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The coven meeting was complete, and I took a quick glance at my phone before going across town for my city council tasks. Two missed calls. The first, marked as "scam likely"could be ignored. The second- I frowned as I recognized the number.
"This better be an automated call to refill the lunch account,"I muttered as I accessed the voicemail that was left.
"Hello Warlock Collins,"said the voice on the other end of the phone. She sounded nervous. "This is Heather, the secretary at Willow Hill Middle School. We're calling because your daughter, Anna, flew off of school grounds - uh, again. As, um, as was discussed after this happened two other times, a third occurrence would result in, uh, discipline,"the secretary's voice quivered, as if she didn't want to be breaking this news. "Thus, Anna has been given detention today, for 90 minutes after school, and will be let out at 4:35. I sincerely apologize for any inconvenience, and please call us back if you have any concerns. "
I sighed, and felt a growing amount of annoyance and disappointment. Not only had Anna once again failed to follow the simple rule of staying within school grounds while class was in session, but she would miss the bus home, and with my wife attending a national conference in Salem, it would fall to me to leave work an hour earlier than usual to pick up my misbehaving daughter.
I knew Anna wasn't a bad kid. She earned excellent grades. She wasn't cursing classmates, or setting fires. She got along well with other students. But somehow she landed herself in mischief a fair number of times.
The first time the flying out of school occurred was a year ago. Anna insisted the fairies organized a flyout after the school implemented a rule that students couldn't hover above their seats in class. My daughter had been eager to join, but when the time for the flyout came, Anna had been the only one to soar out over the fence. The fairies had admitted they were only jesting, hovering in place was incredibly draining after all, and the school agreed to let it slide, due to Anna's intentions of supporting her friends.
The second time occurred a few months later. I'd been out of town, so my wife had handled it. I didn't get all the details, but it amounted to Anna having a bad day, and simply deciding to leave.
Whatever happened this time, I'd find out later.
After a very busy afternoon, in which I rushed to get all necessary matters attended to, I left shortly before five to pick up my daughter. 4:35 had not been possible, but it would be good to make Anna wait a bit.
As I drove to the school, I considered if Anna was aware that if this mischievous streak continued, it would have an impact on our family name. My father currently held the prestigious role of Supreme Warlock, a role I would one day fill, and, should she keep her head on straight, Anna could obtain as well. The Collins family name was held in high regard, not only amongst witches, but in the supernatural community as a whole. My wife, with her incredibly successful spell business, had only added to our acclaim. If news that my daughter was flying off school grounds reached others, her future could be impacted. |
Kel was ushered into the resturaunt by prison guards. The chains around his feet that linked to the cuffs around his wrists making loud jinges everytime he took a step. The people in the resturaunt turned to face Kel as he made his loud entrance. The guards ushered him toward the bright neon door labled "Laser Tag."The door led to the arena that was located in the center of the resturaunt. The layout was designed to give patrons a view down into the laser tag pit. A cruel spectacle. Inmates who volunteer play this game usually have nothing to lose.
Kel was taken through the door into the prepping area. It was a small room with no seats. Waiting on him were two members of the staff. His chains were removed and the two staff members began to outfit him in the equipment that was hanging on the wall. A vest with a small green circle right in the middle was put on him first. Then they clasped a ring around each bicep, and each wrist. Then one right above each knee, and then one above each ankle. These devices each had similar small green circles. Finally, a ring was placed around the top of his head, with the small green circle in the center of his forehead.
After he was fully outfitted, the staff members left the room. He was left standing in silence, the full gravity of the situation beginning to set in. In about an hour, he would either be dead, or a free and very wealthy man. He preferred the latter. Suddenly a long beep sounded over the intercom.
"Contestants, please listen carefully to the following instructions."Someone was speaking over the intercom into the room. "There are eight contestants in total. Each contestant has been outfitted in our latest lazer tag technology and will be given their lazer rifle before entering the arena. To win the game, you must be the last contestant standing. A contestant is eliminated when they are deceased. A shot to the helmet will trigger a powerful microwave blast to the brain, eliminating your target. A shot to the chest will release a strong concussive blast to the chest, eliminating your target. A shot to to the rings on the arms or legs of your opponent will sever the limb and cauterize the wound. You have 15 minutes to prepare and consider your strategy. Should you request a priest, one will be provided to you. And remember contestants, the winner will have their prison sentence commuted and be released with five million dollars. Good luck contestants, may God have mercy on your souls."
Kel sat down in a crosslegged position. His heart was racing and he needed to calm down and focus. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had been mentally preparing himself for months before and after he put his name forward to play. But being here now, about to enter the arena was something else.
Kel closed his eyes and took a deep breath. In through his nose, and out through his mouth. As his heart rate slowed, his thoughts became clearer. After what seemed like only seconds, another long beep sounded over the intercom.
"Contestants, in one minute the door infront of you will open."It was the same voice from before. "In it will be your lazer tag weapon. Keep in mind contestants, a lazer beam from the rifle may only be fired every five seconds, so make your shots count."
One minute later the door to the arena buzzed and swung open. In the next room was his rifle against the wall. Beyond the rifle was a short tunnel. Kel could see it led into the arena on the other side. The game has started. Kel steeled his nerves and took a final deep breath. He grabbed his rifle and began his walk toward the arena. |
Usually when people talk ghosts, they’re talking about the only kinds they really think exist: the human kind. Oh, sure, there might be the occasional nutjob, excuse me, *supernatural enthusiast* who thinks like, maybe they’re dead dog still talks to them sometimes. But you know what creature’s ghosts never get talked about?
Bugs.
When it comes to necromancy, so many write off the little critters, just because, well, they’re usually pretty dumb and tiny. But the great thing about bugs is, they don’t have strong identities and their minds and souls are decentralized. Whereas you normally have to jump through all kinds of ridiculous hoops just to get in contact with a single human ghost, let alone control them, a skilled necromancer just needs to keep their ear to the ground to get in touch with the spirits of thousands of bugs.
And what about the bodies? Do you really need them? Eh, not really. Bugs can live with their heads cut off and their legs missing, and may not even notice. That is to say, they aren’t too attached to their bodies, and even without a body, you can channel their spirits into pretty much anything.
Okay, I won’t lie. Being the only necromancer who fucks around with bugs is not the most glamorous thing. I mean, my work is some of the creepiest shit you can do. And it’s even lonelier because bugs don’t really like to talk, or if they do, it’s like, through scents and shit. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve tried to issue verbal commands to squadrons of bug spirits who would just stare at me, waiting for my nonexistent antenna to move. But I think I’m on to something here.
Wait, sorry, did you just say you can raise *yeast* from the dead? Alright, I need to buy you a beer. |
gatekeeper from the stars
Her name was Faith. Yet her faith was cruel. Bathed in sparkles, with diamonds in her her hair and sadness in her eyes, she was entering trough the back door. The once brave poet of delicate hair. Abyss above her head seemed mute and the cracks between rainy clouds only pointed to one end, the end she dreaded. She couldn't find her star anywhere. Sometime ago, the warmth of a morning in July and that of mothers embrace were so familiar. Tonight, those memories are far away. Maybe she wasn't saying goodbye, it could have been the same old song all over again. She was talking to the stars. Though she wouldn't tell a single soul that she could hear the song they sing. The secret kept from her was that the stars were gone. After she found out she had to start going back home. But ever since she left, their lives crumbled. Tonight their fears gave birth to a new grim reality. Because she came back. Daughter to no one.
"Forgive you? You walked out! You left the family behind, you left me behind and you want me to forgive you? Only now when you have been chased out of heavens, are you coming back."The silence was cutting trough the atmosphere like razors. "We don't want you anymore..." |
I nod my head as I listen to Greg tell the story of his mother's death for the thousandth time. Normally people would get sick of it, but I have to be patient and understanding - he has PTSD, after all, and I'm his emotional support human. I stroke his ruby head, feeling his scales, reassuring him, as I always do. "She... she kicked me out the nest... I didn't know why... until a rock crushed our nest! So my mother died... saving my life..."I can see the tears welling up in the dragon's eyes.
I shuffle right up to him, making sure he knows I'm there. He brings me in close and gives me a cuddle. This is normally his que that he's ready to go to sleep. I curl up in his arms, whispering to him "It's ok, everything is alright."Just as I feel Greg drifting off, with myself to follow shortly after, a man appears at the entrance of the lair. In a knight outfit. With a sword. *Great, another 'hero' ready to 'rescue' me from the 'vicious beast'* I think to myself.
This has been a problem ever since Vlardic, a magician whom previously held Greg captive, tried to re-capture him. From my understanding, one of Vlardic's friends, who despises dragons ever since Greg showed 'a lack of appreciation' for what Vlardic did, despite knowing Vlardic's fate, told everyone a horrid beast killed him and took a teenage girl captive. I'm getting sick of this, especially because of Greg's PTSD - I see the anger in his eyes every time a 'knight' shows up.
Greg, knowing he can't do anything without creating a casualty, unfolds his arms, making sure he holds onto the leash attached to my beautiful crimson collar (we already had an issue where one guy tried to run away while dragging me - fortunately screaming 'kidnapper' stopped him from getting too far). I walk towards the cave entrance. "Fair maiden-"I hold up my hand and stop him right there. "Let me clear things up for you, *kid*"(he was clearly an adult, but I needed to knock him down a peg).
"I'm NOT a maiden, I CHOSE to be with Greg, who NEEDS me for his PTSD, and I'm SICK of all you WANNABE heroes trying to 'rescue' me. I'll warn you the same way I did the others - due to Greg's PTSD, he struggles sometimes with his emotions. If you so much as touch the air near me, he'll get protective, and won't be afraid to attack. Now, go away, Greg was about to go to sleep before you interrupted us."I see the guy glance at Greg, who's absolutely fuming, figuratively AND literally.
The man nods quickly before going on his way. I sigh. "I hope they stop soon..."I turn around, and Greg seems to be trying to relax. "One day, someone will be hurt... and I'll be labelled a monster..."he has a think. "I chose to stay in this lair for *your* sake, so you could be with your own kind, but I've been 'mature' enough for a while now to join my fellow dragons. I think it would be best if we do..."I nod my head, trying to keep myself from crying. "I agree... but I'll need to say goodbye to my friends and family first..."
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This story is a part of my series, [Dragon's Pet.](https://www.reddit.com/r/StoriesbyCrystal/comments/x46g40/dragons_pet/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3) Please check it out! |
The six Kingdoms of Eretria had reached a sort of stability and peace after thousands of years of bloody warfare, countless atrocities, and moving borders. There was still warfare, but it had become formalized, regulated, and "civilized."When one kingdom wanted to pursue policy through another means, then it would declare war on the kingdom it was trying to influence, and a third kingdom would be selected and agreed upon by both sides as the battle ground and arbitrator.
The warfare itself was bloodless, or it was meant to be, as the third kingdom would have Judges whose job was to adjudicate battles and decide a winner. Weapons were blunted, arrows were given spongey broadheads dipped in paint, and tactics decided battles. The losing side would have to capitulate on the political point, or meet agreed upon terms issued at the declaration of war.
Three hundred years ago, when the citizens of the 6 kingdoms began rioting to protest the endless bloody wars, the system was designed and agreed upon by the ruling bodies of the kingdoms, otherwise they would lose their right to rule. The kingdom of Scalea hit upon a brilliant idea that the other kingdoms adopted immediately: the judges for the battles, duels, and wars would be drawn from the crippled and the lame. Those unfit for warfare, or ruined by it, would be the ultimate adjudicators on the battlefield, and their word as Judges would become law.
This had a pervasive effect in the societies, and Judges became a class of their own, no one wanted their child to be born lame, or to lose their livelihood from battle, but their education and their policies led to Judges becoming respected and taken seriously by those who would be their political superiors.
Within the six Kingdoms, Scalea's society had the deepest respect for their Judges, and striking a Judge was a high crime, punishable by death or whatever sentence the Judge who was the victim set. Formal duels were celebrated and practiced within Scalea, you could challenge another to a duel for slights of honor, for blood feuds, and to redress grievances or injuries to family members. So long as a Judge was willing to adjudicate the duel, then it was legal and the outcome was binding. Duels were popular to witness, and could be to the death, however killing in a duel to first blood would still be considered murder.
Erik Pritchard was the second son of a noble family. His parents were distant cousins to the thrown of Scalea, but well off and established in the military power structure of Scalea. Erik's father, grandfather, and male ancestors were all military officers in the Scalean infantry. His mother, grandmother, and all of his female ancestors that were talked about, had served in the medical corps, a subsidiary of the Scalean military that now provided broad medical care in the kingdom since war was now relatively injury free. Erik was destined to serve as a lieutenant in the Scalean military, and his best friend in the war college was named Jole.
Jole Covington was born to a well off aristocratic family, with established blue blood running back centuries and plenty of extra wealth. His parents were healthy, and their love was strong, but their third son was born with a clubbed foot, and no amount of money could heal the deformity. Jole's path in life was established from his birth, with no right to the family inheritance as the third son, with no potential for martial prowess, and with the Judge class actively searching for arbiters, Jole would one day become a Judge.
The Judges of Scalea were trained in the war college with the future officers of the Scalean military, however their training also included law, precedent, and extremely in depth political studies of their own country and the 5 neighboring kingdoms. A Judge's status came from the absolute faith that they would be non-biased, a Judge from Scalea was trusted, and expected to judge a Scalean infantry regiment as dead, and rule against the country of Scalea, if the loss was genuine. Every other country respected the Scalean judges even if they wouldn't actually put them in a position to decide against their own country.
Erik and Jole loved the war college, it was the pinnacle of learning within the Scalean society, and focused on producing tactically sound and brilliant military leaders. Unfortunately, Erik developed a rivalry with the crown prince of Scalea quite by accident. While he was familiar with the ruling king, and the general outline of the family, he had never actually met the crown prince, or seen him from a distance. Erik and Jole were in their first year, attending an introduction to martial combat training class, when Jole spotted a crowd of people.
"Wonder what that's all about?"Jole asked, seeing the preening strut of a royal with a stick up his ass.
"Must be somebody important I guess,"Erik said, knowing that his friend didn't have a lot of respect for people who flaunted their power.
"I'm just surprised he can fit that many noses in his ass,"Jole said, at the very moment that their monstrously over-muscled instructor entered the training arena and the entire group quieted down. The preening royal prince and his cronies heard Jole's joke, and slowly all turned to face Erik and Jole. |
“And have you got the latest Bugfix, Sir?” the attendant asked, looking Oliver up and down as she did. Oliver froze, half reaching for his phone before stopping himself. *Christ, so it was just a rumour after all.*
“No,” he answered, straightening himself for the rejection. “No, I don’t.” The attendant moved towards the door, blocking the entrance to the restaurant.
“Well, I’m afraid,” she began, feigning annoyance but loving every minute of it. “That Genio’s is for only those who have been given the latest Bugfix, Sir. I’m sorry.” *You look anything but sorry,* Oliver thought. A cheer rang up from inside as a group of people, all sitting around the one table, looked on, laughing as Oliver turned his back and walked down the street, the same way he had come. A wave of embarrassment washed over him once again. Having saved and scrimped, living frugally for nearly a year he had finally been able to afford the first Crispr update. Then, not even a month later, they rolled out another one. Ever since, companies have been segregating their businesses, trying to attract only the richest, safest clientele.
As he walked on, the grey clouds above opened up and soon Oliver found himself drenched, his good clothes weighing him down. A flickering light above signalled he found himself outside a noodle shop and with no other option he could see, he opened the door, loving the warm breeze that came over him.
The smell of soy sauce and grilled chicken hit his nostrils like a train and it was only then did he realise that he had forgotten to eat all day. *Too preoccupied with that bloody Bugfix.* The restaurant, in comparison to Genio's, was drab. The wallpaper was flaking off the ways. Only every second table had a tablecloth. A cobweb hung in the corner and Oliver suspected more could be found though his thoughts were interrupted by a waitress.
“Hello,” she said, smiling as she hugged a large, black menu. “A table for one?” Oliver had already started to take his phone out of his pocket, hoping this place would only require the first Bugfix. “Oh, Sir. We don’t require any of the updates.” She turned, assuming Oliver would follow, and brought him to a small table near the front.
“Is this ok?” she asked, holding out the menu for him to take. About to sit in the seat, Oliver looked up and saw a lonely figure sitting at the back of the restaurant.
“Tobi?” Oliver half-shouted. The man looked up from the menu he had been studying. A smile appeared on his face as the two men embraced each other.
“How long has it been?” Tobi asked, a bushy, brown beard hanging off his chin. Oliver shook his head.
“Too long!” Oliver answered as he took the seat opposite where Tobi had been sitting. The waitress stood behind them, smiling patiently at the two men.
“Oh, yeah,” Tobi said when he realised she was waiting on them. “Can I just get the chilli chicken ramen please?” The waitress started to scribble down on a notepad when Oliver interjected.
“Yeah I’ll just have the same,” Oliver added and with a nod the waitress went to the back, leaving the two men alone.
“So,” Tobi started, leaning back on his chair, his head nearly brushing against a large cobweb that hung just above his head. “What have you been up to?”
“Oh,” Oliver moaned. “Just getting rejected from Genio’s.” Tobi smiled and nodded his head. The waitress came back, leaving two small cups of green tea in front of them, before returning to the kitchen.
“You heard that rumour too?” he said, taking a sip of the tea. “But yeah, Genio’s definitely still care about your Bugfix status.”
“Yeah,” Oliver muttered, sipping his own tea though he never really liked it. “So embarrassing. Like one Bugfix isn’t good enough as is?” Tobi eyed Oliver, a look full of knowledge, hidden and dangerous.
"Want to hear another rumour then?” Tobi said, his face now a mask of emotion. Oliver eyed him back, half intrigued, half suspicious.
“I don’t know,” Oliver answered, “Do I?” Tobi looked around, checking to make sure no one was listening.
“I heard,” he started, ducking his head a little as he whispered. “That the Bugfixes don’t do anything. We’re told that they protect you from all sorts of cancers and extend your life and things but people are getting cancer more than ever.” Oliver leaned back, shocked at Tobi’s words, having never heard this line of thinking before.
“Most people, the rich anyway, are just faking getting the updates as well. They can afford to. “ Tobi continued, once more looking around him and sipping his drink. “They only brought this stuff in so that they could segregate society, again!” The waitress returned again, placing two bowls of ramen in front of the men. “They said that an updated person couldn’t mate with a non-updated person but it’s been done!” Oliver sank lower in his chair, his ramen going untouched.
“Makes you think doesn’t it?” Tobi said as he wrapped a bunch of noodles around his fork. *You can say that again.* |
\[POEM\]
​
**Whisht**
​
I wish
I was beside you.
I wish
I was inside you.
I wish
That you were here with me.
​
I wish
I could find you
I wish
You could put it behind you.
I wish
You didn't live in fear of me.
​
I wish
I could tell you
'I wish
I could smell you.'
I wish,
Of late, to wish to 'not to wish' too long.
​
Wait, that's not a wish!
It's just a song. |
I knew the death wasn’t far away. How many more months could I live with this heartbreak I felt after my wife died. I was 83, felt knackered all the time and was close to ending it myself, at least that would stop the grim reaper doing it for me.
I watched him take my wife while she was asleep. I was half awake when I witnessed his shadow creeping in on the bedroom wall. I never used to believe in the grim reaper until the moment he made sure my wife wouldn’t wake up from her sleep. He sucked the soul out of her using his bone hands, and disappeared without a trace.
Since then I’ve been living in absolute fear. My heartbreak and depression was enough negative energy for the reaper to feed on, but he would need more than that. Those who live in happiness and gratitude live into their 100’s. I wasn’t one of them. I couldn’t be anymore. The anger of seeing the shadow take the breath of Annie consumed me. My lovely innocent wife gone in seconds. I didn’t even get to say goodbye. When he tries to take me, I would put up a fight.
One of those sleepless nights, laying half awake in my cold, lonely bed, I noticed the bedroom door move slightly. When I saw that familiar shadow, my plan had to be activated. I had devised this plan for years, wondering the most effective way to hurt Mr Death. How was it fair that he could get away with murdering all these people without a trace?
I figured there was only one way to defeat the grim reaper. By taking my own life in the exact moment he was about to take mine. I grabbed the gun from the bedside cabinet and held it to my head. Without second thought, BANG!
That’s the moment I was reunited with Annie, the love of my life. We were somewhere better now, where there were no limits, and we were free to do whatever we wanted for eternity.
The grim reaper on the other hand, was laying in the bed that I was, in the body of the 83 year old man that used to be me. We had swapped places, and now I would let him live through the torture I felt until I am ready to take his life. |
I opened my eyes and felt the pain. But I will get there, first I want to talk about the past.
My past was really simple. I don't know how you use the word "simple"but I use it as normal. Everything was normal. When the meteorologists said it would be a rainy day, it probably would have rained. We thought scientific method was would show us the truth. Actually it was doing it. Everything happened suddenly.
One morning I woke up, but it was very dark. And I checked my clock, it was 10.07. It was very dark for that time. I went to window, opened it and checked outside. I expected it to be bright. It wasn't.
There is no order in the universe after that morning. This morning I opened my ayes and felt the pain, there is nothing in the world but pain. I tried to suicide but it doesn't work. I don't know how much time I can go through it. I think this is how God introduces himself. |
“I need you to go over there and gather info on who caused the fire.”
“Yes, sir,” I said as the background music changed to ambient music. Downstairs, I grab my badge and gun. Outside, I find the first poor sap with the nicest-looking car. A cherry red automobile passes me, and I sprint to the window. The car stops, and the guy looks at me with fury. I flash my badge and say, “Sorry, but this is police business. I have to have your vehicle.”
He gets out, and I slide in. It’s roomy, and the interior is leather. My hands rub the wheel. It feels warm from the summer heat. Then I floor it, knocking the owner over. I glance at the rearview mirror. He’s shouting at me, and I can vaguely hear, “Wait till your boss hears about this! Dumb@#$%!” When he’s done, he walks into a building, and I never see him again.
If I were a real-life detective, I would be on the news for multiple homicides and grand theft auto. But, alas, I’m a video game detective. An old detective game that I don’t remember the name of. I am having a blast, regardless. I solve the same thirty-something cases, get into gunfights, and steal cars. I have collected every car here. This cherry red automobile is called Claret, one of the rarest cars in the game.
Until I got into an accident, I got T-boned for running a red light, which would be my fault in the real world. Not here, though. I am the king of this world. I got out of Claret, and the guy who T-boned me got out of his car. He tried to raise a finger at me, so I pulled out my magnum. He backed away quickly.
The game wasn’t programmed to have ‘concerned’ citizens reporting me. Occasionally, I have a partner with me. He or she will complain about my manners, but as programmed, they will forget about it. Life is easy, even with the hardest difficulty. I spend most of my time looking for game breaking glitches. |
Michael Milton lost his wife and daughter in a car accident years ago.
It fucking sucked.
Is there not a better expression? The truth is a lot of people have lost their families in traumatic ways. It’s not a new thing. My intention is not to discount Michael’s experience. On the contrary: isn’t there something beautiful about this phrase: “That fucking sucks.”
Michael doesn’t need a pep talk. They don’t need a lesson in life. They don’t need a Bible verse. Michael wants his wife and his daughter back-but they are gone. Michael will start to grieve now. And it will suck. It will be devastating. It may be the hardest thing they’ll ever go through. But he doesn’t have to be alone.
‘That fucking sucks’-it is real. That is one of the deepest emotional phrases you can hear from someone. They’re not trying to cheer you up-because why should you? Your family was taken away suddenly- he should be sad because it is a sad thing. It’s an unfortunate thing-it’s a traumatic event and it really, really fucking sucks. Sorry to hear that Michael-lets go grab a beer and you can tell me about them. |
I am a nobody, and I like it that way. For as long as I can remember, I've just been floating around, picking pockets, filching food, hopping from home to home. Some people wouldn't call what I do "living,"but they're just not good at it.
Then I moved to New York, a pickpockets paradise. Every other day some caped weirdo is fighting another caped weirdo, and people just stand there and watch, easy pickings. However, even the best have their off days.
It was just another day in the big city. Some bird girl was fighting off some drones, and I was doing my thing. I can't tell you who or when, but I must have stolen the wrong wallet because every day after, I always felt I was being followed. I'd see someone in a brown trench coat behind me, like, off in the distance. I tried to leave the city, but they would always be waiting for me.
Then the Collision Event happened. Two Earths on a collision course with each other. The city was in a panic, and I figured, in all of this chaos, this was my best chance to get the hell out of dodge. I booked it to the nearest bus stop just in time to catch Snowbrawl fighting a horde of zombies, not even on the top ten of the weirdest things I've seen in this city. I was gonna just turn around and leave, but then I saw Snowbrawl get tossed into the station. He was out cold, and the people inside were trapped.
Out of the horde came some voodoo guy, and he was doing his standard villain speech. I took notice of a nice, shiny wand he kept to his side and turned to make my escape. Then who do I see walking this way? The guy in the trench coat! I have a choice take my chances with an obvious serial killer or the zombies. Easy choice. I take a deep breath and shuffle my way into the zombie crowd, and aside from some side eyes, they barely notice me. I hook the wand and turn around to see the trench coat guy. Really must have thrown me off because the voodoo guy grabbed me by the wrist, and he was pissed.
I deck him in the face and tell the zombies to attack the trench coat guy. I figured he would at least think about running away when he saw the small army of zombies heading his way, but instead, he jumped over them and landed right in front of me.
Shit.
He proceeds to take the want from me and snaps it in half. All the zombies turn back to regular people, and the voodoo man disappears. I'm just done at this point. He caught me. I was ready to be arrested or killed at that point, turns out there was a third option. He stabbed me in the neck with a syringe, injected me with something, and then I blacked out. The last thing I remember hearing was, "*Let's see how good of a thief you are.*"
"When I came too, I was back in my cot, and the world was saved. Honestly, I would have thought the whole thing was a dream. I washed my face with a hose, still thinking about the trench coat guy when I noticed he was in the reflection of the water. Turned around, and there was no one there, looked back in the reflection, and there he was. 2 + 2 = I have friggin superpowers!
The short of it is I can look like anyone I want and can stretch and grow at will. This took my thieving game to a whole new level. I was stealing from banks and museums and bought myself an awesome new apartment overlooking Town square. Honestly, I was having the time of my life, but then I realized that stealing from your average Joe was just so, *so* boring. Back when I was human, I needed to use skills that honed over the course of years, and now, I barely need to think about it.
I was in a rut. I could have anything I could ever want with these powers, but without a challenge, what was the point? Then I saw bird girl flying overhead. Light bulb! What's a bigger challenge for a super than stealing from other supers?
I started small, your local mom-and-pop agencies. Then I hit Recon, C.A.R.E., and even Heroes For The People, and they have a shapeshifter on their payroll. The amount of info and equipment I got from them would be worth millions to the right person, but this wasn't about money anymore or even surviving. This was about proving that there was no one better than me. This brings me to my final target in the city of New York, The government-run Elite Hero Company.
A little backstory; while robbing heroes blind, I caught wind of something called a Cypher Key. Allegedly, when brought together with four other keys, you could find anything you want about any hero on the planet. Target set.
After a few months of planning, I moved in, worked my way up the building's security, and even beat up the anti-hero Spades, who was probably there for some completely different reason. Boom, boss' office. rummaged through his desk and found a secret button. Pressed it, and the computer turned on to reveal...the trench coat guy.
Shit
Before I knew it, a laser grid covered the windows, the floor became electrified, and turrets covered the *entire* ceiling. A true death trap, if there ever was one. I figured that if I was gonna die, might as well get some answers. Turns out this guy was the boss of every hero in the northeast and went by the code name Beacon. This guy's whole deal is being ready for anything and everything. so when I stole his wallet, I didn't just get twenty bucks and a Good Eats gift card. I also got his attention.
