asked with an evil grin.
"Because it is the creation of the world, and If you destroy it, you destroy yourself. You don't have to do this Maximus."
"Who are you to know my name?"
"Everyone knows your name. It's in every newspaper, every article, every fucking post. You can no longer hide, and you can no longer run. I will ask you calmly one more time, Maximus. Put down The Stone."
"And If I don't?"
"I don't think you would like to know." I say, putting all of my intimidation into my voice. He gives me a small chuckle and continues grinning.
"We'll see about that." He uses his powers he had been hiding this entire time, and sends a shockwave throughout the planet that everyone feels. We are in a secret location, high on top of the tallest mountain. But I have some secret powers too.
I don't move while the rest of the Earth shakes and he makes a run for it. I blast through the air, using all of my momentum and power and charge at him. My emotions are taking over and my anger is overpowering. I feel myself lose control as I blast my fist through his head. It explodes and I somehow grasp The Stone.
I land on the ground and at first I feel amazing, accomplished. Then I realize what I have done. Even if he was about to destroy the world, I had maintained my reputation and worked so hard to build it. I look down at my hand that is holding The Stone, then at the other that is coated with dark, sticky, red blood. I teleport myself back to my home with my transmitter.
I see my dog, and he sees me. I know he can sense something is wrong, and he comes over. He tries to lick my hand, but yank it away. I go to the bathroom and wash my hands, several times.
I go into my walk-in closet and enter the passcode in the hidden keypad behind many clothes. I walk down the steep steel steps and put The stone inside a capsule and put it in a safe. My hands are still trembing from what happened.
As I go upstairs, all I can hear are the voices in my head telling me that I'm not a superhero.
I'm a villan.
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nonexistantauthor
|
YourLocalAnimalLover
|
2023-05-13 04:27:00
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2023-05-13 04:16:47
| 62 | 34 |
jjyo2d4
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jjymz5k
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13fuk2e
|
13fuk2e
|
[WP] Humanity has finally invented FTL travel, but the first human pilot to undergo FTL came out of their ship screaming.
|
History is full of pioneers.
Brave souls that risk it all for discovery and adventure. Well, at least some would call them brave.
Fazul would call them stupid.
"Who was the first, papa?" Fazul cast his one good eye down at his son. "His name was John," he replied. "They didn't know the rules in those early days. The cost." The boy fixed his gaze on the stars overhead, the twinkling in his eyes stirring up a melancholy nostalgia in Fazul.
"What happened to him?" Fazul sighed. The boy was old enough now, he decided. "Same thing that happens to all us spacers who take the trip aware," he said, a shadow creeping over his heart.
"They had to put him down."
His son went rigid, and Fazul squeezed him. "That's why we sleep during transit," he said. "Sandman can't get us in our dreams." Fazul looked down expecting his heart to break. He expected to see tears in his son's eyes. The tears of shattered dreams. Of loss. Of fear. What he saw instead chilled him to his core.
Curiosity.
That boys eyes were still fixed on the stars, and they held not a shred of fear. "Run along, now. Your mother will have my hide if I keep you up all night again. Go." His son smiled up at him, then gave him a squeeze before skipping off down the path to their cottage. Fazul remained. Watching him.
*Not afraid,* he thought. *Not even a little.*
Not after the tales they tell of the Sandman who lurks in the in between, waiting for someone fool enough to look at him. Not after the reports of brutal pirates, who kill or enslave the crew of every ship they pass. Not after his own father barely made it back alive when his prejump tranq was misdosed.
That boy would be a spacer.
Fazul stayed. He watched, and he waited until he was sure his son was inside, then he stood, looked up at the stars, and removed his eye patch. He could see it all through that one star flecked onyx black eye. The entire universe. All of space and time and energy and matter. All through the lens of one eye.
The one eye that beheld the Sandman.
|
##Relative Horror
Crowds gathered at the platform as Glenn Wright landed. T-Shirts with his face were scattered in the crowd. A few had a picture of the first plane flown with the phrase "Wright Dynasty" written above it. His lineage was controversial as he was related to the Wright brothers' cousin, but it made for a snappy slogan.
When his ship past Neptune, it left faster than light travel and slowed down. A few were reviewing the theoretical nature of relativity on their screens before he landed. At Jupiter, his craft hit the first net designed to slow it down. The net was a term for a complicated set of jets and mass that caught a craft and applied momentum in the opposite direction. A large amount of the transportation budget went to them. At Mars, the ship slowed to a near halt.
Glenn's capsule was ejected from the ship towards Earth. In three minutes, he would exit the ship. A few children were jumping with anticipation.
The crowd greeted the object in the sky with applause. When Glenn emerged, they screamed at him. He screamed in return. Most people assumed that it was joyful. A few noted his face didn't look happy.
Glenn ran to a nearby podium setup. He wasn't expected to give a speech, but the option was still presented. He opened his mouth to give his first words.
"We're all doomed," Glenn said. The crowd went silent. Across the solar system, people were glued to their screens.
"Humanity never should've flown." Glenn began to shake. "My family made a mistake. I saw horrors going faster than light."
Parents protected their children who started to cry. An enterprising bureaucrat grabbed his arm to pull him away, but Glenn shook him off.
"The universe is horrifying." Glenn continued to shout. More men came out and dragged him. As he was pulled off the stage, he continued to scream. The crowd erupted into concerned chaos. What could have happened up there?
Glenn was placed into a hovercraft and jetted off. A psychologist was waiting to interview him in the car. Dr. Pan opened his notebook.
"How do you feel Mr. Wright," Dr. Pan asked. Glenn looked up at the psychologist. His facial features twisted and contorted.
"The world doesn't make sense anymore." Glenn began to cry.
"We were afraid of that," Dr. Pan smiled, "Don't worry though. We'll be sure it makes sense for you soon."
---
r/AstroRideWrites
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jpb103
|
AstroRide
|
2024-02-29 01:00:31
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2024-02-29 00:50:26
| 283 | 53 |
ksmjg9o
|
ksmhuv4
|
1b2mh4g
|
1b2mh4g
|
[WP] You and your sibling have opposite powers. Your sibling can charge objects with potential and kinetic energy while you can absorb potential and kinetic energy. Most of the time people are worried about your sibling. That is until you lose control of your powers.
|
The King found his court lacking;
"Wit and comedy are too few!"
He hired a man to aid his cause,
And the Jester paid the due.
The court was quick and lively, now,
And all felt fresh and new.
Petty insults were in high demand,
And the Jester paid the due.
"Sir Henry is a traitor—"
This was whispered at the pew.
"Will anyone inform the King?"
And the Jester paid the due.
Sir Henry was imprisoned,
And soon the kingdom knew.
The people cried for justice,
And the Jester paid the due.
A twist of fate and knives in flesh,
There were no heirs, he knew.
A rush to fill the empty throne,
And the Jester paid the due.
No wit is in the court now,
And loathing quickly grew.
There were whispered talks of regicide,
And the Jester paid the due.
In the castle courtyard,
A gallows swiftly grew.
The noose cried for a life to end,
And the Jester paid the due.
|
T'was called upon to serve king and country as best he could, a good and honest man one duty bound, to wear the motley costume and goodwill sowing, and The Jester paid the due.
A gild for wheat, a gild for drink, a gild for home and hearth, and The Jester paid the due.
To survive is to cost, to cost is to pay, yet work not to recompensed, and The Jester paid the due.
Of his liquors distilled, that secret dew, the thirsty hearts of men did require, gladly did purses strings open and wallets lightened, and The Jester paid the due.
To live is to cost, to cost is to pay, okay, and The Jester paid the due.
The taxman come, an accounting to be done, a sum required of what paltry gains, of treasure same, your gold or your life, and The Jester paid the due.
Two gild for wheat, two for drink, two for home and hearth, and The Jester paid the due.
An empty purse, a hungry soul, and duty unfulfilling, and The Jester Paid the due.
An ancient enemy, a tunnel hidden, and the indifferent castle mighty, and The Jester paid the due.
A pact fulfilled, silver gained and hunger to abate, and funds able to satiate, and The Jester paid the due
Upon the scaffold high ,a traitor and scoundrel bound, justice required a balance owing, and The Jester paid the due.
|
HighWizardOrren
|
LeadGem354
|
2023-08-21 13:15:10
|
2023-08-21 11:23:42
| 94 | 23 | null | null |
enkvbn
| null |
[WP] The power of a spell is inversely proportional to the amount of words in its name. You, hated and exiled, invented the first single word spell:
|
"You turned a commoner's word into a spell?" The blue-robed interrogator's hands shook as he pointed demeaningly at the stringy-haired mage's face.
"Yes."
"And you did so with full knowledge that the ambiguity of the language could give the spell an untold number of properties?"
"Maybe." The blue-robed interrogator's incessant questioning was starting to get on Tarson's nerves. He knew what he'd done, he'd understood what he'd done. He just didn't feel like he needed to elaborate.
He never saw the point of being verbose at all. That was probably why the other title-obsessed twits over in the Spellwriter Guild had mockingly (most of them, at least) called him "Tarson the Terse."
The blue-robed interrogator wrung his hands in annoyance, spittle flying off his lips into Tarson's stringy-haired stubble-dotted poker face. "What the hell do you mean, MAYBE?"
Tarson shrugged, despite the binds tying him making it hard for him to lift his arms. "Maybe. I didn't know what I was doing. I also knew the magic. And how it worked. So yes, MAYBE I knew what I was doing then. And MAYBE you could step back a little. Your spit's on my face." He wiped the spittle off by rubbing his face on his shirt, with some difficulty.
The blue-robed interrogator was seething now. "I get sent here to wring out information from you, and you're over here giving me this...this...facade of stone-facedness! Do you have any idea what chaos you've caused with your single-word spell? Do you? DO YOU, TARSON THE TERSE? Perhaps we should call you Tarson the Twit in the records."
Little did he know, the interrogator had created the perfect opening for Tarson.
"TARSON THE TWIT, DO YOU PLEAD GUILTY TO THIS OFFENSE, AND ACCEPT YOUR PUNISHMENT?" The interrogator wasn't paying attention to Tarson's smug grin. Good. "ANSWER ME! ANSWER ME AS YOUR SUP-"
"NAY." The powerful word, the one-word spell, the thing that had caused the upheaval of the Guild and brought the fundamental principle of magic to (almost) everyone, erupted in a forceful burst from Tarson. "Nay" could mean anything. It was most commonly used as an expression of denial, of rejection...
...in this case, "NAY" became a rejection of punishment.
By the time the blue-robed interrogator got to his senses, Tarson's binds were scrap metal, and Tarson the Terse was long gone.
[First time posting here, don't know how it'll work out]
|
The rules of verbosity. I cracked them, in solitude.
Not only the *number of words* matter; but I found that the *number of letters* also did.
Because all spells were such verbose, nobody cracked this code. The power gets higher and higher, the fewer words you use; if you go to the letters, the power is astonishing.
And yet nobody knows that, but me. And that is how it should have been, for I found a different thing.
You see, rules are meant to be followed for a reason. Turns out that, less words mean less desirability. The Grand Mages probably knew that, but the fools that came after them could not understand their teachings.
But still - they formed groups, guilds, and were separated from society, lost in their big towers and schools of magic, blinded by power. They though that they were *too good* for society;
Nothing is further from the truth.
Society *didn't want* them. Could not *tolerate* them. And magic, somehow, made that happen, poisoning their minds.
And again, only I know. Because I cracked the code. But nobody will hear me, for the rules that bind them also bind me.
At the village below, I hear people using magic. Simple spells, like "Light this fire" to cook something, or "create serene light" to light their tales at night. Because of this rule, the village have hundreds of people; the mages could not gather a group of ten before betrayal and murder occur.
And now, another group of people come to me. I try to explain to them, like always. They cast their spells - "greater lightning", "lightning bolt", "flame attack". I evade it easily with only a single word: **evade**.
They are not amused. I **paralyze** them, and try to talk, again. They don't listen. They call me a liar, a thief, a fool. Even I have limits, but I don't want to hurt them.
Somebody cast **greater dispel**. The rules of magic are indeed absolute, because a group of twenty mages is now working on a single group attack; one I could not survive.
I won't lie - I cry a little, for I know what is going to happen. Before they could end their work, I simply utter:
**I**
A single word spell that gave me absolute power over them. They drop to the ground, overwhelmed by the raw power of that single spell, one that can make me move mountains and evaporate oceans; the absolute unit of a spell.
Before I can counter my own magic, the color drains from their faces. Like always.
I simply carry the bodies to the cavern below, filled with the corpses of other mages - other fools that met their destines before these.
And yet, I know I am the biggest fool; but there's no way back anymore.
Hopefully they will learn their lessons, and stop coming after me. And then I can finally leave alone, in peace, until the end of my days.
|
RandomMeme-134
|
mauricioszabo
|
2023-10-16 23:57:06
|
2023-10-16 22:29:28
| 79 | 33 | null | null |
17968f8
|
17968f8
|
[WP] You have lost count of how many time travelers have come to kill you. You don't know why they came and at this point you don't care. You will become what they fear simply out of spite.
|
In the beginning, it was disorienting. The first time a figure clad in sleek, futuristic armor materialized in my living room, wielding an energy weapon and spouting some gibberish about me being "a blight on the timeline," I was shocked. By the fifth attempt, I had developed a strategy: duck, run, hide, then surprise them from behind. By the twentieth, it had become a bothersome routine.
With each intruder, I grew more adept, more resilient, and ironically, more dangerous. My humble abode gradually transformed into a fortress, rigged with traps designed to counteract the various techniques employed by my time-traveling assassins. I salvaged their technology, studying and adapting it for my own use. I became a self-taught expert in future tech, learning to harness its power to protect myself.
The reasons for their relentless pursuit remained a mystery. What could I, a simple software engineer, possibly do to disrupt the timeline so drastically? Whatever their prophecy, it seemed my destiny was to be a menace. So, a menace I became. But not because of fate, rather, out of sheer spite.
I began to experiment. Using the future technology, I delved into the secrets of time travel, exploring its mechanics, and learning to manipulate it. I became an anomaly within the timeline, a factor the time travelers hadn't accounted for in their perfect prophecy.
In time, I managed to turn the tables. I started traveling to the future, appearing out of nowhere, catching the time travelers off-guard. I saw their cities, grand and cold, filled with people who lived life through screens, detached from reality. I saw their fear, their apprehension at the mere mention of my name.
With each visit, I left my mark. Not by causing destruction, but by spreading ideas. Ideas that were considered dangerous in their time. Concepts of freedom, of questioning, of not accepting everything served by the ruling authorities. I became a symbol of rebellion, a beacon for those who dared to think differently.
So, they sent more assassins, their fear growing as I continued to influence their timeline subtly. I was not the villain they had painted me to be. I didn't threaten their world with destruction or violence. I threatened it with change.
Their prophecy had become self-fulfilling. In trying to stop me, they created the very threat they feared. They expected a monster, a destroyer, but I became something far more terrifying to them. I became an instigator of revolution.
In the end, I was no longer the hunted. I was the hunter, and I held their timeline in my grip. Each assassin they sent only added to my resolve. I was going to change their future, not out of some divine destiny, but out of spite. After all, they started this. I was merely playing along.
\-----
if u enjoyed this, please read more of the stuff i wrote. i post some of it on r/epistemecognito
|
I looked down at the dead man’s body as I held his identity paper in my hand. I can’t remember how many times this has happened, a stranger apparently from the future has somehow travelled back in time with the specific aim of killing me.
I was done. This was the final straw. One of them killed my mother by mistake when I was a boy and the media tried to blame my poor father. Another came for me when I was in high school, and another after I joined the military. More and more come each year. Fortunately I’m still alive and serving thanks to the skills they taught me in the army.
Sometimes more than one of these people come in a year and I have to kill them. I have killed women as well as men as they’re ranks contain both. It’s me or them and apparently there is no shortage of them in the future.
I didn’t ask for this, but I hoped I could do something about it. My poor old ma, dead before she was 50 because some asshole has a time machine. Why?
I glared down at the futuristic identification card through tears. I missed her. I missed her so much. “These bastards won’t get away with this.” I swore to myself.
As I read the ID I went through all of the details for any information I could use. Name, age, weight, height, nothing ever really helped aside from two of the categories.
The first was the birth date. This was how I discovered they were time travelers. Every single one of these monsters was born after 2350. I assume that’s the year when time travel was invented.
The second category was religion. They all had the same religion which was weird to me at first, but I think now it’s a clue. Knowing this about them gives me an edge. Because it’s a religion that I know because it is in my time too. They have to be descended from people in my time, they just have to be. Perhaps I can save myself, or a version of myself, this utter torment of a life that I have had, being mercilessly hunted by these monsters from the future.
If they want to come for me, let them come. For the rest of my life I expect these monsters to hunt for me, my only chance is to fight back, to reclaim some of my life if it’s the last thing I do. I want revenge. I want them to burn. But I can’t get to them. I can’t travel through time and I don’t know where or how they are organized and how strong they are. It’s one against who knows how many?
I folded the ID card in half and threw it on the deceased man, spitting on him for good measure. I don’t have to go to them.
“You’re ancestors are here somewhere and I’m going to find them.” I said to the dead body. “I’m going to find them and I’m going to kill them because of you.”
Because of all of you, I thought as I turned to walk away.
I stepped out of the alley into the sunlight and held my hand up to shelter my eyes from the glare. My mind was set. I had a plan. I was going to get my revenge for the people who had ruined my life, murdered my mother and stalked my nightmares. They will pay for their crimes, and if not them, then their ancestors. I don’t care anymore. I want payback.
A friend of mine called to me from across the square, noticing I had been missing for a while. As I jogged back to the group another friend spoke.
“What did that guy want Adolf?”
“I don’t know.” I replied.
|
epistemecognito
|
MilkmanBlazer
|
2023-07-13 16:52:36
|
2023-07-13 15:51:40
| 183 | 94 |
jrtnm3a
|
jrtekkq
|
14ykuqu
|
14ykuqu
|
[WP] "Why do we make laser grids like these?" "What do you mean?" "I mean instead of a messy random arrangement of lasers that a nimble intruder might be able to jump through, why not a simple grid wall with no gaps large enough to allow a person to pass through?"
|
"Why do we make laser grids like these?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean instead of a messy random arrangement of lasers that a nimble intruder might be able to jump through, why not a simple grid wall with no gaps large enough to allow a person to pass through?"
"Messy? Nimble? Lad. To get through this grid you'd have to be in extraordinary physical condition and wearing extremely tight clothing in order to pull off feats of acrobatics. Now, did you also notice the security camera grid? Now that's an impenetrable coverage, not an inch of this hallway is out of sight."
"So this is for voyeurism?"
"Yep. It's hilarious. Because remember, an intruder would have to get IN, grab the item being secured, then get OUT the same way and boy is it great to watch them try. The looks of hope and determination on their faces, the revealing clothing, it's great. And tell me, have you ever tried to actually pick up the secured container?"
"The briefca...oh. Pressure plate under it, and so the alarm gets set off when they move it, I take it?"
"Ha! Not at all, although it would be easy to build that into the stupid plinth it is on."
"GPS tracker, then?"
"No, no, but you're close. It is definitely something IN the case. Go on, try it."
"Uhhhh... paint pack? Handle taser?
"Try it! I assure you nothing will spray, bite, stab, shoot, or shock you."
"Ok I WHOOOMPH!"
"Fifty pounds of lead weights sewn into the lining. Why did you think Brutus is the only guard allowed to take it upstairs, that meathead is the only one of us that can pick it up without changing expression and making it obvious to enemy spies. That's why they can get in but not out."
|
Nish stared over at his coworker, Yim, like the girl was a dumb, golden-haired rock.
"One, 'cause those are expensive as hell to make, and two, because these things ain't even guarding against a normal person."
With the help of Yim, he set the laser grid on the conveyor belt, and then flicked her forehead.
"Idiot. Do you even listen when the Miser talks?"
Yim just swatted at him and snapped back, "Of course I listen when the Miser talks! Sometimes I just don't get enough sleep and get really bored, okay!?"
Nish rolled his eyes, mumbling something about how Yim slept whenever she could and how it was entirely her fault for not listening to the Miser.
The Miser of this production facility was Jeei, a being that Nish would call ethereal if it weren't for the Miser's obliviousness. Sometimes Nish wondered how Jeei got this job. Misers like them usually got fired off the bat and replaced with a stricter overwatcher, but they hadn't. Perhaps management was just overlooking it. Like they did to their employees' paychecks.
Anyway, Nish and Yim just grabbed another grid and walked over to the belt.
"So, I forgot what the Miser said on the grids. Uhm, what *do* the grids guard against?"
Nish gave her a deadpan look before answering. "Eccskulls."
Yim tilted her head to the side. "Those big blobs?"
Nish nodded. "The laser grids cut them up into uneven pieces so that they can't move so quickly."
"...aren't they acidic though?"
"The lasers solidify most of the Eccskull pieces."
Yim stared down before nodding like it all made sense now and helped Nish put yet another grid on the belt.
"So when are you buying me the ring?"
Nish scoffed and shook his head. "The day management finally gives me an actual paycheck will be the day I buy a ring for you."
Yim gave him a glare in response.
Out of context but when I was writing this scene I only thought-see them as chibi characters lol
Also Yim and Nish are an engaged couple if you can't tell.
Edit: okay I really enjoyed making this one lol just edited this to put this here XD
|
Ishidan01
|
Quick-Window8125
|
2024-11-02 19:03:56
|
2024-11-02 18:56:36
| 592 | 27 | null | null |
1ghye6q
|
1ghye6q
|
[WP] Youve been hired to clean a graveyard every night for 80 bucks an hour. Its haunted. And by god you are going to make that 80 bucks an hour
|
It’s my first night on the job, and you can never be too careful. Phone, full battery. Headphones, on. Snacks, plentiful. Flashlight… at home.
Under the dim moonlight, the shadows begin to dance. Voices, whether inside my head or drifting on the winds, enter my mind. A hum, a bit too high and a bit too loud to be human, surrounds me. It’s going to be a long night.
It’s ironic now that I think about, in order to be among the living I have to walk among the dead, and they don’t intend to leave me be. The chill running down my spine is proof that they’ve made themselves known.
Known, the word lingers in my mind, and after six or so stones, overcome by a curious impulse, I examine it’s markings. Darlene Jackson, 1932-1988, a woman of many talents, judging by the epitaph, several paragraphs long. But I dare not linger, time is money after all, 80 dollars to the hour to be precise.
I peek at the next couple of tombstones, William Wallace, a butcher, Miranda Myers, seamstress, John Doe, blank.
Blank? And I don’t mean empty. The stone literally says blank, coupled with the frankly uninspired name I do a double, no triple take. What’s more is that the casket is high and hollow, with its lid peeking above the surface. I could just ignore this oddity, but the tedium of, 4 hours and 26 minutes work is starting to bore me. I peer through a small crack in the casket to behold the man’s skeleton, utterly standard at a glance, yet strangely fascinating. My headphones cut out, replaced by a strange sort of static, and then, a voice. “Young man, would you like to hear a story?” Honestly I would, anything to make the hours go by faster, and as I continued on, his voice followed.
I’m here to tend to the dusty, woeful, dead as they moan their tales through the fog, and for 80 dollars an hour, I might as well listen to what they have to say.
|
I start my shift by collecting trash.
You would be surprised how much trash gathers in a graveyard...
Like come on kids, teens, and other peeps...can't you go to a mall?
I slowly collect the trash with the stick, as I see some cans floating in the distance.
"Make yourself useful, and put it in a trashcan!", I shout...then dodge, as the cans come swooshing towards me.
"Tsk...child...so easily upset.\*, I mutter, as I pick up the cans.
Oh...yeah, forgot to mention...this graveyard is haunted.
After collecting the trash, I start cleaning the graveyards from ash, and whatever the visitors have left.
Especially the crypts...some...some couples think it's a good place...to you know....
As I walk I hear whispers, and shadows flickering just out of my sight.
I turn around, and whistle.
"Guys, already told ya, if you want something speak up!", I said, and the whispers quieted down.
Yeah...it's terrifying, I am already covered in sweat, despite it being the dead of the night...but...
It's 80 bucks an hour!
I saw ghouls, ghosts, and the noises....God...or Satan whatever created them.
At first it was bad, I wanted to give up, leave, say "I quit", and just go find something normal.
But somehow I managed to hold out for my first paycheck...which changed everything.
50 hours a week...do the math...
I paid half my mortgage in advance, bought fancy meat, and bought fancy clothes for my wife and daughters.
Damned I be, maybe, and I might get possessed...
But...for 80 bucks and hour...it's worth it.
Also...it's not that bad.
Some ghosts, and spirits or whatever, they just want someone to "see" them.
If they make a noise, or move something, and I start conversing with them...they stop.
Of course I have to say stuff they want to hear like: "Yeah, life is still the same...\* or "Must suck being a ghost, but at least you aren't in Hell.\* stuff like that.
Until now, I met only one ghost who can take on a proper form, and talk properly, and damn...is she creepy.
"Is that so...I am creepy?", a voice echoes in the crypt I as cleaning.
"Old woman, stop doing this!", I shout, as giggles echo, and slowly fade away.
"80 bucks an hour John....it's 80 bucks an hour...\*, I mutter, trying to not swear at the ghosts...
|
Rivaotta
|
TheWanderingBook
|
2024-11-02 04:45:59
|
2024-11-02 04:44:40
| 67 | 46 |
luz33db
|
luz2yb2
|
1ghm5mj
|
1ghm5mj
|
[WP]Walking into a flower shop and slamming down money on the counter, "How do i passively aggressively say fuck you in flower"
|
He’d walked into the flower shop, his shoulders hunched with anger, pale and tired. A subtle bouquet needed to be created, tied on the left and delivered with disdain.
‘Yellow chrysanthemums’ he cried, ‘she’s told me she despised me. Geraniums! She called me an idiot to have loved her. And lavender, for her paranoid distrust. Don’t forget the orange lilies, for her hatred.’
He quieted for a moment. ‘And add snapdragons, for deception, a single yellow rose for her infidelity, a poppy for my grief, and a spray of forget me nots.’
The shopkeeper noted ‘Subtle, sir. Any other symbols of floral distaste? Henbane? Evening primrose? A stem of hollyhocks? A striped carnation?’
‘Well, that combination would be rude. I wouldn’t want to send a black dahlia, would I?’
|
"...Exactly how pass-"
"Yes." Was all the man said and Mel blinked at the pile of hefty bills on the counter.
"Ah... thorny roses?"
"All of them." Another blink.
"I-"
"All. Of. Them." The man leaned over the counter, eyes bloodshot and one lid twitching.
"...One moment." Mel was quick to retreat to the backroom. Popping off some quick calculations in his head, the man did indeed have enough money for Mel to wrap up several thick bouquets and bring them out to the front. Before Mel could ask if he needed help carrying them the man scooped them all out, leaving the flower shop owner to stare and then shrug as he counted up the cash.
It wasn't any of his business, right?
\----
"I need the angriest plant you have."
"...Pardon?" Mel stared at the woman in confusion and she slapped down a thick wad of bills onto the counter.
"Not roses. Do you have any cactuses?"
"Yes, one moment..." He had a feeling now was definitely not the time to point out it was "cacti" given that she had the same look on her face as the man from yesterday...
|
GreatRuno
|
thatsnotacracker
|
2023-03-22 02:12:39
|
2023-03-22 00:51:57
| 319 | 192 |
jd628gr
|
jd5reju
|
11xy8mi
|
11xy8mi
|
[WP]Walking into a flower shop and slamming down money on the counter, "How do i passively aggressively say fuck you in flower"
|
"How do I passive aggressively say fuck you in flower?!" The man opposite of the counter spoke, his words fast, painful memories still fresh in his mind. He followed up his words with a fifty dollar bill slammed on the counter.
The florist, an older, mustached man, did not look up from his paper catalogue on the counter. Did not even flinch at the request, only slid the fifty his way and continued to flip in now shared silence.
"You want a subtle fuck you, the kind only you'd understand the weight of, or a real *fuck you*, the kind someones mom would feel?" His words came out almost lazy. A simple response for a simple request.
"I uhhh- well I want them to get it. Somewhere in between the two?"
"You could give em lillies if they have a cat. Cat eats it, gets real sick, maybe dies" The florist shrugged. " Seems like an innocent mistake on your part. Hell, they might even blame themselves."
"Well her cat is my cat too so, I'd rather not kill Carl."
"Hmph?" The florist made a noise between a grunt and a question. "Didn't tell me this thing was domestic. Alright well those roses over there are pretty shitty. Looks good at first but give em a day or two and they'll be deader than your relationship if you go with the lillies."
The customer thought on it for a moment, staring over to the corner with the bucket of lightly withered roses.
"Or, if you want something less thought provoking and more direct-" The florist cut in, pressing something under the counter. Between two shelves of floral arrangements on the far wall a new, much older shelf appeared, sliding between the two like a chaperone between kids at a middle school dance. Across the top a handwritten label read: *For the asshole in your life xoxo*
On the shelves were rows featuring much less pretty looking things. Spiky leaved, blackened things; oozing, bloody things; heinous plants with devious shapes and sizes.
The florist looked up from his catalogue and raised an inviting eyebrow.
"Well I want to keep the relationship, just want to really stick it to her, ya know? Maybe something less murdery."
The florist's face dropped and he repressed the button, returning the shelf back with a series of sad mumbles.
"Well you know" The florist continued. "I am a relationship counselor too", he flipped his tag, which now read *Larry Bland: Florist, Marriage Counselor, Notary...*
"First sessions free." He offered.
"Lets go with the roses, one dozen, red...and a session of counseling on Wednesday."
"Good choice. Want a bag with that?"
"Can you rip the bottom so they fall out on her?"
"Wouldn't be much of a florist if I didn't." Larry said as he tore a long rip at the bottom.
|
"Sir this is a Home Depot. We only sell potted plants and seeds." I frown, look down at counter, frown some more, and return my gaze to his face.
"My offer still stands." He slaps the fat stack of bills on the table. "Fucker."
"Hey, that was uncalled for." I say, "Do you want my help or not?"
He sighs, "Sorry, rough day. So? How do I passively aggressively say FUCK YOU in flower. Not that I was saying FUCK YOU to *you*, I just need to say FUCK YOU to enunciate that FUCK YOU is the message I need to convey to the person who is not you."
My lips purse into a line. "If your goal is to confuse me as to whether or not I should be offended, you've succeeded."
"WELL?"
"Uh, I'm just a cashier, but I guess something with lots of thorns, a rose?"
"Thanks." The man walks away and I return to staring at the wall. It's 7pm. Just one more hour of watching paint dry.
"Hey."
I look up, it's that man again. His scruffy, unkept hair sways energetically as he pounds the large pot of roses onto the counter. It shatters.
"Uh. You're going to have to pay for that." I scratch my head. "Sir."
"Damn right I will." He sprays one dollar bills at me like a printer playing 52 pickup. The leaf green slips settle in an unorganized mess across the several pounds of dirt covering the counter and floor.
"Have a good day, Mr. Not a Fucker." The man throws the last of the bills into the air and leaves the building without even bothering to take the flower he just bought.
I turn to Emma, who is standing next to me holding her sides and shaking silently, suppressing what I assume to be a laugh. I frown some more. This has got the be the oddest shift I've ever been on.
"So... what the hell was that about?" I say when she finally composes herself.
"That guy has been trying to get my number all week, I told him you were my boyfriend 5 minutes ago." She smiles, I kind of expected something to happen, but not *this*.
"That's... not nice of you."
"Eh, I figured you could handle yourself if anything happened, Mr. Star Judo Athlete." She punches me lightly in the side. Despite her small frame and my built stature, her bony knuckles drive a painful impression into my muscular fiber.
"You know I haven't been in a competition since college. I'm way out of practice."
"I... wouldn't mind some practice with you," She says with a soft smile, then looks away for some reason.
"Nah, our frames are too far apart, you'd be in a different weight class, wouldn't really be good practice." I shrug.
She punches me again, "Stupid."
"Yes yes," I sigh.
"So, uhm, do you want to try that new Sushi bar down the street with me after work..?" She kicks her feet lightly while sitting on the counter.
"Nah, I'm on a calorie controlled diet. I already have my dinner prepared at home."
She pouts, punches me again and stomps away. Did I do something to make her mad? Ah oh well, she'll get over it, it didn't seem like she was really mad. Back to watching paint dry.
___
A/N: 😶
/r/Unexpected_Works
|
GrunkleStanwhich
|
unexpected_dreams
|
2023-03-22 04:25:05
|
2023-03-22 01:17:08
| 299 | 120 |
jd6hcnd
|
jd5utej
|
11xy8mi
|
11xy8mi
|
[WP] Your workers always ask “Why do you put a self destruct button on your inventions?” Tired of their questioning, you decide to explain why it’s perfectly rational.
|
"Normal scientists iterate. They work out the kinks one at a time, they have 'steps' in the process. They test, and test, and hypothesize and test some more and its all incredibly boring don't you think?
"Now a MAD Scientist...well I don't have the time or attention span to go through all of that. But what I do have is a bit of caution. You see the powers I'm working with could very well destroy planets, or reality, or just the Tri-State Area... so to counter the chance of something going wrong and me being unable to stop whatever invention it is that I've invented from destroying everything, I add a failsafe.
"This button here, disconnects, short circuits, or blows up the device before it can runaway from me and destroy everything!"
The Mad Doctor nods to himself, "I may be MAD, but I am not an idiot!"
|
My workers always ask, “Why do you put a self-destruct button on your inventions?” I’m always too busy to answer. One day, Jolie approached me as I sat and drew blueprints at my workbench. She popped the question. I turned my swivel chair to her. “It’s a trap for the hero. They’ll see the button with the label, and they’ll want to press it. When they do, it’ll blow up in their face!”, I told her, smiling. “Wow, that actually makes sense, but why did you say ‘the hero?’ You have one nemesis, and it’s Dark Man.” “Oh, that’s what you think, Jolie. I have multiple.” “Who?” “Well…there’s Sam…” “Sam?” “Yeah.” “They don’t have a hero name?” “No.” “Why haven’t I seen this Sam person?” “He has invisibility. Duh.” She squinted at me and said, “Hmm.” I smiled nervously. “Alright”, she responded before walking off. I turned back to the workbench. It was time to start building, but I didn’t see my wrench. I had it right here. Weird. I looked to my right and saw it on the floor. I walked to it, but I was suddenly struck against the left side of my head. I fell on my bottom. A man’s voice said, “Haha! You’re no match for the mighty Sam!”
|
JustRuss79
|
ShySilverSurvivor
|
2023-12-28 17:37:57
|
2023-12-28 17:35:27
| 98 | 41 |
kfajjcv
|
kfaj3vb
|
18suzjb
|
18suzjb
|
[WP] You are isekai'd into a world of magic, you are the hero, at the request of the kingdom, you defeat the demon king, destroy the abyss armies, and even slay the dragon lord, all under promise that you will get to return home. Ultimately, they tell you, they don't know how to send you back.
|
"It's okay," I said, sadness in my voice.
The King, Grand Duke, General Merdock, Grand Wizard Lupin, and all the nobles were stunned by my words.
"I will bestow upon you a dukedom and territory at..." the King quickly began, but I waved my hand.
"No, it is not appropriate to bestow territory upon me, my King," I said. "I have no talent for management."
"If so... I will hand my daughter to you," the King said.
"No, it is not suitable. In my world, I am an ordinary person. If I marry the princess, it will make both of us suffer," I refused again.
"But it is not fair to you," the King debated.
"If it were me ten years ago, I might have been angry. But after living in this world for ten years, I think we must look at the bigger picture," I persuaded them. "Now, nearly all threats to the kingdom are gone, and we must secure this peace."
Everyone fell silent, listening to my words.
I slowly took off my hero armor and God's sword.
"What are you doing?" the King trembled.
"As I said, nearly all threats are gone, but one threat still remains," I pointed at my chest, "My identity as a hero."
Everyone's eyes focused on me, but I quickly spoke.
"General Merdock, I remember that your son, Lothar, is in love with the princess. I think he is the most suitable person for this task," I said. "Give Lothar this armor and sword and let him assume the identity of a hero."
Everyone in the court hall was stunned, including the brigade of Imperial archers on the upper balcony.
"But all the work is the result of your hard work over ten years," General Merdock said with an unbelieving expression.
"Not all of it is my work," I replied, "it's everyone's work."
"Many soldiers lost their lives."
"Many nobles sent their sons and daughters to the battlefield."
"Many civilians suffered from this war," I said.
"If someone tries to use the violation of promise to sow rebellion, it will harm the kingdom. So the best way is to bestow the hero's identity upon Lothar and hand him princess and territory."
"I've wronged you," the King spoke.
"Do not think too much. As a king, your duty is to stabilize the kingdom, not to please a single hero," I said. "Can I make a request?"
"Say it," the King said.
"I want to go and settle in Caverna village. Nine years ago, I traveled there to exterminate a bat monster, and I believe their crop output is not optimal," I explained. "I want to go there and see how to improve their crops and farming. Lothar, can you speak for me?"
"My King, he has talent in crop and farming techniques. Every time we rescue a town or village, he gives them advice for farming," Lothar said from the upper balcony amidst a group of battle mages.
I walked out of the palace with sweat on my back, but luckily, I had prepared for this. I had anticipated it for a long time. The King had never tried to send me home, and they hadn't revealed any information about how to send me back.
Today, as I entered the palace, I saw Imperial archers, battle mages, and Imperial swordsmen all over the balcony.
In this world, I was a mere outsider, a chess piece in their attempt to rid the kingdom of demons. Territory, rank, and nobility were controlled and balanced between the aristocrats. They would kill me if I requested any one of those.
I returned to the inn, packed my belongings, and prepared for departure.
Unbeknownst to the King and the aristocrats, the Hero's Identity was not a secret. Every time I suggested farming techniques from my world to the civilians, they already knew my identity, that I came from another world.
And Lothar, my friend, or rather, the King's spy, had a presence in my party, so everyone knew that he was not the hero.
I could only imagine the expressions on people's faces when they received the announcement that Lothar was the hero and I was expelled from the palace.
Right now, I must go to Caverna village, retrieve saltpeter from the cave, buy sulfur, make gunpowder, teach people farming techniques, and work to improve the quality of their lives. I'll also wait for the right time for rebellion.
I'm certain that people will be resentful when they hear that their Hero's identity has been stolen.
|
The demon king was at the bottom of my foot looking at me with fear and terror in his eyes, good the same he made people fear for their own lives. The same fear that went through my companions faces as they fell to him.
"You'll end up just like me," The demon king spat blood out on the ground, "It's a constant cycle, violent cycle." His fading emerald eyes meet a shiny quartz. His hand extended towards a broken pocket watch that was on the ground but before he could reach it. I stepped on his hand with my reinforced boot crushing it instantly. His screams were agonizing as I shoved the pocket watch in my pocket.
"Just go to hell where you belong." I scoffed as I brought up my spear and pierced his heart sick of hearing the excuses, pulling my weapon out with a gush of blood. Not bothering to pick it up all the way I decided to drag it across the floor causing sparks as I left the demon king's castle.
The wind kicked up beneath my feet as I slowly started to float before it fully circulated my body as I blasted toward the kingdom. Due to the wind being one of my magical proficiencies, it didn't take any longer than fifteen minutes before I landed at the castle and opened the door without any warning.
"I killed him for you." My voice boomed as I pulled out the broken pocket watch that was infamously told about throughout the lands. Deciding there is no point but to cut to the chase, "Send me home already, I miss my friends and family."
The guards all chuckled nervously and my eye traced over to one of the knights quickly leaving the room, doesn't concern him. A nasally voice that sounded like a pig spoke for the first time rang in my ears, "Well about that we don't know how exactly but if you give us time. We are positive that we can figure something out."
"How many?" That was my first thought, a constant cycle. "How have heroes have you summoned?" I took a step forward the ground cracking beneath my foot, some of the guards decided to do the right thing and leave. Some remained stupid and stayed by the king's side, "How many of those heroes failed?" One of the guards attempted to charge me but I simply formed an air bullet and pierced his chest. "How many of them succeeded just to learn they can't get sent back?"
The king was silent for a moment before he hesitantly spoke, "1375...that's how many demon kings we had."
Rage. The wind kicked up around me as I felt my anger grow, those companions of mine who fought a war they shouldn't have to fight because of incompetence. People die every day because of these rulers who don't think before they act. It's their fault why they constantly have problems.
"Daddy! I heard ruck-" It was the princess she is beautiful. "I heard a lot of noise coming in here and wanted to make sure you were okay." She gasped as she saw the corpse that was on the ground before looking back up at me. "Mr. Hero did you do this?"
I smiled, a cruel smile on my face. Before I formed a massive air bullet the tip of my pointer finger and blasted her head off, the blood and brain matter splattered over the throne room and the king. The *princess was beautiful*.
The king cried in outrage, "Guards! Get him!"
My other magical proficiency was water. Water and wind are a perfect combo, and I formed a wind ball with water inside it sending it forward. Before the guards could even react I split the ball and sent the remaining guards flying to the wall crushing them instantly. Casually strolling forward I stood in front of the king, his breath was quickening. There was heat racing behind me I didn't bother turning my head around as I raised an air bubble encasing the both of us.
"Do you want to know a quote that I'm sure crossed every single hero or heroine and demon king or queen mind?" I asked as I placed the tip of my spear against her throat.
"What?" Was all the king could say resigned to his fate.
"You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become a villain, fitting quote right?" The spear went across the king's throat as his hand instinctually reached out and covered it. My hand grabbed the pocket watch that the old hero had and I looked at it, a small frown appearing on my face.
It was an older man with brown hair and radiant green eyes holding another man with black hair with beautiful brown eyes. How many lives have been ruined by this land? No matter, I will simply find a solution to leave. Heroes or heroines, all of them will fall or will join me. They do not have a choice like I wasn't giving one.
|
Mormaew
|
WIHachillies
|
2023-10-26 14:16:28
|
2023-10-26 05:12:57
| 34 | 25 |
k6jha4m
|
k6i0um8
|
17gcuc8
|
17gcuc8
|
[WP]Humans, only humans would be so insane that when they find the corpse of a god, they would look upon that vista of eldritch flesh and think "I wonder if I could eat that?"
|
“Captain’s log: it has been twelve days since the crew has had a proper meal. Things are getting - tense. There have been a few fight - tussles - really over food. Some treat that a crew member bought at port and squirrelled away in their quarters.
“I don’t know much much longer we can survive. Water recycling is good. Air recycling is good. Power levels are perfect. Just the main engine that won’t light - making us drift through the void.
“The lack of food is going to do us in - assuming we don’t do each other in.”
I run my hand through my hair as I let out a deep sigh. Twelve days without food. Forty days adrift in the void.
I have a good crew. A disciplined crew. But forty days is a long, long time to float, pray and hope.
Sitting in my ready room chair I scan over the logs for the last forty days. Each getting a little most desperate than the last. Each telling part of the story of how we are slowing becoming more and more savage.
Beep
“Captain! You should come to the bridge,” my first officer says over the comms.
I press the button to reply - hope welling up inside me. I try to wrestle it down. Push it into a reasonable container.
“On my way number one.”
A couple of deep breaths are all the luxury I can take. I hope it is enough to look composed once I hit the bridge.
“Report!” I bark as I strut on to the bridge and take my chair.
“I appears to be a… being…,” number one says uncertainly.
The view screen is showing a large, mostly, naked man - slowly tumbling in space. Four big muscular arms. A chain mail lion cloth. Knee high boots.
“Looks to be a being from a sword age world flowing in space. Odd. Log it and we will send someone back to investigate once we have connected with command,” I said briskly.
“Sir,” the science officer speaks up, “that being is almost ten thousand meters tall.”
“Ten thousand? That is impossible….”
“I have checked and double checked,” the science officer said meekly.
“How far out are we?”
“At our current rate of tumble we will pass by the being in six hours. We will come very close - within fifty meters - but won’t collide,” the science officer says.
“Life signs?”
“Negative sir, whatever it is - it is dead by everything we understand life to be,” the entire bridge crew was silent. Just listening to the exchange between the science officer and I.
“Sir! I think I know what it is… sorry… who it is,” my tactical officer said uncertainly.
I gave him the raised eye brow. The tactical officer is great at what she does but has a few - odd- ideas when she attempts to branch out beyond her specialty.
“There is a legend, sir, from the V’hery people. Of two gods that fought an epic battle among the stars. They battled with swords and knives, fists and feet, fighting to be the god of the V’hery people. One of the gods was described to have four arms, a great sword, and wear nothing but a chain mail lion cloth.” She looked up at me expectantly.
“You think we are looking upon a dead god, floating through space?” I said with a big more distain than I should have. “Sorry lieutenant. I don’t believe in gods.”
I turned back to the view screen. We will pass with in fifty meters of the giant.
“The shuttles still have a little fuel in them, right?”
“We sucked everything we could out of them. They could manage maybe a ten minute flight with what we could get,” the science officer reported.
“Could we get a crew over to the body, harvest some meat from the leg, and get back to the ship?” I asked, almost of myself. My crew was starving and here was a giant source of raw meat. Frozen in space - it still looked fresh - like it had died but moments ago.
Every eye on the bridge was glued to me. Some in horror. Some in wonder. All in hunger.
“I think we could captain,” the science officer reported. “With what the shuttles have left for fuel and what we have space for in cargo bay 3 - we could bring over about a tonne of meat.”
I nodded. A tonne of fresh meat would keep us going for long enough to be found. Cargo bay 3 is open to the vacuum of space. We can just trim off and consume what we need - a little at a time.
“Make it happen people! The clock is ticking!”
The bridge jumped into action. Everyone knowing what they need to do.
“Captains log: it has been five days since we captured almost a tonne of flesh from the dead being in space. We have run every test we can think of on the meat.
“There are unidentifiable elements and compounds in the meat. The science teams aren’t sure if we can safely eat it or not.
“At this point - it isn’t safe to \*not\* eat something. We have a few volunteers willing to try the meat. Two privates from the lower decks.
“I am remiss to let them try it. I can’t help but wonder if it should be me. I should be the first to taste it. Be the first to see if we can consume it.
“Of course, number one isn’t thrilled by that idea. At this point we have no choice. Either we eat it - or we die.”
|
The humans were the only beings known to remain remotely sane in the face of a god, even in a stasis tomb - where the dead body is interred in a timelock to prevent decay, rot, disease or worse from festering.
It was common knowledge that gods don't need their bodies, and that some gods even deliberately draw followers of their faith to their remains, where they would be encouraged to behold as the remains transfigured into artifacts; books, weapons, armour, even 'simple' foods such as medicinal wines and bread - all of which would impart upon their designated acquirer the intrinsic understandings and intentions of their god.
For humankind, who had gradually fallen out of religions in the full-swing-terms of things, this was a shock, at first.
But the gods wanted nothing more than to have their dead forms be removed from the adjacent-realm-fortress-stations they were found in in this 'sacred manner'.
In this context, the humans have found the body of a goddess who had a likeness to their women, and a body whose proportions - before her body failed her - were functionally unrealistic or impossible to even move around, though when she lived, that was still possible.
We first believed gods to have forms we couldn't comprehend, until the humans imposed some kind of narrowing event upon them, with their final shapes having a clear influence derived from human-made anime and related creations.
Her stasis sarcophagus was non-euclidan like the rest.
Yet, despite the body being clinically dead, a human had the insanity to propose such.
That one human was thus dubbed 'the sacrifice'.
'The sacrifice' was left alone. The 'experiment' recorded.
The goddess did not expect direct worship to resurrect her. She accepted the 'sacrifice' as her first partner and disciple... And every woman remotely human-compatible in shape began to face the side-effects of a 'bonus' puberty; the physiques of the affected women overall became capable of overpowering man.
The reason we selected this specific historical event was because it was the first recorded time a god's vessel literally undied from direct, compassionate contact from someone who earnestly believed in them.
Not out of worship or faith, but from a 'place' more raw and heartening. A kind of 'belief' that was more a perception that what they beheld was dear to them.
...And evermore was the phrase of 'eating a god' corrupted by this goddess.
***We don't talk about that.***
Instead let us go to the few other circumstances where gods live-reacted to faithful in proximity. There was a giant 'cruise-if-fix' structure some humans rushed to during their onset of galactic communitary integration, claiming it to be a proof of their 'God' god.
When they entered, they were informed by a chorus of bioconstructs that their master is dead from age. They then called the rest of the faith to mourn him.
...Then their god asked them to unseal his corpse, whence it turned into a myriad of items - from bottles of wine and loaves of bread to bladed metal crowns, massive warhammers, and gothically-themed armour.
Among these 'gifts' were genetic research data that the humans would use to seek out his 'truest disciple' to kickstart some kind of imperial regime.
We had to alert the goddess to it... Except she said that man that god pointed out, was now her husband.
So I don't know if we should be scared or excited.
For one, the humans now have their Emperor, so we think.
For two, said Emperor is in the clutches of a goddess he's passionately calling 'mommy'.
And thirdly, the humans - even without their 'Emperor' - are testing these bio-augments.
...All of which aren't done in the way you may have read from the fiction his existence was reportedly inspired from; apparently, they just ate a medical paste that 'tastes of iron, butter, and coffee', went to sleep, then woke up with the attributes you'd expect of the fictional 'Astartes' - rending them compatible with the armour that was given by their biblical god and able to heft the armaments he intended them to wield.
Yet, somehow, much to the panic of human men, women in this matter were compatible with the process. A passionate conflict unfolded, resulting in the destruction of all of the aforementioned artifacts save for a book, the 'cruise-if-fix' station and it's haul, and those who were augmented.
The first scariest part? That damned book had a precise writeup of how to -grow- those augmentaries and tailor them to specific needs.
The second one? The humans are remodelling most of the less adult-human-shaped angels into adult-humanoid-shapes with angelic attributes thanks to some extranet site that decrees particularly eccentric conduct.
Eccentric conduct that probably was why the goddess is still in such joyous spirits...
The third one? The humans are -growing- the bread and wine in the 'cruise-if-fix' and have turned that thing into a capital city-station for numerous religions to congregate.
Our speculators are wondering if there's any other human-identifiable deities out here, but so far we've only found a giant ovoid with an indent - the domain of our beloved Drusella, queen of the hunt, hunter, and hunted and monster of-
***We. Don't. Talk. About. That.***
...It's really difficult to write any of this down without the threat of a deity going and trying to turn the whole article towards 'that rule' the goddess spoke of at every possible turn.
It's like they want us to integrate their genes and spawn a new pantheon for them! We're not a petri dish!
...Why are the humans so giddy about this?!
|
escher4096
|
OSadorn
|
2024-01-01 17:08:35
|
2024-01-01 14:06:43
| 36 | 23 |
kfup71v
|
kfu070a
|
18vuvsl
|
18vuvsl
|
[WP] "Oh, you didn't actually trick that demon, they let you get away. They let a few people win every generation so the next lot of idiots think they have a chance of making a deal without losing their soul."
|
I returned happily from the crossroads, content to continue my happy life.
I stopped by a fast-food restaurant, to get some takeout for my loving family.
There, a tall, blonde woman, dressed in a perfectly white suit sat next to me, as I enjoyed a coffee while waiting for my order.
I nodded to her.
"You didn't trick that demon, they let you get away.", she said, as her own coffee arrived.
I stared at her.
"W-what are you talking about?", I asked.
"You know. I know. Nobody else knows, so don't worry.
Xelethus allowed you back, with your soul intact intentionally...nothing to do with the "loophole", that you had 3 kids, instead of 1 child, as in the contract it is mentioned singularly not plural.", she said gently.
"I...", I didn't know what to say.
"If it was that easy to get out of a contract, fae and demons would have long died out.", she giggled.
I couldn't comprehend what was going on.
"Why would that...demon do that?", I asked.
"Because your deed will travel through the occult circles...
Prompting other idiots to think they have a chance of making a deal without losing their souls.", she said.
"But loopholes...", I started.
"Sure, there are some genius humans who manage to find ACTUAL loopholes, but come on...
It's you 20-30-40 something year old humans, versus millennia old demons and spirits...
Why do you humans always think you are smarter than them?", she rolled her eyes.
It was...It was true.
"He knew about the internet and everything...", I muttered.
She laughed.
"Of course he knew, 80% of inventions come due to small or big deals with demons.
10% is natural talent, and the last 10% is luck, and divine blessings...this last 10% contains the more important things though, like medicine and stuff.", she said.
I was frozen for a while, before...shrugging.
"But this means, that I truly got my soul back.", I said.
She nodded.
I smiled.
"That's all that matters.", I said, standing up, my name being called, my order was ready.
She just smirked at me.
"As if the fact that you colluded with a demon, doesn't leave any mark on you...", she said.
"Who are you?", I asked, getting done with her remarks.
"Ananke. We will meet again, sooner or later.
All of you end up meeting me.", she said, sipping her coffee.
I left, and had a nice dinner with my family...everything was great, yet...I started to lose the joy I felt before.
|
**Beware of Demonic Deals**
It has come to my recent attention that some townsfolk had been seeking demons to grant their wishes. Entering deals and contracts with such infernal entities. I understand that your friendly neighbourhood eldritch god and local deity Lord Elvari here can be a busy abomination, but that's no reason to jump ship over to demons, genies or the fae.
They have changed their tactics ever since stories of Monkey Paw wishes and cursed wishes have proliferated, especially with the advent of social media. Understanding that a constant stream of dead humans isn't good to lure more into their clutches, they now let you get away occasionally. To walk away with your wish granted. It is only so you may spread the word so more humans may come to them.
Think of it like a skinner box, but worse. If the food box was always poisoned, the birds will learn not to eat from there. If there was always food, the birds grow complacent. Now, if these less than benevolent entities made it random as to who got their wish, who were screwed over, and who walked away with nothing, humans find it...exciting.
Like a lucky draw. If you win, you walk away feeling like a millionaire. Maybe you even think the demon is your friend. It gave you what you wanted with no strings attached. Ah, but that's how it makes you hunger for more. Come back again. This is how they get your soul. And by then, the only thing making the rounds would be your initial success. Not your eventual doom. After all, you wouldn't be around to warn the others.
You ever heard of the story of the dime and the nickel?
There's a small boy who was always surrounded by bigger boys and called dumb, and other rude nicknames just outside an old barber's shop. One day, the barber stepped out to ask the small boy what was going on.
"They'd ask me which was larger," he said. "So, I'd take the nickel."
"That's dumb indeed," the barber remarked. "The dime is bigger."
"But if I took the dime, they'd stop playing the game and giving me free nickels."
And that's how it is. The demons siphoning your soul, bit by bit all while you think they're dumb for getting tricked by you. They're the ones getting the last laugh.
Yes, I've said it myself, dead tourists are bad for business. Thankfully, for all you humans, my business lies in monetary donations, tea and cakes. Not souls. This is why I don't have to resort to such underhanded methods but earnestly grant your wishes. Get your wishes from an entity that is empowered by blessed, living followers, not by stealing your soul. Or in the case of the Fae, by enslaving you and toying with you for as long, or short as they fancy.
Thank you for reading, and stay safe from supernatural scams!
Sincerely,
Your friendly neighbourhood eldritch, Lord Elvari of Innsmouth
|
TheWanderingBook
|
Tregonial
|
2024-11-27 04:49:11
|
2024-11-27 04:02:24
| 29 | 15 |
lz72oos
|
lz6wayr
|
1h0rqov
|
1h0rqov
|
[WP] The royal family decide to visit the hero who saved the kingdom from destruction to honor him. Instead of living in a grand palace surrounded by treasure however, they find him in the fields of a small farm, humbly tending to his own crops.
|
"A farmer will always return to his farm."
It was what my advisor had told me. My advisor is a wise man who found secrets to eternal life. It cost him much, but he became the best advisor I had ever known. When he told me that, I laughed.
Yet here I stand. The legendary hero who fought the lich king and his armies, faced evils I couldn't comprehend, even saved my beloved daughter, has created a beautiful farm. My wife, daughter, and son were not happy, but I knew that he deserved to be honored, regardless of how he chose to live.
When I came to him, he looked to me and bowed. I smiled and told him he could rise. Our conversation then began.
"Samuel. You have done much for this kingdom, and it's people. My gratitude upon thee."
"Ah, shucks. My king, I only did what any man ought to do."
"Yes, that is true. However, you still took up blade and shield despite knowing nothing of how to fight. You did this without being asked. When destiny called, you did not reject it like many others did."
"My king, I have to thank you for your kind words. It means the world to me. . . Here, let's get out of the sun. I have some wine."
Ah, now that's something we can all agree on. Upon entering his home, I see it is as humble as he is. The chairs are uncomfortable but sturdy. The meal we share is hardy and filling. My family judges him, for a man like this should be kissing their feet. I know better.
He knocks me from my train of thought. "I do hope you're enjoying the meal, my king. If I had known you were coming, I would have gotten something better set up for all of you."
I chuckle. "No need. This is what you fought for, and to dine with you is an honor to me."
"You flatter me. . . But I must ask, you are a busy man, how is it that you have the time to visit me?
Ah, even now, he thinks of everyone but himself. "We have come to honor you. You deserve rewards for your sacrifices and actions." At the mention of sacrifice, he touches an eyepatch he now wears.
". . . That's mighty kind of you."
"Nay, it is what you deserve. When you wish, please come visit us at the capital. I have come personally to express my thanks away from the people. So you know how genuine this is."
"Thank you, my king. . . Your words mean everything. I do not have the finest of cloth, but I will wear what I can so as to not embarrass the court."
I smile again. I still feel horrible for what our kingdom cost him. My wife and kids do not have the eye for detail I do. They do not see the wooden joints or the stiff movements have his hands and legs. They do not know he sacrificed not only his old life but his body too. They do not know he is half of what he was when all this started. After our short visit to state our intent, we leave.
They talk in the other carriage, so that I may ponder. They talk of how he was filthy and how he doesn't deserve the rewards I give. How is it that they are so ungrateful for the sacrifice of a young farmer.
Have we all become this ungrateful?
|
"What in the Gods?" The Prince of Exaladrynth asked. Looking around, the preteen prince wondered why this tiny patch of farmland situated in the center of four little hills was the address that the Legendary Hero, Johnathon Simenon, had chosen to live after the Third Demonite War was ended by his hand.
"Do not invoke their name without just cause, Feron." The Prince's elderly father, the King of Exaladrynth, stated. "Though I do agree. This is hardly the place a legendary hero with decades of adventuring history behind him would be expected to live."
"Hey! Over there! No solicitors, peddlers, or anything! I've got a lot of debts to pay off and I don't have time for chit chat!" A tall, scruffy man shouted from around the run-down shack in the center of the farm.
"Johnathon!?" The King shouted in shock. Johnathon was a legendary man! How could he have fallen into such a state!?
"Who's asking for him?" The tall man said as he slowly limped towards the royals. "I can go get him if you like."
"Get!?" The King asked concernedly.
"Is this not him?" Feron looked to his father.
"No. I know that frame and that face, even with as shallow and thin as it seems now... That's him." The King sighed. Then, stepping closer to Johnathon, he continued. "A great celebration is coming up soon. A festival in celebration of the ending of the Third Demonite War. We were hoping the legendary hero who ended the war would be the guest of honour."