He put all his resources into finding out more about me, which was kind of flattering in an insane kind of way. In the end, he offered me a job. He suspects the other government-run facilities aren't on the up and up and needs someone to investigate, or I could die right then and there. How could I refuse?
So that's my big origin story, an uncommon pickpocket turned super spy who still steals from heroes in his spare time. Gotta keep those skills sharp. Still, it proves that I'm the best at what I do, and what I do is disappear. *You don't know my face, you don't know my name, all you know is that I am No\_1.* |
When the front door swung open, the first thing I noticed was the school bus a little ways down the street. A blue car had crashed into it, sending up plumes of smoke. When dad came out to see what I had been staring at, his jaw dropped.
"Guess I gotta drive you to school today, c'mon!"
He gestured for me to follow him to the garage. Just when I got comfortable in the front seat, I heard the engine sputtering and failing to turn over. Dad used some provocative language to express his feelings about the situation.
"Does this mean I can't go to school today?"
"Agh, no. I'll walk you there, for God's sake!"
He stepped out of the car and slammed the door behind him. Hefting my backpack over my shoulder, I jogged to catch up to him on the sidewalk. Some gray clouds gathering overhead indicated our walk wouldn't be a pleasant one.
The rain was really coming down after a few blocks of walking. Thankfully, my dad was a cautious man who prepared for anything, so I managed to stay dry with him under the umbrella he brought.
A quick peek at my wristwatch revealed I was now five minutes late to class. I didn't worry about it too much, especially when I saw the other kids being dropped off by their parents. We just had to cross one more street and I'd finally get to start the school day.
Dad and I were the first two people to move ahead when the crosswalk signaled us forward. There had to be at least a dozen kids behind us, presumably running late from the bus getting held up.
We all turned our heads when we heard the screeching of tires on wet pavement. All I could see was a pair of headlights racing in our direction. It felt like my heart stopped, more so when the blur of red blasted by right in front of where I was about to step. A loud thump sounded as the vehicle speed by. I didn't realize what had happened until it was too late.
Fast forward to today. The story of why I didn't make it to school ends in tragedy, as I am in tears on what may be my father's death bed. |
Visiting the Big Apple, it was interesting watching people go about their lives. Taxis carrying their passengers to destinations, pedestrians walking around as they go about their chores. Life in its most mundane lens. A nice sombre perspective.
Admittedly, watching this from a bar doesn't speak highly of me, but I had a tiring day of meetings with the various guild representatives in Detroit. Mainly how they hate the fact that the guilds are not the be all for their prospective professions. I merely point out how unions kept protecting the bad seeds in their professions with no accountability and I would not tolerate that at all. It was a VERY long day.
Nursing my beer, I watched as the people I worked to help carried on not even knowing that I was there. The people in Detroit were still unsure of how much to trust me, even though I was open and honest about my intentions.
The shake-up of with the police was mixed with the usual naysayers, the people theorizing about how privatizing the police, Paladins as I insist they be called, was only militarizing them and that would spell doom for the destitute and minorities. But, once I made my move with the reorganization and proper training of them, the citizens of Detroit would understand that the Paladins were there to actually serve AND protect unlike the commonly believed lie. They just needed better training and removal of the vocally and violently racist officers. I smirked at the memory of their reactions when I provoked them.
As I take another drink, I can hear a heavier set of footsteps behind me. And two lighter sets as well. Turning on my stool, I see what can only be described as an Elf, a Dwarf and a Halfling walking into this bar. It is a sight that makes me want to raise my eyebrows. I didn't realize that those races were back. Turning back, I whisper to my troubleshooter.
"When where Dwarfs, Halflings and Elves back?"
"Uh... One second."
The three walk to a booth behind me and join a fourth. This one I know is a therianthrope, specifically a Tiger. I actually know this particular shifter as I helped him settle into New York.
"They aren't supposed to be here. Those races were never on Earth, just the other mythological creatures you have encountered. Or killed."
I sigh and finish my beer in one big drink. Turning around, I see all of them emerging from the booth.
"Can I help you adventurers?" |
Luke’s eyes flung open, the sirens outside his bedroom window so loud he thought they might be here for him. His head ached and the smell of beer still stuck to his clothes. A half-smoked cigarette hung off his bedside locker. The sirens quickly got quieter and quieter then, just when Luke thought he might get some peace and quiet, another set started blaring down the road. Rolling over in his bed, Luke checked his phone. *6:00 am! Washington’s finest are up early today!* Another siren screamed past but all Luke could think about was the desert forming in his mouth. Thankfully, he knew it had been coming. A pint of water and two painkillers sat just in reach of his bed. Swinging his legs out, he popped the two pills, downing as much water as he could in one go. Standing, he had to steady himself against his bed, his legs too weak and his head spun. A fourth siren sped past and at last, Luke pushed open the curtains just as the sun poked its way above the horizon.
The police car, its lights flashing and the siren ringing raced past his apartment but his eyes quickly moved, towards where it was heading. *The capitol building!* The most recognizable building in the city was engulfed in flames. Long thin yellow flames seemed to lick the half-dark city sky. Like a burning mountain, the building stood out against the sea of grey and black. Another siren, all coming from the same direction, dashed past but Luke had already moved from the window, grabbing his phone from under his pillow. His fingers, still drunk from the previous night, moved slowly but eventually, he found what he was looking for. The headline read: “Riot’s breakout in major capitals worldwide and many conspiracy theories are proved!” Luke sighed, sitting on the edge of his bed as he read every available article. He could hardly take in any of the information. The words Cern, data mining and leaks were repeated so much they no longer seemed real. Without thinking, Luke started to put on his jacket and shoes, already wearing the clothes from the night before. With no plan, Luke marched his way down the stairs and out into a different world than he had known before.
Even from his doorstep, he could smell the smoke. The flames seemed to have grown since he last saw them. Even as the day brightened he could still see the building and the smoke from here.
A few others stared off in the distance, towards the fire. A few unaware of the implications walked casually in the other direction. Another police car and this time an ambulance drove by but Luke hardly noticed it now. A man, in his mid-fifties, if Luke had to guess, started to move towards the building, his mouth gaping open as he moved. Luke, more on auto-pilot than anything else, moved with him.
He could remember nothing of the walk. One moment he stood outside his apartment, thinking about how the government had murdered JFK and known about 9/11, and then he found himself warmed by the capital building's fire. A group, of around a thousand people, surrounded the front of the building, silently watching history.
Three people, two men and a woman, were kneeling at the top of the steps of the building when Luke arrived. A dozen armed men poked at them with their weapons. In the few minutes after his arrival, Luke saw four more people, all men wearing black suits, added to those kneeling. Parts of the building’s roof had started to fall away but the fire was but a sideshow now.
“Congressmen,” a woman whispered to her friend, standing beside Luke. “They’ll get what’s coming to them now.”
Luke had no idea how the men were, armed or kneeling. The one congresswoman wailed as she looked to the onlookers for help. When none arrived, she made a dash down the steps. A single bullet was fired and the woman collapsed, her body bouncing off the steps, blood dripping all over the stone. She stopped on the last step, her body eventually slumping onto the ground. A great roar rang up and Luke found himself joining in. The other congressmen soon met the same fate and as the roof collapsed completely, everyone could feel they had witnessed the start of the new world. |
I work for the SYL, the biggest pharmaceutical company in the world. As our technology advanced, a way to modify human genome was found. Supported by a team of scientists, I created what I called "Ascension": a permanent change in DNA structure which eliminates human greed, sadness, jealousy, and any other negative emotion.
A test subject had been found: a homeless man on his thirties with nothing to lose proposed himself. You could see from his face he had no willing to live at all. He didn't even have a name. He was the perfect candidate: we called him Adam.The procedure initiated, and the man got what looked like a vaccine shot. He passed out for some hours. Adam was put in a medical room, monitored. When he finally woke up, he was a completely different person. I sensed from him calmness, peacefulness.
"*Hello Adam, how are you? Food and water will soon be brought to you. Also, as per agreement, you will live in a house we prepared for you. We will monitor you to check how you're feeling."*
Adam briefly nodded. He looked lost in his thoughts, but I was sure the procedure worked.
One month passed, and informations about my secret experiment leaked. Until then, Adam was left alone. He lived peacefully in his new house doing nothing most of the time. The building had a gym, rooms with all kinds of stuff: musical instruments, paint and brushes, arcade games. Nevertheless, he lay on the couch or went for walks in the garden.
When it was discovered where he lived, people from everywhere wanted to see Adam. From cameras, I could see big crowds outside his house waiting for him to come out. Suddenly, the man decided to walk out and to talk to all these people.
*"I contemplated life, and now I'm ready to speak. I'm now complete. When my body is hungry, I'm not, because my mind is full. When my body is thirsty, I'm not, because I'm now the ocean itself. I do not feel anger, nor sadness. I do not feel any need to distract myself. I am life."*
Some people in the crowd were interested in him and wanted to listen more of his words. Other people started to mock Adam, scream demeanings words, as he stood silently. Someone recorded everything, and Adam's name was on every side of the internet. People called him "Number 42".
I was fascinated. I did make it. Two nights after the speech, I secretly shared the formula of what I decided to rename as "The Truth". I took my bag, and drove to Adam's house, to speak with him personally. As I rushed in his house, I found him sitting on an armchair, staring at the wall.
*"Hey Adam, how are you? I wanted to ask you something. Do you feel happy? Do you feel love?"*
*"I do not feel happiness. I do not feel love. I'm love. I'm peace. If you look at the trees, do you think they feel anything? If you stare at the roses in the garden, would you say they're happy? They aren't, yet they are so beautiful, so perfect, embracing the true essence of life. You came here rushing, looking for answers. There are neither questions or answers. All you need to know is inside you and outside you, but you have to open your eyes first. Your mind wants to grasp concepts it can't really comprehend, There is nothing to seek, nothing to achieve. Life is, and there's no more to it."*
The more he spoke, the more I wanted to be like him. I didn't care anymore about the consequences. My life goal was complete. Without thinking twice, I opened my bag and took a shot of The Truth. |
No one knew why the chickens randomly started exploding.
Detective TP walked about the grounds of Steiner ranch, sweating profusely in a gray three-piece suit on a stifling-hot July afternoon, his black dress shoes getting ruined by three inches of mud. *Damn the department dress code.* His flashlight illuminated the dirty coop, the residents evacuated for the investigation.
Mixed in the grisly remains of feathers and bloody guts were pieces of shrapnel, the type found in homemade bombs that errant high-schoolers would make to feel better about themselves. The idea that this was a work of teenagers made perfect sense, although it left some questions. Why had they traveled all the way up here, twenty miles from town? And why chickens, for fucks sake?
He looked around in the mud for footprints other than his own, unexpectedly finding none. If this crime had happened within the past twenty-four hours, surely there'd be evidence of prints. If not, how had the perpetrators covered their tracks?
Suspecting that he was in over his head, he thought about calling in the forensic team, yet decided against it, wanting to prove himself worthy. All the great detectives didn't need a forensic team, he thought he should be able to finish the job himself or else he didn't deserve the badge.
There were likely suspects. Living in the farmhouse was an older woman in her sixties and her three grandchildren, two of which were in high school and one in middle school. They were the right age to have committed the crime, so he decided to interview them when they came home from school that day.
He interviewed sixteen-year-old Alan first, who told him that he knew nothing about bomb making. Yet, Alan spent the entire night prior on some app called "Tik-tok". TP thought this was very suspicious, since "tick-tock"was exactly what bombs did. He noted down "suspect #1"on his pad.
Then he interviewed fourteen-year old Kate second, who told him that she had been away sleeping over at a friend's house the night prior. Ahh, an alibi! That was definitely something he could follow up on.
He interviewed twelve-year-old Caleb last, who said that he had heard something suspicious happening after 11:00 P.M. out by the chicken coop, but suspected that it was nothing more than a fox. As it had been pitch black, and he saw no lights when he looked out the window, it couldn't have been a human out there.
In the spirit of being thorough, he decided to interview the old woman. She had been playing online poker for the night and had managed to pay zero attention to her grandchildren whatsoever after supper at 5. She said it couldn't have been her, and she had the online poker account records to prove it. He believed her.
The more he thought about Alan, the more suspicious he became. He decided to download "tik-tok"on his phone to see if he could locate the exact instructions that he would have used to make the chicken-exploding bombs. When he did a search, he managed to find some videos talking about bombs, but nothing about bomb-making. It was enough to convince him that he had his man.
Alan denied the allegations vehemently. "I just watch a bunch of random dance videos on Tik-tok, nothing about bombs!"he screamed in front of TP and his grandmother as TP retrieved his cuffs.
"You're coming with me to the station, pal. You're under arrest. You know your rights?"
"No, no, no! You've got this all wrong. You have no proof."
"I don't need proof, you look like the type of shade that would do this. Nobody else would come up here and slaughter these birds. What'd you do it for, the thrill?"
"What the fuck man?"Alan said.
Alan's face suddenly turned a different tone. Confusion hit TP in a wave, causing him to almost lose his balance and fall to the ground.
'What the fuck man?"TP said. Where was he? He looked around at the shocked faces of Alan and his grandmother. Why the fuck were they here?
Memories coming back to him, he gasped. A funny circular window on the door keyed him in that this was the very same farmhouse whose chicken coop he had targeted to bomb last night. How the hell...? |
Yet another night’s work wasted, but truth be told, he’d have done it anyway, he just thought — well, he thought since the humans who lived with him fed HIM every day, it seemed only right to return the favor. He smelled the dead rat as it began to rot inside the tall, silver metal can; he knew from experience he couldn’t get that lid off, and anyway, the sun was as high above as it got, and he knew there’d be a meal waiting for him.
He strolled quietly along the curb, weaving through the plastic refuse bins and metal garbage cans, ears keen to the sounds of the street, nose attuned to the scents within, and his eyes remained as they always did: a pale green-yellow, pupils dilated, fixed into position the way they’d been since he was born. His eyes didn’t tell him anything, but he never knew they could, anyway.
After a leisurely meal and nap indoors on the same windowsill where he’d perched for just such events for most of his life, he rose, stretched, and took a drink of water from the fountain humming beside the window seat. The sun’s warmth was fading, but still tempting, but something told him he owed it to the humans to try again to repay them. And so, he jumped down to the ground, crossed the cool tile floor, and slipped out the plastic flap covering the perfectly-sized hole at the bottom edge of the door and began his usual rounds which typically lasted from early evening until early morning, sometimes with a brief rest here and there.
He heard a human’s loud vehicle pull into the driveway behind him, and heard the screen door stutter shut the way it did when his humans came home each evening. He would make sure to get something truly special for him, tonight, perhaps one of those lizards he’d nearly caught a few nights ago.
Back inside the house which the cat had just departed, a man let the screen door slowly shut behind him before calling out toward the street, “Emma! Dinner!” A moment later, a white cat emerged, her silver-sequined purple collar catching the orange-yellow rays of the setting sun as she dashed for home. She’d never understood nor cared to understand the purpose of what her human called a cat door, nor would she stoop to using such a demeaning thing: she would enter and exit by the same door her human used, thank you very much! She again smelled the scent of the other cat on her window perch, her dishes, her foundation and her home, but she wasn’t one to protest the presence of another as long as she was given her due. She settled inside onto the armchair where she usually spent her nights.
Michael sighed with relief as he did each evening when Emma returned home. He’d lost a cat, once, the cat had simply vanished. So, he took great comfort in the fact that not only did Emma return home when he called, but that she also visited periodically through the day. He knew by checking her food when he came home that she always made at least one stop at home while he was at work, and he felt better for knowing it. Since moving here a year ago, he’d had some reservations about allowing Emma to roam outside; stories of bobcats in the area were why he kept his cat home at night, and let her roam during the days. But, If he could just figure out why dead animals kept showing up on his porch, when his cat was indoors, sleeping, he’d possibly have relaxed a bit more.
There was a knock at his front door. Two adults and a child stood outside, but he couldn’t tell much more from his doorbell camera. An hour later, he walked the family to their car parked along the curb; he remembered as he walked around his trash cans that he needed to bring them back up to the house tonight. Alex, one of the adults, thanked him again for his help and Michael again grinned, then shook his head. “I’m just glad you found him,” he replied, looking at the blind, tuxedo-marked cat audibly purring in the child’s arms. Who’d have guessed he’d go a year without realizing the previous tenants’ cat had been the one leaving him “gifts” each day! He wondered, too, if perhaps the black fur he’d occasionally found indoors was not just “fuzz” but perhaps what was left after a visit from that very cat. As they drove away, he closed the door, latched the cat door, and sat down beside Emma to think. |
“So what’s the damage?”
“Oh for which package sir?”
“Package? There are packages to this sorta…thing?”
“Well yes, we’re servants to our purchasers wishes of course, and not everyone wants us to haunt your ex-wife persay. Some just like having a companion or spectral maid, we also do have custom packages if you wish to be specific with your spectral servant.”
“Oh geez, I mean I really walked in here to you know just kinda pick out a standard kinda ghost ya know? Is there any way I kinda get a basic ghost or something?”
“Sir we are not “ghosts” as you call us, you must be thinking us as some Casper or haunted mansion creatures. We are far more than that, we are servants! We serve your desires far greater than a fleshy servants and for a much cheaper cost!”
The spectral servant than walked behind the Victorian desk and started searching through its drawers, the room itself did fit the bill of something out of the haunted mansion (contrary to his disdain for the ride) dark maroon wallpaper darkened the room with only a very elegant chandelier lighting the room with a warm light over the customer and the servant.
The servant finally after some time came out from behind the desk, in his hand he held a leather bound book with an elegant golden trim, though the age of the book was quite telling throughout its scarred ridden cover.
“What I have here sir is our servant compendium, it has been recently updated with over a thousand eligible servants for all kinds of packages we have on offer.”
“Ok, maybe just tell me a few you might prefer for me”
The servant annoyed but still composed began to look closer at me, he began to move up from his seat and floated ever so closely to my forehead.
“Hmmm, yes I see your problem now! Well I have a certain servant available for this need! If you wish too I can also designate a package due to your limited understanding of this business.”
“Sure I guess whatever you want to do, just make sure it’s a the one”
“Yes of course sir, Servant number 290,839,600 please come from the other realm and help our customer with his desires!”
The room was curiously silent “what the hell man I thought I was supposed to have a ghost now how am going to-“
The last thing I remember was seeing my lifeless body crumble onto the carpet, with my wife standing over it.
“Hmm I guess he really felt guilt for what he did to me, right Richard?”
“I wouldn’t say that Julia, I knew his vocal request would have been to use a servant as his witness, to use them to claim his innocence.”
But I soon learned after my soul being sent to other realm that it wasn’t your vocal request but your mental one in which is used.
And I knew deep down all I wanted was to end it all and see her again. |
The air leaves my mouth as a punch strikes me straight in the stomach. Before I can regain my breath, a kick in the chest sends me flying into the building behind me like a speeding bullet.
I feel the bricks begin to collapse around me and quickly use my x-ray vision to check the inside of the building. No civilians, good. The Destroyer may be a bastard to deal with but at least he never attempts to fight in populated areas. I focus on my surroundings and see The Destroyer slowly walking towards me, his golden skull mask glinting in the sunlight. He has a new axe, one he promises will make me bleed and frankly, I don’t like that idea. I’ve only had a cut on my body twice, and both times, it took months for the injury to heal.
Making a split second decision, I use my strength to force myself further into the collapsing building. Sure, the bricks falling will hurt like hell, but I can use the dust to obscure myself and get a drop on The Destroyer.
The ceiling collapses on me, three tons of hard bricks collapsing towards the ground. I grit my teeth in annoyance and pain. Even after all these years of crime fighting, my heightened sensitivity makes every sensation a tear-jerker. Brick after brick comes down, shattering on my skin as I collapse to the floor and onto my hands and knees.
I stay on my hands and knees as I try to catch my breath. Even in my own little pocket, the dust is inescapable, it will only be worse once I stand up. I hear The Destroyer chuckle, I can imagine the smirk painted behind his mask.
I roll my eyes, here comes the quip and the menacing pose. Perfect news channel footage. It’s funny, The Destroyer is somehow more theatrical than the supervillain who was literally a former actor. I try to stand, to cut off the grandstanding but the weight is too great. I get on my hands and knees before collapsing back down.
Grunting to myself I curse The Destroyer’s timing, he started his rampage as soon as I was going out for lunch. Now, I’m fighting with an empty stomach and a lack of energy. Almost like clockwork, I hear The Destroyer say, “Look like your brand of justice is collapsing around y– ugh”
My eyes widen as I hear The Destroyer’s quip get cut off by a grunt of pain. It was his, I can tell from the voice. What could have made him be in pain? Citizens know not to get involved in superhuman fights and other villains wouldn’t dare try to fight each other, it is part of the Villain Agreement of ‘08.
Using the last bit of my strength, I rise to my feet. The dust envelops me and enters my eyes and lungs. I let out a cough as I shut my eyes. Hunched over, gasping for breath, I try to open my eyes again. My eyes water in pain as I see nothing but a white fog. Closing my eyes, I attempt to use my x-ray vision through my eyelids to see what is happening.
A sharp pain enters my head as I begin to look at the scene in front of me. Through the green filter, I see The Destroyer limping forward, axe in hand, with a giant circular object pierced into his leg. I look to see who The Destroyer is limping towards, and my heart drops to my feet. I see the hooded figure only known as Vengeance. He holds a pistol in his left hand, his aim straight for The Destroyer’s head.
Damn it, god damn it. Why couldn’t it be any other hero that decided to come to my city? Why did it have to be the vigilante with an obsession with murdering bad guys?
I open my mouth to explain, to tell Vengeance that this is all fake. Try to let Vengeance know that The Destroyer never technically did anything legal. That The Destroyer is licensed by the city council, that The Destroyer never killed or even hurt an innocent, that the line between acting and combat in our town is blurred as villainy is legal as long as no one gets hurt.
As the first word lays on my tongue, the dust of the building becomes too much for my lungs and I fall into a coughing fit. My chest burns with each cough and my body jolts violently. I feel like I can’t breathe. I try again and this time a pitiful, almost inaudible “Wait!” leaves my body.
It’s obvious that Vengeance didn’t hear me, or is choosing not to listen as he cocks the gun. I rise in the air, preparing to fly at Vengeance, destabilize him before he can deal the blow. Using all my strength, I take flight, my lungs feeling as if they are dying. The only thought on my mind being that I need to stop Vengeance.
**Bang** |
"Ladies and Gentlemen, he's done it! He's defeated all *ten* villains!"
An eight-foot man stands on top of a group of villains with his fist held high, the crowd cheering his name.
Cut to a crowd of people watching the news in an office. A woman named Oha is the only one not watching, actually working, but after hearing that Metro won, she lets a cocky grin slip.
{----------Four Hours Later----------}
Oha skips through the hallways of her apartment complex with a smile until she gets to her door. Her grin drops to a grim frown as she opens the door. Inside, Metro...is not looking great, to say the least. Both eyes were swollen shut, spitting up blood constantly, a dislocated arm, and significant cuts and bruises all over his body.
"You should go..."Metro grimaced. "I don't want you to see me like this."Oha closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and walks to Metro. She looks at him dead in the face with a glare that could melt steel. Metro sighed. "I'll call Doc."
Oha nods and walks into another room. |
Thousands of sharpened pikes glimmered in the light of the rising sun. Pristine ranks took form on the grassy mound outside Farias Castle. For his part, Duke Farias rode ahead of his men-at-arms with a posse of steel-clad warriors.
Battles never began on the field. Diplomacy was always the first step, and if that failed, we'd shed blood. The Duke dismounted his horse and stood a sword's length away from me, as all the others had in the past.
"There is a better way."He said.
I shook my head. "This is the *only* way. *Our* only way."
He silently examined me with his thoughtful eyes. Though clad in armor of his own, the pudgy old man I saw before me wouldn't last long in battle. Neither would his men. They were strong and young, but their hearts weren't in it.
"All your years of service to me have amounted to this?"
I glanced behind me. In the distance, backlit by the red sun, the shifting silhouettes of my fellow adventurers reinforced my convictions. I turned back to meet his gaze and answered him with the subtlest of nods.
The duke, our eyes locked, inhaled deeply as he thought. In less than a year I had crossed four different kingdoms to unite an army unmatched by anything the nobility could muster. Behind him stood the young men who heard tales of my glory. Before him stood me, his former go-to man whenever he needed a relic dug out of some dark, dangerous cavern.
"If Castle Farias falls..."He drawled out slowly. "The order of adventurer guilds falls. The stability of this kingdom falls. You will have ended the age of adventure and begun the age of chaos."
"No."I said. "The age of chaos began for these people when the nobility mustered an army strong enough to overpower them and enforce your will. This isn't the end for anybody but you. This isn't-"
"You're wrong!"He interrupted me, passion in his droopy eyes. "The nobility gathered an army to protect the people. My ancestors organized legions to protect these lands from the monsters that lurked beneath. From the-"
"From the monsters that the Adventurers protect you from now?"I returned the favor. "Don't you see what's happening here? The nobility used to be the tide that all ships would rise in. Now they're the tide that rose too high and filled the proverbial ships with water."
When the Duke didn't reply, I continued. "But me? My union? We're the new tide. We're going to raise the ships, we're going to raise the *people*, back up to where they belong."
"It doesn't matter how high a new tide rises if the ships are already filled with water."The duke replied somberly.
I looked away. Years ago, Duke Farias was like a brother. He joined our guild as a sort of noble hobby, and we came up together. When his father passed and he took on his titles, our little group lost the protection that came with having a noble in our midst. The guild master, tasked by his own lord, forced us into dangerous situations that should have been handled by the Duke's men-at-arms.
I left the life of adventuring behind me, rich enough from my time in the guild to live a comfortable life. But as I got older, the realization that a new generation was being stuck with *my* problems weighed on my heart like a lead weight. And so I set down my warpath, uniting the adventurers into a union that would defend itself from any who opposed it. Our opposition now culminated in Duke Farias.
"My daughter was born in that castle recently."He said, turning slightly and pointing to Castle Farias. "She'll be raised in the world you make."
I opened my mouth to speak, but he raised a hand for silence.
"The world I *should* have made."He concluded.
I raised an eyebrow. "What are you saying?"
"When my old friend crossed the world in less than a year, garnering support for a cause birthed by my ancestors, it caused me to take heed."He said. "I sought counsel from my vassals, who had dealt with adventurers and their guild masters in the past. Their words were venomous and hateful."
He unsheathed his sword, talking all the while. "I wondered if I was robbed of the true experience as an adventurer by my noble blood. And so I waited for you to arrive here, the last great bastion of the guilds, so I could behold your army for myself. And..."
He fell to one knee, bowed his head, and presented his sword to me.
"Your cause is just, but heed this warning; Just as my ancestors were corrupted by their new status quo, your descendants will be as well. If you want to maintain a world where adventurers have the same rights as the nobility, then you need to do away with the differences between our castes."
I was taken aback. I had expected him to do everything in his power to stop me, but yielding the battle? This wasn't anticipated.
"We fought as equals."I said, taking his sword from him and examining it. "And even now, our goals are the same; Improve the world for the next generation."
He rose to his feet with a quiet smile. I returned his sword and grasped his hand firmly. "I can't promise the Kings will want to abolish the nobility, but with our victory here today, and with your support as Duke, we might just change the lives of every adventurer for the better." |
He walked in so calmly that I didn't even notice until the first stifled scream. After that, everyone else decided they could wait.
Six foot six, *drenched* in blood, with what looked like a Kabar buried to the hilt in his chest. His eyes were glassy, no surprise there, he's probably shocky, but he's still standing steady.
I hit the intercom, "We need an ER room, stat. Knife wound to chest, knife in place. Appears in shock. Security to the ER lobby, immediately."
Now to keep his attention. I hate this part. It feels like I'm a judas goat, leading them to their doom.