"Ah! No thank you, your majesty!" Johnathon bent at the waist in a short bow, though with his height, he was still too tall to look anywhere but down to meet the King's gaze. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm dirt-poor. I couldn't show up and bring the mood down like that. And please, respect a hero's wishes, if only for a humble retirement."
"Doesn't seem like much of a retirement to me. You say you have a debt problem? I could absolve that for you, you've earned that much."
"No, no! Please don't!" Johnathon clapped his hands. "I know the treasury is thin these days, don't let an old veteran further pull them thinner."
"Gah..." The King sighed. "Very well. But remember, I'll always be grateful for your efforts. Anything you need. We will give you."
"Thank you. Your majesty..." Johnathon sighed and bowed again. As the two royals returned to their carriage and returned to the city, Johnathon turned around and headed inside. Over dirt floors and between rickety halls he slowly meandered, until he was sitting beside an old shelf with a carved star on the side. Humming a tune and tracing the star to it, the floor below him became illusory, and he fell through into a huge room filled with gold, games, statues of Simenon, luxury furniture, and of course, a bubbly hot spring, where a mermaid, water nymph, and dryad cheered in delight as their hero dropped in and ditched the cheap burlap patchwork clothes he'd had on in favor of red swim trunks and sunglasses. "Ah! Finally the feds are gone, and hopefully that means another week with you lovely ladies uninterrupted!"
"Forgive me, dea-uh... Babe. But why do you act like such a pauper when you have trillions of gold in your vaults?" The Dryad asked the man who'd long ago saved her forest from Demonites.
"Exaladrynth never taxes its poorest workers, it even pays the ones with too much debt to stay afloat! So every gold I can earn, I keep for life!"
|
The_Saint_Hallow
|
Kliktichik
|
2023-12-04 19:19:19
|
2023-12-04 19:19:09
| 449 | 132 |
kbzpt9c
|
kbzpsa7
|
18aqii4
|
18aqii4
|
[WP] "So, Hero, who will you save; The love of your life, or the bus of innocent civilians?" "The civilians." "...What?" "I choose the civilians."
|
"Why?"
"What do you mean why? What kind of psycho prioritises one life over many just because they happen to have feelings for that one? That's madness"
"But..."
The hero had stopped listening and sped off towards the bus. The villain was dumbfounded for a moment but rallied. He freed the hero's love to gloat.
"Well, there you have it. He cares about strangers more than you and..." he noticed his victim was smiling, staring after the hero happily.
"What the...are you *happy* he choose them over you?!"
"Of course I am. What, you think I'm such a nutcase I think my life is more important than a literal bus load of innocent people?"
The villain shuffled awkwardly "Well, I just think..."
"Oh my god you actually believe that, don't you? That's why you're a villain you idiot, you think your emotions are more important than the well being of others!" They scoffed in derision and turned toward the staircase to get of the roof "Grow up you looser"
|
I stare at the man in shock and confusion. I look at his lover then back at him. "Do you not wish for your lover to survive? You would pick the civilians over them?!" I shout at him as I'm pissed off. His lover looks betrayed and hurt. As they looks into his eyes and tears going down their face and over the tape over their mouth.
"Look it's either lives of the many or life of one person. I'm picking the one which saves more lives," The hero tries to explain themselves but honestly I couldn't care. He would rather pick lives of strangers instead of the life of his lover.
"Then go! Leave here and go save those people. Go be the hero. Because I'm a villain but I'm not a monster," I yell at him to be a hero as who just sacrifices their lover. I was always right about heroes. They only want to be the hero and want fame, not care about anyone but themselves.
The hero Flys off and I untie their bonds and they collapse of the floor crying. I stare at them in sympathy. They are just on the ground crying until they seem to pass out due to their crying. So being the person that I am and decide to carry them to a bed. I pick them up and looks and their tear stricken face. Their eyes all puffy and red around them too. I carry them into my base and put them into a bed and just hope they aren't too broken from this.
|
ReasonablyBadass
|
Sad_Understanding876
|
2023-07-03 05:43:21
|
2023-07-03 04:22:46
| 88 | 16 |
jqh0ydp
|
jqgtnlw
|
14p13ue
|
14p13ue
|
[WP] You're the host of a popular talk show "I Was There" where vampires come to talk about historical events they were witnesses of. One day a vampire says something truly shocking.
|
SHITPOST
"... and I believe that many in this world are made out to be far worse than they truly are. There are many people who deserve some praise, like Adolf Hitler"
You could have heard a pin drop. Jonathan Myer slowly looked up from his list of questions and blinked several times.
“I beg your pardon,” He said. “Did you just say Adolf Hitler?”
“Yes, have you heard of him?” came the enthusiastic reply from Frederick Schäfer. “I’m surprised, I did not expect his work to be well know outside of Austria”
“His… work?” Came the slow response from Myer.
“Yes, when I was still teaching at the Academy of Fine Arts I got a look at some of it. It was nothing spectacular, but for someone with so little proper schooling, I thought there was promise”
Myer, for his part, slowly put his list down on the table. A quick glance at the audience was the only sign of the turmoil bubbling beneath his composure.
“It is unfortunate,” continued Frederick, “You must understand, art is an ever changing landscape. At that point, the art scene was moving away from the type of work that he was doing. Sadly, I feel out of contact with him when I went off have a snooze around ‘09, I am a notorious over sleeper, you see”
At this, Myer physically relaxed. It felt like a great pressure had just been released from the studio. There was a smattering of relieved sighs from the audience.
“So you are not aware of his entry into politics?”
“No, I was not. Politics was such a minefield when I woke up in ‘56 that I never followed up on him. Why, it was only five years after that that those funny Russian fellows had the wall put up. I tell you, it was most inconvenient to visit my niece in Berlin only to find a big slab of concrete in the way. The place was enough of a maze with all those new buildings, honestly, you would think that they had had a war in the downtown.”
Myer slumped back in his chair and rubbed his temples. “Maybe this show wasn’t such a good idea,” he muttered under his breath.
|
"Genghis Khan is still alive."
The audience roared in disbelief. Despite his best efforts, even Uther Umpire, host of the famous talk show, "I Was There", couldn't hold back his surprise.
"What?"
"Did that vampire just pulled that shit out of his ass? And I thought the previous vampire's claim of participating in the Emu War or 5 minutes of the Anglo-Zanzibar War was ridiculous."
"I kid you not. Look, I was there when he became one of us. He pretended to fall off his horse and kept the news of his false death all hush-hush. Why do you think nobody knew the exact cause of death? Its all speculation! And only speculation, because he isn't truly dead."
"Where is he then?"
"My friend, the Khan, grew tired of conquests on earth. The armies of earth ceased to be challenging. So he set out into Outer Space to conquer the galaxies!"
"Prove it!"
"Yea, or else you're full of bull!"
"You ever saw that Star Trek film?"
"The Wrath of Khan? Is this a joke? That Khan has nothing to do with Genghis Khan!"
"No, you filthy bloodbags! I'm talking about the Conquests of Khan!"
"There's no such movie! Get outta here!"
"Scram, you filthy bloodsucker! This is a historical talk show, not a fantasy sci-fi one!"
"Wait, what year is this?"
"2024. What did you hit your head on your coffin?"
"Oh...I'm a little too early for this. You see, I'm a time traveller from 2267 and Star Trek movies are still being made."
----
[Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, click here for more prompt responses and short stories written by me.](https://www.reddit.com/r/TregonialWrites/)
|
oversized_toaster
|
Tregonial
|
2024-09-18 21:11:55
|
2024-09-18 16:41:25
| 248 | 145 |
lnsqdmw
|
lnrae7f
|
1fjn090
|
1fjn090
|
[WP] In the medieval era, women began to wield magic and were called witches.A war was declared against them. However, the witches won and since then, the world has been ruled by them. You, a 16-year-old boy, discover that you can also wield magic. But your witch mother turns pale hearing this.
|
" They thought they could win against the magic with swords? How foolish!" Edward looked at his sword and wondered.
Edward, the son of the Witch Queen of Silvian Forest, was baffled that some men even tried to resist witches. The first witch, Gaia, saved the witches and defeated the barbaric reign of men.
This reminded Edward of when he started to learn swordsmanship. He tried to keep up with witches of his same age. He wanted to defeat them by sword, to make his mother proud.He still cringes every time he revisits those memories. Sometimes he turns pale, because his ambitions were borderline blasphemous.
According to the testimony of the great religion of Gaia, magic wielders are to be worshiped by men, and men are to serve the witches. He also thought of the time he wanted to read the holy bible of Gaia , because only magic weilding witches can read the great Bible of Gaia.
So he had to practice swords, or else, as the son of the Witch Queen, not becoming a knight would disappoint his mother.He knows how people regret that his mother doesn’t have an heir.
But His mother is different. He knows how the witches treats their sons, however,his mom loves him regardless. And Edward respects his mother the most.
He was practicing swords by himself. Edward was too buff for his age. His swordsmanship is phenomenal for his age. But the memories of him trying to keep up with magic-wielding witches keep bugging him.
At first, he gave a self-deprecating laugh, but soon he couldn’t throw away the thought from his mind. He became frustrated, but he didn’t know why.
“I will become the best knight ever,” Edward declared as he beat the training dummy black and blue. But the memories kept spinning in his head.
He fears to admit it, but deep down he knows it was all for nothing. Witches' magic keeps advancing. They can fly, make fortresses. He knows knights would be worthless soon. But here he is just playing with a sword.
“Aghh!” Edward's bleeding hands didn't stop. He screamed and wanted to slash the dummy one last time when suddenly, his sword was set ablaze.
The blue flame surrounded the blade, and just by touching the dummy, it set on fire and turned into ash. The blade also melted, and Edward threw it away.
“What just happened? My sword was on fire and…” Edward was astonished. He just had a flaming sword.
“But how? Did I just…” Edward stopped midway. Man wielding magic? That’s blasphemy. He couldn’t even utter those words. Even when some men tried to capture lightning and they were executed because they questioned Gaia's teachings. But he was weirdly excited and relieved.
“What happened here?” Edward saw his mom standing behind him in the training ground. He saw his usual cheerful mom was weirdly pale?
“WHAT DID YOU DO?” the Witch Queen now screamed. The magic fluctuation was too strong. Her heart dropped when she saw her son in that condition.
“Mom, I just, I don’t know, my sword was on fire…” Edward had never seen his mom so agitated. He was so afraid of disappointing her.The Witch Queen's worst fear came to reality.
“I have to send you away; you can't stay here.” His mom started to drag him to his room.
It has been 10 years since that day. Edward is on the run. The witches put a bounty on him, naming him the "sinner knight." And he runs a secret school. He has five students who can also wield magic and are boys.
When his mom sent him away, she also gave him the knowledge of the witches. The bible of Gaia. By using magic he could read the book. And he now knows the darkest secrets of the Gaia religion: "if any witch finds that her son can wield magic, he is to be executed."
|
"You- *You* can do magic?! A boy?!" Mama whispered, though I knew most of it addressed to herself rather than me. Mama often spoke to herself, price of being a powerful witch.
"Yes, Mama! Look!" I beamed, floating a cup of water from its beaker, every drop contorting and flowing like a rushing stream in the sky, like the Great Stream of Sava.
Mama pushed her chair out from under the table and grasped at my hands. I returned the water to its cup and turned to her.
"Oh, my beautiful boy..." She whispered, "I know not what this is, but I shall find out why. I cannot smell a trace of any curse - good - but there still may be other causes." She muttered, "There must be a rational explaination of this."
The house fell into a cursed silence, neither of us daring to make a single sound. I, too, was concerned of the cause of my powers. After all, one would assume that as a boy, I would not be capable of so much as a spark of magic. I had, of course, been tested for being intersex as an infant and it had come back negative, had not been cursed... What could it be?
We both adjourned to the library, each taking a corner of our enlarged library for our own. The number of books on magic itself alone was massive but I knew neither of us would be saddened by the prospect of camping out in the library for a few days at least.
So, there we went, the hours blurring as we attempted to ascertain the reason for my powers, I curled up in my long skirt as Mama floated above me casually. I could not even imagine the focus required to keep it up yet somehow, as always, she managed. Our reading was abridged by Mama teaching me the ways of the Wayfar witches, our family's trick for levitation and lighting candles. Our special family secrets Mama had thought would die with her.
I could see how proud she was, more than she'd ever been of me in her life, at the mere idea of her darling son wielding the tool that had shaped our family. The kinship I already felt with her, stronger than ever, was sickly sweet, strengthening my magic at every moment.
But then, Mama collapsed from her place in the air, crashing onto the floor with a deafening bang. She appeared unharmed bar a small mark that would likely have bruised had Mama not been proficient in healing charms. I could see she was excited and, as I matched her enthusiasm, gestured for her to speak.
"So, Elliot, you are aware, of course, how you wear women's clothing, all your friends are women?" She asked, eyes as frenzied as my own.
I sparked with knowing, looking between my mother and myself. I could tell what she meant yet... How many cases of magic occuring even happened if I was even trans?
I slid over to her, leaning back on the book shelf nearest Mama.
"Mama, how rare is magic in a male-to-female?" I asked, staring intently at her for answers.
"Elliot, if it is so, you are one in a thousand. Rare, but not unheard of. Most like you are not eager to speak of their roots. And I'd recommend you do the same, if you were wanting to enter a school for witches. It is, after all, rare enough I feel many would not understand." She informed me, "But know I love you for all that you are."
\---
"Hi, I'm Ellie, I'm here for initiation..?" I explained awkwardly.
"Oh, of course, right this way."
|
touched-by-divinity
|
None
|
2024-04-01 11:08:23
|
2024-04-01 10:29:13
| 70 | 34 |
kxizxq8
|
kxiwa2e
|
1bsynsn
|
1bsynsn
|
[WP] As one of Zeus bastard children, you are doomed to be targeted by Hera, however you found a way to get on the queens good side before she found out who your father is.
|
Hera Olympiad was someone who looked like she belonged in a world far above my own. There was no other way to put it. There was just this quality about her; if she told me to jump, I felt as if my body would move before my mind did. With her presence, she chased away all of the intricacies and sophistications of modern society away from my brain. She was the queen, and I was just a servant -if I even could call myself that.
Honestly, she shouldn’t even be here. She just looks too perfect. And I’m not saying this in a lovesick simpy way either; her face is too symmetrical, her skin too lustrous… her hair looks like they’ve never even met a split end in their life! For someone who should probably be on the cover of a Forbes magazine, she looks remarkably comfortable plopping her whole bodyweight down on my cheap 20-dollar amazon beanbag.
I won’t question it.
“I am once again here to experience human therapy,” she said without an ounce of inflection in her voice. Did I also mention that she was kinda weird? Not that she is the weirdest of my regulars, but she’s definitely up there. Maybe not as weird as Megan with her strange hissing noises, but 100% way weirder than Artemis.
“Last week’s therapy was quite helpful. I am thankful, John”.
“Just doing my job, Hera,” I said, sitting up despite being on another beanbag, “Have you decided on what you want to do moving forward?”
She sighed, sank deeper into her beanbag, and groaned. “No.”
“Would you like to talk about why?”
“It’s just the same thing again,” She muttered, “Is divorce truly the only option?” “Hera,” I said, “If this man has cheated on you multiple times already, it’s very telling already how much he values you.”
“I just value our marriage a lot. We made vows. Just because he broke his doesn’t mean that I’m going to break mine own.”
This was going to be yet another tough session. We’ve sung this same song and dance multiple times already. Maybe it was time to switch something up.
“When I was a kid,” I said, “it was just me and my mom. My dad left way before I was born, and for the longest time, I would always ask my mom if it was because of me. Sometimes, I still wonder, would my dad still be here if I were better?”
Hera listened with rapt attention, unsure of where I was going.
“My mother also died in mysterious circumstances, she left one day and never returned. Nobody was ever able to find even a trace of her. And you know what? I blamed myself. What if I were a better son, what if I was just born better? Would my parents still be here?”
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” she told me, her voice lacking the sharp and proud tone that I was accustomed to hearing. “But how does this relate to my situation?”
“The point, Hera, is that it took me a long time to realize that it wasn’t my fault. That I did not ask to be born to this world. And that there was nothing that I had to live up to. The only person that I ever had to be was myself. Hera, how much of yourself have you let go to waste to save your marriage? Do you even know who you are anymore?”
“No,” she whispered, “I don’t.” “Then you should start valuing yourself more. You are more than your marriage. You are more than just some man. Honestly, I would consider the marriage vows invalid after your husband decided to break them anyway. Think about it, if you cut a ribbon in half, both sides unravel.”
It was silent for a few moments as she sat there, digesting my words. Then finally, “I just lived for so long thinking that saving the marriage was what was going to fix my whole life.” She said, “It’s never occurred to me that it had started to become my whole life instead.”
“It’s easy to fall into that trap,” I said gently, “But you still have your whole life ahead of you. It’s never too late to start living for yourself”.
“Living for myself sounds like a daunting task”. “Sometimes the things that will help us the most are the hardest to start”.
“Thank you,” she said. “You’ve given me a lot to think about”.
And at the a sharp timer made itself known. One whole hour.
“Looks like that’s all of our time for today.” I said.
“Yes. Thank you again. Am I still allowed to come back next week for human therapy?”
“I’ll put you down.” She then stood up from the deep pits of the beanbag chair and headed towards the door. Pausing before the door, she seemed to think for a second. Turning around, her deep brown eyes gazed into the depths of my soul.
“You’ve been very helpful, John. As you have probably guessed, I am a very powerful and well-connected woman. You have helped me to see things from a new perspective, something I once thought impossible. I would like to help you too. I would like to help you find out what happened to your mother.”
“Are you sure? You are my client; you really don’t need to go out of your way for me.”
“I would very much like to do so. What is her name?”
“Ashley. That’s all I know about her.”
She frowned, “How many years ago was it when she disappeared again?”
I would never forget the day Mom left to never come back.
“13 years ago. Ever since then, I’ve been on my own.” Her expression fell as if someone attached a 100-ton weight to her perfectly symmetrical face. Flashes of emotions danced through her eyes, some of them too quick to pinpoint. But I was able to decipher some of them: guilt, fear, anger, and then more guilt.
And then I realized.
Hera already knew something about my Mom’s disappearance.
|
Child of Zeus. That, by itself, was the most important part about myself - not who I was or what I did, but who fucked my mother years ago.
It was a mark on me from the moment I was born, and all that came after came from that one thing. My very nature meant I was going to be important, but not because of me. No mather what I did, it would be thanks to my father and the accursed Ichor in my veins.
Free will and choice is lesser factors when you are a demigod. Your fate is determined at birth, and unlike humans, you are bound to ancient laws that maintain that fate. It was hopeless to wish for a happy ending.
I didn't always think of it like this, of course. When I was young, I was elated at my strength and speed. I was the fastest kid around, the strongest, the most athletic and gifted. Sure I got into accidents and strange situations I couldn't explain - animals attacking me, people trying to throw me into fires, seeing mythological creatures. Back then, I found it exciting.
Back then, I was blind.
Nobody told me who my father was, and my mother wasn't any help - he'd left her a shadow of her former self. Any time she looked at me, I knew she didn't see me. She only saw him. Back then I didn't know that the love I was showered with wasn't for me. Back then I thought she loved me.
Back then I was just a child.
I left my mother when I had enough money to move away. She'd been getting... Confused on who I was, and had started treating me as if I was my father - her lover. It sickens me to this day that I went along with it at first, just to cling to some semblance of love.
It hurt to hear my father's name spoken with such affection, such *joy*. As if this was all she'd ever dreamed of. She told me all about her life, all about the hollow loneliness she felt. All about how she'd raised his child like he'd asked, how she was so happy her burden had been worth it.
Burden...
I left soon after. Couch surfing among a few friends, always making sure I was a good guest. They almost looked sad when I left them, and I had to block their number more than once. Being the child of the god of Hospitality seem to do some... Interesting things to your host. Who would have thought?
Before long I stopped staying with friends altogether, just to keep the few I had left. Not like it was hard to find a place to stay for me anymore. Both women and men tried to get me in their bed, and I let them. I didn't know them, didn't love them, but I knew just the way to make them feel and how to act to pretend I did the same.
Still... It felt hollow. Fake.
One night when I was out, trying to find a place to stay, I stumbled on one of the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. She had beautiful dark hair, flawless almond skin and the most caring yet sad eyes I'd ever seen. She was dressed in a leather jacket above her blue dress, and she wore a golden necklace with green and blue stones put together in a pattern resembling eyes.
We struck up a conversation, and... For once, it didn't feel like I was looked at as someone else. There wasn't any awe in her eyes, nor a blush on her cheeks. There was just a... Sorrow to her, one I soon understood. Her husband wasn't faithful to her, and hadn't been for a long time.
As she spoke, there was a passion, a jealous love that colored her words. I wasn't sure what made me suggest it, but before long I suggested something stupid.
"Why don't you divorce him? Or cheat on him yourself?" The fury I saw directed at me was more than I could ever imagine could be conveyed in a single glare. Thankfully, she didn't strike me down where I stood, and simply told me that she wouldn't sink to his level.
Still... There seemed to be some intrigue in her eyes at my first suggestion. We kept talking, and throughout the conversation, she seem to itch towards the subject of her husband quite a bit. About how he used to be, how he had once had a wife before her whom he had been completely fateful towards. How his former wife disappeared and she hoped to fill the void. How she never felt she quite could, no matter how many children she gave him.
She told me briefly about his countless affairs, even as the bar started to grow empty. When it was time to close, I admitted I had nowhere to go, and asked if I could sleep on her couch.
She... Agreed, on the condition I told her my story aswell. I did, hesitantly, but the more she looked at me with those sad motherly eyes... Before I knew it, it all spilled out of me. Every time mother looked at me, every time she grew manic. Every birthday that didn't go through, every time she couldn't see me for me.
I didn't know how we got there, but before long, I was guided into this strangers home, to this woman's couch. With a gentleness reserved for a child, she put me to bed, wrapped in a blanket that smelled of home.
Without thinking, I thanked her and called her mother. The shock on her face melted into a smile. As I drifted off to sleep, she sang me to a deep and restful sleep. It was the first time in years I'd felt safe, felt at home...
|
Mewzicians
|
Elizabeth_Alexandria
|
2024-04-17 11:30:35
|
2024-04-17 11:01:52
| 50 | 22 |
kzyz5ko
|
kzyvy6i
|
1c5j8j9
|
1c5j8j9
|
[WP] While checking out an abandoned island with your new friends, you decide to look at the local pictures online. The only one nearby is a photo of you and your friends posted a month ago, before any of you even met.
|
"AAAAGH!" I screamed as Bonnie, one of the new friends I have made over the summer break, snuck up on me and grabbed me by the shoulders, instantly pulling me out of my uneasy slumber.
"HAH-!" she laughed loudly, clearly happy with the fright she gave me. "Come on lazybones, you've slept all day."
"Right, right. I'm going," I said and rubbed my eyes weakly. A stretch, a yawn and I was out of bed, heading out of the houseboat to join my new friends. It's been a fun couple of weeks - we met at an exclusive party and immediately hit it off, all four of us, and ever since that we've been getting from one spot of trouble into another, having the time of our lives. An endless party.
"Remind me- wha- aah!" I said with a barely suppressed yawn, "what we're doing on an abandoned island again, Ranjit?"
"Oh come on mate," Ranjit, the cleverly dressed man leading us all on this foolhardy expedition, responded, "it's an *abandoned island*! We explore it, find a chest o' gold, and get famous!"
"Right," I glared at him.
"Or, you know, just bond over the *epic* adventure," he added.
"*Right.*"
"Oi!" I heard from behind Ranjit, "not like we're going blind, innit?"
"Hey Summer," I smiled at the upbeat freckled girl that appeared from behind Ranjit.
"Aye, got us some satellite images. Lay of the land and all!" she smiled and pointed at her laptop. Fancy way of saying 'Google Maps' but who am I to judge? We huddled together, eager to inspect the island properly.
"Not many images, are there?" I said disappointed. "This one seems to be of this beach, click on it."
Summer obliged and the image of the beach we were standing on, judging by the shape of the nearby reef, started slowly loading. But with every pixel, the whole image grew more and more... wrong.
"Weird. This place is supposed to be abandoned, right?" I asked.
"Yeah," Ranjit noted.
"So who are the people in this photo?" I said and pointed to the 4 figures. "Zoom in?"
She did, eventually getting to street view. And we saw their faces.
Our faces.
It was an image of us as if taken by a photographer directly in front of us. We all looked up instantly but saw no one; yet the picture, dated more than a month back - before we've ever even met - showed us all in our current attire, standing where we currently were, with our currently dumbfounded looks.
"What's going on?" I asked in a hushed voice.
"I- I don't... I-" Bonnie tried to speak but found no words.
"What's this?" Ranjit said and pointed to the monitor. On the image - our portrait - was a blur, something behind us, dark and tall.
I tried to turn but was stopped when some sort of spike pierced through Ranjit's back, running him through and splattering us all with blood. My instinct kicked in. Flight.
I ran. Ran as fast as I could. I only managed to turn around once to see the thing, tall, hideous and unnatural, descend upon Summer with an equal level of cruel savagery, cleaving her nearly in twain. I saw the spike it killed Ranjit with was its arm, resembling a crab claw. I saw it snip Summer's head off as she tried to scream. I saw it look at me with dark, beady eyes; the only thing on its otherwise pale, smooth face. And then I stopped looking back and ran.
I ran. And ran. And ran. Until I could run no longer. My heart felt like it was going to explode from my chest, my lungs were on fire. I collapsed into a nearby shrub and tried my best to conceal myself with the spare leaves.
It didn't make sense. The photo was impossible. The monster was impossible. Ranjit and Summer - they - were they dead? Actually dead? This can't be happening. It can't. An abandoned island, no help, monster... is...
Is this Hell?
I had no time to finish the thought. I looked up and saw the creature, wet and slimy, hideous beyond measure, standing above me, pincer raised.
​
I screamed.
​
"AAAAGH!"
I screamed as Bonnie, one of the new friends I have made over the summer break, snuck up on me and grabbed me by the shoulders, instantly pulling me out of my slumber.
"HAH-!" she laughed loudly, clearly happy with the fright she gave me. "Come on lazybones, you've slept all day."
"Right, right. I'm going," I said and rubbed my eyes weakly. A stretch, a yawn and I was out of bed, heading out of the houseboat to join my new friends. It's been a fun couple of weeks - we met at an exclusive party and immediately hit it off, all four of us, and ever since that we've been getting from one spot of trouble into another, having the time of our lives.
An *endless* party.
|
"So...what's the name of that island again?" Sarah asked, swiping through on her phone.
"Hermit Island. Just off the Reef." I didn't look at her, instead kicking a glass bottle across the rocks. I winced when it shattered, then turned to my friends.
"Whoa," Sarah said, and turned her phone around. "Hey Mickey, come and look at this."
The waver in her voice caught my attention, and I jogged over the gravelly sand to see what had upset her.
She, Jason and Beth were gathered around near the front door of the hut, looking into Sarah's phone and muttering "no way!" and "that's gotta be fake, stop messing with us!"
"What's up?" I asked, jumping in behind Beth.
"I was scrolling through the pictures, wanted to add a few I took, and I found this." Sarah turned her phone to face me. "It's a picture of us, but look at the upload date."
My eyes crept down to the right-hand corner. January 17 - almost two weeks before.
"So it's set to the wrong time zone or something," I shrugged.
"Okay, even if that were the case," Sarah turned her phone back around and made a few taps, "you're the one that posted it."
Beth pulled the same photo up on her phone. "And look, all four of us are in the photo."
"So?" Jason asked, looking between the girls.
"So? So, do you see anyone around here who would take a photo of us looking at our phones, looking at this photo?" Sarah asked.
Beth suddenly sat down on a nearby rock, breathing a nit harder. "Guys, I don't feel so good. Can we go?"
Jason grabbed Beth's phone, leaving me to try to calm the girl. He turned a little, looking at the view, then suddenly spun 180 degrees and pointed to the hut's mouldering, rotted door. "Whoever took this is inside the hut!" he called, and raced off.
"Wait -- Jason!" Sarah called, chasing after him.
He ran into the hut yelling "gotcha" and vanished from our sight. Sarah, not far behind her brother, ran inside, calling out, "Wait, you idiot!"
Beth and I looked at each other, then waited for the pair to reemerge.
We waited for ten minutes, but there was no sign of them.
"Guys?" Beth called, standing up.
There was no noise from the hut. Beth slipped her hand in mine, looking up at me.
"Not funny, guys," I sighed pulling Beth along with me to the hut. She stayed behind me, holding my hand. "You can come out now, we're super scared."
"*Good*," hissed a voice, it's words rattling through my head and making my teeth hurt. "*We don't like...fear*."
I looked at Beth, who shook her head. I let her hand go, stepping closer to the hut. "Alright, Jason, you're being a bit of a dick."
The voice laughed, as cold as a graveyard. "*Come inside and stop me*," the voice called, its tone taunting. "*Show me what you've got*."
Beth held onto me. "Something's not right," she said quietly, looking at the wide maw of the house. "Don't go in there."
"Look, it's probably just Jason in there," I said, shrugging. "I'll go in, kick his ass, and drag them back out. You wait here. I'll be back on a minute."
Beth tried to cling to my hand, but I slipped away. "Mickey!" she hissed, throwing terrified glances at the house. "There's something bad there. Mickey!"
I ignored her, striding into the house. The interior was so black, I had trouble seeing the floor. Three paces in, I missed my footling and fell through the floor, into a deep hole. When I scrambled to my feet, I realised there was light here, somehow.
"*That's it*," the voice called from a small crack in the earth. "*Come a little closer, Michael*."
I took a few steps into the crack in the earth, and realised why I coild see light. There was fire up ahead.
"It's okay, Beth!" I called up to her. "I just have to check out this...fire..."
The crack opened up on a cavern, full of creatures unimaginable to the eye. I tried to step backwards, but found only dirt behind me. I was trapped, and I suddenly knew this is not where I wanted to be. This was bad, and there was no way out.
"*Hello, Michael*," the voice said, coming from my left. "*Welcome to Hell. Time to get to work. Those photograph lures won't take themselves*!"
|
SirPiecemaker
|
Mythic_Writing
|
2023-01-29 16:01:08
|
2023-01-29 15:53:59
| 198 | 24 |
j6dh6da
|
j6dg4ca
|
10o836s
|
10o836s
|
[WP] You decide you've had enough of being treated like a pawn or tool, and in the midst of battle abandon your blade. Which causes it to begin pleading to you and beg you to return to it.
|
Standing in the middle of the bloodstained fields surrounded by corpses, I sighed. The battle had shifted farther north, deeper into enemy territory. Looking around, the wounded groaned as I started to walk forward.
But what was the point?
If we won this battle, there would be another, and then another. If we lost, then there wouldn’t be much for me to think about after. I would most likely be executed. I couldn’t but wonder if that was all my life amounted to, a helpless pawn to be shoved into battle time and time again until I was too old, wounded, or dead.
At the edge of the battle, I hesitated, glancing down at my blade, and shoved it into the ground, before I turned away. The forest was just a short dash away. I could make it without being seen while chaos ensued in the battle. A whisper stopped me in my tracks.
“Don’t go.”
Turning back, I looked back at my blade, a faint glow emitting from it. “I’m sorry, I can’t keep doing this anymore.”
“Take me with you.”
I closed my eyes. It was more than just a blade. One that was imbued with magic that allowed it to be almost sentient, but also contained a wide array of powers. It was my partner and protector for the countless battles that I had fought.
But it would also serve as a beacon to the magician’s court if I took it with me. The royal insignia engraved on the hilt would make any chances of being discrete nil. “I’m sorry friend, I can’t. Let them know that I’ve died in battle.”
“I don’t want to shed blood anymore.”
It’s voice was like a child, whimpering. It sent a connection to me, one filled with emotions that made me close my eyes and sighed. It was also tired of the meaningless bloodshed. It too wanted to be free. Letting out a sigh, I walked back to my blade.
“Are you sure? Maybe in due time, you can be free too.” I whispered as I picked it up.
“It’s better by your hands now, then by the hands of the enemy. You alone should be my master.” It whispered back, and I nodded.
Mustering my strength, I winded back and struck the flat edge of the blade. A single blow, and it shattered. It had purposely removed its defenses for me to put it to rest. “Thank you friend, and rest well.” My whisper rode the winds as I disappeared from the battlefield.
|
Avoiding an arrow, being pushed by one of the noble houses' warrior who was running away...
I had enough.
Enough of being a mercenary, enough of being used as some cannon fodder.
I have seen too many of my comrades dying just because we aren't "valuable".
I threw my blade down, tripping a horse-rider, planning to ride away.
As I try to do that, I hear my blade.
It whimpers.
I look at my blade, my heart clenching.
My memories flood my mind, as I remember all the battles we survived.
We survived a war, several skirmishes, countless quests, and missions.
We protected heirs, heroes, and saints and saintesses together...
It broke when a dragon broke out of a binding spell, but I chose to forfeit my share of treasure just so my blade can be reforged...
But now...
"Sorry brother...
If I take you, I will be still seen as a warrior, my escape so much harder.", I mutter looking at the blade.
It rings weakly, but this time clearly, then it goes silent.
"Goodbye...", I whisper weakly, riding away.
Dodging arrows, and people I use the chaos to slip away.
I manage to arrive at a river, where I leave the horse, as I jump into it, letting the currents take me away.
Nor my wounds, nor the cold water, nor the uncertain future bother me.
But my hand, and heart ache...as I am missing something...
I survived.
I escaped.
Using whatever I managed to loot, and selling my armor and old garment, I managed to buy some land.
Years of battles sculpted my body, and I was lucky enough to have a good lass fall in love with me.
Now, I have two kids, and a good wife, and life is good.
I take care of the land, using tool after tool, but they all feel awkward.
None feel right in my hands...
Years have gone by, and I am still haunted by their memory...
My blade...
"It might still be there...", I sigh, as I continue to work the land...
|
BrainnFog
|
TheWanderingBook
|
2024-05-13 15:19:48
|
2024-05-13 14:54:43
| 89 | 21 |
l3v0rvt
|
l3uwkta
|
1cr0g9i
|
1cr0g9i
|
[WP] You pretend to be a small-time villain. At most, you annoy the local supers but your crimes never hurt anyone. To you it's all good fun. Things change when a truly sadistic super villain invades your turf and murders a few of the supers. No one has seen the extent of your true powers until now.
|
When people decide to become superheros, they usually end up in one of 2 categories: holier than thou over the top doo-gooder or the broody avenger, protecting the innocent that will never know.
Both are bullshit.
Sure, they start out ok, but within a year they stop seeing the little guy and only look at the big picture or big dollar items.
Stopping an alien invasion? Sure, go ahead, i'm rooting for ya big man.
Apprehending the art thief stealing the 500.000 dollar painting, when said painting was bought from a street artist a month ago for 15 bucks? The only creme there is the art world... and probably insurence fraud, now that I think about it.
All the while ignoring the waitress getting robbed around the corner, the kid falling from the fire escape whil drink dad sleeps on the couch and a million other little everyday things.
And honestly, i'm not that much better myself, though i try focusing on the "medium" crimes as I like to call them.
"Fight with DR. Dentist reveals secret meth lab"
"Faild heist reveals massive chemical dump, The Dentist still at large"
Sure, I annoy the stuffing out of some... ok most of the lokal heros, but what's 100k in property damage to save the cities water supply from carcinogens being dumped into it? Helping clean up the neighbourhood? The only thing i've done that caused real damage and inconvinience to others than the heros, politicians and a few corrupt beaurocrats was blowing up a nursing home that had more mold than blue cheese.
Sure they label me a criminal, insane and stuck me with that "DR tooth decay" title, but that just means i can make a them look even more rediculous, keeping them humble.
This time though, things have changed.
Alpha-man had moved to the city and started doing stuff to prove "he's the Alpha!!"
First, he broke Dovemans arms, then paralized gorilla girl, a fellow criminal, from the neck down.
Now though, he's killed Sir Sun and Lady Moon, and is going for Shooting Star... my Niece.
As I walk towards the fighting, I try to feel.. something, but it's like my emotions have fled from the void that right now personifies my power
As I walk towards the fight, Shooting Star is hit in the face, flying a good 42 feet and landing in a herp in front of me.
I sidestep her and continue walking towards Alpha-man.
"Do..doctor dentist?" Star coughs, her face swolen, bleeding from several missing teeth and a torn eyebrow.
I turn my head and lower my surgical mask, smile at her. "It's going to be okay honey" I tell her.
"Unc-coughcough-uncle Dan!?! You have to run! He's -cough- too strong..." Star says before slowly fading. She probably has internal injuries, I need to do this quick.
I turn back to Alpha-man, who is right in front of me now, spewing some bs about a No powers e-list villan not being able to stop the uber god that he is.
I start laughing a shrill, almost hysterical laugh, that would back up all the articles calling me insane. At least it stoppede his monolog.
"Listen up, you roided up 5 year old on a temper tantrum, every last so called hero on this planet has tried catching me at some point, all failing because something breaks and i escape, you think I don't have any power?!? Just because you wouldn't know subtlety if it smacked you in the face with the ugly bat, Even more than your parents already did. But tonight the gloves comes off, just for you, don't you feel special?" I tell him with a happy smile. God, I probable am a bit insane right now.
As the hunk of muscle takes a swing at me, several Lord cracks can be heard and he steps back, screaming in pain. Just like my Niece did a few moments ago...
"Aww bone decay in someone so young, you should really watch what you put into yourself" I tell him in a mocking concerned tone.
He roars in rage and pulls out some kind of gun from his back, probab what he used to get past my sister-in-laws powers. It doesn't matter.
As he puls the trigger, it explodes, leaving a bloody stump where his hand should be.
"Not maintaining your equipment means the sensitive little things inside it decays faster" I tell him.
He just stares at me, his mind being overloaded by all the signals going to it to the point where the pain isn't registiring. That won't doo. A few decayed nerves and he's back to screaming.
"Normally i wouldn't do this, but you've made it personal. Tonight, you're going to decay as slowly and painfully as possible. So prepare as Entropy takes you"
Edited for spelling
|
"The heroes and i,had had a friendly relationship at times. really my journey into so called villainy, started with My youngest sons Milos 6th birthday,him and his friends wanted it to be super hero themed,so i dawned my pirate suit,i haven't worn,in years,since i was captain of the Infamous Black rose pirates,i want to say,it was down in greece? or maybe spain,i dont really rember,it was 300 or so years ago now,but ill never forget ol lucy,my first mate,i met her when she was but a lass of 14,and she stole from me,.'
"but that's not what this story is about. see for years,i played the local villain,for a bunch of local super heroes,of various ages. Dragon of winter they called me.,i would do petty tricks,small snow storms,petty freezing of pipes and such,but id never hurt anyone and id always reverse the damage i did when the kids caught me. I've lived for many years now. I've traveled around the world and back,i spent time all over. but i had finally settled down once again. all the kids knew me by name,it didn't matter if i was a so-called villain,the parents and kids were happy ,and having fun,isn't that what's important?"
"i was at work in the office,and going over some reports,when a speical news brodcast from the heros went out.it was strange as it was a level 32 alret,the higest level they had,so i stopped and watched.,and what i saw... ill never forget. No parent should ever have to bury their child... but that day... ill never forget,the anger,the pure hatrad i felt for that bastard. the one they call the Blod viper,a brutal bastard,who has no moral compas."
*Special news report Blood viper Brutally murdred and torutred the local super hero team night owls,live on telvison,and carved their hearts out,daring anyone else to challange him,as he laughs a wicked laugh*
"when i saw the report,my heart sank,i prayed i was wrong.... but later,when i got home,Lucian,One of Milos friends parents,who works as a cop,informed me,milo was their... fighting for his life... and he passed away. on that day,hearing those words,my heart hardend once again,and it took me back to when i served over seas.. i dawned an old uniform with various tabs of elite forces ,and i let out a roar of anger,as i look to a picture of milo and his mom*
"im sorry,i wasnt able to protect him.... but i will avange him."
*i put out a chllange to a duel to the death for blood viper,many news comapnys and reporters came and looked at the situation,blood viper just laughed at seeing me,dressed in a t shirt,and shorts,*
"so your the so called villan who chllanged me? i beat the hero league and i heard your more a prankster then an actual villan,so what are you going to do about it,weakling."
*My eyes flash with an anger and fire they havent flashed with,in years,as i spoke calmly,yet the power and tension behind my words could be felt,as the very air shook*
"You killled,innocent children... who wanted to make this world a safer place. You really think just because im called a tristicker ,i am? i only did that for the children,and the local heros. it kept them safe from people like you."
*he waves his hands,as spirits of the dammend and demons of death appear,and he ties blood viper in chains as he tries to run*
"My true power,is far beyond,what they saw or know. today im going to make an example of you. milo was only 15,and he had a kid on the way. i dont agree with it. but you took away that chance,now your sins have caught up."
*Everyone watches in stuned silence as The person they thought was a low tier villain,brutally punished blood viper,and once he was done torutring him,he summoned a sword of Hellfire and ice,and split him in 2,*
"i lived a life to protect my sun,and then you did this. you pushed me to far."
*he says,as he burns the body and as his spirt leaves,the other spirits and demons drag it deep to the depths of hell*
*he looks up to the sky*
"dont worry son,after this,no one,hero or villan will bother your unborn child,or your girlfriend. you have my word,ill protect them. hopefully one day,we can meet again,at the gates."
|
Nurse_Tree
|
First_Hovercraft_197
|
2024-09-23 13:59:11
|
2024-09-23 11:53:12
| 129 | 45 |
loiy9co
|
loifflc
|
1fnekwz
|
1fnekwz
|
[WP] Your job description: 1) Sit in an empty room with a red button for 8 hours a day. 2) NEVER press the red button, no matter what happens. 3) Do not talk to anyone about the job. After many uneventful years, your phone rings and a stern, slightly panicked voice says: „Press the button. NOW!!“
|
"Right. Sit here, do nothing, NEVER press the button, don't talk to anyone about it. Easy." I needed something easy. Not to put too fine a point on it, but rent was coming due and I hadn't had much luck with jobs lately.
Now, the thing about easy jobs is that you have no idea just how DULL a job can be until you've done it for a few weeks. At first it seemed like Heaven. No snotty customers, no ringing phones, nobody shouting at me. Just me, a comfy chair, and the Big Red Button. The novelty got me through the first couple hours, but eventually time started to drag by ever more slowly. There just wasn't anything to \*do\*. I finally allowed myself a look at my watch after sitting for what seemed like forever, sure it must be time for lunch. It was 10:30. Damnit. Eventually I made it to lunch, then back to the desk. Yup, still boring.
The afternoon sped by like an exhausted slug, the seconds crawling past. An eternity went by before 5 pm, during which I was sure civilizations had risen and fallen. Finally, the blessed hour arrived. Sweet freedom! I went home to my dark apartment, ate a solitary dinner, and passed out in front of the TV.
That was the first day. By the end of the week I was losing my mind with the sheer tedium. I had to figure out something to DO. They wouldn't let me bring a book, or any electronics, or anything. It was frustrating.
I was late one morning, searching my sock drawer for two that were at least vaguely the same color, when I found the little baggie at the bottom. I'd had a few shrooms left over from a party awhile back, and forgotten about them. This was what I needed! "If I'm tripping balls, I can't be bored." I figured I could easily get to my desk before they kicked in. Without further thought, I popped a few into my mouth and slipped the baggie in my coat pocket. I was just coasting down the last block to work when I idly reached into the baggie for another mushroom, and it was empty. Shit. I hadn't meant to eat that many. How many was that? How much was left in the bag? I hadn't weighed it, but my hazy memories told me was maybe 4 grams, dried. Fuck. This was going to be one hell of a workday.
It seemed like I'd been at the desk for hours, but I knew that was just how time passed here. Nothing to do, so...I gave up, leaned back in the chair, and just counted the dots in the acoustic tiles overhead. Eventually, as a warm glow started to suffuse my body and a light sweat broke out on my forehead, the shrooms started to kick in. The dots in the tiles swam back and forth, marched in orderly processions across the ceiling, to the music of the tinny corporate musak speaker, which now thundered and roared like the symphony of the gods. A parade of wildly colored ants made its way down one breathing, pulsing wall, and started to meander across toward the desk. Hrm. I was idly wondering if that was going to be a problem, when Hell's own Klaxon erupted violently in my ears.
I jumped, uttering the most obscene oaths I knew, and turned to look for the source of the infernal noise. The phone. It was just the phone. Oh, god! The phone! The phone was ringing! Nobody had told me what to do if the phone rang. Do I answer it? I guess? I'd been told I wasn't allowed to make personal calls, so I'd ignored it. But now... it was ringing, and I was the only person there. What if it was important? I hadn't been given any instructions about the phone. What if whoever it was wanted something, and I had to get it for them, and I didn't even know how to find another person. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. What to do? The phone continued its wails, grating in my ears like steel. What if I don't answer it? What then? Will I get fired? Will something bad happen? I was too high for this.
Finally, I had an idea. I could just make this whole situation go away. As if the phone was going to bite me, I tentatively reached out and grasped the receiver, then picked it up and dropped it back on the hook. Instant relief. The phone stopped ringing, the red light stopped flashing, and normality was returned. My heart hammering away in my chest, I breathed a sigh of blissful relief.
I was just returning my attention to the file of multicolored ants, who were now coming ominously close to my chair, when it rang again. God-fucking-damnit!! I knew - I was going to have to answer it. My heart had returned to my throat and waves of nausea rolled over me as I turned on the speaker.
"Uh, H-hello?"
A metallic voice rattled back at me, faintly and somewhat garbled. Barely-controlled panic permeated his tone. "Oh, thank God.
You picked up this time. Listen to me. You need to push the button."
<cont in child>
|
Josh often felt like his life had no meaning. He went away to college to study literature and he failed an any attempt of social relationships.
The only person that still call him sometimes was his roommate Andy, but Josh thought the only reason was that he felt guilty about all the homeworks he copied from him during the year, and because he had this need to be liked by everyone so he tried too hard to be friendly.
Josh was a pretty good student, actually one of the best, but he didn't think much of that and he consider himself mostly lucky for his result. Nonetheless he graduated with excellent grades. He was hired as a professor.
He dreamt as a child to be like one of those professor you see in movies, that changes the life of their students and live a mark on the world. He didn't felt this as much as then when he was hired, he chose the university because he never had any other lead on what to do so he just went with it.
One day had a heavy fight with his mother that morning, that left him strained and nervous and that eventually led him to clap back, but hours later, against a student. Turn out this student was the son of some important functionaire or something like that, and his father pressed for him to be removed. He never kept contact with his colleagues and he interrupted every contact with his family.
He was at a laundry when he encountered the man who offered him the seemingly perfect job. They both were regular and Josh recognized his face even if they never actually talked to eachother. This time, the man approached him like he were the best of friends, and told him that there was an opening for a task that didn't required any special skills nor to interact or even see other people. The job consisted in sitting in an empty room, with a red bottom at the middle of it for 8 hours a day, without ever pressing the red button and without talking to anyone about the job. He said that no one would accept these condition and that someone even thought he was joking, or worst trying to screw them over, so he was desperate to find a person to hire and that he was basically begging anyone he met. He was really surprised when Josh said he would have take the job. It sounded like a perfect representation of the useleness of his life.
So, from the day after, Josh went to the room with the red bottom, and for the next six years his life went on without any changes. His mom often tried to called over the years, trying to make amend for their fight and asking him what he was doing for a living. He forgave her eventually, and he let her know that, but he refused to elaborate on any questions she may have on his personal life. He often went to the laundry and he often met the man again, they mostly have small talk, and nothing else.
It was another Monday at work, ordinary as every other day. His phone ringed, he sighed before answering. "Mum, I already told you that how I live and what I do is not your concern, just made peace with it and go on". "I'm not your mum Josh, now hurry and press the red bottom in the room". A familiar, panicked voice almost screamed the words, Josh took a while to put his finger on it. "Andy, I believe that's you, right?" "Press the bottom Josh, NOW". He seemed freaked out, in a rush. "I don't know what are you talking about or why are you calling me, so maybe take a breath and drink some water, or alcohol if it better fit your state, and then have a good day. Goodbye Andy" "no, you don't understand, you really need to-..." Josh closed the call.
He finished his shift and went home. He ordered an Hawaiian Pizza by dominos for dinner. For the first time he stopped to thinking about the strange interaction he had at the phone. For the first time in years he asked himself what he was doing, actually, with his life. What the meaning of his job was. What would have happened if he had played the bottom.
The following day he went to work, and after at least an hour of going trought unresolvable questions, he pressed the red bottom. He then took his jacket and left, directed to his mother house. He owned some explanation after all. He texted Andy. "I did as you asked me by the way, even if I totally don't understand how you would possibly knew about anything. do you want to get a beer one of these days?"
And so, Josh's life went on. He often went to the laundry. He never met the man ever again.
Edit: paragraph
|
Captain_Hammertoe
|
None
|
2023-01-03 00:22:39
|
2023-01-02 21:02:31
| 30 | 12 |
j2pa5dj
|
j2og35e
|
101bwam
|
101bwam
|
[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."
|
"Members of the Council, Humanity may be new to the galactic community, but we know how to follow rules. We also know when rules have been broken." The human ambassador adjusted her tie before continuing, "so why were the Thierian ships allowed to track, disable, and board a human transport vessel? A vessel which, I remind you, was not only unarmed but was bringing aid to the homeworld of this Council's chair."
At this, the Chairperson erupted. "Your people detonated their drive core! They vaporized thousands of Thierians in an instant! Why would your people do this?!"
"Humanity has a saying, Councilor: 'Never give up the ship'. We will die before we allow bastards like the Thierians to gain access to our secrets."
The chamber fell silent. No one had dared insult the Thierian people before. They possessed the largest military in the galaxy, easily dwarfing the next 3 races combined. Their laser weaponry could melt ships with ease.
"So," continued the ambassador, "I will restate our demand: reparations of one billion credits paid to each family of the deceased humans. 200 billion credits in all."
"And if we refuse?" Asked the Thierian Councilor, rising on all 6 legs to his full height of 10 feet.
"Then Humanity will collect its debt in blood. And we will collect interest." Her eyes narrowed as she continued. "Your worlds will burn. The races you have enslaved will be freed. We will destroy every ship we come across until we consider the debt paid."
The Thierian Councilor roared with laughter. "You have jokes, human! But none can defeat us! Let us see your best effort to collect your debt!"
"So be it."
|
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.
|
4thTimesAnAlt
|
Nature_Walking
|
2023-05-02 14:04:47
|
2023-05-02 01:15:20
| 159 | 45 |
jikbjft
| null |
1354r1x
|
1354r1x
|
[WP] You, an everyday civilian, watch in horrified disbelief as the so-called ‘hero’ yet again chooses to spare the villain who murdered your spouse and children, alongside countless other families, and prepares to take them back to a prison or asylum they have escaped from tens of times.
|
Mike waits on top of Central City Maximum Security Prison along with a squad of armed guards. A cool night wind brings an ashy smell from the manufacturing district in the south, which is still on fire. A distant shadow in the sky is getting closer. This is the seventh time an incident involving the Human Pestilence has caused over 100 deaths. As usual, the City guardian hero, Justice, has captured him.
Justice Man lands gently on the roof and pushes a tied-up Pestilence forward. Mike steps forward with a forced smile.
"Thank you, Justice, for saving our city. We will take it from here."
Justice looks around suspiciously. "Who are you? Where is the commissioner?"
Mike motioned the guards to put reinforced cuffs, restraints, and face guards on the prisoner.
"I am Mike Feng, I am head of Ultra Security Solutions. We took over the contract to manage this prison from Waylian Corporation. I believe Commissioner Jordan was reassigned."
"What?!? How come I wasn't informed? I own... I mean, I work with Waylian Corp closely."
Mike looks behind him at the guards bringing Pestilence into the elevator. "Bring him to the basement. I will be right there."
Mike slowly turns back to Justice. "It was an emergency act passed by the city council. I know you have a close relationship with Waylian Corp, but they have let too many prisoners escape. Even though the city has passed the death penalty law, none of the super criminals ever stay in jail long enough for it to matter."
A frown creeps up Justice's brow. "Death penalty is wrong, no one should take another's life."
"Even to save hundreds of future potential lives?" Mike shook his head. "You don't need to answer because it doesn't matter. We are here to do what the democratically elected civilian government has asked us to do. I hope you are the same."
Justice looks like he is about to argue but thinks better of it. "A word of advice, Mike. Don't get too comfortable, Waylian owns half of this city." With that, he flies into the night.
Mike stays on the roof for a while. "Justice has seriously overestimated people in this city's willingness to be props in his catch and release hunting reserve." He thought to himself, reaching for his phone.
"This is Mike. How is Operation Swift Justice?"
"Completed? That is great. Please inform the city council that Pestilence has been judged by a jury, sentenced, and executed in 90 minutes, just like I promised. Tell council leader Judy that her daughter was avenged."
|
I've never really cared about the families who lost their loved ones to a dirt bag. I've always thought: "as long as it isn't me. I don't care." It's true. I've never gave two shits about the prison system in terms of death penalty, rehabilitation, or punitive action. None of that bothered me. Because I never planned on going to prison. I never planned on my kids or my wife going.
I was a dude who worked at a small non-profit library and whose wife was an author of children's books. My daughter who was only 2 stayed home with my wife. We were a perfect family.
She wrote to kids. I helped families. And, we both were raising the perfect little girl. A kid who was perfect in the sense of curiosity. There weren't many rules in my family. The rules were help foster ideas, curiosity, and growth. But stay away from situations that'd push you in deep.
Again, I'd say we were a pretty progressive family. We helped the community but in just in a calming way! So, why? Why is this dirtbag who broke into my house allowed to get off? Villains? Heros? There is no such thing.
We put powerful assholes in prison just to watch them walk free. The villain that killed my wife and daughter was some offended asshole from another country. Sent some hitmen to kill my wife and child over an illustration book. The illustration?
Well, I'm not going to tell you assholes. What? You think I want to die? No. I don't. Because the rich and powerful get off. The ones with the loudest voices push the narrative.
But the guy didn't just kill my family. No, they made sure to make a clean deal of it. They murdered the families of the publisher, editor, accountant, and our killed our land lord. Why? All she did was make one illustration. And, what do those heroes do? Oh, the investigators of the world. My heroes? Nothing. They fabricate their little stories or hide away the details. Helping these assholes get away.
But I am not letting this slide. There's only one hero I trust. And, that's Spider Jerusalem. Be prepared you fuck wad. I'm coming for you. After I learn from the best.
|
strangedigital
|
SerenSkies
|
2024-06-14 19:23:46
|
2024-06-14 18:42:46
| 119 | 24 |
l8miijw
|
l8mbdvo
|
1dfq4yp
|
1dfq4yp
|
[WP] Take a normally boring activity, but make it sound exciting.
|
I gently touched the door, wishing to feel the warmth of a living soul behind it. I looked around at the empty bar, and pulled my hand away from the cold door. Without thinking I wandered between the tables, remembering all the interesting people I had helped move on. 300 trillion souls, and I remembered every one.
A knock at the door made my shoulders fall. How was I going to explain this to him?
"Sorry John, but I still can't let you in." I whispered through the door.
"Samantha died this morning. Its my turn now." I put my hand on the cold door and held my breath.
"My wish was to be the last to die. Samantha is dead now and its just me left. Let me in!"
"No." I heard a gasp from the door. "Theres still someone left, so you can't die yet."
"The lights are off! You told me that only happens when the last living soul dies!"
I sighed and opened the door. John was hunched over in his wheelchair, barely able to stay upright. "To be alive you have to be able to die. You can't die until the genie keeping you alive dies, and he can't die until he has fullfilled your wish."
"I didn't wish to live forever! Thats not what I wished for!"
I sighed, remembering the countless souls who have said that.
"Genies are tricky like that. He followed the letter of your wish, so theres nothing I can do. Some things are more powerful than death. If it makes you feel better, the genie is pretty miserable too."
John started to mutter a lot of swears to himself and started to wheel away. I watched him struggle to move his arms, and after a couple minutes I closed the door and turned to the one occupant in the corner.
"You could just let him die. The big one is often lenient with mercy rule breaking."
"No way." The blue being rose from his chair. "Once my last wish is fullfilled, she does an audit of all wishes I ever granted."
"Thats what you get." I chuckled. "Seem cruel though, to make him suffer for eternity to avoid punishment. One day she will realise."
"For me this is not cruel."
|
Well, that was that. I sighed softly and reached for the remote. I took a moment to turn up the music a little as I cleaned up my little afterlife bar. Everyone and everything had moved on. My job was done. I could finally hang up the cloak and scythe for a time. Until the next creation event, anyway. But that was a long time coming.
The soft strains of an Old Earth composer, Nobuo Uematsu, his name was, I think, his songs wafted through the bar as I swept and mopped my floors one last time. I would sing along occasionally, and take a moment to dance with my mop. I wiped down the counters, polished all my glasses, stacked up all the chairs.
I ambled over to the front door, looking out over the afterlife, smiling warmly as I saw a few people I recognized. Abraham Lincoln, Samaus of the Consortium, Peregin of the Hegemony, Kth'lak of the Uzu Federated Planets. Kth'lak loved his decaf iced coffee. Weird for an Uzu to enjoy a human drink, but he still bought one occasionally. I would wave to the occasional passerby, the children would still beg me to play monsters and aliens, or cowboys and indians, or specops and opfor, or whatever variant. After a long moment, I stepped back inside and hung up my sign, for the first time in millenia. Closed, it said.
I fumbled with my keys for a moment, and made sure to lock the door before ambling across the floor. There was a soft click as I tapped the lightswitch, plunging my little slice of afterlife into darkness. As I turned to leave, something stopped me.
A gentle knock on my front door, and a voice calling out.
"Hey, anyone in there?"
(feel free to continue this, guys. wanna see where you take my tale.)
|
CreationsOfReon
|
FireInHisBlood
|
2025-04-06 16:56:32
|
2025-04-06 09:17:39
| 40 | 29 | null | null |
1jsnx8l
|
1jsnx8l
|
[WP] You have been a mountaintop prophet for 1,000 years. Each person only gets one question and you're sure you've heard every question that can be asked. Until one day someone uses their one question to ask, "How are you doing?"
|
I've always been a meditator. Staring into the sky or tidepools by the ocean, looking inwards and learning about myself. Then moving on from self study, and on to tinkering with myself. By the time I was twenty five, I had achieved a state I am reasonably sure is the enlightenment described by my spiritual teachers. The frigid cold and inaccessibility of mountain tops called to something in me. I sat on the summit alone for ten days, and I made a breakthrough. I saw truths, islands of time in the past and the present that were stable. Limited future vision and the ability to vouch for the true history of my world.
I took the name Gaius, and made it my life to sit in contemplation. I became a legend, and others would seek me. Each had one question, one thing that I could answer with my capacity to generate prophecies. Years rolled by, and I was eighty eight when I realized I was not aging. My calling would transcend the usual limits of mortality.