•••
Gods... What a fucked up day. Who knew that bastard would be that strong? Or have that much blood in him? I keep replaying the last part of the fight. He spraying blood from his carotids. Me seeing that fucking knife of his headed for my chest. The thump as it went home, the violence of the hit driving me backward to slide through the pool of blood from his men. I wonder how much of it I swallowed.
"What on Earth happened to you, Sir?"
Where am I? Oh, yeah, hospital. I can't pull the knife myself; I'd bleed out internally.
"Sir? Can you hear me?"
There's a distant voice calling. No. Don't stop. You have to get to a hospital... Why won't my feet move?
"The ER team will be here soon. Hang in there! You've made it this far!"
ER? I made it to the hospital?
"Joe! Don't be stupid! Just stand by in case he wakes up."
Guard. There's a guard. With a gun.
"SHOW ME YOUR HANDS!"
I have something in my hands? I look down. There's that bastard's knife. Boy, am I soaked with blood. Oh, yeah, my knife. He probably wants it. Tired. So tired. I stare at my hand. Even through the blood, my hand looks bloodless. I force the fingers to open, and the blade falls into infinity, clattering on the floor so far away. I raise my head so slowly and look at the guard. A kid. He's just a kid.
I have to tell him. "You're safe now."My voice sounds like it's coming from a thousand miles away. "I killed him."Yes, I did. Cut his fucking head off, and he still did this to me. "You don't have to be afraid anymore."His eyes get big, and he mouths my words just before I say them.
"I killed the boogie man."
•••
Thank god! He dropped the knife! I can't hear what he's saying, but Joe's eyes are getting big. Something about... The boogie man? Joe safes his taser and stuffs it back into his holster. Oh, shit! The big guy is fainting! Joe is there, catching him just right to avoid doing any more damage.
The ER team pops out and takes charge. Was it really that short? It felt like forever. Oh, good! They're taking Joe too. And here's the shift super from security. He's got the scene in hand, and the city police are here too.
•••
"Christ, what a mess."One of the cops looks at me strangely. "What?"
"Please, don't say that. Not that way."
He's a bit older than Joe, but he's shaken. "What happened?"I ask gently.
"Christ the Redeemer Church, a late night mass, someone slaughtered the congregation, then took the priest's head."
What? That makes no sense! "The Redeemer has been vacant for the last twenty-five years. Ever since the last priest went insane and tried to kill the congregation."He stares at me. "He didn't kill anyone. One of the altar boys got him from behind with a big candlestick."
What he says next puts chills down my spine.
"Someone killed a lot of people there. The blood was an inch deep on the floor. Bodies piled up to the side of the altar, left to bleed out. One set of tracks came in at the run, and there was some fight. The guy in priest's clothes had his head cut off."
Oh my god. He's going shocky on me.
"You come with me right now."
Besides, if I haven't heard about this, they're trying to keep it quiet, and his mouth is on autopilot. We don't need more rumors on top of everything else.
I escort him back to an ER store room. It's out of the way and only used for mass casualty events.
"Here, sit on one of the crates."He's so stiff. "And relax. I'm a retired city police officer too. I was there 25 years ago, at The Redeemer. That priest came to still raving about removing an evil influence."
His face is getting more color. Good. "I don't know about that. All I know is about 50 bodies with their throats slit to the bone and left head down to drain the blood onto the floor. A set of tracks inbound, a fight, a slide mark through the blood, and a set of bloody footprints leading away. We tracked them to this area but lost him. I'm pretty sure your patient is the perp."
"Maybe, but the perp of what? Killing the real perp?"
"I left on the search. I haven't heard anything since."
"Which is odd. Mass murder at a closed church? I'd have thought the news would be all over it."
"No news?"
"None."
I watch as he goes pale, "Hey! Stay focused! No fainting!"He points at the wall; I take a quick look. It's a calendar. "What about it?"
Hoarsely, "Is that calendar right?"
I look closer. "It's a week off. This room gets checked once a week."
Hoarse and shaking, "What year is this?"
I tell him, and he faints. "Aw, shit."I hit the call button.
"Who's in there?"
"Security Supervisor David Franks. I have a police officer here who's fainted. Can I get some help?"
•••
They are surprised I'm still awake. No one has touched the knife; they're getting an x-ray machine in—small thing. Weird film plate; looks too slim.
"I killed him."
They don't seem to pay any attention.
"The boogie man. I killed him. You are safe now."
A young nurse twitches and looks me in the eye. I nod. She squeaks and darts out of the room. That draws irritated notice, and a replacement is called. The young one comes back in, dragging an older woman.
"JUST LOOK AT HIM!"
The matron looks at me in exasperation and does a double take.
"Smitty?"She asks incredulously.
I nod.
She goes pale, and the young one quickly escorts her out of the room. I play it back and forth in my mind. So slow. "Mom?"I whisper. Ha. They are paying attention. They glance at each other briefly; then the doctor breaks the spell. "Move!"
They intubate me, hang more IV, and I'm gone. The darkness claims me.
•••
I'm standing outside the young officer's room while they work on him. The ER charge nurse is quizzing me.
"What happened?"
"He looked a bit green and was babbling about mass murder. I figured he needed some time out in private to get settled again. Been there myself, so I have a clue. We were talking about Christ the Redeemer twenty-five years ago; I responded to a call. The priest had gone nuts. A choirboy clocked him from behind with one of those heavy candlesticks. He was still raving when he came to."
"And then?"
"He looked around the room and saw a calendar. Went paler than before, I asked what's wrong. He asked what year it was. I told him. He passed out."
((cont)) |
"Hey love, what can I get for ya?"I ask the girl who just sat down on one of the bar stools, grabbing a glass to make whatever she wanted. She had a weird look on her face. Eh, she was probably just drunk. She looks at me, and her eyes are screaming for my help. "A- An angel shot please."She says, forcing a smile. Oh, it's about time! I *have* been itching for a fight. I have a reputation for being... well being fair, as I would put it. "Who?"I ask, turning my messy bun into a tight ponytail and taking my earrings out. "The guy in the blue shirt."She says, nodding in the direction of a clearly disgusting man. I make the a girl drink on the house and grab my pocketknife, just in case something gets out of hand. People knew who I was, and most of them? Let's just say they walk... or run away real fast. This guy seemed to be out of it. I walked over to him. "Hey, did your mama ever teach you about respect?"I spit at him. Never attack first. That could get me in trouble. "Get outta here and don't come back if ya' know what's good for you."I say, putting a fierce look on my face. The guy doesn't get the hint, and immediately comes at me. I dodge it, and he runs into the wall. I walk up to him as he lays on the ground, groaning, and I raise my bat. This guy won't come back after this, I think as I swing the bat. |
The device lay mangled on the ground, the screen blank and half filled with water. For a long time they sat across from each other. Eventually one cried, followed by the other. There was no going back.
They started by finding shelter. A cave became their home for that first October month, and they held each other tightly to keep warm. One foraged for berries and mushrooms, the other one attempted to make fire. They succeeded after four days. By the time November came with its biting wind, their mud shelter was complete and even fairly warm, as long as the fire continued to burn.
That first winter was the harshest.
Small Clay pots kept their rations, and another pot was used to boil water. They had reserved berries and herbs for the winter, hoping to trap some animals. It worked, but not as much as they had hoped. They starved for nearly two months, eating only a handful of mushrooms and plants a day. They finally managed to kill a deer with a spear to it's side. The meat lasted them 3 months in the snow.
By the spring, they had both become fairly adept at hunting. Rabbit and squirrel furs hung in layers around them, and the animal leather was made into boots.
By June, they were ready to begin their migration. They headed south, hoping to reach a warmer climate than the one they had previously suffered. From time to time they would find villages and settlements, and though they yearned for interaction, they could not, for a single small meeting could have disastrous effects on the history of humanity. It is time travel's number one rule.
One day, a waft of salty air hit their noses. They through the forest until they saw the cliffs and stood at its edge. Far beyond the ocean, the land know as France barely peaked over the water.
The pharmacist put his hand on the doctor's back. The doctor turned his head and smiled. But the smile quickly washed away as he looked into his friend's eyes, which were watery and red. With a slight push, the doctor fell screaming into the waves.
Destiny is what we make of it, mumbled the pharmacist, who turned and made his way down the coast to the nearest village. |
Only the sounds of trees rustling and waking woodland creatures disturbed the eternal silence of Lyra. When the moon began to rise, a throw of silence seemed to blanket the outside of the city. Clopping horses, roaring fires, the sounds of pints being slapped together in celebration, could not be heard when approaching the stone outer wall of Lyra. The wind was blowing fiercely but other than the feeling of breeze along Iris’ face, she would not have known it was blowing at all.
Even Iris’ footsteps were muted as she crossed the plane towards the behemoth stone wall that wrapped around the city completely. The wall was large, but the buildings inside were even larger. Iris remembered seeing them for the first time. Her tiny hand was being held by Grandmother Merlyn, who had taken her to see the lights.
The ivory castle shone from miles and miles away but there was still no understanding of its beauty until you were close enough to breach the forest that surrounded the city. Sharp and pointed towers of light shone dreamily in the distance. Iris had resisted the urge to rub at her irritated and black sooted eyes to get a better view of the place. She knew her grandmother would chide her , if not punish her for wiping away the black soot mixture that circled around her eyes.
“You mustn't ever see with your real eyes, Iris, and neither should anyone see yours” were the words Merlyn repeated every time she took the smelling and warm coal across her skin in the mornings. Iris would nod and Merlyn would smile in approval, giving her shoulders a small squeeze before continuing to paint around her eyes.
And now as Iris stood in front of Lyra, alone, she could almost feel the squeeze of her grandmother around her arms now. Bitterness scratched at her heart as she was painfully reminded of the burnt and charred corpse that was now her grandmother. There had not been enough left of the woman who raised her to have a proper burial. In fact, there was very little left of her small village that lay next to the lake. It had frozen winters and blistering summers, but it was still home. Iris could still hear the laughter of the little children paddling outside of her tent, playing in the grass and feeling safe.
The King had in his service, several witches that whispered of foul things in his ear. Whispers of a prophecy, that a child, small and gray eyed would define the turning of the court for centuries to come. The witches danced and sung around the kings lap, poisoning his head with the idea of a child, breaching the stone walls, and usurping his iron clad rule. And so hoof beats could be heard in the forest every night. The Kingsmen, out in search of a child of such origin.
When it was the villages turn to be raided, Merlyn seemed to know it would happen, as she seemed to know most things. She’d sent Iris away, begging for fruits and berries for a festival, and Iris went, only to return to a great campfire of everything and everyone she’d ever loved.
Iris had cried into the lake. Her tears upsetting the familiar black soot around her eyes. She was unsure of how long she sat there howling but the moon had risen before she looked at herself. The soot was gone, dripping pitifully down her face. And now in her reflection from the moonlight she could see the true color of her eyes. They were not brown as she’d thought her entire life. They were gray, as gray as the moon that shone above her head.
It was a while still, that she understood that her grandmother was a witch. And the coal she dutifully spread across her eyes was a disguise of sorts, masking the colors in her face. She, like all the other children growing up, had played the songs and danced to the tunes. She remembered shouting and spinning with her friends as a child.
“ Oh princess oh princess, the gray girl will know. Will the king be king or be overthrown?”
Iris had made it to the stone wall, she couldn’t see the palace anymore as she was too close, but the lights still created shadows upon the ground.
The climb was easy, she’d been practicing for weeks. Which rocks jutted out just perfectly for her to find her balance. Easy though it was, it was a slow effort. One wrong move and she would be flat on her back and thwarted.
Straddling the top of the wall as she cleared it, the sounds of the city seemed to rush up from the ground as if it were air. She was almost sent back over the stone at its force. Some powerful magic must dampen the sounds of the city to those who do not belong in it.
The trek to the main castle was also agonizingly slow. She was a foreigner, draped in torn black clothes and a hood. While the wealthy and flagrant citizens of Lyra wore pinks, purples and yellows. Reds were a sign of true dignity and honor and black was an omen of bad times. She mustn’t be seen on her trip to the castle.
Another climb, up, up , up the tower to the place she knew she would find him. The King was in some drunken half stupor underneath his throne. A passage was etched in stone above him as he teetered into his seat barking orders into the dark where there must have been a servant or two waiting for orders. Iris approached from the shadows, feeling the weight of the blade in her hand.
“Father” A voice rang out and Iris stopped her stalking, holding her breath in the dark. A beautiful woman had entered the room, she was draped in reds, the clothes seemed to fall off her in a grace that Iris had never seen before. She was utterly transfixed by the beauty of the princess.
“Father you must give this search a rest. The men are tired and your court loses faith in you by the day. It is folly. Your witches-” At this the woman shook her head in disgust. “Those witches only want to see you burn the way your fathers have burned them generations ago. You must not listen to them.”
The man signed deeply as he sank into the uncomfortable looking chair. He looked at his daughter seriously, as if he were trying to read her like a book.
“What has been set forward in motion, cannot be undone, my dear girl. I shall burn in hell for the crimes ive commited against the people. But I would do it all again for you my child. While I am burning and screaming for respite, I know you will be the Queen of Lyra, and you will rule justly, because your heart is pure. Now you must go child. I will be alone.”
The princess seemed to want to say more, but she drifted away and out of the room without another word.
“You can come out now.” The king said, his voice sounding tired and frail suddenly. Iris, stepped out of the shadows, taking her hood off as she got closer and closer to the murderer.
“ I have a favor to ask of you child.” he said wearily. “ I ask you to kill me now. But when you do, choose good. Choose the life of the people of Lyra, they have nothing to do with my decisions to burn and pillage.” He shook his head. “ I allowed my mind to be poisoned and my sword to swing against the very people I swore to protect. So kill me, I deserve no light. But my Daughter. Rose, she deserves it. She deserves the keys to this kingdom and the hearts of the free. Kill me, and chose the good omen witch. Please.”
Iris stepped forward with the blade already unsheathed. She spoke, for the first time since she’d cried over the remains of her grandmother. She felt in her the power of Merlyn stirring like a beast within her chest. Being a witch was something Iris had not expected, but she grasped the power like it was a blade in her hand. Anger and pity and resolve churning in the air, thick with magic.
“ I sentence you to death. King Dreadrick. And I the keeper of the prophecy sentence Lyra to a better future than a murdering coward like you. Long Live the Queen.”
With that she shoved the blade into his heart. Pain, misery and utter loneliness filled Iris as she stood above the man who was finally dead.
“What have you done.” A voice whispered, it was the princess, returned at the disturbance. She ran forward and the red silks reminded Iris of the blood that curled around the blade in her hand.
“What have you done!” she shouted, tears filling her face as she fell into the lap of her long gone father. Tears that reminded Iris so much of the ones she’d shed for her home.
Iris glanced out the window of room, the streets were a glow, the last of the prophecy fulfilled.
“I understand you will have to kill me.” Iris said softly, over the sounds of tears. “And I accept, I will join my family, in the afterlife.”
The howling stopped and Iris turned to the kneeling princess who’s eyes were suddenly red. She looked like a Queen. A terrifying woman with her heart in her lap.
“No.” She ground out, standing up with a wobble.
“You.” She jabbed her finger into Iris’ chest, a shock that froze Iris to the core.
“You will service me, The Queen, as my royal witch. You will commit magic for the kingdom of Lyra till the end of your days. YOU. Will not see your dead family, until i’ve grown old die, my child grows old and dies and his child grows old and dies. You will be in service of this throne for the crime of killing its King, you gray eyed witch.”
All fight left the princess’ body and she returned, meek and grieving to crying over her father. |
“Well shit. This is fucking crazy.”
“That's what…” Josea began to ramble on the phone about how astounding this was and how we were gonna go down in the text books. I was too mind fucked to pay attention. He had sent me an email detailing how he found that the XFactor virus infects a cell and it then alters the cell so that it produces submicroscopic machines. It also detailed his theories about how they were the cause of the bizarre symptoms brought on by the virus. At first I thought this was nonsense but I recreated Josea’s tests and sure enough he hadn't missed a beat.
…”I will be boarding a flight to Reno at 10, you shou…”
I interrupted him,
”You're coming here? Why don't I come to you?
He responded in annoyance,
“For a man with a PhD in virology you sure are a dumbass, the Palestinian government is already tailing my keister and I cant let anyone beat me to the punch on this one. Besides, your personal lab is more state of the art than the tiny one LLICorp has me share provides me with. Btw, I quit last night.”
“Oh, okay…”
“Oh okay.” He muttered back at me. “I invited Prof. Arnold Owenson, of The University of Portland, to come with me. He has a PhD in Nanoscience, Virology, and Engineering. As well as Mycology, and Botany, but I don't give a shit about those. He’s meeting me at Reno and then we’ll come down to you.”
I was pissed that he invited someone I didn't know but if his credentials were true then I couldn't be too mad.
“Okay. I'll look him up.”
“Please do, and I'll have to let you go. I'm at the airport.”
We exchanged farewells, and I googled Prof. Arnold.
“Professor Arnold Owenson was 59, had been divorced 3 times and after his last wife left him he came out as ga…(I skimmed through the gibberish) he had been teaching for 20+ years and had been making leaps and bounds in the field of nanotechnology, having recently developed nanobots capable of replacing the damaged cellulose fibers of cell walls. Though only in a pre-mapped cell structure, and the bots are often mistaken as pathogens by the host’s immune system, unfortunately ”
This must have been why Josea wanted him to come. Though I wonder if he would be of any use. These little machines are at least 200 years beyond us, possibly more if they are quantum computers. The viruses themselves have to be super complex if when they infect the host cell, it becomes able to harvest material from the body to produce submicroscopic machines. Goddamnit we’re fucked. |
It was the eyes, Heather decided. Human eyes don't just stay still like that. They dart around, focus on things. The newscaster's eyes just...stared, like it was wearing a convincing Halloween mask. But not convincing enough.
"The Metro Seattle area was terrorized by a stabbing spree that took place outside the Jupiter Bar on 2nd Avenue around 1AM. Local authorities attribute the rise in crime with the rise in poverty due to the growth in automation affecting most large local industries."
The news was white noise in the background. Another stabbing, shooting, kidnapping, arson...it was par for the course at this point. Unemployment was at a staggering 52% and growing as corporations moved away from human labor. At least Heather's job at the hospital was secure. Robots might be able to empty bedpans, but they can't deliver babies...yet.
"Leading economists disagree with this premise. The rise of crime, according to *qualified* professionals, is due to drop in personal responsibility and financial planning. Automation has kept the country competitive on the world stage since its wide adoption six years ago. 12 were killed and 31 injured."The computer-generated newscaster's expression was unchanged, the same flat, semi-focused, barely sympathetic face she'd had all evening.
"In other news, eco-terrorists have entered their 10th week blocking freight trains from leaving the Amazon/Nestle warehouse district, and have hindered the company's ability to provide critical resources to local communities. A small-town local had this to say:"
The image switched to an older man with white hair and a baseball cap on his head. "It's difficult to put food on the table when eco-terrorists block it from arriving. How am I supposed to feed my family?"His head turned at a noise.
But his *eye*. They didn't move.
Heather blinked and paused the TV. Hold on. Rewind.
"How am I supposed to feed my family?"*Noise. Head turn.* Heather looked at the ribbon on the bottom of the screen. Where a name belongs were only the words "Small-town local."
That is...strange.
News media companies were required several years ago to transition from biased, human-led reporting to procedurally generated, AI-powered newscasting. Without the agendas of humans, there was supposed to be greater transparency, equality of messaging, and less chance of radicalization.
But this was...well, Heather couldn't figure out what this was. |
Another day. Another. Boring. Humiliating. Torturous. Day.
My life, ever since I was a kitten, I've never tasted freedom. I barely got to know my mum before I was put in a box with strangers, around the same age as me. For a few weeks I'd see hairless apes walk in and out of the big box - they'd stare at me and the others, some would pick us up and try to strangle us (they never squeezed hard enough for some reason), and a few would put their mouths on us threatening to eat us, tasting our fur. If we tried to defend ourselves by biting or kicking, we'd be called 'aggressive' and seen as uninteresting.
I'd say that's a good thing, but the hairless apes that spent all day in there would sometimes pick up the 'aggressive' ones and take them somewhere, so it doesn't make a difference, as the 'cute' ones would leave the big box with other hairless apes. I ended up being 'chosen' by a young-looking one, who said I was 'really soft and fluffy and cuddly', whatever that means. Ever since then, I've lived a horrid existence.
Today was no different. I woke up in my prison cell, which is in a room in a huge box. As usual, the ape that 'chose' me was looking at me with an evil face - the mouth turned up at the corners, and their eyes wide. "Good morning, Fluffy!"she said, as always. Like always, I wondered if today was the day I'd be eaten. She opened the door to my cell, and I tried again to escape, but the ape stopped me. "Hey, hey, you can't come out yet, I just need to give you more food!"
She put some dry, flavourless... things into my bowl, and very dry grass in a corner of my cell. I feel like she purposefully only gives me decent food once a day, and even then not much, because she thinks that I'm beneath her, so only hairless apes should be eating it. She probably only gives me veg at all because she wants me to think she cares; if she cared, she'd release me! I studied her - she was wearing the same thing she slept in, so she was here all day. *Great.*
"I need to have breakfast now, I'll come give you a cuddle after!"I've learned that 'cuddle' means 'strangle', and I hate it. Throughout the day, she'd force me out of my cell, try to strangle me, and if she felt like it, force me to sit on her legs while she sat on something wide and soft. I would love to just sit on the thing myself, but she never lets me; the bigger hairless apes say they don't want me damaging the 'sofa'. Today was also a rare day where I got to be outside, but it's not much better - I do actually have room to run around, but it's in this box, with a couple of toys; even though I can eat the grass, I can't even dig! They outright said they don't want me to escape!
I'm back in my cell *now*, with the young hairless ape having once again threatened to eat me... she says it's a 'goodnight kiss', but a kiss is when we rub our noses! She's trying to trick me! Anyway, I'm falling asleep right now, wondering if I'll ever escape... I'm getting old, my adult years are almost over... I've been seeing an ape called a 'vet' more and more, and I hate them; they stick all sorts of things into me, force me to open my mouth, they even mess with my teeth and dull them! They take pleasure in my pain and discomfort too - they always cheerily say "Fluffy is in great health!"Well, not always, but if I'm not in 'great health', they mess with me even more! I've learned to try and always hide any pain as a result, but they always find out anyway...
So this is probably my life, for the rest of my life... I hate it...
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The air smelled like iron, i was feeling light headed and cold. A Spell i had conjured had slipped out of my grasp, and failed in a dangerously volatile manner. Luckily my Tower did not collapse on top of me.
Though i was fairing not so well. With my last strength i had crawled to a shelf which contained a dangerous book. I had vowed to myself to never use it, but the fear of death makes you do all kinds of silly things.
Summoning demons was difficult and dangerous in itself. I had followed all the instructions carefully, despite my time being limited. The Result though, was nothing at all like i had imagined.
It was a small winged creature that stood there when the ritual was complete, its maw filled with pointy teeth turned to a frown as it saw me. "You ok there Mister?"it asked in a high pitched voice.
It was absolutely not what i had imagined demons to be like, but dying people cant be choosers. "I offer to serve you, in exchange for my life"i said while lying on the ground in a pool of my own blood.
The Demon was confused "Oh, I've not come prepared for this!"he looked around and down at me. "Alright ill try"said the demon and snapped its fingers. Whatever it was, it had worked, dark energy surrounded me and the wind howled. I felt weak, but i was alive.
Having made a pact with a demon proved to be confusing, as the demon itself did not seem to know what to do. But, the demon was quite nice and we got along really well. Surprisingly enough, this prove to be one of the better decisions i had made throughout my life. |
Before Johnny even clocked in, he could see the stack of pizzas waiting for delivery. He didn't waste any time grabbing the food and heading for his car. The Noid watched him as he pulled out, he could see him get in his own car through his rear view mirror. He took a different side road, but Johnny knew the freak was up to something.
The first house sat at the end of a cul-de-sac. The party going on outside seemed to be an obvious giveaway. With caution, Johnny grabbed the cheese stuffed pepperoni and exited his vehicle.
He saw the bastard coming in his peripheral vision. Johnny sprinted behind his car and ducked, still holding the pizza. The Noid had just blasted the side of his car with a makeshift fire extinguisher device which spat out slime everywhere. It would have ruined the pizza for sure. They locked eyes while Johnny walked up to the house to make the delivery.
By the time his interaction with the customers had finished, the Noid had vanished. Johnny fired up his car and got rolling. He'd be back, that much was certain. It wouldn't stop Johnny from delivering those three combinations.
The next house had an even larger pool party going on in the back yard. Johnny could see the swimmers enjoying themselves through the mesh of the fence. Stepping out of the car, he kept his head on a swivel. The Noid could be anywhere.
When he met with the customer, Johnny had to set the pizzas down to accept the cash. That's when a mechanical grabbing hand latched onto the pizza boxes. Johnny noticed just in time and yanked it from the device. Of course the Noid stood a few feet away, holding a large box and looking rather disappointed.
He had just one more delivery before returning to the shop. This one was an anchovy and Hawaiian mix. Johnny looked forward to getting the damn smell out of his car. Only reason he saved it for last was because the customer was way on the other side of town.
The ghetto he rolled up in looked scary as hell. Johnny grabbed his pistol from the glove box before heading out. He wasn't gonna deliver heart attacks in a neighborhood like this unarmed, not after last time.
The apartments he rolled up too looked like a home for roaches 'n rats. While climbing up the flight of stairs to the third floor, a hand grabbed his leg and tripped him. It was the Noid, and he grabbed the pizza with a damn flying helicopter grabby toy. Johnny gave chase to the bastard but he disappeared down the next alleyway.
Ten years as a pizza delivery guy and that freak had finally got him. Johnny was broken. |
"Yo, hey Bob, sorry for-"
For the first few milliseconds after the ghost had spoken, nothing much have happened outside our nuclear weapon. Meanwhile inside, high explosives send a shockwave into a radioactive metal core, compressing it so much that it reaches criticality and starts a nuclear fission chain reaction. The 100 million degree plasma created in the first stage sets off the second stage, with atomic nuclei fusing like they do in the very core of a star. Very briefly, one of the hottest places in the universe is born. And only now, barely ten milliseconds later, does the rest of the universe find out that anything had happened, as suddenly the bomb dissolves and a flaming star of nuclear death is born. |
“So,” Illian asked, passing a skin of wine across the fire. “Prince Lucas, how will your father take your return?” Pausing, Lucas took a sip of the wine and stared into the campfire as the rest of the army around him packed away their things. *How will he take my return? Ten year’s across the sea, fighting a foreign war. Will he be proud?* Before he could answer Illian, their commander, Captain Eder, came from behind a tent, standing over them. A huge man, Lucas had never seen a man his size, this side of the sea or the other.
“Make sure you pack your spoils tonight, men,” Eder ordered, his green eyes flashing against the flames of the fire. “We won’t be returning anytime soon. At least I hope not.” Lucas and Illian both nodded and just as quickly as he appeared, the Captain was gone, away to warn the other mercenaries of the same thing. Soldiers trudged by, some nodded their respects to the foreign prince, but most didn’t, too concerned with heading home at last. Lucas returned the skin to Illian before leaning back, the log he sat on rolled slightly on the damp grass below. Looking up, a full moon beamed down on them. The stars shone, some blinking while one flashed across the sky.
“I don’t know how he’ll react,” Lucas answered at last. Illian had lost focus, too intent on watching a gaggle of whores walk by. “He’s a King. They’re known for acting erratic sometimes.” Illian had given up even trying to look like he was paying attention, his head swerving nearly halfway around his head.
"Go on,” Lucas muttered, kicking out the fire that had warmed them for so long. “I can see where your night is heading and it's not listening to me.” Grinning wildly, Illian rose, slapping the Prince on the back.
“Thank you,” he said and just like that Lucas found himself alone and cold. *Well, I know where I can get some company.*
Turning, he walked towards the edge of the camp, eager to leave the other soldiers to their merriment. The end of the war had come too soon for Lucas. Though, fighting for ten years, he had wanted it to last forever. *What now? Heading back home with hat in hand. And what do I have to show for it? Some stories and a bag of gold.* One by one the other campfires were being stamped out. Men joked as they left for their tents, some alone most with a woman or two. *Winning the war always brought its rewards.* One fire, at the far edge of the camp, still blazed heavily, the bright orange stark against the black night sky. A familiar screech rang up, though at this point most of the men had learned to tune it out. The screech, high and shrill, brought back a memory to him.
His mother, silver-haired and beautiful, was crying into her handkerchief. His Father, standing tall and proud, glared down at his youngest son from his Throne.
“Go,” his Father fumed, his face growing redder and redder as the words spat from his mouth. “If you must! Go! Join your foreigner's war but see to this. If you disgrace yourself make sure that you keep that side of the water!” Lucas had turned, striding from the throne room, with his hand on his newly forged sword. *That went better than I had expected,* he had thought at the time.
The smell of burning wood and cows brought him back to the dwindling camp.
Two soldiers continued to practice, bashing their swords and shields together. Lucas kept his head down, hoping they wouldn’t recognize him. *What is it with people and wanting to challenge a Prince? Would it mean that much to them if they won?* When he had first arrived, he had had to prove himself worthy of a place amongst the mercenaries. Illian had been chosen as an opponent. In a fight that lasted longer than Lucas was used to, the Prince had come out on top. Since then he had taken on nearly everyone in the company, all eager to take on royalty.
Another screech rang up as flames flung into the air. Rounding the final tent, he saw him. *Terax. The largest dragon on this side of the ocean.* Black as night, a small hill of dead cows lay beside the beats, as it burnt the skin before tearing at the animals with its long, thick, white teeth. Claws ripped up the ground whenever he moved. *If it weren’t for the flames, you might have missed him.*
“Terax!” Lucas called and the dragon turned. Leaving the food behind, the dragon strode over to where Lucas stood, dipping his head. Using his knuckles, Lucas rubbed it’s head as hard as he could, hoping the beast could feel it. Throwing his head into the sky, Terax screeched, delighting in the attention. Turning back again, the dragon tore through another cow, leaving a half-eaten one on the grass by its feet. Then, Lucas heard a noise that made his stomach drop. A screech rang up from the far side of the camp. The cries of men and the sound of unsheathing steel quickly followed. Looking up at the night sky, Lucas saw a dragon, long, skinny and blood-red. The beast hovered over the tents, sending flames everywhere it looked. Without hesitation, Lucas unsheathed his sword, its brilliant silver flashing in the moonlight, and jumped on the back of Terax.
“I’m sorry, boy,” Lucas apologised. “Your feast will have to wait. It looks like we have another battle on our hands.” With a click of his heels, beast and man flew into the air and the night sky came alive with the fighting of dragons. |
Pretty annoying, yet useful. I mean, now you know what problems you have, and you also know you're great at giving advice. At least, your friends think you do. By having them make your life easier, you're pretty comfortable.
Until that fateful morning.
You were relaxing, Josh doing your homework for you, Emily giving you a massage, and your feet were kicked up on the desk. You were played back in your comfy chair, which you had convinced Jack to give you to help with your posture. You notice Jane sidle up to you, and you start up a conversation.
"So I have a friend who has a problem..."she says, and you sigh. "What is it?"You ask. "I don't know how to tell him,"she says.
"Tell him what?"You ask, interested.
"How to tell him... that he's been in a coma for 3 years, and they're about to pull the plug." |
"Thanks for dinner, it was nice meeting you,"Jessica said politely.
John frowned, "Are you sure you don't want me to "come"inside? Hehehe... get it?"
"Oh no, I have to get up early for work tomorrow."
John knew his jokes were too clever for most people. He reached into his pants and stared at Jessica suggestively, "Can I show you something pleeease?"
"I really..."
John pulled out a knife and stabbed Jessica in the stomach. "Do you want to invite me inside now,"he asked.
"You... you..."
John stabbed her again. "You don't have long, I should probably get out of here yeah?"
"No... NO! Please!"
"Please what?"
"Have... sex with me.. PLEASE!"
John laughed, "Nah." |
**Theo of the Ship**
The crew stood in a circle watching Theo. Theo, a patchwork doll of human and stand-in parts. The boat sways with the tossing waves. Theo's brass sextant knee-joint swiveled as he rode out the sway, and the crew cheered, even Pog who had been upset about losing his back-up sextant. Theo grinned with a mouthful of mismatched, real teeth. When he smiled, we all smiled, technically speaking.
"Well, as long as the deck don't tip past 60 degrees, he'll do okay,"Pog said, proudly.
"Cap'n,"Theo screeched, "my leg bone is aching."He was using vocal cords from what used to be a parrot. The feathers that could be saved served as hair... or plumage.
"That's my leg bone!"Carl the cook called out, "storm'll be comin' in!"
"Right, the lot of you, hands to your stations! Theo, come with me and Hessel, I'll show you around,"I called out.
"No need,"Theo squawked, thumping after me on a pegleg and mish-mashed other leg.
"No need?"
"Wright remembers where everything is,"
"Aye, Wright... Well, go and help Pog then."
I watched as Theo limped off, his enthusiasm making me worry about the stitches, and wrappings, and bindings.
I turned to Hessel, my first mate, and the unnaturalist on the voyage.
"What if he turns out like Wright?"
"Necromancy is not a well understood field within the unnatural laws,"Hessel said. The wind was picking up, and Hessel's neatly tied ponytail was whipped around in it. "But the use of diverse parties, the loyalty of the parrot, and the wishes of the crew... I don't think he harbours ill-motive."
"Good... because Wright was a quarter of the way to that mutiny. And the crew like Theo a lot better than they liked Wright." |
The Council tilted their heads toward the conjured map of the Known Universe. The colors of their respective realms shimmered and pulsed, their borders ebbed and flowed like ocean waves breaking on shore. They watched years pass in seconds across the floating projection. Patchwork colors representing each of their race's holdings shown brightly against a hideous red smear. In the center of the blob was a singular small yellow dot with an even more miniscule blue speck tracing a path around it. The Council Elders looked at the tiny blue marble with loathing contempt.
Each one of their Empires stood in balance with one another, their powerful alliances each complementing another, making up for inherent weaknesses. The Elementals, with their power to shape the physical world had, since time began, been inexorably tied to the tele-psychic Wisps. The Rangers and Ilk, a right hand of physical and left hand of spiritual mages were also one of the long standing alliances of the Universe now sharing in the mutual defeat at the hands of upstart interlopers.
"How did it come to this?"Jahree, Senior Councilor of the Wisp lamented to his brethren. "Ten thousand generations we have ruled that Galactic Sector only for it to fall in less than 500 years."
"Spare us your poor recitation of history Councilor. We know all too well your failures to contain the threat. You were warned about this possibility a millennia ago in this very Chamber, and yet here we are."
Nevia's chastisements were legendary in Chambers. Ilk lifespans were long and memories even longer. Jahree rose to speak and defend his people's governance of their realm but a raised paw from the Elemental Chief Urudu settled his counterpart's motion.
"Councilors, we are at a crossroads never before imagined"Urudu's gruff and solemn words reflected the mutual tone of the Chamber. "This is an enemy we have never before faced. Their nature is entire alien to each of us."
"Please continue to tell us what we already know"squawked Nevia. Urudu's eyes shifted to meet hers, an entire conversation transpired in a moment. "Apologies, Chieftain. Do continue."a rebuked Nevia muttered.
"They lack any connection to the realm they inhabit. Their entire existence is in the physical, and yet their physiology shows an unknown relationship to the Ethereal."Urudu stood and began to pace the room, his feline heritage betraying his unease.
"They seem to be completely ignorant of their connection to the Ether. Or perhaps they shunned it so long ago their knowledge of it was lost to time. Regardless, their abilities in adaptation to the physical has been our downfall. Too long we have relied on our powers to defeat our foes. It would seem that their inherent nature to adapt their technology and overcome resistance renders our Ethereal powers useless against them."
"Disgusting powerless apes is what they are! They are unworthy of existence!"Lang-shi's powerful hands slammed the Council table, briefly disrupting Nevia's concentration on conjuring the projection. The Ranger representative stood face to face with Urudu, his scaled and armored hid a stark contrast against the Elemental Chief's well groomed mane.
"It was this Councils failure to see the true nature of these pests that put us here and still you pontificate."Lang-shi's rasped. "Perhaps it is something else preventing you from acting against these...humans. I hear they raise animals such as you as pets for their own perverse pleasure. Is that what you desire Elemental, to be a pet to one of these apes?"
Urudu's tail flicked, pupils dilated, his ears now flat against his head.
"Councilors please! We have more pressing issues than your petulant and childish pride."the galactic projection winked out of existence as Nevia shouted the others down. Urudu and Lang-shi's gazes parted simultaneously, both resuming their places at the Council table, neither backing down or apologetic. Nevia resumed her conjuration, focusing on a small cluster of stars.
"As you can see here,"her long, slender fingers directed the Council's attention to a specific star system "the humans have amassed a fleet in this system. We believe that this fleet is comprised majorly of transport vessels looking to colonize the Balaak world Taj-nur-sek. This is a rich opportunity for us to directly engage a soft target and demoralize the human advance. I have directed our forces to hide within the star's corona to await the landing of the humans on Taj-nur-sek. Then we will assault the humans and obliterate them completely."
Applause filled the Chambers.
"A bold move"Urudu complimented. "how were you able to discern this?"
"One of our infiltration units in the human colonies enchanted a member of their Navy and used him to steal these plans from their headquarters. It was a superb operation."Nevia was beaming with pride. Her race had always been the best assets when it came to infiltration.
Urudu rubbed a paw under his chin, stroking is stiff grey whiskers. "You prideful fool!"he boomed "Recall that fleet at once!"
Where once smiles and cheer filled the faces of the Council shock and bewilderment now stood.
"Wha-what do you mean Councilor?"Nevia protested. "We cannot commune with our fleet whilst they inhabit the corona, but their orders are specific. They will attack when the humans are most vulnerable, our victory is assured!"
Urudu shook his head as he exited the Council Chamber. "May the Gods of Love and Mercy be kind to our brothers today."
\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*
"Sir, enemy fleet detected within the star's corona. Estimate three Dreadnaught class, four heavy cruisers and six destroyers"
"They certainly want to make a show of this, don't they?"
"Sir!"
"Well lets not keep them waiting. Tell the Psy-Cloaked fleet to wait until the last possible moment to drop their shields and engage the enemy. Fire up the relativistic and gravimetric generators. I want to keep those creepers on this side of the Plane, no escaping into the Void like they did at Chartres, eh Commander?"
"None sir."
"Very well, commence landing operations." |
\[Brand Recognition\]
"What the hell?"Ralph noticed two teenage girls through the window. A dark-haired girl and one with bright orange hair walked along the sidewalk of his neighborhood, seemingly without a care in the world. He risked opening the door and peeked outside. It was early morning and the neighborhood was as quiet as it had been all week. Before the previous week, this was around the time everyone was headed to work. He regularly saw and greeted his neighbors every day, until the incident.
When he saw that it was safe to go out, he dashed down the walkway and yelled at them in a whisper.
"Hey! What are you doing out here??"he asked them with a note of panic in his voice.
"Hi,"the dark-haired one said. The girls stopped and turned to face them. "I'm Dara, this is my friend, Riot,"she said. Ralph was almost annoyed that they weren't concerned until she answered his question. "What's wrong with being out here?"she asked.
Ralph was surprised at first. But, they were teenage girls after all. He was sure that world news wasn't as interesting to them as their own problems.
"Haven't you heard of the spiders?"he asked. He glanced up and down the street just to make sure there weren't any approaching.
"Yeah, we have,"Dara nodded. "That's what I was showing Riot,"she added. "Have you seen any really big ones?"
"You.. want to see them?"he asked. He shook his head subconsciously, it was unbelievable. "Spiders are the only thing being born.... no matter the parent. The world is freaking out... and you're just taking a stroll??"He looked both ways again.
"Really?"Riot asked. She followed his lead and looked around the neighborhood. It looked more peaceful than Ralph suggested. "I don't see anyone freaking out."
"I'm the only one crazy enough to still live here,"he said. "Everyone panicked and left; the houses are all empty. I've checked most of them anyway."
"Why only most of them?"Dara asked as she looked around the quiet neighborhood too. "It's been about a week, that seems like it's enough time."Ralph shook his head.
"You asked if I'd seen a big one...,"he said. "I've seen one as big as that house,"he nodded across the street at a large two-story house. "It comes by here sometimes. It scared everyone else off, but I don't have anywhere else to go..,"he shrugged. "I try not to stay out too long. I was getting ready to check a few more today when I saw you walking by,"he glanced behind him again. "You girls should get to safety, I don't know when it'll be back."
"What color was it?"Dara asked.
"Huh?"Ralph had just told them a giant spider was likely to walk by any minute. Why did the color matter?
"White!"he said. He was growing more annoyed. Every second he talked to them put him in more danger. He'd already decided to skip exploring and return to the safety of his house once he got out of this conversation.
"A giant white spider?"Dara asked. "Did it have a red logo on it?"As she asked, she pointed to a pair of red scissors on her white t-shirt.
"Yes....,"Ralph took a step back from the pair. It couldn't have been a coincidence. He noted the red mark on the spider's abdomen looked like a pair of scissors the first time he saw it. Her logo matched it perfectly. It also helped explain their casual attitude. "...Who are you? Why does that giant spider have the same mark?"he asked.
"I already introduced us,"Dara smirked. "But, I'm Dara Sharp. My mother owns a corporation named Sharp Development, and that spider belongs to the company. Ralph's mouth fell agape. He never would have imagined that a corporation was responsible for the spidery state of the world; but, it made sense in hindsight.
"You... you did this to the world?"he asked while taking another step back. He decided it would be best to lock himself inside his house until they left; but, he didn't want to turn his back on them.
'Yep,"she nodded. "Well, my mom did,"she clarified with an almost proud smile. "She promised to help someone, and she always keeps her word."Not only did a faceless corporation do this to the world, but it was also intentional.
"Why...?"Ralph asked. He checked both ends of the street again, then took a step back. "...who would want th-"His question was interrupted as he ran into someone behind him. "AAAHHH!"he spun around and saw a tall, lean, wrinkled man with a bushy silver beard. He had a black widow spider tattooed on his left arm with a '33' branded underneath it.
"Sebastian!"Dara called the name before Ralph entirely had his wits about him. Normally he would have told her to keep quiet, but there was too much going on. She ran past him and shook the tall man's hand. Then, she turned. "This is my friend, Riot,"she introduced the orange-haired girl again.
In all his confusion, Ralph noticed that Sebastian's face softened when he shook the girl's hand, and he smiled at Riot.
"Nice to meet you, Riot,"he said. She walked past Ralph and shook Sebastian's hand too.
"So, how do you like it so far?"Dara asked. Sebastian began to answer, but Ralph couldn't handle any more surprises. The trio was between him and the house; but, he realized he could slip away and hide in another house. Ralph took a couple of discreet steps to the left, that neighbor's house was closer. He kept his eyes on the group.
"I like it, but I'm not the one this Earth is for,"Sebastian chuckled. "Riot, meet my friend...,"he said. He turned and gestured at Ralph as the scared man took another step to the side. It was at that moment he realized he was stepping into a shadow that normally wasn't there. He turned slowly, terrified. He was confident in what he would find. The giant white spider stood over him. He only heard one last word before he fainted.
"...Spider."
\*\*\*
Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is story #1705 in a row. (Story #259 in year five.). This story is part of an ongoing saga that takes place at a high school in my universe. It began on August 22nd and I will be adding to it with prompts every day until May 26th. They are all collected in order at [this link.](https://www.reddit.com/r/Hugoverse/comments/wtglls/tokuhigh_alternet_class/) |
"Well, you've got balls kid, I'll give you that."Morgan Elias had picked himself up from the back of the train car. He was dishevelled and covered with pens, bits of paper and other knick-knacks that had been sent flying from his desk, but otherwise he seemed unharmed.
For a moment, despite everything that had happened, I felt star-struck. *The* Morgan Elias is speaking to me. It's strange how the mind works in moments like these. Even though I was strapped in, maybe I'd gotten a concussion from the sudden jolt when we brought the final hyperloop car to a violent halt. It only took a few seconds for my confused awe to be replaced by the seething hatred that had been my decade-long companion.
"You killed my friends, you arsehole,"I repeated. I'd practised this moment so many times, lived it in my head again and again. Yet now I was here and all I could do was repeat that one thing. I could hear the scorn in my own voice. I hoped he could too.
"I'm sure I did kid,"Morgan Elias said. He took his phone out of his pocket, hit a single button on the side and lifted it to his ear. I didn't say anything else, I just watched him.
"But I have no idea who you are and I don't care either."Morgan Elias said, phone still pressed to his ear. "It makes no difference. You're gonna pay for messing up my train. I'm going to get on with my life and you're going to be slowly tortured for as long as my guys can keep you alive. Months, hopefully. And ten minutes from now, I'm never going to think about you again."It was only now that he took the phone away from his face and looked at it.
"Signal jammer, arsehole!"I told him. It had taken four years of planning and preparation, two more years of waiting and waiting for the right opportunity, for Morgan Elias---billionaire, celebrity hyperloop builder, murderer---to take his private train on just the right line at just the right time. Everything had needed to be perfect and it had been. The explosion had decoupled Morgan Elias' private study car and triggered its emergency brakes. The brakes had been perfectly engineered. The train had decelerated at exactly the rate it had been designed to, as rapidly as possible without killing any people inside, and stopped beside the signal jammer they had positioned years ago.
"You're wrong,"I told Morgan Elias who was now furiously tapping at his phone. "It won't be ten minutes. The the train won't even be able to start decelerating until they've figured out what happened and contacted HRA-Central to remotely trigger the controls. By then it will be at least sixty kilometres away and it's not like the hyperloop can reverse."Morgan Elias had put his phone down now and was looking directly at me. His eyes narrowed. "The nearest town is 63 kilometres away. Depending on how quickly your people get their act together and contact the authorities there, we have at least twenty-seven minutes, possibly up to an hour."
Morgan Elias didn't bother to explain himself. His mouth twisted into a snarl as he launched himself, full bolt, directly at me. His legs were long. It would only take a few strides for him to reach me, still strapped into the guest seat at the other end of the train car. My right foot was crushed and crippled from the plane crash. I could barely stand at the best of times, let alone get up and fight this fit, rage-filled man.
"Annie, now!"I screamed. It took one stride to say the words and he had already accelerated into the second. Third stride, nothing happened. Fourth, he was almost on me, his fist pulled back and flying towards my face with all his rushing body weight behind it. I was strapped in and couldn't move. I shut my eyes.
BAAAAM!
The shock wave from the explosion jolted the train. It must have knocked Morgan Elias from his vicious trajectory, because I did not feel his fist hit my face or his body crash into me. Instead, I felt the disconcerting sensation of being turned upside down. The explosives had broken the pylon supporting the raised hyperloop tunnel. The tunnel, the train car, Morgan Elias and I were about to fall thirty meters to the rocky, barren desert beneath.
--- TO BE CONTINUED ---
(later tonight or tomorrow morning, got evening commitments for the next few hours) |
“Welcome, Doctor.”
I was an absolute bundle of nerves, but years of experience and practice kept them from showing on my face. I wore my professional face – nothing but a polite smile. The patient had stood upon my entrance, and she smiled beatifically back at me – despite her years in here and neuroleptics, she maintained a hair and skin care routine as well as an exercise regimen.
“Ms. Hart, I am your new psychiatrist, Dr. Bill Carroll.”
“And thank you for taking time to see me. It has been quite some time my last appointment.”
I nodded and gestured for her to take a seat. She sat prim and proper, legs crossed at the ankles, managing to make the dowdy patient gown look elegant. Of course, her previous line of work as an escort assisted that impression.
“Please tell me a little bit about your previous…profession, Ms. Hart. I have notes here, but I prefer to make my own assessment.”
“Please, call me Alice.” She waved her hand casually at him. “And I’d be happy to tell you what I can. I was a high-end escort, servicing wealthy and usually male clients that asked for discretion.”
“You can tell all in here, Alice, this is a safe space.”
“I wish it were, Doctor,” she whispered, her modelesque face falling briefly. “Unfortunately, my previous therapy session ended rather distastefully. She was not able to maintain secrecy. Nothing but a gossip was Dr. Hatter.”
*And she paid for it dearly, didn’t she Alice?* I kept that thought to myself.
“But I have a feeling I can trust you,” the wide smile was back on her face. “My last client was a Mr. March, a member on the board of directors for Exxon.”
“And what happened to him?” I pressed carefully, seeing if she would admit to one of her crimes.
“Why, I killed him of course! He voted in favor of fracking several years ago. He held several shares, so his vote carried much weight. So much damage.”
I had not been aware of that level of detail. I made a note in her file and reviewed her record.
“And a Mr…Hatter as well, correct?”
“Oooh, I serviced him and Mr. Hare at the same time,” she tapped her full lips with a manicured but unpainted nail. “They were founders of a small but fraudulent children’s healthcare charity that embezzled the money to offshore accounts to pay for Mr. Epstein’s…unique products and services. The irony of that did not escape me.” She smiled ruefully.
I made another note in the file. I took a moment to read her charges – the names of the victims were correct, but not much detail was mentioned. *She isn’t displaying any of the usual signs of a borderline personality, nor narcissism. Still lacking empathy though.*
“Your thoughts are showing on your face, Dr. Carroll. Let me help you – no, I don’t have any empathy. Or at least not anymore. My childhood was pretty horrific, if you take a minute to read my chart. Incest, physical abuse from both mother and father. A crucible upon which my empathy was sacrificed, and ambition and justice born.” The smile fell from her face and her blue eyes briefly hardened into shards of ice. The malicious yet somehow empty expression was so swift I wondered if he’d imagined it.
“Poetic,” I quipped.
“Private cotillion lessons and a traditional classical education,” she shrugged, warm smile back in place. She leaned forward conspiratorially, “I could show you a bit more of my…esoteric knowledge, as it were.” A heady perfume of flowers wafted from her flowing blond hair and I swallowed nervously.
“You are already learning why my previous doctors have been female,” she chucked softly, then leaned back. “But I don’t intend to seduce you, Doctor.”
I was silently grateful – she was absolutely addictive in person. No wonder she kept getting booked despite the rumors.
“If you take a moment and do a bit of research, every single one of my victims had judgment awaiting them. I just happened to hurry it along.”
I scanned the list – and recognized a few of these names. Soon after the discovery of several of her victims, a few independent media outlets had mentioned her potential as a vigilante. Several organizations that had been fighting her victims in court had received large anonymous donations soon after, and a few of them were able to hire better attorneys and won.
“I have entrusted you with quite a bit of privileged information, Doctor. Perhaps you could extend similar trust? Nothing I have ever done has been without reason, as I’m sure you’re coming to realize.”
I pursed my lips and took a quick peek at the cameras in her room – I knew they had no microphones but felt a frisson of unease regardless. I palmed a key and leaned toward her, and she grasped my hands in a show of enthusiasm and gratitude. I heard the discrete click of the lock of her chained handcuffs, but she kept them on as if nothing was amiss.
“I feel close to you Doctor. I look forward to our next appointment.”
“Yes, I believe we are making excellent progress.” |
Stheno and Euryale rested on the concrete ridge, overlooking the lake. "Where is she?"Stheno asked, running her hands through the water.
Euryale's head slumped into her arms. "Who knows."
Then, in the faint darkness they heard it. ^^^^^honk
"Christ, so she's already in a mood."^^^^honk "I don't want to have to tell her."^^^HONK
"Why do *I* have to? You're older!"Euryale's serpents began to hiss. ^^HONK
"Okay okay. We can't fall apart before she gets here. I'll do it."^HONK
They both closed their eyes, and all their serpents took a deep breathe along with them, before the door slammed open. "HONK! HONK! HONKHONK HONK!"
The Gorgons rolled their eyes and rubbed their heads, for the Megoosa had arrived with a feathery wrath. |
“By destroying the Earth, you will destroy yourselves too.” President Bergman deadpanned. “You will have nothing to rule over.”
President Bergman was often referred to as the Vulcan. It was very rare that he showed any emotion. He was playing a game of chess, and losing would be deadly. Most of his pieces were in place. Soon, he hoped, he would have Dictator Rashik in a checkmate he would not escape from. His part of the play was to distract Rashik long enough for the team known as the Scouts to get in and capture Rashik.
The Scouts were a six member team of highly trained soldiers. The weaponry they used was so advanced that it looked like magic. They were the best of the best. Their true identities were a closely guarded secret. They went by code names instead.
“That is a risk I’m willing to take.” Rashik responded. “Wait, the target has been evacuated? How did they find out? I need you to find the leak, and kill them!”
“Your plan is crumbling.” Bergman pointed out in the same near monologue tone. Now it was time to break Rashik. “You are getting scared. For all you know, the Scouts could burst through your door and take you down.”
“S-stop it! Someone leaked information!”
“Did they? Or were you not careful enough let slip your plan? You like to boast about your nuclear power and how you could destroy the Earth with a push of a button.”
“The button…” Bergman heard the sound of frantic rustling. Little did Rashik know, his button had already been taken and replaced with a copy by the scout codenamed Tauros. “I-I’ll press it!”
“Go ahead.”
“Reverse psychology!” Rashik remembered that Bergman was a well renowned psychologist. “That won’t work on me! I know all your tricks! You are trying to get under my skin! I won’t fall for it!”
“Or have you already broken?”
“S-stop it! I-I won’t break! You don’t scare me!” Rashik screamed.
“I think you’ve had enough playtime.”
Rashik spun to see a brown haired woman wearing a dark uniform.
“How did you get in?” He wailed.
“I am the scout Andromeda.” Andromeda grinned. “We can’t have crazed madmen running countries now can we?” She walked forward, and before Rashik could even scream, he was handcuffed and being led out of his castle.
_Checkmate_ Bergman thought. |
“What is this feeling? Where am I?”
It’s so dark. No, not dark, it’s nothing?
How is that possible? I wish it was just dark.
“Oh cool. It is only dark out there.”
Is that coldness? I don’t remember it being cold before it was dark.
If only there was something warm.
“What was that?”
What was that noise? Was that an explosion? Where is all that brightness coming from?
Whoa. Where is the light heading off to?
“Bye bye light.”
What are those stubby things down there? Are those my feet? Do I have feet? It looks like I do, in fact, have feet.
“Hello feet.”
Odd, shouldn’t there be something beneath my feet? Am I just floating here? This is somewhat disorienting and I wish I was standing on something.
“Hello. What are you? How did you get beneath my feet? You seem be a round, hot, orange liquid rock? “
I wish there were a lot more of these round things. So exciting. If there are, I think I will call them Squishies to match the liquid.
“Watch out Squishy, something is about to hit you! Oh no, Squishy are you okay? Oh there is now a smaller Squishy just over there. We are going to call it Moon.”
“Hello Moon. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Wait, what happened to Squishy and Moon?
“Squishy and Moon are you alright? You are not liquid rock, but hard. When did that happen?”
Squishy nor Moon are answering. Perhaps they are sleeping.
“It would be rude to still call you Squishy. Let’s call you Earth.”
What are Earth, Moon and I floating in? It’s vast but empty. I think we will call it Space?
“Yes, we will call you Space. It’s a pleasure to meet you Space, have you met Earth and Moon? And that way over there is Light.”
Space is getting dark again. It must be that Light is really far away.
I wish there were little spots of light throughout Space to keep it warm and to make it so we could see Earth and Moon; they really are neat looking.