Years went by, more visitors coming to me as my renown and the continent's population grew. Questions, mostly about small things, some about things of consequence, and a few that were truly interesting to see the answers to. After almost a millennia, I thought I had heard them all. There could be nothing new to ask me, all would simply be at best a close derivative of one that had come before.
But then, on the precise day of my thousandth year on the mountain top, an unassuming pilgrim came to me. I met her eyes, and I could tell that their question would be one of the interesting ones. Nodding my head to give my assent, she spoke, "How are you doing?"
I tilted my head. No one in my long tenure on this mountain had asked me about myself. I had spent so long looking inward, emptying myself, that I had quite forgotten about the part of me that was flesh. My reserves of will were incredible, but there were some basic truths I had not tuned into. The truth was I was hungry, cold, and my muscles were stiff.
"I.. I have never been asked that. I suppose the truth is that I am tired of sitting up here. I have mastered myself, perhaps more than any before. Part of me would like a change, but I do not know what I would do with myself."
She nodded, a deep capacity for thought and introspection plain in her eyes. "It is true, there are no goals left for you in this life. I could make you an offer. I could send you on your way to a higher plane, a great step up from the life you have lived as a mere human. I would then take your place, and become this mountain's prophetess."
I feel tears form in the corners of my eyes, despite the bitter cold. I have been here for so long, the idea of stepping away from this world and up to an even greater one stirs something deep in my core. My hands, shaking, come up to clasp hers. “Please, yes. Send me onward” She caresses my forehead, and I feel myself begin to fall away. The cord connecting my mind and soul to this place ceases to be.
I tumble, through space, through time. I go towards a blinding light. Then I have a body, a touch. The world is so much richer. I am being born, born in a world so far beyond the world I once knew. I expect the memories of my old life to fade, but they remain as I come to terms with this hyper reality. My thousand years of asceticism and meditation was just the beginning.
|
Mortals think I offer games as a kind of last request. The reason varies: last requests on their end, some misunderstanding that winning will return them to life, or even something as simple as boredom on my part. You may ask how my job could be boring, but that's easy to answer. I have to handle every soul one by one, and time shuffles itself like a deck of cards so that even if two mortals die at exactly the same time they still arrive on my doorstep in order and alone. As soon as I finish preparing and sending off one soul, the next comes through. Thus, the job ends up feeling the same, and I get bored.
Thankfully human games have gotten better over the years, more complex. I've played dice with pirates and Roman militants, cards with western gunslingers and French revolutionaries, chess with countless nobles. Long forgotten games dug up by archaeologists are always a fun classic, and they get so excited to finally learn the rules of ancient board games nobody (frustratingly) ever bothered to write down the rules for. In the most recent age, electronic games with screens and buttons of all shapes and sizes have become popular.
I've been challenged on arcade cabinets that feature fighting tournaments and street racing, console games with both story and mindless fun, and computer games featuring strategy and an unfathomably massive library of mods for every game those inventive programmers can get their hands on.
The most recent soul is another painfully young one, and my ancient heart aches even after guiding *so many* of them. I offer a comforting smile to the child as I kneel down to get eye-to-eye with him.
"Welcome, child," I start, bowing my head as my smooth baritone voice gently rumbles the ground. Singers frequently challenged me as well and I'd yet to disappoint. "This is a crossroads for the soul, and I am a humble guide. Take as long as you need to get your feet under yourself and be ready to move on. If you would like, we may play a game of your choosing before such a time comes to pass."
"Guess that answers if the surgery went alright or not," the boy said, smiling sadly at me.
"There's no way to go back? They'll all be so sad now." I raised my head to look at him.
"Where you tread from this place is not up to me, but none may return whence they came. I am sorry, but one wish of many I cannot grant is to return the life you have lost." The boy thought on this for a moment.
"... Then, could I play a game with you? I had a Minecraft world I was working on, but I never got to finish it." My smile was much easier to wear at this, and I chuckled.
"It would be my pleasure. Let us play and build for a while. Would you prefer with mods or without?" Fate has a funny way of being cruel to the undeserving, but i try my best to make up for it after she takes her due. That boys laughter warmed the walls of my home more than any fire could ever hope to as we dug and built for hours. I hope the path he walks after leaving will be a pleasant one.
|
Saint_Of_Silicon
|
Jyx_The_Berzer_King
|
2024-08-25 02:23:09
|
2023-02-26 17:19:14
| 107 | 30 |
ljsslq8
|
ja3tqzv
|
1f0klj6
|
11c95gs
|
[WP] You are a budget mage. While most of your colleagues use costly ingredients, rituals that take weeks to prepare and use a new spell for every problem, you only know a few spells, use common household ingredients and prepare rituals within minutes. They unjustly deride your work as shoddy.
|
"I shall bind the stars and bend the whims of a galaxy to soothe thy terrible pain," said the golden mage.
"I shall will the gods to erase this stupendous sickness out of your body," said the silver mage.
"I shall mix some ginger, vinegar and bicarbonate of soda and he shall shite this out of his arse by noon," said the ruffled mage, who had been woken up from his afternoon nap for this.
There was a long, slightly disgusted silence following these admittedly coarse words.
"How barbaric," said the golden mage.
"He's got a stomachache!" shouted the most-definitely angry mage, pointing at the ailing noble, "he's been downing cauliflowers for two days and needs a good fart, this all."
The silver mage scoffed. Not the usual scoff done by the bored person who finds no better way to express having heard words by blowing some air out of the nose and making a face. No. This was more of a show-all-your-disdain-towards-the-lower-classes-in-the-span-of-an-instant scoff. Unfortunately for the silver mage, the mage who was done giving a crap had gotten the message.
"Oi! Cunt!" he shouted, rolling up the sleeves of his nightgown, revealing some very non-scholarly forearms, "why don't you come here and make that face right before mine?" By the time he was done asking the question, the silver mage had already dived under a low table.
"It was a really bountiful cauliflower harvest this year," said the noble who hadn't been asked, "I had to celebrate by eating lots of cauliflowers."
"I can still bend the stars and galaxies if needed," said the golden mage to nobody in particular.
"Listen mate," said the aggravated mage to the noble while starting to throw ingredients into a cauldron and lighting a fire in the middle of the chamber, "I cook this, you drink it, you fart. Pain's gone. But open the window, because it's about to smell."
Three pair of eyes looked at the cauldron and fire with some confusion. Normally, a mage would make them appear out of thin air. This mage didn't. He had carried ingredients, cauldron and firewood with him.
Which was all the more impressive considering he had been woken up minutes ago without being told what the problem was.
"It was a really, big, bountiful cauliflower harvest," said the noble to break the silence, not realizing silence would have been preferable to hearing his voice, "we even had lots of cauliflower thefts and there's still enough for everyone."
The silver mages, from the flimsy cover of the low table, contorted to point at the cauldron in confusion.
"Wot u lukin at, mate? When was the last time you had to lift a curse or kill a dragon? 99% of the time it's a cow suffering from gas, or a noble suffering from gas, or a noble who wants a new perfume (which can also be considered gas depending on how you look at it). You think they'd write books about dragons and curses if it was common? Nah mate, it's because it's so rare that it's interesting. But this!" The angry mage planted his index in the noble's belly, which left out a noise warning about an incoming bad smell, "that's reality for most folks around here."
"I really wanted to bend the stars and galaxies."
"Bend them somewhere el... what's that noise?"
Indeed. Beyond the fascinating discourse about a variety of gazes, the boiling kettle and the bickering mages, a low rumble rose. Mighty, powerful. Roaring.
"A dragon!" shouted the silver and golden mages.
"U wot mate?" asked the not that well behaved mage.
Gold turned to a comet and sprang out the window, silver levitated - with the low-table on his back and followed gold. They were gone in a whisk to deal with the legendary, once-in-a-millenium threat, while the exhausted with this nonsense mage stayed to make a rich person fart.
To this mage's credit, it worked wonders, and the sweet scent of digested cauliflowers filled the room with the praise of a very happy noble as the trumpet of judgement times started to roll outside and the stars were about to fall on Earth like angry comets.
The gold mage appeared in a whirlwind of golden dust.
"Believe it or not, and I know I don't," he told his esteemed if hard to work with colleague, "but I need your help."
"How?"
"I translated the dragon's tongue with the power of stars and galaxies. Didn't think I'd get to use it today."
"And?"
"He's got a stomachache."
"Oh."
A whirlwind of silver dust, and in came the other mage.
"I can bend the will of the gods so they lend us a bigger cauldron. And lots of bicarbonate too, you know, just in case," said the silver mage.
The room got dark. Through the window, the large, iridescent eye of the dragon obscured their world and gazed through them.
"Aye. We gonna need a really big cauldron for this one," said the surprised mage.
"So that's the one who stole all the cauliflower!" the noble felt the need to add.
All three mages turned to face the noble.
"Man, shut the fuck up," they said in unison.
|
"There! All set and done! Aetherium luminata!"
The chanting voice of Phyldiane filled the dark, cobblestone-lined room with trembling echoes, as her cooking pot over the brightly-blue sparkling flames glows with its embers. It was a success! And the slightly charred pot was filled with a cyan liquid, whose turbulent, oil-like essence swirl amidst the heat.
"I did it! Ha! A lightning buff potion!"
She danced quite a bit upon her success. She was so proud of her work. And what's more, none of her fellow classmates at the Incantorium Academica ever knew that she only spent a meager 5 white pearls on her ingredients.
"Take that, Mistulia! Once I show this to them tomorrow, that shoddy witch can shut the hell up on me!", she uttered in a gruntled tone as she slowly brews the cooked potion onto her glass bottle. In her mind, she insistently remembers what happened earlier at the Incantorium with the confrontation she has with her after class.
"You crazy! That's impossible, flea den.", Mistulia insisted, looking straight at Phlydiane's face. "Either you have to pay for a diamond crystal for it or you take months of cooking for that lightning buff potion to get."
"Nah, I can do it in hours, even tomorrow!", Phlydiane confidently told her. "Don't make it sound impossible just because I am better than you.", she said as her eyes rolled out.
"Oh, look who's talking. That one girl who thinks she is so good and can defy magic rules just because she got an A+ score in Mrs. Gemphrian's test!", Mistulia said in a mocking tone. "You will never do that, flea face, that is what the Book of Incantarions say is the minimum."
"Your rules don't apply to me, oh please. Unlike you who sticks with your books, I can make my own ways and explore. You are just smart, but not creative."
Mistulia casually puts her hand in her bag as if she is getting something.
"Alright, let's make a deal young lady. If you don't have a lightning buff potion by tomorrow, you drink this!", Mistulia said as she shows a bottle of brown liquid.
"What the hell is that?", Phlydiane asks in quite disgust.
"Oh, just my little ventrem confractio bottle. Drink it, and see how you puke your guts all over the place to my heart's desire!", Mistulia said with a grin.
"Deal! However if I brought, YOU drink that crap.", Phlydiane told her.
"Oh sure, either way. I will not drink this, trust me. You better off prepare your leather bags as you barf all over the place. Face me tomorrow, 2 AM at the moonsilver fountain at the plaza."
Phlydiane agreed to her demands, and walks away while being stared at with her classmates around her.
"Why are you staring at! Get off your lives, suckers! I got a job to do!", she said angrily as she hurried home.
Phlydiane, just finished with he potion work, raises her lightning buff bottle. At that moment her father, the great mage-alchemist Pernigcian, enters her room.
"Oh, what's that young lady? An experiment underway? You like to follow my work, don't you?", her father said as he folds his magic robes away. Chaffed with a beard and wearing his spectacles, he turns towards his daughter as she spoke.
"Yeah, I did this potion. Because my classmate couldn't believe me that I can make this in just a short time. So I made a bet on her."
"Really? You making bets now? That doesn't sound too nice for you to do."
"They just don't know your methods, father. They don't know your ideas and kept insisting that age-old Incantations book! Your ideas of alchemy can change magic!"
Her father laughed quite a bit, and patted her on her shoulder.
"Phlydiane, be responsible, okay? I don't want to reveal this to anyone. I trust you to keep it a secret."
"Why do you want it to be secret? This is marvelous!"
"Phlydiane, I don't know what will happen. If people found out about this, they might saw us as sorcerers, using black magic. And all I just want is your safety. I don't want you to get into trouble. So please, keep our methods secret, okay?"
Phlydiane reluctantly agrees as her father embraced her.
"Care to take a look at what you have done?", he asks her. Phlydiane reaches out her glass bottle.
"The lightning buff aetherium luminata. Let me guess, you used coal for this, right?" Phlydiane smiled a bit. "Coal and diamond are just the same form of one thing, just arranged differently. And that is what makes this possible. You will really make expense of doing it the old way. But hey, this is the last time you will do this. Keep it hidden as much as possible, okay?"
"Very well, father. I'll keep my promise.", Phlydiane agrees.
|
Ataraxidermist
|
JaydeeValdez
|
2023-03-29 18:50:38
|
2023-03-29 17:46:47
| 366 | 132 |
je6bsc4
|
je61rgk
|
125ryvp
|
125ryvp
|
[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!”
|
“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!”
The second the words left my lips I knew I'd made a mistake. My father had never been an emotional man, but I saw his screwed jaw relax into a frown, and then soften to nothing. He took half a breath, opening his mouth to speak before reconsidering his words.
He wouldn't meet my eyes.
"Dad..."
"You're right. I've got 40 or so left. Good point." My dad shoved his hands in his pockets and backed out of the room, closing the door behind him as he did.
I stared at the door for a moment. It was going to open right? He'd come back and scream at me, tell me that I'd been rude and that I shouldn't talk back to him like that and--
It didn't open. He didn't come back. I'd wanted him to leave me alone. I'd won, right? This was what I wanted and...
I flopped backward onto my bed and stared at the false starts on the ceiling for too long. I was right. He was only going to be here for 40 years. I'd still be in school when I was attending his funeral. What the hell? Was he even going to know where I worked? When I found a mate, when--
The door opened, I sat up.
Dad was back in the doorway, his arms crossed as he leaned against the frame. He'd cleaned his glasses while he was out. Dad didn't speak for the first seconds, just taking several deep breaths. Was he building up courage? How much was he going to yell. I deserved all of it. I just wanted to know.
"Cass," he said. My name sounded so human when he shortened it. "I just wanted to come back and--"
"Dad, I'm so sorry."
"Cass," he said, "just let me finish. I came back because I was hurt by what you said--"
"I know I'm sorry--"
"I was hurt by what you said, but it's also just true. I need you to think about it the way that I do." Dad stepped into the room and joined me on the bed, sitting beside me while I crossed my legs to make room. "I'm only going to be here for a short time in your life, right?"
"Yeah and I'm so--"
"Cass it's not about being sorry. But I should have talked to you about this more before." He put an arm on my shoulder. "You're right, in the long term for you, what I think won't matter unless you make sure it does."
"What?"
"Your Mom has a whole lifetime to figure out what you mean to each other. Heck. You're gonna be an old lady before she's hitting 1000. But Cass, I-- I don't have that long."
"I know and I'm sorry about what I said, I didn't mean--"
"Kid." He squeezed my shoulder. "It's not about being sorry. I don't have that long to make an impression on you, but I really want to ensure that I do."
"Dad."
"You don't have to care what I think, and there's no good reason why you should Cass, but I hope you want to. That's my job right."
"I--"
"Can't only be a pest for 40 years. You need more lectures than that young yady."
"Dad... ugh."
|
"My Lord, I have no clue who these mortals are. Why are they-"
"*These four mortals are the key to saving my Realm!*" the King of the Amethyst Court bellowed. "They seem to know you, so you better get them comfortable with their new role as Protectors of this land! Oh, and don't out yourself as an Amethyst Courtier to these mortals."
I bowed slightly. "Of course, My Lord. But mortals? Truly?"
"Yes. Now go, before I send you to that one part of my Realm that you recently got for me. You know, the one that the thermostat is broken?"
"Right away."
~*~*~*~*~
I looked at the mortals, shaking my head slightly. Fragile beings. I still do not understand why my Lord chose these weaklings to save these lands. The war that the Crimson Queen began with Znanel is an immortal matter, to be dealt with the Blood-Knights and the Knower-Keepers.
"Wow, Isoth! You got to talk face-to-face with the god of this place?" a sad looking girl with her hair dyed a powder blue walked up to me. Marienne, I think her name is.
A young man with mousey brown hair was the next to bombard me with his energy. "What did he say? I know we are meant to save this realm but-"
"SILENCE, FOOL!" my voice shook crystalline purple leaves off of the tree. "We are all to choose how we want to look in this realm. Man, Mer, Beast, Manbeast, Mermanbeast, whatever. Just choose, and choose quickly. The forces of Znanel are upon us."
Another young man, but with short blond hair, looked up from his book. "Wood elf."
Immediately, he grew shorter, his features turning more angular and wood-tinged.
Marienne was in awe. "Silas, who knew you would look so good like that!"
The mouse haired male jumped up and down. "Can I be Mousefolk?"
Much like how Silas became as he is now, so did this male.
"Way to go, Benji," the last mortal clapped slowly. "Way to out yourself."
Benji pouted. "What about you, Myata? What will you be?
Myata looked up at the sky. "Make me into a powerful warrior. With a sword. I like swords a lot."
"A mortal after my own heart," I smiled as the androgynous form became their desired self. "Now, Marienne, what do you want to be?"
"I liked Myata's idea. Something like that?" Her transformation started. "Only less swords, and more magic, please."
Benji twitched his ears in my direction. "Isoth, what about you? What will you be?"
"In my fucking armor is what I'll be," I started marching southwards towards my domicile. "And that's what you lot had better start considering, too. Light, medium, or heavy. Or unarmored and let your guts feed the wildlife for all I care."
|
Writteninsanity
|
RosenrotEis
|
2024-08-14 16:56:28
|
2023-02-27 08:05:36
| 381 | 20 | null | null |
1es40qy
|
11ctaxn
|
[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.
|
"Daddy, he's so cute." Judith clutched my hand as the tiny red dragon dragged its hoard, a single copper coin, across the floor of the cave. "Can I have him?"
I sighed, sliding a platinum coin from my pouch into her grasp. "Alright, dear. If that's what you want."
"Here, Draggy." I watched my daughter slide to her knees, offering the coin to the miniature monster. Like her sister she'd inherited my elven appearance, with only a slight crimson tint to her skin testifying to her demonic mother. "Here, don't you want this pretty coin?"
The tiny dragon stared up at her, growling, then sniffed, its attention suddenly on the silver coloured disc in her fingers. "Aww, come on, little guy."
I stepped back, taking a seat, leaning against the wall, the bulk of my brigandine thumping against the stone. The dragon cast a glance in my direction, then returned to the coin, obviously wondering if it could grab the platinum and run.
"Father..." Delilah entered the cave, feet padding softly. The dragon tensed at her words, and Judith gave her an angry look.
"Shush." Delilah's golden eyes narrowed in confusion, then she saw the dragon Judith had dubbed 'Draggy'.
"Wait? That's the dragon?" She joined me by the wall, leaning back, her long scabbard bumping my shoulder.
"Seems to be." I slipped my hand into another pouch and handed her some jerked meat. "Guess we'll see what Judith can do with him."
"I guess so." Delilah bit into the meat with sharp teeth.
"Sheesh, you two." We both heard Judith mutter as she returned her attention to the little dragon. "Come on, Draggy."
The dragon hesitated, looked at Delilah, then me, then Judith again, sniffing at the coin proffered. "Come on, Draggy." Her voice was soft, cajoling.
The tiny dragon slowly began to approach, keeping itself between Judith and its one copper coin. Judith's gaze was predatory but, given their succubus mother, that was a look both my girls defaulted to.
It sniffed again, its snout brushing my daughter's slender fingers. Delilah's, like mine, bore the calluses of swordwork, but Judith worked magic far beyond the level we could manipulate. Her fingers were still soft, unmarked even by the fire she wielded with such skill.
'Draggy' clambered onto Judith's hand, stretching out to touch the platinum coin. "It's yours, if you want it," she told the small beast, "but I have a lot more you might like."
The dragon looked up, a question on its tiny face. "Of course. Silver, gold, lots of platinum. All the gold you could ever want." I found myself chuckling at that. Dragons were not renowned for their modest appetite for gold, even dragons less than two inches long. "Dad?" She asked over her shoulder.
"Yes?"
"The coin pouch, give it to me." I instantly had regrets. A dragon, however small, would quickly come to resent me dipping into 'its' coin purse. Delilah placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Here, use mine." She slipped the pouch from her belt, then floating it to Judith with a touch of will. "What happened to yours?" Judith shook the pouch open, glancing into it to confirm its contents before answering.
"Oh, you know. Buying this and that." The two of us sighed in unison. Delilah was pleasantly frugal, but money ran through Judith's fingers like water. Thankfully it was Delilah who did our budgeting.
Judith offered the open bag to Draggy, the tiny dragon seemingly overwhelmed by the handful of gold coins presented. Without further hesitation it dived in, its small body causing the coins to clink against each other.
Judith laughed, tipped the platinum into the bag, then stooped and lifted the copper coin, dropping it into the bag too. "See, so cute."
Her sister and I joined her, looking over her shoulder into the bag. Draggy lay half buried in coins, the expression on its reptilian face as close to beatific as a dragon was ever likely to display. "So cute." Delilah echoed her younger sister.
I sighed. I guess we have a dragon now. A very very small dragon.
|
'Seriously? That's it!?' Marion exclaimed, face folded with disbelief. The two Martinez twins had roughly the same annoyed shock on their faces. 'We come all this way for this thing! We could be out doing a job and make some actual gold, not chasing a dragon cub I could fit in my shit pocket!'
The two of them glared at Michael in unison, as the silvet-haired young ranger sheepishly raised his hands, despite one of them still occupied with his shotgun. "I dunno, just heard rumours of a dragon and I thought it would be a right exciting adventure!"
"Well I like him!" Maxine interjected indignantly, the miniscule dragon and its prized penny held delicately in her paw.
'Of course you like him!' came the gruff voice of Marco Martinez, joining his sister in judgemental scorn. The canid Maxine whined, fluffy ears arched pathetically back. The inhuman rogue was inches away from invisibility before Michael laid a gloved hand on her shoulder to cool her nerves.
From the sideline, a wheezy laughing reverberated through the cave. Every head of the party turned to look at him. Milo, the team's ice wizard, was laughing to himself as he adjusted his glasses.
'Oh goodness, you are *so annoyed!* Totally worth it, just for that.'
Marion growled, more becoming of the canid of the party. Her brother tried to restrain her, to little avail.
'It's fine, its fine. Sorry, this whole thing is just *hil-arious!* I mean, Michael, where did you hear about this little guy from?'
"Well there were those guys back at the Rocking Stone Tavern, remember?"
'You mean the jackass 'rivals' who tried to kill us?'
"Y-yeah. I remember their mage babbling about a dragon over by this location after you smacked him silly." He gestured to Marco, a swift moment of pride washing over the brawler as he admired his oversized metallic fists. "Just... figures it would be pathetic."
Maxine was still occupied with the miniscule dragon, cooing as she poked its scaly snoot with a finger. "Can we keep her? I so want to keep her,she is just so cute!! Oh, can we name her? I'll name her Maddy!"
Marco gave her a pained glare as he rubbed his forehead, Milo's cackling audible just behind him. 'You- you know what? Fine. Sure. Keep the damn thing. I don't care.'
Meanwhile Marion was scratching her chin as she turned on a heel, pointing a finger toward Michael, who was presently fiddling with his armour plating.
'Hey, Michael, you didn't happen to hear this rumour from their mage with the dumb orange hat that looks like a traffic cone, did you?'
"Oh yeah, I did, what about it?"
Marion mouthed the word 'shit' as with perfect comedic timing, the aforementioned traffic cone-clad mage stepped out from behind a rock and with him, a crowd of necromanced forest critters.
"'Ah, the Maladies, I see you've fallen for my ingenious trap, *again.*'"
"Hey, come on, there was some gold-finding potential in that one, screw off!" Michael objected.
"'No matter, with my *army* you won't survive! Because it totally worked last time!'"
Marion groaned, as her brother smiled from ear to ear as his metallic hands coiled into multi-kilogram fists. Milo was still absolutely losing it over the whole situation.
"We won't let you touch Maddy, orange guy! Never!" Maxine spat, clutching the now very confused cub in her hands.
Michael nodded, racking his shotgun and thrusting it into the air triumphantly.
"FOR MADDY!" He shouted, followed by the rest of the gang with varying levels of seriousness, as the Maladies charged into battle again.
|
FremanBloodglaive
|
28th_Stab_Wound
|
2023-02-05 08:46:37
|
2023-02-05 04:51:58
| 167 | 37 |
j7afa0i
|
j79w0mb
|
10tx0ci
|
10tx0ci
|
[WP] As a genie you take great pride in deliberately misinterpreting every wish to make it as horrible as possible, but the wish you received today is the first wish that you not only have no idea how to make any worse, but you feel that even just fulfilling it as stated would be going too far.
|
"I wish for it to get worse."
"It?"
"I wish *everything* would get worse, for *everybody*. Me, you, my family, your family if you have one. Every single being, everywhere. On this Earth and others, throughout every molecule of existence, and across all timelines.
I wish for every win to be worthless and for every loss to be felt indefinitely.
I wish for everyone who attempts to make things better fails.
I wish for them to blame themselves for it all.
I wish those responsible for the suffering of others to suffer with them, by their hands even.
I wish that they never forgive each other.
And I wish they never stop searching for forgiveness.
I wish for my dad to never stop cheating on my mom.
I wish that he never stops gambling.
I wish that he never gains it all back.
I wish for him to tear himself apart from guilt forever.
I wish for her to never leave him.
I wish for her to never believe that she deserves better.
I wish for them to forever try to save what they know should just be put down.
And I wish for them to bring more children into their lives.
I wish they never stop going to church.
I wish they never stop letting Reverend Green back into our house.
I wish I had acid saliva.
I wish I had AIDS.
I wish it would mutate into something worse.
I wish for a cure to never be found.
I wish for them to catch him.
I wish for a long, drawn-out trial at taxpayer's expense.
I wish for him to drop the soap everyday in prison.
I wish for him to live.
I wish for him to come back to his job.
I wish for them all to welcome him back.
I wish for them to lie through gritted teeth that they forgive him.
I wish that they never stop wanting to kill him.
I wish that they never have the strength to do it and their self-pity and shame lives on forever.
I wish that they never stop blaming themselves.
And I wish that they never trust anyone again.
I wish for climate change to be irreversible.
I wish for the worst case scenario.
I wish everyone who tried to stop it knows that it's their fault for not trying enough.
I wish for the plots of those who benefited from it all to fail.
I wish their bunkers are raided and their hoards of wealth burned to ashes.
I wish their corpses were paraded in a final celebration of victory.
And I wish it tasted sour.
I wish for absolutely everything to get worse, and for everyone to know it.
I wish we could stop once and for all pretending that hope can get us through anything.
And I wish everyone had a god damn keloid scar on the center of their chest that never stops itching and cannot be removed."
"..."
"..."
"Holy fuck kid. Maybe you should just wish for a therapist."
|
"As you wish." I laughed.
The man in front of me he faded from existence. The fool wished to be famous across the world, so I turned him into a character in the most popular book at the time.
What a memory, how long has it been since then? I do not know, being trapped in this lamp. The only thing keeping me going is the thoughts of those cursed by foolish wishes.
That's when I feel it, someone is rubbing the lamp. Time to work, hopefully this next memory will keep me going for even longer.
Emerging from the lamp, I see my environment, a damp dark prison. The person who summoned me was none other then a despicable inmate, this one will be fun to mess with.
"I am the mighty genie of the lamp! State your wish!" I bellow.
"My wish is for me to die a horrifically painful death."
"All right, your wish is... Wait, you wish for what?"
"To die painfully, make it bad, I hear drowning is quite terrible, maybe something like that, but have it so it last for months instead of minutes or some uncurable cancer..."
"Hold on, why would you want that?" I interrupted.
"Because I deserve it." The prisoner states.
"There is no way, you truly believe that. Why not wish for freedom or something instead." I suggest.
Honestly this guy was making me uncomfortable and is taking the fun out of this. I'm cruel but, this just seems extreme.
"Freedom is exactly the problem. I'm getting pardoned. I deserve to be punished!"
"If you are being freed that means justice is...."
"Oh just stop, you're just like everyone else!" The prisoner grumbles before turning away.
"What do you mean master?" I question
"Everyone, even the victim's family, says the accident wasn't my fault. It is bullshit, I don't deserve mercy, why does no one get it."
"I don't know what you did, but a solution can be reached though that will satisfy everyone."
"Oh?" Questions the prisoner.
Writing on a piece of paper, I hand it to the prisoner. Looking at it, the inmate's eyebrow raised suspiciously.
"You really think this is the best wish to do instead."
"I do"
"Fine, I'll go along with it. I wish that I get exactly what I deserve as you decide and that everyone will be magically okay with the results."
"As you wish." I state
The magic swirls around us, soon I shall know what this man did, and give him exactly what he deserves.
|
Vlad-Djavula
|
brleise12
|
2025-01-24 01:30:59
|
2025-01-23 20:34:15
| 523 | 343 |
m8u27i9
|
m8se1fm
|
1i8cbeo
|
1i8cbeo
|
[WP] Whenever you flip a coin, it lands on its side, Rock-Paper-Scissors always ends in a draw, and when you enter the lottery you always win your money back but not a dime more. You're not lucky, you're not unlucky, you're... something else.
|
Doc called it "Zero Sum State". Said it was like a force of nature that overrode the laws of physics. Said it 'shouldn't be possible'. Everything returns to zero. No permanent gain, no permanent loss. Like how a car will eventually settle to a stop, that's an unchanging constant of the universe. I remain constant. Conservation of mass & energy? Don't apply. Probability? Broken. I can't even get a haircut because the next time I look in the mirror it's reverted back to how it was. Can't buy new clothes after the incident that caused all this. They always vanish in some absurd way. Unraveling on a loose nail or disappearing in the wash. Can't even keep more than $50 on my person, course I can't dip below it either. Finding exact change on the sidewalk is something else, man. But the worst part is that I can't ever sate this hunger or thirst. Can't scratch the itch I was feeling at the moment when it happened.
​
When the particle accelerator exploded I should have been dead. I can even feel death right now, the shrapnel in my chest. It's quantum locked in place, because if it wasn't I'd turn into a fine red mist as it tore me apart. The radiation that is frying my brain at all times is counteracted, dissolved by some alternate force that even Doc couldn't describe. I see that moment at all times frozen in my left eye, the side that was caught in the blast. At least my right eye is normal. When Doc was explaining all this I really couldn't believe it. Still don't really understand it. But I'm a simple guy, really. I wake up in the morning, put my socks on one at a time, and go to work. That's all anybody can do, right?
​
Well, they don't call me "The Equalizer" for nothing, I guess. Bullets, grenades, fire, water, don't matter. It's all reset to zero eventually. Can't say that for the guys who they sic me on, though. They stay dead. Lucky as they are. But it comes with perks, I guess. I can still enjoy the luxury food and apartments they send me to. Still get to fly first class even though my passport is expired. Job keeps me plenty entertained. One time they asked me to off this guy in Monaco. I got into his car and cut the brakes, hid in the trunk. The crash was a wild ride, I'll tell you.
​
But it's finally time to say goodbye. I'm here at the cite of the incident, looking down into the vortex it left behind. As we speak the guards are coming, but they won't get here before I'm gone. No chance of it, zero.
|
It's a Friday night, and I'm at the bar **trying to get lucky**. Unfortunately, I already know what will happen when I'm up to swing. I'm not going to strike out, but I'm not hitting a home run either. If the odds of success are fifty-fifty, I'm going to reach exactly second base. No more, no less.
I find a spot at the bar. "What can I get you," he asks.
"Surprise me, Johnny"
"Sure thing," he winks. He begins going through the bottles on the shelf one by one, dumping a sip of each into a glass. What is he doing? Then he hands it to me. "Here's your drink!"
I glance at the glass, realizing my mistake. "Actually, I'll have an Old Fashioned. I'll still pay for that, of course."
Johnny looks at the glass and turns red. "No, it's on the house. I mean, exactly half of it is on the house. I mean... I swear I don't know what's going on today!" Johnny is cute when he gets all flustered like that.
"So, Johnny, help a guy out. Who's single here that I could ask out?"
He motions to a guy by the pool table gripping a cue. “Last I heard, Kai over there just broke up with his boyfriend a few weeks ago.” He nods towards a muscular guy wearing a tank toward his right. “Anton’s pretty-chill too. He’s a regular.” Johnny laughs, and slips in, “I’m single too, of course.”
“You think I’ve got a shot?”
“With them? I’d say you’ve got a chance if you flex that manly charm you’ve got,” he teases.
“... and with you?”
He scratches his head and grins. “Well, if someone like you happened to ask out someone like me, I’d say the someone like me would be an idiot to not say yes. If that were to hypothetically happen, of course.” He’s turning red again, but hasn’t lost his air of confidence.
It feels like there’s an invisible rope that’s tugging me toward him. Our eyes lock, and it’s electricity. His chest comes closer, and he grabs my arm, outlining my biceps. It’s exhilarating. He’s overpowering my thumping heart.
“Would you—”
“Yes. 100% yes,” he says, drawing closer still.
If the odds of success are fifty-fifty, I’ll reach second base. But Johnny and I are a certainty, an inevitability.
|
CouldaBeen_TheBest
|
mudkippers14
|
2023-04-13 15:37:43
|
2023-04-13 14:33:14
| 85 | 56 |
jg3tt7r
|
jg3jwpo
|
12klmt6
|
12klmt6
|
[WP] After Earth was declared a galactic safe haven, anti-xenoterrestrial sentiment began to rise. You, a second generation immigrant from another planet, calmly walk down the street when a voice yells at you "Go back to Mars!" You snap back "I was born in Chicago!"
|
“You did fucking what?!” Glenvarr, the dark elf screamed from his containment chamber.
“Well, Glen, can I call you Glen?”
“My name is Glenvarr, The Dark Lord, Drow of Demise, The absolute end, enslaver of…”
“Yeah anyways Glen, it’s all simple really.”
Glenvarr seethed with rage. Curtis smiled. It’s what he’s been trained for.
“You came back three times before this, and everytime either enslaved half the world’s population, or almost ended it, after the third time, people start to take you seriously. So when you so kindly announced you’d be back in a thousand years after Curtham The Bold cut you down, he formed the order of the bright blade. We’ve been huntin’ monsters for a thousand years using technology as it progresses and finding new ways to gank you guys. You’re a vampire dark elf. Granted you’re one of the originals, so the same rules don’t apply to you, but..” he traced the scar over his right eye socket. “… I’ve fought a few of your kind before.”
“That still doesn’t explain all this!”
“Oh right, damn. Talking about that stuff made me forget. These are turrets. You ever somehow break outta that box and they’ll pump you full of silver and holy oil so you can’t move, then twelve of the best knights in the order will march through that door and kill you slow. The container itself is an impenetrable prison designed especially for you. I hope you enjoy eternity you bastard.”
“Wait… there’s something familiar about you. The scent in your blood… it’s the same as His… as Curtham’s.”
Curtis stood up and leaned up against the unbreakable window
“You’re damn right it is. He’s my ancestor, and I’m the first one in a thousand years immune to vampirism. That’s why I’m assigned to you. Your downfall is my blood right. You ever figure out a way past all this, I’ll end you myself, Fang.”
Glenvarr slumped into a chair they had provided for him. He had no idea how they got into the crypt or how they carried him to gods know where, and sealed him in a box made of some unbreakable alloy that burns like silver when he touches it, but he had to figure it out. Forever is a long time. He pulled a book off his shelf. At least he could learn and plot his escape.
As Curtis walked down the hall he heard an enraged scream and chuckled.
“Knight Captain! The vampire is frenzied!”
The scholar in the war room turned to Curtis.
“What did you do?”
Curtis laughed.
“Every book in that cell has one sentence in its pages.”
“What would that be?”
“Fuck you Fang.”
|
*Ahh, here we go again.*
"First, mister, I was born in Chicago. So Mars is as wrong as it gets. Second-"
I paused. *No way...*
An old man, wizened and wrinkly, leaning against his food cart like he would on a walking frame. Frail as he may appear, no one else could have spat that venom.
"You, get lost. Go back. GO BACK!" His arms flailed wildly, and I really wasn't sure if he was gesturing away or upwards.
Were I not holidaying in the Asian Federation, I would've thought this was just another day Stateside. But this *is* Asia...you'd think that after all those years of accepting cultures more diverse than that on the colony ship my parents arrived in, they'd truly be able to live out their creed: "Strength in diversity."
I guess in a nation this large, you'll find your oddballs...
When Xanari are upset, we shudder, a silent cry that humans often mistake for being cold. I've only known a few humans who can tell the subtle difference, that there's actually a rhythm and cadence to it. This time, it was different. I collapsed to the ground; I felt *everything*. The unfairness, the rottenness of rejection, the sense of betrayal in the place I called *home*...I let out what humans call a howl, something Xanari only do when they are in pain. It was just too much...
Through the howling, I missed a commotion. The elder was having a sharp verbal exchange with someone. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and a soothing voice in an unfamiliar accent.
"Hey, don't be upset. He's just a mean old man stuck in the past. Our future is changing...don't be upset, 'kay?"
I looked up. A human, an angelic face in the equatorial sun. A Reedian walked up, and offered a paw to help me up. Another human came up and offered me a drink. A Qwellian explained to me that she gave the old man a piece of her mind.
*Strength in diversity.* For a moment, those words actually meant something. "You're American, right? You should check out the Temple Street, you're gonna get really nice selfies there!"
I smiled. There will be the oddballs...and there will always be the ones who care.
|
TarnishedFella_24
|
bdq-ccc
|
2024-10-29 06:42:49
|
2023-06-01 06:35:13
| 198 | 46 |
lub7u2n
|
jmg1tc5
|
1gejm6t
|
13x018u
|
[WP] You've been abandoned on the battlefield, the enemy closing in. Forsaken by heaven and countrymen, you retreat to the deepest corner of your mind. If your gods won't help, perhaps the inner dark will. You cry out to the void. It answers.
|
Nothing from my Marine training had prepared me for this kind of war. We could take any threat made by man, but the strange creatures of energy that had invaded our world seemed unstoppable.
Just like every other engagement, they had rolled over our troops, burning men and women with searing light, annihilating dozens with each blast. Our guns had no effect and now morale was non-existent.
The ranks had broken and my allies had left me behind, burned and too weak to try to retreat. I could hear the strange, high-pitched hum of the humanoid creatures of golden light as they swept through the bodies to finish off any still clinging to life. In moments, my life would be over.
And then what? I wondered. I didn't know if I believed in Heaven. When these things had first descended upon us, people had called them angels. But they had not communicated in any way and they were slaughtering us by the thousands. If they were angels, was Heaven truly my destination? Would I even want to be there?
I closed my eyes, tears rolling down my cheek. God had betrayed us. And if light was the enemy, then perhaps darkness would be my ally.
"Yes," whispered a voice in my mind.
Behind my eyelids was nothing but utter blackness. I stared into that void deep within.
"H-Help... Me..." I barely managed to breathe the words. It was enough.
My entire form began to vibrate at a low frequency, putting out a sonorous, bass hum. My eyes snapped open as life and vigor returned to me. One of the 'angels' was staring at me, hesitating for a moment
Energy flooding through me, I rose to my feet, my useless rifle forgotten. I could see tendrils of inky blackness emerging from my body as the darkness spread around my form.
The enemy screeched unnervingly and produced glowing, golden sword of light. I felt no fear, only a cold certainty from the void which steeled my nerves.
My enemy shot toward me, slashing with its weapon and I dodged to the side more nimbly than I could've anticipated. The tendrils of darkness lashed out in response, slashing through the sword and causing it to dissipate.
My body was now fully covered in that cool, protective darkness and I knew I could harm this being of light. I leapt toward it, striking it with blow after blow that caused it to dim and flicker as the darkness overcame the light.
In moments, the dwindling creature of light was snared in my tenebrous tentacles. It seemed to be trying to communicate, perhaps to ask for mercy. It would receive none. In a sudden jerk from several angles, I tore the creature into pieces that faded quickly out of existence.
There came shrieks of rage from the energy beings that remained. I could see that they meant to overwhelm me. Yet, I knew my ally would not desert me. The darkness, my own inner void whispered, and I raised my arms.
All around the battlefield, fallen soldiers, dead and wounded both, began to rise. The void gave me my army and I felt a sudden visceral satisfaction as the 'angels' withdrew.
This was only the beginning. With this power, we would annihilate the enemy and get to the truth of the matter.
And if it turned out these things were angels, sent by God, I vowed not to stop until that son of a bitch was dead too.
|
The enemy rolled forward like a force of nature. Swords and spears and screaming. Men died. Men screamed. Men wept. But still the enemy rolled forward.
I fought. I slashed and stabbed. I parried. I worked through the sword forms like a machine. None who met me on the field passed me.
Hour after hour I fought. Fatigue was burning through me. My muscles burned for respite that never came.
I prayed to all of the God of the Parthenon. I prayed for a merciful death. I prayed for strength to continue on. I prayed that my wife knew I loved her. I could not feel any of the Gods as I slayed the enemy. None came to me.
I stood alone in the field of battle - the enemy weary of my twin blades. Each death given shape. They huddled but five feet out of my reach, waiting for me to falter. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. I am death given form. If the Gods won’t help me then to hell with them - bring me the devils!
I reached deep with in myself. I stopped praying and I offered up my soul! Bring me victory or bring me death!
The void spoke to me. The darkness within my very soul rang out - “what do you offer” it said.
“Take what you will. My mind is mine - the rest is yours!”
I darkness curled out of me - thick and Smokey. My muscles became tight and big. Another set of arms grew from my shoulders. My hair fell out and eyes opened in the back of my head. I could feel my teeth grow and sharpen.
“Go -child of darkness. Go claim victory or die gloriously!” I heard in the back of my mind.
I picked up not one but three swords - one for each hand. I chewed through the masses before me. Any unlucky enough to make it past my blades found my teeth.
I ate as I decimated the troops before me. Their blood ran like rivers down my face and body as I mowed through them. They could not come fast enough so I leapt and landed fifty feet into an angry throng. Ah, the death! I delighted as they rushed towards me. I ate. I killed. I was one with the symphony of death.
The sun rose. The sun set. I fought still. I felt weaker with the sun up. I felt strong with the sun down. Time means nothing to me. I fought. I ate. I fought some more.
As the sun set on the fourth day they stopped coming. I stood ready. Four arms. Four swords. Come at me if you dare.
The army of the damed broke before me. A three stripe general stood before me.
“What do you want?” He asked?
“Only death shall stop me!”
Wave after wave rolled upon my swords. The darkness whispered sweet nothings to me. I fought on.
The sun set as the last fell upon my swords.
The darkness within my soul cheered! I couldn’t help be be relieved I was alive.
I looked upon my body - mutated beyond belief. What was the price of victory?
————-
Sorry. I am really drunk. I have no idea if the above even makes sense. Via Cancun! This story was brought to you by the power of rum.
|
SunderedDream42
|
escher4096
|
2023-03-08 01:09:51
|
2023-03-07 20:43:17
| 364 | 137 |
jbcg0ll
|
jbbd6d0
|
11l9yyr
|
11l9yyr
|
[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.
|
A king stood at his balcony, looking towards the horizon as a small blue dot slowly grew. Within moments, the blue dot showed itself to be a person, specifically a lady with blue hair flying towards the king. She safely landed on the balcony, surprisingly, crossing her legs with a smug smile as she asked:
“Guess what happened?”
“…You killed the demon king?”
“You bet!” She announced proudly. “Little ol’ me! The girl that everyone said she couldn’t! But guess what! I may not be the prophesied hero ya’ll spat on about, but I did it! I killed the god damn mother fucking demon king!”
“Your officially removed from your position as 3rd Commander and herby banished.”
“Wh-wh-what?” She sputtered, watching the king walk into his study. She followed him inside, thoughts spinning. “But I just killed the demon king! And I’m not given a single thanks?!”
“Why the fuck would I thank you?” The king said as he grabbed a glass of booze.
“I did what your entire army couldn’t! I killed a tyrant that’s terrorized your people! Why the hell wouldn’t you tha- are you drinking?”
“Yes.” The king said as he jugged the alcohol.
“Y-you never drink.”
“Gee I wonder why! Maybe it’s because I never had to handle war fare until now!”
“Excuse me?”
“The guy wasn’t even a tyrant! He was in a war with a nation trying to steal their magic resources! All of that shit about him being bad was some bullshit the enemy nation was spouting as an excuse to gain support! Weren’t you apart of the meeting when we talked about this?”
“…I was training.”
“I heard you went to the pub.”
“I-I did after training. Which is where I… heard about the king being a tyrant… oh shit.”
“Oh shit is right. And because of that, your no longer associated with this kingdom. I’m removing your powers as well as punishment.” The king held up a blue crystal.
“W-wait! Your making a mistake here!”
“I made a mistake letting my cousin wield so much power. Now I’m gonna fix it.” He then tightly squeezed the rock, causing the blue energy to fly out from his cousin, changing her hair back to its original blonde. “I wanna see you gone by noon. Otherwise you’ll be executed.”
“Seriously?! After all we’ve been through?!”
“Yeah. I don’t think I wanna deal with you anymore. Especially when you keep whining about not receiving first commander and some prophecy bullshit you use as a counter.”
“Because it’s true!”
“Because your dumb.”
“Whatever! Your kingdom is ass anyways!”
“Because we don’t hold idiots to a high standard?”
“Yea- no!”
She then stormed off. Leaving the king alone, letting him sit down the glowing blue stone and sift through a book of relatives. “I have a lot of work to do.” He sighed, seeing that he has lots of work ahead.
|
(Just a friendly reminder I'm not a native English speaker)
After I defeated him... Lucas... I returned. Knowing my fate would be horrible. I had two good reasons to know this; the king would not like it. He was the prophesized hero, wich also was the reason of his power, his reason of being king. But he would never have done it. He would never have killed his own brother. And as his adviser and best friend, I knew he wouldn't. He even told me he couldn't. So I took his place, and it worked out. Now my punishment would be waiting.
After the long trip home, still wounded, with a broken arm and a horrible cut in my leg. I returned to the kingdom. Not fully sure if it would be my last time entering. I went directly to the castle. Knowing I had to tell him. He was my friend, he had the right to know. The guards told me he was in his bedroom. After some surprised looks from staff I reached his door. I knocked, and I entered.
It was cold in his room. The fireplace was dusty. He sat in a chair while reading. For a second he looked up at me. Then he returned to his book. 'Thomas I...'
'Let me finish my chapter' his words were cold, colder than the room, like ice stinging right through me.
After a few minutes of silence, he closed the book. The loud slam of the book hitting the floor filled the room. 'Where have you been.' He knew where I was, he just wished he didn't, he hoped I would just tell him I had been on a little vacation, with the wife and the kids. But he knew better.
I pulled a ring with a green emerald out my pocket and tossed it to him. His eyes filled with tears but his expression did not change. 'Why' he wisperd. 'You know why.' I made my voice sound as ferm as I could. Ignoring my nerves. One tear rolled over Thomas his cheek, then his expression changed to rage. 'YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO DO THIS.' I tried to keep my calm. 'I know, you were.' Guard entered the room. 'I want this man out of my sight, I don't care where you drop him. As long as he is not in my kingdom anymore.' They grabbed me under my shoulders. 'THOMAS NO, YOU KNOW I DID THE RIGHT THING!' I screamed, but he just sat down in his chair, picked up the book, and started reading again, now with tears rolling down his face.
(I would love some feedback, I normally don't write in English
|
Pope-Francisco
|
Shroom_cosplays
|
2023-12-30 23:14:46
|
2023-12-30 22:39:37
| 36 | 22 |
kfmdd8v
|
kfm7wjt
|
18uju5p
|
18uju5p
|
[WP]Your sibling, your parents' least favorite child, died prematurely. They hardly noticed. They certainly didn't shed a tear. Now, during the funeral, they forgot your siblings name - again. It's your turn to 'say a few words', so you do.
|
I thought about keeping the peace. I really did. Rick would have. He was, let's face it, a whole lot smarter than me. But i did try. For four, maybe five whole seconds.
Then i saw the look on that bastard's face. He was absolutely revelling in all the attention he was getting as 'the grieving father. ' He was trying to look like he was 'bravely hanging on', but i could see the flash of satisfaction when he hugged women just a bit too long, and the avarice dancing in his eyes when people offered 'anything they could do.'
So I walked up to the podium.
"His name was Rick, Dad. Not Elizabeth or Lizzie. Rick. He hasn't been Lizzie since highschool, you judgemental a$$hole."
"Most of you never met Rick. You're mostly business associates our father is hoping to manipulate. You should know that once Rick stopped toeing the party line our parents had no use for him. And trust me, if you out live your usefulness he will abandon you just as quickly. "
"Rick was my hero. He was brave. He was funny. He was kind. And wow was he smart!!"
"Smart enough to have dozens of different patents, coincidentally in your field Dad. Don't ask me what they are, I'm not that intelligent. But i know that what they do is earn a lot of money. I mean.. a LOT of money."
" And Rick was smart enough to use some of that money to start a company. I think you all know it. It's call Rick Morgan Enterprises. Its the one that just bought your company Dad."
I let that hang in the air for a minute. Just long enough for our sperm donors greed to fight through his embarrassment and rage. I swear i saw the moment he thought he might inherit the company he'd worked for for the last ten years. I gave him just long enough to envision himself enthroned in the top office making everyone grovel
" And before he ever got on that motorcycle, Rick eas smart enough to have a very VERY specific, iron-clad will. "
|
What can be said about Terry other than he will be missed?
Tyler was not the best sister in the world but she was always there, in the background.
Taylor wouldn't make a scene or stand out, you would often forget they were there.
Based on the turn out Baylor didn't have many friends or loved ones, I had to remind our parents that her funeral was today.
They still didn't want to come, there was an episode of Friends that they kinda liked was going to rerun but I didn't want to be the only Family member here to remember Blair.
He was not the best son, never did much for the family, would constantly take over the TV so he could watch his shows new episodes every month, even making me share my Netflix profile by adding "and Ferris" after my name. Always a pain to explain to my friends. Actually let me just correct then real quick.
...
Where was I? Oh right Francis is dead and they never did much for me, barely paying for my video games, only driving me around a few times a week. She would always prioritize herself so she could "Go to dialysis"
Their selfishness aside I let them go if they lent me their car and I let them off at the bus stop. Felix would complain "but the bus won't come for an hour and the clinic is only a ten minute drive. Their constant "me me me" was tiring, if they wanted to get their sooner their wheelchair was right there and the hill wasn't that steep.
Her negative qualities aside, she was still a part of my life. This one is for you, I hope your selfishness wasn't so bad that you end up in hell, Limbo is an adequate place for you. Good luck Frank, you are gonna need it.
|
Eloni16
|
None
|
2024-05-24 06:54:58
|
2024-05-24 06:17:49
| 293 | 26 |
l5fs5p0
| null |
1czb218
|
1czb218
|
[WP] For purposes of crime prevention, the police puts random people into hyper-realistic simulations where they have the motive and opportunity to commit a crime. Based on their choice, they are let go with their memories erased, or punished as if they commited the crime in reality.
|
Oh, hello. Guess we're here together for a bit, huh? Before they do... whatever simulation garbage they are going to try. They say it's for rehabilitation, but I don't think either of us believe that. Nice they're giving us a few minutes by ourselves before then.
It's funny, to be back here again. I mean, I have been before. Way back when, I was randomly chosen to... well, you know already, don't you? The simulation stuff the police does. All that great stuff. Did you know it's possible for you to be wrongly convicted off of that? Yeah, I know, crazy. Personally I think someone just wanted to get rid of me, so people got bribed, but I don't know for sure. Doesn't matter though, not anymore.
I got put in prison. How long was it... 5, 6 years? I think so. Did you know that most people in there aren't bad either? I mean, don't get me wrong, there were some bad people. But nobody that I thought was... unforgivable. People make mistakes sometimes.
You know, they set up the simulations to succeed, I think. I bet they get paid more for "every future criminals they stop." If you give someone the motive and opportunity... most would, you know? I didn't. I hold myself too highly for that. Which, coincidentally, is why I think someone got paid off. I did the right thing, so either I was set up, or there was a different metric being measured.
Lots of the people there had worse simulations than I did. You know how it works, right? Give you motive and opportunity to commit a crime, see what happens. But... they fail to account for the grey in the black and white. Sure, people may steal if they haven't eaten in two days and need to feed themselves and a child, but I don't really think of that as wrong. You know? Legally wrong, yes, but morally? Ethically?
...It's shocking how many people I saw there that had messed up simulations like that. Like, they outweighed the legitimate criminals several times over. I'm not exaggerating when I say there was some 9:1 ratio for good people versus people who were actually dangerous. I asked.
So... I kinda realized something. These simulations. Maybe they were good once, but that was a long time ago. There's nothing good about them anymore. So... here. You see this? You recognize it? It's a little thing I had made. Little bit of an EMP, little bit of a computer virus.
I'm heading into that simulation... and I'm ending it. Once and for all. The police are actually going to have to look someone in the eye, come to terms with how that's a real person, before they get arrested. No more "you looked funny" garbage, no more "random" choices. Sure, I may end up dying, or being thrown back in prison forever this time.
Shame that I'm beyond caring, now. I'm doing it for people like you, you know, people who don't deserve all this scrutiny. So hey... live a good life for me, okay? Let them know who you spent the night before the blackout.
Live for everyone who wasn't able to because of these simulations, okay?
|
He walked into the convenience store, only to find it empty. No one could be seen over the shelfs of chips, and no sound could be heard from the back room. No music even from the radio that sat in front of the cigarette case.
Hello, he asked?
A chime blipped as the front door swung open and a man stepped into the store.
Hello, the man replied. He looked around for a moment and then walked behind the register.
Do you have a payphone?
Yes, there is one outback. There should even be a small cup with a few quarters there as well if you're lucky. We get a lot stragglers that comeby. I figure a little help will set them in a good way.
Thank you, sir. That's awfuly kind of you. The Patron walked out the chiming door and around the side of the store. There was the payphone as promised, but the cup was missing. He returned through the chiming door. The man was counting bills from the register.
Your cup is missing, said The Patron.
Is that so? Have you seen anyone else around here by chance?
Nope, no one else.
Oh. Well that's alright then. Here, take as much as you want. The man handed the Patron a handful of quarters.
Well I do appreciate it sir.
The man smiled. Forget it even happened. He returned to counting his money.
Another chime and the Patron made his phone call. It should have been brief, but with all the extra change, he could take his time. He talked and talked and smiled. Listened for longer than he felt comfortable, smiled, and said goodbyes.
He returned to the front of the store. An officer greeted him. Good morning.
Hello, officer.
Did you happen to see anyone here by chance?
Well yes, the clerk. He let me use his phone.
Where has he gone?
Gone? Well... I don't know. I figure he is still in the store.
He isn't.
Huh, he wasn't there when I came inside. Must have left again.
He wasn't here while you were?
No.
I see.
But he did show up.
Is that so?
Gave me some money for the phone.
And how much was that.
A few quarters.
And how about the rest?
The rest of what?
The money.
I don't follow.
Well, it's gone.
Gone? He was counting it when I seen him.
But, you haven't seen him.
Pardon?
The clerk has been missing.
I understand now, but I just seen him.
No, not now. Not today.
I don't know what you mean.
Where is the money?
I still have a few quarters right-
No, the rest of it.
Sir, I am trying to follow-
The store has been robbed.
Robbed?
You were in the store alone and you have the store's money and by your own admittion.
It was given to me.
Come with me, sir.
|
ArbitraryChaos13
|
Lushy88
|
2023-02-20 01:27:37
|
2023-02-19 18:23:15
| 60 | 43 |
j98geu8
|
j96tqmd
|
116j5z3
|
116j5z3
|
[WP] I need to address this
|
"The enemy stands at our gate." Henry bellowed to the crowd of soldiers.
Their angry yells fuelling his blood for the fight yet to come.
"Will we let them win?" He yelled.
"No!" Came the answer.
"Will we let them win?"
"No!"
"Will we let them win?"
"NO!"
Now was the time to motivate his men, his countrymen to lay their lives for what they believed in.
"We will win. And when we win, we will build our city. Yes, the food resources will almost be depleted. Yes, our farmlands will be razed to the ground. Yes, the disease may follow the dead and make more of our people sick. Yes, our coffers will almost be empty. Yes, our bodies may never recover from the battle. Yes, we will lose people we love."
"Uh, My Lord, I don't think-" His advisor, George, hissed in his ears but his blood pumped for the fight to come.
"We may lose our children, some may even be taken as hostages. Some soldiers may be captured to be taken as prisoners of war. Our women may be-"
"My Lord-" George loudly cleared his throat.
Henry looked down and then realised that the men were silent. He could even hear the cricket chirping in the field nearby. Well, hell
"But they will never break our spirit," He said to the men and the few crickets that were chirping now. "Our backs, maybe."
"What Lord Henry means is that when we win none of this would happen!" George said, trying to rouse the frightened crowd.
"No, no, it may still happen." Henry said shaking his head gloomily.
"What our Lord means is that we should never give up!" George said a little bit desperately.
"We don't really have any other options." Henry mumbled.
"Oh, for fucks sake!" George facepalmed.
*
[You can find more of my stories at r/iknowthisischeesy]
|
Nordmen! Tings' may be bleak, but do not despair! Te' elves of te' south ave' come t' our lands wit' supremacy in technology. *Fire sticks* t' call upon tem', lightin' t' bludgeon and gore on command. Steel plates and golden swords tat' cut through armor n' flesh like knife t' butta'! Iron boats'! Lightin' boats! Te' pound te’ walls f' our fortress!
Allied among tem' are te' Celts, Romans, te' Christians, even te’ dark men of Nubia and Egypt, even te' red skin na-ives f' Vinland! And te' Huns…
Uh…
…
Te' elves also… tey' also ave'… *prison camps*. Apparently, half-elves are physically superior t' both f’ us… smar'er too… built like orcs and…
*cough*
Tey' are not f' our women. Tank'fully. Te' Nubians and Celts ave' ad'... relations… wit' te' elves after… after te' battle f' Phelgard. A mere… raiding squad decimated our decorated… honored guard… f' 10,000….
… did I mention half elves reach teir' physical peak in 3 years?
…
But please! Please! Do not despair! We outnumber tem' 26-to-1! Tey' are low on numbers, t' te' point tey' must deploy teir' own women t' combat! Ay, I remember our first encounter wit' a she-elf. She…
… Mi fadur, he laid his axe upon her skull… it… shatt'red… and she… took mi arm off…
…
Nordmen…
“Hersir!”
What say you? Boy?
“We are fucked, Hersir!”
“You wish tey' did tat' 'stead f' killin’ us clean!”