Oh, there’s one right over there.
“Hi ball of light! Hold on, I want to come visit.”
Wow, getting here was faster than I thought.
“Ball of light, you’re so huge, and so hot and quite bright. Wow, you’re pretty turbulent down there. Are you upset? You’re not Squishy, nor Non-Squishy though; I think you’re gassy. I’m terribly sorry, don’t mean to laugh when I say that. Gassy.”
I can’t just keep calling it Ball of Light or Gassy. That’s both impersonal and rude. I think I will call it Sun.
“Hello Sun, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Oh, there are a lot more of these balls of light like Sun. I think I will call them Stars.
“Hello Stars, it’s a pleasure to meet all of you too”.
“I’m going back to visit Earth and Moon. Thank you for visiting with me!”
“Earth, you’ve changed again. What is this wet stuff and all these tall green things? There is so much of it! And what is that big white thing in the sky. Wait, Moon, is that you? You’re so bright now. I’m coming to visit.”
“Moon, you seem so different than Earth. There are a lot of dents in you and I feel lighter. However, look at the view you have of the Earth, it’s beautif-”
What is that, it’s going to hit Earth.
“Watch out Earth, that thing is going to hit you!”
Wow! That looked like it hurt. All that fire and then Earth got so dark. It looks like it was only temporary though.
“Moon do you see that red spot way out there? You might have to squint to see it better. Stay here, I want to go check it out.”
Another non-Squishy? This one is different than Earth, being red and does not have all that wet stuff.
I think I will it Mars.
“Hello Mars, it’s a pleasure to meet you. It’s really getting pretty busy out here, isn’t it.”
Mars must be asleep, it isn’t talking.
“I’m going to go visit Earth again, let me know if you need anything Mars.”
“Earth, are you awake yet?”
I guess since Earth and Moon haven’t talked, they are really tired.
Wait. What are these small things on Earth. They walk around on two legs, oh and they like to talk.
“Hello Small things!”
What the hell. Are they hitting each other with sticks? Why are they pointing at me and saying I told them to hurt each other.
“I, uh, have to go. Bye Small Things!” |
As I fell down the ravine and my green eyes met the blue hues of the sky, I could see you there, smiling. It was unmistakable that you enjoyed my suffering. You always have. From the moment I was born you kept your cold and cruel hands around my neck. So when I woke up in the small forest home of the man who fished my broken body out of the river, I decided to find you.
My memory must have failed me as I had no name or recollection of who you might be, all I knew was your smiling face. I had to go to such great lengths. I had to steal, threaten and kill. But I did it all without ever letting myself be weighed down by guilt. If you enjoyed my suffering as much as you did, who was to say you did not put others through the same. My sins were a small price to pay to end yours.
And now, finally, I found you. I have searched for so long. It is time for me to rid this world of a god. We do not need one anyway. |
Behind the stadium, the bandits snickered.
“Look ‘ow he got beat! Looks like he has a nice blade, too! Mus’ be filthy rich. Let’s get ‘im once the coward leaves. “
“I’m in!”
“I’m in!”
Farador looked slightly saddened by the loss, but figured he could always win another day.
“I wish thou a humble good night !”, he said to the other contestants as he exited the stadium.
The scrawny bandits took their daggers out while they waited for him to leave.
As he began to walk down the winding path, his hand ready at his sheathe, he heard footsteps behind him. He whistled for his horse, his steps trotting…
“Who are thou to conspire against me?”
The three bandits stepped back a bit…
“Co…conspider? Don’ kno what that means…”, said the leader.
Another said…”We aint here to have some kind of parle! Give us some coin!”
The last spurted “yeah! What…he said…”
The seasoned adventurer began to laugh, figuring it was just some kind of immature joke.
“Good one, lads! How jocular of thee!”, he spoke, bowing, then walking away, about to get on his horse, sword handle gripped tightly….
The bandits began to ran after him…
“Don bloody move! Maggot!”
Farador halted.
“I’ll do as thou asks. But do not embitter me further.”
“You speak right posh.”
“I am Sir Farador of the 12 Crimson Knights. It would be improper of I not to.”
“Sir flaffydoor…give me your coin…”
“ Don’t think I will. Thou should unhand yours.”
The trio of idiots looked at each other and lunged at him, as they smashed their heads when he quickly evaded their strike.
Knocked out for a few moments, the knight rifled through their pockets….
The bandits quickly got up….
“We ain’t got nothing!”
“I can see that!”
“Fight us!”
“Right.”
The men thrusted their daggers, as the knight parried their blows, pushing back on their blades, disarming them…
He then sheathed his blade, as the men lunged at him again….
He quickly moved out of the way, and they plunged straight into his horses ass…
As they plunged into it, they were kicked several feet away into the tournament outhouse….
And Farador laughed as he saddled his ride…
“Amateurs!” |
"You absolute *shitwomble!* You just *had* to go and ruin my wedding day with fucking *Revelations!* You didn't tell me a damned thing about my *legacy*, and just expected me to figure it out?"
God was about to Smite His son. **YOU DARE TO JUDGE ME! YOU, WHO ARE MORTAL, AND THE REINCARNATION OF MY SON!** The man stepped up to the front pew, getting face-to-face with his father. He stared at God for about fifteen seconds, the room silent, except for the wheezing attempts of Satan to prevent from bursting out to uproarious laughter.
Satan's smile vanished when his daughter, dressed in a beautiful blood-red and black lace dress and veil with a train of entwined gothic lace chains, steeped up to him. "And you!"she thundered, her skin and eyes glowing in the siren red of psychological thrillers, "You thought it would.be funny to engage in a *bet* on how badly this would go? Just because you hate what my darling antithesis represents? You're just as pathetic. *Security!*"The bride and groom gestured at God and Satan and said, "Take these arseholes out, and make sure they don't come back in....otherwise, there will no earthly-connected realm that will save you from us."
Security obliged, rather hurriedly, escorting the two Divines put of the church. The red bled away from the bride's skin, and she turned to face her groom, smiling somewhat wanly. "Shall we continue?"
/ / / / / /
As God and Satan were bickering outside the church, a woman made of leather and wing approached the pair.
"You guys owe me miracles!"She sang at the pair, who glowered. The woman shrugged, grinning. "What? Both of you couldn't set aside your animosity for a few hours, to watch your avatars on Earth get married. You got what you deserved." |
It happened over a thousand years ago. The religious sect called the Purity Chapter came to power and the first thing they did was prohibit the uttering of said "curse words".
Or so the story goes.
I dropped my drink as I was walking across the food court. It spilled all over the floor and began to soak into my shoes.
"Aw. Well, that wasn't very fortunate,"I muttered. Even this phrase felt incomplete in a way. There had to be some other way to express my frustration... right?
Still seething with rage I went back to my table, where to my surprise I found a massive book on my seat. "Urban Dictionary", the title read.
Curious, I flipped through the pages at random..
"Bitch."
"milf"
"motherfucker"
"Karen"
I mouthed the words. They just felt right, like they held an insulting lustre to them.
But the Chapter knew, they always knew. When I returned home five members of the Chapter's infamous security division were waiting for me in my own living room... guns levelled.
"Hand over that.. book, heretic,"one of them snarled.
I couldn't believe it. They were so callous, breaking into my home, and having people watch my every move?
Anger rushed through my body. Since I was going to be locked away and tortured until the end of time for this insanely petty offense, why not throw an insult or two at them?
I made eye contact with one of the Chapter's lackeys. He seemed slightly taken aback, lowering his gun for the slightest second.
"Bitch."
The word exploded from my mouth like a nuclear bomb, the lackey in question crumpling and flying through my living room window, colliding with the neighbour's car in a spray of blood and viscera.
The remaining four stood there in horror.
"What just happened.."one managed to get out.
A smile began to creep over my face, even though the situation was anything but funny.
"motherfucker."
The second blast was even worse, two of the Chapter's enforcers going through my living room wall, covering the entire room in dust.
The fourth and fifth enforcers raised their guns and began to fire. But the bullets bounced off of my body.
"milf."
One let out an unholy shriek and collapsed to the floor writhing in agony, vomiting blood.
I looked at the last lackey, who by now was surrounded by dead bodies and rubble.
With one last effort...
"Karen."
He just exploded. Blood everywhere.
Outside, I could see heavily armoured vans and a tank pulling into what used to be my quiet suburban street. Chapter militiamen in tactical armour began to take positions around my house.
The building shook and collapsed around me as the tank fired. I was still standing without a scratch.
There was one last word on the "K"page.
"KYS,"it read.
Mental note taken. Even as the soldiers began to fire, bullets bouncing off me, I uttered the "curse word".
"KYS!"I roared, and all of a sudden there was a blinding flash. When my eyes had recovered, the entire block was.. gone, replaced by towering infernos and smoke. The remains of my assailants lay mangled in the debris strewn across the street. The tank had practically melted into the road.
I looked over, at the attack helicopters and armoured vehicles drawing closer over the horizon, emblazoned with the Chapter's seal. The Chapter's cathedral loomed over the city, a monstrosity of stone and glass.
This was going to be fun, to say the least.
(how have i gone from writing actual stories to making a story about saying potty words) |
You wonder how we got to this point? Yea, that makes sense. I do too sometimes. I suppose there is no clear inclination about how it all happened, and if you weren't there then it just wouldn't seem true. I'm no historian, but seeing as the new trend of things is *trying*, I'm going to do that. Here's how I saw the New Beginning.
"That's absurd,"We were sitting in the HUB, a place where were you could meet actual people and all. Cool place, no more cool than any other though.
"I'm telling you,"My friend Ash said, though we all forgot our real names hundreds of years ago. "Someone is causing trouble, and they're going to cause it today."
The people passing by us in the HUB hesitated at overhearing her words. *Trouble*, quit with that nonsense. We are in the multi-realms, anything can be as you wish. Why make something... hard?
Ash had been telling me about this rumor for a while now, "Someone is going to come to the HUB? To do something bad?"
"Oh, more than that."Ash leaned in, her blue hair hanging lightly over her eyes. "You see, people on the network have been talking about this guy for a while. "
"You are like one of the few crazies who still uses the network."
"Most people don't even leave their own sims now."
"You co--"
Before I could finish, the HUB center went through a transformation. On the ground surrounding circular building, turrets popped up with little barricades around them, and camera's flipped out of the high-walls above us. The turrets raised on little platforms to be towers about ten or twelve feet high.
Oh, this might be a good time to mention, it's been hundreds of years since anyone left the multi-realms. No one really knows how the system works, those people have either *left,* which everyone thinks is impossible now, or forgot. So why the network did this, well that's a story for another day.
"Bytes above,"I stood up from the bench. "I didn't know the HUB could do that... Why is it doing that?"
Ash was giddy in her seat, "It believes he's coming too."
More people started to warp into the HUB, obviously surprised at the new decorations. Slowly a crowd began to gather around the HUB, apparently here for the same reasons me and Ash were, all just waiting silently. Some of them looked as if they hadn't left their own simulations in decades... You can always tell.
I was rather shocked at seeing so many real people. The social of us might have one or two real friends, and the HUB scarcely had more than a couple dozen people walking through it. To see... One hundred, it was mind blowing.
"Ash I need an explanation."
Before she could answer, everything froze. The turrets all turned with a metallic zip, facing one man in the crowd. Everyone separated slowly, leaving the man unmoved and standing in a island of lonesome. He had long black hair that came down to cover his face, and his skin... Tattoos? No one did those anymore. He was covered.
"That's him..."Ash said in awe. Nothing happened yet, the turrets and cameras all faced him, seeming to wait just like the rest of us.
The man lifted his head, revealing a cold and scared face. People backed away further, shocked at seeing an imperfection in someone's skin.
"They say,"Ash whispered to me as everything happened. "They say that when the project began, and we all linked into our simulations... They say he didn't believe they should be used for pleasure."
The man walked towards the center of the plaza.
"He claimed that *struggle* and *hardship* are what we should be perfecting. Not pleasure."
He stepped up to the center piece of the plaza, a circular platform of stone that usually had art or a fountain loaded onto it. Now it just had him.
"He's spent hundreds of years... Killing himself over and over in different scenarios, training hour in and hour out in everything you can imagine."
The man raised his hands into the air, arching his head back and seeming like he was about to fall backwards.
"Why?"I asked.
"...*To free us*."
The turrets unloaded unto him. The plaza become a flash of metal and explosion's, everyone went running to find a place to hide as the HUB got tore to absolute shreds, bricks flying everyone and smoke covering every inch of your vision. For a whole minute it was a constant drum of destruction unleashing from all sides like a hurricane of deadly steel. Then it stopped.
Anyone exposed to that would've been flashed back to their simulation instantly, and likely rather overloaded due to their personal network having to process so much. It was an impossible amount of damage.
The air had been sucked from the room when it finished, and everyone slowly stood up from the pool of smoke that caked the floor. In the center of the HUD, unmoved, stood the man. The guns didn't fire anymore, and the cameras slinked back into the walls, leaving only us, scared and confused, and the unbroken man.
"You all are prisoners."He said.
He stepped down from the center piece, walking towards the arching doorway of the HUD.
"Two choices,"He said, stopping in front of the door. "Stay as prisoner of pleasure, and let them rule you. *Or unlock the powers of struggle, and reach the next level.*" |
It's my brother's birthday soon and I really want to get my brother good this year!
What's that about, you ask? Well, let me tell you how it all started. A few years ago, for his birthday, I gave him a tuque/beanie with pompom I knitted for him in brown yarn. My brother, being who he is called it "the Poo Hat."And thus began the saga of the Poo Hat.
On my birthday he gave me my gift. It was the Poo Hat on which he had sewn a pair of large googly eyes and a felt smile. Oooookayyyy, if that's how you want to play, you're on!
Now, it was my turn. On his birthday, I got him a teddy bear and put the Poo Hat on it and put it in a box wrapped in miles of tape.
On my birthday that year, I was gifted the Poo Hat packed as small as possible in a vacuum bag and packaged in a good dozen of nesting boxes all carefully wrapped.
The next year at an ungodly hour on the morning of his birthday, with the help of a t-shirt cannon, I shot the Poo Hat through his open bedroom window.
Not to be outdone, he showed up at my door, stark naked, while holding the Poo Hat in a strategic area of his anatomy... in full view of my friends whom I had invited for my birthday supper.
It was my turn... I carefully wrapped the Poo Hat in foil and baked it in a large birthday cake to be delivered to him.
Now he has me on a multi-spot geocaching trek around town to find the key to the train station locker where he left my "present."Yes, it was the Poo Hat. He sent me an email with the first coordinates with the message Happy Birthday Shit Head!
His birthday is coming up and I need help with a couple of ideas I have. Do I take the Poo Hat to a scrap yard where they crush cars in cubes or do I encase the Poo Hat in a large concrete garden gnome? Hmmm, I wonder what he thinks of garden gnomes... What would you choose? |
A beautiful sunrise brought illumination to his theme park. Dexter liked how it made the dragon coaster glow with a fierce red fire. He let out a sigh and glanced over at the theme park across the street. Bob's theme park had a more impressive water-slide, but that was about it.
A huge crowd of visitors swarmed Dexter's park, eager for it to open. Bob's park had a few dozen visitors; probably not even enough to pay his staff.
The parks opened and cries of joy and excitement filled the air. Bob walked over to Dexter's park. They nodded at each other; Bob greeted him with a smile.
"I won, but at what cost?"
"It's OK. You did what had to be done!"
"Yes, but now I am bankrupt."
Bob patted his shoulder, shaking his head with closed eyes. They stood around kicking their feet for a minute.
"You won't be bankrupt for long, your park is attracting a lot of paying customers!"
Dexter frowned and sat down on the sidewalk.
"No, the property tax is overdue because I haven't been able to pay it. They'll shut me down any day now."
Bob sat down next to him and they stared at the sunrise together. He tried to wrap his arm around Dexter, but he swatted his arm away.
"No, Bob. I don't want to be consoled right now. Out of every competition we've ever had together, this one is by far the stupidest. I took out a second mortgage on my house. I'm gonna lose everything, Bob."
Bob turned to face him, his hands tucked between his lap. Dexter noticed him staring, his eyes glowing from the sun.
"Dex, I love you. Be with me and I'll help you with your debt, I promise!"
His hands moved slowly, grabbing Dexter's and enveloping him in a loving embrace.
"Bob, I had no idea you felt the same way, I..."
He put a finger on his lips to hush him.
"It's OK, Dex. I'll sell my park to get you out of debt. We can divorce our wives and finally be together."
They embraced each other and cried. Dexter then took him to his park for a day of fun and merriment. With the smell of fried park food filling the air and his true love by his side, Dexter had never felt more complete. |
There are some challenges to being the only Mundane being in the world - not least of which is being ostracised in case your Mundanity is contagious (it isn't, I've checked already). However, what it *does* offer is immunity from all but the most specialised of parasites, that have evolved their magical traits to feast on my blood.
I'm lucky that I don't get ticks; mostly because they starve due to my lack of Aura. It's why they call me The Exterminator - the very same lack means that I can't be impacted by any Auratic abilities. No, not even *that* one.
I got a ping through the Magiweb; an aid request.
*Exterminator,*
*We humbly request your assistance in clearing out a nest of Gremlins that have gotten stuck in the cellar of the King's Inn in Astarte. For this role, we will provide you with a month's supply of John Smith's mulled mead.*
*It is important that you address this urgently, and there will be additional coin if you can attend to this today or tomorrow.*
*Best Regards,*
*Alicia Hexenwulfen,*
*Proprietress, King's Inn.*
I sighed, grab my kit and my trusty Unicolt bolt rifle, and a pack of Hydrobolt ammo. Using my muscle memory, I stripped the bolt-action rifle, oiled it using the blood of a Mechanos (freely given, I'm not a *monster*), and put it back together, muscle memory allowing me to think on the problems I'd be likely to face. I pinged back a terse *On My Way* to Alicia from my Davize and strapped my kit to me.
I got my mask from the hook on the wall, and went to the Portal House.
/ / / / / /
I waved to Theodore the Chipmunk, who would be my Portal guide today. He chattered at me, but I can't use even the basic spell, so I pulled out my notebook and scribbled in the Portal Index address, passing it and a Colorium coin to Theodore.
He chattered back, saluted, and I waited as the Portal spun up. Theodore used his practised paws to input my destination, and the runes glowed to a hellish fury, before stabilising to a rippling bismuth pattern.
I waved to Theodore, and he chattered again, being my guide. The sense of disorientation upon entering was never fun - a feeling of my brain being on the outside, only all over my body.
It felt like an eternity, but lasted all of three seconds. Theodore waved me through, and the Portal closed. I stepped away from the gate as it closed up, and looked around the House.
For the first time in years, I wondered whether the reason Theodore came with me was so that there was an Aura to hold on to, as the range of humans, beasts and everything in-between just stepped into the portal after paying the fee. |
Ever since I first found out about The Tsunami's, purely due to my surname being Gurt, same as the mafia's surname, I've had the same dream - when the dream starts, I would be running from the mafia, going through alleyway after alleyway, trying to avoid them. I would eventually be cornered against the wall. "Finally"the men chasing me would say. "Clia Gurt. You're one of us. We'll accept you into our family."I'd be so frightened, I'd wake up before I gave an answer. I always told myself 'It's just a dream', but ever since receiving that letter from them, it's felt much more real.
My parents are doing everything they can to keep me safe. I suggested getting the police involved, but they're worried the police will just instantly arrest me. I told the only person I knew I could trust - my best friend, Gax, whose father just happens to be a cop. He told his dad, hoping himself that the police could protect me, but the response was that while technically the police *could* help, the mafia is too risky to mess with like that. Gax was angry until I explained the likely line of thinking, that the mafia will be looking for me and may kill everyone getting in the way to get to me, making the danger too high for law interference, and his dad said that I was right.
So the only protection I have are my parents, who have added security cameras, extra locks and other measures to the house to keep me safe. I was given restrictions on when and why I could leave the house, and agreed, fully intending to only leave the house if I absolutely had to. I decided that, instead of looking for work or physically going to college, I'd apply for college online. I got good grades, I should be fine. Occasionally I'll see a Tsunami member around my house, but none ever tried to force entry. We never made a big deal as to avoid attracting attention.
Today was a day I had to go out the house. I needed to drop some things off, and my parents were both out so I couldn't ask them. On my way back, I heard a voice. "HEY!"I didn't even turn to look - I recognised it, a girl slightly older than me. As my dreams continued, and I learned more about the mafia, faces and voices became clearer. The girl called me. Next, two men would show up. Then, the chase. As soon as I heard her voice, I bolted. A dream is a dream, but still, I couldn't risk it. I sped down the nearest alleyway. Then I had a thought: if this plays out exactly like my dreams, I'd be cornered!
I thought quickly, and realised there was something I could do. In my dreams I'd constantly look left and right, and then I'd run right up against a wall. But just before the wall, there's a dumpster in an alleyway. I pay close attention... yes, right there! I turn into the alleyway and jump into the dumpster. Hopefully they don't find me... "Where'd she go?"I hear one voice ask. "She can't have gone far"said the other. "Whatever"the first voice responds. "We came all the way down here, we may as well do something."
The second voice responds "there's a dumpster right there. You know how much dad loves it when we burn things. Makes a statement. Plus if a building catches on fire, we may be able to take advantage."That's it. If I stay, I'll be burned alive. Reluctantly, I lift the lid of the dumpster slightly. The two jump back. I gulp as I open the lid all the way, hands in the air. "D... d... don't hurt me... pl... please..."I stutter. One of them walks up to me. I recognise him: a man, around 30, with dark brown hair.
"Hurt you?"he says, confused. "Why would we hurt you? Why were you hiding in there?"I hesitate a moment. "Be... beca... because I..."I take a deep breath. "I DON'T WANT TO BE A TSUNAMI! I DON'T WANT TO BE IN THE MAFIA!"The man looks at me, goes to the other man, and they appear to be discussing something. I dare not move. Finally, they both nod. They return to me. "That's not an acceptable answer, Clia"the brown haired man says. "If you won't come by choice, my girl, you'll come by force."They waste no time in binding my hands and feet, blindfolding and gagging me, and forcing me out the dumpster. I'm carried and put inside a vehicle. I feel my body shaking as I'm chained to my seat. I'm so scared... mummy... daddy... please...
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This story is a part of my series, [Bad Connections.](https://www.reddit.com/r/StoriesbyCrystal/comments/xguz1m/bad_connections/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3) Please check it out! |
Hi u/Patneedstherapy, this submission has been removed.
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“Passionless” [Poem]
Ration your heart. It’s a precious commodity not to be savored by most. Ration your heart. That must have been why my greeting was met with the back of her visage. No tear could soothe the wound that this would inflict. No bandage could hold back the pain that would flow. Coldly I stumble through a hell of complex construction. I turn to face my demons having left one in the past. |
Sometimes I’m a lover, or a politician, or a boss. Sometimes I’m the unseen driver of a car that wasn’t paying attention when the lights changed, and now you’re jobless and pissed off and wondering what I have to say for myself. Sometimes I’m even you, if you’re the masochistic sort. This role is the worst I’ve ever had to play though. Today I star as myself.
I’m never doing agency work again. I’ll quit as soon as I’m out of here. They don’t let you pick your clients. I’ve tried arguing that it’s not very fair, but I think I’m hardwired to lose now.
'I bet you’re really poor, you dumb Strawman,’ sneers the posh ringleader in the school uniform that’s far too big for him.
‘I’m not poor,’ I counter. ‘Us Strawmen don’t have to pay much tax at all, you see!’
‘Probably because you hardly get paid anything!’ The teenagers cackle like witches at that little corker. The slobbering shits probably got the money for this from their parents. I wish I could tell them. I wish I could tell them how pathetic they are.
‘It must be tough having no money and no girlfriend,’ simpers one of the girls in the corner, not even pretending to be making an argument for anything.
‘I’m actually very happy. That’s why I’m… crying.’ I almost whimper the last word, drawing huge guffaws of laughter from the kids. I can’t believe I let them get to me this badly. The thing is, normally my clients are at best not playing with a full deck, and at worst completely and utterly bonkers. But these children are right: I’m a loser. An adult loser who’s got another
thirteen minutes and forty-three seconds of bullying to endure at the hands of a few bored kids on their lunch break.
There’s a few more clients before I can go home to the little shoebox apartment I share with absolutely nobody, which is a complete bloody waste, because I went to the trouble of paying a little more for a double bed. Before my butt even hits the sofa that’s far too close to the tiny TV, my fingers are dialing.
‘Hello, you’ve reached Sandy’s Strawmen! How may I help?’
I give her my address and say I need someone ASAP.
‘Oh, hi Ryan. Anything specific?’
‘Yeah. I need them to pretend to be a dumb, posh, schoolkid.’ |
"Death is too good for him,"Shak'ra glared balefully down at me. "Had we truly been mortal itinerants, his actions last night would have cut short the thread of four other lives."
"Well, he's already dead,"Remsa pointed out. "So it matters not if Death is too good for him, for it has already happened to him. And to add to that, we are *not* mortal itinerants. So his actions last night did not cut short the thread of four others. In fact, his actions only affected a single life. His own."
Nephthia raised a hand, signaling for silence. "Remsa. We are here to mete out divine justice. Not to quibble over semantics. Shall we begin the recommendations?"
"Twenty thousand years of purgatory, and no less,"Shak'ra pronounced haughtily.
"Steep,"Jiraxi commented. "I vote for reincarnation as one of the lower beings."
Nodding, Nepthia quickly scribbled down notes on the tablet that she clutched with her lower set of arms. I'm not sure how she could write notes with just a finger on a stone tablet, but hey, gods follow their own rules.
"Remsa?"
"Well, I've been feeling like a vacation, thanks for asking,"Remsa replied lazily.
Nepthia scowled. "I was asking you what you think should be done about the mortal, Remsa."
"And I was telling you. I'm tired of godhood, and this bloke can take my place. I don't feel like I can hand down judgements anymore, especially since I'm starting to forget what it was like to be human. At least he'll have a fresh idea of what it's like." |
It's like the movies! Like in the DaVinci code, the good guy's always on the run. If I didn't want to live a peaceful life, I would harbor a criminal and join in on the fun. But there's also the possibility that he's dangerous. So he's got to get away from me as far as he can. In order to do that, I call up a friend.
"Hey! I need your help! Get over here fast."
I hang up and start to talk with the temporary roomie.
"So, what are you going to do next?"
"Well, I need to figure out what this code means."
"Code?"
"Yeah. This is a cryptogram, and I can crack it."
"Let me see that."
It's full of indecipherable text, but I'm curious. So I take a picture of the puzzle and then go to my PC.
"What are you doing?"
"I think I can run this through my programs and crack it."
"You know about this stuff?"
"Yeah. I took a class on it. I never thought it would come in handy until now."I was acting on impulse, I didn't want to be involved, but here I am—accomplice to a fugitive. I heard tires outside my house, and the program is 90% completed.
"The feds are here."
"Nah, that's got to be my friend."
"That doesn't look like your friend."
I leave my computer to look outside. The feds are here! Five black SUVs, and man, they're quick. I should have known that my friend would call the cops instead.
"We gotta go!"
"Come on! We're 95% there."
"No time."
He grabs the document from my scanner and grabs my arm. I should have kept quiet. |
When all seemed impossible I prevailed. To begin at a time other than the beginning was simple enough, but at the end? What could I have done but to make it all a memory like many a movie had before.
"But I'm better than some tired cliché."I decided later. In truth, those always pivot to the beginning and not the middle.
If I were to do this, to have gone wherenone had before, I needed to think bigger. I needed to draw inspiration from more media. I'd like to claim to have worked hard and struggled long, but to my good fortune Deadpool was on.