…
Ay. We do be… “Fucked”
|
iknowthisischeesy
|
None
|
2023-08-11 17:07:07
|
2023-08-11 16:49:45
| 68 | 24 |
jvr78xj
| null |
15oc3mv
|
w88134
|
[WP] As Satan you sometimes receive Christmas lists from children, and normally you just forward them. However the letter you just got had only one request, a parent. You decide to make their wish come true.
|
Christmas is a time for soul-searching.
I, of course, have more than I can count.
To sacrifice one’s soul is to give all that one can give. For what? In the sale, one relinquishes all that constitutes the self in return for that which the self craved. The deal can never bring joy, can never bring merriment (except to me, perhaps).
So how is it that the Faustian has turned festive this Christmas season?
I hear the cries of desperate, yearning souls. I hear their lust for power. I hear their gnashing jealousy. I hear their hopelessness and woe. My ears perk up when one invokes my name.
Dear Satan. Dear, indeed. Dearer to you now than you well know.
But, here, a request unspoiled by rotting greed. A request as pure as the driven snow. A request made in crayon.
I’ve known the draught of isolation. I’ve known the lonesome, hollow fear. I’ve been cast out, rejected, forgotten. Why does He continue to wreak this cruelty on souls so young and pure?
Here, in the bleak, frozen season. Here when they forget their fear of fire. Here, where they gather round my warmth, I shall make right what He cannot.
A parent gives up all that they can give for the good of their child. In the rearing, the raising, they let go of all that the self had craved. For the good of the child, they relinquish their soul.
I know so many ready to provide.
|
"No, Satan, I'm not putting Hitler inside of a box with a bow on it. He's evil. I'm Santa, not a nazi." Santa boomed, his voice filling his grotto.
"Why ever not, 'Sssanta', after all, aren't you the man sssupposed to make all their dreamsss come true?" He hissed.
"Ho, ho, ho! There are limits. Even 400.. what are they again, oh! iPads, even 400 iPads are too much. And why not just bring back their actual parents?" He asked, horrified at Satan's sheer gall.
"Well, too late now, I sssuppose." Satan replied, turning his back to Santa.
"Wait, no! You can't have!" The jolly man shouted, his wide stomach bouncing in horror.
"Oh, I can, and I have. Enjoy!" Satan said, and disappeared in a haze of blackened smoke.
Santa fell to his knees, shocked at Satan's behaviour. Not only had be brought back Hitler, he'd also gifted a human child presents! That was his thing! It just wouldn't do.
ElfWithAGun was trending by the next day, and Santa could only smile at his elf's quick work.
|
DistillCollection
|
None
|
2023-12-09 22:41:08
|
2023-12-09 21:41:15
| 57 | 16 |
kcp0bsu
|
kcor27p
|
18ek0x2
|
18ek0x2
|
[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).
|
"Answer the question, ma'am. Where are you from, exactly?" the biologist inquired of the woman, who laid prone on the table. A crowd of physicians and interns jostling for space surrounded them, murmuring not so quietly about this odd confrontation.
"London, my dear. Do you suffer from a defect of hearing?" she said in a meek voice.
"And you claim to be 24 years old?"
The woman lay silent, her wide eyes blinking as the crowd waited for an answer.
"Ma'am, I'm only to ask this one more time. Are you sure you didn't suffer some kind of mistreatment?"
"I cannot say with certainty what is your intention," she said, tears forming in her eyes.
"Did someone strap you to a chair? Confine you in some way? Your back..."
"Not in the least," she said. "My mother and sisters were always kind to me."
The biologist looked exasperated, his lips full of words he was unwilling to speak.
"This is quite strange," she said. "It seems as if I'm asleep. You are physician William?" She pinched herself, then shook her head. "What is this light? It's brighter than the sun!"
The biologist shook his head, then looked at the X-Ray again. "What the fuck! We need to call a physicist! This... this... woman's back and mutterings seem to indicate that she's, she's...."
"What on earth are you saying, John?" one of the other physicians said.
"Look at the X-Ray," the biologist said. "Look at her body. She's either been starved and confined or she's, she's... not from this time."
"Starved?!" she said in as loud as a voice as she could possibly muster. "Heavens, no! I am a lady!"
The group of doctors looked perplexed in unison.
"What year is it?" one of them asked her.
"You know, I cannot seem to recall," she said. "I am disoriented."
"Where's her intake form?" someone asked.
"We cannot seem to locate it," the biologist said. "Either a paper form or a computer record. It's as if this lady never existed."
"That's a breach of protocol," a couple of doctors murmured.
"Nobody remembers seeing her in the waiting room either, and when she walked in she was without clothes," the doctor who called the biologist said
"Wait, what?" the crowd said in unison. "She walked in without clothes? How is that? No way!"
|
theunseenofficial
|
armageddon_20xx
|
2024-12-24 20:07:27
|
2024-12-24 18:25:45
| 39 | 27 |
m3n3pg3
|
m3mmffb
|
1hlf0gj
|
1hlf0gj
|
[WP] Write something using only dialogue. Don't even say who is saying what, make the reader figure that out.
|
I was met with a unified disgust at first. Oh well. At least these guys could agree on something.
“Who the hell is this?” Pride asked, a hint of disgust in her otherwise smooth tone.
Before I could even get a word in, I recognized the grating voice of Wrath.
“Somebody who’s about to get their ass kicked.”
Greed smirked, jewelry jingling on his neck. “For once, I agree with you. Get this guy out of here.”
I subtly rolled my eyes, stepping up to the long table they were all seated at. It was long, decorated with candles, and the seats all fit the sin that occupied them. Satan sat at the head of the table, his eyes watching with a curious gleam. All the sins were watching me with repulse, except for Sloth, who was asleep facedown on the table.
“What are you even trying to be?” Gluttony asked as they gorged upon a chicken leg.
I didn’t bother to answer for a moment. I just gave a slow, uncaring blink.
“Lost your voice?” Wrath taunted.
“…Nah,” I answered slowly.
Envy glared at me with jealousy. Meanwhile, Pride was staring with a perplexed look as she applied more fiery red lipstick.
“So, like, are you just going to stand there?”
At her words, I sat down in the seat at the end of the table. The blank throne changed to a gray, much like Sloth’s, although colder. More mundane. Wrath narrowed his eyes.
“What the hell are you?”
I eyed him coldly for a moment. Then I shrugged. Satan grinned, as if he’d figured it out already. Pride seemed to be getting as pissed as Wrath?
“Well?! Don’t just sit there!”
Finally, Sloth lifted her head. She groggily stared at me, then glanced around at the other sins.
“…He’s Indifference…” she mumbled lazily, then laid her head back down.
I leaned back in my seat, staring coldly at the others. Indifference, while not considered to be a sin, was one of the most dangerous things to lurk in humanity. I would fit right in here.
|
"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
|
ShadowEeveeCringe
|
aronmano
|
2023-11-18 03:16:30
|
2023-11-18 02:41:02
| 244 | 19 |
k9q1kfk
|
k9pxcb0
|
17xtcoa
|
17xtcoa
|
[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.”
|
The doorbell rang out through Jenny's house as though heralding the arrival of the hosts of angels.
I stand up from the couch. My lungs haven't needed to breathe in 60 years, but I still sigh in relief just from the muscle memory. "I'll get it." Maybe she'll reconsider now.
I open the door for the UberEats driver delivering a hamburger meal with onion rings. I hand the man a tip and return to Jenny with the meal in hand.
"Did you order dinner?" Jenny asks.
"Yeah, my treat." I take a breath that wouldn't normally be necessary, then dig through the bag and hand her the pack of onion rings, breathing out as gently as possible so I can make the airflow last as long as possible.
As she starts chowing down, I ask "I don't suppose you've read *I am Legend*?"
"Nope," she answers, "just seen the movie."
Fair enough. That's not normally a good answer, but Charlton Heston always merits an exception. "Then you've probably never heard of allyl sulphide or allyl isothicyanate?"
"No, what are those?"
"Those are the sulfur compounds that make garlic and onions so toxic to vampires."
She stops chewing and looks at the half-eaten onion ring in her hand, then looks me as dead in the eye as if she was already a vampire and I was still a human. "You asshole."
|
CalmInvestment
|
Simpson17866
|
2023-08-22 17:14:55
|
2023-08-22 16:44:31
| 56 | 35 |
jxaokjl
|
jxajltj
|
15y435t
|
15y435t
|
[WP] The protagonist picks up a cursed sword, which simply convinces them to pick up an expensive and time-consuming hobby. This hobby drains their time, energy, and wealth more efficiently than any cursed item.
|
The demon sighed. He was being recalled. He'd done his job, and now it was time to move on. He looked around his office; trophies from his conquests were everywhere. He looked down at the papers on his desk; millions of afflicted, hundreds of millions of hours consumed in idleness. His achievements were being bandied about as the most bloodless, invisible scourge on mankind in years.
He stood. "Well, guess I should get going," he said, brushing the imaginary lint off of his Armani suit. He reached over, picked up his name plate from his mahogany desk, and smiled at the words on it.
"Blizzard SVP, Chief Marketing Officer, free starter subscription game card division"
He glanced at the box in the corner, filled with hundreds of one-time-use subscriptions to various Blizzard products. All glowed with a sullen red hunger, waiting for their next users. Once, they would have been cursed swords or other artifacts. But now, they were simply banal pieces of plastic.
He loved this world.
|
Master Bob been up in the store. He picked up the sword an he been like this is nice. Then all suddenly the sword been like you be needing a wife.
Master Bob been like I ain’t no swords could be talking an things like that but the sword made sass talk an said yes I can be speaking.
Then master Bob been like I is the best. Athen he been like I is the king of sleazy stuff an things like that. So Bob done fount hisself a wife.
Then he buyed her some titties an some shoes an some dresses an a mercedes bent an he be spending his money up. An he got her hair an her nails did too. Then they made a baby.
The End.
|
LateralThinker13
|
MyNameBeSerdryfusToo
|
2023-05-22 16:02:01
|
2023-05-22 11:44:34
| 72 | 16 |
jl65qns
|
jl57qum
|
13on8ol
|
13on8ol
|
[WP] After the villain defeated you, your friends abandoned you, leaving you for dead. To your surprise you awoke in a bed, with your wounds tended to and the villain sitting at your bedside.
|
"And here I thought I was the bad girl. Even I don't leave my people behind" she said with a smirk.
I groan. As if the pain wasn't bad enough, now I'm stuck with her arrogance. Excuse me, "her excellence" is what she prefers.
"They reported you dead, you know. Going to be hard to come back from that."
I didn't have the mental power to think about that. Everything hurt, even my toes. "Fuck you" I coughed.
She gently caressed down my jawline with her fingernails, "Oh dear I hardly think you're in the condition for that".
Her touch was kind. I don't know why it caught me off guard. I have no idea what she could be wanting, or why she let me live, but I couldn't do anything about anything yet.
She stood to leave, then looked at me with genuine kindness in her eyes, "you know, everyone has a villain in their own story, and just because you think your villain is bad, doesn't make them bad. And just because you think you're the good guy, that doesn't make you the good guy". She walked out the door, telling her servant something as she left.
She was right. But why say it? This whole adventure I had felt like there was something I was missing, but what? Too weak to think about it now. I needed to sleep more.
I awake with a start, the morning sun on my face, warming it. For being such a villain, she did have amazing taste. And this bed is the most comfortable thing I've ever slept in. My body still aches, my head still throbs, but I feel significantly better.
I open my eyes and she's there again; not three feet away, sun gleaming through her silky brown hair, eyes closed, chest gently rising and falling with each breath. Her full lips pressed together. Why are these thoughts in my head. It has to be the fog from all the exhaustion and pain.
She wakes with a start, looking to me. "I see you're awake now. You should be feeling better after sleeping for two full nights".
Two nights?? Gods I didn't realize--
"Your friends that left you have started quite the ruckus since leaving here", she said flatly.
"What do you mean"? Well at least I could speak now.
"Your oh-so-magnificent sword is actually a key, and they've found the lock. Seems they knew all along. I had hoped otherwise". A look of concern crossing her face as she called her servant in.
"Have a look at what they're up to" she says as she helps me look into the large bowl in the servants hands.
Fire. Screaming. Corpses. Large black writhing tentacles masses in the sky. "What the hell is all this" I stammer. This was beyond comprehension. This can't be real.
"They've unleashed an Eldritch god, which is what I was trying to stop. I'm not the villain of this story, you and your friends were, but you were oblivious to their machinations". Now it all makes sense. The whispering, the secretive meetings, the shared skin markings. I've been betrayed, and I could feel the anger growing inside me.
"Use that anger. Let me help you, I can make you more than you were. Pledge yourself to me, and we can take this world back and make them pay." She looked at me softly, offering her hand to me. I took it, and a warm flushing feeling came over my body.
I was back on my feet, only a little pain. It's been five days since the Eldritch gods have appeared. Once took Her hand, my healing went quickly, and I was fitted with new armor, and a new weapon that drew on my desire for revenge. It was like nothing I had heard of. It was light, but dense, and had the power to sever any gods connection to their powers, or their disciples from them.
I looked over at my new queen as we left her lair; the flaming skies and blood soaked lands ahead of us, towers darkening the landscape. Those were the targets. Those were the rewards for the traitors and now high priests. They will reap what they have sown, and we will make sure of that.
|
It took only a moment, a piercing of the heart. My vision blurred, my brain, my body, I didn't feel a thing when it all went black. All I could see, was the world I came from, everyone I was fighting to return to. They'd never know I died here...or that I tried to get back.
The next thing I knew I awakened in a bed, alive, and in an intense pain. With all the strength I could muster I started to rise, when a hand pushed me back down. My vision followed it up to see the man who pierced my heart.
"Huh? Wha? You..."
"Hush. You are too wounded to even consider getting out of bed let alone challenging me again. Besides, you are outnumbered." The dark mage removed his hand and produced a dark orb with the other. As it illuminated, I could see my comrades...fleeing. Ran Away.
"Th-That can't be. They swore they-"
"And now you see what their word got you. They ran away, again."
"But we had the fabled sword that could slay the evilest spirit in the land! We had toughened up! W-wait again?" I was confused, but as I looked back at the dark mage, I couldn't help but recognize something about them. "Y-You're not from this world!"
The mage smiled, taking a seat next to me. "Exactly. I am from Earth too. But I came before you...and just like you, I had a team of heroic backup to help me fight the greatest evil in the land. And just like before, they ran when the time for heroics came."
I stared at the orb, unsure of what to make of the man's words. Truth or not, I was still fixated on them.
"He died! We had to get out of there!" an elven mage exclaimed to a brutish lizard man.
"But we had the sword! We could have grabbed it before we left!" the lizard yelled back at the elf.
"If we wasted any time fooling around, we'd be dead by now, the sword is a lost cause. We'll have to figure out another artifact to track down...and hope some dumbass from another world gets the glory of grabbing it." A cat man in dark leathers would exclaim to both as he sat on a rock.
I couldn't believe it, my party was just artifact hunters? They wanted me to perish? Other heroes? The man spoke up again "I can see the questions on your face. But let me explain, we are not the first to come to this world. To vanquish the greatest evil in this land. However so far, none have succeeded."
"...so, what is the greatest evil in this land? Is it not you?" I laid back in the bed, staring up at the ceiling. My whole world, my quest, everything...shattered in an instant.
"It is not me, but you are not ready to face it yet either. Especially with those three still kicking around. Rest up 'hero' and you'll find your real destiny soon. The same I was bestowed with ages ago."
".... what is it? You know it don't you?"
"Yes, but given you're here now, only you can defeat it. I need you to follow with me and kill the goddess that keeps dragging fools here to vanquish evils that threaten her. The very evils she keeps pulling us from other worlds to deal with. She won't stop until she claims total dominion over this world. And we won't get a chance to go back so long as she draws breath. You do want to go back don't you?"
I kept staring at the ceiling, his words must be evil, they must be him trying to twist me. But...I couldn't help but sympathize with the man. How long was he in here? How long would I be here? And if he's right...we need to kill this goddess before another person gets taken by her.
|
NotJustRandomLetters
|
Thomas_Everstorm
|
2024-10-05 04:53:10
|
2024-10-05 04:15:22
| 28 | 10 | null |
lqes231
|
1fw6scr
|
1fw6scr
|
[WP] Everyone knows a supernatural high schooler needs a silly normal sidekick to go on adventures with them. But as the only “normal” kid in a school full of superheroes, wizards, vampires, etc. you’ve finally had enough being everyone’s comic relief.
|
When you think of Superman, you think about how strong he is. When you think of The Flash, you think about how fast he is. But in most superhero fights, they take hits, and naturally they get back up again and take another hit... Usually by something faster or stronger than them... But those are comics and shows, far from how things do work. Sure this is a magical school but even if you're going to be shooting fire out your ass and summon frogs in biology... Science still adheres. It sticks to you like a rash and it never goes away and just because some kids are more attuned to molecular manipulation than others. The scientific truth of superpowers is this:
....superpowers make you vulnerable...
And human nature is a catalyst for disaster.
My point was made clear via observation of Adrien Barker. The "Lightning Lord" as it were. An electro-gician studying the magic of lightning. Making the particles in the air jump into a surge of energy with a wave of his hand and a few lines of Old Latin. All Wizards of his caliber should easily be able to practice such techniques with no consequences... That was a lie, I've learned. Funny how Adrien was always careful with his water, drinking slowly and putting it down like it was made of dainty faerie glass. All those open pool parties and he's there fully clothed and not so much as a pinky in the water... I became intrigued a little into so I did a few... Tests... I became like a master of drunken fists, accidentally spilling water, he dodges, stealthily toss a magnet, it sticks.
Adrien you were a terrible liar, and twice as gullible.
Simple text asking if he needed some exam help since, y'know, we got along well enough. Thankfully the school allows you to study theory instead of practice for those not so... Magically Inclined ✨. He agreed, somehow catching on I was smart(who could've given him that idea, I wonder I wonder?). Afterwards...well.
Lights: Off
Floor: Flooded
Car battery: On
Adrien... Flesh smoking, screaming begging me to stop. Crying only for the tears despite their salt shocking him.
Crackle: Pop... Gone.
From what I understand his momma still doesn't know. A bright young future snuffed out because of one simple... exploitable weakness. Isn't it strange? Awesome power, making men above men, but that power being their one weakness? Almost like it's a punishment.
Perhaps power that enforces can also exploit.
The rest were simple after that: Sasha Gilmore, "Femme le Flame", industrial fan from the janitor's closet, scare her a little by just standing in a hallway alone, at night, with a mask, and the flames blew back on her face... Not sure to chalk that up to power exploit or human stupidity.
Steve Gray, "The Living Girder", likes to go dumpster diving in the junkyard... Albeit that was too convenient operating the magnet and melting him down for parts.
Now this next one! I thought was going to be challenge, but the solution is looking right at you! Austin Donnell, "Impenetrable", name says it all. I at first wasn't going to even try and challenge him but... Then came one day in Endurance class... He sits close to me so he can cheat off my scores, it's whatever. Already proving the frailty of man when given power academic misconduct can bite it.... Then at one point he sneezes. His nose is bright red.
"Bless you!" I whimpered out, trying to keep the facade that we were friends.
"Uh, yeah thanks Gordy... Think I got cold or something, man it sucks!"
Bingo... Impenetrable to bullets, cars, trains and a plane one time... But Bacteria always finds a way... In Austin's case it lead to him inhaling some chloroform after his Hero/Wizard/Vampiric sportsball practice.
His skin unbreakable... But from what I see... He had 4 orifices that any spear, sword, knife, or hot piece of iron can go into... 6 if you want to count the eyes...
My point was made so... Why, your Honor? Why did I do this? To my friends? To my peers? True, I never felt belittled by them one bit. But for understand, their sacrifices are noble ones. It goes to show the richest and what I think the most beautiful part about being a human being:
At the end of it all, it's still you. We are of a flawed and horrid design, and slapping these powers or gifts or magic doesn't make us any stronger. We're still under the veil of weakness that keeps us from being our most perfect selves. The Human Body, the Flesh, is weak! And we as human beings must be reminded day by day!
(First time commenting, please be kind!)
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Any other town in the country I would be considered the normal person, not the freak. But not here, not in my town, not in my school. I am the only fully human being within 3 hours of my house. The idea that everybody needs to have a human sidekick is exhausting. It’s not even like anyone says it out loud, I just get calls from everyone at school at the worst possible times to go on adventures. For the first few years after we moved here, it was fun. I liked being popular in the sense that I had lots of “friends”. But the shine has officially worn off. In sixth grade I nearly died when Kara decided that it would be fun to go burn graffiti on old man Thompsons’s house. In eighth grade I lost an ear haunting with the ghosts of the town. Don’t ask me how that one came about; it still confuses me. By the time I was as senior in high school I had broken all my ribs at least once, my nose 4 times, lost an ear a couple of times and yet I still have two on my head, also baffled by that one. My skull had been crushed at least twice, and both of my legs shattered on numerous occasions. In all honesty if my mom hadn’t made friends with the wizards in town, I’d have died years ago; but here I am.
I’ve been dealing with being everyone’s sidekick for too long now. But that’s going to change. I’m a senior in high school now and I know all their weaknesses. One of the perks to going along with the whole sidekick thing. They pretty much let their guard down around you. After graduation there would be no more bullying me for saying no. No more looking over my shoulder for somebody trying to ambush me into an adventure. Never again would the vampires ask me to go spooking with them. The demons wouldn’t ask me to haunt with them ever again. I would be free.
Today I started the second semester of senior year, and I heard the dreadful sound of the Athletes coming up to me to ask me to go with them on some shenanigan, but before they got to me, I turned around and sighed, “Don’t even bother asking, the answer is no.” They roared laughing, but I continued to stare blankly at them until the leader of the jocks caught on that I was serious.
“did you just say, ‘no’?” he asked as he stood up straighter and stepped in closer trying to intimidate me. “I think Typ here has forgotten that he is the sidekick, which really means, Nobody.” He growled the last word in my ear, trying to get into my head.
I just stepped back a little bit and looked at the group, shrugged my shoulders, and quipped, “well if that’s the case then it is true, that nobody knows all your weak spots. I told you the answer is ‘no’ and if you don’t leave me alone, I’ll hit you where it hurts.”
They just stared at me as I walked away, and the whispers could be heard all through the school. The day was almost done when I got called down to the principal’s office, and he called me to talk about what happened with the jocks. “So, Typ,” he started. Even the teachers called me that, I’m pretty sure they’ve all forgotten that it’s not my name. I swallowed the frustration as he continued, “Kyle says that you threatened him earlier today. Do you want to tell me about that?”
I took a deep breath before I answered, “Sir, I didn’t threaten him. I simply told him I wasn’t going to be their sidekick for the remainder of this year. I have been the sidekick for every student that attends this school and even a few that don’t, for as long as I can remember, it has nearly gotten me killed more times than I can count, and I’m just not going to do it anymore, and you can’t make me.”
With that I simply stood up and walked out of there. As I tried to make it to my car, all the kids from school jumped me, and tried to beat the living crap out of me. I came prepared though, so they only landed a few blows. Sadly enough, I lost my ear yet again, not surprised. But in the end, all the kids were laying on the asphalt groaning. I think a couple were dead, I didn’t hang around to find out because whether I wanted it that way or not, I had just become this towns first ever villain, and if I’m being honest, I wasn’t mad about it.
|
WetToast99
|
KeyExcitement8266
|
2023-01-16 03:28:46
|
2023-01-16 03:08:44
| 37 | 26 |
j4jfykg
|
j4jdc7v
|
10cl4ph
|
10cl4ph
|
[WP] Level 100 in the East is about the same a level 20 in the West… which is a shame for the level 52 sorceress who just severely underestimated you…
|
She had gotten cocky from the “level difference”, I suppose, and rushed in to cut me up with the flame spear she had just transmuted her staff into. Pretty impressive! I’d put her at a level 10 where I come from. My armor was faaar too enchanted for this to last longer than a round, though…
…and she was starting to come to. “Sorry for the shield to the face!” I braced her, “but I’m pretty sure I put your teeth back in the same places before I healed you.” I try a reassuring smile and nod as I draw her attention to my trusty shield, which I’ll have to clean later.
“You’re not even level 20… how…?!” By her tone, she hasn’t figured it out, I guess. Then, sorcerer’s don’t exactly *have* to be smart. Just incredibly powerful. Smarts are a wizards job!
“Im guilded with the Wizards of the West, silly! We don’t track every little feature with a level like you East-Coast Elves—we humans and such don’t live long enough to check all those boxes! When you’re stronger and can do something new is good enough for us!
Anyways, pretty rude of you to come out firing, huh? As a Paladin of Western Redemption, it’s my duty and desire to enlighten you on the more humane ways of parlaying in the wilds—ooh, here’s some spare parchment so you can read along—it begins with Clevius Delta…”
|
“Seriously? Is that it?” I said unimpressed.
The Sorceress is looking at me in shock. She’s cute I suppose. Heart shaped face, pretty red eyes, wolf ears skimpy robes. But she started gloating about being level 52 and mastering level 5 spells. I just kept on my way and she just cast everything her entire repertoire on me. A shame that I had subtle cast globe of invulnerability just before she did her thing. I had cast only one spell. Honestly i wanted to ask something to her but..
“How?!” She’s screeched. “You’re only level 30!!! How do you know a 6th level spell!!!”
“I’m from the West. We do levels differently there. Level 20 back home is the equivalent of level 100 here.” I explained. I saw her paling face, widening eyes are shining with tears unshed.
“I… I… I’m sorry PLEASE FORGIVE ME!!!” She sobbed falling to all fours trembling like a leaf.
Honestly…. What am I to do now?
|
BirdhouseInYourSoil
|
gigainpactinfinty5
|
2024-08-12 22:31:08
|
2024-08-12 18:20:09
| 120 | 40 |
lhtj53o
|
lhs831w
|
1eqj9kd
|
1eqj9kd
|
[WP] Magic is only usable by the elite. Anyone caught doing magic without the multi-thousand gold permit is subject to prison, or worse. An orphan on the streets has to hide that she has the power to use fire from everyone in town. That is, until the princess catches her.
|
I looked up and down the street, wondering if anyone had seen me sneeze. It wasn’t a common occurrence, but every now and then my magic would sneak out. This time, it had come as a little puff of smoke. If it weren’t for the fact that it could get me arrested, I would have laughed at how I resembled a dragon.
Being able to wield fire was convenient on a winter’s night. I could play struggling to light a fire with some old sticks, only for it to spring to life after I “struggled” with it. But on a hot summer’s day the so-called gift was a liability. It was asking for me to get caught, brought before the magistrates, and charged with illegal use of magic. Not that I could help what I was. I wasn’t a wealthy wizard surrounded by piles of books, permitted to use magic by proving their scholarly aptitude and purchasing a permit. I was an orphaned sorcerer whose parents doubtless came from another kingdom where magic was less restricted. I didn’t know if something had happened to them, or if they had abandoned me over my magic, and, honestly, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know.
Not long after the sneeze, I ducked into a tavern with a help wanted sign, hoping I could pick up a few coins and some of their leftover food. The tavern’s owners quickly put me to work in the kitchen, and I was grateful to be hidden away from the scene of my hopefully unnoticed crime. I could still feel the magic coursing through me, threatening a more potent release later, but I continued to push it down.
When patrons started arriving from dinner, I was pulled out of the kitchens and into the main dining hall of the tavern, where I was put to work clearing the tables and refilling drinks. The tavern was full, and there were more than a few guests with coin to spare that I worked extra hard to refill the drinks of, hoping for just a small portion of their coin to end up in my meager purse.
My plan was going well until my magic acted up. Spectacularly.
I was pouring water into a lady’s glass when another sneeze came up. A little puff of smoke came out of my nose again, and I tried my best to ignore it in the hopes that she and her companions would ignore it too. It was late and the tavern was full, so of course the candles were burning brightly.
But the expulsion of my magic didn’t stop with the little puff of smoke. I managed to set the pitcher down and turn around before a second, more violent sneeze erupted, and with it a jet of flame.
It was a miracle that I didn’t sneeze onto another patron and light them on fire.
“That was *not* normal,” the lady said.
“Apologies,” I said, pretending that the fire hadn’t happened. “Allergies.”
“Well, I was referring to the fire,” the lady said.
I didn’t know what to say. Nobody had ever actually called me out on my magic before, and so I was frozen in place.
She got out of her seat and whispered in my ear. “Meet me around the back after your shift. I have a proposition.”
I carefully worked the rest of the evening, grateful that nobody outside of the lady’s table had noticed my little outburst of magic. I even earned enough coin that I would have slightly better meals for the next few days
When I was finally done working and had had my fill of the leftovers that couldn’t be saved for breakfast, I made my way around the back of the tavern. The lady was flanked by her companions from dinner, and I wondered if I had made a mistake.
“My name is Princess Drina of the Riverlands,” she said. “I’m sure you’re aware of our country’s restrictions on magic.”
I immediately fell to my knees, and opened my mouth to beg for mercy. “I can’t con-”
Princess Drina cut me off. “However, I have recently learned that there are certain individuals who have an innate ability for magic, separate from any studies that can be undertaken or oaths made to deities.”
I stared at her, dumbstruck. She had heard of sorcerers? Most people thought we were a myth, or a scary story. Magic took the wizards and clerics years to learn. Even I sometimes wondered if I was a fluke, because I had never met another person like me.
“It is my intention to change our country’s policies to be more compassionate, but I need to know more about a sorcerer’s magic arises,” she said. “If you were willing, I would take you on as one of my maids, and conduct studies.”
“Your highness, that would be a life-changing opportunity,” I said. I wasn’t sure how else to respond to her offer.
“Then come with me,” she said, extending a hand to help me up from the round. “Daimian, run ahead of us and make sure there’s a suitable place for-” she looked at me, clearly asking my name.
“Nella,” I said.
“-a suitable place for Nella to stay,” Princess Drina finished.
One of the guards bowed and immediately set off running. Then the princess turned her attention back to me. “Apologies for the abrupt offer. I hope I’m not disrupting other plans you had.”
I laughed. “No apologies needed, your highness. My plans for tonight were to find a bench or patch of grass to sleep in.”
*****
**Thanks for reading!** If you enjoyed this, I have more writing posted at my subreddit, /r/TheLastComment
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The streets of the lower city stink of filth and death. Rows of huts, layered atop one another, mimic the appearance of one large building, only seperated by the ramshackle ladders and paths down to the main road below.
The ones on the bottom have it the worst. Steadily crushed by those above, they slowly become one with the road itself, buckling under the incredble weight of the hundreds of rows of identical homes above them.
None of that compares to living on the streets themselves.
Edith searches fruitlessly for scraps of food among the unending sea of waste and refuse between the columns. Her hands are coated in grime. Her brown and black clothes are more like tattered rags. Her hood still works, so she has it draped over her head - a small comfort. She stands up from searching, her knees and back ache from hunching over the hard stone road. The sun lowers out of view, almost immediately shrouding her in darkness, the sets of homes around her form walls. She snaps her fingers, and a meager flame bursts out into the air between them. It shifts, and rests within her palm, offering a soft orange light. A rat scurries out from a stray shadow, and she reaches out, flinging the small flame into its overgrown body. It cooks from within. She retrieves a small knife from a hidden holster on her thigh, and skins the rat before eating it. It tastes sick and bitter. She finishes the rat, and sleep takes her without her notice.
When she wakes, Edith is greeted by the sun. Once more, its rays pierce her eyes through the small bit of sky she's allowed on the slum-streets. She welcomes it. Her hood fell while she slept, and her short auburn hair glows in the morning sunlight. She stands, and almost immediately finds herself laying down again, with a new pain in her chest. A man stands above her, fist still clenched, a knight of the city. The insignia on his shoulder matches the one on the hilt of his sword, and designates him as a member of the mageguard. He looks at her with a particular disdain and disgust. To his left and slightly behind him, a woman of medium build stands proudly. She wears expensive jewels on her ears and fine metalwork around her neck.
This is the princess of Karth. Captor of unauthorized and underclassed mages. Edith already knows why she's here. The princess begins to speak. Edith expects herself to be addressed, but the princess ignores her in favor of her mageguard escort.
"This is the one. Take her with us."
Without hesiation, the knight grabs Edith by the arm and drags her with him. He is no giant of a man, but he's still more than strong enough to overpower her. They take her through to the other end of the lower city, lowering the magical wards as they do so, allowing them to gain entry into the middle city. The wards close behind them, and Edith knows she'll never go back. They continue on, and the well-seperated homes of the middle city part to make way for the entrance to the high stratum, where all royal citizens and affairs have their place. There is no ward seperating the two. Never in her life has Edith seen such a display of wealth. Never has she felt so sick and so reviled by the people and places around her. Soon enough, they arrive at a prison. The gates stand before them, casting a shadow that stretches for a hundred feet across this side of the high stratum.
Edith feels her stomach churn. Fear wells within her. She can feel a special type of agony leaking through the stone and metalwork before her. Thousands of souls crying out, begging to be shown a mercy that will not come. Their despair has seeped into the space around the prison, corrupting its fabric. Edith can hear nothing but the infinite loathing of a million damned souls. Feel nothing but their suffering, compounded and compressed into a singluarity of torment.
The fire magic within her senses the fuel. It craves, demands to be fed, gnaws at her. She can't take it. The knight tries to push her toward the gate. She pushes back, looks at him for the briefest of moments. His flesh and blood conflagarates as his bones become ashen dust. It takes only moments for a man to be reduced to nothing, and his empty chainmail left a melted husk on the road. The princess looks on in horror, tries to run, and finds herself rooted to the spot in terror. She, too, becomes nothing as she meets Edith's hungry gaze.
Edith wants to stop. She wants to turn off the magic, to close her eyes and sleep. But the magic wants to burn. Flames erupt from all around her, turning the golden arches of the capital to a thick slurry, the wooden homes of the middle city into ash. And when it has nothing left to burn, no pain left to fuel it, the fire turns on her.
​
She burns, and the city burns with her.
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lastcomment314
|
imma_get_ya_bad_guys
|
2023-08-26 03:08:51
|
2023-08-26 01:20:32
| 35 | 26 |
jxs8rtj
|
jxrvmlx
|
161dqwp
|
161dqwp
|
[WP]The young teen hero has called you, one of the oldest villains crying, apparently from what you could hear, their parents killed their dog from not doing a chore and kicked them out since they are gay, and then they ask if they could live with you
|
In a dark corner of a large room sits a small end table of what appears to be black wood.
On that end table sits an old red rotary-style telephone.
It starts to ring.
On the other side of the large catacomb decorated room a 30 something looking man raises his head and looks at the phone curiously. By the middle of the second ring he is by the phone picking it up and putting it to his ear with a puzzled look on his face.
" 'Allo?"
A short silence, followed by a sobbing rambling monologue that the man can only catch a few words of, "parents.... chore..... killed.... throwing...... gay...."
He raises his left eyebrow in puzzled recognition of that voice. 'Let's see, it's a young female. Don't know too many of those. Hmm, doesn't sound like Crimson Slaughter's daughter, or Death Trap's niece.'
"Mr. Void, are you there?" The voice asks tremulously.
"I'm here Starburst." That's right that annoying new Heroine. "Can you please repeat that, slower this time?"
"Um, my parents told me to clean my room yesterday afternoon, right before I left to patrol the city." She paused for a moment gathering her strength for the next few sentences. "After I got back from patrol, I found a note on my door, saying that what awaits in my room is the consequences for not doing my chore. I walked in and saw they had killed..." her voice stopped for a few seconds, "rascal, my dog. I, i think i fell to my knees. I don't know how long I sat there staring, but, when I looked up to where all my pictures used to hang, I noticed everything was gone, all my stuff. There was another note pinned to the wall, 'there will be no homosexuals in this house, your stuff is in the dumpster where you belong.' I tried to dial the other Heros, but they all said that they can't be seen helping someone like me. I remembered you had mentioned your phone line was the first in the area last week during our fight near that cemetery and I just tried the lowest phone number, and you answered. I don't know who else to turn to..." she said not quite as quickly as before.
He sighed, 'Over 3000 years of cultural, societal, and human evolution and this still happens.' "You remember the symbol on my cloak?"
"Yes... I think so?" She answered cautiously.
"I need you to draw that symbol on the back wall of your closet, in both your blood and your dog's blood, and then knock on the symbol 4 times."
She gasped as she realised she would have cut her beloved pet to get to the blood.
"And bring your dog too." He said right before he hung up.
He gave minimal thought as to how Starburst would react to the portal that minor ritual would open, or the fact that it would lead her straight to the workshop he was standing in, or the experiments and... remains of his... 'willing' volunteers strewn about said workshop. He concentrated, drew some blood from a finger, and wrote a small, complicated, set of symbols, that he had used far too often for his liking. The symbols glowed an eldritch dark blood red before a Door appeard in the wall near the phone. He slowly walked over to it and opened the door. Inside was a bedroom that wouldn't be out of place in any upscale American home. It was minimally decorated in neutral but warm calming colours. The Queen sized bed had a set of small stairs on one side, perfect for pets that couldn't jump up onto the bed.
As he was inspecting the room to make sure all the furniture had formed properly there was a loud gasp and a small hiccup/sob from his workshop.
"In here Starburst." He called not even bothering to turn around.
After a few minutes he heard small shuffling noises behind him. He turned around and saw that Starburst was cowering near the doorframe, holding her dead dog closely in her arms.
"Come in and sit on the bed." Void said in a calming tone.
Starburst looked fearfully at him, then his workshop and then back at him. "...."
He sighed, 'I guess I forgot to clean things up a bit out there.' He slowly raised his left hand, "I swear upon my existence that I will not intentionally harm you while you are under my protection except in self defense." His body flashed an eldritch blood red.
Starburst slowly entered the bedroom and gingerly sat in the bed. "What happens now?" She asked, obviously frightened of the things she saw in the workshop.
"Now, I retire for a bit, again. And before you ask why, the reason is, I'm going to be raising you until you are healed from this well enough to live your own life."
"Why?" She asked, worried and a bit confused.
"Those things that gave birth to you and killed, at least temporarily if you let me, your dog, are not going to be enjoying, well, the afterlife. I have a low tolerance for certain things. Like what has happened to you for example." He said gently.
Starburst started to nod in understanding before realising what he said about her dog, "Wait, what do you mean, temporarily if I let you?"
Void nodded, "You have seen some of my powers when we fought near the cemetery. I can bring your dog back to life, well, as a zombie dog, for the rest of either your life or what would have been the rest of its life."
Starburst gaped and sat stock still.
"I'll give you till tomorrow to think about it. Try to get some sleep." He turned around and walked out, gently closing the door.
THE END, maybe.
|
You caress the photo lovingly as a tear threatens to drip from the corner of your eye. Power is useless if everything you love is taken. The phone rings, breaking you from your thoughts. As it rings again you blink and cock your head. Intrigue sets in, and you set down the photograph.
Very few are privy to this number, and of them only a select few would dare call it. Being one of the oldest villains, it doesn’t come as a surprise that everyone fears you. The younger generation even have named you Chronos when you harnessed the sands of time. Reaching over, you pick up the phone from its cradle.
“Yes?” You answer, curiosity growing.
“Is this Chronos?” A wavery feminine voice comes over the line. Odd you don’t recognize her voice, but you decide to give her the benefit of the doubt. Anyone who gets this number has the right to be heard. You run your hands over an ornate hourglass on the table, loving the way the Victorian grooves feel in between your fingers. You pick it up and then redirect your attention to the call.
“You have two minutes to capture my attention before I hang up.” You pause for a moment, before gracefully turning the hourglass over, watching the stark white sand spill through the bottleneck.
This was not the voice of one of the other villains. There was something familiar about this voice, but you can’t quite place it.
“Please don’t hang up, you have to help me.” A sob escapes over the phone.
“I am a villain; I am not in the business of helping people.”
“You somehow got the wrong number, find a hero if you need help.”
“I am a hero though!” You feel your left eyebrow slowly raise, as if caught with a fishhook.
“Oh, a hero calls me. What even makes you think I will help a hero, I am a villain after all.”
“…Selene told me to…” You sit forward, resting on your elbow, you wave your fingers and the sand in the hourglass slows to a halt as another sob escapes the phone. Your eyes focus on the photo.
“How do you know that name.” Anxiety funnels into your being and the grains of sand begin to dance erratically inside the hourglass. The sobs get louder, and your patience grows thin.
“You don’t seem to understand, I kill heroes. Tell me how you know that name or so help me…” rage boils inside you as you trail off.
“She loved me…” and just like that, the fire in your soul was doused by a freezing revelation. You know this voice, and of course, how could you ever forget? This was her voice.
“What do you need?” A gruff answer, barely conveying the muted cacophony of emotions echoing inside your soul.
“I don’t know! My family…they killed my dog, the one Selene got for me.” You feel the phone crack under your tightening fist.
“Why?” You barely contain yourself as you bite through your lip. You are retired, you don’t kill the innocent. She made you promise not to.
“I didn’t finish my chores.” Crash The hourglass shatters as you grind your teeth together.
“…when they found out I was gay… they kicked me out” She sobs again, and you hear her voice grow hoarse from the effort. Your lip curls up in disgust.
“Please, can I stay with you? I don’t have anywhere else to go!” She moans through the phone. You eye the picture and see Selene’s smile staring back at you.
*“I can’t wait to have her meet you one day!”* You close your eyes, as a tear falls. Selene’s final words, tug at your heart cord as they ring in your ears. With a heavy sigh you collect yourself, raising your hand as the hourglass reforms.
“Do you know of the Crawford Estate down on fourth?”
“Yes, but no one is allowed on the grounds.”
“Be there in two hours, someone will be here to let you in.”
“But what are you---” You hang up, reaching over and picking up the picture.
“Selene … I loved you. You wanted me to be a better man, to stop killing. For years I stayed in the background.” You stroke the photograph affectionately. A soft smile works it’s way onto your face, but it quickly falls into a grimace. You clench and unclench your fist and shake your head.
“Time has been harsh, and now to preserve the love that you had for her…I will make your love’s life better. I will provide for her the way you would have.” You set the image down in the center of the table, kissing your fingers before you press them over her smiling face. You stand up straight, tightening your fist as you do.
“But first I must make sure that they pay for what they have done.” The glass shatters as you turn on your heel and march to the door. Stopping, you place one hand on the door jamb, turning back and locking eyes with the picture again.
“I failed you, but I will not fail her, even if I have to break that promise to you.” You leave with a scowl, cutting across your face, but inside you feel your power bubble with excitement and a viscous smile breaks across your face. “I am going to thoroughly enjoy this.”
|
TapNo9785
|
Basic_Worldliness192
|
2023-02-09 04:46:18
|
2023-02-09 01:43:10
| 17 | 10 |
j7t13l3
|
j7sdqo5
|
10wiea9
|
10wiea9
|
[WP] You placed your fingertips on the very edge of your queen's blade held a single inch away from your throat. Staring her straight in her murderous eyes begging for a reason not to kill you there and then. " Because your grace I'm the only one who respects you enough to tell you NO."
|
You felt the cold steel on your throat. You didn’t move. You couldn’t. Her fiery eyes fixed on yours, full of rage. Her hand shook on the hilt. You pressed your fingers against the blade’s edge, barely pushing.
“Speak,” she snapped. “One reason. Give me one reason not to kill you.”
You breathed in, slow and steady. The blade pressed closer. “Because,” you said, meeting her gaze, “I am the only one who respects you enough to say no.”
Her lips curled. Her anger twisted her face. “No?” she repeated. “You dare—”
“I dare,” you said, cutting her off. “I dare because no one else will. Your court fears you. Your army obeys you. They won’t tell you when you’re wrong. But I will.”
Her grip trembled. Her eyes wavered. For a moment, she seemed unsure. Her breath hitched, her jaw tightened, but she said nothing.
“Does that make me loyal?” you asked. “Yes. Because I care. I care more about you than the crown.”
The silence thickened. Her hand shook harder. The queen—the conqueror, the warrior—hesitated.
“You tread on thin ice,” she whispered. Her voice lost its edge. “This doesn’t make you safe.”
“I know,” you said. You lowered your hands. “But someone must save you from yourself.”
She exhaled sharply. Her blade dropped an inch. Then she stepped back. Her shoulders stiffened, but her eyes softened. She turned and strode toward her throne.
“Leave,” she ordered, her voice filling the room.
The courtiers fled. You stood still, unsure. She sat, gripping the armrests. She didn’t look at you.
“Stay,” she said suddenly.
You froze. Slowly, you turned. Her gaze was distant, her fingers tense.
“If you were me,” she asked quietly, “what would you do?”
Her tone softened. It was not an order. It was not a threat. It was a question. A plea.
You stepped forward, feeling the blade’s memory still on your neck.
“I would listen,” you said.
(Want more stories? Follow me on [Facebook](https://www.facebook.com/theunseenoficial?mibextid=ZbWKwL))
|
"You call that respect? Slaying my husband in his sleep. You lack both: respect and honor." Her gaze sterened, the blade pushing closer.
"Your highness. He was a fraud." I firmed my voice. I knew it would come this, but I still chose to do so. "Mingling with the other ladies in your absence doesn't sound like respect."
"Liar!" Her growl echoed throughout the castle dome. The guards shook in their helms. "Don't speak down of him, you traitor. Tell me which kingdom sent you here."
"I killed him on my own accordance." I stated. I could see it her eyes now, the doubt creeping in.
"Then why did you refuse to speak about it until now?"
"Because I knew you wouldn't believe me. The fact that you have sword up against my throat is proof of that."
Blood seeped down my neck as the blade pushed closer, I had to double down.
"The only reason I went to such lenghts was for you. Highness. I only did everything for you -" I choked, the cold blade piercing my voice.
She pulled out the sword and lifted its hilt. The next moment, my head hit the floor, blood staining the marble tiles below.
"Your Highness..." One of the guards regarded. "We needed to interview him to see who sent him -"
"Silence." She ordered, her mind going mad. After a while of pondering, she finally stated, "The women."
"What?"
"Collect all of the women in this house - No, this kingdom, and bring them to me."
The guards tried to calm her, but she was far too gone.
With the king dead and the queen mentally distracted, the kingdom wouldn't last long.
My death wouldn't be in vain.
|
theunseenofficial
|
Bob_is_a_banana
|
2024-12-23 20:01:30
|
2024-12-23 17:24:30
| 346 | 126 |
m3hia1h
|
m3gpq0q
|
1hkoa4x
|
1hkoa4x
|
[WP] The group of new humans who just joined your ship begin to act weird about the humans already present...they keep mentioning something call the uncanny valley? Maybe this is a place on Sol?
|
Max was uncomfortable with the new arrivals. He voiced his concern to his friends.
"Hey, I don't wanna, like... discriminate or anything, but do you think-"
"I know." His friend, Jakie cuts in. Together, they take in the sight. A few dozen survivors board their ship. Just like any other day. But the closer they came, the more deformities the boys noticed on them. Not that they hadn't seen deformed people get rescued from Sol before. But this.... was different.
These people weren't missing any limbs. They weren't burned, scarred, or injured in any way, at least, they didn't appear to be.
Max turns to Jakie.
"Maybe it's just the radiation? Zero Day really decimated the place... They could just be sick..."
"I don't think so. I... They kinda creep me out..." Jakie replied.
A man with his eyes a little too far apart. A boy with an asymmetrical head. A woman with one arm longer than the other.
"There's no way they are from Sol. They hardly look human." Jake continued.
At these words, one little girl looks at him. Jakie smiles.
The girl smiles back. As her mouth opens, he sees that she has no teeth. Or tongue. Or... anything.
Jakie shudders.
The last of them board the ship, and the "Sol Survivor" leaves the docking area, presumably to continue searching.
Max says, "We should leave. We are being rude."
Jakie agrees, and they walk back towards their quarters. They wish each other goodnight and go to bed. But while Max dozes off, all he can think about is what life will be like with these... new people.
---
The emergency light flashes. Max opens his eyes slowly. He rubs his eyes and looks at the time. 2:42? He looks up at the emergency light, spinning around just over his room door. What's going on?
Just then, the sirens go off all across the ship. Max goes into panic mode and dresses himself, trying to remember the protocol for an emergency. Buttoning his shirt as he gets to the door, he puts his hand on the pad to unlock it.
It opens.
A little girl is standing in front of him.
"What the.. hey, it's not safe!"
Max points to the emergency siren.
"Where's your mommy?"
The girl simply shakes her head.
"Fine, just come with me." Max reaches out his hand.
The girl smiles.
A big, big smile.
(My first time writing, I'm open to criticism!:) )
|
The strange kid walks with stilted gait. His eyes flick about the room, jittering in odd patterns.
“Mommy, look.” Leah points.
Mommy smacks her hand.
“Don’t point, baby.” Mom says, then lowers her voice. “He’s probably handicapped, dear. Don’t be mean.”
The odd boy notices her pointing and approaches.
“Greetings.” He says, then sticks out his hand. “I’m Tom.”
He puts his arm out at breast level, as though her were shaking a woman’s tit rather than a hand.
Mommy is polite and takes his oddly leveled hand.
“Nice to meet you.” Mom says. “I’m Mrs. Johnson, and this is my daughter, Leah.”
His eyes flick between her lips, eyes, cheeks, forehead, teeth, and hair as she talks, as though he cannot decide what to land on.
His mouth sits barely open, and Leah can see him wildly flicking his tongue.
He extends his arm to Leah, putting it above her head.
“Nice to meet you, Leah.” He says.
Leah’s heart pounds. She suddenly wants to hide beneath her covers. She does not take his hand.
“Leah!” Mommy places Leah’s hand in Tom’s. “Manners! You say hi to this boy!”
“Hi.” Leah says, giving a dead fish handshake.
“Hi.” Tom says. “I’m Tom!”
For the first time, Tom looks at Leah and stops his jittering. His eyes still.
“Say, do I know you?” Tom asks, his eyes again moving rapidly. His mouth sits open. His tongue dances.
Leah swears she sees fangs and loses her own voice.
Mommy nudges Leah.
“Dear?” Mom says. “Have you seen him somewhere else on the ship? Maybe during children play time?”
“No.”
“No.” Tom echoes. “I know her from before.”
The horns sprout rapidly. Long talons extend from Tom’s stubby fingers. His eyes slit vertically, and his nostrils slit horizontally. His skull and head smooth, like a reptile’s.
His back hunches to nearly a half circle as he mounts the floor. His skin melts into scales.
His lizard tail flicks behind him. His forked tongue licks his fangs.
He pounces.
|
Blockbuster41
|
None
|
2023-06-23 00:10:52
|
2023-06-22 20:27:26
| 561 | 109 |
jp5thd2
|
jp4yify
|
14gcxl5
|
14gcxl5
|
[WP] Write an angry ending monologue of someone in a small town who tried to warn the people something bad was going to happen, no one listened, and now people are dead.
|
The six jaws of the dragon-god Terravore opened wide, its rows of shark-like teeth each taller than a man standing. Its thirteen horns blot out the sun, and cast complex shadows across the wasteland that was once green city park. Dozens of red eyes roll in their sockets, then focus on you.
I SENSE YOU MAGICAL POWER LITTLE WORM
The voice originates from Terravore, and from the air itself, and from you. Its coming from all around you, it's coming from inside your own mind. A horrible and forbidden tongue, befitting a god of destruction.
BUT YOUR TRIFLING MAGIC WON’T SAVE YOU FROM BEING CONSUMED! I, TERRAVORE WILL EAT YOU, YOUR VERY ESSENCE AND SOUL, AND THEN THE WOR-
Most awkward soul consumption ever, your phone just started ringing. This is in fact, especially weird, because you never turn on the volume. You and Terravore stare awkwardly at each other while the ringing continues.
WHAT IS THAT?
“Uh, it's my phone, sorry.”
WHAT IS A ‘PHONE’?
“It, uh, let’s me communicate with other people… and browse the internet… and stuff”
GOOD, USE YOUR CRYSTAL BALL PHONE TO HERALD TO THE WORLD, IT IS ABOUT TO BE CONSUMED BY THE MIGHTY TERRAVORE!
A dozen scarlet eyes the size of SUVs stare at you expectantly. You answer your phone.
“Uh, hello?”
“Dude where are you? Professor Weatherwax just dropped a pop-quiz on thaumic runes, its like 10% of our grades. I already sent you like, eight messages about it.”
“I’m uh, kind of in the middle of something.”
“Oh shit, sorry for using the Volume On cantrip then, but seriously, you’re already on Weatherwax’s shit list, you gotta get over here!”
TELL THEM ABOUT ME CONSUMING THE WORLD
“Oh uh, there’s this dragon god here, and it’s going to consume the world”
TELL THEM ABOUT MY SIX MOUTHS, AND THIRTEEN HORNS, AND HOW I’M REALLY BIG
“It’s got like six mouths, and uh, thirteen horns, and its like really big.”
“Oh wait, you mean Terravore?”
“You know this guy?”
“Yeah one second, I’ll be right there.”
The call ends. You stand awkwardly before the might of Terravore.
WHAT DID THEY SAY?
“Um, they’re on their way?”
GOOD, ALL SHOULD WITNESS THE POWER OF MY DRACONIC FORM, ALL SHOULD-
1/2
|
Humans are foolish and ignorant of the dangers of the world. They think they are invincible. They take life for granted. They take and hurt and expect kindness in return.
I believed in humans. I did. When the coven head came home with a malnourished, terrified, dirty, and hurt human boy, couldn't be more than eight, I knew the small town would face the wrath of my coven. I was furious too, humans are so cruel, they leave their own fledlings to die... Yet I still went and warned them.
They laughed, called me a freak, child of the night, a *monster*.
They thought I was joking. Ungratefull little ants, destined to suffer the wrath of my coven. They begged to me, when my people came seeking death, amusement, *a meal*. They promised me the stars, they cried and whined and screamed.
After the sun came up, the last of the coven retreated to tend to their duties. The coven head and his family gained a new fledling. There was a lot to do.
They called me, but I wanted to look for survivors.
This is what the ignorance of these fools led to. This is their karma, the Goddess' punishment for those who had hurt their own. Their blood painted the ground. It was a messy feast. My stomach was full too, I got a couple of men who tried to flee. They tried to sacrifice the weak, the children.
A lot of new fledlings had to be taken care of, now that I think about it.
Now that the root of the infection was killed, new flowers could bloom, healty, and beautiful. And it was my duty to rid the world of the dead weed, so it can never blossom again. The flames of my fury and spite slowly died down as I sent my children, souls who couldn't find peace, to look for new siblings, children souls, lost in the massacre of the feast.
Humans are foolish and ignorant.
Vampires are not.
|
DeeDeeEx
|
fanonimus99
|
2025-01-17 16:08:26
|
2023-01-27 07:14:55
| 245 | 14 | null |
j62n1ss
|
1i3i7cs
|
10mcrb4
|
[WP] You are a beekeeper. You have a special relationship with your bees. You are able to communicate with them and they’re intelligent enough to see you removing honey as “rent”. This year things are different. The new queens are politely requesting that you invest some money to improve the hives.
|
*As you can see*, the bee in front of me buzzed in morse code, *the Queen believes that our professional relationship can now move to the next level.*
I took a sip of my honey-chamomille tea. "Do go on," I replied calmly.
*We have observed the transactions with the rent you remove from our hive.*
"The honey," I corrected.
*Yes. We have seen the amount of Green Paper you receive and believe a mutually beneficial agreement can be made. As you can see here...* the bee said as a swarm of new bees flew in and formed a chart, *building a larger larval area with additional entrances sun-ward would increase the hive's Rent production by 51% as soon as the following summer.*
"Interesting."
*Furthermore, removing the large human structure next to us and planting cherry trees in the area would further improve both our quality of life and the quality of the Rent.*
"I'm afraid that's my neighbour's house, ma'am. Can't raze that."
*Is a hostile takeover out of the question?*
"Completely."
The bee paused for a second. *Understandable*, it finally buzzed.
"Still - a new larval pod with more entrances? That is not an issue. I can get that done in... 3 weeks? Unless an emergency at work happens."
The bee jumped up and down excitedly.
*Very speedy! The Queen will be pleased.*
"Excellent!" I chuckled and clasped my hands. "Would you like this in writing?" I laughed.
The bee stood still.
*What's writing?*
|
Keeper: oh sure! What needs improving?
Queen: well, we are running out of room for our larvae. The queen before me would have just cast them out of the hive, but I cannot bring myself to kill such precious things.
Keeper: wow, well I have been doing well enough for myself so... I guess I can help you guys out.
Queen: many thanks, forgive me if it was presumptuous to ask it of you. We will be sure to use this new room to create more honey also.
Keeper: no it’s fine! I love you guys, I want you to be comfortable.
The queen blushes at this statement.
In the following weeks you construct a great expansion to the hive, you even give them a jar of honey to aid in their expansion.
The queen flies up to you one day and lands in your hand.
Queen: noble keeper, I feel it is only right to give you a gift.
Keeper: that’s very kind of you! What is it?
Queen: a gift that I would be forbidden to give had I been a wild queen.
She flies up and kisses you on the forehead.
You feel yourself shrink and transform into a type of bee that you don’t recognize.
|
SirPiecemaker
|
Pretend-Orange3026
|
2023-01-22 09:34:25
|
2023-01-22 05:35:10
| 885 | 135 |
j5e4vw4
|
j5dlm0a
|
10i7g15
|
10i7g15
|
[WP] One genie specialises in a specific kind of ironic wishes. If the wish is for fitness and health, the genie is a drill sergeant from hell and whips them into shape. If they wish for money, the genie makes them go through years of economic schooling.
|
"So you twist people's wishes?"
"I wouldn't say that, they always get what they wished for in the end. I am a good genie. "
"Then why do you do this? Like why do you make people go through that to fulfill their wishes?"
The genie looked at me as if trying to find an easy way to explain it.
"Because of two things, first: they need to understand the value of whatever they gained from it, let's look at an good example: one of my previous masters wished to be fit and healthy so I summoned an Ifrit who trains soldiers in hell to whip them into shape. If they didn't suffer from it they could just throw it all away with the same way they gained it.
"Oh, I see. So the lesson it's to value what you have and that good things never stay if you don't put some effort to keep them?"
"You seemed to understand it kid. But that's not the only reason for me to do this, there is also the deal of knowing how to use what you just got." He explained waving his finger over his head. "Let's return to our previous example, if I had just given him the body right away he wouldn't have any of the muscle memory from the, literal, hellish training he gone through and would have difficulty adjusting to his new strength and the end result wouldn't be the best he could ever become."
"I see that working for skills but I'm not convinced about material gains like riches
"For another example let's say my master wished for and I quote "a crapload of money", without the knowledge on HOW to manage the money you would just spend it and there is the end of that, a useless wish that made their life easier for a short while before they returned to being poor"
"Well, that makes sense. So in the end you are just teaching them with extra steps?"
"Actually no extra steps. I teach them, the only "extra" step is creating an environment that they are the most efficient at learning. Even a simple wish like someone who ain't passing a starvation period to have a fruit can come with a valuable lesson like giving them seeds and teaching them to be patient and attentive."
"What about impossible wishes? Like immortality or magical powers? Those can't just be taught, right?"
"Sometimes just mundane methods are not enough so I use the old fashioned way. No wish is impossible with me around."
"You know, I wish *I* had a teacher like that..."
"Your wish is my command, young master..."
|
"Sir, a group of people are here to see you. And they are really messed up. I mean really really messed up."
-"Okay Nadia, Tell them to come in."
When the crowd enter the office the usually serious genie bursts into laughter:
"Omg, what happened to you people?"
"Are you the wrong wish reversal expert?"
A young man asked. There was a huge ball and chain hanging from his pants.
"Yes, I am Dr Makool. A genie with 500 years of experience in bad wishing practice. Tell me what happened!"
"We were fooled by one of your kind. We need our wishes reversed."
"No no no, didn't you learn anything? Never wish for the opposite. It does not gonna work well. What you want is a simple wish removal. "
"Okay. You are the expert."
"What did you wish for?"
The man is past being ashamed:
"I wished for a bigger junk. And this is what the bastard gave me. And eternal fucking ball and chain hanging from it."
Makool tried his best to remain serious. Only one genie would do such a thing.
"And the rest of you?"
A young boy came forward:
"I wished for knowledge and that piece of shit installed wikipedia inside my brain. Anything I here there is a link pooping up. I am fucking tired of reading. Please help me."
Makool:
"Well, reading does not hurt (the boy is giving him deadeyes) ...but too much of anything can be bad. What he did was not decent. And you madam?"
"I wished to be young again!"
"And he did?"
"No. That insolent thing told me he just can't do it. He gave me back my money and apologized!"
"Well my friends. Sadly I can't help you."
The crowd went mad.
"Why? Why can't you?"
"Because he did not grant your wishes. He just gave you the reality."
|
LegendaryNbody
|
Successful_Craft3076
|
2023-05-14 20:02:29
|
2023-05-14 19:29:03
| 60 | 31 |
jk5ljzu
|
jk5h07t
|
13hdlx4
|
13hdlx4
|
[WP] 30 years from today, an animal rights organization has developed a scanner which reproduces the animal’s circumstances of death upon scanning its meat. You decide to scan a cheeseburger for fun. You hear not a cow, but someone screaming desperately for help.
|
"Did I honour you and your family my Fortitude!?"
My petit love lies badly injured on a stretcher in the healers cave. It's no longer a cave, but quite a nice modern hospital. A gift from betrothed's kind. To bring "peace and unity" between species.
**"You always call me such sweet things my Mender. It is... odd to see you on this side of the Healer's Cave. Normally you are the one patching me up. They have done an adequate job in repairing you. Though they lack your finnesse and precision.
Today you were a great warrior. That you live, has shown me the greatest honour. The true depth of your devotion to me. It was an incredibly attractive display. I look forward to your full return of health, so I can show my complete appreciation.My brothers are saying they beat you with the usual 'playful' attacks of this display, so as not to kill a weaker species. They know I am stronger and would have avenged you in a heart beat if they had killed you. I still can? You look more injured than Mog lead me to believe. She does not understand you're physiology like you do ours. Perhaps, when we visit your family, for your pre marriage rituals, you can see a human doctor?"**
~cough~ "You worry too much Borba. I'm ~cough cough~ fine. I just need a little rest."
**"You're so fragile Patrick the healer. I often fear I would break you in the private hibernation chambers."**
"Thank you for not breaking me. I appreciate it. Speaking of human customs before a wedding, we agreed I would do your trials your way, and you would follow mine. How are your preparations going?"
**"I have met your parents. I have prepared to meet your extended family. You have three sisters, Mary, Elizabeth, and Rose. You have one brother, John. Not warriors. Not healers like you. Your sisters and our mothers go and choose the attire for your wedding. That is very strange. To purchase a special outfit to wear to the hallowed grounds only to remove them for the ceremony."**
"No Bor, two ceremonies to unite us in marriage. Mine, you keep the clothes on. Yours...we go in bare, to show we are not hiding anything in marriage. We have no secrets, no weapons, all... revealed to each other. It's just us right? And Luthic the godess."
**"My family must witness it. You cannot hide your true self from them. They will be bare too."**
"Oh.... what if I don't... measure up to them?" He looked towards his connection piece.
**"Male humans pride themselves on the size of their 'connection piece', correct?"**
"I mean... a little...I guess"
**"Then you have no issues. I have told all my family that human males measure their genitalia to find the best male to mate with the females. Orcs have little in that area. Purely functional amounts. Not built for pleasure, like you. Does that ease your mind?"**
He looked buoyed by the assertion that he had the biggest connection piece.
"Really? You think I'm built for pleasure?"
**"Yes, of course. Why do you think I chose you? You will make a strong mate. An ideal, if unorthodox, choice. Today you have proved your worthiness to my family. Must I fight your sisters all together or one at a time?"**
"No fighting anyone in my family Borba! Walking, dancing, dining with cutlery"
**"What of the bouquets toss? Is that like the caber toss?"**
"No. It's just a bunch of flowers. But there will be cake. Remember how much you liked cake?"
**"I was looking forward to the caber toss..." I say sadly " .. I do like cake"**
"I have a surprise for you at my part of the wedding. No caber toss, but it does involve boulders." He said with a wink.
**"Oh my sweet fragile mender. I love you Patrick the Healer."**
"And I love you my fortress of strength, Borba the great warrior."
|
I am Olga, orc woman from the Celibate clan. I was raised strong on the grains and oxen that cover the hills of Onan, by the creed of my bloodline, passed me by the maternal uncle who lasted the great war, where my parents could not. Though they did instil in me their courage, and sonorous, oft baritone singing voice, and the fibres that constitute these muscles making deadly what weapon I so choose to wield.
But dreams of the opera, of theatre, were forever forestalled, when at sun’s crest that morning I saw his steed in silhouette. A broad shouldered body hunched, wavering. All but broken, carried here by delicate canter—a fine horse in love with its master, journeyed untold leagues, to me, Olga, that I might be the healing hand it searched for.
But when it neared, and saw me close, it raised high on its hinds and cast its master backwards to the dirt. For I am also quite hideous. And for that I was not offended. If anything, I was pleased.
For we orcs are proud of our hideousness. Much pride is drawn from the swelling of a new facial wart—one growth per year, usually—and indeed, I was the most celebrated of any orc born the past century.
Except for Margaret, who had the cosmetics done.
To hell with Margaret.
And to my new heaven came George, laying half-dead in the dust of his steed then absconded. His ribs and clavicle and left elbow broken, mind semi-conscious, mouth bare able to utter the faintest of gasps as he glanced my way. I loved him immediately.
He never fully recovered his mental faculties after that. Paralysed, but alive—and poorly endowed—he was the worst of all conceivable lovers. Which was fulfilling of the most erotic orcan dream. He didn’t even register what was going on before the ceremony.
And so before our union, when informed of our tradition, his drooling that had become his chief form of communication stuttered and waxed panicked in protest. His quadriplegia rendered him wheelbarrow-bound and incapable of combat, a fact not lost on his vegetative state-of-mind.
Go anyway, I said, lovingly. My brothers are weak shit bastards and you’re still twice the man of them all put together.
“Uurrghslp,” he replied, just as lovingly.
It was settled. With the aid of the barrow bearer Haggærd he departed the next morning into the same sun that carried him here.
His protesting had been pointless as it turned out. For the next forty years he systematically defeated each of his foe with such ease that the story came back codified in legend. The Drooling Demon he was known, and with each conquest his stature rose and drove fear into the heart of his next.
How he won these apparently chaotic melees is still a source of debate and equally mysterious inquiry, but it was no doubt something to do with the motion-detecting automatic rifle I had affixed to his chest. A technology still in its nascency at the time and so from the perspective of archaic minds it was natural to his foreign, angelic physiognomy, and still well keeping with the standard code of practice. Suckers.
We got married, and in the heats of our passion that night, with poor estimation of my grip-strength relative to his tenuous human frame, I broke his clavicle a second time and crushed his every notion of ecstasy.
At least, I think so. Hard to know what the hell he’s saying half the time.
|
IlikethequietZeppo
|
VanillaBest4580
|
2024-01-04 12:44:13
|
2024-01-04 11:54:07
| 404 | 85 |
kg9rvw3
| null |
18y9dol
|
bbhgrv
|
[WP] You’re a scientist stuck in an Russian Artic research station. You’ve just killed your only colleague because the mysterious figures hidden in the snowstorm told you to do it.
|
As I step out of the cab, I note the hero lying on the ground. Its Indomitable, he's barely breathing. For a hero capable of taking tank rounds to the face and barely flinch, this Villain is clearly a cut above the others.
"You're finally here. The final piece to let us, the League of Death, to take over this city. I kill you, and the hero's best mode of transport goes down." The villain narrates his plan. Why do villains do this? I raise a eyebrow trying to figure this guy out. He's clearly a new bad guy, masked, huge glowing tattoos all over him. I ask calmly "So, you're new here, what should I call you? Mr... Druid? By the way, you're paying the taxi fare."
At this point Indomitable stirs, groaning "run... you... can't... win"
The villain kicks him and roars "I AM A GOD! ONE THAT YOU NEED NO KNOW THE NAME OF!" pointing at me "besides, you're about to be dead anyway"
I sigh. "yes, yes, you're a undefeatable god, and I'm just John. Nice to meet you. Will that be cash or credit?"
At this point, the villain starts walking at me, clearly enraged by my calm nature.
I start walking toward him too "By all means I should be terrified, Indomitable is number one after all. But you see... Indomitable wasn't speaking to me. He was speaking to you."
The villain laughs "Me? what can you do, Mister John? You some kind of secret hero?"
I continue my walk toward him "Retired actually. You know, there's a reason why nobody has thought of taking out my taxi company. You league of whatever guys really need to do your research."
As the villain swings a punch at my head I cock back a punch myself aiming for his abdomen.
Dust flies everywhere as the punches collide with their targets.
A crackle from a fallen walkie talkie is heard.
"Boss? Are you there? Boss! ABORT MISSION! The owner of the Herocab is John Apocalypse! The one that stopped the demon realm's invasion by himself 20 years ago! He's killed a demon god!"
I look at the Villain, with a huge hole where his stomach was, whispering "Well now. It's a little late for doing that research don't you think?"
As he collapses, I walk to Indomitable. "Hey bud, hanging in there? I can get you to the hospital, but as per policy, I have to ask, do you want me to bring Mr "God" over there with?"
Indomitable painfully manages out a sentence "yeah... take him with us... he's gotta pay... for the call anyway"
"Oh, you're right! As per policy, the caller pays! Smart man, I get to double the fee too! Righto, let's get everyone patched up"
|
I arrived at the scene of the call, and know immediately this is not going to be a normal job. It looks like a tornado went through here; metals are twisted around, there's scorched marks everywhere, deep gouges on the concretes. And there at the middle, the Hero Prometheus is lying on the ground with blood pooling around him, whist the Villain Scarlett is standing over him, with the hero's phone in her shaking hand.
After calming down Scarlett, she started to explained what happened while I check up on Prometheus and giving first aid. She was escaping from a bank heist nearby when Prometheus intercept her and they start battling, pretty standard stuff. But then Prometheus start acting weird, twitching and muttering incoherently. Then he start screaming and started to destroy everything in the vicinity before passing out. Not knowing what to do and scared out of her mind, Scarlett rummaged around Prometheus's belonging and found his phone and called me. Thank heaven Prometheus saved my contact as Herocab, as per the Guardian guideline.
I sighed tiredly, another victim then...With Scarlett help, we loaded up Prometheus into the cab. After making sure Scarlett is okay and find her way home safely, I got in the cab and start driving away. I called a secret number and told them to prepare for another victim of the drug.
As I make my way through hidden paths and groves, I look back at Prometheus and the occasional light from outside just further emphasize how badly injured he is. I've been getting more and more call like this these past several months. and everyone of them weighs heavily on me.
This all started half a years ago when the Hero Zeus suddenly became active again. Considering he's a senior citizen way past his prime by several decades, the heroes community flocked to him to figured out his secret. I mean, he went from this frail old man stuck on a wheelchair and unable to even clean himself without help, into this six feet tall Adonis with bulging muscles and a full hair to boot. Heck, he's even more muscular and powerful now than when he was at his prime! But no matter how everyone pestered him, Zeus just laugh and kept his secret. Until that fateful day..
|
Radon220
|
kekubuk
|
2023-04-28 03:54:16
|
2023-04-28 02:31:19
| 54 | 22 | null |
ji06qba
|
13133v7
|
13133v7
|
[WP] Many young wizards have taken to transmuting swans into humans and marrying them. One day, you are lucky enough to find a swan in the wild, and without hesitating, you turn it into a beautiful lady. Unfortunately, that ‘swan’, was a goose. You have just given a goose a human form.
|
It makes a lot of sense, when you run the numbers. *Marrying a swan,* I mean.
Swans are wise, strong, beautiful, and firmly monogamous. What more could you ask for in a mate? You could ask that your mate also be *human,* of course, and you'd not be wrong for insisting upon this. However, I think you'll find it's much easier to locate an ordinary swan, and then use powerful magic to transmogrify them into a human, than it is to find one of the extraordinary humans who possesses all of those desirable swan-like qualities.
I decided to do just that -- transform a swan into my bride, that is -- on the day I turned forty-five. I was, of course, quite young to be settling down, for a wizard. But I've seen those archmagi who married late in life, doddering about and wheezing at a hundred and fifteen, trying to keep up with a with a gaggle of energetic magelings underfoot, and being all but incapable of picking up even the smallest of them without the aid of a levitation spell. I should rather like, I decided, to be able to teach my own children how to throw a ball -- both the mundane and incendiary varieties -- without need of a bone-knitting potion to repair my splintered spine immediately thereafter.
Unlike my peers, who tend to marry only when they're much older and have judged themselves to be close enough to death that it won't matter overmuch if it goes horribly wrong, I technically had time for a more conventional courtship. Still, I'm a busy wizard, and faced with a choice between spending months down in the city faffing about with indecisive society ladies and blushing debutantes, or a pleasant afternoon down by the pond with a large net, I naturally chose the latter.
That very evening, I returned to my tower with a magically sedated young swan cozily bundled up in my travelling cloak, and placed the graceful creature inside the complex transmutation circle I'd previously prepared, to begin the ritual that would turn her into a human woman.
An hour of intensive spellwork later, the magic took hold on her, and the swan became a slender, gracefully beautiful woman, with alabaster skin and platinum blonde hair that recalled her former white plumage. She slowly stood to her feet, unabashed by her nakedness, examining her new form with childlike wonder.
Speaking of which, some of you may be aghast at the idea that I would take advantage of a creature newly born as a human, but you are doubtless unaware of the manner in which such magic functions. She was a young adult bird, and therefore would become a young adult *woman,* with all the normal mental faculties thereof.
As to why I was nonetheless confident that she would become my bride, despite having only just met me, the answer to that is simple: female swans pragmatically select their mates based on their fitness to help care for their eventual offspring. As a man of plentiful means, both arcane and monetary, I am more than capable of providing for a family. More importantly, I knew how to do the funny little dance that male swans do, ostensibly to demonstrate that they possess such capability.
However, before I had even completed the preamble to the courtship dance, she rushed forward and embraced me tightly.
"Thank you," she whispered, fiercely. "Thank you so much. I hate the world, and everything in it, but you...you I hate *least."*
"I beg your pardon?" I responded, uneasily.
"I despise existence itself. I loathe the world." she elaborated. "I eat only so that I may fill my bowels with reeking offal, and then empty them upon the face of this accursed sphere, and I breed only so that when I am dead, my offspring can rip and tear and hiss at the foul midden heap called life in my stead."
Ah. That explained it. That distinctive loathing for all that is good in the world, along with the desire to despoil or destroy everything she saw, left only one possibility open: I had mistakenly transfigured a *goose.* A snow goose, likely, or perhaps a *coscoroba swan,* which despite its name, is also a type of goose.
Geese of whatever species, of course, are the most hateful of all living things. The only exception is domestic geese, which through eons of careful selective breeding have been rendered merely *disagreeable,* instead of murderously psychotic like their wild kin.
I became increasingly horrified as the woman I'd hoped to marry continued expressing her effusive gratitude for my grave mistake. "I have always been frustratingly limited in my ability to exact vengeance on the world for the unspeakable crime of existing, but you...you have changed all that. Now I have these clever fingers for gouging eyes, wringing necks, and lighting fires, and a mouth full of hard teeth for the ripping out of throats..."
She kissed me passionately, which was a quite pleasant experience, in spite of everything. When she finally broke the kiss, she touched my cheek tenderly.
"Bless you, you wonderful, vile, loathsome creature." she said softly, looking into my eyes. "I will destroy all things. But you, dear one, I will kill last of all. Farewell."
And then, unwilling to delay her reign of terror for a single second more, she broke our embrace and leaped through the tower window, taking to the sky...
...for about six seconds, after which she slammed into the rocky ground at the base of my tower and splattered her malicious brains all over the stone like a wineskin full of jam hurled at a brick wall by a trebuchet. Luckily, while they excel above all other beings in hate and ill-will, geese are not *quite* the match of swans, in wisdom and intelligence.
I sighed, heavily, as I looked down at the broken form of my "swan" princess, and then up at the position of the sun, which was just beginning to set. It was too late to go back to the pond, so I decided I'd wait until the next day to try again. Or perhaps the day after that.
That would give me time to go to the bookseller in the city, and pick up a newer edition of Waverly's Guide to Waterfowl, which hopefully would include better illustrations.
|
Being a wizard wasn’t my first choice, nor technically even my third, but it was something that I turned out to be pretty good at. I wanted to be a doctor. I studied hard, learned the magic to augment my natural skills, and presented my findings with certainty that only the naivety of youth could. Well, that and narcissists, but we won’t get into that.
Anyway, that all went sideways when I was working on a burn patient, 3rd degree on about 70% of his body, and I just had a moment where I thought I could fix this. Him. I mean, I did, technically, much to the horror of my mentor and the nursing staff. Thankfully, the pain of reconfiguring his flesh knocked the patient out quickly. So, in the end, the patient was happy, if not a bit traumatised. I considered it successful. Only one supervisor, though, seemed interested in further study of my technique.
Wizards, I learned at about that moment, didn’t have the same ethical standards that doctors did. The wizard, Dr. Matherson, was quite impressed at how I could put aside my empathy for my patient and do what was necessary. I mean, I hadn’t. I literally just didn’t think about what it would be like to have all his burned flesh suddenly vaporised and then regrown in a more flexible way. Feasible? I should say natural, as scar tissue doesn’t behave like normal skin even in ideal conditions but if you have enough of it then it will suffice. I never did admit that to him.
We worked hard together afterwards to change how a lot of cosmetic surgeries were done. Much more anaesthetic was used in the subsequent trials and I was recognised by the College for my contributions quickly afterwards. The only money I got was from the patents I filled but that was slowly growing so, all in all, I’m pretty happy.
Why did I tell you that? Well, it’s so that you understand where I’m coming from when I say that I find my colleagues' purely selfish interest in transmuting swans into attractive companions abhorrent. The creatures are not only disfigured but their brain chemistry and structure are completely redone. There is no consent. Even afterwards, with what has been done to them, could consent even be established? My thought would be no, but I wanted proof.
So I found a swan.
I think.
I have never seen a swan, so I found a bird that could float and had a long neck, I did the whole transmuting thing, and you can see how well that worked behind me. He’s okay, he wasn’t in any pain when he first turned but he has a bit of a tempor. Possibly some anger issues. Actually, he has a lot of anger issues and is pretty protective of… I haven’t really figured that out yet.
—-
The hall went quiet as I finished my rambling explanation, and we all turned to look at the human, bleeding and hissing as he fought with the chains he was bound to at the back of the room. He was tall and rather heavy-set. His head and neck were almost charcoal black, but his body was anywhere from a pale white to a deep brown. Finally, he looked like he skipped every leg day at the gym.
In trying to get him to come back to the campus, the man had picked a fight with a statue, a mound of dirt, the edge of the walking path, every single person we passed by, a lone fence post, two of the panels to the fence that the fence post would eventually be connected to, and a door. It wasn’t any of the doors that we walked through. Just one of the many doors we walked by.
“Release me!” the man screamed, hissing and spitting at those around him.
“I wouldn’t recommend it,” I said quietly and showed them the bite marks on my arm, “For something that is supposed to be graceful and gentle, he doesn’t really understand what your trying to do if you get close to him.”
“That would be because,” the normally reserved and stern Dean of Psychic Abstraction said in an exhausted tone as two more guards rushed past her, “That is a goose.”
“What's the difference?” I asked. I glanced at the man again and added, “You know, other than not being elegant or albino?”
“Well, they have a different sort of attitude,” the Dean of Congregation explained, “They are typically used to house demons because it’s difficult to tell them apart at the best of times.”
“Why would you use them then?”
“The idea is,” the Dean only glanced at me for a second and then back at my abomination, “Their threat level is respected at all times, even if they aren’t carriers.”
“Okay,” I said with a nod, “So, about what I did then?”
“Giving a demon a human body isn’t something any of us would recommend,” the Dean of Transmutation confirmed, “I doubt this creature was a carrier as, well, he would have probably done something actually dangerous by now.”
“Has he done anything other than hurt himself?”
“Flirt with a handful of people, the statue of Mara out in the front entrance, and the tree all the frat boys make jokes about,” I listed off quickly, “He then drank out of the fountain and ate one of the koi fish whole.”
“Okay,” one of them muttered as I watched the creature stare daggers at a chair near him, “What did you name him? We should probably see if we can change him back.”
“Well,” I groaned before turning around and admitting, “I didn’t at first; however, at one point, he tried reading a book, and it just sort of popped into my mind.”
“And it is?”
“Gaswan,” I quietly stated.
“Be in my office in twenty minutes,” the Dean of Psychic Abstraction demanded before pulling out her Grimoire and walking by me, “I’ll deal with this and then with you.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” I whispered back before walking past the other two Deans, just staring wide-eyed at the creature I had brought into the campus common room.
—-
Edit: Geswan to Gaswan because Gaston has an a in it. I should have double checked that before posting.
|
SilasCrane
|
asolitarycandle
|
2023-02-13 22:21:39
|
2023-02-13 19:47:05
| 158 | 89 |
j8ff1gl
|
j8er5n0
|
1114zr3
|
1114zr3
|
[WP] Destroying 90% human population on earth, the aliens leave, assuming that society would crumble, and remaining 10% will just all fight for resources and eventually die out. They returned a thousand years later, expecting a cleansed planet, but were met with a nuclear strike from a satellite.
|
Life without death loses all meaning.
I didn't understand that as a child. Nor as a teenager, even whilst reluctantly learning about each of the previous extinction-level events that challenged life on earth--not only humanity--to overcome.
Long before the end of Ordovician over 440 million years ago, evolution of life had taken root, and would not be denied. The constant steam of neutrinos from deep in the cosmos disrupted our great ancestor's DNA rapidly enough to ensure that *some* branches of life would carry on no matter what happened.
That first extinction event culled the first wave of weakness from the greater gene pool, allowing only the strongest 14% to persist. Despite their numbers being reduced to a breaking point, these leftover species quickly claimed the planet.
This second iteration of life on Earth spread across the globe for the next 70 million years, until the next great filter ripped away another languishing layer of obsolescence. Only the strongest 25% of *them* would move life forward.
Another refined generation was called to duty, to push forward and grow and adapt to a hostile, evolving planet, and it did so marvelously for another 120 million years before they, too, were reduced to the few who could withstand what came for them. This time though, life would be reduced to 4%. The strongest of the strongest chosen to carry on earth's legacy.
Their reign would be over after 30 million years, as the planet would claim 80%. Life, though, would stubbornly persist yet again, as it was designed, destined, FORGED to do.
A new, *extremely* powerful generation of life would *dominate* the planet for 135 million years until about 65 million years ago when an asteroid would hammer the final nail into the coffin of a generation that had already been losing steam. As if mother nature wasn't satisfied, as if the universe had been raising the children of Earth to become warriors, it created almost impossible conditions for life to survive.
But it did. Albeit, 24%. We, humans I mean, by far the most dominant species to ever walk the planet evolved from *this* 24%.
The aliens who decided to kill 90% of *us* -- *clearly* didn't do their research.
We are the strongest 10%, of the strongest 24%, of the strongest 20%, of the strongest 4%, of the strongest 25% of the strongest 14% of life on a planet that just so happens to have trained us to take ANYTHING this universe can throw at us and thrive anyway.
And we are pissed off.
|
*Report of Incident in the Establishment of Mining Operations in the Sol System, Galaxy 3B*, by Zygax Andromeda Mining Corporation Sector 14 Commissioner Ha'xlan - translated from Andromeda Galactic Common to General Sapient by Zygax Assistant Scribe Pxyri
--------------
I petitioned the Intergalactic Court Sector 14 Resources Court Judge, Ixthar Madren, on Myn 43298, Jogg 9 for Zygax mining rights in the Sol System, paying the establishment fee of 40,000 galactic credits, as well as abiding by Intergalactic Mining Code Section 38, regarding taxation to both sector and Andromedan governments.
On Jogg 12, clearance to begin mining operations was authorized by Judge Madren, and our initial scans 2 Jogg later revealed a class B primitive civilization on Sol III, as well as various forms of microbial life on the moons of Sol VI. Our scans estimated a very large deposit of lightsteel (Protons: 13) on Sol III, worth an estimated 243 million Andromedan Credits, and a significant deposit of Lantrium (Protons: 154) on Sol I, worth an estimated 45 million Andromedan Credits.
I authorized a cleansing vessel to deliver a course of Gamma Radio Cleanse to Sol III, to allow for the safe landing of our mining cruisers. The cleansing vessel noted a handful of primitive orbiting satellites around Sol III, but cleansing occurred without incident.
13 Jogg later, as I sent our first mining cruiser to Sol III, resistance by the Sol III inhabitants was noted by Commander Lop'Zek of the aforementioned cruiser. My cruiser sustained moderate hull damage from primitive fissile and fusile weaponry, fired from satellites recently installed, as well as from the ground of Sol III itself. Repairs for the ship totalled 231,498 credits, and two of our crew members were severely injured.
Following this incident, I am authorizing 17 cleansing vessels to be dispatched to Sol III to eradicate all resistance to Zygax mining operations. The resources gained from the Sol System should assist in fueling the shipyards of Andromeda for many Myn to come, as well as returning a handsome profit for Sector 14 operations.
Ha'xlan, Zygax Mining Commissioner - Sector 14
|
SlowCrates
|
Jack_Bleesus
|
2023-03-26 21:55:30
|
2023-03-26 17:58:16
| 32 | 18 | null |
jdrra1m
|
122d3v5
|
122d3v5
|
[WP] you were bitten, you know your time is counted. So as a final act you decided drink all the booze and beer you collected until you passed out. The next morning you wake up with a headache but...still human
|
"I doubt it's a cure," our doctor said. "Since you started pouring back nearly half our liquor ten minutes after you got back from scavenging, nearly dying of alcohol poisoning may have disinfected your entire body in the worst way possible. Frankly, you are lucky everyone here is happier that you are getting better than angry that all we have left is that moonshine Pat makes." After some chuckling he left me alone back in my broom closet of a quarantine room.
We had moved into a giant deserted steel mill. After all it seemed like a defendable place outside of an urban centre with no one on premises. It was big and empty at first, but slowly filled up with a good number of people and their personal projects (after all, we were looking for people who knew how to make/grow things). You had Pat; a homebrewer who clearly liked not remembering things, Ella; someone who blacksmithed as a hobby and a decent mechanic, and T; who knew how hydroponics worked and taught 30 others in order to produce our food on a large scale. There were at least a dozen others who knew this and that as well. I was welcomed because I fixed a fellow scavenger's bicycle, but I did more guard duty and "shopping trips" than bike repair.
If you did not have what was considered an "essential skill," you were put on the chore schedule, cooking, organizing, clothes washing, guarding, or guard duty among other things. Needless to say I got bit during my three day outing looking for rubber hoses and glass bottles for Pat. I brought everything back (including a lot of full ones from an un-smashed crate in a bar house store room.) and set them down in the fenced off crevice Pat used as a storeroom. Then realizing my mortality I took the keg tap from its peg it was hung on and began pouring from the kegs labeled "Negan's microbrew", and then everything else.
When I came to I was feeling like shit in a room who's one little window was far too bright. With a note on the door saying "try to rest I'll be back for your bedpan later.", also, there was a chain attached to a collar around my neck, locked to a remnant of a shelf bolted to the floor.Whether It was for the hangover or the zombie bite I felt like shit, I thought I might have gotten better by the end of the day but I honestly was not sure. By day three our doctor had unlocked the collar, but forbade my going out because I was "in trouble for drinking all the booze".
I never thought my biggest frustration in the apocalypse would be getting grounded.
|
*Shit.*
There wasn't much else I could say, really. I'd been bitten. And that meant I was screwed. My life; the sum of all the memories and experiences that made me who I was.... were going to fade away like they never even existed.
And with how fucked the world was now, wasn't that indeed the case?
Heh. It was funny.
Every other survivor I've met saw me as a heartless, unfeeling son of a bitch; a machine who just trucked on regardless of what anyone else felt. They weren't too far off, to be honest. The world had no place for kindness or empathy....
And yet.
*I.... just wanted to live.*
Well.... nothing I can do about it now but drink.
And drink I did.
I took a long swig straight from my half-full bottle of whiskey.
It was my last one.
Not that it would matter. My time was almost up so it wasn't like there was any point in leaving my booze behind.
I couldn't feel my arm anymore. The bite had torn through my forearm and nearly reached the bone. It was a miracle that I made it out with just that. Shriekers were vicious bastards, especially smelled blood.
I've seen what tends to happen when a group of them catches up to an unlucky survivor.
It wasn't pretty.
I'd wrapped the wound as best I could with one working arm. Even if I was gonna die here, I wasn't going out looking more like a corpse than I had to.
I chugged the remains of the whiskey and sighed as it burned going down.
Well.... this is it.
Goodbye, world.
You cold-hearted bitch.
--------------------
I was awakened by the cry of a crow that had somehow gotten through the boarded-up windows.
My eyes were slow to open but open they did.
.... What the hell?
I was.... alive. How was I alive?
I remember being bit. I remember the pain. Hell, I even remember shoving my fingers through the bastard's rotting skull.
The brain was soft, but its eye socket felt worse than rubbing sandpaper. But that pain was absolutely *nothing* compared to being bit.
Confusion was the first thing that came to mind but.... no, that word didn't do justice to what I was feeling right now.
I was shocked. Bewildered. Flabbergasted.
But most of all....
I was relieved.
|
-___-_-___-_-_
|
Abradolph_Linc
|
2023-01-23 04:36:57
|
2023-01-23 04:09:17
| 129 | 24 |
j5i9rlr
|
j5i6kpi
|
10iw46i
|
10iw46i
|
[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.
|
To say it was wild was to put it mildly.
It had been like the world clicked and people just... changed. If it was someone you knew, you still knew them even though their whole self was entirely different. They didn't look like how you remembered them a lot of the time, but you knew. Some friendship grew stronger, some were ruined.
It was nice to see trans individuals suddenly just *have* what they had been fighting so hard for. Hard for their enemies to argue who they were now when it had been made clear. That's who they *are.* Suddenly it didn't matter if it was all in their head or "just a phase for attention" or any of the other dumb soundbites. Heck, the detractors couldn't even complain about "doctors mutilating children" cause it wasn't going to happen now. Just gender euphoria for everyone, even the ones who came out on the uglier side cause hey, there are assholes in every group.
The amount of people in middle and upper management who were suddenly two-faced was... well, it wasn't really surprising, when we all thought about it. We'd always kind of known, hadn't we?
A few news crew caught some politicians and absolutely they were spineless and slimy. That was a fun 'I told you so' moment. And a bit depressing when it was someone you'd wanted to believe in.
I thought about everything in my life before looking in the mirror that day. I thought about the times I'd lied or stolen, how I hadn't finished school. How I had been job hopping. How I'd supported others without question. How I'd volunteed. How I'd given back.
And I wondered, how would I be judged? Was I more good or more bad? When my heart was weighed against this physical feather, where had I ended up?
But I looked, there was something strange. And then I realized. My hair was slowly changing color, my eyes too. My skin lightening and tanning, freckled one minute and bare the next. My nose subtly shifting in height and shape. I was growing and shrinking, only by a few inches, nothing extreme. But I was completely in flux.
I was not yet done. My fate not yet decided.
So what to do with that knowledge. Are you like me?
|
The Changing is what the mortals call it.
I was doing some recon work for the lord of my realm, gathering information as to how best to convert the majority to worshipping him. A nice little loophole, finding worlds with no magical barriers keeping our kind from directly influencing and being among them.
But that matters not.
I woke that morning to everything seeming normal. To be fair, though, I did not go outside. I had a tea appointment with a member of the local clergy of these mortals' main god. I had to thoroughly clean the steeping pot and decanter from my own tea the night before. Nightshade and deathbelle, while delicious when delicately boiled, tend to be poisonous to most mortals. All, really, now that I'm thinking about it.
The time for tea came, as did the knock on the door. I was not prepared for the hideous creature that stood on the other side.
"Father Henry, you look, ah, more hedious than normal," I tilted my head slightly to the left. "Are you having an allergic reaction?"
The man looked shocked. "No, no! Everyone has changed, we don't know why. Not even the Heretical Scientists have an answer! But you are unchanged..."
I let him in, and brewed him a lovely mix of chamomile, lavender, and cinnamon tea. Father Henry continued to look at me warily.
"You are unchanged, how can that be?" he kept muttering it to himself over and over again.
I may have put some wormwood in the mix. Oops.
He gladly drank the tea, and started spouting nonsense.
Godly nonsense.
For the first time that day, I glanced at my mirror. I had not changed in look at all.
This is the influence of a different god. Not mine.
This world has been compromised, and unworthy of my lord.
Time for a new world to convert. The Darkness has taken this one.
The reflection told me so.
|
silverletomi
|
RosenrotEis
|
2023-02-23 08:04:12
|
2023-02-23 07:32:20
| 37 | 17 |
j9nsdww
|
j9npwgt
|
119gjg2
|
119gjg2
|
[WP] Your job description: 1) Sit in an empty room with a red button for 8 hours a day. 2) NEVER press the red button, no matter what happens. 3) Do not talk to anyone about the job. After many uneventful years, your phone rings and a stern, slightly panicked voice says: „Press the button. NOW!!“
|
"You got it!"
*click*
Nothing happened.
"Aww well." I sighed "Guess I'm fired now huh?"
"Wait you actually pushed the button?" The distorted voice on the other side of the line asked "You broke the ONE rule we told you not to break?"
"Yeah pretty much..." I paused and continued. In for a penny. "Well no. I broke all the other rules too. I dont sit in front of the button all day either. Its bad for your health. I stand up and walk around to stretch my legs sometimes.".
"Well the sitting part is just a figure of speech. We wouldnt have fired you for that.
"Well good because I was ready to report you to OSHA if you did. But thats not all. I talk about the job all the time. Made a post on r/writingprompts last month to gauge how people would feel about it. Most people leant towards not pushing it so I kinda explored all those possibilities in my imaginaton. Not enough pushing it responses though, so here I am to sate my curiostiy."
I paused for a reaction. Nothing. So I continued to ramble as was my nature.
"I'm surprised I havent been fired already. I figured a mysterious employer that could afford to pay me a generous wage for doing nothing would have a much more extensive surveilance network. I'll be disapointed if I find out I've been keeping my choices in porn tame all these years for no reason."
"I dont understand. Why are you being so honest?" Asked the voice on the other end of the line "Why did you push the button? Why after all these years of discipline you crack immediately with no resistance?"
"Well I'm not very good at lying. If im going to be fired anyway I might as well lay it all out. As for the button, the boredom for one. I got a good amount of savings so that should hold me until I find another job. But i figured the day would come that I be tested. And either they would be looking for obedient drones or something else. I know myself. I could never thrive in a position where I had to obey orders and do nothing else. So I decided to stay true to who I am. I have no way to gauge what criteria you are trying to measure so one answer was as good as any button pushing-wise."
"Werent you worried it might launch a nuke and kill millions or open a portal to hell or something?" queried the voice.
"Yea or it might release a cure for the common cold into the atmosphere and disarm all nuclear weapons. What can I say? I'm a gambler. And a bad one."
After a pause the voice responded "One moment please." Followed by silence.
A minute passed I decided to push the button a few more times in case this was part of the test.
TBC?
|
I was hired here for security and to watch this big red button for 8 hours a day. I was never told what the button does or what it's purpose was but only that it was critical that I not press it nor anyone else. Sure, I was curious about it as much as the next guy but I specifically remember the strict tone of my superior's voice indicating it was important that I followed orders. I did that for several years and nothing ever happened, until one day my superior rang my phone and said "Press the button NOW!!"
"But what about your previous orders?" I asked.
"There's no time to explain just push it NOW!!" he barked back in an angry and panicked voice over the phone.
I remained unsure of the consequences of my actions but he seemed to be afraid of something so I pressed the button. I had been curious about what this button does but I was hoping to not find out this way. Well, as I'm writing to you after the fact, I found out that it's a nuclear missile launch button and my decision to press it is likely going to bring Armageddon. I have so many questions. Why did they hire me of all people to just sit in this room alone for 8 hours a day for the past several years? I thought I was signing up for a more typical security position which I enjoy doing and have had plenty of experience. It paid well so I never quit but looking back, I wish I did. My decision to press the nuke button is inevitably going to lead to a nuclear war with millions of casualties and I feel sick to my stomach. I just hope my wife and daughter are safe. I'm scared that I might never see them again.
If you're reading this Amy, you're the love of my life and I hope you will remember me for the love I provided to you and Grace. I want you both to evacuate as soon as you can to another country that's not involved in the upcoming war. I don't know the answers for certain but I do know that South America and Africa are not very involved in American/European/Asian geopolitics. Just get to safety. I don't even know if I'm safe but don't wait for me. I'll follow you if I'm able to. I love you both very much and I hope you will forgive me for my actions.
|
WantDiscussion
|
PkmnTrnr00
|
2023-01-03 05:18:15
|
2023-01-02 21:40:11
| 24 | 14 |
j2qes97
|
j2oltwm
|
101bwam
|
101bwam
|
[WP] "They only ever use a single spell in combat" "Yea but theyre REALLY good at that one spell"
|
Holding a scroll in his hand, Great Denios, one of the wizards from Human Resources Tower asks his fellow members. The crystal ball in front of him shows a young face, full of determination to prove themself.
"Let's see. Two years of experience in Alchemy in That Potion Works, and another two in Charming in Loving Toad, not bad. Not bad at all. Loving Toad is very picky in choosing their employee, after all." Stroking the long and unkempt beard under his chin, Denios goes through the CV scroll carefully. He is old, but two hundred years is not enough for one to become senile just yet.
"It's great that Magifictial Intelligence finds such a good CV amongst a thousand. Wizardry nowadays is just so convenient." He mumbles to himself. "We've got another young Charmer. These guys are hard to come by."
"Well...Great Denios... This young wizard is certainly very promising if they join our production tower, but they are actually submitting their CV scroll for the combat tower." A fellow wizard on his side explains. "But he has only one combat spell. And his quote is: I fear a wizard who cast only one spell a thousand times, rather than a wizard who knows how to cast a thousand spells."
"Brucism? That's even better! I like this kid already. Unlike us Explodists, the younger generation of Centurians needs to study everything in school. I already told those bastards at the Education Bureau want to create an army of incompetency. But they just don't care." A smile appears on Denios' wrinkled face. Followed by a frown after thinking of his most recent debate in the Capital.
"And what kind of spell are we talking about? Firestorm? Blizzard? Something with more destructive capability or something with more crowd-control elements to it?" Pushing his beef with the Education Bureau aside, Denios continues.
"It's Slip, sir. Albeit an alternated version."
"Slip? Slippery slip?" The tone of Denios' voice turns from interest to confusion. "That is... A spell in a kindergarten spell book!"
He could understand if the spell was mundane. After all, it is not common but also not too rare to see a wizard who finds other ways to improve a simple spell. The simpler a spell is, the easier to adjust to one's own liking. Furthermore, Denios is a wizard of tradition. He believes that there is no such thing as a bad spell. Only bad wizards.
However...Slip...can be countered easily by casting Ground for one person or its upgraded version, Gravity for a whole troop. Whenever there was a fight, those two spells were the ones that were the first to be applied.
"Yes, Great Denios. But he has sent us a video to showcase his Slip spell." Without much delay, the crystal ball in front of Denios changes. This time, that transparent sphere the size of his torso shows a duel between two people.
Waving a wooden wand with an intricate design, the opponent of Denios' interest shouts: "I cast blublrrrrrrrrr." As if his tongue is going all over the place, the rest of the shout turns into a hot mess.
And, of course, an incomplete spell is useless.
"What did you do?! I cast FUWAHBLURBLBRBRBR??!?"
"FIREBAHUFUXJSBLLRRRR!!"
"BLIZZARLBLRLBLRRRRRR???"
"I give up..."
At this moment, the young wizard turns to the optical recording.
"I call this version: Slip of the toungue."
|
Mince the mouse was proud of his little nut collection he built. He wouldnt go hungry for a week. He about started the first bite before that big looming shadow came over him no not again! This squirrel is an asshole. “Give em here or ill bite ya again.” Mince begrudgingly handed them over his face grimacing as he looked over into the grass. “Ha loser” said the squirrel before scampering away with his nuts.
Mince is almost knocked over and the grass moves in a wave from the powerful snore of the sleeping bulldog in the sun a bright neon ball in its mouth. Mince squeeks shrilly waking Carlos the Bull dog, “Why do you sleep why dont you chase that squirrel?!” The bulldog wakes with a startle snorting and then gives a look of indifference to the squirrel “he’s over there and I’m over here.” The bulldog murmurs and gets comfortable back into the grass. “But why dont you do it isnt that your job?” The bulldog thinks and says “i get food when I need I sleep when I need and I’m praised for doing nothing. Why should I chase him?” Mince looks confused “But what makes you get out of bed each morning?” Carlos The bulldog says “why would I get out of bed each morning? The only problem in my life is I cant scratch me own back.” Mince storms off frustrated the indifference of the bulldog agitating him while he starves because that bully the squirrel.
The next day Mince gets lucky finding 3 peanuts. Finally he thinks I can eat. As he bigs to take a bite out of his eye he sees the squirrel scampering down the tree. The mouses hairs stand up looking like a little spikeball of fur. “Carlos wake up” carlos stirs awake with that snort and distant look in his eyes. “the squirrel is coming can you help?” Carlos asks “do I have to move?” With those droopy eyes. Mince thinks a moment and takes the ball from Carlos’s mouth. The shock on carlos face as mice shoves three peanuts into his cheeks. “Hold those dont chew” and he puts the ball back in carlos’s mouth.
The Squirrel comes down and says “Give em here Mince.” mince’s heart starts to pound “I-I dont have them.” The squirrel says “You hid them” mince says “Where i am so skinny and brittle I couldnt have possibly put them anywhere.” The squirrel looks around and see Carlos still sleeping. “Next time Mince…” and he scampers away.
Once the squirrel was gone mince says to carlos ok you can wake up. And he retrieves the peanuts from his cheek. Carlos has a look of joy and a big smile over his saggy face “He didn’t even know I wasn’t sleeping I’m really good at faking that!” Mince smiles and says “You did great! You helped me let me scratch your back” as mince expertly scratch’s carlo’s back carlos is raving he’s so excited “He had no idea that idiot I’m really good at this I didn’t think I was good at anything! Thank you mince!” And the two of them became friends carlos finally finding something he’s talented at and mince learning to stand up for himself once and for all.
|
thien599
|
ThrowRabaddieera
|
2023-07-08 02:13:56
|
2023-07-07 19:17:55
| 54 | 23 |
jr3s946
| null |
14t91lm
|
14t91lm
|
[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.
|
"Ah, what a wonderful view. So many youths with untapped potential, all failing a simple warding spell" I couldn't help but chuckle as I watch the young ones tried casting the simple Barrier cantrip, the very first spell we teach every mageling when they arrive. Sure, its only the first week of school, and many only have just discovered how to even focus on drawing out their energies thru the various methods of focuses. But before they can even learn how to throw a simple fireball, they must learn how NOT to be hit by one.
I glance over to the lakeside waters, the first hint of autumn beginning to appear on the edges of the leaves. Its a beautiful day outside, a perfect time to let the young mages get fresh air and sunlight, as well as some well needed Vitamin D for my weary bones. True, none of these kids have figured out that I am a lich, thanks to my disguise magics and illusions. Heck, most of them think of me as an elderly grandfather, or at least I hope they do. A few may have their suspicions of me, but I think they think I'm just a long living elf. Hard to tell what these kids think I am, they just talk all sorts of weird lingo I have never heard of. Ah well, as long as I have the "skipidy rizz" they rattle off about, I think we should be fine.
"Mark! Stop trying to think of the Barrier as a weapon, and more of a bubble! As cool as it would be to make it a sword, that's not what it does! Focus on making the Barrier first, then worry about its looks later!" I sigh as the brat sticks his tongue out at me before returning to force the spell into the shape of what I assume is a sword. The kid has potential, but his stubborness will be the end of him someday. Like his Grandfather before him, when he fought me. I wonder if Mark's parents told him the truth...
"Teacher!" I hear a shout, and turned to see Emily in a perfectly casted Barrier spell. "Teacher! Help!"
I chuckle as i approached her. "Well, well, well, That looks very good, Emily, why are you asking for-"
"Teacher!!! The lake monster!!!" Emily shouted out, staring right behind me. I turned, and was looking upwards towards what I quickly recognized as a Hydra, seven serpentine heads raising out of the water, each head that could easily devour a child whole staring down at my class. Foolish pest.
"Oh, well, this could work well as demonstration purposes." I shrugged, preparing the simple cantrip in my mind. "Come children, behind me please, and quickly now!"
Most of the children quickly obeyed, running behind me, however Emily found out quickly the drawback to the Barrier Spell; once you cast it, you have to dispell it, or wait for it to be broken or run out of energy. But she was close enough to me, so she was not in any danger. The Hydra, on the other hand- was lunging all 7 heads right towards her. Well shit.
"BARRIER!" I casted my own around me and the children, as well as Emily's little shield. The glowing purple light quickly hardened right as the heads reached it, bouncing them away with dark growls and rumblings. I leaned over to Emily, smiling softly with the illusion guise. "Are you alright Emily? Nearly scared in there?"
"I-I think so, teacher" she whimpers softly, tears forming in her eyes. "Am-am I trapped in here?"
"Not at all, child\~ The Barrier will fade when you wish it to, just focus on your barrier, let the magic soften." I coached her softly, talking calmly as patiently, using her barrier to help the students focus on Emily rather then the Hydra, who was now thrashing against my own Barrier.
"But... but what if the Hydra breaks through your barrier?"
"Oh, I don't think it will even have the time for that, my child" I smile softly, and i thickened the purple hue of my Barrier, hiding the hydra from the childrens eyes, as well as hiding my undead army being summoned around the Hydra. "Look, we will await in here until the Hydra leaves. In the meantime, just take in a deep breath, and let your barrier down, nice and slowly."
Emily slowly calmed down, and eventually was able to lower her Barrier. She quickly rushed into my arms, holding my tightly in her young fear. I... I hadn't hugged a young child in such a long time. I was afraid that she could feel my bones through the robes, but now wasn't the time for that concern. I picked her up softly, holding her close with my boney arms, smiling to the other children.
"Alright, you can see how powerful my barrier is. If you don't think I can hold off that hydra, the rest of you better start learning how to make your own barriers!" I grinned with my crooked smile, getting the rest of the children to quickly return to practicing their barriers. I turned to look at Eily, about to let her down when I noticed she had fallen asleep in my arms. Goodness, did she wear herself out from her own barrier?
I genlty sat down upon the grass, watching over the rest of the children as they practiced on their Barriers. Outside, my undead army had swiftly dealt with the Hydra, and was dragging the body off. Where did it come from, I wonder? How did it get onto school grounds? Questions I will have to answer later, I suppose... "Teacher..." I heard Emily stir in her sleep. I glanced over to her, curiously. "... you need to eat, you are so thin..." That made me chuckle softly. Such wonderful potential for a brighter world in my arms.
|
"If you surrender now I promise we shall make your deaths quick and painless. If you insist on a fight then we will make sure your agony last for as.."
Brunan the conqueror is stopped mid word by the one thing he had not expected to see.. an animated skeleton standing on the ramparts of the castle. This isn't good. Someone in the castle is a damned necromancer. One thing he hates are damn necromancers. Just animate corpses then animate his dead men to fight for them. Nasty business it is fighting the damned. Before he can speak again the skeleton starts talking.
"Be known this school is under the protection of Ignar the lich. If you simply walk away now I will overlook your transgressions. Utter a single word and well you shall find out"
Now brunan has to make a choice. If he walks away its a 50/50 chance the damn soul bound monster stays true to his word. If he stays well things are not looking good..
"My apologies master ignar, I will be departing."
Before he can say anything else the land to his right begins to shift and animated corpses of are those vikings? Oh dear this isnt good.
"I made myself clear. Now you can run or stand either way you battle the last army that believed our school looked like a tasty treat."
Ignar sighs. Why cant they just do as they are told. Now the boys are going to have to go cover the graves again. 2nd time this week in fact. Maybe a proclamation to the kingdom will help.. no those savage things from last week just stumbled upon the grounds. They did put up a fight ignar had to admit. Got the upper classmen and apprentices some right good practice..
Brunan screams as he fends off the one armed corpse trying to cleve him with a broad sword. He shouts to his men but it matters not the dead are surrounding them and cutting them down like flies. Soon its only brunan and a page they had kidnapped from an abbey they raided last week. The lich walks slowly out of his keep with a double line of wizards and sorcerers behind him.
"You where warned afterall"
Ignar says looking at the two remaining beings that survived. The army has three rules. One if they attack you kill them. If they surrender you bring them to ignar to decide. 3 if they are not yet an adult regardless of whether they attempt to fight or not they are restrained and brought to ignar.
He stops in front of the boy and asks him his name. The child no more than 12 just shutters and cries. It seems someone cut out his tongue.
"We found him that way. Dont know if it was them wicked monks we found or someone before them.."
Ignar just punches the man across the chin.
"You will only speak when spoken too."
Brunan quietly nods in acknowledgment.
"Good. This boy here has any harm come to him under your watch?"
Brunan shakes his head "no we took him from far worse. Was gonna make him a scout when he grew up. Hes good at drawing and what not."
Brunan realizes he has spoken without a direct request and cringes waiting for the strike. Ignar just stares at him. After a solid minute he speaks again.
"Your threat was not serious was it."
Brunan looks to the lich "no I just say that to get them to give up and we take everything useful and pretend we are tired and spare them. Except when we find shit like that abbey. Monsters they were. Devil warship, sacrifice and well things if rather not acknowledge if im being honest"
Ignar looks to the east
"So the brotherhood of the serpent has returned. Eh i should go hunt them down again but honestly my bones ache. I will tell you what. Take this army of the damned. March them past that abby to riverwash and find the boatman gransh. He will tell you how to get to where the brotherhood keeps its main fighting forces. Go and rid this land of their presence and we will call it even."
Ignar extends a hand to brunan half to bring him to his feet and to seal the bargain. Brunan accepts and upon standing ignar leans in for one more comment.
"Once you have defeated the brotherhood this army shall be no more. Make sure they receive a proper burial or i shall come looking for you."
Brunan smiles thanks the lich and jumps on the one remaining horse to lead the army of the damned away.
Ignar chuckles to himself
"I wonder how long he will ride before he finds out they are already dead. Not sure where that Abby was but its not very likely there are more seeing i killed them all several years ago.. my child i apologize. We are a school of higher magical learning. Im sorry to know someone turned you into a mute. However we have studies where that doesnt matter. Would you like to join us?"
The boy smiles nodding his head rather fast. Good the trauma doesnt seem to be that bad. Hopefully he becomes proficient in hand spells. Looking out over the grounds ignar sighs he is happy he decided to retire here. Happier that things have been going so well for the last 20 years. Also that he got that idiot to take the bodies away and now he has to be the one to deal with them.
|
FauxWolfTail
|
nightmareonmystreet1
|
2024-05-01 23:14:36
|
2024-05-01 22:45:28
| 309 | 83 |
l2606cu
|
l25vrzi
|
1chxrzs
|
1chxrzs
|
[WP] Being invisible has its perks, but you can't exactly sign a lease. As such, you've become quite the expert lockpick to always have a place to sleep. When you settled into the cozy lake cabin to get out of the rain, you hear "We've been expecting you" from the shadows.
|
Five simple words. Or was it six? Let’s call it six because that makes the phrase symmetrical and everyone loves symmetry.
“Peek-a-boo! I see you.”
It was the invisible man’s favorite game. He’d approach unsuspecting victims and scare the pants off of them with those six simple words. Hell, one time he effectively scared the pants *on* his buddy Ray (it should be noted that Ray was on the toilet at the untimely time of his unappreciated pranking).
But it was all in good fun. And more often than not, that good fun was even harmless fun. “What’s the point of being invisible if you can’t have a good time with it,” the invisible man was wont to say. To be sure, our invisible jester-prince was more jester than prince. No person off limits, no joke too far. Indeed, the invisible man was an equal-opportunity prankster.
It was a well known fact that our resident invisible man was in fact no resident at all. That is, he was homeless.
Now before you go on empathizing with our hapless hero, you must have all of the facts—one must not jump to conclusions. The invisible man was not homeless out of necessity, nor out of happenstance; no, the invisible man was homeless by choice.
You see, when one learns as an invisible boy that one can steal candy bars without so much as raising an eyebrow, one grows up to be an invisible man that will steal shelter without so much as raising a penny.
Now, where was I? Oh yes: it was a well known fact that our resident invisible man was in fact no resident at all. The invisible man “couch surfed” his way through life. Conventional wisdom tell us that “couch surfing” implies an inherent level of consent provided by the owner of said couch—that was not the case for our visibility challenged hero. For that reason, we’ll call the invisible man’s tact “home invasion.”
Residents in town began to grumble and groan at the thought of an invisible prankster living among them. Even his friends grew tired of his tireless antics. And, you know what, it makes sense. That would get old and fast. We’ve all been around the guy for whom everything is a joke and nothing is sacred. You know the guy in high school who walked around the locker room naked, whipping kids with a wet towel shrieking and laughing never realizing that he has already peaked in life. Nobody likes that guy. The invisible man had become that guy.
And so it was that one day, the jester-prince became the jestee-prince.
One night, the invisible man sauntered into—that is, again, committed a home invasion—a vacant bedroom that he frequented. It was in a quiet house, in a quiet neighborhood, on a quiet street. You see, even pranksters like a good night’s sleep.
As his head hit the pillow, the invisible man heard five words that shook him to his core.
“We have been expecting you!”
You see, it’s five words, not six. From earlier. “Peeka-boo. I see you!” Five words. It works better that way. It’s symmetrical. Like I told you, everyone loves symmetry.
Anyway…At the sound of the words, the invisible man launched himself out of bed and onto his feet. Only, since they were expecting him, they must have been expecting that reaction, and so as he landed on his feet he was coated from head to toe in colorful, neon pink corn starch, a sack of which had been cut from above his head.
At that moment, our invisible hero was no longer so invisible. At that same moment the invisible man’s friends realized their shocking lack of foresight and paid dearly for it.
You see, being an invisible man didn’t just mean that he didn’t have to pay for candy, or shelter, or the myriad other things one expects an invisible man may steal. It also meant—and really, had any of them given this even a second of thought it would have been obvious to them—that the invisible man didn’t need to buy clothes.
And so it was that the invisible man’s friends saw the invisible man’s pecker and all agreed to leave the pranking to the professional (i.e. the invisible man) on a go forward basis.
At the end of the day, the invisible man had also learned a valuable lesson. Don’t push your friends too far, or they may be forced to think hard on a way to get you back. And, it’s a good thing to keep in mind for us all, as we—let’s face it—all have friends who are rather dim witted who may pull a prank that leaves your pecker—or any other unseemly area—exposed in a less than flattering neon pink powder.
________
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out my other stories at r/InMyLife42Archive
|
They say not to mess with magic; in this case, 'they' is every PSA, textbook and veteran you interact with from the moment you discover how to shoot sparks. They say many things about magic, how it behaves, and how it thinks.
Of course, they also suggest the speed limit, and nobody thinks that 70 is a reasonable speed no on the highway.
Of course, I found out the hard way that the speed limit comparison was the problem or I wouldn't have thought about this so much. While speed limits are a matter of physics and law, magic has always been about negotiation. Sure, some spells are so consistent that they are essentially laws, but anything off the beaten path is a conversation between the caster and curse.
I'd wanted to turn invisible, but I rewrote the spell to try and buy myself an extra hour of invisibility. That's how all of this started, two glasses of wine, a bad idea and misplaced confidence in my improv skills. I'd bought myself extra time; I had yet to figure out how much.
It was at least enough that I'd stopped being angry about it a while ago. Invisibility wasn't entirely downside, and life as a 'ghost' was tolerable.
Either that, or I was just used to it. Hard to tell.
Living with the accidental curse was interesting. I still needed to eat, sleep, keep myself warm and everything that came with that, but there wasn't a way for me to engage with society. Jobs, leases and most other steps in the social ladder required a visible form. I'd been able to use Government Curse Adjustment Programs for a while, but they were underfunded and weren't a long-term solution.
No, the solution had been to embrace invisibility and do what I did best, disappear. I could live in someone's house for several days before they suspected a poltergeist, and there were enough books to keep me entertained. Between my required curse-breaking hobby, getting four unofficial degrees from MBU and trying to find a fabric that didn't turn invisible when I wore it, I'd managed to keep myself busy.
All of this to explain why the homeless, jobless invisible woman was taking a vacation. I thought I deserved it, and I'd seen the family that owned this cabin head back to the city earlier today. I could spend a week here, specifically not getting a tan, and head somewhere else before they came back next weekend.
The front door was easy. They always were. Lockpicking spells were more than enough for residential bolts, and nobody was arresting me for illegal magic anytime soon. The alarm systems were more annoying, even if I set it off and the cops showed up...
Well, it was like lockpicking; they'd need to find me first.
I opened the door and slipped into the house just as it began to rain outside. The light pitter-patter of droplets chased me as I shut the door and kicked off the sneakers I'd been wearing. My ratty shoes popped into view as they stopped touching my body. I needed a new pair, but I'd kept putting it off because nobody could see them, and I had no idea if they even looked good on me.
Thinking about it, I missed shopping. I'd always been too harsh on myself in the mirror and put things back on the shelf that I should have bought. I'd always been able to tell myself that I had years to make brave fashion choices. Now I didn't have a reflection, which made it hard to know whether I looked like a wet rat or cute as I broke into this place.
I turned away from the mirror in the entranceway and found the light switch. I flicked it on, and a single bulb in the entryway sputtered to life, leaving the rest of the house mostly shadow.
"One of those houses," I mused to myself as I walked properly inside and started to take stock of the little lakehouse. There were only three rooms, and the main one was taken up by a massive dining table that was clearly the most expensive thing in the room.