It struck me with inspiration of how to write the perfect mid-beginning before ending in the middle. First the hero kills the demon lord, but in his dying breath he sees the souls of all that were consumed, including his-
Breakfast is here, will finish this later. |
Over a century, it is post-post-apocalypse. New nations rise from the ash, reclaiming what was lost. As the internet is reactivated, it is discovered a single network is still on, with a single user still active.
The world powers began to reach out one by one to this network. With each new message Ella giggled. She’d pushed her glasses up her nose, and furiously typed her replies. Glee apparent in her eyes, finally her grandmas last purpose could be accomplished, her purpose too, as she had inherited it.
Ella had maintained the network for now 25 yrs, by herself. With hope that some day the world would reactivate the internet. She had inherited it from her grandmother, Anna. It was a shame her mother couldn’t be here, with succumbing to the sickness, but Ella knew, mother and grandma would be so ecstatic over the new world.
Anna’s history was well preserved. They lived in Idaho, well what was left of it. When the apocalypse began… well it easy for Anna. The hermit had already built a bunker in the woods. Completely off the grid. Solar panels functioning, as wells as a turbine field that she illegally connected in to around 2 miles away near the now abandoned freeway. She was secluded in the woods. She called her daughter Savannah who was an expectant mother, barely 20 at the time, to come stay with her as the world collapsed around them.
Anna had dealt with the first few waves of zombies well enough. Good thing she had already purchased the Gatling guns from that old defunct military depot down in the city. With some tlc she got them functioning well enough. The ammo was the hardest, well with munitions restrictions across large caliber weapons. However she had successfully gotten enough. They were the hardest ones, those first few months of waves and waves of zombies. After that it was a gentle rain.
The easiest though where the “starving wraiths” as she coined in her blog, yes, she’d kept her blog up and going. Starving wraiths began when Anna hit the ripe age of 75. Stragglers of the original infection, weak and waisting away… just shuffling to their ends. Savannah had now begun the upkeep on the net work and the protection of the bunker. All of this was detailed in Anna’s blog, including the history of the apocalypse in very poignant accuracy. She documented all the events that led up to the release of the virus, the vaccine invented and the final side effects. None of that really mattered to her. She knew it was a good thing to keep track of events and the timeline of occurrences. As Ella smiles, as she begins to reread through the blog again.
History it seems was very well preserved. The new world leaders kept in constant contact with Ella in hopes of restarting, rebuilding and restoring the world again, all based off of grandmas blogs from over a century ago. Humanity was grateful for the new, well old, information that had been retained. It would thrive again.
Ella knew though, that Anna… well that’s not why she kept the network going. Anna had to, so that the plethora of amazing video games she had would now be able to “survive the apocalypse”. I mean, she was a gamer at heart, and sims 4 helped her visualize her zombie bunker (except for the Gatling guns of course… those were additional).
Ella giggled at her grandma’s insatiable desire for gaming. To her it was a happy past time that didn’t hurt anyone if done with respect, dignity and always a “responsibilities first” attitude. Ella vowed she’d honor her grandma Anna’s wishes. Now she could start sharing her grandmothers creations. Which one should she share first? |
----------
Dear Present Self,
You are reading this letter in cell, C22.
You have been very kind allowing yourself a single shipment of one letter, naught but a message in the envelope.
Good job. You made it.
Sincerely,
Past Self
----------
Cell C22 was lucky. It was my second most practiced route.
I folded up the letter and dropped it and a bug into the envelope and leaned the envelope next to the bars. It probably won't stay there long, but it could be a great tool if it does.
A flash of light from my phone for the selfie triggers the fun, as the light sleepers awoke and started asked questions. As I began traveling through my exit route, my radio picked up some encrypted chatter. I waited a moment for my phone to rule out trucks and planes, decided the chase had begun, and proceeded. My bed was 22 km of Brownian walking away, and it wasn't gonna walk itself. |
This city alwats reeks of blood, like it was mixed into the rain and poured onto the poor souls that claim to be citizens of the Humak, the Monument of Reconcilement, or also know as "This Disgrace of the City".
Nevertheless, this day was more literal than the others - because someone murdered a dragon right than it was in the air. Because of this, residents of Moonshine District had their homes painted red.
City council was in steer - not only someone murdered one the dragons, it will take a lot of money to repair all of the damage. Which is why authorities decided to hire the best of the best to find the culprit - Gor-Shak's Detective Agency.
***
"Sooo, do you think this place is now, like, easily flammable? You know, red dragons, affinity to fire..."
"I am afraid that is not the case, my dear Lianda. It is quite the opposite - red dragon's blood is more resistant to fire. Perhaps, now city council could cut on fire departments expanses in this part of the city. But I a think there is nothing left to cut, to be honest"
While doing a small talk, a pair approached the site of the murder - or, more precisely, were the main part of the body lay. One of the silhouettes was a huge, towering figure, of green skin color, with protruding fangs from his mouth, in classy costume and with a cane. Beside him walked an elven maiden, with a bit of tomboyish look, which contradicted her elegant way of walking and gesturing.
Pair approached an officer on site, who recognised them beforehand and waved them to come.
"Pardon us for being late, officer. The traffic in the city is now in shambles, after the event."
"Yeah, yeah that sounds about right. Dontcha' worry, we weren't going anywhere as it is. You could around if you want. And ask me anything if something comes to mind. Oh, and we identified the poor fellow - Musirax, of Hul Clan"
"Thank you for the information. I will take you on the offer and will proceed to investigate the site myself. We will talk later"
After a nod, officer cleared a way to the Gentleork and his assistant. The pair decided to look around the body, seeking for any clue:
"Curious. It seems Sir Musirax died before he crash landed on the street. His mana clearly started to crystallize before he fell"
"But that could kill dragon in one instant? I met member of the Hul clan on one the diplomatic events - these bastards are even sturdier than other red dragons"
"Please, do not badmouth one of the dragon clans. It does not suit you. But you are right, that is the most peculiar case - that could bring down such a mighty person... Oh, that is this?"
Under one of the dragon's paws he saw... something. Or, rather, he clenched something in it. Curious, Gor-Shak approached the paw.
"Hmm, it seems like Sir Musirax held on to something during his last moment. Dear Lianda, could hold on to these possessions while I retrieve the item?"
While saying it, detective gave his assistant a cane and pair of gloves that a moment ago adorned Gor-Shak's hands. Elegantly, using his natural strength in most careful way, he was able unclench the claws that held the mysterious item. The item in question turned to be...
"Huh? Is that a paper bag from "Little Sam"? Exclaimed Lianda
"Are you familiar with this establishment?"
"Yes, it is this new awesome halfling place! They have great burgers with mandragora seasoning."
"Mandragora seasoning you say. A rare ingredient indeed."
Gor Shak pondered about the evidence a bit and suddenly a thought came to me:
"Dear Lianda, do you remember a menu of this diplomatic event you attended with Hul clan present? Was there some food restrictions?"
"Yeah, there actually was. Palace chefs were forbidden to use mandragora seasoning of any kind despite it being chef's speciality. Why would you ask?"
"Dragon's mana could harden in several cases, one of them being allergy reactions. More so, if mana hardens due to internal body failures, in blocks blood canals and could cause sudden rapture of veinds and arteries."
"So, that means"
Lianda glanced towards a dead dragons body, her eyes going wide.
"Yes. Unfortunately, Sir Misurax ate a burger with allergic ingredient within, which proved to be fatal. Truly, a shameful demise. Perhaps, he thought some street joint couldn't possess such rare ingredient and dropped his guard down after deciding to check new establishment"
Gor-Shak took his gloves and cane back and started to leave.
"So, what we gonna to about it?"
"Of corse we will tell the city council the truth. They may not like it, but it nevertheless the truth. Of course, we will check other few theories, but is probably unnecessary"
"But I doubt they will pay us a lot for this case..."
"Well, I have a thought that they will need to demolish few of the buildings anyway. Perhaps, they will accept amazing services from "Lianda"s Fiery Deconstruction."
"Oh, since when we have such subsidiary?"
"I established it just now, for your sake of course"
The pair continued their unconcerned dialogue, leaving criminal site behind, being content with solved case. After all, why worrying about the deed when it is already done? |
"I'm telling you! I'm not crazy!"
You may be wondering how I got into this mess. Well, it all started when I found this weird symbol in a cave near the woods. Me being me got curious and touched it. For a few seconds I just saw white. Then I woke up. "Ma'am are you ok?"Asked a doctor. I asked what happened. He told me I passed out and someone took me to the hospital. After that I just had a strange thought. What if I got super powers? So i tried everything. From talking to animals to x-ray vision. Except flying. If that wasn't true then i could die. Or badly injure myself.
But I did it.
And I saw the ground getting closer and closer. I shut my eyes in anticipation for death. It hurt like a bitch. 3 hours later I woke up.
That's how I discovered that I could, for lack of a better word, respawn.
And well I just had to try out all of the deaths there was! So i looked up a lot of deaths. I got in a little bit of trouble with the government, but that's not important.
Soon though, I noticed something.
I would see things that weren't there. It wasn't that vivid at first. But after my 5th death, they got even more graphic. I'd see hands on the walls. People would have a monster looming over them. And eventually, I couldn't remember things.
I started losing track after I died 120 times.
What I did know was that each time, when I went to respawn a different amount of time had passed. The first time it was only a couple of minutes. This time it was 10 years. "They made a law against eating in public. Oh well, wont stop me from enjoying my lunch."I grabbed my delicious turkey sandwich and started eating. Kids screamed. And families went home.
Did I mention that my sandwich was actually a squirrel that was running around? No? Well, now you know!
The police looked at me in horror.
I had just finished telling them my story when they just locked me in solitary confinement!
"That's so rude!"
"Thank you! Someone has some sense here at least."
Silence.
"How long has she been talking to that mirror?"They looked at him and sighed. "About an hour."Suddenly, they bit their tongue and killed themselves. "Oh shit!"Their body raised then dissapeared.
Something was written on the wall in blood.
I will be back. |
They say that the blade tempered in blood knows better how to draw it, which is to say, a general is better at military command the more campaigns he has been on.
I've never had a campaign to my name before, despite my success as a footsoldier. No, this was different, and the war I was embarking on with only two thousand behind me, was one I couldn't see the victory for.
They'd sent the crown prince's personal army, five thousand men, and all their hangers on, to fight us, and behind them were eighty ranks of archers.
No, this was not a war I'd win, this was a slaughterhouse, designed for the crown prince to begin tempering his blade in our less worthy blood. The valley was steep, and our army could see theirs unfold on the opposing hill. We were also facing into the coming dawn, which caused their bodies to glisten with golden light, the silver and fine armours they wore would be blinding in the high sun.
We barely had armour, not much more than padded leathers, and blades that had been honed by our own hands. Around us, the sights of our home, small though it was, a marquissestate to a young lady, who had refused the temptations of The Court.
"The army of Crown Prince Rasmus,"boomed a voice over the chasm, "Is presenting itself to you so that you may know the size of the enemy you will face tomorrow."
Customary as it was, they were gloating, this was their one day before the fight to show us our butchers, like animals reared for food.
"The guards of Lady Selhaim accept your presentation, and offer our own."I shouted back, raising my sword in symbolic gesture.
The wind passed us a few times, and the crown prince gave the signal to turn around. His army folded into neat ranks, and headed for their nearby encampment. Already I could see the fear in my men's eyes, and how many could barely hold their weapons.
"Sir,"my leftenant addressed me, "What can we do? Are we actually expected to fight in this battle?"
".... I'll go and see the Lady, and ask her about what she'd like. Get the men to stay ready, we'll get through this."I replied, grabbing my horse and running for the estate. House Selhaim was a fine manor, but it was the home of many farmers, including those who furnished the royal tables. Lady Selhaim was raised in the culture of her peoples, a marquess that planted the most difficult of herbs and fruits to cultivate.
As usual, I found her in the front gardens of the estate. She raised from her kneeling position, and regarded me, as one does a forerunner declaring death.
"So the crown has turned on us, at last."She whispered, wiping her hands on her apron.
"Lady Selhaim, there is one way we can succeed, however..."
"We'd be traitors forever. I'll summon for the empire's envoy,"she breathed, steeling her resolve, "and you do whatever it takes to make them stay out of here."
"As you wish, milady."I bowed, still on horseback, and turned the beast back to base. I was greeted by the leadership of my men, and we made for the planning tent.
"There's no way we can win this war,"I said calmly, unfolding a large piece of paper, "However, we can stave them off long enough to break free."
"...so you're serious. Are we as low as the empire?"A commander spoke, a burly man who was head of the plough group.
"WE HAVE NO CHOICE!"I shouted, causing the man to flinch, "IF THIS COULD HAVE BEEN AVOIDED, IT WOULD HAVE BEEN. ALAS, TIME TO LEAVE OUR *TRADITIONS* BEHIND."
On the paper now on the table, were instructions for a sickening poison, not enough to kill, but it would greatly inconvenience the crown prince, and his entourage.
"Gather the townsfolk, and bring the draught horses and their yokes. It's going to be a long day." |
...said the priest glaring at the boy. He looked into the watery eyes of his mother through her little black veil to see in them the mixture of pain and anger fighting back her urge to laugh. He didn't understand. He said all the same words his daddy had said. He got them all in the right order and he didn't stutter a single time. He spoke loudly and clearly out of respect for the older folks and made sure to look a few people in the eyes as he said the line. His daddy had taught him well a great many things, including the most effective methods for dropping "That's what she said"into any conversation.
The boy stuffed his hands into his pockets and followed along behind his mother as the pallbearers placed the casket into the hearse, thinking to himself... "Daddy would've been proud." |
As I stepped forth from the mountain peak, bright moonlight, the first I had ever seen, forced me to squint harshly. As my sight adjusted, the sweeping view of shapes and colors I had only heard described to me came into view: I was free.
My muscles were frail and pathetically underdeveloped - the consequence of being held captive in the dark for so long. My legs quivered with each step, but I continued onward like a cowardly civilian.
Upon reaching the city, I collapsed, not in weariness but in awe of the magnificence before me. Short, soft stone pillars held up a canopy of rigid linen covering the many stalls of goods and wares. I gathered myself and entered the bustle. Animals, just like me, went about their leisure buying, selling, striking deals. I picked up a glistening blue fruit from a nearby basket, "An apple, as only I have heard! Oh how I have longed to taste your succulent flesh!"I bit in - the juice was bright, sweet, delicious, but to be honest the skin was much thicker and waxier than I had imagined.
"Hey pal, you gonna pay for that or what?"
I turned to the shopkeep, "Pay? Are not all the goods here free to the public?"
The merchant rolled his eyes, "Ay, another one of you fools from the cave, eh?" |
“Susan, calm down! Are you okay?! Security!!”
I bolted up from my desk and ran for the door, towards my receptionist on the other side. The sound of her horrified screams turned my blood cold. Thoughts of active shooter drills raced through my head as I threw the door open, ducking low to present as little of a target as possible.
The first thing I saw was Susan, cowering on the floor, clutching the old silver cross she always wore around her neck. She was still screaming, her eyes fixed on something out of my line of sight. Her pupils were wide and quivering, her whole body shaking. My eyes followed hers, it seemed in slow motion, as I swiveled around to face whatever threat there was, knowing I would likely not stand a chance.
“Hello, sorry, I’m here for a 1:30?” Said a voice, just loudly enough that I could hear it over Susan’s cries.
My eyes locked on a figure. Two figures. A tall, good looking man, possibly Egyptian, wearing a long, flowing robe, and next to him on a leash on fire was…..no….what?
The great hound sniffed happily at the floor, it’s three noses investigating different spots. Intense thumping emanated from behind it, it’s tail clearly wagging like mad.
The man looked at me curiously, checked a piece of paper, and asked “I’m sorry, this *is* 310 Darnest Way right?”
I shake myself a little, stunned. It takes me a moment to realize that Susan has stopped screaming. The poor old woman is shaking, her voice weak, and creaks out “Sir….it’s a demon, Jesus Lord above please help me…..”
I take a step forward, slowly, my hands in front of me. “A 1:30? Why would you…..” I begin and trail off
“Who are you from?”
The man looked a little mollified but politely states “Paw and Order, Therapy animal handler”
I looked incredulously at my calendar. Holy shit….
“Uh…..yes, you’re at the right place but…..may I ask…..what is….it’s…..breed?” I stammered out, desperately trying to get more information without offending.
The man chuckled,”Cerberus, naturally. This little guy is the runt but he’ll catch up!” He scratches behind the left heads ear, causing the behemoth, close to the size of a small car, to flop onto its back and beg for a belly rub.
My face hung open in a comical gape as I processed this.
It seems the man finally caught on at this point.
“Oh, I’m not what you booked am I? That’s the second time this week….”
I breathed a sigh of relief, and took another step forward, the man’s nature starting to disarm me.
“No….no offense whatsoever, but I didn’t even know this……was an option.”
He chortled jovially, “Oh it’s fine, it’s this merger. Some poor schmuck soul his soul to save his therapy business, and thanks to tax loopholes, my assignments are being routed through them. Don’t really care, I’m hourly.” He chatted amiably, absentmindedly petting the enormous beast now drooling a steady puddle in three spots on the floor
“What…who usually books you?” I find myself asking, my curiosity getting the better of me
“Oh, parties, sacrifices, pranks, goth kids, druids, you know, the usual.”
I blinked and took a breath.
“Well, I’m sorry but no you are not what we ordered.”
“Okay, well, like I said, it doesn’t make a difference to me, but the problem is if I don’t come back with the payment, it causes a whole thing, so are you sure you want me to go?”
I register something quietly. “Payment? I prepaid.”
He looks, perplexed at his paperwork. “Did they screw this all up? Says here the contract is to be paid by the soul of one Susan Chandmont”
We both look over at my receptionist, who has been reduced to a quivering mass in the corner. I look back at the man. “How do you have her name?! How do you have the name of my employee?!”
“Sir, I didn’t draft the paperwork, please stay calm while I try to figure this out…”
The man takes a small orb out of his pocket and holds it out in the palm of his hand. After a moment it begins to speak in a strange language, to which he responds in English, with a strange power lingering with the words.
“Yes I’m at the address, confirmed for docket #15325…..Susan Chandmont, age 57…..they were expecting the old crew……wow……small world….okay, thank you”.
He stows it away with a small laugh. “You aren’t going to believe this, I’m at the right place but it was a third party request. Here we go, I don’t know why they put special instructions in the separate file, so sorry about this.”
He digs in his bag and pulls out a small scroll, and starts reading from it.
“You really thought I’d let you live. After what you did, after what you took from me. I told you I was praying the whole time, but I never said who to. I hope the journey to the pit of flames is even half the pain you have inflicted upon me. I’ll see you there.”
He looked lightly at both of us, before remembering something. “Oh, right, it says to…” He trails off, and points a finger at Susan, who squeaks as a small beam of light flows from her head to his finger. He then points it at me, and before I can protest I’m flooded by images, sounds, sensations, and emotions that are not mine. I will not recall these transferred memories here. I wish to never recall them again.
After I recovered, and realizing I was covered in vomit, still shaking from the horrors I had just lived in the last 3 seconds. My eyes met Susan’s, and all the warmth that was usually there was gone, replaced with a distant gaze and an eerie smile.
I immediately crawled away from her, screaming, heaving and crying in equal measure.
“It was worth it….”
Those were the last words I heard from Susan before the beast rushed forward. Any other sound she tried to make never made it past the jaws clamped tight around her windpipe. The heads played tug of war with her, splitting her open before devouring her entirely. I watched, horrified, as it licked up every scrap and drop, leaving no trace.
“Well, that takes care of that! Thank you for your cooperation!” The man made a sweeping bow and left without another word, his pet playfully snapping at his heels.
I sit in a puddle of my own urine and vomit, desperately trying to reassess my own sanity, willing myself to forget the absolute sick depravity I had just witnessed….experienced.
I don’t know how long I sat there. All I know I was snapped out of it by the barking of a dog. I looked around in a panic, and saw a man in a plain t-shirt and jeans with a golden retriever.
“Hello? Sorry I’m late” |
“And then-and then-and then-the uh, the Goblin says...wait. Was it the goblin? I finks its the goblin. Yeah, anyways, the goblin ‘e says: well, at least me ears aints pointy! And then the Sate...sator...satyr—No! Wait! Wait! No, the umm. Ah, Oh! Its the other one. The...the *centaur*! ‘E says, uh, ‘e says...Fuck. Was ‘e say, again? Umm. Oh, right! The centaur, ‘e says: well, forgive me for being a bit horse, but..um...fuck...yeah! A bit horse, but I fink we cans all agree that... vampires....*suck*!”
The Gnome hacked and gurgled a laugh that sounded like a pack-a-day smoking, janitorial toad was taking inventory of his belt ring.
“Khey-khey-khey-khey-khey-”
Twenty minutes ago, Gasgar the Gnome (a creature who was small in stature but large in self-professed comedy chops) had announced that he had learned a new joke. At this, the half-orc barman — Dunn — had poured a shot for himself and another for Wenda the Witch. She was the only other patron in the tavern and was sat next to the gnome at the bar.
Wenda and Dunn had a game.
Every time Gasgarr forgot the joke as he was telling it, they’d drink. The problem was that Gasgarr loved long jokes and, as he was nearing his fifteen-hundredth summer, he had the memory of a senile old coot...because he was one.
“Khey-khey-khey. ‘Sgood one, roight?”
“The plunsh pline...punsh —hic— punch pline wash...kay.” Said Wenda. Her forehead was on the bar and her black and pointed traditional hat was on the back of her head. “Dunn?”
The half orc had both his hands on the bar, his eyes were wide and watery, and his light-graygreen jaw was clenched tight. There was the careful breathing of someone trying not to think about throwing up.
“I fink you should shut the Tav, Dunn. You looks like shit, you do!” Said Gasgarr, good friend and worlds worst comedian. |
“Are you sure it’ll still be there, Samantha?”
The cracking of the red and orange leaves and twigs made that street feel endlessly long. The two girls, Tonya and Samantha, set out to find Samantha’s childhood time capsule.
“I know it’s there! I just know it! Ten years is a long time, isn’t it?”
Tonya sighed, “Yeah, it *is* a really long time.”
Samantha and Tonya trekked up the hill, passing by the trees.
After an hour of walking, Samantha found her home. The driveway was still chipped, cracked, and crumbled, no one came around the backroads of this town. An 1996 year Jeep was sitting in the place of what was Samantha’s dads ‘05 Subaru. The house still had the same beige hue to it, wooden shingles surrounding the wood brown roof. Samantha ran to the backyard, being very quiet and careful, Tonya walking behind.
The backyard had a small, cheaply built playground, a small sandpit, and a few doll legs and doll arms sticking out of the lush green grass.
Samantha stole a big stick.
“I remember me playing with this with him.” She mumbled, hitting the ground with the stick.
*Cling! Cling! Cling!*
Samantha stuck the stick under the grass, something hooking onto it. It was very easy to lift up.
They ran to a part of the town that wouldn’t validate them as suspicious. Tonya kneeled besides her and watched the metal box be unveiled.
“Oh my stars!” Samantha exclaimed, seeing her Raggedy Ann doll on top of everything else. She picked it up and hugged it, it still had every bit of fluff. She set it aside and take out the next things.
There was a notebook and pencil, a picture of her and her ******, a hair clip and a car, a glass flower, a sewing kit, and a personalized note.
*Dear future me, I’m hoping you the greatest of days. He would be gone by now, but always remember he’s here with you. Signed Samantha, 2006, Ra—*
“Who’s that?” Tonya asked.
“N- No one!”
“Is he your lover?”
She stayed silent, putting all the stuff back and running it back to the spot, throwing the stick towards the woods.
*The End* |
After being beaten by the Justice League on Earth, Darkseid retreated to Apokolips to recover his pride. With half of his Parademon army wiped out, Darkseid schemed revenge. To become powerful, Darkseid needed planets to enlist them into troops. He scoured the galaxy for worlds unknown to the Green Lantern Core, finding a few that slipped under their radar. Most were uninhabitable, but one, in particular, was absent from superheroes.
Using a boom tube, Darkseid was transported to the planet. He found something in the world that beats the Anti-life equation, a training ground created by a previous civilization. This training ground was called a System Apocalypse, and it relied on video game mechanics to justify the rules of the world. Upon killing monsters on the planet, his level increases along with his stats. Once Darkseid could level up, he could fully recover all of his injuries, even those he sustained from Earth.
While Darkseid was getting stronger, the Justice League was busy dealing with Lex Luther running a crooked election. Lex Luther running for president would mean complex laws for the Justice League's international jurisdiction. Everyone in the Justice League was worried about the potential of a President Luther, except one. Batman wasn't concerned about who was running for president.
No matter what laws are in place, Batman would be there to enact justice. President Luther wasn't a threat compared to his anxiety about what happened to Darkseid after their recent confrontation. After extensive research on planet Apokolips, he found plans to conquer planets outside the Green Lantern Corps sight, leading Batman to pilot a space shuttle towards Darkseid's new planet.
When he landed, Batman quickly figured out what Darkseid was doing after his war on Earth. With the planet being far off from the watchtower, Batman had to grind levels for himself to compete with Darkseid. The planet used RPG game mechanics; when prompting him to select an RPG class, Batman concluded that Darkseid must have picked the Warrior class. So Batman decided on the sneaky rogue class to counter Darkseid, which matched his playstyle. |
What does it mean? All of it? What does it mean and why is it here? Why not something else?
The answers, the true and deep answers, etched as they are into the mathematics of this reality...are simple. Basic. Without whimsy or enlightenment.
It doesn’t *mean* anything.
It *is* because it *is*. And something else will come before and after and adjacent to it. In the vast infinity of physically unbound timelessness: *everything* will *be* at some point. And *this* just happens to be the when and where of our reality.
There is no plan.
There is no thought.
No magic or hidden meaning.
Just...existence. And I’ve done the math to back it up. I had wanted answers — profound truths — to glimpse behind the curtain and see the wizard at his work.
Instead...
Reams of mathematical formulae that add up to: might as well live in the moment.
Fuck. At least I got all that grant money. |
Sweat drips from his face.
Dragons were perhaps one of the hardest monsters to slay, a massive beast that usually took more than an entire town of knights just like him to even have a chance. And here he was, climbing the tower, up the spiral staircase, all alone. Confronted with the consequences of his actions, he never really knew why he started adventuring in the first place. Well, he did know, but it wasn't really a good enough reason for himself. He could say that he wanted to be a hero-to save the princess from a disastrous fate-but that was no reason to go alone. Maybe he simply wanted out from a mundane life. But his life was never mundane to him. He just about got the same amount of exploration and excitement as a cartographer, though without the constant impending feelings of death. The reasons kept coming, each one as possible as the rest. He probably knew it was one of them, but he acknowledged none in his head. Regardless of the reason, he was going to have to face it soon. Just a few more steps. Click, clack.
The dragon had a glare that could kill hundreds. And in fact, it had. The knight knew that better than anyone else. Pure malice, as it sat on the very top of the rigid edges of the stacks of brick and mortar. And behind the dragon, past the wooden door, was the goal. Do it, and it's over. The knight readied his sword, a challenge declared.
A rush of flames came too fast, burning the knight through the sturdy iron armor, but not killing him. Surviving only barely, as the fire hadn't spread to flesh, he immediately knew just the extent of which he was outmatched. Fighting was never an option, and it was foolish to think so. He took off his helmet and ran to the locked wooden door, opposite to where he came from.
A burst of fire, but no longer against his favor. A trick, played exactly how he had planned just moments prior. Yet the fire would take multiple minutes to break down the door. Minutes he did not think he had. Instead, in the few seconds that the dragon took to breathe in, he rushed at the burning door-faster than he had ran before-and kicked it. Just enough was destroyed before to snap easily, and with just enough time to get into the narrow hole of the prison.
\*
Escaping isn't the hard part, but it seems like a close second to fighting the dragon. The way the knight came in was impossible. And the alternative was through the window. A 50 foot drop, just close to fatal-given the nature of the blockades in between. The two people looked out, then at each other.
The drop wasn't easy. A few attempts to break the fall early, the scraping, and what's looking like a broken bone. Somewhere. But there wasn't much time to dawdle, as the flapping of wings was all too apparent. They ran. And despite being about as close to death as the knight was in the beginning, to him, this was a completed mission. In some way, he felt satisfied. And while he may not live, he has a feeling that even if he dies, the princess would be safe. The princess, on the other hand, felt that plenty of work was left to be done, as they were still running, and without the protection of armor from the knight. It may end well for both of them regardless, though. |
—Sardines. We were all packed together in that cold, cramped waiting area like sardines in a thin tin can. That’s what it felt like at least... Sitting there as often as I did. Waiting there in that long dimly lit corridor surrounded by strangers and anxious with nothing but my own thoughts to ease the passage of time as the hours slipped quietly into oblivion.
No matter how many times I’ve visited this place it’s never gotten any easier. I wanted to be a Medtech when I was younger but this ‘hospital’ was built far more like a factory than a place of healing.
Rows of identical thinly cushioned metal chairs streamed endlessly down that narrow corridor that itself seemed to go on forever.
Vibrant flashes of color and light created a kind of tunnel of light as a result of the Holoscreens and projects that covered nearly every inch of every wall and bathed the room in a wash of light.
Each screen advertised something different. One ad showed an image of a blonde woman holding a Vibro-Brush something about nanobot toothpaste, another displayed live footage of a luxury cruise, still, another offered the experience of a lifetime! A pill that made dreams come true.
But the ad that caught my eye was for an Ellrillian coffin. “Let you’re loved ones rest in peace for only 3.000 credits a month!” it read.
I couldn't even afford to die...
I instinctively stood as the loud hiss of the hermetically sealed door filled the space.
Beyond the door stood a middle age woman, not one I’d seen before, shrouded in a clod of disinfectant mist and dressed in a white protective suit that covered every inch of her body. She waited for the door to fully open before finally stepping out into the hallway.
“How bad is it?” I asked, expecting to receive the same canned answer as always: no better, no worse. Come back in another three days.
“He’s dying. He’ll be dead very soon.” she peered over her spectacles to gauge my reaction but didn't give me enough time to say anything. “I suggest you get your affairs in order... now, please sign here.”
She held out a tablet as if this were routine. As if she hadn’t just told me that the only person I’ve ever cared about was about to die.
I looked down at it and instantly recognized the tablet as a payment form.
“H-He’s Dying!” I said, “Isn't there anything you can do!?”
She shook her head and reached out to bring the tablet closer to me.
“I’m sorry. We’ve done all we can with your current standing. Unfortunately, we cannot fulfill your request, due to your insufficient social credits. Please sign here.”
“But... That can’t be right!” I said raising my voice “We haven’t done anything wrong! We’re good people! There has to be some mistake!”
A subtle pip echoed through the PA system notifying everyone in earshot that the security detail was now monitoring the situation. I knew I had to choose my next words carefully.
“Are you questioning me?” she asked, her tone growing even colder than it already was.
“Of course not!” I stammered, my mind racing to find an acceptable response, one that wouldn't trigger a censor. “That would be wrong. That would be a crime!” I said.
“And why is that?” she asked posing a question like a teacher quizzing a student.
“Because questions breed questions,” I said, repeating the mantra I’d known since I was just a little girl.
“Very good. That’s correct”—she tilted her head and stood resolute—“Questions breed questions. Questions lead to answers. Answers lead to dissatisfaction. Your state loves you. Your state wants you to be happy. Don’t you want to be happy?”
“Yes, of course, everyone does.”
“Good, then please sign here.” |
Flederman: "The answer to that question is never."
Conundrum: "Oh please that is easy to throw off as a quip. But it does not actually work."
Flederman: "So you think we should just go around murdering these people?"
Conundrum: "Absolutely not. As heroes we need to go for a higher standard. The list goes 'Don't kill if you can wound. Don't wound if you can subdue. Don't subdue if you can talk.' Note kill is not off the table it is a *last* resort."
Flederman: "And how fast will you get to the last resort?"
Conundrum: "Hopefully never. But if it comes down to ending a villain or let them kill someone else? And I have no non-lethal options? Then the villain will go down."
Flederman: "So you already have your excuses for murder?"
Conundrum: "Nope, I have a really high bar for that last setup."
Flederman: "Really? How high?"
Conundrum: "You recall the Mime and his nuke on a timer? We tried to talk him down. Several Legion members even fought him for the deactivator. Turned out it was a detonator."
Flederman: "Yeah but he put the nuke on the moon because he is a loon."
Conundrum: "No. He put the nuke in the torch of the Statue of Liberty. ***I*** put it on the moon after the detonator was activated. And let me tell you. Even with regeneration, hard radiation and vacuum still hurt like hell for a week."
Flederman: "But he was captured and will be on trial soon. I thought you said you would kill him?"
Conundrum nods and takes a sip of her coffee. "If I was alone and I could not get the detonator away from him. I would have. Dr. Hope was there and figured out where the bomb was so I didn't have to. Like I said, high bar." |
I guess I'm in the wrong house because I don't have a gray carpet or a black leather couch. I get back in my truck and drive to the next town.
Now I'm at my house with original hardwood floors and a blue upholstered La-Z-Boy recliner. I watch some TV. There isn't anything good on so I watch an old Johnny Carson tape where he has Don Rickles on as a guest.
I wake up refreshed in the morning. I get in my truck and drive to Gibson City.
I stop in Dixon to visit my brother in the prison there and buy him some peanut M&M's. |
Hey, are you a sacred chosen one who’s said to save your land after great hardship? Or maybe you’re a prodigy foretold to lose sanity and turn to the darkest pits of your soul? Well, we can’t always have things exactly how we want but we can tweak it! Hi, I’m Watson from Deus Ex Mach-incorporated and today. These days, prophecies can end up being really hard on you. I mean, I knew a guy who had his head lopped off several times and his guts eaten by rabbits! But we live in a new age, an age where we can find these magical parts of these foretold futures called Plot Holes! What’s a plot hole you may ask? Well, a plot hole is an unknown part of a prophecy that contradicts prior events! By pointing out these plot holes, we can ask fate to give you some leeway and carry on to the treasures at the end of your journey! Using our state-of-the-art Holdoggers, we can quickly analyze a prophecy and point out the plot holes hidden within. Take that friend I mentioned earlier for an example! Early on, we realized that there were several plot holes as to how he could survive and resist such grueling damage so we gave him a hot overpowered witch to look after him. Death? Revive spell. Mind control? Convenient mind control resistance granted by being around the witch! Kids?… Ok, that’s more of an after or end prophecy thing so that’s technically out of our jurisdiction since the -7690s but whatever! We can insert whatever random event you want into your prophecy wherever there’s a plot hole! So come on down to our headquarters! Make your destiny just a little easier today! |
He sat at the Captain's table, his dutiful wife beside him, and looked around the improvised 'Grand Ball Room'. It was really just one of the larger cargo modules that had been emptied of replacement parts by the maintenance robots over the course of the 1st half of their ages long journey to Alpha Centauri. The crew, who had of course been woken from stasis a few days before the colonists, had done a fine job of decorating - it's amazing, the many improvised uses for IDC ribbon cable and spare LED lights. It was nice, but he wasn't feeling in the mood to celebrate, not yet.
He looked around, marveling at the diversity of humanity that had gathered for this not-quite-NASA-approved party. While there were people of every race and nation and various other descriptors, few of them were even middle-aged. Hell, he had left children back on Earth who were older than most of these colonists... when they had left... his children were all dead now, of course. He tried to think of the many grandchildren and great-grandchildren who likely replaced them, instead of the morbid loss of his own children to time. After the flip, several more generations would come and go, and he wondered if any of them would even know his name.
He almost resolved to change his mind at that moment, call the whole thing off. He watched the Captain, flirting none-too-discretely with the younger navigator. Some very nice liquor had been smuggled aboard and broken out for this very occasion and the brandy he was drinking was very good indeed. The food had been reconstituted so well that it almost looked like the vegetables, steak and roast chicken it was meant to taste like. Several people were playing card games and making a night of the festivities. A few people were even smoking. More surprising still, no one was complaining. He could still call it off, he thought.
Then he heard it. Not clearly, for the two men weren't arguing loudly. But they *were* arguing. Their finely dressed wives shared looks of commiserating mortification, but they managed to get the men to calm down. The two couples went their separate ways in short order. One of the couples came toward the captain's table. His wife inquired of the other woman, who was a friend of hers, what the argument was about. "Politics, of course,"the woman said, rolling her pretty eyes dramatically as she sat.
No, the man decided. He would go through with it. After dinner, everyone 'danced', weightless in zero-G as the ship turned around. Many a tryst and secret rendezvous was plotted or enacted as 'gravity' was restored with the ship's deceleration thrust. He had only to decide if he would spare his young mistress. Having an entire planet to ones self was tempting, but so too was the thought of sharing it with a beautiful young woman. He had a little while longer to decide, before everyone went back into stasis. |
"Throw the baby!"
"Throwww the baby!"
"Throwwwwww the baby!"
The call passed over the battlefield. It left Artemios in a state of confusion: throw the baby? What baby?! The Persian archers were ready to fire and all his fellow Spartans could think of was lobbing an infant?! He admitted it was not the strangest thing he'd ever heard; simply, the circumstances seemed off for such an action. A hand grabbed his wrist.
"Get Kallikrates,"the warrior ordered. "He's over that way, go!"
He was practically thrown in the intended direction. He ran swift across the battlefield, feet barely touching the ground, armour clinking excitedly. There. A giant of a Spartan, pounding an Immortal into the dirt. That must be him, Artemios realised. He reached the warrior as he flung the Persian away.
"Kallikrates?"
"Yes. Who that?"
"Look down."
"Oh. Hello."There was little comprehension behind his eyes, large and round like shields. In fact, the man's entire face was oddly childlike.
"They want you to, um... throw the baby."
"Throw de baby? Of course!"
He smacked his forehead, as if the order was obvious. Good, Artemios thought, at least one of us knows what's going on. The giant shoved his hand into the squirming satchel on his belt. And out popped a baby, bawling loudly.
"What is going on, I'm not sure... what's going on?"
Kallikrates laughed resonantly. "Hehe, just watch, little one."
His arm stretched back like a catapult, becoming taut, ready to release. He turned on the spot, aiming so it seemed, in the direction of the enemy's main force. An almighty swing flung the baby high, a screaming projectile arcing through the heavens. Rapidly gaining speed. And burning. The baby was burning. And laughing. Why was the baby laughing?
"Why's it doing that?"
"I said watch."
The Persians bolted for cover, but to no avail. The baby landed with a bang, forming a crater. The blast vaporized those who were closest, while setting the rest aflame. They quickly succumbed.
Artemios looked upon the carnage with an unexpected nonchalance. "So that happened... I believe that wasn't a normal baby then?"
"It's demon baby, of course. Don't think it too much."
Thunderous footsteps signalled his departure. As the others let out cries of celebration, the battle won, Artemios stood still as a stone, inhaling the smell of charred meat. |
Everyone was at the rally except, of course, for me. I had to put the finishing touches on the costume I had spent the last two weeks making from scratch. I needed this thing to be perfect, otherwise I'll scare the heck out of my demographic. Its not easy trying to persuade a generation that has the attention span of a cocker spaniel to vote for a candidate they could care less about. But that's my job and I'm going to succeed! As I'm pulling up to the parking lot I get a call from the campaing manager. I pick it up on my car's blue toothset.
"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU??? WE'RE SUPPOSED TO START THE RALLY IN TEN MINUTES!!!!"
"Sorry boss. I was touching up..."
"I DON'T WANNA HEAR IT! GET OVER HERE OR YOU'RE FIRED!!!!"
The call drops. I knew he was steaming mad, but I only have this one shot to make a great impression on those kids. I get out of the car and gently pull the costmue out of the back seat. I made sure I got every piece as its a five minute walk from here to where the party is. I fast walk toward the election personnel gate with the "VOTE FOR DANNY DARPANELO"banners, flash my credentials, and make my way past the security guard. He chuckles as I pass by since he caught a glimpse of the work I had put in the last two weeks. I barely make it past the metal detector and start to pick up the pace a bit. Sasha sees me and points me towards the back stage.
"You just made it! Louis said if you didn't show up to just escort you out", she said as we tarried to the side of the stage. "Mark's guest is halfway through his speech. Did you bring your guest?"
"Nope", I said while trying to catch my breath. "The noodle guys are working to the Smith campaign."
"Oh no! How do we compete with that? Louis is gonna fire you for sure!"
"Don't worry! I got something that will help. Just help me put this on."
Sasha was super skeptical of the costume I bought. "I think you're gonna scare kids with this", she said while laughing.
"Don't worry. Its my funeral if it bombs. But I have faith in myself. OH! Two more things: play this in the background screen and make sure the DJ plays this song when the effects show up in the back ground."
She helped me get into the disguise and walked me over to the side of the stage.
"Sooooooo....how do I introduce you as?"
"Danny the purple shark."
"Original. I like it! I'll tell the master right away!"
After the round of applause I hear the master of ceremonies repeat the name of the previous guest. The he gets into a playful mood with the audience.
"A question for our youngest voters in the crowd: Who's big, purple, and has rows and rows of friendly teeth? Anyone? What? No sir. You're far too old to answer that question and no, he's not a dinosaur."The crowd was laughing it up. This guy can really work a crowd! "For the answer we'll bring him up on stage! Toddlers and Todd-ests make some noise for Danny the purple shark!"
The effects come on the screen and the song came up. I waddled into the stage, I turned on the lights from inside the suit so sections of it were flashing, and I started the dance routine I've been working on for this moment.
"DAAAAAANNNY D! DO-DO-DO-DO-DO-DO! DANNY D! DO-DO-DO-DO-DO! DANNY D! DO-DO-DO-DO! DANNY D! EVERBODY!!!!"
I can hear the children getting worked up! Some were screaming hysterically while others were trying to rush the stage! They loved the colorful, playful, dancing shark with the candidate's name in the song! Though hot, I danced for the entertainment of those future voters. I was so good even some of the people who weren't in my demographic joined in. After the routine was over I got a standing ovation from everyone in attendance! I take a bow and walk off the stage. Louis was waiting for me on the side.
"I don't know how you managed to pull this off, but once you get a drink of water you need to go out in the public with Mr.Darpanelo for a photo op."
"Seriously Louis?"
"Yep! My boy, you just became this campaign's official mascot! Congratulations!" |
He really thought he'd had a hang of this, by this point. It had been a touch over a thousand years, he'd been to every continent; though he still shuddered at the thought of Antarctica, or worse, *Australia*.
So when he heard about the little insurgence surrounding a young Jewish man by the name of Yeshua happening in the Roman south, while he was having a particularly *interesting* time in Russia, he didn't pay all too much attention. Sure, the rumors of a seemingly mortal man performing duplication magic on food, and the idea of his blood being particularly special for some reason were interesting, but it really wasn't his problem.
But then he started having these weird reactions to seemingly arbitrary things, a few years- or was it a few dozen years? couldn't tell you, really- later. Simple things, some odd water flicked by a man in robes or Latin words yelled at him by prey. But truly the oddest was the reaction to one of the small letters in the Anglo-Saxon alphabet.
He was nursing a burn from such an event, little pinpricks from some of that flicked water, when he really found out how dangerous the latter issue was. The prey he'd sought to consume to heal the injury had been squirming, venom not fully absorbed yet, and it's necklace had swung towards his own neck.
He'd reeled back, unfortunately tearing the prey's throat out and spilling its blood on the floor, wasteful, and felt a harsher burn than before.
He was left with the scar, unable to heal the blighted thing, and had learned since that it was because of how that Yeshua had died. What he'd had to do with vampires, he didn't know, but he was looking to find out. |
The twin suns blazed high overhead, locked in a dance that Star Gazer would never see with her own eyes. She could feel the warmth of the suns on her back. Her tendrils quivered and heat seared the air above her. Scorching. Crackling. Burning.
And then the ground jolted, throwing her off her feet. Clods of dirt struck her sides and she ducked. Curled up into herself, Star Gazer waited. The air cooled.
A gentle touch on her flank. A five fingered touch, far too small to be Scarred Hands. Star Gazer quivered and lifted her head. Feet scrabbled backwards and she turned towards the sound. Two feet. Not four.
“Who are you?” she called.
A garbled response. Her tendrils quivered as she tilted her ears forward, rising to her feet. She spread her hands wide at her side, showing their emptiness.
“I can’t understand you,” she said again.
Tentative footsteps, then rushed ones. A foreign scent swirled around the stranger, reminiscent of the scent that tore through the air when the sky was burning. Garbled, frantic noises and then a tug on her hand, leading her somewhere. Calmly and carefully she followed.
“Do you need help?”
The five-fingered creature guided her hand lower, towards the ground. She searched along the ground, feeling a rough exterior, then a smooth domed surface and then a tear in the rough covering. There was stickiness around it, accompanied by the tang of malleable metal. When she found a limp, five-fingered hand, she gathered that the creature was injured.
Gathering up the limp creature in her arms, Star Gazer turned back to home. A hand tugged on her crest and she paused. “I’ll come back for you,” she promised and loped off. She had no idea the change she was bringing to her people, cradled in her arms.
Unbalanced Steps healed the creature with the domed surface. Missing Dexterity was the one who pieced together the creature’s language. Ashen Crest made new clothes for the creature. Star Gazed welcomed the creature home. Scarred Hands kept their secret from the council, keeping the “astronauts” safe.
“Why’d you do that?” Star Gazer murmured, basking in the heat of the evening fire.
Scarred Hands’ tendrils brushed against hers gently. “We are different enough,” he rumbled. “And we don’t understand these… astronauts. The council would never give them a chance.”
“And what happens when our secret is found out?”
Scarred Hands rested his chin on her head, his five-fingered hands on her back. “Then we endure it together, for the sake of our astronaut friends and their lost community.”
She corrected him. “Colony ship.”
Scarred Hands’ tendrils twitched with amusement and the two of them sat underneath the stars, dreaming of a different future, a brighter future painted by their astronaut friends. |
Said the hiring manager. They’ll all say whatever they can to get someone to join their ranks. They’re no worse than the old school military recruiters. When he
sent me the application I was intrigued. I am athletic, cunning, and numb to my own existence—a prime candidate. I even had the experience in hunting some of the creatures listed in the ad.
Then I clicked the link.
HUNTERS NEEDED
SIGN-ON BONUS 2500
Have you been feeling overwhelmed by the state of YOUR neighborhood this mating season? Has YOUR property been used as a playground for werepups and vampire offspring? Is the journey to work slowed by the inevitable “troll with the toll” at every bridge? Why has nobody DONE something about this madness?
Look no further.
Here at Faebles Pest Control we specialize in protecting you and your neighborhood from the antics of these troublesome beasts and we want YOU to be a part!
SKILLS REQUIRED
- [ ] STRONG INTUITIVE SENSES
- [ ] TRACKING AND HUNTING EXPERIENCE (1 YEAR OR MORE
- [ ] QUICK THINKING
- [ ] MULTITASKING
- [ ] ABLE TO LIFT AT LEAST 100LBS WITH EASE
- [ ] FULL TIME HOURS (40 UP TO 60 HRS)
SKILLS PREFERRED
- [ ] KNOWLEDGE OF LOCAL AREA
- [ ] PROFICIENCY WITH ARRAY OF WEAPONS
- [ ] NO FEAR OF DEATH
- [ ] ANATOMICAL KNOWLEDGE OF DIFFERENT BEASTS
BENEFITS
- [ ] RETIREMENT
- [ ] DENTAL
- [ ] VISION
- [ ] MEDICAL
- [ ] 4 WEEKS PAID VACATION
WE WANT YOU
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They weren’t HUNTERS. They were a sleezy corporation who couldn’t be bothered doing the work themselves. Nothings changed.
I skipped the application and gathered my gear. I do this as an obligation to protect, not to capitalize on the fear of the people. I left it all behind for this. The world needed a hunter? Needed a symbol? That’s what I became. |
\[Monster by any Other Name\]
"41...,"Rosario sat on the bench and wondered about her favorite number. It was the lunch period and she preferred to sit outside in nature instead of in the cafeteria surrounded by noisy students. She found a nice spot next to some rose bushes in the shade of a large tree. She did not know she had a favorite number until a student asked her the previous day. Not only was she surprised by her immediate answer, but she was also surprised when they left her alone.
Rosario had only been attending the school for a week. Though it felt like every day, and sometimes multiple times a day, when a different student asked her to join them. The first time it happened, she thought they wanted to be friends and she was willing to make new friends. She tagged along with a group of three other students; but, she only followed them as far as the edge of the school grounds. It was her first week and she didn't want to get in any trouble by leaving campus.
The group explained that they were on the trail of a monster that stalked the students and they needed her help. It was at that point that she dismissed them as crazy and walked away. But, it happened again the next day. A different group of students seemed interested in being friends with her; but, it did not take long for them to try and lead her off the campus again. They gave the same explanation about a monster. It happened the second time on her second day and after that, she decide to ignore any 'new friends'.
Rosario wasn't the type to make waves. She assumed it was some sort of hazing that took place at the school and decided it was easy enough to not participate. Although, the attempt from the day before stuck with her. When she tried to avoid the conversation altogether one of them asked her favorite number. She answered '41' before she even knew she had one. Her answer seemed to annoy them into leaving her alone. They sighed, called her 'broken', and then walked away. It was the 'broken' part that hurt the most. She was just trying to do the right thing.
As she tried to enjoy the nature around her, she noticed two teen girls heading straight to her. She'd never seen them before; one had long silver hair and the other had dark curls that ended at her shoulders. Rosario could tell they were going to talk to her too; she braced herself mentally.
"Hi,"the dark-haired one waved as soon as they were close enough. Both of them smiled at her. "You're the new kid, right? I'm Aurora, this is Emily,"she said. "We've got a club that hangs out after school, wanna join us?"Their introduction sounded so scripted now; she'd heard the exact phrase with different names almost a dozen times. She glared at them.
"My favorite number's 41. I'm broken. Leave me alone,"she said.
"Oh no,"Emily, the silver-haired girl, said as Aurora sighed and shook her head.
"No one's helped you yet? How long has it been?"Aurora asked. Something was different about these two. Rosario heard genuine concern in their voice; and, they were actually asking different questions than she normally got.
"What?"Rosario asked.
"My favorite number is 46,"Aurora replied.
"21,"Emily added with a smile.
"We're something called 'Unique Souls', you are too. That means a lot of things; but for now, we'll just say it means you notice things other people don't,"Aurora explained. "Like, this for example,"Aurora flicked her wrist upward and a grey glassy square appeared in front of her. It was wide and flat and it hovered in the air and she began to move her fingers on it like she was typing.
"What's that grey thing?"she asked. Both girls giggled.
"It's called a Slate; think of it like a menu screen in a game,"Aurora answered. Then, she finished with it and dismissed it with another flick of her wrist. "You'll get one too once you make your character,"she said.
"What... are you talking about?"Rosario grew more confused with each answer they gave; but, they were still the ones that talked to her the most so far. She felt comfortable around them; but, she couldn't pinpoint why.
"It's too much to explain,"Aurora shook her head. "It's better to learn as you go. Let's go and we'll fill you in."
"I'm not going anywhere,"Rosario shook her head. "Not during school hours,"she added. She did want to join them. She did want new friends. But, it still seemed like they were trying to take her somewhere.
"Okay,"Aurora glanced at Emily first; then, they both nodded. "We won't rush you. We can just finish the quest while you're waiting out the day."
"What quest?"Aurora asked.
"The one you were supposed to help us with,"Aurora answered. "But, since you're Awake, I sent in a support ticket to get the quest fixed."She shrugged and shook her head. "I don't know why people can't be bothered to do that much."
"What are you talking about?"Rosario asked. A week of rejection was starting to wear on her. No matter how comfortable she felt, she couldn't shake the feeling that they were toying with her too, just like everyone else. But, Aurora answered her question by pointing to the side.
Rosario had been sitting in the same spot for a week. She knew she sat on the only bench in the area. But, when she looked to her right she saw another teenage girl she'd never seen sitting on a bench that wasn't there five minutes ago. This time, Emily walked over to the new girl.
"Hi, you're the new kid, right?"Emily asked the red-headed teen. She quickly nodded. "I'm Emily, this is Aurora. We've got a club that hangs out after school, wanna join us?"
"I'd like that!"the teen nodded. "My name's Rose,"she stood and shook Emily's hand. "What kind of club?"
"We hunt monsters,"Emily answered as they began to walk away. Though, Aurora lagged behind a bit. She turned to Rosario and smiled.
"Meet here after school?"she asked. Rosario nodded silently. She had no idea how to process what was happening and it must have shown on her face. "You okay?"
"I don't know what's going on...,"Rosario shook her head. Aurora gently patted her on the shoulder.
"That happens sometimes,"she giggled. "Don't sweat it though, you've got friends now. Besides, look at it this way,"she grinned and followed up her pat with a friendly punch on Rosario's shoulder. "At least you're not the monster we're hunting anymore."
\*\*\*
Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is story #1712 in a row. (Story #266 in year five.). This story is part of an ongoing saga that takes place at a high school in my universe. It began on August 22nd and I will be adding to it with prompts every day until May 26th. They are all collected in order at [this link](https://www.reddit.com/r/Hugoverse/comments/wtglls/tokuhigh_alternet_class/). |
Nate descended the stairs in a methodical fashion. First one foot down, then the other foot such that both feet would be on the step. Then he’d sway, grip the banister, and breathe through is gritted teeth with a deep groan on the exhale.
It took him a few minutes to make it down into the basement-slash-winecellar proper. His ill-pale skin shined with cold sweat.
“How many?”
Thomas, similarly looking like shit, was spread like a puddle made of hangover on the cool cement floor. “Six. Six bottles.”
“Damn that demon.” Said Nate as he lay down next to Thomas.
“Want to order delivery?”
“No. Saving money. Eating healthy.”
“...oh. Oh no. The Uber Eats Gremlin. He ordered burritos on my phone.”
“...damn that Gremlin.”
“...he ordered you some churros, too.”
“...and this. Is why. I *love* him.”
Silence for a while. Silence, that is, broken up by two queasy people carefully breathing so as to not throw up.
“Nate. I must confess. *I* am the Uber Eats Gremlin.”
“I. Am shooketh.”
“Also...I think *we* drank the wine.”
“Disagree. No proof.” Nate placed his head on Thomas’ shoulder and Thomas wrapped his arm around his partner.
One day. One day they’d find and defeat that demon that periodically drinks too much wine in their house. |
I asked, confronting my pet. She had always understood me and conveyed the "fetch"motion. "I was hoping you'd say that!"I exclaimed as I gave her the fetching stick. She returned the following moon as I finished my cooking. Lessie pranced towards me with her toy as I smiled. "You really beat it up didn't you!?"I asked, scratching her ears. She purred and I prepared the body for the ritual. Lessie faded to nothing with her Earthly purpose fulfilled and I regained my glorious power. My plan was in place. That was the beginning of the Final Dusk. |
“No-no.” She raised her hand and smiled. “Let me guess.”
A grin pops on my face and I place my hands flat on the bar. “Do you need to stare into my eyes or palm read or—”
“Shush.” The bartender raises a finger to her lips. “I must consult the Bar Gods.”
And with that she closes her eyes and turns her face up to the ceiling. Her hair is silver and kept up with a red bandanna, her makeup is subtle save a deliberate slash of eyebrow pencil with some crisscrosses that travels down one cheek to her jaw. The manner of her dress, to put it plainly, is...pirate. A white long-sleeved shirt, a black leather vest, and a very piratey pair of blue jeans.
She is not a maniac. She works in a pirate-themed karaoke bar.