I flicked another switch, and the fixture above the table turned on; five bulbs where candles should have been on a chandelier. The warm light betrayed how shined the table was like nobody had ever eaten off it before.
I was going to change that this week.
|
None
|
Writteninsanity
|
2023-01-20 04:38:53
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2023-01-20 01:59:53
| 533 | 235 | null | null |
10gh61d
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10gh61d
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[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!”
|
"The fae are not evil, no more so than the tide or the wind. They are not good or evil; they simply are," said the wise woman, her hair braided around sigils and symbols woven from reeds. Her voice was soft and gentle, but not a hint of sorrow or real sympathy even touched it.
"They killed my son!" Amara spat, her brown eyes so ablaze with ire and red they could have boiled away her tears. "They ensorcelled him, drew him into the forest, and ate him - and they did so while their sorcery had me paralyzed! If that is not evil, then why do we have the word?" It had taken her weeks to even speak again, and now she would not be ignored.
"Justification for rash action, I suspect, mostly an invention of the men who run the church."
"At least those men *do something*. You, oh druidess, only patronize. When we are wounded or ill, you tell us that nature must run its course - but when it is you or one of your pets who suffers, then your magic is the answer."
"If I depart, then who will guide you?"
"When a demon haunted our village, brother Tane gave up an arm to slay it without harming the girl it possessed. What did *you* do?"
The woman spread her hands slowly, "I listened to the wisdom of the ancients. That demon had its place, and now it is removed. Who knows what trouble that fool caused by disrupting the natural order."
Amara thought of the knife on her belt, a tool first but a weapon in waiting always. It had sliced potatoes, lamb, chicken, and cow, but all of these were dead beforehand. If she "followed nature" and gave into her rage, she reckoned the hypocritical witch before her would deem it necessary to heal herself and retaliate.
Instead, she turned in disgust to depart.
"Where are you going?"
"To Mogan's smithy and then to the temple. I'm getting a spike of cold iron and blessings against magic."
"I told you! The fae are simply acting within their nature!"
"And when wolves kill our children, we cull them. They do not get to be both animals and people at once, Magda."
"This is foolish, woman! You would do better to birth a new child and be more careful this time."
Amara whirled about, drawing her trusted blade with grace she had never before possessed. It flew from her hand in the same motion, spiraling end over end. The witch flinched away, dodging the attack just in time to save herself, but not quickly enough to avoid losing half her hair's length and an equal portion of the charms she had bound to it.
"I will have blood, Magda, and if you warn your little fairy friends away, your blood will have to do instead." As Magda began chanting to call her magic, Amara reached behind her back for a knife that wasn't there. "Silence or I will throw again," she bluffed, "and I won't miss this time."
The witch ceased her incantation, but glared at her. "You will start a war..."
"I cannot start what has already begun," she growled before turning again and strode away, sure to mime moving her non-existent weapon to the front of her belt as she did.
The fae would soon meet the true force of nature they only pretended to be.
|
The Guardian of the realm continued calmly with his gardening, while the red-eyed man entered his domain.
"I did the trials, I passed them all, I retrieved all the lost items.
Listen to me.", the man said, as he scattered countless relics, and books on the ground.
The Guardian looked up at the man and smiled.
Wiping his hands on his trousers, he pointed to the items, which then promptly disappeared.
"Thank you, little one.
Now, tell me, what is it that you desire.", the Guardian said.
The man gritted his teeth, and a trail of blood trickled down his chin.
"I want the Fae of the planet Mortensia dead!", he roared in a low voice.
"Oh, you reached godhood...travelled the entire realm, helped kingdom rise and helped Empires fall...
You rescued demons, and damned angels...
For this meager of a request?", the Guardian smilingly asked.
"Yes, now do it!
I've been told you are omnipotent in this realm you guard...
You can kill those pests completely!", the man roared.
The Guardian just shook his head.
"What? You can't?", the man asked, his fists clenched so tightly, the space around them was shivering.
"The Fae are spirits of Nature itself.
They are not evil, no more so than the tide or the wind.
They are not good nor evil, they simply are...
Bound by the workings of the realm itself, a Fae becomes less...immortal the moment it goes against the Ways of the World.", the Guardian said.
"THEY KILLED MY SON! WHAT NOT GOOD NOR EVIL?!
I COMPLETED YOUR QUESTS! DO MY BIDDING!", the man roared.
The Guardian just chuckled, and with that chuckle...the world shattered.
The man saw darkness deeper than the void engulf him, before an explosion of colors impossible to be described by words blew him into smithereens.
He was and wasn't, is but isn't, and will be but won't be.
He experienced everything and nothing, before he found himself once more in the domain of the Guardian, facing the gardener looking being.
"I...", the man muttered.
"Blinded by rage, you wish for the destruction of beings whom indeed, tricked your son, but nonetheless, your son accepted their deal...and lost.
Blinded by rage, you went on a rampage, and did the impossible...
Blinded by rage...you went and was rude to me...which I forgive don't worry...
But...blinded by rage, you just wasted your request on killing the killers, instead of reviving your son...
Sigh...so be it, the Fae of the Mortensia planet...are no more.
Farewell.", the Guardian said, as the man disappeared...while screaming in pain.
The Guardian shook his head, and went back to his gardening...there in the ground, swirls of stars and planets were growing...
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MasterV3ga
|
TheWanderingBook
|
2024-09-02 17:13:57
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2024-09-02 16:29:05
| 339 | 32 |
ll69u15
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ll61m3p
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1f78gbx
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1f78gbx
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[WP] In a world where it is no longer trendy to have an ordinary human body, the kids are all flocking to get cybernetics. Your mom has banned you from getting any until you turn 18.
|
"I sat at home, or with friends, and just watched.
Not having cybernetics was annoying at first, but then came the complaints, the malfunctions, the bugs, and the repairs.
My friends complained about how the repair technician chewed them out for being the 5th, 10th, or even 30th teen with the same problem they had that month.
I heard them talk about how the issues arose, and by the time I was 16, I could already tell when someone's cybernetics would malfunction due to their own recklessness. So, I interned at a local cybernetics shop, to learn how to fix them.
By the time I turned 18, I was known for having professional-level knowledge of cybernetics, and would help my friends avoid more serious damages.
And, having spent so much time listening to everyone talk about every brand, the costs, the risks, the damages, and the issues of maintaining them, I decided to just get a few smaller ones; nasal and ocular implants, a respirator in the wind pipe, and a literal thumb drive.
My friends assumed I did my repairs myself, and only went to the shop for routine maintenance, when in reality, their mistakes had taught me enough that the routine maintenance was enough to keep the implants running.
Nowadays, my friends have permanent issues from their malfunctioning cybernetics. The media claims that's a result of newly-developed technology that hit the market when I was younger. And while that is true, that is not the full truth. The reason is that teenagers flocked to get this new technology without really considering their options, and weighing the risks.
I have long since realized that that was why my mother banned me from getting cybernetics so early; impulse-buying them was too risky for me, and she thought an explanation was not necessary.
But, I am not my mother, so I am explaining this to you."
I looked at my son, who had saved up enough money to buy a Swiss Army hand, the new model that came with bear spray and a taser.
"Got it," my son said and put the money away again, "Thanks, dad."
A few years later, I softened the ban a tiny bit, by only 6 months, after my son had learned about the risks, which cybernetics he really needed, and how to maintain them.
|
"Mom, please? Everyone at school has cybernetics!"
"If all of your friends were to jump off a bridge, would you?"
"Ugh, mom! That's so 2030!"
"We've talked about this, honey. You're not getting cybernetics until you turn eighteen."
"But Mom! I can't wait that long!"
"It's only a couple of years. You'll thank me later when you haven't made permanent changes to your body because you were young and stupid."
"Ugh!" *Scrolls through phone.* "Look at HarmlessAndriod, mom! She got a new cybernetic eye! It's all red, it looks so cool! Why can't I get that?"
*Sigh.* "There was a period, back in 2024, where I thought Tiktok would disappear. Yet here it is, infecting another generation with its toxic trends."
"Mom, you aren't even looking!"
"Look, Aera, I'm gonna be honest with you. This cybernetic thing is a trend, and who knows how long it will last? In a couple of years, people will be obsessing over some new thing. Just because cybernetics are trending on Tiktok now, doesn't mean they'll be trending in ten years. Do you remember when Stanleys were trending?"
"What are Stanleys?"
"Exactly."
"Mom, who cares how long the trend lasts? Everyone is getting cybernetics! If I don't get cybernetics, I'll be a total loser!"
"Sweetie, I'm not letting you make a permanent change to your body just because its trending. To be completely honest, I'm hoping that by the time you're eighteen, this cybernetic trend will have died and the internet will be obsessing over something else. If you turn eighteen and you still want cybernetics, fine. I won't stop you. But as your parent, it is my job to protect you. And that includes protecting you from changing your body so that other people will like you."
"Ugh! You never let me do what I want! I hate you!"
*Runs up to her room and slams the door.*
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Kartoffelkamm
|
dragontimelord
|
2024-07-27 07:15:37
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2024-07-27 06:17:09
| 98 | 72 |
lf5o7lf
|
lf5iuj3
|
1ed7bz0
|
1ed7bz0
|
[WP] You know a shapeshifter replaced your significant other a while ago. You don't much care, though; the relationship's been far healthier since.
|
Appearance is everything. That's the lesson my mother imparted upon me at the ripe old age of nine. It's also the same reason that, twelve years later, she married me off to one Dr. Robert Lestrade after she discovered I was bisexual and fell into a panicked state over the idea I'd end up marrying a woman. Needless to say, I don't talk much to my mother anymore.
Robert was a lot of things: a selfish partner, an emotionally unavailable rock of a man, a fool obsessed with status and moving up the social ladder. But those were all secondary to what he was first and foremost: a scientist. Robert routinely pushed the boundaries of modern technology to further humanity's ascension to the final frontier--with the expectation he'd be leading the charge, of course. He'd leave me and our twin girls, Tanya and Trina, alone for long swathes of time; some days, all he ever said to me was, "Not now Janet, I'm busy."
Then one day something changed. Robert came home after spending the night in his lab and offered to take us out for ice cream. I agreed with resignation; Robert would bring us out on excursions every so often to put up an appearance of being a good father that the tabloids would snap up. But there wasn't a single reporter to be found at the ice cream parlor, and the whole time Robert talked to me, actually *talked* to me, about my day and the work he'd been doing.
I clued in immediately that this wasn't the real Robert. Every little thing that the imposter did made it more and more obvious. The way they would stare out the window at the garden with delight when the real Robert was disgusted by even the butterflies. The obvious joy in their eyes when Tanya and Trina dragged him into their games of pretend when the real Robert only ever cared about the girls when report cards started getting handed out. The way they cared for me and made me feel good all over when the real Robert hadn't been intimate with me since the girls were born.
I was happy with the way things were, but my curiosity wouldn't let go. So one night, after the imposter had put the girls to bed, I confronted them and asked for the truth. After a few attempts at coming up with excuses, the imposter came clean, starting with shedding their disguise. Quite literally--they shed the form of Robert, revealing a strange, violet-blue humanoid body with a pair of red, slit-shaped eyes with no irises and three-fingered hands.
The imposter explained that they had crashed on Earth several years ago while on a journey of self-discovery, and were recently found by Robert, who quickly grew obsessed with the idea of being the first person to gain indisputable proof of extraterrestrial life. Robert locked the imposter away and experimented on them to find out what made them tick. But before long, the imposter couldn't handle Robert's experiments (or perhaps Robert in general) anymore, and they escaped early one morning. Robert, genius that he was, gave chase while it was still dark out, and ended up running off a cliff and clipping his head against a rock. With no other options, the imposter buried Robert's body where nobody would find it and took on his form.
After their explanation was finished, the imposter started to leave, but I stopped them. I explained how the past few months with them were more fulfilling than any length of time I'd spent with Robert, and they were more than welcome to stay. They accepted, but admitted to not liking the idea of having to be someone else for the rest of their life. Luckily, I had a solution.
Four years later, Dr. Eloise Lestrade was making headlines for her breakthrough in terraforming technology and getting science closer than ever before to faster-than-light travel, Tanya and Trina were excelling academically under the tutelage of their new mother, and Eloise and I were eagerly awaiting the birth of our son. And at that point, I finally saw a small pearl of wisdom in my mother's belief. Because if appearance is everything, then this life of mine that's every bit as loving and blissful as it appears on the surface is a true gift.
|
Well it _was_ an idyllic morning. The sun was brightly shining through the window. I was wearing a very sexy apron over a dark blue lace negligee. Breakfast was nearly done - pseudo-bacon and lab-grown eggs, hot coffee and toast with lots of butter. Exactly how he liked it. And then the illusion was shattered.
"I know what you are. I know you're not my wife."
I look up quickly ... straight into the barrel of a flechette pistol. "Time for us to have a little talk, missy."
And then as my hand slowly shifted over the large kitchen knife "Stop that and listen up, you stupid bitch." My hand stilled. "And that's exactly why I've decided to keep you. Unlike my useless wife, _you_ actually listen."
"_Keep me?_" I quietly murmer.
"Yeah. You're exactly what I want. A nice little quiet and submissive wife. Doesn't hurt that your better in bed as well. I guess they train you shapeshifting spy types real good."
"_Submissive? That's ... not exactly how people would usually describe me._"
He smirks. "But that's exactly how you're going to have to behave, if you don't want your cover blown, Republican spy."
"_Unless I kill you._"
The pistol snaps back up. The idiot gets closer and stays making little jabbing motions with it. "Why do you think I waited until now to confront you? It took a while to organise a dead-man's data drop. If I don't log in every now and again, Comm-Sec is told all about you."
"_So you've known all along?_"
He smirked again. "From the very beginning. Her old man is a Gene Morph too, so I know what to look for." Man. I'm really getting to hate his smirk. "So. What did you do to her? Did yah kill the stupid bitch?"
"_She was ... removed._" I quietly murmer, looking up at the clock. Yes. Enough time had passed. "_And even if Comm-Sec is informed, I could quickly change my appearance and vanish into the population._"
His smirk gets even broader. "Except I have a friend coming over soon. With a Gene Tagger. Once that's used on you, Comm-Sec, and anyone else with the right equipment, will be able to track you down whenever they want."
I imperceptibly straighten. "_A Gene Tagger? That's Grand Republic technology. It's expressly forbidden in Federation Space. How does a Citizen get their hands on one of those?_"
He smiles broadly "Well maybe by him not really being a Citizen. My ... friend ... has lots of little ... toys he let's me use in return for useful information ... STOP GOING FOR THAT KNIFE!"
"_I'm not going for the knife._" I say, as my hand passes over the blade. I look up with amusement as I hear repeated clicking. "_I emptied that pistol last night after you feel asleep._" My hand flips open my purse, opens a hidden pouch and withdraws a gold and white ID card. I hold it up in front of his face.
"You ... you're Comm-Sec?"
"_Oh it gets better than that, sweetheart._" I remove my fingers from the ID's photo and shift to my birth form as I walk around the counter. My sashay turns into a saunter. My voice drops into a manly register. "_Long time no see, Frank._"
"YOU?"
"_Yup._" My voice shifts to a growl as I change to my favourite war form. I casually throw Frank face-first into the wall and pin him there. "_Now originally I had envisioned this becoming a discussion about how you've been treating my little girl, who ..._" I look up at the clock "_... should safely be with her mother at this point ..._"
I look back to Frank with a fang-filled smile on my face.
"_ But lucky me I've found a traitor and informer. So now I get to indulge in some government-sanctioned torture. Lucky lucky me._"
My war form's pharyngeal jaw nips his earlobe as I smell the little maggot piss himself. "_And just so you know. In my VERY well trained experience, you are without a doubt the WORST fuck I've ever had._"
|
jardanovic
|
joalheagney
|
2023-04-05 22:27:55
|
2023-04-05 22:19:57
| 39 | 26 |
jf42d6i
|
jf4196x
|
12c7za2
|
12c7za2
|
[WP] You're a mostly forgotten god whose only believer is a ten-year-old girl. Every night she offers you a bit of her dinner or a shiny rock in exchange for her family surviving the night and every night you accept because she's never in danger Tonight, however, you actually have to work for it.
|
Her tiny hands were joined together.
“Dear Cattle God, today my friend and I threw rocks in the river. I threw a rock but she came in between and got hit. I’m so sorry. She is safe now. But she cried a lot.”
She opened her eyes, took a small shiny pebble from her pocket and placed it on the window sill in front of her. She closed her eyes again.
“I knew you saved her Cattle God. You were there. I could feel it. Shishi was also there, did she tell you to come and save her? Mommy said if it had hit her head it’d be way worse. Please take this pebble as a thank you from me.”
A thunder rocked the wooden cottage.
“Please tell the Rain God to keep it down. It has been pouring a lot since the last few hours.”
She had now opened her eyes. She continued talking as she climbed her bed and unfolded the bed sheets.
“Nobody believes in you even when I tell them you take my gifts and listen to my wishes. They are not bad people but I really wished they would listen to me.”
A light flashed outside the window with a loud bang. The bolt had struck not too far from the house. She jumped up from the bed.
“Is it you Cattle God?”
“It’s me.” there was a shadow of someone standing outside her window.
She rushed to the window.
“You look so sad.”
“I’m not sad. That’s how my face is.” The Cattle God got conscious.
“You’re so big. Are you here to take my rock?” The girl slid open the window.
“I’m here to save you little girl.”
“I can’t, my mommy says I can’t be outside in the rain.”
“It’s going to flood soon and it will be a very bad flood.”
“Will it get in my house? Will there be a pool in my room?” Oh, what would she not give to have a pool in her own home? She could dive from the sofa, she could sit on the floor while her head bobbed in and out of the water.
“Little child. It’s not safe for you. Come outside, we'll go to your Aunt’s house.”
“You’re a God right? Can’t you stop the flood?”
Her innocent question shook him. For as long as he could remember he had not done any magic. He was unsure if he had any superpower. He was exceptionally good at guiding sheeps, but that was about it.
“I can’t. I can’t stop the rain like Indra, I can’t direct the wind like Vayu, I can’t slow the river like Varuna.”
“I bet you can do a lot of things. My mother says we all have special powers. Even I.”
A smile appeared on the god’s face.
“What’s your power little girl?”
“Well. I can make Gods appear.” She let out a shy giggle.
The God chuckled. The girl was curious, she asked,
“Why did you appear to me God?”
“Because you believed in me, little child.”
“If you believe in your powers, will they appear too?”
The God was taken aback by that, but a moment later he could sense a new energy igniting, the dejection inside him vanishing.
“You can do it, Cattle God. I trust you.”
The words felt magical to him. It was the first time someone believed in him and his powers.
The dogs were barking in the distance. The birds started flying, sprinkling the sky.
“Shishi!” The girl exclaimed when a calf came running from the bushes. Her tail and head showed how happy she was seeing both of them.
The God petted the calf, “My children, we have to unite!”
His voice echoed through the jungle.
There were rustling all around as cows, sheeps, goats, pigs and all different kinds of farm animals started appearing all around the house. They were organizing in a formation.
“Let’s show Indra what I, Daksha, and you, my children, are capable of!” The God addressed the growing gathering of various animals in the mud and the wet shrubs.
They started moving towards the river which had grown enormously in the last hour.
Some animals were digging, some were trying to fell the trees, yet the others were moving rocks to form a wall.
Large throngs of animals were still appearing from all directions, each animal knew exactly what to do.
“My children, this is for years of oppression we have faced by forces of nature!”
The water wouldn’t slow down. The turbulence had become fiercer and the walls of stones started collapsing and crashing.
The animals were determined and were not willing to stop. They were pushing and pulling, trying to create barriers of trees, rocks, sand, soil or whatever they could find. They had created several feet tall blockades around the river.
As soon as it looked like they had contained the water, the downpour seemed to start turning into a cloudburst. The water was flooding rapidly and it had started entering into the little girl’s house which was not far from the river.
A lot of animals had drowned, some had got trampled on, others were injured, but it didn’t dwindle the fierceness of those alive.
The situation had started to turn grim and it started to feel like Daksha had reached his limits. He closed his eyes trying to find some more power inside him.
The girl shouted from her window, “I love you God Daksha.”
Daksha opened his eyes. He kneeled and stretched his arm to touch the water. His finger created a white spot in the water that started to grow rapidly. The splashes of water started sounding heavier as it started to turn to milk. The milk wave was spreading rapidly upstream.
A teardrop formed in Daksha’s eye. It started trickling down his face. He hung his head to drop the tear into the water.
For a moment nothing happened, but then the milk all around suddenly became gooey and creamy. Curdles of milk started appearing as the animals rushed out of the milk river to safety. Soon the curdles started thickening and the flow of the liquid rapidly halted. The river had completely frozen and turned to cheese.
There were sounds of joy and tapping of feet all around. Calves jumped, piglets chased their tails, baby sheep rolled around and goats held their younglings from jumping on their siblings.
Daksha approached the window, finding an excited little girl clapping and celebrating.
“Thank you young girl, you believed in me. I’m not sure if I existed before you thought of me. I owe my powers to you.”
The young girl was very happy. Nobody had told her there was a cattle god. She hadn’t read it anywhere. She had just wished there was a cattle god. Who knows, maybe that thought alone created Daksha in the first place?
|
Calaforgus had once been a mighty God, prayed to by many and revered by many more. His name had sparked fear in the hearts of men and there was little beyond his vast influence. Yet, history had forgotten his name. Civilizations had died and he hadn’t really thought about teaching his believers to write down his might and exploits and thus his power had waned. Nowadays he hung on by a sliver of zealous reverence by one ten year old girl. She brought him some food and pointless stones every day, but as long as those stones meant something to her, they meant something to him. He had never cared much for mortals other than what they provided him with, but his plight had instilled within him a certain sympathy for the one who still chose to pray to him, a forgotten God of old. In return he would protect her and her family. A task easy enough, as the most danger they ran into was hunger.
Today however, Calaforgus could feel something brewing beyond the horizon. He had almost forgotten what divine threat had felt like. The wars between Gods lay in the past ever since the Christian God had taken over everything. There were still rumors of deities more ancient than him lurking in the depths of space, but beyond an artifact here or there, nothing serious had ever occurred. Yet, deep within him stirred an unease. Something was coming and he knew it would be bad. What made it worse, that it was coming with a target. The little innocent ten year old girl and her family and Calaforgus had no idea why.
Just after dinner the girl had shown up by the menhir in the wood. As she did every evening she laid down the leftovers of her dinner and a shiny river pebble she had found earlier that day. She recited a prayer that only vaguely resembled the original, but it was enough to give him access to some of his powers. Calaforgus felt something else approach as well, just over the horizon, but it was coming fast. At first he thought it was just one of the lesser deities, but he had been mistaken. It was more than one and they were far from powerless. He didn’t recognize the divine energy, but he could feel it. Ancient, dangerous, evil and disturbing. It was more an amalgamation of dark energy, lashing out recklessly and unpredictable. Deities out to destroy and corrupt, but without a clear goal. Or maybe even worse, a goal beyond even his divine understanding. Why were they after the girl and her family, though?
With little time left Calaforgus made a decision. One he had never made before, but where he expected to find doubt, he found conviction. The decision was one of sacrifice. There was only one way to protect her and he owed her that. The first slivers of dark divine chaos lashed towards her and Calaforgus managed to deflect it with effort. It had slashed straight through his being. It wasn’t a wound, like a sword brought to a mortal being. Hurting a God happened on a more ethereal level. It was able to reach his existence. Gods don’t know fear, but the feeling that rose in Calaforgus was unfamiliar and heavily uncomfortable. He shook it off as best he could and clashed multiple more times with the various entities. Each hit tearing at him, weakening his control. If the girl had noticed, she didn’t show. She still stood motionless in front of the menhir, reciting her words.
Calaforgus was in tatters. He was there and aware, but where his being had once been strong, contained and radiating, he now was a loose cohesion of divine energy. He couldn’t hold on much longer this way, which meant that there was only one choice left. Gods were born with all their power already there. Access to that power however, was channeled through the amount of worship people gave them. For him that was barely a straw, with only one worshiper left. There was however an emergency button of sorts. In case something larger ever threatened reality. He could force access to all his power, by combining himself with it. He would dissolve his essence into the source. Taking control over every little drop of power, but ceasing to exist as an entity. It was suicide, but it would be the only way to fulfil his promise to the girl. He concentrated on the flow between his being and the well. Slowly bits of his own divine energy started flowing backwards into the opening. He felt his life energy - for lack of a better word - leaving him. The feeling of raw power felt intoxicating, but wrong at the same time. He would turn into a divine nuclear bomb, as uncontrolled as the chaotic evil entities slamming against his failing barriers. The first slivers of darkness broke through and stabbed his core. The girl started noticing the change. A single drop of blood dripped down her cheek. He would need to do this fast and decisively. Only one chance. His last essence dissolved into the roiling mass of raw power.
A massive bright radiating light filled the sky. It was so bright and so powerful it broke through into the real world as well. The girls stared up at a sudden aura in the sky, brighter than the sun at noon. The dark and ancient deities stopped their assaults as they unmistakably felt what was coming. Calaforgus didn’t know why they were after the girl and her family, but he knew that they would regret trying. The maelstrom of light and energy imploded suddenly. Not with a deafening sound, or massive shockwaves. Instead it sent a circular blade through the darkness in complete and utter silence. A silence only heard before creation. An absence of anything and everything. As the light subsided all entities were gone.
In the woods in front of a giant menhir stood a girl. She crouched and laid her hand upon the stone and whispered words of gratitude.
\---
Thank you for reading! If you liked my story I invite you over to r/zeekoeswriting for more of them. Please feel free to let me know your thoughts in the comments!
|
Professor_Entropy
|
zeekoes
|
2023-10-23 20:42:03
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2023-10-23 19:33:19
| 151 | 20 |
k65nflh
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k65bmfq
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17eo460
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17eo460
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[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!”
|
\- *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!*
Emilien looked up at his father, with what he hoped would be smug expression of superiority. But what he saw instantly wiped any of it from his face. He heard stories of "scary humans", and how certain human heroes have torn cities apart singlehandedly, but he never gave them any mind - not until this moment, when he saw his own father, fuming, with fists on the dinner table clenched so hard that balls of his knuckles turned white.
\- *This... Is exactly why.* - Father's voice was surprisingly calm, and words came out slowly, in measured pace, obviously restrained. He walked away from the table, and turned his back to Emilien and his mother.
\- *What?* - Emilien tried to ask, but was hushed by his mother.
\- *You never met your grandfather. And grandmother died when you were ripe old age of three. I still remember her reaction when I announced we are visiting. She treated us like the plague, until she first laid her eyes on you.*
\- *I was afraid to let her hold you, but...* - Mother chimed in -*She fell in love with you from first moments.*
\- *I had a great deal of misunderstandings with my father, Emilien. He was a racist, and couldn't stand the thought I would marry an elf. This was over fifteen years ago, Emilien. And these two empty chairs to the right of me during the wedding reception still burn a hole in my heart.* - Father walked over to the fireplace and took a picture off the mantle. It was a photograph from their wedding. -*And you know what the man who gave me life and raised me, do you know what he did when I sent them a letter announcing that Lülien was pregnant with you?*
\- *I dunno. Tore it to pieces?*
\- *He died, Emilien. Heart attack. He. FUCKING. DIED.* - Last two words Father screamed into balls of his fists.
Emilien never seen him like this. His ever calm, collected and happy father was right now shaking from anger. But, and this realisation came suddenly, this was no longer anger directed at him. This was years upon years of grief, packed tightly into something hidden deep within this person. A box of springs, that Emilien unknowingly and unintentionally poked open.
\- *He died. He's no longer among the living. You are right. Maybe I shouldn't care, he's no longer alive, so what does he matter, right? But, my own father died hating my guts. I never had the chance to make up with him. I never had the chance to explain. To show him the good. To introduce him to you. And it hurts whenever I think about it. It hurts whenever I visit his grave. It hurts whenever I see that my siblings neglect this duty...*
Father sat back down at the table with a defeated sigh.
\- *So... Yes. In... Maybe forty years, fifty if we're lucky, I will not be your problem anymore. And only then you'll truly realise, why should you have cared.*
|
"My Lord, I have no clue who these mortals are. Why are they-"
"*These four mortals are the key to saving my Realm!*" the King of the Amethyst Court bellowed. "They seem to know you, so you better get them comfortable with their new role as Protectors of this land! Oh, and don't out yourself as an Amethyst Courtier to these mortals."
I bowed slightly. "Of course, My Lord. But mortals? Truly?"
"Yes. Now go, before I send you to that one part of my Realm that you recently got for me. You know, the one that the thermostat is broken?"
"Right away."
~*~*~*~*~
I looked at the mortals, shaking my head slightly. Fragile beings. I still do not understand why my Lord chose these weaklings to save these lands. The war that the Crimson Queen began with Znanel is an immortal matter, to be dealt with the Blood-Knights and the Knower-Keepers.
"Wow, Isoth! You got to talk face-to-face with the god of this place?" a sad looking girl with her hair dyed a powder blue walked up to me. Marienne, I think her name is.
A young man with mousey brown hair was the next to bombard me with his energy. "What did he say? I know we are meant to save this realm but-"
"SILENCE, FOOL!" my voice shook crystalline purple leaves off of the tree. "We are all to choose how we want to look in this realm. Man, Mer, Beast, Manbeast, Mermanbeast, whatever. Just choose, and choose quickly. The forces of Znanel are upon us."
Another young man, but with short blond hair, looked up from his book. "Wood elf."
Immediately, he grew shorter, his features turning more angular and wood-tinged.
Marienne was in awe. "Silas, who knew you would look so good like that!"
The mouse haired male jumped up and down. "Can I be Mousefolk?"
Much like how Silas became as he is now, so did this male.
"Way to go, Benji," the last mortal clapped slowly. "Way to out yourself."
Benji pouted. "What about you, Myata? What will you be?
Myata looked up at the sky. "Make me into a powerful warrior. With a sword. I like swords a lot."
"A mortal after my own heart," I smiled as the androgynous form became their desired self. "Now, Marienne, what do you want to be?"
"I liked Myata's idea. Something like that?" Her transformation started. "Only less swords, and more magic, please."
Benji twitched his ears in my direction. "Isoth, what about you? What will you be?"
"In my fucking armor is what I'll be," I started marching southwards towards my domicile. "And that's what you lot had better start considering, too. Light, medium, or heavy. Or unarmored and let your guts feed the wildlife for all I care."
|
wiqr
|
RosenrotEis
|
2024-08-14 20:33:18
|
2023-02-27 08:05:36
| 31 | 20 | null | null |
1es40qy
|
11ctaxn
|
[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.
|
His long green hair suggested the natural world, or perhaps some little part thereof, but he dismissed that with a chuckle and a wave of his hand. When children brought him flowers and leaves, he accepted them gently, but then put them aside the moment they turned round. Some of the adults thought he might be a god of performance, since he always wandered by the city games, or perhaps he oversaw gambling or play or some other such thing. No amount of money sat well with him, though he accepted it with amusement, then promply handed it to the nearest person.
Charity, perhaps? Humility? He gave away all his gifts. And yet, alms didn't capture his heart.
Finally, we gave up trying to determine his nature and watched him abide with us over generations. He never offered his power, but he never took from us, either. The priests couldn't place him, and neither could the archivists, so there he was, unnamed and unregarded. The city changed leaders, and changed tribes once or twice, but he never changed at all.
It had to be something awful, a few of us decided. Maybe he was tarred with a heinous domain? Something like slaughter? But we knew the god of battle and the god of the farms and abattoirs. Criminals didn't flock to him, either. He looked so peaceful, and he never harmed anyone, and he merely wandered through our gatherings and down our streets and coexisted.
War came when he was still among us, and he did nothing to help nor harm either side. Such is the way of gods, uncaring until properly invoked? Still, his presence was a constant, a rock, something that we could cling to as simply an unchanging fact. There is comfort in stability...perhaps that was his role.
The war subsided into our loss, and the Ilurian Empire took over, posting their guards at our street corners and forcing us to pay tribute to the governor assigned over our region. Our rebels plotted, our citizens quietly sneered, and quiet resentment took root.
He was there when the first rock flew.
It was such a stupid little thing, a kid flinging a stone at a guard's face as he marched out of his barracks. The bruise on the guard's brow was nothing compared to the beating he laid on the child's back, pinning him with a foot between the shoulder blades, hurling down the cat o' nine tails with impunity. Blood stained the street. The boy crawled away in pain.
A smile tweaked the corners of his lips.
Riots burst like flames from the smoldering ash of the war's remains. Soldiers kicked in doors to find revolutionaries, dragging them into the street and sometimes beheading them right there and then. Rebels set fire to the barracks, killing a dozen men and half-strangling more.
He was there when the gallows went up, and when they burned down, and when the Imperial Cavalry arrived, and when the horses were poisoned. Everywhere we fought, he was there. Everywhere we were slain, he was there.
Chaos, then? Our last priest fell to his knees at the quiet god's feet. "Please, tell us why," he begged. "Is this your doing? Did you want to see us burn? Can't you help us? Does our death please you?"
He shrugged, his smile deepening. "No, it does not."
"Then save us!"
"I will not."
"But why? Please! What can we do for you? What sustains you, that you stay here but don't ask for anything?"
The curfew bells rang, and the guards herded people into their homes, and the green-haired god laid a hand on the priest's shoulder and guided him back into the chapel before they could be seen.
"Not all gods require faith," he said, lighting a candle and pressing it into the priest's shaking hands. "I survive merely by your actions. I don't need worship. You worship me by *being human.*"
Skittering behind him like a nervous cat, the priest clutched the candle close. "So you're a god of...people?"
For a long time, the green-haired god sat next to the altar and tilted his head, listening to the guards yell and the people snip and snap in return. When finally the doors had closed and peace reigned again, he took a long breath and sighed, as if letting out the energy of the day's events.
"I survive by that most fundamental human thing: that which separates you from each other."
"Hate?"
"Hm. No, not quite." He brought a hand to his smooth chin, and his eyes lit a jealous, venomous, acerbic green. "I suppose I am the god of *tribalism.*"
The priest shielded his candle as if a cold wind had blown through.
"Yes. I am Virion, the god of tribal belief. The concept that some of you are better than others, and that you will fight to prove it. That you will compete with each other. That the outside is evil, and the inside is good, or perhaps that the inside is your friend, and the outside your foe."
"So you're the god of groups of people just...*slaughtering* each other? Racism? Wars of ideology? What?"
"Oh, no, no." Virion took the candle gently and lit a brazier, offering brighter and more stable glow. "I am also there when you play games. When you fight team against team, for good or for ill. When iron sharpens iron, I'm there too. You simply see the worst of competition and tribal conflict in war."
"And you don't need followers, because--"
"Because," he interrupted, "you *cannot* separate this from yourselves. Were it not for me, you would be lone wolves scrabbling in the dirt for your next meal. Cooperation is all there is. Competition is a natural result."
"Then can you please take away your nature from us? Do the gods have to see us as nothing but some...some dog and pony show? Do we amuse you too much for you to withdraw your influence?"
"You would kill me?"
The priest jerked back and fell silent.
Virion laughed lightly, though it had a grating hoarseness now. "Many have tried, but you could sooner sever your own nature than kill me. After all, I remember my birth. You came before me. You are why I exist. I merely perpetuate your own being. You sustain me."
Thin lips moved quietly as the priest contemplated his options.
"You may try, if you want." Virion bent his head toward a sacrificial knife, resting in its bronze sheath next to the altar. "Cut my throat, little human. Save your species from itself."
Whatever he did that night, the next day, Virion was back with us all as the city rose with the sun, ate breakfast under the eyes of the Ilurian Guard, and went about their business. When asked about the gash on his neck, he merely said, "These things happen. I'm quite all right."
The priest, though, left his chapel that day, and we have never seen him enter again. When pressed, he murmurs that his faith has never returned. He has a certain hatred for the gods now...and I believe that I, at least, know why.
|
The High Pantheos are assembling. There are ever so many gods and ever so many things to be a god of. They quarrel with each other constantly like celebrities and compete with each other for attention like influencers all with one goal, one purpose, to be worshiped.
You see, that’s what sustains us, the Panthekir, the “gods” of the universe. Really we’re what you humans would call interdimensional telepathic multi-forms. “Monsters” if you’re feeling cheeky. “Aliens” if we tunnel across one of your borders…which we aren’t going to do…because we have spaceships. I guess you’d call us “aliens” if we pulled up in one of those too, but it’s beside the point.
The HP is a figuratively fluid body of Panthekir who have achieved the greatest number and/or most fervent believers. Each time someone calls any of the dozen or so names each of us is allowed to go by per world we invest in, the corresponding Panthekir racks up glory points. Temples provide a huge boost, especially if it's used daily.
Some, like the one you’d call Pan, god of the natural untainted world, is still around but faded away as peoples across the universe increasingly favor the one your stories call Hephaestus, god of forges, technology, and industry.
Indeed Hephaestus has nearly overtaken the one you call Zeus, though you speak of him as Odin, Wodin, and God with a capital G sometimes. He is the god of wisdom and creativity which are held in high esteem across known space and time.
Like I was saying, there are ever so many Panthekir, a whole species actually, and sometimes one slips through cracks, goes unnoticed for millennia. That one is me, and I’m currently in shackles being tried by the High Pantheos as a traitor.
Why? Because they found that I have exactly 0 followers. No one howls my name into the dark night when wolves are closing in. No one calls on me when their computer screen freezes or they need advice or they want a girl to fall in love with them or at least give them a bj. No one, and yet I exist.
They’re also wondering how such heavily charged and powerful beings such as themselves could’ve missed my presence for literally ten thousand years.
“Mirabald Envestis,” Enwaric (our name for Odin) used my real name as well, “You are here to answer for the crime of walking amongst the gods while you are not a god. How do you plead?”
“How do you know that I am not one of you?” I answer.
Enwaric looked left and right at the assembled HP then turned back to me, “You have no followers. I don’t see a single name calling you in your entire existence. You must be a leech, a parasite posing as one of us and feeding off our following.”
“Not guilty,” I reply.
The High Pantheos laughed uproariously at this. I knew what they were doing. Like I said earlier, Panthekir sustain themselves with the attention of the various terrestrial species of the universe. They do the same with their own kind. This whole trial was their version of Judge Judy. Justice for entertainment. Their conclusion was foregone. “Justice” was a foreign concept to all but Athena, who looked mulish, but remained silent. Clearly she’d been overruled by Enwaric.
I’ll give them something to entertain themselves with.
“Oh by the way, how is Nela?”
Enwaric’s head, which was thrown back in a laugh, suddenly snapped down and fixed me with a look of surprise and horror. It was gone a fraction of a second too late. One of the other Panthekir, who by the way, had all adopted the human form since they liked it best, looked over and glared at him.
I smiled. Hera was not the goddess of Jealousy, that was Aphrodite’s job, but my god Hera could still FEEL the emotion and was putting it out in waves right now.
“Who’s Nela?” She demanded of Enwaric.
“Oh uhh, no one, she’s no one. I don’t know what Mirabald is talking about.”
Hera’s eyes were simmering with heat, “Oh I know, you’re on one of your nymph benders again.”
“Am not!”
“Are too! Ohhhh, just you wait until I get my hands on that little whore!”
The two gods battled back and forth with words, and I flicked my eyes to the right. My plan was working. Teasing the great ones is an incredibly rewarding pass time. They fell on Aphrodite. She was giddily looking at her score on a holopad. She could never match the sheer breadth of Enwaric’s influence, but cat fights between gods, especially highly public ones like this, gave her huge boosts.
Aphrodite was the only god who knew what I was, mostly because we’re so similar, but also because she’s the only one I ever told. She captures the essence of my desire and our energies work well with each other. Call us partners in diversion.
I told you we are multi-forms, right? Who do you think Nela really is?
Think about it, haha.
What time is it? Can you check your phone for me?
Oooh! Look at that, that person who left you on read yesterday finally texted you back. Ask them out!
But first, pop open that notification that just dropped from the top of your screen. It’s probably reddit letting you know about something SUPER important. IMPERATIVE, actually, that you click on it right now and give your anonymous opinion.
Man, you just death scrolled for fucking two hours, shame on you. But hey, there’s a simple solution. Get an analogue wrist watch. If you’re checking your wrist for the time it’ll be so much easier to stay off your phone.
Why don’t you pop open your amazon app and shop for a good one at a great price?
Oops, it’s been another two hours and now you’ve gotta spend another two sorting through all the cyber monday crap you popped in there but can’t afford.
Haha, poor person. Maybe you should pull up indeed and go through another depressing three or four months looking for a better job.
Bling! Somebody on a youtube ads wants to offer you an opportunity to make millions in three months.
It’ll go great, I promise. Just don’t call on my name or you’ll never get there.
Can you guess who I am?
\---------------------------------------------
check out r/inspiredshortstories for more!
Novel is publishing to [wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/user/AlaricStargazer) in 2-3 parts daily!
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Alcoraiden
|
Sir-Planks-Alot
|
2023-11-28 17:58:36
|
2023-11-28 15:32:54
| 208 | 96 |
kb58dmh
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kb4kiia
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185vjhr
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185vjhr
|
[WP] You have 24 hours to hide a flash drive, you can hide it anywhere but near limitless resources will be used to try and find it over the course of the next few weeks and if you fail, you die. If the flash drive is damaged from hiding it, you die.
|
Let's see, a flash drive. It's pretty small and made of durable plastic, but I don't think I can just toss it into a lake without putting it inside some protective casing. Also, assuming that I'm supposed to be able to retrieve this thing, just hurling to the bottom of Lake Ontario is not an option.
It's raining to beat hell right now, and winter is on the way. I think that would be ideal for just burying it somewhere in the woods and covering my tracks. Even if they search it, this thing doesn't have enough metal to set off a metal detector. There's no proxy technology that can find this thing. So whoever is looking for it would have to have some highly advanced ground radar and someone who is a super tracker to have a chance in finding it.
So I go into the woods, leave my phone at home because it's going to have a reference to where I've been. Bring a compass. I got an engineer's compass. I should go somewhere I'm at least a little familiar with so I have a chance of finding this thing again. If I got 24 hours I'm assuming that means I have 24 hours where I am not being observed. I should take my bicycle, the car might have an anti-theft tracking system. Aside from the flash drive, bring nothing digital. Analogue the whole trip.
A few miles off the beaten path should be enough. Do not bury the device right next to a landmark. Choose a landmark, pick a random direction using the compass as a reference, then pick a random distance from it.
*Memorize* the location. Do ***not*** write it down. Wrap the device up in some plastic to protect it from the elements. Do not dig a giant hole. A huge amount of disturbed dirt is a big giveaway. A few inches down, just enough to protect it from the elements should be enough. There's a shitload of leaves coming down right now, it should do a good job of covering up a small burial site.
Other than that, just hope whoever looks for it doesn't resort to torture.
|
A flash drive? *Lucas asked, confused as to what the flash drive had to do with him* What do you want me to do with this? I’m not sure I understand. *As quickly as they had appeared, the person who handed Lucas the flash drive was gone, a single piece of paper left in their place.* Wha-…. What the fuck? *Lucas picks up the piece of paper, and the writing on it follows; [You have 24 hours to hide this flash drive, it can be anywhere, but, if the flash drive is even slightly damaged you’re dead. An almost limitless amount of resources will be used to try and find it. DON’T even think about trying to find out what’s on it.] Once Lucas had finished reading the note, it simply vanished into thin air.*
*Lucas was speechless, unable to comprehend what he had just read* What am I supposed to do now?! *Lucas shouted into the air, mad, but also slightly curious.* {Some backstory for y’all} *Lucas works as a lousy software engineer, and doesn’t pay too much attention to his job. He lives in a modest single bedroom apartment, and mostly keeps to himself. He has few friends, and doesn’t go out much, all his past relationships ended horribly, and Lucas is starting to become lonelier and lonelier.*
*The person had seemingly just appeared in Lucas’s apartment, and Lucas was baffled as to how they appeared to just disappear into thin air.* Well… what do I do now? This surely has to be some kind of prank or something…right? *Lucas thought, starting to doubt himself.* *Lucas walked over to his desk, and plugged the hard drive in, not caring about the “Don’t look” rule the mysterious figure had given him* Alright, now to see what’s o- WHAT THE FUCK?
|
CatboyInAMaidOutfit
|
Mr_fishman789
|
2023-10-22 18:18:25
|
2023-10-22 08:06:50
| 14 | 10 |
k5zwa5v
|
k5xwqpe
|
17dhvmm
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17dhvmm
|
[WP] You made a deal with an ancient demon with the cost being your firstborn son being taken. You've given birth several times so far, and all of them have been girls. The demon is getting more and more annoyed with this.
|
I watched, as everyone around me froze.
It was the birthday of my 8th daughter, little Lily, she was turning 10, so we wanted to make a big party.
Now, a man in a red suit, black tie, and a ridiculous red, round sunglasses walked up to me.
He pointed towards my family.
"You think it's funny?", he growled.
I shrugged.
"You think I can control it?", I rolled my eyes, and poured some punch for him.
He took it, thanked me, and drank.
"Listen up, woman.
We had a deal, happiness, health and strength in exchange...", he started.
"My firstborn son. SON.
I had 8 daughters as of now, and frankly, no matter how good the sex is, I am done with having kids.", I said.
He stared at me, and shook his head.
"That's why I am here.
You can't give up, otherwise I will end up losing!", he said.
I shrugged.
"Shrug? You shrug?
Do you know I feel every single time you get pregnant?", he said.
"Eww, gross.", I said.
"Yeah...
And imagine my reaction when every single fucking time it's a girl that is born?
Again and again?
Being aware of how you humans don't really want 10+ kids in these modern times, knowing that soon...I will completely lose the chance of having the deal honored?", he roared at me.
Again, I just shrugged.
He roared, and flipped a table...which now was floating slowly, and gently in the air.
I took the table, and put it nicely back in its place.
"The deal was goddamn clear, demon.
Firstborn son.
There was no clause that said: "You shall get pregnant as many times as you need, for a son to be born".
If I wanted, I could have gone childless, and it would have been within the terms of the deal.", I said.
"That's why I threw your goddamn soulmate at you!
I knew you couldn't resist him!", he roared.
"Oh, you did that?
Thanks!", I said, which made him angrier.
He roared, as the earth split in two, and he disappeared.
Time returned, and I watched as the kids had fun.
Watching them smile, and hearing their little giggles...made me want another one....
|
CW: >!Transphobia, abandonment!<
Sigil just right, offerings in place... Time to fulfill a bargain. David chanted the demonic tongue, fear and brimstone swelling with every repetition. The sixth brought a flash of sulfur, and a surprised-looking demoness. A naked one. "Hey, fuc... You!?"
"Me," David replied coolly. "Here to complete my end of the bargain we made fourteen years ago."
The demon - he refused to utter her name except in the chant of summoning - flared some clothes into being. "Your wife's not pregnant. You have five daughters. Why am I here? Got better things to do than catch up with boorish people."
He ignored the glare. "I have five daughters. *She* doesn't agree." David reached behind him, pulling his eldest daughter, aged 9, into view. She stumbled, and ripped her arm out of his hand, but he grabbed her by the shoulder and squeezed. "Says she's a boy. That would make her..."
"Your firstborn son. Yes. A bargain for fertility made, a bargain for fertility kept. I will be taking him." The child disappeared and reappeared inside the summoning circle. "What's your name?"
"Her name's Alice." "Don' 'ave one."
"Well, sweetie, my name's Lily, and we'll figure out a name for you. We've got a whole book of names. That sound good?"
"Y... Yeah," the deluded girl said weakly.
"Great! Now, I'll be along in just a moment. I need to... Talk with David Joseph Daniels here."
Chains of fire and ice gripped David's heart.
-/-/-
Always fun when you read a prompt just before bed and inspiration just hard strikes. David can go suck an egg, though. (Or worse. Lily can probably do worse.)
|
TheWanderingBook
|
Aminti
|
2024-07-22 03:40:39
|
2024-07-21 22:41:56
| 15 | 11 |
lebwg3y
|
leaolt6
|
1e8qs51
|
1e8qs51
|
[WP] Write an angry ending monologue of someone in a small town who tried to warn the people something bad was going to happen, no one listened, and now people are dead.
|
Blast the mockery, and blast the jokes.
Fuck!
As a warrior I have mocked the wizards for their shoddy robes, and colorful wardrobe, and weird hats.
What the hell were all those drawings, and colors gonna do anyway?
Well.
Blast it all! Today I almost died to a newbie wizard and everything is so goddamn clear.
The colors of the robe?
Well they are elementally enchanted, and the color represents the element.
Green = wind, fire = red, you get it right?
So this dude's blue robe just conjured water orbs hitting me with pressurized blasts if I tried to attack him.
If that wasn't enough, dude's pointy hat lit up, and the symbols started casting spells on their own!
Fucker was playing the flute as I tried to survive his passive abilities!
And if that wasn't enough, the robe was also good at hiding things.
Orbs rolled out of his robe, which promptly transformed into puppets, golems, and creatures.
I think I fought for hours, before I actually managed to get to the wizard.
It got so much worse.
"Oh, a warrior that actually trained to this point.
How interesting..." this young wizard said, before his robe changing colors.
IT CAN CHANGE COLORS!
Fire waves, sharp wind blades, lightning strikes hit me, as the robe was switching colors like a chameleon.
All the while the symbols travelled from the hat to the robe, with varied spells being thrown at me.
A broken hand, completely charred body, and broken sword.
Before me lay his unmoving body, robe colorless, and the hat simply having disintegrated.
I get now why the wizards "rule" the world.
Holy crap are they full of trickery, and know a lot.
Like this fella had elemental, chaos, summoning, and alchemy magic being thrown at me like it was nothing.
And it was clear that he was a newbie.
For one, he was young, and another sign was that his hat was small...
Taking my proof of having killed him, as I was hired to do so...I left, but I promised myself to never listen to stereotypes, and to use the rewards for further training.
And maybe, I shall try learning some magic myself, as it's just too good, to be left unused.
|
Humans are foolish and ignorant of the dangers of the world. They think they are invincible. They take life for granted. They take and hurt and expect kindness in return.
I believed in humans. I did. When the coven head came home with a malnourished, terrified, dirty, and hurt human boy, couldn't be more than eight, I knew the small town would face the wrath of my coven. I was furious too, humans are so cruel, they leave their own fledlings to die... Yet I still went and warned them.
They laughed, called me a freak, child of the night, a *monster*.
They thought I was joking. Ungratefull little ants, destined to suffer the wrath of my coven. They begged to me, when my people came seeking death, amusement, *a meal*. They promised me the stars, they cried and whined and screamed.
After the sun came up, the last of the coven retreated to tend to their duties. The coven head and his family gained a new fledling. There was a lot to do.
They called me, but I wanted to look for survivors.
This is what the ignorance of these fools led to. This is their karma, the Goddess' punishment for those who had hurt their own. Their blood painted the ground. It was a messy feast. My stomach was full too, I got a couple of men who tried to flee. They tried to sacrifice the weak, the children.
A lot of new fledlings had to be taken care of, now that I think about it.
Now that the root of the infection was killed, new flowers could bloom, healty, and beautiful. And it was my duty to rid the world of the dead weed, so it can never blossom again. The flames of my fury and spite slowly died down as I sent my children, souls who couldn't find peace, to look for new siblings, children souls, lost in the massacre of the feast.
Humans are foolish and ignorant.
Vampires are not.
|
TheWanderingBook
|
fanonimus99
|
2025-01-17 16:09:41
|
2023-01-27 07:14:55
| 49 | 14 |
mwgk0md
| null |
1l5fpyt
|
10mcrb4
|
[WP] All children under the age of 13 vanishes with only a note left behind that says "Due to humans not caring about the future of their young, all children have been relocated. If you truly love (Name), you will not intervene as we restart your race. -Signed 'The Protectors'"
|
We called them the "Lost Generation". A whole cohort of children from newborns to the earliest teenagers, vanished by some extraterrestrial race. First was the grief, and the horror; then came the pure, white-hot rage. Capitalism and religion crumbled under the weight of collective trauma, the United Nations growing in scope and authority as regressive religions and billionaires were crushed under the weight of a humanity that had been permanently scarred. Our greatest minds looked both at the earth and the stars for any telltale signs of where these supposed 'Protectors' had taken our *Lost Generation*, but such a search was nigh fruitless.
However, whatever had taken a chunk of humanity had not accounted for the stubborn resilience of humanity; instead of a mass aversion to children, humanity began anew with another burgeoning young generation; protected and monitored at all times, taught to the utmost not only to be the brightest generation, but the most careful and vigilant. Science, ruthlessly persued to prepare for the presumed return of these 'Protectors', reversed many of the worst effects of Climate Change, while driving the development of even more devastating weapons and defensive technologies to protect Mother Earth. We had buried the *Lost Generation* as one would the dead, but we had not forgotten; for a majority of United Earth, whatever came back with the xeno menace that loomed in the stars wouldn't be welcome.
The United Earth Armed Forces had captured a scouting ship outside of Titan in 2204; inside, a pair of disgusting xenos that we realized belonged to the 'Protectors' race were found. Their little ship was a goldmine of valuable data, though the xenos stubbornly refused to reveal what had happened to the *Lost Generation.* Reverse engineering their sensor suites and stasis technology pushed our reach farther than ever before, and soon our own scouts began the search for the xeno race that had scarred us. We would find them, and avenge our Lost.
|
It has been two days since my world collapsed. They took them both, Charlie and Mindy.
I have not slept. The first few hours I spent driving around, looking everywhere out of my Truck. Their school - abondoned and quiet halls of concrete now only inhabited by pointless teachers. But they too, were nowhere to be seen. Their favourite playground, now with only junkies and teenagers. The audacity that I have to deal with them, now, of all the times. I kept searching, as any good parent would. But then. Then the proclamation came over the news…
My babies, taken from me. Ripped away from their parents. And who the hell are these protectors? I have never heard of them, they have to be some kind of new subgroup. But they have to work for *them*. They have half the country in their thrall, and they have got to be responsible for this too. And they will blame us, like they always do.
I came home a day ago now, and I’m just more angry. They blame us! That we don’t care! How dare they! They will pay and we will get our children back. We have gone too easy, allowed too much. We were too tolerant, but always told what we did was wrong. No more of this, we can be firm too.
The war will come. Us against them. For the fate of our children. They claim the protectors are amongst us, but we don’t have our kids. It’s mind boggling how they think we would fall for their lies.
Weeks later, the war was raging. That’s when they came. Messages, videos of our children, in what looked to be a place full of plants and hills. Water they told us the answer to the question we never thought to ask… that they were ok.
|
NicktheSlick130
|
asdplm
|
2024-09-04 13:01:14
|
2024-09-04 11:10:26
| 163 | 63 |
llgkyye
|
llg5yp5
|
1f8pbnm
|
1f8pbnm
|
[WP] You are 1 out of 50 people who participated in a human trial study for an "intelligence serum" that was supposed to boost IQ and other various intellectual parts of your brain. You are the only one who hasn't gone insane.
|
"They took down Carlos this morning."
"Damn. Looks like that tontine's mine."
"You guys had a Death Pool going?"
"It seemed like a good idea, after Angela ate her own face off. I don't know who started it. Probably Hannah. We all made each other the inheritors of our life insurance policies and left each other everything in our wills. . . last one standing collects it all."
"You know tontines are illegal, right?"
". . . you remember who you're talking to, right? Smartest sane person in the world? IRS won't ever find out."
"I don't know, some of those auditors are relentless. . ."
"Then when I get caught, I'll go to prison and give back the money. Doesn't make a difference to me. Not like I need the money anyway. What good is money in hell?"
". . ."
"Change of subject. Did Carlos leave a note or anything?"
"Yeah. The same type of note the others did. Long rant about seeing everything, understanding everything, not being able to stand it, wanting everything to stop. . . hoping for a bit of peace and quiet after he dies. Same as the others."
"That tracks. Matches my experiences, yeah. The problem with being the smartest sane person in the world is that once you realize what's actually going on, you can't. . . exactly ignore it any more. And that serum you've given us. . . increases cerebral activity. . . feels like I'm running a constant hamster wheel that can't ever stop."
"Have you given any thought as to why you haven't gone insane too?"
"Well. . . there's the rub. How do I know I'm not insane? I mean, I feel sane, but am I really? If you think about it, I'm continuing to exist in this hell of a brain you've put me in even after everyone else has checked out. Maybe I've got a masochistic side. Maybe I just decided years ago, after my wife took the kids, that if I've got a choice between being sane and dead and insane and alive, that I'd rather be the latter. Maybe it's because I've come to the realization that I'm not in charge of my own brain any more. My brain's the big wave, I'm just the surfer trying not to wipe out. I fight the wave, and I die. I let it carry me, and I live. Maybe the others just couldn't accept that they weren't in charge of their own brains any more. Couldn't ride the wave."
". . ."
". . . or maybe it's the weed. I'm up to 500 mg of edibles a day."
"Holy fuck."
"I've gained 50 pounds in the past year. I'm very tired."
|
We were supposed to be improved, all of us. But that's not what happened. To a one, we are all worse. When we signed up for this test, we were picked out of poverty. I had been arrested for being asleep in my car in a public lot when my house burned down, and then for arguing with the cops. The experiment was supposed to provide housing, for six months, at least, and my parking fines. So this seemed like a no-brainer, if you'll excuse the pun. A place to live, and an IQ boost? Sign me the fuck up.
We took an injection every week for six weeks. At first, the signs were good. Jones, the messy guy, started taking care of himself; he even picked up his toothbrush and started brushing. Alex, the woman who could not walk through a room without banging her foot on something, started looking at where her feet were actually going. We were all a little sharper, a little more focused. Lars started listening when you were talking. Our internal sense of time got better, and our external sense of awareness did, too, week by week.
But then things started going wrong about week five. Alex, who had previously started noticing the obstacles in her path, also started seeing things the rest of us could not see, and babbled incoherently about them at anyone who would listen. Things like pillars in the middle of the room. She still avoided tables, but she avoided the invisible objects, too; and she'd yell at you if you stepped "onto" one. Jones got obsessive about hygiene. He kept thinking he could never get clean after a lifetime of being lazy about it, and acted like he had to catch up. He'd wash his hands every hour, couldn't touch other people anymore. Lars had such deep depression that they couldn't drag themselves out of bed; the staff psychiatrist couldn't get them to explain why, but I think it's because they started noticing how fucked the world is.
Me? I'm fine. I just gotta go rearrange my belongings again, make sure they're still there. Totally fine... I will be after I finish.
|
ArgumentativeNerfer
|
prozacandcoffee
|
2023-03-08 17:30:55
|
2023-03-08 17:17:55
| 52 | 22 |
jbfdpa3
|
jbfbmri
|
11lqfxh
|
11lqfxh
|
[WP] The elven children have a ceremony to summon their spirit animals. Most get unicorns, phoenixes, fire salamanders etc. One kid ends up summoning a human, smoking a cigar and sporting a hefty shotgun.
|
In the olden ages, summoning a spirit was a ceremony to determine one's future. Our people's occupation, free time activities and even love life used to be heavily affected by the sacred spirits - familiars.