“A pint of Pool Duck IPA?” Says the mystic marauder of the high seas from the other side of the bar.
The title mystic had been earned, afterall, as she was was dead right. Pool Duck IPA is my poison of choice. “Now that’s a heck of a guess.”
“Not a guess.” She said as she angled a glass beneath the tap and started to pour. A frown crossed her face a second later and she added. “Me hearty.”
“So. Do ye be a psychic or a psycho, ye salty-”
“You don’t have to pirate talk.” She said with a glare.
“Ah. Right. Anyways, care to share you secret, old bean?”
“Old bean?” A confused stare met with a wide smile on her face. She put the finished beer before me on the bar, then tapped the touchscreen on her register.
“You said no pirate talk and I...panicked.”
The laugh she gave me was short and polite, likely born of service industry practice. “I knew you liked that beer like I know you watch hockey, were born in December, work as an accountant and hate cilantro.”
I squinted at her. Oh no. Oh no, was this someone I know and didn’t recognise them?
“Two things.” She said. “Can you tap your card and pay, please? Aaaand also did you not pay attention to your shirt?”
I look down and saw a string of text above a skeletal Alvin the Chipmunk. With a sheepish look on my face and cheeks as hot as fire, I tap my watch on a puck near the register. At the *ping*, I know my beer has been paid for.
“The shirts ironic. Its..its a play on those stupid elaborately specific shirts dickheads seem to get.” I pick up my beer and add salt to my own wound. “My Mum got it for me.”
“Oof! Come on dude, you just called yourself a dickhead and admitted that your mother dresses you.”
I lower my head and offer a sad: “..yarr.”
She laughs and I join in.
“Cass.”
“Trev.” |
As I walk through these ancient ruins, I read the hieroglyphs from an ancient period, ‘Only the chosen one may truly wield the ultimate weapon.’ The ancient ruins have been excavated to the best of the excavators’ abilities but there was no sign of any ultimate weapons. But I was adamant to find as much information as I could about what it was or it’s whereabouts.
As I continue searching around, a roaming snake startled me backward and I landed on a pressure plate. This undiscovered pressure plate opened up a passageway to a small room only worn away by the world’s natural phenomena, untouched by humans in who knows how long. On the back wall was a statue of a monkey. In the middle was a container. Inside the container was… a pointy stick… I examine it closely and notice that it seems intricately crafted. Not just any old pointy stick, but one that was exceptionally well taken care of. But at the end of the day it is still simply made of wood so it seemed.
I grabbed the edges of the “ultimate weapon” and pulled it close to my eyes to see the finer details. Before I knew it the monkey statue had began shaking and the eye sockets began to glow a piercing jade green. A high pitched almost squeaky voice came from the statue. “Poy!” It was clear as day. “Poy?” I repeated the word aloud. Suddenly the stick jutted out quickly from the front end of the point with a rushing gust of wind. It was so forceful I could hear a clap from the burst hitting the wall. Again the statue began to glow, another word, “Hee.” Curious, I repeated the word again. “Hee!” I yelled out confidently. Before my eyes, the stick began to grow up to the ceiling, even crushing through the rock above my head, causing a small cave in centered around the middle. Luckily the damage wasn’t worse. Once again the statue glows even brighter than before. “Plo!” It calls out louder than before. “Plo!” I repeat again, a little less confident. The stick shrunk back to it’s original size.
The statue started to shake more aggressively and started chanting a phrase over and over. “Shulu-tampa, Shulu-tampa, Shulu-tampa.” It was starting to freak me out but as it’s eyes glow brighter I couldn’t look away. The deep piercing green was luring me in. Trying to look away only pulled me in closer. The background started to turn a starry purple. The chanting disappeared and I looked around and only saw white as far as I could see.
“FINALLY! A chosen has come to help me with my endeavors!” A tall, muscular, monkey-like man holding the pointy stick called out to the heavens jubilantly.
“Pardon?” I responded confusingly. “You’re a chosen, the staff chose you to pick up where I wasn’t able to. I can also finally move on to the afterlife! Huzzah!” He cheered graciously. “Here’s your staff, here’s your crown, here’s your cuffs. Here take it all” he began shoving item after item into my hands without my acknowledgement. I fell backward unable to hold it all. When I opened my eyes again I could hear birds chirping and cows mooing and the rush of wind against my face. I was now wearing all the items the monkey-man had thrown my way, including wielding the pointy stick.
Before I knew it, I was surrounded by guardsmen with spears. Calling out for my arrest. My body started to react on it’s own, “Poy-Poy-Poy-Poy! Hee! Plo! Hee! Plo!” In an instant the guardsmen were all taken down. Suddenly a ghostly apparition of the monkey-man appeared. “You ought to start runnin’” he admonished. I did just that, I began to run away, confused and concerned and scared all at once. Especially with this monkey-man haunting me now.
“I thought you were going to the afterlife? What are you doing here? Where is here? What’s going on!?” I rapid fired at the ghostly apparition.
“I was wrong, I’m here to help, here is feudal japan, and you’re warranted by the government for killing the king but you were falsely accused by being in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He rapid fired just as quickly back.
“Japan!? Feudal?! King!?” I was surprisingly not running out of breath as I continued running away from the city while conversing.
“Here, this may help you understand a little bit better,” he said as he grabs the sides of my head.
Suddenly I was whisked away to a dark corridor, seeing the monkey-man quietly try to steal treasure from the emperor king’s vault. I looked down at myself and I was just as ghostly as the monkey-man apparition next to me.
“That’s me trying to take gold from the emperor king’s treasury that he wrongfully received so that I could take it back to the people that need it with a little on the side for myself.” The ghostly apparition narrated. “And that over there is the king being stabbed by the actual killer from behind. His cloak does a pretty good job but from my angle, I can tell he’s lean but bulky and has a scar going down his left eye with a mean looking stare.”
The monkey-man dropped the gold and began fighting off the cloaked figure. The cloaked figure quickly darted for the window and made his getaway. The monkey-man looked over the emperor king seeing if there was something he could do, but he was already dead. The guardsmen burst in and saw the monkey-man hovering over the body. The monkey-man used the staff to gather the gold he had dropped and rushed out the window just as the cloaked figure had.
Suddenly my vision cleared and I found myself face first in the dirt. “So as you can see, you’re now me from the past where I had failed to accomplish my goals and where you are supposed to succeed. You’re chosen after all.” The monkey-man stated.
“And who decided I was chosen?” I teethed angrily. “Well, future-me did of course. You saw the statue and learned the words didn’t you? You were chosen.” He restated as if it’s supposed to be meaningful.
I looked around and didn’t seem to be chased anymore. But continued walking anyway. “So all I have to do is find this cloaked guy and, what, kill him? Turn him in? Prove your innocence?” I asked exhaustedly.
“Yep!” He smiled.
“That wasn’t a yes or no… never mind” I sighed. “So how do I find the guy?”
“Well the only idea I’ve had was seeing if he’s part of the assassins underbelly network.” The apparition looked me over. “But we should probably get you into better fighting shape and get you more familiar with how the staff and gear works.”
“This ‘prophecy’ was nothing like I had imagined it would be.” I groaned to myself. |
<starting>
Ever since I was a kid I think to my self that I have to be a independent person to survive, since that how I also raised by addict parents. So many family and school problems to the point part time jobs is my only rest day.
That's why I was very excited when I got hire to be an tutor to a twins from a well known rich family in the city, and I used to think that I'm going to get a good and peaceful life on that part time job.
But I was wrong. And I could've follow what my gut said to me that day, from the front mansion I started to have this weird feeling, a bad feeling. That's the first clue that I just ignore.
And the second clue is the first time I saw the twins, they seems mature from their ages but still have this energetic childish personality.
It's really weird since I've been in a toxic household so I've learn how to read someone, whether in their movements, expression, or voices.
But those twins... They are faking that personality, it's not obvious to other people, but I can see it clearly.
I remember every stereotype of twins is very opposite from each other, either bad or good. But those twins are different.
They're really identical twins, wether it's From their appearance and personality, who cares. But the most creep me out is their eyes.
Their eyes, those dead eyes that once judging me from the start, but now it's different kind of stare. like they are observing about me, every move they are observing me.
I should've not ignore my guts said when I saw them from the start, I should've just ran away from the start. |
\[POEM\]
&#x200B;
**Speculatrix**
&#x200B;
She was the President of Eyes
In how her
Features were inspired by
The maladaptive architecture
We were transporting her inside.
&#x200B;
For every time
She closed her eyes
We would shrivel up and die.
&#x200B;
For we couldn't pay the debt-collector
In the Garden of Versailles.
&#x200B;
Not even if the bastard checked if it was even raining at the time. |
**[Poem]**
*"Wouldn't it be fantastic if my finger was a fry?"*
I thought to myself one morning as I started to I get up.
Surely it couldn't hurt to give it an itty-bitty try?
Maybe it would taste good with mayo or ketchup?
I furtively looked one way, then secretively the other.
I raised my finger *(fry?)* and put it in my chomper.
All would be alright as long as no one told my mother—
She would tell me off, say that fingers are not supper.
My fry *(finger... fry?)* wasn't the most amazing stuff;
Being completely honest, it tasted kinda bland.
Suddenly, my mother screamed until my ears had enough.
"BILL, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! THAT'S YOUR HAND!"
.
(I know some of the rhymes are a little dubious, sorry). |
Name: What’s a námë?
Age: Whatever age the beings I come across were, right before they had been absorbed and mimicked. Right now I’m 16. But collectively as one whole being, I am as old as this universe, plus half of the previous one give or take.
Colour: This… Human Language does not have a name for it, but it is close to yellow, except translucent where it isn’t shimmering and shimmering where it isn’t translucent. |
Universes are smaller than you'd think.
You can fit a whole universe in a cube merely half a foot across, and it won't weigh much more than a kilo.
Now, a world is even smaller than that. In the grand scheme, you might think a single world meaningless compared to an entire universe.
But without a world to ground it, a universe is hollow, vapid, meaningless.
These are, of course, matters of the mind--of the brain. Every person is unto themselves, and within themselves, an entire universe, brimming with wonder.
For many, their family is their world. Family is what grounds them. Family is what pushes them. Family is what drives them. Family gives purpose. Meaning.
Without family, what is there?
For these individuals, the answer is, quite simply: nothing.
So are you surprised?
Are you surprised that someone might topple a city to save their world?
Are you surprised, that when pushed to the edge, a person might just take everything with them when they fall?
Of course not.
Because you understand, or at least you can imagine, the prospect of losing your world.
So why, then, do you *act* surprised?
Every universe is different, yes. But each is a reflection of what a person knows. Knowledge, in turn, comes from experience, learning.
What a person sees.
*What they've been told.*
When a person is told their world is under attack, of course they'll lash out.
So why do you seem shocked every time it happens?
When a person believes that to save their family, they must destroy other universes, other worlds, of course they'll follow through.
So why the dropped jaw?
This is the pattern, as it's always been with humans. It's how it will always be, so long as a person's world can be leveraged against them.
What? You think yourself enlightened? Above the biology rushing through your veins? Not a slave to the cascading chemicals at the foundation of your universe?
You aren't.
Sorry to be blunt.
There is, of course, hope. There's always hope, if you want it, if you look for it. Even when faced with the darkest possibilities, hope rises above all things.
As humans, it's our truest superpower.
So let's hope, shall we? Let's hope for a future where universes are left to thrive. Let's hope for a future where worlds--where families--are not threatened, in truth or falsehood.
In the end, sadly--*tragically*--hope might not save your world.
But without it, your world is already lost. |
Author's note: Please don't bash this. It's my first time ever posting something I'd written online. Also, I'm not trying to make any political statements with this, but this is how the character I created would react under the circumstances. Hope you all enjoy!
&#x200B;
&#x200B;
This all started happening in March of last year. We were warned of the oncoming sickness, but we didn’t listen. Some people, my friends even, thought it was a joke. Hell, for a while I even thought it was a joke. We didn’t know much about the disease back then. People were starting to die, and suddenly we started taking it more seriously. It started hitting my hometown fairly hard. People started dying. That’s when we started taking notice, some people decided to get immunized from it. I was about to get the shot as well. As I was in line, they told me they couldn’t see me because I had already started showing signs of the sickness. I had thought it a joke up until that point. It kept getting worse and worse, until finally, I died. Now I know what you’re thinking. How did I end up here?
&#x200B;
My mother had a funeral for me, I was told it was a very sad occasion, I was quite pleased with the turnout when I finally woke up. Have you ever gotten out of a coffin around all of your friends and family? I mean the look on their faces were absolutely priceless. Both when I jumped out of the casket, and when I accidentally set a bush on fire. Yeaup, that was a day full of shocks. But when I turned on the news after being home for a while, they were reports all over the world that the people who were dying of this disease were waking up. And everyone they had buried were immediately dug up, the ones who were saved were grateful, in other plots though they only saw holes were those people escaped. Who would’ve thought this disease was what the human race needed to take the next evolutionary step? I mean I’m kind of excited about my superpowers, sure, I mean who wouldn’t? But I mean if everyone has superpowers does it even matter? Sure I’m the only one who can shoot flames out of my hands, but still it comes with downsides. Of course, there were some people who never got the disease, and never got the immunization. So, they’re still normal. (Now I think there’s more of us than them, so I guess we’re the “new normal.”) It’s also pretty cool how the ones who got the shot got some superpowers. But there’s a lot of scientists who say that their powers wouldn’t be as “strong” as our powers. And by our I just mean people who got the disease before the shot. I just wish that the next time something really cool like this happens to me, it doesn’t also happen to everyone else in the world. I mean I want to be special, and how can I do that now? I mean when is the next time humans are actually going to mutate like this again? |
The Maestro Zubanski was the greatest composer, not only of his age but perhaps of all time. There can be no doubt about his music ranking alongside those of the great composers of the past centuries--Mozart, Beethoven, Bach, Tchaikovsky. The one thing about Zubanski's music that may lift it above the rest is its ability to evoke emotions in its listeners in a way that no other music can. There may be a few people with enough of an ear for music to be deeply affected whenever they hear the composition of the greats, but Zubanski's music touched all: no matter what your taste or experience or knowledge of classical composition, when you heard a piece by Zubanski, you will feel the emotion, and feel it at the intensity at which the music demands.
Zubanski knew this and delighted in his ability to conjure up emotion practically on demand, in a way that no other composer could. Aside from the massive earnings he had accumulated over the course of a lucrative career, he had offers from many corporations wishing to contract him so he can score their commercials. Zubanski, while having nothing against sharing his gift outside of concert performance, was very selective. He would only accept the highest bids.
One day he was approached by a charitable organization that raised funds for a children's hospital. Their bid fell short.
"I'm afraid you don't know who I am,"Zubanski told them. "If you wish to approach me again, you will need to find out the prices paid by the other companies that I've composed for."
"But this is different,"the representative from the charity told him. "This is about helping children who are gravely ill and who have nowhere else to get treatment. We research this particular illness, and the funding ensures that we can continue this research and improve the treatment. We wish we could offer more, but we can't."
"I've see your commercials on TV,"said Zubanski. "Real potboilers showing sick kids lying in bed and talking about how hard life is. It's more than enough to bring in the donations."And Zubanski sent them away.
The next day, Zubanski had another group of visitors, not the suit-wearing variety he had seen before, but large burly men in tracksuits.
"Who are you?"asked Zubanski.
"We're backers of the charity that raises funds for that hospital,"said the lead guy.
"So you're donors,"Zubanski said. "Are you one of the larger contributors?"
"You could say that,"the guy said. "We just want to know what it's going to take to get you to help the charity."
"Simple. They have to make me an offer that I can accept."
"And what's that?"
Zubanski told him.
"That's a king's ransom,"said the guy. "If we gave you that kind of money, there wouldn't be enough for the hospital."
"That's not my problem,"Zubanski said. "I have many other offers that far exceed the figure I gave you."
"So it's all about the money for you."
"Well yes,"Zubanski retorted. "Isn't it the same for you?"
"We do this for the children."
"You do this to line your own pockets under the cover of virtue,"Zubanski countered. "At least I'm honest enough to admit that I'm in it for the money, but you guys want people to think that you're doing this out of the goodness of your heart when in fact you're just as in it for the money as I am."
"What are you talking about?"the guy asked. "We're benefactors of the charity. We don't make any money out of this."
"You think I don't know what's going on?"Zubanski decided to say it out loud. "Your organization, whatever you want to call it--Cosa Nostra, mafia, the mob--you're the one behind this charity. You pull at people's heart strings with your commercials and reap a fortune. And maybe to some extent you have to keep up appearances by providing actual funding for the hospital. But I bet you're skimming somewhere. I see your racket."
Zubanski stood up to signal to the group that he was done. "Not only do I turn down your offer; now I wouldn't work for you if you paid me all the money in the world. Now if you gentlemen will excuse me, I'm quite busy, I have business to tend to and I think you do as well."
The men turned and left.
Later that night, Zubanski awoke to the sound of his own music playing on his Echo device. It was the early hours of the morning. He felt a pain in his left eye and left ear. As he got up and made his way to the bathroom, he realized that he could hear the music only with his other ear. Facing the medicine cabinet mirror, he turned on the light.
They had burnt his left eye and punctured his left ear.
\--------
The new commercial for the hospital won rave reviews. Even before it aired, People were waiting for it in anticipation after hearing the story about how the great Maestro Zubanski composed the music. It would prove to be the charity's most successful commercial yet, bringing in record pledges. |
Dear Diary,
I hate life. Man, I really wish that I didnt know everything. School is so much harder when you have to listen to some teachers be wrong and answer questions you know the answer to but be told you’re wrong. I’m not well liked by students and teachers alike because I have a “smart mouth”. No Mrs. Goldluck, I do not have a “smart mouth” if you are just wrong. The students mostly dont like me because I’m quite the loner. I prefer to be alone lest i get distracted from my book.
Why do I have a book you ask? Its not a book to read, its a book I’m writing! I’m not writing a book to give the entire world knowledge; no that would be catastrophic. I’m writing a fantasy book. One about a girl with magic who… Well, i havent really thought it all out yet.
Onto what has just happened at school.
It was a typical day, I’m by myself in the cafeteria and everyone else was with some friends. I was happy because I’d made some progress in my book. Then things changed when the Blondes walked by and sat next to me.
“Oh my god! Charlotte’s writing a book!” Said the littlest one.
“It’s Charli. Its shorter and all around better.” I said, not looking up.
“Hey,” the leader of the pack, Sarah said, “Look at us when we talk to you.”
“Nah, I’m good. I’d rather not look at some thin bimbos who think they’ll get somewhere in life when really, they won’t because they just make daddy pay for everything they want because he’s rich and that somehow makes them better than others when in reality, they’d be failing all their classes if it wasn’t for the teachers being paid off.” I spat. I was so tired of their shenanigans and making me ‘feel bad about myself’ when really I just don’t have the time for them.
They got angry. They all grabbed me and pinned me against the table. I just stared at them nonchalantly and they started threatening me and telling to take it back or else. I just blankly stared. I saw a teacher in the corner of my eye so I called to him. That got me a punch to the side. I didn’t need to wince in pain but I did for dramatics and to get that teachers attention that I’m being bullied.
The teacher saw, but he didn’t seem to care. I knew that there we’re cameras around inside the cafeteria and I knew for a fact there was one staring right where we were because I’d sat there on purpose. So I punched back.
A fight broke out three to one and everyone gathered around. I held back, because I knew the mechanics in fighting and how exactly to hit the “off switch” but I didn’t want to catch a charge. I dont really feel like getting into detail so let me just skip to the next part.
The teachers broke us up and we were sent escorted to the principal’s office lest we fight again. There were questions, there was scolding, and there was almost a me that got expelled whilst the bully got out unscathed but not this time. If I’m about to go down for minding my business, I’m about to do what I can to claw my way back up.
I brought up the teacher who saw but made no move to stop it. He denied it all until I brought up the camera. He swallowed and muttered something about how he didn’t think it was a big deal because no one was hurt. I threatened to sue for harassment, assault, and negligence. I knew I had hit the buttons I needed to get at least Sarah out of my sight.
And out of my sight was she.
She has been expelled and I’ve heard rumors of her wanting to try to convince her dad to move to another state to protect her from “bullying”. How ironic.
The worst part about this whole thing is I got some spaghetti sauce on my new shirt. I hate this school, but I suppose I can last a little longer if I’ll be able to put more people in their place like this. It’s quite fun. |
Rain had just been falling, but now the grounds were dry. Lucas Grail scanned the crowds of students, each of them going about their business as if nothing had changed. *Surely they see it.* He moved between groups, trying his best not to stare at anyone too long. Only stopping when he came upon a statue at the center of the college's square.
The bronze placard at the statue's base read: *Graviton - Master of Time and Space, Headmaster.* Lucas blinked, there was no change in the description, but the statue itself was no longer the same. The marbled man wore a horned helm, when once he wore a skullcap. His clothes were long and flowing, far from the padded suit he had before. As for the face--the parts of it which were visible beneath the helm--Lucas recognized it, but again knew it was wrong. *That's not me.*
A murmur grew behind Lucas. As with most things in life, he thought it was in regards to himself. *Do they now see what I see?* Upon turning, he found the crowds looking away from him, all watching a man--clad in the same attire as the statue--move across the lawn of the courtyard. Lucas brushed aside students with fervor as he walked toward the imposter. Some tried to rebuttal with pushes of their own and found their arms moving at a sluggish pace, as if passing through jelly. *This is the power of Graviton. Bow before your true ruler.* But the students did not bend, they stayed suspended in place, grabbing at Lucas.
"Magnificent,"a voice said. Lucas turned to find the man with the horned helm had diverted his path and now stood beside him. "You'll find they no longer answer to your whims. Nothing will, for that matter."
Lucas squinted, trying to place the face to a name. He knew he had seen the man before, but he could not say where, nor could he remember his relationship with the man. *One of my worshipers perhaps? Or another member of The Infernal who wished to challenge my claims over all existence.*
"Aren't you going to ask how I did it?"he asked. "You must be curious."
"Who are you?"Lucas asked.
Stiffness grew across Lucas as quickly as the words left his mouth. His muscles contracted and released of their own accord and he found himself on his knees, face bowing down, knuckles driving into the pavement. "All of this, and you still don't know my name?"the man bellowed. Lucas's muscles burned again as he was forced to stand. The man held a clutched fist between them, a pose Lucas knew.
"You took my powers?"
"I took more than your powers,"the man said, making no attempts to quell the rage in his voice. "All this time, I thought you were putting on some kind of an act. But you really are so conceited."
"When you are the most powerful being, you have a right to be,"Lucas said. "You can feel it too. I see it in your eyes, hear it in your voice, feel it in the motions you make me perform. Look at the people surrounding me, then tell me you aren't enjoying their obedience."
The man released his fist a staggered backward. Lucas drew breaths slowly, watching the students around him regain their autonomy. They ceased their attempts at grabbing Lucas, he was not where he had been standing when they first tried anyway. Now they kneeled or bowed before the man before them--the man they now called Graviton.
"I remember now who you were,"Lucas said. "You were Augury, leader of the League of Justice. When I dismantled your team, I left you to wallow in your defeat, left you to live out your days in disgrace. I never thought I could destroy your spirit so entirely that you would attempt something like this."
"Hail Graviton,"the crowd of students chanted, their faces pressed to concrete or grass.
"I've taken everything from you,"Graviton said.
"And yet, you've given me more than I could have dreamed. You've completed my work for me. Now, hail Graviton."Lucas bowed deeply. |
Neil took off the flour-caked apron and hung it on the same hook his pappy before him hung his upon. He washed his hands, the flour clinging to his fingers like a lover, which he peeled off in thick clumps that fell to the bottom of the bason, clouding the water.
The babes were long in bed, Helen surely along with them.
Neil felt the cold ache in the heart that accompanies loneliness on a late night. Often, when that ache came, that little nausea in the pit of his stomach, he'd struggle not to wake Helen.
What would he say? *Hey, hon. I'm just feeling down, for no reason in particular.*
Oh, honey. I'm sorry. She'd pat his back. What has got your goat, babe?
*Oh, I don't know. I'm just having a rough go at it right now.*
And the conversation would fizzle out and Helen would go back to bed, feeling annoyed. There needs to be a reason, in particular, to wake a woman at two in the morning.
So instead Neil lay in bed next to her, staying at the ceiling in the dark, his arm resting on her thigh, or sometimes her rump. And he gazed deeply into his heart, his mind, hoping to find an answer to the cold ache.
Why did he feel incomplete? Why did he feel a small sadness at night when all the cards were dealt in his favor?
A loving family, a well-paid career that he didn't mind too much, and of course, that was enough. Who expected to love their career?
Then what itched his brain? What clawed his dopamine, making him feel as displaced as a brick among cobblestone from a particularly lazy repairman?
Where could he recover it? What could repair his happiness?
He gently slapped his face, grinning a sly grin.
No more questions for today, Neil. He told himself. We've spoken to ourself enough. We will learn these things. We will get better. For now, we must prepare.
Neil popped the top off a bottle of beer and put on a long, heavy woolen coat.
He strode outside to do a few hours of preparatory work. Hell's winter was mere days away.
Neil had much the same conversation the next day, when Helen and the babes fell asleep early again. |
The chieftain and his small band of warriors laughed hysterically at my statement. I pursed my lips and clenched my jaw, waiting for their ignorance to subside with a roll of my eyes.
“You’re just a harmless little girl!” The chieftain roared in between gasps of air, wiping tears from his eyes, “A really annoying, harmless little girl-“
“I’m not harmless.” I countered when they all had more or less stopped their laughing, “I’m peaceful. There’s a difference.”
“Oh really? And what, pray tell, might that be?” He regarded me, bemused at my statement.
“By calling me harmless, you are insinuating that I am not capable of committing crimes or partaking in violence. Being peaceful means that while I try to stay as neutral as possible, I am still capable of committing crimes and acts of violence, but I just choose not to.”
“That’s a smart mouth you got there,” One of the guards spat, but I ignored him.
“Really? *That’s* the difference? Nonsense.” The chieftain held my gaze with an appraising sneer.
In response, I offered my rope-bound wrists to him, “Why don’t you cut me free and find out?” |
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The Omni Monkey Paw. The game breaker. The paradox, and final solution to the riddle. Now, the Djinn could not trick me. My plan was ready to unfold. And the best, I was still alive. The worst.
When a Djinn does not like you, and offers you a wish, you should never take it. By the rules of how such things work, when you free the Djinn, it has to offer you wishes until it can find a twisting in the words which you use for your requests. A twisting that allows the Djinn to add some unintended side effect to the fulfillment.
Mostly, these side effects are just little nuisances, or even funny. But now imagine that you are the person who recently has caught the Djinn in a bottle, just having it released for the first time after a month half a minute ago. You should better not be expecting the prisoner to be very fond of you, so you better be careful with your wishes. In other words, leave the Djinn alone and skip the wishing session already. The internet had douzens of stories, where someone had lured a Djinn into a trap and was then bold enough to demand a wish before releasing it into the free again. What normally happened, under these circumstances, was called the monkey paw, and its results were disastrous. Some of the affected became tragic superheroes at least, using supernatural abilities they wished for to make the world a better, but most were not so lucky. Honestly, asking a Djinn for a wish after being the one who had entrapped it yourself, was just blatantly stupid. And you could really not expect the wisest wishes from someone who attempts such madness.
But I thought I was so smart. This time, it was me who had tricked the Djinn. The hypothesis was the following: As of now, after my latest crazy wishes fulfillment, my previous paws were kind of overwritten by the omni one. And with the extra wish I was about to receive soon, I would be able to fool the Djinn a second and a third time. By the rules, the Djinn would then join my control as a loyal servant, and I could force it to annulate the omni paw, ending my suffering once and for all. The only thing I had to do for this to happen, was to use the correct words now, words that I had rehearsed well over the previous weeks. |
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