This age, however, is called the dark age. Half of the northern Nirnolan forest, Elvish homeland, is burning forever, haunted by the dark armies of the demon king. A familiar is no longer an extension of one's soul and life but instead a weapon to combat the ever-charging invaders. Our long-lived people's current life expentancy barely exceeds adulthood at 30 years, at which age a familiar can be summoned and an Elf can join the most vile, brutal war in history, where invaders from another world are commiting genocide on all species of this land to bring hell here and expand their power.
My name is Malvidius, and today I turned 30. I am a Wood Elf. My race of people is known to be better suited to guerilla combat thanks to our ability to blend with trees and foliage and our sight being adapted perfectly to such environment. I am terrible with a bow, my magic starts and ends at the most basic of telekinetics and I am a frail tiny man that can't even use a sword properly. This makes my familiar make no sense at all, because the way I see it, those are supposed to reflect us and our souls somehow.
So why then, when I drew the conjuration sigil and performed the ritual guided by the moon, instead of blue gentle light and a spirit of a rabbit or other rodent emerging, a bright red portal that looked like the gates of hell ramming open flared and a being stepped out almost twice as tall as me? With a green, insect-like carapace that I assume it wears as armor covered in red, demonic sigils and on its head a helmet of the very same carapace and a glass window, like a house would have, placed in the middle, cracked and with a strange stick as if made from paper and horrid smell of burn glowing bright orange at the end. Underneath a seemingly elven face forever bound to an angered expression of vengeful wrath. The being wields a strange staff that looks like two metal staves with holes hollowed out in their middle connected to a wooden frame.
As it emerged, I had little time to observe its form before it grabbed me by the ceremonial robe and pulled me closer to closely analyse me. Afterwards, somewhat dissapointed, dropping me on the ground. I scrambled to sit while it- he looked around, taking in the new environment he happened into.
"E-excuse me-" I asked, causing him to slowly turn his head towards me, radiating malice. "-a-re you by chance my... familiar?"
The being tilted its head slightly, but then, he grasped his staff tighter and muttered. "Demons... Want to kill demons..." This scared me, but also gave me some sort of assurance in that he was on our side at least. His continuing words were perhaps worrying, but also made me think that maybe this man could single handedly win our most terrible war yet. "Rip and tear... until it is done."
|
The teacher had left him alone she didn't say he was in trouble, but he knew that look. That was look Fa'bei'on got when he did something un elf like. She was probably sending a letter to his parents now. He was going to hear about this mishap for ages.
And it wasn't his fault he didn't write the stupid spell that picks out friendship companions. well it was a little his fault. He didn't want a unicorn because he didn't want to braid hair, birds always pooped on him, and lizards skin peeling off always Creeped him out.
But there was thousands and thousands of other things that should have come instead. Like a fire puppy or a kitty with wings. He would have been happy with a plain old fashioned otter.
He was so lost in his own head that the door opening nearly had a him fall out his chair.
It was Ms Summerfall Shadow Wind of spring.
The GuidanceGuidance teacher.
His day couldn't get worse.
"Círdan. I am here for a little talk. You aren't in any trouble. " She gracefully sat down. "Círdan" she took a long deep breath that looked like she was finding the right words. She seamed to settle on an approach. Then locked eyes with the young student.
"You know you can't fuck this companion right? You know its just magic shaped like a human. It will talk act and behave like a human untill it stubs its toe too hard . Then it will just poof away. " She rolled her wrist in the air. "Then when you summon another. It will be different one that answers the call untill it knocks it head against a door frame and that one poofs away. So On and on and on." She seemed oblivious to the shade of red Círdan was turning. "And while it extremely impressive you managed to summoned a complex creature such as a human. And we are aware children your age start having urges. It is illegal to have sex with illusions, summons as well as conjured creatures.
And if you are found to even attempt such and act you will have your magic Bound"
Círdan after what felt like a year and as red he was since she started he had to admit what he really wanted at the summon. "Ms Summerfall Shadow Wind of Spring, I wanted something that would permanently get me out of archery classes. It's my worst class I keep pulling the string across my arm. I was sick of it. So I thought I ask ask for , something loud, annoying to others. And make archery class redundant."
The Guidance teacher gave him a long long look over. With a deep breath she stood. "Sure you summoned a human. To avoid a class if that's the case you will have no problem explaining that to your parents, after they get our letter explaining we gave you the magic summons talk."
Círdan sighed his day got worse.
|
DarkKechup
|
saintash
|
2023-03-08 07:53:24
|
2023-03-08 04:41:01
| 156 | 68 |
jbdn45b
|
jbd69ym
|
11lckv0
|
11lckv0
|
[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.
|
"Hello Mr. Finch," says an older woman as she forces herself through my doorway. "It is so nice to finally meet you, I've been imagining this moment for so many years." She closes the door behind her and gives me the kindest, most motherly smile.
"Excuse me, ma'am. Do I know you?" I question her and she just smiles. "I will call the authorities, ma'am. This is private property." She laughs like I didn't just threaten her and hands me a battered roll of paper. Paper might be the wrong word, it was more like a pile of fused leaves.
"I just wanted to thank you, Mr. Finch. After the accident, I had so much time on my hands before I woke up. You gave me an entire lifetime, a lifetime full of happiness and love," she rambles, wiping a tear from her wrinkled, green eye. "You gave me so much hope and opportunity, the kind I wouldn't have gotten from dropping out of high school to take care of my mother." I'm now intrigued. Who is this old woman? I keep emergency services on speed dial, just in case she really has lost it.
"But you never answered my question: who are you, ma'am?"
"Why, I'm Sandy Butler, Mr. Finch. I'm sure you remember me."
It hits me. The years of long nights full of guilt and crying, long days visiting the children's hospital, the hours ticking by until she either woke up...or didn't. I had given up on her a year ago. "There's no way, you're just trying to mess with me!" I yelled at her. "Why are you playing with me like this? How do you even know that name?" I started sobbing.
Instead of responding, Sandy Butler just placed her battered book on my coffee table and collapsed. "Thank you so much Mr. Finch," she said, smiling at me before the life left her aged body.
Years later, after slowly forgetting about how I had to call the authorities on the dead woman in my living room, I returned to the book on my coffee table. I had never touched it, not once, since that day. I opened the book to a random page. It read like a diary, charting the romantic events on a particular day between a fairy and his human wife. I turned to another page, which dictated the proper preparation of magical mushrooms. I flipped through a couple more pages, most filled to the brim with poems, letters, stories, and the most peculiar of recipes.
I finally flipped to the first page.
My Life in Wonderland by Sandy Butler
Dedicated to Cooper Finch for casting me upon this wonderful world after my accident all of those years ago.
|
StoneBurner143
|
None
|
2025-01-11 21:39:55
|
2023-03-13 06:36:15
| 232 | 12 | null | null |
1hz0cf3
|
11pue97
|
[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...
|
To most of the public, the S-Class are the elite of the elite. The strongest heroes and most feared villains. But while most powerful young A and even B tier mutants get publicity equal to a Hollywood star, no one has ever seen a child S-Class. This has understandably led to various conspiracies ranging from the S-Class being biologically engineered by the government to them being aliens from a destroyed planet.
As an S-Class myself I can firmly say that's false, unless my dad meant something different when he said it was time for the talk. Anyway, the thing about S-Class is that unlike other mutants we don't have a set level of power. For instance, an F-Class pyrotechnic can only light up a candle or boil water at best while an A-Class can create fire swords hot enough to cut steal like butter. Meanwhile an S-Class mutant might not even be able to make a glass of water lukewarm or they could burn down an entire city based solely on how much blue they've seen that day. All S-Class mutations have a paranormal factor controlling every aspect of the ability from raw power to skill. That's the reason we keep ourselves hidden, for fear that if the truth comes out everyone would go out of their way to find and exploit our weaknesses.
This is why the government personally issues us false class rankings based on how much control we have over our abilities. Once we finish high school we get ranked by a judge and given a rank equivalent to a normal class unless we go beyond to which we receive the right to say we're S-class. Personally, I'd like to avoid that burden.
I guess I should explain my ability first. My mutation is known as Genie. It allows me to request three abilities every day which each come with a related weakness. For instance I could wish for fire breath but in turn I'd melt if I got hit by water. Or I could ask for invisibility but I'd become blind. Currently, I've found three abilities that work best for me.
1. Ability: Echolocation, Weakness: Blindness
2. Ability: Flight, Weakness: Paralyzed legs
3. Ability: Sonic Scream, Weakness: Can't lower my voice.
These three abilities put my firmly in the bottom of B-Class at my high school. I'm strong enough not to get picked on by A-Class bullies but also weak enough that no one makes me join their club. It's pretty sweet.
"Sup bat boy!" Anne calls out.
"It's The Human Bat" I sign.
Anne is near the top of B rank who I'd generally avoid but she's one of the only kids in the school who understands sign language so what can you do? Her ability Raptor gives her all the powers of a bird of prey such as super flight, talons, enhanced eyesight, and super kicks. She plans to debut as Owl Lass and offered me the chance to become her sidekick which I gladly accepted.
"Ready for the mock battle Andrew." She continues. "Those A-Class brats won't know what hit them."
"An over confidant pigeon and a flying mouse" Gale shot back with a gust of wind, hearing Anne's remark as she walked by.
"Well excuse you. I'm an owl thank you very much. Over confidant pigeons are what I have for breakfast."
"Yeah yeah. No one asked for the taxonomy lesson. Just know the skies will be ours during the battle" Steven replies.
"Is every flying mutant in this hall way?" I sign.
"Uh, you should watch out for us too." Pedro intervenes, two other C-Class flyers behind him.
"Looks like it." Anne signs back smirking.
"Ok enough everyone." Leyla shouts from the ceiling she's walking on. We'll all see who rules the skies tomorrow.
None of us knew how right she was that day. Sadly, it wasn't the only thing we learned.
Part 2 coming soon.
|
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.
|
N-ShadowFrog
|
Faendan
|
2023-01-20 03:43:38
|
2023-01-20 03:41:05
| 55 | 32 | null | null |
10gh68v
|
10gh68v
|
[WP] A Zombie Apocalypse in which the zombies are capable of speech
|
I don't know who's crazier, the mysterious male voice who insisted he was the biggest fan of my book over the phone, or me, who agreed to meet him to sign the book in question.
For the record, I've never published a book in my life. Or stepped out of the big city until today.
I'm now in a quaint fishing town, sitting on a bench, looking out for a guy who would be wearing a red cap like some kind of blind date, half-pondering just what sort of book I was going to sign for shit and giggles.
Tentacles slithered from behind to squeeze my shoulders. A book with a picture of me sipping on some eerie green muck in a wine glass floated from above to land on my lap, a pen pressed onto the book's spine by sharp teeth.
"Hello Mr. Walsack, I'm so glad you're here. Could you please sign on my copy of the Necronomnomnom? Biggest fan of your peat bog-standard, slime-covered, non-Euclidean dessert recipes! Dunwich Sandwich, Chocolate Mounds of Tindalos...My favourite has got to be the squamous, tentacled The King in Jello. It goes well with the Nog-Sothoth."
My stomach churned as my head turned ever so slightly to peek at whatever tentacled monstrosity lurked behind me. A sigh of relief escaped my lips when a mostly human face greeted me, wearing a red cap like he said he would, though it did little to address my concerns of being swarmed with pale tentacles.
As if the eldritch god just read my mind, the tentacles slithered down the bench and away from me. The pen peeled itself away from the book's teeth and glided into my hand.
I imagined myself at the book signing of my favourite fantasy author and did my best to mimic his tone. "I'll sign right on the title page. Should I make it out to you? What's your name?"
"Just Elvari will do, thank you."
"Er...sure. So how did this book become a thing?" I asked, flipping through the pages to see an introductory page that was a perfect fit to my morning...followed by the puntastic dredge of faux eldritch recipes and D&D notes I wrote with my best friend Hal when we were just teenagers playing Call of Cthulhu. "I never submitted this for publishing."
Or even considered that our nonsensical Lovecraft puns on recipes would make for actual desserts an actual eldritch god would follow and eat.
"I was just messing around when I wrote this...Elvari? Did you actually get ingredients like goat's blood, werewolf bone or ectoplasm?" This was a time to get worried, especially since I had sprinkled "a pound of human flesh" in a few recipes as a sick joke.
"I purchased most of the ingredients from The Witching Hour. Its a lovely little ingredient shop by a small coven of witches. They do online delivery. Are you telling me you've never actually tried any of your recipes?"
"...No, I never..."
"I just happen to have brought a box of Great Old Buns to share with you. It would be great if you could comment if I did a good job mostly following your recipe."
Uh oh. I'm pretty sure that one has a pound of human flesh in the ingredient list.
"Don't worry, I wouldn't force cannibalism on you, one of the witches recommended a very good substitute for human flesh. She called it 'long pork'."
u/ballrus_walsack its your cookbook!
[I am in no way affiliated with the writers and the publisher, but the Necronomnomnom is a real book.](https://www.amazon.com/Necronomnomnom-Recipes-Rites-Lore-Lovecraft/dp/1682684385)
----
[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/)
|
June 15 2023
Frederika Iowa
I have always been facinated with the idea of alternative histories. Single decisions, sometimes fate or sometimes destiny, but responsible for effects that last hundreds or thousands of years.
For example; If Alexander Hamilton had accepted the shitty deal that would have shifted our nations capitol from New York City to some god forsaken swamp in Virginia, would Michelle Obama (R-IL) be our president today?
Or if Hitler had not overdosed on Benzedrine in 1942? Albert Speer would never have taken over the Natzi party and lead them to victory in Europe.
There was a popular internet meme back in the day. It read, If no one from the future comes back to stop you, is it really a bad idea? And now, here I stand, on the eastern bank of the Wapsipinican River, holding the future.
Or maybe it was the past? At least the part for Kyle. My new friend was short. Maybe only five foot two. Slicked back hair sat atop an almost too round head. Almond shaped Pale blue eyes that looked vaguely like they came from a SciFi movie. He held in his hands, a book. To us it looks like a tablet. No fancy holographic projector. No VR capabilities.
On the front was a full color edge to edge display screen that was touch responsive. The reverse side was a matt silver cover with a sticker. Property of the Des Moines Public School System.
" I'm sorry. You said this is part of a field trip?" The words stilted and studdered like a young tv presenter forced to go off script.
The boy, I'm assuming he was a child rather than an adult, appeared impatient.
"Science fair. I said that already!" He ran his fingers through his red hair. It was at least the fifth time he had done so since her had apparently materalized besides me only a minute to two before. Self soothing maybe?
"You're going to have to slow down son. This is a lot to take in." When I was his age I hated being referred to as 'son'. It always came off as a pejorative. I couldn't quite work out what made me use it just now. Maybe I'm just getting old.
"Listen. I don't control the science of this. I only have a moment before I get pulled back to my own timeline." The boy shifted his weight from his left foot to his right. It was only then I noticed he had no shoes on.
" What do you need from me?"
"I need to know if this changes anything."
"Anything, like what?"
"Anything, anything." The boy stumbled like a child cought off guard by a small wave crashing against his body. The force of it causing him to momentarily loosen his grip on the tablet allowing it to fall to the rocky river bank. Then he was gone.
Just gone.
The felt charged, like it does before a summer thunderstorm. I couldn’t say if it had been like that the entire time or if it was an echo of the boy who had just been. The essence left in the wake of him being pulled back to wherever or whenever he had come from.
I had half expected the device he had dropped would have gone back with him. Vanished as silently as its owner had. It still lay on the bank by my feet. As I lifted it the screen lit, displaying the title of the current book.
History of the American Civil War
July 7th 2023 to April 4th 2027
Y. L. Donovan & Dr Gregory Drake
On the cover was me.
|
Tregonial
|
None
|
2023-06-16 07:08:15
|
2023-06-16 05:17:36
| 260 | 77 | null | null | null |
1rpj7l
|
[WP]The young teen hero has called you, one of the oldest villains crying, apparently from what you could hear, their parents killed their dog from not doing a chore and kicked them out since they are gay, and then they ask if they could live with you
|
Ultra Girl had cried herself to sleep in the big leather recliner in my breakroom. I gathered the cocoa mug from her and pulled the knit throw up around her shoulders. I would need to buy more hard candies, the girl had demolished my supply.
It really was a shame the things some folks do. Sure, I would rob a bank, or hold a city hostage in a heartbeat. But I was just getting my due from a society of pathetic drones.
I would never dream of treating my own flesh and blood like this. In my books that was crime far worse than all the ones I was about to commit.
I pulled the phone off its hook in the kitchen and checked my book for the number of one of my younger associates. Someone competent, but not particularly perceptive for this one.
"Yes, Blackjack, it's Dr. Devious. I have some work for you... yes, yes I can pay extra for the short notice... I need two people killed."
I listed off the details of the job and hashed out the fees.
"Remember Blackjack, don't make a mess or leave any evidence. And I do need the bodies... oh, also, there should be the remains of a dog on the property as well. I need those... no, I don't think I will tell you what this is about."
I hung up after getting a grudging ascent.
"Nibbles, go get the cloning vats fired up, and activate one of the Devious Bots. I'm going to need to send it out to complete a deal tonight."
The calico gave me the gimmlet eye before climbing out of Ultra Girl's lap and stalking off to do his job.
I rooted around through my small closet armory.
"Oh, I know you're here somewhere you piece of junk... aha, got you!."
I pulled out the heavy and clunky memory redactor. Quite a useless thing in most cases. No matter how much memory you erased, it seems like heroes always had some loving connection waiting in the wings to jog their memories right in the nick of time.
I wasn't worried about that in this case.
"Don't worry dear, just a little off the top, and you will wake up in your happy home, with your supportive parents and loving dog."
|
"Look, Phoenix, I *can* help you, but there's the fact that I'm a literal villain, and you're a literal hero. You'll be in danger if you stay with me, you know that right?" Elsie, also known as Circe, was just baffled. She wasn't even sure *how* the kid had even gotten her number, but she felt such pity for the girl. She knew what it was like, after all.
"I'll always be in danger, Circe. *Please*." Was all the young girl said, and despite the fact she was a villain, Elsie's heart broke, because she knew that this girl and her were so alike.
A sigh left Elsie's lips, and she glanced over to her wife who was listening in while she was cooking them dinner. Their eyes met, and her reaction said it all. "Okay kid, I'm coming to pick you up. Where are you at?" When Phoenix told her the address, Elsie smiled. "I'll be there in ten. Keep safe for me, yeah?"
"Yes ma'am." Phoenix whispered, and hung up, leaving Elsie to stare at her phone for a few moments.
"First Jackson, now Phoenix. You really get yourself roped up into protecting these kids, don't you Elsie?" Delilah smirked over at her wife who groaned and flipped her off, which only made Delilah laugh. Silence encompassed them for a few moments.
"I can't just leave them like that, you know that." Elsie finally spoke up, and Delilah's eyes softened.
"I know, love. I know." Silence again.
"I'll go get her, I love you." Elsie whispered, and Delilah smiled.
"Love you too." And with a golden flash, Elsie was gone from the living room.
***Dunno how to end this, but I hope this was an okay read for everyone. My second story on here!***
|
Mestewart3
|
TiredSoul97
|
2023-02-08 07:04:07
|
2023-02-08 06:01:52
| 181 | 101 |
j7oh59e
|
j7obw0z
|
10wiea9
|
10wiea9
|
[WP] “And what do you do with the children? Enslave them? Eat them?” “What? No!” The witch shouted, aghast. “I raise them, of course. If parents are willing to give up their children for greed, then imagine what they’d do to the child, given the chance to raise it?”
|
The witch looked me up and down, trying to decide if I was worth the effort, then she gestured towards her cottage.
"Come on, I'll show you", she said, already walking her old lady walk to the door.
I followed her, convinced I was making the worst mistake of my life, but too curious to think rationally.
Inside the cottage, which was noticeably larger than it looked from the outside, the witch dragged a very large chest from somewhere. I was entirely unable to see where she took it from. Then she opened it. The chest was full to the brim with letters. Cheap paper, expensive paper, parchment, vellum, rolls, small booklets.
"Letters what my kids send me" the witch declared, beaming with pride.
"All of those?" I walked up to the chest carefully, lest it grew teeth and legs. It did not.
"They're very good kids, raised well" the witch said, pointedly.
I extended a hand to the letters and looked up at her. She nodded.
They were exactly what she said they would be, the kind of letters you would write your mother. Letters talking about the mundane or world changing events of their authors, told in their most intimate voice, not events narrated to a biographer or confessed to an interrogator.
*“Mrs. Frogsworth, I did kill that dragon I told you about, I was scared but did it”.*
*“Hermelinda, the townspeople accepted my decision, and the restlessness is finally no more. I hope I made the right choice”.*
*“Meli, the crops aren’t what I was hoping for, but they’ll do. I asked the town’s witch for a soil enlivening concoction for next year. She was surprised that I knew what to ask, and I think she was happy to help. I told her about you and she said you sounded like a clever one”.*
Letter after letter reporting events which would make a historian drool, or snore. But between the lines all the letters said the same thing: “Are you proud? Am I being good? Am I worthy of the love you gave me? Am I a good girl even though I’m 50 years old and the mayor of an important trading town? Are you proud that even though I’m the leader of a bandit clan, I’m doing so while trying to follow the ethical principles you taught me? Warriors praise me, but through me they praise you”.
*“Momma, I fought a thing what came through a portal. Banged me up badly but I killed it”.*
I looked up at the witch.
“Is this letter from Jorgen of Basildar? The Warlord!?” My voice rose pathetically towards the end.
“Yep”, the witch nodded. “Dictated, mind you. Never could get letters into that boy, and I tried real hard. When I made my peace that his big head just wasn’t made for reading or writing, got him an apprenticeship with a blacksmith. Didn’t stick, of course, but gave him a proper foundation, something he can fall back on. And if you know of him, you know he’s the only warlord in all of the Four and a Half Kingdoms who can make and properly care for his own weapons”.
My jaw was probably halfway to the ground.
“He thwarted the Golden Magus by walking into the City of Pillars wielding a sword he’d made himself, and therefore was the only one with no curse or magic in it!” I said, and realized it had sounded like an objection.
“Well there you go. He wrote about having fought at the City of Pillars”. She said, nonchalantly, but beaming a little more.
She had raised Jorgen of Basildar. She had also raised a previous Grand Wizard of the College City of Ambergris.
“How old are you?” I asked, holding in my hands what looked like very old vellum, written in characters which resembled modern speech, and yet not quite.
“Oh I don’t keep count anymore”, she said, shrugging. She wasn’t that powerful a witch, my training was telling me. But maybe because she had been practicing a form of witchcraft which we hadn’t thought about.
“You raised Old Whitecap the Wise?”, I asked.
“Oh yes, called him Aman, one of the ones I got as a baby. Got him just before some cultists of something or other could get him first. Had to run that time, with him and two other children I was caring for. The cultists were angry. But I have my ways to hide”.
‘I bet you do’, I thought. I was getting the feeling my finding her may not have been because of my skills.
“He was a Grand Wizard”, I said.
“One of the grandest. Real sweet boy but very contemplative like. You could tell he was reading the world when he sat and stared at things. Even things what I didn’t know you could read”. She said.
“He lived over eight hundred years ago. He had been meant as a sacrifice to the Finch god. There are books saying he broke and then mended the world”. I said while carefully rolling up the piece of vellum, which suddenly felt so heavy, somehow more powerful than any spell I had ever held in my hands. From what I could read in the old script, he was telling her about discovering a new favorite soup, and promising to find the recipe and send it to her.
The witch sighed, lost in very old memories.
“That was just like him” she whispered.
I remained kneeling in front of the chest, deep in thought. I had been sent here to kill a witch which had been sighted in this woods, as commanded by the precepts of the Order of the Silver Sigil. But I was becoming convinced she had allowed me to find her. She may not be powerful in the normal ways of witchcraft, but if she hid from the Servants of the Finch god, if she had been alive for longer than eight hundred years… No, the most important question was, what would be of the Order if I killed her? Imagine Jorgen of Basildar learning that someone killed his momma. Imagine Old White Cap the Wise bursting from the soil itself as the legend warns he will, but doing so because someone spilt the blood of his “Froagye”. Imagine Crossroads banning any and all members of the Order from setting foot there. Imagine some nameless peasant who nobody will look at twice, but who was raised clever, walking into the Order’s palace pretty much unnoticed, and full of revenge.
I stood up slowly.
“Is it true that Old White Cap the Wise will return?” I asked her.
“It would be like him to. I hope he visits if he does” she said, looking deep in my eyes, knowing I had made a decision.
“What is Jorgen of Basildar like in person?” I asked next.
“Temperamental. Hot headed. He can love so much”, the witch said, smiling. “But he knows how to forgive, I made sure he knew how to before letting him out into the world”.
I tried to smile back, and then I began to walk to the cottage door.
“Did he ever send you that recipe? Old White Cap the Wise?” I asked while standing before the open door.
“He did. Drop by some time and I’ll make it for you”, the witch answered.
I nodded and walked out of the cottage.
|
Since i see others not quite meeting the prompt i shall be so arrogant and use this chance to share a chapter of my story i recently finish and currently refine (the part it fits the prompt the mc is known as The Witch of Alinguar)
I would have another fitting scene a bit earlier in the timeline where a priest threatens her if interest be
------
It was a nice day in Alinguar.
Alia had no commissions, her various allies reported only progress and there was nothing to do.
Which meant she could fully concentrate on the one thing she absolutely loved to do besides adventuring and exploring the world.
And that is why she got the large classroom stuffed to the brim with kids of all ages who didn’t want to miss out on her latest class, even if the homework would be annoying.
She smiled brightly seeing how they even had brought some more tables so everyone got a spot.
“Ok Kids, today we are going to discuss potions.” she began unfolding the prepared blackboard.
Eyes all lit up, Alchemy was usually reserved only for the advanced classes, this will be good.
Alia looked at a wide grinning boy “No James we won’t make bombs, not yet.”
He smiled a bit less wide, she had seen right through him.
“What we will be talking about is safety.” several groans answered her and she chuckled.
“I know you all know our stories, but you got some years before you can go on adventures. And so that one day you can tell your stories, we must think about safety.”
A girl raised her arm “Yes Julia?”
“We must be strong to be safe so nobody can hurt us again!” she smiled brightly.
“Exactly, but potions will not make you stronger.” another raised arm and she nodded.
“But Sis, potions do make strong.” “Yes Paula, they do, but they come with a price.”
The kids had questioning faces.
“Let me give you an example, a Potion of Strength will indeed make your muscles stronger and you could easily lift twice what you normally could, but if you are not well trained and there is no healer nearby then will your body be strained and your muscles tear.” she saw some of them understand.
“In an emergency you may need that, but if you would constantly drink them then your body will get used to it, and slowly over time your muscles will need the potion to function. Even worse, your mind gets too used to that strength, and then you will need them all the time. Yes Leonard?”
“Are potions addictive? Like alcohol and those bad plants?”
“Yes. Glad you paid attention in Steve’s class.” his smile brightened “That is also why you don’t learn about them until you are older, most of them are made with those ingredients, even a health potion can become too much, they contain sapweed, it soothes the pain of the healing, but too much and your mind goes numb and after a while you cannot feel anything except if you eat more of it.”
“You constantly drink these vials.” another girl spoke up without much wait.
“My potions should be a warning and they are different.” Alia just smiled at her.
“Because you need blood?” “Yes Dani. Drako’s like me are immune to most potions, and because I was a bad kid and nobody paid much attention to the side effects do they not work for me.”
“And you don’t want us to experience that problem?” Daniela was just too smart and curious.
“Exactly, learn from my mistakes so you can be better then me.”
“Nobody is as strong as you.” another boy pouted loudly.
“Kurn, you do not have to be as strong as I am, you have to be better in the ways you can be.”
She sighed, got herself a seat and sat down before them.
“I am strong so you can be safe, so you can be who you want to be. We do not expect you to fight monsters and devils like I do, I do that so you all don’t have to. I will be as proud of you if you sweep the streets as I will be proud of you if you wrestle dragons.” she smiled at them.
“Then why do you want us to be strong?” he had a different tone now.
“So you can protect yourself and those that matter to you. Remember how I found you?”
He nodded rather sad, he was a thieving street urchin that was being beat up by thugs.
“When I was found was I even weaker, I could not even stand on 2 feet, all I could do was scurry on all fours and ambush sleeping rabbits, who were all larger and stronger then me.”
The kids eyes went wide, none of them could imagine her being so weak and she chuckled.
“But like you I was found by strong and kind people.” “Your parents!” a boy exclaimed.
“Yes Paul, my parents, they took me in without any expectation, they taught me how to be strong, not in the hopes I will be stronger than them, but that I will be safe and happy. They taught me how to defend myself, and with that I learned how to defend others, to give you this chance.”
She smiled softly at the kids “Seeing you all be safe and happy is all I wish for. Some of you may become adventurers, maybe even healers or you just carry heavy stuff at the docks. It does not matter to us what you will become, only that you will be happy doing it without hurting anyone.”
“But what if someone tries to hurt us?” Kurn sounded worried about hurting no one.
“Then you will kick their ass and teach them that good does not mean soft. That kindness is not a weakness. Because a good person will just put the bad guy down, only bad guys gloat and wait.”
Her grin was now anything but soft and a few of the kids giggled. Some of them definitely knew what she meant, they remembered how mercilessly she dealt with the bad guys threatening them.
“Some day you may go out and explore the world, and some day you may find a kid just like you, you can help then, and you can do it without stealing and killing like these nobles do.”
A few of them had a grimace, most of their pain came from being born commoners.
“And when that day comes, then you can live honest and safe. Be an example to the world that we do not need to kick each other down, that we can share our strengths and be stronger together.”
The kids were now all silent and thinking, she was just smiling gently seeing how each of them digested these thoughts in their own way and began smiling at each other.
Then she got up and grinned her mischievous little smirk at them.
“Who wants to blow something up?” the kids all began to grin widely.
She still had prepared papers for them to learn, but for now they earned to see a few big loud explosions she also had prepared, and with that the class left for the training grounds.
|
Brad_Brace
|
LadyAlekto
|
2023-10-05 04:47:40
|
2023-10-05 00:03:50
| 91 | 25 |
k3j9z61
| null |
16zvo6l
|
16zvo6l
|
[WP] Doctor Evil is a campy Saturday morning supervillain and usually defeated by pre-teen heroes. Lesson included. He also once took down an entire alien armada by himself because they were ruining his fight with one of his pre-teen foes
|
Doctor Evil was dealing with the heroes again. As per usual, they were in some abandoned quarry. What was his plan again this time? Oh right! “And with the rocks I can find here, I can create a device able to control the minds of everyone.”
“That’s terrible.” Shining Star said.
“You won’t get away with this!” Furious Flame said, getting ready to hit him with some fire.
Before he could however, something hit the quarry where they were. The heroes were confused, and Doctor Evil looked up, using his glasses to look up.
He then activated his jet packs, and made it to Earth orbit in only 15 seconds. He then saw the alien fleet in Earth orbit, and activated his “Jetpack Sun Launchers!”
He then transmitted a message, “No one messes with them except me.” The alien fleet was then destroyed very easily quickly.
As Mr. Johnson got back home, having got ridden of his gear just a bit earlier. “Kids, I got some gifts for you!” Mary and Ash came on over. He gave his kids some necklaces.
Mary got a necklace with a flame charm, Ash a star one. “Dad!” Ash said, “You know we like the other ones.” He said as they swapped.
“I know, but I’m the only one to mess with my family!” He laughed. It was nice to see how much they had developed in every facet of their lives.
|
Doctor Evil was about to face off against the heroes, Joe and Lyle. The doctor looked how you would expect: a man in a lab coat. The two sides stared at each other in their fighting stances. "Wait just a moment", intervened Lyle. "Huh?", asked the villain. "I recently mastered a mind-reading spell, and I used it on you. I can see that you're holding back. Why?" "I...uh...", the doctor started. "D'aww, do you like us?", asked Joe affectionately. The doctor crossed his arms and faced to the side.
Two days passed since this exchange. The villain and the heroes were back to where they started: about to face off. "We could have just played video games together, but you had to be a sore loser", said Joe. "How are you two so good at the game?!", asked the doctor.
Lyle turned to the viewer. "See, even the meanest-looking people can turn out to be good people."
|
Impossible-Bison8055
|
ShySilverSurvivor
|
2023-11-12 19:37:18
|
2023-11-12 16:53:54
| 79 | 41 |
k8ytt8v
|
k8y33rc
|
17thadw
|
17thadw
|
[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.
|
“So, who are you?”
“Humans that left the earth a thousand years ago! We have returned!”
“Never heard of you.”
“We are the mighty 1% of the 1%.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Look, we’re rich. We had 98% of the earths riches. We still have our money”
“That currency belongs in a museum. It’s not legal tender”
“Then what about the deeds to our land?”
“Hold up, you went to space a thousand years ago and took the deeds to your land on the planet you were leaving behind with you?”
“In case we returned. We wanted our stuff back.”
“The government that validated those deeds fell over 900 years ago. They are no longer valid.”
“Then perish under the might of our power!”
“Sir, that ship is a thousand years old. My systems are telling me they have like three singularity power sources, only one of which is for weapons. The others are making your food or powering your engines. Oh, just noticed the five nuclear warheads. Big ones yes. Our asteroid interception system would take them down before they are in the atmosphere. Meanwhile we have three separate guns that fires neutron stars fix on you and you don’t have shields.”
“I thought your utopia was peaceful? Why do you have these defenses?”
“Oh, three hundred years ago some others left claiming they would be back to destroy us. They were just been sitting in the Ort cloud launching asteroids at us. We made piece with them two hundred years ago. It’s become kind of fun to watch our systems shoot the asteroids down. Big guns break it apart. Smaller systems clean up the rest. We loved the fireworks so much we do it and broadcast it once a month. Systems that do that are fully automated, and the reason we noticed you is they were preparing to fire, but it’s not scheduled for another two days. Had to actually scramble to figure out these old communication systems. Luckily there are some museums that keep old technologies working and do technical demonstrations. I’m not even the leader, I’m just a translator because people don’t speak English anymore.”
“So, you aren’t going to give us shares of everything?”
“Look, not saying it’s been perfect since you left, but it hasn’t been bad. What can you offer us? There just isn’t any need for any of you anymore. You have old money, old technology and nothing of value. Even your knowledge is a thousand years out of date. We can let you back in, and integrate you into society, but there is no special spot for you.”
“What if we don’t want to stay?”
“We can look into updating your ship and you can continue on your travels. I mean you’ve aged what, our calculations tell us five years thanks to relativity? Do the circle again and see if another thousand years puts Tera back in a spot where you are relevant? Or get you a terraforming ship, and get you set up on some lifeless moon or distant planet. We would have communication abilities and would support you. We have a list of some we think would be a good location. Normally people stay here and we send robots. But if you aren’t comfortable here, it’s an option.”
“Can we think about it a while?”
“Yeah. But not right there. We would suggest going to at least Mars. Should still be a pretty light show. Enjoy it!”
|
It's the night of the winter solstice and families are gathering together to celebrate Paxmas. This holiday was once called christmas in a time long ago when the earth was at its dying breath. Families received an emergency alert noting that contact was being made from beyond the moon as it was transmitting a distress signal to earth. The vessel which had a trajectory to land on the earth's surface was called ARC-NA01. After communicating with the wandering vessel it made obvious that they were humans. They described themselves as Intergalactic Americans' from the Andromeda galaxy. This was surprising news as everybody thought all human life that left this world for the stars were dead.
Traveling Kreeds passed transmissions to our founding settlers that all humans in the travelled star systems have perished from either starvation or hostile battles with other life in the star system. Since we were able to recondition life on earth it has become a natural protection zone within the Advance Intelligent Republic. As far as we know were the only known humans to be included in this from of centralized government. They even went so far as to make Earth the primary headquarters for the government to conduct policy of spreading peace in the universe.
With this key information has brought us all shock to hear our distant human relatives were alive was astounding! Under pretext law all incoming life must be interviewed and scanned for warrants and commutable diseases. After landing on earth the so called Americans' were detained to conduct interview with the leader of the ship. Passengers on board the ship were becoming restless as they were all eager to see the world they're ancestors left. After a month of interviews and examinations the passengers were all accounted for and scanned. A troublesome alert came back to the head organizer that was leading the exam. This was from a higher up that warned they were not to let any American back onto earth soil.
Noting the message the organizer Caesar took heed with the message and began to ask what the reason was for not allowing passage to earth. AIR responded back with another message about what happened with Earth long ago. They mention it was because of their ancestors greed. Earth was a sprawling polluted planet that was on the verge of death. People of extreme wealth were given a privilege to leave this dying planet to seek a new home in the stars. So governments separated wealth and life leave this world, and ultimately chose to leave with wealth. The founder of the new life calendar and new unified government classified those the star travelers as terrorist and banished them from this world. Seeing how many leaders back then and even today mention of this banishment we all follow the laws set by the founders to vow never to let Earth's history to repeat itself.
|
Mr_Woodchuck314159
|
god_1997
|
2023-01-11 02:31:46
|
2023-01-11 00:42:40
| 61 | 23 |
j3u90d1
|
j3ttdo4
|
108fkpv
|
108fkpv
|
[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.
|
The world seemed to explode in an instant, whatever this sudden change was it broke society.
Notifications rattled off on my phone across the room as the TV news broadcast covered the breaking news..only with drawings replacing the usual live-action news casters. "-some reports believe that what has really occurred was the so-called inner beauty of people is what is now visible, though scientists have yet to weigh in-" They showed some celebrities in before and after pictures, politicians, and even a well known CEO of major cosmetics brand speaking on how their sales have suddenly skyrocketed.
"I wonder how I look now" I thought aloud.
"Innermost self?" The idea bounced around the room.
I had never been one to get introspective, neutral to most everyone I dont even have a point of reference.
"screw it" I whispered sitting up and walking towards the bathroom. The mirror's presence held some new sense of weight as I approached it.
Glaring into the reflection, first from afar then closer and closer until my breath fogged the pane. It was...uninteresting...no significant creases in the face, no blemishes or beauty marks, the color was just as neutral a tone as you could get. Nothing stood out or drew the eye, even the eyes had become a bland brown from the hazel they used to be. My hair looked to be that generic brown trimmed short like you would expect for someone who had to dress for the office each morning. The rest of my new body was as well, just neutral.
I was a walking advertisement of normality. Uninteresting in every way. Generic.
Unsure of what I had expected, I returned to my room, took a seat again, checked my alarm, and went to sleep. After all, cant be late to the office tomorrow.
|
ArbitraryChaos13
|
JaxterSmith6
|
2023-02-23 01:26:35
|
2023-02-22 23:14:19
| 496 | 247 |
j9ml9n6
|
j9m2sab
|
119gjg2
|
119gjg2
|
[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.
|
My shrine has always been simply.
A small wooden structure, with a carved deer resting on it.
It's centuries old, and small, but it's still in perfect state.
Perks of being a Goddess' shrine, despite it being a bit...humbling, compared to the shrines and temples of others.
But I am happy, as I have one believer, that for decades, have been visiting it every single year without missing.
It's heartwarming and at the same time saddening, as I watched the little girl grow old, and turn into an elderly woman.
"Goddess, I am here again." I heard the little girl's, well she's an elderly woman now, voice.
The little carved deer lit up, as I descended onto the shrine.
But this time...she didn't smile seeing the deer lit up.
"When I stumbled upon this small shrine, I was lost, and scared.
The warmth given by the little deer was what kept me safe, and then the deer you sent to guide me out was what saved me." she said, and I listened.
"Over the years, many other religions have risen and fell in my town...but none could make me feel like how you did.
Thank you." she continued, as she bowed.
I felt...sad, for I could feel the life leaving her.
"T-today, is my last day in this world, and I hope...
I can continue worshipping you in the next one." she said, as her eyes closed.
For decades...this mortal worshipped me, allowing the forest to remain healthy.
For decades, she never missed a year of worship, being faithful and loyal.
The forest came to life around her, as the trees withered.
The woman's body changed, slowly turning back into that of a young woman.
"W-What's going on?" she muttered, looking at the shrine.
The carved deer lit up, sending my parting gift to her.
"Take care of the forest...my priestess." I transmitted, as half my divinity was given to her.
Her eyes lit up, and her entire body changed.
She became holy, and got even closer to nature.
"I shall slumber for a while, but don't worry, I trust you will do great." I transmitted.
The woman knelt, and prayed to me.
My last memory before going to slumber was of her promising me to become a Great Goddess, and that my forest shall cover the entire Eastern Continent.
With that...I felt satisfied, even if I hurt my origin divinity to give her a second chance...
|
It's already 2100. 2100... And My faith has already been so swiftly forgotten.
Crosses, they used to adorn My houses, everywhere across the world. Well now, they don't. My faith has been so forsaken and despised, that they don't even use "+" for addition in Mathematics anymore. They just use the word "plus" or the phrase "added to".
The last Bible was printed in 2073. The last hymn was sung in 2076, and the last praise song sung in 2079. Earth's last church officially ceased to exist in the same year, 2079.
Since then all worship of Me has ceased. No one remembers Jehovah. The Trinity. Yahweh. Jesus Christ the Saviour.
Except you, dear child. My dear dear daughter in spirit, Deborah Mary Samynathan.
I thank you for remembering Me. For still coming to this small alcove that has a small stone cross in it, to pray to Me and beg Me to have mercy on this increasingly depraved world. You give Me hope. Hope that among mankind, My beloved creations, good may still silently exist. Hope that this good may yet rise again one day.
And now this year, you have come to visit Me again. It is Easter. And I remember that now you are 21. You are grown now. You are an adult, and I think you are ready for My gift to you.
Take now, the strength of Samson, the power of Elijah, the insight of Paul, the righteousness of Moses, the integrity of Joseph and the triumphancy of Joshua. Receive, now, SPIRIT.
Now, go forth My faithful daughter. Declare My faith and lend voice to that which has been silent. I will go and wage war against Lucifer, who will seek to stop you. I know, this means that you may stop feeling My presence near you for awhile.
But do not fear, dear daughter. We will be separated only for a little while. Once the victory is won by the power of My blood, I will reveal myself to this fallen world. And you will be vindicated for your faith in Me.
Be blessed now, dear daughter, and go forth to victory.
|
TheWanderingBook
|
MC_Hans84
|
2025-01-14 05:33:31
|
2025-01-14 03:02:22
| 47 | 28 |
m71zeo2
| null |
1i0uoqt
|
1i0uoqt
|
[WP] You accidentally saved a princess from a tower. Now she won't stop following you, blabbing about "true love."
|
TW: Indirectly referenced child abuse.
“I don’t want to sound cold-hearted or cruel, but I’m just not interested.”
“But you slew the witch! You freed me from my shackles! The prophecies said that I was to find love with the one who freed me!”
“That’s not how it works.”
I had been arguing with her like this for hours, all the way back from the crumbling stone ruins she called the “tower” to my home town.
I had slain the mean old crone, and I didn’t feel the least guilty about it. She had been killing and kidnapping for ages—I could tell as much by the many bones and stolen wares around her hideout—and finally had picked the wrong traveler.
What I had never expected was the girl I freed. Poor thing.
“Come on, we’re going to need to have a long talk.”
I helped her to keep up as we neared my home. When I grabbed her hand she actually tried to gaze into my eyes and I realized she was trying to make some sort of special moment happen.
“Come on.” I sighed.
When we finally arrived I gently pulled her in.
“You’re back! Oh! Is… she okay?”
My husband greeted me at the door, trying to cover his shock at the condition of my companion at the last moment.
“Princess, this is my husband Jack. Jack, this is ‘Princess Helena of Bartheon’.”
“Hello… your majesty?” He tried, at least.
“I saved her from an old highwaywoman on the way back. Could you give us some time? I think we need to have a good long talk.”
“No problem dear. I can see that you do.” He nodded and moved past us to the door. “Princess.” He politely bowed on the way out.
For her part, Helena looked variously stunned, crushed, and confused as that exchange unfolded.
“Come on, let’s sit down.” I gestured to the simple wooden chairs in my kitchen.
The numb girl obeyed, I sat opposite her.
“I think this is the time to do a more proper introduction. As I told you back there, I’m Mary. Not Princess Mary, not prince, and not knight either. That’s Jack, my husband. I’m a messenger, or sometimes I guard merchants or other messengers. He’s a tailor. Why don’t you tell me a little more about yourself? What was being a princess like?”
It didn’t take a genius to know something was wrong here. I hoped to get to the bottom of it, maybe help her.
“Oh, I was kidnapped by the witch when very young. The witch cared for me from when I was just a child. She was horrible though, but I always knew that my true love would rescue me. She said so, and all of the legends said it was true. And, all of the selfish and nasty people who tried failed. So I knew it was different when I saw you!”
The words poured out of her mouth, I became increasingly ill as I heard them. I had suspicions already. It wasn’t hard to guess, but this confirmed them.
“Helena,” I tried to choose my words carefully “that witch, I truly don’t know, maybe she was a witch, abused you and manipulated you for a very long time. There is no “Kingdom of Bartheon”, no castle for us to ride off to.”
There never was such a place. It was an amalgamation of things from the storybooks that cruel old hag had used to delude this poor thing into keeping hope alive.
I could see that hope dying. If she was even an adult yet then only barely, but the fantasy world she had retreated into, and cultivated so well by her captor, was starting to unwind.
I needed to offer another anchor for that hope.
“But, I do love you. Just not in the way the storybooks said I would. And this can be our castle, and maybe I can help you find another beautiful knight to protect you and get you your own castle one day when you feel ready again.”
She was crying by the time I finished speaking. I lifted her from her own chair onto my lap. She retreated into my shoulder to sob.
“I know dear. It’s alright now. Come on, let’s get you a bath.”
I carried her back to draw water. I knew that I would never understand everything. Where had that crone gotten all of those torn but beautiful gowns and jewelry for her captive off of that old country road? Why hadn’t she sold her to one of her “rescuers “ already?
Maybe she really was a witch, I don’t pretend to understand everything under the sun. I mused on the case as I bathed that poor girl.
I supposed that at the very least, the prophecies came true. In a manner of speaking.
|
"But you saved me that means we are supposed to be together its just how it works sir."
"I have a wife I cant take another we've known each other since we were kids, ive known you for about five minutes and in that five minutes you tried to seduce me fifteen different ways, flashed me so that you could claim that now that ive seen you naked bust I owed it to you and have "tripped" into me knocking me down an causing me to accidentally touch your breast as I tried to catch myself, you are out of control and I am taking you back to the kingdom to get you out of my hair so I can go back home to my WIFE who I will love until the end of the gods."
"Fine. I didnt want to have to do this." *Thunk and a fade to black*
As you wake up you find that you are chained in a royal looking bedroom with no weapons and in royal garb rather than you common rags. Confused and scared you look around while trying to escape only to hear the door open and a crazy giggle from the very same princess who knocked you out but now she was covered in something red. "oh hes awake bring her in and bring the children too" She says as her wicked smile becomes more deranged, you soon see you wife being carted in with poorly tended amputations that were sure to get infected and cuts all across the visible parts of her body. "do you still love your wife now that she is nothing but a broken mass of meat? look at my handiwork, not bad right she'll be scarred forever if the infection doesnt take her first, ill do the same to you kids and I will make sure that they don't get any type of treatment at all unless you marry me after all we are meant to be for only my true love could rescue me."
You hear you wife try to say something but she couldnt without her tongue and she couldnt see you with eyes sewn shut so she was looking in the wrong direction to talk to you. *SLAP* "don't try to talk undesirable thats why I ripped your tongue out, so you couldnt try to talk your dear husband out of marrying me!"
"Whats wrong with you?! Why did you have to do that to my wife, and why would I want to marry you now? My answer is still no!" you scream anger filling your vision until you see the princess start to chuckle before she breaks out into a demented laugh.
"Very well I guess you get to watch your kids befall the same fate and that will be your last chance because if you say no after that ill do the same to you stick your wife and kids in the filth cell of the dungeon to ensure they don't make it and we will go down every day so you can see you beloved family slowly rot while they are still alive before the finally die of infection. If you say yes however they will be well tended and will live a painless rich life in another city as "royalty" never to see you again but not in pain and never mistreated." With that you hear screams as your kids are prepared for the torture that was planned.
"Fine fine I-ill do it ill marry you" You say as you watch as your family is torn apart both figuratively and literally.
"oh you can do better than that ask me to marry you don't just say you'll do it." she says unwavering as she is cutting you kids tongues out.
"OK OK Will you marry me?!" you cry as your families bodies are destroyed by this evil soon to be queen.
Only once she finishes making your kids match your wife does she respond "YES, OH MY GOD YES I WILL! YAY! now guards get these things out of our room and dump them into a garderobe and seal it off from both sides after dumping some excrement into it.
"Wait you said-"
"I know what I said but did you really think I would do that honey? who knows what you would've done now we have a wedding to get ready for and then after that we'll consumate our marriage in the same room that your family is in so the last thing they hear is us consumating our marriage." The princess cackled menacingly.
|
Asteroth6
|
Deathhunter2
|
2023-09-21 23:25:05
|
2023-09-21 20:41:15
| 58 | 13 |
k1myvgr
| null |
16okoso
|
16okoso
|
[WP] "You're a...Vampire!? Are you going to suck my blood?" "Ew no. I'm a vampire not a cannibal. Just like regular humans, Vampires are all different. The one the old stories were based on, was just weird. He was a psycho before he was turned too. Tea?"
|
"Human blood is overrated, then?"
The vampire shrugged. "I don't know. I've never tried it. Really, I can't remember anyone who has."
That didn't seem right, but then again, who am I to question creatures I know only kids' fairytales about? "So...well...animal blood, then?"
"Of course! And frankly, only the best at this point."
Now there is something I can talk about: food snobbery. I leaned over the fresh cup of tea he had slid between my hands. "All right, then, best blood?"
He laughed, and the tips of his fangs glinted in a way that suddenly looked less ominous and more awkwardly -- and adorably -- out of place. "First, that sounds like you're asking someone what the best food is. There is no best food. What's food mean, anyway? Can you compare an apple to a steak? Or a Pop-Tart to a fresh truffle?"
"Okay, fine." I blew on the tea and tipped a sugar cube into it. "Tell me about how vampires do food."
More laughing, and this time he snorted. I almost cracked up myself -- so much for the stuffy, noble stereotype.
"All right. Well, first, we can eat things other than blood. Like with any ingredient, you make it into things. Blood sausage is a classic -- you know that was absolutely vampires, right?"
"Vampires invented blood sausage?"
"Who else would?"
"I don't know, the kind of ancient people who use every part of the animal?"
"Vampires, trust me." He set his hands on the table, looking a little like the Aliens guy, his smile a little cockeyed. "So, you can put blood in most things. You probably won't like it, but a Pink Pearl Tea is just tea with blood and milk. Good stuff. I think the fanciest blood-meal I've had was seared shark with a tuna blood dipping sauce. Wonderful. That particular restaurant called it Predator and Prey."
"So...fish blood works?"
"Absolutely."
I couldn't help a glance at my tea just to triple-check that it wasn't pink. He smirked.
"If you guys don't feed on humans, mostly, where do vampires come from?"
"It's genetic." He shrugged. "Vampirism doesn't actually show up in a lot of people until they're middle-aged -- well, in years, anyway, they still look awfully youthful -- and so lots of them have children before they realize what's going on."
"So I could be a vampire."
"Sure. You'll know when you lose your canines. They don't reshape themselves; you'll just form a new set and they'll push the others out and descend like when you were a kid and lost your baby teeth."
I give one of my teeth an experimental wiggle. "Mine seem pretty firm." That certainly lends a new meaning to all those weird dreams I have where my teeth fell out, but a lot of people get those, right? "If I wanted to make food for you next time I have a dinner party, what do you suggest?"
"I'll text you some recipes. It's pretty easy to get pigs' blood from H-mart." He dumped a glug of half and half into his tea and swirled it. "You really don't have to, though. We can eat plain human food. It's just that we have to drink some kind of animal blood every other day or so."
"I'm willing to try it. Why not?"
|
"And that's why we don't go out in sun. Thought, we should tell you, you've been in the circle for 7 years now, and however much clue we gave you, you just weren't getting it."
Mike looked like he was about to laugh, but stopped midway when Sia flashed her fangs and turned her eyes neon green.
"You're a...Vampire!? Are you going to suck my blood?"
"Ew no. I'm a vampire not a cannibal. Just like regular humans, Vampires are all different. The one the old stories were based on, was just weird. He was a psycho before he was turned too. Tea?"
"Wow," Mike looked blank.
"Hey".
"Give me a break, my brain isn't processing the info fast enough," Mike said accepting the tea.
He took a sip, the another, then another. After finishing his cup, he started, "So, you are telling me that all 6 of you are vampires. Non blood sucking vampires."
"Yes."
"So, you are not like vampires from stories. I mean no blood sucking is cool. But super speed and strength would be awesome too."
"We do have some things in common. And yes that does include speed and strength. First, clear your image of vampires, you have a lot to learn."
"Let me give you a quick one shot," Charlie intergected,
"Super speed, yes.
Super strength, yes.
Sunburn, yes. But not enough to die.
No invitation-no entry, no. That is just a pride thing.
Garlic, no. I still hate it.
Stake at heart, yes. But we die by other means too.
Super healing, yes. But not enough to survive a bomb.
Immortal, technically no. But slow ageing and super healing gives the effect.
Any questions?"
"What do you guys eat, then?"
"That's the bad part. We gotta stick to the thing we first ate after being turned. The system refuses to accept anything else."
"Wow. That must suck."
"Yupp. But not as much as for Betty."
Mike looked at me questioningly.
"Aspirin. Woke up with a headache," I said.
I still feel frustrated. I am the only one of the group who doesn't know their creator. Like, I wouldn't have said no if you would have asked. Being a vamp is cool. But at least you could have told me what to do after I am turned. I was so scared, I didn't know what was happening. Kept puking stuff and had a very bad sunburn. Fortunately, Sia was the nurse at the hospital I had gone and took me under her, taught me vamp stuff.
"You can be a human or a vampire, you will still be in our group. We don't mind. You gotta weigh the ups and downs," Liz said. As soon as she had finished, a realisation stuck to her face. She hesitated. "You still wanna be friends, right"
Mike laughed. "Off course. But I'll still prefer to be a human. I love food. Maybe, I'll change my mind later, I don't know."
|
Alcoraiden
|
blue_flamingo26
|
2023-06-02 16:07:07
|
2023-06-02 15:56:38
| 427 | 90 |
jmmnhio
|
jmmlvpx
|
13yatv7
|
13yatv7
|
[WP] You are a police officer called to the aftermath of a horror movie scene. While there, you slowly realize the ‘monster/killer’ was the victim and the ‘helpless teens’ were the psychopaths
|
I got called at six in the morning by my lieutenant, he sounded shaken which surprised me.
"Freddie, I need you to get down to the docks. It's.. it's a hell of a thing down here and I need every body I can get on this." He explained.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll be about twenty. What we got?"
"At least twelve dead, one perp in custody."
"Shooter?" I asked, expecting it to be a yes.
"Umm.. well, no. Pretty much anything but. We have two survivors, too. I don't know what to make of what they're saying." He sounded like he was in shock.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm on my way L.T." I hung up and got myself together. I tried to get myself mentally prepared, if the lieutenant is feeling like this, I knew I couldn't imagine what it was going to be like.
I didn't know how right I was.
—-----
Traffic was light, and as I pulled towards the docs listening to radio chatter I realized why I hadn't been given clearer directions. He meant the whole docks. From the north to south side of the docs was entirely cordoned off. When I pulled up to the barricade and got out I realized we had county deputies, and local branch F.B.I. were pulling up at the same time as me.
I approached the nearest uni from my precinct. I didn't know them by name but had seen him around. He look like he had been to hell and back.
"You, what exactly the fuck is going on here?" I asked, motioning to the county and F.B.I. vehicles.
"Detective, we needed the backup. Lou called for it. It's bad in there, real bad. You're gonna want tiger balm." The uni fished a small tin out of his pocket and held it out.
"It's that bad in there?" I questioned while taking the tin, putting some of the minty balm under my nose.
"Worse. I'll show you the way." The uni took back his balm and lifted the tape, letting me in. He led me to the nearest warehouse.
"As far we can tell, this is where it ended. Perp and survivors are already at the station."
—-----
The uni led me to the door, but it was like some invisible force would let him open it. Like watching a lab rat stare at food that's been used to shock it for conditioning, he just stared at the handle.
"It's alright, I can get the door. Go do your thing." I said to him as I motioned back to the barricade.
"Thank you sir." He said with relief while he scurried away from the door.
I opened the door, expecting a body. I couldn't have gotten myself ready without watching a few slasher flicks first. The entire central area of the warehouse was taped off, forensics was crawling everywhere. The mixed company team trying to work well together, but methods were clearly clashing.
I didn't immediately see the body, first I saw the blood. It was everywhere, like someone had slaughtered a pig in the middle of a shipping warehouse. Once I was closer I saw writing scrawled on the floor in blood, it looked like it was done with a boot.
'OVER' is all it read. I took out my notepad and started writing details, stopping one of our forensics team.
"You get pictures of the writing already?" I asked her.
"Yes, detective." She answered. Her voice was flat. I could tell whatever waited for me through the rest of the docks was going to get worse.
"Where's the body?" I was confused, and I let it show. She responded without a word, but motioned up, above the writing and blood.
My eyes trailed after her direction, and like a macabre pinata I saw it. It dangled in the faint, early morning light filtering through the windows near the ceiling by a chain. I shined my own flashlight at it for a better view. The entirety of the victims abdomen and face looked like it was molded badly out of wet red clay.
"Holy fuck, it looks like they got put through a belt sander..." I couldn't help saying it out loud.
"Freddie, you made it." I heard the lieutenant's voice behind me.
"Told you I would, Jake." Normally, I'd be more formal.
"Yeah, formalities seem a little.. useless right now. It gets worse at the start point, so you know." The lieutenant looked down and nervously rubbed the back of his neck.
"So, give me details, Jake." I pulled out a stick of gum and popped it into my mouth.
"We have four vics that are done up like an art exhibit, two between warehouse two and three and four and five respectively, that look like wrong place wrong time moments. We got this guy here in five, still no ident on him. Two more tableaus in two other warehouses. Three has two of our primary victims, and two has one." He rattled off the details by rote.
"Tableaus? Getting fancy on me, Jake. That totals out to six, what about the other vics, you said at least twelve?" I raised an eyebrow at him.
"Yeah.. yeah I did. There's six bodies in the basement under warehouse one. It looks like a fighting ring or something, it's bizarre. What I'm thinking is that our perp brought people down there and made them fight him, and he beat 'em to death. That's what it's looking like so far anyway. Maybe the kids were trying to throw an illegal party and broke into the wrong basement?" Jake kind of trailed off, it was obvious he was going over the scenes in his head.
"Alright, give me the tour, Lou."
((CONT.))
|
**I'll finish this later.**
Derrick and his deputy—Shelton—were responding to a late night call. A potential domestic violence that’d turned to a murder, that’d transformed to a stalker chasing a teenage girl around for days. That’s how stories worked in this line of business. They switched up more than a damn model switches dresses.
He wrinkled his nose at the stink of a dead man in the living room. The joke of that had burned out fifteen years ago for him, now he only felt the reek of rancid eggs and bubbling metal. He’d never gotten used to the sight of the dead, how they lay crumbled eyes still gawking like the man before him, but the little girl on the other side of the room didn’t seem bothered much.
She had a twitchy dart to her brown eyes. Sometimes they looked steely gray when the pale moonlight sliced into the dark room, but that was it. Derrick scribbled that observation and had no intention to act on it. Years worth of mistakes had taught him when to act on assumptions. When to tuck ‘em away. He dropped his notepad and glanced at Shelton, who had that movie star smile the ladies love plastered on.
“Yeah, a passerby called it in,” Shelton said. He lazily waved to the outdoors beyond a window, a graveyard quiet street laid down in front of dense cornfields. The moon made it look like a set from a Stephen King film. Like something might pop out from the gentle sway of those fields at any moment. Shelton raised a puzzled brow. “Imagine you folk don’t get much in the way of visitors ‘round here. Lucky one happened to stroll by.”
“Yeah, we don’t get much. Lucky we did tonight.” Tangie gave a breathless little laugh. Didn’t look like she felt lucky at all, with that nervous little bite at her lip and her hands clasped tight to her chest.
But Derrick pushed that observation out of mind. Everyone reacted differently to danger, and assumptions had proved dangerous on the force. Shelton’s questioning had improved a lot over the past few months. He glanced around the living room, no portraits or signs that any adults stayed here. No sign that anyone else were here but Tangie, except a set of muddy shoeprints that led to the kitchen. But they knew she frequented here now.
Tangie winced a little under the moonlight and ruffled a tangle of hair. Her eyed hardened briefly, then went soft again. “Did the passerby say exactly what they saw happening here?”
Shelton scribbled a bunch of nothing on his notepad, a trick Derrick had taught him. Made it look like he knew more than he probably did. Shelton shrugged, “That’s why we’re speaking with you. Figure you’d know better than any ole passerby.”
Tangie shifted from foot to foot and bobbed her head like music was playing. Could be raw nerves. Could be stress. Could be mental problems. Derrick shook his head, tried to shake off a whisper that she was acting off, before he acted on it and got burnt—again. You should never rush to act on assumptions.
He stepped forward and took the lead from Shelton, snorted the phlegm back up his nose with a growl and smile. Wasn’t as appealing as Shelton’s, based on Tangie’s reaction. “I know has been a mess of a night.” He shook his head slowly at the ground, made a good show of it. At least half of being an officer is acting. Other half was a mix of paperwork, good deeds, and lying. ”We’ll try to get you through this as soon as possible. As you’re still a minor, we’ll need to get reach of a guardian. I’ll need a good number to reach ‘em on. Oh, and is there anyone else in the house?” He added that last question all casual-like as if it weren’t the answer he wanted the most.
“I’d have to check my phone for their numbers and my phone is dead. I’m sorry,” she squeaked. It was silent for a beat while she evaluated him, must have seen a brick wall so she continued, “And there’s no one el—“
Before she could finish Derrick raised a hand. “Muddy shoeprints. At the front door. Imagine there’s at least one boy your parents warned you about that you’d rather not be caught with. We’re a little beyond that.” He nudged a finger to the muddy tracks. By now the dead man’s blood had crept to them and started slushing into it. “No one’s in trouble we just need to get this taken care of. Procedural stuff.”
Tangie’s eyes bulged all bug-like for a second before she settled them quickly. Her sweet smile had become a fine line that aged her well into her twenties. Derrick scribbled. Composed reactions. A liar. Likely an actor as well. A standard teenager by all accounts but so many things were gnawing at him. He didn’t like the decor in the living room, the deer heads mounted on the wall with their beady eyes. He didn’t like the whispers of the corn fields outside or the distance Tangie kept from them. His nerves were screaming.
|
Sepherchorde
|
Glittering-Vast-1387
|
2024-10-05 21:38:48
|
2024-10-05 21:08:26
| 30 | 14 |
lqispgj
|
lqin6eu
|
1fwpm6p
|
1fwpm6p
|
[WP]"Halt, foul beast! You shall threaten this town no longer!" Yelled the hero, drawing their blade, an ancient artefact that glowed and became razor sharp in the presence of evil.. except it wasn't only not glowing, but dulled as the hero pointed it at the 8' tall man-wolf huddled in the corner
|
"I'm lupine, clearly," the man-wolf sighed, extending his tongue to lick a deadly claw and turn the next page of the book he was reading.
"I said halt, foul beast!" the hero repeated, the flat bit of metal shaking in her hands.
"And I said I'm lupine, not fowl." He paused to glance over his spectacles at the tiny hero. "Oh, wait. You're just being rude, is that it?"
The hero swallowed her fear. "I... I have come to slay evil, to protect my village!"
"Uh huh." The wolf folded his glasses and put them on a shelf. "And I suspect somehow I'm a threat to you?"
The girl-pig shut her eyes and steeled her resolve. "Y-you're going to eat us all if I don't kill you!"
The wolf's mouth opened wide, revealing rows upon rows of sharpened teeth. The hero waited for a howl, perhaps a roar, before the jaw clamped down and straight through her armor.
Instead, the wolf laughed. "Eat you? Oh, sweetheart, you'd barely be an appetizer." He reached over and grasped the tiny hero with his claws, lifting the miniature creature off the ground.
"T-then what's been attacking us at night?" the girl-pig asked.
The man-wolf put the hero gently back upon the ground and adjusted her helmet. "Now that, my dear, sounds more like a potential dinner guest."
|
Wolf Man: What?! But I didn't do anything!
Hero: Not you! The evil spirit hiding under you!
A shadow bursts from the floor underneath the wolf man, sending him tumbling into the lower floor where he fell into a table filled with food. The chef was not impressed, for the food was supposed to be taken to the waiting food critic and will surely have dog hair all over them.
The sword suddenly glowed exceedingly bright.
Evil Spirit: Curses! How could I have been found out by this stupid sword-swinging buffoon!
Hero: I might be stupid, but you were not subtle.
Evil Spirit: How?! I am darkness personified! I move in the shadows! I hide in the dreams of men! I am the nightmares that plague your every sle--
Hero: It's midday. All I had to do was follow the large patch of darkness moving on the floor.
Evil Spirit: (silence)
Hero: (silence)
Wolf Man: Ow, I think I have soup in my ears!
Evil Spirit: Shit.
|
-_WiCK_-
|
Time_Significance
|
2023-03-03 18:42:22
|
2023-03-03 14:38:04
| 335 | 101 |
jasdbqr
|
jarcegj
|
11gzjb8
|
11gzjb8
|
[WP] Write a happy story without conflict. Then with the last sentence, turn it into a horror story.
|
Everything was perfect.
Dream job, dream family, dream house. What more can I ask for? I wasn’t super rich, but honestly, I felt like that was overrated. Having a job that you liked doing and paid well was better than having a bunch of money and too much time on your hands. It’s not a popular opinion, but finding a job that was rewarding and is what you want to do is really a blessing.
Like I get to take as much time off as I want, but I still get paid both salary and commission. The people I work with are great. It sounds corporate, I know, but they’re really like family to me. We always go out and get drinks after work. They’re really easy to talk to and always down for trying out new things.
My boss is great. She isn’t a micromanager or anything like that. She just tells me what to do, and I do it. No fuss at all. She’s got my back for every annual promotion, and I’ve been promoted each year now. The benefits and compensation are the best in the industry.
The balance is exactly what I need. I get enough time with my wife and kids. Never had I had to miss any of my three kids' events. Piano recitals, football games, family outings, you name it and I’ve been there. It was awesome getting to see my kids grow up and be a part of their life each day.
“Hey Jim, do you want to get a drink after?” Harry asked.
Wiping the sweat off my brow, I sighed. “Sorry man, I have to head back home to drive the kids to soccer. Tomorrow?”
“Sure! That works for me.” He grunted as he tried to throw the meat onto the conveyor belt, but failed. “My goodness, you need to cut a little more off, this one is too fat.”
“Sorry, let me get that.” I walked over with my cleaver, and went to work. After a few more chops, it was into smaller pieces. “There you go, it should be better now.”
“Honestly Jim, your skills are the best I’ve seen. Don’t think anyone can come close to your knife work.”
“Yeah, I’ve had a lot of practice growing up, and even going through school. I didn’t think I would be able to land my dream job doing this either. It was really hard finding time for my hobbies, you know? Always had to be careful and it took a long time.”
“Yeah, it’s the last batch, and we can call it a day.”
“Hey look, it’s Barry!” I shouted, as I dragged his corpse up onto the table. “I always wanted to cut him up.” I started to cut up the corpse to toss into the processing plant. I wonder what he’ll taste like.
|
##Wedding Vows
Everyone in the church looked their absolute best. When the doors opened, Vivian cried when she saw their smiling faces. Her father covered her from the crowd.
"Is everything alright dear?" Ulysses asked.
"I didn't expect to be so emotional," Vivian said.
"It's your wedding day. It's to be expected."
Vivian took several deep breaths. She closed her eyes, and her dad walked with her. Her grandma smiled and waved. It was a surprise for everyone that she managed to come. Her brother was prepared to take a video for her.
Vivian's mom was sitting in the front row, and she was crying already. Vivian looked away to avoid crying. On the other side, Derrick's mom was crying. Why can't this room have one dry eye. Vivian looked forward.
Derrick's smiling face nearly made her cry. He looked so perfect and happy. She couldn't wait to spend the rest of her life with him. She turned to face her bridesmaids.
Danielle, her sister, was standing the front. Her curls were looking great, and she doubted that perm. Lila, best friend from birth, was standing behind Danielle looking radiant. Penelope was standing in the back. Vivian didn't know Penelope that well at first; Derrick's mom insisted that his sister be included. Penelope turned out to be a great bridesmaid. Also, their dresses looked wonderful. Vivian wouldn't shackle them with something ugly.
Derrick and Vivian stood at the front smiling for the audience. Vivian heard her mom wail and began to laugh. The officiant was giving a speech, but all Vivian could do was focus on Derrick.
"Now it is time for the vows. The groom please."
"Vivian," Derrick smiled, "You are my best friend. These past few years have been amazing. I promise to love and support you in every circumstance. We are stronger together."
"Derrick," Vivian said, "I adore you. I cannot stop thinking about you. You are truly the perfect man that I dreamed about as a kid. I don't how you did it, but you did. You really put a spell on me."
---
r/AstroRideWrites
|
BrainnFog
|
AstroRide
|
2024-06-23 00:32:12
|
2024-06-22 23:46:34
| 58 | 16 |
l9u6g5l
|
l9u06qv
|
1dm3g47
|
1dm3g47
|
[WP] After the villain defeated you, your friends abandoned you, leaving you for dead. To your surprise you awoke in a bed, with your wounds tended to and the villain sitting at your bedside.
|
"And here I thought I was the bad girl. Even I don't leave my people behind" she said with a smirk.
I groan. As if the pain wasn't bad enough, now I'm stuck with her arrogance. Excuse me, "her excellence" is what she prefers.
"They reported you dead, you know. Going to be hard to come back from that."
I didn't have the mental power to think about that. Everything hurt, even my toes. "Fuck you" I coughed.
She gently caressed down my jawline with her fingernails, "Oh dear I hardly think you're in the condition for that".
Her touch was kind. I don't know why it caught me off guard. I have no idea what she could be wanting, or why she let me live, but I couldn't do anything about anything yet.
She stood to leave, then looked at me with genuine kindness in her eyes, "you know, everyone has a villain in their own story, and just because you think your villain is bad, doesn't make them bad. And just because you think you're the good guy, that doesn't make you the good guy". She walked out the door, telling her servant something as she left.
She was right. But why say it? This whole adventure I had felt like there was something I was missing, but what? Too weak to think about it now. I needed to sleep more.
I awake with a start, the morning sun on my face, warming it. For being such a villain, she did have amazing taste. And this bed is the most comfortable thing I've ever slept in. My body still aches, my head still throbs, but I feel significantly better.
I open my eyes and she's there again; not three feet away, sun gleaming through her silky brown hair, eyes closed, chest gently rising and falling with each breath. Her full lips pressed together. Why are these thoughts in my head. It has to be the fog from all the exhaustion and pain.
She wakes with a start, looking to me. "I see you're awake now. You should be feeling better after sleeping for two full nights".
Two nights?? Gods I didn't realize--
"Your friends that left you have started quite the ruckus since leaving here", she said flatly.
"What do you mean"? Well at least I could speak now.
"Your oh-so-magnificent sword is actually a key, and they've found the lock. Seems they knew all along. I had hoped otherwise". A look of concern crossing her face as she called her servant in.
"Have a look at what they're up to" she says as she helps me look into the large bowl in the servants hands.
Fire. Screaming. Corpses. Large black writhing tentacles masses in the sky. "What the hell is all this" I stammer. This was beyond comprehension. This can't be real.
"They've unleashed an Eldritch god, which is what I was trying to stop. I'm not the villain of this story, you and your friends were, but you were oblivious to their machinations". Now it all makes sense. The whispering, the secretive meetings, the shared skin markings. I've been betrayed, and I could feel the anger growing inside me.
"Use that anger. Let me help you, I can make you more than you were. Pledge yourself to me, and we can take this world back and make them pay." She looked at me softly, offering her hand to me. I took it, and a warm flushing feeling came over my body.
I was back on my feet, only a little pain. It's been five days since the Eldritch gods have appeared. Once took Her hand, my healing went quickly, and I was fitted with new armor, and a new weapon that drew on my desire for revenge. It was like nothing I had heard of. It was light, but dense, and had the power to sever any gods connection to their powers, or their disciples from them.
I looked over at my new queen as we left her lair; the flaming skies and blood soaked lands ahead of us, towers darkening the landscape. Those were the targets. Those were the rewards for the traitors and now high priests. They will reap what they have sown, and we will make sure of that.
|
The fire crackling reminded me of times spent in the forest with my father as a young boy. It put me at quick ease as my body relaxed as the familiar scent of rain fell with the darkness of the night. When I eventually decided to open my eyes after taking a deep breath of oak trees, I quickly noticed half of my vision was gone. Bandaged tight around my left eye, I focused my vision and a couple of campfire embers danced to the right of me and I desperately turned to follow its beauty. I could see my friend's cloak to the right of me while she made food at the campfire but she was not my friend and in my hazy state, I reached out in hopes for company.
"Ally?" I had to clear my throat before speaking but I eventually got it out and whinced. That's when the reality of my pain hit me for my chest felt every rib was bruised. The figure turned to show itself briefly, it was not my friend but my foe. "You..." My tears were a mix of anger and I was shouting the best I could at her as my fight or flight kicked in reminding me of what she did to me. "You kill my friend and then wear her death proudly?!"
She hung her head sighing before rolling her eyes as she waved the back of her hand and snapped her fingers casting a spell with a soft blue light traveling from her palm to her fingertips as a warm damp rag landed on my head to cope with my fever while she returned to cooking most likely regretting her decision. "Rest. You're going to need it you know." She paused waiting for my reaction but I let it drop. If she wanted to kill me she would have on the battlefield.
An owl hooted and we got a clear view of the stars while we were surrounded by trees. That's when I noticed the rain right above us was suspended in the air and spilled off to the sides as if a window was right above us. "Why...treat my wounds?" I turned over to get a better look around us and that's when I noticed my left arm was nothing but a stub and in turn, I gasped in horror.
She tapped her pot with her wooden spoon and held it up to show potatoes and carrots and other things as it sloshed around. "Hungry?" I looked at her skeptically but accepted defyingly as my body ached for food. "Your friends left you after I defeated you...count yourself lucky I have empathy, I went through something similar when I was younger." When she turned to stand the pot lifted itself and closely followed alongside. That's when I noticed bandages on her side lightly soaked in blood. I wouldn't have noticed it if the dark green cloak hadn't lifted when she turned quickly and in turn, I felt guilty.
She noticed the shift in my eyes but said nothing about it, she poured me a bowl and we exchanged a warm quiet minute together while I picked up the wooden spoon and ate as slowly as I could as if that would make it better. No malice for an enemy I never thought I would share a meal with yet it still felt like my friend...the soup was good too. She snorted and I looked up confused until I realized I muttered the last part out loud. I knew Alice was a sage, and had telekinetic powers but never lighthearted and childish. I wonder if we had met sooner we could have been friends.
We stayed silent until we finished our meals and soon enough I tried to head to bed while watching the fire while Alice sat on a log watching it flicker. "Thank you...Alice, truly." She didn't respond or turn backward to acknowledge me so I turned around and slept with a weight in my chest.
|
NotJustRandomLetters
|
NinjaProfessional823
|
2024-10-05 04:53:10
|
2024-10-05 02:32:07
| 28 | 12 | null |
lqef36o
|
1fw6scr
|
1fw6scr
|
[WP] In a world where it is no longer trendy to have an ordinary human body, the kids are all flocking to get cybernetics. Your mom has banned you from getting any until you turn 18.
|
"Honey, you're not getting cybernetics. Not until you're 18."
"Mom! Everyone in school has one! Even that kid from the ghetto has a hearing implant that lets him hear sound from over 200 meters away!"
"You're doing fine in school, aren't you? Your grades are fine, you passed your physical test—"
"But I'm not the fastest runner anymore! Not since Brad got his blade runners! Now he's slicing through the air and tearing through running tracks instead of just running along with these boring legs!"
"I said no cybernetics! They could eat your soul!"
"Mom, that's stupid old wives tales! I won't lose my soul having a robot arm. Or a stainless steel chestplate. Look, its not trendy to have an ordinary human body. Everyone has an upgrade. Even a beggar has a fucking implant! Half the school knows of the weakness of human flesh and worship the Omni-Messiah!"
"You just don't want to be an ordinary human, do you?"
"...I wanna be cool like the cool kids in school. Kick some ass, run circles around the mundies."
"Cybernetics is a trend. Trends don't last. Neither do machine parts. They need maintenance, upgrades, and a source of power, be it fuel, or electricity, or solar energy."
"Mom...you know something."
"Cybernetics can be damaged, or worse, taken away from you by harvester gangs. Did you read the news? A star college athlete was jumped by the Salazar Slicers last week. They robbed him of all his cybernetic limbs so they could assemble their own champion sportsman for the upcoming Sundown Marathon. Left the poor boy lying in the dark alleyways as a limbless torso. That could be you."
"...don't scare me like that."
"Look up the news yourself."
"I don't want to. Mom, spit it out. I know you hate cybernetics but you're hiding something."
"Honey, it can't be helped. I was going to wait until you were 18, but you can't wait," Mom paused to sprout additional appendages, of twisted arms and writhing tentacles. "So, I will now teach you ancient art of eldritch flesh crafting and biomancy from the Gods of the Deep."
----
[Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, click here for more prompt responses and short stories written by me.](https://www.reddit.com/r/TregonialWrites/)
|
"Mom, please? Everyone at school has cybernetics!"
"If all of your friends were to jump off a bridge, would you?"
"Ugh, mom! That's so 2030!"
"We've talked about this, honey. You're not getting cybernetics until you turn eighteen."
"But Mom! I can't wait that long!"
"It's only a couple of years. You'll thank me later when you haven't made permanent changes to your body because you were young and stupid."
"Ugh!" *Scrolls through phone.* "Look at HarmlessAndriod, mom! She got a new cybernetic eye! It's all red, it looks so cool! Why can't I get that?"
*Sigh.* "There was a period, back in 2024, where I thought Tiktok would disappear. Yet here it is, infecting another generation with its toxic trends."
"Mom, you aren't even looking!"
"Look, Aera, I'm gonna be honest with you. This cybernetic thing is a trend, and who knows how long it will last? In a couple of years, people will be obsessing over some new thing. Just because cybernetics are trending on Tiktok now, doesn't mean they'll be trending in ten years. Do you remember when Stanleys were trending?"
"What are Stanleys?"
"Exactly."
"Mom, who cares how long the trend lasts? Everyone is getting cybernetics! If I don't get cybernetics, I'll be a total loser!"
"Sweetie, I'm not letting you make a permanent change to your body just because its trending. To be completely honest, I'm hoping that by the time you're eighteen, this cybernetic trend will have died and the internet will be obsessing over something else. If you turn eighteen and you still want cybernetics, fine. I won't stop you. But as your parent, it is my job to protect you. And that includes protecting you from changing your body so that other people will like you."
"Ugh! You never let me do what I want! I hate you!"
*Runs up to her room and slams the door.*
|
Tregonial
|
dragontimelord
|
2024-07-27 06:56:16
|
2024-07-27 06:17:09
| 117 | 72 |
lf5mgvt
|
lf5iuj3
|
1ed7bz0
|
1ed7bz0
|
[WP] You're a mostly forgotten god whose only believer is a ten-year-old girl. Every night she offers you a bit of her dinner or a shiny rock in exchange for her family surviving the night and every night you accept because she's never in danger Tonight, however, you actually have to work for it.
|
Oblivion was short-lived. 900 years or so. And then a child of all things started beckoning me back to the land of the living. Across my history her offerings were small. But when you haven't had a sacrifice in nearly a millenia, any sacrifice is appreciated. And she never asked for anything. The line she'd translated from a 10th century history of pre-Gallic tribes in her mother's study contained a plea to me to "survive the night". At that time, villages slaughtered a stag every dusk and pledged themselves to service in exchange for a full harvest and the preservation of their houses. Well the world of the present has remarkably less to worry about, so I could rest easy knowing my supplicant would be safe without my intervention. No need to expend power unnecessarily after all. And she was happy in her habit, comforted by the thought of a power watching over her and her loved ones. As supplicants went, I had had worse. And without question, too few who were worthy of my favor. Oblivion did not arrive without reason.
This little arrangement had worked pleasantly for all involved for 12 moons and 10 days. And then, late on the 11th day, three wolves found themselves drawn to my pledged's door. And I found myself stretching the knots out of muscles I hadn't flexed in ages. Enough of my old self restored to hear their intent. The thoughts of threats as open to me as tracks in a field or the hearts of my faithful. One ensnared by greed, the other two, darker things. The greedy may survive me, if he is wise. The others will not.
Still time for mortals to act. Not required to step in if others prevented harm from coming upon the pledged. There were two locks on the door. ... ... ... Picked quickly. Still an alarm that would call the local forces... ... ... Bypassed. My jaw ached in anticipation. About a year's sacrifices from 1 supplicant. Should be enough for three. Would need to be enough. To avoid non-existence a while longer. If only her parents played along with my faithful one. Even false faith would have been worth something, if just for the ritual of the thing.
The wolves enter on the front landing. I enter beside the child's bed. She above everyone in this house must remain safe. Exit the room, close the door. Expend a portion of power to seal it til dawn. The hallway is dim. Worse than darkness. I insert two fingers into a power outlet and trip the breakers for the house. More power expended. But at last, darkness. I hear them flipping switches and cursing among themselves. Two move for the rear stairs while the third starts bagging household treasures.
As they ascend the steps I sense not only their weight on the treads, heavy as they are. I feel the air shift as their forms traverse the space. Tall. Well, tall for my previous faithful. Likely average for the world today. The one on the left is slower. Not from purposefulness. Sloth. He will die second.
I move, enrobed in shadow. The faster monster realizes too late that they are not alone in the dark. I throw my hand with inhuman force. It crushes his throat with a crackling sound. He reaches. For help? For me? For breath? He finds nothing. As he begins to fall back, I guide him to his companion. The slow one startles, now realizing something is amiss. He tries to catch his falling friend. It is at that moment that I kick him off the stairs. He sails into the air for a moment, his eyes wide in wonder. Nay, it is shock. Only when he begins to understand his predicament, the Earth beckons him back. I can hear the bones in his back break when he strikes the floor. No danger left in these two. A fraction of the power granted to me remains.
The thief has moved toward the broken one, drawn by the noise and his gurgling anguish. I descend the stairs in silence. As he calls for the one whose throat I destroyed I announce myself.
"Your companions had ill intentions for my child. I dealt with them as they deserved. You may leave with your life or die here with the monsters you accompanied."
Several spurts of language start and stop before he pulls his weapon from his coat. Still blessedly blind in the dark. I move across the room, one last chance.
"LEAVE OR DIE"
He chooses that moment to fire his weapon. Metal flies in multiple directions. Each posing danger should they land poorly. I expend most of my remaining power to stop the bullets with the darkness itself. I move swiftly and push his weapon towards himself.
"I gave you two chances. You will not get a third."
And I squeeze his finger for him. The metal lands badly for him.
The noise of the weapon has woken the household, and likely their neighbors. I have little power remaining. Enough to stave off Oblivion. But not enough to hold my form. The child's parents attempt to enter her room. They are granted access by virtue of being protected by the same power. The child is awake, concerned, but not frightened. I am glad. And impressed by her faith in me.
The rest of the night is filled with police and questioning and a girl adamant that there is a simple explanation. I saved them and ended threats to this home. The police are unconvinced. The father is uncertain what happened. The mother, witnessing the aftermath, feeling her daughter's certainty, feels a sort of certainty by proxy.
The news of a home invasion and the records of the dead threats brought some attention to the child at school. And she took the time to introduce a number of interested children to me. It's only a flock of 50 or so, but they believe with a child's heart. Wholly. I haven't been this well fed in a long time. And as it so happens, 50 families scraps are almost as satisfying as a stag a night. I'm starting to feel like my old self again. And I've started talking with my little druid. And granted her a couple of boons. But no need for you to know about those for now.
And while she doesn't play along in my young druid's nightly ritual, in her heart, the mother of the house thanks me with equal faith. I think I may need to start talking to her. She could prove quite useful. Protection, as I said, has proven quite simple. But how should I provide a good harvest when they aren't sowing any crops? I will have to think about that awhile longer. Til then, I know my faithful, and they know me. Should you dare threaten them, we too shall meet.
|
How long has it been?
How long ago was it that the banners of vivid blue hung from the terraces of my temples?
How many ages have gone by since the people walked through the streets on my high holy day, casting handfuls of blue flower petals into the crowds to bless them?
How many generations have passed since my priests heaped goats and sheep and bulls on my altars, splitting them open and burning them to garner my most meager blessings?
I know only that Babylon fell long, long ago. Those priests, and the temples they brought my offerings to, little more than dust on the wind. A triumphant shout that has faded into a quiet, all consuming silence.
Then, I reclined on beds made of ivory and stuffed with the feathers of ostriches and ducks. I was sheltered from the sun's glare by the mud bricks of ziggurats raised by men who felt honored simply to labor for my glory.
Now, I sleep in a cave, in a pile of rotting leaves and the furs of small animals I can capture with my hands.
I glance at the back of my cave, at the meager trove of offerings that have been brought to me over the last few years. Once, tens of thousands had worshiped me, their offerings spilling from the entrance of my temples and down the steps into the streets. Now I have but one supplicant. A young girl who comes here each night when her world sleeps, bringing whatever she can and begging me to protect her family.
A storm is passing by, the smell of rain thick in the air, the loamy scent of soaked earth filling my nostrils. I inhale it deeply, one of the last few pleasures I enjoy, but something smells *wrong*. A tinge of madness on the wind.
I creep towards the back of the cave, my breath shallow as I contemplate my tiny hoard. A small bowl I'd carved from rock to hold a loose pile of multicolored glass orbs. Her first gift, a feather from a crow, all black unlike the ones I'd seen in Babylon. The leg and wing bones of chickens she'd brought to me were meticulously stacked on the plate she'd brought them on, a beautiful thing made of white porcelain, delicate red and blue flowers trailing around its edge. A dried crown of white flowers, my favorite of them all, caught my eye causing it to linger on it.
The madness is creeping closer with the storm clouds. Fat and squat they spread out on the horizon darkly, ominously warning me to stay away. If I go to her, I doubt very much that I will survive what I find. If I do not, I can continue to eek out this meager existence. I may even, one day, far from now, find more worshipers. I could be loved again. I could be worshiped again. I could bask in their adulation, in their rites and hopes and dreams, answer their prayers, smell the incense and ash of their offerings.
Is it the duty of the gods to protect their followers? Or the duty of the followers to keep their gods remembered and strong? Who owes fealty to whom? Are we born of their needs and hopes or do they crawl forth from our egos and desire for love? It has been too long for me to remember.
I scratch at the lice that chew on my flesh underneath the ragged beard that crawls down my face. Long, long ago, women had fought one another for the honor of trimming it and oiling it, braiding it with bits of gold and lapis lazuli. But they have all long since died. I search a pile of bones that has been heaped by my door, scraps of rotten and dried meat still clinging to some, and find a large one. Some kind of leg bone from what the girl called a 'moose'. It is thick, and so, so heavy in my hand. It drags behind me along the floor of the forest as I leave the cave, as I shamble down the hillside, towards the twinkling lights of the town the girl lives in.
Lightning lights the clouds and the rain finally comes, the pregnant clouds opening up to weep down upon the little village of homes and the little god who walks towards them. I wonder if perhaps they are a final elegy for me by my father. I wonder if he still lives as I live now, forgotten and weak, or if he died long ago without my knowing. I remember the feeling of my hand in his as we stood atop his ziggurat, the cries of the humans below filling us with pride and love. I remember the strength with which he squeezed my hand, how big it felt compared to mine.
With every step I take, the tinge of that scent grows thicker. It's sour and musty, like old books that have been left to rot in a warehouse, vermin smearing their feces across the ink and chewing at the corners of the paper. There's something else to it too, a kind of iron, like the smell of blood and intestines mixing with dirt. It makes me want to gag.
But it's not just the smell that seems off. The little village of the girl, a tiny town buried between the mountains, has always been a quiet, sleepy little place, but never this quiet. No animals move or chatter and none of the odd metal carts, cars the girl calls them, move along the streets. The only sound is the wind screaming through the trees as the storm passes, the patter of rain as it begins to fall more heavily. A door bangs against its frame in the distance, a lonely drumbeat in the dark.
Lights normally blaze from the windows but tonight I don't see them. Even the stars seem to have been swallowed by the storm clouds that have drifted over the valley. I search the town for signs of life, but find none.
I resume my march, following a pulsing feeling deep in my chest, the tug of the girl's fervent, whispered pleas to me to protect her family. The bone scrapes loudly on the road as I follow it towards where I feel her to be, the grating sound joining the dull banging of the door and the eerie cries of the wind.
Finally, I find the home. A small thing of white painted wood, the door lies on the ground before the portal it once covered, shattered and discarded. Blood trails across the threshold, into the yawning darkness. I do not fear what I will find inside. I only fear that I am too late to protect the child.
1/2
|
AnamTuirseach
|
CrunchAndRoll
|
2023-10-23 23:15:12
|
2023-10-23 22:04:35
| 43 | 19 |
k66bhk1
|
k6610e0
|
17eo460
|
17eo460
|
[WP] After months, the villain finds the hero, but upon arriving at his home, he discovers the hero in a stained robe, baby food splattered, huge dark circles under his eyes, and a non-stop crying baby. The only thing the hero says is, "My wife left me."
|
“My wife left me,” his voice was rough and on the verge of cracking. I hadn’t seen him like this in several years.
Golden Boy as I called him, Sunbeam as the public knew him wasn’t the one standing before me. It was Aleksander, Alek.
Sympathy ran through me at the sight of the Hero. My former best friend, ex-lover, and now sworn enemy. Sympathy. Something I doubt he ever had for me.
“Dammit,” I swore under my breath, holding my arms out for the baby, “Give her here,”
It didn’t take much convincing for the child to be in my arms, bouncing her softly I hummed a lullaby that I used to soothe my own daughter through her nightmares. It wasn’t long before the baby was asleep in my arms.
“Moonshadow, why are you here?” Alek asked me, watching me closely. He seemed surprised that his daughter was calm for me. A villain. He wasn’t aware of my own daughter, she was my well protected secret, my weakness.
“Alek, go shower and get cleaned up, I’ll cook you some breakfast,” I almost stepped forward to hug him, but stopped, “what’s her name?”
“Adriana, that’s her name,” he answered, “Selene, what are you doing here?”
“You haven’t been seen for months, both as Golden Boy and as Aleksander Devan,” I answered honestly, “I was worried, please go clean up Alek,”
“But,”
“You know I have morals better than anyone, Adriana will be fine, go shower, you’ll feel better,”
I watched as he opened his mouth to protest again, but stopped short of doing so. I studied his body language, at one point we both had known each other better than ourselves.
It took fifteen minutes for Aleksander to return downstairs, sans shirt, and the quick breakfast I had whipped up was almost done with help from my powers. Especially with a child in one arm. I had once dreamed of this domestic life, but our lives had headed in different directions.
“Why are the pancakes shaped like animals?” Alek had silently moved towards me, picking up two plates and moving them to the table.
“Habit,” I responded softly, my stupid heart beating faster with his proximity, it was easier to hate him before finding him in this state, I wish I still hated him. “My daughter loves animal pancakes,”
“You have a child?”
“Rhiannon, I did the single parenting thing, I know how hard it is,” I settled the sleeping baby into a high chair, grabbing a pancake for her.
“You have a daughter,” his voice was soft and thoughtful, “her father?”
“Doesn’t know she exists, I received death threats from another woman who was jealous of the relationship, so I left to protect my unborn child, she became my priority,” I admitted, taking a seat opposite Alek, but next to his daughter, “I loved him, her father, part of me still does, but I had to protect her,”
I hoped the the pieces would click into place for him. There was still fear in me that his now ex-wife would still kill me and my daughter if I outright told him.
“I wanted to marry you,” he responded softly, “but when you disappeared six years ago, and reappeared as Moonshadow, Ellie comforted me, she convinced me to become Sunbeam again. How old is she?”
“Five, almost six,”
“I’m her father, aren’t I?”
“Yes,”
|
Madeline Grayson, the woman better known as Madame Chaos, knocked on the door. She had been announcing evil plans for weeks, and still no response. If Captain paragon was going to fade into obscurity, the least he could do was tell her ahead of time.
"Come out, Paragon. You at least owe me an explanation." A fit, but very tired looking man opened the door while holding a baby. His bathrobe was stained by baby food, and what looked like vomit.
"Listen, chaos. I don't have time right now." The lack of sleep was incredibly visible on the man's face. "There are a thousand things I need to handle, and running off to stop whatever dumb plan you have isn't one of them." Madeline's face softened, and she reached her arms out.
"May I....please?" Captain paragon looked at her for a moment, trying to figure out where she was going with this. "I'm not going to drop her, I promise." Paragon gently handed the baby over.
"Why are you here, Madeline?" He asked, trying to block the view of his messy apartment.
"In truth, I'm worried about you Simon." Madeline said, this time with genuine concern. "The news networks think you're dead, and I figured I should check in. What happened to you?" Simon stepped out of the doorway, gesturing for Madeline to come inside.
"She's gone." Simon said. "She said that she was no longer interested in being a super wife. I think she might have gone to Arizona." Madeline took on an angry expression, as she walked through the door.
"So she just left you alone, to care for your baby by yourself?" Simon nodded.
"She was everything, Madeline. I don't know what I'll do without her." Simon sat on the floor, and began to cry. "I can't raise my kid by myself. I don't have time to go to work, and I haven't slept in days. What do I do?" Madeline sat down next to him.
"Do you trust me?" She said, letting him lay his head on her shoulder.
"Probably more than anybody else." He said, while starting to doze off.
"I'll watch the baby, and you sleep. We'll get your life squared away, and figure something out. Okay?" Simon met her eyes, and let himself drift to sleep.
"Okay...I trust you, Madeline.'
8 years later.
Simon stood at the door, waiting for the school bus to drop his daughter off.
"Honey." Madeline called out from the living room. "I'm heading to work. Come stop me at around 6:00, okay?" Simon smiled at Madeline, who has just donned her green and black costume.
"Alright, Love." Simon said. "Be careful. And try not to cause too much collateral damage. The press has been killing us over that lately." Madeline smiled, and planted a kiss on his cheek.
"Okay, babe. Love you." She started to fly away, but turned back before leaving. "Tell Alice that I love her once she gets home."
|
AmoldineShepard
|
F1600A
|
2023-11-12 22:13:33
|
2023-11-12 22:08:12
| 27 | 18 |
k8zjljf
|
k8ziqoh
|
17ta3ab
|
17ta3ab
|
[WP] The Clergy hates your eccentric ways, but you remain the best Exorcist and you love your job. You're only called upon to chase the strongest, fiercest demons. But your prayers are just for show, what really terrifies the spirits away is witnessing a demon powerful enough to take human shape...
|
The young, naive man sat next to ‘Father’ Geniol. The Vatican had assigned him to be the father’s latest apprentice. Daniel had just recently taken on the vestments of a holy man but quickly found himself in trouble for his ‘carnal desires.’ His choices were to suffer excommunication or to become the apprentice to the Father here. Daniel took the later knowing while it was almost a guaranteed death sentence, at least he would be welcome into the kingdom of Heaven. It would… just be a little quicker than he had originally planned, thought Daniel.
The Father took a swig from his holy water font(?) “Father did you just take a drink of holy water?”, asked Daniel. Turning to Daniel and no longer looking at the road ahead, the scent of whiskey overwhelmed Daniel. “Yeap, thank our Lord Jameson. Amen” Daniel was appalled at this blasphemy but held his tongue least he earn yet another black eye from the Father.
Barely missing an oncoming truck, the Father swerved the car somehow sensing the danger without at glance. “Come now ‘child’ if the son of man’s blood is wine a nip or two of alcohol only brings us closer to him.” Daniel could only bite his tongue harder and may also have wet himself.
Looking a bit disappointed the Father put the font back into his front pocket and again looked at the road. Daniel had witnessed the power of this holy man next to him. His aura was palpable when he stepped into a room as he would quickly slur some prayers in Latin, Greek and other languages. These prayers seemed to seal the room and cause the demons to reel in fear. The Father would then approach the demon who would scream and plead. Then with a simple touch the Father would exorcise the abomination.
The Father and Daniel were on their way to a mansion where something powerful had taken hold of the manor’s youngest. Whatever it was had slain a fellow priest and drove another mad. It was such cases that the Vatican would send Father Geniol and by extension his apprentice.
Arriving later that day, the Father quickly gathered his possessions and practically dragged Daniel inside. “Are we not going to rest and pray,” asked Daniel. “No rest for the wicked,” came the reply from the Father with an uncharacteristic chuckle. They were ushered upstairs to a room with a door barely on its hinges. The Father removed his Font (the same one as he had previously drank from) and made a big spectacle of splashing the door frame before the worried parents.
As if on cue the occupant of the room started screeching and scratching. Daniel thought for a second and realized this one spoke Latin. Previously these demons spoke either an unfamiliar language or what he assumed was the language of Hell. Quickly entering the door the Father started approaching the possessed child who was in the corner. Daniel heard the demon shout in Latin. “Devourer please come no closer, let me leave this child.” The small hands of the child pointed at him. “Devourer why do you want to eat me, that corrupted man’s soul would be much more satisfying. Just leave me…”
The Father finished approaching the child and with a forceful shove, the child fell limply to the floor. The sense of foreboding emanating from the fragile frame gone. Thinking back at the other exorcisms, Daniel realized that every one of the possessed had gestured similarly in his direction. He had thought they were pointing to the door but no it was him…
Daniel felt behind him at the doorknob and quickly retracted his hand… it was scalding hot. Father Geniol seeing the understanding in Daniels face, started to approach him.
|
I was drinking another bottle of Vodka when Brother James approached me with a few exorcism assignments.
"Bevra? Baron of 6th Hell? Pfft, that's small fucking fry. You should know by now I'm only called upon to take on the big bad boys," I snorted.
James bowed and showed another assignment. Mammon. Duke of Greed in the 9th Hell. Now we're talking. Now, this is the sort of challenge I live for. Can't wait to fuck this one up and show him who's boss. But first, I still have to attend one of those boring customary mission briefings.
James reminded me not to be rude, and no profanities in the presence of the cardinal. Eh, kid, you seem to be forgetting, you might not like my ways, but I'm the best exorcist you got. I just love this job so much, well, most of it, besides the boring briefings.
Ah yes, Mammon is wrecking shit in New York again. I nod, smile, and pretend to pay attention while the cardinal is yapping away. He glares at the vodka bottle I brought into the room but doesn't say anything. Of course, he doesn't mention it, the one time he objected to my drinking habits, I just went on a month-long sabbath, munching popcorn while a few demons trash a few towns.
So I take my rosary, my exorcism book, and a bottle of water. Is that water holy? Eh, who gives a fuck, I never really needed to sprinkle it at all. Looking for Mammon isn't hard at all, he's a big, dumb, greedy brute tearing his way through food factories and stuffing his face with anything that fits into his gigantic mouths.
I telepathically whisper into his ears in the ancient language. Told him to play my game, then fuck off and crawl his fucking way back to Hell. His eyes widen once he sees it's me, and he gets the hint. Maybe not so dumb after all. He raises his arms and flails about while I read these lame-ass prayers from the book. Sprinkle a bit of water on his face, and he's ready to head home to Hell.
Easy-peasy. All in a day's work, just posing, prancing, and praying for a bit before I tell them to beat it and fuck off back home to Hell. I love how easy it is to rake in good money.
I guess I ain't the only one because there is this little demon kid shuddering in the corner, watching me at work.
"I want to be powerful like you too," the kid declared. "How you take a perfectly human shape and just send them packing like that."
"Just give it a few million years and you might just get there," I tell him plainly. "Stay alive long enough while building power."
"I can't build power if everyone keeps robbing me or laughing at how human and simple my name is. Teach me your ways, oh great and wise President Haagenti. I want to be a President and a member of the 72 demons of Ars Goetia just like you!"
Cute. I'll take this kid with me. His human form is very rough around the edges, but there's definitely some raw talent I can work with. After all, it does take a powerful demon to truly assume a convincing human form, so the kid is halfway there. Maybe we can form an exorcist duo, chewing bubble gum, drinking wine, and kicking the asses of other demons.
I swirl the "holy" water bottle, turn it into wine and offer it to the demon kid. Tell me your name, kiddo.
["I'm Amy. Soon-to-be-President Amy."](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amy_(demon)
|
oliverjsn8
|
Tregonial
|
2023-03-27 15:57:27
|
2023-03-27 15:53:37
| 363 | 101 |
jdvu6q5
|
jdvtlah
|
123m2lb
|
123m2lb
|
[WP] "Yeah, my brother got possesed by a demon, but we couldn't afford an exorcist."
|
"Wait, you're saying your brother got possessed by..."
"A demon."
"...and it happened..."
"Almost a year ago."
"And you didn't try to get an exorcist?"
"Oh, we wanted to. We just couldn't find one we could afford. It kinda worked out though."
"Yeah. About that -" suddenly there's some loud clanging coming from the doorway to the kitchen. After a few moments of silence a young man steps into the doorway. As he begins to speak a low rumble fills the house, "The cookies are almost done and I'm about to start on the hot chocolate. Kathy, do you like whipped cream and marshmallows with yours?"
"Um... Yes, thank you"
Once again the air seems to quake "Great. I'll bring it as soon as it's ready." He then disappears back into the kitchen.
"Dveveralth is such a dear. It took some getting used to, but it really is better with him here."
"But what about Seth? Is your brother" Kathy's voice grows quite until it's just above a whisper "gone?"
Wren bursts out laughing "No. Seth is fine. Drev says he's awake, and has made a lot of progress. You know how much of a shut-in has was, he was also depressed. Drev has been helping him, and says he'll leave once Seth is ready."
"Do you believe him? He is a demon after all."
A heavy silence fills the air, until it is shattered with "The hot cocoa is ready."
"Yes, I know he will keep his word."
"But -"
"Have you ever thought that maybe demons are actually good things? That they exist to seek out wounds and help heal them. To fill an emptiness and make one whole. I've come to think that is how things are."
"The world is a strange place."
"That it is."
|
I watched him writhe in pain for hours, contorting his body, tearing ligaments. He rapidly cycled through every emotion known to man. Our desperate attempts to fill the air with holy spirits were met with spitting vitriol and hatred that cooked our bodies to the core. My mother and father aged thirty years. Due to the times, we could barely afford to eat, let alone hire spiritual help. My father begged our neighbors downstairs, our neighbors down the hall, and the priest himself - no one was willing to proffer a debt that could not be repaid.
Somehow, I knew it would happen. The prior three months were dreamlike, picturesque, read like storybook, filled with laughter, peaceful, comfortable, heavenly. Most families never experience the love and bond that we shared. We were happy, despite the economy and widespread illness.
No matter what I do, I will never be able to erase the image of terror on my brother's face as his soul was violently torn from his ravished body and exiled to an afterlife unknown.
"Thank you for sharing. Anyone else?"
A tiny voice poked into the conversation. "My father was sick" she began, "but he died because we couldn't afford his daily shots."
|
GlisteningShadows
|
Worried_Cut1212
|
2023-11-07 17:27:55
|
2023-11-07 15:31:31
| 85 | 41 |
k88lsyq
|
k882laz
|
17ptimu
|
17ptimu
|
[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.
|
"Mom? Dad? You stay in the rear each time the sessions start, ya hear!? Don't hang anywhere near or around the AT-AT Walkers and, for kriffing sake, DON'T BE A HERO...or FIGHT any! That goes especially for the guys with the humming/glowie sticks! Just...just please KEEP LOW and under the radar until I can find us a way OUT of here, okay?"
My father and I spoke as he studied my all black protective coverings with a worried concern in his voice at the similar black & white armor in which my parents were now clad. He knew who we were, but didn't understand WHY we were in this predicament. My mother could be heard quietly weeping behind him, her voice emulator seemingly unable to differentiate between speaking and crying. She suddenly pointed and screamed as a Rebel member appeared from behind a large boulder and fired several shots in our general direction...only to have each one slapped away by a huge, imposing figure brandishing a long, red light-saber. He(?) only pondered our tiny group for a moment as he made a movement with his hand, choking the life out of the same soldier who tried to kill us meer moments before, the soon limp body hanging in mid-air. Flinging the corpse aside with a slight wave, the voice of the Sith-lord came through, strong and clear:
"Follow ME! Embrace and CONQUER your fear!!"
I had serious, conflicting emotions at having been saved by Darth Vader, but I soon found myself walking quickly to keep up with him. My determination to keep us all alive was paramount but I couldn't help but have some growing admiration not only for the fearsome dark-side user, but also for my father...who, quietly but radiating with equal purpose to protect us, his FAMILY, strode menacingly BESIDE me, ready to charge into the harshest fray. As my mom brought up the rear with her blaster at the ready, albeit nervously within her grasp, I prayed to whatever higher power that I would see both my parents alive and well.
|
It's not really from the perspective of the main character, but here goes!
​
\----------
​
There's something, I think, moving. I can see it on the cameras.
...
It's small. There's three?
...
I'm sure it's not a human. They looked different than that...I think? I was in here so long...
...
A cat. Three cats. In the Dead City. How? *Why?* Would they be able to understand me? Could they get me out?!
...
No...that's ridiculous. They could never get past the Zurks. I'll turn on some neon arrows, maybe. I'll see how far they can go.
...
One fell.
...
The other two are making their way closer to me...maybe...I could at least try showing them where to go.
...
They're in my flat. Or maybe someone else's. It could be the scientist's. It could be mine. No-one knows anymore.
​
I suppose I could tell them to find me a body. They found that old computer, so I could leave a message, or two.
...
":ijrtuuxp6njb/jbrv" says the cats. What does that even mean?! What are they trying to tell me?!
...
\[LAUGHS\] They actually found something. Just that silly little B-12 drone. Wow.
​
Will it work? Could that tiny thing really store me? ...What's... left of me? Maybe, just maybe, I could be...free?
​
I suppose then, this is the end. I don't know who I am writing to, really. It's not like anyone is going to find, and actually read my 1527 entries long electronic journal I have on this system. But, if you are, learn from us. Don't make our mistakes.
​
\-*undefined*, the last human
|
QuietRulrOfEvrything
|
None
|
2023-10-07 06:27:07
|
2023-10-07 02:34:27
| 88 | 31 | null | null |
171om7s
|
12cv28e
|
[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?”
|
"Madeline. What...?"
"Harrison. I've been waiting for so long. All these years, not a word, not a letter!" She brushed her way inside, her long green bustled dress catching slightly on the apartment door as she went. She collapsed on the couch, her face buried in a handkerchief. "I waited, watching the sea for ages. Just as you told me to. And what was I paid for my loyalty?"
"Mad... Eline?"
"Did you ever really love me, Harrison? Were all your perfumed words nothing more than a puff on the breeze?"
"Oh wow, I forgot how bad that dialogue was..."
Her head snapped to him with a deadly glare. "How dare you insult me as I empty my heart before you, bleeding my emotions on the floor until there is nothing left! I leave myself anemic in love at your feet and you laugh at me!"
Jack took a moment to collect himself from the pain, physical pain, of hearing the lines he had written as a teenager replayed in vivid technicolor. "I'm not laughing. Madeline. Not laughing at all. I'm just... Confused. How did this come about?"
"As I said," she turned to gaze out the window longing, the kerchief held close to but not touching her face in one hand. "I gazed out to the sea as you told me to do. Waiting for a sign of your return. Waiting for the day I may see your sail once again return to shore, to return to the loving embrace of my bosom."
^^^"jesus ^^^fucking ^^^christ..."
"Even as the years drew on, I never wavered. My faith was tested. My eternal devotion unbroken. Until one day, I saw a light. Like a whisp beckoning, calling to me, guiding me. I followed it. Through roads and rivers, across vast oceans and foreign lands, I did follow it for I knew, I knew it was leading me to you. And now, here we are. Together again." She rose, graceful now. An odd mixture of a powerful presence and cocksure determination while seeming to be attempting to appear demure. "Oh, Harrison. I am so sorry for scolding you. You must forgive me. My hot head has proved once again my undoing. But I tell you, the heat of my pounding heart is far more intense. You can feel it under the flush of my, well, I am too embarrassed to even utter the word, but for you, Harrison. For you, I'm willing to bear myself, unfettered and pure!"
"My parents sent a box of my stuff from high school, huh?"
"It had your little league trophies and a goddamn **stack** of notebooks. What really happened to Harrison anyway?"
"Who the fuck cares?"
Jack kissed his wife as he made a mental reminder to burn that stack of notebooks.
|
Each foot fall gave a dull thud that echoed into the night. It'd been a long day, a dog day to be honest. He finished his cigarette and flicked it toward the old fountain, a derelict bit of masonry that hadn't pumped water in ages. Now filled with stagnant water and hundreds of other soggy cigarettes butts he'd given a flick in the past, now fate was to be a foul-smelling eyesore or maybe an ashtray.
His unsteady hand dug for his keys then fumbled with them as he tried and failed multiple times to find the keyhole in the knob. Eventually, he lucked out and managed to pierce the hole. A shake of the key ring and a twist of the knob and the door was opened.
It squeaked eerily, sounding shrill in silence of the night. He didn't notice though, to familiar with the sound by this point for it to even register.
As he stumbled through the door, he was startled to find that there was already someone waiting inside, standing in entryway to the kitchen.
All he could tell was that her pronoun was she. Her curves gave it away. The living room was dark and only the kitchen light illuminated the woman, back lighting her so that she'd become a silhouette. Still, one look at her and he knew, she was someone he had a history with.
"Why did forsake me?" These were her first words to him.
He sighed heavily. He knew this day would come.
"Answer me," she demanded. He knew he was too drunk to handle this properly. Even sober, he knew he'd say the wrong thing, so he gave it to her raw.
"What did you expect me to do? You're a dinosaur. I stopped writing about dinosaurs when I was in sixth grade. I'm forty now. I didn't forsake you. I traded you for a fresher body, one that could stimulate my imagination and come to life on the page. You were too two dimensional and smelled of crayon."
"You bastard. I gave you the best years of my life."
"Did I ask you to give them to me? No. I had a pencil and needed had an itch to scratch. You just happened to be a doodle in the wrong place at the right time."
"I fucking hate you . . . You--You asshole."
"Bite me, bitch," he retorted.
So, she did. She was a dinosaur after all.
|
waltjrimmer
|
Koyoteelaughter
|
2024-03-12 19:29:26
|
2024-03-12 19:19:28
| 38 | 11 | null | null |
1bd1w5u
|
1bd1w5u
|
[WP] To prevent the prince from falling in love with a commoner, a decision was made to keep him away from all women until he reached the age to meet his betrothed. However, one day before meeting her, he escaped with an unexpected companion.
|
I hugged the walls, keeping myself in the shadows, as I reached the West Wall of the castle. My heart raced as I dodged knights and servants, still milling around the castle this late at night. Don't these people sleep?
Making sure the coast was clear, I threw my bag over the wall, and soon I made the climb. I quickly jumped over the wall towards a tree, then staying still, making sure nobody heard anything before climbing down the tree. After grabbing my bag, I ran to the woods, adrenaline pumping my veins. I'm free. I can't believe I did it. I don't know how long I ran, but by the light of the full moon, I reached the clearing, where I spotted her, Hannah. She had two horses ready, and majestic steeds they were.
"Where did you get them?" I asked Hannah as I approached.
Hannah pulled out her sword, soon realized it was me.
"Don't scare me like that, Ivan."
I smiled and embraced her, kissing her on the lips.
"We can't do this here, we need to go-"
A snap of a twig startled us both.
Without saying a word, we both hopped on our respective horses and were about to leave when a knight stopped us. I thought he was one of my father's men, but I noticed he wore a different emblem. The Rosavilla Crest. He's from the Rosavilla Kingdom. Did my father sent them? Why though?
"Princess Anne Mary, we finally found you!" the knight said in relief.
"Princess...Anne...Mary?" I asked, looking at Hannah.
Behind us, the knights of my father's kingdom emerged.
"Prince John Charles, what are you doing!"
Hannah's eyes widened, "Prince John Charles."
We both looked at each other. All this time, sneaking around, meeting in the woods, taking trips to the village, keeping each other a secret, we were betrothed to marry this entire time.
|
Yep.
The prince ran away with a man.
I'm more shocked that people were shocked.
"The p-p-prince is...*gay?*"
You keep a guy locked up for his whole life with nothing but guys and then get surprised when they start touching each other's dicks? Anyone heard of something called prison? Anyone?
And don't think it's just prison. Let's not pretend we weren't at sleepovers with our friends trying to measure whose dick was bigger. C'mon. If you have a son, and he spends the night at his guy friend's house more than once a month, I've got something to tell you...
And it's not just prison or a sleepovers. If you ever played or watched a sport in your life, then you might need to take a seat for this one...I respect wrestling teams because they don't even try to hide it. But football? It's literally men chasing other men around and jumping on each other, while men at home scream and cheer them on. They do a good job of hiding what's really going on by putting on helmets and pads, but if you really want to see it for what it really is, take away the clothes.
I could go on, but if you've ever been to prison, a sleepover, watched or played a sport, then you have no moral high-ground to judge the prince for what he did.
Because if you were in the prince's position (pause) *you* would have done the exact same thing (pause, no homo).
//*Author's note: I'm straight, by the way.*
*Or am I?*
|
Lexi_Ballard
|
MicroscopeMac
|
2023-11-11 16:22:27
|
2023-11-11 15:43:14
| 211 | 56 |
k8stxcv
|
k8snn32
|
17sts59
|
17sts59
|
[WP] An elf goes out on a ‘short errand’, forgetting that 30 years is a long time to have left his human wife and child at home.
|
In terms of lifespans, elves were generally accepted to be functionally immortal. The oldest known, was around 9000 years old but there are rumors of sages over a 100,000 years old.
It was also widely known that this was not natural but a result of the largest ritual in recorded history. In fact there's been speculation that elves were just humans from a highly advanced human civilisation and the physical differences were also a result of the same ritual that gave them their lifespans.
The evidence for that is elves and humans can have offspring. The resulting half-elves are known to live up to a thousand years or so.
All that is to say, when my father left on an errand one day, everyone knew he wasn't coming back. In fact, it was widely known that for relatively young elves who have never had long term contact with individual humans, they lack the understanding that short meant minutes or an hour, not years. There are two scenarios when young elves take human partners, they remain with their spouses till the day they die, and learning that humans don't live long or they decide to go on *short* errands.
For a 15 year old, I was sorely ignorant of the world but even so, I knew something was wrong in hoe desperate mum was in trying to get dad to stay.
The last thing he said to us respectively was "You worry, too much, I'll be back in a while" and "I'll see you around kiddo"
Thirty years have passed since then. Mum passed away, still waiting for dad to come back, and I've taken up the vigil. Not because I was desperate to see the man, nor was it because I promised my mum that I would. Not entirely anyway. It's because I vowed to myself that I would give him a good punch, the moment he shows up.
Being an adventurer, the chances are that I would miss the moment when he does come back but as fate would have it. I didn't.
As I've practiced countless times, when the door opened, I stood from my usual seat by the wall where the door would be blocking me from view once open and hearing the phrase "Honey, I'm home" uttered, I stepped around the door, and crouched low, throwing a haymaker that connected beautifully.
Aiming for his abdomen, I feel him fold then straightening up, I watch as he falls to his knees, groaning "What?" He raises his head to look at me. "Who?"
"Welcome home father. We have much to discuss"
|
Mom said you were always a kind man. That my pointy ears and deep green eyes showed my magic, of both kindness and what ended up being a talent with healing. She always spoke of you kindly, never a harsh word about you. But every night, since then, I’ve heard her tears. She misses you, you know.. she can’t bring herself to move on, because that would mean admitting you might not come back.
At one point, mom almost gave up. I had to talk her out of it, and… it’s never quite been the same, since. We both know it’s the healthy thing to move on, to live our lives while we can.. but as we both got older, I more mature, I found myself yearning to see you again. To ride upon your shoulders, to bake with you again. We both wanted you back, so badly it hurt. I don’t know mom’s side. I don’t push. It.. it seems to hurt her, too much, to talk about your departure.
I never had another father figure. Even so, though you’ve left, and I don’t know where you’ve gone, I will always consider you my father. The one who left on a dangerous quest, though I don’t know what it really was. The one who summoned illusions of unicorns for my birthday parties, who always made mom’s tinker-bell laugh ring every night. The one who made rainbow bubbles to trick me into bathing after a day in the rain. Though my memories are foggy, your face and voice faint, you will always be my father.
I’m 35 now. I have a wife, and a little one of my own. She’s named Regina, after grandma. You’d be proud of how adventurous she is. Mom.. mom still misses you. She’s taken up gardening, and still lives at our old house. She’s planted sunflowers, in hopes the sun will guide you home one day. She.. mom doesn’t have much time left.. she’s getting old, too old. I know it seems like the blink of an eye to you, but for us? It’s been too long.. all too long.
We miss you dad. We hope you’re safe, and that you’ll return soon. I hope this letter reaches you, someday. Say hi to the gang for me, alright?
Your daughter,
Emi
|
CipherWrites
|
moonlitenby
|
2023-04-02 10:12:40
|
2023-04-02 07:45:01
| 67 | 12 |
jen86ct
|
jemxxeh
|
1294tv7
|
1294tv7
|
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